Chapter Text
The anti-mutant gang Erik had decided to investigate had turned out to be far more powerful than Erik had expected. He’d expected some backwards idiots with pitchforks, but clearly someone was funding them, and whoever it was really did not like him.
He’d gone alone, which was a slightly stupid idea on his part, but in his defence he really hadn’t expected them to be so… sophisticated.
They’d had plastic weapons, and the collar had been on him before he’d realised what was happening. Then a sedative had pierced his neck, and the world had gone dark.
He’d told Raven he would be away for a few days, and he didn’t expect her to come for him for at least a week, knowing missions could go off schedule.
So unfortunately, that meant a week of torture.
And normally, he could take it, he could, with ease after so many years, but this torture involved a stark white medical room and someone pretending to be a doctor that looked a little too much like Shaw.
(They’d opened him up, saying they’d wanted to see if he truly had a heart.)
Something in him had broken. He’d felt lost, helpless, like a terrified child once more.
He knew the feeling, of course, was familiar with it. He’d felt it plenty of times over the years, strapped to a table when Shaw tortured him, or when he’d realised no one was coming for him, all those years ago in solitary confinement.
He’d tried his best to fight it, but he knew the feeling would always win.
So once they’d granted him the dignity of being thrown back in a cage, he’d managed to drag himself to the back of the cell, pulling his knees to his still-bleeding chest.
He felt like he was drowning, and there was no one to pull him out of the water.
He wasn’t actually sure how many days had passed before he heard a crash outside his cell, saw the guards fall around him. It frightened him, even though the guards had been cruel, had hurt him.
Then Charles appeared in front of him, looking haggard. “Erik.”
Erik looked at Charles with sheer confusion. What was he doing here? Why wasn’t it Raven in his cell?
Charles searched his face for a moment. “Are you hurt? Where did they hurt you?” The man sounded frantic.
Erik opened his mouth and then closed it, unable to get the words out. He pointed to the cuts on his chest, the bloodstains evident on his shirt. Then to his ankle, where someone had stomped.
Charles’s face fell. He looked around. “Azazel.”
Azazel finished with the last guard and moved to Erik. “Alright, where to, Boss?”
For a moment, Azazel frightened Erik and he flinched, curling further in on himself. He looked down at the ground.
Something in Charles’s face changed for a second, before it became calmer, almost gentle. “Take us to my house, Azazel. We need to get him checked over in the medical wing.”
Erik inhaled sharply at the thought of more doctors, but Charles’s house was safe, wasn’t it? Hank had never hurt him, for all the man didn’t exactly like him. And Charles would be there. Charles would protect him, right?
“Boss?” Azazel was looking at him, silently asking if that was what he wanted.
Erik took a shaky breath and nodded.
Azazel frowned but nodded, grabbing the two of them and taking them to the medical wing before disappearing, Erik presumed, to get the rest of the team out of there.
Erik looked at Charles with alarm. He found himself unable to put it into words so he just projected the memory of the collars, pointing to his own.
“Oh no, we know, Erik, don't worry, we're prepared for that,” Charles replied, clearly sensing his panic. “It's going to be alright.” He took Erik's collar off, the touch incredibly gentle.
Erik didn't want more of his friends to get hurt because of him.
“Erik.” Charles's voice was incredibly soft. “I need to look at your injuries. Will you let me?”
Erik hated doctors. But Charles wasn't a doctor. And Charles cared about him, right? He hesitantly nodded.
Charles moved forward, a lot more slowly than he usually did. He hesitantly moved Erik's shirt, hands stopping when Erik whimpered. “I know it hurts, but I need to check it's not infected, okay?”
Erik screwed his eyes shut, bracing himself, and nodded. He fought back tears as Charles cleaned up his wound and stitched up the parts his captors had missed.
“I know. You're being so brave, Erik, it's okay. You're doing a good job,” Charles said to him gently. “Almost done. I just need to check your ankle, okay?”
Erik swallowed hard and nodded. He held out his ankle, struggling to move the lower part of his leg at all.
“It's okay if you need to cry. You're not going to get in trouble for crying.” Charles picked up his leg. “Now, take a deep breath. I need to set the bone.” He waited a moment before doing it quickly, the bone making a horrible crunching noise.
Erik screamed from the pain, almost wailing. He sobbed, not understanding why Charles would do something that hurt so much.
“Oh, Erik, it's alright. It's done. I just need to immobilise it. See?” Charles spoke the same way Erik had watched him speak to a crying student who had grazed their knee. He put the cast and splint on before looking at Erik.
Erik looked away, trying to hide his tears. He forced himself to nod, hands shaking.
“Erik. Erik, breathe. It's alright. I'm sorry it hurt so much.” Charles reached out and took his hand, squeezing it.
Erik opened his mouth to speak but only a sob came out.
“Oh, sweetheart.” Charles took his hand and Erik looked at him in surprise. Charles just smiled at him. “It's okay. You're safe now. Do you want to stay here or go to your room?”
Erik took shaky breaths and finally managed to get words out. “Room,” he mumbled, voice soft and a little higher than usual. He had his own room, for the times he needed to stay over. It didn't have much, but it was his place in Charles’s house and that was special to him.
Charles's whole face seemed to change for a moment. “Okay. Can you come here? I'll let you ride on the chair with me...” Charles said it like it was something fun.
And well, it did look fun.
Erik climbed onto the wheelchair with shaky hands, and Charles helped him with gentle guidance.
“There we go,” Charles's voice was soft, gentle, but he said it like Erik had done something good.
Erik just held onto Charles until they got to his room.
“Can you get in your bed for me, sweetheart?” Charles asked him softly, stopping right beside his bed.
Erik nodded and crawled to his bed, almost falling onto it.
Charles caught him and helped him lie down. “Steady, steady. I have you.”
Erik just nodded, his eyes prickling with tears. “Hurts,” he whispered.
Charles's face made that funny expression again before it changed back to a smile. “Let me take some of that pain, Erik.”
Erik frowned, confused, until the pain faded. He didn't understand how it happened, what Charles did, but it didn't hurt anymore, and he was too scared and exhausted to care. “ Danke ,” he whispered.
Charles nodded at him. “Do you want to get some rest now?” He suggested softly.
Erik was so exhausted after being in his cell, but he still felt scared. “Stay?” He asked softly.
Charles looked at him with almost sad eyes, but he nodded. “I will, I promise.” He reached out and he stroked Erik's hair.
It was so nice, and the bed was so soft that he fell asleep almost immediately.