Actions

Work Header

What If I Could Save You?

Chapter Text

"Erik, NO! Don't do this!" shouted Charles as he saw through Shaw's eyes, Erik pulling out the coin, letting go of it so it hung in mid-air, and then informing Shaw that he was going to count to three, and then move the coin.
"Erik please, stop!" cried Charles, hoping desperately that Erik could hear him even a little bit, that he could get through that damned metal helmet and stop his friend.
"One." The coin began to float towards Shaw's head. Charles' breathing quickened.
"Two." The coin was getting closer, it was halfway there. Charles could see no way out of this, except letting Shaw go. But then he would kill Erik, and if it was a choice between Shaw and Erik it was no contest for Charles. As Erik knew full well.
"Three." The coin began to slice it's way through Shaw's forehead and Charles began to scream. It was a long, loud, scream that seemed to never end. Charles could do nothing but keep the scream going as he felt the coin cutting its way through Shaw's skull and brain. Charles shut his eyes as tight as they could from the pain of it all as he screamed but all it did was sharpen his view from Shaw's eyes as he stared at Erik, the man who was slicing through his head without mercy. Did the bloody idiot even know that he was hurting Charles? He had to, he had to be hearing him scream, see him squeeze his eyes as closed as they could get. After a few seconds, which felt like an eternity to Charles, his view through Shaw's eyes and the feeling of Shaw's mind just went black. Out, like someone blowing out a candle flame. In one breath it was gone, Shaw was dead, and Charles felt like he would be joining him any second.
Vaguely he thought he could hear Moira calling his name as he stumbled out of the ruins of the plane and onto the sand. He needed air, he couldn't let the blackness surrounding his vision overwhelm him. All he could see was Erik's face of calm triumph and shock at it finally being the end of his most hated enemy, and all he could feel was that fucking coin tearing through his head. All he felt was the cold reality of the betrayal he had always known was coming, and an overwhelming sense of dissapointment that Erik could not find it in himself to be the better man.
His knees hit the sand with a dull thump, and he put out his hands on the sand to stop him falling further. The blackness around the edges was getting stronger and thicker, and Charles found that he was too damned tired to do anything about, to care, and so he let it fill his vision. He could stay unconscious forever as far as he cared. He did not want to see or feel anymore, the pain was just too much. The sand came up to meet him, and he was surrounded by darkness.