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Charles slowly wheeled himself up to the bedroom door that had been closed for months. He had been avoiding this area of the house since he returned from the hospital. The entire house brought him many painful memories but this corridor stung. It was littered with the most bitter-sweet echos of a happier time. Days and weeks spent here with Erik. The pair laughing as they made their way to the bedroom, Erik pressing him against the wall and threatening he was going to take him right then and there, witnesses be damned.
His hand hovered over the door handle, cursing that he was shaking. It was just a bloody room. It had been there long before Erik had claimed it as his. He turned the door handle and pushed it open. No one had touched the room since that morning they had left for Cuba. The bed was unmade, there was an empty mug on the side of the bed, clothes scattered around. Charles sighed heavily as he wheeled himself into the room. He felt so tiny in here now. The world was at a different angle permanently sitting down. The chest of draws were taller than he was. He reached out, opening a draw. Just as he had suspected, Erik's clothes were all still here. He had believed in travelling light and so his items were few. His turtlenecks seemed to be mocking him from the draw so he slammed it shut.
He didn't know why they had allocated Erik his own bedroom. For appearances more than anything else. He had never slept in here. Erik had spent every night in Charles bed, although he had spent each morning sneaking out early so as not to alert the others. Once they had fucked in here. Erik had taken him rather roughly against the door when Charles had stopped in to ask if Erik wanted to go jogging with him. It had been rough, fast, hard, perfect.
Charles moved over to the unmade bed. He didn't know why it wasn't made. Erik had never slept in here after all. He reached out to stroke the bedsheets. Taking a handful of the comforter, he brought it up to his face. It didn't smell like Erik. It was familiar though. A floral scent that seemed to hang heavy. Raven. It was Ravens scent. Why would Erik's bed smell like her? He shook his head and dropped the comforter back on the bed. He didn't want to delve into that thought too deeply and did it even matter anymore? They were both gone and he was left here with a wheelchair as a constant reminder of them abandoning him on that beach.
He wheeled himself around the bed and looked out the window. The day was stretching into night, not that it mattered to Charles much anymore. His days seemed to just be a never ending maze of pain, both physical and emotional. Would it have been better if Erik and Raven had returned home with him? They could have all been together. Of course that was never going to happen. Charles had fulfilled his usefulness to Erik hadn't he? Once he had held Shaw in place long enough for Erik to make them both murderers, Charles was expendable. He could be shot in the back, literally. He could be left on a beach to bleed out before help arrived. He could be sent home to spend his days in a wheelchair. Of course Erik wouldn't want him anymore. What would the great and powerful Magneto want with an emotionally unstable cripple anyway? He wouldn't even be a good fuck anymore since he couldn't move from the waist down.
Charles turned away from the window. It had been a mistake coming into this room. It was a room that reminded Charles what a fool he was. To trust and love Erik when clearly he hadn't truly reciprocated those feelings with him. All those whispers of love and promises of tomorrow had meant nothing. Erik had left him and hadn't even tried to make contact in the months that had followed. Neither had Raven. But it was Erik abandoning him that hurt the most. Sisters were meant to grow up and leave. Lovers weren't.
He turned his chair to leave the bedroom when something caught his eye. It was half kicked under the bed but Charles knew instantly what it was. Erik's black turtleneck. It was Charles favourite shirt of Eriks. It was the one he had worn that last night here. He wheeled quickly over to it, his fingers itching to touch the familiar material. He leaned down to pick it up without thinking. His chair tipped forward and sent Charles sprawling face first on the floor with a grunt.
He lay there, momentarily stunned before he swore. He used his hands and arms to sit up slightly and look at the chair as though it had offended him. The wheelchair had rolled backward when he had fallen so he couldn't even reach it. The irony that Erik would be able to will it back with a wave of his hand wasn't lost on Charles and he laughed bitterly.
He turned his attention back to the piece of clothing he longed to touch. It was within easy reach now so Charles picked it up. A sob caught in his throat as he touched the material he knew so well. He had almost ripped it off Erik on several occasions. He brought the turtleneck up to his face and tears welled as he inhaled the scent. For a moment it was like Erik was back. The scent Charles had long ago memorised. The scent that had come to mean home, safety, love. He didn't try to hold back his tears anymore. They just flowed as he burrowed his face into the turtleneck and sobbed.
He sobbed for everything that had happened. Erik and Raven leaving. The loss of his ability to walk. At feeling abandoned by the two people he loved the most. That neither Raven or Erik had tried to make contact to find out if he was even alive. He cried that his hands were stained with Shaw's blood. He cried for the future he had dreamed about with Erik. The broken promises Erik had made him. He sobbed and sobbed until he could hardly breathe, the entire time clutching that turtleneck as though it was a lifeline.
******
This was how Hank found him hours later. Charles hadn't come down for dinner and he had been worried. He had searched and searched for him everywhere, becoming increasingly worried when Charles hadn't responded to him even telepathically. This had been the last place he thought to look because he didn't think Charles would ever enter this room again.
Hank had raced to his side, frantically checking for a pulse. He calmed down once he realised he was asleep. For a moment he had feared the worse. "Oh Charles." Hank whispered heavily as he saw the black shirt clutched in his hands. He hated to see his friend in this pain and he cursed at both Erik and Raven for doing this to him. Charles was a good man who had taken them all in and looked after them. He hadn't deserved any of this.
He wasn't sure what to do but he couldn't leave Charles on the floor like this. Knowing the bed was the best option, he carefully picked Charles up. He had lost so much weight these past few months and in his blue form, Hank had no trouble scooping him up and gently placing him into the bed. Charles barely stirred but still clutched the black turtleneck. Hank moved the wheelchair beside the bed so Charles could easily access it when he wanted to.
Hank looked down at his friend for a moment. Even in sleep he didn't look peaceful. He looked pained, tortured. Hank felt a tear run down his cheek as he pulled the covers up around the telepath. Charles shifted slightly in the bed. "Erik?" He whispered with the faintest hint of a smile. He blindly reached for what he believed to be Erik. He took Hanks hand and gave it a squeeze. He sighed, clearly content that he found contact with 'Erik'. Another tear ran down Hanks cheek at that. He didn't know how to respond and was relieved when Charles fell silent again and he released Hanks hand.
"I'm sorry Charles." Hank whispered heavily. How he wished he could somehow make all of these right. That he could find Erik and Raven, drag them back here by the scruff of their necks and force them to stay for the Professors sake. He deserved that. Instead he just gazed down at Charles and whispered. "I promise I'll never leave you Charles. No matter what, I'll never abandon you." With that promise made, he turned out the light in the room, leaving the bedside lamp on. "Good night Charles." Hank gave his sleeping form a nod before he left.