XMFC/Where's Scott?

[diecastking]

The fire is roaring in the grate, the drawing room an insulated haven from the chilly expanse of the mansion. Despite Hank and Alex's experiments with capturing Havok power, the old building remains draughty and difficult to warm.

However, Erik is perfectly content. He is sitting on the sofa, Charles sprawled across his lap in a position that would've been completely impossible only a few months ago. He rests his elbow on the arm of the sofa, a book of philosophy open but it's his lover who holds his attention, his hand softly caressing his hair.

Charles has never looked more content, more relaxed. The only sting in the tail is that Erik cannot feel his happiness, one step removed from the intimacy they once shared.

Comments

[guideshapelead]

"He's fine," Hank holds out a hand to Erik's chest to stop him. "Or he will be. The... the original medication he was on. The one that blocked his power, but gave him his legs. The component I've removed in the new version... it appears it was highly addictive. The Professor is experiencing the first symptoms of withdrawal."

Hank looks suitably apologetic. "I cannot let him go back to it, now. It's too dangerous."

[diecastking]

Erik forces down the anger he feels - against Hank, against the world - and brings himself back to the moment.

"What about his legs? Can you do anything?"

[guideshapelead]

Hank shakes his head.

"I'll keep experimenting, but don't get your hopes up. That's the compound that blocked his ability. The addictive one."

[diecastking]

Erik closes his eyes in frustration.

"He is not in his right mind," he tells himself, more than Hank. "He will understand when he is better."

[guideshapelead]

"It'll get worse before it gets better," Hank warns, before looking Erik up and down, trying to decide whether he's the kind of person who might have experienced withdrawal first-hand, or seen it up close.

"You know how withdrawal goes."

[diecastking]

Erik nods tersely. He lived on the streets of NYC as a teenager - he has seen withdrawal up close and personal, even started to feel some of it himself. That's when he'd got out.

"I can take care of it."

[guideshapelead]

Hank nods again.

"Come and find me if you need me," he offers, before leaving Erik to be with his fiancé.

[diecastking]

Erik enters the drawing room and immediately locks the door behind him.

"Charles?" he asks. "Were you listening?"

[guideshapelead]

"I can't not listen," Charles complains. "I can hear the whole house as though you're all screaming in my ear."

[diecastking]

"Then you heard what Hank said," Erik continues, his voice level.

"About the drug and its effects."

[guideshapelead]

Charles nods. He doesn't want to say anything out loud that might be taken as an agreement with Hank's suggestion. He's too busy struggling to come to terms with the idea that the drug that gave him back his legs has been taken away from him.

[diecastking]

"Hank will not synthesise any more of the serum, Charles," Erik says firmly. "We will have to get you through this without it."

[guideshapelead]

"I don't feel well," Charles complains and tries to turn his back, though with his legs back to dead weights he only truly succeeds in shifting his shoulders.

[diecastking]

Erik takes a step forward, but does not move him. "Perhaps we should retire to bed," he says.

[guideshapelead]

"I can't get to bed," Charles says pointedly into the sofa cushion.

"I can't move. Just like you've always wanted."

[diecastking]

Erik tenses, his whole body screaming to run, to lash out. The metal in the room vibrates for a moment and then falls silent.

"You know that isn't true," he says quietly.

[guideshapelead]

"You want me on this drug," Charles points out.

"You'd take my mind over my legs."

[diecastking]

"I want your seizures to stop. And I don't want you to be an addict, Charles."

The word cuts through the air as he says it, heavy between them, but Erik does not regret it.

[guideshapelead]

Charles doesn't answer, biting his lip as he waits for whatever Erik might say or do next. He is helpless to resist him, unable to get away, too out of practice to use his telepathy to protect himself.

[diecastking]

"I will fetch your chair," Erik says steadily. "And we will go to our bedroom."

[guideshapelead]

Charles keeps up his silence. If Erik wants him as his puppet, so be it. He hasn't the strength to resist.

[diecastking]

Erik fetches the chair in silence and places it beside the sofa, waiting. He will not help Charles unless he asks - despite what his lover thinks, he hates to see him so helpless.

[guideshapelead]

"Don't just stand there and stare at me," Charles finally snaps.

"You know I can't move myself."

[diecastking]

"You are as strong as you ever were," Erik says quietly. "Merely...out of practice."

But he comes to Charles' side all the same, supporting him to sit up and transfer to the chair.

[guideshapelead]

Even if he had all his old upper body strength, Charles is too distracted by the violent return of his power to give it his full concentration. Not to mention that he feels as though he's caught in the midst of a particularly violent bout of flu.

He lets Erik lift him into his chair, compliant as a ragdoll.