prompt post: round six

[soldierly]

ROUND SIX IS CLOSED

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Fill: I know how this ends 04a/?

[anonymous]

“They didn’t believe me when I identified you,” he started, “no one would believe that Charles Xavier was the person behind the robberies, did you know that?”

Charles smiled, all teeth, the expression unflinching as Erik coaxed the metal upwards, wrapping around the lower half of his ribcage. His breath was pushed out of him, and Charles attempted to draw air; mouth opening as his body flexed to inhale. He couldn’t draw anything in. The thought flared in his mind sending panic racing through him.

“Little breaths,” Erik said soothingly, bringing a hand down to curl the tips of his fingers into Charles’ hair.

“Please,” Charles managed, the last syllable pressed from his body by a minute tightening of the metal.

Erik’s indistinct features were starting to waver, darkening at the corners before turning inwards-

The first inhalation sent Charles awareness into overdrive; the clothes he was wearing, the grain of wood beneath his fingers; the colours that engulfed him, and the sound of him breathing, drawing air into his lungs at such a pace that it choked him, making him cough. He was aware of Moira once more, the room, the museum.

Charles pressed a hand flat against his chest in an attempt to rein the coughing fit. His head was still spinning, and his body was aching from the grip of the metal.

Erik had risen to his feet, wordless as Moira blasted him with abuse.

“We had a procedure, killing him wasn’t part of it!” she said, dropping to her knees by Charles.

She placed a hand on his shoulder, the touch light and almost hesitant.

“I’m alright,” Charles offered, coupling his words with a weak smile.

His eyes were still watering, but he had managed to settle his coughing. Still though, still he was drinking in air as if he were making up for the minutes that he had been deprived of it.

Charles cast a glance to Erik, looking at him from beneath his eyelashes. Erik met his gaze evenly, his features blank as he watched Charles raise his fingers to his temple, slow and deliberate, and wiped Moira’s memory clean.