Old Habits
Title: Old Habits 2
Pairing: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Author: alanwolfmoon
Rating: Pg-13
Warnings: Not much.
Summary: Second in a series of ten generally H/C themed ficlits following Charles and Erik for ~ fifteen years after First Class
Disclaimer: MINE! ALL MINE!....uh, no. Not mine.
Feedback: Reviews and flames are welcome. (They make it look like I'm writing fast)
Notes: Less than a year after FC
Previous Chapters: First
Calling Erik on the phone seemed a bit odd. But he was wearing his helmet-up to something Charles wouldn't like, then-and Charles really freaking needed him. When you needed someone to lift a crashed SR-71 out of the swimming pool where the fifteen year old hijacker had overshot her landing by about three hundred yards, there weren't too many other people who could get the job done.
Erik sounded distracted, and angry, and didn't immediately realize it was Charles on the line, he almost hung up, before Charles had a chance to say much of anything, "Erik. I need your help."
As far as he knew, he and Raven were the only people who called Erik by his first name. The other end of the line went silent for a moment, then, "Charles?"
"Yes, old friend."
"What is it?"
"It's not urgent, or anything, there's just not a whole lot of other people who could help."
"What do you need?"
"One of my students crashed the blackbird. I just need to get it into the repair bay."
A tired sounding laugh on the other end, then, "I'll be there tomorrow."
"Thank you so much, Erik."
The line cut off, Charles smiled, both amused, and very much looking forward to seeing Erik.
The next day came, and went, and Charles couldn't get ahold of Erik again. He found Raven with Cerebro, touched her mind, told her he was worried. She was worried as well, but she had no idea where Erik was, or what he had been up to.
It was another full day later, when one of the students knocked on his bedroom door, he shifted off the bed into the plain, manual wheelchair beside the bed, answering the door. It was one of the younger girls, she was practically hysterical, and not making a lot of sense. Eventually, he managed to calm her, and get out of her the information that there was a strange man at the door, bleeding and covered in blood.
Hurring to the front door, the elevator ride was excruciating. Pulling open the large oak slab, he found Erik standing there, just removing the helmet. Blood was dripping from his nose, and his clothes were splattered with more. He was propped up against the wall, he looked absolutely terrible. Charles reached out, Erik dropped the helmet, and gripped charles's hand with his violently trembling one.
Charles looked at the girl, "get Samuel."
She nodded, and ran off, still barefoot. Erik seemed to have hit the absolute limit of his endurance, as the girl left, his knees gave out, and he landed hard on the stone entrance. He managed to sit back up, and Charles helped lift him enough, that he was able to lean slightly awkwardly against Charles's shins, a shaking hand gripping the seat of the wheelchair, "hello, Charles."
"Erik..."
The girl, Sarah, returned, with a large young man, who lifted Erik with no problem, and carried him to the infirmary. Once the students had left, Charles, moved to Erik's side, laying a hand on his sweaty forehead, "what happened?"
"You wouldn't like the details, Charles. But only because it was dangerous."
Charles started unbuttoning his friend's bloodstained shirt, "you're right."
Erik managed a weak smile, but he seemed to be too exhausted to sit, instead Charles helped him roll onto his stomach, and went around to the other side, to pull his shirt off from there. Erik looked at him, cheek pressed against the mattress, blood still dripping from his nose, "I had to lift a building."
Charles frowned, "what... no, I know you won't tell me. And I promised not to look."
"I couldn't. My people were in danger."
"I'm sorry."
"You remember that night, with the fire, and chess, and scotch? And McTaggert walking in?"
Charles smiled a little, "honestly not all of it."
Erik laughed, tiredly, "me neither. But I remembered enough."
Pairing: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Author: alanwolfmoon
Rating: Pg-13
Warnings: Not much.
Summary: Second in a series of ten generally H/C themed ficlits following Charles and Erik for ~ fifteen years after First Class
Disclaimer: MINE! ALL MINE!....uh, no. Not mine.
Feedback: Reviews and flames are welcome. (They make it look like I'm writing fast)
Notes: Less than a year after FC
Previous Chapters: First
Calling Erik on the phone seemed a bit odd. But he was wearing his helmet-up to something Charles wouldn't like, then-and Charles really freaking needed him. When you needed someone to lift a crashed SR-71 out of the swimming pool where the fifteen year old hijacker had overshot her landing by about three hundred yards, there weren't too many other people who could get the job done.
Erik sounded distracted, and angry, and didn't immediately realize it was Charles on the line, he almost hung up, before Charles had a chance to say much of anything, "Erik. I need your help."
As far as he knew, he and Raven were the only people who called Erik by his first name. The other end of the line went silent for a moment, then, "Charles?"
"Yes, old friend."
"What is it?"
"It's not urgent, or anything, there's just not a whole lot of other people who could help."
"What do you need?"
"One of my students crashed the blackbird. I just need to get it into the repair bay."
A tired sounding laugh on the other end, then, "I'll be there tomorrow."
"Thank you so much, Erik."
The line cut off, Charles smiled, both amused, and very much looking forward to seeing Erik.
The next day came, and went, and Charles couldn't get ahold of Erik again. He found Raven with Cerebro, touched her mind, told her he was worried. She was worried as well, but she had no idea where Erik was, or what he had been up to.
It was another full day later, when one of the students knocked on his bedroom door, he shifted off the bed into the plain, manual wheelchair beside the bed, answering the door. It was one of the younger girls, she was practically hysterical, and not making a lot of sense. Eventually, he managed to calm her, and get out of her the information that there was a strange man at the door, bleeding and covered in blood.
Hurring to the front door, the elevator ride was excruciating. Pulling open the large oak slab, he found Erik standing there, just removing the helmet. Blood was dripping from his nose, and his clothes were splattered with more. He was propped up against the wall, he looked absolutely terrible. Charles reached out, Erik dropped the helmet, and gripped charles's hand with his violently trembling one.
Charles looked at the girl, "get Samuel."
She nodded, and ran off, still barefoot. Erik seemed to have hit the absolute limit of his endurance, as the girl left, his knees gave out, and he landed hard on the stone entrance. He managed to sit back up, and Charles helped lift him enough, that he was able to lean slightly awkwardly against Charles's shins, a shaking hand gripping the seat of the wheelchair, "hello, Charles."
"Erik..."
The girl, Sarah, returned, with a large young man, who lifted Erik with no problem, and carried him to the infirmary. Once the students had left, Charles, moved to Erik's side, laying a hand on his sweaty forehead, "what happened?"
"You wouldn't like the details, Charles. But only because it was dangerous."
Charles started unbuttoning his friend's bloodstained shirt, "you're right."
Erik managed a weak smile, but he seemed to be too exhausted to sit, instead Charles helped him roll onto his stomach, and went around to the other side, to pull his shirt off from there. Erik looked at him, cheek pressed against the mattress, blood still dripping from his nose, "I had to lift a building."
Charles frowned, "what... no, I know you won't tell me. And I promised not to look."
"I couldn't. My people were in danger."
"I'm sorry."
"You remember that night, with the fire, and chess, and scotch? And McTaggert walking in?"
Charles smiled a little, "honestly not all of it."
Erik laughed, tiredly, "me neither. But I remembered enough."