The World Should Go On
Title: The World Should Go On Part 6
Author:cathat77
Rating: R
Word Count: 1657
Characters: Charles
Summary:In an alternate universe, Charles and Erik meet earlier. When Charles and Erik are recruited to find Shaw, they embark on a journey they never expected.
Warnings: trigger for homophobia, some cruelty
Disclaimer: In no way, shape, or form does X-Men First Class belong to this author. X-Men First Class is the property of Marvel, and this author is merely borrowing from the Marvel Universe.
The World Should Go On
Part 6B
Charles hears laughter surrounding him, closing in on him, and all he wants to do is huddle closely and feel safe. He can't feel anything. His head is swimming. The very shadows on the wall are taunting him, pointing fingers and laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing. His upper lip feels scratchy and well-worn, even a bit bloody from what he can tell.
Charles cannot move his head or his arms or his feet. He is on a cold metal table, held still for all the world to see. He doesn't think he would have the strength to move anyway. He feels almost like a cadaver waiting for autopsy. But, he is sure that he is not in the slightest dead.
He hopes.
Tears run down his face, and despite Charles trying to stop himself, his body jerks with sobs. They've left him alone in a cold, iron-grey room. His arm feels so swollen with the IV they've pushed into him, and if he could reach it, he would rip it out. The place where the IV is looks red and bulging, reacting to its presence. His tears feel hot and sticky; they leave streaks of crust down his face, and they're so itchy. He wants them off off off off off off off off off off.
He feels a leak of fluid dripping onto his lips from his nose, and that makes everything worse. What he would do for a handkerchief right now!
He floats back into sleep.
Charles wakes to a white room.
It is sterile.
It is bland.
It is ever-pressingly clean.
Even the white walls reflect back the colour white.
He finds his wrists bound to the bed in off-white rabbit fur that isn't tight and doesn't hurt. The lack of amenities in the room makes him wonder.
There is a man hovering over him. Charles doesn't know where he came from. He holds a clipboard in his hands, and he's gesturing to someone not quite there. Talking to someone, clearly, but Charles can't hear a thing he's saying.
Charles feels a sharp pinprick in his arm, but he doesn't see a syringe or an IV. The man leans over him and says, "But, you're not human, are you now?"
Charles doesn't know why he understands he can hear this man now of all times. He feels a hot puff of air on his ear, and though, he tries to crane his neck behind him, he can't. It hurts too much.
His eyes are heavy. But, he sees the man gesture to his abdomen over and over.
What if he's paralyzed?
His eyes are stinging with tears, and his face must be red after the slap he's just gotten. Nothing's fuzzy anymore. Everything is clear. The men standing over him, watching him like jackals at the slaughter. He already feels torn apart, and they're going to pick apart what's left.
The man's eyes squint as he smirks over Charles's supine body. "Hello, Xavier. Wakey wakey. We've got business to do."
"You can't do this to me! I'm a-"
"What, a citizen? You're not human, so you don't apply. And, the American government has every right to hold you as is right now. I've decided that I don't want your little friends to find you ever again, so first things first: you've been renamed to just plain number 10. Our tenth mutant in holding, that is." The man let out a satisfied sigh. "You're our best catch. No one can compare to you, not even that magnetic freak you've got with you. And, after I'm done with you, no will ever face you and live."
The man leaned over Charles and violently yanked out the IV. A stream of blood pored down Charles's arm, causing him to whimper despite his will not to show any weakness to this brute of a man.
"Now, 10, we know what you can do, and we've been taking precautions. Just like Shaw, we wear the metal that resists your powers, so don't bother straining yourself. You're paralyzed by the way. We had to check that McTaggert did her job right, but we found something else too: an obstruction in your abdomen. Our scientists think it might be a tumour, and we'll be taking samples from it within the week. I hope you don't mind that we won't be administering anaesthesia. During the operation, we want to test your telepathic skills as well. It won't hurt… much."
"You're a pig. And, when Erik finds me, he'll kill you." Charles could feel the sweat running down his face.
"Like I said, I don't think your pal's going to be looking around too soon for you. As far as he knows, you're dead. And, even if he did know, why would he bother? I thought you two lovebirds, and yes, we know about that as sick as it is, parted in not-so amicable ways." The man licked his lips almost menacingly before they widened into a wide fake grin. He spread out his arms as if asking whether anything else was to be expected from a man like himself.
"I hate you." Charles snarled, his lips curling. The man snickered as if everything were some paltry joke.
"Hate me all you like if that makes it easier for you, princess. I don't give a rat's ass what you do." The man gestured over to an attending who approached Charles with a syringe.
Charles's eyes fluttered back into his head, and his arms and legs felt disconnected from him. A racking cough is building within him, and he feels his body cradled gently. His eyes are fluttering rapidly, and he struggles against his captor. He just wants to get away from that man's vile touch.
"Charles, calm down!" It's Erik who's holding him. The man is nowhere in sight. He frowns to himself. Everything's just so hazy, and though, he tries to grasp onto that dream, one like the other one he'd had so long ago.
Erik's large hand is crushing their hips together, and it feels warm on his back.
"I had such a bad dream. I dreamt that you had left me and taken Raven and that you hated me." Charles couldn't stop himself from pouring out what he could remember, but Erik hushed him.
"We're still here, Charles. Maybe our ideologies don't see eye to eye, but we've always known there is a compromise between my militancy and your peace. You've always said so." Erik feels Charles nod slowly on his chest.
"How is everyone? Is anyone hurt?" Charles's eyes are wide with terror. He can't bear to think that his idiotic actions have gotten anyone hurt or worse killed.
"Everyone's fine. Stop worrying. Everyone's been worried about you. You've been in and out of fever for days now. Hank was even worried that you were paralyzed, but you've been kicking in your sleep like you always do." Erik grinned down at Charles who lay down on a mountain of pillows and under a few blankets. "Look, get some sleep. I'm going to tell everyone how you are. Just take these pills before you do."
Erik sort of prowls out of the room. Charles sleepily thinks that Erik is the most deadly predator on Planet Earth.
Erik goes immediately to Raven. Charles's feverish dreams have been telling terrible terrible things, and they both feel guilty for the harsh words they had with Charles before their mission in Cuba.
"He's awake, Raven." Raven is startled by his sudden appearance, momentarily flickering between her blue and blonde states before settling back on blue.
"Have you told him yet?" Erik sighs, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he does so.
"Of course, not. He's barely cognizant as it is. I don't want to worry him. I don't think he remembers much of Cuba anyway, and that's probably for the best."
"But, Erik… what he was talking about… don't you worry? What if Charles is manifesting a second power like Emma? She always said that her diamond form came years after her telepathy. What if Charles is seeing into the future? What if he-"
Erik glares at her, forcing eye contact on her, and Raven can't bare his anger. "No. We don't tell him anything until he gets better. He doesn't have a tumour. He isn't going to die. We do nothing!"
Raven sighs and folds her hands neatly into her lap. Her mouth is pressed into a hard thin line, and she glances over at Erik who has cradled his head into his hands.
"Erik, he's a telepath. He'll figure it out."
"I know… I know, but what we might have done to him. I can't bear to think of that. What if he had dies?" Erik just shakes his head. He doesn't want to think of it at all. "No, the best thing for us to do now is take care of him."
"Oh, Erik…I don't know anymore…. I wish Charles could help us, but if he could, then we wouldn't really need the help." She giggles remembering Charles's meddling in her love life: imparting dating advice onto her and trying to scare off her boyfriends.
But, Erik, he looked just as bad as Charles: deep purple smudges under his eyes, a sallow face, bloodshot eyes, and a lack of control with his metal medium. He needed the sleep too.
"Erik, go back, and stay with Charles. I'll tell everyone else that Charles is awake again. I'm sure that Hank will be happy to hear that." But, Erik just gives her that contemptuous look again before sighing and heading back upstairs. "I know you're worried, but you need to take care of yourself too, or when Charles gets better, he'll pout you back into submission and health."
Erik snorts at what he privately thinks is the most accurate description he's heard of Charles in a long time.
A/N: Hi! It's Skel here. So, I'll be really busy the next few weeks for work stuff. Ergo, updates for all of my stories will be slower than usual unfortunately.
Now, I was wondering whether you wanted me to do alternate forks for this fic? I have my idea pretty set up, but some of have been guessing on the direction of the story. Would you rather I continue with what I have now (and where you won't know how the story ends), or do you want me to split up the story and write one storyline where it is a dream and another where it isn't a dream? It's up to you, but know that I'll probably finish this fic before writing its alternate, if that's what you want.