now my sins are coming home to roost [closed]
who ; Charles and Raimi
what ; Charles gets a canon update and is less than impressed by his sudden paralysis.
where ; Zone 07.
when ; Forward dated a bit to the 21st.
warning(s) ; Unhappy subject matter.
Between one heartbeat and the next, everything changes. He remembers the beach, Shaw's death, arguing with Erik, the gunfire, the hot sun and the missiles and registering the sound of the shot before he felt the pain of it at all.
Everything changes.
He spends several hours in surgery, several weeks in the hospital, several months in rehabilitation. Everything seems helpless and hopeless both and he's told he'll never walk again.
The progression of his life, in snapshots. Meeting Raven. Growing up. Driving too fast in a cherry red Aston Martin. Being at Oxford, the parties, the drinking, the sheer damnable fun of it all. Meeting Moira, who lead him to Erik. A frigid ocean. Gathering the children, learning of Darwin's death, playing chess with Erik in his study and at the end of it all-
Failure. So bright and sharp that it seemed fit to split the sky.
He remembers the perfect blue overhead, the saltwater breeze, that moment where he could do nothing but say 'I'm sorry, but we do not'.
It's a little like having vertigo, a little like having déjà vu. It's a lot like being paralyzed.
Which is the point, he supposes. But he dreams of that beach forever after, dreams of standing barefoot in the surf, wriggling his toes in the sand.
When he drops back out of the teleporter it's like taking an icewater bath, like being a puppet with abruptly cut strings. It all looks very undignified, no doubt, but he can't quite bring himself to care, not when a moment's casting about with his telepathy tells him he's entirely alone. He doesn't panic, doesn't rail at his fate.
He thinks of his sister, then, and presses his cheek against the pavement. A moment. All he needs is a moment. To gather his thoughts, to wallow briefly in the self-pitying morass that his life has become. And when that moment is over he curls his fingers against his palm and smacks his knuckles into the concrete, not nearly hard enough to split the skin so much as merely sting. It hurts, but it's a motivator as well. So, with energy, he gets himself onto his back and drags himself out of the immediate path of anyone else using the teleporter. He loses a shoe.
His chest is tight, and he's willing to bet it's not from physical exertion. For a moment, it's all he can do to rub the gravel from his palms and will himself not to bloody well break down sobbing.
Calm. He has to remain calm.
By the wearable's count, he's been gone for a mere six days. Not nearly enough for anyone to be up in arms about his disappearance. Not enough to draw attention to his-situation.
He spares a moment to look through his contact list, and hovers briefly on Erik's name. No.
Instead, he calls Raimi Matthews, and leaves him a brief, succinct message.
"Hello Raimi, it's Charles. If you were ever of a mind to return that favour of some months ago, now would be a wonderful time. Residential zone 09, near the teleporters. Thank you."
He keeps his voice light, though he can do nothing about the underlying stress to it. And then, all he can do is wait.
what ; Charles gets a canon update and is less than impressed by his sudden paralysis.
where ; Zone 07.
when ; Forward dated a bit to the 21st.
warning(s) ; Unhappy subject matter.
Between one heartbeat and the next, everything changes. He remembers the beach, Shaw's death, arguing with Erik, the gunfire, the hot sun and the missiles and registering the sound of the shot before he felt the pain of it at all.
Everything changes.
He spends several hours in surgery, several weeks in the hospital, several months in rehabilitation. Everything seems helpless and hopeless both and he's told he'll never walk again.
The progression of his life, in snapshots. Meeting Raven. Growing up. Driving too fast in a cherry red Aston Martin. Being at Oxford, the parties, the drinking, the sheer damnable fun of it all. Meeting Moira, who lead him to Erik. A frigid ocean. Gathering the children, learning of Darwin's death, playing chess with Erik in his study and at the end of it all-
Failure. So bright and sharp that it seemed fit to split the sky.
He remembers the perfect blue overhead, the saltwater breeze, that moment where he could do nothing but say 'I'm sorry, but we do not'.
It's a little like having vertigo, a little like having déjà vu. It's a lot like being paralyzed.
Which is the point, he supposes. But he dreams of that beach forever after, dreams of standing barefoot in the surf, wriggling his toes in the sand.
When he drops back out of the teleporter it's like taking an icewater bath, like being a puppet with abruptly cut strings. It all looks very undignified, no doubt, but he can't quite bring himself to care, not when a moment's casting about with his telepathy tells him he's entirely alone. He doesn't panic, doesn't rail at his fate.
He thinks of his sister, then, and presses his cheek against the pavement. A moment. All he needs is a moment. To gather his thoughts, to wallow briefly in the self-pitying morass that his life has become. And when that moment is over he curls his fingers against his palm and smacks his knuckles into the concrete, not nearly hard enough to split the skin so much as merely sting. It hurts, but it's a motivator as well. So, with energy, he gets himself onto his back and drags himself out of the immediate path of anyone else using the teleporter. He loses a shoe.
His chest is tight, and he's willing to bet it's not from physical exertion. For a moment, it's all he can do to rub the gravel from his palms and will himself not to bloody well break down sobbing.
Calm. He has to remain calm.
By the wearable's count, he's been gone for a mere six days. Not nearly enough for anyone to be up in arms about his disappearance. Not enough to draw attention to his-situation.
He spares a moment to look through his contact list, and hovers briefly on Erik's name. No.
Instead, he calls Raimi Matthews, and leaves him a brief, succinct message.
"Hello Raimi, it's Charles. If you were ever of a mind to return that favour of some months ago, now would be a wonderful time. Residential zone 09, near the teleporters. Thank you."
He keeps his voice light, though he can do nothing about the underlying stress to it. And then, all he can do is wait.