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Erik woke up and instantly bit back a groan. He knew going to bed the night before he may have caught something. Charles seemed to be sick half his life, so Erik had gotten used to feeling invincible. But for once, Charles was entirely healthy and content, and going to sleep Erik had felt the sinister weight on his lungs that always seemed a bad omen. He tried to clear his throat a few times, but having no real impact, he had decided it wasn’t worth losing sleep over and rolled over.
Now he wished he’d taken something or done something because when he tried to sit up he felt himself literally fall backwards against the pillow with fatigue. His whole body ached, and his chest felt like a massive brick had been dropped on his lungs. He threaded a hand through his hair and sighed, wincing at the scratch of his throat and wheezing in his breath as he did so.
Charles stirred next to him, and Erik froze. Usually, Charles slept like the dead. Risking a slight glance, Erik tried to size up if he looked ill as well. He was sprawled- as per usual -and his hair was a mess, but there wasn’t any kind of feverish flush or clammy look about him. While Erik was evaluating, he saw Charles crack one eye open and look at Erik, his bright eyes always looked especially blue in the morning. Erik raised his brow, surprised to see Charles awake already.
“I heard you thinking- darling are you feeling alright?” Charles said by way of explanation. He’d always said that Erik was better at keeping thoughts to himself, but apparently no one was perfect.
“I feel fine,” Erik said. Both he and Charles heard the painful rasp in his voice, but if Charles was going to mention it Erik didn’t give him a chance to, instead he threw the blanket off and stood, not allowing a cough to rise in his throat as he did so.
“Where are you going?” Charles asked. Erik sighed heavily, swallowing to try to smooth his throat.
“On a run. Go back to sleep,” He said simply. He’d slept in a bit, but it was still before seven and Charles had no business being awake at this hour. He knew the man hadn’t been to bed until late the night before.
Charles however hated little more than being told what he could or couldn’t do, so he sat bolt upright at that, scowling at Erik needlessly. Erik lifted his hands in surrender as he opened the closet. He usually slept in workout clothes anyway, half the time just running in them to save time in the mornings, but he was feeling rather cold so he made sure to grab an extra layer.
“You are not going running this morning,” Charles said, and Erik had to bite back a sound of annoyance as Charles transferred to his chair.
“Thank you for your opinion on it, Charles, I didn’t realize how desperately I needed it.” He replied.
“Dear, come here, let me feel your forehead,” Charles said groggily, wrapping a hand around Erik’s wrist. Erik flinched slightly, before pulling his hand away in a more measured way. “I would just reach over and feel it, but unfortunately someone put me in this chair…”
“I believe I just watched you put yourself in it this morning.” Erik shot back. Still, he humored Charles and leaned down.
“Everyone's a comedian- oh dear Erik sweetheart you are burning up, lay back down.”
“No, thank you, Charles.”
“Erik I swear do not go out you will make yourself ten times sicker.” Charles got that slightly flustered look about him he always did when he was feeling indigent. He was waking up, eyes bright and alarmed. Erik smiled at him. “Or don’t even come to sleep, but skip your run for your lungs, please? And just lay with me.”
“No, thank you though schatz,” Erik said, leaning down and kissing Charles’s forehead.
“Erik…” Charles winced as his tone turned more authoritative. More inpatient. It was a tone he used when a student tried to push his buttons. Erik knew it. So did Charles. Erik backed out the door, flashing a sharks grin.
“Go back to bed.” Erik said, pointing at him as the door swung shut. He watched as he left how Charles opened his mouth, clearly ready to argue. He likely would have followed him out if he wasn’t in pajamas.
Charles didn’t know what he was talking about anyway. Erik could push through it.
--
Charles was not as dumb as Erik had thought.
This was quickly becoming apparently about 3 miles in. Within the first minute it was clear to Erik he wasn’t going to be able to run like normal. He was only going to do five miles today, not eight. He wasn’t going to push himself. Still, a little over halfway through, he found himself on the ground, head between his knees, heaving for air.
His legs had failed him. It really seemed like a lot of dramatics from his body, that the gasping for air was not for show. His vision had fully gone as he’d tried to pick up speed while rounding a corner, and he’d hit the ground hard. His knee was scraped like he was a little boy, and he felt about as big as one as he picked himself up, dusting the dirt off and looking around to see if he was the only one around still. Luckily he was. Unluckily, his husband and arch-nemesis was plotting his downfall. And by that, he meant waiting for him in the mansion. He could feel his impatience pressing on his mind. Not invading, just… there.
Erik, as much as he pretended to hate it, felt his legs shake and buckle under him and instinctively leaned into Charles’s connection. His breath came in the short punctuated gasps he usually heard on a battlefield. His chest burned like he’d poured boiling water in it. His airway burned, lungs barely expanding. He couldn’t seem to stop the awful awkward noises his airway made when he tried to drag air in.
How’s that run going darling?
Erik didn’t even have the energy to jump when he heard Charles in his mind. He had leaned into the psychic link. It made him feel better a moment ago, repercussions be damned. And here they were, damning him.
Smug isn’t a good look on you. Erik thought back as firmly as he could. He didn’t know what made a thought an ‘outside’ thought as Charles referred to it, but he was pretty sure that one would get through. Sure enough, a moment later, Charles replied.
‘Tiny Tim’s’ lungs aren’t a good look on you. Charles replied. Do you need help?
I do not need help. And a Christmas Carol reference in February? Really?
Erik was eternally grateful you couldn’t cough mid thought because he couldn’t seem to stop. Charles, thankfully, left Erik to heave up a lung in peace. After several minutes of desperate gasping, Erik was able to even his breath and heart rate, slowing down his gulps for air, and stand up only a little shakily.
He’d ripped the knee in his running pants, and mentally he cursed the sewing job he would be doing later. It wasn’t going to be a simple one he could already tell.
He quickly shook off his injury, refusing to limp on top of his ragged breath. As he walked he tried to root through his mind and what it was that might have caused such a steep drop off in his health. He had a couple of suspicions outside of his own body's immunal-betrayal. But nothing likely he could do about it now. He dragged himself in through the door, immediately seeing a rather smug-looking Charles at the top of the stairs.
“Hello there.”
There was a combination of gloating and concern in Charles’s tone. Erik huffed immediately, crossing his arms like a petulant child and biting back a cough as he did so. Charles looked pretty damn proud of himself, and Erik wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. He climbed the stairs as quickly as he could, walking past Charles in a huff as he swallowed down a cough.
“Erik would you at least let me check your temperature-”
Charles’s gentle question was met with a door slam to the face. Erik was expecting this to be the end of the conversation.
Someday he would stop underestimating Charles.
Without a word the door flew back open, and it took him a moment to realize that Charles had actually reached through Erik’s mind to unlock it. Which Erik only let slide because it was actually Charles’s room, and a fair thing to not want to be locked out of. Still, he was far from happy.
“Need something?” Erik winced at the rasp in his tone, but he painfully cleared his throat and put his hands on his hips, looking at Charles like he was a complete idiot. Which might have been more effective if half his body wasn’t covered in wood chips and dirt.
“Honestly Erik I pegged you for smarter than a five-year-old,” Charles wheeled in in a huff, barely slowing down to squeeze his chair through the awkwardly sized doorway. “Stop being petulant and take some bloody medicine before you end up in the ground.”
“Your melodramatics would be better suited to a women, Charles,” Erik said, not even attempting to curve the bite in his voice. Charles looked unimpressed with the insult.
“As if half your team isn’t. I would think you would know better.” Charles said, scowling.
“You are right, you're not acting like a woman. Just hysterical then. Got it.” Erik said, pulling his top off and pausing for just a moment to steady himself on the door.
“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re being a areshole for no reason.” Charles said, wheeling quickly into the bathroom after him. “At least take some medication.”
“you’re treating me like a child,” Erik said.
“You are acting like a child.”
Erik spun around, eyes narrow and jaw set. If Charles was going to play like that he knew how to play.
“Oh, why don’t you go get my medication for me then?” He asked.
He barely registered the words as he spoke them. It was a low blow. Charles was perpetually afraid of abusing the medicines in their cabinet or worse. It was kept well out of reach of him, and he relied on Erik to even give him a Tylenol if he had a headache. It had always been a sore spot.
Expecting that to be the end of it, Erik turned back around, throwing his ripped sweats into the hamper. He would deal with that mess later.
“Erik do not test me.” Charles’s voice came low and steady. Erik laughed, throwing a scowl over his shoulder. His chest ached with the urge to cough, and his voice rasped, but he wouldn’t let either creep into his tone as he desperately tried to avoid Charles.
“Oh, how frightened I am.” He said. “Now are you going to watch me shower as well? If you’re treating me like a student I might have to make a report.”
They held eye contact for several seconds, a silent battle of the wills.
Charles left, but it wasn’t over.
---
Erik wouldn’t have been surprised by a lot of things, but seeing Charles in front of him, staring with anger written all over his face, was high on the list of things he did not expect. Arms crossed, Charles had his brow set and a slightly pouty look that always seemed to accompany a lecture with him. Erik, not in the mood, tried to walk past him. Much to his surprise, Charles held him with his powers, not his words, freezing Erik in place.
“Were you in Kazakhstan this year?” Charles asked, his tone sharp.
He didn’t have a fight in him, but that had never stopped Erik before. He blew past Charles, throwing a scowl over his shoulder. Charles didn’t even seem bothered, just followed closely behind. Erik pulled the towel tighter around his waist, bringing his shoulders up a little defensively as a shiver wracked his frame.
“Erik.”
“What’s the matter to you?” Erik asked, setting his jaw. "Why are you acting like this?"
“Because you twit, you’re not just sick. Look at this.”
Charles grabbed Erik’s hand, pulling his attention away from the dresser he had been staring blankly at. Charles was holding some kind of scientific jargon organized into paragraphs that Erik could barely focus his eyes on. He instead lifted his gaze to Charles in a hazy half aware sense. He hoped it looked disinterested and not like he was clinging to consciousness.
“What’s this supposed to mean?” Erik asked.
“Fifteen mutants in the states have been in Kazakhstan in the last 6 months. Twelve of them have died. All of them had an unknown infestation of spores in their lungs that had a delayed onset and caused high fever, dizziness, disorientation, and in some cases death. Erik please, I don’t care about fighting you, but this could be bad.”
“I possibly passed through.” Erik gritted out. Charles gave him a look that could have made any lesser man resort to tears. “Possibly.”
“Erik you are going to be the death of me. You really are.” Charles hissed. Erik said nothing, avoiding Charles’s bright and raging eyes. “Listen to me, I will gladly go in loops with you over most anything but I am begging you. If you want to avoid the hospital you need to stop and rest.”
Erik's blood ran cold.
Before he could even retort, Charles wheeled even closer, taking one of Erik’s hands and putting it on the armrest of his wheelchair. It wasn’t until then that Erik realized he’d been leaning backward ever so slightly.
“Darling I don’t want to take you there I know exactly how it makes you feel,” Charles spoke with a deceptively soft tone. “But I would rather that than you die. If you don’t want me to go that route…”
“I will lay down. For a little bit.”
--
Charles was wheeling back and forth, biting his knuckles intermittently as he stared at Hank. They had four petri dishes in front of them, each under their own isolated incubator. He caught Hanks eye quickly, and immediately wheeled away, staring out the window instead.
“It’s going to take days to be able to tell Charles.”
Charles took a deep breath, scowling into his hand for just a moment before smoothing his face over. He knew how this went, he had done this before, but Hank didn’t mean to condescend.
“I am sorry, I am just worried is all.” Charles said.
“Because of the disease or because of who has it?” Hank asked. Charles threw him a glance. “I’m just asking.”
“I’m just worried in general.” Charles bit back, with slightly more force than necessary. Hank raised his hands in surrender. “It’s awful, all of it.”
“I know. The chance that it is targeting mutants specifically…”
Charles made a noise in the back of his throat. It was a horrifying idea. He didn’t even know how exactly they would be doing that, each mutant had a unique set of genes that had been altered to show their powers. It would be near impossible to make something target all of them. He was planning on looking for common threads among those who had been sick. Surely there were more than 15- or now 16 mutants that had been in Kazakhstan. He feared they had targeted some form of subtype of mutation, which could have beyond devastating effects. If that technology existed it could be worse than any had yet imagined. But he hadn’t been able to focus on his work.
“How is he doing?”
Charles scowled at Hank, scrubbing a hand over his face.
“how in the bloody world should I know that?” Charles asked. Hank gave him a look. “He went to bed at 11 and hasn’t gotten up since.”
“Having some vitals could prove useful,” Hank said slowly. Charles turned and looked at him. “I am just saying, monitoring would be good. See if you can take some blood while he is out. He is weird about that.”
“Justifiably so I am afraid,” Charles said. “I suppose I will.”
It was a favor, but neither of them would say it out loud, that Hank told Charles to go. It wasn’t like he was going to be much use in the lab anyway. Not much left to do but wait for the spores to develop or not.
Wheeling into their room, Charles felt his stomach drop. Erik didn’t just look sick, he looked near dead. His skin had an awful grey parlor and shivers wracked his frame. Charles immediately pulled the blankets off of the floor where they seemed to have been thrown and arranged them over Erik again, feeling his forehead with the back of his hand as he did so. Erik twitched a little, but didn’t wake up.
“Oh darling, what have they done to you?” He whispered, smoothing his sweaty hair off his forehead.
He pressed a chaste kiss there, feeling Erik stir a little beneath him. Pulling back, he found Erik’s eyes meeting his. They swam with confusion and pain, and Charles felt the same in his mind. Erik’s brow furrowed slightly, but he seemed too tired to form coherent works. Instead, he pressed a vague feeling towards Charles.
Charles-okay-get-sick
“Oh my love I am fine. I am completely fine, don’t worry.” Charles whispered. “I can’t catch this from you. You my dear however seem to be rapidly approaching respiratory distress. I am afraid I am going to leave you just for a moment to get you something to help you get a little more air okay?”
Erik gave a faint nod, but Charles felt a slight pang of sadness from him as he said he was leaving. He kissed Erik’s forehead again, grabbing one of his hands.
“I will be right back, I promise. Have you been awake since you laid down?”
Erik gave the smallest shrug of his shoulders, and Charles was confident that the true answer was ‘yes, many times’ but he didn’t push it. He pulled the blanket more tightly around Erik, making sure he was secure and comfortable before backing his chair up. He squeezed Erik’s arm, before pivoting quickly.
“Just a moment.” He reassured, leaving before he lost the nerve.
He speed back to the lab, seemingly to Hank's surprise, because he fully startled when Charles emerged. One look at his face seemed to be all the information Hank needed because he actually winced when he saw him.
“That bad?”
“He needs oxygen,” Charles said.
“Fuck.”
Hank rarely swore, and it made Charles’s skin prickle. He didn’t like it. It was an admission to just how far out of the norm this all was. He quickly grabbed an oxygen canister and nose cannula, looking at Hank after a second.
“I’m afraid if this doesn’t help him we’re going to need to either take him to the hospital or intubate him ourselves,” Charles said.
“Really?”
“He looks dead, his skin’s all grey and cold,” Charles said, biting his lip. Hank nodded, brow furrowed. “And I really don’t want to try to manage him in the hospital. I think he might be hallucinating as well… his thoughts are so disjointed but there was some kind of paranoia or delusion I picked up on. Or- more so than usual for him.”
“Go- take the oxygen. I will see if we have the stuff to do that here. I can go get it even. If the issue is his lungs it shouldn’t be as hard to do as if it were his throat.”
It was a wildly reckless idea, but that was kind of their thing. Charles nodded, turning and carrying the treasured cargo with him into the elevator. He made it back, the trip taking less than five minutes, and Erik seemed already to be getting worse. Charles sucked in his lip, approaching the bed and quickly setting the oxygen up. Erik had sat up a bit against the headboard and he seemed to be trying to breathe in, but his lungs were fighting him. Such a sharp decline from just three hours ago made Charles nervous.
“Hello my love, we need to put this on alright?” Charles asked, speaking as evenly as he could, even while his tone threatened to shake.
Erik's eyes were wide, and he looked suspicious. Charles could feel distrust radiating off of him.
“I know, I promise this will make you feel better. It’s just giving you more air okay?” Charles said. Erik gave no indication that he heard him.
Left with no other option, Charles turned the oxygen up to its maximum and moved to put it over Erik’s head. Instead, Erik flinched back, throwing himself away from Charles and batting at him weakly. The metal in the room shuttered with no real intention. Erik's breath picked up drastically, but it only led to a horrible, deep cough ripping through him.
“Hey hey, it’s just me, it’s just me. You are alright love, it’s just me. It’s Charles.” Charles held his hands up. Erik barely seemed to hear him, and Charles went into his mind, pushing past the primal panic for air and settling in there.
You are okay my darling, let me help you breathe. You need to breathe.
Erik still seemed very disoriented and afraid, but he settled into himself a little more, letting himself lean towards Charles. He seemed to be doing better with mental communication. Well done love. Come, this tube gives oxygen alright? It is just going on your face.
Erik allowed it, holding eye contact with Charles as Charles tried to focus on ignoring the shake in his hands and threading the nose cannula through his ears and situating it properly. He held Eriks gaze once he could, nodding his reassurance. Erik took a hesitant breath, seeming to relax slightly as more oxygen reached his brain. Charles felt like he could cry.
There you are. It’s just normal air but it has more oxygen in it than what we normally breathe. It helps because your lungs aren’t working well right now.
Erik nodded a little, a shiver rippling through his frame. Charles's heart clenched, and he reached a hand out to him. Erik took it quickly, and Charles pulled him a little closer. Erik relaxed back down on the bed, and Charles did his best to smooth a hand over his tense shoulders.
Me and Hank are working very hard to be able to keep you at home and out of the hospital. Charles said. Erik didn’t speak even mentally, but a combination of gratitude and fear surged toward Charles. All intertwined with painful vulnerability. I know how you hate them, darling. I think we can keep you here.
Stay.
That was the only coherent word Charles could get from Erik’s mind and it made him want to cry.
We will try to keep you here I promise. Charles projected at him. Erik blinked at him expectantly, and Charles could feel he wasn’t content with the answer. Erik felt misunderstood, that much he could interpret, but he wasn’t sure why. What is it love?
You?
Erik was staring with a lot of intention into Charles and it finally clicked. “Bloody fucking hell Erik of course I will stay. Honestly. You think I would go anywhere?”
He was so startled by it he responded out loud. Erik gave a half-crooked smile.
“Well, you are wrong. God, you are thick.”
He felt tears forming in his eyes against his will, and despite blinking furiously one slid down his cheek. Scrubbing it away, he positioned his chair a little closer to Erik's bed. “Oh, you complete moron. I am not going to leave you like this. I don’t think I could leave you ever. Just… keep breathing deep for me okay? We will go from there.”
Erik pressed more gratitude and care towards Charles as his head lulled to the side. Charles could feel the sheer exhaustion setting in. He squeezed Erik's hand, slipping into his mind and soothing some of the fears. The paranoia had subsided some with the additional oxygen, but he pushed the rest aside, planting warm thoughts instead.
Rest now, darling. You’re going to be just fine.
--
Erik's lungs hurt. That was the only thing on his mind. He could barely blink his eyes open, and when he tried his skin itself hurt. Even blinking was painful. He tried to sit up, but his hands barely moved to the mattress before he gave up. Moving his hands felt bad enough. Instantly upon moving, he felt peace wash over him. He felt good, safe, and warm. The pain subsided to about half of what it was before.
Suspicious.
Forcing his eyes properly open, he saw exactly who he expected. He tried to clear his throat to speak, but his lungs seized and he flew upwards, clutching at his throat as a cough ripped through him. It was awful and grating, each forced breath out felt like sandpaper. He tried to drag air in, but it didn’t seem to want to go. A hand found its way to his back, rubbing gentle circles between his shoulder blades. He shuddered, trying to get control of his lungs.
“Oh darling, I am so sorry.” A soft, sleepy voice filtered over the noise of his battle for air. Looking up he saw Charles sitting near him. Not hovering, but close enough to feel comfortable. He tried to speak again, but it had similar results.
Thoughts my love. Just think I will hear you. Charles’s voice echoed in his head, and Erik glanced gratefully at him. Try to breathe through your nose if you can, it’ll help you get the oxygen from the cannula.
He gave a half smile to Charles, trying to do as instructed. Charles beamed at him, rubbing up and down his back a little firmer. Charles pressed a kiss to Erik’s bare shoulder, smoothing over the skin. For some reason Charles’s hands didn’t hurt at all, even when everything else did. Erik half wondered if that was a psychic thing. He didn’t think so.
Thank you, he thought as clearly as possible. Charles shook his head.
“No reason to thank me my dear, none at all. You’re doing well.”
Erik didn’t even have a side eye at the condescension in him, he just stared at Charles. Charles swallowed hard, looking back at him. Finally, Erik had it in him to ask what he really wanted to know.
Am I dying?
“No,” Charles said. His tone was confident, but tears sprung to his eyes as he spoke. Erik found the last bit of strength in his body and gave him a skeptical look. “Oh stop it. No, you are not, but it is very bad right now. It could take a turn. We don’t know.”
Are you okay?
Charles pulled back from Erik for just a moment, scrubbing a hand over his face and shaking his head before scowling at him.
What?
“My darling idiot. I am fine don’t even think about me right now.” Charles insisted. Erik rolled his eyes. “Your fever has gone up, but you seem more with it. How do you feel- oh right well stupid question I’ve got that.”
Apparently, Erik wasn’t too out of it to scowl.
“Could I do anything to help?”
He was too embarrassed to admit what he wanted, even in his head, so Erik avoided Charles’s eyes, looking down at their intertwined hands. Charles seemed to understand. He always did.
“I will stay if you’d like.”
Erik nodded carefully. Charles brought the hand up to his mouth, kissing his knuckles.
I don’t like this Charles.
He knew he was more out of it than ever because what on earth was he even doing admitting things so recklessly? Charles paused for a moment and seemed to swallow back tears. His face always said what he was thinking anyway.
“I know,” Charles whispered.
I’m worse than I thought. I keep… Erik didn’t finish the thought, breaking eye contact. Seeing things. People.
“Who?” The question had a touch more urgency than Erik liked.
Shaw.
Charles almost physically recoiled at the name. His lips turned into a thin white line. His hands grew tighter around Eriks. He looked almost angry.
It’s nothing. I know it isn’t real.
“May I?” Charles’s fingers brushed Erik's temple. Erik nodded, and within a moment, the anxiety, dread, and nausea, it all faded, along with the hazy, morphing hallucinations he’d been firmly ignoring. The only face that ever became clear was Shaws. In spite of himself, Erik sagged heavily into the pillows the moment it fully left. “There you are, dear.”
Lay with me? Erik couldn’t open his eyes right now if he wanted to, but he especially was happy to not see Charles’s face when he asked. Charles, through sniffles, spoke immediately.
“Of course.”
--
Charles lied.
Okay, he didn’t lie. He just gave the truth he wanted.
Because with Erik laying curled up on the bed, his back to Charles’s chest, shaking violently while he burned with fever, his breaths hardly racking in through his damaged lungs, Charles had no idea if he was going to pull through.
He had sent Hank to go buy the stuff to intubate. Erik seemed stable, but he wasn’t risking it. He’d taken blood samples and saliva while Erik had been asleep and handed them over to Hank. Hank did him the favor of pretending Erik wasn’t curled practically in Charles’s lap. Not even friendly teasing. They were somewhere much too scary for that. In fact, when leaving Hank had turned to Charles and spoken in an uneasy, clipped tone.
“If you think you have to make the call, Erik would rather be in the hospital than dead.”
Hank had similarly pretended to not see a single tear fall.
“I am not so sure.”
That had been 45 minutes ago. Charles hadn’t felt his stomach unknot since. He made sure to keep Erik's dreams calm and keep tabs on his vitals as best he could. Every time Charles even half shifted normally Erik would be sitting bolt upright. But now even with Charles’s fussing he didn’t seem to stir. Once he’d sifted just enough to press his face into Charles’s stomach, letting out an awful rasped sigh. Charles hadn’t so much as taken a deep breath since.
“Oh forgive me love,” Charles murmured under his breath before he shifted. Out of the bed, away from Erik, and into his chair. Erik made a half moan but nothing more. “I know I said I would stay, but darling I also promised to keep you out of the hospital, and if we are going to do that I have some work to do.”
Erik couldn’t hear him or respond, but Charles ignored that.
Quickly as possible, he wheeled away, not risking a look over his shoulder. He knew seeing Erik right now wouldn’t let him continue with what needed to be done. It wasn’t going to take more than a few hours he hoped, which should be fine. So his stomach dropping as the door closed behind him made very little sense. He would be right back.
And Erik would be fine.
---
“Erik my love, I am going to give you something to help you start to feel better, may I see your arm?”
Charles spoke even though he could see Erik was bordering on unresponsive. He stayed collapsed against the bed, eyes barely fliting open. His skin was cold and clammy again, and Charles winced as he brushed his fingers against it. Erik didn’t move, as expected, and Charles grabbed his arm out from the blankets, quickly sterilizing the area.
He’d never placed an IV before, but he was fairly confident. Erik was dehydrated, but his arm naturally was veiny, so he was able to tie off the arm and locate one without too much trouble. He whispered an apology as he pierced the skin, but shockingly first try he was able to collect a few samples of blood and flush the line before putting the medication in.
“Darling, I am giving you Ipratropium and Methylprednisolone, it should make your lungs feel just a wee bit better until I can get the right medications set for you okay?” Charles said, raising his voice just a little. Erik squinted his eyes open. “I am going to put some fluids in you alright? It’ll help you get your strength up.”
Charles?
Charles was almost startled as Erik’s thoughts consolidated enough to call out. He quickly finished hanging the fluids before grabbing Erik’s hand, brow knit together.
“Yes love?” Charles asked. Erik blinked up at the ceiling. His eyes were clearly barely focusing. “What is it?”
Love you
Charles had to turn away, biting his lips into a line and turning away before turning back and giving him the most earnest smile he felt he ever had.
I love you too. He thought towards Erik. You’re doing brilliant, I promise we will get you through this.
Erik scrunched his face slightly, before squeezing Charles’s hand and rolling over, his breaths rasping painfully as he did so. Charles pressed a kiss to Erik’s shoulder, before turning away.
“I’ve got to get back to the lab, but I will be back very soon my dear. Hold on tight for me alright?” Charles asked, swallowing down tears. He didn’t get a response. “I will be back, I promise.”
The moment he left, Charles pressed his hands to his eyes, trying to push the tears down. Crying wouldn’t help Erik.
He was starting to worry very little would.
Still, he was starting with a base of incredibly potent medication, hoping that the powerful anti-fungal would be easily adapted to whatever was going on with Erik specifically. He hurried around the lab, cursing his chair and the way it slowed him down. The spores had barely started to grow in the petri dishes, and Charles knew it wasn’t ideal for testing, but he didn’t really have time to play with ideals. He was going to start testing for response anyway, they were growing plenty of dishes for him to spare a few.
“Are you alright?”
Hank startled him out of his focused state, and he pivoted, scowling at him as he scrubbed his face.
“Bloody fucking hell yes Hank I am just fine.” Charles snapped. “Other than the ten years you took off my life slinking about as you do.”
“Apologies,” Hank said, not looking like he meant it. “Do you think we have to intubate?”
“I don’t bloody know. Maybe. His oxygen seems a bit better but his skin’s not warmed up, and he still looks half dead.” Charles said. Hank pursed his lips. “I am trying to adapt Amphotericin B to see if we can use it as a launching pad for something or other.”
“That’s a strong medication,” Hank said. Charles shot him a side-eye.
“Yes well, it’s a strong infection,” Charles said, scowling.
“Oh no, I believe that it is,” Hank said.
“Right, so then the reason that we are thinking such… wild and intense thoughts?”
“You sure he can take that medicine?” Hank asked. Charles bit his lip. “I am just saying…”
“I didn’t realize a degree in biophysics would equip you to be so attuned to what Erik can withstand,” Charles said, putting a little extra emphasis on Erik’s name.
No one ever said his name.
“I didn’t realize a degree in genetics gave you the knowledge to modify Amphotericin B.” Hank shot back. Charles shook his head.
“He won’t go to the hospital and to be honest they won’t do much to help him anyway. He needs something.” Charles said. “And I am terrified of…”
He stopped himself, shaking his head.
“I can tell.”
“He will be fine,” Charles said firmly, scowling down as a tear escaped. He ignored it. So did Hank.
“Right,” Hank said. “Well I got the tubbing and machine and everything. It’s highway robbery, so I put it on your card.”
“Oh I have too much bloody money as it is, thank you.” Charles said. “I’m going to be… I suppose reading on how to do that.”
“Let me, I am not sure you can with the uh…” Hank trailed off, hand rubbing at the back of his neck when Charles looked up. “Chair.”
“Be my guest, save me time.” Charles said. He had gotten good at speaking like his soul wasn’t leaving him at the same time. Hank barely took note of the flush in his cheeks. “I think this is almost ready to go.”
“You’re really going to give it to him?” Hank asked. Charles sighed, putting a hand to his forehead, then running a hand through his hair.
“I think so. He’s getting worse. We have to try something.” Charles said. Hank shrugged, looking away. “No really Hank, tell me what is a better alternative?”
“I just have always been wary of injecting random untested treatments into people, sue me.” Hank said. Charles laughed.
“Well, not always my friend,” Charles said, drawing up the medication into a syringe.
He ignored the absolute fear humming from Hank's mind, little snippets about all the damage Charles may be about to inflict ping-ponging from Hank into his own brain. He didn’t have time for drug trials right now, he had to save Erik. He hoped that was what he was doing at least.
Returning to Erik's bedside cemented in his mind this was the right choice. Solely because he had never seen him look worse. Pale blue lips and dark purple fingertips felt like a knife right to his heart. He injected the medication into the IV before he tried to stir Erik, not letting himself think twice. It was a deceptively simple process, delivering what may very well kill the man he loved straight to his blood.
“Hello there dear,” Charles whispered, pushing Erik's hair back so it stood on end, a little rumpled. Are you with me?
Charles. Was all Erik thought. Then after several seconds, he followed up with I am seeing things again. Don’t like it at all.
“Oh sweetheart, I know,” Charles whispered, unable to bite back the tears welling in his eyes. “I know. Hank is going to intubate you here in a moment.”
He got no response, and he laid his head down on Erik's arm.
I gave you something I think is going to help. Tell me if you feel worse.
I can’t feel worse.
Charles wanted to scream. He took one of Erik's limp hands and brought it to his mouth, kissing the back of it even as tears spilled over his eyes. With what must have taken monumental force, Erik cracked his eyes open and stared at Charles.
“Hello love,” Charles said, trying for a smile. Your eyes are beautiful.
Don’t patronize me. Erik thought at him. Charles chuckled at that.
Can’t I compliment you without you taking offense? Charles thought. Erik blinked slowly at him, looking dazed. I am going to call Hank up, alright?
Will you stay? Erik asked, even in his mind sounding bashful and apprehensive. Charles nodded his head, still holding Erik's hand to his mouth. It was unlike Erik to feel so cold. He ran warmer than Charles. This was an inverse of their norm and he hated it. Alright then.
Charles didn’t bother leaving, instead intruding in Hank's mind with less subtlety than he normally used. He needed Hank now. Hank upstairs, Erik's oxygen is atrocious. We need to intubate.
I am not sure if I can Hank said. His voice was notably different in Charles’s mind. More of an intrusion than second nature.
No bloody point in learning if Erik dies while we wait. He can manage a sore throat.
Charles bit his lip, moving Erik's hand and drying his eyes. Erik had closed his eyes, but he opened them again as Charles moved away and gave him the most pathetic stare Charles had ever seen. It made him nauseous.
My dear, do you know what intubation is? Charles asked. Erik didn’t respond but impressed on his mind that he did not. It’s going to basically breathe for you. I am going to put you unconscious while he does it, so that it doesn’t hurt.
Don’t Erik said. Charles bit his lip.
“Darling it’s not an easy process. It will feel like you’ve got water down the wrong way times a dozen. I don’t want you to go through that.” Charles said, hoping that speaking it out loud impressed the importance on Erik.
Don’t want it to happen while I am asleep. Erik affirmed again. Charles sighed, biting his cheek.
“I will try to help while you’re awake. If it gets too bad then I am going to put you to sleep.” Charles said firmly. Erik gave a microscopic nod, closing his eyes just moments before Hank entered.
They didn’t waste time with pleasantries when Hank rolled in the machine. He began pressing buttons while Charles grabbed a face mask, removing the nose cannula and fixing the face mask to the tool. He put one hand on his shoulder as he fitted the mask over Erik’s face.
This is about three minutes before we do the intubation Charles said. We are giving you extra oxygen
Erik cracked his eyes barely to watch Charles. He felt no fear from Erik's mind, just quiet submission. Erik showed him entire trust. Charles gave him a smile, holding the mask tight in hopes of keeping the oxygen entirely in his blood. They had no way to monitor his saturation, so Charles just kept it on for a little over three minutes, hoping that would be enough.
“Are you sure he wants to be awake for this?” Hank asked. Charles gave a gentle nod.
“We’re keeping him awake,” he said, simultaneously in Hank's mind continuing. I am going to put him out of it gets out of hand.
“Alright…” Hank said. He took something that looked like an ice pick, nudging it in Erik's mouth. Charles grabbed Erik's hand and Erik squeezed it with all his strength. It didn’t look gentle as he manipulated it around his tongue and vocal chords.
“Okay I am ready, can you hand me the tube?” Hank asked. Charles nodded, grabbing the clear plastic. “On three.”
He began to count down as Charles sent calming imagery into Erik's mind. Views of pine trees and the mountains that Erik would never admit to loving so much. He felt anticipation rising in Erik, and he did his best to soothe it. You’re okay, you’ve had worse.
As Hank began to navigate the tube into his throat Erik thrashed away, his body convulsing against his will. Hank planted a hand on his shoulder, but it didn’t help. Erik ripped his IV out on accident, and blood began seeping into the bedsheets. His hands scrambled at Hank and scratched at him like he could push him off.
“Charles.” Hank bit out.
Erik calm your mind, you need to calm your mind. Charles spoke into his mind with urgency, pushing peace toward Erik. It didn’t help, and Erik doubled down, trying to wriggle away. His lungs made horrific crackling noises, and Charles watched as Hank tried to push him into the bed, losing his grip on the tub and pick-like thing still in his throat.
The metal in the room shook violently and without much reason, the dresser toppled down and the sound made both of them jump. The machine began to shake and Charles felt Erik’s desperation clinging to every bit of metal in the room. The metal on his chair was all that was left unaffected, but everything else began to almost grow hot.
“He’s going to hurt himself.” He bit out. Horrifying whimpering screams came from Erik's throat and he arched back again, slamming his head into the bed as Hank scrambled to contain him.
I am so sorry. Charles whispered. He reached into Erik's mind, finding what held his awareness and entirely snuffed it out. He held him there, while Hank worked quickly. Charles kept Erik aware through his eyes, letting him watch what was happening to him. Hank had to repeat the oxygen process and redo the positioning and tubbing, but he finally got it in and they quickly connected it to the machine.
There you are darling, I am so so sorry Charles whispered in Erik's mind, easing him into gentle awareness of his own body again. I am so sorry.
Erik lifted a trembling hand to his throat, trying to swallow. Hank stood up, shaking himself off and watching him as his breathing began to even out. His eyes moved quickly around the room, and his hands twitched towards the tube, but he let it be.
“You can’t talk.” Hank huffed out, catching his breath. “Don’t try it will hurt.”
He turned around, ready to exit, but instead, he paused for a moment, and placed a hand on Erik's arm, looking at him with eyes swimming with regret. “I am sorry about that Erik. Just uh- well I don’t want you to die.”
Even in his horribly ill body, Erik managed a scathing glance at Hank's hand. Hank awkwardly patted him, before slinking out.
“Thank you, Hank.” Charles whispered. Hank nodded, escaping the tense room.
I am so sorry darling Charles thought at him. You will feel better now I promise you. You’re going to get so much better soon.
Hurts. Was all Erik thought. Charles bit back a sob. Thank you. Letting me see.
“Oh, my love," Charles said out loud, seeing a tear fall from Erik's eye. “Of course. I am so sorry I did that, I just want you to breathe.”
I know. Erik said.
“I love you,” Charles said, his voice somewhere between a whisper and a cry. He sniffled, trying to pull himself together.
I know that too. I Love you. Erik said. The dark hugh of purple began to reside from Erik's skin and it made Charles cry again.
“Get some sleep,” Charles said, raising Erik's hand and kissing it. In a moment he would get the IV back in, but he wanted Erik to rest first. Erik gave a microscopic nod.
---
Erik got better over the night. Not good, not even close, but Charles could look at him without feeling ill. Charles hadn’t slept the whole night, going between Erik's bed side and the lab in hopes of finding out anything about the medication he had just injected into Erik. It looked promising in how it interacted with the spores, but it was a potent medication, and Charles had no idea how it would interact with Erik.
Hank had come in at 9 AM and found him dead to the world on the desk. He hadn’t fallen asleep, but he physically felt like he couldn’t move.
“Go to bed, Charles.” Erik said. Charles looked up, scrubbing a hand over his face.
“I can’t-”
“I will do this, go to bed. You haven’t slept.” Hank said. “Not for far too long.”
“I guess…” He said quietly. “I will be able to keep my eye on him at least.”
“Don’t keep an eye, go to sleep,” Hank said. Seeing that Charles didn’t believe him, he put a hand on his shoulder, leaning against the counter. “You will never be able to help him if you’re run into the ground. You’re exhausted, and you’ve been the only one who can help him.”
“You make a decent point I suppose.” Charles surrendered. Hank nodded him away, and Charles retreated.
Erik did look better. He hadn’t been awake since he’d originally fallen asleep, but as Charles wheeled in and changed into comfortable clothes he cracked his eyes open, and Charles heard gentle thoughts floating across his mind.
“Hello there,” Charles said, forcing a chipper tone into his voice.
Don’t do that. Erik said. Charles shook his head, rolling his eyes at how well the man knew him.
“I am going to get some sleep I think,” Charles said. “I’ll go to the guest room so I don’t disturb you.”
Erik hummed in discontentment and reached an arm out. Wheeling over, Charles took his hand, kissing it. Stay.
“Very demanding, I see.” Charles chuckled. Erik scowled. “Would you prefer that?”
Erik just gave him a look.
“Alright alright,” he whispered. He transferred easily into the bed, manipulating his body around Erik until he could rest against the headboard and pull Erik against him, wrapping his arms around him, careful to not disturb him.
A happy contentment from Erik reached Charles’s mind, and Charles pressed himself into Erik's head. He evaluated the burning in his lungs, the sting of his throat, and the ache of fever. It was definitely improving, though by no measure was it good. Charles bent down and kissed his temple. Erik gave a half smile, pressing into him.
“Feeling better?” Charles asked. Not saying what he actually meant as ‘feeling back from the brink of death?’. Erik nodded a little.
Much. He said. My mind feels clear again.
“Oh, I am so happy.” He said with genuine joy. Erik held onto Charles’s arm that was wrapped around him, squeezing it. “I am so sorry about earlier.”
You did what you needed to, I understand. Erik said. It was a hard choice.
“I know, but I still feel awful,” Charles said as he shuffled down until he was properly lying against the bed, Erik on his chest. “It’s worth it if you feel better.”
I do. Erik assured. Charles hummed, burying his face in Erik's hair. It was still tacky with sweat, but it smelled like him.
They both fell quiet, Erik against Charles’s heart, listening to the quiet beating. Charles racked his fingers through Erik's short hair and hummed until Erik drifted off It was only then that he let himself begin to relax as well, sending happy images into Erik's mind to shape his dreams for the better.
He was going to be okay. He was himself again. His oxygen was back up and the meds were working. The meds were working.
Charles’s meds were working and he’d kept Erik alive.
A few stray tears left his eyes as he closed them and let sleep take him also, overwhelmed with gratitude that he’d managed to pull Erik back from the brink.
The meds were working and Erik would be okay. And literally, nothing else in the entire world mattered.