The Road to Recovery

Chapter II

The hand that touched his shoulder and carefully shook him awake first startled Erik almost
out of his wits, and he briefly expected to wake up at the plastic prison and find himself
staring into Laurio's pig's eyes. However, it was the image of Wolverine that cleared before
his eyes.

Not that this immediately calmed him. This bed, this room, the smell of everything were
completely unfamiliar to him, and Charles was nowhere in sight. His head began to spin and
his hands spasmodically twisted the blanket against his chest. A wave of magnetic energy
passed through the room and all things metal responded to it with an almost imperceptible
tremble. This included Logan's adamantium skeleton.

"Mags! Mags, calm down! It's alright!" he called out in fright and pulled his hand back on
reflex.

Erik forced to keep his head upright despite the sensation of vertigo. "W-where am I...?"

"You're in my room. We met last night and I invited you to stay here. Do you remember?"

The memories came back almost all at once, and Erik exhaled in relief. He sunk back against
the mattress and prayed that the upcoming panic attack would not come out in blossom. "Of
course I remember... There's nothing wrong with my memory," he said shakily. "I just...
What's the time?"

"11:45. I let you sleep," Logan informed him. "Are you alright?"

After a few deep breaths, Erik nodded. Almost as disturbing as the panic attacks, was the fact
that he seemed to lose control of his powers whenever he felt one coming. Erik had gone
through a lot in his life, and no matter how strong or volatile his emotions had been, there had
never been a slip in his control over his mutant ability. So far the effects had been minor, but
this could indicate a gradual loss of control. In a not too distant future...

"Where's my robe...?"

"Here." Wolverine picked the garment up from the floor and held it out to Erik. "And your
slippers are beside the bed, too," he added.

Logan had the decency to turn away while Erik got out of bed to get dressed, and he was
thankful for it. While he did not mind Charles seeing his scrawny, scarred, slack-skinned
body, Wolverine was a wholly different matter. Seeing all of Erik's rather miserable physique
would probably only boost his confidence about his own.

Erik felt the need to relieve himself, but Logan had no bathroom adjacent to his quarters as
Charles and he had. Probably the nearest one was out in the hall. He could already hear the
excited voices of children and teenagers passing outside, and Erik dreaded having to face not
only one but many of Xavier students on his way out of here. Especially as he was just
wearing a robe and slippers. Besides, seeing him walk out of Wolverine's room in this
condition might spawn some unwanted gossip.

"Are you hungry?" Logan suddenly asked. "I can get something for you, if you want, or we
could go to the kitchen..."

"No, thank you. I must go back to Charles," Erik said quickly. "T-thank you for letting me
sleep here."

He left the room before Wolverine got a chance to say anything more. Fortunately no horde of
over-enthusiastic mutant children met him in the hallway outside, and Erik hurriedly made
way toward Charles and his joint quarters. The room that had felt so suffocating last night had
now become a place of refuge. Not to mention that his bladder was nearly killing him.

Charles lay sprawled in the bed, warmly tucked under the covers. He was reading - one of his
journals on psychology, judging from the cover - but he looked up when Erik entered. A
breakfast tray with an empty plate and a half-full glass of mineral water stood on his bedside
table.

"Well, hello there. Look who decided to check in," the telepath said. A frown immediately
appeared on Erik's face. He was not sure whether it were the words themselves or the slightly
sarcastic tone in his friend's voice that made him rise his defences.

"No need to play surprised," he muttered. "I'm sure you didn't have to look for me. Not for
long, anyway."

"Very true, Erik. I understand that you had a nightmare and perhaps felt restless, but you
know you're supposed to wake me up if you feel..." Charles was interrupted by a fit of
coughing, and by the time it died out, he spat out a large clod of yellowish phlegm into a
tissue. Erik noticed that a thin layer of sweat covered his face now as well. Surely his friend
was still feverish.

"Charles, you're ill," Erik pointed out as he shed his robe and started looking for a set of day-
time clothes. "I went out because I did not want to disturb you, and well... because you were
making too much noise. Either way, I don't think I have to report what I do every second of
my life, do I?"

Charles closed his eyes and rested his bald head against his three large pillows. He was very
ill indeed, and the last thing he wanted to use his remaining energy for was an argument.
Because that was what this was going to evolve into. Erik's shields were up for some reason,
and if Charles didn't watch his tongue, his friend could very well throw a temper tantrum.

"I'm glad you got to sleep, Erik. However, would you mind telling me why Logan invited you
to stay with him?"

"Why, Charles? Are you jealous?" Erik shot back venomously after pulling a brown
turtleneck sweater over his head.

"Erik, that was crude," the telepath said gravely. "You know I am merely concerned. Logan
does not have the knowledge or resources to handle one of your panic attacks. In fact, Erik,
you could have accidentally even hurt him."

"I didn't have a panic attack!" Erik yelled at his friend, who would have recoiled if he'd been
able to. "And I didn't fuck the Wolverine either, if that's what you want to know. No, I
forgot... you probably already knew that, didn't you?" He tapped his left temple with a
fingertip.

Xavier looked down, his now rapid heartbeat making it even more difficult to breathe. Even
though Erik had failed to remain calm, he must not make the mistake to start yelling. His body
simply could not cope with that right now.

"I'm sorry, my dear; I did not mean to sound as though I wish to dictate where you may and
may not go, but we have to be able to communicate with each other like grown ups. Don't
you agree?"

If anything, Charles was used to Erik's sudden mood swings by now. And as he'd predicted,
the other mutant's anger did not last long. Instead Erik started to look guilty and came to sit
on the edge of the bed.

"I'm sorry, Charles. I agree that some of the things I said were..." He sighed. "...completely
uncalled for. I'm frustrated, I suppose."

"I know, Erik." Charles managed a weak smile and took Erik's hand in his own. It felt
wonderfully cool against his feverish skin. "You're forgiven."

"How are you feeling?" Erik asked, rubbing the back of the telepath's hand with his thumb. If
Charles' appearance had made him suspect a high fever, touching his friend confirmed it. Erik
guessed that Xavier's body temperature was at least 3o C above normal. Two weeks had
passed, and it seemed Charles' condition was not improving the least. Erik felt the first sting
of actual worry for the other's health. The idea of Charles being seriously ill had never
occurred to him until now. Of course not, considering how busy he'd been feeling sorry for
himself. Erik suddenly whole-heartedly regretted his earlier comment about Charles making
too much noise at night. He did not perceive the telepath's answer to his first question and
therefore asked a new one.

"Is the antibiotic having any effect?"

"I hope it will in due time," Xavier replied. He coughed again, and Erik was able to tell that it
strain hurt his chest.

"What kind was it again?"

"Amoxcillin. It's a...-"

"Broad-spectrum antibiotic, I know," Erik finished the sentence for him. "Have you consulted
Jean? What does she think?"

"Jean was here to check on me earlier. She brought me breakfast." He nodded at the tray to
his right.

"And...?"

"Her diagnosis was the same as my own. An obvious case of bacterial pneumonia, which
should pass without complications. You look worried, Erik. You shouldn't be. I'll be alright."

Erik placed his hand on Charles' forehead. "Your fever is high. Shouldn't we try to get your
temperature down somehow?"

"It was only 39,7. No danger yet. I'm just a little tired, that's all. Some rest will do me good."

"If there is anything that I can do..."

"Now, now, Erik," Xavier chuckled. "I'm supposed to be your therapist, remember? You
have enough concerns of your own. You needn't carry mine as well." He gently pulled the
other toward himself, urging Erik to rest against his chest. Erik was hesitant at first, probably
afraid of burdening his already aching lungs, but Charles sent him a mental note that it was
alright. Feverish or no, Charles enjoyed touching his old friend's hair. Erik had showered last
night before they went to bed, and his hair still smelled of the lavender shampoo he'd used.

The plea reached his mind only seconds later, and Charles was initially not aware of the fact
that Erik had not spoken the words out loud. For a telepath it was sometimes hard to tell the
difference.

//Promise that you won't leave me...//

Xavier was not sure whether Erik had projected consciously or unconsciously, but he decided
to answer anyway. God knew his friend needed some reassurance.

"I won't leave you, Erik. I promise." He finished by planting a kiss on the top of the grey
head before him, wondering if Erik was able to feel the heat of his lips as well.

TBC...