Erik had anticipated what he would find when he went to visit Charles. There was no denying that bullet had struck Charles' spine, and Erik had seen enough such injuries in his life to know what it would mean. Still, the stark reality of Charles in that silver wheelchair was almost more than Erik could bear. Charles, his beautiful Charles, with those fantastic long legs that had once wrapped around him so sinuously, sat unmoving in the wheelchair, his hands folded across his lap as he watched Erik.
The words "I'm sorry" rested on the tip of Erik's tongue, but he couldn't seem to give them voice. They felt hollow, a feeble attempt at righting such an egregious wrong. I shouldn't have come... he couldn't help but think.
The startling blue of Charles' eyes caught his attention, and he could see the fondness and affection the other man held for him. Astonishment threatened to overwhelm him. After all that had happened, why wasn't Charles looking at him with hatred and anger? Bitterness at the very least. I'm the reason you're in that chair. he thought, rage directed at himself boiling up inside him.
"You never meant for it to happen, Erik," Charles said quietly, and for once, Erik couldn't find it in him to be upset at the telepath reading his mind. Sometimes it was far easier to think what he wanted to say. "I forgive you."
Erik gave a vehement shake of his head, scowling. "I don't deserve your forgiveness, Charles," he said. "I've replayed it in my head a thousand times since that day. I keep seeing your face, hearing your cry of pain." He felt a tear slip down his cheek, the anguish he felt almost palpable on his face. "I'm so sorry, Charles."
He squeezed his eyes shut against a flood of tears, taking a deep breath to calm himself. He could hear the soft whisper of the wheels of Charles' chair as they rolled across the carpet of Charles' study, and then a warm palm slid against his, fingers curling his hand.
"I know," Charles whispered, gripping Erik's hand tightly in his own. "I could never hate you, Erik, not even for this. You shall always have my love."
Erik shook his head again, silently protesting. He no longer deserved Charles' love. I will find a way to make this right, he thought, knowing that Charles could hear him. Even if it takes my whole life, I'll never stop looking for a way to make you walk again.
"Erik-" Charles began, his fingers tightening around Erik's hand, but the other man easily broke his grip, pulling away. "Erik, please." He frowned deeply as Erik strode past him, and the telepath let out a frustrated sigh as he tried to turn his wheelchair around to catch his friend before he left. "Erik!"
His heart sank as he heard the door click, and he sent out one last desperate thought, Don't go...
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The words "I'm sorry" rested on the tip of Erik's tongue, but he couldn't seem to give them voice. They felt hollow, a feeble attempt at righting such an egregious wrong. I shouldn't have come... he couldn't help but think.
The startling blue of Charles' eyes caught his attention, and he could see the fondness and affection the other man held for him. Astonishment threatened to overwhelm him. After all that had happened, why wasn't Charles looking at him with hatred and anger? Bitterness at the very least. I'm the reason you're in that chair. he thought, rage directed at himself boiling up inside him.
"You never meant for it to happen, Erik," Charles said quietly, and for once, Erik couldn't find it in him to be upset at the telepath reading his mind. Sometimes it was far easier to think what he wanted to say. "I forgive you."
Erik gave a vehement shake of his head, scowling. "I don't deserve your forgiveness, Charles," he said. "I've replayed it in my head a thousand times since that day. I keep seeing your face, hearing your cry of pain." He felt a tear slip down his cheek, the anguish he felt almost palpable on his face. "I'm so sorry, Charles."
He squeezed his eyes shut against a flood of tears, taking a deep breath to calm himself. He could hear the soft whisper of the wheels of Charles' chair as they rolled across the carpet of Charles' study, and then a warm palm slid against his, fingers curling his hand.
"I know," Charles whispered, gripping Erik's hand tightly in his own. "I could never hate you, Erik, not even for this. You shall always have my love."
Erik shook his head again, silently protesting. He no longer deserved Charles' love. I will find a way to make this right, he thought, knowing that Charles could hear him. Even if it takes my whole life, I'll never stop looking for a way to make you walk again.
"Erik-" Charles began, his fingers tightening around Erik's hand, but the other man easily broke his grip, pulling away. "Erik, please." He frowned deeply as Erik strode past him, and the telepath let out a frustrated sigh as he tried to turn his wheelchair around to catch his friend before he left. "Erik!"
His heart sank as he heard the door click, and he sent out one last desperate thought, Don't go...