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5363FIC: Old Friend, 1/13, Charles/Erik, NC-17, post X2

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  • Henrika
    Oct 12, 2003
    • 0 Attachment
      Story Title: Old Friend

      Rating: One NC-17 rated part, other parts mainly R rated.

      Pairing: Charles/Erik

      Fandom: X-men movieverse, post X2

      Summary: Charles gets beaten and abused, and is saved by Erik.

      Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, Marvel and 20th Century
      Fox
      do. I'm making no money from this. Is that enough?

      Archive: My website
      http://www.geocities.com/henrika_amanda/Index.html and list
      archives. Others, please ask.

      Feedback: Please? It will be much appreciated and I will answer all
      feedback. No flames, please.

      A/N and warnings: This story deals with mature concepts like abuse,
      violence and torture; nothing terribly graphic, but if you're
      sensitive, I would advise you to stay away. And yes, sex as well,
      but I needn't warn you about that, do I?


      Chapter 1

      //HELP ME//

      Erik knew it was Charles as soon as he heard the voice inside his
      head. He had heard the same voice many times before, but never had
      it sounded like it did now.

      Erik sat in his car, on his way home to the mansion he rented on the
      Chesapeake coast, and almost forgot to step on the gas when he heard
      Charles – it could be no one but him. The driver behind him
      hooted
      angrily before he regained control over his car, and Erik silently
      cursed him.

      "Be careful, I can throw your car into the woods…" he
      muttered to
      himself, but intended to keep a low profile whenever he appeared in
      public. Besides he had more important things on his mind.

      Charles. He had sounded terrible. Or rather like something terrible
      was happening to him. He had sounded like he was being murdered.
      Suddenly Erik heard it again.

      //Help me… Please help me…// a voice whispered in his head,
      that had
      to belong to his old friend. He sounded weaker now, and Erik started
      to believe he wouldn't hear anything more from Charles.

      "Charles…" he whispered. "Is that you?"

      It was ridiculous, of course. Erik didn't know if the cry for
      help
      was meant for him solely, or anyone close. All mutants? Charles'
      telepathic abilities were so vast.

      The cry had sounded stronger the first time and weaker the second,
      but that probably depended on the fact that Charles, who sent it,
      was weakening. What if Charles was dying?

      The whole situation made Erik extremely worried and troubled,
      because there was nothing he could do. Despite all that had happened
      between them, Erik still cared about his friend and to know he was
      in pain was awful.

      "Charles…" Erik murmured. "Tell me where you are, so I
      can help you…"

      No more voices reached his head, but when he suddenly spotted a
      narrow gravel road turn into the woods from the highway, it was like
      something told him to turn in there. Not a voice in his head, but
      something, that could have been described as a "gut feeling".

      Since Erik was driving pretty fast, and since it took his brain some
      time to make the decision, he had to stop in the middle of the road
      and back. He had to take some angry hooting from his fellow road
      users now too, but he didn't care. All he could think of was that
      this decision might mean life or death to Charles.

      The gravel road, surrounded by forest on both sides, looked dark
      although it was day. Erik parked his car on the roadside and stepped
      out of it. When he looked toward the road he thought he saw a large
      dark object towering some yards away.

      He approached it and soon discovered that it was a car. A dark blue,
      dashing Honda, judging from the way it looked. Probably new as well.

      Erik kept walking toward it, because a new, dashing car standing
      alone at the end of a dark gravel road didn't seem to make any
      sense. No house was nearby, and when Erik got close enough he saw
      the car was empty.

      This was not what he had expected to find, but it was odd anyway.

      "Charles?" he asked into the air, and felt silly afterwards.
      This
      car surely had no connection to Charles' cry for help, and
      standing
      there and staring at it would certainly not help.

      Erik brushed his grey hair back and considered whether he should go
      back to his car and drive away or take a closer look. To ignore it
      would be the most logical choice, since the mystery of this car
      probably had nothing to do with him. But on the other hand… it
      wouldn't give him any peace before he examined it. That settled
      this
      matter.

      Erik went to the passenger door – which was locked, of course
      – and
      unlocked it with the help of magnetism. The least he could do was to
      see who this car belonged to, provided that the registration papers
      were in the glove compartment.

      They were. And when Erik took them out and studied them, he got
      himself a shock that made his heart take one extra beat.

      The car was registered on Charles Xavier. This was Charles' car.

      Erik bounced up from the passenger seat and dropped the papers like
      they'd been snakes. One million questions rushed through his head
      simultaneously. What was Charles' car doing out here? Had this
      something, and if so, what, to do with the telepathic cry for help
      before?

      The car was empty, and no one was here. The ignition key was not in
      the ignition lock, so someone had removed it after driving the car
      here. And who had done that? Not Charles anyway; Erik was sure of
      that. He really started to feel anxious.

      Where was Charles? And what had happened to him?

      Suddenly Erik recalled that there was one place yet to check. The
      trunk.

      The thought made his blood freeze, but it was possible, no matter
      how awful it was.

      Stiff as a board, Erik walked to the trunk and looked down at it.
      No, please don't let it be so… he prayed. Please…

      It was locked too, of course, but that was no problem for Erik. With
      a click the lock withdrew, and the moment of truth was near. He
      opened the truck painfully slowly and tried to mentally prepare
      himself for what he might see.

      When he finally looked down into the trunk he saw what he had
      feared. Charles lay there, naked and bloodied, full of bleeding
      wounds and swellings, motionless, with his abused body curled in a
      fetal position.

      Erik believed he would faint. He had expected the worst, but the
      shock was still great. His first thought was that his old friend was
      definitely dead. He almost looked like a heap of abused and bloody
      flesh. But Charles was alive.

      When Erik reached down his trembling hand to check his pulse,
      Charles slowly turned his head and opened his confused eyes.

      Erik gasped and his hand froze in the air.

      "Help me, Erik… please, help me…" the severely injured
      mutant
      whispered, while looking into his old friend's eyes.

      Erik had not expected Charles to be alive, or conscious, and he
      definitely didn't expect Charles to recognize him.

      "Oh Charles…" Erik whispered in shock and carefully touched
      the
      telepath's bloody cheek. But he wasn't late to react. This
      could be
      a matter of life or death.

      He didn't know if moving Charles would be bad, but now it had to
      be
      done. Nothing could be worse than leaving him in the trunk. Erik
      reached his arms down under Charles' naked and bloodied body and
      lifted him into his arms. Charles gave a weak sound that expressed
      pain when he was lifted, but then lost consciousness and his head
      fell slackly against Erik's shoulder.

      Erik started running toward his car. Normally he wouldn't have
      been
      able to run with Charles in his arms – the telepath was his size
      –
      but now all the adrenaline had increased his muscle strength and he
      barely felt Charles' weight. He opened the back door to his Mazda
      with magnetism and gently lowered Charles' body onto the
      backseat.
      The injured mutant was shaking, and Erik realized he might need
      something to keep Charles warm with.

      Feverishly he ran back to his own trunk to see if there was a
      blanket or something to wrap around Charles' naked body. He found
      a
      red blanket made of fleece cloth, and it had to do although it was
      dirty.

      Erik leaned in again and wrapped the blanket around his friend's
      body. He briefly rested his hand on Charles' bloody forehead, and
      whispered, "Hold on, Charles. I'll take care of you. Just
      hold on…"

      Then he jumped into his car and tore off.

      Where would he take Charles? Not to any public hospital anyway; that
      much was clear. Most hospitals no longer accepted mutants, and both
      Charles and he were too well known to pass as normal human beings.
      Besides, Erik didn't trust hospitals. They could very well leave
      Charles to die only because he was a mutant.

      He would have to take Charles to his own home. Erik was not a
      trained physician, but he knew a whole lot, and he was sure he'd
      be
      able to take better care of Charles than some bungler at a public
      hospital. But he was still an hour's drive from his house, and
      Charles' condition was all but good.

      Erik could see him in his rear-view mirror. Charles lay motionless,
      wrapped in a blanket. He wasn't dead already, was he? At least
      Erik
      couldn't hear him breathing. No, he mustn't die. Erik
      wouldn't allow
      it.

      After some time Erik realized he was driving much too fast. It would
      only aggravate this situation if he was stopped by the police; or
      worse – had an accident and drove into a tree.

      Erik slowed down and nervously looked at his watch. About half an
      hour left. He could hear Charles coughing in the back seat. Just
      hope he didn't have a punctured lung and was drowning in his own
      blood!

      I'll kill those who did this to you, Charles! Erik swore in his
      mind. I will kill them!

      *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

      When he finally reached his current home; a grand 19th century
      residence, whose basement level had been remade into a research
      compound, Erik was trembling so much he could barely stand up. He
      wobbled out of his car and opened the back door to see how Charles
      was.

      The telepath was still alive, but he was unconscious. Wrapped inside
      the blanket, Erik carefully tried to lift him into his arms again,
      without aggravating his injuries.

      Charles felt heavier now, but Erik had no problems carrying him. He
      wondered if anybody was home. Mystique was home more often now, when
      she no longer had to appear in public as the late senator Kelly. St.
      John used to be home on weekdays as well – today was Tuesday
      – and
      Sabretooth… Well, that was actually someone Erik didn't want
      to have
      around now.

      Mystique met him at the steps. Her blue face looked shocked and
      surprised when she saw the bloodied bundle in Erik's arms.

      "Erik… What happened?" she asked quietly, aware that Erik
      was in a
      state.

      "I don't know, I found him like this," Erik replied
      shortly because
      he didn't have time to give any fuller answer at that moment.
      "Is
      John at home?" he then asked.

      "Yes, we were just eating."

      "Keep him in the kitchen," Erik ordered. "I don't
      want him to see
      Charles like this. Alright?"

      "Yes, okay," Mystique said and held the door open to let Erik
      in.
      She ran back into the kitchen and Erik could hear her say something,
      and then the boy's voice, but he didn't have time to hear
      what they
      said.

      Erik couldn't think of any other place to bring Charles than his
      own
      room. They had no sick-bay like Charles had on his institute, only
      laboratories.

      On the way to his chamber Erik met someone he had hoped to avoid
      –
      Sabretooth. He had reunited with Erik and the Brotherhood two months
      ago, and Erik had hesitantly let him back in. The big mutant's
      temper and carnage had always been uncontrollable, like himself.

      Erik said nothing when they met in the hallway – he hoped that
      the
      situation would explain itself.

      A thick wrinkle formed between Sabretooth's eyebrows when he saw
      Xavier's abused body wrapped in the blanket. The smell of blood
      was
      strong, and the man was very weak. Sabretooth, alias Victor Creed,
      hated Xavier and his X-men with all his heart, and strongly felt
      like finishing what someone else had already started. How dare
      Magneto take that traitor here?!

      They exchanged a look when they passed each other, and Sabretooth
      managed to control his urge to lunge at them and slit Xavier's
      throat. He simply growled and his menacing face grew even sterner.

      Later, he thought to himself.

      *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

      Erik knew that Charles would stain his sheets with blood, but he
      didn't care about that. Carefully he lowered his old friend onto
      the
      large bed, and couldn't help being appalled when he looked at
      him.

      Charles had really been beaten. Now Erik only needed to see how
      serious his injuries were. He left Charles for a moment and ran into
      the adjacent bathroom to get some disinfectant to clean his wounds
      with. When he returned with the bottle in his hand he suddenly heard
      a knock on his door.

      "Who is it?" Erik called nervously. In case it was Pyro, Erik
      wouldn't let the boy in, because he didn't want him to see
      the
      professor in a state like this. But it was Mystique.

      "Can I come in?" she asked.

      "Yes, come in Raven," Erik sighed.

      "Oh God…" she said from the doorway. "Is it that bad?
      Can I do
      anything?"

      Erik pondered. "Yes, you could bring me some morphine from the
      lab.
      In case he wakes up now, he will be in a lot of pain."

      "I will," said Mystique, and Erik heard her steps withdraw.
      At least
      she remembered to close the door.

      Again Erik gave Charles his undivided attention. Examining him
      wouldn't be fun, but necessary. It had to happen with extreme
      caution, because Erik didn't know the extent of his injuries. If
      Charles had broken ribs Erik had to make sure they didn't
      puncture
      any internal organs. To be honest, the telepath's injuries looked
      severe.

      Charles had a large open wound in his left temple, which still bled,
      probably caused by a blunt object or a strong fist. Perhaps a shoe.
      Had someone kicked Charles in the head? Dear God.

      His right eye was completely swollen shut, and would remain like
      that for some time, and his lips were cracked and swollen too. Erik
      wasn't sure if he had a skull- or bone fracture, but he could
      only
      hope for the opposite. A concussion could almost be guaranteed.

      Charles' body looked even worse. He was completely covered with
      large bruises and abrasions, probably caused by fists or blunt
      objects. He might have gotten the abrasions from being dragged on
      the ground. Erik wasn't sure.

      After some careful feeling, Erik could state that Charles had at
      least one broken rib, although he found nothing that indicated
      internal bleedings, since Charles' belly and chest felt soft and
      pliant. Erik found a half, knocked-out tooth in his friend's
      mouth,
      but no blood from his lungs. Good. At least that was something
      fortunate.

      When Erik had wiped his old friend's body with a warm, damp cloth
      to
      get all the clotted blood away, he made a terrible discovery.
      Whoever had done this, was surely a sadist. A cruel such. Charles
      had burn marks, caused by a cigarette, all over his body. They were
      small, and certainly not life-threatening, but upset Erik more than
      anything. Someone had even pressed a burning cigarette against the
      old man's sex, Erik noticed, when he found a burn mark on
      Charles'
      penis.

      Erik clenched his teeth and almost considered counting to ten in
      order to calm down.

      Who – what animal – had had the guts to do something like
      this? he
      thought. To a wheelchair-bound old man? A mutant, but still? If Erik
      ever found the person responsible for this, he would kill him.

      "Charles?" he whispered to see if there was any reaction, but
      there
      was none. He remained unconscious and Erik was happy that he did.

      Slowly and gently Erik started washing the telepath's wounds with
      the disinfectant and a soft, clean cloth. Then he smeared some
      bactericidal ointment on his wounds and bandaged his chest and head.
      Besides that he couldn't do much. Time would show. Now he could
      only
      let Charles rest.

      A knock sounded again, and Mystique entered with the morphine
      syringe Erik had asked her to bring.

      "I'm sorry for the delay, but I had trouble finding the
      morphine,"
      she explained apologetically. "It wasn't where it used to
      be."

      "It is alright," Erik sighed. "He hasn't woken up,
      but I'll give it
      to him anyway in case he does."

      He took the syringe from Mystique and injected the drug into
      Charles' arm. It was a small dose, but at least it would reduce
      his
      pain if he woke up. Erik suddenly felt Mystique's slight hand on
      his
      shoulder. She had noticed how upset and nervous Erik was, but
      wasn't
      really sure how to comfort him.

      "What happened?" she asked softly.

      "I found him like this in the trunk of his own car," Erik
      replied
      and told her everything that had happened since he first heard the
      telepathic cry for help.

      "You don't know who did it?" Mystique asked.

      "No," Erik said shortly.

      "John keeps asking what's happened," Mystique remarked.
      "I don't
      know what to tell him. I told him to wait till he could speak with
      you. Or do you want me to tell him?"

      "Yes, tell him, but I don't want him to see him. Make sure he
      understands that."

      "I'll try," she promised.

      "Charles was tortured," Erik said.

      "What?"

      "With cigarettes. He's got burn marks everywhere. When I
      catch the
      cowardly bastard that did this…"

      Erik's voice broke and he was dangerously close to crying.

      "I swear I will kill him. Or them. Charles… you know, he…
      Charles
      was more than my friend, Raven. We used to share a bed…"

      "I know," Mystique replied mildly and stroked Erik's
      silver hair.
      Erik had told her about the time when Xavier had been his lover as
      well as friend, and she realized why Erik took this personally.
      Maybe he even had feelings left for the wheelchair-bound telepath?

      "Do you still love him? Is that why you're so upset?"

      "No… I don't love him…but I care very much about him.
      And the
      thought of somebody… Oh, Raven…" Erik sighed and leaned his
      head
      against Mystique's blue belly as he wrapped his arms around her
      waist. He wasn't crying – not yet – but that didn't
      lessen his
      grief.

      Mystique hugged him back and stroked his hair. She loved Erik very
      much, and although she wasn't mad about Xavier, she hoped he
      would
      recover for Erik's sake.

      "Please leave now, Raven, I want to be alone…" he finally
      murmured
      and pulled away.

      "Alright, I'll go and speak with young Pyro. Now take care of
      him,"
      she finished and left Erik's room.

      When she had left Erik looked at Charles' abused body again. He
      wasn't awake, but his heart rate and breathing were strong and
      even.
      Maybe the shot of morphine had made him even deeper unconscious?

      Reluctantly Erik remembered that he had one thing left to check. He
      didn't want to, but it had to be done. Had Charles been raped? If
      they had tortured him they might as well have assaulted him sexually
      too, just "for fun".

      Erik fervently hoped that it wasn't the case. He had been raped
      himself as a child, and knew the feeling, hoping that Charles
      didn't
      have to go through it in his old days.

      Please, please…

      But when Erik checked, he found no blood between Charles' legs,
      and
      the sphincter around his anus seemed unharmed, and nothing indicated
      that anyone had assaulted him like that. That was a huge relief. At
      least he hadn't been raped, although that didn't improve his
      condition in any way.

      Erik covered his friend with a light yet warm quilt and hoped it
      would keep him warm without burdening him too much. Then he looked
      at the watch. It was already nine o'clock in the evening. Time
      had
      passed quickly despite that he hadn't exactly enjoyed himself.

      Erik was exhausted, both physically and mentally, and he was sure
      that his body later would object to carrying Charles around. He
      decided to go to bed. Charles would most certainly feel both
      frightened and confused if he woke up in the night, and it might
      calm him – at least subconsciously – to be close to a warm
      and alive
      body instead of just fabric and pain.

      Erik went into the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth.
      Really he should take a shower too, but right now he didn't have
      the
      strength to do it. So he just undressed and crawled down into his
      large double bed. He always slept naked and was going to do it now
      too, hoping Charles wouldn't think he would rape him in case he
      woke
      up during the night and found a naked man next to him.

      Very well, Erik thought. I have nothing that Charles hasn't seen
      –
      or touched – before. He wished he could hold his old friend, but
      considering Charles' injuries it was too risky. He could just
      sleep
      next to Charles, without pressing up against him.

      "Good night…" Erik whispered and pressed a light kiss to
      Charles'
      forehead before he sank back against his own pillows and fell asleep
      almost at once.