Charles picked at the salad on his plate, rubbing his temple with his free hand. The thoughts of everyone around the table were intruding on his mind, causing his headache to throb painfully behind his eyes. Alex laughed loudly, and Charles couldn’t contain his wince at the noise, pressing into his temple to try and relieve the tension. A gentle hand on his back caused Charles to startle back to the present.
“Is everything alright, love?” Eric asked, keeping his voice at a whisper to avoid drawing attention to them. Charles gave him a wan smile.
“It’s just a headache,” Charles replied, trying to play off how their voices felt like being stabbed in the forehead and laughter made his head feel like it might explode.
“Hmm,” Eric replied quietly, looking at him thoughtfully, “If you say so.” Charles put a forkful of salad in his mouth, trying to make it look like nothing was wrong. He barely tasted the tomato and lettuce, and his stomach threatened to rebel against the choice. He forced himself to take a second mouthful, and Charles couldn’t keep it down.
“I’m gonna-” Charles moved to get up, in his haste forgetting that he could no longer do that the same way. His legs gave out beneath him, sending Charles sprawling on the polished wood floors. The room exploded into noise as everyone rushed to his aid, but the original reason he had tried to leave made itself known as his stomach emptied its contents onto the ground and Eric’s shoes. “Fuck,” Charles murmured, letting himself flop onto the clean floor beside the mess, “Fuck, Eric, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s nothing,” Eric replied, crouching down beside him, “What’s going on? Is it really just a headache?”
“Oh my god, are you okay, Charles?” Raven was at his other side, gently trying to move him into a sitting position. Charles batted away her hands, afraid that further movement would only cause him to retch again. Instead, she settled for rubbing gentle circles on his back, looking to Eric with worry all over her face. Charles’ emotions felt raw: intense and hard to cope with. Before he could stop himself, he felt tears running down his face and his chest heaved with a sob. He could hear the anxious thoughts of the other mutants in the room, trying to decide how best to help, and the overstimulation only increased his sobbing. Charles pressed his hands over his ears as best he could. He knew the action wouldn’t help, but it was the only thing that he could do in the situation.
“It’s so fucking loud,” Charles murmured, “Please, make it stop Eric. Make it stop.”
“I don’t… understand,” Eric said softly, stroking back the hair from Charles’ forehead, “What’s too loud?” Charles waved a hand in the vague direction of everyone else, almost smacking Eric in the face in the process. “Cerebro,” Charles muttered, “After using it so much to find… people. Loud. In my head. Can’t tune it out. Too many thoughts that aren’t mine.”
“Okay,” Eric sounded distressed, and Charles could feel the confusion and racing thoughts going through his mind. Charles let out a small whimper, unable to contain his own distress.
“Your helmet,” someone said. Charles couldn’t place the voice, but he knew it wasn’t Eric speaking. He didn’t know if they were speaking to him or not. “It might block the world out for him if it blocks him out for you.”
“Good thinking,” that was Eric. Eric touched his shoulder gently and Charles leaned into the gentle point of contact, seeking any sort of comfort amid the chaos of his mind. “Charles, love, I’m going to take you to our room, alright? Just breathe, I’ve got you. I’m going to help you.”
“Please, please, please,” Charles murmured, “Make it stop. Please.” Then Eric was picking him up in his strong arms, Charles was seated gently in his wheelchair, and they were moving. After what seemed like hours, they entered a dimly lit room. Even in his state, Charles could tell it was their shared bedroom.
“Here you go,” Eric whispered, kneeling in front of him, “I’ve got an idea, can I try it?” Charles grasped the front of Eric’s shirt, needing contact to try and ground himself.
“Please, please,” Charles replied through the tears that hadn’t stopped.
“Okay,” Eric murmured. Charles felt him placing something cold and metal over his head, and after a moment, everything went silent save for his own thoughts. The relief of the silence was so great that Charles couldn’t help but sob.
“Thank you,” Charles managed to get out between his sobs, “Thank you, thank you.”
“Anything,” Eric’s whisper was loud in the silence, “Why don’t we go to bed? We can talk more about it in the morning, when you’re feeling better.” Charles nodded, but clutched at the helmet on his head.
“Can I keep this?” Charles asked. He knew deep down that Eric wouldn’t take it from him, but anxiety overrode his logic and made him fear that it would be taken away and he would have to deal with the noise of his world again.
“Of course,” Eric replied, “Can I help you to bed?” Charles nodded and reached out to Eric, feeling a little childish. Eric helped him from the wheelchair to their bed, then gently unbuttoned and removed Charles’ shirt. His belt, shoes and socks followed. “Do you want sleep pants?” Eric asked. Charles shrugged. All he really wanted was to cuddle up to Eric and for it to stay silent in his head.
“Want you,” Charles replied. Eric smiled at that answer, and brought Charles’ hand to his lips to kiss it gently.
“How could I deny you anything?” Eric said fondly. Charles watched as Eric quickly changed into pajamas before climbing into their bed and opening his arms for Charles to cuddle up to him. Charles did so quickly, pressing his face into Eric’s chest to feel his slow breaths. Eric wrapped his arms around him in a gentle embrace. “Rest, my love,” Eric said quietly, “I’ve got you.”
“I know,” Charles murmured.
THE END