Crushed

He didn’t notice the warning signs at first. When he was sitting alone in his home, he never missed them. The small twinges of pain in his lower back, the small whispers in his mind. When he had nothing else to do, and nothing else to think about, they occupied his whole mind.

Today was different. Today, Charles had a mission to distract him and keep him focused; save his sister. The worry for Raven sat in the back of his mind, a constant nagging that wouldn’t go away until he saw her.

There was also the chess game. After everything that had happened today, it might have seemed odd to sit down for a quiet game of chess. After all, his first move when he saw Erik had been to punch the other man in the face. A move, Charles realized in hindsight, that Erik had made no move to dodge or deflect. As if he felt that Charles was entitled to at least one.

But not more. Erik had made that perfectly clear with his little display of temper, sending their airplane off-course during his tirade about all of the friends they had lost. Putting Charles back in his place, almost literally as Charles had to cling to the chair to keep himself from falling across the plan.

They had both spoken truth today, a much-needed venting of emotion that had had no outlet for ten years.

And then?

Chess. As if nothing had ever happened between them, they sat in the corner and played a game of chess with a bottle of scotch to accompany them. Only this time, Erik refused to touch the pieces with his hands, making every move with his power.

A silent reprimand to Charles for what he had chosen to give up.

But Charles didn’t care if Erik was angry with him. Erik didn’t know the whole story--and he didn’t need to.

So Charles kept his focus on the game and found, for the first time in a very long time, that he was enjoying himself. In some ways, it was as if nothing had ever gone wrong between them. If he let himself, for a moment, Charles could pretend that Cuba, Vietnam, the visit from the mutant who claimed to be from the future...that none of it had happened.

But the nagging pain his his back grew, as it always did, and the whispers grew inevitably louder, until Charles couldn’t help but notice.

“Hank!” Charles snapped his gaze to his watch, then to the cockpit where his friend--the only friend who had stuck by him--sat. “It’s wearing off.”

Hank immediately left the cockpit, a frown written across his face. He checked his own watch as he fetched a case from the cupboard. “That’s two hours faster than last time. when we get home, I’ll take a look at the serum again.”

Even though he had designed the serum, Hank was at a loss to explain why Charles’ system was building up a tolerance to the effects. The telepath’s serum was different from the serum Hank used to control his own appearance. Hank was reversing a mutation that had been caused by a serum, not the mutation he was born with. Charles’ serum accomplished an entirely different task, healing his spine while curbing the mutation that was an integral part of his DNA. Some people might thing that the power to read minds was more important than the ability to walk, but Charles had been happy enough with the trade-off, considering.

Hank went to shove the chess board off the table, and Erik caught it deftly with his power, preserving their progress in the came. The chess-board hovered to one side as Hank set the open case on the table. Erik watched with a small frown as Hank loaded up a needle and Charles rolled up his sleeve.

“What is that?” The question came from across the aisle, where Logan was also watching with a concerned expression.

“It’s the serum that keeps my legs working,” Charles replied, his eyes on the needle as Hank filled it with fluid.

“And keeps your powers from working,” Erik said softly. His frown had intensified to a glare, and the metal cap on the bottle snapped with a loud pop. Charles flinched and cried out in horror as the serum spilled across Hank’s hands. He grabbed for the needle, but it was bent.

“Charles! Stop, you’ll cut yourself.” Hank pulled the broken glass out of reach. He, too, stared in helpless horror at the empty vial and useless needle.

Charles glared at Erik, his words a harsh warning. “You don’t know what you’ve done.”

o0o

When the bottle of serum shattered, Hank knew he could never admit that was exactly what he had wanted to do for quite some time. Ever since he invented the terrible stuff. He hated taking away Charles' ability, despite the fact that it gave his friend back the use of his legs. But it was necessary.

Something that Erik-- Magneto --didn’t understand.

“You can’t hide from what you are, Charles.” Erik’s tone was that of an adult reprimanding a spoiled child. Charles just glared at his old friend, pushed himself out of the chair, and staggered to the other side of the plane. He brushed away Hank’s off of help, even though his legs were already uncoordinated and he had to hang onto a flat surface for support, be it a table, a chair, or Logan’s shoulder, the entire way. He was dropping by the time he reached the back of the plane, falling into his seat with a thump. He had to re-position his legs with the help of his hands.

Hank winced at the twinge in his spine. It wasn’t a sympathy pain; it was a projection from Charles’ mind. They didn’t have long now before things got completely out of hand.

“What I am is the problem,” Charles muttered. “Hank, we need a new plan.”

Hank had already closed the serum case and was pulling out maps, looking at available airports. “How long do we have until the summit? I can land us at an airfield that’s not so close to the city, you can stay on the plane while we go find Raven--”

“We need you with us." Logan had turned around to face Charles; there were no hiding spaces in a space this small.

Charles shook his head, and Hank could feel the frustrated emanating from Charles’ pained expression. Hadn’t the other two noticed yet?

They would soon enough, as soon as they were around more people. If not sooner.

“I can’t go anywhere like this.”

“Logan is right, we will need you with us to convince Raven,” Erik said. “I’ll get you a wheelchair.”

Hank had a faint sense that Erick wasn’t telling the entire truth. He had a back-up plan, although what it was wasn’t obvious. But his first choice was to bring Charles along.

Charles laughed bitterly and shook his head. Erik and Logan both flinched at the sound, both minds asking the same question. What was that sensation?

“You don’t understand. I can’t be around other people like this.” Charles didn’t gesture to his legs, but rather to his head. “That bullet affected more than my spine.”

“What?” Hank heard Erik’s question with his ears and with his mind. Finally, he was starting to get worried. Starting to sense that there was something wrong here that he didn't fully understand.

Across the aisle, Logan tapped the side of his head. “We don’t need a replay of everything that’s being said.”

Charles hmphed and looked to Hank, and Hank didn’t need to hear Charles’ telepathic projection to know that he wanted the other man to explain.

“A mutant’s powers come from their genes, but they are also tied to their physiology. With Raven, for example, if her skin were damaged in some way, she would not be able to hide that. She would show the injury no matter what form she’s in. With Charles, his mutation is tied to his nervous system, and while we usually think of the brain, the spine is also part of that system. The nerves that help Charles control his telepathy aren’t just in his brain, some of it is spread across his spine. When the vertebrae was crushed, his mutant ability was affected as well.”

There was a growing look of horror on Erik’s face as he slowly realized what Hank was trying to say. He turned around to stare at Charles, who didn’t avoid his gaze. There was a wave of grim satisfaction at the thought that Erik now fully understood what had happened on that beach.

“What part was affected?” I don't want to know. Had Erik even said that last bit out loud? Sorrow, fear, and guilt were rolling off of the former prisoner with growing tension.

“My legs are permanently shut down, but my telepathy is permanently turned on. I can’t control what I hear, or what others hear.”

“That echo. That’s you projecting thoughts?”

Charles nodded. “I can’t go near the city like this. Every thought, every emotion, every sensation within my range, I will hear them all. And so will you and anyone else close enough.”

“It’s not fun.” Hank looked down at his hands, still sticky with the spilled serum, then returned to his search of the map. “I can find us an isolated place to land, but I’m worried it will be too far away to get to the summit in time.”

Erik looked like he’d been hit with a sledgehammer. A memory rose in his mind, Charles' face looking up at him, saying, "She didn't do this. You did." 

Erik pulled his gaze away from Charles and focused on Hank. Raven. Sentinels. The future of the entire mutant race. “If what Logan says is true, we can’t risk arriving late.” He glanced back towards Charles. “We’ll have to deal with everything else.”

There's a reason your plans never worked out, Bub. No one had said anything out loud, but the thought entered Hank's mind in the exact tone of the man from the future. Erik glared at Logan.

It's getting worse, Hank thought. Erik and Logan both looked at him. Had they heard that?

Two voices answered wordlessly, Yes!

Erik raised one eyebrow. “This could get interesting.”

Behind them, Charles tipped his head back against the wall, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. “Oh, my friend. You have no idea.”