***
“Oh God.” Raven’s hand went over her mouth as she stared at the bloody aftermath. “He pulled out …”
Alex turned to Moira eyes flashing with rage, he could feel the energy building up within him.
Wind began to whip around all of them, as Janus calmly twisted his hands, making each tornado grow, eyes focused on one person.
“Stop.”
Everything and everyone froze.
There was a partial red glow surrounding Alex.
Sean’s hair was pushed sideways, as tears streamed down his face, mouth half open.
Raven was partially turned away, hand reaching for Charles.
Charles stepped in front of Moira. “Why?”
“You really have to ask?” She wore a shocked expression. “You were on that beach, you saw what he did. Not just the missiles but to Shaw. I was there, heard your scream as he killed him. It hurt you.”
“Yes it did.” Charles wasn’t going to deny that, and he was pretty sure that particular argument when it arrives will be epic, enough that the kids will flee the building or lock them in the danger room. “But it doesn’t mean you have the right to detain him.”
“He’s dangerous Charles.” She reached out to him, hand touching his arm. “What else would he be able to do? How many weapons will he be able to control?”
“And Azazael?” He asked. “He can just pop into a Bank’s Vault and steal the money.”
“Well he did work for Shaw, as did Janus over there.” She pointed at the other mutant. “I can understand your sympathy to Angel, Shaw is known for his manipulation.”
“So Azazael and Janus couldn’t have been manipulated?” He asked head tilted slightly. “They are obviously ‘bad guys’, is it because one looks like the devil?”
“It’s not that …”
“Really?” His snort was humorless. “Just because someone stumbles and loses their way; that doesn’t mean they are lost forever.”
“Oh come on Charles. There’s second chances, and there’s criminals.” She rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. “You do realize Erik killed his way to Shaw.”
“Yes.” He answered easily, knowing he shocked her. “I also know everyone he killed were Nazis. I won’t judge his actions that are a product of being tortured.”
“So we should just let people seek revenge?” She argued the moral point.
“So we should just lock people up because they could be dangerous?” He pushed her moral argument back. “You, the CIA, the government, all of you wanted Shaw dead. He’s dead. So now because you realized how powerful Erik is you want to lock him up?”
“He was going to…”
“He took a bullet for me.” Charles gave her pointed look. “You’re a trained professional, yet you continued shooting with me behind him, what were you thinking? He pulled a submarine out of the water, you think a few bullets would stop him.”
“It did didn’t it.”
“So you intended to kill him.”
“I had to protect all those people.”
“And who was protecting us?” He took a step back, shaking his head. He knew this argument was never going to be won. No one was right. No one was wrong. The key was to find the balance in between.
“He still needs to be detained and questioned.”
“I won’t let you have him.” He gave her a sad smile. “You must realize that.”
“You really can’t stop me …” She suddenly stopped and looked at Charles’ hesitation in her eyes. “You’re not Erik.”
“No, I’m not. But I am as powerful as he is, yet you don’t fear me. You don’t want to lock me up. Yet all I have to do … ” He leaned close to her, and snapped his fingers. “… is this.”
He caught her as she dropped, just as the room came back to life.
Alex and Sean both stumbled, when they saw Charles in front of them, holding an unconscious Moira. He gave them a look, getting both to move quickly to take her off his hands. “I’ve wiped her memory of us, all of us. The last thing she remembers is going to Vegas to find Shaw.”
“We’ll get her back to the city.” Janus pulled his whirlwinds back, and gave Charles a nod. “Is there anything we need to bring back?”
“My sanity?” Charles gave them a half smile. “Get back as soon as you can. Angel, Raven can you clean up the blood?”
Raven looked a bit more green, than blue, but nodded. “Is he going to be okay?”
“No, ’cause I’m going kill him!” Charles stalked towards the bedroom.
***
Hank wasn’t sure what to do. Blood was pouring off Erik, and he had no idea how to stop it. Azazael had dropped both of them next to the bed, then helped get the unconscious stripped and laying down.
The pulled staples didn’t add to the damage, the problem was that the wound was now open, and bleeding all down his chest and onto the sheets. He was more worried about the wires, the ones that were holding the sternum together.
With a growl he grabbed the pillow and shoved it on his chest, hoping to stop the bleeding. If he smothered him in the process, so be it.
He felt the air shift around him, and smelled the sulfur. He was getting good at knowing when the Teleporter came and went. It might’ve had something to do with their fight at Cuba. He snorted at the memory of their fight, especially now that he was relying on him to help him save Erik.
Irony.
Another pop this time with an added, yelp.
Hank looked over to see an older man, wearing a white doctors coat. His ID said Dr. Gregory McMillian, New York University Hospital.
“Did you just steal a doctor?” Hank asked in shock.
“Yes.” Azazael shrugged. “You are not trained to deal with his wounds. I brought a doctor, instead of taking Erik to one.”
“Hello.” Dr. McMillian looked down to see Hank holding a pillow over a prone man. “Dear God man, are you trying to kill him!”
“No stop the bleeding!” He pulled off the blood soaked pillow.
“Out of my way.” He pushed Hank to the side, to get a closer look at the injury. He needed to get the bleeding to stop first, and then deal with everything else. “You, the red one, pop back to where you grabbed my black bag, now!”
Azazael popped back out.
“And you Mr… Is that fur?” He asked then shook his head. “Never mind, I need bandages, iodine, thread and a needle.”
Hank ran off to grab what was needed, just as Azazael popped back in, with not just with his bag, but a box filled with variety of hospital supplies. “I stopped by the pharmacy.”
“You are definitely useful.” He motioned towards the bag. “Hand me some bandages.” Azazael handed them over, watching as the doctor place them on Erik’s chest and leaned against the wound, just slightly. “Next, give me those ace bandages, and help me move him so I can get these wrapped around him.”
By the time Hank came back, they had a make shift pressure bandage. “I haven’t done that since the war.”
“Which war?” Hank asked handing him the tools.
“The Second World War, I was a medic landed on Omaha Beach, got too much practice using pressure bandages. I see our patient, was a survivor of the camps.” He looked down at the black numbers. “I helped with triage after we liberated some of the concentration camps. It’s something you don’t forget.”
“Now what?” Hank asked, adrenaline still pumping through his system.
“I see you have an IV stand, do you have any fluids or blood?” He asked, only to startle when the red one disappeared. “How does he do that?”
“He’s a Teleporter, a Mutant.” Hank shrugged. “We all are, well Mutants, a Teleporter is very unique.”
The doctor only nodded, then focused back on his patient. “What’s his name? And how did this happen?”
“His name is Erik.” Charles’ voice joined the small group. “And he’s a stubborn asshole who has no sense of self preservation.”
“A survivor then.” Gregory chuckled, he knew his sense of humor was darker than most. It was formed in the trenches, and built in the ER. “This looks like a gunshot wound.”
“Originally, but he just pulled out all his staples and wire.” Charles ended up sitting on the chair, staring at the prone man in the bed, holding back the tears. “He can manipulate metal.”
“I can stitch him back up, get some blood and fluids in him. We’ll need to antibiotics, I’m sure with this added trauma it will be inevitable that he will end up with an infection, but we can stay ahead of it.”
“Thank You.”
“Don’t thank me yet, someone has to go tell my wife, I’ll be late for dinner.” He gave the young man a soft smile.