Note: There maybe at times, inconsistencies with previous parts – this would be because I’m writing this as I go … and then edit and adjust things down the road. Once it’s done, edited and reposted all of it will come together.
***
***
“Erik No!”
Charles had only stepped outside the room, for thirty minutes.
The Head Nurse had assured him, that she would make sure Erik was ready to leave. She adored Erik, and had practically adopted him these last few days. She was always gentle with him, helped him sit up, showed him how to hold his chest while he coughed. Had talked him through his breathing fits.
And after the one time she talked him out of a nightmare, ignoring the shaking metal railings. He had been tempted to kidnap her.
Charles had gone to the Administration Offices, to make sure he had everything they needed for Erik to be discharged, and pay his bill. He had discovered that despite everything that was being said about Cuba, their health system was slowly developing into one much like the one he had seen while at Oxford.
Instead of a bill, he had been handed over a packet of material for Erik’s rehabilitation: restrictions, breathing exercises, physical therapy, medications, treatment for the surgical incision, and a half dozen other important documents.
After picking up a bag full of medications, extra bandages and supplies he made his way back to the room. Azazael was due to arrive in the next few moments. The plan was for the teleporter to take Erik first, into the waiting arms of Hank. Charles would make sure the staff thought they had helped Erik out to the front to a cab, before he was ‘zapped’ home.
He was looking forward to going home.
He wasn’t looking forward to what was waiting for him.
Despite the stress and panic he felt every time Erik gasped for a breath, the past five days had been pleasantly calm. The two were content in their silence.
Charles was sure they would be back to bickering soon enough, and it would seem Erik wasn’t going to wait until they got back to New York.
“Where is Ester?” He stalked into the room glaring at the sitting up patient, who wasn’t supposed to be sitting up without help. “You were supposed to wait for me!”
“She went to get me a wheelchair.” Erik glared, breathing hard hand clutching at his chest. Just sitting up, and moving his legs over the edge of the bed had worn him out. “I refused to be carried by Azazael like a bride on her wedding night back to the manor.”
“You make a lovely bride.” The teleporter gave his burgeoning friend a smirk. He had popped in and out over the past few days, enjoying startling Charles and snarking off at Erik.
Erik glanced over at Charles a slight smirk on his face. “Charles prefers me in blue.”
He stared at the two of them, with a confused expression. Until he felt Erik push an image of himself, in a blue dress with fishnet stalkings …. “She told you!?” Charles blushed, and then laughed lightly as he ducked his head.
“I always thought maroon was more my color.” Erik chuckled only to cough. “Okay let’s do this.”
He stood on shaky legs, hand gripping the hospital bed. He bit back the groan, from the pain that shot through his whole body. ‘Suck it up Erik, you’ve had worse.’
<<You don’t have to be strong all the time.>>
<<I can’t be weak.>>
Charles touched his cheek. <<You’re the strongest person I know.>>
Erik reached out, taking Charles’ hand gripping it tightly. <<Don’t let go.>>
“Never.” He helped him move away from the bed, and closer to the teleporter.
Azazael wrapped his left arm around Erik, stepping closer to him. He then took his right hand, into his own, the tail wrapped around his shoulder tapping Erik on the shoulder.
“Well I always knew I would end up dancing with the devil.” He leaned into the taller mutant.
“You would take over hell, my friend.” Azazael glanced over to Charles. “I’ll be back in a few moments, so be prepared.
Charles nodded, stepping back almost everything he had was packed and ready to go. He just needed to shove all the paperwork and bag of meds into the duffle.
“Oh this is going … ”
And they were gone.