wedonot | FIFTY ✖ VOICE

[Charles clicks on the audio feed, and it should be pretty apparent to anyone listening that something is wrong, but he's doing his level best not to act like it is. His breathing is a little labored, and he definitely sounds like he's in pain, but his voice is more or less level and controlled, focused on telling people what happened and not passing out or dying before help shows up.

All in all, he sounds way too calm for someone who just got stabbed.]

I found Senji. He's been tortured, probably at least for a few days, by his inmate. He's currently unconscious and in serious need of medical attention. [Which was sort of an understatement, really, not to mention Charles had no idea how they'd even go about treating him, if he was going to be lashing out and trying to cut anyone who came near him with weapons he could apparently create from his own blood, of all things.

Speaking of which.]

... Actually, Merlin, if you're not too busy, I could probably do with some, too. [He almost sounds more sheepish than anything else, although it still hurts and he's definitely maybe a little scared, because he's been hurt, but he's never actually died before.] We're on the second floor, in room twelve. It's sort of a mess. [Really, meaning, there's an awful lot of blood on the walls and everywhere else in the room ~~and maybe coming out of me nbd~~. :|

It occurs to him vaguely that this probably isn't something he should be telling just anyone - he has no idea where Toto is, or what the hell he was really planning on doing here - but he's pretty confident he can knock out almost anyone trying to come into the room before Merlin or Erik or someone got here, so instead of bothering to retroactively filter it or do much of anything other than keep pressure on the wound, he just drops the comm back into his lap and waits.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Frowning slightly at Erik - what was he going to say? - Alex lets it go, glancing at Charles. It's weird. This does sort of remind him of Cuba, but Erik's still here and Charles is okay.]

[He smiles, looks at Charles.] Yeah, we should probably get out of here.

[Charles can't help it. His attention snaps to Merlin at the thought, sending a brush of alarm and concern his way - Who? - even though he can guess, but he knows it's not something Merlin wants to discuss in front of Erik or Alex, so he uses the hand on his shoulder and brush of sudden positivity as a convincing distraction, smiling as he answered Erik's question.]

Thanks to some timely intervention by three people I've come to truly trust, appreciate and respect, yes. Although I think I'm gravely in need of a shower and a change of clothes. [He apparently can be wordy and articulate when drunk and when suffering from the effects of severe bloodloss! Who knew!]

Give me a hand up? [Although, really, he'd probably need to use at least one of them as a human crutch, considering he wasn't entirely sure his legs would support his weight. He wouldn't exactly protest being carried, but he still had a few hang ups surrounding appreciating functional legs, and he'd rather walk to wherever they're going than not. B(]

[It's how Cuba should have gone, really. Erik hesitates for a moment - he'd been about to shift the magnetic field around Charles to let him float - but given Charles' exhaustion, he can 'hear' those hang ups, and decides against it.

Instead, he stretches out his hand, rising for leverage to pull Charles up.]

Only you would be verbose after being stabbed, [he mutters dryly.]

He's a wordy drunk and a wordy stab victim, I guess.

[Making light of the situation doesn't keep him from glancing at Erik as he takes Charles's hand. He has to let that happen, though, it seems fair, and he's not about to argue with Charles when he's in this state.]

[He does hover a little bit, though. Maybe a lot.]

Apparently.

[But that's all he's saying on the matter as he takes Erik's hand and lets him pull him up, mostly because his vision is definitely going a little spotty, which means he is both holding onto Erik's hand pretty tightly and listing a little towards his friend as he blinked and tried to get his bearings back.]

[He notes the glance from the corner of his eye - it's hard not to keep an eye on Alex, given their latest talk -and steadies Charles with a hand on his shoulder. But he steps to the side, giving Alex the room to step up and help support ~~mom~~ Charles. He doesn't nod to him, or gesture him in (not like he gestured Moira forward on the beach); he knows what it's like, to be desperate to help and be unable to. So he makes sure Alex is able to.]

Have I mentioned lately that you're very lucky, Charles?

[This is still weird, to be feeling gratitude instead of resentment towards Erik, but it overwhelms him suddenly when Erik makes room for him. This is how it should have been - the automatic assumption that they would all be there to help if something bad happened.]

[He swallows, doesn't say anything, and steps to the other side, nudging Charles's arm up over his shoulder. Charles is going to be safe, and Erik's going to be . . . he doesn't know what, but something different, if things keep going like this. Better not to talk at all right now.]

[Charles doesn't really want to be thinking about Cuba right now, because as much as he hates to admit it, he does feel pretty weak and dizzy, his control's not exactly great, and he's sort of got issues with both. But he does lean on Alex and doesn't let go of Erik - which probably does have more to do with Cuba than he'd really like to admit - and tries not to think of the last time he was this seriously hurt, because that's just unpleasant to get into and it's easier to focus on not passing out and answering Erik's question.]

Probably. I'm sure you'd enjoy mentioning it a couple hundred more times, though.

[It's what he and Charles had promised, really; when they said come be accepted, it wasn't supposed to be just for the moment, for as long as Shaw's a threat, though that is as far as Erik thought. For decades, that was all he could see, wearing self-imposed blinders that kept his focus steady.

Shaw isn't a threat anymore, and there are pieces to pick up. Friends to support, kids to guide. He has a job, a duty to do by Alex, by Sean and Hank and Raven and Angel and everyone like them. Erik hadn't had a place to belong when he was a boy. But he could supply it for others who needed it.]

I would, actually. I'm sure you won't mind.

FIFTY ✖ VOICE

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