Its not the idea of having seen or not seen everything, though to be honest Charles had still closed the door when it had been time to take a piss. It was the humiliation of not being able to do it for himself. It was a most basic function, one he'd been managing all by himself since he was two and a half and now ...
Charles screwed his eyes shut, feeling Erik's touch but careful not to reach back a return, not while the other man's mind was tender and overstretched for a non-telepath. Breathing slowly, Charles fought back the edge of hysteria that was starting to inch into his thoughts. He could feel his legs, could get his toes to move but he knew without testing it that he could not stand, that he couldn't even move his legs beyond the twitching of his toes.
Fear tried to grip him and he swallowed hard against an onrush of bile at his helplessness.
Where is your much valued brilliance now, Xavier? Can't even get up to go take a piss. How the hell were you going to ever stop those missiles on that beach?
Turning and pushing his face against his pillow, Charles snarled at himself and began to push his arms up under him. He wanted to crawl to the bathroom on his own, just to prove to himself that he could. He'd always found a work around when he was on his own...
Shoving, dragging and shoving that chair into the moonlight...
By the time Erik returned from the bathroom, Charles had wrestled his upper body upright and was glaring at his legs with a mulish expression in his blue eyes. Awake but still left somewhat unguarded by Hank's drugs, Charles actually allowed some of the frustration he was feeling to leak around the edges of his shields, his mind starting to snap along with plotting out what he needed to do next.
"When," he began, pausing to lick his lips and there was little doubt from the way he was staring down at his legs that these words came from him reluctantly. "My mother's health was in decline, we had a wheelchair for her. It should still be in her rooms."
He wanted to look up into Erik's face, to reach for the comfort the man had given him when they had been tumbled together in the landscape of his mind but he couldn't. Now that he was awake and faced with the reality of legs that would not hold him any time soon, a stark reminder of his humbling on the beach, Charles felt shame and anger curling along his spine. His fingers gripped tight at the bed sheet, barely aware of his own nudity at the moment, only of the naked vulnerability of his own pride.
no subject
Charles screwed his eyes shut, feeling Erik's touch but careful not to reach back a return, not while the other man's mind was tender and overstretched for a non-telepath. Breathing slowly, Charles fought back the edge of hysteria that was starting to inch into his thoughts. He could feel his legs, could get his toes to move but he knew without testing it that he could not stand, that he couldn't even move his legs beyond the twitching of his toes.
Fear tried to grip him and he swallowed hard against an onrush of bile at his helplessness.
Where is your much valued brilliance now, Xavier? Can't even get up to go take a piss. How the hell were you going to ever stop those missiles on that beach?
Turning and pushing his face against his pillow, Charles snarled at himself and began to push his arms up under him. He wanted to crawl to the bathroom on his own, just to prove to himself that he could. He'd always found a work around when he was on his own...
Shoving, dragging and shoving that chair into the moonlight...
By the time Erik returned from the bathroom, Charles had wrestled his upper body upright and was glaring at his legs with a mulish expression in his blue eyes. Awake but still left somewhat unguarded by Hank's drugs, Charles actually allowed some of the frustration he was feeling to leak around the edges of his shields, his mind starting to snap along with plotting out what he needed to do next.
"When," he began, pausing to lick his lips and there was little doubt from the way he was staring down at his legs that these words came from him reluctantly. "My mother's health was in decline, we had a wheelchair for her. It should still be in her rooms."
He wanted to look up into Erik's face, to reach for the comfort the man had given him when they had been tumbled together in the landscape of his mind but he couldn't. Now that he was awake and faced with the reality of legs that would not hold him any time soon, a stark reminder of his humbling on the beach, Charles felt shame and anger curling along his spine. His fingers gripped tight at the bed sheet, barely aware of his own nudity at the moment, only of the naked vulnerability of his own pride.