Big Things

Chapter 8

AN: Two updates in one day? No way! That's how much I love you, my darlings! 

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Charles was paralyzed. There was nowhere for him to go while Erik and his mother were hugging, and crying, and laughing, and she was going Oh, let me look at you, how grown you are , and he was going Maaama, and they were repeating to one another how much they missed each other. Charles just had to remain there in that armchair, his lips pursed, his hands gripping tightly at the armrest while he tried to keep his face in tact.

It took Mrs. Lehnsherr a while to believe that this was indeed her son but once she looked closely, properly, into that face, once he told her things only Erik and his mother would know, then she believed it. And once again Charles had his proof.

He got what he wanted. He got the truth. He even got to touch Erik's mind. It was ironic that it should all happen this way. Now that his telepathy was back he wanted nothing more but to jam that syringe inside his arm again, feel the liquid inside his vein and wait for his powers to shut down. But he didn't. Not yet. He wasn't sure if Erik and Edie wouldn't need him as a telepath later on so he just waited.

While his face remained expressionless, even if it were a little paler than usual, his thoughts were on a loop, "I slept with a teenager. I blew a teenager. Several times. I let said teenager blow me in return. Again, several times. I touched him and he touched me. I'm a despicable human being. I'm a sick man, a very sick sick man."

This went over and over in his head without a pause, constant and relentless. The accusatory inner voice went on and on without mercy. But why would it be merciful? Charles deserved no mercy. What he had done was disgusting.

"Thank you! Thank you so much!"

He suddenly realized Edie Lehnsherr was looking at him, she was thanking him . For corrupting her boy. For taking her young son to his bed and--

"I would never have known the truth if it weren't for you!" Edie continued, making Charles feel even worse with each word.

"Please, don't thank me." he heard himself say. His voice was distant and hoarse. He cleared his throat, clenching the armrest even tighter. "There's no need for that."

As if to ruin Charles completely Erik spoke too, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Charles was so good to me, mama!" he said, smiling brightly. "He helped me a lot when the stress was too much and I was so confused about the world."

Charles felt even more sick with himself now.

Erik kept on talking, telling his mother about his work and his plans for the future of mutant kind. Edie listened to him with pride in her eyes. But there was something else Charles could detect from her mind. It was sadness. She was sad with the heavy feeling that her son was not going to return to her. That she's lost him. Charles was familiar with that feeling.

He cleared his throat. "Perhaps I should leave now." he said, taking out the syringe from his pocket where he kept it. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to need to inject myself with this..."

Charles had a period of his life when he was never sober. He had been drinking all the time, wallowing in self-pity and devastation. However, this was the first time in his life when he truly felt like an addict. He couldn't even get up and leave without his syringe, without his fix.

His hands were trembling even as he brought the needle to his flesh.

"Here, let me." Erik offered, surprising Charles as well as Mrs. Lehnsherr. "What? I'm not an idiot. I can do this."