Taming the Wild

These Things That Just Happen To Us Whether We Like It Or Not

"Erik! Erik, run! We need to save the kids! Erik!" Charles woke up screaming. He was covered in sweat and dust, his entire body trembling out of control as he panted, eyes wide and terrified.

"Shh, it's okay, it's alright, Charles. Calm down, you're safe. Breathe."

A hand rested on his forehead, then slid up to stroke his dump hair. The voice sounded familiar, soothing, but it took Charles a moment to realize whom it belonged to.

"Hank?" he frowned, still feeling dizzy and trying to focus and make sense of things. What was Hank doing here?

The terrible unending ringing in his ears was piercing violently through his head, his mind and telepathy dulled as well as his other senses.

"It's alright, Charles. You're safe." Hank's voice said.

Charles closed and opened his eyes slowly, everything appearing in slow motion to him now, it was still so very confusing.

"Hank... there was an explosion." he said, willing himself to sit up straight, to get up, to look for Erik. His entire body was hurting and Hank quickly but firmly pushed him back onto the bed.

"You must lie down, Charles." his friend insisted.

"No, you don't understand." Charles protested weakly. "I need to find Erik and the kids! The fire... They might get hurt..."

"You're safe, Charles. You at my home. Wanda and Peter Lehnsherr are with Moira in the other bedroom. They're alive and okay. Only a few bruises but nothing serious."

Charles finally relaxed, letting himself drop back down onto the pillows without any resistance. A wave of relief ran through his body and he smiled breathlessly. "Thank God..." he whispered. And then looked up at Hank again. "What about Erik ? Is he with Moira too?"

"Umm, Erik?"

Hank sounded puzzled, his voice a little strained, and Charles quickly realized his slip - calling Erik by his first name was one thing but on top of that he'd uttered the word in a way that made it sound so personal, so intimate. It made it sound like a prayer and that bordered on dangerous. The mere thought of it making Charles' heart pound like crazy in his chest.

"Mr. Lehnsherr." Charles added quickly, blushing only slightly. "I meant Mr. Lehnsherr."

Hank was silent, his face seemed worried and Charles felt a cold shiver down his spine, his throat tight not letting him breathe as if he was being suffocated.

"Where is Erik?" he repeated, panic seeping through his voice.

Hank started fidgeting in suspicious silence. It was impossible to explain the dreadful emotions that this silence evoked in Charles.

"No. Hank, please, tell me he's alive!" Charles gasped, tears rolling down his cheeks before he could even realize he was crying.

"Calm down, Charl--"

"I can't bloody calm down until you tell me what happened to my friend!" Charles demanded. "So tell me! Please! Now! Just tell me... Where's Erik?"

He was in no condition to control the desperation and dread in his voice. Nor did he want to - all he wanted now was to know if Erik was alright.

"We're not sure." Hank replied quietly. "We don't know if Mr. Lehnsherr is dead or not. We couldn't find him. I'm sorry, Charles. We didn't even know he was in the house at the time of... I'm sorry."

Charles let out a pained gasp, running his trembling fingers through his damp with sweat hair. His breathing came in shallow, with difficulty, as if he was breathing only through sheer power of will. "No..."