#but please keep your hands on the steering wheel in this conditions charles

[petit-papillion]

Pouring rain. Can't even see the cars. Charles to the fans: 👋

Charles in FP2 | Canada GP | 16 June 2023

📸 Eibner Memmler

[zombiesbecrazy]

a moment of truce

Summary: "Kite Man?“ A deep voice broke through his fuzzy thoughts. "Are you awake?”

AO3

Even before he opened his eyes he knew he had no idea where he was, which historically meant nothing good. He could feel that he was moving, probably in a car or in the back of a van or something, but he didn’t remember getting in a car and he definitely wasn’t in the driver’s seat.

Yay, abduction. He hadn’t been abducted in forever. It was almost an interesting change of pace if he didn’t know from experience that he was going to probably going to bullied into doing something that he didn’t want to do. He wasn’t that type of guy most of the time.

He didn’t want to be a bad bad guy after all.

Whoever was driving hit a bump. It wasn’t big, just enough to jostle him and his head gave him the sharp notice that it must have been hit pretty hard recently and it wasn’t super happy about that and he groaned at the pain.

“Kite Man?” A deep voice broke through his fuzzy thoughts. “Are you awake?”

“Kite Man?” Whoever was talking to him sounded familiar but it he couldn’t place it. It wasn’t one of the usual suspects who had a habit of trying to kidnap him for whatever reason. Definitely wasn’t the Joker in a tenor that deep, so things could be worse. “Hell yeah.”

“Hrh.” Now that was a sound that Chuck knew like the back of his own hand. Or the back of the man who said it’s backhand. He opened one eye to see the silhouette of sharp pointy ears from the seat in front of him, dashboard lit up in multicoloured lights and the streets of Gotham passing by the windows before he let it fall closed again. “You’re going to have a headache. Grade one concussion,” said Batman. "You should probably get medical attention.”

Headache was a bit of an understatement, stampeding elephants much closer to reality. “They’ll check me out in lock up,” he mumbled, debating trying to go back to sleep before he had to spend the night in gen pop.

“Lock up?”

“Aren’t you taking me in?”

“Did you do something for me to have to take you in?”

“I don’t… not tonight?” The thought about it for a moment, but things were a little fuzzy and his thoughts weren’t exactly what he could call clear. He had plans for the night but something had clearly interrupted them because he could still feel his detonators in his pockets instead of on the safe door that he had been planning on blowing up. “Don’t think I got the chance.”

“Then I have no reason to take you in.”

“Oh.” That wasn’t what he had been expecting because there were plenty of nights that Batman had caught up to him when he was minding his own business, just soaring across the city, and taken him down and dropped him off at the nearest GCPD precinct. It was rude, honestly, even if he did have incriminating contreband on him. “If I didn’t do anything, why am I in your car?” That is when something further clicked and he opened both eyes this time and looked around. “And why am I in the backseat and not in cuffs in the trunk?”

He was well acquainted with the restaint seat that popped out of the trunk of Batman’s car. They were old friends.

“I may have to escalate your condition to a grade two concussion.” Batman’s eyes flashed at him in the rearview mirror, gloves tightening on the steering wheel. “Robin’s grapple line snapped. I was too far away,” his words were clipped and rough. "You dove in and caught him. You hit the side of a building.”

“Oh.” It was slowly coming back to him. The kid had been swinging high above and Chuck had heard a loud snap, a terrified scream, a deep shout and saw the small body fall and he acted before he could think about it. He caught the kid, but he his speed and weight had caused them to go off course and then… he couldn’t remember anything else. He rubbed his head, hissing as his fingers brushing against a tender lump on the side. “Is the kid okay?”

“Fractured wrist”

“I’m fine,” said a young voice. The kid was curled up in a small ball in the front seat and Chuck hadn’t even seen him until he spoke. He was wearing a velcro splint on one of his arms. "Thanks. You probably saved my life.” The kid was putting on a good show, but his words were shaky, clearly shook up. Batman reached over and ruffled the boy’s hair and he leaned into the touch.

A part of Chuck’s stomach tightened at the sight and he had to turn away. “No problem.” Sometimes things just hit him. A reminder that was a punch in the gut and reopened the old wounds that were never really healed, just ignored the best they could be, which was not at all.

A few minutes passed in silence, Chuck staring out of the window at nothing, when Robin piped up again, turning around in his seat to look at him, smile big on his tiny face, clearly not bothered by his injury. He looked young, but maybe not as young as Chuck had originally thought now that they were so close. “Can we drop you off at home?”

This night just kept getting weirder, which meant a lot because his tolerance for weird in this city was pretty high. Part of him wondered if he was imagining the whole thing. Maybe he was passed out in a dumpster somewhere, having crashed to the ground, and his concussed brain was giving him a crazy coma dream because the alternative that he was sitting in Batman’s car with Robin talking to him as if this was part of some regular carpool situation, was bonkers. “Hell yeah.” Batman cleared his throat, head tilting in Robin’s direction, which made him chuckle. The kid could leap off buildings but apparently a third rate curse word was a step too far. “Sorry, habit. Yes, please.”

He was about to tell Batman to take the next right when he noticed that he was already turning in that direction, maneuvering the streets to Chuck’s apartment without him saying a word. He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing that Batman knew where he lived, but in all honesty he couldn’t really be surprised.

The car parked outside of Chuck’s dilapidated building, and Batman got out of the car, to pull the seat forward to let him out onto the street. Chuck grunted his thanks and started walking towards the door, but was surprised when Batman escorted him from the car. He unlocked his front door, but didn’t know what to do, because Batman was just standing there, staring at him, and it was eerie. He had the urge to cackle and a leap and unfurl his kite, but that was just silly at this point, and not only because it was on ground level and there was no wind; it would literally do nothing.

Something about Batman just brought that impulse out in him.

He was about to just keep heading inside, leaving the Bat alone in the dark when finally “Charles.” His voice was a little less dark and a little less echoed and Chuck wondered if this was what he sounded without the voice modulator turned on. “Thank you for catching him.” Batman tilted his head back towards the car where they could see Robin, his face lit up, probably playing with his phone. Kids. “Most wouldn’t have.”

Chuck knew what ‘most’ meant. He was talking about the villains of Gotham. The bad guys. The people like him. He held onto the door handle and stared down at his shoes. He didn’t always want to be a person like him. A person lumped in that group with them. Sometimes he just didn’t have any other options.

“He’s just a kid,” he said finally. "Kids don’t deserve to die. Especially not like that.” He sighed and looked back at Batman, into those unblinking glowing eyes of his mask. “Charlie loved Robin. He would have wanted me to save him.” It was true. Charlie had grown up in a city where Batman and Robin were a staple and while Batman’s costume had given him nightmares, Robin had been his favourite hero. Chuck had to bribe him with cookies just to let him put his Robin pyjamas in the washing machine every once in a while.

He vaguely wondered if Batman had the same problem.

“He would have wanted you to turn over a new leaf.”

“We’ll never know that, will we?” snapped Chuck without thinking and surprisingly Batman shook his head and raised his hands in defense. “I’m sorry. That was…” he trailed off and looked back towards the car. “Losing a child isn’t something you can get over. I understand.”

“You can’t understand unless you’ve had it happen.” He had hated that. The people in his life who said that they understood. They didn’t. They couldn’t possibly.

“I understand,” said Batman quietly and the words just hung there heavy in the air. It was a strangely intimate conversation for two men who had spent a lot of time punching each other in the face only now to bond over something so deeply personal.

“I… oh.” He didn’t know what to say with this mutual understanding they now had hanging between them. “Do you want to come in for a beer?” It was a strange thing to offer, but why the hell not? Maybe that is all Batman needed to lighten up; someone to offer him a hand and a little time to kick back and relax.

“I have to get Robin tended to.” Batman said, but there was a smile twitching on the edge of his lips. Of course he couldn’t leave a kid in the car when he goes for a drink with one of his regular baddies, that is just bad parenting, but Chuck had to wonder if maybe the circumstances were different perhaps the answer would have been different as well, even for just one night in a moment of truce. “You shouldn’t drink with a concussion.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a lot of things I shouldn’t do.” They both knew that he was going to have that beer anyway. And then redraw up his plans for breaking into that safe on another night. “Have a good night, Batman. I’m glad your boy is okay.” He pulled the door open and stepped inside. “Tell him he’s worth the headache.”

“He’ll be glad to hear it from someone who isn’t me.”

“Hell yeah.”

[infinitexechoes]

A Conversation Between Old Friends

[ @therxdpxril mentioned ➲ w/ guest muse ➲ Hank McCoy ]

----

There was a noticeable change in Charles that the students failed to notice, but not Hank. Hank had been around the professor long enough to know that something was amiss about him. And not so much in the bad way. God if you told him two years ago that Charles Xavier would have an actual glow about him, Hank would have laughed them off. Because even with the medicine that gave him the ability to walk once more, Charles STILL wasn't happy. His home, which had once been a school for orphaned mutants, was closed down permanently all because of a certain German.

How quickly fate can change things.

Hank was subtle with his observations, keeping his distance in the midst of the crowd of students hovering around Charles. This was the perfect time to mull over things, for it made it harder for Charles to hear what he was thinking if his attention was primarily on the students. And Hank had a lot of thoughts, particularly concerning a certain Russian who was also nearby observing, but with a fondness to his expression that Hank caught when his guard was down. Usually Illya kept cool demeanor; akin to a vicious, Russian guard dog when strangers were about. Many of the students had taken to Illya right away and he was doing his part by helping any and all who pulled him aside, giving Charles a much needed break when class wasn't in session. When he wasn't playing his role, Hank would catch the furtive glances Charles would cast the Russian's way or glimpse soft touches in passing when they thought no one was looking. A brush of hands. Lingering touches about the arm or shoulder. Smoldering eyes that screamed desire for something more than a little down time to chat.

And when the kids finally scattered leaving Charles to his devices, Hank was quick to saddle up behind his friend, wheeling him into his office unprompted.

❝You didn't have to do this, Hank. I get around my own house well enough.❞

❝Oh, I know, but just I felt like it.❞

Which was code for, 'we need to talk'. Once the doors closed behind them, Charles allowed Hank to lead him behind his desk. Once situated, he turned to his friend, studying him so.

❝You have questions about me and Illya.❞

❝Well---❞

❝I'm in your head Hank, and this was not very subtle at all.❞

❝I just---❞

❝You're worried.❞

❝Yes,❞ he confessed. ❝Erik---❞

❝He's not Erik.❞

❝But what if he leaves, Charles?❞

❝He won't,❞ he chuckled.

❝Yeah, but what if, Charles? What if he decides to leave just like the other two? What then?❞ Hank quickly crossed the room kneeling before his dear friend. It was clear to him that Charles was riding a high he hasn't felt in a long time. That high was dangerous --- and he should know considering how fragile his friend truly was. On the outside, Charles projected himself as a man that could shoulder everyone's burdens and for many years he had done just that, but sometimes one had to shoulder their own burdens as well. And what then? What happens when they break? 

Hank had seen Charles at his lowest and it wasn't a pretty sight. He was starving for attention but too proud to ask for it. He was filled with instant regret after sacrificing his spine trying to talk sense into his 'old friend'. He was hurt deeply --- and rightfully so --- and it was Hank's job as someone who stuck around to make sure Charles understood the risk with Illya. He was kind and sweet. They always are in the beginning, but what happens when the honeymoon phase is over and loyalties are tested? Would he steer the course or pull a Raven and Eric? Hank was pessimistic at best, but he would support Charles no matter what he decided.

❝Charles... I'm---❞ He needed to apologize because if Charles was in his head then he likely heard the line about his friend's sacrifice. He likely saw him musing over Erik's carelessness which was the true cause of Charles' condition, but it was a thing they never spoke of. Charles refused to blame Erik even though he was very much to blame while Hank, out of respect, blamed Erik in private. ❝Charles, I'm sorry---❞

The professor placed a hand on top of Hank's own, giving him something of a reassuring smile. ❝If he leaves someday, then we will pick up the pieces like we always do and carry on. In the meantime, let me have this moment Hank. He and I are just friends, but I like him. I like how he makes me feel so please don't ask me to throw it away out of fear of the future. I think we both learned our lesson with our old friends so I know better. I know not to let myself think this feeling will last forever because it won't. Nothing ever does, but we have the moment. It's all we ever have really.❞

There was something about Charles' words that had Hank choked up. Maybe it was because he knew he should have cherished the moments he had with Raven, or maybe it was the sadness behind Charles' words. Either way, he found himself kissing his friend's palm before moving away. Sure. He’ll let him have his moment. He still didn’t approve just yet because in his mind, it still felt too soon for Charles to be swept off of his feet. On the other hand, he had to admit Charles looked much better when he was glowing as opposed to the melancholy expressions he often wore whenever they were alone. So sure. He’d let him have the moment and as Charles said: they’d pick up the pieces somehow once Illya tossed him away in the same matter Erik did.