If only Kurt knew what Hank had gone through in the depths of Charles pain after the accident, Charles' reliance on the drug. How Charles had cried like a baby in his arms when pain from legs he could feel nothing from, something the doctors had called 'phantom limb', sang through him and left him unable to focus on anything else. When he had given into his anger and all but raged around the mansion like a child having a temper tantrum. Things Charles was glad that only Hank had seen, and he trusted the other man completely to never speak of it.

Three times a week. So many! Charles looked sad about that, his hand still on Kurt's head, as he gave the smallest nod of understanding. They needed to do something about this, clearly. Already he was thinking of some ways, and most of those would depend on Kurt's choices. "This... cannot keep happening, Kurt. For your own sake, it can't."

Charles let out a breath, watching those crimson eyes. "We can try and help it, though, if you're willing to work on it with me."