bakerstreet | thursday pic prompt

"But we do," Charles said softly, catching the small motions of Kurt's hands but for now, keeping his to himself. "It comes with life, but you're right. No one should suffer, but that's what we fight for. To keep as few as possible from suffering. I'm not the optimist who believes it's possible to have a bright, shining, perfect world, but we do as much as we can. That's why you're wearing this." He reached and tapped the leather of the uniform.

Which was why he brought the X-Men to existence again at all, because they could do something. Because they were needed. It still hurt, he believed their deaths always would, but he had pushed it to keep going. Now? Now.. parts of him wanted to break down but there was too much, there were people, relying on him unlike the last time when there was nothing left.

In the entirety of his life, Kurt had always done his best to not cry often, but listening to Charles speak, imagining all of the good that the X-Men could do to protect people - mutants and humans alike - it brought on the all too familiar stinging sensation and he drew the hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. What a moment to get sentimental!

He laughed, despite the tears forming in the corners of his eyes, threatening to start running down his cheeks at any minute. "I'm an optimistic pacifist," he forced through his shuddering breath, "I always hope for the best and want to see the decency in people, even if they have proved otherwise. There are some people that show their intentions right away, like the Ringleader at the circus and the Announcer at the cage fights ... They are exceptions to this."

Both of his hands lifted this time, palms pressing against his cheeks, fingers rubbing at his eyes to rid himself of the tears. "Are you sure I am a right choice for this team, Professor? I do not meant to question your judgement and I will always strive to do my best as long as I am here, but ... are optimism and pacifism something that we need?"

Oh, oh no, Kurt, none of that. Seeing the beginning of those tears hit hard to Charles' heart, and he couldn't help himself in what he did. With a gentle hand, he reached out and put it on Kurt's wrist, wrapping around it and holding there for a moment before drawing it away from Kurt's cheek. There was a small smile on his lips, a great deal of empathy in his eyes as he said quietly, "this right here? Only shows me how right I am."

If Kurt would allow him, he would draw the young man down and into a hug, one that would begin easily and tighten if Kurt didn't draw away. If not, he would leave his hand on that wrist and merely watch his face. "We don't just need people who are strong or powerful, who can hit hard. We also need the people who will keep those people in check and make sure that what we're doing is as right as we can make it."

The reaction is something that can't exactly be helped; he'd been so grateful of Charles' acceptance of his angelic markings then surprised and pleased that the telepath had trusted him with the revelation of his own scars. On top of that, Charles' re-enforcement of why he was here, why he was an X-Man - it left a comfortable weight on his shoulders and filled him to the brim with happiness and genuinely honorable feeling. He allowed the hand to be pulled away, meeting the other mutant's gaze and smiling gently.

Kurt hadn't quite anticipated the next movement of Charles tugging him down into a hug, the gesture causing his eyes to broaden with astonishment. He inhaled somewhat sharply and brought his free arm up, balancing himself out to return the embrace by looping his arm around Charles' shoulders and squeezing tight. "Then, I will continue to do my best and make sure that we do the right thing, including my diligence with practicing to keep others out of harms way."

Charles tightened the hug for a moment more before he let go, reaching up to briefly ruffle Kurt's streaked hair. "I know you will. And... Kurt? If it comes to it, and you feel the need to... add, come and find me, regardless of the hour." He raised an eyebrow towards Kurt with a questioning expression, trying to make sure that Kurt understood he meant it. Yes, he didn't know the meaning behind those scars just yet, but that could come with time. He was curious, but this had been a big step forward (maybe for both of them) and he wasn't about to push for that.

"Go head up for a rest," he said in a way to defuse the air slightly, offering a small smile. "Teleport yourself downstairs and get changed, head up normally. I'm going to find my sister and let her know what happened this afternoon... and Doctor McCoy the results of our testing. He'll be very excited to hear all about it."

A relieved sigh passed his lips, followed soon by a huff of a laugh when Charles tousled his hair. He leaned back enough to meet his teacher's eyes, blinking thoughtfully then grinning and nodding toward the mentioning of 'adding' things; Charles didn't need to outright say it for him to get the meaning behind it. "Understood, Professor. I hope it does not come to that, but if it does, I pray that I am strong enough to control myself until I can talk with you." At a later date, when the both of them were less tender on the subject, there could be more discussion on both of their scars.

"Okay," he agreed with some reluctance, still wanting to continue with the training, although he was feeling rather tired. "You do not want me to teleport you back inside? I would have no trouble doing so, considering how close we are and all."

[Sorry I went quiet briefly. Yesterday ended up a CRAZY day somehow. My dealership found my perfect car and we were dealing with that WHILE I'm at work trying to get stuff done AND while I was trying to write the multi-page document outlining all the info characters need to know for my LARP event I'm running in a month AND getting lab results back for a blood test that were not good THEN running home, getting food, and trying to book plane tickets on Expedia between four people going to Japan which had two lay overs in each direction. @_@]

"I'll need to go back upstairs to find Raven as it is," Charles assured, giving a quick smile. "Besides, it's a beautiful day out. No small hardship for me to be able to enjoy it while heading back inside. We'll talk tomorrow, and make sure you have a large breakfast." Not that he thought the young man wouldn't be starving by the time he woke up, but it was a part of that more fatherly feeling in him he couldn't quite help.

He started towards the house, then peered back and his smile grew slightly. "Go on." Before he let the wheelchair go at full speed down the driveway.

[good golly!! you have been extremely busy! XD i was gonna say, "oh, it's okay, i've been busy, too." but you have been FAR more caught up with real life than i have. lmao i'm glad you got your car and japan tickets and larp stuff, but that's not good that your blood test wasn't good. D: i hope that everything gets worked out with that and good lord, each direction? that sounds ridiculous! also, kinda went ahead a little more to get to our next idea~]

"Ah, right." He returned the smile and dipped his head, eyes glittering with elation. "Enjoy the weather, then. I will go rest for the remainder of the day and make sure that I load up on carbs in the morning." Oh, that meant something nice and filling, like pancakes with lots of butter and syrup! Kurt's grin widened at the thought as he headed for the door.

Hesitating for a moment, he blinked and looked over his shoulder just as Charles glanced at him one last time. "... thank you, Professor." Then, in a swirl of smoke, he was gone.

After the blue boy had gone back to the locker room, gotten changed then returned to his room, it didn't take long for him to wind down from the earlier exercise by losing himself in a book he'd been enthralled with. The longer he read, the heavier his eyes got and before he could register it, he'd curled onto his side and dozed off, clutching the book to his chest in his sleeping state.

Throughout most of the night, Kurt rested peacefully, somehow ending up with one arm and his tail dangling off the edge of the bed. It wasn't until about two in the morning that something dark crept into his mind, began disturbing the quietness of his dreams; the smell of burning skin and something else he couldn't quite make out, his own familiar scent of brimstone, mixed with the acrid smoke of fire.

He coughed in his sleep, as if struggling to breathe, shifting up onto his hands and knees, face burying into his pillow. Why did his hands burn?

Another flash in his thoughts - the screaming of the announcer from the cage fight, his own pained whimpering (had he done that out loud?) from trying his hardest to get out of the electrified prison, the cry of agony from when Angel's feathers had burned away when he'd slammed the winged warrior into the metal to protect himself.

"Nein!" he shouted, struggling about in his blankets, sweat-dampened limbs tangled effectively in the sheets and blankets. "Please ..." And try as he might, no matter how hard he fought, he couldn't seem to get free of his bed, of the damn cage, of the turmoil inside of his head ...

[Works perfectly for me!]

Sleeping had become a thing of difficulty since his return home from Egypt and what had happened. The nightmares tended to come when he least expected it and left him panicked, sweating, and reliving parts of it that he didn't even want to remember. Hank was the only one who knew how he spent most of his nights - reading, researching into the scientific or politic side of being a mutant, checking on the finances for the school. All things until he could exhaust himself. No wonder he had fallen asleep in the library.

What surprised him that night was the feeling of something wrong in the air. He lifted his head from his work, one hand spread across a bill he needed to speak to the landscaping company about, and he tried to focus on that sensation creeping on the air. It was something he had become far more sensitive to in the time since Jean had become a part of their school, given how dangerous her nightmares had the potential to be, but while similar, didn't 'taste' of her.

With some effort, he shifted himself over into his wheelchair, still in his pajamas, and started up towards the student rooms. Barefoot and in a thin teeshirt, he didn't think too much of it as he narrowed down the feeling towards the boys' side, then to his surprise, Kurt. His brows shot up as he knocked on the door, and in a split second it was opened by a very sleepy looking Peter.

"...kinda late isn't it, teach?" Peter asked, cracking a yawn. Definitely had been asleep at the knock.

"I think your roommate is having a nightmare," Charles calmly explained, making the speedster look over his shoulder towards the thrashing Kurt. Charles caught that blink of surprise.

"Uh, yeah. Should I wake him up?" Before Charles could even respond, Peter was at Kurt's side. Charles just managed a 'wait!' before Peter's hand touched Kurt, catching Peter before possibly he ended up getting a very startled Kurt to react. He gestured for Peter to go over to his own bed and came into the room, wheeling himself beside Kurt.

"Kurt?" Trying quietly, not wanting to pull the young man out of his sleep any more violently than the dream felt even from a distance.

The burning in his hands only seemed to intensify, causing his distressed whimpering to increase, despite the fact the pain was only phantom; it all felt so real and it was like he was there again, in the cage fight with Angel and then-- darkness.

For a moment, his struggling ceased - just as Peter had reached out to wake him. Then, Kurt twisted onto his back, threw his head against the pillow and arched before dropping rather suddenly and falling still once more. Another image, something that seemed more comforting to start with, but it didn't last long. He was in a basement, surrounded by a circle of candles, hands clasped around ebony prayer beads and a blade gripped in the spade of his tail.

The knife lifted to his shoulder, cut into the skin, allowing crimson to pour forth and although it hurt, he simply applied more pressure to continue the motion, knowing the pain would fade and the blood would dry, but the scar would be forever. All the while, a voice - deep and unrecognizable - echoed through his thoughts: 'It's an abomination. We must be rid of it.'

'It's a demon.'

Another voice, 'Fight or they'll kill us both!'

"I won't," he pleaded, curling into himself and clutching his arms. "Never again." A return to the darkness, the faint crackling of electricity. The box he'd been kept in before battles. The claustrophobic conditions, the inability to see, to move, to break free ...

'Kurt?'

His name, spoken by a familiar voice, shot through with concern. He reached with both hands, pressing them to the doors of the box and fighting against whatever was keeping them closed. Who? Who was--?

"Charles," he breathed, reaching, stretching, grasping at air, but in his dream, he couldn't push past the confines of the container he was trapped in.

Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. His brows came together and carefully he shifted himself to be closer, glancing once to Peter to make sure the young man was away where he'd left him but Peter already looked like he was fascinated where he sat. With a quick breath, Charles reached out and touched his fingertips to Kurt's temple. His eyes closed, and he reached in-

He jerked slightly in his chair as he dropped into Kurt's dream, burning inside as his whole being suddenly felt absolutely trapped, like he couldn't breathe, claustrophobic, but unlike Kurt, he could drag himself up above it. What was this? What sort of horrid nightmare? He could smell something burning, cooked flesh, hear the crackle of electricity-

"KURT!" A call out, trying to shatter through the dream and pull the other to him.

The touch at the side of his head earned a jerk in response, his face creasing with pain, as if it hurt for Charles to do that. Within the dream, he continued struggling in the enclosed space, twisting his torso this way and that, forcing the entirety of his strength against the doors, but to no avail. Kurt dropped his hands to his sides and slumped back, breathing heavily at the over-exertion; he wanted to cry for help, beg for someone to come and-- No! He was an X-Man now - he needed to be brave, he needed to--

His name again, louder this time, urging him to lift his attention back to the doors. Charles. It was Charles.

He drew his arms up again, slammed both of his palms into the doors with all his might, forced them to push open--

And woke suddenly in his bed, golden eyes snapping open in complete shock, mouth agape in the same manner. The hand that had been grasping for nothing reached and took hold of Charles' wrist, a little more firmly than he'd intended, but nothing too painful. His head whipped between his teacher and his roommate, features practically disintegrating into sorrow, "I ... I'm sorry," he whispered, releasing his hold on Charles' arm and withdrawing into himself. Then, again: "I'm sorry!"

For Charles, he came out of the nightmare with a gasp, his eyes flashing open and a roaring in his ears as he returned to his own skull. He snapped back into his chair, feeling a hand wrap around his wrist before it could fall into his lap. Then it was gone, and he could hear Kurt's voice in his ears, working past the roaring and leaving him sitting there, panting.

"I'm gonna... go for a run," came the voice from the other side of the room and for once, Charles was grateful for a bit of a more subtle decency out of Peter. He heard the door open and shut, but he didn't look up. Instead, he looked to Kurt with a pain blooming in his chest at this young man's reaction to his nightmares, a sympathy that couldn't be denied. Quickly eyeing the distance, he pulled his chair as close to the bed as it could get and leaned, his hand landing on Kurt's arm and squeezing gently.

"Don't be sorry," he started with, any signs of sleep roughness gone from his voice. "Everyone's fine." Except you, but he wouldn't tell Kurt that. He wanted simply to reassure, for now. "It's okay, Kurt. It's okay." His voice stayed low, trying to be soothing, giving Kurt the grip of his hand to focus on and see that he wasn't being pulled away from.

He brought a hand to his head, tangling his fingers through his bangs, the inside of his wrist rubbing across his sweat-covered forehead. Had he ...? His head jerked in the direction of Charles, heart leaping into his throat at the sight of him reeling back in his chair and breathing heavily.

Oh, God, no. He'd hurt him and ran Peter out of the room, if the sound of the door was any inclination. Kurt gripped his head harder and let out what could only be described as a pathetic whimper. Why? Why did the people he cared about always get hurt without any intention? He inhaled, almost ready to lose himself to the fear and and despair building within him, but a touch on his arm drew him back to the reality of the moment.

"But, I--" he stopped his wavering voice from continuing, glancing between where Peter had been then back to Charles, mouth hanging open in wordless shock. The telepath was right, though; he hadn't physically hurt anyone from the looks of it, but now - now, Charles knew his secret. The nightmares that tormented him more often than he wanted to admit and suddenly, he felt so small and afraid, terrorized by his own painful memories.

He was able to keep the dam from bursting, but not strong enough to stop himself from gripping Charles' arm and bending forward to throw his free limb around him, face burying into his shoulder. "I did not want to hurt anyone ..."

His heart broke there for the young man with the truly good heart who had suffered so much at the hands of others. Charles shifted his weight to hold Kurt and brought his arm up so that he could hold Kurt, giving him that place to hide himself away from his nightmares. His other hand gently stroked back some of the dark hair, his voice so very soft. "I know," he murmured quietly, "I know you didn't." His arm around Kurt tightened, his own eyes closing.

"This should have never have happened to you. Never. I will make sure it never happens again." His head leaned against Kurt's, feeling a fierce protectiveness like a hot coal in his chest. This, his mind thought in passing, had to be what being a parent felt like. The thought was pushed aside for now, holding himself in that leaning position to let Kurt find himself again.

Peter seemed to understand he needed to be out of the room and after a moment of concentration, he could feel the young man in what he believed was one of the lounge rooms, probably in front of the TV already. Good. Kurt wouldn't have to worry too much about this moment of pain being seen. Teenage pride was a touchy thing and he didn't need any more done to it.

"...Have you been having these often?" asked quietly, worried that this was an ongoing series of nightmares instead of just one tonight.

This was ridiculous; he was seventeen - almost an adult - and here he was, seeking comfort in the arms of his teacher like some child. Part of him hated it, while the other half told him to accept the consolation as it was being offered. The caressing of his hair eased some of the built up anxiety, ceasing the shaking of his shoulders and stuttering of his breath for the moment.

Kurt wanted to point out that there would be no possibility of Charles knowing what would happen in the future, but he decided against it and further hid his face in the other mutant's shoulder when Charles' head rested against his own. There was a split second where an image darted through his mind: his tiny arms clutching to Margali's legs, face buried into her side as she gently stroked his hair and whispered sweet words to calm him.

He clung to Charles in the same manner, afraid to let go and fall back into the painful nightmare, although he knew he was awake. His thoughts drifted to his roommate, wondering if Peter was all right, if he had been frightened, if he would continue to share a room with him ...

They didn't linger long because once Charles spoke again, he cringed at the question then hesitantly pulled back to look at him from beneath his dual-toned bangs. No reason for him to lie, right? "... about three times a week."

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."

Something they can possibly discuss in the future, if Charles is willing enough to trust him with that sort of information. He has always done his best to be strong, but the memories that terrorize him, drive him to hide away in his teacher's arms like a frightened child - they are something he struggles with trying to work through. Most of the time, they do not bother him. Then, there are nights like these, where he wonders how he doesn't wake others with his struggling. Maybe Peter just sleeps that heavily and his cries are not as loud as he believes them to be?

The hand on his head was a small comfort that he didn't expect to calm him, yet it did, slowing his breathing to somewhat normal and easing the shaking of his body. "I-I know," he stammered, sighing heavily at his fumbling. He wanted peace, but part of him felt as if he didn't deserve it.

He made sure to hold Charles' gaze though, head nodding firmly to show he was serious, "I am willing to do whatever it takes."

Charles nodded, accepting that serious agreement, before he gently started to pull back from Kurt so his body would stop complaining about the somewhat painful position he was in. He didn't move any further away, only settling himself back into his chair and thinking over what would be the best way to handle this. Partway into his decision if tonight would be better or tomorrow, he had to creep a hand up to hide a yawn, then gave another nod.

"We could do this one of two ways. Peter's already asleep out in the lounge, so we have this room for now, or we could do this tomorrow when you've recovered from tonight's... episode. I would make sure you had a pass from your classes. Either way, it would involve returning to that dream, but not alone. It would be... similar to watching the television - you would be able to view the events without being a part of them. Not an easy fix, but something we can work on. Together."

When Charles began to pull away, the teleporter took the hint and slackened his grip, slowly withdrawing to sit back on his bed once more. He brought his hands up to scrub over his face, pushing his bi-colored bangs onto the top of his head, opening his eyes as wide as they could go then shutting them for the moment. If they tried tonight, it would offer him the possibility of falling asleep easier, assuming they'd accomplish what they set out to do, but he could hear the faint sound of Charles yawning and that made him pause to rethink his answer.

He rocked somewhat in his spot, shifting so he could sit with his legs crossed, hands splayed across his thighs. "Together," Kurt repeated, the edges of his lips lifting in the slightest smile. "As thrilled as I would be to try and do it as soon as possible, perhaps we should wait until you have gotten some sleep yourself? I would not want to interrupt your schedule, Professor."

Charles quickly dismissed that concern with a wave of his hand. "Don't worry about me. I've managed more on less." He could practically feel Hank giving him a dirty look from his sleep for that statement. Really, sleep came so erratically for so long now it had become the norm for him, but he managed it well enough. The occasional pains, the nightmares, the concern for his students... nights could be long, sometimes.

"It won't be easy," he warned quietly, giving Kurt a look to make sure the other was taking this seriously. "It means getting at the base of your fear and trying to dissolve it. It... also may involve me seeing things you otherwise might not have wanted to show me. I want you to be sure about this course of action before we take it and understand what it means. This isn't something to be done lightly, but... I think it would help you." Funny, in a sad sort of way, that Charles needed this as badly as Kurt but could not do it to himself.

[i am so, SO sorry for my slow. i've been battling this headcold thing for the past few days and have been doped up on a lot of medication. XD]

"That is not healthy, nor is it an excuse to not get some rest." For now, Kurt attempted his best Hank impression and narrowed his eyes at Charles, arms moving to tuck across his chest in a slightly defiant manner. If the telepath wasn't sleeping well, that needed to be remedied and focusing on his nightmares wouldn't help at all; he's younger, able to force himself to run on less sleep. Charles shouldn't have to suffer more insomnia for his sake.

At the mention of Charles seeing things that he might not want to be revealed, he lowered his gaze to the edge of the bed, eyebrows knitting together in contemplation. No, he was serious about this and was ready to do whatever it would take to rid himself of the terrors. "I want them to stop. If this is a way that will actually help me, then I am willing to try it. Besides," he stopped, reaching out to take hold of Charles' hand and give it a firm squeeze. "I trust you."

[Don't ever be sorry! Stop that! :) I just want you to feel better. I'm never in a rush; this past week has been very fun-busy so I was slow on tags anyway.]

Stop that. Charles gave his pupil a long look, almost unable to believe he was getting this from someone so young, and held up a hand. Really, really now. Still, the corner of his mouth lifted, unable to hold back his amusement. Excuse you! He wasn't some old man who couldn't handle a bit of missing sleep! (At least he certainly didn't feel old. ~~the timeline may disagree with that but none of that makes sense.~~)

"It's not about having an excuse not to rest. I enjoy my sleep, I'll have you know." When I manage to get it, he added to himself. The touch to his hand felt like a brief squeeze to his heart and he put his other hand over Kurt's. "The decision lies with you. If you want to try it now, I'm willing to work with you now. If you'd rather try to get some more rest and do this in the morning, I will." Not, in many respects, all that different from staying up with Jean to get her through the night. The power she held inside of her was incredible, stronger than his own in many aspects but also so dangerously uncontrolled. Things that still needed to be worked on.

[fdsjlk;gjfldsa okay! ffffff you are too sweet. ( ꈍ◡ꈍ ) i definitely feel better after taking as many medications as safely as possible. XD i'm glad you're having a good time, though!!]

Okay, so he's not the best at scolding people, but at least his pout is enough to amuse Charles. His scowl disintegrates though, giving way to a broad grin. He's not trying to say Charles is old or anything! Everyone needs sleep, no matter what their age; he just feels like ... Charles deserves it more than he does, at the moment. (~~Exactly, let's not try and make sense of it.~~)

"We all do, Professor. The body needs rest, sometimes in copious amounts." He turned to look toward the door, his smile broadening at the thought of Peter and how often he'd seen the speedster sleeping in - not including the few times he had woken him up to make sure he wouldn't be late for class. A quick shake of the head and he returned his gaze to the older man, biting the inside of his cheek in thought then huffing, "I suppose if we are both going to lose sleep tonight, we might as well be productive and try to do something about it, ja?" And perhaps, they could both get some relief from it.

[The good old 'keeping yourself drugged to the gills' method of cold fighting. Highly valued method. XD Just keep getting better and tag as you can! <3]

Peter also could be a lazy arse and tended to wait until the last second (sometiems literally) to get to class simply because he could still make it with two seconds to go.

Charles gave a small chuckle at that, then looked around the room once as he decided how best to actually go about this. Realistically, he would need to be in contact with Kurt while this happened, but this was a young man who, while he hadn't shown any issue in touch so far, he didn't want to push too far, either. Quickly he pieced together two possibilities that might work, one he knew his back would be less happy with but might be more mentally comfortable for Kurt and the other would leave them in relatively easy physical comfort.

"Then let's try this," he agreed, deciding to offer both suggestions together. "I need to keep in some form of contact with you during this, even when we are both in your mind. Either I can sit up there with you, my back to that wall and your head in my lap, or we can use some of these pillows and put you off the end of this bed, myself in this chair, and your head in my lap. Which would you prefer?"

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