Chapter Text
Tony is more than somewhat surprised, on one of his goodwill for the company and get-out-of-Pep's way tours, (factory location scouting tours as he usually calls them) to run into any friend of his, butt naked, scared out of his damn mind and running through the halls of Genosha's Palace, having just shot the King. Well. Most of his friends, anyway. Because neither Nat nor Clint would lose their clothes in the process and not be able to find them again, and Bruce, Thor and Cap aren't known for their assassinry. This friend? Yeah, running into him like this is pretty surprising.
Mostly because Charles is dead.
Also because Charles never looked like the assassin type to Tony during their time at college, whatever people say about killer eyes. But mostly, yeah, it's the dead thing. Still, Tony's been dead himself, although he was only dead for six months. Charles managed a year. Overachiever.
“How did you survive the crash?”
“I-I-I t-t-told you, T-t-tony.” Charles says, stubbornly, despite the fact that he can't or won't look Tony in the eye. “You have to go; it's not safe. There's g-g-going to be-”
“A power struggle, yeah.” Tony says, wrapping Charles in his suit jacket. Or trying to; Charles rears back as if Tony was... well, as if he was a threat. He tries not to feel hurt.
“Do not disrespect the suit, kid, it's Tom Ford.” Tony says, mock-chidingly. Only, it seems, not mock enough, because Charles goes green, and falls to the floor, shaking.
“Hey.” Tony says, gently. He can do gentle; just ask Cap about his first mobile phone, and it's sad fate. Charles honest to god whimpers as Tony squats down to be near him.
“Charles.” Tony says. “It's me. Your pal Anthony from Bio 101. Yeah? I'm not... I'm never going to hurt you.”
“Yes.” Charles whispers to his knees. “I... remember that. I do.”
“Can you tell me how... how you're not dead, yet?” Tony says, still gently, and refrains from asking about the goddamn bird tattoos. Charles is still shaking like a leaf.
“He.” Charles says, to his knees. “He, he, collected me. F-f-faked the, the d-d-death.”
“God.” Tony says. “Who? Why?” he bits off the what did they do to you? because one, it is obvious, some of it, and the rest can damn well wait.
“E-e-erik.” Charles says, after a pause. “Because, because... he w-w-wanted-”
“Ok.” Tony says, rapidly. “Ok, tell me the rest later. First we gotta get you out of here.”
“M-m-e?” Charles quavers, and Tony really has to try very hard not to lose his temper. It's obvious Charles has had his head messed with.
“Yeah, you. I'm not leaving without you, there's this ninety year old teenager who'd be very disappointed in me. Actually, I'd be disappointed in me too.” Tony says, and offers Charles his jacket. “Also, please put this on, you're making me feel cold just looking at you.”
Tony watches Charles fumble himself into the jacket and fail, badly, at getting the buttons fastened. He runs a hand through his hair, and starts thinking again. He's got to get Charles out of the Palace and, preferably onto the jet, without attracting attention. Tricky. It's not like he's got another suit he can wrap Charles up it and explain him away as an assistant.
Wait.
Another suit?
Tony begins to grin.
“Charles.” he says. “Have I ever talked to you about being Iron Man?” He reaches out, absently, to fasten up the jacket. Charles gazes up at him like a little kid in awe of Santa.
“No?” he says, carefully, like he's afraid it's a trick question.
“You've never wondered about how I get into the suit in a hurry?”
“No. Sorry.” Charles says again, shrinking into himself.
“Charles.” Tony says, grandly, and carefully not throwing an arm around his shoulders. “Let me show you.” Tony pulls off the bracelets he always, always wears now (thanks, Loki) and offers them to Charles. Charles looks at them, but does not touch, and it makes Tony's chest ache almost as bad as the palladium, to see how Charles' natural curiosity has been quenched, along with everything else.
“Can you put them on, prof?” he says, eyeing the scars and red bands of chafing that already encircle Charles' wrists.
Charles snaps them over his scars like he's afraid Tony will hurt him if he doesn't do what he says.
“Now, they... send a signal.” Tony says, rapidly adapting his speech to someone at a Cap-level comprehension of Tony's science genius. “And the suit, it locks on. It ought to fit you; you're still smaller than me, squirt.” Charles blinks at him. “So the suit will come flying and wrap you up in it, all safe and snug. No one will be able to see it's you in there, under all the metal and paint.
“Oh.” Charles breathes. “Oh.” His eyes are shining.
“I gotta deactivate the weaponry- Jarvis, can you deactivate-”
“Of course, sir.” says a tinny voice from Tony's pocket. “It's done.” Charles gapes, sadly puzzled by talking clothes. Is he ever in for a surprise, Tony thinks, and the suit arrives, whirling itself into place around Charles, who sighs like it's the best thing ever.
Tony has to admit, once again, that his suit pretty much is. the best thing ever.
“Ok?” Tony says, only a little worried. There aren't many people, apart from Rhodey, he'd trust with his stuff, but... Charles was one of them. Is one of them.
“That voice in your ear, that's Jarvis.” Tony says. “You remember Jarvis, right?” There's a dull clank, and Jarvis' voice says, as the suit helmet wobbles, slightly
“Mr Xavier just attempted to nod, sir.” Charles says nothing. Tony coughs.
“Right, Jarvis- pick up the other briefcase and follow my lead. If things get weird, fly him straight out to the Helicarrier. I'll take the jet.”
“Very good sir.” Jarvis says. Charles says something, quietly.
“What?”
“Mr Xavier is mostly saying the word “Thank you” repeatedly.” Jarvis says, as if he's the imperturbable AI he pretends to be.
“O...kay.” Tony says. “Let's do this.” They walk.
Already, there's something afoot. The Palace hums, and little troops of people trot back and forth. Tony eyes the security guards as if he is Tony Motherfucking Stark, which he kinda is, actually, except when Captain America can hear him, these days. One set of security people, near the doors, tries to stop him, which, yeah, no
“Just taking my suit out for a spin.” he says, and swaggers on, Jarvis walking the suit carrying Charles past them like he's not even there. Which he is not. Of course.
The trip to the airport is uneventful, apart from Jarvis' worrying report on Charles' vital signs. The man is either having a slow panic attack, or is reaching the end of his ability to cope, very fast. Tony texts Bruce, who replies that Jarvis alerted them all half an hour ago, and there's a medical kit waiting, and what kind of trouble has Tony got himself into now?. Tony doesn't reply. They'll be home soon enough