"Hide me?" Erik retorted, Charles's visible fury making him prickle in return, despite the numb shock still seeping through him at the sight of Charles on his feet. "I don't need to hide, I didn't come here to— I didn't mean to come here at all, I was trying to get back—"

He stopped mid-sentence, as it struck him suddenly that this Charles might not know about the Nexus— that this might be an alternate world like the one Mystique had come from, similar to his own but distinctly not. Certainly this was a vision of Charles he could never have imagined: unshaven and messy, exhaustion and resentment oozing from him, hanging palpable in the air.

"I don't know how to explain this in a way that makes sense," Erik said, schooling his voice to a level of calm he didn't at all feel. Hesitant, but knowing there was no easier way to get Charles on board with helping him find a way back to the hotel, he gestured at his head. "You should just— just look." He couldn't meet Charles's eyes. "It's easier than talking."

Overriding the urge to acknowledge his own hypocrisy, it occurred to him then to wonder why Charles hadn't done just that already. Whatever had turned him into this disheveled shadow of his former self, Erik was at a loss to imagine anything that could make Charles shy about using his powers.