Charles goes for a run in the CES at least once a day, and has been since Sara and the Witchblade repaired the damage to his spine. It's usually mostly for the same reasons anyone would go for a run - fresh air, keeping in shape, having something to do on an otherwise fairly monotonous prison ship - but on some days - the bad ones - Charles is in here running because he wants to forget.

He wants to forget feeling afraid, of feeling victimized and broken and helpless, and being able to run helps soothe that. He can turn his mind off and just focus on moving, of pushing himself until he's exhausted and shaky. On days like today, he pushes himself too hard and sometimes wonders if he's just being hypervigilant or trying to punish himself for something. Today in particular, he's really not sure.

It's not something he advertises or talks about, because he knows that it's not really healthy. He's got a degree in psychology, for god's sake. But it helps, and right now, he's swimming in bad memories and emotions he doesn't want to deal with, and the steady rhythm of forcing one foot in front of the other keeps him from thinking about all of it.

But today, it doesn't seem to be working the way he'd like it to. He's feeling more damaged and off balance, like Raven being here was suddenly prying the scabs and calluses off old wounds, or at least chafing at them so he was now more acutely aware of how this place had made him change. Sometimes he doesn't mind it - it's probably a good thing that he knows how to defend himself now - but today, he feels again like he's been forced to change into someone he doesn't recognize or particularly like, and he hates that this isn't something he can change. He can't undo what he'd been through. He was always going to carry it with him.

So he just keeps running, and if he's noticed the other presence, he's not acknowledging it.

Charles has more or less the exact same train of thought when he spots Alex and actually really registers that he's there. There's no question that he loves Alex - they're family, and Charles has thought of him as his son for a long time before he finally told him as much - but he saw what he and Raven had said to each other, and Charles can't deal with someone else's problems right now. He can't.

But he still stops, and abruptly realizes he probably shouldn't have. He's shaky and needs to shake his head briefly to stop from feeling dizzy. He tries to control his breathing, and fight past the sudden nausea, because while he'd run hard enough to make himself sick before, he really doesn't want to throw up in front of Alex.

"A while," he finally pants out. It's not so much of a lie: he really actually isn't sure at this point. "You?"

Charles shakes his head again, swiping his sweatshirt sleeve over his forehead. "I'm fine."

He doesn't start running again though, just takes steady breaths and tries to center himself. In a way, he's almost glad that he's completely out of breath. He doesn't know what else to say about why he's here, or how he feels about Raven being here, or what they'd talked about. He hates being reminded of what happened to him, and to Erik and Jean, and this helps.

That actually prompts a rush of affection for Alex, and the telepath manages a small smile. It's good, how he's looking out for him while knowing he doesn't want to talk and won't try forcing him to. There aren't words to express how much he appreciates that.

"I think I just need to sit down for a while," he acquiesces, even though he probably could keep going again, if he really forced himself. Walking would be easier.

But it's also half an invitation, because he can tell Alex hadn't wanted company either, but if he was changing his mind, he was more than willing to sit in silence and appreciate that even when things got complicated, they would stick by each other.

Charles feels more or less the same sensation, although he's less worried about Alex and more trying to reassure him that he's fine. Really. There are far less healthy ways to handle stress, and he'd rather be doing this than crawling into a bottle of scotch in the pub, or in his room.

He sits down heavily next to Alex and doesn't say anything else for a long time, just focused on getting his breathing back to normal and trying to think about something else. He's hurt, and he's angry, and he irrationally wishes things could just stop being so complicated, because it feels like this has just been one obstacle after another with no end in sight for far too long now.

He misses when things were easier.

But it helps, to remember that there have been some good things about all this, and Alex being here is certainly one of them. He'd seen what he'd said to Raven, and how he'd been just as upset and frustrated with her, and how she felt about them now, and how she didn't understand how they might have been hurt by her leaving and then coming here and telling them they were trying to hurt Erik, trying to make him into someone he wasn't against his will, and while he's not about to burst into tears and cry on Alex's shoulder, it's still good to know that there's someone else who knows how this feels. He'd been there after they'd left, and he knew how frustrating - how bad - those months after Cuba had been, and he'd stayed and stubbornly tried to help Charles adjust and stop being depressed. He'd tried to accept Erik back into his life, even though he had every reason not to, and while he's still not thrilled that he's here on the Barge, and apparently staying for who knows how long, Charles is taking the time to appreciate how truly intensely grateful he is that Alex is here right now.

"I'm glad you're here, Alex."

It feels so inadequate to just say it like that, but he extends a warm tendril of thought towards the other mutant. Telepathy expresses emotion better than words ever can, and again, it's good to know that he won't be shoved away for doing it.

It's a familiar sort of chaos, and Charles doesn't look at or touch anything. He's just there, on the edges of Alex's mind, and it's good, to remember that someone still trusts him.

After Cuba, it had been easy to let himself feel like he was alone. That with Raven gone, he didn't have any family left, and while he might not advertise it, or talk about it, or even think much about it, even to himself, he knew that's the only thing he'd ever wanted. People to look out and care for you, and always be there when things were difficult, and everything he hadn't had after his father had died and Raven had come into his life, and with her gone, so was all that.

Except it wasn't, and that was true here, too. He had Alex, and back home, they had Sean and Hank and Armando waiting for them, and here they had Jean, and people like Merlin and Barbara, and even Anya, as much as he found it strange to include her, sometimes. They weren't alone.

And he still has Erik, too. Assuming Erik wasn't about to have an epiphany about how terrible he was, which Charles liked to think he wouldn't. They'd been through too much together to take a massive step backwards like that.

It's comforting to remember, and he puts a hand on Alex's shoulder before deciding to hell with it and putting his arm around him, partly to give further reassurance, but also to get a little, even though he feels a little selfish for doing so. Which he knows is kind of silly, but that's how he operates.

Charles doesn't need him to be like Raven. He just needs him to be Alex, and so he holds on for as long as he'll let him, and pulls away with a reassuring pat on the back when Alex straightens.

If Alex wants to talk, he knows where to find him, and Charles is too wrapped up in his own complicated mess of emotion to be able to tell him he needs to get this out in the open before he explodes. He gets not wanting to talk, and he's not going to push him on it. God knows he doesn't even know where he would start.

So he just sits quietly, trying to focus on the positive and not on how this could get even worse.

"I know."

They'd been through worse things before, and they'd pulled themselves out of it. He had to just keep remembering that. Raven being here and hating him didn't change that he could walk again, Darwin was alive, and it hopefully didn't change that he and Erik did want the same thing.

They'd go home, and they'd build a better future so that kids like them didn't have to feel alone and afraid like they had, and things would never be perfect, but they'd make it work. They'd be okay.

He glances over at Alex.

"I'll will be, too."

He knows he's a mess right now, and he knows he's always going to be carrying around baggage from everything that happened, but he'll be okay. Alex probably doesn't need to be told that, but he wants him to know that he hasn't given up entirely.

Sometimes, he just doesn't really know how to take care of himself. When things hurt too badly, it's easier just to completely collapse in on himself, or ignore it until the pain fades a little and becomes easier to deal with. But he does know he has a support system, even when he feels alone and miserable, and he can't really explain how much that means to him.

He just gives Alex a small smile and a gentle telepathic brush of appreciation.

"I know."

"That's alright."

He's proud, really, that Alex can recognize that need to step back and take it. God knows he has a hard time reaching that same point of peace, although wanting to just withdraw from everything and not deal with it isn't exactly foreign to him.

"I'm fairly certain we all do."

Charles laughs, and it actually sounds - and feels - almost normal. "I suppose so. Until we wake up and realize we've turned into animals again."

That one had been especially interesting. Not that he was in any hurry to do it again.