They weren’t supposed to get this close to the firefight.

Charles kept her near him, tucked slightly behind the team, his hand hovering near her shoulder so he could guide her without pushing. She wasn’t a child anymore, and she hated being treated like one. But this mission was dangerous, and he refused to leave her alone at the mansion where she’d only spiral with worry.

The team moved in — Logan charging forward, Ororo calling thunder, Scott firing controlled blasts — and Charles stayed back, maintaining mental control over the situation.

Then a shot rang out. Sharp. Too close.

Charles felt her fear spike before he heard the sound she made.

A small, strangled gasp— followed by a scream that ripped the air apart.

He turned just in time to see her collapse, hands clutching her leg as blood soaked through her pants. The bullet had hit clean through — not lethal, but deep, raw, agonizing.

“NO!” Charles’s voice broke, the calm façade shattering instantly.

She curled forward on the ground, shaking, trying to hold in the sobs but failing. Pain rolled through her in waves so strong Charles felt them telepathically, each one like a spike driven into his own chest.

Logan was the first to reach her, dropping to his knees beside her.

“Kid— kid, look at me,” Logan urged, hands hovering, unsure where to touch without hurting her worse. “Breathe. Breathe through it.”

“I—it hurts—” she cried out, voice cracking, breath hitching.

“I know,” Logan said, voice rough with a fear he rarely let anyone hear. “I know it does. Stay with me.”

Charles landed beside them, hands trembling as he reached for her face. “I’m here, sweetheart. I’m right here.”

She grabbed onto him instantly, desperate, fingers curling into the front of his jacket like she was drowning and he was the only thing keeping her afloat.

Charles brushed her hair back with shaking hands. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

Her breaths came in jagged, broken pulls. “I don’t— I don’t wanna die—”

“You won’t,” he said firmly, forehead pressed to hers. “You won’t. I promise.”

Around them, the team formed a protective ring — Storm blocking any further fire, Scott keeping enemies at bay, Hank already preparing medical supplies.

But Charles barely noticed anything except her.

The pain. The terror. Her blood on his hands.

Logan slid his arms under her gently. “We gotta move her, Chuck. She needs Hank right now.”

She whimpered, clinging tighter to Charles. “Dad— don’t leave me—”

“I’m not leaving.” His voice shook. “I’m with you every second.”

Together, he and Logan lifted her — her face pressed against Charles’s shoulder, tears soaking into his shirt as she cried from the pain, from the shock, from the fear she’d tried so hard to pretend she was too tough to feel.

Charles whispered into her hair as they moved, the words breaking each time they left his throat:

“You’re okay. You’re safe. I’m here. I’m here.”

She didn’t let go of him until they reached the jet, and even then, only because he promised — out loud, telepathically, and with every frantic beat of his heart — that he wouldn’t leave her side.

Not for a moment.

Not ever.