He nods at her questions, "More effective, an injection but so far, it wears off after a length of time. He hasn't been able to perfect it to where it would be permanent." It almost didn't bear thinking of, an injection that could permanently nullify all of mutant kind.
Charles knows where she's going with this, he'll give Hank all the blood samples he'll need. Perhaps they could come up with an antidote.
He finally smiles again, seeing his wheelchair like an old friend and starts scootching himself over on the bed, moving his legs with his hands. "Indeed," he agrees, thinking of Riata. "Some he blackmails to help, others he drugs." Charles sighs before levering himself from the bed to the chair. "I did try to talk to him. There's something very personal for him in all of this." Though what that might be, he's not sure yet.
There's a stray thought for a moment of when Riata healed his legs before Charles can put it away behind his mental barriers, away from Jean. He's been slipping a bit since his ordeal, unwilling to be as closed off due to being blocked for so long. His mind wants to be more open, not shut, and it probably will be for awhile.