I'll Stop The Whole World From Turning Into A Monster (and eating us alive)
You were my conscience, so silent now you're like water
Their lives feel like two separate, distinct periods now: before Cuba, and after. Sean likes to think that nothing has changed, but it has, irrevocably so. The mansion is quieter now, two more rooms empty. Sometimes on the way back from flying, Sean catches the Professor sitting in one of them, fingers ghosting over the possessions that Raven and Erik have left behind. Most of the things they left are the things they couldn’t afford to take when they hastily packed their things before the rest of them could return. Sean knows that if either Hank or Alex had caught Raven and Erik in the mansion they wouldn’t have hesitated in trying to rip their once allies, friends, throats out. Both of them are angry. Sean is too, but mainly he’s just sad.
It’s lonely being in the mansion. Hank spends most of his time in the lab now, making detailed plans to reconstruct Cerebro in the underground bunker and generally avoiding anything that will cast a reflection. When he thinks everyone else is asleep he creeps out of his lab and into the grounds. Every few nights Sean can hear him howl. It’s the most raw and agonising sound Sean has ever heard. Hank misses Raven, Sean knows that, but he hates her too. He seems to be constantly conflicted, unable to forgive her but unable to forget. It pretty much sucks.
Alex isn’t much better. He acts like he’s back in solitary confinement; either holed up in the bunker or locked up in his room. They haven’t spoken in weeks because talking to Alex now is like talking to a pillow, only a pillow is more enthusiastic. Against his better judgement, Sean has left Alex to his own devices. He’s too tired to even try. Without talking about it Sean knows how Alex feels. Alex already lost one family. He didn’t need to lose another one. Distancing himself just seems like a better option than becoming attached, safer.
The worst thing is seeing the change in the Professor. The confident, optimistic and charismatic man is still there somewhere. He tries his best to be strong, the shadow of a smile stretched tight across his face when his children are present but he projects loudly in his sleep. Most nights Sean wakes up with tears rolling down his cheeks, his lungs gasping for air and an all-consuming grief threatening to drown him. It’s not his own grief though, because the remnants of his dreams are haunted by satellite dishes, chess matches and Erik’s guarded face framed by a metal helmet. Afterwards he throws up in the bathroom and tries to silence his thoughts so that the Professor won’t hear them and realise what he’s done.
Sean tries though. He makes dinner every night and does his rounds, taking food into the lab for Hank, the library for the Professor and a plate up to Alex because he knows none of them will even consider eating if he doesn’t shove food in their faces. When he gets back to the kitchen he eyes his own plate suspiciously before throwing it in the bin and then proceeds to wash the dishes that have been left to accumulate in the sink. He wipes down the counters, cleans out the fridge, and does the laundry. When he catches the Professor sleeping in the library, he grabs a thick quilt from one of the spare bedrooms and places it over him, making sure it doesn’t get trapped in his wheels. If Hank is still awake he tries to coax him from the lab and makes sure that Alex has fallen into fitful sleep, before goes to bed himself.
Sometimes though, when it’s been a particularly emotional day he flies, escapes. Usually, its one of the days when he notices Hank’s distraught expression if he accidentally looks in the mirror, feline eyes hopeless and lost. Or when he walks back to his bedroom and hears Alex’s suppressed sobs. Or when a wave of nostalgia and sadness hits him, and he realises that the Professor is in his head, reliving the sensations of what it’s like to walk. Or when he sees Erik and Raven on TV, threatening violence, their eyes colder than he remembers and filled with hate.
It’s one of those days when he grabs his suit, heads for the roof and jumps. His screams carry him out of the grounds, into the more secluded woodland areas and he lands inelegantly. The branches of one unyielding tree snag the flesh of his cheek as his feet find the floor. Hot blood gushes from the wound but he ignores it. He needs release. His lungs expand, air rushing in. He lets out the loudest, bloodcurdling scream he can manage and lets all the pain and betrayal he tries so hard to suppress consume him. The birds nested in the trees around him squawk and disperse but Sean doesn’t care. He’s used to being alone by now.
He screams until his throat feels raw, and the trees are ripped bare of their leaves. His knees are weak and unstable as he staggers through the thicket. He’s too tired to fly.
He makes it back to the mansion by nightfall. When he steps inside the hall, he can see the soft glow of the fire coming from the library. Inside his head he hears the soft tentative sound of the Professor’s voice, Sean, is everything alright?
Quickly, he composes his thoughts into something of a mental smile, trying to project a cheerfulness that he doesn’t feel. I’m fine Professor, don’t worry about me.
I don't even know what brought on this angst fest. I think I'll turn it into some sort of series... :) Oh and italics at top are Paramore lyrics
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