X-Men: First Class -- Right Out Of My Mind: Prologue
Chance Encounters of the Psycho-Kind (creative I know)
“Erik. I’m going to head into the town and collect Hank’s supplies.” Charles called after his friend as the older man walked down the corridor towards his room.
“Fine. But you could leave it until tomorrow.” Erik replied, his voice carrying just enough for Charles to hear it. Charles smiled though at the unspoken words that Erik thought ‘But you won’t because you’re stubborn like that.’
“You’re right, I won’t leave it Erik. And I didn’t read your mind, I heard your thoughts; there’s a difference.” Charles replied quickly as Erik spun round and fixed him with a glare. He smiled innocently when Erik rolled his eyes and entered his room, slamming the door rather loudly behind him. ‘Oops.’
Still smiling slightly Charles quietly made his way along the darkened corridors of his childhood home, castle really, not even having to consciously recall which way to go as he mentally reviewed what it was Hank needed. Truthfully he could leave it till the morning but he felt restless and his mind was too loud, there was too much going through everyone’s minds and though he didn’t read them intentionally he could still hear them. It was tiring and he was using the opportunity to collect Hanks’ supplies as an excuse to get some peace.
He exited the castle and considered taking one of the cars, walking or cycling. He didn’t feel like walking the distance to the town - and the distance back with what he was sure would be a number of heavy items - and so that also ruled out cycling. Car it was then.
He entered the garage attached to the south-side of the castle and decided he’d use the Jaguar Mark II, the racing green one, and he was delighted with himself when he started the engine. It roared to life with all the veracity of an energetic volcano and he grinned, a young boy again reliving the first time he’d ever sat inside the car with his father pointing out what not to touch - namely the clutch, the gears, the pedals and the steering wheel. Sighing sadly he pulled out of the garage and gradually gained speed as he drove along the long drive to the gates of the estate and pulled onto the quiet country road in the direction of the small town about two miles drive away.
He’d never reach the town.
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So the telepath hadn’t been there with the little kiddies, it was shame, and he didn’t have his own anymore, also a shame. Sebastian’s lip curled as he stared darkly at the wall opposite him. That wouldn’t do. He couldn’t find his own telepathic Emma, but he knew where the other one was; and he really wanted to meet him. Anyone who was strong enough to be a bother to him was worth meeting.
And training.
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..
Humming quietly to himself Charles relished the sound of the wind in the trees, it was so quiet out here. Almost silent when he compared it to the chaos going on inside the castle. Since the whole disaster that had been the CIA’s base everyone had been feeling tense, and he could see how, even with the short reprieves from the tension, everyone was becoming more and more worried, afraid, scared, terrified. It was heartbreaking for him to feel it all from them all the time but he couldn’t shut himself from them, couldn’t stop the thinking and the feeling and the knowing, because he had to know if they had any doubts, if they had any fears over their powers, if they had any issues with trust or esteem that could cause their premature deaths.
But sometimes even he needed a little peace. Didn’t everybody afterall?
He glanced at the speedometer and realised he was driving faster than was strictly allowed on a country road, but he found himself uncaring because he needed the speed, he needed the hear the sound of the wind in the trees - so different from the whispers in his mind. And it was because of the split-second interval between his eyes being on the speedometer and then moving back up to focus on the road that he missed the fast-moving creature streaking across the road. He started and instinctively turned the wheel, pressing on the brake-pedal as the car screeched and turned 180 before coming to a stop.
His heart beating loudly in his chest, his mind suddenly alert and more active than it had been in days, Charles blinked profusely and looked about himself trying to search out what he’d almost hit. He couldn’t find anything. It was like there hadn’t been anything there in the first place. His telepathic abilities reasserting themselves fully Charles slowly turned off the engine and climbed out of the car, expanding his telepathic field as he did so. He took a few steps away from the open door of his car and peered into the dark trees that lined the road.
There was sudden “crack!” behind him and he whipped about, his eyes wide and his heart drumming in his chest. Another “crack!” in the trees behind him had him spinning about again.
He swallowed thickly and called out, his voice as even as he could get it. “Whoever you are, you have no need to hide from me.” A part of his mind was screaming at him to calmly get back in the car and get the hell back to the castle, but another part was telling him not to just in case this unknown creature was threat. Of course, if it was a threat, then he was going to have a lot of trouble dealing with it on his own wasn’t he?
Another “crack!” directly behind him caused him to start to turn but before he managed to get a look at whatever it was, before he even focused his mind, a hand shot out and hit him square in the jaw with enough force to knock him to the ground. Hard.
He landed heavily on the tarmac ground, his head colliding painfully with the road, and he curled up instinctively into a ball. He began to feel the fuzzy pull of unconsciousness and the last thing Charles could clearly remember was the feel of something grabbing hold of him before it all went black.
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Awareness came to him slowly. It was like the dripping of a tap into a plugged sink. Eventually there were enough drips to constitute a layer of water deep enough to place a pound coin in.
Groaning quietly Charles sluggishly opened his eyes only to snap them shut again as bright lights blinded him. He turned his head to the side, away from the lights overhead, and tried again. Slowly opening his eyes until he could handle the light enough. His vision was blurred and he blinked to try and clear it up. It didn’t help as much as he’d hoped it would.
“Sorry about the headache. Azazel sometimes forgets his strength I think.” A voice rang out loudly, far too loudly, around him and he groaned again. It took him a few moments to realise that he recognised the voice, it was the same voice he’d heard in Erik’s memories when he’d dragged him from the water all those weeks ago.
Adrenalin suddenly flooded his system and Charles’ head snapped around to pierce Sebastian Shaw with a surprised, angered and determined stare. He was momentarily confused about the strange helmet on the man’s head until he tried to read his mind. Charles blinked and his eyes widened in surprise and fear as Shaw’s face broke out into a smile. “You’re quick aren’t you? Caught onto the fact you can’t get into my head fast.”
Charles didn’t speak as he stared at the man, the monster, that had caused Erik so much harm in the past. He tried to reach out for something before he realised he was restrained. And lying down on a metal slab. His suit-jacket and shirt were missing and from the cold air hitting the bottom of his feet he realised his socks and shoes were gone too.
“Don’t strain yourself. Those things are strong enough to restrain a juggernaut.” Shaw said as he moved closer to the bound Charles, that strange and sinister smile still present on his face. “You’re Charles Xavier right?” The question was obviously rhetorical as Shaw continued. “You obviously know who I am don’t you? Sebastian Shaw, though I used to go as Schmit but that was another time.” His eyes grew darker, more shadowed and evil for a moment before he continued. “You know I wanted you to have been at the CIA base when I went to visit your kiddies.”
“Leave them out of this.” Charles said as anger ran through his system suddenly, a protective type of anger. Shaw had threatened them, killed Darwin and he could have killed the others.
“If they don’t get in my way then I will.” Shaw replied arching an eyebrow as Charles struggled with the restraints. “Right now, my interest is with you Charlie-boy.”
Charles stopped struggling as he stared at Shaw. With that damned helmet on he couldn’t tell what the madman was thinking so he had to ask. “What do you mean?”
“I’m short a telepath.” Shaw replied simply. “You’re a telepath. And you’re a damn-sight stronger than my dear Emma too.”
“I’ll never help you destroy the world.” Charles snarled, as he resumed struggling against the restraints. He would not help this madman destroy the world. He would die first.
“Oh you will. Once you’re trained.” Shaw countered as he reached out and placed a hand on Charles’ exposed shoulder. “You will.” He added darkly as his palm began to heat up exponentially.
Charles gritted his teeth and tried to shrug off Shaw’s hand but the man gripped it harder and delivered a sudden burst of raw energy into his system that caused him to writhe on the table. He bit off a choked cry of agony and screwed his eyes shut, his mind running at a thousand miles an hour but thinking only of the pain in his shoulder, his entire body.
He snapped his eyes open suddenly when Shaw removed his hand and the pain abruptly vanished. Breathing hard, sweat beading on his forehead, Charles sent out a psychic call, hoping his friend would hear him. ‘Erik... help me...’
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Erik bolted upright in his bed, breathing heavily and staring into the semi-darkness. He blinked a couple of times and suddenly noticed that all the metal objects in the room were floating and moving about; a physical response to his emotions. He replaced the objects back in their normal places and ran a hand through his hair. He was covered in a sheen of cold sweat and he couldn’t help but shiver as the temperature of the room suddenly became aware to him.
Slipping out of bed he made his way over to the little en suite and turned on the light with his powers as he moved over to the sink and splashed some cold water on his face. He stared at his face in the mirror, studying the pale skin, the wide eyes and the sheer emotions swirling about in them. “It was a dream.” He whispered. “It was just a dream.” He repeated more strongly as he reached for a towel and dried his face. “Just a dream. Charles is fine.”
‘I hope.'