Behind Blue Eyes: Section 1
Behind Blue Eyes
Section 1 ~ Section 2 ~ Section 3 ~ Section 4 ~ Section 5 ~ Master Post
Stopping Shaw was harder than Charles had anticipated. As his mind rushed into the cracks that Erik had shattered in the telepathic void, he sound he only had a bare instant to stop Shaw before he turned the loss of his helmet into an excuse to blow the beach to kingdom come. He poured his powers over Shaw's mind, stopping him from moving any limb more than a hair's breadth, painfully aware that if Shaw managed to move, he would force all of his stored energy into escape.
Even though he was distracted, he still saw through Shaw's horrified eyes that Erik had taken the shielding helmet and placed it on his own head. He hadn't even realized his physical body had yelled until out of the corner of his real eyes, he saw Raven shrink back. He almost turned to comfort her, but as his attention split for that moment, he felt Shaw's mind surge and batter at his control. With neither the time nor the concentration to focus on anything other than the task at hand, Charles closed his ears to the sounds around him and focused on keeping Shaw pinned down.
In his mind's eye, Charles could see the coin coming towards him, and he couldn’t stop it. As powerful of a telepath he might be, he couldn’t affect the world outside of someone's brain. But if he released his hold on Shaw, he would move just enough to let loose his entire nuclear payload all over the beach. And more importantly, right in Erik’s face.
His powers couldn’t sense Erik, even though Shaw could see him. For all Charles' telepathic power, that could be a shaking, crying, murderous statue bearing down on him. He could see that Erik's mouth was moving, but with all of his mind focused on keeping Shaw still and non-nuclear, Charles couldn’t make out the words.
"Don't do this, Erik!" he yelled, his control so tenuous that he could not allow Shaw to even murmur his cries. It was like holding back the flood with his fingertips. And the coin drew ever closer.
The moment the coin pierced Shaw's skin, Charles almost vomited. The pain was so intense that he could hear himself screaming, though the screams sounded like they were coming from miles away. Wave of dizzying pain filled his head so quickly that he almost lost control. The glimmer of Erik, staring, crying, hurting him/Shaw was the only thing keeping him aware. At least, at first.
Charles's mind tried to flee as the pain lanced through it. His fingertips dug into his temple, trying to hold everything together as another sliver of Shaw's brain was carved away. The coin passed through, leaving only an uncomfortable pressure, but the experience did not become more pleasant. As Shaw died, his vision faded to black, and Charles fell with him, feeling the darkness eat away at his mind's eye, his own consciousness sending the panic signals to his body that he could easily follow the madman into death.
Flashes of memory, of the thousands of people Shaw had seen in his life, flooded Charles’ mind. All the pain, the pleasure, the plans and people filled Charles, and he was swept away. Instead of his own life flashing before his eyes, he saw Shaw's, and all of the horrible things the man had done that went with it.
Charles didn't even feel himself hit the floor.
The last fully formed thought that Shaw pushed into the shaking telepath was an image of Erik as a small boy. Charles knew then that Erik was more than a project to the now dying man, perhaps even more than a son. All of the twisted games of power and domination, but also affection and wonderment filled him, and Charles realized his own heart wasn't the only one broken by Erik's coin trick.
But in the end, the thought that was left as Charles lay, momentarily paralyzed on the ruined floor of the plane, was the sick, almost sexual, satisfaction that Shaw felt that his brightest student was taking up his torch. Knowing that even in death Shaw had somehow won, was almost too much for Charles to bear.
The part of Charles' mind that controlled his projections had had enough. As Shaw's last bit of satisfaction caused Charles' groin to tighten in an unwanted physical echo, a corner of his mind rebelled. It pulled back completely, as if since it was unable to separate himself from the echo of Shaw’s dying thoughts Shaw, its only option was shutting down. As it snapped back, Charles felt his mind's eye close, and his consciousness fade as he passed out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Erik fell to his knees as the coin clattered out the back of Shaw's head. The helmet, a barrier between him and Charles, felt impossibly heavy as he allowed the sobs of pain to rip out of him. He had done it. He had done it at last. His mother was avenged.
As he stared at Shaw (or as he was still known in his nightmares, the doctor Klaus Schmidt) he waited for some sense of relief. He had been honest when he told Charles that he did not expect to find peace in the death of this man, but he had expected to feel anything at all. Perhaps it was this helmet. It kept other thoughts out; maybe, he thought wildly, it was keeping his own thoughts trapped. With shaking hands, he slipped the helmet off.
"Charles?" he said, his usually strong voice quavering in what was left of the reflective room. The helmet felt heavy in his hands, but his mind was silent. No one there. That was worrying. More than Erik felt it should be.
Erik dragged himself up to his feet, and stood there for a moment to gain his bearings. He had to leave this submarine, get back to Charles and the kids, to keep moving. If something was wrong, then he needed to do something now. Because he knew if he stopped, he was not sure he was going to be able to keep going.
Erik dragged Shaw’s body with him, to show the other mutants what he had done. To show that it was over. As he reached out with his metal sense, he found himself reaching farther than he ever had before. It was as if some mental barrier had been pushed away during his struggle with Shaw, and a distance that once was overwhelmingly far was suddenly within him reach. He was lost in the awe of it for a moment, until he realized what he was sensing with his new distance. All those metal guns on all those metal ships were swerving, no longer pointing at each other, but moving to point at the beach. A wild thought of showing the navies that Shaw was dead, that they had nothing to fear surged in him. But as quickly as it occurred to him, Erik swept the idea aside.
It wasn't just Shaw the humans feared. It was mutants. All mutants.
Slipping the helmet back on, Erik knew what he had to do. He had to inspire his fellow mutants to fight back, or they would all be destroyed. Pushing Shaw’s body out in front of him, he straightened himself up. He could be the leader his people needed. To lead these children, he needed to not feel like a lost one himself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Charles didn't know how long he laid on the floor of the plane. It felt like years, lost in the shadowy mess that was the remains of Shaw's mind.
The first thing he registered was Moira shaking him, telling him that Erik was exiting the sub and that Shaw was dead. Shaking his head to try and clear it, Charles dragged himself upright, and stood in the crash-created doorway of the plane.
Erik was speaking, but the words just weren't penetrating the fog of Charles' mind. Something about guns, and hatred, and that Charles should prove him wrong. He could feel his students looking to him, their thoughts a jumble of fear and confusion. He could not pick out a single thread among them to really understand what was happening. Trying to calm his mind, Charles turned himself away from them and pushed his mind's eye to the water.
For the second time that day, Charles nearly vomited onto the sand. The generals were going to do it. They were going to make sure Shaw was dead, and that there were no witnesses to how close each side had come to nuclear war. But even as he pushed against those terrified, military minds, Charles could feel the ghost of Shaw touching his thoughts, pushing him. He felt himself becoming excited at these pathetic human's fears, and at the thought that with a brush of his mind, he could escalate that fear beyond comprehension.
Charles broke away from that horrible, destructive though to find Erik's eyes, staring at him from under that strangely familiar, yet damnably frustrating helmet. His helmet.
"Well, Charles?" asked Erik, his voice penetrating the sick feeling that was rising in Charles.
Before he could respond, the all of the ships, as if they were a single destructive force, fired at once.
Almost effortlessly, Erik raised his hands, and caught the hundreds of missiles in midair, letting their rockets burn out at a safe distance. Charles felt the part of him that was being pervaded by Shaw rejoice as Erik turned those missiles around and held them, ready.
"You told me that we have it in us to be the better men, Erik," said Charles, focusing his mind on his friend. "Don't do this."
Before he could respond, Charles reached out, and with a gentle hand, touched Erik's shaking, powerful shoulder. Which was really where everything went wrong.
As Charles stood there, Shaw's personality, his memories, his mind pushed itself to the forefront, flooding Charles. Instead of whatever calming dribble that he had intended to say, to try and persuade Erik, he was now no longer even aware that the only thing that came out of his mouth was screaming.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Erik was confident he was doing everything right, until the moment Charles collapsed on the beach, clutching his head and screaming about the darkness, in German no less. In Erik’s panic, a half dozen missiles dropped and exploded, filling the air with a watery mist.
In that moment, many things happened at once. Shaw's teleporter grabbed his comrades and disappeared, leaving only Moira and the students remaining with him and Charles on the beach. Moira had already drawn her gun, aiming it unmistakably at Erik. Finally shocked into action, Raven dragged the other students with her to check on Charles, dodging Erik's outstretched arm as they knelt in. As Raven grabbed onto Charles, his screams turned into a panicked litany of German pleas.
"Maybe you want to put that gun down, human," said Erik, starting to sweat as he reasserted his control over the remaining missiles, letting them hover in the air.
"I can't let you kill those men, Erik," replied Moira, fear and anger in her eyes. "I'm just as angry as you are that they fired, but if you go through with this, neither country will stop hunting you. And you'll be just as wrong as them."
"Then what do you suggest we do? Sit here and wait for them to shoot again?"
"Explode the missiles in midair," growled Hank, looking around at the situation. "With that intensive explosion, their equipment won't be able to figure out what happened. Or better yet, explode them in the water, and use the force to disguise our exit from the beach. By the time they figure out what happened, we'll be long gone. If they can figure out what happened at all."
"You expect us to run like cowards, after saving the world from Shaw’s plans?" said Erik, the missiles shaking with his anger.
"He expects us to protect each other," spat Raven, as she stroked Charles' hair and glared up at Erik. "In case you didn't notice, we have a problem on our hands. Unless murdering those soldiers is more important than helping Charles, I suggest you listen."
Erik looked at Charles, his face slicked with sweat, his hysterical babbling become less and less coherent by the moment, and then back out at the ships. These men had tried to kill him for his help. He would not forget it. But the children were right.
Turning to Hank, he narrowed his eyes in concentration and began to move the missiles again. "Since you have the plan," said Erik, starting the first missile exploding high in the air. "Tell me where to put them. Then tell us how we'll escape."
"Way ahead of you," said Hank, pushing his thick fingers through his fur. "I think I have an idea."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Five hours later, Erik was sitting across the coffee table from Moira, in the living room of a thinly walled rental cabin. Alex, Sean and Hank had all crashed out in the large bedroom in the back, while Raven had carried the unconscious Charles into the front bedroom and locked the door. There was a small attic bed that Moira would claim once she had wound down enough to be able to sleep, leaving Erik the floral couch he was sitting on to rest his weary head.
It had been surprising to Erik how quickly Hank pulled a plan together once the group had decided to run. Hank directed Erik to dance the missiles in the air, giving the group as long and as loud of a diversion as possible. By the time Erik had finished, Hank had put together an outboard motor to attach to an emergency raft from the plane, and Alex and Sean had made a proper mess of the rest of the beach. For all intents and purposes, it would be nearly impossible for anyone to tell that they had fled.
The trip across the water was nerve wracking, every moment filled with the terror that a particularly zealous and observant solider would spot their escape, and they would have to defend themselves. While Charles had stopped screaming, his mental absence was almost another physical presence on the raft, sitting right next to every person on the boat.
To call the conversation strained would have been an understatement.
When they neared the beach, Moira crawled back to Hank, and pointed off into the distance.
"My parents vacationed here when I was a kid," she yelled over the sound of the motor. "There are a bunch of cabins up the coast. With the panic in Cuba, I bet they still have some rooms open. It will give us a place to get some rest, while we plan our next move."
Which brought them to Pleasant Pines Rental Village, too exhausted to do much more than bolt down a pile of quickly made sandwiches and try to get some rest. Even after they got more or less settled in, conversation was still haunted by the telepath unconscious in the front bedroom. The three male students milled around a bit before they succumbed to both the tension and their exhaustion. As the minutes passed, the noise from the room quieted into silence. Moira sat in a hard wooden chair, across from the floral couch, staring intently at the bedroom door. Neither Raven nor Charles had emerged since they had checked in.
Moira looked over at Erik, only to be surprised that he was staring back at her. The glimpse of barely restrained mix of anger and frustration frightened her, but through a force of will, she did not let her discomfort show on her face.
"How safe are we?" asked Erik, his deep voice nearly growling, rough and tight with angry weariness. "Is there anywhere that your people can't find us?"
"No one but me knows the location of the mansion," replied Moira, meeting his intense gaze without a quaver in her voice. "It would be the safest place to return to. Other than that, no one either on the ground or back at base has any reason to know where we are, so for the time being, I think we’re safe."
"It would be wisest to move in small groups," said Erik, breaking the intensity of his brooding glare by looking towards the boys’ room in back. "Hank is going to be a problem."
"I should be able to sneak him north," said Moira. "It won’t be easy, but he'll be able to help. He's a bright young man."
"That he is."
"Alex and Sean should be no problem, and Raven…"
"We're dancing around the elephant in the room," said Erik, turning back to look Moira in the eye. "What are we going to do about Charles?"
"I imagine you'll forgive me if I ask you to leave me behind," said a surprise voice from the door of the front bedroom. As the door opened, out walked a haggard looking, exhausted Charles.
In one movement, Erik and Moira stood up and rushed forward. Charles walked a step towards them, still shaking, and held up a hand to forestall them before they got too close. He face was drawn, tired, but determined.
"I'm sorry to let you down, my friends," said Charles, not quite making eye contact with either Moira or Erik. "But I’ll be in no condition to travel for a couple of days. You will all have to make it back on your own."
"What happened, Charles?" asked Moira, her arms crossed over her chest to keep herself from surging forward. "And why would we leave?"
"I…can't talk about it," said Charles, his eyes flickering up to Erik, and then back down. His voice was unsteady, and strangely hesitant for someone who was normally a confidant speaker. "But I am going to be less than useless until I can get myself back together. And frankly, none of you can be any help to me in this.""
"Whatever you need, my friend," said Erik, regarding Charles with a measured look. "I'm sure you will let us know if there’s anything we can do."
"Of course," said Charles, uncharacteristic relief in his voice as he turned to leave the room, almost as if he was pleased to be rid of them. "I'll keep Raven with me. Hopefully, we’ll only be a couple of days behind you."
"Charles," said Moira, stepping towards the obviously weak man, visibly upset as he pulled back from her. "We need your help in figuring out what to do next!"
"I'm sure you can come up with a workable plan without me," replied Charles, his tone shifting from exhausted and skittish to harsh and biting. "Without going into details that you do not need to know, you lot will just be a drain on me in my current state. And to be honest, it will be hard enough getting through tonight with you around. I must take my leave. If you'll excuse me?"
Without another word, Charles turned and walked back into the room, locking the door behind him and leaving Erik and Moira standing at loose ends.
"That was…," Moira trailed off, walking back towards the front room, gripping the back of the chair she had been sitting on. "I mean, I'm glad he's awake, but…"
"I'm sure he's just tired," said Erik, still looking at the door. Pulling his eyes away with visible effort, he looked at Moira with some kindness. "Perhaps he has the best plan. We should get some rest."
"Aren't you the least bit concerned?" asked Moira, turning towards Erik, anger burning in her eyes. "I know today has been hard, but Charles has never hidden himself away before. He doesn't sound like the man I know."
"Maybe he's not hiding," said Erik, his voice reasonable and calm. "Maybe he's just trying to keep everyone safe. In any case, nothing can be done about it tonight."
Moira closed her eyes momentarily, and then let out a significant sigh. Without meeting Erik's eyes again, she turned to go to bed.
"You may be right," said Moira, heading towards the final unclaimed bedroom. "Perhaps this will all make more sense in the morning. Goodnight, Erik."
"Goodnight."
Erik listened as Moira's footsteps faded into the darkened cabin. As she dissapeared, the false veneer of confidence that Erik had tried to raise was swept away. Laying back on the couch, Erik attempted to take his own advice. But as he lay there, the conversation with Charles rolled around in his head. As he allowed his eyes to close, Erik felt the weight of the day crash down around him. Shaw was dead, and Charles wasn't there. Erik felt more lost than he had in years, and there was no safe harbor in sight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Moira emerged from her room in the morning, Alex, Sean and Hank were all sitting in the living room, faces solemn and haggard. In the kitchen was a pile of baked goods, paper plates, and cartons of juice. As she walked in to the main area, Hank perked up and stood to greet her.
"Erik is out doing some recon," said Hank, gesturing to the spread of food. "He’s already been out for supplies, and decided to walk to the train station to get today's schedule so we can plan our routes. He told us to let you sleep until he got back."
"Did he tell you about Charles?"
"Yes," said Alex, still looking at his hands. "But he didn't need to. Charles came out and told us to head out as soon as possible, because we would just be a burden to his recovery."
"It wasn't that bad, Alex," muttered Sean, rubbing his arms unconsciously. "He just seems…"
"Tired?" finished Moira, her eyes dark. "Yeah, he told us the same last night."
"We should give him the space he needs," said Hank, at rubbing the soft fur on the back of his hands. "He said he's going through something that we can't understand.”
No one had any good response to that, so they lingered in silence, all of them trying not to look back at Charles' door. It was good for the collective mood that Erik picked that moment to walk in, his arms filled with clothes.
"These should help," said Erik, unceremoniously dumping the clothes on the floor. Reaching down, he picked up an oversized trench coat and handed it to Hank. "While I would normally not encourage you to hide yourself, I feel this may aid your travels."
"Where did you find all this?" asked Moira, as the boys dug into the rest of the assortment of overcoats, shirts, and trousers.
"Nowhere around here," said Erik, reaching over to grab a roll from the counter. "And no place that will miss them in the long run. A local theater was doing some laundry, and I borrowed a few things off the line."
"You STOLE them?"
"If you need to fix it, we can send them a check from New York," said Erik, in a dismissive tone. "The address is sewn into the labels. However, I think we'll all feel better when we have a familiar roof under out heads. Speaking of which, here."
Out from his back pocket, Erik pulled out four train tickets. Two left for New York in an hour, and the other two left for South Carolina later in the afternoon, with transfers to New Jersey.
"There should get you back within easy distance of the mansion," continues Erik, leaning against the counter. "They leave at staggered intervals, so that we aren't moving in one large group. Or if you rather, they can be refunded, and you can figure out another way to get north."
"What about you?" asked Hank, looking down at the ticket.
"I'm not going back just yet," said Erik, looking out the window at the path outside. "I want to make a sweep for the other mutants who fled from the beach. If I can get some useful information in the next couple of days, then I'll meet you in New York. Otherwise, I'll be a little longer, hopefully tracking some leads down."
The boys took the tickets, and stared at them wordlessly, as if grateful that something about these crazy couple of days made sense. Only Moira looked unconvinced.
"Are you sure this is a good plan?" she asked. "If the information is so important, maybe you shouldn't be here alone."
"I think it's more important you use your skills in getting our home base secure," said Erik, ignoring Moira's unspoken questions. "Between you and Hank, you'll be able to rebuild the damage, especially with Alex and Sean to help you out."
Moira gave Erik a sharp look, which he returned with a quirked eyebrow. Erik picked up a glass and brought it to his lips, and stared stoically ahead. She looked at him, and then at the boys sitting with their tickets. Closing her eyes for a moment, she took a deep breath. When she opened them again, she turned away from Erik and addressed the rest of the room.
"We should pack up and get moving, boys," said Moira. As she hurried past, Alex and Sean leapt to their feet and rushed to the back room with a handful of clothes each. Hank lingered, his eyes on the locked bedroom door.
"Yes?" asked Erik, taking a sip of juice.
"What about Raven?" asked Hank, his voice hushed, concern plain in his eyes. "I know she's sticking around to help Charles, but are you sure she's going to be ok?"
Erik patted Hank on the shoulder, his expression softening.
"Don't worry, old boy," said Erik, setting things down. "I haven't forgotten about her. You have my word, I'll make sure she gets back in one piece."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Erik watched from a park bench as Alex and Sean boarded their train to South Carolina. He sighed to himself, spinning a US quarter over his thumb. With the last of the kids on their way back to the mansion, it was time to figure out what was really going on.
It took him a little less than a half hour to return to the cabin, just as the light was beginning to soften into evening. He looked up at the cabin, too large now for its two remaining occupants, and took a deep breath. Cracking his neck to try and relieve the tension that was building in his shoulders, Erik let the breath go. It was time.
Stepping heavily on the front porch to shake the grit off his shoes, Erik fumbled loudly at the door for a moment longer than he needed to, and walked in. Standing at the counter, with his hands filled with pastries, was Charles, a panicked look in his eyes. Erik strode in and shut the door behind him. Within the time span of a few heartbeats, he closed the distance between himself and Charles with great loping steps.
"Er-r-rik!" stuttered Charles, his eyes wild with surprise. "What are you…"
He was interrupted as Erik swept him up in an embrace, claiming his mouth in an unexpected kiss.
Charles tensed up, tried to pull away, but Erik pressed him against the counter, his mouth devouring the shorter man's with increasing heat. Between one heart beat and the next, Charles relaxed into the kiss, his hands gripping the fabric of Erik's shirt. Erik broke away, but kept his mouth close to Charles' as his whispered:
"It's hard to know how someone kisses, isn't it Raven?"
Charles-Raven broke away, shifting back into her blue-form. Fury made her eyes shine bright as she glared up at Erik.
"How did you know?"
"You almost had me fooled, I will admit," said Erik, allowing some distance between them. "Even though you didn't react to the thoughts that I was focusing at you, it stands to reason that if Charles was in serious trouble, he might not be able to either. It was actually the lack of a second set of footsteps from the room last night that gave you away. You may look like Charles, you step much lighter than him in the dark."
Raven went back to the counter and grabbed the food she had dropped when Erik had come in. In the long moments that she took gathering the pastries, she gathered her wits as well, and when she turned back to Erik, her eyes were guarded.
"It's not safe for you to be here," she said, looking him straight in the face. "But as long as you are here, my guess is I'm not going to get rid of you. And you probably want know what’s going on."
"That would be a bit of an understatement," said Erik, walking past Raven, towards the back bedroom. Raven stopped him, her arm flying out to grab his arm. Erik paused, and slowly looked up her arm to her face, his own expression blanking with a slowly mounting fury.
"Erik," said Raven, meeting his eyes with firm resolve. "Please. He's just over-extended himself. If you go in there without knowing what Charles is capable of…” She trailed off.
"What will happen?" asked Erik, sharply. To his surprise, frustrated tears fell down Raven's cheeks.
"You could die."
Next Section
Section 1 ~ Section 2 ~ Section 3 ~ Section 4 ~ Section 5 ~ Master Post
Stopping Shaw was harder than Charles had anticipated. As his mind rushed into the cracks that Erik had shattered in the telepathic void, he sound he only had a bare instant to stop Shaw before he turned the loss of his helmet into an excuse to blow the beach to kingdom come. He poured his powers over Shaw's mind, stopping him from moving any limb more than a hair's breadth, painfully aware that if Shaw managed to move, he would force all of his stored energy into escape.
Even though he was distracted, he still saw through Shaw's horrified eyes that Erik had taken the shielding helmet and placed it on his own head. He hadn't even realized his physical body had yelled until out of the corner of his real eyes, he saw Raven shrink back. He almost turned to comfort her, but as his attention split for that moment, he felt Shaw's mind surge and batter at his control. With neither the time nor the concentration to focus on anything other than the task at hand, Charles closed his ears to the sounds around him and focused on keeping Shaw pinned down.
In his mind's eye, Charles could see the coin coming towards him, and he couldn’t stop it. As powerful of a telepath he might be, he couldn’t affect the world outside of someone's brain. But if he released his hold on Shaw, he would move just enough to let loose his entire nuclear payload all over the beach. And more importantly, right in Erik’s face.
His powers couldn’t sense Erik, even though Shaw could see him. For all Charles' telepathic power, that could be a shaking, crying, murderous statue bearing down on him. He could see that Erik's mouth was moving, but with all of his mind focused on keeping Shaw still and non-nuclear, Charles couldn’t make out the words.
"Don't do this, Erik!" he yelled, his control so tenuous that he could not allow Shaw to even murmur his cries. It was like holding back the flood with his fingertips. And the coin drew ever closer.
The moment the coin pierced Shaw's skin, Charles almost vomited. The pain was so intense that he could hear himself screaming, though the screams sounded like they were coming from miles away. Wave of dizzying pain filled his head so quickly that he almost lost control. The glimmer of Erik, staring, crying, hurting him/Shaw was the only thing keeping him aware. At least, at first.
Charles's mind tried to flee as the pain lanced through it. His fingertips dug into his temple, trying to hold everything together as another sliver of Shaw's brain was carved away. The coin passed through, leaving only an uncomfortable pressure, but the experience did not become more pleasant. As Shaw died, his vision faded to black, and Charles fell with him, feeling the darkness eat away at his mind's eye, his own consciousness sending the panic signals to his body that he could easily follow the madman into death.
Flashes of memory, of the thousands of people Shaw had seen in his life, flooded Charles’ mind. All the pain, the pleasure, the plans and people filled Charles, and he was swept away. Instead of his own life flashing before his eyes, he saw Shaw's, and all of the horrible things the man had done that went with it.
Charles didn't even feel himself hit the floor.
The last fully formed thought that Shaw pushed into the shaking telepath was an image of Erik as a small boy. Charles knew then that Erik was more than a project to the now dying man, perhaps even more than a son. All of the twisted games of power and domination, but also affection and wonderment filled him, and Charles realized his own heart wasn't the only one broken by Erik's coin trick.
But in the end, the thought that was left as Charles lay, momentarily paralyzed on the ruined floor of the plane, was the sick, almost sexual, satisfaction that Shaw felt that his brightest student was taking up his torch. Knowing that even in death Shaw had somehow won, was almost too much for Charles to bear.
The part of Charles' mind that controlled his projections had had enough. As Shaw's last bit of satisfaction caused Charles' groin to tighten in an unwanted physical echo, a corner of his mind rebelled. It pulled back completely, as if since it was unable to separate himself from the echo of Shaw’s dying thoughts Shaw, its only option was shutting down. As it snapped back, Charles felt his mind's eye close, and his consciousness fade as he passed out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Erik fell to his knees as the coin clattered out the back of Shaw's head. The helmet, a barrier between him and Charles, felt impossibly heavy as he allowed the sobs of pain to rip out of him. He had done it. He had done it at last. His mother was avenged.
As he stared at Shaw (or as he was still known in his nightmares, the doctor Klaus Schmidt) he waited for some sense of relief. He had been honest when he told Charles that he did not expect to find peace in the death of this man, but he had expected to feel anything at all. Perhaps it was this helmet. It kept other thoughts out; maybe, he thought wildly, it was keeping his own thoughts trapped. With shaking hands, he slipped the helmet off.
"Charles?" he said, his usually strong voice quavering in what was left of the reflective room. The helmet felt heavy in his hands, but his mind was silent. No one there. That was worrying. More than Erik felt it should be.
Erik dragged himself up to his feet, and stood there for a moment to gain his bearings. He had to leave this submarine, get back to Charles and the kids, to keep moving. If something was wrong, then he needed to do something now. Because he knew if he stopped, he was not sure he was going to be able to keep going.
Erik dragged Shaw’s body with him, to show the other mutants what he had done. To show that it was over. As he reached out with his metal sense, he found himself reaching farther than he ever had before. It was as if some mental barrier had been pushed away during his struggle with Shaw, and a distance that once was overwhelmingly far was suddenly within him reach. He was lost in the awe of it for a moment, until he realized what he was sensing with his new distance. All those metal guns on all those metal ships were swerving, no longer pointing at each other, but moving to point at the beach. A wild thought of showing the navies that Shaw was dead, that they had nothing to fear surged in him. But as quickly as it occurred to him, Erik swept the idea aside.
It wasn't just Shaw the humans feared. It was mutants. All mutants.
Slipping the helmet back on, Erik knew what he had to do. He had to inspire his fellow mutants to fight back, or they would all be destroyed. Pushing Shaw’s body out in front of him, he straightened himself up. He could be the leader his people needed. To lead these children, he needed to not feel like a lost one himself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Charles didn't know how long he laid on the floor of the plane. It felt like years, lost in the shadowy mess that was the remains of Shaw's mind.
The first thing he registered was Moira shaking him, telling him that Erik was exiting the sub and that Shaw was dead. Shaking his head to try and clear it, Charles dragged himself upright, and stood in the crash-created doorway of the plane.
Erik was speaking, but the words just weren't penetrating the fog of Charles' mind. Something about guns, and hatred, and that Charles should prove him wrong. He could feel his students looking to him, their thoughts a jumble of fear and confusion. He could not pick out a single thread among them to really understand what was happening. Trying to calm his mind, Charles turned himself away from them and pushed his mind's eye to the water.
For the second time that day, Charles nearly vomited onto the sand. The generals were going to do it. They were going to make sure Shaw was dead, and that there were no witnesses to how close each side had come to nuclear war. But even as he pushed against those terrified, military minds, Charles could feel the ghost of Shaw touching his thoughts, pushing him. He felt himself becoming excited at these pathetic human's fears, and at the thought that with a brush of his mind, he could escalate that fear beyond comprehension.
Charles broke away from that horrible, destructive though to find Erik's eyes, staring at him from under that strangely familiar, yet damnably frustrating helmet. His helmet.
"Well, Charles?" asked Erik, his voice penetrating the sick feeling that was rising in Charles.
Before he could respond, the all of the ships, as if they were a single destructive force, fired at once.
Almost effortlessly, Erik raised his hands, and caught the hundreds of missiles in midair, letting their rockets burn out at a safe distance. Charles felt the part of him that was being pervaded by Shaw rejoice as Erik turned those missiles around and held them, ready.
"You told me that we have it in us to be the better men, Erik," said Charles, focusing his mind on his friend. "Don't do this."
Before he could respond, Charles reached out, and with a gentle hand, touched Erik's shaking, powerful shoulder. Which was really where everything went wrong.
As Charles stood there, Shaw's personality, his memories, his mind pushed itself to the forefront, flooding Charles. Instead of whatever calming dribble that he had intended to say, to try and persuade Erik, he was now no longer even aware that the only thing that came out of his mouth was screaming.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Erik was confident he was doing everything right, until the moment Charles collapsed on the beach, clutching his head and screaming about the darkness, in German no less. In Erik’s panic, a half dozen missiles dropped and exploded, filling the air with a watery mist.
In that moment, many things happened at once. Shaw's teleporter grabbed his comrades and disappeared, leaving only Moira and the students remaining with him and Charles on the beach. Moira had already drawn her gun, aiming it unmistakably at Erik. Finally shocked into action, Raven dragged the other students with her to check on Charles, dodging Erik's outstretched arm as they knelt in. As Raven grabbed onto Charles, his screams turned into a panicked litany of German pleas.
"Maybe you want to put that gun down, human," said Erik, starting to sweat as he reasserted his control over the remaining missiles, letting them hover in the air.
"I can't let you kill those men, Erik," replied Moira, fear and anger in her eyes. "I'm just as angry as you are that they fired, but if you go through with this, neither country will stop hunting you. And you'll be just as wrong as them."
"Then what do you suggest we do? Sit here and wait for them to shoot again?"
"Explode the missiles in midair," growled Hank, looking around at the situation. "With that intensive explosion, their equipment won't be able to figure out what happened. Or better yet, explode them in the water, and use the force to disguise our exit from the beach. By the time they figure out what happened, we'll be long gone. If they can figure out what happened at all."
"You expect us to run like cowards, after saving the world from Shaw’s plans?" said Erik, the missiles shaking with his anger.
"He expects us to protect each other," spat Raven, as she stroked Charles' hair and glared up at Erik. "In case you didn't notice, we have a problem on our hands. Unless murdering those soldiers is more important than helping Charles, I suggest you listen."
Erik looked at Charles, his face slicked with sweat, his hysterical babbling become less and less coherent by the moment, and then back out at the ships. These men had tried to kill him for his help. He would not forget it. But the children were right.
Turning to Hank, he narrowed his eyes in concentration and began to move the missiles again. "Since you have the plan," said Erik, starting the first missile exploding high in the air. "Tell me where to put them. Then tell us how we'll escape."
"Way ahead of you," said Hank, pushing his thick fingers through his fur. "I think I have an idea."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Five hours later, Erik was sitting across the coffee table from Moira, in the living room of a thinly walled rental cabin. Alex, Sean and Hank had all crashed out in the large bedroom in the back, while Raven had carried the unconscious Charles into the front bedroom and locked the door. There was a small attic bed that Moira would claim once she had wound down enough to be able to sleep, leaving Erik the floral couch he was sitting on to rest his weary head.
It had been surprising to Erik how quickly Hank pulled a plan together once the group had decided to run. Hank directed Erik to dance the missiles in the air, giving the group as long and as loud of a diversion as possible. By the time Erik had finished, Hank had put together an outboard motor to attach to an emergency raft from the plane, and Alex and Sean had made a proper mess of the rest of the beach. For all intents and purposes, it would be nearly impossible for anyone to tell that they had fled.
The trip across the water was nerve wracking, every moment filled with the terror that a particularly zealous and observant solider would spot their escape, and they would have to defend themselves. While Charles had stopped screaming, his mental absence was almost another physical presence on the raft, sitting right next to every person on the boat.
To call the conversation strained would have been an understatement.
When they neared the beach, Moira crawled back to Hank, and pointed off into the distance.
"My parents vacationed here when I was a kid," she yelled over the sound of the motor. "There are a bunch of cabins up the coast. With the panic in Cuba, I bet they still have some rooms open. It will give us a place to get some rest, while we plan our next move."
Which brought them to Pleasant Pines Rental Village, too exhausted to do much more than bolt down a pile of quickly made sandwiches and try to get some rest. Even after they got more or less settled in, conversation was still haunted by the telepath unconscious in the front bedroom. The three male students milled around a bit before they succumbed to both the tension and their exhaustion. As the minutes passed, the noise from the room quieted into silence. Moira sat in a hard wooden chair, across from the floral couch, staring intently at the bedroom door. Neither Raven nor Charles had emerged since they had checked in.
Moira looked over at Erik, only to be surprised that he was staring back at her. The glimpse of barely restrained mix of anger and frustration frightened her, but through a force of will, she did not let her discomfort show on her face.
"How safe are we?" asked Erik, his deep voice nearly growling, rough and tight with angry weariness. "Is there anywhere that your people can't find us?"
"No one but me knows the location of the mansion," replied Moira, meeting his intense gaze without a quaver in her voice. "It would be the safest place to return to. Other than that, no one either on the ground or back at base has any reason to know where we are, so for the time being, I think we’re safe."
"It would be wisest to move in small groups," said Erik, breaking the intensity of his brooding glare by looking towards the boys’ room in back. "Hank is going to be a problem."
"I should be able to sneak him north," said Moira. "It won’t be easy, but he'll be able to help. He's a bright young man."
"That he is."
"Alex and Sean should be no problem, and Raven…"
"We're dancing around the elephant in the room," said Erik, turning back to look Moira in the eye. "What are we going to do about Charles?"
"I imagine you'll forgive me if I ask you to leave me behind," said a surprise voice from the door of the front bedroom. As the door opened, out walked a haggard looking, exhausted Charles.
In one movement, Erik and Moira stood up and rushed forward. Charles walked a step towards them, still shaking, and held up a hand to forestall them before they got too close. He face was drawn, tired, but determined.
"I'm sorry to let you down, my friends," said Charles, not quite making eye contact with either Moira or Erik. "But I’ll be in no condition to travel for a couple of days. You will all have to make it back on your own."
"What happened, Charles?" asked Moira, her arms crossed over her chest to keep herself from surging forward. "And why would we leave?"
"I…can't talk about it," said Charles, his eyes flickering up to Erik, and then back down. His voice was unsteady, and strangely hesitant for someone who was normally a confidant speaker. "But I am going to be less than useless until I can get myself back together. And frankly, none of you can be any help to me in this.""
"Whatever you need, my friend," said Erik, regarding Charles with a measured look. "I'm sure you will let us know if there’s anything we can do."
"Of course," said Charles, uncharacteristic relief in his voice as he turned to leave the room, almost as if he was pleased to be rid of them. "I'll keep Raven with me. Hopefully, we’ll only be a couple of days behind you."
"Charles," said Moira, stepping towards the obviously weak man, visibly upset as he pulled back from her. "We need your help in figuring out what to do next!"
"I'm sure you can come up with a workable plan without me," replied Charles, his tone shifting from exhausted and skittish to harsh and biting. "Without going into details that you do not need to know, you lot will just be a drain on me in my current state. And to be honest, it will be hard enough getting through tonight with you around. I must take my leave. If you'll excuse me?"
Without another word, Charles turned and walked back into the room, locking the door behind him and leaving Erik and Moira standing at loose ends.
"That was…," Moira trailed off, walking back towards the front room, gripping the back of the chair she had been sitting on. "I mean, I'm glad he's awake, but…"
"I'm sure he's just tired," said Erik, still looking at the door. Pulling his eyes away with visible effort, he looked at Moira with some kindness. "Perhaps he has the best plan. We should get some rest."
"Aren't you the least bit concerned?" asked Moira, turning towards Erik, anger burning in her eyes. "I know today has been hard, but Charles has never hidden himself away before. He doesn't sound like the man I know."
"Maybe he's not hiding," said Erik, his voice reasonable and calm. "Maybe he's just trying to keep everyone safe. In any case, nothing can be done about it tonight."
Moira closed her eyes momentarily, and then let out a significant sigh. Without meeting Erik's eyes again, she turned to go to bed.
"You may be right," said Moira, heading towards the final unclaimed bedroom. "Perhaps this will all make more sense in the morning. Goodnight, Erik."
"Goodnight."
Erik listened as Moira's footsteps faded into the darkened cabin. As she dissapeared, the false veneer of confidence that Erik had tried to raise was swept away. Laying back on the couch, Erik attempted to take his own advice. But as he lay there, the conversation with Charles rolled around in his head. As he allowed his eyes to close, Erik felt the weight of the day crash down around him. Shaw was dead, and Charles wasn't there. Erik felt more lost than he had in years, and there was no safe harbor in sight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Moira emerged from her room in the morning, Alex, Sean and Hank were all sitting in the living room, faces solemn and haggard. In the kitchen was a pile of baked goods, paper plates, and cartons of juice. As she walked in to the main area, Hank perked up and stood to greet her.
"Erik is out doing some recon," said Hank, gesturing to the spread of food. "He’s already been out for supplies, and decided to walk to the train station to get today's schedule so we can plan our routes. He told us to let you sleep until he got back."
"Did he tell you about Charles?"
"Yes," said Alex, still looking at his hands. "But he didn't need to. Charles came out and told us to head out as soon as possible, because we would just be a burden to his recovery."
"It wasn't that bad, Alex," muttered Sean, rubbing his arms unconsciously. "He just seems…"
"Tired?" finished Moira, her eyes dark. "Yeah, he told us the same last night."
"We should give him the space he needs," said Hank, at rubbing the soft fur on the back of his hands. "He said he's going through something that we can't understand.”
No one had any good response to that, so they lingered in silence, all of them trying not to look back at Charles' door. It was good for the collective mood that Erik picked that moment to walk in, his arms filled with clothes.
"These should help," said Erik, unceremoniously dumping the clothes on the floor. Reaching down, he picked up an oversized trench coat and handed it to Hank. "While I would normally not encourage you to hide yourself, I feel this may aid your travels."
"Where did you find all this?" asked Moira, as the boys dug into the rest of the assortment of overcoats, shirts, and trousers.
"Nowhere around here," said Erik, reaching over to grab a roll from the counter. "And no place that will miss them in the long run. A local theater was doing some laundry, and I borrowed a few things off the line."
"You STOLE them?"
"If you need to fix it, we can send them a check from New York," said Erik, in a dismissive tone. "The address is sewn into the labels. However, I think we'll all feel better when we have a familiar roof under out heads. Speaking of which, here."
Out from his back pocket, Erik pulled out four train tickets. Two left for New York in an hour, and the other two left for South Carolina later in the afternoon, with transfers to New Jersey.
"There should get you back within easy distance of the mansion," continues Erik, leaning against the counter. "They leave at staggered intervals, so that we aren't moving in one large group. Or if you rather, they can be refunded, and you can figure out another way to get north."
"What about you?" asked Hank, looking down at the ticket.
"I'm not going back just yet," said Erik, looking out the window at the path outside. "I want to make a sweep for the other mutants who fled from the beach. If I can get some useful information in the next couple of days, then I'll meet you in New York. Otherwise, I'll be a little longer, hopefully tracking some leads down."
The boys took the tickets, and stared at them wordlessly, as if grateful that something about these crazy couple of days made sense. Only Moira looked unconvinced.
"Are you sure this is a good plan?" she asked. "If the information is so important, maybe you shouldn't be here alone."
"I think it's more important you use your skills in getting our home base secure," said Erik, ignoring Moira's unspoken questions. "Between you and Hank, you'll be able to rebuild the damage, especially with Alex and Sean to help you out."
Moira gave Erik a sharp look, which he returned with a quirked eyebrow. Erik picked up a glass and brought it to his lips, and stared stoically ahead. She looked at him, and then at the boys sitting with their tickets. Closing her eyes for a moment, she took a deep breath. When she opened them again, she turned away from Erik and addressed the rest of the room.
"We should pack up and get moving, boys," said Moira. As she hurried past, Alex and Sean leapt to their feet and rushed to the back room with a handful of clothes each. Hank lingered, his eyes on the locked bedroom door.
"Yes?" asked Erik, taking a sip of juice.
"What about Raven?" asked Hank, his voice hushed, concern plain in his eyes. "I know she's sticking around to help Charles, but are you sure she's going to be ok?"
Erik patted Hank on the shoulder, his expression softening.
"Don't worry, old boy," said Erik, setting things down. "I haven't forgotten about her. You have my word, I'll make sure she gets back in one piece."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Erik watched from a park bench as Alex and Sean boarded their train to South Carolina. He sighed to himself, spinning a US quarter over his thumb. With the last of the kids on their way back to the mansion, it was time to figure out what was really going on.
It took him a little less than a half hour to return to the cabin, just as the light was beginning to soften into evening. He looked up at the cabin, too large now for its two remaining occupants, and took a deep breath. Cracking his neck to try and relieve the tension that was building in his shoulders, Erik let the breath go. It was time.
Stepping heavily on the front porch to shake the grit off his shoes, Erik fumbled loudly at the door for a moment longer than he needed to, and walked in. Standing at the counter, with his hands filled with pastries, was Charles, a panicked look in his eyes. Erik strode in and shut the door behind him. Within the time span of a few heartbeats, he closed the distance between himself and Charles with great loping steps.
"Er-r-rik!" stuttered Charles, his eyes wild with surprise. "What are you…"
He was interrupted as Erik swept him up in an embrace, claiming his mouth in an unexpected kiss.
Charles tensed up, tried to pull away, but Erik pressed him against the counter, his mouth devouring the shorter man's with increasing heat. Between one heart beat and the next, Charles relaxed into the kiss, his hands gripping the fabric of Erik's shirt. Erik broke away, but kept his mouth close to Charles' as his whispered:
"It's hard to know how someone kisses, isn't it Raven?"
Charles-Raven broke away, shifting back into her blue-form. Fury made her eyes shine bright as she glared up at Erik.
"How did you know?"
"You almost had me fooled, I will admit," said Erik, allowing some distance between them. "Even though you didn't react to the thoughts that I was focusing at you, it stands to reason that if Charles was in serious trouble, he might not be able to either. It was actually the lack of a second set of footsteps from the room last night that gave you away. You may look like Charles, you step much lighter than him in the dark."
Raven went back to the counter and grabbed the food she had dropped when Erik had come in. In the long moments that she took gathering the pastries, she gathered her wits as well, and when she turned back to Erik, her eyes were guarded.
"It's not safe for you to be here," she said, looking him straight in the face. "But as long as you are here, my guess is I'm not going to get rid of you. And you probably want know what’s going on."
"That would be a bit of an understatement," said Erik, walking past Raven, towards the back bedroom. Raven stopped him, her arm flying out to grab his arm. Erik paused, and slowly looked up her arm to her face, his own expression blanking with a slowly mounting fury.
"Erik," said Raven, meeting his eyes with firm resolve. "Please. He's just over-extended himself. If you go in there without knowing what Charles is capable of…” She trailed off.
"What will happen?" asked Erik, sharply. To his surprise, frustrated tears fell down Raven's cheeks.
"You could die."
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