This one is really sad. You are hereby warned. And I apologize in advance for how short this chapter is. There really wasn't a better way to chop it down.

Thanks to all of those who have read and reviewed! Your words are what keep me posting! :)

The Perks of Being a Telepath

Chapter 10: Guilt

Smoke. Pain. Fear. The smell of burning wood and the sharp scent of crushed greenery. The feeling of nothingness below his left kneecap.

Erik knew this wasn't his dream, but that didn't make it any less real or any less frightening. What made it worse was the he knew who's dream this was.

You're going to be okay. Alex, listen to me, you're going to be just fine. Just hold on. Help is coming.

It hurts, Professor.

Soft spoken, almost a whimper.

I know. But you're going to be okay. I promise.

Erik longed to wake up so he wouldn't have to bear witness to Alex's death, but he doubted he would be that fortunate.

Professor, c-could you tell my brother—

Hush, Alex. You're going to be just fine.

Erik heard the panic in Charles' voice, despite how hard the telepath tried to hide it.

Thank you, Professor.

For what?

For giving me the home I never had.

Everything went black.

Erik opened his eyes, unable to stop the lone tear that slid down his face.

He heard movement coming from next door—Charles' room—and knew that he wasn't the only one awake.

Footsteps crept down the hall, heading toward the side door that was a few feet away from Erik's room.

Without pausing to think about the fact that Charles might not want company, Erik threw his blankets off and followed Charles out the door.

The door creaked open as Erik pushed through it moments after Charles. The telepath didn't seem to be aware of someone following him as he made his way across the large, sloping lawn.

The lawn gave way to a copse of trees, where Erik almost lost Charles. He waited for a few moments, letting his ears adjust to the sounds of croaking frogs and chirping crickets. He caught Charles' footsteps cracking on a stick and immediately headed toward the sound.

Erik found Charles again in a small clearing. There was a long stretch of dirt, breaking the otherwise even grass.

Erik knew without reading the simple headstone that this was Alex's grave.

"Today was his birthday. He would have been twenty."

Charles' voice was hoarse and quiet. Erik barely heard him.

"Charles…"

He trailed off, realizing he had absolutely nothing to say.

"He stepped on a landmine."

"I know."

"I… I was practicing reaching people over a great distance. I felt every moment of it."

"I know."

Charles looked apologetic, but didn't say anything. Instead, he sat down in the grass, looking extremely young in his striped pajamas and lost expression.

Erik sat down next to him, ignoring the dampness of the grass and the fact that it was really, really cold outside.

"Alex—I—he was right."

Charles glanced at Erik and raised an eyebrow.

"About what?"

"It—he—could you read my mind?"

He couldn't put his thoughts into words.

Charles looked surprised by the request. Erik realized that outside of when he was heavily intoxicated and a few instances of accidental projection, Charles hadn't been in his mind once the entire time they had been together.

The thought made him sad and he wasn't quite sure why.

"If that's what you want."

Charles lifted his hand against his temple and closed his eyes.

Strong arms wrapping around his waist and yanking him backward, catching him by surprise. Anger at whoever the hell it was that let Shaw get away. Surprise and an overwhelming sensation of no longer being alone.

Sadness at the thought that this wouldn't last, that it was just too good to be true.

He was leaving, but then all of a sudden he wasn't, because of some ridiculous man in a black jacket and a pair of black pants and fingerless gloves who told him that he belonged there.

The bonds of friendship were being made as that same ridiculous man took him on a merry jaunt around America recruiting other mut ants and bringing the same surprisejoyhappinessnotalone feeling that Charles had brought to him.

Then there was the sharp pain of having it all taken away when Shaw attacked the CIA base while they were in Russia. Relief that the kids—save for Darwin and Angel—were all right.

Surprise at the sheer size of the mansion, and then even more surprise as, after a while, everything seemed to feel like home.

Then training, where he worked on increasing his power.

Then Charles, helping him more than he could put into words.

"There is more to you than you know."

Charles opened his eyes and stared at Erik in surprise. Erik met his gaze evenly, though he doubted his emotions were any more hidden than Charles'.

"Thank you, Erik."

"It's nothing that you didn't already know."

"But to see it from your eyes makes all the difference in the world."

Charles woke to a low, rumbling growl the next time he became conscious. Sweat clung to every pore of his skin, making him feel frozen and boiling at the same time.

Another growl sounded nearby, reminding him of why he woke in the first place. Shivering, Charles attempted to lift his head, barely stifling a cry of pain as white hot needles shot through his chest and sent black spots spiraling across his vision.

"Charles?"

Hank.

He couldn't speak and he could barely feel his telepathic abilities. This was, in a word, bad.

"Charles, can you hear me?"

Charles made a low grunt in affirmation, trying to quell the sudden nausea that welled up inside of him. He highly doubted Hank would appreciate being vomited on.

"What happened?"

"Shot."

And given telepathic inhibitors. Those bastards.

Erik really was beginning to rub off on him.

"Who shot you?"

"M-Mo—ra."

It was all he could manage without gasping for breath.

Hank moved into Charles' immediate line of sight, which, admittedly, didn't extend too far past the base of his nose without becoming blurred.

"Moira?"

Charles could feel Hank's confusion without his abilities, it was that powerful.

"Why, Charles?"

Charles closed his eyes, not sure of how to answer. The easiest answer was that he didn't know, but that wasn't entirely true.

She shot him because of what he had done to her. Because she was afraid of him and what he could do.

It hurt, to know that Erik's belief from so long ago—a lifetime—was true.

Charles settled for staying quiet. Hank seemed to understand.

"I'm sorry."

So was Charles.