Script here! There is an exclusive on the AragornXOC story in the tenth chapter of Knight in shining armor, if you're interested. IT is at the end, very clearly marked, so you don't have to read anything you don't want to, but I would appreciate some feedback on that or this story. To those of you who have followed and favorited this story, thank you very much, it is very much appreciated. And the next excerpt I do, will be the RumpleXOC and it will be in this one as a thank you.

On to the story!

Charles found her the next morning, cooking and cleaning in the kitchen. He gave her a few moments before he made a noise, in her mind. She paused for a moment before she grabbed what she wanted out of the pantry and walked in. "I'm sorry." He said. She stared at him curiously.

"There's nothing to be sorry for. You didn't do anything to me." Her voice sounded more mature than it had in all the time he'd known her. She sounded stronger, but there was a pain in her eyes that hadn't been there before. "There was only so much I could take, and you saw it all before I even knew what was going on. I'm sorry you had to see that."

"When you ran..." He tried, but failed to ask. "What were you running from?"

"Who.' He wanted to ask, but didn't have the courage. Had she realized on some level that he could see her?

She thought for a moment. Reluctantly. "The monsters. There was this massive behemoth that sported whips and..." He saw the picture. He didn't need the description. "When they were bored... They'd throw people in like he was a beast, an animal… and we were the food. They'd laugh and jeer like it was all so droll. My... My mind locked on it. I just... I didn't want to see it. I didn't want to hear it. I certainly didn't want it touching me." She shuddered.

It. Not him, for he was a man, but when one gets treated like an animal long enough, they start to act like one. It.

Just as she had once been an it.

He looked up at her, to see her watching him. "What?" He asked.

"You could have just gone in and seen for yourself."

"No, I think I'll work on distancing myself from... that... for a while."

He froze when he realized what he'd said. But one glance at her and her knowing smile was tugging at her own lips. If the pain hidden in her eyes and in her mind were any indication that she was upset with him, she let him ignore it. "Is that all you needed?" Her voice was kind, as always. Soft, bit of a lilt from her own British influence- not that he dared mention that to her.

"No. Would you mind coming with me for a moment?"

"But the-"

"The food can wait." He assured. Her curiosity interested, something that nearly always ended badly for her she'd noticed, But she let him lead the way, only to find that her entire group of friends were waiting for her.

She was lead to the top of the satellite dish, white domed beast of a thing. Her heart thudded as she rose them all up to the top of the whole thing. They trusted her enough to do that. Raven stayed with her on her little platform, as did Alex, but the rest of them got off and onto the little solid platform and started buckling him into the harness for his new suit prototype. How strange to think that they trusted her like this. She thought curiously, if they thought that perhaps she would run if they didn't seem like they were interested in her, or perhaps they felt some form of pity or shame. Their imaginations wild with their thoughts of what had happened.

Her shield was literally holding her together for most of her indentured servitude. She didn't know how to function without it anymore. But the feel of Raven's fingers running though her hair. Of Charles holding her hand... She wondered for a moment if perhaps they could just stay like this. All of them. Together. Just the briefest of moments.

And then Banshee was screaming. High alert as she followed him down, conscious enough to leave the other two on their own platform. She feared she wouldn't make it in time. But then he was screaming again, and this time, he picked back up, passing by her with a hoot and holler and soon they were flying together. Like they had done it all their lives as she surfed on the wind, suddenly taking everyone else with her. Hank did not seem to appreciate it.

Yes she thought, just for a moment, she would have this.

Charles watched her laze about for the first time in a long while. She was just floating high up in the entryway, right by the tinkling chandelier reading a book. Her leg was dangling off the side of her little shield hammock, rocking back and forth in a nonexistent wind. No one would touch her unless she wanted them to. In taking in the memories, she learned a lot about why she was the way she was. Why she never wanted anyone to feel abandoned or betrayed. She could never touch anyone. They couldn't touch her. Her mind took a moment to register certain items as non lethal. Why her shield was the way it was. And in learning that. He wondered if she might try something.

"Jenna?" He called, getting her attention. She focused in on the bloody towel covering his hand. "Could you give me a little help?"

"What do you expect me to do?"

"Well, you were wondering if you could project that shield of yours to deal with wound care..."

"You did not do this to yourself just -" She started to scold.

"No, no not at all. I simply slipped using a kitchen knife. Completely innocent." He assured. "No harm if you can't, just wondering if you could."

"I can try..." She thought. A fleeting thought of a double sided coin. She hoped he wasn't in pain, but she also hoped he was if he did cut himself on purpose and if she caught it, she'd take away his kitchen privileges. Ownership be damned.

Her thoughts wandered to their hands. Wondered just for the briefest seconds before turning her thoughts elsewhere. No. She would not think on that now. That would be for another time.

She concentrated for a moment. Her hand just millimeters away from his own, but the silvery hue that glistened upon her sin, while present, was rather relaxed. He remembered her saying that it equaled the force applied. Just how gently was she trying to touch him? Or was she trying not to? His own thoughts wondered if perhaps this meant she trusted him enough to let herself touch him, or perhaps for him to touch her. If only glancing.

A strange tingling sensation. Itching. Very itchy. Do not scratch. Do not move. He kept telling himself. In a second it was over, but it was mostly just a scab, pinking up a bit about the edges, like it was about a weak old? Certainly not in danger of bleeding out, but would certainly scar.

"That's a start." He smiled.

"No more kitchen." She said abruptly, matter of fact.

"What?" He seemed completely taken aback. Where was her proof? He certainly had not meant to cut himself with a rather sharp pairing knife. In fact, the only reason he'd been distracted was because... Well, he didn't want to get into that just yet.

"Stay. Out. Of that. Kitchen." She demanded. Getting into his space, right in front of his face. Which was actually more intimidating as she levitated before him, seemingly taller than she actually was- which unnerved him a little bit more if he was being honest.

"Why?" Her eyes were hard, warning, such a vibrant green.

"Because."

"It's my kitchen." He defended.

"Not anymore. It's mine. I cook in it and clean it. You don't. You wouldn't even know where to start. So Stay. Out."

He narrowed his eyes. She was hiding something from him. For the first time in his life, someone was hiding something from him and actually succeeding. She knew her mind well enough to force it down and out of the way where he couldn't reach it. He'd just get a grasp of it, and it would slip through his fingers because she'd let it slip through hers, like the title of a song she couldn't remember. And there were so many of those.

And for the first time, he realized that as he was learning about her, she was also learning about him. Learning how to guard herself from him, how his power worked. She was a clever one, but then she had to be given her background.

She grinned at him, flew up, way, way, up. And stayed there until she was well good and ready to get down. He was long gone by then and found himself rather curious as to what she could be hiding, torn severely between wanting to get it out of her and also just wanting him to keep it. It had been so long since he'd had a proper surprise.

There was a moment, a rare moment, of promise.

The afternoon entertainment was centered around the TV as an address came down from the president. The missiles were being sent over the embargo line to Cuba.

The apprehension was almost palpable. Jenna stood with Erik behind the couch, unwilling to not be near the door. No one said anything about it when she nearly fled the room, though Erik was the one to follow her out after warning everyone it would be a busy day tomorrow, so best get some sleep.

As he wondered where to find her, his thoughts wandered to Charles. What he'd seen, what glimpses he'd gleaned in the few seconds he'd been a mess on the floor. Were they really that bad? Charles had led a sheltered life. But he'd been into a lot of people's heads. Surely this was nothing worse than that. But then... Why wouldn't he have told him something? Anything? Why would he keep it to himself? Unless... Perhaps it was a betrayal of trust on his part. He knew he wouldn't appreciate someone spilling all his secrets. Especially a telepath. Of course, Charles was expected to see some things, the darkest deepest part of everyone's inner most demons, the kind of things one doesn't even confess to themselves. Had that door opened? Had that been the thing to... But then why would he stick so close to her after that?

He found her in her room. The door closed, but nothing to secure it once it was shut, to make sure no one opened it again. He hesitated a moment, before knocking.

There was no reply. He knocked again.

The door opened a crack and then she let it open a bit more. "How may I help you?" She mused, leaning on her own door frame, taking that option away from him.

"I was hoping I might be able to speak with you in private for a moment?"

She stepped outside of the room and shut the door behind her, locking it and sticking a paperclip just under the hinge. So even if someone was looking for it, they wouldn't see it straight off, might even miss it unless they actually leaned down to look at it. He'd remember that. Definitely remember that. She lead him down to the living room, now empty, and on to the kitchen and up the servants quarter stairs and down and down and down and all the way through another set of stairs that were dusty and never used any more. Two sets of foot prints could be seen here. One small, and the other were large. Man's... Alex's. Sean's feet being too small and Hank's being too large, especially now that he stopped hiding who he was. He detained from asking questions until she felt safe enough to have a private conversation.

As safe as one could be with a telepath on the prowl. He waited a moment, but no chuckle of amusement came, no matter how faint. So, Charles had been studying on his own. Interesting.

She lead him to a broom closet, covered in dust, he wondered if it had been used in the last twenty years. There were perhaps two people on this planet who surprised him. One was Shaw, finding out he was a mutant as well. The other, was Charles. Well, he could add one more to the list.

"We were sent here in punishment by Matron. No one could hear the screaming or the crying. She alone had the key." She said in response to his silent curiosity. She sat on a rather dusty box. It creaked a bit, but held her weight. Unsurprising, especially if she isn't really sitting on the box. A shimmer of silvery blue told him she wasn't. "What did you need?"

"The plan tomorrow," He started. "Do you know what you're doing?"

"Protecting." A glimmer in her eyes showed she wondered if this was a trick.

"You want to tell me why I should trust you around Shaw? Last time, he..." They both knew what he'd done.

She seemed to be thinking. He wondered if she was having a silent conversation with Charles. She hugged herself before nodding. "It was a fighting ring."

"Excuse me?"

"I met him at a fighting ring. Not him specifically, but... He was there. He was one of the patrons you knew you especially didn't want to know your secrets. Didn't want him coming anywhere near you. If he so much as smiled in your direction, you were dead. Or good as." She didn't look at him when she said this. Looked anywhere but at him. "I was the best. I know I'm the best because I not only survived, but I got away. My deepest regret is that I did not take anyone with me. Self preservation was a must. I could not risk them turning on me to save their own hide. I could not get my hopes that I'd actually make it depending on anyone else. I couldn't not think that any one else in there might be a rat. I wanted so much to just burn the place to the ground. But I couldn't. I let... I left them to rot. Early 1900's. I hope every one is dead now." She seemed very detached for just a moment. But then he could see the pain burn in her eyes. "I was in there for years. So many years. I'd hear his voice every now and then. Shaw. That maniac. He was a high price bidder. Liked to bet on me because he knew I would win. Because if I lost... But sometimes... It didn't matter if you won. They still treated you like dirt caught in the tread of their shoe." She looked at him now. Her eyes were hard. "But you just wanted to know what Charles saw to make him drop like a rock." Her accusation burned at him.

He looked down.

"I didn't have to tell you. Charles nearly convinced me not to. Not because neither of us trust you, but because you, above all else, can understand... what it means." She swallowed hard. "That's a lot to put on a person. Especially someone who's had their own brush with that... that monster." The way she said the word. She truly thought that monster was the worst thing to call someone. A monster. Because she knew the true definition of the word. She knew what it meant. How it felt to be called that. She knew everything there was to know about that word.

"So, why tell me?"

"Because of the same reason." She scuffed her shoe in the dust, creating little circles. He wondered how many times she'd been locked in here. Now that his focus could drift about the room. He was not shocked to see nail scratches in the wood of the door. He wondered if Charles would replace the door, or keep it there. Where was that key anyways? There certainly wasn't a matron anymore. 'Focus Erik.' Charles softly called.

He looked up to find she was looking up at him expectantly. Deciding he hadn't heard her, she repeated her inquiry. "Do you think you can trust me now?"