The moment Shaw's heart stopped beating, the ringing in Heather's ears ceased. The sudden, almost blaring silence had the girl swaying uneasily - the emptiness was almost louder and more unbearable than the noise. But that didn't stop the relief from rushing through her veins. Shaw was dead. The man who had killed Edie, who had tortured little Erik, was dead and gone. Maybe now both of them had the chance to move on - Edie from this life and Erik from his crippling vendetta.
But - Heather felt sick to her stomach after watching the life fade from Shaw's eyes. She wasn't kidding when she told him he deserved everything he got, but that didn't mean watching his death wasn't disturbing. Heather had seen ghosts, she'd seen dead bodies - but never had she seen a death, a very horrifying death she might add, occur before her very eyes.
The two stood there, frozen, their eyes stuck on the man's corpse, before Erik finally turned to face Heather. It took her a moment or two to rip her gaze away from the body - her thoughts full of relief, shock and a surprising amount of guilt - and when she faced the older man, her face was immediately smashed against a firm chest, arms coming to wrap around her waist tightly. It took her a few bit to react to that, but she hugged Erik back just as tightly, the relief outcoming all other emotions.
She may have had to witness a death, but at least it wasn't a friend.
The hug was quick, however, as Erik pulled away and looked down at her, saying, "We need to get back to the others." Heather nodded in agreement, and turned to move out of a large hole in the frame of the room - most likely caused by Erik pulling the pipes out of the walls. Sensing Erik wasn't behind her, she glanced back and asked, "Are you coming?"
Erik stood in the same spot, a hand in his pocket pulling out a small metal object - a coin? - and gave her a reassuring look. "I'll be right behind you. Go."
Heather hesitated, but nodded and continued on her way. The cut on the back of her head throbbed and she could feel a headache coming on as she ducked down through the hole and made her escape. Exiting the sub, she was nearly blinded by the sun - which did nothing for her increasing headache - and she held a hand out above her eyes, squinting at the group gathering on the beach as she waited. Less than ten seconds after she left the sub, Erik followed and together, the two hurried over. Thankfully, everyone was there and appeared well - even Shaw's mutants, though they were standing off to the side, looking a little out of place. Spotting Charles, Heather felt a rush of guilt and she couldn't stop herself from spewing apologies left and right.
"I'm sorry, Charles," Heather began, as they approached, "I know it wasn't a part of the plan, but - "
"It's fine," Charles assured her, a small smile on his face. He opened his mouth to continue, but the man paled and his eyes widened. "Charles?" Erik questioned in concern, but before they could do anything else, Charles turned away from them, looking out at the sea where the Russian and American ships were. "They're planning on attacking the beach," Charles whispered in horror.
All the mutants turned to look at him with their very own looks of terror, as Charles repeated louder, "They're planning on attacking the beach."
Moira didn't even hesitant a little as she rushed back to the remains of their jet - most likely to tell them to beach was clear. Heather tried to convince herself that Moira would be able to convince them, that they wouldn't have to worry about being under fire, but when Moira exited, a look of panic and helplessness on her pale face, Heather's stomach and hope dropped.
Not even a second later, a great number of loud booms! filled the air and everyone looked up just in time to see the missiles - so many missiles - flying straight at them. Panic-stricken, Heather could swear her heart stopped for a moment and she probably would have screamed if she wasn't completely and utterly frozen with fear.
Everything seemed to play in slow motion as, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Erik hold out his hand and -
The missiles stopped mid-air.
There was a collective sigh of relief, and Heather had a feeling like she needed to pass out. But no luck there, as the missiles in Erik's grasp slowly began to turn around - around to face the humans. No, she thought, the feeling of terror returning, no, he can't do this. "Erik, no," Heather mumbled, and Erik glanced at her and there was an apology there and no, no she wasn't going to let this happen, not after everything she went through for him.
"Erik, you are not Shaw," Heather pleaded, her voice cracking embarrassingly, "Don't be like him. Don't be like them. Be the better person. Don't do this, please."
There was a minute of intense silence, tension felt throughout the whole crowd, and Erik's eyebrows furrowed together and his jaw clutchened, almost like he was battling within himself. And after that minute, he looked over at Heather and she could see it in his eyes - he had come to a decision. But before Heather could panic or begin pleading again, Erik let out a shaky breath and yelled out, "Get down!"
Heather didn't need any other warning. She fell to her knees, covering her head with hands, but peeked up at the missiles through her arms and witnessed their explosion far above them, the loose metal falling onto them lightly. Heather stood up shakily, as the realization hit her. Erik had prevented war.
The red one glared at them all as he stepped closer to the other two. "You fools," he accused in a Russian accent, "The humans will never stop trying to kill us. You may have stopped war today, but tomorrow they will be back." He grabbed the suited one's hand, who in turn reached for the dark haired girl's. The girl pulled away as if burned and shook her head wildly. "No, no. I'm staying with them."
The suited one looked as if he wanted to protest, but the teleporter scoffed, "Have it your way," before the two disappeared into a puff of black smoke. The girl turned to look at the group anxiously, and Heather couldn't help but feel sorry for her. "I can understand why you wouldn't want me to join you, but - " The girl paused, sighing, "I was wrong. I admit that now. And - I'd join you, if it's still possible."
Charles responded before anyone really had the chance to process what had been said. "Of course, Angel, all mutants are welcome." Sean, Alex, and Moira all looked a little suspicious, but didn't protest. Heather ignored those looks, instead looking around at the smoking remains and asking, "Anyone else have any idea how we're going to get home?"
With no jet and no teleporter, the group was forced to make a three mile journey through a buggy, damp jungle in hopes of finding a place to stay until they were able to get in contact with someone with a plane home. The tiring walk did not do good things for the already exhausted group, and Heather desperately wanted out of the hot, dirty suit.
It had taken them longer than expected to get out and when they finally reached a city - Santiago de Cuba the signs read - it was already dark. "We'll stay in a hotel," Moira clarified, the exhaustion clear in her tone, "I'll - make some phones calls tomorrow." Walking through the dimly lit cobblestone streets and searching for an inn of sorts, Sean finally asked, "Wait, does anyone here even know how to speak Spanish?"
There was a collective second of panic, and before Heather could comment that she could speak the basics, Erik cleared his throat and spoke for the first time in nearly three hours, "I do." Heather glanced at him in surprise, but he didn't meet her gaze like he usually did. In fact, the man looked rather grim faced and - for some reason, Heather felt hurt as she looked back down to her feet.
When they reached an inn, Erik did all the talking, the fast conversation making it hard for Heather's tired mind to follow along. But she did notice how the woman at the desk was shrieking or freaking out over Hank's appearance, so it was clear Charles was doing some sort of mind trick. Erik approached them, holding out four room keys, and handed them carelessly to Moira, before going to lean against the wall. Heather simply ignored him, instead facing Moira as she assigned rooms.
"Charles, you go with Erik. Heather, you're with Raven," Raven gave her a small smile, "Hank, Alex and Sean, you three are together. Try not to kill each other. And Angel, you're with me." She passed the keys out, and everyone slowly made their way from the lobby to their rooms.
The room was small, Heather noticed upon entering, with only one bed, a dresser, a tiny bathroom, and a couch with a pull out bed. But she figured it would do for the night. Heather yawned and moved towards the bed, collapsing on top of the blanket, and to her surprise, completely passed out before her head even touched the pillow.
But the tiredness didn't drive the nightmares away.
Shaw.
Shaw was throwing a person - a human - at the glass walls.
Crack. Shatter. Crack. Shatter.
But not just anyone - it was Michael, her older brother. He was still dressed in his uniform, now stained dark with his blood, and he was begging, pleading with Shaw to stop, and Shaw looking back at him with a sickening smile, saying over and over, "Kill the humans, kill the humans."
Crack. Shatter. Crack. Shatter.
Heather kept crying out, but no noise came. She tried to run, tried to stop Shaw herself, but it was impossible to move. She kept trying, kept trying to alternate between stopping him and convincing herself it was all a dream.
Crack. Shatter. Crack. Shatter.
To her horror, it changed from Michael to Joey, his suit stained with the red liquid. His baby face cut up and bruised, his eyes pleading for it to end. And Heather screamed.