Chapter 29: The Trick to Flying

Moira and a tense Captain Kinkaid led Raven down the hall towards hotel room one-oh-three, aka the-cliched-covert-meeting-place. She had shifted into a fair-skinned, brunette version of her usual human guise that'd had a few of the others giving her thoughtful glances back at the mansion. No one had remarked upon it though. Well, other than Cain's oh-so-tactful: "Do you look like that on purpose?" Raven pushed such inconsequential thoughts aside as she followed Moira into the hotel room to meet the two government agents waiting inside.

Director Johnson himself was sitting in a bland, beige armchair against the window, facing the door. A younger, but somewhat familiar Agent stood to his right peering out the window at the city lights below. He turned to face them just as Raven began to puzzle over where exactly they'd met before.

"Agent MacTaggert, Captain." Johnson acknowledged.

"Sir," Captain Kinkaid replied, gesturing to Raven. "This is Raven Xavier. I believe you may have met once before."

Raven and Director Johnson eyed each other carefully, neither one deigning to speak.

"Well. We've met." The younger Agent offered, ignoring the tension that had filled the room. Raven's blue eyes flickered up to meet his and her stern expression relaxed upon recognition.

"At the Boston Hotel." Raven recalled. "You helped us look for Charles."

"Yes. Agent Parker." Agent Parker confirmed with a friendly smile. "I like what you've done with your hair. It's very-"

Johnson cleared his throat rather pointedly and Parker straightened his posture, looking ever so slightly miffed by the dismissal.

"Right, moving along." He muttered, beginning to sort through the papers in his briefcase.

"To be frank, Miss Xavier, when I heard that Lensherr had agreed to send a representative to consult with us, I wasn't expecting someone so young."

"Well, since we're being frank, Mr. Johnson. The last time we agreed to work with the CIA, we ended up staring down a cloud of Russian and American missiles on a foreign beach. It did not inspire a lot of trust in our government. This meeting is only happening because I manged to talk the Erik into allowing it at all. But if you're feeling too uncomfortable, we can still call it off." Raven countered smoothly. Knowing that she was 'channeling' me in order to put up her unreadable front fills me with immeasurable joy.

"I don't think that'll be necessary." Johnson replied, his tone approving. "We've already lost too many good people on this project to let it all fall apart now." He looked expectantly up at Parker.

"Yes..." Parker muttered for want of anything better to say as he set the two file folders from his bag on the bed. "We've got some new intel on Farouk's operation that we thought might interest you."

Raven picked up one of the files and looked through the various printouts inside, doing her best to give nothing away. "You think that this is where they may be keeping the kidnapped mutants?"

"A few of them. Unfortunately, it seems that the Shadow King himself has dropped off the radar, but I have a few agents working on it."

"Don't bother." Raven advised, closing the folder but not relinquishing it just yet.

"You know something that you're not sharing, Miss Xavier."

"It's Ms. Xavier, or Mystique if that's easier for you."

"You have eyes on the premises?" Moira asked, studying the other folder as she tried to play the peacekeeper between the two groups without seeming to do so.

"Since 8 am, Thursday." Parker confirmed.

"What do we know to expect."

"We've seen them shuffling a few mutant captives around the grounds. Nothing substantive on the abilities for the most part, accept a speedster who seems to be some kind of enforcer and two prisoners that they've been moving around a whole lot more than the others. One's a cajun man who appears to have some kind of concussive ability, and the other is a red headed woman in her mid thirties. Our people haven't witnessed her use any mutant ability themselves, but a few of Farouk's guy's were heard referring to her as 'the Augur'" Parker shrugged "So we're thinking that maybe she's got some type of foresight?"

"She calculates probabilities." Raven clarified.

"She's one of yours?" Johnson inquired.

Raven nodded. "Wanda, she's family. They're probably pushing her for everything she's got."

"How much does she know?"

Raven locked eyes with the Director, her eyes flashing an angry yellow before she regained composure. Instead of answering right away, she glanced over at Moira. The other woman drew in a deep breath and nodded.

"We need to get her out of there fast. She would never give up any information willingly, but they've got a psychotic telepath working with them. He'll just tear the information straight out of her mind once he realizes that she isn't going to talk." Raven admitted. "Speaking of which, if any of your guys come across an anachronistic English man with blood red eyes, they should get out of there immediately."

Everyone else in the room besides Moira was now staring incredulously at Raven.

"He calls himself Mr. Sinister, he's a Victorian, megalomaniac, psychopath who can read your thoughts and doesn't die. We've been trying to figure out a way to handle it, but it's sort of difficult when we're missing... people."

Johnson narrowed his eyes, studying Raven's face thoughtfully before he asked. "How many of you have been taken?"

Raven frowned down at the floor for a moment, looking torn, before she answered. "They've got Wanda, and Francis. He's a younger telepath who can momentarily turn into an energy form. Charles went missing two weeks ago, and t..." Raven paused to clear her throat, her eyes turning yellow once more as she said "They killed Marie."

Johnson leaned back in his seat, lost deep in thought as he considered the unsettling news. In his opinion, Charles Xavier was quite possibly their most valuable missing asset. After all any telepath held a high value when dealing in intelligence, and the fact that he was missing as well as yet another having fallen into the hands of the enemy was beyond bad news for the agency.

"We need to pull you in for-"

"Not happening."

"Ms. Xavier!"

"No. The agreement was that we would consult with you through a chosen representative. Me. You are not going to bring us all in so that you can use us again."

"With all due respect-"

"Really?"

"With all due respect, you need trained security. I understand that you want your freedom, but you aren't going to remain free for very long if you just isolate yourselves and let these terrorists pick you off one by one."

"You're not bringing us in." Raven restated with a tone of finality.

"What about an exchange?" Captain Kinkaid piped in from where he'd been leaning against the door. "A couple of volunteers from your side could come in and consult with us and I could go with another trusted agent to help safeguard the others in their place."

"We'll discuss it." Raven decided after a long pause.

"Fine. We're going to make a move on Farouk's hideout tomorrow morning. I would like to meet you again here, before we head out. You can have your decision for us by then." Johnson concluded. In the meantime, feel free to share our findings with the rest of the group."

Raven nodded and relaxed a little. "Thank you."

"I look forward to working with you." Johnson replied.


I turned to face the newest projection where he stood on the other side of the reinforced plexiglas wall, looking over the newest ghost from our past become future with a flippant air. I was actually getting a bit aggravated by Wanda's mental gymnastics, but I was hoping not to make a show of it.

"I've decided to consider this an improvement." I told 'Tony Stark'.

"I'm touched. Not really that great with kids so..."

This exchange was obnoxiously familiar. "Are you meant to annoy me out of her mind or does that just come naturally with your guise. Good boy-Loki was bad enough."

"It's natural. Comes with my irresistible charm, and unparalleled genius, which Reindeer Games would agree get's annoying-ish."

"Everyone would." I added quietly.

"Yeah, did you ever think of maybe listening for a change? Call it a teaching moment."

"And what was it that I was expected to learn from it?"

"Uh, the hidden knack to flying?" The projection quipped with Stark's smarmy grin.

I gave him a withering look.

"Now don't go all crazy-eyed on me, Charlie X. This cell is completely tantrum proof."

"Fully isolated, wrapped in your own patented Psionic Disruptive Technology. I know. We've done this bit." I drawled, disinterested. "Next your going to tell me how it's a work of art."

"Of course it is. I designed it myself." He said lightly.

"You regret that in a year or two. When you realize what you've created." I recalled, then berated myself once again for wasting my time chatting with an illusion, and retreated to the bench behind me.

"I didn't see it coming did I?" He shrugged it off dismissively. "Oh well, hindsight's twenty-twenty and all that jazz."

"You hate jazz." I replied just to keep it talking.

"Hate is a strong word." The projection replied. "You're missing the point..."

"Then explain it to me."

"Things aren't always that simple, Kid. You need to be willing to learn."

I surveyed the projection, then stood with an impatient huff. "I'm willing to learn what I need to, but I gather you're not here to make that easier for me."

"Not a chance."

"No. You're just here to 'help me'."

"No, no." Stark dismissed conversationally, strolling away towards the control panel. "You killed that one, remember?" I stilled in grim realization when I saw him gesture through a familiar pattern of commands.

"Wanda..." I looked around the cell for any hint of a way out of this, muttering to myself. "How do I escape the fall?" I turned to look at the projection as he shifted through the commands, hoping to buy myself a bit more time. He smiled at me, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You can consider me an upgrade." He informed me before he hit the last icon and the cell began to rapidly fill with pale green, sweet smelling smoke. I reached both my hands up to slap the barrier out of desperation and heard Stark's voice from the other side as the smoke swirled between us to veil him from view. "You don't." He half shouted over the hissing of the vents. "You try to miss the ground." I had mere seconds to ponder the meaning of that nonsense as I collapsed and my eyes fell shut. I opened them to find myself in one of the medical beds at Dad's school. I sat up and pulled the IV out of my arm, noting my change of attire. The doors facing my bed swished open to reveal the Stark projection wheeling 'Professor X' into the room. He was in the reinforced, shock-absorbent chair that the real Tony Stark had made for Dad a few months before his final death.

"What's this?" I asked coolly.

"That depends, entirely on whether you're ready to listen." Projection X responded.


Erik was once again pacing back and forth through a too large bedroom as he fumed over recent developments.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Charles inquired, giving up on announcing his presence in a less intrusive manner. Erik's head snapped up as he spun round to face Charles' projected self. The professor was leaning against one of the bedposts, watching Erik with a concerned frown.

"I didn't feel you..." Erik trailed off, realizing that he actually could feel Charles' familiar signature, even more pronounced than it had been before. He just hadn't noticed it until now.

"You're very angry about something... The CIA. What have they done?" Charles asked, becoming alarmed.

"Nothing yet." Erik admitted, returning to his pacing. "They wanted to collaborate. It was a terrible and profoundly-idiotic idea."

"But?"

"Your sister went along with it anyway. Despite our warnings."

"Yours and Cain's." Charles noted.

Erik stopped pacing. "You're closer."

"Yes. How is she?"

"Stubborn, but unharmed. They proposed an exchange. They want us to give up two of our own to work with them and 'in return' we would accept two of their agents here to work with us."

"It's a risk." Charles conceded.

"It's unacceptable!"

"Raven disagrees?"

"Yes."

"What was her reasoning?" Charles inquired calmly, as if he wasn't currently visiting a fuming magnekinetic's mind.

"You're in my head now, Charles. You know."

"Humor me, my friend." Charles requested, overlooking the insult.

Erik sighed and turned to face him once again. "She insists that this is an opportunity to prove ourselves. The Director claims that he wants to protect us, and that this collaboration is for the good of all of us. Raven seems to think that we can trust these humans." Erik gave him a half-amused, half-frustrated smile. "She's beginning to sound a bit like you."

Charles moved to sit on the end of the bed with one arm still resting on the bedpost. He stared off into space, mulling things over. "Moira and P-" He winced and looked up at Erik. "They..." He trailed off, looking absolutely miserable. Erik sat down on the bed beside him.

"You can say it, Schatz." He assured him quietly. Charles' face scrunched up even more and for a second he looked like he wanted to throw something.

"I hate this." He stated instead.

"You shouldn't blame yourself!" Erik told him, sounding indignant after he'd caught a wave of the telepath's leaking pain and guilt.

"Yes I should." Charles disagreed, with a sense of certainty underlying his odd assertion. He ran a hand through his hair and continued. "What I was saying- They think very highly of him. I am in no way telling you to trust him. It's just something to consider. What is the CIA working on anyway?"

"They're going to raid the Shadow King's mansion. It's the same one where they held us." Erik frowned, resisting the urge to reach out to Charles' image. "What's wrong?"

"You can't let Raven join that team."

Erik narrowed his eyes at Charles, not liking his expression in the slightest. "Why?"

"You probably shouldn't either." Charles reflected absently, he looked traumatized, almost panicked but he was containing it admirably. Erik's jaw clenched. He would've grabbed the other man by the shoulders and forced him to meet his eye if he could.

"Why, Charles?"

"I won't do that to either of you ever again, not if I can avoid it." Charles continued, he had begun to flicker. It was obvious that whoever he was with in the real world, they were fighting with him.

"I can't. I won't keep putting him through this." Erik heard although the visual projection's lips didn't move. It was clear that he hadn't been meant to hear it. "We have to find another way."

"Through. What. Charles?" Erik grated out. Charles whipped his head round to look at him and stopped flickering. The surprised expression left his face and then he just looked miserable, a war raging behind his glistening eyes.

"My death." Charles said.

All the metal fixtures in the room began to melt in response to Charles' admission.

"I'm not-" Charles began, but Erik cut him off. His voice was low and lethally steady.

"You are going to tell me everything. Now."


I was woken at 6 am the next morning by Arawn knocking crisply on my chamber door. No that's not an Edgar Allen Poe joke. My bedroom was a dressed up, reinforced prison. The walls had been lined with some kind of heavy duty insulator and the door was covered in the same dense plastic paneling that blocked off the windows. It made me wonder how long the Shadow King and his compatriots had known about me. I rolled over and grabbed my robe but didn't bother to put it on.

"Onslaught." Arawn persisted.

"Ugh... WHAT?" I shouted back.

There was a series of clicks and thuds from the copious locks outside. Then Arawn glided over to my bed and rested a gloved hand on the side of my head, speaking into my ear in a muted tone.

"Don't fuss, just get up."

My eyes snapped open. I was suddenly wide awake. "What?"

"You will follow me if you want to live." Arawn responded, then pulled away to glance out the door still appearing outwardly relaxed. "You're wearing green today." He ordered as an afterthought. Well, three guesses what we're up to... I shot him a look as I got up.

"Ok, James Cameron. Anything else I should know?"

"Don't dawdle. I'm not waiting up for you." He warned in response. I was dressed in record time. Arawn just strode out into the hall the second that I was finished, not bothering to signal me to follow. He didn't need to.

We slipped through the halls at a healthy pace. The guards changed shifts around this time, so it was easier for us to avoid detection. After about ten minutes of silent sneaking, my curiosity got the better of me.

"Are you going to let me know why exactly-" I was cut short by Arawn slapping a hand over my mouth as he dragged me behind an appallingly puce set of cabinets.

"...He's not in his room." I heard Deadpool saying, his presence coming gradually closer, accompanied by a human guard. I was already kicking myself for missing it. "I was just there to bring him to Sinister, like I told you. Your job was to guard him and know where he is. The one thing you idiots aren't doing here."

"The kid dropped by to see him a little while ago..."

"The kid." Deadpool echoed flatly.

"The freaky kid. You know..." There was a pause, presumably during which gesturing was involved. I narrowed my eyes at Arawn. He studied my face before carefully lowering his hand from my mouth and pressing closer to whisper in my ear.

"The base of the cabinet. Reach under it."

I scowled incredulously, but slipped my hand under the rim as requested. I wanted to ask him what the hell was going on, but projecting to Apocalypse is patently unwise, so I just bit my lip and played along.

"Apocalypse." Deadpool spat, pacing closer to our hiding place. "You didn't bother to wait for him to leave did you."

Apocalypse rested a hand on the panel by my head as he tried to squeeze further out of view. This was getting awkward, but I tried to remind myself that he'd never had anything against me personally during any time that I'd known him. In my current position, however, that thought proved to be simultaneously reassuring and discomfiting.

"Wh- I- Come on! Creepy or not that kid's the boss' favorite! I didn't think-" The guard defended.

"Onslaught." Arawn whispered sharply into my ear.

"No. You didn't." Deadpool interjected. He was getting far too close now.

"Wait." I whispered. "Envelope."

"Hang on..." Deadpool muttered, turning towards us.

"Grab it. Now." Arawn ordered, then wrapped his arms around my shoulders none too gently and teleported us away just as Deadpool reached us.

He would probably have sped right out into the forest to catch us in that moment if it hadn't been for the blessedly-convenient explosion on the first floor. The CIA was breaking in.

Arawn dropped me and leaped up, propelling himself of a nearby tree trunk to perch on the branch of an oak tree and search the forest around us. I fell hard onto my back, too discombobulated by the teleport to even envy his resilience. I was experiencing everything in a strange haze of jumbled signals. I was tasting color, hearing light and when Arawn dropped back down to speak to me I saw rather than felt or heard the sounds and vibrations. At that point my mind sort of crashed. I felt. A lot. That wasn't meant to happen. My nerves don't work, so how was I... Arawn frowned.

He seemed more resigned than truly angry though. Then he said something to himself that had a cool sort of feeling to it and slammed my head back against the ground to knock me out.

To be perfectly honest, I wouldn't have held that against him, considering the circumstances if it weren't for the fact that I woke to find us all captured again. In retrospect it was a bit like falling upwards.


A/N: Okay guys, sorry for the roughness of this (it's unbetaed) I've been busy lately and I thought it would be better to keep posting when I can rather than let the story hang forever between chapters just so I can keep it looking clean and perfect. Anyway, if any of you notice an error or something that needs fixing, please tell me. Or if you see something you like, or anything, really. I'm trying to draw the story back into a smaller Charles and Erik centered focus, but as soon as I consciously tried to do that, all the characters seemed to gang up on me and push back, so it's taking longer than planned. As always, I thank you all for reading this and hope you will review.