This is a work of fiction:
All characters seen in the story are either purely fan-made or from the X man's movies/ Marvel comics. I only own my own OC characters.
Thanks again to my Beta: lizzieBdarcy! You're the best! Check out her stories, they are amazing.
Song: Home - Bebe Rexha
Well hello everyone here I am again posting a chapter from my own quarantined house. Hope all of you are safe and healthy.
To my reviewers:
Lord- Disick: Yeah Katie is going to go through quite a few things in the coming chapters. Hope you will enjoy it.
badwolffor3ver: Well here is a new chapter! Sorry it took so long.
13Zander13: Ahh thank you!
Arianna Le Fay: Nope sorry still no babies. L And don't expect them anytime soon. It will be years before something like that will happen. ;)
Lady Finwe: I'm glad you liked it, hope you will enjoy this chapter too.
I found no cure for the sickness
Nothing here feels like home,
crowded streets, but I'm all alone
Chapter 36. The flow of time:
Westchester 1962: December the 10th
Despite having little to do besides cooking, time passed quickly. Before long, days turned into weeks, and November turned into December.
Bright rays of sunshine broke through the frost covering her windows that morning, and Katie shivered when she finally decided to leave the warmth of her bed. It was a quick dash from her mattress to the bathroom for a hot shower to chase away the chill and she hopped in gratefully.
She dressed quickly
She slipped on a pair of old faded jeans and an oversized sweatshirt that was warm and comforting against her cold skin. After a quick finger combing through the tangles of her hair she twisted it in a braid over one shoulder and left her bedroom.
The hallways were quiet, the only sounds heard being the occasional creaks and groans of the old pipes in the walls, and the soft sound of her footsteps as she made her way down the stairs to the main hall. She continued her stride towards the basement once she reached the last one.
Early as it was, she knew Hank was already up and hard at work on the new project he and Charles had started a week ago. Before Cuba she had always been the first to wake up, but ever since they had returned, Hank had taken over that position. The Feral's sleep schedule had changed since he had injected himself with his cure. He was up long before the sun had risen and was most often still hard at work when everyone had already retired.
At first, she had been worried about him, she feared the young scientist was pushing himself to exhaustion, but the effects the cure had on him didn't seem to be only physical. Hank didn't tire as fast as he used too. His new body needed less sleep, less rest, and he used his unique abilities to his full advantage. For weeks now, Hank spent most of his time in the laboratory on the first floor. He was working hard on finding a new cure that could help him change back to his old self, and though he kept most of his sufferings to himself the evident frustration that was visible in his eyes whenever he would join them for dinner painted a clear picture.
His research wasn't proceeding as planned.
It had been during one of the rare dinners the telepath had joined in that Charles suggested a new project to occupy his mind. After spending the entirety of the meal engrossed in conversation, they'd reached a decision.
They were going to rebuild Cerebro.
Hank had invited Katie multiple times to come see their progress but she'd had yet to take him up on his offer. Most mornings the feral was joined by Charles, who was working just as hard on their project.
Even with the time that had passed since their argument, Katie still found herself avoiding him.
Ever since the first heated words they had shared in the kitchen, things had changed between them. The first few days Katherine had tried to get through to him every time she'd run into him, but Charles waved her words away, using the same arguments every time.
After a few days of this stalemate, she'd given up.
And now there was an awkward tension between the two of them that had made it impossible for her to be in his presence any longer than was required. Both of them had started skirting around each other, it wasn't just Katherine's doing.
Steeling her shoulders at the basement door, she pushed it open with a creak. The old stairs groaned with each step down the old wooden steps.
This morning was different. Before the sun had even risen, she had heard the telepath's wheelchair as it rolled through the hallway outside of her bedroom. Charles had retired much later than he usually did, and knowing that he probably wouldn't wake up before noon had made her decision to check on Hank easy.
Coward.
She shook away the thoughts as her feet reached the last step, her boots crunching on the concrete floor as she continued her stride. Despite the thick sweater, she wore the cold air that lingered in the basement cut through the fabric, freezing her enough to make her shiver. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest to preserve some warmth, her hands rubbing up and down her upper arms as she stepped over the metal threshold and into the bunker.
Her feet halted the moment she was inside.
The basement looked completely different from how it had looked the last time she'd been in there. The walls, ceiling, and floor were all covered with white plates. Wires were scattered on the ground, all of them connected to a round metal platform right in the middle of the basement. The platform was surrounded by heavy-looking grids, they rose from the ground and bulged out, surrounding the platform and connecting at the top of the structure.
Everything about the machine looked menacing, dangerous.
Tools and equipment surrounded the floor around the machine, and there amongst the messes was Hank. The scientist was kneeling in front of a metal plate he had yet to attach to the floor, inspecting a mix of wires. The sound of his voice was unexpected, but somehow she wasn't surprised he had already known she was there. "Good morning Katie."
The hard metal plates Hank had installed on the floor thumped against her boots when she stepped closer. "Morning, Hank."
He got up, the lab coat trailing behind him as when he walked to an old wooden desk that was pushed up against the wall. He looked down at some notes on the desk, and he studied them for a few seconds more before he turned to look over his shoulder at Katie. "So, what brings you here this morning?"
"You invited me remember?"
"That was a week ago." He reminded her curtly.
"Yes, I know. I'm sorry I was -" The lie tasted like ash on her tongue, but still, she uttered it "Busy."
A blue-furred eyebrow rose on his face as he looked at her, his yellow eyes observing her silently. The intensity behind his gaze made her uncomfortable, and with a heart-pounding painfully behind her chest, she turned away from him "So, - "She began, pretending not to notice the way both brows furrowed when she continued talking like nothing was wrong." - This is what you've been working on, hmmm?"
Hank stayed quiet for a few seconds before slowly, he nodded. "Yes, this is Cerebro." He waved his hand over the metal platform, a proud smile curing his lips. "We've been working on it for days now; we finished it late last night."
She nodded, breathing out in relief that he was letting her lie slip. "So, how does it work?"
She smiled when Hank started explaining with an enthusiasm she hadn't seen in weeks. "Cerebro amplifies the brainwaves of whoever uses it." His voice had become deeper ever since he had used his 'cure,' now whenever he talked, it grated like steel on flint. "Charles can use it to detect others like us worldwide."
"So, that's why he's been helping you?"
"Yes."
With careful steps, she walked past the blue-furred scientist and into the metal structure. There was a raised dais in the middle of the platform, and resting on it was a heavy-looking metal helmet. Clear wires ran from the top of the helmet; they bundled together into one thick wire that connected to a computer screen that was built into the metal control desk right in front of the dais. She traced her fingers over the black screen; the glass felt warm beneath her fingers.
"That's where the coordinates come through whenever Charles finds someone." Hank had followed her on the platform, and with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his white lab coat he gazed around his creation with a smile.
"Why does he want to find more of us?" She slowly asked after a few seconds.
"You should ask Charles."
With a heavy heart and a mind that was weighted down with uncertainty, she turned her eyes back on the black screen. She took a steadying breath before shrugging as though the truth didn't hurt. "You know Charles doesn't want to talk to me."
Their eyes connected when she looked back at him, in his eyes, was a concern she'd never seen before.
"He does want to talk to you." He disagreed.
"Then why is he avoiding me?"
Hank stepped closer, his lips curving into a smile that slightly revealed his sharp pointy teeth. "We both know that he's not the only one doing the avoiding."
Her face fell. The feral smiled sadly. "Charles is just worried. You know what he's like. He carries the weight of the world on his shoulders, and the events of the last few weeks doubled that weight." His hand rested on her shoulder, and he squeezed the muscle in reassurance. "I know you two had more than a few arguments these last weeks, but you have to know that even if you're on the opposite side, he still cares about you."
Katie's lips thinned. She didn't know what to say to that. She'd always known that Hank's intellect was off the charts, but when had he had become so wise? For a few seconds, she remained silent, but then a small breath escaped. "Fine, I'll go and talk to him."
She turned her eyes back on the dark computer screen. It would be a relief to be confused about something else for a change. "So tell me, "She slowly drawled. "How did you build it this?"
With a great big smile plastered on his face, Hank stared explaining, and though she didn't understand much of the scientifical things he explained, she did listen.
The promise she'd made Hank had already felt heavy on her when she had made it, but when Katie stepped out of the basement an hour later, it felt like the weight doubled. Taking a deep calming breath, she walked through the empty and quiet hallways back to the main hall. With Charles retiring only the early morning hours, it wasn't hard to figure out that he probably wouldn't be up until late in the afternoon. The idea of waking him up was tempting, but the quick guilt she felt at the suggestion silenced her thoughts. Distracted, her feet carried her up the stairs to the first floor and still lost in thought her legs walked through the hallway to the bedrooms.
She missed the old Charles, nearly as much as she missed-
No way.
She froze the moment her eyes caught the open bedroom door. A strange combination of emotions flickered through the depths of her mind.
Anger, hope, confusion.
It can't be.
Then in the stillness she heard movement coming from inside his room. The vice-like grip in her chest released some of the pressure when she forced herself to fill her lungs with the oxygen-rich air around her.
It wasn't possible, he would never return, not after what happened, not after the path he'd chosen. Katie didn't know which of her feelings were stronger - hope or anger, but she forced both away when she took her first step closer. More sounds came from within the room the closer she got, and she held her breath just before she peeked inside.
Immediately her eyes found the two younger mutants inside. Alex was in front of the closet, the blond was throwing several items of clothing on the bed while Sean was looking through the dresser beneath the window.
She couldn't help but feel a twinge of self-hatred when a ripple of disappointment traveled down her spine. There were so many reasons to hate Erik, and yet she still thought of him, ached for him even though she knew that all that she was doing was torturing herself.
Stop it.
Alex shoved the closet doors closed with a soft click, his arms full of the last clothes out of the wardrobe. His gaze shifted when he noticed her in the doorway, and his lips curved in a small smile as he dumped the clothes in one of the cardboard boxes in the bed.
"Morning, Katie."
Sean turned his head to glance over his shoulder, and quickly his lips curved in a similar smile. "Morning, doc!" The cabinet let out a high-pitched screech when he pushed the drawer he had been looking through closed.
She blocked Erik out of her mind, viciously shoving the memory of him away. The muscles in her throat tightened while she forced her lips to move. "Good morning," But when she contained, the strain in her voice disappeared. "What are you two doing here?"
"Last week, the Professor asked us if we could clean out Erik's room." Alex quickly started explaining.
"- and well, we agreed." Sean finished. "We just didn't have the time until this morning."
The small carbon box she had rummaged through during one of the evenings they spent together was already on the bed. It had fallen on its side, the contents it once held hidden, spread over the unmade bed.
"What are you going to do with it?"
"Donate it," Alex muttered, lifting one of the two boxes in his arms. "When Sean and I go home for Christmas, I will take it with me. My mom works for a local homeless shelter, they'll be able to put this to good use."
Her body tensed.
The pair had informed her of their plans to leave the mansion to spend the holidays with their families. Both young men hadn't seen them since they'd agreed to follow Charles and Erik, and now that things finally seemed to calm down, they had expressed their desire to go home. She didn't like the thought of them leaving, despite their promises that they would return in the New Year. She had looked forward to spending Christmas together, especially now that Hank and Charles weren't acting like themselves.
She forced a smile upon her lips, pushing away the small ache inside with fake cheer. "Your right, it's better to donate it than to leave it here."
Sean nodded in agreement, picking up the small box that he had dumped on the bed. He threw the spilled out contents back in it first before he dropped it in the bigger box. Sean hoisted the box at the same time that Alex took a step to the door. "Yeah, and well, he had expensive tastes."
The blond stopped when he had reached her, and she followed his gaze as he dropped it to look down at the clothes in the box. The rich metallic scent that could only belong to him drifted up from the box and into her nose. She wasn't able to stop herself from inhaling it. With a dry mouth, she forced herself to speak again.
"I'm sure it will make a lot of people happy. It's a good idea, Alex." She pushed her gaze away from the box, and when she caught Alex's eyes, he grinned at her proudly before stepping away.
"Thanks, Doc! See you at dinner."
"Don't be late." She told him over her shoulder. "I'm not going to reheat it again because you two forgot the time."
"Yes, ma'am!" Sean joked, carrying his box with him when he trailed behind Alex to the door.
A small chuckle rose in her throat, but the sound got caught before it came out as she let her eyes roam the room. So many tender thoughts and fragrant memories clung to the walls that surrounded her.
Stop it.
With a quick shake of her head, she forced away from the aching thoughts. She had almost crossed the threshold when something caught her attention from the corner of her eyes. Her gaze shifted back to his bed.
Sunlight traveled from the window; its rays creeping over mattress. Something hidden between the blankets caught the faintest trace of the light, it shimmered brightly in response. Katherine stepped closer, already turning her head to call Alex and Sean back to tell them they forgot something. When she saw what it was her mouth closed and the words forgotten.
His necklace.
The silver medallion was lying between the blankets, abandoned. Tears burned behind her eyes when she leaned down to pick it up, but again she swallowed them back, refusing to give them life.
The chain was cold against her fingertips, the medallion heavy on her palm. With her thumb, she pressed the small button on the side; it immediately sprang open, revealing the two small photographs inside to her eyes. For longer than a minute, she stared at the jewel, her hands surprisingly steady under the heavy pressure in her chest. Her fingers wrapped around it when she turned around to leave the room. It was just another thing Erik had left it behind without a care, without a thought.
But even if he hadn't cared about the medallion, she couldn't bring herself to think of throwing it away.
The hour was late, the winter sun had already switched places with the full moon, and in the darkness of the night, the bright white orb almost seemed to glow. Inside of the mansion, several fluorescent lamps hung from the walls, their lights humming as they cast a bleak pall over the rigid back of the female mutant, who silently stood in front of the old oaken door that led to Charles's office.
Katherine didn't know how long she had been standing there; she had lost track of time the moment she'd left the kitchen in search of him. Again, he hadn't joined them for dinner. Instead, he had only left the safety of his bedroom to briefly join Hank in the laboratory before he had locked himself up in his office again to work. He had stayed there for the rest of the evening.
Nervously she swallowed, her eyes fixated on the tiny stream of light that came from underneath his door. The view was warm and inviting, beckoning her like a welcome mat, yet still she remained frozen. She never had to knock on his door before, Charles always seemed to know she was there. But now, even though it was clear he was in his room, he stayed quiet. The silence in her head made her insecure, nervous, and anxious.
What if he didn't want to talk to her?
The sound of her thoughts and the fear of her weaknesses forced her to do something. With a deep breath, she raised her hand. For a moment, she hoped that Charles's voice would come through the walls before her fist connected with the door. But it didn't, and the first knock as it resonated on the wood made her cringe in discomfort.
Seconds passed before a voice answered. "The door is open, come in."
She waited another second before she did. The warmth from within greeted her with open arms as she stepped over the threshold, and her eyes instantly found the man she had been looking for. Charles was behind his desk, he had been writing something down, but had stopped when the door opened. He looked up, and his eyes widened in surprise when he saw her.
"Katherine? What brings you here?" He looked down at the watch around his wrist. "At this time?"
"You didn't know it was me?" She asked curiously as she looked at him.
The man looked terrible. His skin was pale and drawn as a ghost. His hair was greasy, and there were deep bags under his bloodshot eyes that could only be caused by two things — a lack of sleep or heavy intake of alcohol. The almost empty bottle of whiskey next to him on the desk was a clear indication that it was probably both.
Charles didn't seem to notice her roving eyes; all he did was sigh before he dropped the pen between his fingers down on the papers on his desk." No, I was distracted-" even with his voice slightly slurred, his clear blue eyes were bright as he observed her when she slowly stepped closer. "Is there something I can help you with?"
Her feet almost halted when she heard the formal tone creeping in his voice. "No, not I just wanted to talk."
That seemed to put up his defenses. He leaned back in his wheelchair, his jaw tight. "Katherine I'm not in the mood-"
She held up both hands before he could continue. "Stop Charles, please. I'm not here to argue or continue one of our earlier fights." She sat down into the armchair in front of his desk, folding her hands together in her lap. "I just want to talk." She repeated.
"About what?"
"Cerebro." She answered without restraint.
Curiously an eyebrow on his face raised. "You've been to the basement?" Another question slipped past his lips, but this time the tone of his voice was milder.
She replied with a nod. "Yes, Hank tried to explain to me the inner workings of your new project."
"And?"
Her lips curved slightly. "Even when the doctor tried to dumb it down, he still uses words I don't understand."
The scoff that left the back of his throat almost sounded amused. "Sometimes, even I have a hard time following his train of thoughts."
Her smile grew deeper. "Good I'm glad I'm not the only one."
They both chuckled for a few seconds, the sound breaking a portion of the tension when they quieted once more. "Well, there was one thing I did understand." When she saw that she had his attention, she continued. "Hank told me you wanted to find others like us."
Charles perked up in his wheelchair. "That's correct."
"Why?"
Considering her question, he reached out for the almost empty carafe of whiskey and refilled the glass tumbler on his desk. "In the coming years, more mutants will appear, more mutants will be born, and without the right guidance and discipline, we could find ourselves heading into a war we cannot win." He tilted the glass to his lips, emptying it one gulp before he finished. "That is why I want to use Cerebro to find them, to invite them to come and stay here."
She blinked. Whatever she had been expecting, it wasn't that. "You want to start a haven," she whispered. "For mutants."
"I was thinking more in the lines of a school." He placed the empty glass down, staring at it longingly for a few seconds before he looked up at her again. "And if we are planning to start a school, well we need students. - "
"Students?"
"And teachers."
"Teachers?" She parroted again.
His lips lifted on one side when he saw the flash of brief confusion cross over her face. With both hands, he pushed the wheels of his wheelchair back and steered himself around the massive desk, stopping the wheels more quickly than he had in the first few days. "If we want to guide and teach young mutants, we will need the right people to do so," The sound of his voice was smooth and calming. "A large undertaking, to be sure. But if we work together, I believe we can make this work."
It was hard not to smile at his eagerness. She leaned back in the antique armchair, crossing her legs and folding her arms across her chest. "Are you sure this isn't all because you like it when people call you professor? "She asked solemnly.
His immediate response was a laugh, the sound unencumbered and lighthearted. For a small moment, she recognized the man she hadn't seen in weeks in the sound, and the familiarity warmed her heart. Soon, his laughter ebbed away, but when he talked again, she could still hear it in the tone of his voice. "Just you wait. Once they are starting to call you professor, you will learn to appreciate it just as much as I do."
"What, me?" She threw her head back, this time, the laugh came from her. "Really, Charles, I'm not suited to be a teacher."
He shook his head, still smiling. "Why not?"
"I dropped out of school when I was 11; I doubt there's anything I can teach anyone."
" Oh, I disagree." His back straightened in the chair. "I think there's a lot you can teach anyone."
With a smile on her lips, she shook her head, "Isn't it wiser to let me do something I'm good at it?" She uncrossed her hands and, unsure what to do with them, rested in her lap before she continued speaking without thought. "I'd be better suited as the cook. Or maybe school doctor."
Within less than a heartbeat, the heavy tension that had been lingering around them for weeks returned. Charles straightened his back, his eyes narrowed defensively.
"Or home economics." She blurted out, nervously twisting her hands in her lap. "Someone needs to teach those kids how to cook, right? I have enough on my plate feeding Alex and Sean."
He observed her for a moment, blue eyes watching her while a slow breath escaped from his chest. The tension between them broke again when he talked, but the roaring frustration inside of her chest remained. "Your talent is wasted in the kitchen Katherine. I was hoping that you would be interested in teaching something like biology or human anatomy."
She swallowed back the taste of her disappointment at the prospect of not using her mutation the way she wished she could. "That sounds like a great idea Charles." The lie was transparent in her voice, but even if he had heard it, he didn't acknowledge it.
"Wonderful!" He pushed the wheelchair with both hands to make it move. He pivoted himself to the small sitting area. "How about we celebrate our new project?"
"And how do you want to celebrate?" she carefully asked as she stood up, turning herself to follow him. He stopped his wheelchair when he had reached the small side table, and with a smile that almost felt genuine, he waved his hand over the chessboard that was resting on it. "How about a game, "He asked." It's been a while since I've played. I know you have taken a liking to it."
It wasn't the same chessboard that Erik had used to teach her. That board and its pieces, both wood and metal, had mysteriously disappeared a few weeks ago. After having seen Alex and Sean clean out the metal benders room, there was no doubt that Charles had thrown it out too in an attempt to erase the metal benders' presence from the mansion.
If only it were that easy.
She sat down in the armchair on the other side of the table, and leaned forward, picking up a pawn of the board and placing it on another square on the playing field. "Okay, but no mind-reading Charles. If you want to play then I want to have a chance to win." A slightly wicked grin crossed his face, she couldn't help her lips from curving when she noticed it.
They played their game in silence, a nervous one at first that soon eased.
Throughout the evening, they conversed softly , and occasionally, a joke or two would make them laugh. It felt just like old times, although the "old times" weren't so long ago, and even if she wasn't looking forward to balancing on a tightrope whenever she was near him, right now, it felt like the best thing to do.
Westchester 1962: December the 12th
She had been surprised when she had woken up that morning to find that snow covered everything. It cast a white mantle over the gardens outside the mansion, and everywhere one looked, the grounds were as white as the wool on a newborn lamb. The coldness it accompanied crept through the stones and the hallways, and even with the heating on and all fireplaces burning brightly throughout the day, she still dressed in several layers of clothing to stay warm. It was even worse in the basement, and she cursed when she felt the chill creep through her clothes as she followed behind Hank and Charles when they had made their way down after breakfast. After testing and fixing the last flaws of the machine, Charles had finally decided it was time to use Cerebro for its true purpose. He offered Katie a front row seat. Dying to see the fruits of their labor, she accepted the invitation without hesitation.
With wide eyes, she watched as Hank plugged in the wires first before placing the metal helmet on Charles's head. The air around them buzzed with electricity when the feral activated Cerebro, and with a loud intake of breath, Charles tensed in his chair. His body tightened, his face grew hard, and in his eyes, a strange and distant look appeared.
The computer screen on the control panel remained black for less than a second, but then out of nowhere, coordinates appeared. The concentration on the telepath's face broke when his lips curved in a broad smile, and when more coordinates appeared, he couldn't keep the laugh from escaping from his throat. His excitement was contagious, and she found herself looking back at him with a smile that was probably just as wide as his own.
They could make this work; they could turn this place into a school. A haven for mutants. It was a goal that gave them a purpose once more, and it felt good.
Port Morris, the Bronx New York 1962: December the 12th
Rain clattered heavily on the roof of the abandoned car repair store. The wind howled through broken windows and cracks in walls, the cold air wrapping around him, making him shiver slightly in the darkness of night. His steel eyes stared out through the window, focusing on the boats that passed by on the canal behind the old garage.
Almost two months had passed since Azazel had teleported them away from the beach. The red-skinned mutant had used his mutation to bring all of them to New York, and when the red smoke cleared, it had immediately become apparent to Erik that a submarine hadn't been the only luxury thing Schmidt had possessed.
The apartment they had appeared in was huge. It had been a safe house that Schmidt had bought; it had been the place the Hellfire club had laid low in whenever they had found themselves in New York.
They had stayed there for one night and had left in the morning, their pockets and several suitcases filled with stacks of cash and other valuable items they had found in several safes hidden around the apartment. All of it was rightfully theirs after all, and he would make sure it would be put to good use.
Raven and Angel had objected to them, leaving the safety of the apartment, but he had known better, he always knew better. Even if the news kept the events in Cuba under wraps, the government was looking for them, for him. They had left Schmidt's body on the beach, and there was no doubt that the government was starting to follow the trail the man had left behind.
A trail he had no intention of continuing.
A gust of wind blew outside the car repair shop, and it picked up the autumn leaves on the dock. Silently he watched through the thin glass windows as they were flung around in circles into the air. Beneath the laminate flooring he was standing on, he could hear the others as they talked and moved around in the repair shop on the ground floor. They had been lucky to have found this place. It had been abandoned but still had running water and electricity, and with the help of his new telepath, they had made sure to keep those that were curious out of the way.
It had been the right decision to break Emma Frost out of the CIA prison, even though he knew the operation had made the target on his back that much brighter. The female telepath had been a powerful addition to their little group, and addition, he needed, especially now that enemies old and new were learning the name he had adapted.
Magneto
The old wooden stairs behind him cracked with the weight of footsteps. With a flick of his fingers, the metal helmet he had stolen from Schmidt rose from the old desk against one of the walls. It flew into his waiting hands, and was firmly on his head when he Emma took the last step off the stairs into the open office.
"Already prepared, I see." Teasingly she inclined her head to the metal helmet on his head. He didn't offer her a reply. He had enough experience with one telepath roaming around in his head; he wasn't planning on letting it happen again.
"Did you do as I ask?"
With an exasperated sigh, the blond-haired woman stepped closer. She dropped herself down on an old dusty and weathered couch that had seen better days. "Always working and no fun." Elegantly she crossed her legs, the tight white jeans she wore outlining her legs. She stretched her arms wide, resting them over the sofa's back calmly before she continued. "At least Sebastiaan knew that sometimes you have to play to release some tension."
He knew the only reason she mentioned the Nazi scientist's name was to grate his nerves. He clasped his hands behind his back, keeping his eyes focused on the array of boats in the canal. "Yes, and we all saw what happened to him, didn't we?"
Behind him, Emma chuckled. The man's death hadn't seemed to affect her at all, Out of all the former members of the Hellfire club, it seemed that Riptide was the only one that had cared about the death of his former leader.
The springs of the couch creaked under Frost's weight when she stood up behind him, and he could feel her eyes curiously roving over his back as she moved closer. Even without her being able to use her telepathy, she still tried to decipher him.
"I'm wondering." He instantly resented the manipulative tone that took over her voice. "Why did you want me to go to Westchester in the first place?"
"I told you why."
"You told me to keep an eye on what your dear telepathic friend was doing, what move he was making" she clicked her tongue, her eyes glinting. "But while I was there, someone else caught my interest."
Dangerously his eyes narrowed, his head shifting her way when she stepped beside him. He didn't need to guess to know what she was implying. The way her red lips curved told him all he needed to know. He was just about to open his mouth, to warn her, advise her to tread lightly when another pair of heavy footsteps climbed up the stairs. His eyes shifted at the same time that Emma turned her body to face the new arrival.
Her ruby lips curved even wider, already knowing who would appear any second. "So, that's where I know her from." She spoke, amused. "If you only knew how much he thinks about her."
A surge of anger poured down his spine, and he was just about to keep his face apathetic when Riptide appeared on the stairs. The suit-wearing mutant turned their way, his dark eyes narrowed as he eyed both him and Emma warily before he spoke. "Angel returned, she needs to speak to you." The man's once handsome face was marred by a broken nose that had healed crookedly, a fitting reminder of the mistake he had made when he had underestimated her.
The first night after they had arrived in the apartment, Angel had tried to set the break in his nose. Riptide had screamed and cursed her name, and he had vowed that he would look for the woman that refused to die to finish what he had started on the beach.
He had silenced him quickly.
He had been sitting back on the white leather couch in the apartment, and with a flick of his finger, he had made a butcher knife fly from the kitchen. Without warning, it had been pressed against Riptide's throat, hard enough to draw blood.
"If you even think about touching her, I will do more than break your nose and a few ribs."
The tone of Erik's message and his voice had been clear, and the silence and obedience he had gotten from the man ever since had told him his threat had been received.
"We're almost done, leave." Erik waved his hand before he turned back around, once again staring outside the window. The canal outside was quiet now; no more boats would pass at this late hour. He waited until he heard Riptide's footsteps walking down the stairs, waited until he heard nothing but the wind as it roared and the thud of his own troubled heart. "Now, to continue where we left off." He forced himself to speak in his most neutral tone.
She answered him mockingly. "Yes, where were we?"
"How is he?"
"You sure you want to ask me about him?"
No, he wasn't.
"Yes."
His mental walls had always been made of the most robust iron, and over the years he had succeeded in keeping his mind clear and free of any influences.
Until he had met her.
She had broken down his walls with her special smiles and lavender kisses, and now that he had created distance between them, it had become hard to deny how accustomed he had gotten to having someone share his bed, and how odd it had felt to be by himself again. He wanted her still. He wanted her beside him during the day, next to him in his bed at night. He wanted to feel her body close, to kiss her and feel her respond.
He wanted to hear her say his name.
Several emotions clawed at his spine, but he forced the sensation away.
"Tell me how my old friend is doing."
TBC: Let me guys know your thoughts! Much love from Moi and stay safe.
