Note: The first part of this chapter takes place about two months after the last chapter.
Also… all the chapters are going to be between 3 and 5 pages, probably not longer and definitely not shorter.
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The Perks of Being a Telepath
Chapter 2: Too Easy
This is too easy. Something's wrong.
Charles heard Erik's mental grimace as they stealthily made their way out of yet another CIA complex. They had already encountered a couple of the operatives, but Erik had easily dispatched them. It was if they weren't even trying to contain them.
From experience, both Charles and Erik knew that the government had the means to control telepaths and metal wielders.
"We are almost to the exit."
Erik spared him a glance. Charles saw the uneasiness plain in the German's face, a fact that worried him. Erik rarely displayed his emotions so openly.
"That does not make me feel any better, my friend."
There was a high pitched scream, this time close by. Charles reached out with his mind, stunned when he found that he was unable to reach Sean's mind.
"Charles?"
Charles waved Erik off, reaching instead for Raven's mind. There was nothing.
Fear rising in his throat, Charles reached for Erik's mind, which he had just felt moments ago. There was nothing.
"Charles?"
Erik placed a hand on the telepath's shoulder.
"Erik, I can't feel them."
The admission came out in a croaky whisper.
"What?"
Erik's shock was visible in his widened eyes.
"I can't feel Sean or Raven or… you."
No sooner had he gotten the words out, there was a loud, sudden klaxon, right before large doors slid down, cutting both Erik and Charles off from their escape, and from Raven and Sean.
"Erik?"
The doors weren't metal.
Charles didn't have to be a telepath to feel the frustration and horror flooding off Erik in steady waves.
They were trapped.
Checkmate.
A stunned, pained silence reigned over the beach, broken only by the heavy breathing of all the conscious individuals on the beach.
The blue girl and blue lion exchanged horrified glances, while the other two kept a fearful, watchful eye on both the plane and the submarine.
"Hank," the blue girl whispered.
Before the lion—Hank—had the chance to reply, a man with long, boyish brown hair dressed in a blue and yellow jumpsuit stumbled out of the plane, his blue eyes wide and wild with panic. A woman in a gray jumpsuit followed, looking horrified and worried.
"Charles," the blue girl began.
The man, Charles, shook his head. His face was pale as he paused for a moment to catch his breath.
"I'm all right, Raven," he said quietly.
Raven looked disbelieving, but before she had the chance to reply, a man who was very obviously dead floated out of the submarine. He had a red line in the center of his forehead with a single drop of blood slipping down his face.
A second man floated behind him, dressed in a blue and yellow jumpsuit. On his head, he wore a metal helmet that looked absolutely ridiculous on his grave face.
Raven looked from the first man to Charles and back again, her yellow eyes widening in cold, horrified realization.
"Today, our fighting stops!"
It was the tall man in the yellow jumpsuit and ridiculous helmet that spoke as he came to a gentle stop on the ground.
"Take off your blinders, brothers and sisters."
The unconscious men and girl slowly got to their feet and huddled together on one side of the beach. Raven, Hank, and the two boys stood together behind Charles.
"The real enemy is out there! I feel their guns moving in the water. Their metal, targeting us. Americans, Soviets… humans. United in their fear of the unknown."
Charles stopped at the edge of the beach, as did the helmeted man.
"The Neanderthal is running scared, my fellow mutants!"
The helmeted man glanced at Charles, a sad, but determined look on his face.
"Go ahead, Charles. Tell me I'm wrong."
Charles lifted a hand to his temple, knowing what he would find, and horrified when Erik's words became true.
Charles woke to the sound of shouting and crying nearby. Disoriented and just barely awake, he rolled over, intent on getting out of bed and going to find whoever was in trouble.
It took him until he hit the cold, concrete floor to realize that he was not in his bedroom at the Westchester mansion and the cacophony of sound was coming from inside his head.
"Nice of you to finally join the living, Charles."
The telepath started and then relaxed as he reached out to touch a familiar mind. He looked up from his position to the floor to see Erik sitting in the far corner, his arms crossed and his legs stretched out in front of him. He had a bruise beginning to form on his left temple, which caused his left eye to be nearly swollen shut. His nose looked broken.
"What happened, Erik?"
Charles winced as he pulled himself up to a slightly more dignified position. He realized that he probably didn't look much better than Erik.
"What we feared would happen."
The two had often entertained the idea of what would happen if they were caught during one of their 'terrorism' episodes, if Charles' illusions failed, if they were trapped like they had been.
"This day keeps getting better and better."
His head still hurt, to go along with the plethora of other aches and pains he had as a result of their capture.
"Raven and Sean escaped."
Charles widened his eyes in relieved surprise, before he glared at Erik, realizing what must have happened.
"You should have gone with them."
He hated it when Erik decided to play hero—because it always involved Charles being the damsel in distress and the telepath hated to think of himself that way.
Erik rolled his eyes. Charles, for a moment, hated his friend for being able that small luxury without wanting to scream.
"Would you have left if they had drugged me?"
Charles sighed wearily. They both knew the answer to that question.
"I can take care of myself, Erik."
Erik chuckled, a dark and humorless chuckle.
"That remains to be seen."
Charles took a moment to take stock of his surroundings and his injuries. He knew well enough by now that the government agents were never gentle in bringing in the mutants—they didn't believe they had to be since strictly speaking the mutants weren't human.
It seemed as though his ribs had taken the brunt of the abuse this time around, which was consistent with being drugged and falling to the floor. He was fairly certain that one was broken—someone had probably kicked him to make sure he was actually unconscious—and the others were just bruised.
"The doors were made of Plexiglas. That's a new one."
Charles blinked, taking in a small cell that was barely big enough for one occupant, let alone two, before his eyes focused back on Erik.
"It's a new age."
"It means they're adapting to us."
"If it makes you feel any better, they must have had mirrors built into the wall and I was completely useless."
"You're always completely useless, Charles."
"Thanks for that, Erik."
"You are quite welcome."
They were silent for a minute.
"The drug is wearing off faster this time."
"Which drug? Your telepathy inhibitor that they insist on shooting at both of us every time we break in or the one Hank came up with to let you walk again?"
Charles was quiet.
"Charles?"
"Hank's."