For those of you who read ahead, you'll recognize parts of this chapter. Also, I won't be able to respond to your reviews for this chapter and chapter 2 until next week some time. I am currently at a horse show and am going to be uber busy all weekend.
The Perks of Being a Telepath
Chapter 3: Pain
Pain. Nothing but white hot, blinding, agonizing pain filled Charles' mind as he fell face first into the sand.
"I'm sorry."
He was distantly aware of shouting before there were strong arms wrapping around him and the bullet was gently pulled out of his back, but then the pain overtook his consciousness once more and threatened to send him into darkness.
"You did this!"
Erik's voice was harsh, making Charles flinch with a different type of pain. He forced his eyes open, horrified to find Moira being strangled on her dog tags. There had to be symbolic of something, but Charles was too far gone to consider it. His English professor at Oxford would have been scandalized, but then, that stuffy old man had never had to watch his best friend strangle someone he cared about.
"Please, she didn't do this."
Erik looked at Charles, confusion and defiance visible in his eyes.
"Erik, you did."
In the distance, he heard Moira gasping for air as the metal wielder released her dog tags. Pain made his vision cloudy, but he could have sworn he saw tears in Erik's eyes, if only for a moment.
I'm sorry my friend.
"Us turning on each other, it's what they want."
It's not.They just want this pain to go away. Or was that him?
"I tried to warn you, Charles. I want you by my side. We're brothers, you and I. All of us, together. Protecting each other."
That's what we were doing until you drove a coin through my skull. Shaw's skull.
"We want the same thing."
"My friend, I'm sorry. We do not."
Charles looked into Erik's shocked, yet resigned eyes, wanting him to know that Charles didn't blame him. Charles had known all along he and Erik were fundamentally different—he had just prayed that they would be given enough time to perhaps change Erik's mind.
They weren't. And that was perhaps the greatest tragedy of that day.
Erik was the first one they lost. Alex was the second.
It took the better part of a year for Charles to forgive himself after they lost Alex. It hadn't been his fault, or really anyone's—Alex had been drafted into the Vietnam War and forced to go overseas after the events in Cuba. But when the young mutant had stepped on a landmine, Charles had taken the entire thing personally. He had felt as though he should have done more to stop Alex, but instead, he had encouraged Alex to go.
Alex was a week away from being returned home when he stepped on the mine that had taken his life.
Charles, who had been working on increasing the range of his telepathy, had felt every single moment of Alex's death.
It was shortly thereafter that Erik decided to come back.
They took Erik away first. They must have realized he had been in a concentration camp and tortured, thus needing more persuasion to break.
It showed how little the government actually knew about Charles Xavier.
Charles was caught in a state between boredom and pain, sleep and alertness, telepathy and not being able to use his abilities at all. He hit the extremes of all of them, which left him exhausted and shaking by the time Erik was returned in a semi-conscious state to a practically destroyed cell.
Erik raised an eyebrow once the guards left.
"I was bored."
His voice was hoarse from lack of water. He wouldn't admit to it—but he had screamed his frustration at the cell walls and that probably hadn't helped matters much.
"Clearly, the government needs a lesson in how to entertain caged telepaths properly if they wish to cut back in their annual spending."
Charles let out a laugh, but it was full of bitterness and didn't suit him whatsoever. He changed the subject.
"What happened?"
Erik looked really no worse than he did when he left over two hours ago. In fact, if anything, his face was cleaner and there was less blood on his shirt.
"Interrogation."
Charles let out another dark laugh.
"Is that all?"
Erik smiled slightly. Honestly, it was a completely creepy smile that sent shivers down Charles' spine that had nothing to do with how bloody cold the cell was.
"I was told they weren't to question you until you snapped out of your momentary insanity. So if I didn't answer their questions, they would just give you more drugs until your brain melted."
Unfortunately, Charles' telepathy had cut out about two seconds before Erik had been returned to the cell, so he wasn't able to discern if Erik was making fun of him or not. On the other hand, it was probably a good thing that Erik hadn't been there to witness just how powerful an out of control telepath could be—Charles was fairly certain that the guard outside the door was convinced he was a chicken and would be for the rest of his life.
"Relax, Charles. You're projecting. And yes, I was kidding."
Charles sighed.
He couldn't feel his legs. He could feel the pain radiating from the bullet wound all the way up his spine and taking over his mind, but he couldn't feel his legs.
He let out a cry of pain when Moira, Sean, and Alex attempted to move him and almost gave Hank a hug when he ordered them not to do that.
"Don't move him."
Charles let out another gasp of pain. He hated how weak he sounded, but bullet wounds freaking hurt.
"I-I can't feel my legs."
The words were out of his mouth before had time to fully realize what he was going to say.
He felt their surprise and shock and the beginnings of what would be betrayal and hate and years of family therapy—weretheyafamilyanymore?—before the denial and the ohgodnonotCharles set in.
"What?"
They didn't want it to be true, any more than he did. But wishing it away didn't actually make it go away.
"I can't feel my legs."