Happy Thanksgiving everyone! And to those who don't celebrate it… I'll enjoy my turkey for you while you enjoy this chapter. : ).
I really like this chapter, because there's a lot of awesomeness to go around in here. And Sean's back! I feel like he's not really in this story… so I put him in here.
We get our first look at Stryker in this story in this chapter! I know, thirteen chapters in and he's just now making an appearance… just goes to show how my muse likes to draw things out.
And this one broke the three page mark for once! It's four and a half pages.
Also, I'm in the process of responding to all of your reviews. Don't worry—I will give you all a personal thank-you for being so awesome.
The Perks of Being a Telepath
Chapter 13: The Plan
It was a clear, dark, chilly night. The guards outside the complex shivered as they stood on ceremony in the shadows, frozen fingers clutching the ice cold metal of their guns.
A faint red light briefly broke through the darkness, followed by a puff of smoke as one of the guards lit a cigarette.
An imposing man dressed in a warm black jacket and pants approached the guards. He carried a briefcase in one leather-gloved hand and a gun in the other.
"Have you seen anything unusual?"
The man's name was William Stryker, a rising young military man who was known for his hatred of mutants. None of the guards liked him—he was arrogant and cruel.
"We wouldn't remember if we did, would we? Since the other side has a telepath and all."
Stryker turned, not expecting the sarcasm from his guards. Usually they were men of few words.
A young man, barely out of his teens, with a shock of red hair and a slightly drugged expression grinned back at him. He had a joint in one hand—he had been the one to light up then.
"What is your name, private?"
The red haired man smirked.
"Banshee."
Stryker blinked and then the man was gone.
"Where did he go?"
The rest of the guards gave him a blank look.
Stryker tightened his hand on his gun. The mutants were here.
It was dark.
That was Charles' only thought when they plugged him into Cerebro.
The first time Charles used Hank's invention was full of color, light, and brilliance as he connected himself with millions—if not billions—of minds. There had been nothing else in the universe that was quite like using Cerebro.
The awe he felt when he used it never diminished, even when the machine tore away at his defenses and control and left him vulnerable—which was pretty often, because Charles never really did learn how to take things in small amounts.
But this time, there was only darkness.
"What the—someone get that blue lion over here! He said that it was fully operational!"
Charles opened his eyes to the large, circular room. There were two scientists sitting on the far side, writing diligently in their notebooks. Stryker stood behind them, glaring at Charles and the machine the telepath was chained to.
Charles resisted the inexplicable urge to smile. Something about the frustration Stryker was portraying amused him to no end.
The door behind Stryker opened to admit two guards dragging Hank in. Charles froze at the sight of fresh blood dripping from Hank's nose.
"There is a problem with your machine."
Hank looked at Charles with wide, yellow eyes. Charles nodded once.
"I'll have to run some tests."
His voice didn't even stutter.
"You said that it would be working today, that we could start finding more mutants today."
Stryker was furious. Hank glanced back at Charles.
"It's still new technology. There might be a loose connection in the wiring."
"Fix it! I want answers, today!"
Stryker slammed his fist against the metal paneling of the control table. Hank jumped at the sound.
Charles…
I know what I'm doing, Hank.
I don't think provoking him is the best idea.
I'll be fine. Really.
Hank's mind still felt unconvinced, but none of that showed in his voice.
"I don't know if this can be fixed. I might have to do a total system shutdown."
Stryker strode for and grabbed Hank by the collar of his jumpsuit. Hank growled in surprise.
"If it takes you longer than three days, the first mutants that telepath finds are going to die. Painfully."
Charles was horrified.
No.
Stryker turned back to him, shoving Hank forcefully to the ground in the process.
"And if there isn't a problem with the machine and it's you that's refusing to use your powers, then I'm going to find your little metal wielder friend and kill him myself."
I'd like to see you try.
"Stay out of my head, freak."
Charles glared at Stryker, unable to say anything.
Stryker turned to the guards.
"Tie the beast up outside when he's done working and then give the telepath a double dose of the inhibitors. I don't want him so much as thinking about using his powers until we need him to use the machine, you hear me?"
That's going to take you outside your three day time limit.
Stryker stormed over to Charles.
"Listen to me, Xavier. I don't care how necessary the government thinks you are—I think you are nothing more than a disease that needs to be stamped out. You read me?"
"You just told me to stay out of your head."
Stryker turned to the scientists.
"Order the guards not to give that telepath anything outside of the inhibitors. No food, no water, no painkillers for the next two days."
He turned back to Charles.
"We'll see how cocky you are then."
Erik became fuzzily aware of someone standing over him as he slowly became conscious once more. At first, he thought it was Raven—she was more than able to become small enough to slip into and out of the plastic bars of their cage—but then he remembered that she wasn't any better off than he was at the moment.
He forced his eyes open, an effort that took far too long and was far too unsatisfying as he merely got a blurred look of the world.
Erik…
That sad, pained British-accented voice did not belong to his thoughts.
Erik blinked, trying to clear his vision. He had to be imagining things—the damn government had built mirrors into the walls to prevent any far reaching telepaths from reaching any of the mutants.
"You are not imagining things, my friend."
There was a slight, sad chuckle. Erik heard the rustle of clothing, and suddenly, a hand dressed in fingerless gloves brushed against his forehead.
"You're running fever."
Erik tried to come up with an appropriate response other than blank surprise that Charles was actually here.
"Hank, how's Raven?"
Erik flinched at the loudness of Charles' voice in such close vicinity to his ear.
"Sorry."
The telepath's apology was a whisper.
Hank's loud growl came from across the hall.
"She's in the same shape he is."
"Damn."
Erik raised an eyebrow.
"Don't give me that look, Erik. Can you sit up?"
Seeing as he could barely see, sitting up might be a problem.
Charles sighed.
"I have an idea. You're not going to like, but I can siphon off some of your pain. Take the edge off, so to speak. At least until we get out of here."
Erik tried to shake his head, but pain flared up along the back of his neck. He let out a grunt, which Charles mistook for affirmation.
He pressed his fingers against Erik's temple.
"D-don't."
"Shut up, Erik. Don't worry, the second we're free of this place, I'll let you go back to being a masochist."
"I don't like the pain."
He felt better. A lot better, actually. His vision cleared and he was able to see properly for the first time in days.
He narrowed his eyes at Charles, who looked extremely pale dressed in a black coat and slacks. He looked normal, outside of his face being scrunched in pain.
Erik mentally growled.
"You're an idiot."
"I've been told that on multiple occasions, mostly by you."
"You shouldn't have done that."
"It's the only way to get you out of here safely."
"And what about Raven?"
"Hank's carrying her. I didn't think you'd wish to suffer the same indignity."
Erik hated it when Charles was so… Charles.
"That is a very profound thought, my friend."
Charles smiled. If he was shaking slightly, then Erik decided not to notice.
"Where's Sean?"
"Being distinctly unhelpful by provoking Stryker."
"Couldn't you just erase Stryker's memory of seeing Sean?"
Charles gave him a look that implied he was extremely stupid.
"We can have this discussion later. Are there any other mutants here?"
Erik shook his head, closing his eyes for a brief moment to quell the nausea that overcame him. Concussion then.
"None. I think the only reason why we're here is because it's mostly plastic."
Charles looked uneasy.
"What is it?"
Charles shook his head.
"Later."
Erik sighed, wincing as the motion pulled at his chest. Charles looked sympathetic.
"I can only take away the pain you feel, not the actual injuries. I'm sorry, my friend."
The worst part about it was that he actually was sorry.
Charles looked like he wanted to say something, but bit his lip at the last minute.
"Let's go."
Hank stood outside the cell, carrying an unconscious Raven in his arms.
Erik felt every last one of Charles' wave of emotions as he looked at his adopted sister for the first time in over a year.
She was in her natural blue form—she had lost the ability to change at will after their last 'interrogation' with Stryker. Blood seeped from a cut on her forehead and matted her red hair. Her left wrist was at an odd angle—obviously broken. A mottled mass of darker and lighter blue mixed in with green, purple, and yellow shadowed her chest.
"Raven."
Charles' horrified whisper was so full of love and concern that it made Erik feel like he was intruding on something private.
"Sean says that Stryker's getting suspicious."
Charles blinked at Hank's words, his blue eyes wide with both the pain he was taking from Erik and from the shock of seeing his sister in such a state.
"Right. Let's go."
His voice shook violently.
Hank looked concerned as he looked from Erik to Charles and back again. He sighed, obviously realizing what Charles was doing.
"Professor-."
"Let's go, Hank."
Charles turned back to Erik, who was now slumped against the wall.
"Can you walk?"
Erik honestly had no idea. He didn't remember much after Stryker brought Raven into the interrogation room—just blinding pain in his arm and then nothingness.
Charles muttered something neither Hank nor Erik could make out, before he crouched down beside Erik.
"Put your arm around my shoulders."
"You're going to fall over."
"Do you trust me?"
There was a moment of hesitation that seemed to last a lifetime.
"…Yes."
It was the truth.
"Then do what I tell you."
Erik wrapped his good arm around Charles' shoulders. Charles gently pulled him to his feet. Erik couldn't help the hiss of pain that escaped him as the movement jostled his broken ribs, but the pain quickly faded.
"Charles…"
"I'm fine, Erik. Now let's get out of here."