I want to open this chapter by posing a simple question to you: How would you solve a Rubik's cube with every other sticker missing?
Think about that while you read this chapter and feel free to give me your answer at the end.
The Perks of Being a Telepath
Chapter 15: Rubik's Cube Conundrum
Erik closed his eyes as his pain suddenly hit him full force like a train. He looked at Charles, and then realized what had happened.
Charles had frozen time so the bullets wouldn't hit the truck and kill Sean, or them. But he was overreaching himself—the strain he was under was visible in his eyes and the way his muscles tensed underneath Erik's arm.
"Charles…"
"Be quiet, Erik. I can only hold these men for so long."
Hank glanced at Charles, who nodded once, before proceeding to the back of the truck. Charles and Erik hobbled after him, going slower now because Erik could feel every last bit of his injuries.
"I'm sorry, my friend."
Charles' whisper was so faint that it barely carried to Erik's ears.
They made it to the truck what felt like hours later. Between Hank and Charles, Erik was somehow maneuvered into the truck. It was a painful process and Erik was fairly certain he blacked out at some point, for when he opened his eyes again, the truck was moving at a steady rate and there were low murmurs coming from nearby. From the sound of the voices, it was Hank and Sean.
"We're about an hour outside of Westchester."
"We're going to have to switch vehicles—driving a military truck up to the mansion might draw suspicion."
"We've done it before!"
There was a low, heavy sigh across the truck. Erik glanced over there, and through blurred eyes, he could just make out Charles leaning against a metal pole. Raven's head rested on his shoulder and her eyes were closed. He had an arm wrapped around her waist, making sure she didn't fall off the slender bench she was curled up on.
Erik wondered why Raven ever chose to leave Charles and come with him. It was obvious they cared about each other, and Charles was the safer opinion.
You made her feel worthy.
Erik blinked at the sudden contact inside his head. His vision cleared slightly, enough to show Charles' apologetic, though amused expression.
I was waiting for you to wake up, my friend. I wasn't intruding.
It's all right, Charles.
Charles offered a small smile, before scowling up at the front of the truck. Erik raised an eyebrow.
Hank and Sean are being complete idiots.
Is that the technical term for annoying bastards?
That is highly impolite of you, Erik.
You're the one that called them idiots.
Charles huffed a sigh and then winced. Erik belatedly realized that he was feeling a lot less painful than he probably should and that blood was seeping from Charles' nose.
You're going to kill yourself.
What a way to go.
Charles…
Charles didn't reply. He merely closed his eyes. Moments later, a dull, but constant throb took residency in Erik's bones.
Thankyou.
Only you would thank me for hurting you.
I'm a paradox.
Wrapped up inside a mystery surrounded by a Rubik's cube with every other sticker missing.
Don't be ridiculous Charles. I'm not that complicated.
Right. All I have to do is figure out how to properly put the Rubik's cube back together with every other sticker missing.
…You could always take the rest of the stickers off.
Charles opened his eyes in disbelief.
Really? That is your solution?
Erik gave him a twisted, half-asleep smirk.
Sure.
Erik?
Yes, Charles?
Has anyone told you how utterly insane you are?
It was raining. Charles could hear it on the tin roof and feel it as it dripped down from a small hole in the ceiling.
It was also cold. He was shivering. Charles couldn't figure out Whether it was from lack of sustenance or if it was just plain cold in the cell.
Charles also hadn't seen Hank in four days. He tried to pretend that he wasn't concerned by this fact, but he was never very good at fooling himself.
The first day had gone all right. He had spent most of the time asleep, which staved off the pain from the gunshot wound and the annoying hunger and thirst pangs that attacked him at random intervals.
The second day, things started going down hill. Stryker had decided to up his game and not let an injured, powerless telepath sleep at all. He had the guards running alarms and drills outside of Charles' cell from dawn till dusk, only pausing long enough for Stryker to stand outside of Charles' door and drink a giant cup of tea.
What Charles wouldn't give for a cup of tea.
The hunger, he could deal with. He had been dealing with it for the better part of a month and a half now, despite Erik and Hank's constant urgings that he needed to eat more.
The gunshot wound was more of a dull, constant ache that was easy to ignore. It was starting to become itchy—a sign Charles was fairly certain was not good—but Charles could still put it to the back of his mind.
The thirst was slowly driving him mad. It soon became all he could think about, taking precedence over the gunshot wound in his chest and the fact that Hank was still missing.
Charles was contemplating maneuvering himself so he could catch some of the rain drops to quell his aching throat when footsteps sounded down the hall.
He reached out with his powers, which he was slowly being able to control again, but couldn't sense anything. He was too weak, from the hunger and the thirst.
The door opened. Stryker stepped in and studied Charles' limp form on the cot. Something about the almost comatose telepath made him smile.
Charles' heart burned with hatred. He could finally understand what possessed Erik to kill Shaw three years ago. It was slowly beginning to possess Charles as well, with every accidental insight he had into Stryker's mind. The things he had done to Charles' fellow mutants—tochildren—were unthinkable.
A man that cruel could not be allowed to live.
"It is time to see whether you've learned your lesson, freak."
Charles glared at him.
Stryker chuckled in response.
"Guards! Take him to Cerebro. And if he doesn't cooperate, kill the furry freak."
Someone was snoring. Loudly.
It was the first thing Erik noticed upon waking up.
He blinked, clearing his vision, and turned his head, pleased to find that the motion didn't send pain shooting through his skull.
He was rather surprised at what—or rather, who—he found sitting by his bedside.
Charles was sitting in the overstuffed leather chair with a blanket wrapped haphazardly around his shoulders. His head was buried in his hands and he was fast asleep.
And he was snoring.
"Ch'les?"
It came out nothing more than a croaky whisper. Erik swallowed, wincing at the dryness of his throat. He moved his head again, this time glancing at the bedside table.
A glass of water was perched within easy reaching distance. Beside it was a Rubik's cube. Half of its stickers were missing.
Erik smiled softly as he reached for the water.
He let out a groan as pain spiked through him, lighting his chest and the rest of him on fire.
Charles' head shot up and his sleepy blue eyes were wide as he glanced wildly around, before his gaze settled on Erik. Confusion and concern littered his face as he glanced from Erik to the glass of water. Then, understanding dawned on him.
"You could have just asked, you know."
Erik scowled. Charles sighed and handed Erik the glass of water.
"I'd offer to help you drink it, but I think you'd take that as an insult to your pride."
"M'a'my'ry."
Charles raised an eyebrow.
"You'll have to forgive me, my friend. I have been ordered to not use my abilities at the moment, else risk an aneurism. So, my knowledge of what you're actually thinking or attempting to say is gone."
Erik frowned.
"An'sm?"
Charles ran a hand through his hair. Erik noticed a thick white bandage encasing the limb from his knuckles down past his wrist.
"Apparently, telepathy and brains don't get along very well."
He didn't say anything else. Erik glared at him. Charles smiled benignly in response.
"How are you feeling?"
"Fine."
"An entire word! Congratulations, my friend, there may be hope for you yet."
Beneath the sarcastic façade, Erik got the sense that Charles was hiding something, something beyond the injured hand and the references to aneurisms.
"What happened to you?"
"Was that an entire sentence? By George, I think you're going to make a full recovery."
"Charles."
Charles sighed heavily and looked away. When he spoke, it was in a soft voice, barely loud enough for Erik to hear.
"You almost didn't make it, Erik. God, the things I saw in your head… I'm surprised you did make it. And then they did those same things to Raven… I'm sorry, my friend. I am so sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry for. We lived. We're going to be fine."
Charles closed his eyes.
"But others are not. You won't be the last ones rounded up. And they won't be so lucky."
Erik was quiet for a moment, choosing his next words very carefully.
"You know then that we have to stop them. The humans. Before it's too late. Do you have it in you to allow that?"
"I don't know, my friend."
It was a testament to just how badly Charles had been rattled by Erik's condition that he didn't preach equality and peace for all.
It scared Erik more than he was willing to admit.