So, this is the chapter where we take a merry jaunt down the road of 'out of left field-ness.' And this chapter almost ended up being all Charles' consciousness scenes, until I realized that that's all that it was and added some of Texas at the end.

Thank you for all of your continued support! It makes me really happy when I open up my email in the mornings to all of your wonderful words.

Perks of Being a Telepath

Chapter 27: Impossible

Pain.

It was all around Erik. It consumed him. It was him. He was it. There was nothing besides pain.

He let out a gasp as his eyes flew open. He was no longer standing by the ocean and Charles was no longer standing beside him.

Instead, they were in another hauntingly familiar place, though this one was much sharper in Erik's mind.

It was the CIA's prison that they had just left.

To be more specific, it was the basement room at the end of the long dark hallway where the machine that almost killed –had killed?— Charles had been.

The room was as it had been when Erik left; completely and utterly destroyed. Blood spattered the floor where the hard cement wasn't covered by piles of bricks and debris. But unlike the last time, where there had been bodies and Stryker and a dying Charles, there was just this subconscious version of Charles. The one who simultaneously appeared healthy and dead all the same time. The one with the pale face, accentuated by dark circles underneath his haunted blue eyes and the too thin frame that was slightly hunched in pain.

Erik hated it.

Charles stood in the center of the room, right where Erik had found him—how long ago had it been? How much time had passed between the rescue and now?

"This is where it all ends."

The words frightened Erik more than Charles' appearance, more than everything else that had happened that night. The look on Charles' face, paired with the scene around them, and everything else Erik had seen in Charles' head said enough. That, coupled with the fact that the words didn't come from Charles, was enough to send Erik into a full fledged panic attack.

Charles looked as bewildered as Erik felt as he slowly looked around the room. His blue eyes were bright with pain and horror as he realized what was happening.

That makes one of us.

Erik's dark thought rang loud and clear in the silence of the room. He realized belatedly that the chance of hiding his own thoughts from a telepath while inside said telepath's head were slim to none.

Charles barely reacted to Erik's thought, though. His eyes widened as they settled on a point behind Erik.

Erik slowly turned around, wary of what he was about to find. Anything that had the power to cause that sort of reaction in Charles must have been frightening.

It was Charles.

Erik stared in confusion as Charles walked into the room.

It was a different Charles, to be sure. This one was more… alive. His steps were even and certain, borderline cocky. His face was filled out and healthy. His eyes were bright and mischievous. He seemed more like Charles than the haunted, broken man who stood directly behind Erik now.

"No."

It was the broken Charles that whispered as the other Charles came to a halt in front of Erik, grinning in an almost arrogant manner.

"Hello, dear. Have you missed me?"

Charles ran a hand through his hair, sighing for what seemed like the tenth time that morning.

"Stryker is a coldhearted bastard."

His prolific statement was enough to bring something akin to a smirk on Erik's curious face and what sounded like something between a growl and a laugh from Hank.

Erik recovered first.

"That's an understatement. And something I thought I'd never hear from you."

Charles leveled Erik with a look.

"I'm not the saint you make me out to be. And it's true. I have never met a man more calculating or more conniving than Stryker, with the exception of maybe Shaw."

"What does this have to do with your inability to read his mind?"

While Erik could be subtle when he wanted to, he preferred the art of bluntness. Charles resisted the urge to roll his eyes, though he had a feeling that his irritation was mutual.

"Stryker's mind is unlike anyone's I've ever touched. He's so compartmentalized that he has almost the perfect defense against telepaths."

Charles really hated the thoughtful look in Erik's eyes, carefully hidden by layers of curiosity and possibly unfeigned concern.

"What does that mean?"

It was always easy to forget that there were other people in the world when Charles was around Erik. The telepath almost jumped at the sound of Hank's voice.

"It means that through some force of Stryker's being—whether it's his deep seated hatred and fear of mutants or if it's some mutation of his own—I can't read his mind unless he purposefully grants me access or projects thoughts. It's unreal. I have never been able to meet someone who has been able to do that, at least, not unconsciously like Stryker does. Telepaths can do it to a certain degree—it's more because they have to than because they need to, so they don't become overwhelmed by the world at large—but it's a conscious decision. It's why I'm more vulnerable to projecting when I'm asleep or when I'm stressed, because it takes a lot of effort to be able to control my mind like that."

Understanding flashed through Erik's eyes, though Charles was fairly certain he didn't know what the metal wielder had grasped so suddenly. And he wasn't about to risk looking into Erik's mind to find out, either.

Hank interjected before Charles had the chance to question Erik.

"So you can't read Stryker's mind unless he lets you read his mind?"

Charles mentally sighed.

"Yes."

"How is—that's crazy."

Charles agreed, though he was distracted by the look on Erik's face. It was thoughtful and calculating. The last time Charles had seen that look, he had wound up paralyzed. A mental image of a helmeted Erik floated through his mind.

Suddenly, it all clicked. Charles had accidentally proven that the helmet was now useless, so Erik was looking for alternative ways to block telepathy.

That fact alone wasn't surprising. What was surprising was the fact that it had taken Charles this long to realize it.

He mentally groaned as he realized another fact: Erik wasn't coming to Texas merely to keep Charles company or to keep him from overusing his powers or even to prove his worth.

Erik wanted to leave.

Erik looked from the Charles behind him to the Charles in front and back again, unable to comprehend what was going on. The smirk on the healthier Charles' face and the shocked look on the other Charles' face did nothing to help the matters either.

"Would somebody mind telling me what the hell is going on here?"

Surprisingly, his voice didn't shake nor did it betray how frightening he found all of this.

"Onslaught."

The faint whisper came from behind Erik. He spun around, raising an eyebrow in confusion. The sickly Charles shook his head, his blue eyes dark with pain.

The other Charles spoke up.

"Right in one! Got to say, Charlie-boy, it's been years since I've been able to have the chance to speak to you face to face."

Erik was still looking at the hurt Charles, trying to guess what was going on. It was impossible to read the telepath's face, though. There were so many warring emotions on his face, that his emotions created a mask that kept Erik at bay.

"Charles…"

The cocky Charles spoke again.

"Erik Lensherr. What an honor it is to meet you face to face. I have to say, it's thanks to you that I exist at all."

Erik turned slowly, the hair on the back of his neck rising.

"What do you mean?"

Charles smiled. It wasn't a happy smile. No, far from it. It was a bitterly sarcastic smile, that held traces of dark humor that Erik would never even begin to understand. It was the complete opposite of the usual expressions on Charles' face, that even after nearly four years of being Charles' friend, it made Erik realize he knew next to nothing about the telepath.

Dark Charles was speaking again.

"I mean what I said. I wouldn't exist, at least not this powerfully, without you."

Erik looked back to the injured Charles, searching for some explanation. There was none forthcoming. The weaker Charles looked like he was still in shock. Erik returned his gaze to the other Charles, who was still grinning.

"What exactly are you?"

"I'm a manifestation of Charles' subconscious. Or, rather, his personality. Did you ever wonder why that man is so… saint like? How he's so tolerant of others? Why he never uses the power you know that he has? It's because of me."

"What do you mean?"

"Imagine a world where Charles doesn't have his control because he doesn't want it. Where he does whatever he wants when he feels like and damns the consequences."

Erik swallowed heavily and looked back to the other Charles, who was still looking as though he had been hit by a truck.

"Is this true?"

The pale imitation of Charles nodded briefly.

"Yes."

Erik turned back to the Charles without inhibitions.

"And when you say it's because of me that you exist?"

"Haven't you ever wondered what would happen if a telepath stayed connected with one person for far too long? Especially a telepath that also happens to be an empath? They start to take on bits and pieces of the other personality. In short, they start to become the person they've become attached to."

Erik's eyes widened as the truth of that statement hit him.

"That's impossible."

Charles snorted.

"You can lift submarines with your mind, I can control people, and my sister can take on the form of anyone she wants and you're saying this is impossible?"

They made it to a private airstrip in Texas without any further conversation. Charles had fallen into a pensive silence and Erik was too busy glaring out the window to notice.

Hank mumbled something about staying with the plane as Charles and Erik got off. They both turned to look at him, Charles was puzzled and Erik looked relieved.

"Are you sure, Hank?"

"Yeah. I've had enough of…"

He trailed off. Charles hid a sad smile, guessing the end of Hank's thought. It wasn't too hard to figure out—Charles and Erik had been at each other's throats the entire flight down to Texas. Charles could understand why Hank needed to get away from them for a while.

"Well, stay with the plane. With any luck, we'll be back here in an hour or two."

Erik snorted in disbelief. Charles mentally sighed.

Can you stop being so pessimistic?

I'm sorry, Charles. It's just that you're so annoyingly naïve at times.

Charles rolled his eyes. Hank looked at them with knowing eyes before he shook his head.

"If you're not back in an hour, I'm coming after you."

"Don't. If we're caught, then you need to get back to New York and warn the others. We don't need you winding up in jail as well."

It was Hank's turn to roll his eyes.

"I can take care of myself."