For about the next month (or longer), I'm going back to my Tuesday/Friday update schedule. I have enough pre-written stuff once more to do this. Hope you all don't mind. : )
This chapter's pretty short again… but there's lots of action and some depressed Sean in here… so it's all good. …Of course, there's also a pretty intense cliffhanger too… Mwhahahahahahaha….
Thanks for all of the lovely reviews. I adore you all. : ).
So, FanFiction has decided it hates me, so it is randomly deleting some of the things I update 12 hours after the fact... and then randomly reuploading them. I apologize for those of you who were unable to read the last chapter because of this. Also, I didn't get emails about some of your amazing reviews because, once again, FF hates me, so if I didn't respond, it's not because I hate you. It's because I didn't get the email and didn't even realize that I had new reviews until this afternoon.
The Perks of Being a Telepath
Chapter 32: Onslaught Rising
Two weeks later, Raven regretted her thought. It was obvious now that there was something wrong with her brother, something that went beyond the CIA imprisonment.
She had just gotten to the hospital when she heard Charles yelling at someone.
Dropping the take-out cartons from the local Chinese place, Raven dashed down the hall and around the corner, stopping dead when she saw Sean coming out of Charles' room.
"What happened?"
The words fell out in a harsh demand.
Sean looked at her, his face downcast.
"I don't know. I was asking him when he thought Erik was going to wake up and then he started yelling at me."
Raven's heart went out to Sean and she rested a hand on his shoulder.
"I'll talk to him. See what happened. He's probably just worried about Erik."
By the look on Sean's face, it was obvious he didn't believe that lie anymore than Raven did. He, of course, knew all too well what happened when Charles lost control. He had been there after Cuba.
Sean sighed.
"I just want him to be okay."
The soft admission almost broke Raven's heart. She understood where he was coming from—she had tried living in a world where Charles wasn't all right. It hadn't been a pleasant experience.
"He will be."
She just hoped that her promise came true.
Sean nodded glumly before leaving. He had been released from the hospital a few days prior and was now heading back to the hotel to entertain Hank.
Raven waited until Sean disappeared around the corner before taking a deep breath and stepping inside the room.
Charles was sitting in a wheelchair underneath one of the windows. He had been in a wheelchair ever since he woke up—Hank's miracle cure had worn off a long time ago, leaving him paralyzed once more from the waist down. Hank couldn't do anything about it, either, because it would be almost impossible to explain to the doctors why exactly Charles was suddenly walking again.
Raven was suddenly anxious—what if Charles started yelling at her, too? She had never been able to handle his anger well, for he so rarely got upset with her in the first place.
"I know you're there, Raven."
He sounded completely exhausted, as though yelling at Sean had taken what little energy and strength he had regained over the past few weeks.
Raven crossed the room and stood behind him.
"Why were you yelling at Sean?"
Charles shook his head, still not looking at her. Something outside in the parking lot or the country road beyond had captured his attention and didn't plan on releasing it anytime soon.
Raven waited for a moment for her brother to respond. When he didn't, she pressed on.
"He thinks there's something wrong with you."
In the reflection in the glass, Raven could see Charles' raised eyebrow.
"And what do you think?"
She sighed heavily and plastered a smile on her face.
"I always think there's something wrong with you, Charles. You're my brother."
Her humor received no response other than a gentle sigh.
"Raven, if you don't mind, I would rather be alone."
There was an undercurrent of persuasion in his voice. It wasn't powerful enough to actually force Raven to leave, but it was strong enough to make her want to.
"Don't do that to me, Charles. You need me."
He let out a faint, disbelieving chuckle.
"I need you? That's a laugh."
The harshness in his voice startled Raven.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
Charles' face contorted into a twisted smile that didn't suit him at all.
"It means that I don't need you, Raven. You, or anyone else, for that matter. I am perfectly fine on being on my own."
That brought a dark laugh to Raven's own lips.
"Yeah, because that worked out so well for you the last time."
It was a low blow, bringing up Cuba in such a manner, but she wasn't about to take it back. She needed some sort of sign that her brother was still in there somewhere, and not completely replaced by whatever this was.
Charles shook his head.
"I was a different person then. I'm better now, stronger. I can handle being on my own."
He sounded so detached, so unemotional about the one event that was almost guaranteed to bring at the very least a grimace to his face under any other circumstances, that Raven immediately knew that something was wrong.
"Who are you?"
Another cold laugh filled the hospital room.
"You haven't figured that out by now?"
Raven was trembling violently. Somewhere, deep in her mind, a faint memory was stirring. It was what she referred to as the Dark Days of her childhood, back when Charles had spent so much time in the hospital. When he came back, he was always dark and moody, refusing to talk to her. There was a memory, hidden underneath the surface of the rest, that she had all but forgotten.
Charles had received a concussion and spent two days in the hospital. When he had gotten home, it was like he was a completely different person. He had been unusually quiet, and when he did speak, it was often words of anger that frightened Raven. He was also more liberal with his abilities, especially reading Raven's mind, which was something he had promised never to do.
At one point, she had slipped into Charles' room after he was asleep to make sure he was all right. He had murmured a word in his sleep. One single word that came to the forefront of Raven's mind now.
"Onslaught."
She whispered it in fear, knowing exactly what it meant now.
Charles, or rather Onslaught, grinned.
"Hello, dear."
And everything went black.
Another shudder ripped through Charles' shoulders as he fought to keep control of his telepathy. It was slowly draining away the longer he held the time freeze and the illusion that Erik was frozen while simultaneously attempting to break into Emma's mind. He knew he couldn't last much longer—it would eventually kill him—but Charles was terrified of what would happen if he let go.
Emma would kill Erik. That much, Charles knew for certain. That alone was enough to keep him stubbornly rooted to the spot, despite the frantic protestations from Erik raging in his mind.
God damn it, Charles, let go!
The words threw Charles down memory lane, unexpectedly bringing up the last time Charles had been in such close contact with Erik's mind for so long. The image of Shaw's submarine floated through Charles' head, momentarily distracting him.
That was all it took. One miniscule distraction and all of Charles' efforts were ripped apart.
Time was released, causing an explosion of thoughts, emotions, and pure noise to crash over Charles' mind, effectively rendering his power useless. His concentration was gone and he had no energy left.
Behind him, Erik let out a shout of pain as Emma renewed her attack on his mind. Charles felt something break inside of him as he tried to reach his power and failed.
A black object caught his eye, sticking out of the pocket of one of the CIA agents. It was a gun.
A plan clicked into place inside of Charles' mind as he stumbled toward the agent, falling to the ground as his knees gave way.
Black spots dotted his vision as he pulled himself forward. He could feel Erik's pain through their mental link as Emma ripped into the metal bender's mind. It was the only thing that kept Charles from giving up.
He had reached the CIA agent. With the last vestiges of his mental strength, Charles managed to make the man forget the telepath was there and grabbed the black object.
The world seemed to go in slow motion as Charles shifted his weight and focused his gaze on Emma. He raised the gun and fired.