So, this chapter was originally intended to be far more epic than it turned out to be. As in, lots of Erik angst and hurt Charles. Alas, poor Yorick, that did not happen. For some reason, Erik wanted to show off his human side. Thus... this happened.

I apologize if this is slightly later than my somewhat once a week (occasionally twice) schedule that I've been sticking to lately. As of 10:00 PM(EST), the first part of this had not been written at all... I just randomly got inspired by omelets no less and went from there.

I also apologize if this seems random and quirky...actually, scratch that. This entire story is random and quirky. But we'll be getting back to the deep stuff in the next chapter, where I'll also begin ramping up for the next (and final) set of cliffhangers and drama.

Heads up: At max there are going to be 20 more chapters. ...I know, it seems like a lot, but time's going to fly by.

Shameless plug: If any of you who are Hunger Games fans and haven't already checked it out, I started an XMFC/Hunger Games fic. It's called The Mutant Games. Feel free to check it out if you'd like.

Thank you to all who have read and reviewed. I love you all-you're amazing people and if I could find each and every one of you in real life and give you a giant hug, I would. But alas, I shall only stick to sending you virtual hugs so I don't wind up on the Most Wanted list.

The Perks of Being a Telepath

Chapter 44: An Unusual Occurrence

Hank stared at Sean uncomprehendingly, attempting to come up with a reply that was more eloquent than huh.

"What do you mean, he's gone?"

There. That was acceptable.

Sean shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans and hunched his shoulders.

"I went to his room this morning and he wasn't there. So I looked everywhere else he usually is and I couldn't find him."

Hank growled, before letting out a heavy sigh.

"Is Erik still here?"

Sean shrugged.

"I don't know. I didn't exactly go looking for him."

As if called by some magical power, the front door opened downstairs. Hank's keen ears instantly recognized Erik's nearly silent footsteps striding into the house.

Hank looked at Sean.

"Well, that answers that question. C'mon, let's go see if he knows anything."

The other teen hesitated for a moment, clearly uneasy about going and confronting the metal bender. Hank didn't blame him, but he knew for Charles' sake, they should at least attempt to talk to Erik. No matter how much of a bastard he was.

Hank gave the redhead a slight, sympathetic grimace, before pushing passed him and heading down the stairs. He didn't need an overdeveloped sense of hearing to know that Sean was following him.

Erik was in the kitchen when Hank and Sean emerged on the downstairs landing. He looked almost…normal, with a carton of eggs on the counter and a sauce pan heating up on the stove.

He appeared to be unaware of the two teenagers ogling him, but Hank knew the older man well enough to know that he was never not aware of his surroundings.

Sean broke the slightly awkward silence.

"What are you doing?"

The German didn't even turn around, confirming Hank's suspicions.

"Making an omelet."

The words were spoken in a quiet, non-threatening voice, but the fur on the back of Hank's neck rose anyway. The scientist wasn't entirely sure why—maybe it was the all too unnatural sight of Erik making breakfast.

Erik sighed, still not turning around.

"Is there anything you two want?"

Hank glanced at Sean, feeling as though since the other teen had been the one to notice Charles' absence, he should be the one to ask Erik about the telepath. But the redhead was drooling at the sight of the eggs being cooked, his mind clearly elsewhere.

The furry teen sighed. He really hated being the responsible one.

"Have you seen Charles?"

The back of Erik's head nodded.

"He's at Alex's grave with Raven."

Oh.

That would explain why Sean wasn't able to find him. Hank and Sean had an unspoken agreement not to visit their friend's grave. Not because they meant any disrespect to Alex, but because they both knew it would be too damn hard to face.

Erik turned around. Hank was shocked by how exhausted the older man looked. Of all of the things he knew the German to be capable of, Hank had never thought being tired was one of them.

The metal bender sighed.

"He's going to be a while. Do you two need to talk to him immediately or can it wait?"

Hank once more glanced at Sean—the fact that he had noticed Charles' absence in the first place meant that he clearly needed to talk to the telepath—but once again, the redhead was rather captivated by the omelet.

The scientist resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"I think it can wait."

Erik shrugged in acquiescence.

"Do you want some breakfast?"

Hank and Sean's mouths fell open simultaneously, so quickly you could almost hear the snap.

What was the world coming to? The Professor killed someone and Magneto was offering to make them breakfast?

Sean recovered more quickly than Hank.

"God yes. We haven't had anything decent to eat since…"

He trailed off awkwardly, his brain finally having caught up with his mouth and realizing that it was probably not a brilliant idea to bring up the Cuba incident if he actually wanted a decent breakfast.

Erik merely looked amused.

"Well, grab a plate. It should be done in a few minutes."

It was way too early for life to be this freaking confusing, Hank decided as he followed Sean's lead and grabbed a plate from the cabinet. This was more than likely some twisted dream of his. It had to be. There was no way that Erik was making breakfast.

But damn, did that omelet smell good.

He decided that even if this was some sort of sick dream, he might as well enjoy it while it lasted.

Because after all, Erik making breakfast was just absurd.

The following night found Charles and Erik holed up in the library, playing a game of chess. Charles was winning, though neither one was really focused on the game.

For once, Onslaught was being quiet, buried under the hundreds of other thoughts and problems Charles was dealing with.

"I think we should go recruiting again soon."

Erik looked up from the chessboard in surprise.

"Are you sure, Charles?"

The telepath nodded as he pushed his queen across the board.

"Check. And yes. I think it's time we stop hiding and remind the world that we're still here."

He also had a burning desire to find out what had happened to Moira—it had been well over three months since Charles had last heard from her and he was starting to get worried. She had played an instrumental part in their escape from the CIA and if anything had happened to her because of him, he doubted he would be able to forgive himself. Especially on top of everything else that had happened as of late.

Charles half expected Erik to protest, but instead, the metal bender merely nodded as he moved his king in a hasty retreat.

"If you think you're strong enough, then we should."

The anxiety Charles had been picking up from Erik all day quickly disappeared and it took the telepath a moment to realize that Erik had been searching for a way to bring the subject up for well over a week.

Well, that's one problem solved.

There was still the issue of what to do with the mutants in search of refuge. The twenty-six Erik had broken out of the CIA base a few months ago weren't the only ones in need of a safe place to hide, and it was looking as though that the last government raid had only increased that need.

Erik seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

"I think it's time we return to Westchester, too. The renovations should be completed by now and we're going to need Cerebro if we want to find the others."

He spoke this hesitantly and somewhat defensively, as though he were expecting Charles to protest. Upon a quick glimpse of his mind, Charles realized that Erik's hesitation was mounted in the knowledge that Onslaught came from Charles' dark past in the mansion and Erik didn't want to give the darker half another chance to take hold.

Charles was touched by the sentiment, though he knew he was strong enough to fight whatever darkness lay in wait for him at his childhood home.

He moved his knight and smiled.

"I think that's a grand idea. We'll tell the others in the morning and leave as soon as the snow clears."

Erik looked relieved as he accidentally set himself up for checkmate.

"Good."

Charles moved his bishop.

"I believe you're in checkmate, my friend."

You're an idiot, Charlie. A naïve little idiot.

Shut up, Onslaught.