Here you go, chappy 7. Next update as soon as possible.
I have never told him that I do love him.
Somehow I have always thought he would know it anyway.
'He is a telepath,' I have thought to myself, 'He surely knows it already.'
And of course he has KNOWN it - and I hope he still DOES know it - though I think he has always wanted to hear the words leaving my mouth.
I think I've been too afraid.
I think I should have told him.
Does he think I am too coldhearted?
No..
Surely not.
Though, I am not sure anymore.
He has changed, and I am changing.
Somehow I have the feeling we are drifting apart.
I still love him.
I think I always will.
Chapter 7
Charles did not want to go to Hank, because Hank would want him to talk.
He would not talk.
He did not want to.
He could not.
Raven smiled as she pushed his wheelchair along the corridor, her soft voice echoing through the sunlit hallway, "Maybe you want to talk to him today?" The dark wooden floor was melting with the shadows, it was hard to tell where the wall began and the floor ended. If just the curtains were not such a dark green, maybe then it would be a warmer place. "I bet you will feel better afterwards."
He doubted it.
The voice of his sister was always soothingly, and Charles had the feeling she feared to break him if she talked too loudly. Oh dear, he thought to himself, why would she think something like that? He was already broken, and it was not her fault. Though, he was glad that she cared; somehow it made him feel a bit better. Ah, yes, a bit better, maybe, but he still could not stop to hate the fact that he was weak. Was he selfish for acting the way he was acting? Maybe...
There were so many emotions running through his head, so many things, but it was hard to put them in place.
Charles' left hand was patting Sharon, who purred happily while she was rubbing her small head against his stomach; her presence was warm, always, and she was the only one he would let near himself.
Probably because she is an animal, he mused. A part of Charles always tried to analyse the symptoms of his illness, but this part was somewhere in the back of his mind, burried deep under the feelings of self-doubt, sorrow, self-disgust, distress and all the other bad emotions and self-reproach.
I am a wreck, am I?, he thought to himself, and he knew his eyes had to look incredible sad. At least Raven could not see them, did not have to see them... He had to bother them, all of them, annoying them with his sadness and the dull look in his eyes... Once he had been such a self-confident man, with a dream and hopes and the wish to open a school one day, to teach mutant children... But, now he was of no use, not anymore, and that fact gnawed at him, was eating him from the inside until barely any self-confidence was left.
It was part of his illness, but Charles was not aware of this fact. Actually he was not aware of a lot of things, such as that he was not useless and that there was no need for him to feel ashamed or weak; it was not his fault.
But he did not realize it; his mind was too tired, too dazed. He did not see and he did not listen because he closed his eyes and ears to the world outside; it was so much easier to live in his own world where everything was alright, where he could pretend that everything still was alright - that HE was alright...
It is not easy to heal; it is easier to give up.
Charles would have never thought that one day he would be at a point where he pondered over giving up.
Maybe he had already given up.
He could not tell.
He had no clue.
Charles was isolating himself because that was the only thing he was capable to do to feel safe; he did not want to be near anyone, he did want to be alone because he could not bear to be under people. He did not want to FEEL what they felt, did not want to hear their thoughts, did not want to see their sad faces...but at the same time he felt so unbearable lonely...
He was afraid to get hurt again.
He did not want to get hurt again.
And so Charles was hiding inside... The warmth of his mind and the brightness of the astral plane were a welcome relief of the dull daily life in the mansion; he did not feel all too drugged and sluggish when he was in his mental form, then he felt ...better, as if he belonged there...
At least he had his cat, his Sharon; she would always be at his side, she would never leave him, and she would never hurt him... She gave him something to hold on to; her mere presence was enough to make him smile, even if only for mere seconds.
They were at the lab door, already?, and Raven was about to opened the door as Alex came down the hallway; the blonde boy had a stern expression on his face, his lips pressed into a thin line as he walked up to Raven; Sean followed him, his walk a bit slower and his face more worried than grim or stern. Something must be going on...Something must have happened.
Charles could feel Alex anger, like a soft tugging at the edge of his mind, but he could also feel ...fear? He had to raise his mental shields higher, otherwise their emotions would crush him. But, he thought tiredly, does it even matter?
So he listened quietly, his hand in Sharon's fur while his eyes were fixed on his lap. The cat was all ears.
"Raven." Alex greeted her as he stopped in front of Raven and Charles. Raven gave her brother a quick glance, then she met the serious gaze of the blonde boy. Sean joined them quietly; his usually so bright face seemed pale and as Charles looked up he could clearly see the fear in the green eyes.
"What's the matter?" The shapeshifter asked with a polite but strained voice; she also knew that something was going on, but it seemed that she did not want to speak about it in Charles' presence.
"There's somethin you should see." Alex said, carefully, his eyes darting to Charles and back to Raven. Charles tensed slightly, his hand tugging Sharon's fur . The cat meowed indignantly.
Raven's yellow eyes wandered to the cat, who stared up to Raven with wide green eyes. "What is it?" she asked, her voice low. As if he would not hear her when she spoke lower...
There was tension in the air, and Charles grew uncomfortable.
Alex sighed as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, his gaze raised; you could think he was arrogant but Charles knew that the boy was only trying to hide his nervousness. "Not here." And the unspoken sentence ' he would hear it' lingered in the air.
Raven rubbed her blue hands, nervously wringing them as she thought about Alex' words; almost half a year ago she had worn clothes and a mask out of skin and blonde hair, but now she was all her self, naked and blue with red hair and yellow eyes. She gave the blonde boy a stern glance, something that should probably tell him that she would not leave Charles' side now, but Alex' eyes narrowed dangerously. "Raven..."
"It does not take long." Sean suddenly cheeped; his usually oh so loud voice was surprisingly low. Raven furrowed her brow, thinking, then she nodded slowly "Okay." she answered calmly "I'll take Charles to Hank. You'll wait here?"
The boys nodded and Raven opened the lab door. Charles did not turn his head around to look at their faces, but he could still feel the tension in the air. He was glad that they had left them now.
The lab was as white as ever, the garish light of the light tubes illuminating the room in a bright white light; it was almost too white, but not uncomfortable to him, at least normally...
Several glass shelves and cabinets stood at the walls, filled with all chemical and medical things you could need as a scientist. The floor was tiled with white tiles; there was no window, because the lab was at the basement of the mansion, near the training bunker.
Charles had been her for a few times, though not quite as much as Hank was here; the blue furred boy almost lived in the lab. Charles had spent most of his childhood in the libary or his own room, and later he had used the labs in Oxford; this here had been the room of his father, and sometimes he had visited him to watch him during his work. Though, he had never been allowed to stay here without anyone to watch over him, and certainly not after his father had died and Kurt had moved in.
The smell of the lab always brought back the memories of his father; he had died as Charles was seven years old. An accident at work...He had never known that his mother was actually able to show emotions, but this day she had cried. Maybe that was why he had tried to avoid the lab for the past few month as they had returned to the mansion, but now there was no way to avoid it. Medical check ups...
"Hello Charles." the cheerful voice of Hank rang through the lab and brought Charles back to the present. The blue leonine scientist walked around the paper-littered desk, cleaning his glasses with his white lab coat. "You do look a bit pale today. Do you feel alright?"
Charles gave him a soft nod, causing his wavy hair to fall into his eyes because he had not combed it to the side like he usually had used to do. Usually...The word became more and more surreal.
"Listen, Hank." Raven said, pointing with er thumb towards the door where Sean and Alex peered into the lab. "The boys want to show me something, I gotta go but I'll come back later to take Charles upstairs for dinner."
Hank raised one eyebrow, his eyes wandering to the two boys in the doorway. "Okay, alright." He shrugged his shoulders "Oh, and please take the cat, will you? You know.-"
"No animals in the lab, I know." Raven rolled her eyes and Charles felt a twinge in his stomach; he did not want to be without Sharon...
Raven leaned down and carefully took the black cat out of Charles' arms; he almost refused to let her go, almost, but he knew that it would be of no use.. "See you later, Charlie." She smiled kindly down on him, then she left the lab together with Sharon. The cat meowed.
He could follow Raven, could switch to the astral level to take a look at what was bothering the boys, but he was too tired to try anything like that.
He did not care.
There was no curiosity.
All he wanted to do was to go back to bed..
Somehow the lab seemed colder to him.
"Soo..." Hank clapped his hands as the door closed with a soft click, trying to be enthusiastic; Charles knew that he was as concerned as the others, but he always tried not to show it. How kind.
Several minutes later he found himself sitting on the lab table while Hank was examining his shattered leg. Charles stared ahead, his eyes on the shelves behind Hank; through the glass doors of the shelves he could see the red and blue cardboard boxes and the carefully labeled glass vials with the colorful content.
By now he was used to Hank's treatment; Hank was a good boy, he was kind and gentle, always trying to make it as comfortable as possible for him. Sometimes the blue fur tickled him.
Hank had something very kind in his features which made it easy to trust him - at least a bit.
"Does it hurt?" Charles flinched as he heard that sentence and Hank gave him an apologetic smile, his voice full of sympathy. "I am sorry, Charles. Does your leg hurt?"
"Does it hurt?" the voice whispered into his ear while he whimpered softly, trying to get away. The wall was cold and hard...
Charles blinked as the memory faded, shivering slightly as he looked down on his leg as if to think about his answer; in fact he had to think about it because he truly could not say if it did hurt. Well, of course it did hurt, but not quite as much as it did in the beginning.. He pressed his lips together as he remembered HOW much it had hurt.
He nodded.
"A lot?"
A frown, then he shook his head.
Hank seemed relieved as he leaned upwards and pulled Charles' trouser leg down, carefully, so he would not hurt him. "Okay, that is at least something, right?" Charles' gaze flickered from the shelves to Hank, briefly looking him into the eyes, then he nodded again. Hank sighed almost sadly as he eyed Charles carefully. "Do you want to try it today?"
Charles face went blank as he balled his left hand into a fist and shook his head without thinking twice. He meant the talking..He always asked him if he would talk, but he would refuse.
"One more word and I gag you." A rough hand against his throat, he could not breath, he could not breath, hecouldnot-
"Charles?"
There was blood in his mouth, blood of the broken nose and the injured lung. He could not breath..
"You hear me? One more pathetic sound and I'll crush your throat." His heart began to speed up; he was no longer in the lab, he was pressed against the wall, a rough hand full of blood -his blood -against his throat, and his body did hurt and he could not see straight and everything was blurry, he felt dizzy, trying to breath while he tried to loosen the hand around his throat but they would just laugh and-
"Charles."
Charles jerked away as a furred hand came down to rest on his shoulder; he was in the lab again, breathing heavily, his eyes wide with fear. It had felt so real...
Hank's worried face was in front of his own, yellow eyes eyeing him with an serious expression. Charles wanted to be somewhere else right now,wanted to go back to the astral level, he just had to focus and then...
"Charles, don't leave me again." Hank's voice was warm but stern."I know that you would like to...forget all those things. It surely is easier to hide in your mind, but you have to go through this; it is a part of the recovery and-"
Charles turned his head to the side, his eyes closed while his lips were a thin white line. I am not listening to you,lalalalala...
Hank sighed heavily as he leaned back and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Charles..I know this is not easy, but it could be easier if you would cooperate with me...Please, just trust me and try to stay here with me...We can do it."
And Charles wanted to believe him, he really did want to, and he really did try to trust him, he really did, but it was so difficult and he was so tired of trying.. The astral plane was calling.. Charles opened his eyes, pouting while he slowly turned his head towards Hank.
He had a headache.
"How is the breathing? Does it still trouble you?" Hank asked suddenly. He seemed to understand that Charles was not ready yet.
A nod.
Hank hummed, seeming thoughtfully. "Well, that is no surprise..." He smiled encouragingly while he carefully took Charles' bandaged right hand into his paw. "What is with your hand? Does it hurt less?"
Charles shook his head as his eyes turned to the bandaged hand in Hank's paw. Was this really his own hand? If he would try to move a finger, would the finger move?
"Are you able to move the fingers?" the young scientist asked. Charles tilted his head while he looked at his hand. He tried to move them, his fingers, and pain shot through his palm straight to his arm. He winced slightly and was about to take his hand away, but Hank held it. "It still does hurt?"
Charles nodded, looking a bit frustrated as his gaze turned to the tiled floor. Hank began to talk about Charles' hand and his shin, about how the ribs healed well and other things, but Charles was hardly listening; his eyes were fixed on the white floor, following the reflections of the light against the glass and the tiles. It looked interesting.
Charles could not tell how long the examination went on, he was far away with his mind, somewhere between real world and astral plane, musing over things that had no importance, chewing at his lower lip.
He was aware that Hank asked him things, but he would not answer anyway. Sometimes he felt furry fingers against his skin, a needle stinging him, new bandages... "Take your medicine." Hank said, "And please do eat something. It is important for the recovery...Maybe, if you feel better next time, we can start the mental recovery. What do you think of that?"
Charles was silent.
He did not need mental recovery ; he was fine...As fine as you could be after a traumata.
Somehow Hank's eyes seemed sad.
Did he pity him?
Why did they always pity him? Charles did not need their pity, he did not need their help, he did not deserve it, it was his own fault-
No, no, that was not why, it was because he wanted to prove himself that he was strong, stronger than they thought he was, stronger than he had been before, before-
But,no...No, it was nothing like that...
He did not want their help...
He felt so pathetic.
Charles felt like crying.
Raven came down to take him upstairs. This time she did not talk to him, in fact she seemed really thoughtfully.
Charles had long jumped into the astral plane as they arrived the kitchen.
Raven's pale blue glass body was filled with yellow and orange smoke; she was nervous, nervous and worried. But this time her feelings had nothing to do with him. Charles' eyes wandered to the two boys who sat at the kitchen table; Alex's astral body was made of red glass, Sean's of green. Both of them shared the same feelings as Raven, the smoke in the whirling and swirling.
Charles furrowed his brow as he looked down to Sharon, who gave him a knowing glance. You do know what they know, don't you?
Sharon blinked.
Charles looked back up while he walked to the window; even the kitchen seemed brighter in the astral plane, everything seemed to glow in a soft light around the edges. It has to be the psionic energy, he thought to himself as he placed his hand on the glass of the window. Everything in the astral plane was made of psionic energy, and if Charles would want he could change or create anything he would want. For him it was easy to manipulate psionic energy, it was a part of his powers; he just had to transfer his thoughts to the astral plane.
It almost was like manipulating a mind, just easier. If you create something in a mind, it will be a memory, something that will remain and change the mind; it always has consequences.
Charles was able to see what was real and what was an illusion.
If he looked very closely he could see the small tendrils and threads of psionic energy of which the astral plane was made. It was easy to form and bend the tendrils, you just need a bit of creativity and a lot of imagination. It is easier to create something that you know than something totally new. For example, it was easier to create the porcelain service of his grandmother than an unicorn. He had never seen an unicorn , and would probably never see one, and so he would have to trust his imagination. Luckily Charles had a lot of imagination, though, he did not really intent to create an unicorn. The porcelain set of his grandmother, on the other hand, was a memory inside his mind, something that he could easily transfer to the astral level.
Charles was not sure if other telepaths shared the same ability to transfer their thoughts to the astral plane, but he knew that the others like Raven, for example, were not able to change the astral plane. They could not see over the border of reality and astral plane, and that was why they could not enter the astral plain, or their own mind, without any help. That was why they could not manipulate psionic energy.
They didn't even know that the astral planes existed.
The voices of the others echoed through the plane, a soft background mumbling to him; he could hear them very well, and technically he could understand every word they said, but at the moment he did not want to listen.
And, it was a bit difficult right now to listen because of the medicin that Hank had given him; his mind was foggy again and it was hard to focus on their voices. It had been hard enough to jump through the fog of his mind into the astral plane.
"Charles, do you want to eat something?"
He did not answer.
Charles was aware that it had to scare them when his eyes became dim and unfocused because he was somewhere else with his mind - in the astral plane.
But, he was sure they had grown used to it.
The glass under his fingers began to disappear into small sparks of light until there was no glass in the window frame. Charles took a look back to the others, then he climbed out of the window into the yard; it was dark outside, the soft light of the kitchen and the other rooms was the only light source. However, it was no problem for Charles; he raised his right hand and stared at it, focusing. Within mere minutes some tendrils of psionic energy swirled up to his hand, forming a soft glowing light ball in the palm of his hand which was glowing in the greenish blue light of the psionic energy.
Sharon's eyes glowed in the light of the small ball, looking almost devilish; Charles was sure that his own eyes had the same appearance. In compare to the others his own astral body was looking the same as his normal body, but just because he was aware of his mental self which allowed him to form his body the way he wanted. At the moment he had no special interest in forming a new body, and so his mind had chosen his normal appearance.
A beautiful night, isn't it? Charles looked down to Sharon. Well, actually he looked down at two floating eyes since Sharon was almost invisible due her black fur. Sharon meowed in agreement. Charles gave her a small smile. Then let's take a walk, shall we?
They both walked down the small path, the light ball flying in front of them like a small bird. Charles raised his index finger, and with one simple thought the light ball formed into a small butterfly of light, glowing in all colors. The butterfly was inspired by the butterfly of a story that Charles had read once.
Raven had loved the story; she had always wanted to hear it when they were about to go to bed. Charles could not remember its name.
The light was warm and soft, illuminating his skin so that it seemed to have the same colors as the light itself.
I must look like a ghost, Charles mused as they walked towards the pond.
He could still hear the voices of the others, which were floating through the night sky as if they were right next to him, and in fact, they were right next to him, in the kitchen. It was no wonder that he still could hear them, since his body was with them in the kitchen, able to hear everything they said. Their voices were like the soft whisper of the wind, though there was no wind here; it was quiet, quiet and peacefull.
Maybe that was why he loved the astral planes, because here he could be whatever he wanted to be, he could create anything he wanted, here it was peaceful...here he was in control. It made him feel safe...
Sharon meowed, her eyes directed at the far distance. She hissed, her tail wagging from side to side. What is the matter? Charles asked. The butterfly of light flew higher to spread more light over them. The cat spat, ducking as if to hide while her eyes were narrowed. Charles' eyes wandered to the same direction; he could see nothing, it was too dark, but he could feel something...
Wait here, Charles told the cat, which gave him a warning glance. Charles began to walk along the narrow path, the butterfly of light flying high above him to lead the way.
Something was there...No,someone; Charles could feel it now, the other mind.
No, he could not FEEL it, that was the problem; normally he was able to feel any mind that entered the astral plane, but now it was as if there was a...hole. A dark hole without any feelings. It confused him.
He was quick on his feet, quicker than normally possible, but this was the astral plane, everything was possible here, at least for him, and so he ran, almost flew, along the path, his heart hammering in his chest, his eyes wide open. He was not afraid, he was...curious. No one could harm him, not here, here he was invincible.
Almost invincible, Charles corrected himself as he ran past the trees. Just because he could manipulate the astral plane did not mean that no one was able to seriously harm him here.
He stopped, hiding behind a tree as he felt the cold presence comming near. Who was it? And, most importantly, was this someone on his way to the mansion? In the real world? Charles peered around the tree, his hands digging into the hard bark of the tree. It smelled like wood and warm spring air.
The butterfly suddenly reeled in the air, and Charles could feel that it was getting weeker, the warmth of it fading. The light became dim. What...does that mean? Charles furrowed his eyes, trying to feed the small light with more energy, but the butterfly tumbled to the ground and dissolved in to blue sparks. The warmth of the energy disappeared and Charles could feel a soft tingling in his fingertips.
The light was gone and Charles had to narrow his eyes to make out the shapes of the trees in the dim bluish grey of the night. The light of the moon shone through the branches of the few trees, the grass underneath them glowing in an almost silvery light.
That cannot be, Charles thought, panic began to gnaw at him, that has never happened before.. He tried to swallow down the lump inside his throat as he suddenly felt it; the coldness, and as he breathed out he could see his breath in the air.
What the hell was going on? He should go, away, whatever it was, it was evil, destroying the warmth...
Charles began to walk backwards, slowly, his eyes wide open as he tried to see anything in the dark. He stumbled as his foot hit the root of a tree.
Then he could see it.
The darkness.
The darkness that had nothing to do with the bluish gray darkness of the night.
Charles tried not to breath, tried not to make any noise, he tried to be invisivble, because that he could be; he could be invisible, if he wanted. And yes, now he wanted to be invisible.
I am invisible, no one can see me, I am not here, I am just a ghost, I am air, I am invisible, melting with the shadows of the night...
His body began to turn paler, paler and paler till he was transparent, till he was no longer to be seen. Charles pressed his lips together, his hands balled into fists as he stood there like the trees around him, unmoving, trying not to breath. Don't breath, don't, be quiet, make no noise...
A part of him wanted to turn around and run till he was sure he was far far away from the darkness. The other part of him was too curious. And it was weird, because he hadn't been curious for over a month.
The darkness walked towards him, the black spot that was darker than black, which was cold...It had the form of a human, but it looked more like a shadow or a blurred shape of a human. And there was nothing but blackness, no memories, no mind, just...nothingness. And for one moment Charles feard it would eat him up, would eat his mind and all his energy, like a monster, like death itself... Charles could see that the blackness was wafting, swirling like the smoke inside a mind, and there was something gleaming, two glowing points where the eyes should be, two points of light in the color of red. No, not red, he thought, his heart hammering, magenta...
Charles felt as if he was not able to move, frozen with fear as he stared straight ahead. It was reaching for him, the coldness, making him numb, began to wrap itself around him like tendrils of ice, crushing his lungs, taking his air-
The blackness walked, walked and walked till it was just several steps away from him, and Charles shivered, because it was so cold, everything was cold, the trees moaned...He had to go, he had to leave the astral plane right now, or he would freeze.
Would it kill him? Whatever it was, would it wrap its cold tendrils of darkness around him, swallow him? Would he be lost in the darkness, forever?
Whatever it was, this could not be a human mind, could not be a mind at all, because there was NO mind, there were no feelings, no memories, nothing, Charles could see and feel NOTHING, his powers were not able to locate anything within the shadows, and that frightened him.
The darkness reached for him, walked towards him, flames of darkness tried to grasp him...
And then he turned around, turned around and ran and ran and ran without looking back, his heart hammering in his chest as if it wanted to escape his chest, and he was calling the white border, calling it to jump back into the real world, to leave the astral plane, to leave this darkness behind...
What is this? What the hell... He had never seen something like that.
Charles winced as he jumped back into the real world; the transition had been a bit uncomfortable because his mental self had been too far away from his real body. He would have a headache, but that was nothing new anyway. His heart was still pounding in his chest as if he had been running miles.
He felt dizzy.
Has to be the effect of the medication, he thought, his mind sluggish.
"Everything alright Charles?" Raven asked. They were in his room, sitting in his bed. How much time he had spent in the astral plane?
Charles was sure he could still feel the coldness, that he could still see the darkness in front of his eyes, but no, nonono, this was his room, the real world; here was no shadow, and no cold darkness, this was reality, here he was safe..Safe from the shadow. He just hoped that the Shadow would be gone the next time. He did not want to lose the astral plane, it was his only hideaway, no one was allowed to take it from him, it was his, it was not fair it-
"Charles, hey." Raven rubbed his back as he grabbed the blanket with a tight grip of his left hand. "It's alright Charles, everything is alright..." She thought he had had a flashback again.
And she continued to read to him, and he tried to focus on her voice, her warm soft voice, his eyes fixed on the fire place. There was no fire in the fire place, because it was warm outside, but it helped Charles to imagine that there could be fire; warm fire, fire that would spread light and warmth...
Sharon was lying at the end of the bed, on his feet, purring, but here eyes were wary; she must be looking out for the shadow in the astral plane.
The light of the room was dim, the warmth of the blanket welcoming him, the soft pillow under his head comfortable... No matter how afraid he was of the shadow, no matter how afraid he was of going to sleep because he would see their faces again, no matter how hard he tried to keep his eyes open, it was of no use; in the end he fell asleep, his eyes closed and his lips slightly parted. He was simply too exhausted.
Raven smiled down at her brother, smiled and tugged the blanket higher, then she stood up and placed the book on the nightstand. "Sleep well, my dear brother." she whispered, sadness in her voice.
She was on her way down the dim lit corridor as Sean walked towards her, almost running, his green eyes serious. It was odd to see him so serious, normally he was such a cheerful guy. But, who could be cheerful right now, in those times?
"He's back." Sean whispered, nervously looking over his shoulder as if he was afraid that he would appear right behind him. "He's in the yard..."
Raven narrowed her eyes and gave the redhead a nod. Both went down the stairs. The door opened as Raven reached the lower floor.
He stood in the doorway, his face an emotionless mask. The dim light of the hallway was reflected by the helmet, his cape blowing in the wind.
"Erik Lehnsherr." Raven more than growled, walking up to Erik who met her gaze unaffected by the anger in her voice. "Explain!" She hissed, poking her index finger into his chest. There were tears of anger and despair in her yellow eyes, tears that she could no longer supress. "Explain why it is necessary start a war!"
He did not answer.
She knew the answer already.