Kay, I just realized I forgot my disclaimer last chapter... I don't own X-Men, or the characters. If I did, I'd be rich and not writing fanfics...
Also, I thank you for the reviews. Seriously, that's what keeps me posting my stuff. I cab easily write this for me, I'm posting it for you. So if you want me to keep it going, you got to let me know.
On another note. Sorry it takes so long to upload, I like to make sure I edit it, double edit then even get a friend to proof it before I post it. I'll try to update a little faster next time. Work is kind of harsh on my right now. ANYWAYS. Hope you enjoy this Charles POV chapter.
Charles couldn't sleep. He rarely slept and, when he did, it was usually when he nodded off for only a few moments before he shot upright awake again. He was plagued by nightmares and he felt too vulnerable asleep. He liked to make sure Hank and Sean were doing alright… At least, that was what he told himself. Truth be told, even he was finding it hard to function. He'd lost count of the weeks spent in the 'rehabilitation camp'. He'd stopped counting after three. What started as temporary was starting to look bitterly permanent. Not to mention that some mutants just seemed to vanish. The sickly ones, weak and worse off just tended to just...vanish. Charles was quickly coming to terms with what he believed was the goal of this camp.
To kill them all.
There would be no investigation. No one pointed out the missing faces. No one cared as much as Charles did. He didn't need to be able to touch people's minds to see their pain, feel their hunger and hopelessness. To be completely honest, he couldn't handle it anymore. He couldn't handle being locked with all these people, unable to do anything to help. The thought made Charles close his eyes, pulling his knees up against his cold chest again. He suppressed a shiver, wrapping his arms around his legs, trying to ignore the gross feeling of his ribs pressed against his upper thighs. Above him Hank snorted a little in his sleep, shifting a little. Charles was glad the kid was getting some rest. Charles shivered, unable to hold it back this time, and he snuggled further back against the wall, into the shade of his cot. It was never going to end. It was hopeless. He was useless. There was nothing more he could do. Not for him, nor for Hank or Sean.
He'd already lost Alex, had long since lost Raven. He hoped to the high Heavens that Erik's out of state trip had kept him safe… But he wasn't willing to hold onto such hopes. They never really helped make the situations any less dreadful. These thoughts haunted the telepath's mind a moment before his neck jolted upright, his eyes snapping open. He'd drifted off again. He breathed out a slow growl of disapproval before lifting his gaze to the tiny, barred window his sleeping quarters offered. Or at least the sleeping quarters for that night, they changed on a regular basis, but he tended to stick with Sean and Hank. He wasn't sure where Sean was, he'd gotten ushered into a different room before Charles could catch him. There was light seeping in through the window. Daylight. It was morning already. And as if on cue, the sound of locks being unbolted creaked from the door to the cell-like room. Hank snorted again, the bed shaking as the younger mutant sat upright. Charles could see his feet hanging over the edge of the bed a moment later. The door opened slowly, and a guard stuck his head in. As always, the guards looked cocky, proud. What with their dull olive uniforms, and matching hats. And the rifles. Though Charles had heard some say they were more for show, they didn't carry bullets. Not in this section of the camp, they were only for the more rowdy mutants. They did carry tasers and pepper spray however, as Sean had learned the first day they were there….
Charles felt his heart squeeze at the memory. Alex had valiantly protected the smaller mutant, but none had seen him since. The shouts, the howls of pain, the sight of Alex's face being beaten in with all the brutality of… Charles didn't even know what to compare it to. It was painful to just watch, heartbreaking as the blond had been hauled off.
"Oi. Get up, sunshine," the guard chuckled, banging the edge of the door with his hand. Charles knew the drill, and did as he was told. He pushed himself from the bed a moment before Hank hopped down from the upper bunk. Charles reached over to the end of his bed, fingers snaking around the cold object there. A moment later and the glasses were neatly on Hank's nose where they belonged. The two walked in silence as they were shepherded into the growing group of mutants. Some, unlike Charles and Hank, were talking in low voices. Charles' mouth felt far too dry and bitter to speak.
"You look awful, Professor… Worse then usual," Hank murmured from beside him. Charles blinked, looking over and up. Hank's face was looking forward, but his features were clouded with concern. "You need to sleep. Eat more."
"There's not enough food as it is…"
"Sean and I aren't eating yours anymore. You need it too," Hank argued. "And you have to at least try and sleep once and a while."
"I am fine, Hank. Thank you for your concern. But I am fine," Charles argued sharply. His voice was quiet and lacking real authority. But he was firm on where he stood and that was enough for him. Apparently, it was enough for Hank as well, seeing as the other mutant merely closed his mouth with a sigh.
Despite the argument, Charles picked at his food without little real interest. In all honesty, he should have been starving. Being stuck in this camp had gotten rid of his appetite entirely. He frowned down at the mush that the guards called oatmeal. He poked it with a spoon, his vision blurred as he just stared at the light lumps. Beside him, Hank was talking to Sean in hushed tones, but Charles couldn't really focus on what was being said. Well, he wasn't paying attention to the specifics. He could hear the difference in tone between the tones, but he couldn't bring himself to listen or join in. He lifted his arm, propping his chin up on his hand, bracing his elbow against the wood as he continued to poke at his food. He was tired, but he couldn't sleep. He was hungry, but he couldn't eat. He wanted to know what was wrong with him, but he didn't have the energy or drive to fix the problem. He wanted to, if just for the boys… But they seemed to be coping alright.
A loud ringing sounded through the mess hall, echoing off the hard walls, right into the ears of the mutants residing there. Charles winced a little at the fire-alarm like ringing, his head tilting as though that could block out the noise. It didn't, of course. Beside him, Sean grimaced with his mouth full as Hank lifted his hands to cover his ears, hands vanishing in his lanky, brown locks. The bell shrieked a few minutes more before it cut off, the echoes bouncing around the area for a moment after. The room stayed silent for a second before the sounds of scrapping and murmurs refilled room. It wasn't nearly the buzz a cafeteria would hold, but it was better than the silence in Charles' opinion. He got to his feet, as everyone else was doing as the door to the mess hall opened. Breakfast was over, and it was time to go to the holding rooms. Sean pushed close against Charles' back, hands gripping the waistline of his pants as to not get separated. Hank's arm bumped against Charles', though he didn't hold on to him. Charles certainly hoped when winter came they would at least get shirts.
As the mutants shuffled from the cool room, the guards pushed them either to the left, or the right. The left side would go outside, to enjoy the late summer sunshine. Any that were pushed right would go to the inside holding room. Charles had once preferred the outside cage, if just because it was different from the rest of the white-walled building. But now he didn't really care, he just shuffled along, eyes lowered to watch his feet. This was the norm, and that was how the telepath functioned day in and day out. You know, if one could call it functioning.
The many bare feet slapped against the ground as the murmurs and mumbles fell away. Groups clustered tighter together, like he and the boys. But that was why there were guards in the centre, they broke up the groups. Charles wasn't sure if there was a real reason for it, or if they just enjoyed it. The humans grunted orders, threatening in low tones as they lifted their rifles and batons.
As they approached, one moved directly towards Charles and pushed him to the left so hard that the telepath stumbled a little bit before catching his balance. Sean's grip on him slipped and he was tugged to the right, smacking into Hank to send them both to that side. Hank moved forward, trying to get by but backed away sharply as a baton was shoved at his face with a low growling warning. Charles lifted his gaze, shaking his head slowly, silently saying they would find each other at dinner. After all, that was the only time all the mutants in his quadrant of camp were all together.
It was bright outside, almost too bright. The grass was course, bristly and scarce. Charles could recall there being a quite nice lawn when he'd arrived, but neglect had let it shrivel into nothing. He was currently seated on one of the prickly patches, pressed into the corner of caged area. His back was flat against the wall of the building, his left side leaning into the fence. Above him, the sun beat down and the only shadows offered were those from the fence's chain links and the barbwire up top. He could hear low voices complaining, but Charles honestly didn't really feel the heat. He was too busy staring through the fence. It was another holding pen, but one that wasn't usually used. That much was obvious by the softer looking grass that resided there. It was also smaller. Charles imagined it was a solitary pen. He'd never seen it in use however.
Charles' eyes shut slowly, the world blurring into blackness as he drifted off again. Unfortunately, it lasted for only a moment before the sound of a door slamming open jolted him upright. Sharply inhaling in surprise as his heart skipped a beat, he looked back at the door in alarm. Noticing that it was still closed, he blinked blearily at it before hearing a grunt on his left. He turned his face that way, eyebrows lifting in surprise as three guards lugged a body through one of the other doors. The two doing the dragging were snarling jibes in the mutant's ears, despite his obvious near unconscious state. Charles felt a swell of pity for the man. His hair was brutally cut and his long, toned but thin body was covered in bruises and cuts of varying age. Charles' eyes swept the body as he was tossed to the ground, before the telepath closed his eyes to hide the pain. It was bad in their side, but the others faced much worse. He didn't dare open his eyes, unable to bare looking at the poor man.
"Get off me," came a hoarse, low snarl. That snarl made Charles' eyes shoot open in an instant, even if he remained facing down. He knew that voice. His head slowly moved upright as he pushed to his feet, peering through the fence as his hands tangled themselves into the wire. The mutant on the other side pushed to his hands and knees, spitting a mouthful of blood and saliva on the ground before his head turned to face the smug guards. His lip was split, his one eye turning deep purple-y brown but despite that, Charles knew that face.
"Erik… He breathed. Part of him was thrilled at the sight of his friend, but that part was overshadowed quickly at the situation at hand. One of the guards lifted his foot and stomped on Erik's back, sending the already battered mutant to the ground.
"Stay down if you know what's good for you," the shorter of the guards laughed, leaning over to grab a fist full of Erik's hair to pull his face upwards. "One more stunt like what you pulled back there and you'll get put down," the man warned with a touch of amusement in his voice. Charles' brows furrowed - the guard looked like he too had been through an ordeal, his nose looked broken in the very least. He gave a short and grim smile at that, dropping it quickly as he watched with horror.
Of course, Erik didn't stay down despite Charles' silent pleading for him to follow the orders. A baton smashed against Erik's side and he went down again, causing Charles to wince as though he were the one in pain. He could not just stand there. He had to do something else. There was no way that he was just going to watch as Erik was beaten to death. It shocked him to see Erik so easily bested. The man was so much more then what he had been reduced to. Charles' gaze flicked downward as he looked for something, anything that he could use to distract the guards. The fist-sized rock that was just a couple feet away would suffice. He leaned over and scooped it up, hefting it to judge the weight before stepping a few feet back. He furrowed his brows as he concentrated deeply on the aiming. Sports were never his strong point, but he hoped the little bit of throwing history he had would be useful. He lobbed the rock with more power than he thought he'd had and watched as it soared over the fence. Despite the aiming, he missed his target but the rock did smack into the lower leg of another guard. The man let out a yelp and all eyes snapped to Charles.
There was no way the mutant could have pretended it wasn't him. The other mutants in his cage were all staring at him, mouths agape. Charles swallowed roughly before he moved, picked up another stone and lobbed it over the fence with more force. This one missed entirely, but the anger that covered the men's faces was more than a clue that he had succeeded in his distraction. Another mutant picked up a stone and hurled it over too, his aim far better than Charles'. This rock managed to hit the guard that Charles had originally aimed for square in the face. The rocks were too small to do much damage, but they did enrage the men.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" One of the guards yelled as he approached the fence. Charles looked from the man to Erik, catching those stormy eyes with his own for just a fraction of a second. The yelling of both the guards and a handful of mutants soon had the door to the enclosure open and a handful of guards swarmed in. Charles backed away but only got about a step before one had his arms pinned back behind his shoulders. Charles cringed in pain, yelping lightly as he was pushed towards the door. His arm was pushed further upright, causing another yelp to crawl from his throat.
"We do not tolerate the harm of our officers," the guard snarled into his ear, shoving Charles through the door and up against the wall on the opposing side. He pushed Charles' arm further behind him, towards the opposite side until a sharp popping-crack sounded. That sound was very nearly completely drowned out by the howl of pain that accompanied it. The guard dropped the telepath into a heap on the floor before gesturing for one of his lower officers to come. "Take him next door. He wants to act like them, he'll stay with them," the guard growled. "Bring in the next one."
Charles held back a slight whimper as he was pulled to his feet, and shoved down the hallway. He held his arm to his side, tears remaining damned at the edge of his eyes as he moved. There was no doubt that his shoulder was dislocated. That much he knew. He had gotten their message, loud and clear. He listened now, following the guard like a dog while chomping his bottom lip to hold back his tears. He felt more alive now in the state of pain then he had in weeks, but he almost wished to go back to that time before he'd thrown the stone.
The guard pulled out some keys as they arrived at a barred door in the middle of the hall. On the other side, a guard leered through, eyeing Charles with smirk. Charles was relieved to see it wasn't one of those that had been outside. He didn't want to know what they would have done to him… His guard unlocked the bars, shoving Charles through and into the arms of the other guard. "Come on, sweet heart. You're just in time for lunch," the man chortled, smacking Charles' lower back with the butt of his gun to keep him moving forward. As much as he felt the dread from the simple tone of voice that the guard used, he couldn't help the low smirk as he realized that he might be seeing Erik soon.