He was dying, and now the idea wasn't as comforting as it had been. Charles would be alone, left without his anchor, his lover, his best friend. Charles would be angry with him, would never forgive him for leaving. He had to get out of here, to save himself. To do that, he had to move. He tried to pull his arms back to lever himself up, but his left arm didn't seem to be there any longer and his right was too heavy to lift, as if concrete had been poured over it and set to the floor. He started to panic; if he couldn't move his arms he would never get out of here, he'd die on the cold, damp floor of this abandoned place. Charles would find his body and he'd be as broken as Erik was.
He struggled then, against the forces holding him down, against the weakness of his limbs, against the fire in his chest. But eventually he lost the fight, collapsed back down, tears leaking from his eyes. He couldn't move. He couldn't leave. He couldn't save himself.
In a far, dark corner of the cabin, the little girl watched the dying stranger as he twitched and moaned, but his movements were tiny, his sounds barely mews. She wondered if others would come and curled deeper into the shadows.
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Taking a hurting telepath anywhere should be labeled 'DON'T' in blinking capital letters. Bright colors, too. But Hayes had never done it the conventional way all her life, especially after discovering her gift. Fat lot that did her right now.
Charles sat slumped in the passenger seat, eyes closed, visibly fighting nausea and pain. Getting him from the hotel room through the lobby and to the car had been adventurous, to say the least. It was an understatement. Hayes had never really inquired too deeply into the relationship between the two men, but she knew it was tight. What she was currently privy to was more than that, though.
They had been cruising through town and Charles had tried to concentrate on finding their missing team leader.
"Prof?"
She had stopped at the deserted resort and was consulting her map. There were half a dozen cabins here; a dozen more that were privately owned.
"I could need some help here. Any way to give me a hint as to where to go next?"
Charles opened eyes that were red-rimmed and filled with a shared pain no one could imagine. He looked out the window, then raised two fingers to his temple. Hayes watched, frowning, aware that he was using his abilities to scan the area.
What she didn't expect was the way Charles' face twisted in what appeared like pain, a gasp escaping his lips.
"Professor?"
He still scanned, fingers at his temple to help him focus, but his eyes remained screwed shut. His free hand lay clenched on his knee and he was started to breathe harder, almost irregular.
Hayes grew worried. This was real pain, physical pain, not some kind of migrainish backwash.
Then his eyes snapped open, pupils blown wide, and a scream escaped his lips. Hayes was too startled to react when the telepath threw himself against the passenger side door, falling out of the car and onto the ground.
"Shit!" she cursed and scrambled out the other side. "Shitshitshit!"
Charles lay curled up in the mud, the drizzle covering him in a fine sheen of water.
"Professor!"
Fists pushing against his eyes, Charles was desperately trying to breathe normally.
"Professor!" she tried again. "Charles, please, talk to me. You're scaring this girl."
He lowered his hands, red splotches on his face around his eyes. "Erik… I felt him… he's hurt. Badly hurt. He's… there's something…"
"Do you know where he is?" she interrupted him, voice hard, pushing through the haze.
"Abandoned cabin. Private property." He swallowed hard, shivering. "Not far."
"Sure?" she asked.
"Mostly. The last images... were of something old. Broken." Charles buried his head in his hands, nails digging into his scalp. "Cabin in the woods," he managed, then groaned.
"Charles!"
Hayes reached out and curled a hand around one wrist to pull it away before he did any damage. She got a jolt, like a transfer, and briefly saw what looked like the movie set for a horror film. Old cabin, abandoned, muddy ground, broken trees.
She let go of his hands in shock and tried to steady herself. "Geez, professor, warn a girl!"
He was breathing hard. "Sorry. I didn't mean to…"
Hayes closed her eyes. "Okay, no sweat." She ran a hand over her hair. "Okay. Now… cabin. Old, rusty, bad horror-movie cabin."
And it was getting dark. Not to mention the drizzle that was coming down. So much fun.
"You should stay here and…"
But Charles had already pushed himself to his feet with the help of the car. Hayes bit back a curse.
"Professor!" she called.
"I'm going, Hayes," he told her, voice suddenly very hard and steady. His eyes were like granite. "He's here and he needs my help. I'm going."
And then he set off like a missile homing in on something. Hayes sighed deeply.
"Not what I signed up for!"
But she followed.
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His dreams were of drowning, the welcome embrace of the water, the flood of his lungs, the darkness edging inwards from the corners of his mind. He wanted it, welcomed it. Then there were arms around his neck, dragging him back towards the surface, and the voice of an angel in his mind dragging him back towards consciousness.
Erik opened his eyes and groaned. He was hurt, he was dying. He knew it in his heart, but his mind wasn't ready to give up. He seemed to be clinging to the idea that Charles would find him, which was ridiculous, because if Charles was able to find him, he would have done it by now. Still, maybe in his last minutes he could finally allow himself to acknowledge the hope Charles had been to him ever since the moment he'd dived into the freezing ocean to save him.
There was a sound, no louder than a breath, but it caught on Erik's wandering attention and forced him to turn his head, to stare into the darkness of the cabin. He couldn't see anything, but somehow he knew she was there, the girl they'd been looking for, the girl who was responsible for his death. He tried to speak, but all that came out of his parched, raw throat was, "he-".
He couldn't even manage the full plea, which was pathetic really. He was pathetic. He wasn't worth saving. Finally it was all over and Charles would be free of him.
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Charles didn't know where he took the strength from to just walk. One step in front of the other, heading up a path that led deeper and deeper into the forest, away from the resort. He was dimly aware of Hayes following him.
His mind burned. Everything was a jumbled mess, originating from the severed strands of his anchor line. He had known the anchor would be dangerous, the permanent connection to another mind, but Erik had felt needed. Erik had been needed. Erik's mind, as sharp and dark and complex and deep as it was, also represented safe haven. Erik was everything for the telepath that he had never had before.
He was safety and protection and he was strength.
Charles smiled thinly.
Born out of necessity, Charles had taken what he had needed from Erik who had been unaware of it at the time. He had needed the counterbalance, the rawness of Erik's anger and rage, the control he exuded, the coldness and sometimes even the ruthlessness. They were good together; balanced.
Now he was alone and for the first time in four years he felt off kilter. Not even before Erik had he ever been hit this bad this fast. He wasn't even aware of Hayes' mind, the wound burned so badly.
The brief moment of contact with the familiar mind had nearly been the final blow. Casting around to find any trace at all to follow, to find Erik, he had encountered pure agony. Never in his life had he ever touched something like this. Maybe because it had been Erik; Erik's pain; Erik's familiar mind that was in such agony… Charles didn't know. He had only been able to scream, part of him taking in the information the contact provided, but a huge part was simply overwhelmed and wanted nothing more than to shut down.
But he couldn't.
Erik needed him.
::Erik?:: he tried again.
The answer was a cold, cutting pain that had him stumble and flail, hitting a tree with one shoulder. Hayes caught his elbow and he sobbed with relief when her mind cooled down the fever in him.
"Professor, please," she begged.
But Charles couldn't stop. Erik was here, he was hurt. Badly, badly hurt. He needed help and Charles needed to find him.
Blinking into the falling dusk Xavier tried to get his bearings. Hayes uncertainly looked at her map, then at the path.
"This is private land, professor."
He pushed away from the tree, nearly tripping over an exposed root.
"Professor!"
::Erik?:: he tried again.
It hurt. It was like walking on glass with your bare feet. It was excruciating and he should be able to switch if off if he only put half a thought to it, but to sever everything…
Charles balled his hands into fists.
He couldn't. Complete separation was out of the question. He could use the failing anchor line to find his partner and he would do it, no matter the migraine to come. Homing in on the faint pulse that was Erik he stalked down the path, Hayes in tow.
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He saw it as a blinding flash of light, a flash from the severed connection with Charles, like a sparking electric cable. His conscious mind wasn't aware, but unconsciously he picked up on it and his mind played out a couple of memories; Charles smiling at him over the chess board and a couple of dry gin martinis, Charles' face close enough to kiss him, Charles' thoughts mingled with his own; that sense of belonging, of warmth and of safety. And strength.
Charles was gone from his mind, but what they were together remained, and Erik began to draw on that. He knew Charles would be tearing the planet apart searching for him, he just needed to stay alive long enough to be found. While his conscious mind remained trapped in nightmares and pain, his subconscious willed him just to keep breathing.
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Hayes looked at the cabin, feeling a shiver run down her spine. She had never liked horror movies and this was too much of one. With dark approaching and the rain still coming down, the mud squelching under her boots and the dead trees, this was way out of her comfort zone.
Charles was next to her, one determined telepath who didn't know the word 'stop'. Hayes had never had anyone mean that much to her. She had always been better off alone. Relationships meant risks; in her past line of work risks needed to be minimized. Even now, at the school, she wouldn't elevate anyone to the level of close friend. Trust was never lightly given and if she trusted anyone at all, it were Xavier and her own team.
This whole situation she didn't trust.
"Professor, I'm getting some really bad vibes from this," she said.
A low level empath, she didn't sense matters as clearly as a full empath would, but she had vibes. They had served her well in the past. Now she was close to turning tail and running. Only one thing kept her here: Charles Xavier.
"Something's here," Charles said, voice sounding strained.
"No kidding."
He touched his temple with two finger tips. "It's still not clear. I can't touch the mutant. But…" He cried out and doubled over, hand scrabbling against the bark of a tree. "Erik!"
And then it was there.
Huge and impossible and roaring. Hayes fell back with a cry of surprise. She had never seen anything like this. She couldn't describe it.
Charles was breathing hard, fingers digging into his scalp. A low moan left his lips.
"Professor!" she screamed and tackled him when the thing swiped at the defenseless man.
Bark rained down over them. They rolled through the mud and came up hard against another tree.
"We gotta get out of here! Now!"
The monster hissed, lumbering toward them.
"It's not real."
Hayes stared at him as if he had lost his mind. The thing looked very real to her, gigantic and evil and smelling bad. It was slobbering and flexing impossibly sharp claws, just looking for a new victim.
Charles was looking at the thing with feverish blue eyes as he stumbled to his feet. "I can't feel it, Hayes. It's not there!"
"Professor… I can see it. I can smell it! It's right there."
But Charles apparently didn't hear her. All that kept him upright was the tree at his back and he was staring at the slobbering beast with confusion. Then he looked past it and blinked again.
"Erik?"
Damnit, he was losing it again!
"We don't mean any harm. Please… Let me see Erik?"
What the…? He wasn't looking at the thing. He was looking at the cabin. That derelict thing that looked close to a collapse.
"Please," he whispered, sounding broken. "You can go. Just go. But let me see him."
The monster rumbled, knife-like talons flexing.
Hayes swallowed hard.