A/N: I am completely lazy. That's my excuse. I have most of the chapter ideas planned out, but I had trouble writing them up. Here's a short chapter. Not much happens here, to be honest.
Reviews would be very awesome. And please, let me know if I had any spelling/grammar errors.
I also posted pictures of how Anna looks like on my profile, so go check that out.
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
"Oh!" gasped Anna, "I think, I—I'm going to hurl!"
"What? Now? Here?"
She opened her mouth to answer Raven's question, but abruptly clamped her lips shut. Her blue eyes grew wide as the meal they ate a few hours ago began its way up her throat.
Raven cursed, "Do you remember where the toilets are?"
Her headache worsened as a pounding formed between her eyes. She forced herself to swallow the saliva that began to pool in her mouth—a sure sign of an ugly outcome. A frustrated sigh sounded from her lips when she failed, once again, to read the mind of a nearby agent.
"I-I can't. I don't feel good . . ."
Like many times before, Anna cursed her lack of ability to control her powers. For instance, when she was stuck on a problem or two on a test, or when an ex-fling approached her. Concentrating on someone's mind was the last thing she wanted to do at the moment. She grasped onto Raven's shoulder as the ship rocked heavily against the waves once more. Unable to handle it anymore, Anna rushed to the nearest door, flung it open, and vomited all over the cheesy, generic carpet.
It was a sight to see; Anna was situated on all fours, puking her brains out. Raven stood behind her, face scrunched up as she held in her breath and avoided looking at the scene in front of her.
"I think I should get an award for 'Best Sister'," Raven grimaced as she held back Anna's hair.
More vomit and a few curses later, Anna wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She stood up with Raven's help and the two surveyed the scene in front of them.
"Maybe we should—" started Raven.
"—Yeah, we definitely should."
They swiftly exited the room and shut the door behind them. Anna breathed in the salty air and fell back into a siting position, and leaned against the adjacent wall. Raven rolled her eyes before she sat down beside her.
"Why did you let me eat those pancakes," wailed Anna.
She pouted and slouched against the wall, resting her head on Raven's shoulders.
Raven scoffed, "You say that like you would actually stop eating."
"Fifteen pancakes, Raven! FIFTEEN! I did the impossible."
"Charles and I told you to stop after the fifth one—"
"—I can't believe you guys let me eat that much—"
"—Charles literally had to use his powers on the waitress to deny you pancakes—"
Anna wiped a fake tear from her eye, "—I can't trust you guys anymore!"
"Oh, shut up," Raven rolled her eyes, "You have vomit on your cheek by the way."
Anna narrowed her eyes at Raven distrustfully before she hastily wiped her face, "Okay. I trust you again—but I will never trust Charles!"
High pitched giggles and a grunt alerted Charles, Moira, and the other agents on of their arrival. They turned and half of them watched on with amused looks as the taller blonde dragged the smaller one up the flight of stairs to the deck. Rosy-cheeked and glazed eyes, everyone can see that Anna was out of it.
"What did you two do?" demanded Charles, "Please tell me you guys didn't drink."
"As if the had anything good—," Raven coughed awkwardly into her hand, "I mean . . . Well, you see, she was feeling sea sick . . ."
"That was you?!" an angry, dirty agent shouted angrily.
Charles sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead. He was starting to regret bringing them along. A few hours in and they managed to get into some sort of trouble.
As they got older, the two girls became used to Charles' varying disappointed glares. The two of them quickly came up with a scale called, "The Charles Xavier Glare-O-Meter," which they regularly used to scale his disappointment toward them.
In this case, his pointed glare told Raven two things. One, it told her to continue. Two, it was a six on the meter, which meant that he wasn't angry with them, but he'll definitely mention it again in private.
"Well, this agent—Anderson by the way—thought he gave her some medication for it, but the moron gave her a sleeping pill."
They turned to look at Anna who was now falling asleep against a struggling Raven. Moira looked at Charles, silently judging how he would handle the situation. Charles opened and closed his mouth, before sighing in annoyance.
"Bring her inside and let her sleep it off," he ordered and pointed to Raven, "And stay with her."
Raven narrowed her eyes, "Okay, dad."
With the help of a reluctant agent—ordered by Moira, of course—the two of them carried Anna inside one of the rooms. He dropped her like a sack of potatoes onto the couch and brushed past Raven, ignoring her heated glare.
"Thanks," she said sarcastically, "You're such a gentleman."
The agent's hand clenched against the metal handle of the door. He clenched his jaw and turned to look at her. The moonlight that shone through the glass windows casted a dark shadow on his face. Even in the darkness, Raven could see the different emotions that flashed across his face. An apologetic look that quickly became one of disdain.
"Look, I did what MacTaggert wanted. I just can't see why we need the help of . . . people like you."
Raven stared at him with a blank expression. He took her silence as an end to the conversation and slammed the door shut behind him.
It wasn't the first time Raven encountered mutant hatred, but it was the first time it was directed toward her.
If he were the average person, Erik would've keeled over in embarrassment. Shaw was literally right in front of him, and he made a foolish mistake. He boarded the yacht without a logical plan, which only resulted in his downfall.
He didn't know what he was thinking when he tried to stop the submarine from escaping. All he knew was that he wanted to kill him in anyway he can—even if it meant doing something as stupid as risking his own life.
Erik can vividly remember his eyes and lungs burning. His brain was shouting at him to let go, "Let it go! Can't you feel that pain, you idiot? Live!"
And as cliché as it sounded, his cold, bitter heart was the one that told him to hold on to that damn submarine. For every time his brain screamed at him, images of the concentration camp and the death of his mother would flash behind his eyes. It was enough motivation for him to hold on.
He was too busy analyzing his mistakes to notice the soft footsteps that approached him. Quiet murmurs left his lips and he shook his head in frustration. Unexpectedly, a glass of liquid was shoved in his face.
"I'm sorry," she said, "The variety of German beer was very limited here. It's scotch."
Their fingers brushed together momentarily before she sat down on the uncomfortable metal chair next to him. While her eyes were glued to the stars above them, Erik kept his eyes forward, staring at the pitch-black darkness that surrounded them. It was quiet between the two of them before she spoke up.
"I'm Anna by the way," she adjusted the blanket that draped over her shoulders, "Charles' sister."
"I thought the other blonde was his sister," he replied absentmindedly as he took a drink from the glass.
Erik noticed her slight falter before she nodded her head, "Raven's the youngest. Luckily for me, I'm the middle child."
"What," he said teasingly, "Mummy didn't pay enough attention to you?"
"Hm. Something like that."
When he didn't reply, Anna subtly looked at him. His dark brown hair was still wet and he wore an extra pair of clothing they found on the ship—all colored black, of course. His emotionless blue eyes and seemingly permanent scowl intrigued her. The faux relaxed posture could've fooled people, but he was obviously ready to face on any type of attack. Although he intimidated her, she was curious.
The low voices that woke her up a few moments ago came back. She bit her lip in annoyance when she realized that it was Erik's voice in the back of her mind.
"Your thoughts are very loud."
"Excuse me?"
He looked at her in confusion before he comprehended the words, "Let me guess; you and your brother share the same abilities."
A faint smile formed on her lips and her eyes were casted down at the wooden deck, "Pretty much. What's yours?"
She watched as he brought his hand toward her, the palm of his hand faced her and his long fingers were spread apart.
Nothing happened.
"Do you want a high-five?"
She squinted her eyes in confusion as she looked between his outstretched hand and his face.
'Is this guy's power the ability to persuade people to give him a high-five? Why do I have a sudden urge to slap his hand?'
He merely smiled at her before a loud screeching sound rang from behind her. She gasped and looked around wildly for the source.
The metal stool that sat on the other side of the deck was suddenly a few feet away from her. Anna whipped her head back to look at Erik—both were surprised she didn't get whiplash. With wide eyes and an enormous smile, she looked at him eagerly.
"How did you do that?" she breathed in amazement.
Erik took another drink of the scotch and placed it on the glass table between them. He looked down at his hand as he flexed his fingers.
"I can sense metal all around me," he said, "It's like a natural reflex. I don't even have to think about it.
"And I can just control it," he finished impassively.
He watched with concealed amusement as she scoffed and rolled her eyes at him.
"Tell me! Do you just say, like, 'Metal come here!' and it happens?"
"No."
"Were you injected with metal and your body adapted to it, resulting in your metal abilities?"
"Yes."
"Really?!"
"No."
"How about an encounter with a . . . radioactive . . . metal . . . bug?"
"Are you serious?" His scowl sent her into a fit of giggles.
"Bathed in chemicals?"
"I'm not going to tell you."
As time went on, Anna's theories became even more ridiculous. Erik didn't know what to make of her. From her position on the chair—legs crossed in front of her and a blanket wrapped around her shoulders—she didn't look threatening. Blonde hair pulled into a messy ponytail at the top of her head, and sleepy eyes, she looked . . . average.
'She's definitely not like Charles,' he thought, 'Charles . . . almost radiates with his ability. He has control.'
"Fine. I didn't want to know anyway."
Despite her very convincing statement, Erik watched as she stood up.
"I should head back to bed. Captain thinks we'll be docking in a few hours."
Anna shot him a small smile before turning to where the rooms were. She walked a few steps before tripping over the metal stool Erik had brought over while demonstrating his abilities. He shot up in alarm—not because she fell—but because she moved the stool with a wave of her hand.
With his very own eyes, she saw as her hand shot out as she fell. The stool flew off to the other side of the deck before landing on its back.
Erik didn't catch her second goodbye, as his eyes were fixated on the stool. He blinked in shock, and sat back down, swallowing the rest of the scotch. A sinister smile formed on his lips. In the span of five minutes, Anna suddenly became much more interesting.
Yes, Anna Xavier would be a great asset to his plans.