Anote: I agree with my reviewer Tono's pizza Delivery , time to put the steps in place to spring Erik from this cage.

Chapter 6 – Truth or Dare part 1

Next morning, wood shop class.

Erik would have preferred anything besides wood shop that morning. Something mindless like polishing the auditorium's large glass windows, would have been a much better activity to match his present mood of distraction. If it wasn't for Matt, hissing at him every five minutes warning him to be careful, he would have already sliced of his finger with one of the table saws.

He wondered what Charles was doing. Probably the man was cursing him even now for wasting his time but perhaps even worse, Xavier was not thinking of him at all.

The prisoner caught the wad of sandpaper that his colleague tossed in his direction. Today they were repairing furniture for one of the state run orphanages and Matt had finally decided to commandeer the saw and swap assignments so now, Erik was sanding the wood preparing for a varnish.

Much better.

Now the older man was able to let loose the storm of thoughts that raged in his head without fear that he would cause himself or his cellmate bodily harm.

Erik was still going to take the test but he didn't give himself a fighting chance, not without the Professor.

'Dammit,' he whispered under his breath.

What had he done? Had he been too hasty in sending his teacher away? Of course he had been, but at the time he had let his fear control him; fear that Charles may have gotten hurt, decide his actions.

It was strange because he was sure two years ago he wouldn't have cared. Two years ago, he would have used and summarily discarded anyone who could get him closer him to Shaw without a second thought. Prison was supposed to make a person hard but it seemed to have mellowed him. Or was it something else? Perhaps it was a short, blue- eyed, whirlwind of energy who believed with every ounce of his being that Erik could be a better man. It was perhaps for the best though, because Erik hardly believed that the professor would cheerfully approve of the real reason that he wanted out of the prisons. Now as it stood, Shaw was still as far out of his reach as he had become the day that Erik had been sentenced. Always his schemes of vengeance against the bastard had given Erik clear focus but not then, not last night.

Charles had not called him back. It was what Erik wanted in his head but it was not what he wanted in his heart. Now that he had sent him away, the older man realized with a deep clarity that his teacher had filled a void of intimacy and closeness that had long stood empty, the absence of which now pressed on him most keenly.

It was the one thing that repeated itself over and over in Erik's mind as he plodded along, back into the interior of the prisons the night before. He just knew in his mind that the Englishman had watched him walk away, because the silence had clung to his back and shoulders like a living thing; sorrowful, angry and terrible all at the same time. He had come to the conclusion that he must have suffered some sort of mild shock because he couldn't remember collapsing into his bunk, but he thanked god for a dreamless night of sleep. He had no doubt though, that the professor would find his way into his head soon enough; to join the nightmares that involved all the other important people in his life, who for some reason or the other, he just couldn't hold on to.

Erik grunted as Matt poked him in his side with a bony elbow causing his melancholy musings to evaporate.

'Something's up,' the boy whispered.

Slowly Erik craned his head to catch a glimpse of what had caught his cell mate's attention.

A small knot of guards had gathered in the doorway, conversing earnestly in hushed tones. They appeared to be in disagreement.

'Stay with the class,' Officer Pratt finally declared to his fellow officers. 'I'll find the director.'

Erik wondered if he had imagined it, but he was sure that in the brief second that Pratt turned to walk away, the officer's eyes had been seeking his face.

In the meantime, a few buildings away, one tired and exhausted professor of biology squinted at the door of the waiting room as FINALLY someone, hopefully the director, was coming to give him an answer.

To say he was beyond disappointed when Officer Pratt entered the room would be a gross understatement.

The guard looked down at the file infront of him, scanning it quickly, 'Mr. Xavier?'

'Professor Xavier, my good man,' he corrected tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose. 'Is the director on his way?'

The officer ignored the question as he continued to read the papers infront of him.

'You're giving Lehnsherr extra lessons?' he inquired almost boorishly with a defiant look on his face. 'Why?'

Charles could see why Erik found the man's company distasteful.

'I would rather wait for the director,' the Englishman answered in his usual well mannered tones, which his American university colleagues fondly referred to as his "old fart" voice.

The officer turned an odd color of puce at the politely couched dismissal. 'Look boy...professor …whatever, the director is on his way but he is going to tell you the same thing I am saying. This isn't a hotel. You can't just drop in whenever you feel like it.'

Angrily the officer stomped closer in a pure show of intimidation.

'If you want to see Erik, you have to explain yourself to me!'

'Do I?'

Officer Pratt turned purple.

'It's an academic emergency,' the Professor finally admitted, resting a hand on his briefcase. 'I have found another teacher for Mr. Lehnsherr.'

'Well you have wasted your time. Erik's not going to be taking any more lessons from now on. Understand?'

'Oh I think he will. He has an interest in leaving this facility and frankly…' Charles looked the other man up and down disdainfully before finally reading the prison guard's name tag, 'I can't say I blame him Officer Pratt.'

With a raised eyebrow Charles stared at the man's now white face. If the officer wasn't carefully he would soon have a stroke.

'What did Lehnsherr tell you?' he yelped unexpectedly, grabbing his baton at his side in a seemingly reflex action. 'He told you didn't he?'

What on earth?

Charles moistened his lips slightly. Erik rarely spoke about personal matters and this opportunity just seemed too good to pass up on. Whatever Erik supposedly knew clearly had the power to rattle the man infront of him. Charles had walked away last night with the distinct impression that Erik had been afraid of something. Did Officer Pratt know the reason?

Charles decided to play along, 'Yes, he told me everything.'

This evidently was the wrong thing to say as the prison guard reached out to grab his forearm in a painful grip.

'Lehnsherr is telling you a pack of lies and I hope for your sake that you haven't told anyone else.'

'Unhand me sir!' Charles cried out trying to get free and in the midst of the struggle, the professor elbowed the man in the face. With a grunt of pain Pratt twisted the other man's arm and Charles buckled to the floor with a scream. The professor had learnt some nasty underhanded fighting tricks in his time at Oxford but before he could demonstrate the finest that Cambridge had to offer, Erik barreled into the room and the hit the guard with all the force of a speeding truck.

TBC