After that last monster of a chapter, I'm not at all sure how long this one's going to be. I'll just sort of play it by ear, or eye, or finger, or whatever it is I'm playing by.

Thank you to all subscribers, reviewers and favorite-ers! You are my inspiration and I love you all!

Erik's eyes never left Charles's face. He felt the powerful man staring him down as the three were hauled from the ocean and deposited carefully on the deck, the crewmen shying instinctively away from Erik's imposing presence. He exuded such an aura of menacing might that everyone, including Moira and the man in black, steered clear of him. Charles may have given this a bit more thought on any other occasion, but he was quite preoccupied at the moment and Erik Lehnsherr was soon forgotten.

He clutched Ellie's drenched and fragile form to his chest gently and gazed down at her in confusion through the odd white lighting from the ship's searchlights in the black of the night. She hadn't moved a muscle since being pulled from the sea, and it was really beginning to worry him. Her mind was silent, the ever-present emerald flare and sweet tang of apples on his tongue where nowhere to be found. He had no idea how or where to take a bird's pulse, nor how to tell whether or not she was breathing, and his own pulse was starting to quicken as he waited for her to come back to him.

Blankets were brought, torches were lit and outer layers of clothing were shed, and still she did not wake. Raven came rushing up onto the deck and knelt beside him, scolding frantically and demanding to know why he'd been so completely brainless, but he really did not have the time nor the attention to spare to deal with her. To be honest, he was more concerned with the prone form of his best friend in his arms.

"Please, Raven. They were drowning," he told her, emphasizing to himself and the osprey in his arms the word 'were'. She would not die today, could not die today. Desperately, he cast about for something to do, anything! But there was nothing he could think of. The only experience he had with animals had come from Ellie, but she was in no condition to advise him. His mind was working overtime to try and come up with some solution, moving so quickly that thoughts were no longer forming completely before launching about inside his skull and sending him into a strangely dazed state. It was difficult to describe. He was at once going about a million miles per hour and unable to move at the speed of snail.

For once in his entire life, Charles Xavier was completely and utterly helpless.

"Is she alright?" Raven asked fearfully, reaching over to stroke Ellie's little wet chest.

"I don't think so," Charles replied absently, his brows knitting together as he scrambled for a solution in that massive mind of his. His face remained a stoic mask of serenity, but it was only to hide the turmoil he truly felt inside. The osprey's pale body was pitifully small in his arms, and still, it did not move. He swallowed, shoving the sorrow and panic back down. He refused to believe that it would be today. He absolutely, bull-headedly refused.

It's not time for you yet, he thought, but he knew he was only trying to convince himself. Not time yet. You can't die…

You can't…

We need you…

I need you…

With every rapidly increasing beat of his heart, he pressed his thoughts in the direction of her mind, not knowing if they'd found purchase for there was no mind left there to feel. He might have sat there for an eternity, or a mere matter of seconds, before his sister's voice penetrated the fog of fear and hopelessness that was settling over him.

"Here," Raven said in a very business-like manner, snatching Ellie out of his hands before he could even protest. "Let me see her."

Charles watched, transfixed as Raven wrapped the towel a bit tighter around the bird's body and began to rub vigorously, repeatedly sliding her hand up from her belly to her ribcage in a smaller and gentler version of the Heimlich maneuver. She did this several times, alternating between that and making little circles with her hand. He reached over to help her, rubbing Ellie's back and drying her wings, careful not to pull out any necessary feathers. On about the fourth cycle, an emerald spark flickered feebly in his mind vision and the taste of apples joined Raven's rather peachy flavor. Raven let out a little gasp and doubled her ministrations, now using both hands to massage the bird's body.

Then, in a great babble of animal instincts and fragmented human thoughts, Ellie lurched up and gave a mighty bird cough, water streaming from her wide open beak.

"There we go!" Raven exclaimed, patting the bird's back to help her expel the last of the sea water. "That's a good girl. You're ok, you're ok," she chanted softly, her hands and voice trembling with relief. Charles himself let out a massive breath that he hadn't even known he'd been holding. Ellie settled down in the nest of a towel and blinked up at them with her huge, yellow eyes while making small and unbearably cute bird noises. Smiling a bit to himself, he stood, (yes, he is man enough to admit that he was shaking all over from relief) gathering the bird and towel into his arms and thinking, Don't ever do that to me again.

What? She thought back wearily. I never knew you cared so much.

Of course I do, he thought back softly. You're my best friend.

If birds could cry, this one certainly would have. A hard and painful lump formed in her throat, and any reply she might have made was stifled by a surge of emotion so strong that Charles felt his knees buckle beneath him. Instead, she blinked at him with sleepy eyes and sent him an impression of happiness the color of a new sunrise, and a taste reminding him of his favorite candies overpowered his senses for a moment. It consumed her in that one moment, a joy she had never truly known before, and Charles didn't have to ask to find out why.

She'd always known she was part of their little family group, but at the same time she had always felt expendable, as if they didn't love her quite as much as they did each other. In four little words, he contradicted everything in her shoddy memory of family, and she felt well and truly loved for the first time in her life.

Charles nearly had to wipe a tear from his own eye at the sheer outpouring of happiness that flooded his mind and his heart, but he didn't. Charles Xavier was much too strong for that. Instead, he smiled down at her and scratched the place where her head met her neck as the surge of emotion faded and she lowered her head and fell asleep.

OxOxO

It is dark, so very dark. There are no lights here, for they do not want us to feel hope. I know my eyes are gleaming, though I can't see them. They catch the tiniest traces of light, like the lion or the wolf, and in the deepest darkness, they glow. I cannot see much, just vague and motionless outlines of the others, locked in their own cages. They have been broken. Just like me. They make no sound, not even a whisper and Silence shrieks deafeningly in my ears. She is not interrupted, even by the scuttling feet of the rats that visit me in this place of darkness.

The steel of my cage floor bites into my skin and the heat presses in on me, stifling me, suffocating me. But I do not feel it. Not anymore. I do not feel the drip of the sweat down my back and I do not feel my many raw wounds. Perhaps the sweat is truly blood? I do not know, nor do I care. They will fix me, then tear me down again.

Silence is killed as the fan kicks on, drawing my splintered attention back to wetness dripping slowly down. They spare nothing, not even her. If it is even possible, the air grows still thicker. It coagulates in my throat, blocking it. My chest tightens, squeezing. I beg for release, promising anything, everything just to live. But there are no pacts between lions and men.

Damn you for reminding me of my own wretchedness. Damn you all…

Damn you…

He is the saint, I am the sinner, and I must be punished. He has not a face, only eyes and claws and teeth. With a word, he inflicts agony, and a thousand of them whisper sweetly in my ears. They are like tiny golden feathers, lifting me, buoying me in a vast red sea of nothing. Nothing but pain.

He speaks again, this time a million of those sugar-coated words burn into my very soul. They steal black blood from a body with nothing left to give. Blinding white light, all around. It flares, stealing the sight from my eyes and blocking out the sound of my own screams.

Those eyes mock me, with their icy blue depths…

…like a summer rain.

Ellie!

What monstrosity is this? A word that doesn't burn. Spoken from sweet lips like petals against my soul. But what does it mean?

Those eyes, they are not his eyes. They are…!

Ellie lurched forward, darkness overwhelming her and a horrid shrill ringing in her ears, her throat burning like a thousand stinging insects were buzzing around in there.

"Ellie!" A shout from a deep voice broke through the shrill ringing, and that's when she realized it was her screaming. Her eyes flickered open and the darkness fled, replaced by the dim, grey room below decks of the Coast Guard ship. Her heart pounded violently in her chest, and she sucked air raggedly into famished lungs that felt as if they hadn't seen oxygen in years. Her tongue lolled out as she panted, eyes spread wide and pupils fully dilated as they darted from place to place and she desperately tried to convince herself that the nightmare was over.

But suddenly she wasn't staring at the bland, military grade room anymore. She was staring directly into the high quality fabric of a black suit jacket that smelled heavily of fine cologne with a hint of scotch. She didn't even realize she was shaking until his strong body, a rock in a turbulent sea, steadied her. She didn't know she was weeping until soft, pale fingers wiped the evidence away. She closed her mouth, closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose, drinking in his scent and using it to ground herself in the here and now. His warm arms enfolded her, and she clung to him like a life preserver, using him to chase away the demons hiding in the deep recesses of her mind.

Something soft and warm pressed into the mess of her hair as the image of a calm pond pressed into her mind. "It's alright," Charles whispered into her ear. "They've gone now. You're safe." His voice was soft and soothing, and before she knew it, the demons had fled, her breathing had regulated and her heart had slowed back down to a safe pace. With one last drag of Charles's sweet, familiar scent, she straightened and brushed herself off, most decidedly not looking at him.

Heat rushed to her face and she began to fidget anxiously, lamenting in her own weakness. She should not have to depend on him like that. She wasn't some helpless child who needed to fall into someone else's arms after an insignificant nightmare. Charles was not stronger than she was. She was steel and had been for thirteen years. She depended on no one. She was the bear and the wolf and the lion and the ox and the eagle all at the same time and she needed no one but herself.

"Yep," she said sharply, standing quickly and patting Charles once on the shoulder. She didn't see the stricken expression on his face as she fled the room, desperate for escape from her own weakness.

By the time she reached the deck of the ship, her reckless fit of pathetic-ness had ended and her emotions were safely back where they belonged. Her legs felt a little wobbly and her chest ached just a little, but no one ever would have guessed at the way she held her auburn head high, her back straight and her shoulders rolled back. Her emerald eyes flashed with their usual fire and her full, pink lips were set into their usual line. She raised an arched, reddish brow at one of the sentries and put a little swing into her step for his benefit, although the effect was somewhat lessened by the limp brought about by her damaged hip. She pulled her jacket tighter around her against the late night chill and lost herself in the uneven, hollow clicking sound her heeled boots made on the metal deck. Her eyes caught the light from the ship, and she could see every detail as clear as daylight. She knew from experience and the way that everyone flinched back from her that they were luminescent. She nearly smiled at their fear.

She might have too, if she had not run smack into a solid wall of masculine muscle coming around the next corner.

An indignant and quite unattractive cry of surprise escaped her throat when her backside landed solidly on the cold, hard floor. The sharp tang of steel assaulted her nose, but she couldn't be sure if it was coming from the very nicely built male that had just mowed her over or the floor he had landed her on. She was inclined to assume the latter. People didn't smell like steel. Or did they? After all of the odd happenings of the past few days, she wasn't so sure about what was possible and what wasn't anymore.

"Oh, excuse me," she said, forcing a chipper politeness into her voice that she really didn't have at the moment. While she was still itching for a chance to prove her strength to the universe, she didn't really think that this was the time, the place or the proper opponent. She would bottle that anger, that raging inferno, and when they finally caught up to Shaw, that's when she would set it free.

She peered up at the dark headed man through the blinding glare of the ship's lights, squinting to try and stem the flow to her sensitive eyes. She'd expected an outstretched hand, a chivalrous gesture that any gentleman would be more than willing to offer, but found none. Instead, he glanced down at her with cold indifference in those gunmetal grey eyes that made her heart skip a couple of beats. Without another word he raised his eyes, stepped around her and continued on his not-so-merry way.

Ellie's mouth flopped open in disbelief and her brows knitted together indignantly as her eyes blazed with annoyance. Her mind literally could not wrap itself around the fact that this man had just stepped around her and walked away without a backward glance, and her coherent thought process came screeching to a halt, flushed with choleric heat. The result of this was a highly ridiculous sputtering sound her mouth made as it tried to form words that her brain could not. An odd noise reached her that most (well, all) normal humans wouldn't catch, but her hypersensitive ears were far superior to human ears. In her incredulously infuriated state of mind, it took her a moment to identify the sound as laughter.

The asshole was laughing at her.

Red tinged the edge of her vision, and it took every ounce of willpower she had in her body to keep from shifting. Fortunately, her anger brought clarity and she found herself able to speak once again.

"Sir!" she shouted to him with a molten iron edge to her voice. Her tone more than the fact that she was trying to get his attention, actually got his attention. He turned to face her slowly, disdain and annoyance written in every contour of his handsome face.

You catch more flies with honey, she told herself. And this is one fly I would very much love to catch.

"I'm sorry sir, but would you mind helping me to my feet?" she asked sweetly, sugary innocence dripping from her voice and infecting her expression with its deceptively cloying aroma.

He wasn't even fazed. "Can't you get up on your own?" he asked, truly and utterly bored.

"Not without a great deal of pain and strain, actually. Help me and I'll show you why." The sweet, sticky candy in her voice hardened and took on a far-too-sharp cinnamon edge.

He studied her for a moment, his eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly as she tried to corral her eyes that so desperately wanted to wander. She tried so hard not to notice the incredibly thick, dark and smooth head of hair he had, and she did her best not to focus on the way every muscle on his made-of-stone body peeked out at her through his skin tight black turtleneck and open tan jacket, made even more prominent by the harsh lights shining down on them through the steadily receding night.

She was not succeeding.

With a palpable annoyance that radiated from his every surface, he moved forward and extended a single hand, staring down at her with a smirk he didn't even try to conceal. With a dazzling smile, she took the hand and used his immense strength to haul herself to her feet. It took nearly a full minute to get the bad leg up underneath her, but after much cracking of damaged tissues and gasps of pain, she managed to stand erect once again.

She was pleased to see that the contempt had slid off of his face once he realized that she really couldn't get up on her own. Hm, maybe there was some compassion in there after all.

As quickly and painlessly as possible, she turned and lifted the edge of her blouse over the damaged hip. Her skirt rode low enough on her waist to reveal the majority of the mangled tissue without her having to pull that down as well.

A deep scowl settling into the lines in her face, she looked back at the man and settled her hands on her hips, daring him to make an asinine comment. To her surprise, he did not. He only nodded indifferently. Well, it was a better reaction than the one she'd been hoping for.

"I really appreciate it…uh…?" she reached out her hand for him to shake as she reached for a name. With no other name to place on him, she decided to call him Asshole in her mind.

And she wasn't about to know either. He only scoffed and blatantly ignored the proffered hand, once more moving to go about his business without another word.

By God! How incredibly rude could one man possibly be? We-he-hell, she would beat some manners into him if she had to, and she was not leaving here without at least a name.

Quick as a flash, she sidestepped and cut off his retreat, assaulting him with the full blast of the infamous Ellie glare. Her eyes blazed up at him through her auburn brows like a wolf eyeing its next meal. In a mind-blowingly stupid move, he coolly met her gaze in (what her animal mind deemed) an unwavering challenge.

Heat consumed her every molecule, her blood boiling like molten lead and her rational thought process beginning to slow. She fought with all of her strength against the change she felt beginning to slide over her skin like an old friend. It was sweet, so delicious, its power, and it took everything she had to ignore the beast's call.

"Sir, I would be incredibly grateful if you would just give me your name and avert your eyes," she said in a dangerously quiet voice forced out through a clenched jaw.

The man's expression still did not change and she could almost feel the air temperature drop. He simply scoffed once more and looked down his nose at her, the contempt flickering back into place as if it had never left. "And why on Earth would I do that?" he asked with a hint of cruel amusement in his voice.

Ok, she would give up the name if only he would stop looking at her. Her own eyes were locked on his, and no matter how hard she tried, she could not tear them away. "You're challenging me, and as part animal, I must accept. If you don't look away someone will get hurt, most likely you." Her voice leaked desperation as her thoughts became even murkier, a red smog settling over them and turning them to pure, primal instinct.

Please look away, please lookaway pleaselookaway pleaselookawaypleaselookaway!

Her muscles were screaming in agony, and trembling with tension she could not afford to let loose. Tears glinted in the corners of her eyes from the sheer effort she was expending to try and close them, but the beast had tasted its opportunity for escape and would not go down easily. She was getting harder and harder to control, Asshole had mere moments before the point of no return was passed and she would consume the human.

No! Please! She didn't want to give in, she would not break! NO! I will not I will not! Please, oh please, don't let me kill an innocent man, even if he is an ass! Please look away, I can't hold out much longer, she's consuming me, all that I am, all that I was is her. She is wild I am wild we want fire we want blood. Challenge, must fight. Teach this young and insolent pup manners.

Dear God! she pleaded. Please don't let me hurt him, don't let me…

Charles, help me! Please!

With the last ounce of self-control left in her body, she screamed out to him in an act of complete and utter desperation.

Then, the beast took her.

Heat. Fabulous, delicious, malicious heat. I am the fire that consumes the forest. I am the wolf that stalks its prey at midnight. I am ferocious, I am powerful…and it's just so good! Claws on the floor, teeth against my lashing tongue, hackles prickling as they rise, ears laid flat and body trembling with excitement. Cells raging, bouncing…fire all around…consuming…fascinating…delicious.

There, target. Unruly pup. Insubordination. Eyes, all engrossing. Gunmetal grey like ice. Fire must decimate ice. Teach it who's boss. I'm boss. My pack. My rule.

Stealth, moving forward, muscles rippling smoothly. Fluid machine. Eyes locked. Claws on the floor, hackles raised, teeth bared, tongue lashing. Target still. Rage. Fire. Fight. Target still. Still…still…

MOTION!

Leap, paws ready, itching with thrill as the chase begins. Prey running, moving, fear in those gunmetal grey orbs. So delicious, mouth watering. Claws through flesh, the scent of blood, the sound of torn fabric. So foolish. Tried to run. Falling, down, fangs above face, claws in flesh. Low vibrations deep in chest. Deafening to own ears. Lips drawn back, eyes flashing, fire raging. Prepare to strike, to kill, to…

BLACK!

Sight gone, sound gone, scent gone, touch gone, taste gone. Beast gone. She slides back into her hole as all sense vanishes. I feel her lifting, leaving my body burning, my hip pounding with agony. Her anger leaves me, for there is no longer anything for it to burn. I can't see him, can't hear him, can't smell him, can't feel him, can't taste him. In the beast's mind, he is gone and her job is done.

Charles watched with wide eyes as the wolf disappeared, leaving an exhausted and hurting Ellie in its place. As soon as the beast was safely caged once more, he left her mind, the stinging, biting instincts leaving him raw and bleary. She looked up at him from where she was on her hands and knees, shame overcoming her like the tide, an unstoppable force. She hung her head low, and her body convulsed with horrid, heart-wrenching sobs.

Oh, dear Lord. Ellie did not cry. Ever. To see such a stone creature reduced to a blubbering mess was a humbling experience, to be perfectly honest. His heart broke for her, but he did not move. She would accept comfort from no one now.

Erik sat up slowly, his eyes trained on the girl, no longer apathetic but wary. He'd seen her power, and as adamantly as he would deny it, she'd frightened him. For just one instant, Charles had witness real fear in the mind of a man who hadn't felt such an emotion in decades.

And Charles would never tell a soul.

Ok, so I'm not at all sure how I feel about this chapter. I like parts, I don't like parts. I went for a bit of angst here, never tried it before so sorry if it sucked. This is also unbeta'd, so if anyone would like the job and is pretty good a writing, I'll take what help I can get.

Constructive criticism is crucial to my continuing with this. I need to know what you think of my attempt at some emotional stuff, so tell me! Love it, hate it, whatever.

Thanks to those of you who have reviewed and I did not get back to you personally. I've been super busy lately with college starting up next month, so I will try to get around to it soon!

Don't forget, twenty fifth reviewer…