Erik was rushing forward with grim delight. His mind has immediately perceived the situation, but he wasn't able to say what he was going to do exactly. Anger, potent and sharp, was clouding his vision as well as newly awakened bloodlust was making his blood boil. Erik has nearly lost his concentration due to unhealthy excitement. It might have cost him his life. Erik managed to brake his fall by chance – he was this close to death – he should stop. Cautiously, he leaned against the scratchy trunk of the tree. Why did he rush ahead like this? Surely, he wanted to help Charles…but. But, to tell the truth, he was not acting like a sensible person right now. That won't do. Absolutely not! He is going to get himself killed before he gets a chance to rescue Charles.
Finally, he has chosen the most sensible option he could think of. Erik must go back to read the traces more carefully now. There was a slight chance that Charles has escaped – unlikely and yet… He must be quick – no one knows how much time Charles has.
From the very beginning of their would-be friendship, Erik has indeed felt some spark of interest, perhaps, even sympathy towards Charles. After all, Erik could easily pinpoint loneliness when he saw it. Again, his reaction was too excessive for simple tolerance. In fact, he was extremely surprised on the ship – his violent, forceful reaction in response to Cane's ambiguous threats, has woken his other side – the one, which had to be buried long ago. That time, he barely restrained himself from killing.
Anyway, Erik's inner turmoil is not important now. Charles is a good man. This is more than enough. Charles' sincerity and goodwill … it was truly rare. Well, he sighed and strained his senses. His ability to think was slowly coming back. In a minute, Erik smirked and braced himself.
He had an idea.
ooo
oo
o
Charles resigned to regain consciousness; he wholeheartedly wanted to sink into blackness again. But dizziness and constant stabs of pain were already clawing their way through the forefront of his mind. Sticky, aching tendrils draw him up and up to the world of living. Opening his eyes took some effort. It turned out, he was currently sprawled on the ground and if he was correct… Charles squinted at the sun. He has been out for a couple of hours. He tried to shift and for a moment was blinded by pain. No one has bothered to tie him up and if he was able to stand, he could attempt to leave.
If only no one noticed.
Charles was clumsily trying to help himself up with his good hand, when he heard heavy steps on his left.
'You're lucky,' Madrox uttered with mock wariness. 'I'm yet to keep you alive.'
How am I still up and going – mused Charles after another hour of a seemingly never-ending route. Eventually, his stupid heart was seized by growing fear. He could guess what was waiting for him ahead, though he didn't want to. Didn't want to think, because it was more horrible than he could contemplate…
In time, their squad became surrounded by obviously hostile natives. There was no doubt that their spears were useless and Shaw's men could've easily cleared the way. Still, Shaw spoke to the leader with faked respect and calm – never interrupting another's wild gesticulation.
They've reached a consensus and the chief – the one with monstrous necklace – made a grand gesture to follow him. Right, they were probably not far from the settlement. One is good for sure – they would stop soon and Charles would be able to pass out from exhaustion. Just a little bit more. That's what he wanted prior to anything – oblivion and… some water to drink. Yes, perhaps, water comes before oblivion.
The rest of the road was a blur of images, voices and stabbing pain.
Somehow, Charles found himself leaning against the rusty pale of some obscure origin. His hands were tied in front of him now and Charles couldn't look at his injured hand without cringing. He wasn't a doctor, but he could name a hopeless case when he saw one. He has mustered a shaky smile – better not mull over it now. His right hand was currently numb, awfully swollen and, well, he doubted that he'd be healing completely, not without immediate medical assistance. Nonsense, Charles is soon to be dead – there's no need to worry about the functionality of individual limbs.
Gradually, his mind was retreating into a strange foreign dimension. Charles was still here but at the same time he wasn't. It seemed that he has fallen out of reality for a brief moment. He was forcibly woken by Shaw, who dragged him up like a kitten – as if he weighted nothing at all.
'Professor, this is an honor for you,' he smirked. 'My decision to spare your life has been correct. They agreed to provide us with their services as long as someone joins the meal tonight. And can you guess who will that be?'
The implication hang heavy in the air.
Charles tried to remember how to breathe.
He really is going to die one of the most agonizing deaths in the world – he realized with finality.
Shaw barked out a few words and two men quickly dragged him to a pole in the center of the settlement amidst low huts.
Charles couldn't feel his body anymore.
Every hope, he desperately clung to, has evaporated.
No one… No one will help and no one will know.
Something snapped in him, some vital part which let him keep a resemblance of composure even in those circumstances. He couldn't pinpoint where he was anymore. Present and past has intertwined. Here was his father, straightening his coat in front of the large hall mirror – the last time he and mother were attending a ball in the city together. And at the same time there was Shaw's voice – he heard a distinct arguing. He saw the atrium – the one which became his favorite – and felt a pang of regret. He's done so little. He hasn't taught that many students to be called a professor, but he wanted to. Through the haze he saw the tribe preparing for ritual, but at the same time, Charles was playing chess with Erik, helping Moira to arrange healing herbs while listening to her Logan-related stories, and … sitting near the campfire with Hank and boys.
Darkness fell upon settlement very quickly.
Shaw and his group were nowhere to be seen. The whole tribe gathered near the big fire feeding it from time to time.
Charles came to himself when he felt hands on him. He was being touched and probed in a way that suggested that those people have already considered him a big piece of meat. Still alive, but who cares. They are trying to pick a better piece, he assumed. Good luck with that, thought Charles with dark amusement. He has definitely lost a couple of pounds here and there – Shaw managed to sweet-talk the chief into a poor deal.
Next time he opened his eyes to see dancers moving around the fire. Their dark bodies glistened with sweat and red and yellow sparks of fire beautifully illuminated the picture. If I saw it without realizing the full extent… he caught a lonely thought… it would seem gorgeous, perfect.
Dancers were speeding up their movements. Women and children joined the circle. Charles closed his eyes – he won't look. He doesn't want this sight to be the last thing he sees, the last he remembers. He'd better turn blind. The darkness at the edge of his mind rippled like a sea and breathed him in, in and in.
Piercing, inhuman cry broke the rhythm of the drums. After a moment, the same cry echoed from the other side of the jungles, surrounding the settlement. Anxiety sparked among people and music stopped. The third cry, near the fence, made several women scream in fear.
The spell was broken.
Jungles woke up. The growling rumble reached the fence. The chief was shouting orders, unaware of silent shadow watching him from the tree. Beasts were already there – they tore down the fence and stormed in like a wild fire, bringing chaos and death.
Hell broke loose.
ooo
oo
o
Erik planned to disturb gorillas – he noticed a couple of families nearby. About thirty individuals. He knew how to make them enraged – had a lot of experience. If he wanted to be discreet, there's nothing better than good old commotion. Animals did exactly what he needed.
He task was to run with everything he had in the right direction. That didn't exactly work swiftly, but nevertheless he did it.
He must hurry, he must come on time.
Erik was ahead of angry animals but not for long. He climbed the tree, worried and acting solemnly on determination. Frantically, Erik looked around.
At last, he found the one who made him do the craziest thing in his life. In the bright light of fire he distinguished the familiar figure, tied to the stake – and barely resisted the urge to jump to the ground and kill, bite, brake, ripe the insides… His temper flared, but he stood still. Be quiet. Erik repeated to himself over and over. Be quiet till the moment is right.
Furious gorillas broke through the fence and the moment came.
Erik rushed ahead, pushing panicking people to clear the way. He picked up the knife, hit the man who was staring at him with wild eyes and gutted him without remorse. No one must notice him. Erik kept the knife – he won't have time to untangle the knots.
When he reached the pole, he slumped to prisoner's back and called out:
'Charles, can you hear me? Don't let them notice that I'm here. I'm cutting the rope…' blade was only shredding the edges and Erik growled, enraged.
He strained his hands and ripped the damn rope in half. In no time, he had freed strangely unresponsive Charles from the bonds and was not exactly ready for Charles to go limp in his arms.
Erik muttered profanities under his breath – he should've realized that Charles was unconscious. If not dead… He stomped the treacherous thought. Cruelly.
Next, he carefully deposited Charles with his back to the pole and tried to feel for a pulse – he was taught some things by the family doctor. A lifetime ago. Charles' body swayed and Erik had to lean him on his chest. His gaze took in darkened traces of dried blood on the right temple and one more time Erik was grinding his teeth in cold fury. Charles was breathing. Not good. Too slow, but Erik was relived. Right now, having unconscious Charles in his care, he must be even more cautious.
He escaped the place in a rush, paying no attention to surroundings. Erik is responsible for his friend's life – he has to survive this madness intact. He passed the last hut and was on his way to the forest when the arrow hit the tree inches from his hand. Damn! He forgot about those, who escaped to the forest. Erik darted behind the tree. He couldn't abandon Charles – not even for a moment. Fighting is not an option. He planned the whole affair to avoid it, because Erik was strong and capable, but he was also realistic. Jungles were his ally. Open spaces filled with hunters who were equipped with bows and spears were not.
A horrendous cry interrupted his feverish thoughts.
Erik tightened his hold on Charles and glanced back. He stared in disbelief. Big panther was shredding the convulsing body on the ground. Its' teeth tore at man's throat until he finally stopped writhing and stilled – a bloodied mess on the ground.
Cat growled and turned in Erik's direction.
He froze under the yellow gaze, wondering what it was going to do to them.
The panther walked next to him, its fur almost touching his bare skin and disappeared into the night.
Here goes his cavalry.
New ally gave him strength and Erik ran away from the cursed village at top speed. He made two short stops to rest. Charles didn't wake up. Erik grew tired. Charles' unresponsiveness frightened him, but the idea to go and find his companions from the ship was dismissed as fruitless. They let this happen to him, what more harm are they capable of.
He reached his house before dawn.
Erik deposited Charles on the single bed with utmost care. He stirred a little when Erik tried to cover him. That's good, decided he. That probably means that he's going to wake up soon.
He fetched himself some water.
His moves were sluggish, but Erik remained on his feet. This was a very long day. Erik prepared the brew but fatigue caught up to him right then. He fell asleep on the floor – he didn't dream.
Erik was awakened by the chant of birds from the outside.
He quickly got up.
Charles moved in his sleep – his arm was hanging over the edge of the bed. In daylight, Erik was able to see him more clearly. He didn't like what he saw. Charles' face was gaunt and terribly pale, lips cracked and bitten. Erik gently turned his head to the side. Nobody bothered to clean the wound on the temple. It was messy, but only superficial. He needs to clean wounds at first, later he'll see what can be done.
He brought water and started to unbutton his shirt. Erik gulped and narrowed his eyes – he couldn't quite understand what was that. The purple stain on Charles' chest. Awkwardly, Erik touched it when he tried to lift off the fabric. Charles moaned in pain and tried to pull away – only partially aware of his surroundings. Erik stopped, not sure what to do next. He noticed the different breathing pattern, tightly shut eyes and realized that Charles is fully awake.
'Charles, this is Erik. From the ship. Remember our first meeting in the ocean? I promise, I won't hurt you. You can open your eyes now. Can you hear me?...'
It took Charles long to figure out what to do. Erik remained by his side but didn't do anything.
Finally, those bright blue eyes, bloodshot and dulled with pain now, found his face. It seemed that Charles had a trouble focusing. Recognition dawned on him and shadows left his gaze. Charles looked at him and then he tried to smile. Sheepishly.
'Erik, my friend… So glad to see you again…' his hoarse, strained voice had nothing in common with rich intonations Erik remembered and admired.
'Do not talk, drink.'
For some reason that sounded harsh, but Charles gratefully complied.
Erik had to assist him though.
When he refilled the mug and put it on the chair near the bed, he was startled by a sudden inhale.
Charles?
He was staring at Erik with naked fear in his eyes, shivering.
Erik swore and sat on the bed next to him. He heard the muttering '…not real…mad…' and frowned. What was Charles thinking?
'Charles, calm down. You're safe!' Erik didn't dare to take him in his arms and shake. Honestly, what does he have to do?
'Charles, we're in my house. You're safe. Let me help you, all right?'
He got a forlorn look in response but Charles nodded and attempted to sit. They managed to get rid of the shirt together. Erik froze when he saw a wound. The burn wasn't bigger than a size of hand but it was deep and turned a disgusting shade of purple. Bruises on his sides were telling tales.
'Erik, don't look like this… This is… I almost,' Charles paused to breath in, 'don't feel anything.'
Erik clenched his free hand. He would gladly pay those bastards a visit and exchange some experience in torture. He said the last part aloud, because Charles hastened to reassure him:
'No, Erik. It's not like that. Captain Shaw… We hired him to escort us. But he, Erik, he went mad…' Charles coughed.
Erik made him lay down and gestured to stop talking. Again, Charles obeyed.
He started with the temple. Erik applied a salve, which he previously made for himself. He used the same medicine local tribes and animals used and hoped it'd be enough. Charles silently watched him with odd expression. He not so subtly flinched and soon groaned when Erik decided to take care of his injured hand. It was mangled – he couldn't find a better word. His barely restrained anger resurfaced anew. He could only imagine the pain caused by such cruel intentions.
'Maybe, it isn't too late to do something,' whispered Charles feverishly.
Erik ached, so much he wanted to tell him to shut up this instant.
'… though, my friend, I've never been so glad that I'm equally adept in the use of both left and right…'
As if to make it worse, Charles tried to smile through a grimace of pain.
Erik saw white.
Fortunately, Charles soon fell into a heavy, troubled slumber. Erik was currently mulling over their prospects. There was nothing to eat in the house – he needs to go. But. Erik looked at Charles' prone form. He hesitated. Clearly, he'd better not leave Charles alone, but he'll be back in no time. Even before he wakes. With that Erik stood up.
Charles was safe here.
ooo
oo
o
Logan was gloomier than usual. He sniffed the air and told them that he needs to check the way. That's how they've lost precious few hours. Hank told him about that stranger from the tree. He was jumping like a monkey, Jesus. This forest is full of craziness. It grows on the trees…
So, that was herr Eisenhardt and he met professor on the ship. Hank thinks that professor saved his life. Alex wanted to believe that he was gone so abruptly because he was in a hurry to help. But again, what can one person do. Well, one person without superpowers, because people with those freaking abilities were practically everywhere.
There's nothing impossible, indeed.
Logan staggered into their improvised camp site when the sun was not far from hiding for the night. Smeared in blood and dirt he stated, that someone has stirred the forest and they have to find shelter because soon there will be fun. Yes, that was the word he used.
Obediently, they did as he told. Logan found a small cave and they spent the night there. Alex promptly slept on the ground and regretted it in the morning. It made him felt twice older and he ached all over.
Before they approached the cannibals, Logan said, that he would go first alone. Alex volunteered to join him immediately and Logan, giving him one odd look, agreed. Alex's elation quickly evaporated.
'Well, what did you see? Did you find Charles?' that Moira was awfully calm. Alex hated her and respected her at the same time. And she was also crazy, he'd bet.
'Goddamn monkeys! Xavier was with them in the village or what's left of it,' Logan pulled out a cigar and lit it.
Jesus Christ! He gets them out of nowhere!
'No one can read the traces now. Locals are hiding in the woods. I can't distinguish them after a while. Too much of everything.'
Involuntarily, Alex shuddered.
He thought that after the massacre near the river he saw it all. He was wrong again. Nothing could've prepared him for the sight.
'There are no white among the dead, so we assume that Xavier's alive and that they went on…'
'Sebastian is clearly on the way to the Lost City. The treasures are calling,' smirked lady Emma.
'He's not himself. Something is so wrong with his head,' muttered Logan, seemingly to himself. 'He forgot the first journey, forgot his name. Even I don't remember the way, though the rest of the memories are intact…'
'I'll provide a map,' lady sweetly uttered and added. 'Only, the half is mine. This's a fair deal and you'd better agree before I change my mind.'
'Where did you get it?' asked Moira skeptically.
'Everything's in here, my dear,' she gently tapped her temple. 'Once Sebastian was fatally careless and I took a look. And just so that you know – my memory is flawless.'
'I didn't realize that your line of work requires fine memory.'
Moira cut in only to be interrupted by Logan.
'Hey, Moira, chill out. Do I have to remind you that this is not a time and a place?'
Emma smiled triumphantly.
'Anyway, map is good but not complete. We need this watch for a reason!'
'Wait, lady Frost!' Sean started to speak and Alex turned in his direction.
Sean, unusually quiet and dispirited, was looking for something inside his bottomless bag.
'Oh, here it is! I thought, I'd lost it.'
Sean pulled out a thing on the chain that turned out to be a certain golden watch with deformed lid.
Logan cursed, aloud. Moira didn't even reprimand him this time.
Emma smiled and mildly commented:
'I can see your game now, professor.'
ooo
oo
o
Erik miscalculated, because when Charles opened his eyes, he was alone in the house. He quietly stared at the wooden ceiling. His mind – a slow flowing river with headache currently underwater. Charles remembered that Erik gave him a drink with strange bittersweet flavor. Medicine, perhaps. He was on the verge between sleeping and waking – recent horrors flashed before his eyes, but there was Erik. Oh lord, Erik. He, out of all people, came to his aid. Charles was so happy that he started doubting his sanity.
The first person he has seen when he thought he wouldn't be seeing anything or anyone anymore.
The hut was cozy and small. The room was a size of a bathroom in his old house. It wasn't new, so Erik must've found it.
Charles looked around. There was a small table, two chairs and some shelves with strange objects, which he wouldn't touch if asked. Furniture was hand-made – not especially nice but solid. It looked like someone was going to spend a lot of time here. Something similar to cupboard stood next to the bed. There was a book on that one if he's right. Charles will ask Erik how he found this wonderful place later.
After a while, Charles was tired of staying in bed. He decided that short walk around the room will be in order. Charles braced himself and carefully got up. A wave of dizziness and fatigue washed over him, but he stubbornly stood upright. He caught breath and made a small step, tracing the headboard with his left hand. Charles wasn't worried by Erik's absence. He'll come back soon, Charles knew it. Also he knew that Erik wouldn't have left him without a valid reason. He will wait.
More than that, he doesn't know where he is and has nowhere to go.
Charles peered in the small window and froze, fascinated.
The sight was spectacular. Charles opened the door and breathed in – that was the most beautiful scenery he has ever seen.
Luckily, he managed the tricky stairs even in his poor condition.
The house stood in the very depth of the jungles, perfectly isolated and guarded by the nature itself. He watched birds of various colors and thought that he had no idea those existed.
Oh my, this's... suddenly Charles had to gulp down a lump in the throat... too good to be true. Calm down... Just calm down. His treacherous heart decided to listen to him once in a while and he stopped hyperventilating.
Splendid.
He's definitely not well, but at least he could be. If he tries, that is.
Charles patted the nearest tree for good measure.
Birds proved a necessary distraction. After a while he reasoned that water has to be nearby – he'll look, one look and he'll be back.
He was right. A small pond attracted lots of tiny tenants of the jungles. They were not scared of him and Charles lost track of time observing the pond from his vantage point. Eventually, he kneeled on the ground.
What if Erik comes back and thinks that he's gone? He won't appreciate it. Charles didn't want to upset him – he felt that he's already made Erik angry, only he wasn't sure how.
Charles smiled – he felt light and warm thinking those thoughts.
He turned around and his eyes met unblinking yellow ones of the panther. It appeared so close to him that he could feel its breath on his face.
So beautiful, he thought and he's such an idiot…
His heart stopped when panther playfully bumped its head and its wet nose nuzzled his neck. Incredible, but Charles has heard a quiet growling. He wanted to cry and laugh with relief. The panther sneezed and tried to butt head him. Charles fell back in surprise. The melodious rumbling went on and this time he laughed. It was purring like this and if he's still alive that's a good sign, isn't it? He hesitantly reached out and felt warm, thick fur beneath his hand. It was so pleasant. Charles became bolder – he drew his hand back and put it on panther's neck this time, which caused a new bout of amazing vibrations.
ooo
oo
o
Erik was on the verge of panic when he found the house empty. He darted along the trail. Charles' steps led to the pond. The sight before him made Erik stop in his tracks. Fear took hold of his body and he silently stared at Charles on the ground and a big black panther – the panther from before – looming above him.
He didn't have anything. No knife and no spear – and there was no chance on earth that he'll get close on time. Right now, Charles is in mortal danger and he is unable to do anything. He played various scenarios in his mind but all of them were not good enough. Most of them ended with Charles dead. And he couldn't. Erik gritted his teeth. He wouldn't lose him to something as trivial as that.
His muscles already tense, Erik heard a sound he couldn't be hearing now. Laughter. Charles was laughing and the veil fell before Erik's incredulous eyes. Panther was lazily waving long tail and Charles lowered his uninjured hand on the cat's neck… then he started stroking its ears.
Erik came out into the clearing, poised to attack if needed.
Charles grinned at him with a happy, bright smile and Erik was immediately relieved. Charles' haunted expression was fresh in his mind. It must be some wonder that he can muster a smile at all after everything he's been through.
Sun was falling through the leaves and panther's black fur shimmered beautifully. Charles looked at him and suggested both slyly and bashfully:
'Erik, let's call her Raven!'