Chapter 13 – Recipe for a Mental Breakdown

It was hard to believe that only a few days had passed. I was learning new things about my mutation all the time and pushing my limits to achieve all kinds of new feats. It was the most excited and happy I'd ever felt, even with the grief still lingering. I'd remembered the look on Darwin's face as he'd reached out to Alex, the peace in his eyes, the acceptance of his cruel fate, and that brought me some comfort I hadn't expected. It was clear that he'd had time to understand what was happening to him and that none of us had the power to stop it, and he didn't blame any one of us for any of it. He came up with the plan, so he knew the risks, yet he still thought the endeavour to rescue Angel worth that risk, and he did not regret what he'd done. I was able to redirect my energy into feeling grateful to be so lucky as to know him, and appreciating what he'd done for me in that short time, instead of focusing on the fact that he had been taken from us so unjustly. I was feeling more at peace, and I was trying my best to extend that feeling to everyone around me.

The key word there was 'trying'. Alex was having difficulties with his mutation, Hank had told us, which seemed perfectly reasonable – I doubted anyone could master such an immense power as the one Alex held in such a short space of time. Hank assured us that he was almost finished working on something that would make it ten times easier for Alex, hopefully, but the blonde was also struggling with guilt and self-hatred, and that wasn't doing anything to ease the process. We all knew that it wasn't Alex's fault that Darwin had died; but that was easy for us to say – it hadn't been our power that had been used against our friend to end him.

Alex was keeping to himself, as was Raven, strangely, and Hank was always busy in his lab, so that usually left Sean and I to keep each other company. The best thing about Sean was that he always kept things light-hearted and fun, he refused to give in to grief and despair, and chose instead to focus on the positives. The latest development in his mutation was that they were trying to get him to scream just right to allow him to fly through the air. There had been a couple of test runs with him throwing himself out of a window and letting out a pitiful yelp, which failed amazingly, but it had – unfortunately for him – been a nice moment for the rest of us, because it brought us all together, if only briefly.

Despite Sean, I had a lot of time to myself. I liked to walk through the trees, moving branches with my mind to clear a path, or making them wrap around my hips to lift me up into the air – I liked to tease Sean that I could fly better than him – or sometimes I'd just stand with my eyes closed and my hands pressed to a tree trunk, immersing myself in the feeling of the plants around me.

It wasn't all peace and silence, though; whispers would break through my thoughts sometimes, whispers of people I was trying hard to forget. Memories of the asylum, of the doctor insisting that there was something wrong with me, kept clawing their way back into my consciousness. I'd dream that he was there, in my room in Charles' mansion, telling me that he always knew I was a freak, that I was crazy, that I should go back to the asylum so that he could finally fix me.

I guess that's why, one night, I woke up screaming.

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Throughout Xavier's mansion, the mutants and human slept, some peacefully, some painfully. Things had been relatively calm, and although there had been difficulties, they were making progress in training and developing the teenagers' mutations. They were lucky they had so much time to train, but the longer they waited for Shaw to make his next move, the more anxious they became.

During the night, when their minds were the most vulnerable, their inner demons would come out and plague their dreams. It was tense enough as it was, even before the screams shattered the silence.

Everyone was immediately ripped from their slumber, groggy minds struggling to process what was going on. Then several pairs of feet were hammering against the floor as they bounded down hallways, up staircases, around corners, until they converged upon the room where the screams were coming from: Evelyn's room. Alex and Hank's rooms were closest, so they had already barged through the door, and now stood staring at Evelyn, writhing in her bed. Her hands were buried in her hair, clutching at her head as if in pain, her eyes squeezed shut. Only once everyone had piled into the room did she start screaming proper words.

"Get out of my head! Get out of my head!"

"Charles!" Erik roared, his head snapping towards the telepath with a look of pure fury.

"It's not me!" Charles shouted back, his eyes remaining fixed on Evelyn.

"What do we do?" Moira yelled, covering her ears with her hands like a couple of the other teenagers.

Erik watched in horror as Evelyn slapped at her head, her screaming continuing, her back arching off the bed and her legs flailing. He marched forward, planning to at least hold her limbs down so she wouldn't hurt herself, but he stopped short when the window on the opposite wall shattered, shards of glass flying into the room. Everyone threw their arms up to protect their faces, turning away from the onslaught. When they looked back, they watched in amazement and confusion as thick vines slithered over the windowsill and onto the floor. Some came through the top of the window and curled up towards the ceiling, as if they had no destination, but were just moving.

"Evelyn!" Erik shouted as she frantically got out of her bed, falling against the wall.

She was screaming through clenched teeth now, her eyes still closed, her fingers still digging into her head.

"Charles, do something!" Raven screamed desperately at her brother.

Charles frowned, reluctant, before placing his fingers to his temples. As soon as he made contact with Evelyn's mind, he cried out, overwhelmed by the panic, terror, rage, and despair coursing through her thoughts.

"No!" Evelyn shouted, her eyes snapping open to stare wide-eyed at the telepath, a brief moment of coherence. Her hand reached out, palm facing towards him, her eyes begging him to stop.

"Evelyn, let me help you!" Charles shouted, persisting.

But she had been ripped from reality again, stumbling towards the window as her eyes focused on something that wasn't there. "Leave me alone!" she cried. "There's nothing-ʺ

And then her body went into a spasm, forcing her to a knee as she screamed even louder than before, as if she was going through monumental pain.

"Evelyn!" Alex shouted, moving forward before Erik caught his arm and held him back.

The vines had doubled in numbers by now, nearly hiding the nearby wall and floor from view. Some of them, those closest to the group, were growing thorns, as if warning them off approaching Evelyn.

Her body stopped spasming, and she managed to get back onto both feet, a hand gripping one of the vines draped over the windowsill. "Leave me alone!" she screamed again, "Please!"

"Charles!" Raven shouted questioningly, wondering why the hell the telepath hadn't been able to help their friend yet.

Charles' face was contorted in pain, a vein bulging on his forehead as beads of sweat rolled down from his hairline. His jaw was clenched, his eyes full of unshed tears. He was trying as hard as he could to reach her through the chaos of memories and delusions in her mind, but she was far gone, completely unaware of his efforts. "Evelyn, listen to me!" he shouted in her head and out loud, in the hopes that he could finally get through to her. But it didn't work.

Vines continued to crawl into the room through the window. Evelyn screamed one last time, before she fell sideways over the top of them, and out into thin air.

"Evelyn!" Alex bellowed, as he and Erik both bolted forward, ignoring the thorns at their feet.

They gaped out the window, watching as Evelyn lay writhing now on a platform of interwoven vines, slowly descending towards the ground. Her eyes opened briefly, mad and terrified, and she distractedly waved a hand, causing a whole new load of vines to come crawling up and over the window. Erik and Alex were forced to take a step back as the vines completely blocked off the opening, hiding her from view.

Alex wasted no time, immediately turning on his heel and running out of the room, closely followed by Sean, Raven, and Hank. Erik marched over to Charles, who stood panting, having finally withdrawn from Evelyn's mind. "What the hell is going on?" Erik growled.

"Her mind has-ʺ Charles paused, searching for the right word as he breathed heavily, "Exploded, with memories, with delusions. She's remembering everything all at once, the pain, the fear, the loathing; I don't know how long her mind can take it."

Erik's gaze hardened and he stormed out of the room after the teenagers, Charles and Moira following quickly.

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I lay shivering amongst leaves, grass, broken branches, and sturdy tree roots. I was soaked, in what I could only imagine was my own sweat and tears. My legs burned as if I had been running a marathon, and my heart was thumping madly in my chest. My mind was fuzzy and numb, but every so often a whisper would pierce through the grogginess, or a lingering memory of electricity burning through my body. "I'm not crazy," I muttered, but I didn't really know why. "I'm not crazy."

"What's wrong with you?"

There it was again, that whisper of a voice I never wanted to hear again for the rest of my life. I flinched, curling into a tighter ball, whimpering pathetically. I waited for the click of the button, the searing pain of the shocks.

"Evelyn?" a vague voice said softly.

My back arched while I simultaneously strained to keep as curled up as I could, pain jumping from cell to cell throughout my body.

"Hey, Eve," the voice spoke again, soothing and comforting.

While the pain subsided, I felt tears stinging my eyes as they built up and squeezed through the gaps between my eyelashes. I sniffed, wishing it would all just end.

Leaves crunched under the person's weight as they sat down close to me. They were moving slowly, as if concerned I would bolt like a frightened deer – but I wasn't even sure I had the strength to crawl.

"It's okay," the voice said, and my mind began to clear, recognising the voice as Alex's.

It took all my courage to open my eyes and look up at him, fearing I'd see the pathetic reflection of myself in his eyes. His brow was furrowed in concern and sympathy, and he was alone. "I'm not crazy," I whispered, praying to anyone listening that he'd believe me. If even one person doubted me, I knew I'd be back in the asylum.

He reached his hand out, a finger extending to catch a falling tear on my cheek. "I know, Evy," he murmured. "I believe you."

It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. With those simple words, the whispers went mute and the shocks stopped. My muscles relaxed, but they were sore after being tense for so long. I closed my eyes again and breathed, working to clear my mind.

Alex shuffled closer so that he was leaning his back against the tree behind me, but that meant he had to lift my head and redeposit it on his thigh. I opened my eyes again to look down his leg, following the patterns in his jogging bottoms, wondering at the feeling in my chest as his fingers sifted through my hair, running gently along my skull.

We sat for a moment like that, quiet and relaxed, listening to each other breath. Alex continued to run his fingers through my hair, and I realised I couldn't remember the last time someone had been so gentle and caring with me. I couldn't even remember my parents comforting me like this.

"Are you hurt?" Alex asked after a while.

I frowned, trying to discern whether my pain was internal or external, or even real or just a memory. "I don't know," I breathed, closing my eyes against the tears that threatened to build up again. This was the worst thing: the blurred line between memory and reality.

Alex reached for my shoulder and squeezed it gently, his thumb stroking the material of my top. "It's okay," he said.

"Did I hurt anyone?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"No, of course not," Alex replied.

We lapsed into another silence, but I felt tense. I felt like I needed to tell Alex everything that had ever happened to me in that asylum so that he'd understand what memories plagued me and why my mind was so weak to them. But, at the same time, I didn't know if Alex would want to listen, to save himself from reviving his own memories, or if I could even handle it. I felt lost.

"I used to get shocked three times a week," I started, wondering how far I could go. "The doctor assigned to me was a horrible, sadistic guy. He enjoyed it. He would constantly ask me," I squeezed me eyes shut tighter as his voice echoed in the depths of my mind, "He would ask me what was wrong with me. I always told him 'nothing', but it didn't make a difference. The guards were worse than the ones in the CIA facility; they'd mock us, beat us, rape us, and no one ever did anything about it." I opened my eyes, needing to remind myself that I was in a gorgeous wooded area with Alex stroking my hair, and not back in my cell. "But, I think being with the other patients might have been the worst thing about it. Some of them were really gone; their minds just completely broken. Spending years with people like that, being told constantly that I belonged there with them," I shook my head as best as I could against Alex's thigh, "Some days it was hard to think otherwise. Some days I'd just surrender myself to the doubts and the fears and I'd become someone that I tried so hard to not be, and I hated it. In those moments I really believed that I was crazy, because I must have been if all these people kept telling me that and wouldn't let me back to the family who put me there in the first place." My voice cracked, along with my resolve. The words were too hard to speak any more.

I couldn't stop the tears now. Silently, they trickled across my nose and my cheek before the fabric of Alex's jogging bottoms soaked them up. I was exhausted and miserable, but having Alex so close to me gave me some sort of strength. Once again I found myself questioning the relationship my body and mind seemed to have with him – he was different from the others, but only because of the way I reacted to him.

I remembered the way Angel was behaving after Alex and I first met, how she and Raven would make sure he and I had to sit next to each other. I thought about the night Alex and I sat in the rec. room talking about everything, I thought about how he carried me to bed that night, how he'd tried to keep me grounded when Shaw attacked the facility, how he'd run his fingers across my cheek just a few days ago, how he sat, now, stroking my hair. Somewhere, the echo of a memory whispered in my mind, and I got a glimpse of him rushing forward to try and help me when my own mind had betrayed me.

This time, when my chest surged and I felt warmth spread through my body all the way to the tips of my toes, I didn't wonder what it was. Alex was special, he was different from the others, because he was special to me. I liked the others, as friends, as mentors, even as father figures; but, Alex… I liked Alex more than that. I didn't really know what it was that set him apart from the others, it certainly wasn't only because of how handsome he was, but I had faith that I'd figure it out one day.

Whether I'd tell him, however, was a different matter entirely. I wasn't scared of rejection; I'd dealt with far more emotionally traumatising things than that. I was just scared of losing someone who meant so much to me. Alex kept me grounded, made me feel protected and cared for, and, above all else, he was a good friend – I couldn't lose that. If he didn't feel the same way as I did, that would be okay, as long as he remained my friend.

"I was really scared, Evy."

It was so quiet I wondered if I'd imagined it.

"You looked like you were in so much pain," Alex murmured, "And we couldn't do anything about it. I couldn't help you." His fingers went still, just gently resting on my hair. "You fell out of your window, and I thought you were-ʺ he cut himself off, the weight of his hand disappearing.

I frowned, my fingers playing with each other. "I'm sorry," I told him, and I meant it. I hated that I kept breaking down, that I kept having to rely on the others to pick up the pieces and put me back together. I felt helpless.

"Please don't say that," he said, his voice firmer now.

He slipped his hands under me and helped me up into a sitting position. I rearranged myself so that I was sitting cross-legged at his side, facing him. My eyes felt puffy from crying, and my throat was starting to hurt from holding in the sobs, but Alex took my cheek in his hand and looked at me so gently I thought I could live in that moment forever.

"None of this is your fault, Evy," he told me.

I glanced between his eyes, sniffing. "None of it is your fault, either," I whispered, scared he'd close up and leave. I watched warily as his eyebrows twitched; but he moved no more than that. "You have to believe me." He blinked and looked down, lowering his hand into his lap. "Alex, please, I hate seeing you like this," I said, feeling more tears threatening to fall. I reached my hands out, cupping his face and turning it so he'd look at me again. "Stop blaming yourself just because it's the easiest option. Accept that you're a good person with a power that you have the capacity to control, and direct your anger towards the people responsible."

I could feel his jaw clenching underneath my palms, could see the battle raging in his eyes, and I felt my hope fading away.

"Okay."

I stared at him, the movement of his mouth having been almost imperceptible. Shock gripped me, jumbled my thoughts and held my voice.

"Okay, Evy," he said again, and this time he smiled, and it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.