Chapter 15 –A Question of Morality
Erik was walking somewhere with purpose when he spotted me comfort eating in the kitchen by myself. He stood in the doorway, still and unreadable as a statue, staring in at me. I had paused mid-chew, having stuffed an overly large piece of chocolate brownie in my mouth. The timing was inconvenient.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
I couldn't quite tell whether he was amused or exhausted. When I pointed at my mouth to explain my lack of response, he sighed and looked ahead of him again. I thought he was going to walk away and leave me to wallow in my embarrassment as I struggled to finish chewing, but unfortunately he decided to join me at the kitchen table, after he poured himself some whiskey.
We sat in silence for a moment, him glaring down at the table, me covering my mouth to avoid any further embarrassment.
"You look significantly less pleased than you usually do," I finally managed after clearing my teeth of remaining crumbs.
Erik lifted his glare to me briefly, before sighing again and rubbing a hand over his face. When we regained eye contact, he had softened somewhat. "Charles is naïve."
I sat up a little straighter, realising that this wasn't any normal conversation. Erik wanted to get serious. "Can you blame him? His life has been significantly less torturous than ours has."
His jaw clenched. "He thinks Shaw's life should be spared and that humanity will magically accept mutants when we stop this war from happening."
I frowned, his point having brought me back to square one. "You wanted to know what I was doing?" I asked rhetorically, staring at his glass. "I realised that we'd be exposed tomorrow to some of the most powerful and dangerous people on Earth. And I know that our acceptance into society will absolutely not happen overnight, if ever." I took a deep breath, knowing that once I said my thoughts out loud, I could never take them back. Reluctantly, I met Erik's gaze. I knew he would understand, but part of me was scared of that. "I'm having second thoughts about sacrificing my life for people who would gladly take it from me if they knew what I could do."
Erik's lips parted and he leant back in his seat, observing me carefully. I bit my tongue, my fingers picking at each other under the table nervously. Erik wouldn't think less of me for this; he would be proud, be intent on encouraging that attitude. He didn't believe in humanity, in their capacity for good, like Charles. Erik believed in their capacity for cruelty and evil, because that is what he had known, as I had.
"What would you do with Shaw?" he asked eventually, his voice quiet.
I felt as though I had just been given a test, and I didn't exactly doubt that I had. Erik wanted to know how far I would go.
My heartbeat was rapid. What would I do with Shaw, if I were Erik?
"I don't know," I muttered. Erik looked disappointed. Part of me was relieved, but part of me wasn't done yet. I leaned my elbows on the table and clenched my fists, spurred on by a mass of anger that was always lingering in the back of my mind. "But, if I was fighting the doctor at the asylum, I wouldn't be fighting to capture him. I'd be fighting to destroy him."
Erik slid his whiskey glass across the table to me. I lifted it with shaking fingers and downed the liquid, wincing as it burned its way to the fire in my chest.
xxxxxxxxxxxx
It had been surprisingly easy to get to sleep, but perhaps the whiskey had helped with that. I awoke peacefully, with birdsong and a breeze drifting through the open hole in my wall that used to be a window. The leaves on the vines that remained entangled over the wall, ceiling, and floor, stirred gently.
I went through the motions of my morning ritual. My body felt light, my mind empty, and I found I didn't much care whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. Waking up with the knowledge that you would likely die before you saw another bed, was strangely unworrying. It was like all the nerves and fear that had taken a hold of me in the night had been washed away.
Maybe I was still drunk.
Breakfast with everyone was quiet, save for the few guesses at where Hank could possibly be. Raven was sat beside Erik, in her natural form, her head held high. I was happy for her, now that she seemed comfortable in her real skin; but it still didn't much explain why she had been avoiding me. Erik met my gaze once over the table, the corner of his mouth twitching ever so slightly into a smirk that might have made me uneasy once.
It was decided that the most logical place Hank would be found was in his lab, so we all headed down together to get him ready. The mystery was solved when we read the note on his door waiting for us.
"Gone to the airbase, bring the crate marked X. Hank."
Charles ripped the note down and opened the doors, to reveal utter chaos. Hank's lab had been overturned, thrown around, and completely ruined. I frowned, concern squeezing into my groggy mess of a mind. Had Hank done this? Had he been kidnapped and forced to write that note as a trap?
We walked into the room, taking care to not cause any more damage.
"What the hell happened here?" Erik asked rhetorically.
Charles glanced back at us but said nothing, instead continuing his path towards the one object left untouched in the lab: the crate marked X. After a moment we followed after him, picking our way through the debris. I don't know what I had been expecting to be in the crate, but yellow and black uniforms had definitely not even been a suspicion.
"Hank has been busy," Erik commented.
"Do we really have to wear these?" Alex asked, clearly unhappy with the idea.
"As none of us mutated to endure extreme g-force or being riddled by bullets, I suggest we suit up," Charles replied.
He shut the lid on the crate, and I turned to smirk at Alex when he muttered something under his breath. "Looks like we're going to be a big bunch of nerds."
"Shut up," he chuckled.
Erik took Alex to help him drag the crate out into the hallway so we could all access it and pick out our uniforms. They were mostly all the same, save for Alex's circular thing that helped with his mutation, and Sean's black stripes and bumblebee wings. We quickly got changed, squeezing our bodies into the skin-tight outfits, and met outside at the jeep we had arrived in not that long before.
Charles drove again, but this time with Moira in the passenger seat. Raven joined the rest of us in the back, though she remained next to Erik. Conversation struck up much more easily this time between Alex and Sean, comparing outfits and making fun of each other. I sat with my head back and my eyes closed, wanting to join in with them, but my mind was slowly picking up thoughts full of contradictions and conflict, and it was hard to not get swept up in it all.
Alex, Sean, Charles, Moira, and Hank were all good people, they wouldn't kill Shaw, and they would give humanity space and time to deal with the knowledge of mutants, instead of presuming humanity's hatred and bloodlust and preparing early to retaliate against it. When I opened my eyes and looked at Erik, and the way he looked at Raven, I knew that the two of them were on a completely different wavelength. Erik looked back at me, his head tilting ever so slightly, probably wondering the same thing as I was: where did I stand in it all?
When we reached the airbase, Charles parked the jeep outside of a hanger and led us inside. We had only ever seen the model version of the jet before, back in the CIA facility, and while that had been impressive, it was absolutely nothing in comparison to the real thing. The jet was enormous, a huge thing of sleek design that seemed both elegant and dangerous. It was mind-blowing, and made me feel just a little more confident about kicking Shaw's ass.
"Where's Hank?" Raven asked nobody, as we stood staring into the hanger. It seemed empty, aside from the beast of a jet.
"I'm here," Hank's voice replied, sounding a little deeper than usual.
I squinted down the hanger space at his silhouette, wondering what was wrong with my eyesight that it was making his outline look… furry. A few exchanged glances later told me that I thankfully wasn't the only one.
"Hank?" Charles asked disbelievingly.
When he stepped into the light, my heart dropped for him. He had already been self-conscious about the size of his feet; but he was capable of hiding them when he wanted. This, on the other hand… his entire body was blue-skinned and blue-furred, with yellow eyes and the claws of a beast.
"It didn't attack the cells. It enhanced them," Hank explained, sounding so dejected and broken. "It didn't work."
I was glad that Raven spoke up, since I had been rendered speechless. "Yes, it did, Hank. Don't you see? This is who you were meant to be." Hank shuffled closer to her and she reached out to him. "This is you. No more hiding."
"You've never looked better, man," Erik added, slapping Hank's shoulder.
Hank's hand shot out and wrapped around Erik's neck, snarling like a beast.
"Hank," Charles called out warningly.
"Don't mock me," Hank spat at Erik, squeezing tighter.
"Hank!" I shouted, horrified by the way Erik's face was turning red.
"Hank, put him down immediately, please," Charles tried. "Hank. Hank!"
The new Hank dropped Erik to his knees, with a look of disgust and reluctance.
"I wasn't," Erik retorted, catching his breath.
"Even I've got to admit you look pretty badass," Alex put in. When Hank turned sharply to look at him, my entire body tensed up, ready to attack. "I think I got a new name for you," Alex continued, unbothered. "Beast."
Hank snarled again, but didn't seem to want to pursue any further violence, thankfully.
"You're sure you can fly this thing?" Sean asked, diffusing the tension even more. I had a new appreciation for the two and their conflict resolution skills.
"Of course I can," Hank replied amicably, "I designed it."
"Well, if you men are all done with the pissing contest, I think we should really get on with it," I said.
"I'm sure there was a better way of putting that, Evelyn," Charles frowned, though his mouth betrayed his amusement.
"I'll get the ramp lowered," Hank told us, before heading back towards the cockpit.
"I like the new Hank," Sean commented when our fluffy blue friend was out of earshot. "He's cool."
"That's not exactly the way I'd describe him," Erik grunted, massaging his neck.
I rolled my eyes. "At least he's standing up for himself."
There was a hissing noise and a whirring of electricity before a ramp began to descend from the underneath of the jet. We took a few steps towards it, eager to see inside. It was safe to say that comfort was not the key priority of the design process – the seats lined the walls and no effort had been made to cover the wires and structural shit keeping the jet together. It was not at all sugar-coated; this was a military jet, not some fancy civilian plane.
"Right," Charles nodded, before leading us into the belly of the beast.
We chose our seats and strapped ourselves in, taking care not to touch anything that looked as though it shouldn't be touched.
"This is intense," Sean muttered to himself. He seemed ever so slightly unsettled.
"Do we even have a plan?" Alex asked, glancing at Erik and Charles.
"Well, we can start with getting out of the hanger and into the air," Hank piped up from the cockpit, looking back at us.
Moira reappeared then, and hurried up the ramp into the navigator's seat behind Hank. "We don't have much time, the cargo ship's nearing the Embargo line."
"Take it away, Hank," Charles called out.
I leant my head back and took deep breaths as Hank powered up the jet and got it moving out onto the runway. My chest was feeling a little tight and my stomach a little ropey, but I kept my breathing even and tried to reassure myself that Hank knew what he was doing.
"Hey, you okay?" Alex asked, leaning in to save me from anyone overhearing.
"I've never been on a plane before," I admitted, "Never thought I would get out of the asylum in the first place to even try it."
"Once you're in the air, it's fine," he said.
"Yeah, when you're travelling abroad or something," I retorted, "But we're going somewhere to prevent a war and maybe die in the process."
He didn't have anything to say to that, so he just took a hold of my hand instead.
The take-off wasn't entirely terrifying; it was actually quite exciting, and a strangely humorous feeling. But it was bringing us closer and closer to Cuba, and that wasn't exciting at all.
"Our plan is to stop Shaw," Charles called out to us. When we continued watching him, waiting for more, he cleared his throat. "The details will sort themselves out when we get eyes on the situation."
"Smooth," Erik smirked.
Conversation dwindled. Hank would call out time estimations every so often, Charles would attempt to say something motivating and encouraging, and my conflicting perspectives on the whole situation would battle it out in my head all over again. I tried to let the noise of the jet drown my thoughts out, but they were too much.
I wasn't as naïve as Charles was. I knew that the world had countless humans like the doctor from the asylum, who wouldn't consider torturing or killing us mutants morally wrong, because they would see us as monsters, not people. And that was just intolerant civilians; there was no telling whether governments and their militaries would be happy to accept us, and if they didn't, war would be inevitable. Charles wouldn't want to fight them, he would want to make peace. But sometimes peace is unattainable, and when faced with extinction, there was no way that I – and, no doubt, many others – would sit back and let the humans destroy us. We would fight back, and we would win.
But perhaps Charles wasn't naïve. Yes, he had been raised peacefully and had been unbothered by humans. Yes, he had never been discriminated against because of his mutation. And, yes, his interactions with Moira were something significantly more than civil. But he was too clever to base his opinion of humanity off of his experiences alone. He had been inside Erik's mind, he had been inside mine, and he knew, he felt, the pain and suffering mutants had and would endure at the hands of humans. He knew there was evil and cruelty in the hearts of humans; he just had more faith in their love and compassion. He believed that love would dominate the hearts of most of the world so that the majority of humanity would accept or at least tolerate us.
I just didn't know if I believed it.
"Guys, we're coming up on the Embargo line," Hank announced.
"Super," Sean smiled sarcastically.
I blew out a long exhale and rolled my shoulders back, going over my mutation's capabilities in my head. Using it in a fight was entirely different to making a tree grow; I needed to know how I could use it against someone.
"It looks pretty messy out there," Hank observed for us. The windows on the sides of the jet were over our heads, so we weren't able to see the situation unless Hank angled the jet a specific way.
A few of us exchanged glances, uncertain of where to even start. I closed my eyes and breathed, trying to expel any unhelpful thoughts so that I could just focus on making sure we all survived.
When I opened them again, Charles was lifting his fingers to his temple. I nodded, knowing we needed accurate knowledge of the situation from all sides – an accuracy only Charles could achieve. He closed his eyes, and we waited impatiently.
Within a few moments he was back with us. "The crew of the Aral Sea are all dead. Shaw's been there."
"He's still here, somewhere," Erik insisted.
"He set the ship on course for the embargo line."
"If that ship crosses the line, our boys are gonna blow it up, and the war begins," Moira said.
"Unless they're not our boys," Charles retorted, clearly forming a plan. He took a deep breath and brought his fingers to his temple once more, his eyes closing in concentration.
Alex and I glanced at each other as Moira grew restless in her seat, clearly indicating that the cargo ship was seconds away from crossing the line.
Suddenly alarms started beeping like crazy up in the cockpit. Hank glanced out the side of his window before yanking the controls to the side and sending the jet into an ungraceful roll in mid-air, throwing my internal organs onto a god damn rollercoaster. Charles was shouting for us to hold on while Raven screamed in terror. I clung to the harness keeping me strapped into my chair and squeezed my eyes shut, thinking of how fucking stupid it would be if we had come all this way to stop a war and we died before we even got close. Hank roared as he struggled to stop the jet from rolling over and over again, until finally he seemed to manage to level it out.
We sat panting in the back, too rattled to let go of our harnesses still. Hank turned to look at Charles and said, "A little warning next time, Professor."
"Sorry about that," Charles replied, before turning to Raven, who he was still stretching a protective arm over. "You alright?"
Raven nodded, and Sean decided that the question was meant for him and shakily confirmed, "Yeah." I couldn't help the nervous chuckle that escaped me at that.
"That was inspired, Charles," Moira said, clearly amused.
"Thank you very much, but I still can't locate Shaw," the telepath replied, his fingers at his temple.
"He's down there. We need to find him now," Erik practically growled.
"Hank?" Charles prompted.
"Is there anything unusual on the radar or scanners?" Hank asked Moira.
"No. Nothing," she said.
"Well, then he must be underwater. And, obviously, we don't have sonar."
Erik sighed, but Sean caught my gaze and a half grin grew on my face. "Yes, we do," he said confidently.
"Yes, we do," Charles repeated, removing his headset and unbuckling himself. Erik quickly followed suite. They moved over to Sean and untangled him, since he was having a hard time doing it himself.
When the lanky ginger went to walk down to the back of the jet, I grabbed his arm. "Hey, be careful, Banshee," I told him.
"Yes, mom," he drawled sarcastically. But he did squeeze my arm reassuringly, and I was grateful for that. He was an idiot, but he was our idiot.
As they started making their way down, Hank began turning the jet, but it made navigating the space slightly difficult for them.
"Hank, level the bloody plane!" Charles shouted.
When our pilot cooperated, Erik used the opportunity to walk down towards the other two, but Sean quickly held out a hand to stop him. "Woah! You back right off," the ginger warned him. Erik held his hands up in mock defence and stayed where he was. "Beast, open the bomb bay doors!" Sean shouted to the front.
A mass of wind burst into the jet as the floor in front of Sean and Charles opened outwards over the water. The noise of it was almost deafening, but we could still make out what they were saying.
"Remember, this is a muscle!" Charles shouted, placing his hand on Sean's throat. "You control it! You'll be in here the entire time!" he assured, gesturing to his head. "We'll see you soon!" I took deep breaths as I watched Charles step back to let Sean prepare himself. "On my mark! Three! Two! One! Go!"
Sean let out a whoop of excitement, or terror, I wasn't quite sure which, and jumped down through the bomb bay doors, out of our view.
"Jesus," I muttered as I looked away, overcome with concern. I heard his screech for the briefest of moments before we'd moved too far away, and prayed he wouldn't do something stupid like drown.
"Alert the fleet, they may want to take their cans off," Moira said into a radio.
Erik and Charles made their way to more comfortable spots, Erik opting to look out of a window while Charles focused on Sean's progress in his mind.
"Hey, Evy," Alex said quietly beside me, looking straight ahead. "In case we don't get a chance later-ʺ
"Alex, no, don't," I interrupted, unprepared for anything emotional to occur.
He turned to look at me. "No, wait, I just wanted to say be careful," he said quickly. "Please."
I sighed in relief and smiled at him. "You too."
"Banshee's got a location on Shaw," Charles called out proudly. He and Erik regrouped at the doors. "Are you ready for this?"
"Let's find out," Erik replied.
"Hank, move to this position," Charles ordered, using his telepathy to show our pilot where to go.
After a moment the jet slowed and balanced itself out over a specific location. Hank activated the wheels so that Erik could lower himself outside the jet but still have something to hold onto.
Raven, Alex, and I all craned our necks in our seats to try and get a look at what was happening, but we didn't have much luck. All we could do was watch Charles' hunched form as he established a connection with Erik's mind.
After a minute I saw Hank slowly turn to his left, and I called out to him, "Hank, can you see what's going on?"
"There's a submarine in the air," he replied, clearly amazed.
I grinned at Alex, feeling soundly optimistic for the first time. Hank pushed one of the controls forward and the jet smoothly moved again, and everything was looking like we had the upper hand.
And then Charles was shouting, "Erik, take my hand!" frantically.
And Hank warned us, "Hold on, guys. It's gonna get bumpy."
And then the jet was spinning again and we were clutching desperately at our harnesses and closing our eyes against the nauseating sensation.
"Erik, take my hand!" Charles shouted again, even louder and more panicked.
The jet was still spinning, a hundred and one alarms were blaring, and there was a terrible noise of metal ripping right behind our heads. Charles managed to pull Erik up into the jet again, right before there was a massive, painful jolt as we collided with land. We were rolling still, but this time crashing over and over again into the ground, the jet breaking apart more and more each time.
The smell of smoke hit my nostrils, and I immediately slapped myself out of it. I let go of my harness and reached my hands out into the air, closing my eyes as I searched for the thrum of life beneath the land. In an instant I found roots. They were thin, but they were many, and they would do the job.
I pulled on them and they wormed their way through soil and sand at a speed I couldn't comprehend. Within the blink of an eye they shot out of the sand and there was another massive jolt as they slammed into the jet and spread out like fingers of an immense hand to halt the jet's momentum.
When everything was still again, I sighed and let my arms drop, leaving the roots where they were to support the jet's weight. It was sitting at a weird angle, with wires sparking everywhere and smoke drifting through the cabin. Erik had pinned Charles' body to the floor during the spin with his mutation, so he slowly lowered them down to what had once been the roof. The two of them then came to our rescue, Charles immediately going to Moira while Erik helped Raven, detaching their harnesses and helping them back to their feet. Alex and I managed to detangle ourselves when we saw we were nobody's priority but our own, and Hank did the same in the cockpit.
The adults rushed forward to look out the windows and get a read of the situation, while Hank, Alex, Raven, and I regrouped for a moment. Awkward and uneasy glances were exchanged between us all, wishing we had more time to say some words to each other, but having no idea what those words would even be.
Finally, Alex spoke up. "So, we came to a pretty sudden stop," he commented pointedly.
"Yeah, that was fast work," Hank put in, smiling at me, "Antheia."
I grinned, embarrassed. "Guys, come on, I didn't save any lives, I just couldn't be bothered rolling anymore."
"You saved my stomach from emptying itself all over you guys," Raven added, smiling almost shyly. I felt a surge of contentment, with my friends acknowledging me, and Raven finally having fun with us again.
"Okay, I have to say it," I rushed out, knowing there wasn't really time for us to be doing any of this. "You guys are great, I feel lucky to have you all in my life – blah, blah, blah." I waved the cheesy words away, frowning at myself. "Don't get killed."
Raven and Hank grinned and moved over to their own window. But Alex… he pulled my side into him, his chest rumbling with his chuckles, and pressed a lingering kiss to my temple. When his head had moved away from mine, I looked up at him, at the smile on his face and the way his blue eyes reflected nothing but happiness for the first time. He was so beautiful.
"You don't get killed either," he mumbled, bringing his free hand up to cup my cheek. "Deal?"
I stared at him, memorising his face and the feeling of being pressed into his body with his warm hand on my face. I was completely in awe of him, of his strength, of his power, his compassion, his humour, his humility, his fear, his anger – everything about him amazed and scared me all at the same time. Somewhere in the back of my head, I vaguely wondered if this was what it felt like to fall in love.
"Deal," I whispered.
"I read the teleporter's mind," Charles informed us, bringing reality crashing back down around me. "Shaw is drawing all the power out of his sub. He's turning himself into some kind of nuclear bomb."
With hopelessness crawling its way into my heart and soul, I clutched Alex closer to me, knowing that whatever we were going to face, I would destroy it before it harmed any more of my family.