Two Sides Of A Coin

9~Charles

The pressure of my fingers lighten against my temple. I release my hold on Moira's vision and slump back into the wheelchair. The fighting is over. I didn't catch any casualties, but there may have been some. I think about the battle I had mentally witnessed. Moira and Erik fight well together. I'm glad they are getting along. Now that Erik has revealed his power to her, I may as well reveal mine. Not at the moment, though. The important thing is leaving.

"Erik? You didn't forget about me did you?" I mentally call.

"You're a telepath. You already know the answer."

I figure I have a few minutes, so I look at the reflection of myself that is right in front of me. My knees are touching it, the mirror and I am so close in this small stall, but of course I can't feel it. In the mirror I see a sick-looking man with sunken, albeit bright eyes in a wheelchair, with an unbuttoned shirt and shaking hands. It is starting. How long will I be forced to endure this pain of longing? I try again to button my light blue shirt. I am surprised when I button the top one, but disappointed when that is all I can manage. My lip trembles in frustration and trying so hard, but my eyes remain dry. I give up with the shirt and pull the sweater vest over it. I was still able to tell I hadn't finished buttoning up the shirt beneath the grey vest. Oh well. It will have to do. I grab the grey tweed sportscoat from my lap and put it on as well. Now I'm really dressed warm.

When there is nothing left for me to do I stare at my shaking hands. I need a drink. I can't live like this. I don't need too much to drink, just a sip to appease this longing for the sting in my throat-

I hear a click, and then the stall door is being opened. In the mirror I can tell that Erik was using his power to unlock the door, then Moira pulled it open.

"Are you alright?" She asks as she wheels me out.

"Me? Of course I'm fine. You two were the ones fighting, are you-" I stop talking as I see what Erik is holding in front of him. It is a wheelchair, much bigger and nicer than my own, and it shines bright with light. I notice that the wheelchair appears to be made out of the racks that held clothing, and I immediately realize that Erik has constructed it. It displays excellent craftsmanship, and is smooth and shiny.  My eyes threaten to water as I glanced up to see a shadow of happiness on Erik's face.

"Thank you, Erik." I say as he helps me into it.

"Don't thank me, it was her idea." His answer surprises me. He let her take credit? She really must have impressed him out there.

"And listen," Moira motions for Erik to move it a little bit, "no squeak." Erik exits, leaving Moira to push me out of the store. As we leave the store and approach the frigid air of outside, I let out a breath.

"Can you push it yourself? Or do you want me to?" Moira asks quietly. I prepare to attempt it, but I catch sight of my hands and retreat.

"If you could for right now, I would appreciate it." I answer. We approach the van.

"Where to?" Moira wonders. I look at Erik.

"Keep running?"

"Keep running." When Erik is about to lift me into the back seat, I interrupt it.

"My friend, you only slept for a couple hours. Why don't you stay in the back and rest? You need it."

"I don't need sleep."

"Yes, you do."

"Fine."

Erik then helps me into the front passenger seat, and I lose sight of him as he stows my new wheelchair. He and Moira get into the car simultaneously. Moira starts the car and puts it in drive.