Chapter Fourteen

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You had ran to a room that Hank had apparently put your luggage in. Granted, they were items from the sixties. You shuffled through the case, trying to find anything conflict appropriate.

You gave up before deciding to take a shower. As soon as the water hit the back of your head, you noticed red running from your hair. You had forgotten that Erik had knocked you out, but luckily for you the wound had healed.

It took two washings before your hair was no longer matted with blood. You could feel in your gut that it would be happening again too soon for comfort.

Once out, you sighed and dug through the clothes in the room's wardrobe. It was then that you realized you were in Raven's room.

You thought yourself a fool for not noticing earlier. There were photos of the young duo of Charles and Raven sitting on the nightstand. Journals littered the bottom half, and there were a few areas in the wall that seemed to have been patched up.

Hastily, you dug through Raven's clothes and found a pair of jeans, combat boots, a black sweater, and a brown leather jacket.

A small laugh escaped your lips, realizing the irony of the situation. You were marching into battle, wearing the clothes of your enemy.

You sighed, taking a seat on the bed and pulling a picture of Charles into your hand. It was his photo celebrating his graduation from college. He held his diploma, a smile spread across his face. The photo was old and grainy, but he looked like he did the first day you had crossed paths with him.

Carefully, you removed the photo from the frame before folding it and placing it in your pocket. Maybe it would give you good luck, or make up for the courage you lacked.

Quietly, you had left the room and wandered to the hall. So this is what I missed so many years ago.

Quite suddenly, you heard a voice behind you. "Indeed it is. To be frank, I never thought you would see it."

You turned around to see Charles, sitting in his wheelchair. You gave a sad smile. "Sad thing is, I can imagine our friends here. I almost feel as if I can see their shadows in the halls."

"So I'm not the only one. I suppose that's the curse of our gift; still seeing those who are gone."

You felt your eyes begin to gloss over. "Indeed. I still see people I left behind long ago. Eurya, Tuge, Jaques, Michael. Their shadows still follow me and whisper." You looked to the ground as you felt a reassuring squeeze of your hand.

"I can only imagine the voices you hear after so long. I'm weak and foolish for trying to push it away, yet here you are. You face it head on."

"It hasn't always been that way," you looked down at him, "I used to run. For most of my life that was what I had done. It wasn't until I found you that I found the strength to stand tall and take whatever comes at me. And I want you to know that I'm grateful for it; for you."

You squeezed his hand back before pulling away, pushing the tears back.

"Enough talking. We have a mission to do."

You walked away, ready to take whatever would be thrown your way.

Charles sat there, staring at you. You may have had difficulty facing things, but in the end you would go for them. Most would think Charles was the one with more strength, but looking at you he knew it wasn't true.

He knew that not only were you stronger, but he knew that if you weren't there by his side, he would've given up. You had given him strength without knowing.

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