X-men: World of Gray

Chapter 28

Chapter 28…

The world was numb. Charles lay in bed, his body twisted away from the room. His cuffed left arm was curled behind his back, his hand tingling from the lack of blood flow.

He didn't adjust it. His eyes remained open. Above him, tiny noises drifted through the base—the piping rattled. The lights hummed. Beyond that, however, the rapping had returned. Louder now, little footfalls bustled along like children were playing above him.

"…Charles?..."

Moira again. A week ago, Charles would have fought her voice, reminding himself it wasn't real. He had to ward her off; he had to maintain his senses. As her voice breezed through his ears again, however, a vestige of warmth soothed him. He no longer wished her to leave. He never wished her to leave.

"…It'll be over soon, Charles…"

She was right. No matter what, Charles knew that statement was true.

There came a tiny clank, and as it rang in Charles' ears, all the other noises across the base faded. Charles squinted his eyes shut; the warmth inside him cooled. The doorknob behind Cerebro was twisting.

It wasn't even morning yet—then again, there was no point to delay this. The sooner Erik did what he felt was necessary, the sooner it would be done with.

Still, as Charles heard footsteps echo off of Cerebro's flooring, his heart raced.

He gripped his bed sheets.

From the other side of the room, Charles listened as Erik tinkered with Cerebro. He heard as his friend plugged in new pieces of the machine, the plastic and metal clapping together. Then, from the entire room, there came a rumble. The wall panels hummed.

Cerebro was activated.

Charles released his bedding. He breathed slowly, trying to get his body to calm. Panicking wouldn't help him. He had to face this—accept it. Push through it. Inside his chest, however, his heart still hammered hard enough to make his head ache.

More footfalls, this time approaching the steps. They were lighter than Charles recalled. Erik wore boots—heavy, stomping things. These were softer, like those from dress shoes.

With that realization, Charles' eyes snapped open.

From the metal fencing, a burst of energy exploded. The wind was strong enough to shove Charles across his bed and into the wall beside it. He jerked his free hand to the wall, trying to keep his face from slamming into the marble. The wind swirled around the room like a tornado. The lights on the ceiling clattered together, some breaking off.

Then, the whirlwind subsided. The room became suddenly quiet except for one noise, and it took Charles a second to realize it was coming from him. He was gasping.

Before he had a chance to roll over, Riptide was already there. Snagging Charles by his collar, the other man spun him around. On his head was Erik's helmet, the red looking almost too vibrant for the man's gray attire. He grinned at Charles the same way a wolf showed its teeth before biting down.

"My turn now," was all Riptide said before Charles felt himself being ripped away from the bed.

Clumsily gripping the other man's wrists, Charles released a single shout before his body smacked into the floor. His left wrist still cuffed to the bed, the limb twisted behind his back as he dropped. A shot of pain jostled up his arm.

He felt it, but barely possessed the senses to understand it. The world had become a daze, incoherent moments mashed together, and he didn't have time to process anything.