Mutant (Fassavoy)

17 - Together

James almost didn't want Michael to help him. He appreciated the act, but it was putting Michael in danger. 

"How did you even get here?" James asked. 

"To what I think is your mind: I don't know. To the Astral Plane: believe it or not, Ellen Page sent me. I'll explain it when we get to safety." 

"Again." James said. "If." 

Michael punched him lightly. "Stop being so negative, McAvoy." 

James made a sign, connecting his thumb and pointer finger and straightening the other three fingers. He put that sign on the base of his thigh. It was sign language for asshole (one of the ways to do it, anyways) and the starting motion for the punching game. 

There was a sort of beating sound like the one in Jumanji. James took Michael's hand, not exactly knowing he made that move. 

"Come on. It's coming." James said as he started to run. Michael, his hand being clutched in James', was forced to follow him and hide his growing blush. 

Do you have your telepathy? Michael asked James mentally. There was no answer. Except no answer gave Michael an answer.  

"So you don't have your telepathy." Michael commented. James huffed a bit. "No. I'm pretty sure inside my mind, I can't read other people's minds." 

That made Michael wonder if he had his mutation still. The beating sound got louder as they ran. "We're running away from it, right?" Michael asked over the sound. 

James just kept running. 

"James." Michael said as he tried to keep up and not be dragged by his hand. "We're not going to towards it, just far enough so that I... can do this." James said, sprinting. 

The scenery around them changed. The two slowed to a stop. Michael looked around. It took him a second to recognize this place as James' home. 

"Home turf." James explains, still not realizing he had been holding Michael's hand until he saw Fassy's face. James immediately dropped his hand and his own face grew red. "Sorry" he mutters. 

Michael was panting. "How— are you not— out of- breath?" Michael asked. 

McAvoy shrugged. "I'm in my mental form not physical." He guessed, with a small smile. 

His smile, however, disappeared quickly when James noticed something. Michael had turned to the table, his hand outstretched. Michael's hand landed on the top of the table. So everything here is real. Michael thinks. 

"Michael, if I tell you to run, run." James said quietly, keeping his eyes on a spot through a door frame. The open door led to a seemingly empty room, but James sensed something there. 

Michael looked at him in shock. "No. Absolutely not. I'm a not leaving yo-" 

"Shut it." James said, interrupting Michael. Michael turned to see where James was looking. A black cloud of fog was slowly turning into a human-like form. The man the cloud had turned into had grey, unnatural skin with beady red eyes that had a shimmer of insanity in each one. 

"Two figures of prey, which one do I go to first?" The Shadow King thought out loud. "An appetizer first and a full corse meal after, or a meal and then dessert?" 

Michael's first thought was that this thing is a cannibale??? 

But the Shadow King didn't want flesh, it-he wanted souls. 

Almost like a mirror, Michael stepped towards James and James stepped towards Michael. James' left hand intertwined with Michael's right. The two actors stood together, hand in hand. James felt a small part of his telepathy rush back to him when he touched Michael's hand. 

It almost felt like Michael was giving James back his telepathy. But that couldn't be it. Michael, too, felt the feeling. His was slightly different from James', though. Fassy felt his mutation strengthen. He stood up taller and most of his fears disappeared. 

"You aren't going to take us down without a fight," James said confidently with a new glint in one of his blue eyes.