#telepathicprcfesscr

"They found us." Phoenix

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"I know, I can see that and the fact that we are dodging bullets have me another idea of it." Charles ducks back behind the dumpster that they are sheltering behind as a bullet bounces off of it "Have you got any bright ideas or are we just going to stay here and let them shoot at us?"

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She'd kept her face and hands pressed to the window since the lightning began, transfixed by the raging storm. Every time the sky light up, and thunder crashed, she jumped... startled, yes, but also excited.

Until the Hall exploded, and sent the hesitant girl out into the weird, wide world, Seven had never seen a thunderstorm before. There'd been no windows in any of the rooms she was allowed in there. The idea of rain, of the sky splitting open in light... she wouldn't have believed it happened until she saw it for herself. And, even after all this time, she was still just as fascinated by it.

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She really wasn't. Well, no, that wasn't true. It wasn't that simple. As much as she wanted to meet the others, to make friends, to have someone to play with... she didn't want the cacophony back in her head. She'd gotten used to the silence.

Helping My Injured Muse Sentence Starters

"Is this the kind of full-throated encouragement you give all your students?" She asked in a faux cheery voice as she tried to sit up in her med-bay bed. She guessed the Professor's lot had brought her here after finding her. "Because if so, I have some feedback." She commented.

"Ah! Ow!" Billy yelped. He didn't mean to, but when he tried to stand, his ankle gave in and gave up on him. He thought, maybe, he could just push through, maybe just get out, get on the other side, that's all it would take. But hell. He was so tired. Bone tired. He fell down in the dirt, collapsing in his exhaustion and pain.

Honestly, he wasn't sure when the man got there. He awoke with a start, feeling his body lurch upwards in the air, cradled in. Billy was able to lift one hand, shielding his eyes to try and see. "How'd you - ? How'd you find me?"

the silence that follows is deafening. it's ironic, really, considering how everything just seems to stop the moment he sees his father, hands curling into fists at his sides, his jaw set. there's that question again echoing inside his head while everything else falls quiet- why didn't you want me ?? it's as if nothing else in the world matters in that moment. it's just David and his father - the man who abandoned him and the boy who so desperately wanted to be loved.

David still doesn't understand why Charles chose to abandon him. wouldn't he have been safer in the protective embrace of a father who understood him ?? instead, he felt banished to the realms of insanity, locked away with nothing but the voices to keep him company. it hurts- oh how it hurts. David just wants his father to love him. why doesn't he love him ??

David.

no, he's not going to listen. he doesn't want to right now. everything is always so loud- for the moment, he relishes in the silence. then, he finally speaks, his voice quiet, shattered by the broken pieces of what's left of his sanity. does Charles know ?? does he see his son, broken beyond repair ??

"it's not your fault," he says finally, eyes cast downwards. the voices threaten to break through the barriers, but he keeps the volume low. all he wants right now is to hear his father's voice. nothing else is important to him now. "you didn't know what was going to happen. i mean - you abandoned me, but you thought . . . you thought that was for the best. right ?? you gave me away to keep me safe. it wasn't because you didn't want me . . . right?"

oh, this again ?? we've talked about this.

he didn't want you, David.

don't listen to him, David. i'm sure he wanted us- you.

David's frown deepens, eyebrows pinched together as he tries to ignore the voices in his head. he wonders if Charles can hear them, too. he wonders what he must think about him- about them. would he still want him if he knew about all the things inside his head ?? he chews on his fingernails, uncertain; the fear of abandonment keeps him from speaking his truth. he just wants to be loved. can his father love him now ??

Asriel smirked and leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed as he watched the professor with an amused glint in his eyes. ❝A nap? Well, I suppose even the mighty Charles Xavier needs his beauty sleep,❞ he said, his voice edged with playful sarcasm. He crossed the room, glancing at the stack of books on Charles's desk and thumbing through one of them idly. ❝Here I thought you were deep in contemplation, unravelling the mysteries of the universe.❞ He glanced back, giving Xavier a wry smile.

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