ᴛʜᴇ ʙʟᴜᴇ ᴡɪᴛᴄʜ ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦

You had tagged along with Erik and Charles because they believed you could help. Whether or not you believed that yourself was another matter.

Now, you were crammed in the back of a bumpy truck with Erik, Charles, and Moira, heading toward a hidden Soviet military retreat deep in the Russian wilderness. The air was tense, thick with the kind of silence that only comes before something dangerous. The road twisted through dense woods, the only sounds the engine's rumble and the occasional bump that jostled everyone in their seats.

You tried to steady your breathing. If you were being honest with yourself, you were scared. Your powers were still raw—powerful, yes, but unpredictable. You hadn't been on a real mission before, and now you were driving into what could be a trap.

Erik must've sensed it. He gently took your hand in his, his grip firm but warm. You looked at him, and he offered a rare, reassuring smile.

"It'll be alright," he said quietly. "We handle this like professionals. Stick close to me."

You nodded, but your heart was pounding.

Suddenly, the small door to the driver's cabin opened.

"We've got a problem," the driver said grimly.

"What?" you asked, tension rising.

"I'm so sorry. This wasn't on the map," Moira said, peering out the front window. Up ahead, a checkpoint had appeared—heavily armed Russian guards manning a fortified gate.

Charles took a breath and climbed forward. "No matter what happens, act normally. I'll take care of this, alright?" he said to Moira before sliding the door shut.

He turned to the rest of you. "Now, listen. No sudden moves. No suspicious looks. Let me work. Y/n, don't use your powers unless it's absolutely necessary."

You nodded again, hands already glowing faintly with blue light just in case. You couldn't help it—your powers responded to your nerves like a second heartbeat.

Then, gently, Erik placed his hand over yours again, grounding you. "You'll know when it's the right time," he said softly.

The truck slowed. You heard the guards shout something in Russian. Charles stood slowly and pushed open the rear doors of the truck.

"Easy, easy. Take it easy, chaps," Charles said smoothly, stepping out into the open, his British accent oddly disarming even here.

You held your breath, peering through a crack in the truck's door. One of the guards climbed in and swept his eyes across all of you. For a moment, it felt like everything would fall apart.

But then the guard's expression softened, his eyes glazed over slightly. Charles was already in his mind.

The soldier muttered something in Russian, waved his hand, and stepped back out. The checkpoint gate opened.

You exhaled in relief as the truck began moving again.

Charles climbed back in, slightly pale from the strain.

"You alright, Y/n?" he asked, sitting beside you.

"I'm fine," you said. "Are you okay? You look like that took a lot out of you."

"I'm fine," Charles replied with a small smile. "Thanks."

⸻

A while later, you were all crouched in a shallow ditch with binoculars, overlooking the target facility. A helicopter had just landed outside a grand building, and a tall woman in a white coat and hat stepped out. She walked with the poise of someone important—and dangerous.

"That's her," Charles said. "But where's Shaw?"

"Where is Shaw?" Erik asked sharply.

Charles squinted. "I don't know."

"But if she's a telepath," he continued, "and I—or Y/n—try to read her mind, she'll know we're here."

"Noted," you said, adjusting your grip on the binoculars. "Don't poke around in the ice queen's head. Got it."

"Let me try something else," Charles murmured, touching two fingers to his temple. You and Erik watched as he focused intensely. The air around him seemed to still.

You followed the woman through your binoculars as she approached two guards at the entrance. She paused, exchanged words, and disappeared inside.

Charles blinked. "He's not coming. Shaw's not here."

"What now?" you asked, turning to Moira.

"Now, nothing," she said. "We're here for Shaw. Mission aborted."

"The hell it is," Erik snapped, already rising from the brush.

"Erik, wait—" You grabbed his arm, trying to stop him.

"She's his right hand," he said, eyes burning with purpose. "That's good enough for me."

"The CIA invading the home of a senior Soviet official? Are you crazy?" Moira whispered harshly.

"I'm not CIA," Erik muttered, and he walked off.

"Erik!" Charles whisper-shouted, but it was no use.

You stood. "We have to go after him. He'll get himself killed."

Charles nodded reluctantly. "Let's move. Quietly."

You took one last breath, your hands tingling with that familiar hum of blue energy. The mission was about to go off-book, and you had a feeling things were about to get very dangerous.