「 The Professor & I 」VOLUME II

(156) Downfall

Charles' POV

Cuba, Paris, Cairo, Siberia; innocent cities that could undeniably pose as wondrous holiday destinations to any other ordinary and blissful married couple. Yet they were sinners to us, witnessing time and again the tragedy of our downfall.

According to the accounts of Jean and Storm communicated through our radio systems, Lynn's body conceded to her grave injuries, passing out halfway through the flight, aligning with the increasing weakness channeling within me. Ironically, her constant yet faint heartbeat that suggested her life on a brink was the only thing keeping me alive while I anxiously awaited her arrival back home in that godforsaken chair Hank assisted me into.

Given the severity of the situation I preferred to have dealt with privately, I had Scott entertain Moira, with the covert agenda of sending her away, whilst Hank and I headed to the hangar.

Lamenting and cursing surely plagued my mind for condoning her stubbornness make this trip at all but recognizing that it would not serve to alleviate our plight, the surprising amount of rationality still within me suppressed those awful thoughts enough for me to appear composed when my heart was really wrenching inside.

The roof soon retracted and Lynn's X-Jet was seen gradually descending as the soft hum of Hank's stealth engines filled the wide area. Touching down, the air stair was promptly deployed and a muscular male youth cradled Lynn's unconscious frame from the cabin, with Jean tailing closely.

"Follow me," Hank instructed and the young man, the student Lynn so passionately went after, obediently complied.

Straining my biceps as I rolled myself through the sleek hallways, trying my best to keep up with a limping Hank and even the able-bodied teen in spite of the relentless throbbing in my spine, I finally made it to the operating theatre but my fingers grabbed stinging cool metal rims, hesitant to enter.

Apparently, my body knew before I did that my heart could not again stand the sight of seeing Cuba reenact itself.

"Don't worry, Professor. We'll do our best," Jean comforted and I shut my eyes, merely hearing the heavy doors swish close.

"Storm, take him upstairs, please," I ordered politely and even without opening my eyes, I knew she froze in position, uncertain to leave me alone, giving the newcomer a chance to speak.

"I'm really sorry, Professor. I didn't expect for them to come this fast. I-" He rambled on but the urge to end his speech was practically bursting through its seams.

"Are you hurt?" I interrupted shakily, craning my neck to look up at the tall boy.

"No," he answered plainly but with a baffled expression.

"Good. Or she would have sacrificed for nothing," I commented cheerlessly.

"I know she did what she did to protect you. It's not your fault, Peter. Don't worry about it," I consoled, attempting to sound as sincere and convincing as I could manage.

"Storm will take you to your room and prepare you for your class that starts tomorrow," I informed and signaled for them to leave.

"I'll be fine, Storm. Just go," I reiterated, simply yearning for some physical peace to compensate for the serenity elusive to my mind and heart, and she obliged at long last.

The seconds that bounced away on my watch echoed like a clamorous drumming within the polished walls of the empty corridors. Yet, as irritating as it was, I listened closely to the repetitive rhythm, desperate for the hypnotic tempo to bring me someplace else, someplace where she was safe and out of harm's grasp, someplace good.

Closing my eyes again and immersing myself in perpetual darkness remained futile to erase the grief that involuntarily cascaded from deeply within, especially when the rushed footsteps of Erik and Scott resembling a warrior's march sounded to disrupt the continuous ticking.

"Charles, we have a problem," Erik declared and the tension in his voice was obvious even without giving him so much as a glimpse.

"Evidently," I scoffed, heaving a sigh as I had my gaze fixed to a blank point on the opposite wall.

"I'm sorry. That's not what I meant," Erik clarified remorsefully and with some mental visualisation of the motion, I swivelled my chair around to face him, though with not quite the speed or smoothness I imagined.

"What do you mean, then?" I snapped, not bothered to contain my displeasure as I blatantly glared at him.

"We received an SOS call from Mystique's jet and I checked our map..." Scott stammered and my escalating impatience resulting from his stuttering had me yielding the horrific information myself.

"Her plane vanished?!" I investigated hysterically, almost shouting, and Scott nodded sheepishly as Erik came behind me.

"Erik, no," I begged, taking a firm grip on my wheels.

"I can do this," I insisted and he reluctantly released the handle bars.

Regardless that my palms were bitten by the cold curved surface, my muscles were screaming in pain at every cycle or my wrists were sore and swollen with overexertion, I pushed myself in the only transportation that still worked to gift me some mobility, mustering a nonchalant front for even with their thoughtful discretion, it was clear that the men were moderating their strides to a pace slow enough for my highly tedious efforts of depressingly sluggish movement to be delusively maintained alongside them.

Difficultly but ultimately making it to the main control deck and having my retinal features scanned, the detector recognised me. The speakers reproduced its typical welcome message and the huge doors glided apart to an inner chamber packed with Hank's computers. Scott fiddled professionally with the settings to display a chart of the geographical vicinity depicted in white against the black screen, with Raven's flight plan highlighted by a green path.

"According to the logs, they were last seen in Alberta. I tried to reach out to them but there was no response and there is absolutely no signal from their aircraft anymore," Scott elaborated dejectedly and I stared at the frantically blinking red alphanumeric characters illustrated next to the graphics, processing the series of shocking records as calmly as my mind would allow.

"Charles, I know you're upset. So let me deal with this, alright?" Erik offered earnestly, distracting me from the devastating figures, and a pang of guilt hit me for venting my frustrations on them.

"Thank you, Erik. And I'm sorry," I mumbled, hanging my head low.

"It's alright. I'll get the girls," Erik affirmed and strutted to the exit.

"Be careful, Erik," I warned and he turned his back, smiling, and nodded in acknowledgment before he left.

Erik's team quickly assembled, settling their necessary preparations and departed the mansion at the earliest possible instant to embark on their rescue mission. Sending Scott back to the kids, I tiredly found my way back to the doors that thankfully obscured the view of Lynn's battered body.

The hours passed more agonizingly than I recalled but the eventual reduction in frailty and seemingly growing health that surged through my veins, essentially like my body was being healed internally, diverted my attention from the evoked speculation of the means by which I actually survived this torture in the past.

Soon, but not as soon as I anticipated, Jean emerged from within the ward in her doctor's gown, smiling feebly as she removed her mask and crouched down before me.

"We got her," she announced softly but basically, everything was still the same.

XXXXX

Good morning guys. More suspense here, there, everywhere. What's happened to Mystique and gang in Alberta? 😏

Regardless, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, even when it's not quite so enjoyable. Don't forget to vote & comment to let me know your thoughts too 😘

PS: SPLIT IS OUT TODAY IN SINGAPORE! 🇸🇬