「 The Professor & I 」VOLUME II

(158) Tragically Trapped

Lynn's POV

The echo of a loud clash and scurried footsteps that faded into the distance filled the air but despite the glaring lights that seeped through my eyelids, my eyes failed to open and my lips were unsuccessful in muttering the name I was dying to call out.

My struggles were recognized and the sweet voice of Charles came to me like a lullaby as he immediately reduced me into a state of slumber. Darkness and tranquility seemed to surround the peaceful rest Charles resolved me to but dreadful scenes soon infiltrated my mind.

Charles in a wheelchair again, dressed typically well in a navy pinstriped three-piece as he casually placed a further modernized helmet of Cerebro onto his head but the moment the supercomputer was powered on by his brainwaves, his body tensed and convulsed, essentially like it was experiencing a terrible pain. He winced and grimaced, hastily yanking off the alien-like headpiece and it crashed to the floor as he strenuously pushed himself away from the console, all strangely using only his right hand.

Trying to escape the large dome room, he hurriedly swiveled his automated chair around but before getting anywhere safe or the assistance he direly required, whatever that plagued him caused his body to slump and his unconscious frame crumbled involuntarily off his seat and onto the bridge, with his chest rises weakening to almost to a null when I jolted myself awake.

Shooting my eyes open to a dim environment, I heard myself panting when a warm palm moved on my skin, gently stroking my forehead. As I shifted my gaze, an incandescent light came on, illuminating Charles' worried face and his physique tragically trapped in that manual wheelchair.

The heartache evoked by the sight of his paralyzed legs was so tremendous, it was nearly indescribable apart from feeling like I was being continuously devoured from inside out. Hot tears collected, brimmed, and even when I made a conscious effort to stop them from falling, Charles was fully aware of my overpowering need to vent the sorrows churning within me as he cupped my face in his hand.

Just let it out, Lynn, he urged as he squeezed my palm and the droplets of grief automatically found their way down my cheeks, gushing fervently from the corners of my eyes like a ruptured dam in absolutely no control.

Charles meticulously wiped them and despite their constant reemergence that rendered his actions pointless, he diligently persisted nonetheless, until they ran out without serving their purpose of alleviating the suffering. Tiredly, I pushed myself up from the mattress and my frail arms trembled, almost giving way as I attempted to drag the lifeless part of me towards the headboard when another pair of delicate arms snaked themselves around me.

It was unclear if it hurt me or him more that Charles could only watch as Jean carefully helped me into a half sitting position. It was mostly comfortable to lay against the fluffed cushions, except for the familiar searing in my spine that was only partially obscured from Charles' posture of uneasiness.

Unable to look at his unfortunate face, I stared at the duvet draped sloppily over my front and it unknowingly triggered my hand to whip them open. Charles aimed to halt the motion as his hand approached but I put mine out to stop his, and even though I avoided his eye contact, it was certain that he lowered and retracted his arm reluctantly.

Plucking up some courage, I flipped away the sheets and trailed my fingers down from my abdomen, abruptly losing track of it as it passed the level of my pelvis. My hand moved warily towards my inanimate legs, but it was almost too much to take and my fists instinctively clenched, grabbing a bunch of fabric with it and the hem of my night gown was lifted to reveal a long scar on my thigh at the exact spot that was bleeding out before.