Come Home (Cherik fanfiction)

Chapter Six

Third Point Of View

Things were as tense in the Xavier mansion for the next week as it was in the with the rag-tag group of the newborn Brotherhood.

Alex kept a more watchful eye on Charles after Raven's little visit. He followed him around almost everywhere, like a shadow. He demanded that Charles accompany him outside on his morning runs and that he return to observing him with his training.

Charles really didn't mind this. Despite what Hank had argued, it had been doing him good to be so mobile. All the work he was doing with the manual chair as opposed to the electric Hank had made him was gaining him muscle and toning him more. It was very beneficial, and the company was good. He got to teach -- in a way -- again, and he got to have freedom.

Alex's new-found attachment came in particular handy when the boys sat him down the night after Raven left.

He knew that the boys were scheming around to get all the information out of him that they could about the visit, and he didn't try to stop them. As petulant as the threat was that Raven had warned him about was, it was still something they deserved to know.

He just didn't know how he could explain it to three traumatized boys.

Meanwhile, Erik was having a difficult time with Emma's information.

If anything, this was speeding up his little plan to get Charles by his side again. For one thing, he had to see for himself what the hell was going on, because for all he knew, Frost could have been lying to him cold. Logically, he didn't see a reason why she would, but it was better than believing that Charles . . . that he made Charles . . . That he hurt Charles.

And the want was becoming a bit much. The pure self-loathing and aching that came with Charles's absence had not been planned when he left or something that had been anticipated, but now that it was here, he just wanted it gone. He wanted to wash it away, but he found that even the hotest shower that scorched his skin or the icy of ones that made him feel like he was back Russia.

He had never wanted

Charles

Charles had gotten up much earlier and gotten ready for the day, locking the door as to not be disturbed. He could hear them all mentally prepare their questions on the first floor of the mansion.

Sean, surprisingly, was the most nervous of them all. He and Charles weren't particularly close and he had always been sort of an outsider. He wasn't very sociable with people older than him; something commonly found in normal teenagers. He didn't know what was too awkward to ask and he didn't know what was off limits.

He was just lost.

Hank was more confident of himself. He was still a very shy boy. Even in his more intimidating suit of skin, he thought cowardly at the thought of confrontation. He was so desperate for acceptance in his new form, which he had found undoubtedly with Sean, Alex, and Charles. He and Charles were close, more than likely due to his constant seeing of him.

He didn't want to upset any of those relationships.

His questions were logical, and they each had a plan. Most of them were in a string; a chain. He had planned on a certain series following itself: this question followed by answer A or answer B followed by sub answer A, B, C, or D per first answer, and so on. It could have been made into an essay.

Alex was . . . undecided.

He had quite the facade going, but he was genuinely curious. At the same time, he respected his mentor's privacy and space. He didn't want to overstep himself or something equally detrimental. He just wanted to know whatever seemed available.