Come Home (Cherik fanfiction)

Chapter Eighteen

Alex

Dear Prof.,

Woke up alone in the Rec. Room the next morning with a headache from hell and a missing paraplegic. Hank says it's rude to say things like that, but it's true.

We're not entirely lost without you . . . but . . . When the hell are you getting back? 

We need you.

Hank's always holed up in his lab, always muttering something about the 'frequency patterns' of the Red Dude with the Tail. He just walked past my room and that's exactly what he said (I added the nickname, but you know what I mean.) He's not okay, okay? He won't talk to me or Sean, and he hasn't eaten in four days. If you actually do get these, will you please send some airborne mental cure or something, please? Beast is getting on my last nerve, like he's the only one who's miserable. I know it might be his own way of coping, don't even start with me on that.

Throwing a fit isn't going to help anyone at this point.

Sean isn't much better. He;s always walking around in his Charlie Brown pj's with this thoughtful look on his face. (On that I want to punch off). You may say that that wasn't nice or necessary, but it's true.

I don't know what to do, Professor. Are you even getting these? Raven visited last night with the Frosty chick and the Red Devil [see also, Red Dude with the Tail] and they swore on their unmarked graves that they'd deliver these, so I wrote one on the fluke chance they actually do.

I've kept up with training. There are a few locked doors in the mansion, one of them being your room. Was that on purpose? Did you run away with Lensherr? I don't think so, but I heard Sean whisper something about it last night ago through the walls and it got my brain wondering.

I hope it's okay, but I unlocked one of the oak one on the second floor. I don't know why you didn't think I'd understand. I saw all he dried blood and the broken window and all the papers. I sent them with this letter just in case you . . . I don't know, but the idea of them in this house while you're gone just cracks me a little.

My dad, in case you didn't know, was the same way. He never did quite . . . take it that far, but it got to the point that I had to singe him a little so he'd back off from my mom. Mom was too drugged up half the time to even care, and I had to take care of Scotty. I get it, I swear. I mean, I never wanted to die, but I understand why you might have felt that way. Completely.

How's he treating you there? I hope you give him hell everyday. The guy's a dick, I don't care if he's your friend. I don't know if you've seen Raven yet, but my god is she different. Was she sent to military school by any chance?

As much as I hate to ask, how's Angel? Not for my sake, but more for Sean's. In case you didn't know, she and him had quite the rouse of musical beds, and I only torture you with this information, because you were the one who put my room RIGHT NEXT TO HIS.

Damn you, sir.

Just a shot in the dark, but where are you? Sean . . . he's suspicious you eloped, as I said before, but even if you did, owuld you at least let me know where I can turn to you. Cause, I mean, I do need you, Prof. X. You're about all I have anymore.

Tried to visit Scotty in his foster home and he says he has to play with his new truck to today and that I'd have to come back later.

I sort of . . . set fire to my bed . . . sorry. Meditating doesn't help, and I swear to god, if you mention any self-help stress books, I will always make your tea too hot.