he wasn't charles


Erik had found her. He wasn't Charles, but he was someone. She wasn't entirely sure she could trust him, but she wasn't entirely sure she could trust herself, either. He'd found her and he needed help. Her help. He had no one else to turn to, he'd said. Sometimes she felt like the last person anyone tried to come to for help, but sometimes she preferred it that way. As she drove, she had a lot of time to think. Erik wasn't a huge conversationalist, and after he'd gotten past the initial explanation, they'd driven the majority of the way in silence, just the low crooning of the radio to break up the sound of the engine and the tires as they flew across the asphalt.

He told her to drive, so she did. There was no specific destination in mind, she just kept going as far as she could, taking small highways when they presented themselves until they were lost amongst trees and a sickening amount of nature. She was beginning to have hope that eventually Charles would make an appearance, but she was also beginning to see that having her host on her side, cluing her into what was happening and what she did when she had been shoved into the background, might be a good idea. It wasn't as if she didn't trust Rosie, but Raven wasn't accustomed to giving control to anyone else, either. She preferred to be in charge of her own fate and the idea of leaving it in the hands of a human frightened her. Still, when the week was up, she knew she would return to her oblivion and that time away from her host did nothing for either of them. Maybe it would be better if she gave the other woman some clues. Something other than a cryptic message she couldn't decipher.

She stopped at a drug store before they found the dingy inn and purchased some gauze and wound care items. And then when she'd put the bag of stuff in the sink while he examined himself in the mirror, she ordered pizza and turned on the television. It was old and static-y and didn't get anything other than some local news channel, so she turned it off. She sat against the headboard of the bed she'd claimed for herself and crossed her legs at the ankle, turning her head up to the ceiling and examining an old brown water stain that looked like it was in the shape of one of the finger lakes.

"Hey," she called to the man in the bathroom, "why do you think this is happening to us? Are we being punished for something? Did someone finally find a way to eradicate us?" There had been so many attempts in the past to extinguish their powers, or to kill them off entirely. So many had tried and very few had succeeded. But now she was beginning to wonder if she'd misjudged the ambition of those who would seek to hurt her and the rest of the mutant race. "And... what are we going to do about it?"