Captivity Was Never An Option

[Erik Lehnsherr]

Magneto felt his head spinning and the darkness that otherwise consumed him, started to ebb away. He groaned under his breath as he attempted to move his head, feeling as if someone had pounded it repeatedly with a hammer. He forced his eyes open, the dim light still overwhelming as his hazy vision ever so slightly began to clear. Looking up at the ceiling he immediately recognized that he was not anywhere familiar. Though he had a rather quick idea of where he could be. He sat up, the abrupt motion making the pain in his head more severe but ignored it. Instead, he took in his surroundings. They were deep in the ground somewhere, surrounded by thick glass where all they could do was look up. He didn't yell, or shout, or angrily throw something. He just sat there as he quickly adjusted to wherever he was for while he may not know the specific location, he had been in places like this enough times to know that he was being held prisoner. And he knew there was no metal around. He could feel the absence of it, which rendered him quite useless.

He would have easily remained in this calm state for after having been imprisoned for ten years, nothing else compared. It was not until he saw another figure lying on the ground that everything shifted. That priorities seemed to change. That made Magneto feel an immediate need to get out. For on the ground, in the prison with him, was Charles Xavier. He quickly rushed over to his friend's side, turning him over so that he could see him. He was alive and Erik allowed that relief to wash over him. Sitting on the ground, he pulled Charles' somewhat on his lap, this position causing a quick flashback in Magneto's mind of that moment on the island where Charles had been shot, and Magneto had rushed to him afraid for the wound. It was something different though this time. Charles did not seem physically harmed, but the movement did not cause him to wake either. "Charles?" Erik questioned, his voice concerned for his friend. "Charles, wake up," He urged, giving him a slight shake so that he would join him in consciousness. After all that he and Charles had been through, it seemed that they were going to go through yet another obstacle.

Tag Charles & Magda

[x]

Charles had been on morphine before. In the aftermath of Cuba, he’d spent months going through various surgeries aimed at salvaging what could be saved of his shattered spine and damaged spinal cord. The morphine had been the one pleasant thing about those months, wrapping him in a cocoon of fuzziness and isolating him from the pain of the world.

Sedation was a little like that, only instead of pleasant fuzziness, it was more comparable to waking from a massive blow to the head. Everything was swimming and his head ached and Charles had no idea what had happened. Trying to gather his thoughts was akin to grasping at smoke. Nothing stuck and every thought trailed off or cut off before it could get anywhere concrete and what the hell had happened to him?

He was barely aware of being jostled about, of laying on a rather hard surface, and it was proving unfairly difficult to establish a connection with his viable extremities.

“Charles?”

That voice...it was familiar...very familiar. Hazy images of his study back in Westchester, a chess board, and the grit of sand flashed through his mind as he tried to place the voice.

“Charles, wake up!”

There was a small shake, and Charles let out a low groan as he clawed his way to some sort of wakefulness. He knew that voice. He knew that voice very well. It could inspire admiration, anger, fear, concern, care, lo—Charles pried his eyes open and tried to adjust to the dim lighting.

Erik. The voice was Erik. Charles immediately went slack in relief. Erik was here. As long as Erik was with him, everything would be okay. Even though there was something niggling in the back of his mind, Charles felt nothing but relief.

“Hello, old friend,” Charles said—or rather, he tried to say, though he probably horribly slurred the words beyond any actual comprehension. Was he drunk? No, no that couldn’t be it. Charles could barely move, let alone think. Alcohol had never affected him so badly in the past.

All of the questions made his head hurt even worse than it already did, so Charles shoved his thoughts to the side and tried to focus instead on Erik. Erik was with him. Erik was touching him. Erik was speaking to him. Really, how bad could their situation truly be? Charles reached out to Erik’s mind, but immediately withdrew when pain exploded behind his eyeballs.

...What exactly was their situation?

[Magda Eisenhardt]

Magda laughed, and lifted her hand to cover her smile as Toad retold some humorous tale. There was a whole group of them, laughing and joking--just enjoying the day. Her head fell back as she dropped to hands to hold her sides, while the mutant hopped and reenacted parts. It was not until a few of them gasped that Magda even noticed someone else entering the room. It was one of the younger mutants that had gone off with Erik . . . .returning alone . . . with Erik's helmet in his hand. . . . no . . . .

Magda pushed to her feet, and past everyone that was piling up around the new comer. 'What happened?' someone asked, and the mutant held the helmet closer, 'They took him!' By this time, Magda had gotten close enough to grab the kid by his shirt and push him backwards into the wall, "You mean you let them take him!" Erik! She had to get to him! Never again should anyone be at the hands of an enemy who would hurt them just because they were a mutant.

Someone pulled her back, and Magda stepped back while the story became clear. Erik, and another mutant who'd name the kid did not know, had been drugged and taken. They'd followed the men, so they at least knew where. Turning, Magda left the room . . . the humans had crossed a line, and this time they would pay dearly for their actions.

A few hours later she pulled up and parked the car in the parking deck, while a human guard came out to meet her. 'Good afternoon, I'm to take you Dr. Adams; he is expecting you.' Magda smiled softly while walking toward the man, however in her head she knew the evil doctor wasn't expecting the hell she was about to rain down on this place. "Wonderful, as I am in a bit of a hurry."

[Erik Lehnsherr]

Magneto felt another wave of relief wash over him when Charles opened his eyes and responded to him. While his words were slightly incoherent, Erik understood enough of them. He was conscious, though whatever they had drugged him with had been strong. Their kidnappers had known enough about them to contain them in a facility that held no trace of metal, and to severely drug the telepath. Undoubtedly, this whole thing was about experimenting on their kind. Magneto could justify his own reason for being imprisoned for it had the possibility of being for reasons apart from experimentation -- considering he was one of the most wanted men in the world. But taking Charles affirmed that this was indeed about their abilities. For Charles was not a face to this war, nor anyone who tended to break the laws in the same way Erik did.

His eyes remained on Charles as he gave a slight nod, not about to push him to use his abilities when he could barley speak. At least his greeting was one better than the last they shared upon their former reunion. That meeting had been commenced with a punch across Magneto's face from Charles' fist. "Good to see you again," Erik stated, almost teasingly, in attempt to help lighten the mood even if it was just in the slightest way possible. "Though I would have hoped under better circumstances," he said with the same slight teasing in his voice. "How do you feel?" He asked, wondering if it was indeed just temporary drugs, or if there was something stronger and more serious that they injected in him.

[x]

The pain itself was brief, but it left sore, throbbing aftershocks that made Charles squeeze his eyes shut and wince. He couldn’t gather his thoughts; everything was ricocheting around inside his skull and it hurt to think. Thinking hadn’t caused him so much pain since he was a child and still grappling with control over his telepathy.

At least whatever it was that was affecting him only seemed to worsen when he used his mutation. Which would likely cause him greater trouble in the near future, for however long he was affected, as his mutation wasn’t exactly something he could turn on and off like a tap. Charles took as deep a breath as he could manage and attempted to steel himself for the immediate future.

The worst of it was that he couldn’t even cleave to Erik’s mind. Erik’s wonderful mind. The most beautiful and entrancing mind Charles had ever had the honor to experience, and whatever it was he had gotten into was preventing him from it. Charles groaned again and shifted in a quickly aborted attempt to sit up. His head swam from the exertion, and Charles had never felt so frustrated in his life.

"Good to see you again," Erik said, and Charles felt a smile spread across his face, despite it all. "Though I would have hoped under better circumstances.”

Yes, better circumstances. Like Erik coming back to Westchester, even if it wasn’t to stay. Though Charles would prefer it if he were to stay—given from what he’d witnessed in 1962, Erik would make a fine teacher himself if he gave it an honest shot.

"How do you feel?"

“Like shit,” Charles responded, giving up on trying to move and hoping he’d regained enough control over his tongue to make himself at least a bit more coherent. “Like the world’s worst hangover. Have I been sedated? Why are you here, Erik?”

And why was it taking him so long to regain control over his own body? What the hell had he gotten into, to be so thoroughly put down?

[Magda Eisenhardt]

Magda followed the guard down the halls, and took note of everything around her. The guards seemed armed with electric shock stun batons rather then long rang weaponry like guns, though there were a few of them around. Amusement at their safety measures caused the corner of one side of her lip to twitch. How quaint.

As they arrived at the office, Magda used her powers to make an alarm go off along the south wall. The doctor, and older man who had clearly spent too much time in lab and not enough time outside based on how pale he was, had just opened his wooden office door when he paused at the radio's words. The guard's radio went off almost instantly, and he looked at it, then her before telling her to go on in and running off to help investigate it.

'Apologies for the inconvenience,' Dr. Adam's told her, gesturing to his office door, 'but thank you for coming down.' "You could not keep me away." She promised, not bothering to smile. The doctor nodded, and moved to shut the office door now that they were both in it. 'So you said on the phone you knew a dangerous mutant. I can assure you we can get them off the streets, keep the devils locked up and away from good folk. You know what they say, devils come in threes, and I've two locked away down below.' Down below? That narrowed it down some.

His back was to her while he shut the door, and Magda kicked the back of his knee to make it buckle and he cried out as he began to fall, but before he could hit the ground, she slammed her elbow into the back of his neck to pin him against the door, hanging awkwardly there. "And I'm the third, come to set him free."

[Erik Lehnsherr]

Magneto watched Charles attempt to move and sit up, the actions clearly causing strain to the mutant. At least whatever they gave him had not killed him or had not caused permanent damage . . . hopefully. The question still remained of how exactly they had come here. It was rather convenient that it just so happened to be Erik and Charles that were the ones captured. Magneto returned the expression that Charles offered; a smile, regardless of the grim situation they found themselves in. Erik was not worried though. There would be an opportunity to escape and when that time came, they would both be prepared for it. Confinement did not scare Magneto. For he was a solider in this war so naturally, a few imprisonments would come along his path of battle.

Charles offered a answer with the utmost honestly which caused Erik's expression to remain. He then asked if he had been sedated, and why Erik was here. "You have been heavily sedated," Erik confirmed. "With what, I am unsure. But at least it has not taken your sense of humor nor your wit," he told him teasingly, still attempting to create a lighter mood in the midst of their captivity. "I imagine I am here for the same reason you are," he began to tell him. The details of their imprisonment were just as unknown to Magneto as they were to Charles. "How we came to be here, I do not know. But they have us contained in a glass prison to refrain from any attempt to escape on my part." Bastards. "And they seemed to have sedated you to prevent you from using your own powers." Which meant . . . "Whoever took us, are knowledgeable of our abilities." They knew that the two of them were mutants. And Erik knew they planned to use that somehow.

[x]

Erik was smiling, Charles noted with a rush of satisfaction. Erik had such a wonderful smile, especially when it was just a smile and not a sly smirk that promised some sort of chaos to follow. (Though Charles sincerely adored those as well.) Charles had missed that, had missed seeing Erik smile. He missed a lot of things about Erik, to be honest.

“You have been heavily sedated,” Erik confirmed, and Charles let out a small snort. Of course he’d been sedated. Hank had taken great care to either hide or destroy his notes on the serum that had given Charles his legs at the cost of his telepathy, and the serum had never had such a horrid effect on him.

“With what, I am unsure,” Erik continued, oh, and he didn’t he have the most wonderful voice? “But at least it has not taken your sense of humor nor your wit.”

Bastard, Charles thought, fondly and without a hint of sarcasm. Maybe he even said it aloud. How very like Erik to crack a joke while Charles was barely lucid.

“I imagine I am here for the same reason you are. How we came to be here, I do not know. But they have us contained in a glass prison to refrain from any attempt to escape on my part.”

Well that was rather unsporting, now wasn’t it? Was that the reason Charles had been sedated with a drug from hell? It seemed rather likely, given what Erik said, but then again, Erik always was distrustful and paranoid. Of course Charles understood why, but it was really the only thing Charles disliked about the man.

“And they seem to have sedated you to prevent you from using your own powers.”

Well screw them, they’d have to get in line. Charles had spent years voluntarily keeping himself under a sort of sedation to keep his mind at peace for once in his life. Erik still used that ruddy helmet of his that looked like a malformed cock to keep him out, and let’s not even get started on the long list of people who demanded that he stay out of their heads.

"Seriously, let’s not; it was depressing," he muttered, not even really realizing that the words escaped him at all.

"Whoever took us, are knowledgeable of our abilities."

“Bloody brilliant deduction,” Charles muttered, slightly more aware of his words. “What was your first hint, love? The glass or the heavy sedation?”

At least he seemed to have regained the capability of spitting out fully formed words, though how much sense those words actually made Charles was still a bit fuzzy on. Come to think of it, did he use the right word?

“Sedition? Sedation? Seduction? One of those.”

[Magda Eisenhardt]

Doctor Adams set behind his desk and watched Magda with wide eyes as she sat on his desk and watched him. "Are you going to make me repeat myself? I hate that." A warning given in all fairness because the gun in her hand (one he tried to pull on her once she'd dropped him from her head lock) was not pointed at his head, but rather his knee cap. "You have more then one of these, and I am not afraid to shot you, even if the noise will draw attention." He glared at her before telling her what she had asked, 'The one they called Magneto, and the school teacher. We put them together in the basement. There is only one cell down their right now.' Magda jumped from the desk and smiled, "If you are lying to me, I will come back up here." With that she used the but of the gun to smack his head, and knock him out.

School teacher? Who else did they have? Clearly Erik had been trying to met someone today, but Magda wasn't sure who else they had taken. Unless . . . unless they meant a professor? "Xavier." She had met Charles before, but before she joined with the Brotherhood. She knew he was friends with Erik, a friendship even she had trouble understanding for they were so very different. Yet she knew why Erik was fond of him, for they had formed the bond before they saw how different they saw the world. A view she had come to share with Erik.

Humans needed to die, in order for mutant to survive.

Magda walked down the hall toward the lifts, and their were some guards there with the batons. Using her powers she made the electricity in them backfire and take down the six men without her step even faltering. Still using her powers, she made one of the lifts open, and Magda stepped in. As the doors shut, she made it go down. Opening the gun she took note of the rubber bullets. "That wont do." Dropping the clip to the floor, Magda pulled another from her pocket and pushed it into the gun, before cocking it. Metal bullets. A gift.

[Erik Lehnsherr]

It was rather ironic that Charles mocked him for stating the obvious, and yet the man was having difficulty speaking coherently. His words were forming a bit better, less slurred, but it was what he was saying that revealed his still existing incoherence. Referring to him as love, which Erik had never heard him say before when speaking to him, and then needlessly correcting himself when he said sedation, somehow his mind reaching the words sedition and seduction. Whatever the hell they were giving him had worked and had serious after affects. Erik looked up for a moment, trying to see if there was any sign of anyone really so that he could start to determine what organization had arranged for their capture. He was not about to tease or mock Charles for his difficulty in forming words and vocalizing his thoughts. He only wished there was something he could do to make the drugs wear off quicker than they seemed to be doing. Which was far too slow.

"I have no idea what they gave you, my friend, but it may be best if you not speak." Conserve what energy he had. Allow his mind to rest and not try to process information and form words. Erik knew that it was slightly contradicting as he had been the one to wake Charles up in the first place. But now that he found relief in that he was alive and somewhat conscious, Erik did not want Charles to force himself up if his entire body and mind protested. Erik now rose to his feet, moving to a more central area under the glass so that he could look up and attempt to see something, anything, that could give them a hint or indication of where they were and who had taken them. If they knew that, then they would at least have information to start working with.

[x]

When whatever it was that they’d injected him with wore off, Charles was going to find out who was responsible for it and make them spend a week thinking themselves to be drooling infants. His head was killing him once again, the result of smaller, abortive attempts made by his telepathy to reach out to Erik’s mind. Once he was out of wherever he was and the sedative had worked its way out of his system, he was going to have to figure out a way to rein in his subconscious.

"I have no idea what they gave you, my friend, but it may be best if you not speak."

“Only if you keep talking,” Charles replied. For some reason, his head felt infinitely better when Erik was speaking. “I like your voice. Don’t like the quiet. It’s been quiet for too long.”

Far, far too long. Years of total silence save for his own thoughts chasing themselves round and round, and his own thoughts were not particularly nice to him. He knew he wasn’t in the best state of mind, and he was going to look back on this in horror and wonder why the hell he’d let himself say certain things, but at the moment, he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. Erik was with him, and that was what mattered. If he tried, he could pretend he still felt his toes and Cuba had never happened and Erik had never let. He shouldn’t, though. Wishing never did anyone any good. Even in the old fairy tales and legends, wishes never turned out well.

Erik got up, and a terribly sad noise escaped Charles at the loss of contact. He couldn’t feel Erik’s mind, drugged as he was, and he’d spent a lifetime surrounded by people but never coming into physical contact with them once.

“Don’t leave,” he said, scrambling up onto his elbows, valiantly trying to ignore the explosions of pain occurring in his head. “Please, Erik, don’t leave.”

[Magda Eisenhardt]

'She's on your floor! Terminate them! Do it before they get free!' The call over the radio caused him to jump, and open the door that lead to the observation deck, which allowed the doctors to see the mutants in the cage. 'Kill the air for the containment cell!' The call over the radio came. The young guard looked down through the glass at the two men below him before he said 'I'm sorry' Before he pressed the button, and vents opened near the top of the cell, sucking the air from the room.

---

Magda used her powers to check out the hall way before the lift doors opened. It was clear for the moment, but that wouldn't last long. Cutting the power to the cameras once the doors opened, Magda only paused long enough to get her bearings . . . and to see the lift doors across from her opening, with a cart full of guard in it. Raising her hand, she made the doors slam close, one man's hand even getting caught out in the hall with her. Making it go up to the top floor (and leaving the man's newly removed hand on the floor at her feet), Magda just her powers to cut the breaks. Turning as she began walking down the hall, and looking for the cell; Magda didn't pause when the lift crashed into the floor and caused everything to spill out into the hall.

[Erik Lehnsherr]

Charles told him to keep talking, liking the sound of his voice to break from any silence. That was something that Erik could easily understand. For during his decade long imprisonment, it was the silence and lack of company that could drive a man to madness. Had he not mediated and found ways to occupy his mind from entering the abyss of insanity, then he would have been destroyed. Then the humans would have won. So he could easily understand Charles need to hear someone else present. It wasn't until he saw his frantic realization that Erik had stepped away that he quickly turned to look at him, once again, entirely understanding of the need to not only hear someone, but to be near someone. Still. Seeing his friend in such a state was not easy. And it fueled his need for vengeance against those held them here.

"I'm right here, Charles," Erik assured in a low, calming voice, but loud enough to be heard by him. He began to step toward him so that Charles did not have to move for he seemed set on it after he'd broken contact, but Erik paused before he got far, distracted by others who were now looking down at them. In return, Erik looked up, trying to quickly determine who they were, gathering all he could. He heard the man say that he was sorry and then the vents open and something was happening. The apology was meaningless, and if anything, only made Erik more infuriated at the man. Apologizing as if the words would ease his own conscience. Erik quickly realized that the oxygen was being sucked out of the room. They were killing them. Why? What had changed? A list of possibilities fled through Erik's mind, but none of that helped this current situation. He had hoped there would have been some form of metal, even the smallest amount, but nothing. He was helpless. As helpless as Charles.

Not panicking in the face of death, he instead he walked calmly toward him, sitting on the ground next to him as he continued to look up. "I am sorry, old friend." Sorry that this was how it seemed to end for them. Were they not supposed to live long and full lives. Erik was far from defeated, but nor was he going to panic and run amok, begging for anyone who might hear to save his life. He would wait. For an opportune moment. For a stroke of luck. And while waiting, he was sitting next to his good friend. He put his hand on Charles' shoulder. His only regret was that Charles had to be in this cell with him, when he was the only who was a pacifist. Erik could feel his throat and lungs tightening, short, quiet gasps escaping him as he felt the drastic lack of oxygen starting to effect him.

[x]

“I’m right here, Charles,” Erik said, and Charles attempted to roll his eyes.

“Course you are,” he muttered, finally succeeding in sitting up. He leaned against the wall and held his head in his hands, wincing through the pain. What the hell had they drugged him with? “We’re stuck here, you can’t leave. Even if you want to.”

His head was getting fuzzier. It had been clearing, slowly but surely, but now it was regressing. Why? He wasn’t wearing something that would give him regular doses, was he? No, no, he would’ve felt the prick of a needle, wouldn’t he? Or was it designed to leech through his skin, maybe set up around his thigh, over his femoral artery?

Then it became harder to breathe. Dear God, whoever was holding them hostage was aiming to kill them. The thought was sharper than any needle, clearing than blown glass, and Charles immediately understood that someone was likely to die in the next thirty seconds. Like hell it was going to be him and Erik.

“I am sorry, old friend,” Erik said, and Charles would’ve found it ironic. Erik, roll over and die? Oh, how the times had changed.

Even drugged, even heavily sedated, there had to be something Charles could do. He braced himself for the pain and reached out with his mind. There was someone nearby, someone outside of their prison. He wasn’t protected from any telepathic assault beyond sedating Charles, but obviously their captors had underestimated him. And underestimating a telepath who had very little regard for his own well-being when faced with the welfare of others was a terrible mistake.

Charles shoved forward through the pain and gripped the guard’s mind: WHATEVER YOU DID, REVERSE IT. NOW.

And with that, all of Charles’s strength was gone. He let out a sharp cry and collapsed, the world cutting out to black.

[Magda Eisenhardt]

Pausing at a door way, Magda opened it to look in. It was empty, but it was the objects that gave her pause. It looked like an operating table, only with microscopes and chats filling it rather then things meant to keep someone alive. Along the wall was a list of experiment numbers, from all the failed attempts. Just under that there as a handwritten note 'They aren't strong enough to survive. Need a stronger test subject'. Enraged by the idea, Magda let out a scream while the lights above her exploded from the surge she filled it with, and the other electronics in the room did the same! HOW DARE THEY! They were going to do THIS to Erik! Or Charles! The humans! Magda fell silent, wishing she had a power stronger, so she could burn them down or take them apart. It was then something took her notice, and she stepped out of the room.

Magda could hear something big and powerful running behind the walls, and it caused her to move away and continue the short span of what was left of the hallway. It made the floor almost vibrate with the strength of it. It wasn't until she passed the doorway, however, that she could see what was happening. The young guard saw her and reached for his weapon; but Magda reacted first. Lifting her hand she turned the machine off, and reversed the power so that the little box near the guard would explode.

He jumped and dropped his weapon, as it slid over the glass. Running forward she beat him to it, knocking it away when he reached for it while placing her gun to his temple. "You were going to watch while you slowly took their lives away? Because they are what . . . . different?" He said nothing, "Allow me to return the favor."

Lowering the gun to his gut, she fired once. "Slowly." It would take a while for him to fade out. Pushing him away from her, Magda stood up, looking down at the glass, and through it until she found Erik. A smile touched her lips for a short half second from the feeling of relief of seeing him alive.

Standing she moved off one of the panels, and aimed the gun. There was no fear that she might hit him or Charles. Erik wouldn't let it happen. So Magda empty the clip, giving Erik 14 bullets to use. However he saw fit.

[Erik Lehnsherr]

He could tell that Charles was trying to do something; he was trying to use his telepathy no doubt. And it had cost him, for his cry filled the otherwise silent room as Erik hovered over him. It seemed that with what little strength Charles had left, he had used it up. Erik checked his pulse to ensure he wasn't dead, though it seemed futile considering the fact that the oxygen was slowly being sucked out of the room. Still. Erik spoke aloud his friend's name to see if he could hear him; if there was any consciousness in him. But nothing. Erik was about to lie on the ground next to him, letting the life slowly get sucked out of him. He was on his back, his eyes closed, bracing himself for being a fallen soldier in this war, when suddenly, his eyes shot open. He could sense something. Feel it so very close. He quickly rose to his feet, gasping a few times, but whatever this sensation was would be well worth it.

And it absolutely was. For looking down at him, was Magda. His lips curved upwards in a smile as he watched her kill the guard who had apologized to them. Seeing her perform this act gave him a whole surge of pleasure and fulfillment. He couldn't say that he was surprised to see her here. He could most certainly say though that he was immensely pleased. As she smiled at him, she then fired off the gun. That was what Magneto had sensed: the metal. So close by and it now serve as their salvation. He closed his eyes, holding out his hands as the bullets hit the glass, causing it to shatter and without needing to look, Magneto used his abilities to firstly stop them from hitting either him or Charles. And secondly, altered the size to create a large metal shield, allowing it to hover over Charles and himself so that the glass would not strike them either. It felt exhilarating. Being filled with this feeling of maneuvering the metal as he so pleased. He opened his eyes again, a smile still on his lips. This time, as he looked up at Magda, there was no barrier of glass between them.

He looked to Charles, tilting the metal shield so that the pieces of glass fell to the side for he would need to use that to lift Charles out of the cell. "We're getting out of here," he told him, whether he could hear him or not. If there was a chance that he could, then he wanted to provide Charles with reassuring words. That this would not be the day they died. He then removed the top layer of the shirt they had put him in. Unsettling, to think that they had changed him into a prisoner's attire. But they seemed to be rather thorough when checking him over for metal. And he was grateful for the underlaying shirt, even if it didn't have sleeves. He set the shirt on the surface above him, which would prevent him from cutting his hands on the glass. He then raised himself, causing him to slightly jump so that his hands could grip the edge of the floor above. With that leverage, he used his upper body strength to lift himself up, and managed to move onto the ground without Magda's aid, and without the need for any metal to assist.

[x]

Charles had maxed his powers out before. He’d been a child then, young and vulnerable and so desperate to make the pain stop that he’d blacked out half the county in a bid to get away from the beatings. That had been before Raven broke into his kitchen, before Charles had discovered what an anchor was. He’d knocked himself out for nearly a week, waking up to his room and the soothing presence of the head maid as she took time out of her day to fuss over him.

(After that, Kurt had become suspicious and Charles became rather well acquainted with the estate’s laboratory. He’d been too young, too inexperienced, too untrained to do anything other than bit his lip and try to keep from screaming as Kurt subjected him to experiment after experiment.)

But he wasn’t a kid anymore. He was a grown man, he had far more control over his abilities than he did when Kurt got a hold of him, and maxing out his telepathy didn’t mean the same thing it did when he was younger. If he maxed out a full capacity, then he’d likely drive himself into a coma. But drugged, with a considerable percentage of his telepathy either muddled or locked away, Charles could take certain liberties. He could push and manage to get away without much beyond a terrible headache. 

There was a rush of oxygen and his body instinctively took a deep breath. The oxygen was needed, a sort of biological reboot. Whatever he’d been drugged with was still slugging its way through his system, but it was weaker than it had been when he’d initially woken up.  Between the increased oxygen and Charles's own mental resilience, it wouldn't be long before he regained consciousness. 

Oh, but he was going to have a horrific headache when he did.

[Magda Eisenhardt]

Erik used his jacket to cover the glass and then lifted himself up from the floor behind. Magda could not help but to notice how his upper arms tightened, and bunched under the weight of himself. He did not seem injured, as he had enough straight to pull himself up, and do so without any aid from his powers. It left her feeling grateful that she had not waited.

Once he was up, Magda moved closer toward him. "Are you unharmed?" She asked, wanting to push herself into his arms but instead pulling a small pouch from her pocket. In it was his metal shapes. There was so much she wanted to say, or do in this moment and all of them involved touching him and making sure he was well. Glancing down below at Charles, she wondered if his friend was alive. "Is he . . . " She couldn't say the words. If he was dead, Erik's fury would tear this place apart.

When Erik took the pouch from her, her fingers grasped his, holding them for a moment, letting herself feel he was alive. Then she forced her hand to let go of him. "I did not bring your helmet." She had been in too much of a hurry.

[Erik Lehnsherr]

When he was up, Magda approached him, asking if he was unharmed. "I'm well," he told her. This had been perhaps the shortest amount of time he'd spent in a cell. And was grateful for it. Not only for his sake, but for Charles' as well. "You had perfect timing," he added with a bit of a smile. Although it was most likely her being here that had prompted the others to kill them, she had come well before they could have started any experimentation. And well before they administered too many sedatives to Charles that could potentially cause permanent damage to his brain. Once again, he was indebted to Magda. Looking at Charles, he understood what she was asking even if her question remained unfinished. "He is alive," he confirmed. She handed him something and he took it, as their touch lingered before she explained that she did not bring his helmet.

"It is not necessary right now," he told her. While he wore it so that Charles could not stop him, right now it was not Magneto's priority to put it on. It was his priority to get them all out of here. "Thank you, Magda," he told her. For the pouch. For the bullets. For coming here. For everything. He knew when he owed another gratitude and this was one such instance. Looking away from her, he then directed his gaze at Charles. He held out his hand, moving all the bullets toward him to hover around in his palm, while moving it, sliding the the shield that he had created under Charles, carefully so that he did not jostle him too much. With Charles now on it, Magneto lifted it up into the air and moved it out of the cell and next to them. "Have you seen his chair?" Magneto asked. For it would be easier to move him in that, rather than this makeshift floating stretcher.

[x]

Regaining consciousness from overusing his telepathy was never something particularly quick or instantaneous. This time, the first thing that came back was his sense of placement. He was lying down, but he was also moving. It was a smooth sort of movement, nothing he could place for a car or any other vehicle.

The second thing that came to him was the constant throbbing in his head. He let out a small whimper in response, but he hadn’t quite regain enough control over himself to bring his hands up to cradle his head. Oh, he was going to need so much aspirin once all was said and done.

After the pain reared its ugly head, he could make out voices. One was male, the other...female, and it felt like he should be able to place it. One had to be Erik. Erik had been with him in the cell, hadn’t he? Or had Charles finally lost it?

He couldn’t have lost it, because it felt like he was on a metal disk. A metal disk that was moving rather smoothly. So, unless there was another metalokinetic running around...

Erik...?

He winced; bad move. The sedative was still in his system, and he’d pushed his luck enough already with that stunt with the guard. Oh, but it wasn’t like it was going to get any easier in the near future.

For the moment, the best he could do was focus on breathing and not slipping back into unconsciousness.