CHAPTER ELEVEN...

The next day, I wake up among a dizzying amount of plush pillows and blankets, all bearing down on me like they're trying to suffocate the life out of my body. I sit up, wiping sleep from my eyes and look around to where I'll be living for the next few weeks (or year, I'm not really sure).

My bedroom reminds me of the ones I read about in books. It feels like a fairy tale, a living, breathing dream that presents itself to me in the form of a four poster bed, ornate curtains, and several couches thrown about on the carpet. The room must be as big as a small house, and two doors face me as I lean back against the cloth backboard. Sunlight peeks through the curtains on either side, they bathe their warm light over my night-gowned body.

Everything seems so surreal. Only two days ago, Azazel held me close as Shaw terrorized the CIA facility, almost killing Darwin, and taking Angel with him in the process. It was only two days ago that I was almost a prisoner again, a pawn in Sebastian Shaw's cruel and unjust game.

I throw off the covers and place my feet on the carpet. The cotton flattens beneath my toes, soft as the coat of a lamb. I walk over to the curtains --my hair falling over my face-- and open up the windows. Morning light cascades across the green lawn. Fresh dew glistens like a thousand crystals on the trees and grass. The lake is calm, with only a few small ripples breaking the smooth surface, most likely a fish or tadpole.

Everything is silent and peaceful. Nothing feels out of place. This is life itself, or what it's supposed to be. Perfectly balanced and serene, nothing to disturb it, mother nature simply letting it grow.

But there are many things that disturb it. Many things that disrupt the peace which has been so carefully constructed over these centuries. I turn away from the window and go over to the wardrobe, where I pull out a new pair of dark joggers and a sleeveless turtleneck. I go to the bathroom and change. I carefully brush out my tangled birds nest of hair. My chestnut locks have grown out over these past few weeks, and they now flow down past my shoulders. I try to tie the curls into a neat braid. Half the hair falls out when I let it go, and the two braids stick out of my head like little girl's pigtails.

I sigh and pull them out, letting my mess of curls fall back onto my shoulders. Once I've finished getting ready, I walk over to the bedroom door and open it a bit, peering out into the empty hallway. My room is on the third floor, a little ways away from the wide staircase leading down to the main foyer. To my right is Raven's bedroom, and when I look around the corner a bit more, I can see that her room is still dark. The crack beneath her door is as dark as night.

I try to be as quiet as possible as I step out into the corridor, leaving my door open behind me. On the tile, my shadow dances, and golden light from my open windows cast a glowing aura around my form. I smile. It reminds me of the figures I see when I use my abilities. Only there is never light to cast out the dark, only darkness, complete and utter darkness.

I shake my head, ridding myself of the thoughts. I can't afford to think like I used to. I can't be the frightened little girl anymore. I need to get a hold of myself. Down the stairs, murmurs of voices waft up like perfume carrying on the wind.

I tuck my hair behind my ears and set off down the hall, passing a couple more closed doors. I don't know if they're someone's bedrooms or if they're simply another chamber like the magnificent library I found yesterday. I don't think I would want to walk in one someone changing, so I push my curiousity aside and head down the staircase. In the main foyer, the voices are slightly louder, and a man laughs a little ways away from me.

Since I was barely part of the tour yesterday, I don't know my way around this place like Raven or the others, so as I walk, I try to make mental notes of the layout. As soon as I turn a corner I thought would lead back and am faced with a completely different hallway, my mind screams at me to stop. I sigh and decide instead to simply follow the voices.

Someone else laughs, and I walk down the right hall from where I stand, turning left, then another left, looking into each and every open door. All I find are old studies and several lounges. Finally, after what feels like ages, I come upon an open door with sunlight pouring out like water from an overturned glass.

When I peer inside, I'm met with the sight of what appears to be the kitchen. A long, rough wooden table sits in the center. Black and white tiles create a checkerboard on the floor, and cooking utensils hang above stoves and fridges. Everything is clean as can be, there is nothing to show it's years of disuse. Charles must have had a cleaner come in and freshen it up.

The thought makes me want to laugh. I can't believe I've gone from living in a room with little to no space to a grand manor that's been cleaned for my benefit.

Sitting at the table are Charles, Hank, Sean, and Erik, and they seem to be playing some sort of card game. Sean places an ace of spades down, and the entire group groans, handing over a stack of chips I notice in front of each of them.

Charles sighs and ends up giving Sean all of his chips, leaving him empty-handed. It seems that Charles is not the sort of person to cheat, as he could easily just read everyone's minds to know what card they have.

Charles is also, apparently, very bad at poker.

I clear my throat, and the four men look up. When Sean meets my eyes, his face lights up like a flashing sign, and I grin slightly, one eyebrow raising at the sight of him. Why is it that every time we see each other, butterflies decide to burst forth in my stomach? Why does the room suddenly feel like it's closing in on me?

I clench and unclench my fists, then wrap both arms around my waist. I walk over to the group and stand next to Erik, who looks up at me, expectant.

"What are you playing?" I ask, even if I already know the game like the back of my hand. When Shaw would deny me books, I would play poker with Azazel or by myself. I had lots of spare time to master the ins and outs of many different card games.

"Texas holdem." Erik replies, then leans past me to drag a chair over beside him. "Know how to play?" his words are teasing, as if he's daring me to gush over my skill. I hold back my pride and wear a mask of indifference, playing along with the game.

"Sure." I say, then sit down, crossing one leg over the other. Charles and Hank share a look that I can't quite pick up on, then turn back to the group.

"I'm out." Charles says, running a hand over his face in exasperation. He throws his cards across the table.

"Me too." Hank says, doing the same. I smile, adrenaline running through my veins.

"Scared?" I ask, my voice light, as if I'm floating on a cloud of feathers.

"Yes." Hank and Charles reply in unison.

Charles beams. "Terrified." I let out a laugh, then pull my chair forward more, grabbing the deck of cards. I look across the table to Sean as I begin to shuffle them. We stare at each other, my chestnut eyes meeting his hazel ones. I raise an eyebrow. My look challenges him to say yes, and deep down, I want him to.

After a moment, Sean lets out a peeved sigh, then grabs the poker chips and joins the circle now forming. It's only Erik, Sean, and I, but I count my blessings, the less people, the better chance of winning.

I hand the shuffled deck to Charles. "Will you be host?" Charles nods, I take a deep breath, and the game begins.

I crush Sean and Erik. Every round, I'm able to pull out a win, even if it's extremely close. After about 7 rounds (all won by me), as I'm shuffling the deck, Erik pulls back and turns to me.

"I can't." he says. "You've ruined my reputation."

I smile. "I bet you'd beat me at chess." I say. I remember seeing him and Charles playing a round last night in the study before I went up to bed. The house was dark, and Raven and Hank were already asleep. I walked past, after getting lost for the second time that day, and saw the two playing the tactical mind game, sitting across from each other, deep in concentration.

Erik chuckles. "Perhaps." He gets up from his spot, moving over to the large vinyl fridge. I watch as the group lounge around the table, smiling, and I can't help but have an ache in my chest spread.

Everything is so peaceful now, so orderly and calm, but I know it's only a matter of time before the chaos creeps in, before Shaw's plans ruin everything. I lean back, my face falling. Now my fingers itch to start training, to start building up my strength. I want to use my powers again, I want to show everyone that I can fight.

A knock comes from the entrance to the kitchen, and I turn to see Raven, her silken blonde hair as luscious as ever falling gracefully over her matching shirt and sweatpants. I notice both Hank and Erik go straighter, and I bite back my smile. Their drama is nothing for me to get into. I'm here, I'm free again, and that's all that matters.

At that moment, I sense a pair of eyes on me, and when I look up, my creamy chocolate eyes meet Sean's once again. I hold his gaze, pink creeping along my neck and cheeks, then quickly turn away. I pull my hair over my shoulder to hide the fact that my face is beet red. The butterflies dance around my stomach once more, and I clear my throat, spinning back to Raven.

What on earth is wrong with me?

I keep my eyes trained on the older girl as she pulls up a chair next to me, completely unaware of the effect she has on the men around her. Charles walks over and plants a kiss on her cheek, then faces the group, his expression going grave.

"We should start training as soon as possible." he says, his voice steady, but I can detect a hint of nervousness in the way his eyes flicker from one person to the next.

"How are we going to do that, anyway?" Sean asks.

Charles places a hand on his temple, and I can't help but realize he's absolutely exhausted. He must have stayed up all night figuring out what we were to be doing for training, as he's kind of become the self proclaimed leader of the group. He must have had to make all the plans in bringing us here, he must be trying to talk with Moira and get information from the CIA, he must be planning out each and every one of our sessions, specially designed for our abilities and our powers alone.

Guilt gnaws at my sides, and since it feels extra powerful, I must not be the only one who is ashamed.

"We could train on our own, Charles." I pipe up. "If you're too busy..." Charles startles, like I've just suggested he ram his head into the wall.

"No, no, of course not!" he exclaims, then puts on a sad smile. "I was thinking we could start with testing out each of our mutations, then go into strength and then strategy." Raven nods excitedly.

"Sounds like a plan." she says. "Though I don't know what you want me to do, Charles, I already know the extent of my power." The way she says those words, like she's dropping a heavy rock into a coursing river, placing an immovable object in the way of something beautiful, it breaks my heart.

Raven is always so upbeat, so positive. A ray of sunshine in a bleak and tired world. Now she sits here, hunched, twiddling her thumbs together like an unsure child. I never stopped to think that maybe Raven didn't like her ability, as I hated mine. I curse myself for being so careless. It reminds me of Sean's confession, of how speaking normally is harder for him now because of his mutation. I look down into my lap, too frightened to meet Raven's eyes.

Charles says. "Well, you can go right on to strength if you like." Raven nods and turns back to the group. Charles seems to take that as a closing sign, and he claps his hands together, as if he's trying to find the energy within himself to continue on.

And there it is. The calm before the storm. Charles looks out towards us, towards me, and I know training has officially begun.

Charles points to Sean. "Shall we start with you?" Sean leans back in his chair, practically tipping it over.

"You sure?" he asks, and I swear his eyes flick over to where I sit. I look away. I must have just imagined it.

Charles smiles, placing his hands in his pockets. "Absolutely."

Sean nods and gets up, shaking his head like a head. "Then let's go."

We all file out of the room, and Hank and Charles go off into what I assume is a laboratory, and I see Hank picking up what looks like a shirt with wings. I turn around, a laugh threatening to burst. It looks ridiculous.

As if I summoned him to me, Sean appears by my elbow, hands in his pocket, his expression laid back, and that ever mysterious look in his eyes draws me closer. I don't even realize I've stepped until our shoulders practically touch, and Sean's shifts next to me, a grin spreading across his face.

I look at him, raising an eyebrow. "What?" I ask, half a laugh, half a genuine question.

"I just don't wanna embarrass myself in front of everyone." He sounds like he wants to say more, but doesn't, and I frown. What could possibly have gotten him so tongue tied? A million possibilities run through my head, but not one of them answers my question. Years spent with hours of nothing to do has given me an overactive imagination, and I push the scenarios down, each one as unbelievable as the next.

I turn to him. "You don't have anything to be afraid of." Then I remember his throat, and the way it hurts him. "Unless you do."

Sean peers into my eyes. "My throat only hurts when I talk for long periods of time. Not when I use my abilities."

I make an O shape with my mouth. "Then you don't have anything to worry about." I touch his forearm, meaning for it to be a reassuring gesture, but the moment my skin connects with the fabric of my jacket, he pulls away, walking towards the laboratory, towards Hank and Charles.

"I'll see you out there." he says, then goes into the room. I have half a mind to go after him, but stop myself. Instead, I'm left standing in the atrium, my hands going instinctively to wrap around my stomach. I turn slowly in a circle, and it is only then when I see the figure walking towards me.

Erik stands in the entrance to another lounge, the sofas covered up by white sheets inside. He has his hands in his pockets, and a strange smile plays on his lips.

I frown at him. "How long have you been standing there?" I ask, anger lacing my words. Erik walks towards me.

"Not long." he replies, and that is when I feel it, an emotion I haven't been able to detect in years. Amusement. It drives the edge in his words, flowing over to me in fits and bursts. I've only ever known the dark emotions:Anger, fear, and hate. The ones that knock you down, and don't stick around to watch.

But what could he possibly be amused by that makes this emotion so powerful?

"Why are you laughing?" I ask, even though he isn't, but I can feel it about to burst from his mouth. Erik seems taken aback, pulling his hands out of his pockets, then rubbing the back of his neck. I smirk at how caught off guard he is. Erik has always been calm and collected, but I've noticed him loosen up more ove the past couple of days.

He seems more relaxed, more at ease with himself. I think it's because he's around people like him. People who know what it's like. I'm probably the person who knows the most. I've been with Shaw. I've been at the tail end of his experiments. I'm the one who knows the most about Erik's past. I know how he feels. It's ironic, when you think about it. I'm able to read people's emotions, yet the only person I truly understand is from real life experience.

I turn to Erik, who now leans against the banister, watching me.

"What?" I ask. He just smiles and shakes his head, keeping whatever has him laughing to himself. I cross my arms.

"I could just look into your mind, you know." I say, a smirk plain on my face. Erik stands up straighter.

"But you can't read my thoughts." he replies.

"I wouldn't need to, your emotions are strong enough as it is."

Erik smiles, and after a moment of silence says. "How long have you and Sean..." he leaves the rest of the sentence unfinished, and I wait patiently for him to continue. I wait and wait, but Erik just stares at me like I'm supposed to respond.

"What?" I ask again, raising an eyebrow. The way Erik is looking at me, like I'm a little toddler with no sense of the world puts me on edge. Should I know what he is talking about? I scourge around for an answer that could answer his question. What has been going on with me and Sean, I'm just at a loss as Erik seems to be. I cross my arms, my face scrunching up in deep thought.

I like Sean, that much is clear. He's kind and compassionate, and I like the way he always seems to be planning something; something mysterious and full of mischief. I think back to the day of the facility, when he was the first to greet me, shaking my hand and wearing that amazingly lopsided grin on his face. He was the first to ask if I was ok when Shaw caught me again. He was the one who ran to me, pulling me into his arms as Darwin disintegrated right in front of us.

The more and more I think about it, the more I understand what Erik is asking, and the thought makes me gasp. I whirl on Erik, pointing a finger at him, and Erik takes a step back, but his smile grows wider.

"What?!" I practically yell. "No, of course not! Why would you think that?!"

Erik replies. "I was just wondering."

"Well stop, because it's not happening." I raise my hands in frustration. "Nothing's happening!"

"Ok, ok!" Erik says. "Calm down, Leena!" He rushes over to me and places his hands on my shoulders, looking into my eyes like my father used to when I would get into a tantrum. The memory breaks a piece of my heart. I look down at my feet.

"There's nothing wrong with it." Erik says. "You know that, don't you?" I nod, though my mind is screaming in protest. Red creeps along my freckles cheeks.

"What's wrong?" Erik asks me, when he notices that I don't respond. I don't look up at him, because my mind has gone down a spiral of thoughts I didn't even know possible. It's like fog has lifted from a corner of my mind, and an onslaught of memories shroud my thoughts.

My father's loving hands touching my cheek affectionately. My mother scooping me up into her arms, wiping a lock of hair from my forehead. Both my parents tucking me in at night, reading me a bedtime story to ease the panic of my powers losing control again.

The thing that brings tears to my eyes is the feeling I got in those moments, those memories, I feel again right now, with Erik and Charles. The thought makes me smile through my tears, because I haven't felt the love of a guardian, much less a parent for so long. And I feel this way around Erik. Erik, who saved me from Shaw. Erik, who promised to stick by my side when I knew nobody at the Facility. Erik, who radiates with care and worry, the emotions strengthening my own.

Without thinking, I wrap my arms around him and hug him close. The rest of the world melts away, and it's only me and the man who rescued me. I hug him, hug my guardian. Hug the figure closest to a father I've ever had. Erik embraces me back, and when I pull away, I see tears in his own eyes.

"I'm glad you're still here." I say, laughing through my words. Erik smiles, showing his perfectly straight, white teeth.

"Me too." he replies.

There's a shout from the courtyard behind us, near the back of the house. We turn and see Moira, who looks like she's been up for hours, waving us over. Erik and I exchange a look, then spin around and start walking towards the auburn haired woman. Erik comes up beside me, and we stride side by side. Erik is so fast I practically run to keep up.

"So," he says. "Is there anything between you and Sean." I turn to him and punch his forearm, glaring into his eyes. Erik moves to the side, putting his hands up in surrender. "Sorry, sorry!"

When we get into the courtyard, I find Charles, Moira, and Sean, now changed into a grey, matching set of clothes. He's rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, and a little farther away, I see a pane of glass set up to stand in a wooden frame. When Erik and I reach them, Moira frowns at Erik.

Erik says. "What?"

"We just needed Leena." Charles says, looking up from his conversation with Sean. Erik's brows knit together.

"What, can't I watch?" he asks.

Charles shakes his head. "We need you getting ready for your training sessions." Erik looks between all three of us, and I shrug when our eyes meet.

"Why does Leena stay then?" Erik asks.

"Because we need her." Charles responds plainly. For a moment, Erik doesn't move, then in one big sweeping motion he turns around and waltzes away from the group, back into the house, where he will no doubt wallow in his room, or something along those lines.

I turn to Charles and Sean. "Why do you need me?" I ask.

Charles puts his hands in his pockets. "Well, seeing as so many mutations rely on emotions to become powerful, I have a feeling we might need your abilities if we are to train." I raise an eyebrow. Why had the thought never occurred to me? Erik told me on the plane that anger fuels his abilities, and I remember Shaw instantly becoming more powerful when he drained me of my powers. I always thought it was because of the dark energy, but doubt creeps into my mind. Was he also using my empathy to feed on his power? Was that why I was always in so much pain after he let go of my hands? It wasn't because he drained me of energy, it was because he needed his emotions heightened in order to carry out his evil deeds.

Pure hatred boils up in my body, running along my bones in white hot flame. I curl my hands into fists and keep my eyes trained on the ground. Emerald grass shoots up in points, like tiny daggers impaled in the worn dirt and mud. The sun beats down, and beads of sweat appear on my neck. When I look back up, Charles, Moira and Sean all stare at me.

I sigh. "Alright." Sean pumps his fists in the air, clearly excited I've agreed. What exactly I've agreed to, I'm still not sure, but I grit my teeth and bear it. If I'm being honest, my mind is itching to use my powers again, just to see if my influence will continue.

Charles claps his hands together and puts his palm on Sean's shoulder. He points toward the pane of glass several feet away from us. "Think you can break that?" I raise an eyebrow. Breaking that glass should be as easy as slicing butter for Sean. I remember the way the window shattered the night we showed off our abilities. It looked so easy for him, so I'm sure he'll be able to do this.

Sean crosses his arms in front of him and looks towards the glass. For a moment he does nothing, then smirks and opens his mouth slightly. Immediately, a high pitched scream erupts from his lips. Even though the sound is loud enough to burst my eardrums, I cannot see a swirl of air like the one I saw last time. The glass simply shatters where it stands, a million broken pieces falling to the ground. They litter the grass like a thousand glittering stars. Broken stars, each one smaller than the next.

Charles, Moira and I laugh excitedly. Sean grins, looking immensely pleased with himself. I've never seen anything break so quickly, nor into fine dust like what I see now. I wonder how many mutants there are in the world, and how many different abilities they possess. Do some mutants share the same ability, or does each one of us have something slightly distinct from the rest? Each of us are unique, with a peculiar gift to match. A gift or a curse, I think, and I guess it depends on who you ask.

Charles turns to Sean. "What you're doing is incredible," he points back to where the glass lies on the ground, the wood of the window still intact. "You're hitting a pitch with soundwaves that have the same resonant frequency as the glass." I smile, not understanding a word Charles is saying but enjoying the session nonetheless. I've never had a teacher before (unless you count when Shaw would enhance my abilities) and it's enlightening to see Charles in such a place. He's a very soft-spoken man, and I don't think I've ever seen him step out of line. But he's a leader, and a leader is what we need right now. I can't wait to begin my own training.

"That's why it shatters." Charles continues. "But this." he points to his neck and throat. "It's like any other muscle in the body. You can control it." Moira stares at Charles with a giddy sort of smile on her face, and I bite back a grin, keeping my eyes focused on Charles' face. Sean gazes at the dark haired man confusedly, as if he's never thought of something like that before.

Charles sighs "Here, let me show you." He glances at me and beckons me over. I move in to stand between Charles and Sean. "Before you can realize how much control you actually have, you need to know the extent of your ability."

I frown. "How?"

Charles smiles. "That's where you come in, Leena." Sean and I share a look. "As I was saying earlier, emotion feeds into all of us. It is what controls us most of the time. When you are sad, you cry, and when you are angry, you become more determined."

I process his words slowly. "So you want me to amplify his emotion?"

Charles nods. "Enough so that he can break the wood." He looks over to the glassless pane. Sean lets out an exasperated breath. For a moment, all I can think about is the last time I'd enhanced someone's emotions. It was one year before my rescue, and Shaw had taken me to a Colonel's house in Miami. There, he had forced me to cause enough agony in the man for him to comply with Shaw's instructions. I'd had to grasp the old man's hand and go deep into the shadows of his mind. The pain was almost too much to bear, but it had gotten the job done, and whatever Shaw wanted took place. He was as giddy as a school child for the next couple of months.

"Do you think you can handle that, Leena?" Charles asks me. I bite my lip, my heart warring with my common sense. A part of me is screaming no. It's telling me this will only end up in chaos once more. The other part pushes farther, convincing me that I'm different now. I have control over the shadows, therefore I should be in control of my emotions. The thought of using my powers doesn't scare me anymore, so I hold my head up high and plant a genuine smile on my face.

"I'm not the one you should be worrying about." I say. Charles lets out a laugh and Sean looks at me incredulously.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

"Well," I say. "Depending on what emotion Charles wants, it could cause you a lot of pain." The words are heavy on my tongue, and I can't look Sean or Charles in the eye. I guess I wasn't as confident as I thought.

Sean doesn't speak for a moment, then reaches out and takes my hand. "It'll be worth it, right Charles?" Charles nods and looks back to me.

"It won't be painful." he says. "I want you to bring out a calm sense of relief."

"Relief?" I clarify.

"Calm." Charles answers. "Make Sean feel like he could do anything if he simply calmed his mind." I nod and grip Sean's hand tighter, closing my eyes, taking a deep breath.

I turn to Sean. "Ready?" He nods and looks me dead in the eyes. I grip his hand tighter, my fingers intertwining with his own.

Then I let the shadows come. They creep along my bones, inching their way towards this boy of many feelings. I let them overtake my mind, icy tendrils of smoke that fog my brain and pierce my soul. Anger, hate, peace and serenity all swirl through my body. A shadow figure appears in my vision, clear as crystal. I reach forward with my mind, pushing past the emotions till the one I want flickers into view.

A rustle of calm washes over me, the emotion twists into shadows. I can hear someone gasp in the corners of my head, but their voice is fuzzy, as if it is a long forgotten memory. I curl the shadows into my fist, letting the emotion burst through me like rays of sunshine erupting through grey clouds. They surge through my hands and into Sean's palm. For a moment, I feel as light as a feather. Not happy but no upset either. I'm simply here. Calm and collected.

But the feeling lasts only moments as an earsplitting noise rouses me from my daze and I'm thrown back into the real world. I stumble forwards, my hands reaching out to brace my fall onto the green grass. Charles helps me back to my feet, and when I look up, his face is glowing with pride. Moira tugs Sean up as well, who seems to have fallen on his knees.

When our eyes meet, he smiles, his grin widening to encompass his entire face. I scrunch my eyebrows, then I see it. Across from us is what remained of the window. The wood is splintered, littering the ground just as the glass did. Nothing remains of the window panes, everything is broken into tiny pieces.

Sean did it. He broke the wood.

"Well done!" Charles says, clapping his hands together excitedly. "You did it."

Sean turns to me as I laugh in disbelief. "Yes, you did." 

AUTHOR'S NOTE...

Oh, Leena, my sweet summer child. She and Sean have my whole heart, I love them so so so much. How did you like the chapter? These ones might be kinda slow, but I can't wait to keep writing them. 

A question for you: What do you guys think of Sean and Leena, do you think they will last in a relationship? 

 The next chapter is pain, so I'm sorry in advance...

love, Mal