a/n: 9/12/12 1:35 a.m. Hello, my darlings. I'm terribly sorry that I've taken so long to update and there's really no excuse for it. It's been awhile since I've really written anything, and that shames me. I encountered this huge wave of writer's block that I couldn't get past, and my self-esteem was the lowest it had ever been, and I'd been stressed out a lot with high school. Usually, I could vent through writing, but it just wasn't happening for me this time. I hope the flavor of this story hasn't gone down, and I'm incredibly thankful for all the people that've been watching and reviewing, and I hope to do a bulk update on all of my stories for you guys! :)

Chapter Four: Flight

Their flight led them into the sewers, into the deepest parts of darkness that Nicholas' money could take them. And yet it seemed like the pursuit of them only escalated over time, and it wasn't just the militiamen after them now. Charles had specifically sensed beings of a higher power than those that had led them into this chase, and he could only guess what that meant.

He managed to stay one step ahead, he could always stay one step ahead, by just stopping to think, but that all seemed so very hard to do now. He couldn't understand why he had decided to run(-killed them all, he should've just killed them) and that had been his mistake. He didn't plan on repeating it.

And then...Nicholas.

He never spoke to him about what happened, and Nicholas knew better than to ask, and Charles...Charles couldn't bear to read him, see what he thought about it all. It wasn't because he cared what the man thought at all, no, it couldn't be, of course not, but the way he figured it, there was just no point in getting worked up about that right now.

On top of all of this, Charles could really use a good fix sometime soon. He'd chosen to cut back on it, to concentrate more on getting them out of their predicament, and there was no way they could really go to any suitable dealer without arousing suspicion again, but he was finding it more difficult to go without day by day.

He'd gotten sloppy.

...

By the time they'd found suffecient shelter(a small, cramped apartment that Charles had had to remove several people from beforehand with a brisk nudging after watching them for days) Charles was exhausted, completely drained and suffering from migraines that left him panting and writhing, his body nearly paralyzed with pain, Nicholas often at pains with what to do with him.

The poor man tried, Charles gave him that.

...

When Charles could think clearly he constantly stressed about why he hadn't just killed the Fingermen. There had been no reason not to really. It would have saved him so much time and effort and all it would've taken was an extra-nudge with his mind.

But, in the crucial moment, when his fists were tightened with rage, his jaw set as the other two militiamen stated at him in horror, he had seen his companinon staring at him.

And the look in his eyes-

Charles let out a heavy scoff.

It didn't bear thinking about.

...

About two weeks into their stay at the cramped apartment, Nicholas came back with a small radio, and Charles didn't have it in him anymore to tear into him about blasting the news all hours of the day. He tried to keep at a low volume, in another room so he wouldn't trouble him, but it was old and wonky, and prone to burst into loud, sudden noise bits and pieces of the outside world screaming at Charles as he soaked in cool water in the bathroom, or where he sat huddled in the dark, trying not to cough up his insides.

"We're speaking to you from one of the last remaining Human outlets, the Brotherhood has taken over most of New York-"

"...scouring the coastline..."

"For too long, my brothers have suffered under the tyranny of the Sapien-"

"We have searched and searched and are close to finding th-"

It was if Erik was speaking directly to him, challenging him to come out and defend all that he once had, or to be by his side.

He had had dreams of the latter once, but all that was in the past now, more dead than his parents, and like he had so often as a child, he wanted nothing more than to bury his head in the sand and pretend it had never happened.

...

They had to move again. Someone had set fire to the house next to them in the wee hours of the morning, and already, as the first rays of light peaked over the horizon and into the window of Charles' room, the scavengers were beginning to swarm and hunt for remains as the family desperately tried to put the fire out and defend themselves. As they were leaving, others in their building were already heading out towards the house in droves, hungry, desperate gleams in their eyes.

It wasn't long after that the shooting began, scavengers, the desperate, and the plain greedy going at war with each other, feeding on each other throughout the neighborhood.

Now that he is forced to face it, without the fog of drugs or sex clouding his vision, he realizes that it still shocks him how quickly and how little it takes for things to fall apart now, how willingly the humans will tear each other apart.

(And, if he is honest with himself, it scares and upsets him more than he would like to admit.)

...

When Charles wakes up, it is to the sound of "Space Oddity" playing weakly on the small radio, and the sense that something has gone horribly, astonshingly wrong.

He gets up with a jolt, covered in sweat, his mind scanning the area for intruders.

Nicholas had convinced him to sleep in the cover of the trees when they'd stumbled upon the park the other night. Charles had protested at first, but they had been traveling on foot for days, sleep a thing long forgotten, food a rare pleasure. Charles had fallen onto the grass as if it were the king-sized four-poster he'd had back in Westchester.

Groggy, cramped, and with an increasing sense of dread, he was regretting that reprieve now. Vaguely, he could hear voices, coming closer and closer, the quick, hurried move of bodies searching for something, and shouts, gleeful almost, and he knew that he needed to move, and yet he couldn't somehow.

It wasn't until his eyes cleared and he saw a hint of blue that he leaped to his feet and turned away.

After giving an almost lazy nudge with his mind as he ran deeper into the park, he hears his sister fall to the ground, temporarily paralyzed.

Even as he runs through the trees, zig-zagging with no direction, he recognizes his movements as sluggish. He barely has time to react as a cloud of what appears to be red-dust appears with a flash before him, and he gives the red demon a blast with his mind, nearly stumbling from the strain in his exhausted state, arms shaking as his eyes dart around desperately for a second, suddenly completely unaware of what to do.

(This isn't like him, this isn't who he is.)

It takes him a moment to realize that he's been scouting for Nicholas for thirty seconds and hasn't found a response. The thought fills him with a strange feeling of dread.

There are too many voices, coming too quickly for him right now, and he can't focus, can't concentrate and now his head hurts and he fucking can't-

Body trembling and stomach feeling as if it's going to burst out of his chest, he turns to run again, only to fall on his back. Startled and confused, Charles attempts to stand, only to be jerked violently forward.

"No." his breath is coming out in panicked gasps now. No, no, not now please. "No, no, no, no, no, NO!" he yanks at the zippers on his jacket sleeves, not believing he could've been so stupid, so foolish, how completely and fucking idiotic he had gotten. He is cursing himself without shame now, and as he is pulled through the trees, face being whipped and scratched by branches, his feet dragging mud tracks against the floor, an all encompassing, nauseating sense of failure permeates throughout his entire body until he is rendered mute with it.

Eyes closed, he feels himself come to an abrupt halt, his feet still not touching the ground.

David Bowie's voice wails at him from the small, tinny radio, and Charles looks down at everything he had tried to run away from.

Here am I floating

round my tin can

Far above the Moon

Planet Earth is blue

And there's nothing I can do...

"It's been too long, Charles." Erik says as the song fades out.

...

a/n: 5/29/13

Alright, so we're at the halfway point with this story now, and things will (hopefully) move a little quicker after this chapter. I should be updating a little more since my second semester of college is almost over, although I'm saving this and other chapter updates for my bulk update that should be coming soon. I hope you all like this, and it wasn't a disappointment after this huge wait. I really and truly apologize for that. Please review and tell me what you think.

Nehan Shinzui