"Shall we take the van up to the buzzards' nest?" I suggested.
"The what?" Annisa exclaimed.
"It's the car park furthest up the hill," I explained, "My dad and I normally go from the Osprey up to the Buzzards' Nest and then up to Betty Blue but that would be pretty pointless considering the rather pressing time limit on our current mission."
Some people nodded, others just stared into the forest through the windows of the van.
"Be careful of all those cyclists, Michael," Lucìa warned anxiously, "Is that one doing a wheelie with the back wheel?"
I tilted my head to the side and screwed my eyes up, fairly certain that was one of my friends from school on the bike. I snapped back to inside the van and forced my brain to work through a strategy for the fastest route up to the Stane.
"How is everyone at cycling?" Benedict murmured.
There were a few 'not bad's and some 'could be worse's but no 'terrible and likely to die's so that looked to be a good sign. The bikes - including one we'd borrowed for Pearl - were strapped tightly to various faces of the van. If you peered out the window at the right angle, you could see a seven gear cog threatening to decapitate you.
A few zip lines flew high over our heads, where a Go Ape had been built above the Good Game section of the Blue Route. I sighed. I was not looking forward to having my memories of this place spoiled.
"I wish I was Professor X." James sighed. "I could peer into his mind and tell him that everything was okay. I could tell him that he doesn't have to do this - that books belong to their readers, like John says."
"Professor X couldn't get through to Magneto," Michael countered, "How's he going to get through to Paul?"
"He's nowhere near as messed up as Magneto," James mumbled, "He's just a kid. Charles would know what to do."
Michael extended a hand into the space in the centre of the van. It tensed and his face began to redden.
"What are you doing?" James groaned.
"I'm trying to tear some metal out of the van and turn it into a gun. For Paul." Michael shrugged. Something was different about his voice but I don't think anyone was sure quite what.
"Violence is not the answer here!" James cried.
"Is that so?" The corners of Michael's lips quirked up and his eyes glimmered as he searched James' distraught gaze. "I seem to remember hearing those words before. A mansion in Westchester. A school perhaps. A former home. And I seem to remember that ten years later the species you wanted only peace with were ready to tear our entire race to pieces!"
"Erik!" James barked, "He is just a kid. He is a poor messed up kid. He's just like you were before Shaw got hold of you. What would you have given for someone on your side back then?"
Michael didn't reply. He leaned back in on the bench and crossed his ankles. He winked at Jan, who was directly opposite him, then turned back to James. "Professor?" he prompted.
James grinned. "Okay then, X-Men, this is what we'll do. I need to be alone with Paul. I don't know what I'll do but there has to be something I can say to him. So, to get him alone, I'll need the rest of you to distract his army. You probably know some of them - that is, the army probably consists mostly of my, er, fan club. How many do you number, Jan?"
"Over two thousand," Jan replied succinctly.
"Good Lord!" James muttered, "I thought you were going to say a couple of hundred!"
"Don't underestimate yourself," Hanien murmured.
James nodded and gulped. "They'll all hate me. As much as you all ... 'love' ... me now. They all hate me that much."
The air of anticipation in the van deflated and we glanced at each other. We couldn't even picture hating James. Loving him was a part of our identities. He defined our ideals and our hopes and what we thought were the best parts of the world. He was like a favourite television show to me. As much as I have based my teenage years off 'Doctor Who', I've had my perception of James to guide me through studying for my Highers. He got me through Fifth Year.
I stared unflinchingly into his eyes. I remembered at McBusted, Tom Fletcher had caught me with eye contact and I'd glanced away. The guy shaped my entire music taste. He was so influential to me that I was infinitely intimidated. The feeling when I looked at James was at least five times more potent. I levelled my gaze and locked onto his eyes. I would never let him down. I would never hate him.
"They're strong James. They can withstand him," Eliphia assured him.
"I believe in you all," James replied, "Honest. I mean, you're in love with me; you must all be pretty smart. I just ... Something really weird has happened to Paul. This isn't like him at all. There's something bigger going on, something that I don't think we can withstand."
"The what?" Annisa exclaimed.
"It's the car park furthest up the hill," I explained, "My dad and I normally go from the Osprey up to the Buzzards' Nest and then up to Betty Blue but that would be pretty pointless considering the rather pressing time limit on our current mission."
Some people nodded, others just stared into the forest through the windows of the van.
"Be careful of all those cyclists, Michael," Lucìa warned anxiously, "Is that one doing a wheelie with the back wheel?"
I tilted my head to the side and screwed my eyes up, fairly certain that was one of my friends from school on the bike. I snapped back to inside the van and forced my brain to work through a strategy for the fastest route up to the Stane.
"How is everyone at cycling?" Benedict murmured.
There were a few 'not bad's and some 'could be worse's but no 'terrible and likely to die's so that looked to be a good sign. The bikes - including one we'd borrowed for Pearl - were strapped tightly to various faces of the van. If you peered out the window at the right angle, you could see a seven gear cog threatening to decapitate you.
A few zip lines flew high over our heads, where a Go Ape had been built above the Good Game section of the Blue Route. I sighed. I was not looking forward to having my memories of this place spoiled.
"I wish I was Professor X." James sighed. "I could peer into his mind and tell him that everything was okay. I could tell him that he doesn't have to do this - that books belong to their readers, like John says."
"Professor X couldn't get through to Magneto," Michael countered, "How's he going to get through to Paul?"
"He's nowhere near as messed up as Magneto," James mumbled, "He's just a kid. Charles would know what to do."
Michael extended a hand into the space in the centre of the van. It tensed and his face began to redden.
"What are you doing?" James groaned.
"I'm trying to tear some metal out of the van and turn it into a gun. For Paul." Michael shrugged. Something was different about his voice but I don't think anyone was sure quite what.
"Violence is not the answer here!" James cried.
"Is that so?" The corners of Michael's lips quirked up and his eyes glimmered as he searched James' distraught gaze. "I seem to remember hearing those words before. A mansion in Westchester. A school perhaps. A former home. And I seem to remember that ten years later the species you wanted only peace with were ready to tear our entire race to pieces!"
"Erik!" James barked, "He is just a kid. He is a poor messed up kid. He's just like you were before Shaw got hold of you. What would you have given for someone on your side back then?"
Michael didn't reply. He leaned back in on the bench and crossed his ankles. He winked at Jan, who was directly opposite him, then turned back to James. "Professor?" he prompted.
James grinned. "Okay then, X-Men, this is what we'll do. I need to be alone with Paul. I don't know what I'll do but there has to be something I can say to him. So, to get him alone, I'll need the rest of you to distract his army. You probably know some of them - that is, the army probably consists mostly of my, er, fan club. How many do you number, Jan?"
"Over two thousand," Jan replied succinctly.
"Good Lord!" James muttered, "I thought you were going to say a couple of hundred!"
"Don't underestimate yourself," Hanien murmured.
James nodded and gulped. "They'll all hate me. As much as you all ... 'love' ... me now. They all hate me that much."
The air of anticipation in the van deflated and we glanced at each other. We couldn't even picture hating James. Loving him was a part of our identities. He defined our ideals and our hopes and what we thought were the best parts of the world. He was like a favourite television show to me. As much as I have based my teenage years off 'Doctor Who', I've had my perception of James to guide me through studying for my Highers. He got me through Fifth Year.
I stared unflinchingly into his eyes. I remembered at McBusted, Tom Fletcher had caught me with eye contact and I'd glanced away. The guy shaped my entire music taste. He was so influential to me that I was infinitely intimidated. The feeling when I looked at James was at least five times more potent. I levelled my gaze and locked onto his eyes. I would never let him down. I would never hate him.
"They're strong James. They can withstand him," Eliphia assured him.
"I believe in you all," James replied, "Honest. I mean, you're in love with me; you must all be pretty smart. I just ... Something really weird has happened to Paul. This isn't like him at all. There's something bigger going on, something that I don't think we can withstand."
"Do not lose hope, Charles," Michael murmured.
James turned to face him, his eyes beginning to brim with tears. We could see the effort he was putting into barring their way.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, "Maybe if I'd paid Paul more attention..."
Michael shook his head. "No. Do not blame yourself. You didn't see Paul when you weren't looking. He wasn't as calm and kind as you believed."
"What do you mean?" James turned to face him. "Well, you know how his major fandom was the book series 'Divergent'? Basically that was just an excuse for combat training in Dauntless. He was preparing for something. None of us wanted to say anything. We were all scared that we'd set him off. He was so different around you. We didn't want to do anything to jeopardise that. I'm so sorry, James."
James said nothing. He raised his hands in front of his face and let his head sink into his chest. The hope he'd found since Michael had provoked him into being Professor X seemed to flush out of him and he slumped into the bench. He murmured something that sounded vaguely blasphemous then was silent. Just as Michael was reaching over to comfort him, the van juddered to a stop. Benedict, who had switched places with Michael at the campsite, twisted round to talk to us.
"We're here," Benedict murmured.
"What do you mean?" James turned to face him. "Well, you know how his major fandom was the book series 'Divergent'? Basically that was just an excuse for combat training in Dauntless. He was preparing for something. None of us wanted to say anything. We were all scared that we'd set him off. He was so different around you. We didn't want to do anything to jeopardise that. I'm so sorry, James."
James said nothing. He raised his hands in front of his face and let his head sink into his chest. The hope he'd found since Michael had provoked him into being Professor X seemed to flush out of him and he slumped into the bench. He murmured something that sounded vaguely blasphemous then was silent. Just as Michael was reaching over to comfort him, the van juddered to a stop. Benedict, who had switched places with Michael at the campsite, twisted round to talk to us.
"We're here," Benedict murmured.
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