seekevolution | The Amulet

Even if he wasn't gifted in any sense, Mohinder's pain hangs in the air for all to see. "Did Doctor Banner inform you of my ability as a mutant?" There is no disgust with that word, spoken as if the title of a job. He does not speak of these abilities publicly for obvious reasons, but in this case it will be exposed.

He also would do nothing without Mohinder being armed with the knowledge ahead of time. Things has changed from when he was a younger and more... Morally skewed man.

"He said..." What had he said..? "He said you'd be able to understand. Perhaps help. I'm sure he's explained to what I've managed to do to myself." Mohinder's laughter is completely self depreciating. It's not entirely his fault, his culture demands demureness and beyond that, he's scared.

Getting to pleasantries just makes him feel even more frightened.

Though he'd like to offer Charles a drink, he simply gets down to business. "I hope you don't have to touch me to use your ability. I can't allow that."

"Touch would make it easier, and it may be required, but not at first. I am a telepath, capable of touching minds other than my own. If what I have been told are true, you are one as well, with a more limited focus of your ability." Bruce why had you not spoken of this to Professor Suresh?

However if Suresh is indeed a threat, he will do what is necessary to help, even if possibly against his word.

Mohinder smiles softly. "I might have guessed," he responds. "I ought to have figured that out. I... Well, I use to live with someone like you." That hadn't turned out well. Or, it had turned out too well. Either way, Mohinder's thoughts flutter between darkness and relief. He shifts to the edge of the sofa, hands on his knees, and gazes into older eyes that still seem so young.

"I wasn't born like this, but the amulet-- There's no question that it changed my DNA."

"It is a rare gift, even among mutants. I have known only a small handful across the globe." At least there is no panic without the younger man. Charles could work with this. "Will you allow me to touch your mind? I will only go as far as is necessary to study this newborn talent and see how to help you train it."

"Train-- I'd rather it be gone," Mohinder says in all true honesty. "No offense meant--" He's not sure why this had chosen him. He's not sure why he's stuck with it now. He doesn't think himself, at all, even slightly, cut out for things like this. "I'd been...happy researching. I'm not sure training is even possible. You see... The things I even think about wanting, or not wanting, force others to do them. Or not do them. It's a curse."

One that's left him upset, angry-- Horribly angry at himself, really, because let's face it, the first good thing that's happened to him since arriving in America had been coerced.

"Removing such a gift may not be possible, not how it has effected you. Just because you have an ability does not mean you must use it. You have hands, yet you do not use them to murder. It is the same with this, but much more difficult. You must learn that control and not allow it to harm others by your own will." Charles' voice remains calm, his eyes not looking away from Mohinder.

He offers out his hand. "I must see how this occurs to help you."

"And if--"

If it goes sour, where will that leave him? He does his best to clear his mind, to have simple lullabies running through his head as he slowly reaches out to take Charles by the hand. His fingers curl around the other's and before he even realizes it, he's clinging, and hoping loudly, above the lullaby, that he won't hurt anyone again.

That he can make it up to Bruce.

That he won't be forever alone.

I promise you, Mohinder, that I will make sure you are safe to be around others. Charles' voice rings calmly in Mohinder's mind, spreading calmness gently throughout. His hand holds tight to the other, allowing him that psychical contact.

He could feel Mohinder's mind pressing hard to his own, and he could see how it could take over that of another. Perhaps it is establishing a psychic link and the limited focus of his ability translates it into command. I would like you to command something of me, something small. You have not established a way into my mind; my shields are holding well. Keep calm.

Calm is difficult, but there are breathing techniques to follow, ones he knows, even if he's never practiced yoga or, indeed, other forms of meditation. Mohinder closes his eyes however, feeling Charles there, but not there. It's as if they're having tea in a garden and Charles sits across a small white table from him. He can reach across the barrier but there's no need to do so.

And he swallows after that, fingers curling around his thumb.

A sonnet...do you know any? Recite one for me...? Innocuous. Hopefully.

Charles would not go deeper than that 'distance' he 'sits' away in Mohinder's mind, not unless needed. He can feel the caution and better, there is no desire to harm, quite the opposite. There is restraint; this can be used.

As soon as the command, even in a question form, is uttered, Charles feels it. Mohinder's mind sweeps out over his and puts pressure there, but it is subtle, almost beautifully so. Shields will be very important for this, on both ends.

While I know many, I do prefer the classic of Shakespeare, I feel no need to recite one.

You feel some need, Mohinder corrects and then, outwardly, puts a hand over his suddenly gaping mouth. He's pushed harder without meaning to. It's starting to get away from him, but at least he makes the careful recovery from it. "I'm--" I apologize. That was rude. I simply felt--

Mohinder's grip on Xavier's hand tightens immediately and he leans forward, letting his eyes shut.

Whatever you're doing to stop it...can you teach that to the whole world?

You simply felt what? I need you to express what it is you felt, why you felt compelled to say that. Was it Mohinder feeling the need to want that command to be successful, or feeling out to another mind and thinking Charles had wanted to say a sonnet? There is the faint, old urge to press into the other's mind and find out for himself, but he is an old hand at ignoring those urges, unlike his youth.

There will be no need. I will teach you how to control that urge and the ability itself. And Charles wraps his mind around Mohinder's, eyes partly closing. He needs to give no worded command, only give the urge towards Mohinder to say a sonnet himself.

It is something he knows how to control, now, but here is controlled proof that he has a very similar gift indeed.

"I just felt it, moving against you. Something moving. Me, I suppose, but-" While Mohinder launches into what will undoubtedly be some sort of long winded speech -- of which he does truly love to give -- words change to lyrics.

There's only one sonnet he knows with any surety and his voice certainly enhances any words once written.

In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes,
For they in thee a thousand errors note;
But ’tis my heart that loves what they despise,
Who in despite of view is pleased to dote.
Nor are mine ears with thy tongue’s tune delighted,
Nor tender feeling to base touches prone,
Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited
To any sensual feast with thee alone.

"Sonnet 141," Charles says with the tone of someone who greatly appreciates such a piece, with the voice of someone who knows of someone to whom that piece speaks dearly. "That is what I learned to control many years ago, when I realized that I could command another to do as I wished. Yet I sense you have a good heart in you, one that can tame the beast and have it trot at your command, rather than be the dangerous stallion it is now."

His eyes narrow, just faintly. If Mohinder cannot, he will have to deal with that as well, but that he keeps entirely to himself. "If you wish to begin, we can."

"How do we even start?" Is Charles forever tainted with his touch? Carefully, Mohinder pulls back, not quite knowing just what else of Mohinder's heart that the other has seen. It's impossible just keep thoughts to words. There are images, emotions -- There are things best left uncovered that simply can not be.

He's eager, however, to start on whatever road to recovery they can find. To be able to put up the walls Charles had, to keep himself in, he might have a normal...ish...life once more.

"We will start with the basics. You are capable of removing the connection you to have. The reason that distance, from what I have been told, works is because your mind lacks the focus and power to connect from that distance."

Charles holds up his hand. "I want you to image that between our hands is a fixed piece of rope two feet long, with a loop on each end. A loop is fixed over my finger and one over yours. Effectively, we are tied together. That is what you carry with those you are able to affect. Your mind has tied a piece of rope to it and now you are linked. Do you follow?"

Strange to thing of it that way, to be the one to forge the connection and therefore break it. He's never actually tried to break it, just to command others not to listen to him. He stares at Xavier as if he's just said the most brilliant thing a person could ever hope to say.

"I-- Yes." Of course, this sort of thing takes practice but after a lot of visualization, after a lot of sweat-inducing stress and even a few tears (which has to look strange on camera as he and Xavier hadn't been speaking for almost two hours), Mohinder manages to do it.

The string is gone. The connection is broken.

He kind of wants to throw up.

You did well, very well. There is warmth and honest praise in Charles' voice, and a calmness again, attempting to soothe the sickness that comes from straining a new 'muscle', so to speak, along with the painful knowledge. There is surprising strength in you. It will be difficult at first, as you must break that connection with each person you come into contact with, but it will get easier, I promise.

He draws back, speaking aloud and easily. "I believe that is all for today, as you will need to rest. Tomorrow, I will teach you how to make it so you will not form another connection."

Mohinder doesn't just go to bed, he falls into it, the promise of learning to keep connections from happening a good comfort for the evening. Logan stands when the door opens and he glances down at Xavier with a frown and gets the door for him shut when the professor glides through it.

"Went well I take it?" He hooks his thumb into his jacket and walks towards the elevator. "How bad is he?"

Logan's not concerned. He's just making conversation. And hoping Charles will want to chill with Bruce a little bit so he can find and consume Stark's good scotch.

"As well as I could have hoped. It could have been difficult, if he had any notion of wanting to control others, but he wanted no part of it as I had hoped. He takes well to the instruction, and Logan, please do not instigate our missing host by bothering his alcohol. ...You did so last time and I received a significant bill."

He hardly needs telepathy to guess what his friend wishes to do. "I will speak to Doctor Banner before retiring." As the elevator comes down and opens, he looks up at Logan with a pointed look before he goes within.

Damn it. Oh well. Maybe just a small taste then... That'd hurt no one.

After filling Bruce and Hank in on the progress they've made, giving them both some hope that Mohinder may well be able to re-enter society with some time and effort, Xavier does indeed turn in. By then, several hours have passed and Mohinder is once again stirring.

He gives Bruce a call on his cell, thumb running over the back of the casing as he lays in bed. He's still tired, worn out, but he'd like to check in just the same.

"Mohinder?" A little surprised to get the call at all. Bruce is sitting at the desk in 'his' room in the Tower, several pages spread out before him and his laptop, working on his next paper. "I would have thought you would be asleep for the rest of the night."

Bruce squints a bit at the time on the laptop, then runs a hand over his face when he realizes the time. Later- more like earlier- than he thought. "How do you feel?"

"Am I keeping you awake? It's late, I know, I'm sorry. I just wanted to speak with someone that might understand and--" He chuckles to himself, under his breath. "There's so little I could ever do to repay you, Bruce. Everything you've done for me has-- You've been my saviour. I don't say that lightly and I don't want you to interrupt either. I feel honoured that you've not only remained my friend through all of this, but also have not given up on me either."

It's a lot to say but Mohinder's use to giving long winded speeches and everything that comes from his mouth right now is utterly important. He needs Bruce to know how he feels.

The man had asked after all.

Bruce has gotten used to the way Mohinder tends to run at the mouth a little; it's something he finds surprisingly endearing. It means he can listen and keep silent, allowing his friend to go on. Both Mohinder and Tony do that, now that he thinks about it. Either way, he'd rather be the ears than the mouth.

When he believes Mohinder to be done, he actually asks if he might speak before he does. "First, you didn't wake me. I had some work to finish. Second, I wasn't about to give up on my friend that easily, and I don't plan to now. You would do the same if I needed your help. You owe me nothing, other than when this is over, we find somewhere quiet and have a good dinner."

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Oh Momo <3