AN: Thank you all for having such interest in this fic! I love hearing all of your feedback and suggestions! Without further ado…

Chapter Four: The Signal

It almost felt as if my heartbeat wasn't my own, just a loud thumping in my ears that could've been someone pounding on the door behind me or the storm from last night harrowing the window panes. But I could feel the pulse in my neck throbbing as if someone had been strangling me. It felt like it. My throat was tight as I struggled to force breath into my lungs. Be calm. Everything's alright. You're safe, Vivian. Be calm.

I blinked, my breath catching with a sudden realization.

That… wasn't me thinking that.

I heard Charles sigh from the foyer. "You can come out, Miss Brooks."

Busted.

Well, this was embarrassing. I crossed my arms and did my walk of shame out from my hiding spot. I looked at Charles sheepishly. Of course, he'd caught me eavesdropping and freaking out.

"I wasn't lurking under the stairs on purpose," I said. "I just heard you guys coming and didn't want to interrupt… Or cross his path."

He gave me a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry you heard all that. He'll come around eventually. Erik's just…"

"Paranoid?"

Charles chuckled. "I was going to say cautious."

I nodded once. Okay. That sounds like an understatement but whatever. "So, honestly, on a scale from one to ten… how scared should I be?" I asked.

Charles grimaced, looking at me carefully as if to discern how likely I was to believe false reassurance. My expression told him enough. "Honestly? Perhaps a… four?"

I raised a brow. "A four… if I'm glued to your side? Or a four if I'm alone, walking down a dark alley that's filled with steak knives?"

He looked away to gather a response that wouldn't terrify me. Then gave up. "Er, a four in general...? There's no need for you to worry about Erik. He just needs time to think… and absorb all of this. Remember, it's a lot to come to terms with."

"I know… It just… sucks."

His lips gave a twitch of a smile. "Come now, how about that walk?"

My mouth opened in surprise as he led me back to the front doors. "I thought you weren't going to read my mind," I said, giving him a look as I stepped outside.

"My apologies," he said, looking only slightly apologetic. Charles shut the door behind us and continued right. "Sometimes it happens without my doing. If a person is particularly excited or distressed, their thoughts are louder, clearer."

I completely gutter balled. "Uck. University must've been hell. All of those raging hormones, and drug and alcohol fueled activities. "

He laughed, sticking his hands in his pockets as we walked. "It definitely had its challenges."

We left the side of the manor, following the gravel trail into the rows of tall hedges. It surprised me that they were still neatly trimmed and shaped. Hadn't he and Raven only recently got back from England? They didn't seem to have any servants or anything. Maybe they had a hired groundskeeper, who kept up the property while they were away. That's likely. Or maybe the timeline was different than I remembered it, now that there weren't film edits and montages. They could've been back awhile. Wouldn't it be wild if things were drastically different? Tsk. I might be okay then, if I didn't have any vital—oh yeah!

"Dude!"

Charles jumped slightly. "Pardon?"

"Sorry, I just remembered! I need to, kind of, talk to you about… You know… Emma Frost?"

He raised a brow. "You know about…? Oh, of course, you do. Right. What is it about her?"

I shrugged as if it were obvious. "What do I do about her?"

"I… don't follow, sorry."

"What do I do if she reads my mind? Like, not to brag or anything, but I've got some pretty hot secrets up in here," I said, pointing to my head. "If she found anything out—oh my god! Like she could start World War III! Or worse! We'd be seriously screwed!"

"Miss Brooks." Charles had to raise his voice over my panicking and I stopped, staring at him wide-eyed as if he were nuts to not be freaking out like me. "Miss Brooks, she's already been apprehended."

"What?"

"Erik and I turned her over to the CIA days ago," he assured me, giving my upper arm a squeeze. "You don't have to worry about your 'hot secrets' getting out."

I blinked out of my fear-fueled panic. "Oh… OH. Right!" I nearly slapped myself. DUH. They already did the Russia thing.

Charles stepped back, giving me a curious look. "I would have expected you to know that…"

I shook my head. "I did, I just… momentarily forgot," I said lamely. "I guess I wasn't thinking clearly…"

He kept looking at me as if he were trying to sum me up. I rolled my eyes at him. "Gimme a break. It's been like a year since I saw the film…" I said, crossing my arms. "And I don't have a perfect memory."

"Nor do I," he told me, smiling, "Though that does bring up a good point."

I quirked a brow.

"I think," he went on, "That the key to your return begins with your arrival." He stopped to face me, his eyes alight. "If we can figure out how you came here, naturally, we could use the means to take you back. Given that they're reproducible, of course."

His toothy grin distracted me for a moment, then I snapped back to my dilemma. "But… that's the thing," I said. "I don't know how I got here."

"Maybe you don't," Charles continued, still looking enthusiastic at his idea. "But maybe you do."

I frowned. "I'm telling the truth though…"

He shook his head, waving away my protest. "No, you misunderstand. What I meant is on a subconscious level. It's very possible that whatever transported you to this world may have left a trace in your memories."

I wanted to be optimistic, since he was my best chance at discovering anything but… it was hard not to be skeptical. Like literally nothing happened. "I…don't know…"

"What may seem insignificant could actually prove to be vital, Vivian," he said, throwing out my name like a fishing hook.

I crossed my arms, not biting… But, dear lord, his hopeful stare, those bright blue eyes of persuasion— Urrrg. "Okay. Even if that is possible. And I do subconsciously know what happened… How do I remember it suddenly? Do, do I have to go back to that street? And like walk back and forth until something jogs my brain?"

"That could invoke something, but… I was thinking of a faster way…"

I stared at him.

He raised his brows, waiting for me to get it.

I got it.

"Oh no," I said, stepping away from him. "You said you weren't going to pick my brain!"

"I won't," he said quickly. "That sounds dreadful, actually… But I must tell you that without my assistance, you may not discover the cause of your transportation."

I chewed the inside of my cheek, and he touched my arm. "You trusted me before," he added softly. "I would only see what you allow, and you'd be there with me, seeing exactly as I see."

The idea was scary; I'm not going to lie. Even though I had a better trust in Charles than I did last night, it freaked me out… having someone in your head, seeing… everything they wanted… if they wanted.

But this was Charles Xavier. And he gave me his word.

I sighed. "You… really think this would work?"

He perked up at my slight agreement. "What pattern was on the blanket I gave you?"

"What?"

"Last night, when you'd come in from the rain," he smirked. "Describe it for me."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Humor me."

My mouth opened then closed. "Well, it… was mostly blue. And had tassels at the ends…" I tried to concentrate. It was thick and warm, and soft if I brushed over it the right way, probably hand knitted… Medium blue with… there was flecks of yellow? "Was there yellow?"

"That's all you remember?"

"I… guess. Yeah."

He lifted his hand to the side of his face. "Do you mind if I test my theory?"

I took a deep breath. I have to trust him. I nodded, but he waited until I said, "okay" before he touched his temple.

"Here, why don't you sit by the fire? You're freezing."

Charles led me to the couch, gently touching my arm. He reached behind me and retrieved a thick blanket. "Take this," he said, unfurling it and handing it to me.

"Thanks," I mumbled, feeling bad for tracking water all over his house. What a great first impression, Viv... But I was more than grateful and wrapped the blanket over my shoulders.

I pulled it closed at my chest, my fists shaking as they held it tightly. Charles sat down across from me and Erik stood off to the side, watching us. He made me uneasy.

"Try to focus on the blanket, Vivian."

Charles?

Remember why we're here.

Charles reached behind me and retrieved a thick blanket. "Take this," he said, unfurling it and handing it to me.

I paused before I could thank him. Everything seemed to sharpen, become clearer and less dream-like. I looked up at Charles. He wasn't moving; instead he hovered above his chair, ready to sit down. I looked to Erik who was just as immobile. He was staring at the door, his lips pursed.

I'm here for the blanket.

I looked down in my lap, the blanket draped over my wet jeans. I ran a hand over the fabric, smoothing it out so I could see it better. There were deer and… elk, I think. Mustard and brown colored. They were fixed against a pine forest. The deer and trees repeated after awhile, making several rows of the scene.

I did it. I'd remembered something I'd forgotten.

Charles was grinning ear to ear when my eyes refocused. I had to look away as I felt my face flush. "Alright… That was pretty cool," I admitted.

He clapped me on the shoulder in celebration. "Thank you for taking that leap of faith," he said, shifting his hand to my back to lead me through the garden. "And also, there's no need to feel bad about a little rainwater. If the hardwood could hold up to my and Raven's tracking mud on it for years, nothing can damage it."

I had to look away quickly, my face now burning red. I hadn't realized he'd heard all that. Oh god, how much of this is he picking up on? Did he hear me talking about his eyes? Would it be too suspicious if I asked if he could hear me? Alright, if you're hearing this, tell me… Seriously.

"Vivan?"

My head whipped back to him. "W-what?"

"Do you think you're up for it?"

"Umm." What is he talking about? He'd been talking this whole time? "Sorry, I… what'd you say?"

He smiled at my confusion, unoffended that I'd been ignoring him. "Would you like to try for real now? Can you take me to the moment you left your world?"

My heart picked up.

"That's the thing… I… There wasn't really a moment," I tried to explain, as I did to myself a dozen times over. "It just happened, I guess, and it took me awhile to realize it."

Charles gave a slow nod. "Talk me through it."

"Okay…"

I brought back as many details as I could, the time, the weather, the traffic, the crowd, even the thoughts that were going through my head. We veered from the gravel path and crossed a lawn, into a more enclosed space. Tall trellises rose up on either side of the path that met with an aged stone pergola. A mass of ivy grew over them, the small pointed leaves tinged with the orange of autumn, and small exotic shrubs and bright flowers lined the ground. It was less prim than the front property, giving it a more of a vintage beauty that matched the manor.

"I'd just been so worried about finals and being late that I wasn't paying much attention to stuff around me," I went on. "I was more focused on texting my friend than anything."

Charles faltered. "I'm sorry, texting?"

"Yeah, it's… like sending a written message to someone's cell… uh. Well, we have cell phones; they're portable telephones."

He blinked back surprise but nodded. "Alright."

"I actually have mine up in the room if you're curious. But anyway, instead of calling you can just send a message."

"You mean like a pager?"

I paused, recalling what that was. "Uh, I've never actually seen a pager, but, yeah, I think the concept's about the same."

"But, anyway, the message I sent failed. I got an automatic reply saying that there was a problem sending it," I told him. "Which was weird, because I had good reception before and it should've gone through."

"So, you would say that was your first indication that something was wrong?" Charles asked.

I twisted my lips. "I guess so. After that, I started noticing how people were dressed funny so… by then, I must have already crossed over."

He nodded, silent and pensive.

I sighed. "I know it's not much to go on."

"No, that's fine. It's something, at least," he dismissed, biting his lower lip in thought. "How about we dive back in, see if we can't find something you overlooked."

The first time wasn't too bad, I figured. We'll have to do this eventually, so there was no point in putting it off. I nodded. "Let's do it," I shrugged, stopping under the pergola, the shade of the foliage giving me goose-bumps on my bare legs.

Charles stepped a bit closer than I expected, only a foot between us. "I have to go a bit deeper into your mind," he told me, holding his hand to the side of my face. "Try to remain still."

"Okay."

His fingers touched my temple, his pinky just grazing the top of my ear, and his palm hovered near my cheek, almost making contact.

I had to shut my eyes. I just couldn't concentrate with him being all…right here, where I can notice the few light freckles across his nose or the warm inviting scent of his cologne. I'll be damned if he thinks I'm checking him out. Because I'm not. It's just hard not to notice these things up close…

My eyelids felt so weighted it seemed ridiculous to try and open them. The alarm was going to go off again. It already had three…no, four times and I wondered if the snooze button would fall off from my frequently slamming it.

Finals, a panicky part of my brain reminded. You're almost free! But you have to get up.

I groaned at myself.

Viv, move your butt. Get out of bed.

It was so comfortable though.

If you're late, you'll regret it…

Just a little more—the alarm clock start beeping and I reflexively smacked the button. Fine. I'm awake and responsible, are you happy? I sat up begrudgingly, and switched the alarm officially off. Then I didn't move, squinting into the dim room until my senses started to return.

Curse whoever invented finals. And alarm clocks.

I rubbed at my eyes, mentally telling myself what I needed to do and deciding that I didn't have the time nor patience to try and study on my way to Uni. First thing's first. I had to eat something or else I wouldn't make it through the exam. I could microwave some eggs or, no, I was going to end up eating toast, I recalled.

I froze. Wait a second.

I remembered now. This is in the past, in my head. I was aware of Charles' presence in the back of my mind now. I knew what was happening, what had happened, well, what was going to happen. Everything went quiet as I stalled the memory. I really wasn't looking forward to this next part… Was this even important? Could I skip ahead?

Because the next thing that happens is I get out of bed… And it's May so that means the weather's nice and that means that I… I don't sleep with pants on… And I'd rather die than let Charles Friggin' Xavier know that my panties have "Pirate's Booty" written across the bum.

Wait.

Damn it!

I was at the crosswalk now. Already dressed and waiting for the light to change. I turned to look at the people around me. Two young girls, in matching plaid uniforms, probably going to high school, or ditching it. A guy behind me, large studded headphones, facial piercings, bright red hair, smiling like he'd heard a joke. A brunette in scrubs with Disney characters. An older man with grey hair, tweed suit, newspaper tucked under his arm. I watched him, he wasn't moving now, so I bent down to try and read the date off his paper. May 12th, 2014. I straightened. Okay. And the memory carried on at normal speed, the sound of the traffic's white noise picking up again.

My cell was already in my hand, and I checked it instinctively. 9:40 AM, exactly. Twenty minutes till my exam. I tapped my foot. Wait… I glanced back at my phone… I had reception.

I'm still here.

The light changed and I was walking, trying to stay ahead of the group as I had before. My heart was going faster now, anticipation rising with each step of the crosswalk.

A horn blared from my left, making me jump. Oh yeah, the A-hole. I paused to glare back at the angry FedEx driver. It's not my fault you're deliveries are in New York, buddy. He leaned out of his window, trying to move me and the other pedestrians along. I kept going, reaching the pavement and looking back at my phone. 9:41 AM. Nineteen minutes till class. I started to text Nikki, my thumbs moving on their own accord.

Hey. Meet me for a coffee?

I stared down at the screen until the error message came up. No signal. Had I always had no signal? No, I'd had one before. When had it—

Someone bumped into me rather hard. "Watch where you're going!" he shouted, storming off. The glasses guy. "Stupid kid."

I stared after him… This was it. I'm here again. I looked back down at my phone, dejectedly, and sighed.

"Charles?" I called. "Did I miss something?"

"Your phone, Vivian," he said to me, his voice surprisingly clear.

Was he talking for real or just in my head?

"In your mind," he answered, sounding amused. "It's less distracting, I find."

Oh… okay, then.

"But what do I do?"

"Start over. Only this time, keep your sole attention on your phone… It might prove to be a good indication of your departure."

The light changed green, indicating for us pedestrians to cross, and I was quickly pushed along by the throng of hurried people. I had a signal as I walked. The horn blared, but I ignored it. I still had a signal. No, wait. It'd dropped a bit. I only had one bar now.

When my foot touched the sidewalk, I still had that bar. For about ten seconds. No signal. I looked up. Handsome but rude glasses guy was nowhere in sight. It was before him, then. I'd definitely switched worlds before him.

Again.

The light changed green. My eyes were glued to the screen of my phone. Full bars. Seven steps into the street, one bar dropped. Then another. When the horn blared, the signal was still halved. Two steps from the pavement, two bars. On the pavement, one bar. Then none.

What did that even mean?

Did I find the one magical street in New York? That… I just happened to cross every day just fine. Until now.

I looked back across the street. It was blurred and hard to distinguish. Like when someone took a picture of something while the camera was moving.

"You cannot remember what you didn't see, Vivian," Charles told me. "Don't strain too hard. Look around you. What else is there?"

I guess that made sense… I hadn't actually looked back once I'd crossed the street.

Slowly, I turned on the spot. The buildings and shop on the one side were more in focus. It was the sixties side with the people in sixties clothes, some more clear than others. I guess I hadn't paid everyone attention? The group from the other side of the crosswalk was gone too… I looked around but none were in sight, not a trace to prove I was ever beside them.

So it was just me that was transported... Unless they all went to different realities, or whatever. If somebody got Harry Potter World, I'll be pissed.

"Vivian, concentrate."

I know, I know... Maybe... I could see when the others disappeared! Because then I'd know when I disappeared! Right?

The light changed green for us to walk… I eyed the man with the newspaper like a hawk. I refused to take my eyes off him, even though I had the feeling I should be checking my phone. It started to ring and I looked down.

The light changed green. I blinked. What just happened?

The crowd was pushing me ahead. No, wait, my cell didn't ring, did it?. I could still hear it and it wasn't a ringtone. Just a shrill drawn out whine. It was my ears ringing, I think.

I'd already lost the group. I was on the other side of the crosswalk again. Crap.

The light changed green, my ears were still ringing. I tailed the man again. His gait was normal. He pulled the newspaper from under his arm as he walked. I didn't even get to the FedEx truck honking this time. Instead, everything froze. Including me.

I stared straight ahead.

Everything was washed out, looking white and faded.

The man didn't move.

Nothing moved.

The roar of traffic had stopped entirely.

The ringing in my ears had not.

I couldn't tell if it was louder now, or if it only seemed that way because everything else had gone quiet.

I could almost feel the sound.

Like on landline phones when no one was on the other line.

Dial tone.

"That's enough, I think."

There was a rush of senses and I felt cool stone on my legs. I blinked rapidly, disoriented and light headed.

"You're alright, you're alright."

Charles was trying to steady me. He was bending over me. I was kneeling, trying to slump to the ground.

"The fuck…?"

"Just try to relax," he told me, kneeling beside me. "That was a lot for you to take in."

"What… happened?" I managed to ask, my dizziness slowly being replaced with a headache.

Charles frowned. "You were pushing the boundaries of your subconscious… And it didn't like it."

"It? Don't you mean me?"

He looked away in thought. "Technically, yes. But it would seem, your memory is… blocked, as I anticipated."

"Blocked?"

"That's right. Here, are you alright enough to stand?"

"Yeah, I'm okay now," I said, letting him pull me to my feet. He didn't let go until I was steady.

"Here, come this way." Charles led me out from under the shade of the pergola and over to a bench against a stone railing. "The main role of the subconscious, aside from regulating breathing and heart rate and the like, is to control what can and can't enter conscious thought." There was a light in his eyes as he started getting into his technical talk. His professor mode was admittedly cute. I tried to push away my headache to focus on what he was saying. "Those memories which are deemed troublesome or which may cause negative side effects are blocked out from the person's conscious mind, or repressed into the subconscious. It's a defense mechanism, essentially."

"So, you think I'm repressing something…? The moment when I crossed world?"

"There's no doubt about it, Vivian. When your memory whited out, that was the subconscious at work. You were starting to dig a little too deep, too close to the primal repression," he said, furrowing his brows. "It is interesting though, that you have any memory of the event to work with… Normally, I'd expect that you'd block out the entire before and after as well."

"Okay! But if we can pinpoint 'the event' to when I was crossing the street, couldn't you just… unblock the memory?" I asked.

"It's… not quite as simple as it sounds," Charles admitted. "This is a very delicate part of the mind, Vivian. We'll have to be extremely careful when attempting to draw out the memory and process it."

"But… you can do it?" I asked, gripping the edge of the bench.

"With time and patience, yes," he nodded. "I think we can." I gave a small smile. This was something. We were making progress, at least. Charles ducked his head, touching his temple briefly, as his brows furrowed. "But, that will have to be another time," he said to me, standing, a grin spreading on his face. "There's someone I'd you to meet."