No Angels

Chapter 12

The moment Shaw's heart stopped beating, the ringing in Heather's ears ceased. The sudden, almost blaring silence had the girl swaying uneasily - the emptiness was almost louder and more unbearable than the noise. But that didn't stop the relief from rushing through her veins. Shaw was dead. The man who had killed Edie, who had tortured little Erik, was dead and gone. Maybe now both of them had the chance to move on - Edie from this life and Erik from his crippling vendetta. 

But - Heather felt sick to her stomach after watching the life fade from Shaw's eyes. She wasn't kidding when she told him he deserved everything he got, but that didn't mean watching his death wasn't disturbing. Heather had seen ghosts, she'd seen dead bodies - but never had she seen a death, a very horrifying death she might add, occur before her very eyes. 

The two stood there, frozen, their eyes stuck on the man's corpse, before Erik finally turned to face Heather. It took her a moment or two to rip her gaze away from the body - her thoughts full of relief, shock and a surprising amount of guilt - and when she faced the older man, her face was immediately smashed against a firm chest, arms coming to wrap around her waist tightly. It took her a few bit to react to that, but she hugged Erik back just as tightly, the relief outcoming all other emotions.

She may have had to witness a death, but at least it wasn't a friend. 

The hug was quick, however, as Erik pulled away and looked down at her, saying, "We need to get back to the others." Heather nodded in agreement, and turned to move out of a large hole in the frame of the room - most likely caused by Erik pulling the pipes out of the walls. Sensing Erik wasn't behind her, she glanced back and asked, "Are you coming?"

Erik stood in the same spot, a hand in his pocket pulling out a small metal object - a coin? - and gave her a reassuring look. "I'll be right behind you. Go."

Heather hesitated, but nodded and continued on her way. The cut on the back of her head throbbed and she could feel a headache coming on as she ducked down through the hole and made her escape. Exiting the sub, she was nearly blinded by the sun - which did nothing for her increasing headache - and she held a hand out above her eyes, squinting at the group gathering on the beach as she waited. Less than ten seconds after she left the sub, Erik followed and together, the two hurried over. Thankfully, everyone was there and appeared well - even Shaw's mutants, though they were standing off to the side, looking a little out of place. Spotting Charles, Heather felt a rush of guilt and she couldn't stop herself from spewing apologies left and right.

"I'm sorry, Charles," Heather began, as they approached, "I know it wasn't a part of the plan, but - "

"It's fine," Charles assured her, a small smile on his face. He opened his mouth to continue, but the man paled and his eyes widened. "Charles?" Erik questioned in concern, but before they could do anything else, Charles turned away from them, looking out at the sea where the Russian and American ships were. "They're planning on attacking the beach," Charles whispered in horror.

All the mutants turned to look at him with their very own looks of terror, as Charles repeated louder, "They're planning on attacking the beach." 

Moira didn't even hesitant a little as she rushed back to the remains of their jet - most likely to tell them to beach was clear. Heather tried to convince herself that Moira would be able to convince them, that they wouldn't have to worry about being under fire, but when Moira exited, a look of panic and helplessness on her pale face, Heather's stomach and hope dropped.