Chapter 3: Outside Your Head
December 24th, Christmas Eve.
Hank’s Lab
Erica didn’t know what to think when Hank came to her room that morning suggesting she try something in his lab. Her heart wasn’t in it, she hadn’t slept since the last encounter with Charles and she just wanted to go back to her apartment. She had been thinking of completely erasing herself from existence, using whatever money she had left to travel the world, or donating it to the War. Granted it wasn’t much but it would make her feel like she helped out in some way. She even thought about giving herself up to the government afterwards. The idea of her being hooked up to machines and being experimented on sent shivers through her body. But living with the nightmares for the rest of her life scared her more.
Entering his lab she was greeted by an overwhelming amount of fluorescent white and blue lighting. Looking around the room, the space was cluttered but organized, with advanced computers, and monitors displaying data that Erica would never be able to understand. There was a variety of chemical vials and beakers scattered across metal tables along the back of the room. The walls were lined with shelves filled with books and research papers, all meticulously arranged.
However, at the center of it all was something she hadn’t anticipated. It was a strange spherical device perched on a pedestal in the center of the room. Its smooth, metallic surface gleamed under the soft, bluish lights, giving it an almost otherworldly aura. She wasn’t sure what it was, but it felt important—as if the room was designed around it. Wires snaked out from the base of the device, sprawling across the floor and connecting to several monitors.
Erica was amazed by how advanced the technology in the room was. Hank noticed her surprise as she laid her eyes on the helmet in the center of the room.
“It’s called Cerebro. It was part of the first model I made back when I worked for the CIA.” Hank clarified.
”You worked for the CIA?!” Erica exclaimed, snapping out of her slight trance.
”I did… Until the program… uhhh…shut down and Charles basically had my entire lab brought here. Very nice of him by the way.” He leaned. He began typing on the large computer next to Cerebro.
”At the expense of you being his personal errand boy…” Erica said slyly.
”Sorry.” She cleared her throat and continued. ”So what exactly does “cerbio” do?”
”Cerebro helps transmit brain waves. It helped us find… students… Uhhh…” Hank swallowed, trying to hide something. “I created it to help amplify Charles' telepathic abilities so his range reached all over the world rather than just around him. ” He added.
“Oh, I see.” She spoke cautiously. She wanted to be excited about it. She wanted to feel like this could give her progress. But all she saw was a version of her future in front of her. Being hooked up to a machine to be studied.
She swallowed, trying to hide her discomfort. ”But umm, as amazing as “Cerebro” is… how does that work with my situation?”
”Oh! right! I’ve modified it so we can see your dreams… outside of your head.” He clarified while still typing away on his computer.
”Like… Like a film?” She asked.
”More like a live broadcast” He stood up and rolled what looked to be a large dentist chair to the side of the helmet.
Erica nodded in understanding, watching as he set up the area. He seemed quite excited but she could tell he was trying to hide it.
“You know it’s funny, I came here so I wouldn’t be hooked up to machines.” She chuckled.
He stood up slowly, taking in what she had just said. He knew that fear all too well. Working in the CIA, he saw what could have happened to mutants, and what could be happening now. He had lived with the fear of being found out for years before Charles had found him.
“Don’t worry. My machines are a lot nicer than most.” He said.
“And I will completely understand if you don’t want to participate.” He spoke quickly, looking at her with an understanding smile. She stared at the helmet for a moment. She wanted it to be scary-looking so she could say no. So she could walk away from the room and go home. But nothing was causing her to back away.
She wanted answers to why she couldn’t control her mutation more than anyone. She nodded towards him and went and sat in the large chair. She got comfortable and Hank began to prepare some patches for her.
“Now, you’re going to be asleep, obviously. These patches are to monitor your heartbeat and your blood pressure.” He peeled one patch and handed it to her so she could place it on the left and right side of her chest.
She complied without saying a word, wanting to understand as much as she could before she was to face the creature again.
“When you are asleep, I should be able to see everything that is going on, there's no guarantee but this is a trial.” He walked over and grabbed the helmet from its stand.
“What do you mean it’s only a trial? You haven’t tested this?” Erica asked, slightly panicked.
“Well, I only finished working on it this morning-“He began.
”This morning?!” Erica’s panic was growing.
“It’s fine, I do this way more than you might think. Besides, very rarely do my machines fail.” He reassured her. She gave him a look but allowed him to put the helmet on her.
She laid back and tried to get comfortable.
“Will it hurt?” Erica asked quietly.
”You might feel some slight pressure in your head but it should pass quickly.” He explained.
He began tightening some wires hooked up to the helmet, securing them in place.
“Once you’re asleep, your dreams should be projected onto this screen over here.” He pointed to a standard television. Erica noted that he would only be able to see her dreams in black and white, he wouldn’t have to witness the disgusting blood and flesh oozing out of the creature. Which was slightly comforting to her.
”I’ll be right here the whole time. And when you’re able to wake up I’ll tell you what I’ve learned. Sound good?” He sat in an old office chair in between the desk and where Erica was sitting.
She nodded, closing her eyes and preparing to sleep.
“Hank?”
“Yes?” He paused to look at her.
“Just…” She held up her hand towards him, “Don’t touch me when I’m asleep. Not even to adjust the helmet… just… stay over there. “ she warned, pointing to where he was sitting. Hank smiled, looking between her and the monitors.
“Would not dream of it… Literally. “ he joked. Erica gave him a look and he quickly looked away and cleared his throat.
“Okay. Ready when you are.” He flipped some switches and Erica took a deep breath.
She laid her head back in the chair. Closing her eyes, allowing herself to fall asleep. One of the constant uses for her mutation was her ability to fall asleep on command. It was quite useful during her nurse training.
As she fell into her dreamscape, the monitors and machines surrounding her began to light up. The heart rate monitor began to race slightly due to her anticipation. Hank's eyes widened, watching the television screen intensely, waiting for the images to show.
Erica was once again in the dark room, the smoke was thick and the walls were red. Just as quickly as the walls built up, they raced away. Expanding so wide that the room became a void.
“Well, that’s new…” Erica stated. She began walking, in what direction she was not sure. She was looking for something, anything, but there was nothing. A few large stones. As she continued walking she was suddenly faced with a gate. It was the front gate of the mansion.
Hank watched as the images unfolded on the screen, each scene drawing him deeper into the unsettling reality Erica was navigating. She had pushed open the iron gate and stepped onto the grounds of what had once been Charles Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters—or rather, the ruins that remained.
The once-grand building stood in partial ruin; one half had been reduced to rubble, while the other was draped in a suffocating web of dead branches.
Erica approached the front door, her steps hesitant. She considered knocking out of courtesy, her hand hovering near the lion-shaped knocker, but before she could touch it, the door creaked open on its own, a sound that made her heart pound in her chest.
As she stepped inside, the air thickened with dust, the particles swirling in the dim light that filtered through the shattered windows. In the center of the room, a lone wheelchair sat ominously, abandoned and still. Erica’s breath caught as she took a cautious step forward, her eyes widening as a figure slowly began to materialize in the chair.
“Hank, what are you doing?” Charles said as he entered the lab. Hank jumped at the sound of his voice, engrossed in the television screen.
“Charles! Uhh…” he looked at Charles' annoyed and groggy face. Observing that he also did not get much sleep. “R-Recording her brain activity?”
Charles shakes his head, then rubs his eyes in irritation.
“All I asked was for you to stall her Hank. As in offer to make her breakfast not hook her up to your bloody machines.” Charles argued.
“I just wanted to see what exactly we’re dealing with,” Hank said casually. He looked to the right of the monitor at the brain scanner. He watched as a series of lines were being drawn.
“Come look at this.” He motioned for Charles to come over. “This line is her cerebral cortex, her conscious mind.” The line was quite jagged and fast-moving, indicating it was being used intensely.
“And this line here is scanning the hypothalamus, the area in which dreams are created,” Hank explained showing the other almost equally jagged line.
“She’s fully asleep but completely conscious. It’s remarkable.” Hank said enthusiastically.
Charles nodded looking at the sheet that was rapidly being printed out before him.
“And what is this line?” Charles pointed to the third red line on the sheet, it was even more sporadic than the others. Hank looked away awkwardly, avoiding eye contact.
“Hank.” He demeaned.
“It’s her amygdala.” Hank started looking at the monitor again. “The fear receptor part of the brain.”
Charles rolled in front of the television.
“Hank what is that?!” He asked concerningly.
Erica had been watching the figure form in front of her. It was under a type of white spotlight. Suddenly she began to hear echoes.
“You’re broken…” The dishevelled voice whispered. She couldn’t pinpoint where she had heard it before.
“You’re a monster, you know that?” It said again.This time she recognized the sound of her ex-fiances voice.
As the figure formed she began to recognize what was happening. As it was constructing itself, her ears were filled with the sound of bones snapping and flesh moulding into place. She could recognize the brown shaggy hair, the unkempt facial hair, dirty clothes and the aura of defeat. It was Charles Xavier.
“Is that… me?” Charles asked, staring at the screen.
The figure in the wheelchair snapped up its hanging head to face Erica, who was frozen in the doorway.
“Hello, Erica. Come for another round?” The figure had an almost distorted tone to its voice. But it sounded distorted.
“What?” She felt her heart begin to race. The brain scanners began to go off the charts.
“I’ve shown you my failures, how about I show you yours?” The figure raises two fingers to its temple, the same way Charles had done the night before.
Erica quickly shook her head no. As the space between his fingers and temple closed she grasped her head and waited for the impact.
“No, no, no….” She cried quietly gripping her head, nearly grinding her teeth.
“Charles, what happened last night?” Hank asked him, observing the figure on the screen.
“She needs to wake up!” Charles shouted urgently. He rolled over beside her.
“Don’t touch her!” Hank shouted, raising his hand.
”She said not to touch her while she’s dreaming, she said to keep your distance.” He explained.
“Alright… we’ll do this my way then,” he muttered, determination hardening his voice. As he attempted to enter her mind, he was met with fierce resistance—barriers of flashing red slashes that lashed out like claws, tearing into his psyche and forcing him back. It was swift and brutal, and he was compelled to stop almost as soon as he had begun. Pain errupted in his skull, and he gripped his head, groaning as the onslaught left him reeling.
“What is it?” Hank asked.
“I can’t get in her head.” Charles admitted bitterly.
“What?” Hank asked in disbelief.
”Something is keeping me out.” He shouted.
”What do you mean something is keeping you out?”
”I can’t get in Hank! That’s all there is to it!”
Suddenly, the lights in the room began flickering.
“That can’t be good.”
Erica was gripping her head as images of all the patients she had lost began flashing through her head. Images of them being sick, malnourished and cold. They were screaming at her, crying in her ears that she had failed them. She was experiencing the same throbbing sensation as she did the first time, her face covered in her tears of pain and anguish.
“Please… stop…” She cried softly.
“Do you feel it? Do you feel their suffering? The suffering you caused?!” His voice echoed in her head, causing her eyes to roll back in pain.
Is it possible to pass out in your own head? She asked herself.
She was given a memory of an argument she had with her mother. It was a stupid argument about her sneaking out to a party.
“Your father would be so disappointed in you if he were here.” She shouted, storming out the door to work the night shift at the hospital. Those were the last words she had said to Erica.
Her next memory was in the morgue. Shortly after the argument, her mother was hit by a drunk driver, killing her on impact. For the first time when she was 17 years old, Erica was asked to identify her Mother.
Flashes of her cold, half-beaten face, the other half a pale white. She’d never seen her mother so still. The images were engraved in her.
The lights continued to flicker in Hank’s Lab. At the expense of her stress becoming overwhelming, Erica’s physical body began to twitch uncontrollably. Hank unfortunately hadn’t thought of strapping her arms and legs down.
"Hank, she needs to wake up now!" Charles yelled, his voice edged with desperation. Hank darted to the switchboard, fingers flying over the keys as he frantically tried to program a way to pull her out. On the screen, the figure that resembled Charles Xavier began to twist and contort, its bones cracking and snapping as it morphed into something hideously grotesque.
"HANK!" Charles shouted again, panic rising in his voice.
"Nothing's working!" Hank screamed back, his voice strained as he continued to hammer at the controls.
The creature on the television seemed to sense their fear, inching closer to the screen with a sense of awareness. The lights in the room flickered wildly, while the monitor's glow intensified, as if the creature was feeding off the power. Then, the black-and-white image on the screen began to distort, spewing out a thick, fleshy red gunk. The substance oozed from the screen, pooling on the floor in a growing, pulsating mass.
Charles looked between Erica and the puddle. The gunk began to take shape, once again growing into the creature, teeth, claws and all. Panic began to settle into him. Hank was so focused on programming that he hadn’t noticed the other monster in the room until it let out an ear-shattering scream.
Charles' face was terrified, “Wake up, Wake up, Wake up!” He said to her twitching body. His voice grew with fear.
It faced Hank, lifting one of its jagged arms and taking a swing at him. He morphed into his blue mutant form upon impact as he was thrust into the wall.
“Charles!” He choked out, being pinned up against the wall. Charles tried to infiltrate its mind. But he quickly realized that it didn’t seem to have one. He looked back over to Erica, realizing what he had to do.
“Charles don’t!” Hank warned, squirming against the creature's hand.
”She has to wake up!” He shouted back at him while looking at her.
Hank continued to fight the creature eventually breaking free. He grabbed the nearest chair and threw it at it. The creature retaliated, destroying one of the monitors.
“Please work…” He whispered to himself as he grabbed her arm. Forcing himself into her mind.
His heart fell into his stomach. as he was thrusted in Erica’s nightmare. He was face-first on the ground, seemingly suffering from the worst hangover headache he’d ever had. Looking around he saw the creature, an identical one that had infiltrated the lab, practically hovering over Erica’s crouched body. She was choking on air, struggling to break free.
Charles stood up. To his surprise, he began walking. He’d be more excited about it if the circumstances were different.
“Hey!” He shouted at the monster. The flesh cracked its neck towards him, distracted, Erica collapsed to the ground. Once again it let out a horrendous scream causing both of them to cover their ears.
Erica turned around, surprised to see Charles standing, unsure if it was an illusion or not.
“Stop doing this!!” She shouted at him. She didn’t realize he was real. That he wasn’t just a figment of her mind.
“Stop doing what?! I’ve come to help you!” He shouted back, running to her side. A gust of wind began circling the room.
“YOU NEED TO WAKE UP!” he commanded, urgency tightening his voice. The creature’s screeches grew louder as it suddenly closed in on them. Erica stared at him, searching for any sign that he was just a figment of her imagination. But he was real—Charles Xavier had defied her warnings and entered her mind, risking everything to pull her back to reality.
“RUN!” She shouted running to the front door. His eyes widened as it raised a hand at him, without hesitation he followed her outside, running as fast as his legs could take him. He couldn’t lie, the ability to feel his legs again was a freedom he hadn’t felt in a long time, but no matter how fast they ran, the creature was faster, catching up with ease. With one swift claw, the creature slashed at Charles's leg causing him to fall to the ground again. He yelled in pain as the claw mark pulsed out blood. The feeling was so real, he almost couldn’t believe it.
Erica heard his scream and quickly turned around. Seeing him grabbing the wound trying to stop it from bleeding. The creature got closer to him, crawling on all fours, its disgusting mouth getting inches away from him.
“NO!” She screamed, seeing what her nightmare had done.
Erica was watching, unsure of what she could do. She’d stood up to the creature countless times, each time having no effect. Watching it get closer to Charles, she could feel his fear growing, his helplessness, his pain. All the things she had felt for the past four months, alone. She clenched her fists, gathering whatever courage she could making her way to the monster. Charles' heart rate was quickening, he had been afraid before, terrified even, but it was as if this creature it was fear materialized.
Erica’s pace quickened as she ran towards it, her fear turning into anger. She could handle running from the monster night after night if she had to. She could handle failing day after day trying to figure out why her mutation had turned into this. She could handle whatever it threw at her. What she would not tolerate was harming someone else.
“Get away FROM HIM!” She shouted charging at the creature. Lunging at it with such a force it knocked back at least thirty feet. It screamed on impact.
Erica had stopped in front of Charles, shocked that she had even managed to move it at all. She had looked down at her hands and then at him. He was looking at her in astonishment. She ran to his side and was immediately overridden with guilt.
“I’m so sorry...” She tore off a piece of her already tattered shirt trying her best to cover the gash.
“It’s alright, I won’t feel it in the morning.” He grunted. She couldn’t even react, she was horrified. She knew the consequence of him getting hurt in her dream.
What she didn’t know was that the creature was barreling back toward them, faster and more ferocious than before. But Charles knew. He could sense it, and he knew she couldn’t face it again—the weight of her grief was too overwhelming here.
"Erica, listen to me," he urged, his voice low but intense. She met his eyes, and he held her gaze, willing her to focus.
"You have to calm down," he insisted. She shook her head, her voice trembling.
"I’ve tried—I can’t," she whispered, her panic rising as the creature sprinted closer, now on all fours.
"Erica, look at me!" he commanded. Her eyes darted back to his. "You want my help?" She nodded frantically. "Then you must follow my—" His voice faltered, a sharp pain shooting through him. "Instructions," he forced out. She nodded again, more desperately this time.
"Close your eyes," he ordered. She obeyed, her breath quick and shallow. "Now calm your mind. Remember, you are in control here," he said, his voice steady but urgent as he watched the creature close in. "This is all a dream. You have the power to wake up."
"I’ve tried—" she began again, but he cut her off.
"ERICA!" he shouted, gripping her face in his hands, forcing her eyes open. "WAKE UP!" His voice rang out as the creature lunged, just inches away.
Charles's eyes widened with fear as he watched the creature’s monstrous head rear back, its jaws opening wide to eradicate them both. A cold wave of dread washed over him, and for a split second, he felt the inevitability of what was to come.
Erica shot up in her chair, nearly sending the helmet crashing to the floor. Her breath came in ragged gasps, hands clawing at her chest as she frantically checked for fresh wounds. Relief washed over her, but it was short-lived. A piercing scream tore through the room. It was Charles.
Her head whipped around to see him bent over, clutching his leg, blood pooling beneath him. The sight of it sent a wave of guilt crashing over her. She wanted to help, to fix the mess she’d created, but her hands trembled. This was her doing. She’d hurt him, and nothing could undo it.
She looked around the room, Monitors were sliced through, wires and papers were flying all over, lights were flickering on and off. There was a large dark puddle on the ground in front of the empty television screen, just as quickly as she noticed it, it evaporated into the air.
Did I do this? She thought, the realization settling in.
Hank's sudden presence surprised her, his towering, blue-furred form startling her into a slight gasp.
“Hank?” she asked, her voice trembling as she took in his beastly appearance.
“Yes, it's me—” he began to explain.
“Can we do introductions later?!” Charles ground out, his voice strained with pain. Erica scrambled out of her chair, giving Hank room to lift Charles into it. She could see the effort it took for Charles to hold back another scream, his face pale and contorted as he stared up at the ceiling, trying to keep control.
Panic surged through her. “What can I do?” she asked Hank, her voice desperate.
“There’s a first aid kit on the wall. Get the bandages,” Hank ordered, pressing his large, hairy hand against Charles’s leg in a futile attempt to slow the bleeding. Erica darted to the kit, fumbling through it until she found the largest compression bandage she could.
She rushed back, thrusting it into Hank’s hand, her eyes glued to Charles as he shivered in agony. Slowly, she edged closer, drawn to the wound she had inflicted.
“I’m so, so sorry,” she whispered, guilt choking her voice. Charles met her eyes briefly before turning away, fighting to remain calm, to tell her it wasn’t her fault. But he knew it wouldn’t do anything for her.
“He’s lost a lot of blood. We need to get him to the infirmary,” Hank said, urgency lacing his words.
“You have an infirmary?” Erica asked, her mind struggling to keep up.
“Well, this was a school,” Hank replied tersely. Charles let out another cry, the pain finally overwhelming his defences.
“I need something for the pain!” he shouted, his voice cracking.
Hank raced back to the first aid kit, rifling through it only to find nothing useful. He turned to his vials and syringes, his frustration showing as he found nothing that could ease Charles’s suffering.
Erica's gaze flicked between Charles’s anguished face and Hank's frantic search. Then, grounding herself, she stepped closer to Charles. She reached out with trembling hands, cupping his face. Charles’s wild eyes met hers, and despite the pain, he found a strange comfort in her touch.
“You’re going to be alright, Charles,” she whispered, her voice steadying as she leaned in. “Go to sleep.”
Suddenly, the room that was filled with panic and chaos was very still and quiet. As she watched Charles drift into a peaceful sleep.
No dreams.
No nightmares.
Just sleep.