Hope || Charles & Elektra
It was more difficult by herself. To admit that this might be a good idea, that she should be trying to get someone to help. To let someone into her head. Her head wasn’t the most pleasant of places, especially not her memories. It was an angry mess, half the time, pain and rage boiling together - loneliness that echoed and ached down deep, that practically keened. And that was before the Hand twisted her, before the emptiness of being forged into a weapon was added to it all. None of it was good and the idea of letting someone else see it seemed far less... wise, once she wasn’t actively bleeding out.
And yet, there was the matter of her agreeing at the time. Knowing that Logan had allowed Charles in his mind, knowing that, deep in her bones, she needed help. She managed well enough on her own, yes, but perhaps she shouldn’t be. Perhaps - perhaps she needed to go meet him anyway, to try and make that step towards being something more than the weapon they made her. To be herself, again, with whatever pieces of her remained. And this, this should be a step in the right direction. Or so she hoped, anyway.
So she went, driving to the Institute and finding herself a little bemused at all the life, the activity around the campus as she entered. There was this definite feeling of life in this place, something that she was finally convinced of by seeing. Logan’s soft spot for the place made a lot more sense, seeing it herself. It was remarkable, in its own right.
She asked around for Charles Xavier, followed directions to his office and ignored the curious stares and dodged questions - her business was her own, and she wasn’t much of one for small talk anyway. Knocking softly on the door, she cracked it open and peered inside. “I - I know you said I would not be disturbing, but all the same. I can return another time, if you would prefer. But I am no longer bleeding, so.”
