Her best way of getting out was her weakness. The mounting pressure between her and her current traveling companion came to a climax, and words were said. Forces were used. She'd been a little more harsh and a lot more powerful than she expected or wanted; but the one thing that had been the issue in her life lately had been the result of this person fucking with everything, for fun. Her marriage was on the rocks, and though the Beth side of her hadn't understood what was going on or even why things were rocky, Betsy had gotten the confirmation that she'd been wanting. She was merely centimetres away from scrambling someone's brain--her fury had gotten the best of her. She'd wanted so desperately to use her psychic knife, finally, but at what cost? Mystique might've deserved it, but Raven didn't.
Tears streamed down Beth's face as her eyes remained closed. She'd been able to finally come in contact with someone--another powerful telepath, Heather--but she'd shut that point of contact out completely, after a premonition had flashed in her brain. She had felt someone in her head, fishing for information, but was it past? Was it present? Would it be future? She put up a mental roadblock, which meant no one would get in her head, scramble her up, learn her secrets...but it also meant that no one could contact her. She didn't know how exactly she was going to get home. Hell, she didn't even know where exactly she was, to begin with. Mentally, physically, emotionally exhaustion had begun to set in, and she was hungry, but she refused to give in. She would remain vigilant, in case Mystique tried to kill her. In case someone else might try to kill the both of them. In case that sense of doom that she'd felt was something coming from the future.
She shuddered, knowing she would be out there with Mystique for at least another day, probably two. Her premonition had told her so, that a way of transport would make itself known, and though she wouldn't be taken home, she'd be taken to safety. She didn't know by whom or what, but all she could think of is the secure feeling she felt when she realised she'd be safe again, at home, with her husband. He was all she could think of at that moment as she shivered in her spot, fighting a losing battle with the tears in her eyes. They just kept coming as she thought about her couch, her bed, her apartment, her things...she tried to remember them one by one, as if maybe thinking about them would transport her away. No avail. She thought about her dogs, the way Chewie had been curled up between her knees when she'd been transported. Nothing. She thought about Pete, and wished she could feel his arms around her once more, his lips on her cheekbone like he always did, the way his stubble would gently scratch her skin. It'd been much longer than 2 days since she'd felt that feeling, and it only made her shudder and cry even more. She couldn't remember the last time she'd even talked to him.
Soon. Soon. Soon, she thought. I'll be home soon.