September 27, 1962
Erik walked out the doors and sat on the ledge. The balcony looked over the city, but he couldn't remember what city he was in. He could remember very little of the drive to the hotel actually. It was several hours away, and his blood had still been thrumming in his ears. His childhood nightmares had once again resurrected to haunt and torment him. He hadn't been alone this time though. No, his wife and daughters had been there too.
He closed his eyes and tried to visualize what they had seen that night, what they had been thinking when he finally stopped long enough to realize they were watching. Erik wasn't sure which was worse, having people attack and threaten their lives because of him, or the fact that he had nearly beaten a man to death while they watched. Anya had had a knife held to her throat, Susanna and Lorna had been threatened, and then they'd watched that. He couldn't imagine.
Then there was the question of his ability. He clenched and unclenched his hands. Oh yes, controlling metal. How could he forget about that in his list of sins for the day? His wife and two daughters had gotten a very good view of metal twisting and contorting to his will, an ability that he had tried so hard to keep hidden.
What had he been thinking, letting them see that? He wished that he didn't now, but he knew exactly what had been going through his mind. Schmidt, or Shaw as he seemed to go by, had tried to kill his family. He couldn't allow that, couldn't allow the merest hint of a scratch on them. Erik needed to destroy any threat.
Any mental reservations he'd had about doing so had been cleared away when his six-year-old daughter had been threatened with kidnap and death. Erik could only wonder at the affect it was having on his sweet little Anya. She was a gentle soul, just like her mother. The last he'd seen she was still clinging desperately to Susanna. He doubted that she would release her any time soon.
Then there was his oldest daughter, Lorna. There were still a few questions he had on that score, mostly because of the fact that Lorna had mimicked his ability. He'd been shocked to see it, and he wondered if that meant she would understand. It could arguably make things worse though, considering the fact that he was obviously to blame for her having it.
How long had she been able to manipulate metal? She seemed comfortable enough doing it, so it was probably at least a year. If she was any other person he would have thought longer because of the sheer fear it caused: God knew that he had been hesitant to experiment with it first. But no, his fearless daughter wouldn't have been afraid.
She had, however, reacted poorly to having her hair turn green suddenly. She had noticed it when, in silence, they had gotten into the car with the government agents who had offered protection. Lorna had leaned back and then frowned. One of her hands had grasped some of the green strands of her hair and she'd stared.
Her breath had come in short, choking gasps. He supposed that knowing that your ability was strange was one thing: seeing physical confirmation was quite another. Susanna had reached out at once and pulled Lorna to her. Anya had reached up too, grasping her sister's hand for mutual comfort.
Erik had wanted to say something then, perhaps tell Lorna that it was alright, tell them all that it was alright. He wasn't sure how, but he could still make things right. He knew that. One look at Susanna's face had been enough to stop him.
He'd leaned back then. Susanna was right. He'd done enough for one night. While her eyes had only confirmed what he already knew, it was still enough to cut him deeply. Susanna had every right to be angry, had every right to hate him. She had for years, but it appeared that she was only now realizing this.
Her understanding and love couldn't be limitless. Erik had known that it would have an end somewhere, and he'd lived in abject fear of finding it. Apparently he'd found it when strange people had come into her house and attempted to murder her and her children. It was perhaps the best last straw he'd ever heard of, and his mind had shut down to most of his surroundings when he realized it.
Would she leave him? As much as he hoped the answer was no, he knew that it was probably yes. Perhaps he still had time though. He could at least convince her not to go anywhere until they got Shaw sorted out. Whether or not she still wanted to bear his ring and last name, he wouldn't let anyone harm her.
He opened his eyes, looking out onto the stone street. He hadn't gone into the hotel room that night. Normally he would have rebelled against this. His family needed to be safe. However, he hadn't gone far. He was only a few doors down, and there was a SWAT team patrolling the hall. After their pitiful performance that night he didn't have too much faith in them, but he had enough to think that they would be useful cannon fodder until he got there.
Once they got to the proper facility, he would leave them. It would be difficult entrusting their safety to someone else, but he couldn't take them with him where he was going. Erik didn't trust the CIA to do what needed to be done. While Erik had had a difficult time dealing with Shaw, he'd been out of practice. He could go back to what he had been before, make sure that Shaw never darkened the door of his family again. Safety was the last, and most important, gift that he could offer them.
Someone was walking in the hallway. His eyes slid so that he could see whoever was approaching him, but he didn't move. The man who'd introduced himself as Charles Xavier came in, looking tired. He hooked his hands in his belt loops as he approached. Erik supposed that the cardigan didn't have any pockets.
"Trouble sleeping?" Charles asked.
Erik shrugged. He didn't feel like talking to a complete stranger about what was going on in his head.
"Me too really," Charles said, "The heavy military presence is rather uncomfortable."
Erik had to suppress a snort. Charles heard it though and raised his eyebrows.
"This is a skeleton unit, and it's not military. It's a group of armed specialists," said Erik, "I've seen real 'heavy military presence' since I was a child, and this isn't one."
"Yes, of course," Charles said.
He drummed his fingers on the ledge of the balcony. Erik crossed his arms. He had the feeling that the man next to him didn't often use unnecessary gestures.
"You want to talk about something or are you just wasting my time?" Erik snapped.
Charles gave him a mild look.
"Not exactly," he said, "And I don't think that I would trifle with a man who nearly killed our best lead. No, I learned how to stay out of those situations at school."
"It's unlikely that he'll talk," Erik snorted, "Not without measures that are probably too strong for you or your agents to stomach."
Charles gave him a long look, and then simply tapped the side of his head.
"I can read minds," he said.
A full memory of the night came back. Erik had been so absorbed in his family and what the future for them held that he'd forgotten about the man's voice in his head.
"Right," Erik said, "Find anything interesting while you were poking around in mine?"
"I wouldn't call it poking," said Charles, "I try not to intrude unless it was necessary."
"And earlier today was necessary?" Erik asked.
"Yes, I believe it was," Charles said.
There was a pause. Erik wanted to press further: he didn't want anyone inside of his head. However, Charles had been the one who alerted him that his family was watching. No matter how scarring it had been for them to watch Erik nearly beat someone to death, he knew that it would have been worse for the man to actually die.
Not that he was going to thank Charles for it.
"Have you ever…met anyone else like you or I?" Charles asked.
Erik turned so he could face him fully. As much as he didn't feel like talking to the man beside him, he was curious.
"No," he said, "I thought I was the only one. I didn't know about Schmidt, or Shaw."
He shook his head.
"You?" asked Erik.
"My sister," Charles said, "Adopted. She can change her appearance at will. She's a little older than your daughter. You'll be meeting her when we get back to the headquarters."
Smiling, Charles nodded his head.
"It might be good for your daughter to talk to someone around her age who's like her," said Charles, "It certainly helped me."
Erik laughed, the sound bitter.
"I didn't know that she could do that until tonight," he said.
Charles looked down.
"I am sorry that we didn't get there sooner," he said.
Erik just continued to look down. He wasn't sure if he had the words to express his feeling on the subject without fists. While he doubted that the SWAT team could have done much against the powers that Shaw had displayed that night, he hadn't wanted his family involved. He hadn't wanted them to know about his world. Now he'd lost them.
He shook his head again.
"You don't strike me as a government man," said Erik, looking over at him, "Where are you from?"
"Oxford," said Charles, laughing softly.
"And how did you get involved?" said Erik.
Charles didn't answer directly. Instead, he leaned over on the edge of the balcony. He looked tired again, but his eyes softened slightly the more he looked. Curious, Erik looked over the side. He saw the forms of two people walking outside the hotel, but they had just gone back in. He thought that he heard the click of heels on the sidewalk.
"Agents Levine and MacTaggert," Charles said, "That's an explanation in and of itself. You'll find that Agent MacTaggert is a little less reserved than Agent Levine. She's the one who cottoned onto Shaw's trail in the first place. She came to me with some questions about genetics, having seen Miss Frost's abilities, but found a telepath willing to work with her instead. Something of a bonus I think."
He grinned.
"I was then given some security clearances and shipped off to Las Vegas," Charles said, "Not for long though. We thought that he was going to stay there for a little longer, but we had to divert when-"
"When he decided to try to kill my family," Erik finished.
There was a silence.
"You don't want to have to deal with us, do you?" Charles asked.
Erik gave him a sharp look. Charles put his hands up.
"No, I'm not reading your mind," he said, "Just what I know about you. I told you that I knew what Shaw had done to you: it was in the forefront of your mind. I can't imagine what it would be like to have to see him now when you have a family."
Erik narrowed his eyes.
"Then you understand why I have to go," he said.
"Not really," Charles said, "There is such a thing as safety in numbers. Shaw has some friends."
He shrugged.
"Perhaps it's time that you get some too," he said.
Detaching himself from the railing Charles walked back inside. Erik watched him until he left before turning his eyes back to the city.
A/N: Hey everyone, I'm back! I have to warn about patchy internet again, sorry about this, but I'll try to keep all of my updates on their usual schedule.