He had to make it, he just had to reach the door. He would be safe there, at least that's what he hoped. There was no guarantee though. Actually, he knew for a fact that he wasn't welcome in this house, but where else could he go?

He was out of options. The ones he would have trusted in a situation like this, were all dead now...because of that little snitch. Spike! Oh how this snake would suffer if they would ever meet again! This mutant had joined the Brotherhood four months ago. A young man full of hate and vengeful thoughts because the humans had apparently experimented on him. A good actor, he had to grant him that. The perfect spy. Playing the mole for the military. No wonder that they knew about the Brotherhoods attack on their 'research' facility. They had been well prepared. Not much metal around for Magneto to protect his army. It had been gruesome...the ones who weren't able to flee in time had been mercilessly slaughtered. Erik barely escaped being killed himself. Some of the bullets were still inside him, he felt them but couldn't get them out. They weren't made out of metal but that made no difference in terms of efficiency. Those wretched bullets hurt as much as the conventional ones. Especially the wound on his hip seemed to be on fire. And since he first had to make sure that he'd lost his pursuers before he came to this place, the wounds had been untreated for a long time. Not to mention the significant amount of blood he had lost by now. He couldn't deny that the house in front of him was his last hope. If the owner would refuse to help him, he would most certainly die.

How unspectacular. This could not be Magnetos death. Not because of some stupid little mutant spy, who...did he mention that already?...would suffer immensely if they ever met again. But first things first, right? He had to make it to that door. His arms and legs felt like lead. With every step more blood trickled down his leg and his right side exploded with searing pain. The gravel path that lead to the house appeared to be endless. His skin felt so hot and sweat was dripping down his brows. Though the sun was shining, Erik doubted that it was her fault that he was sweating so much. Suddenly everything around him had a purple hue and looked surreal, so he closed his eyes in order to get rid of this strange vision. To close his eyes felt so good, so right, he was so tired...he needed to sleep, just for a short while...

Erik noticed in the nick of time that he was swaying, almost falling over so he snapped his eyes open and took a deep breath. He couldn't fall asleep, not for a second. He had to go on, the door was so close, just a few more steps. He could do it! Piece of cake, right?

After what felt like an eternity, Erik reached the door and with the last strength he could muster he knocked at the door. He sighed. Did he just knock? Was he trying to be polite while blood was pooling around his feet? Why didn't he bend the metal inside the lock and simply entered? After all, time was of essence here. Deep down Erik knew that he couldn't do that, not even now. He had no right to be here, no right to ask the owner of this mansion for help. But he was the only person he could turn to under these circumstances. The police and the military were looking for him, so a hospital was out of the question. People would recognize him, even without the cape and the helmet. Since the whole thing with the Sentinels and the president two years ago, he and his Brotherhood had been...well, let's just say that the media had no shortage of videos and pictures of Magneto. He was a fugitive and with all his allies dead, he had no one to help him, nowhere to go. So yes, he was at the mercy of the owner of this house and intruding wouldn't be such a glorious idea. Erik had to lean heavy against the doorframe to prevent himself from falling. He hung his head and watched how droplets of sweat trickled from his face to the floor, mixing with the blood that was already forming a puddle between his feet. He smiled, it looked beautiful, especially with the purple hue around it. Purple? Oh no, not again! He had to stay awake!

Movement in the metal lock caught his attention, the door swung open and Erik looked up. The man in front of him had a purple halo and Erik would have laughed at the sight, if the reason why his world was so strangely coloured hadn't been such a grave one.

"You?! What the hell are you doing here?!" Hank growled, "You have the nerve to come here! After what you did...", Hanks facial expression changed from angry to sad as he finished the sentence, "...to him." Only now did Hank register the blood soaked clothes of his opponent and the red puddle on the floor that was slowly getting bigger. "Ehm...you don't look so good." Hank stared at him in shock and if Erik would have had enough strength left in him he would have rolled his eyes. He tried to say something like: -I got shot...that's my blood on the floor by the way...so would you help me please, I'm dying here. - But the only sound that left his lips was a pathetic wheezing.

"Whoa, whoa...okay, don't die on our doorstep please." Hank helped him inside the house and shouted: "I need some help here!" Much to Erik's surprise, help came. The building wasn't empty and deserted, on the contrary. The corridors were full of young people, mutants...was this a school again? Erik saw a woman in an white coat running towards him and the purple hue in his vision turned slowly into black.

Beeping, constant beeping. A room covered in white tiles. He was lying on a bed. There were tubes and wires attached to him. Monitors around him, beeping always beeping...was that his heart? So he was alive then? Good. Erik fell asleep again. For a long time he drifted in and out of consciousness. He neither knew what time it was, nor what day and he didn't care. This place was safe and knowing that, he allowed himself to give in to the drugs that were coursing through his veins. Sometimes, when he opened his eyes there was someone in a white coat standing next to his bed checking on him, asking questions, though he couldn't recall if he answered them. And one time there was Hank, looking at him, worried but somehow Erik knew that it wasn't because of him. He was worried about something or someone else.

Another time Erik opened his eyes, it was dark. Only the faint glow of the machines that surrounded him illuminated the room. He felt like he was being watched and became aware of a figure sitting in the left corner of the chamber, staring at him, unmoving. Erik turned his head to stare back, to show that he knew that someone was there. Unfortunately he couldn't keep it up for long and fell asleep. It was still dark when he regained consciousness again. There were hushed voices. Hank was arguing with someone else and even though they both obviously tried to be as silent as possible, they didn't quite succeed. Erik could hear everything and noticed that Hank sounded tired and drained: "You shouldn't be here, please, it's not good for you."

"You always know what's good for me, don't you...Well, fuck you Hank."

Charles? Was that Charles? If it was him, he sounded different, somehow off...

"Have you been drinking?...Where did you find that bottle? Give it to me." Hank seemed to have succeeded in taking the bottle away from Charles, because there was a frustrated growl followed by: "Give it back! It's my life. It's my choice. I can get drunk if I want to."

"Yes, once might be okay. But we both know that's not enough for you. You won't stop after one glass or even one bottle. I don't want to lose you again. Please go back to sleep, it's the middle of the night. "

Charles was drunk? That was probably the reason why his voice sounded so raw and unsteady.

"So what? I can stay up as long as I choose to. I'm not a child, Hank. I'm gonna stay here."

"Don't you see it?" Hank started to lose his patience, "He has been here for less than 24 hours and you're already back on your old self-destructive path. Don't throw the last year away, Charles, I beg you."

"Fuck off, Hank!"

Erik heard Hank huff in frustration and noticed that he left the room without another word.

Listening to the argument of the two men had drained Erik more than he liked to admit and he was already falling asleep again when he heard a sob from across the room. Although it confused and worried him immensely, his attempt to stay awake a bit longer and inquire the matter failed.

The room was flooded with white neon light once more. Erik was still drifting in and out of consciousness but he managed to stay awake a bit longer in between. The doctor or nurse or whatever she was, came again. She asked him how he felt and told him that they had to cut two bullets out of him. One had been in his left shoulder and the other one in his right side just above the hip. The latter bullet hadn't been very deep inside but unfortunately the wound had gotten infected. They had it under control now. With the right medication and a lot of rest he would be fine.

"Thank you", Erik said and really meant it. Without the help of this woman and her staff...friends...whatever they were...he would have most certainly died.

Another time Erik opened his eyes, Hank stood at the bedside again, looking at him in a way Erik couldn't interpret. "What?", he asked, unsure what else to do.

"Oh, you can talk now. Good. When will you leave?"

"I'm sorry for coming here, but I had no choice. I would've avoided it but... Look, I know I'm not welcome, as soon as I can walk, I'll vanish."

"Yeah, you're really good at that...vanishing." Hank said, anger clearly visible on his face.

"What do you want, Hank?" Erik asked irritated.

"Oh, what I want is to punch you in the face as hard as I can but I guess that won't change the past."

Erik frowned. "What are you on about?"

"You destroyed him. For ten years he was a wreck, then the Trask-thing happened and I thought he would get better, he even got off the drugs but then...you dropped parts of a Stadium on him and vanished again. After that...he was even worse. You can't imagine what he did to himself." Hank took a deep breath to calm himself. He felt tears welling up but he wouldn't cry in front of Erik. "One year was worse than those ten years after Cuba. I pulled him out of it... somehow.. and we built up the school together but now...now you are here. You haven't even talked to him and he's already falling again."

"Well, what do you want me to do then? You say I have to leave but you also blame me for always leaving..."

Erik tried to hide his emotions, tried to keep his facial expression as neutral as possible. To hear that Charles was in such a bad shape...and that maybe..maybe he was to blame for that...

He had noticed that Charles had changed when he'd met him in the Pentagon and during their fight on the plane he'd caught a glimpse of the deep sorrow that the telepath was carrying around. Losing the ability to walk was hard and to meet the person again who was responsible for that wasn't easy as well. What had happened back in Cuba was entirely Eriks fault. It had been an accident, he had made a wrong decision. He should have simply stopped the bullets instead of deflecting them. It didn't matter though, he couldn't turn back time and change it. So yes, Cuba was his fault but he wouldn't take the blame for what happened to Charles after the Trask-Mission or for whatever was going on now. That was ridiculous. Charles was a grown man and if he couldn't pull himself together...well...how was that Eriks fault?

This was confusing and frankly too much for his tired mind. He realized that he would fall asleep soon, his eyelids were getting heavy again.

"You should stay this time...for once."

"What?" Erik was wide awake now, obviously confused.

"Don't get me wrong", Hank explained, "I wanna throw you out of the mansion right now...but maybe it would help Charles if you'd stay. So for his sake I ask you to stay, take time to recover, talk to him. Even if he shouts at you that you should leave..stay. He doesn't mean half the things he says when he's...Look, I can't go through this again...watching him destroy himself, unable to ease his pain, to make it stop...Maybe it's a bad idea if you stay Erik, maybe not...I don't know. What I know is that I have no strength left. So, please, help me with Charles. He can't fall again."

This was not what Erik expected. Hank asked him to stay? To help Charles? The thought made him nervous. He wasn't really experienced with helping people. What could he do that Hank hadn't already tried? But somehow he felt that he had to give it a shot, he was after all responsible for Charles' paralysed legs. And if that was the root of the problem...

Erik sighed: "Alright. I'll stay. But I can't promise anything."

The relief in Hanks eyes was hard to miss. "Thank you", he mumbled and then left the room. Erik took a deep breath and pondered about what Hank had said but not for long. Fatigue caught up with him eventually.

(Hi! Hope you liked it so far. English is not my native language and I am sorry for the mistakes I most likely made when I wrote this story) ;)