The war starts, as war tend to do, with a bullet.

My bullet, lancing through his spine, leaving him bereft and bleeding on the sand as missiles collapse around us.

"You did this." he says. "You did this." I wish I could take it as an accusation, a spindle of angry blame with no reason, but I look into his eyes, and I know. Curled with hatred, and betrayal, but most of all grief.

I hold him in my arms, feels his lanky legs release their last spasm of movement.

He will never walk again, this I know.

More than anything, I want to hold him, kiss his brow, and swear never to hurt him again.

But it's a lie, don't you see?

Overriding everything else is my desire to craft a world where mutants can live free, and proud.

So I release him, try to gently let his head fall back onto the beach, and take my kindred away into the sky.

I keep the bullet as a reminder. It's shattered, ruined beyond repair. I spin it idly in the air, watching the rotations with clinical detachment.

My brotherhood sleeps soundly in the tucked away base we liberated.

I let the bullet fall to the ground, then bring it up, spinning once more.

The helmet lies dormant beside me.

I want to hear his thoughts - his torment, his regret, his anger. I want them all to blanket me, so I can feel anything but empty, terrible anguish.

He doesn't know the depths of my past. He has only a glimmer of the horror I lived through.

He will never understand why I can never again allow humans to control me.

The bullet spins upward, and I inch it ever closer towards my head.

Metal is metal; with my power, I can rocket the remnant fast enough to kill me in the blink of an eye.

I am so close to release. So close to letting these damned memories fade into everlasting darkness.

ERIK!

His voice, a siren in my head. His voice, my salvation. His voice.

I can hear you from halfway round the world, you know. he says, and is that a conversational tone I hear?

I give voice to my thoughts, instead of thinking them. I need to hear the gravel. I need to hear the pain.

"Charles," I whisper. "I was hoping you'd hear me."

You're a bloody fool. I don't blame you for anything.

"How I wish that were true," I reply. Hot tears burn their way down my cheeks. "I crippled you. I deflected the bullet, and held you -"

Stop it. he interrupts me. I said exactly the wrong thing. I made you angry. I'm sorry.

"How can you be so calm?" I yell. I jump to my feet, and stride forward in the room, barking to empty air. "Don't you dare apologize to me! I'm sorry. So very sorry. But I couldn't - I had to -" words vanish, and I'm left blinking away salty moisture.

My love. he says calmly. Oh, my love. I know. I couldn't stop you. You will not be swayed in your quest. I understand that now. But I will always try to stop you.

I can't stomach this anymore. Spasms wrack me, and I fall to my knees, dry heaving on the floor.

"I - " I pant. "I want you to stop me. I don't want to be your enemy. Join me. Please. You know that we -"

I believe in the better angels of human nature, he says, with a tinge of regret. No matter how much how I -

No. I beg him. Enough. I can't listen to anymore - I can't -

I can't -

I hunch over, my hands falling akimbo on the carpet.

The bullet - the cursed bullet -

Panic, sheer panic coursing through me -

Spiraling, I see him falling onto the sand, his bellow of pain -

I see him, gently guiding me towards moving the satellite -

I see him -

I see -

The bullet -

Don't do this, he interjects desperately. Don't do this - I need you - you have so much to offer the world, so much to try and keep your brethren safe -

With a cry of rage, I grab the bullet in my palm and fling it across the room.

I crawl, shivering into bed, and burrow into the sheets.

I wrap my hands around myself, but it's a poor substitute for a hug.

"Charles." I murmur. His name is a prayer on my lips. "I'm safe now. I didn't -"

The only sound in my head is restless breathing - if I can close my eyes, I can almost picture him sweaty and nervous. The image doesn't comfort me.

Damn you! he yells. You came so close - you -

"If you don't mind," I say gently. "I'm very tired now, and I need to sleep."

A frustrated huff, and he answers, Erik, I know where you are. I found Raven through Cerebro and -

I exhale, and I imagine the air reverberating throughout the room, a melancholy sigh.

"What are you waiting for you, then?" I ask him. "We can go back to being enemies tomorrow, but tonight -"

The door gently floats open.

He guides his wheelchair into the room, without pushing the handles.

"Hank made it for me." he says softly.

"You were there the whole time -"

" No," he interrupts swiftly. "I just landed - once you became so distressed - I told them to hurry."

"Why would you -"

"You fool." he says, tender, almost reverent. "You bloody fool." He comes to rest in front of my bed, and tries to stroke my cheek, but can't quite reach me.

I sit up, and before I'm even aware of moving, my lips are gently brushing against his.

I'm shaking the whole way through, and he holds me, rubbing my back in slow, languid motions.

"There, there." he says, as the sobs rip through my body. "There, there."

"Tomorrow," I whisper. "Or the day after, I'm Magneto. But tonight, I just want to be Erik, and I just want to hold you."

I feel his nod against my shoulder, and my hands grasp his arms, in a strong, sure motion.

"I've always loved you, Charles." I whisper brokenly. "Always."

His eyes glimmer, and he grazes my forehead with his lips, soft and pliant.

"Help me into bed?" he asks. "I would do it myself, but -" his eyebrow quirks, encompassing the vomit on the floor, the discarded bullet fragment.

With a silent nod, I take a firm grip on his arms, and guide him onto the bed.

He nestles against my chest with a relieved sigh, and kisses me, his tongue gentle and probing against my mouth. My lips create a tight suction against his mouth, and I arch against his hips, forgetting myself.

I'm starving for his touch.

He glances down at my half-hard erection with a deep sadness.

"I can't really -"

I will not let myself sink into regret, and I quiet his words with a brush of my index finger on his mouth. His lips part slightly, and his tongue grazes the digit. His eyes are dark with need.

"Tomorrow," I swear. "Tomorrow, my friend."

I ease forward, and finally am close enough so that we are flesh to flesh.

I cradle him in my hands, and rest my hands on the lower slope of his back. I can feel the scar of the bullet underneath my fingers, and guide my hands a little higher.

His eyes never leave my face. One hand rests on my hip, the other cupping my cheek. A lingering touch, burning to my core.

"Tomorrow," he replies. "Just go to sleep now."

Sudden exhaustion strikes, and I am desperate to remain awake for just a few minutes longer.

"Even if you don't -" I begin. "Please -"

His lips tip upward in a smirk, and he silences me with a gentle kiss.

"I love you." he says, deep and sincere. "Never doubt that."

When I wake up the next morning, he's gone.

I'm not surprised, but still the loss hits me like lightning. I get up and shower. I run the water scalding hot, and let it wash over me until it runs. Anything to delay the inevitable.

I'm walking around the room, toweling my hair dry, when I realize what else is missing.

The bullet.

He took the bullet.

I stand naked in the room, and scan the room frantically once more.

You don't need this reminder anymore. I hear his voice, as though from a distant tunnel.

I'll keep it for you, until you're ready to come home.

"I -"

You always have a home with me, Erik. Always.

It's just enough. I nod brusquely, and dress. I spy the helmet, resting on my nightstand.

I grip it in my arms, hefting the reassuring metal weight.

I know I do, Charles. I think. Thank you for everything.

I hoist the helmet over my head, and step out into the hallway.

Goodbye.

I go to meet my brotherhood.

Magneto once more.