AN: As I thought they parted quite negatively, although understandably so, I decided to make a kiss and make up story for Erik and Mystique.
Scars and Battle Wounds
It had been some months since he had last encountered mutants, at least as far as he knew. Erik wanted to reinstate the Brotherhood but it wasn't working so far. He liked working alone, so other than having more manpower, it suited him fine. Being alone did help with mobility and invisibility. Slowly people's memories of him began to fade; Erik didn't know whether to be grateful or angry about it. He had done his share of work since then, so rightly they should not forget Magneto.
He wondered if others had forgotten him. Mystique… Charles… Damn Charles still guarded his helmet like it was the Holy Grail. He had ventured into the vicinity of Charles' school once or twice, to see if he could retrieve it, but Charles had interfered with those plans. He kept on inviting him to join their school as a teacher. Erik was no teacher! He was a leader, he was meant to lead! Although he was quite without a following at the moment….
Today's mission was a weapons factory. The factory floor produced ordinary guns and rifles but in the labs beside the director's office, new weapons were designed. Commissioned to take out mutants. Erik wanted to burn it to the ground and all its research with it. As he entered the bus that would take him quite close to the site, he remembered…
Charles' sister, though not actually so. A troubled young woman who clearly could not accept her true self. She and Hank were obsessed with their appearance. Erik had walked in on their experimentations and conversations about it. Finally, he decided to interfere: "If I were you, I wouldn't change a thing." They looked startled and caught. He could see her hesitate, beginning to wonder, questioning Hank's solution. Good, very good.
Hank had apparently told her that she only looked good as the cute blond—ouch, that must have hurt! He, on the other hand, would never do such a thing. Their difference from humans made them unique, better than them! Why hide to protect those inferior minds? For the sake of these inferior beings? Erik really did not understand. He had scolded Raven, told her that the energy it cost her to keep up the cover, the fake skin, could get her killed. Being her true self, in contrast, could save her life. She had pondered over his remarks.
And, then… A surprise, Raven in his bed! Lovely, although quite unexpected. He brushed her off, but she wouldn't have it. Fine. She pretended to be older… but he did not like pretense. He hesitated. She was quite appealing. Would he be able to let her come out and play? Could it be his gift to her? And perhaps, create a rift between her and Hank? Pissing him off—the one who was forever hiding and had even enticed Charles into doing so!—had surely made bedding her even more appealing…
"I prefer the real Raven!" She showed her true colors, very self-conscious and shy, so very unnecessary. Those horrible feelings were keeping her down; she should be proud and so he told her: "Have you ever looked at a tiger and thought you ought to cover it up?" It was time for her to be free. Untamed.
He had whispered in her ear that she deserved to be loved for herself, her real identity. That she shouldn't hide and was gorgeous just as she was. The blond Raven would have blushed, but the real Raven couldn't blush. Her scaly skin was less cold than he had expected and so much softer too. He had tenderly sought for her nipples but there weren't any. Her marvelous body was a source of wonderment for him. She did not look like the dreaded humans… She was far superior.
Alas, trouble had been brewing. The break with Charles and the X-men. His incarceration. His attempt to kill her… Mystique would be forever out of his grasp. Erik sighed. He did miss her. She had missed… missed his artery although she could have killed him. She took his helmet though…
And Charles… he had let him leave, without said helmet, but still…. It seemed that at least the siblings did not want his head, his death…
It was time to leave the bus. Erik jumped off, and walked to the factory with a spring in his step. How he loved making the world a safer place!
The director loved his new secretary. She was so beautiful, so different from his wife at home. She was forward! Which he secretly liked… He had already shown her the plans for the new weapons. She was smart and so interested in them! He could boast to her all day long, and she would listen!
Today he was even luckier… She had come in in a new dress, a wide one, and she had whispered in his ear that she was not wearing underwear… A promise for later…
A promise that was now about to come true… She climbed on his lap and sat there, whispering sweetness into his ears. He heard some rumbling downstairs, but she told him to ignore it… The floor manager would sort out whatever trouble it was…
Erik had bound the factory workers together with a thin metal thread. "I am not here to harm you!" he boomed. "Only to protect my, our existence…." Steve, the floor manager, tried to engage him in a fight, but before he could even reach Magneto, he flew into the wall tossed by his very own belt.
"My purpose here, today, is to show the true nature of your work. The evilness that's going on behind the scenes… Evil that I hope you, good people…" he sneered, "wouldn't want to participate in…"
"Whatever can you mean?" a bold old man spoke up.
"Isn't he the one that killed the president…?" someone whispered. "And tried to kill the new one too?"
"I think so…. We're all going to die!" another man's whisper turned into a shriek.
Erik looked at them with disdain. "I'm not accustomed to killing foot soldiers," he said, "Although I could be tempted…"
With a few flicks of his hand he clustered all the guns on the floor together into one big ball. He planted it firmly into the middle of the room. "A new statue to remember this memorable day! They day your evil plans are thwarted!"
Leaving everyone in shock, Erik leapt up the stairs. It was the lab personnel he wanted, the director, not some poor factory workers…
"I really should have a look.." the director protested. "That was an awful lot of noise…"
"You'll do no such thing." His secretary stated sternly. "I have other plans for you…" She unbuttoned his shirt and placed one hand on his torso, about to stroke his generous amount of chest hair when the door opened with a bang!
"You are the very man I want to see!" a voice spoke to him. The director looked at the strange man standing in his office wearing a shawl around his neck and a cape 'round his shoulders.
His secretary twisted her head and gazed at the mysterious guest as well. She gasped as she recognized him. "Erik?"
"Mystique?" Erik was amazed!
"You two know each other…? What is this? A plot, a robbery?"
"Oh, no , far more interesting…." her sweet voice stated. In a few mere seconds, her hand turned blue, and so did her entire body. The director shouted as loud as he could and tried to wriggle out of her grasp. Mystique put her hand over his mouth as she climbed off him.
"Looks like two great minds think alike…" Erik quipped as he eyed his former lover.
"Of all the weapons factories in all the world…" she chuckled.
About half an hour later, they had killed the lab assistants and burned the lab down . Mystique had been there a few weeks and knew all relevant safety combinations and hidden drawers. They read and trashed the most important files and research before they let the licking flames do their work. The lab assistants were bolted down to the floor underneath their metal tables. Their agonizing death cries didn't bother Erik, although it he reminded him of the camps; Mystique flinched a few times as she saw their flesh being devoured but she knew they deserved every bit of it.
The both of them returned to the director's adjoining office where they watched the flames and found him completely horrified and still firmly encased in in his chair.
"Are you going to… to kill me too?" he asked with a trembling voice, peeing his pants.
"Would you like the honor?" Erik asked her.
"He is a pig, but no, I think we need witnesses to spread the tale, don't you?"
"We've got a whole room full of witnesses downstairs…?" he replied.
"There's no need," she responded. "But let's take his car, it's such a beauty…"
They grinned as they left the building, and only after they'd left the site, Erik released the metal wire that had tied the workers down. The director needed special help to get out of his particular predicament.
"So this is where you've been staying?" Mystique looked around. It was a dull and dreary room. Only the most basic necessities present.
"For now. I tend to move around a lot."
"I see you have taken a shine to wearing shawls…" she continued. "Isn't it far too hot for that?"
"Turtlenecks are no longer the fashion these days. I don't want to stand out…"
"I thought that's precisely what you wanted…" Her eyes darkened. "Let's have a look then…" She took the shawl of his neck and saw a red scar where the bullet had grazed his skin.
"Ah, that's why," Mystique whistled through her teeth.
"Yes, exactly." He gritted his teeth. "Every day I'm reminded of you when I see myself in the mirror."
"Good! It can serve as a reminder never to cross me again…" she said, not in the least upset.
"It has never fully healed. For some reason, it stays horribly red…"
"I'm not apologizing...! You know full well that you deserved it!" She did not want to deal with his self-pity. He had tried to kill her!
"Yes, yes, I do… Looking at it only increases my memories…. Even though I want to bury them." He sounded sad and lonely. Pity did creep into Mystique's heart. Pity and longing…
She softly stroked his ugly, red scar. "Does it still hurt?" she whispered.
"When I touch it, yes… but your touch is soft and cool… Almost healing…" His eyes shone with delight and a spark of hope.
She quickly stopped. "You can stop your flirting now, Erik! It's not funny."
"It's not meant to be!" His eyes were suddenly blazing. "You came with me just now; what am I supposed to think?"
Mystique remained silent. His temper, yes, that was one of his problems… Soon, however, his attitude deflated. "Will you stay? Why did you come?"
"I guess I wanted to catch up… See how you are doing…"
"I'm fine. I'm doing fine."
"I'm glad. So am I. But, working alone… One can get a bit lonely…. I've missed them too, you know, all of them…"
Erik grumbled. "I haven't! Not one bit! These interfering bastards…. You, however…"
She smiled. He always had to be strong. Be seen to be strong. Not unlike her brother. "I've missed you too… though I prefer to be with someone who doesn't attempt to murder me…"
"I'm sorry. Mystique, I am so, so sorry…! I wish I…" He stammered, which was a tiny bit adorable. "I wish I could turn the clock back…" Erik sounded like he had lost. Like he was lost. She let him wait for another minute, holding all the cards, before she replied.
"I know. I know…" her voice was soothing and she ventured closer once more. "How about that time when we first…? Would you like to return to that?" Her eyes glinted and he knew he had been reprieved, at least for now…
The morning after their first union in the flesh, she had confided in him. He was her first. Not ever, but of her own kin…in her own skin. He had suspected as much. At one time, a former boyfriend had seen her in her blue form… in her sleep. He had almost outed them to the world, and Charles had to step in to solve the problem. Since then, she hadn't had any boyfriends…. Hank's solution seemed the only way to ever have a normal life… He had managed to convince her that a normal life was not for her, not for him.
"So I suppose were even now?" Erik grinned as he looked at Mystique lying on his chest with her head resting on her hands. They had just partaken in an pleasurable, physical, and entertaining activity, and she gazed at his face, his eyes, his scar. She gently touched it again.
"Yes, yes, I think we are… My wound has healed better, although my muscle still twitches sometimes…"
"I'm sorry. I thought it was needed…. For the good of all!" He sounded desperate in defending his opinion and stupid decision.
"From now on," she spoke sternly, even commandingly, as she stared into his darkened eyes, "for the good of me comes first! Then you, then all… which I take it applies only to mutants?"
Erik swallowed. She did not take his nonsense. Not anymore! He rasped his throat. "Okay, sure, I… I can do that…"
"Are you quite sure? Putting me first? I'd have to see it to believe it!" She rolled of him and immediately broached another subject. "You shouldn't wear that scarf though, you should show it to the world. The scar, I mean…"
Erik rose angrily. "No, I will not! I don't want people to see that! They might think I am…."
"Weak? Not entirely invincible? Capable of dying?" She sneered, "those things are true, you know!"
"I don't want to be perceived as weak! I want them cowering in the corner, before my eyes…" Erik shouted. A flash of memory hindered him: himself as a boy cowering in a corner in front of Shaw…
Mystique noticed the dark glimpse on his face. "When they perceive you as more vulnerable, or less invincible, they will become over-confident, and once they are over-confident, they will make mistakes…" she explained to him.
Erik calmed down. He took a deep breath. "You're right… You are…" He smiled again. "You see, that's why we should work together again! You are quite the strategist! Cool and conniving."
Mystique pretended to pout. "Just a strategist…?"
He laughed heartily. "Also a great lover… Of course! Surely, you know that?"
"Oh, yes, I do." She smiled. Perhaps he did deserve a second chance?