Okay, so listen. Sometimes, Canucklehead Cowgirl and I get caught up in little side universes and "what if" scenarios and this was kind of the confluence of the Scott-gets-rescued-by-Logan universe being written at the same time as the K-works-for-Magneto story and we just started talking and then... this... happened. We were just discussing how Scott really could have latched onto whoever saved him from the desperate situation he was in at the Home for Foundlings. It happened to be Charles in the comics, but we tried with Logan and it worked so well we thought... what if it was someone a little more on the evil scale of things...

Prologue

Scott Summers had no idea where he was going. All he knew was that he wasn't going back to the Home for Foundlings — so he had to keep running, to outpace the home workers coming after him.

He had no idea how things had gone so wrong so fast. As far as he'd been aware, he was just having a normal day — sans a massive headache, of course. But he was getting those more and more lately, to the point where even the red glasses that had helped him up until that point didn't seem to be making much of a dent.

His best friend, Nate, had offered a few solutions and had seemed concerned when the headache wasn't letting up, but eventually, he must have gone to get Dr. Pearson, because about halfway through the day, Scott found himself headed down to the nurse's office.

And… past the nurse's office.

At the time, he hadn't paid much attention to where they were going when his head felt like it was going to split open, but the alarm bells had started to go off when Scott realized they'd been walking far longer than a few hallways.

He had looked up just in time to see a different medical lab, this one much more sinister-looking. Although Scott was sure he'd never seen it before, he almost automatically panicked, a reaction that he simply couldn't stop.

Dr. Pearson had completely ignored him, almost dragging him over to a table where he clearly meant to examine Scott. But Scott saw the leather straps and twisted as hard as he could, doing everything in his power to get away…

He hadn't been wearing the glasses — they were in his pocket because he'd been pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes to try to find some relief. So there was nothing in the way when a sharp kzapt sound pierced the air — and the next thing Scott knew, he was staring at Dr. Pearson's unmoving body, sprawled out in the wreckage of a cart of medical supplies.

Scott didn't know how long he stood there, completely shocked and terrified. He had no idea what had happened, and he didn't know if it would happen again… All he knew was that it felt like the headache had left through his eyes... and apparently hit Dr. Pearson with … something.

He shoved his glasses back on and swallowed, trying to get a hold of himself. There had to be an exit somewhere, right?

When Dr. Pearson started to groan, Scott picked up the pace — until he found a door and flung himself through it.

He'd heard Dr. Pearson shout to stop him, but Scott hadn't looked back. He'd heard footsteps running after him, but he just kept running — and he wasn't going to stop until he either outran the people after him or he collapsed.

It was pure chance that had brought Erik to this small town. Normally, there would be no reason for him to waste his time, but with Charles building up a school, of all things, he found himself considering his own options.

Charles was right, of course — there was an entire generation of mutants out there simply waiting for guidance. A generation of powerful mutants that would define the future. And Erik, as much as he respected Charles, couldn't abide the thought that this new generation would be taught to hide its gifts, to operate in some false hope that they would ever coexist with humanity.

Clearly, then, it was time that Erik turned his own attention to that same rising generation. The question then became where he would house them — and how he would find them.

It was in considering the first question that Erik found himself in the middle of America. After all, the low population density and large fields might lend themselves to a smaller, more secretive operation — at least until Erik felt that his own students were properly trained and prepared to reveal themselves to the world.

There was the local population to consider as well. It was an interesting question, whether to stay close to a town full of ignorant humans. On the one hand, it would only serve to further his point — a nearby illustration of the immense backwardness of humanity. And on the other, if he were to consider bringing students here, he would not want to lose any until they were ready to fight.

But after much consideration, Erik felt, his interests would be better served elsewhere. If he ultimately decided that he wanted his own, he was honestly considering finding someplace closer to Charles' little endeavor rather than this backwards little town. At least that way he could keep an eye on things. Erik knew that Charles had a way of finding exactly who he meant to find — but somehow, Erik doubted that Charles would be able to keep so many young minds trapped in his delusion should they be given another option.

Yes, this was the way to go. And that meant that he was, indeed, wasting his time looking here.

He was nearly to the outskirts of town when he heard the unmistakable sound of a struggle and, curious, slipped toward the noise. He was just in time to see an unnaturally large man pinning down a boy, about fourteen judging by his size, to tie his hands.

At first, it was the size of the man himself that made Erik pause. There was every possibility that this was a mutant — he seemed unnaturally strong as well. Erik watched with a quiet frown as the man hefted the boy over his shoulder with ease, though the boy struggled to get loose, nearly desperate and pleading, "Let me go!"

And then, only for a second, Erik saw a flash of red in the boy's eyes. Not just a reflection of his glasses, either — those were askew on his face. There was a true glow there.

Curious, Erik decided to follow the pair of them in silence. Clearly, there was something more to this story, and he was interested to see what it was.

The man carried the boy all the way to what looked to be an orphanage, to Erik's estimation, though he had to frown at the layout. It was clearly designed to prevent escapes — not to cater to the needs of young people. And the atmosphere of fear here was almost distressingly familiar.

Erik kept his distance, allowing the man to take the young boy inside, before he slipped into the facility, the locked gate a formality to him and the bolted doors even moreso. But when he got inside, he was surprised to find that he couldn't find the boy and his captor.

For a moment, Erik frowned. He had been just behind the two of them, so there was no reason there should be no trace of them in the halls of this place.

Still, when he rested his hand on the wall, frowning to himself — he sensed the latch to the hidden door there, and his eyes narrowed further. A captive boy with possible mutant powers, a hidden room… Erik did not like the implications.

The bolts and locking mechanisms were nothing to Erik as he unlocked the hidden door and forced it open, striding forward with a growing anger when he could hear the young man pleading once more — "Please, let me go" — though Erik knew that there would be no escape for the young man. Not without outside interference.

When Erik found the main room, he was even more incensed to find a tall man in a long coat standing beside an examination table. The young man was strapped down at the hands and feet as well as across his chest, and it was clear that he was terrified by the tear streaks down his face and the fact that he was nearly hyperventilating.

"Enough," Erik breathed out, putting out a hand to stop this before it could go any further.

In an instant, much of the lab equipment, including a table, wound its way around the doctor and pinned him to the wall, away from the boy, though Erik had to frown when he saw that the man's eyes were the same red he had seen in the boy when he was kidnapped.

A mutant turning against his own. Erik had seen the same story countless times before, and he had no patience for it. Traitors had no place in the world that Erik would build.

Erik gave the man no chance to defend himself. No words would excuse his actions. Instead, Erik simply clenched his hand into a fist, forcing the metal holding the doctor into a point that pierced his heart and left him hanging there.

For a moment, Erik simply flared at the unmoving man before he turned his attention to the boy. With a flick of his wrist, Erik undid the buckles on the straps, and the young man sat up, almost unconsciously moving away from the doctor even in death.

Erik almost smiled. For all of Charles' lofty goals, he didn't see that this generation was already in danger of being lost. This boy was evidence — the humans around them would never give them peace. They knew only cruelty and violence.

"What is your name?" Erik asked, softening his tone. The terrified young man needed a kind word, and Erik knew it. He also knew that the boy was young and scared and perfectly suited to hear his own philosophy — a young mind of his own to shape before Charles had even started to recruit himself.

"Scott," the boy said, still a bit shaky as he got to his feet.

Erik nodded, allowing the boy to keep his distance for the moment. "I am truly sorry that you found yourself in this place, my young friend. Can you tell me — do you know of any other children subjected to this place?"

The young man frowned and shook his head. "I didn't even know it was here…" His frown deepened before he met Erik's gaze. "Do you think he took others down here?"

"I think he took you because of your gifts," Erik said, seeing no reason to lie to him. "Your eyes — have they always been so red?"

Scott self-consciously brought a hand up to his eyes but didn't touch them. "I… no," he said. He frowned. "What do you want?" he asked, clearly — and understandably — on the defense.

"For the moment, I would like to get you out of here," Erik said gently. "I take particular offense to people who would do this—" He gestured to the lab. "—to the rising generation."

Scott nodded quietly. "Yeah," he said, his gaze drifting to the table where he had been until then.

Erik smiled lightly before he put a hand on Scott's shoulder. "I believe that people like this should be stopped at all costs," he explained, even as he manipulated part of a tray of tools to flatten out and slide underneath their feet so that Erik could simply levitate out of there with him.

Scott was obviously surprised at the sudden flight, and he unconsciously held onto Erik's arm as they flew. But then, a sort of shocked, disbelieving smile crossed Scott's face, and he looked over the edge of the disc at the ground below as they left the Home for Foundlings behind.

Erik smirked to himself at the awe he saw in the boy's expression. "Yes, I am a mutant," he said. "Homo superior — and I suspect you are as well."

"I… what?"

Seeing he honest fear in Scott's expression, Erik sighed. "You must not believe everything you hear, young man. There is nothing wrong with being genetically gifted."

Scott frowned at that. "I thought…"

"Yes I know what the world says, Scott. But I know better — and you are gifted."

"Because of my eyes," Scott said, though he was still watching the passing ground.

"Yes," Erik said. "You see, humanity is scared of losing its place in the world. We are the next step in evolution, but rather than accepting the changing tides, humans do what they have always done." He gestured at Scott. "They kill, imprison, and torture those that they fear."

Scott finally looked up from the ground to frown at Erik. "There are other places like that?"

Erik nodded. "Many, I'm afraid." He rested his hand on Scott's shoulder once more as he met the young man's gaze — which was still tinged with a red glow. "I was also imprisoned. And I have vowed never to allow mutants to suffer as I suffered — not while I have the power to save them."

Scott nodded softly. "Thanks."

Erik simply smiled at that. "I wonder," he said, "if you would be interested in joining me. For all my power, I cannot yet save everyone."

"I…" Scott trailed off and then nodded. "I don't want anyone else to be in that position. It's wrong."

"Agreed," Erik said. He tipped his head as he studied Scott. "As you can see, I have the gift of manipulating metal in all its forms. What are your gifts?"

"I'm not sure," Scott admitted. "One minute, I had a headache and the next…" He shook his head and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "I think I hit him with something — but I don't know what."

Erik frowned as he thought it over. "I suppose time will tell," he said.

Scott glanced up at Erik and quickly shook his head. "I can try to do it again," he offered. "When we're on the ground, obviously…"

"Good," Erik said. "I want to know your potential — to help you reach your strengths in this fight." When the young man continued to frown, he tipped his head to catch his gaze. "You do have potential, young man."

"I just wish I knew what that was," Scott said, still frowning.

Erik nodded. "We will see."

Erik was hardly surprised by how ravenously Scott ate when they stopped on the shore — he remembered that feeling, and more so. But when they had reached the shore, Erik let Scott process everything that had happened for some time before he spoke.

"I had hoped," he said, "to provide sanctuary for mutants. Apart from the humans that would destroy them."

Scott frowned slightly. "A home for people who aren't wanted." He didn't look toward Erik, but his sort of dull tone revealed what he thought of that.

"More than that," Erik explained. "A sovereign nation of mutants — so that no government or organization has power there."

"That sounds… a little extreme, don't you think?" Scott asked.

"Not when you consider the blind eye or, worse, the complicity that the world's so-called leaders have turned to mutants," Erik said. "Believe me, Scott; this is why I need your help. The hatred and violence is pervasive, down to the very roots. I have seen it myself, on a grander scale than that home where I found you."

Scott frowned at that. "I didn't know… my dad was in the Air Force…"

Erik smirked lightly. "And instilled in you a love of flying, I take it?"

At that, Scott grinned. "Yeah. He'd take us up in his planes to see the city lights."

"One day, you should do the same for your children," Erik said. "Freely, without fear of being hunted down for your powers."

Scott frowned for a long time. "It's just…"

"I know," Erik said. "It can be hard to believe something terrible without seeing it for yourself." He rested a hand on Scott's shoulder again. "For now, why don't we simply find a place to rest and to see what exactly you are capable of?"

Scott nodded at that. "Alright."

Scott could tell that Erik was starting to get frustrated with his lack of progress. It was clear that Erik was passionate about his dream, and Scott understood that. He really did. He didn't want anyone to be hurt or locked up like he had been — or like Erik had been.

That was the one thing they had been able to do while Scott struggled to get his powers to show themselves again — talk. And while Scott had always had a hard time talking about himself, Erik seemed more than willing to talk to Scott all the same, filling the space with his own experiences. Erik had been captive far longer than Scott remembered being, and the stories he told only had Scott angrier the more he heard.

He couldn't believe that this kind of thing… this was wrong, and it was still happening. And Scott just wished that he could get his headaches to turn into something stronger so that he could follow Erik when he went to find those mutants in trouble. So he could help.

But no matter what he tried, all he could manage was a slight glow.

It wasn't hard to see that Erik wanted more from him, that he wanted to see what Scott was capable of. And the longer it went on, the more Scott wondered if Erik would give up on him, send him back — not to the Home for Foundlings, maybe, but somewhere like it. Maybe he wasn't a powerful mutant after all. Maybe he wasn't worth the effort.

Scott had stopped wearing his glasses, trying to force the headaches instead. The glasses were relatively new, anyway, and Erik said that he preferred to see Scott's eyes for himself.

"We do not hide," Erik insisted, and Scott tried to follow that rule.

His head was killing him as he sat on the beach, staring out at the waves, and he was sure that was a sign of something trying to break loose. But it wasn't until Erik came to find him and encourage him to eat that it finally did happen.

Scott couldn't have explained how he did it. All he knew that was when he saw Erik, he could have shouted in frustration — because he still had nothing to show for a day spent once again doing everything he could think of to try to force his powers to show themselves. And then that almost-shout turned into something else. He saw that same red color as before and then — kzapt — the water parted to a depth of several feet, nearly out to the horizon, before the beam or whatever it was ran out — and Scott was left blinking in honest surprise.

There was a long beat of silence before Erik let out an honestly delighted laugh. "Well then," he said. "That was quite the display, Scott."

Scott blinked before he quietly rubbed his eyes. "Yeah," he said quietly.

"Really," Erik said, smiling outright, "can you imagine the possibilities here?" He gestured out to the ocean, which was still crashing against itself. "No door would stand in your way, no army …"

"I still don't know how to do it, though," Scott pointed out, frowning hard. After all, he didn't want Erik to get too carried away when Scott wasn't sure if he could live up to those expectations.

"You will," Erik promised, still smiling as he looked out toward the horizon as the sea finally started to calm down once more. "And now that I know what you can do… I can help you."

"It's not exactly metal manipulation…"

"No," Erik said. "But every mutation has its strengths, its uses. And I am sure that together, we can find your path." He rested a hand on Scott's shoulder with the smile still in place. "I did not have the advantage you have. Much of my own power comes from my own work, with no other mutant to help me. You have an advantage, Scott. You have a way to unlock your potential sooner, more easily."

Scott nodded. "Okay," he said slowly, "so where do we start?"

Erik was pleasantly surprised with how well Scott was progressing.

The boy seemed to throw himself entirely into whatever task Erik set before him with a determination that Erik could appreciate. The boy was still struggling with his powers, and there were sometimes weeks that passed with hardly more than a glow. But he spent hours each day trying to coax his powers into being all the same.

Yes, Erik was frustrated that he was not progressing faster. But the boy had a sharp mind as well.

He'd found that out after Scott had released another beam that bored a hole into one of the metal buildings Erik had erected as he worked to realize his dream of a mutant haven. Erik had rebuilt it, of course, but Scott had been exhausted the next day. So, rather than work on his powers, Erik asked the boy if he knew the rules of chess.

He had a child's knowledge of the game, but Erik spent the day teaching him the finer points — and Scott seemed to take to it well.

Out of curiosity, then, Erik offered the boy a few puzzles, situations to unravel. Hypothetical scenarios, facilities holding mutants, that sort of thing. If Erik sketched out the layout, Scott would try to find a way in.

It was an interesting insight into the way the boy's mind worked. He seemed reluctant to rely on brute force alone — something that Erik could appreciate — and worked to minimize damage instead. Minimal casualties as well.

Even after everything he had seen, the boy had emerged from the Home for Foundlings with idealism somehow still intact. In that way, he reminded Erik of Charles — but he hoped that he had found the boy early enough that he would not let that idealism blind him.

At the moment, Scott was studying a sketch of a facility that Erik himself had studied. There were no prisoners just yet, but Erik intended to wait until it was nearly operational before he destroyed it — waste their time and their resources. But Scott believed it was another hypothetical exercise as he studied the defenses.

"If you're coming," Scott said slowly, "then the best approach would be aerial. They're focused on the sides but not the air, outside of a few guards looking for something bigger than a single person."

"Good," Erik said, nodding along. He had the same thought, but he wanted the boy to work it out for himself.

"Now, if it's just me, the best option is here," Scott said, pointing to a spot on the east, where there was a slight gap in the defenses, a blind spot.

"And how would you get there?" Erik asked.

"If I could control my beam," Scott said, "the best thing to do would be to cause a distraction on the other end of the facility." He tapped the sketch. "Here. If I blast through part of the wall, they'll think it's an attack. This way doesn't even need a huge beam. If I can get it down smaller…" He shrugged. "Even if I can't, I just need it for a few seconds to blast one door instead of an entire wall as a distraction."

Erik nodded thoughtfully. "It's simply a shame that your powers aren't reliable yet," he said. "I would be interested to see what you could do to stop these facilities."

"Me too," Scott admitted, leaning over the sketch with a quiet sort of smirk. "I really think I could do this."

"I know you can," Erik said, matching his quiet smirk. "I would like to take you with me when I destroy this facility." He tapped on the sketch. "They are nearly finished with construction, and I wouldn't be surprised if they begin housing mutants before they are through."

Scott looked surprised. "But I don't know if I can—"

"You might surprise yourself," Erik said. "But in the meantime, I will handle things. An aerial approach would be best, as you said."

Scott blinked at Erik for a moment before he almost smiled. "Like a ridealong."

Erik chuckled. "In a way. If you can add your power to mine to flatten this place before they can begin their torture of mutants, I would be interested to see your potential."

Scott held his breath before he smiled at last and nodded. "Alright," he said. "I'll do my best."

Erik nodded as he got to his feet and offered Scott a hand up as well, and before the young man could change his mind, Erik called a metal disc underneath their feet to take them to the facility.

As before, Scott seemed to be more interested in the flight than anything else, grinning over the edge of the disc as he watched first the ocean and then the cities pass underneath him. "It's a shame your powers do not allow you to fly," Erik said.

"Yeah," Scott said, still grinning. "This is amazing."

"It is, isn't it?" Erik said with a smirk.

"Dad used to let us sit in the cockpit… tell us what everything did… but this is something else," Scott said.

Erik laughed lightly. "Of course. But then, so is your gift, Scott. You will learn to use it as easily as I do."

"I hope so," Scott agreed, still grinning.

Erik smiled to himself as they approached the facility. For all his power, Scott was still only fourteen — and that gleeful innocence was easy to see in moments like this.

But it was his mind that Erik was more interested in nurturing, as well as his powers, as they came to their destination. Scott had been right to think that no one would watch the skies for two mutants, and Erik set them down gently on the roof of the facility.

"Do you think you can open the way?" Erik asked. "I can do it myself, but I feel practice is the best way to open your potential."

"I can try," Scott said, standing up a little straighter. It was clear that the boy wanted to prove himself, and Erik was more than happy to foster that, stepping back to let him try his hand.

Scott narrowed his eyes as he tried to force the beam, staring at the concrete beneath them with an intensity that seemed to match the phrase "If looks could kill." But even after Erik gave him ample time to prove himself, it seemed that he didn't have the power to do so — this time.

Erik dropped a hand on Scott's shoulder. "Perhaps next time," he said in a consoling tone, though he was disappointed himself.

"I can do it," Scott insisted, his tone almost breathless.

"I believe you can," Erik agreed. "But not tonight."

Scott looked frustrated, even as Erik held out a hand and the support structures of the facility itself bent to his will, collapsing the ground underneath them except on the small disc where they stood.

Inevitably, several guards rushed forward, shouting orders for the two of them to stand down, guns cocked in their direction. But Erik said nothing, and Scott flinched, covering his head at the gunshots rang out — only to look up and see that the bullets weren't penetrating Erik's magnetic shield.

"Wow," Scott breathed out.

Erik chuckled. "Years of practice, my young friend," he said, simply floating the two of them through the destruction as it raged around them.

By the time he was through, the facility was in ruins, and Scott was in awe, staring at the destruction around them with his lips slightly parted. Erik didn't say anything to him until they were well on their way back to the island, knowing that the boy was still processing it all, so when Scott broke the silence first, he knew he was ready to talk.

"I'm sorry," Scott said. "I tried to get it to work, and I couldn't."

"You're still learning," Erik allowed. "I wanted you to see that I was telling you the truth — these places are being built to lock up mutants now. They are not just isolated incidents, not just in the past as I remember them." He paused and smirked. "And I wanted you to see that they can be destroyed by the very powers that they fear."

"Yeah," Scott said, his eyebrows high on his head. "I've never seen you do anything like that. Even living on the island…"

"Of course you haven't," Erik said. "I don't believe that mutants should use their powers against one another unless it's necessary." He put a hand on Scott's shoulder. "But I hope you see, Scott — you are well protected. There is no reason to be afraid to act."

Scott nodded. "I want to come again," he said. "The next time you find a place like this… I want to try again." He set his jaw and straightened under Erik's hand. "I saw the cells they had made… they were going to lock up innocent people, weren't they?"

"Imprison and worse," Erik agreed. "This facility has ties to a lab not far from here."

If Scott was aware that his eyes had taken on more of a red glow than before, he gave no indication. "A lab?"

Erik paused to consider the boy. His eyes really did seem to have more of that glow to them… and Erik had to wonder if he shouldn't keep going, test the boy…

"Perhaps we should stop there next, before we return home," he said.

Scott nodded. "We shouldn't wait," he said. "If they have a lab... If they have anyone in there…"

Erik smirked before he nodded his agreement and simply switched directions — and it wasn't long before they were coming up on the lab itself.

Erik truly was curious to see how this would play out. He had already seen that Scott had a sound tactical mind and that he could plan ahead, but this was not in the plans, and Erik was curious as to how Scott would be able to think on his feet.

Beyond that, Erik was sure, judging by the set to Scott's jaw, that this would be a much better way for him to reach into that potential. Anger could be such an excellent motivator, he knew from personal experience.

They approached the lab the same way that they had approached the facility before, though Erik noted that Scott seemed to be a lot more interested than before, watching the guards with his jaw locked so tightly that Erik could see a muscle moving.

He seemed to relax just slightly when it was clear that, at the very least, the lab wasn't in use. But that only seemed to give Scott an excuse not to hold back, and Erik simply stood back, recognizing the sharp sound before the young man let loose.

By the time Scott ran out of power, Erik was smiling to himself, standing in the rubble of the lab as he put a hand on Scott's shoulder. The boy was exhausted, on his knees, but Erik couldn't be more pleased.

"I think," Erik said, "that you and I have much work to do."