Title: Expendable
Author: Tempest
Disclaimer: If we shadows have offended, think but this and all is mended. That you did but slumber'd here while these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme is no more yielding then a dream. Gentles, do not reprehend. If you pardon, we will mend (Shakespeare). I don't own any characters recognizable from X-Men. Marvel, et al, owns all characters. No copyright infringement intended.
Author's note: I took some liberties with the ending of the scene from the movie. I may write a companion piece to this in Mystique's point-of-view. We'll see.

———

Erik's life was a reflection of the hate he'd fought for most of his living years. Hate that shaped him as a mutant and as a man. Hate that made him cynical to the belief that man was "inherently good." What good was man when he feared that which he didn't understand, when his one goal in life was the destruction of this unknown thing?

He had been fortunate enough to experience many facets of man's hate. Fortunate because he'd come to learn his true destiny early in life. Watching this hate unfurl before him, he learned what his true purpose was.

He'd always been choosy about his "friends" in life. He wasn't a fool. All men, mutant or not, had their own agenda. There were only two people he considered worthy of his true affections—Charles Xavier and Raven Darkholme. Charles had been his equal until he became obsessed with the foolish notion that humans and mutants could coexist. This belief had caused an irreparable rift between them.

Raven was his prodigy, the one who would carry on his legacy. He was old and he didn't hold any illusions about his mortality. He sought out a suitable replacement for himself—one who would achieve his dream through whatever means necessary. Raven had shown the aptitude for it, the dedication for it. Therefore, she was the only logical choice. He molded her to be an extension of himself. Everything he knew, she knew. That was until she'd lost the very thing that made her superior.

Now, he had to cast her out like the father who had to cast out his wayward son. It wasn't something he wanted to do, but it was something that had to be done. His cause was no longer her cause.

She'd have to find her own place in the world. How would she adjust to living in a world where she didn't have her powers? She'd always lived her life as whoever she wanted to be. Now, she had to find herself in a world that once loathed her, that lied to the populace and made them believe that normalcy was "good."

Still, he knew there would be few mutants as dedicated to him as Raven. The boy, Pyro, believed he was dedicated and perhaps he was in his naïveté, but he was reckless and undisciplined—not a suitable candidate to be Erik's successor. And there were those who stood "faithfully" by his side, but eventually, the more ambition mutants in his lot turned on him, hoping to garner the power he wielded for their own.

She was the only one who ever understood that salvation must come through him, that he was the only mutant who truly understood the kind of psychological and physical war they waged against the humans. She was only one who'd been willing to carry through every command he'd ever given her. She hadn't questioned him, even when he questioned himself. She trusted him wholly.

"You saved me," he said with little emotion, unable to summon the right amount of appreciation. He was appreciative that she hadn't thought twice about her own life when she threw herself in front of the shot, risking her well-being for the greater good. She'd done what any true devotee should do when their leader is threatened. But he found it hard to express true appreciation when she was now beneath him.

And while she hadn't died, he considered her current state a fate far worse than death. He could barely stand to look at her as he stared down at her naked, cowering form. So, he turned away from her, trying to shield his disgust—something he'd never quite mastered. The poison from the dart ran through her veins, stripping her of everything that made her superior to the humans. She was no longer a mutant, losing the very thing that made her beautiful to him.

That made her an expendable asset in his eyes, weak and so very human. He had no time for human frailty when he had a war to win. Surely, she of all people understood this. She, who had been his sole confidant for years, knew his abhorrence toward humans. She understood that this was a necessity, that he couldn't look at her without feeling a great level of revulsion for what she was now.

He ignored the hurt in her eyes when he told her that she was no longer one of them, steeling his own heart against it. He did not become one of the most powerful mutants in the world by falling prey to delicate emotions. He became powerful by mastering the power that was innately his; he became powerful by patterning himself after the great rulers of the world (who'd shown that even some humans were far superior than their own kind).

He wouldn't—no, he refused—to compromise that for anyone including Raven. He was about to be part of something great, and as is evident in any monumental moment in history, there were many sacrifices that had to be made. Raven was just one of those many, a causality of the coming war. She wasn't the first, and she wouldn't be the last.

Perhaps he should've been more compassionate toward her; he'd come to believe that he respected and cared for her more than most of his pawns. He'd shared things with her that he hadn't told anyone else—except Charles when they'd been fighting a common cause.

But she was no longer part of him. She was one of them; that made her the enemy. And whatever feelings he'd had for Raven died when Mystique died. Mystique's death would not go un-avenged. He'd make them pay for what they'd done to her, what they'd done to them all.

As he started to walk out the carrier, he paused when he heard Raven wry, furious laughter. He didn't turn to look at her, but he could feel her anger reaching out to grab him like desperate hands. "All I wanted was all you wanted. Remember, revenge is a twofold deal, Magneto," she said, her laughter only picking up pitch. He had no time to listen to her gibberish.

"Humanity" had broken her, as it would them all if he didn't stop it.