Aiden hazily looked down at his notebook; the mansion could get really stuffy on these summer days. He looked up at the once bluish black chalkboard to see it covered with white scribbles; Hank's handwriting was infallibly illegible. He squinted, trying to make sense of it, but that just made the text go out of focus. The way it looked when he squinted almost reminded him of…stars…

…The first night that they had met, the stars shone brightly through the city lights, and it had been insanely hot and humid. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead and met the cut above his eyebrow, causing him to wince.

"Are you alright?" He asked, and Aiden explained, propping himself up on his elbows. "Oh." He said, fumbling with the bandages that he was wrapping Aiden's bloodied leg with. "I'll work on it after this." He looked at Erik and smiled halfheartedly; it was a little amusing to see him struggle with the bandages; it was obviously his first time.

"It's fine." Aiden replied, pressing his thumb to the cut and trying to put pressure on it without gasping from the pain. Erik looked up at him with a look of pure concern that almost shocked him.

"You'll be alright; the bullet barely grazed your knee." Aiden nodded and smirked when Erik finally managed to tie up the wound neatly. Erik put his hand above his blazer, which lay on the sidewalk beside him, and out of it flew a small metal flask, which went to his hand with the utmost ease. "Drink this, it'll ease the pain." He pressed the flask into Aiden's hand, and he was stunned. What had just happened? Was he hallucinating?

"What is it?" Asked Aiden, curiously.

"Whiskey." Aiden unscrewed the cap and took a long swig; the alcohol stung his throat on the way down. He hardly ever drank, but he figured that if there ever was a good time to start, this was it. He offered Erik his flask back, but to his surprise, Erik took his flask bearing hand and helped him up. His leg was not ready to take the weight of his entire body and almost immediately collapsed under him. However, instead of letting him fall to the ground, Erik caught him and let Aiden steady himself on him. "My car is a little ways north, can you manage?" Aiden nodded, and Erik half-walked, half-carried him to his car…

"Aiden, can you tell me the basic chemical equation for a combustion reaction?" Asked Hank, tapping a long lupine claw on the chalkboard.

"Uh, w–what?" Aiden squinted for a moment, snapping out of his trance and trying to make sense of what was on the board.

"The basic chemical equation for a combustion reaction." It was hard to not pay attention and not get caught in a class of one. He had forgotten how terrible he had been at chemistry.

"Umm…a hydrocarbon and uh…gaseous oxygen yields carbon dioxide gas and…water." He stuttered out.

"Almost." Hank sighed adjusting his glasses. "Water vapor. Not liquid water." Aiden shook his head.

"Why do I need to know this?" He asked, a little annoyed.

"Aiden, we've gone over this; Charles and I want you to know the true extent of your abilities, and you can do so much more than separating, creating and controlling basic oxygen compounds, Erik told me that when you two first met, you created fire. You excited the oxygen particles so much that they caused a spark, combusting on a flammable surface. We need to figure out how to do this again." An excited tone filled his voice, and it made Aiden feel bad to crush his hopes.

"I haven't done that since Erik and I first met." He said quietly. It had been about a month since he'd first exited his metal cell. It was gone now; Charles salvaged what he could and discarded what he couldn't. "Erik and I tried everything."

"I know!" Said Hank, a fire of passion smoldering in his voice. "But we're not just going to give up, are we?"

"Well, I'm ready to." Said Aiden unhappily. Hank didn't reply; he turned back to the chalkboard, erasing what he previously wrote and drawing the large columns of a chart. He divided up the columns and shaded in places where the information wouldn't be applicable. Aiden exhaled exasperatedly and closed his eyes. The scratching noises of the chalk remained in his ears, and he almost succeeded in tuning them out, but the columns of the chart remained behind his eyes, distorting themselves and rearranging until they almost resembled a cityscape…

Aiden's cheeks flushed a bright right as Erik set him down in the backseat of his car. Aiden's knee had only permitted him to walk halfway to the car, so Erik had to carry him the rest of the way. This, as any living soul could imagine, was unbearably awkward.

The car was black and shiny and smelled new, and as he sat up, he saw the outline of a crest on the dashboard in the moonlight.

"Whose car is this?" He asked.

"CIA's." Erik said curtly.

"So you're a G-man?" What could the government want him for?

"No. Not necessarily." The car whirred to a start and began moving.

"What do you mean?"

"They're an offshoot."

"Oh." Said Aiden. "And what are you?"

"I'm the one who stopped the bullet from hitting you right above your left eyebrow. Mostly. " Erik said, concentrating on driving. Was the cut on his forehead from the bullet? How did it get to his knee?

"Thanks." Aiden said quietly. "But are you one of them?"

"I am."

"Then why didn't you say 'we'?" Erik did not reply at first, or at all, actually, and something about that made Aiden feel a certain emotional kinship with him. "Because you find it hard to feel like you belong." He thought aloud, and right after he said it, he realized how singularly inappropriate and probing that was, and his hand shot to his mouth, but he couldn't stop talking. "Me, too." He said, still stifling his speech with his hand. They were quiet for a long time, and it was dark, but every time the moonlight caught the hood of the car at just the right angle, Aiden saw Erik's face, distant and pained. "So…what does their offshoot want with me?"…

"Aiden!" Hank tapped hard on the chalkboard with a ruler. Aiden eyes snapped open. "Fine. I won't get anything else out of you today. You can go." He sighed and began packing his briefcase.

"Hank–I'm sorry–" Aiden started, getting up.

"It's fine. I'm not angry." Hank continued to pack up. "Charles is expecting you in ten minutes, anyway." Aiden packed up his bag and left.

"So that's what they want me for? Asked Aiden, genuinely enthused.

"You aren't the only one. There are many more." Said Erik.

"And you?"

"And me; as I said, I'm the reason the bullet didn't hit you in the temple." They were silent.

"Thank you, again." The floating flask incident made sense now.

"What are you doing living all alone in the city?" Erik changed the subject.

"What are you doing coming to the rescue of random men?" Aiden changed the subject as well, and Erik laughed wryly. He then explained the concept of Cerebro, and formally introduced himself.

"I don't like it." Said Aiden, and if he could have, he would have gotten up to start walking away. "That's an invasion of my privacy; what if I want to remain hidden?"

"Do you?"

"No, but my point still stands!" He said.

"Understandably." Erik said after a long pause.

Aiden looked down upon New York City's vibrant silhouette, which managed to still stand out against the starry night.

"I'm going to miss the city." He thought aloud.

"Don't let that bother you." Erik said. "One day, this will all belong to us." And even though Aiden knew Erik had not meant them two personally, but the mutant race as a whole, he found a certain comfort in it.

"Aiden!" Charles exclaimed. Aiden blinked and realized that he was in one of the fallout shelters. "You'll never accomplish anything if you cannot focus!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm just not used to these training tactics." Aiden replied, unsure if that was totally an excuse or just partially.

"Well, what tactics can I use to enrich your learning experience?" Charles said, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Well," Aiden closed his eyes, thinking of the most effective exercise he and Erik did. "You could start by not yelling." Suddenly, his eyes snapped open. "my…room, was air sealed, almost completely, and by itself not enough air could get in to sustain one person, so, I had to draw oxygen in, dragging all of the other components of air in, periodically. Every couple of hours, Erik could come in and we would empty out the carbon dioxide." He sighed.

"I cannot permit that to happen." Charles said after a ponderous silence.

"Why not?"

"Because that borderlines on human torture, Aiden…" Aiden did not reply, but grabbed his things and retreated to his room. He was done for today; he couldn't focus at all and Charles' refusal to take his input really set him off.

Aiden had been cemented into his sleep pattern for a good three weeks, but tonight, that metaphorical cement, relatively new and brittle from stress, shattered. He awoke at what he thought was a knock on his door, and his first thought was: "Erik. It's Erik. He's come to take me away."

He jumped out of bed, sprinted towards the door and threw it open: nothing; only the cruel silence of the mansion. He couldn't take it, so he pulled on his shoes and closed the door quietly behind him.

His feet had gotten used to wearing shoes, but the feeling of the rubber against his bare foot felt strange. He half-hoped that he would meet Hank, but he wasn't so lucky; Hank wasn't stalking around the halls tonight.

On his nineteenth birthday, Erik woke him early and they dined together, he dressed and they began training. They stopped for lunch and again dined together.

This was a strange occurrence; Erik hardly ever dined with Aiden, much less two meals in a day. Erik was looking at him strangely, too! And where was Hank? Hank always dined with him…

"Stand." Erik commanded, and immediately, Aiden stood up. Erik reached into his blazer pocket and took out his flask. He moved Aiden's glass-carrying hand towards him and poured some whiskey into it. He put down his own glass and toasted with the flask itself. "Nineteen years; to many, happy more." They brought the glass and the flask together and they made a satisfying clanking sound. He brought the glass to his lips and his throat again burned a little as the liquor slid down it.

"Erik," Aiden said, "thank you."

"It was the least I could do; it is your birthday." He said and he smiled, and it was the first time Aiden had seen him honestly smile. As disconcerting as this was, Aiden continued.

"Not just for this, but for everything, Erik: thank you." And for a moment, they just looked at one another. Then, in one swift movement, Erik bent down a little and his face met Aiden's, and they kissed. Seconds passed, until Erik pulled away, a confused look painted on his face, and left without a word. He did not return until later that night…

Aiden shuddered as he recalled the waiting, seemingly endless, until that night. He blinked a few times and realized that he was sitting on the edge of the dock, the one Sean had brought him on his first day out. He shook his head. How did he get here? He had been so distracted all day, lapsing in and out of memories; it was almost as if someone was trying to tap into his memories with Erik….could it have been Charles? No…if it had been him, he wouldn't have gotten so agitated. He sighed, untied his shoes and took them off. He stripped down to his boxers and took the metal flask out of his pants' pocket. He made sure it was sealed tight and pressed it hard into his other hand, just like Erik would've done. He had left it on Aiden's nightstand on the night of his nineteenth birthday.

The flask was no longer filled with whiskey; it was technically illegal for him to drink, anyway, but he wondered if restrictive laws applied to him. To the regular humans, laws of humanity didn't apply to mutants, so why should drinking laws? He sighed. If only whiskey were in there. Instead Erik had filled it with nitrogen gas.

When asked why, Erik replied, "I had a friend once with a very interesting ability, and he told me that pure oxygen gas was poisonous to the lungs." It turned out that air is mainly made not out of oxygen, but of nitrogen. Aiden could only drag so much nitrogen gas down with the oxygen gas under the water, but with the flask to supplement his nitrogen intake, filled to the brim, with almost no free space in it, he could stay much longer.

He dove into the water and perked up a little when he realized it wasn't cold. It was warmer than he expected, and he could appreciate it much more now that Sean had taught him how to swim.

He went under the water until he reached the dusty bottom of the lake. He looked up, to see almost complete blackness except for small patches of moonlight. He had never swum in the dark before; the whole experience was beautiful, but unshakably eerie. He raised his left arm and drew some oxygen down into the lake (rather than resurfacing or depleting the lake water), and supplemented it with some nitrogen; the effect was almost like breathing normally, except a longer process.

He felt a patch of sand beside him be disturbed, and a cloud of sand and mud erupting in the water because of it. Instinctively, he turned around to see the cause, but it hurt his eyes to look through the muck. He closed them, but right before he did, a sparkling shape flashed before them. He shook his head; it must have been a trick of the moonlight.

"It's not." A woman's voice entered his mind. Aiden thought it was a woman, but the voice itself sounded inherently cold and metallic. A harsh grip took hold of his arm and began to pull him to the surface. As much as he tried to kick and struggle, he couldn't bring his body to move. He gasped for air when he finally surfaced.

"What's going on?" He sputtered, and the harsh grip again took hold of him and pulled him onto the dock. He rubbed his eyes and managed to see the sparkling figure above him. His vision finally went into focus. "Whoa–whoa. Put some clothes on; Jesus Christ!"

"That's really what you're concerned about right now?" A woman who appeared to be made entirely out of diamonds asked. She looked at him silently for a moment. "Wow, a true gentleman." She scoffed and gave him a sharp kick in the stomach. He yelled out and tried to get up, but again, he couldn't make his body move.

"What w–were you doing in there?" He managed, gesturing to the lake.

"Looking for you, of course." She said out loud. "Not with my eyes, but with my mind." The words rang in his head. "And now I've found you, Lover Boy. Lucky me." She audibly sighed. "Through your memories, I've identified you…well…and through this," She held up the flask.

"Hey! That's mine!" He grabbed for it, but he couldn't reach it. He hadn't realized that it had ever left his hand.

"Does it have your initials carved into it?" She asked, knowing the answer. The initials carved into the flask were EL, for Erik Lehnsherr. She dropped it to the ground, and as he reached for it, her foot slammed down on it, shattering it into many pieces. She gave him another sharp kick, and he cried out again. "No one's going to hear you, Lover Boy." He raised his arm, but she pressed it down with her foot. "You're defenseless, you have no chance. Give up now." She turned away. "Love really is blind." She sighed, and still not facing him, heeled him in the chest. She knelt down to his level. "Rule number one: never let your guard down." She sighed again, and her diamond form faded. "You really are a pathetic child, aren't you? I should snuff you out right here, end your misery now, but I need you alive. Erik wants you on our team. What a pity." Then an avid smile spread across her lips. "At least I can kill all your little friends."

Her hands flew to her mouth suddenly. It was working. Aiden staggered and propped himself up with his elbows. She was trying to speak, but she couldn't. Aiden spat on the ground, partially because he thought it would look really badass, but partially because he really wanted to get some of this blood out of his mouth. "Rule number one," He whispered, feebly. "Never. Let. Your. Guard. Down." He smiled as best as he could. "Now, do you want me to split each of your oxygen-bearing cells apart, or do you want to get the fuck out of here, wait–" He said. "–I get to choose, don't I?" He staggered upwards into a standing position. "Can't think well when you can't breathe, eh? Can't control my mind…" He took her wrist and led her up to the mansion. She began rasping, but he ignored it. He let small puffs of air into her mouth. "Traitor." She rasped. "Traitor."

Charles wiped her memories of that night and dropped her unconscious body at a hospital. The next night, they held a celebration of sorts.

If one had asked Aiden what kind of celebration it was, he could not have said. Sean called it a Disaster: Averted party. But Aiden wasn't so sure. What if the diamond woman, Emma, he learned her name was, had told one of her comrades the location? He tossed around the idea in his mind when it hit him like a ton of bricks: Erik knew, too. She didn't have to try to find out their location. They knew. He knew. He could be on his way at this very moment.

He shot up and crossed the room to where Charles was sitting. He bent down and asked if he could see him outside. He nodded and Aiden wheeled him out onto the terrace. He braced himself and asked the question.

"Charles, why do you think they have not attacked yet? Have you learned their location? Are you going on the offensive?" There was a small pause as Charles turned over the questions in his brain. Finally, a reply came.

"Aiden, I will do as much as I can to avert conflict between Erik and myself, as well as our associates." He said politely. "I am glad you used only as much force as was necessary with Emma, because her well-being can be interpreted as a peace-offering of sorts. You practiced great self-control and maturity with no cause to, and for it, I will be forever proud of you." Aiden thanked him, and Charles attempted to pat his back, but failed slightly. He sighed before speaking again. "And, I would like to apologize whole-heartedly for my treatment of you in the fallout shelter." At this, Aiden shook his head.

"No, Charles, there is no need to apologize, I was being too sensitive." He said. "But, in the future, I would appreciate if you would take my suggestions into consideration." He tried to put it as delicately as possible. Charles nodded stoically. Aiden again thanked him and asked if he would like to be wheeled inside, but Charles denied courteously.

"I would like to remain out here for a little longer." He concluded. They both looked out, past the terrace, and into the dark night. Then, Aiden turned away and began walking into the terrace doors, and back into the party. "Aiden," Charles called after him, still facing away. "Are you ready to have that talk I proposed one month ago?" Aiden thought for a long time.

"No," He replied.

"One day soon," Said Charles, and Aiden nodded, even though Charles couldn't see him. Aiden glanced back, into the night, then turned around to reenter the party.

Aiden looked up at the stars. Even with all the city lights, they managed to break through the oppressive aura of New York at night. He clutched the heavy grocery bag close to his chest, just in case the bottom ripped. In it was a month's worth of salary as a grocery store clerk, and what should last not much than two weeks, he would need to make last more than a month.

"Hey!" He whirled around to see an unfamiliar face.

"Hello." He turned back around and continued walking.

"Can I see what you have in that bag?"

"Nope." Said Aiden plainly. He didn't get a good look at the guy, however, just a glance was enough to see that he was bad news. He picked up his pace.

"Let me reiterate." He heard a metallic noise. He turned around to see that the man was holding a switchblade. "I have a couple of friends around this next corner, so show me what's in the goddamn bag, or you'll regret it." Aiden stopped and handed over the bag. "Good." The man began to rifle through it. Something visceral and completely innate caused Aiden to raise his hands a little into the air. The mugger stepped back and raised his knife, but, all of a sudden, it dropped out of his hand.

One of his hands shot to his throat and his other dug into his pocket and pulled out a revolver. For a few moments, he shakily gesticulated it, before firing a shot. For some reason, the bullet flew straight upwards. Another and another. Three shots missed. In a panicked state, the man continued to pull the trigger to no effect. Aiden was midway through sighing in relief when his leg collapsed under him. The pain hit him shortly after, leaving him gasping for breath and wanting to scream on the side of the road.

He kept himself in a sitting position long enough to see the mugger regain his breath and flee. However, he returned a few moments later with his friends. That was when one of their sweatshirts burst into flames. Then another. And another. This sudden conflagration sent them running like rabid dogs into and endless forest of unsuspecting prey. Aiden could only watch them for a few seconds before the energy exerted from his ability and the pain from his wound became too much, and he lay down in the street.

He heard quick footsteps moments later and instinctively tensed up.

"I wonder who's going to mop this up…"

Sean popped open a bottle of sparkling cider. It foamed all over him and the rug, but regardless of the mess, he stood up on his chair and held the whole bottle above his head.

"Um…uh…I'd like to make a toast, to the guy who saved all our asses last night." He waved the bottle down to Aiden. There were many cheers and applause. Sean whooped and drank straight from the bottle, followed by a series of groans.

"We all wanted some!" Aiden called out. Sean shrugged his shoulders and took another sip; he wasn't sorry. Aiden shook his head and snatched the bottle from him. He took a sip and passed it onto another person, who passed it on, until the bottle was empty. Even Hank took a sip! It was probably a breeding ground for about a thousand different diseases, but they were feeling young and adventurous. As the drink was being passed, a solemn and solitary figure stood up and quietly exited the room, and the room was enveloped with the same quietness with which he left.

Sean got up to go after him, but Aiden was first, nudging Sean back down and quickly tailing Alex. The room was silent as he left, but soon after he heard a quiet prattle ring out.

"Alex!" He called out, but the blonde man didn't acknowledge him. His brisk walk broke into a run and the chase led them into the fallout shelters and further, into the catacombs. "Alex! Stop right now! Talk to me!" At this, he finally turned around, he was audibly struggling for breath.

"Leave me alone right now." He huffed. "Or…I will use my power on you…and get you to leave me alone. For good."

"Are you crazy? The whole building is on top of this! You'll kill us all!" Aiden yelled out into the darkness.

"Stop it." He said brusquely.

"Stop what?"

"Identifying with us. Stop pretending that you care about any of us." Aiden was dumbstruck. "I see right through your 'nice guy' act, you're playing the victim. You're finding out all of our weaknesses, and when the time is right, you're going to whisper them back to your little boyfriend, and he'll utilize them. Whether you know it or not, you're exploiting us." Aiden opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn't make words drop from his tongue. "And I think you do."

A tear rolled down his cheek and he felt his throat knot up. He started backing away slowly, then turned around and broke into a full run. "You'll never be one of us!" Alex called after him angrily. These words rang in his mind for the whole night, along with Emma Frost's breath-stricken voice repeating the same word, over and over again.

"Traitor, traitor."

Aiden awoke at the sound of ruffling clothes. He sat up, then grimaced as the slanted wall of his metal cell hit his head with a loud bong. Within the duration of the echoing sound, he remembered what had transpired mere hours ago. He looked around and saw Erik frantically dressing a few feet away. He got up, wrapped in his sheets and went over to him.

"Hi." He said, and Erik acknowledged him with a nod and a salutation.

"Hello."

"Please don't go." Aiden replied, even though the nature of the topic itself had nothing to do with greetings. He wrapped his arms around Erik's shoulders and gave him a sort of backwards hug.

"I have to–" He started, but Aiden was persistent.

"Still, you can stay here, with me–"

"They'll be expecting me at the house." He said concisely. And that was that. There wasn't much Aiden could to protest.

"Oh…okay."

"Goodbye." He began buttoning his shirt, and Aiden let go of him. He started to turn around and go back to bed, when something occurred to him.

"Erik, do you remember the night we first met?" He asked tentatively.

"Yes." Erik said, unsure where this was going.

"And what I said in the car, about not feeling that I belonged?"
"Yes." Erik said, his voice dropping to an almost unimaginable hush.

"Well, you make me feel like I belong, okay?" Erik stopped buttoning his shirt and turned around. For a moment they just looked at one another, but soon he took Aiden into his arms and placed a kiss on his forehead. Despite the emotion Aiden thought it would take do such an act, the way Erik did it indicated no emotion at all, just a severe, deep, confusion.

"Goodbye." He said awkwardly, and exited the metal cell, letting the door slam behind him. Aiden sighed, and let the warm summer breeze waft over him for the second the door was open. Aiden went to the door and propped it open with a brick; he didn't feel like having to work for his own survival tonight.