Erik looked up at his young charge from the corner of the hotel room, where he stood using the telephone.
"Yes, Charles, he's alive and well," he responded dryly, continuing, "Somewhere in Ohio. The rental car company said they will have a replacement for us first thing in the morning. Yes… absolutely… Yes. Tell Sean I expect his essay on my desk tomorrow at 9 AM whether I'm home or not. Good night."
By the time he hung up the telephone, the clock screamed 1:00 in the morning. After driving all day, the man collapsed onto the bed near the door.
"Are they going to survive holding down the fort?" Alex asked from where he lay in bed across the room.
"Time will only tell," Erik responded humorously.
Alex rolled over on his side to face the wall as Erik flipped the lights off with his powers.
Five minutes later, the youth started, "Erik?"
"Hm?" the man responded, not yet able to succumb to the fatigue that was pulling at him.
"Thanks," Alex continued, "for driving me back, I mean. I know it's not convenient and then with that deer running into us— I know you probably have better things you wanted to do with the past two days than driving me from Iowa to Westchester."
"Alexander," the man responded, "I will be the judge of what is deserving of my time, thank you."
"And about what I said— I don't hate you. I shouldn't have said- I didn't mean it," the youth continued, staring up at the blankness of the ceiling.
"That's good to hear," Erik replied, "and you might be surprised."
"Surprised by what?" the younger mutant asked.
"About what Charles and I are able to understand about trauma and loss," the metal wielder remarked, reflecting on the conversation Alex was referring to.
His statement was met with no response, and for a few minutes, Erik wondered if all the excitement of the past few days had caught up with the teenager and he had fallen asleep.
"I'm not ready," Alex admitted finally, "But when I am…"
"You can come find me day or night," the elder mutant responded, "You don't have to face your demons alone, Alex. Trust me, it's far more preferable to battle them when you have support."
"This coming from the man that attempted to lift a submarine out of the water solo," Alex quipped, the side of his lip curling up.
"And where did that get me?" Erik responded seriously, "Despite what I believed then, my demise would not have been to my benefit, or any of yours. We have a responsibility to each other now, Alex; a responsibility to those of our kind. Something Charles helped me see is that we cannot fulfill those responsibilities from the grave."
"That's easy to say when your entire existence isn't a warpath of destruction," Alex mumbled with a scowl.
Erik's raised eyebrow was practically palpable in the darkness.
"Did you forget to whom you were speaking?" he asked, "An entire decade of my life was devoted to tracking down and destroying Nazi sympathizers. I wasn't wielding metal to make chandeliers, Alex. My existence before this team was quite the 'warpath of destruction.'"
Alex verbalized no response so Erik continued, "You can try to put up walls to separate yourself; convince yourself that no one can possibly understand your plight, that you are alone in your suffering. I understand that you don't particularly want to talk about it, as if not saying the words out loud make their reality a little less, but it only works for so long before what haunts you in the dark begins to haunt you in the light."
"Thankfully I can just set everything on fire and watch it burn," Alex responded, attempting to utilize humor in order to shield the fact that his voice was thick with emotion.
"If I could take your pain away, I would," Erik stated sincerely, "But that is not my gift. I can only teach you how to channel that anger and pain into a purpose."
Alex shifted, that sentiment calming his inner storm enough for him to drift into sleep.
—-
"Come on, Erik," the teenager pleaded, "We got into a crash when you were driving. Just let me drive for like an hour."
"With your history with cars?" Erik replied, appraising the boy with a raised eyebrow.
"Past is in the past. If anything, that's a reason you should let me drive. You know I can handle it," the blonde youth responded, "I once evaded twelve cops in the middle of New York City for an hour and then disappeared."
"So what you're saying is that there's probably numerous warrants out for your immediate arrest?" Erik retorted, still not handing over the keys as he looked dubiously from the rental car in the motel parking lot to the young man standing next to him.
"Live a little, Erik. Who knows how long you have left, you're practically ancient…" Alex jested, reaching for the keys.
They moved out of his grasp, suspended in the air by the elder's mutation.
"Not a mile over the speed limit," the man warned, floating the keys over to him.
Alex snatched them and simultaneously pumped his fist into the air, causing Erik to gaze heavenward before settling into the passenger seat.
Three hours later, he thought of something.
"You do have your license, right?" Erik asked, glancing over at the driver, "Not just that fake identification card I confiscated last month."
"Please, you really think I would have been cool with Sean getting his license if I didn't have mine?" The nineteen year old traded back with a mild eye roll, "I've had my license since the day I turned sixteen, and I've been driving for longer than that."
"They let children who can barely sit still to do their schoolwork operate three thousand pound machinery traveling at 60 miles per hour," Erik stated, shaking his head.
"Please, a car is nothing. I was ten and I could fly a plane," Alex remarked offhandedly.
"You have the mechanical mind and quick instincts that elude many of your generation," Erik commented.
"Plus my dad taught me stuff," Alex responded as he shifted lanes, not taking his eyes off of the road.
"Hm," Erik responded, leaving the topic open to the boy if he wanted to continue, "Hank can always use a copilot."
Alex grunted before responding under his breath, "The last time I was someone's copilot the plane crashed and everyone died, so no thanks."
Erik sat silently, stunned between the boy's forthrightness and the amount of guilt he still seemed to carry over it.
"I'm sorry that happened to you, Alex. That is a tragedy no man should have to face, let alone a child," the metal wielder continued.
Alex didn't respond and Erik noticed the speedometer crept a little higher than it had been.
"It wasn't your fault," the elder man stated firmly, "Regardless of whatever guilt and anger you hold, it was not your fault."
The blonde youth swallowed and turned his head to the side briefly, swiping away a sole tear that slid down his cheek.
"Sure doesn't feel that way," he responded, glancing down at the speedometer as well and adjusting the speed back to the posted limit.
Erik didn't speak for two miles but when he did, his voice carried his own pain as well.
"I was only a boy when my mother was taken from me, right in front of my eyes. I carried the guilt that I was unable to save her; the guilt that I survived instead of her for years," Erik spoke softly.
"How did you get rid of it?" Alex asked, glancing over at Erik from where they were stopped at a red light.
Erik's lip turned up with a small smile as he returned eye contact, and he replied, "Charles helped me find memories of a happier time, and helped me to truly feel those emotions I had locked away in search of vengeance… and we found all of you children to guide and mentor."
"…so what you're saying is I should go make some mini-Alex's?" the teenager quipped with a smirk.
Erik shot him a disapproving stare.
"Right," Alex responded, "…I understand what you mean though, Erik. I think I just forgot what it felt like to have a purpose again. Even if it's just terrorizing Hank."
"If you keep terrorizing Hank, you're going to have a new purpose - 5 AM training sessions with me," Erik replied, returning the youth's smirk.
"Make it 7 AM and I actually might take you up on that," Alex commented, glancing over at the man to his right, "Maybe channel a little anger into a purpose."
"I welcome it," Erik said in response, before uttering a short laugh and continuing, "Though I pity the fate of the new mannequins."