A/N: Thanks to LoveFueledHate, see1like, Somnian, CherryBlossom1991, and rEdRoSeSiNaUgUsT for reviewing!

I'll Take Care of Him

Erik strode back to his hotel, contemplating what he could do for the mutant and still be able to hunt down Shaw. The most obvious solution, buying him, admittedly held appeal. It probably would be easy to persuade Pilas to sell him, as he did not have the impression that his mutant had gained much popularity in his time there, and Pilas obviously needed money if he couldn't even fix his door. Then he could continue on, maybe slower and less efficiently than before, but that seemed a minor sacrifice now.

The full moon smiled brightly down at him as he imagined what his life would be like with the mutant by his side. If the mutant so chose, he would wake up to him every morning, the empty space beside him filled in the best way possible. He'd care for the mutant and protect him from all harm. Those blue eyes would brighten and glow, losing that awful blank, miserable look. Maybe they'd even have sex, real sex, not just a one sided blow job. The mutant might even agree to speak. He'd spoil him with all the best things money could buy, find a hobby he liked and provide him with the means to pursue it as he wished.

Yet, there was something sour about that image. No matter how much free reign he gave him, there would be no equality or true freedom in that arrangement. He much preferred him as an equal. He deserved freedom.

Freeing slaves was illegal, however, and very difficult, especially if he wished to disable the inhibitor chip so he could use whatever mutation he had. If he freed him, he would need help to get him to a safe place where he could truly live free. That task required more resources than he had access to.

Throughout history, whenever a people was enslaved, there existed an underground railroad of some sort. He bet, hoped, there was one for mutants. Maybe he could smuggle him out, buy him, and take him to a nearby safehouse, if it existed. If he knew the mutant was free, it would be much easier to leave him behind. Erik pointedly ignored the painful twinge at the thought of leaving him. Once free, he no doubt would want nothing to do with Erik. Taking along a free mutant would only end in disaster once he was inevitably stopped and discovered, anyway. It would be for the best.

Now he just had to search for such an organization. Erik supposed that the way to find an underground railroad differed little from tracking a secret government agent. He would start tomorrow.

Erik arrived at his hotel and checked in, the brown theme of the interior a welcome relief from the gaudiness of the brothel. When he turned to go to his room, he noticed Moira pass by and peruse the papers and magazines set out for the guests. So, she was staying here too.

But he noticed something odd about her. She wore many of the same things she had earlier, but now he could sense the metal, in her necklace, her belt buckle, and the many weapons she concealed on her person. Perhaps he'd simply been too distracted when they first met? Yet, that didn't seem right. This merited investigating.

"Moira," greeted Erik in his troublemaker voice, grinning like a shark.

Moira glanced up in annoyance from where she sat reading. "I'm not interested."

"Clearly. I'm more interested to know what has you so frightened. This is a small town with a very low crime rate. Why are you armed to the teeth so suddenly? You weren't in the alley. Someone after you?"

"I am carrying a weapon, but it's perfectly legal," she said defensively. "I always do."

"Except when you go shopping," mused Erik.

"No, I do. How did you know I'm carrying anyway? No one has ever been able to detect it."

"I have my ways," said Erik evasively.

Moira stared at him, her doe eyes softening and going wide. "You...do you need help?"

Erik stared, taken off guard by this abrupt change in attitude. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that, I'm not on the run, exactly, but you must be," she whispered, glancing around to check for eavesdroppers.

Erik frowned, losing the thread of the conversation. "I'm not on the run."

Moira glanced around again. "I want to try something. Will you come up to my room with me? And that wasn't a proposition!"

"Don't worry, I was never really interested. I'm taken," Erik said.

They walked back to her room. "Does she know you flirt with other girls?"

"Not a she," Erik admitted. "It's complicated."

Moira didn't press further, opening her door and letting them both inside. She gestured Erik to sit down on the couch opposite her, and she sat on a chair by the bag she'd been carrying earlier.

Suddenly, Erik could no longer sense the metal she had on her person. He stared at her, frowning. Odd. He couldn't even sense the zipper on his leather jacket.

"You're noticing something different, aren't you?" Moira commented softly.

"What are you doing?" Erik asked, puzzled.

"Erik, you're a mutant. This device I have in the bag blocks-"

Erik stood and strode over, towering over her threateningly. "I am NOT a mutant! I just have an intuitive sense of metal because of the dangerous life I lead!"

Moira, unsurprised by his reaction, calmly met his furious gaze. "I know it's not something you want to hear, but your reaction to this device proves-"

"Shaw himself proved that I am human," Erik said vehemently. "My own mother knew I was human and told me so!"

"There's nothing wrong with being a mutant. I won't turn you in," she said.

Erik paused in his fury, possibilities forming in his mind. "I know there's not. I have nothing against mutants," he replied carefully, studying her. He sat back down.

"I can help you," Moira said.

She was convinced he was a mutant, and she kept offering to help because of that. It seemed that though his luck ran out right now with tracking Shaw, it had surfaced already in his determination to help the mutant. "I don't need help, but I know someone that does."

"Who?"

"It's hard to explain," hedged Erik. Admitting to himself how he felt about the mutant was one thing, but admitting it to someone else was another thing entirely.

"Your boyfriend?" Moira guessed.

Erik thread his fingers through his hair uneasily.

"He's a mutant." She took his continued silence as an admission. "Not your own slave, though, obviously."

Erik shook his head. "Would you...take him in?"

"I have resources, but we need money. If you made a reasonable donation, I could see to his safety. What's your plan?"

"I'm going to buy him," said Erik. In a selfish way, he was disappointed that he'd settled things quickly. Now he would have to say goodbye to him all the sooner.

"It would be best for him, a lot less dangerous, if you helped with the cost, and I bought him instead," Moira said. "Then I can smuggle him to the border of Switzerland without risk to him if questions are asked."

Switzerland, Erik knew, was one of the few countries that refused to join in the one world government of humans that had formed. Switzerland allowed mutants equal rights, though that ostracized them from the rest of the world. Mutants were not allowed to enter the country, and they could not leave without giving up their freedom.

The one world government, United Nations, did not directly declare war on Switzerland, instead putting pressure on them to give up their neutral stance by limiting trade and access to resources from other countries. As a result, life there wasn't easy, but if she could manage to get him across the boarder, at least he would be free. Since Moira would never report him missing, no one would ever come looking for him to bring him back. The Swiss would grant him official citizenship after a year or two, once they were sure the United Nations were not going to find out and demand deportation. All in all, a good plan.

"I'll be staying here for a few days, so I can do that first thing tomorrow morning and check to see if I'm being followed. It's routine," she explained. "We don't want to draw attention to our safe house for mutants."

Erik did not like handing over a large sum of money to a stranger. He told her his concerns, and she agreed to not take the money until he could confirm with Pilas that she was actually using it for that. Not that Pilas would know that it was Erik's money.

"And Erik, think about what I said."

Erik would do no such thing, but he wanted to make nice, so he nodded again and left, settling in his bed shortly after.

Erik, with his father beside him, fought through an endless crowd to get to his mother as she was dragged away by human soldiers. No matter how hard he struggled, his mother slipped further and further away. Almost out of sight, she yanked her hand out of the soldier's grasp and raised it to her temple. The metal gate, that threatened to separate them completely, groaned and bent, but did not yield. His mother disappeared...

Erik jerked awake, gasping, reaching for the empty spot beside him. His hands grasped nothing but air, confusion giving way to coherency. Once again, he held the strange expectation that the mutant would be there with him. He reflected briefly on his nightmare as his breathing slowed. Nightmares of his separation from his mother were not unusual, but her hand gesture and the groaning metal gate had been a new twist. That certainly had not been the way it had gone in reality. He'd blacked out, his head screaming in pain, shortly after the gate had been closed.

The next time he saw his parents, Shaw had shot them in front of him. The fact that he had not been able to sense metal back then was a small mercy. Actually being able to feel the bullets tearing through their skulls was more than he thought he could bear.

No doubt this odd departure from the usual stemmed from Moira's ridiculous claims yesterday. He'd been through horrible torture and never showed the slightest sign of mutation. She had no right to disregard that as if it had been nothing. Clearly, her device was faulty.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. He threw on a pair of pants and hurried to unlock and open the door. Moira stood on the other side, frowning. The mutant was conspicuously absent, to Erik's disappointment. Perhaps she had left him in her room?

"Come in," Erik invited. Moira came in but didn't bother to sit down.

"Pilas won't sell him," she informed him without preamble.

Anger swelled in Erik's chest. "Don't worry, I'll persuade him," he said darkly, going to find his shirt and his weapons.

Moira followed him. "No, don't do that!" she said, her voice firm. "That will draw attention to me and make things very dangerous not only for him, but for me and all the mutants I help! We must either persuade him peacefully or break him out. I need you to not get kicked out of there if we are to do that. Pilas still has no idea that we're working together. You can help me by continuing to go there and developing a plan. After he's gone, and Pilas still has no idea of our alliance, then you can make all the threats you want to keep him from reporting him missing. All right?"

Erik's blood still pounded through his veins, demanding he take action, but he could not refute Moira's logic. Hasty action, at this point, would make things worse for his mutant. He nodded reluctantly. "Why wouldn't he sell him?"

"Because, apparently, he's a level five and that adds prestige to his business. Sickos find it attractive to have complete control over someone with that much power buried inside them. The more level fives he has, the more successful he believes he will be."

"Level five?" Erik asked in confusion.

"The most powerful level of mutation there is. Whatever he can do without the chip inhibiting him, he does it well, with potential for great destruction."

Erik had no idea he was that powerful, and thought it was odd Pilas never flaunted that fact. But come to think of it, he had seen numbers posted by the mutants on the wall. He'd paid no attention to them when he concluded they made no sense. Now they did, so he planned on taking note of them next time, curious.

Learning this made Erik wonder as to what else Moira knew. It occurred to him that she must keep close watch on the government, and may even have spies inside. "What do you know about Shaw?"

Moira blinked in confusion at the abrupt change in subject, but answered him after a moment. "That he is one of our biggest concerns. If he finds out about our underground railroad, it will be the end for all of us. Tracking him is very difficult, though. He must have some secret base that we haven't found out about."

"I'm trying to track him myself. It isn't easy," Erik admitted. "I heard a rumor that he had a colleague in this town gathering information for him, possibly at Bart's Leathers, but I hit a dead end."

"Which is why you were such an ass the other day," Moira realized.

"I'm always an ass," Erik objected with a shark grin.

Moira gave him a disbelieving glance. "I have to get going and meet up with someone. Just business," she clarified when Erik's grin widened suggestively.

She left with a promise to check back in with him tomorrow, when they could start formulating plans to free his mutant.

Now that he had a lot of time on his hands before going to see the mutant tonight, he checked out a few language books from the local library. It was always good to brush up on the numerous languages he knew. Interrogation did no good if he misinterpreted what the person said.

He also did a sketch of the mutant while his image shone clear and fresh in his mind. If all went to plan, he would soon be just a memory. Hours passed without him realizing it. He glanced at the clock, hurriedly stashing the sketch in the suitcase pouch with his other ones. It was now time to return again to the mutant, who was becoming far more than a pleasure slave to him, but he did not care to examine exactly what more that might be, especially with his pending departure from his life.

Erik eagerly entered the brothel and shoved the door closed with his shoulder, his hands stiff from drawing. He made to walk past Emma, clearly heading towards his silent mutant, but she stopped him.

"He's not in any shape, sugar," she cautioned him.

Alarmed, Erik hurried over to his mutant, who had his back turned, hands buried in his long sleeves, and face averted so that only his dark hair was visible. "Hey, everything okay?" Erik asked softly.

The mutant didn't turn or acknowledge him in any way, holding himself stiff and slumped. Now it was Erik's turn to be confused. He thought he'd been forgiven. He couldn't blame him if he'd changed his mind, but it didn't seem like him. Did this have something to do with what Emma said?

He paid for his time while the mutant was taken back to the room, the mutant moving more slowly and stiffly than normal. Erik stared after him, concerned and preoccupied. He rushed to the room as soon as he could, determined to find out what was wrong. He'd brought the scotch. Maybe he would feel better when he saw it.

Erik opened the door, surprised by how dark the room was. Only a few candles were lit along the wall. He gave his eyes a minute to adjust, pulling the lever to extend the chains as he did so. Now that it was being used, it came down with much greater ease. There was no sign or sound that the mutant had moved at all, so Erik cautiously made his way to the bed, putting the scotch and the glasses on the table. "Hey," he said, directing his gaze to the form on the bed, apparently under the sheets. "Are you okay? I brought the scotch."

There was no response, not that he'd been expecting one, really, but he thought he would at least get a hand squeeze, or some sign that everything was all right. Unsure of what to do, he found the lighters and lit the rest of the candles so he could see to pour the last of the scotch in the glasses. As the candles burned, the smell of fragrant smoke reached his nose.

After he finished pouring, he shifted on the bed, turning his attention to the small form under blue silk, only his dark head of hair visible. He gently placed his hand where he believed the mutant's shoulder to be, doing his best imitation of that butterfly touch. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to," he assured him, "but I do want to know that everything is okay. You aren't hurt are you?" he asked, suspicions forming in his mind. He remembered what the owner had said the first night, about saving this one for the people who 'liked it rough' because he was stubborn. He was sure that was a euphemism for things like rape, bloodplay, and various other cruel things that Erik's mind skittered away from. Now was not the time to lose his temper.

"If someone hurt you I want to take care of it," Erik continued, his voice turning to steel. "Show me. Please," he added, making his voice gentler so the mutant knew his anger wasn't directed at him.

The mutant still didn't move, but didn't resist as Erik peeled down the sheets. Rage stormed through his mind as he took in the cuts and bruises on every exposed piece of skin which he could now see, dried blood smeared everywhere. The mutant still hadn't moved or met his gaze, seemingly frozen and blank.

"It doesn't look like you have been tended to," said Erik, his anger spiking another notch. "Take your clothes off," he ordered.

Slowly, painfully, the mutant complied, sitting up, his back to Erik. This wasn't the way Erik had fantasized about seeing him naked for the first time, but his concern outweighed any disappointment. His injuries under his clothes were far worse, and Erik's frown deepened with every new patch of injured skin that was revealed.

The bruises and cuts told a clear story of what had happened. He had been chained tightly and fought against it. Someone had punched, bit, and cut him repeatedly with a knife. When Erik realized he'd been raped, his anger surged another notch.

When he was fully naked, Erik said, "Get in the tub."

The mutant struggled up, clearly in pain, but within a few minutes he managed to limp his way into the tub, the pure white theme of the bathroom making his injuries stand out even more. Erik held back a gasp as he saw the mutant's back - he had clearly been flogged, brutally. The image of that being done to him was enough to send his blood sizzling hot again with rage, straight into the murderous zone. Someone would pay for this. He would avenge him.

Erik found the necessary items in the bathroom to treat him with and sponged him down as gently as he could, disinfecting the cuts and putting soothing ointment on the bruising. Though tense, shaking, clearly in pain and habitual fear, the mutant allowed Erik to touch him freely. Erik wondered how he could have earned this kind of trust, especially after everything that had happened to him. The blue eyes, a bit teary from the disinfectant, gradually met Erik's, soft and wondering. Erik retrieved the glass of scotch for him to take the edge off the pain.

When Erik had done everything he could, he did his best to bandage him and helped him dress himself. Then Erik got him to lie back down on the bed, while Erik spooned up behind him, throwing his arm over him protectively, mindful of his injuries.

After a few minutes, the mutant tried to turn over, clearly reaching for Erik's belt, but Erik swatted him off. "Don't be silly," he said, a bit harshly, settling his arm back over him. He'd never paid just to lie with someone before, but he felt no regrets. He relaxed, gently stroking the mutant in what he hoped was an enjoyable, soothing manner. Erik felt him scoot a bit closer, making Erik smile.

When he heard the bells, it was more difficult than ever for Erik to go. All he wanted to do was keep lying here, protecting the mutant from harm. But he couldn't do that, not indefinitely, it would only be a short term fix. His best chance was to leave and plot with Moira so the mutant could have a more long term solution.

Erik dragged himself out of the bed, coming around to the other side so the mutant could see him without moving. "I will be back. I will," he promised firmly. "Whoever did this, will pay. And I will find a way to make things better for you." Erik turned and left, using sheer willpower to force himself out the door.

Erik stormed to Pilas, willing himself not to wrap his hands around the man's throat and snap his neck. Or choke him. Or tie him up and have a go at him with that flogger his mutant had been subjected to. "I wish to make a standing appointment every evening with him," snapped Erik instead. Damn Moira and her logical stipulations.

Pilas, meaning to protest as this was against his policy, felt his words die in his throat at Erik's murderous, positively serial killer expression. "Ah, yes. Of course."

"I expect him to be in better condition. Better physical condition," Erik clarified. He didn't want Pilas to think his mutant had been performing badly in any way. "Why was he not attended to?"

"You aren't his only customer," objected Pilas. As valuable as he believed Erik to be, he couldn't afford to have him service Erik exclusively, and everyone else who was with him liked it rough. "And I tried to take care of him, but he wouldn't let me touch him without a fight and injuring himself worse. Not worth the effort."

Erik, realizing there wasn't much he could do, gave him a disgusted look and stormed out.

Heedless of the late hour, Erik visited Moira. She had barely let him in before Erik started venting his frustration. "He's been beat up, badly. I tried taking care of him, but there was only so much I could do. We've got to get him out."

Her doe eyes widened sympathetically, but she held firm. "Not without taking the time to make a good plan. Otherwise it will make things worse for him, and you know it."

Erik thread his hands through his hair in aggravation.

A small smile played at Moira's lips. "You really care about him, don't you?" That was just adorable, especially considering how hard ass Erik seemed otherwise. "I'm sorry about what's happening, I really am. But I've had far too many near misses to take a risk. There's too much at stake. If you want to help, you can draw the floor plans of the place, run some errands for me, and help me to figure out how to disable this proximity mutation suppressing device."

"Why the device?" Erik wondered, biting back his temper.

"The PMS device, as we like to call it, is installed in a building whenever you have five or more level five mutant slaves, as an extra precaution against them escaping. If they somehow managed to disable their chips, this will reactivate them automatically in a certain range, and it also does some mutation suppressing of its own, though not nearly as well as the chip. Pilas is sure to have one. If we can disable it, it will make escaping that much easier, since the mutant would be able to help. I've already ordered the device to disable his chip." She opened the bag, and let Erik examine the PMS device, an odd thing made mostly of antennae and a metal box filled with wires and components he didn't recognize.

"Smashing it doesn't work. We've tried. A very expensive experiment I'm not repeating," Moira explained. "There's no way of crushing it that would work in a covert mission."

Erik nodded thoughtfully, unable to get an intuitive sense of it. He gave it back to Moira. "I'll get the sketch of the place to you tomorrow," he promised before leaving.

That night, his fear and worry that his mutant would suffer more abuse barely allowed him any sleep.