A/N: And I'm back everyone! Thank you all for being so patient!


Erik sat in the main hallway, his hands clenching and unclenching by his sides. He had, of course, expected that Susanna would be angry. He had expected her to want to leave him, to take Anya and Lorna somewhere normal. Lorna had already vowed that she would come with him, and he knew that she would cleave to her word, but she would have to defy her mother to do so. He doubted that she herself had realized this.

He'd known it was all coming. However, hearing it had been a whole new type of hurt. Everything Susanna had said had been right: he'd lied to them all, put them in danger, and pretended that he was something that wasn't. He hadn't even been able to answer the one question that she had asked of him.

Who was he? Erik had tried so hard to be the man he should be. He'd been a good father: he was sure of that. He had protected his daughters, raised them right, provided for them. Erik wasn't so sure that he'd been a good husband, Susanna's constant patience stood testimony to that, but he had at least been a loving one.

Perhaps that was why Susanna was only considering leaving. Despite all of the vows she'd made, vows he knew couldn't hold up in the light of their latest experience, she had every right to go. When they were first married she could have never even begun to imagine this situation. Susanna was better than that.

What had happened to the life he'd tried to build for her, the man he'd tried to be? He'd worked so hard and so long only to fail now.

"Erik, good news!"

He glared over his shoulder. Charles was walking up, looking cheerful. The smile on his face died as he looked at Erik.

"Is…is something the matter?" he asked.

"No," Erik said.

Charles cocked his head and sat down next to him.

"I rather think there is," he said, "No mind-reading required."

Erik intensified his glare.

"I see," Charles said.

He tapped his armrest.

"I wanted to tell you that Platt said that the CIA gave him full control of the mission," he said, "I was hoping to begin locating other mutants to join our cause. Do a recruiting drive and cut Shaw off at his source. Moira is already going to be gathering information, so it should work out nicely. I'm going to use this machine, Cerebro I think it's called, to start our search."

"Good," Erik said.

Charles licked his lips.

"I was hoping that Lorna could be one of our first recruits," he said.

"She'd like that," Erik said.

"And you would be alright with that?" asked Charles.

"Yes."

"I find that hard to believe."

Erik sighed. The telepath really wasn't going to let it go.

"No, I'm not really fine with it," he said, "But she told me the other night that she would be willing to fight by my side."

His fingernails bit into his palms.

"That thought fills me with horror," Erik said, "I've managed to get her into a situation where she has to make a declaration like that, the little girl I've tried so hard to protect. She's only sixteen."

Pride and shame warred within him at the memory. He knew that he should praise his daughter for her clarity of mind, her willingness to act, her courage. Some part of him cried out though. She was his daughter, barely more than a child. How could he ask her to fight, how could he permit her? No wonder Susanna was considering leaving. God forbid Anya be forced to make that choice in the near future as well.

He shook his head.

"But I started teaching her how to defend herself when she was six," said Erik said, "I know that she's capable, but she's also headstrong. If I said no she would find a way to tagalong anyway. At least now she'll be where I can see her, following my orders."

There was a long pause.

"I hadn't thought about mobilizing children to fight," Charles said quietly.

"Of course not," Erik said, "You don't understand."

"Excuse me?"

"You told me that I needed friends, allies," Erik said, "You only look for allies in times of war Charles, and we are in a war right now."

Charles tapped his lips with his fingers.

"I was rather hoping to avoid that," said Charles.

"Too late," said Erik."

Charles nodded, his face reluctant.

"Perhaps," he said.

"There's no perhaps about it," Erik said.

"Fine," Charles said.

He took his hand away from his mouth.

"I have the feeling that this isn't what's bothering you though," Charles said, "At least not the only thing."

Erik glared at him again.

"Alright, you'd rather not talk about it," said Charles, "I understand."

He cleared his throat.

"But, in my opinion, whatever's going on with your wife can't be more than you can fix."

Erik whirled around at him, his face a snarl. Charles blinked, but a moment later he regained his composure.

"There's no need for that," he said.

"Concern yourself with your own affairs!" Erik snapped.

"It looks like our affairs are intertwined now," said Charles.

He folded his arms.

"Why are so damn eager to stick your nose in my business?" Erik demanded.

"Well, it's what friends, or allies as you insist on calling us, do," said Charles.

"Why the hell are you so eager to be friends?"

"Why are you so eager not to be?" Charles asked.

Erik drew back.

"Erik, there are a few things that we need to face," Charles said.

He held up a finger.

"First," he said, "I am not your enemy. Our causes, our unique condition, and, to some extent, our views, have put us in a position where we can't afford to be enemies."

He held up another finger.

"Second," he said, "I have known very few mutants. My sister was the only one I met before you. As I said before, we have quite a lot in common. Not only should we not be enemies because of this, we should be friends. We should be able to help each other."

Erik snorted. Getting points on friendship in an essay format was irritating.

"Third, I know why you are unwilling to trust me," Charles said, "I can tell that it's nothing personal. It appears that it's a very general distrust you have of others, from what little I've seen of you. I know that your family has been threatened in the past, and this makes you cautious even of people who seem harmless."

Erik placed his thumb outside of his fist. He was second away from punching the man next to him.

"Fourth, and most important," Charles said, "I care about your family."

This drew Erik up short. He narrowed his eyes at Charles, but more out of suspicion than anger.

"Why?" he asked.

"Quite a lot of why's in your questions," Charles said, "But the answer has two parts."

"You're subdividing again," Erik said.

"University gets into your blood sometimes," said Charles, "But you have a lovely family, and you have two children that you told me only moments ago that you don't want to get involved in this. You've been forced, albeit somewhat strangely, to allow Lorna into this. By proxy I know this means you don't want her younger sister involved. I can respect and admire that."

Charles began to look nervous now. He reached over to a nearby whiskey decanter, perhaps put aside for some of the higher-level agents' breaks, and poured himself a glass.

"The second part is a little more complicated," he said, "My father died when I was very young. He was a soldier during the Second World War, his unit was ambushed, and it destroyed my mother. While your wife seems to be much stronger than my mother, I know what kind of effect that can have on a family. I also know what it's like to not have a good family life, to want something better, to think that no child deserves to grow up a certain way."

For the first time he heard bitterness in Charles's voice.

"Rather than make me hate strong family groups, this has made me appreciate them for what they are," he said, "I don't want any family hurt when I can prevent it. Besides-"

His voice lost the bitterness and instead became cocky.

"I'm a teacher, or at least I will be when I get a position," he said, "This has made me rather fond of children."

Erik stared at him for a few minutes further. He didn't have any reason to doubt anything that Charles was saying. More than that, he had been a useful ally in the past. Erik had had exactly one friend since the camps, and that woman had become his wife. Like Lorna he had always had trouble relating to others.

Perhaps it was time to at least try.

"My wife is thinking about leaving me," Erik said, "Not a divorce, she's too kind for that, but a separation."

Charles nodded and then took a sip of his whiskey.

"I can't imagine that this rift was caused by a disagreement over mutation," he said, "I won't insult your wife by entertaining that thought. So what is this?"

Erik gave a sardonic smile.

"Charles, I didn't just bend metal that night," he said, "My wife saw me partake in an level of violence that I had made her believe I was no longer capable of. She had heard earlier that I had beaten and threatened a man who wronged us."

"That was extreme."

"You don't know what he did," Erik said.

"Alright, what did he do?" asked Charles, bringing his glass to his lips.

"He bribed a judge to take Lorna and Anya away," Erik said.

Charles stopped in mid-sip.

"That is...horrible. What could you have possibly done to him?" Charles asked.

"I married Susanna," said Erik.

"Ah," Charles said.

He took a sip of his whiskey and stared at Erik in expectation.

"I think she's worried about what I'm going to do next, or rather, who I am. She probably wonders what lies I'll tell to hide my face," Erik said, "She asked me if I was the man she'd raised a family with, or the man she saw the other night who lost control and almost killed a man with his bare hands."

He laughed, but there was no joy in it.

"I think she's waiting for an answer. And when I tell her that I'm the man she saw last night, then I think that's when she'll take Anya and leave. Lorna will tell her mother that she wants to stay and fight, which will break Susanna's heart a little more," Erik said, "She'll be torn, probably wish that she had left me earlier so that I wouldn't have corrupted Lorna like this. Then she'll stay in the compound until it's over, and then take the children home."

He shook his head.

"Probably," he said, "I don't know."

Charles swirled around his whiskey.

"What would you do in that situation?" asked Charles.

"Make sure that she's safe. I can live with her hating me as long as she's safe," Erik said, "She never deserved this."

It was his automatic response, one that he didn't even have to think about before saying.

"You can tell yourself that if you wish, but I don't think that that's the problem," sighed Charles.

"Enlighten me then," Erik snapped.

Charles put down his glass.

"You said that you were going to tell her that you're the man she saw the other night?" he asked.

"Of course," Erik said.

"Is that the correct answer, or the simple one that you feel obligated to give?" Charles asked.

Erik frowned.

"What are you saying?" he asked.

"I'm saying that you should probably think a little harder on that answer before you give it to her," said Charles, "Because from what you've told me, if you give her that answer in haste, it will break her heart. You won't be able to take it back."

He ran a hand through his hair.

"This may be difficult, but giving her the right answer rather than the one you feel will 'release' her will be better," Charles said, "It sounds like you love her very much. I've never been in a relationship like that, but I'd say that you shouldn't be afraid to fight for her."

Charles got up. He eyed his glass for a minute before downing the rest in one. Erik continued to stare at Charles uncertainly. He couldn't possibly be right about that. Nonetheless, it had planted a seed of doubt in his mind, a seed that was rapidly growing. Perhaps there was light in all of this, if only he looked for it.

Charles put his now-empty glass down.

"I have to go try out Cerebro," he said, "The invitation still stands."

Erik nodded and got up.

"Why not?" he said, "It'll give me time to think."