A/N: Phew! It took me a couple of days longer than I wished but now the new update is FINALLY here. My summer vacation is almost over so after this week the updates SHOULD get a bit more regular once more. Yay?

First, though… Huge thank yous for those lovely reviews, listing and simply for hanging in there with this story! Even after the loooooooooooong wait. (BEAMS) You're precious!
Awkay, before I get all mushy… Let's go! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride.


Seeing Ghosts


Charles expected almost anything when the search for the mystery mutant called Azazel began. Based on Stryker's words they were after someone highly dangerous. He honestly anticipated it to become the most challenging journey yet.

He didn't expect to trace the mutant to a hospital.

Charles frowned but didn't dare to search further in fear of alerting the other of his presence. A quick, subtle brush hinted towards a isolated corner of the building. The thoughts he found were those of a security guard standing behind a white door. A frown appeared to his face.

Reluctantly he announced the information to his companions. They exchanged looks before Stryker disappeared to make a phone call. The man appeared after about fifteen minutes. "I just spoke to… a friend of mine unofficially. Apparently this mutant was injured during the latest incident a few hours ago, almost right after you tracked him. He was caught attacking a government building. Four agents died and the mutant itself received several injuries."

Something very uncomfortable shifted in the bottom of Charles' stomach while he nodded. Careful to do it so that the others didn't notice he risked to reach out further. Upon closer inspection Azazel's mind felt sluggish and unfocused. Fogged by pain and medication. Just how badly had the mutant been injured?

Charles gritted his teeth, his thoughts whirring madly. In the end he looked towards his companions. "I want to go to him alone."

A somewhat unpleasant look appeared to Stryker's eyes. "You know that I can't allow that." The agent was already heading towards the small, highly classified government base's door. "Now let's go. We can't risk losing the traces of him again."

Less than twenty minutes later found them from the hospital. As soon as they made it there Stryker headed somewhere with several of his men, most likely to find a doctor. Charles was left with a young agent who, based on his appearance, could've been his younger brother. Clearly forgetting that he was in the presence of a telepath the agent lifted his helmet to scratch his head. Lifted it just enough to provide an opening.

Charles hated himself a little for it but it was also his only option. He needed to see Azazel for himself before allowing the agents to barge in with their drug. That's why he reached out, sent the agent a suggestion that perhaps they should take a head start. That perhaps it was a good idea for him to go into the room alone, after all. The agent's mind accepted it without any complaints.

As soon as Azazel's room came to sight Charles shivered at the sight of a guard stood outside the door. Apparently the mutant was still considered dangerous, then. A quick scan revealed that there was another guard inside the room. Neither of them wore a helmet and this time the telepath didn't hesitate to take advantage of the situation. It was only a matter of time before Stryker and his men would reach them.

All resolve Charles had found nearly broke when he actually entered the room. Azazel lay perfectly still, eyes closed, and it took a closer inspection to detect that indeed, the other was still alive. The injuries were even more extensive than his former, brief scan revealed. Would Azazel even be able to handle the drug, the change? Charles' very heart shuddered at the thought.

What the hell were they doing?!

Then those bleary eyes opened halfway, finding him even if not really seeing. Charles swallowed loudly and approached with heavy, reluctant steps. "Azazel, listen to me", he coaxed, trying not to use his gifts for the persuasion. What he was doing now was already unforgivable enough. "I'm truly sorry for doing this to you, especially when you're injured. But at the moment this is the only way." He took a deep breath, feeling a ton's weight landing to his shoulders. "What you've done… It's horrible. But I'll do whatever I can to make sure that you're treated fairly. Keep calm, don't provoke them, and I'll try everything I can." His mind outstretched, sending a one more I'm sorry. He hoped, from the bottom of his heart, that other other heard and comprehended.

Azazel looked at him long and hard, appearing confused. It took a little too long before the words came, slurred by heavy medication. "Charles…?" The red skinned mutant licked his lips. "… thought you're dead …"

Charles blinked twice while a tremor crossed him. What…? "Why would you think so?"

It was unclear if Azazel heard him. The mutant's eyes seemed a bit clearer, though. "Magneto's been… looking for you…"

That name struck Charles like a bolt of lightning, filled him with something that couldn't be described with words. It also seemed that Azazel had something more to say. But before he managed to process what overcame him or his red skinned companion was able to finish the room's door opened and Stryker marched in with his men. It didn't take any of his abilities to detect that the man wasn't happy.

"Didn't I already tell you that going alone wasn't acceptable?" Stryker snarled. The agent's eyes then fell on the badly injured mutant, flashed a little. "But well, in the end you found what we were looking for. So let's continue with the project."

A woman who looked a lot like a doctor stepped forward, a needle prepared. Azazel was too out of it to understand the danger but Charles was acutely aware. The red skin was pierced long before the PLEASE DON'T! screaming in the telepath's head could be voiced.

The changes took only seconds to appear. At first Azazel moaned and shifted with evident discomfort, seeming to be in a considerable amount of pain. The red shade of the skin kept fading and fading until a natural color was all there was left. Suddenly the demon like mutant appeared perfectly human before him, the paleness of his face intensified by his black hair and a pair of dark confused, stunned and angry eyes darting around, screaming for answers.

At that point Charles turned around and left the room, using all his willpower to maintain even a hint of his composure. Perhaps he was weak, or a coward. But the wave of guilt and sorrow swelling inside him was too much to bear.


Erik's small, dysfunctional group functioned efficiently for once, all of them focused on a single goal. According to their so called leader's command they prepared for leaving New York and settled for an uneasy wait. Yet suspicion kept lurking somewhere in the backs of their heads. Some of their guesses were confirmed when all of a sudden the phone rang and Erik closed into the bedroom for the conversation.

While the others busied themselves with nervous chatter Hank made his way towards the bedroom's door. Upon inching it just a little bit open he was pleased to discover that it didn't make a sound. Erik's voice was low, nearly a growl, but he heard nonetheless.

"… which ward?…" There was a brief, frosty pause. "Yes, I'll be there in a few minutes."

The phone call ended so abruptly that Hank wasn't quite prepared. Erik turned and saw him instantly. For a few seconds they sized up one another, both stiff and on alert.

In the end it was Erik who spoke. "Tell the others that our departure has delayed slightly. There's something urgent I need to take care of."

Hank gritted his teeth. Worry and irritation bit like a thorn at his side. "Something more important than Charles?"

The glare he received spoke volumes.

Hank frowned while staring bravely at the older mutant. "Where are you going?" He asked although he already knew that he wouldn't receive a response.

Erik gave him a dry look. "Nowhere that'd concern you in any way", the metal bender bit out, already heading out. "Wait here. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"And if you don't return?"

Erik stood still for a second before grunting out. "Then make sure that you tell Charles I'm sorry when you take him home." The sound of the door closing was a lot louder than it should've been.


By the time they were finally ready to leave New York behind a couple of hours after entering the hospital Charles had managed to develop a massive headache. It wasn't helped at all by the new confusion spinning around in his mind. He couldn't push Azazel's words out of his head.

There was a intense burning that he immediately recognized as longing swelling in his chest. And this time it didn't have anything to do with the fact that he had to go back to his tiny room, sealed away from the world. He kept glancing around while he was escorted away, like he'd been waiting for someone.

Little did he know, that someone was closer than he thought.


Laying low and keeping it quiet weren't exactly Erik's territory. But unlike most assumed he could do subtle when the situation called for it. He made it through the hospital unnoticed and quickly, entirely too familiar with the fact that there seemed to be agents swarming around. Adrenaline and something akin to worry swirled in his veins.

Also unlike many assumed he did have contacts, albeit not quite friends, and one of them, a nurse who'd never harmed a soul in her life, just informed him of a newly arrived patient he knew entirely too well. Azazel had been injured, badly. Apparently someone had already made a phone call and the government was quickly closing in on the red skinned mutant.

Erik's fears were confirmed when Azazel's room came to sight. He'd been too late. There were several security guards outside the door and without a doubt a group of agents inside.

Erik had a few moments to choose his next course of action. He could've fought all those agents to get to Azazel. Chances were that he would've been able to gain the upper hand. But he wasn't sure if Azazel was in such a condition that would've allowed him to take the red skinned mutant along. Healthy caution and something he couldn't explain were holding him back.

At that very moment Erik's gaze turned for a reason he couldn't comprehend and what he saw made his heart skip a couple of beats.

There, on the other side of a hopelessly long hallway, was none other than Charles. Pale and clearly exhausted but very much alive. Right before his eyes yet so far away.

"Charles!" he cried out at the top of his lungs, charging forward. He didn't even notice how everything metallic clattered around him. His heart was hammering furiously.

He couldn't let Charles slip away like this again, not when they were only steps away from each other.

"CHARLES!"

The telepath stopped with a visible shudder. Began to turn painfully slowly. That was when Erik felt a hard hand on his shoulder. Turning his head with a vicious snarl he found three security guards glaring back.

"Okay, buddy", one of them half growled. "This is a hospital, alright? Come with us quietly and this will all end well."

Erik glared, then sent a one more desperate look towards Charles. Only seconds and their eyes would've met. His focus returned momentarily to the guards. He wasn't about to let them drag him away from the telepath, not when he was this close. "For your own good, leave me alone", he hissed.


Something other than the actual shout caught Charles' attention. It was a small, oddly familiar and slightly painful pulse in the back of the telepath's head. A scream. A call. One that he found himself unable to ignore.

Slowly, as though afraid, he turned around. The first thing he noticed was the guards, along with several metallic objects floating around violently. That alone would've been stunning, if not even terrifying. Yet something else entirely stole his focus completely.

There, in the centre of the mess, stood a man with his back towards him. That hair… That posture… Didn't he know that person?

Charles' breath caught. His heart made a movement that didn't feel stritctly healthy but he barely noticed. "... Erik ..."

He didn't even realize that he'd spoken, or thought, out loud. Yet the man stiffened, beginning to turn towards him. Charles never got the chance to see how it would've all turned out.

His team had reached the elevator, seemingly oblivious to the havoc at the other end of the hallway. He knew that he should've informed them of another, potentially dangerous mutant's presence. But as it was he could barely breathe.

Less than a blink before he would've seen the other's face clearly, before their eyes would've met, the elevator's doors closed. Separating him from the stranger. Charles couldn't understand the tears that wanted to fall.


Erik felt like someone had plunged a blade right through his heart as he stared at the doors that sealed Charles from his sight. He wanted to tear them open with everything there was in him, to make sure that the telepath would never be snatched away from him like this again. But as it was he didn't have the opportunity to act at the moment.

Because as it turned out one of the guards imagined that it was a good idea to fire a gun at him. He noticed as much, of course. A single flick of a wrist later the bullet flew harmlessly at a wall, narrowly missing one of the guards.

Erik wanted to sink the entire thing into the bodies of one of those idiotic three, he really did, but the ghost of Charles' feel in his mind controlled him.

His eyes narrowed hazardously while he glared at the trio, taking a threatening step forward. Seeing their blanched faces offered a hint of twisted pleasure. "Trust me…", he hissed through his teeth. "Don't."

He didn't leave it at words, either. The simplest of movements, a hint of concentration, and the three of them flew backwards in a spectacular manner. The metal around him was hissing, moaning and trembling with anticipation, answering to the calls of his mind. The guards' guns were beginning to gain a unrecognizeable shape under his wrath.

All of his rage… All of his frustration… He let it all flow.

Until the sound of approaching steps.

"Well, well, well. Isn't it Erik Lehnsherr himself? Or should I call you Magneto? Azazel was a good catch. But being able to capture the grand prize… Now that's a pleasant surprise." It was stunning, really, that all it took to cut the attack short was a voice. It was smooth and deviously calm. "Make a move against them or me… and you'll regret it for the rest of the short life you'd have."

Erik spun around, his eyes flaming and raging. There was so much metal within his reach… "Why would I regret it?" he growled back.

The look on Stryker's face didn't change for even a second. "Because I have several of my men accompanying Charles at this very moment. They have direct orders to execute him the second any harm comes to me or other humans here."

Absolutely everything inside Erik went painfully cold. Whatever little grip he'd had on the metal around him was lost and his heart took an unhealthy rhythm. It wasn't until after several seconds he dared to trust his voice. "What makes you imagine that his fate would concern me?"

Stryker shrugged. "Simple, really. You weren't exactly in a private location on that Cuban beach, remember? Several pairs of eyes were keeping an eye on you, especially since you had a storm of missiles directed at those ships. I've received direct reports that as soon as Charles was injured every last missile dropped to the ocean and all your focus was on him. Rather poetic, really."

It took a considerable amount of willpower to keep the hurricane of emotions that rose from showing. Every single cell in Erik's body craved to grab the metal around him and…"You should just kill me right here. Because there's no way I'll ever do a single thing for you. You already tried to end my life once, remember?"

Stryker smiled. "I'm beginning to see that I may have been a bit too hasty with my decision to terminate you. Now, at this point you have two options. Either you come with me and do as I tell you, or the next time you see Charles he's dead. So will you come? There's a car waiting for us."


TBC


A/N: So now Stryker's got both Erik and Charles. And what can Erik do, when a single wrong move would result in the death of our favorite telepath? (winces) But hopefully he'll, at very least, will be able to help Charles regain his memories.

Soooo… How was that? Good? Bad? Luke warm? Please do leave a note to let me know before you go! It'd mean a lot to me.

I've really gotta dash now. (pouts) Until next time, you all! 'Hope you'll all join in for that one.

Take care!