The man in the horn rimmed glasses watched intently through the glass viewing window as Erik Lensherr struggled against his bonds in the interrogation room, his eyes closed tightly in some sort of induced nightmare state.

Dr. Gerhardt Lipsch was also watching the scene intently from a chair in the half circle that was now formed between himself, Lensherr and the figure of a young woman bound and blindfolded in a chair across from the metal bender.

She was talking to Lensherr, soothing him in soft tones, and though Erik looked like every part of him was resisting, there was also a small look of peace and acceptance to his fate that lingered on his face.

And it was in that moment that a small smile formed on the former Nazi's lips, as it appeared that the dam the metal bender had built around his mind seemed to have finally sprung a leak.

# # # # #

Charles groaned as he turned from side to side on the soft in his study, shaking and sweating. He tried to open his eyes and will himself awake, but couldn't and the struggle to do so caused his eyelids to flutter and his eyeballs to roll into the back of his head as his body began to convulse. Even in his semi-conscious state, it appeared that something in his mind had taken a hold of him and would not let go.

"Erik..." he whispered without even realizing the words had crossed his lips

# # # # # #

"Erik… please…it's me. Let me in..." Raven's voice pleaded on the other side of the wooden door as Erik blinked and suddenly felt himself overwhelmed, seemingly against his will, with memories of him and Raven together—watching Charles kiss her temple before they led Erik on a tour of the mansion when they first arrived, watching Raven kiss Charles' forehead before leaving him on the beach in Cuba and taking Erik's hand, lying in bed with her smiling beneath him, dancing together in Prague as he twirled her in close and their noses and foreheads touched, her watching after him as he pulled his car out of the driveway of their safe house on the morning of November 22, 1963…

"Erik, don't give in…Remember that it isn't real," Charles suddenly spoke up, breaking the metalbender's thoughts as he turned his chair and rolled to the metal bender's side once more, "They are doing this to you—making you feel this way, not Raven. Be strong and resist. It isn't real. She isn't real…None of it is—"

"Except you, right?" Erik finished, then scoffed before closing his eyes in pain as he moved his eyes toward the door again, still seeming to struggle against his own will, "But, it feels real enough, Charles…" he continued in a whispered tone, his head still foggy with the memories as he absentmindedly brought his hand to his chest, "In here…"

Then suddenly, he surged forward as if on auto-pilot and started walking quickly to the door

"Erik…" Charles said quickly, raising his eyes to his friend as he took hold of his wrist to stop him, "Erik, no!"

"It's her, Charles—it's Raven…" Erik said, his voice sounding like a man possessed as he turned back and pulled his hand out of the telepath's grasp, then continued moving foward, "I'm sure of it...And she's all alone out there—"

"No she isn't…" Charles said under his breath, his voice breaking as he watched with sad eyes as Erik moved swiftly to open the study door and face the consequences on the other side.

# # # # # # #

A hotel cleaning cart came to a halt just outside room 421 and the older woman wielding it brought her hand to the door and knocked twice.

"Housekeeping," she said in a wise, steady voice, then pulled her hand back and listened.

When there wasn't a response, she knocked again, then spoke in a more raised tone, "Housekeeping."

She waited a few more moments before reaching down for the key ring on her belt and bringing it to the lock.

When the door opened, she looked briefly inside the dark and empty room and, when she saw no one, entered with one graceful turn, pulling the cleaning cart along behind her.

After the door had closed with a soft thud, she went to work picking up towels off of the floor near the bathroom door and tossing them under the cart, then grabbing fresh ones from the top and, holding them in one arm, used the rag in the other to wipe down the sink before placing the clean, folded towels down on the counter next to it where she knew the handsome young man who had occupied the room would be sure to find them.

He had checked in the night before and many of the younger maids and even the hotel desk clerk had remarked at his good looks and smile.

She thought she heard them mention his last name was Camden or something similar to that.

But, she didn't care about his looks or his smile or his charm.

She was an old woman, a widow, and years past her prime.

Her only concern was that he had fresh linens and towels and that perhaps he eat something—the only time she had seen him, walking down the hall to he elevator the previous evening, he looked skinny as a rail by a mother's standards.

The woman smiled at this thought as she now turned to the unmade bed and strode over to it, rounding the end and coming to the bed side table. She gently flipped the switch at the base of the lamp, turning off the light as she moved to the side of the bed and grabbed one of the pillows, removing the case from it before tossing it to foot of the mattress onto the pile of blankets there.

It was just as she reached for the second pillow that she thought she heard a soft rustling beneath her…

then realized that it was coming from underneath the bed.

The maid's breath caught in shock and she took a quick step away, still clutching the pillow to her chest with white knuckles, when she saw a figure quickly and quietly roll out from under the bed on the opposite side and streak soundlessly across the room to the open bay window before unlatching it.

Then suddenly, the figure turned back and young, green eyes met the older brown as two women now stood and stared for mere seconds at one another before the younger of the two threw open the window and dove out gracefully into the open air.

The older woman let out a soft shriek of surprise at the sight before scurrying quickly and curiously to the still open window and looking out, and then down, ten stories to the busy street and sidewalk below flooded with cars and people.

But, there was nothing else—least of all any sign that anyone had even leaped from the open hotel window.

At this realization, the old woman dropped the pillow to her feet and brought the hand that had once held it to the clutch the silver crucifix that now hung around her neck as her face paled.

She could have sworn that the young woman—if it was really a woman at all—was naked and completely blue.

# # # # # # #

Hank had just left the bustling dining room full of happy, chattering voices and started down the hall to the east wing of the mansion to check on Charles when the doorbell rang.

At the sound, he narrowed his eyes curiously and back-tracked from the end of the hallway toward the foyer and unlocked the door before opening it cautiously.

His eyes opened wide in shock and then softened when he beheld the familiar figure standing before him on the doorstep in the form of a young blonde dressed in a white blouse and red culottes.

"Raven," he whispered as he straightened and pulled the door open farther

"Hello, Hank…" Raven said in a soft voice, a small smile crossing her lips

Hank swallowed as they shared a mesmerized look for a few moments before he shook himself out of the trance and stepped back.

"What—what are you doing here?" he asked in an unsteady voice,

There was another silence before she took a step forward and met his gaze head on, her eyes showing a vulnerability and fear that Hank had never seen.

"Hank, I'm here to see Charles," she said in a worried tone, "I think something has happened."

"I—I don't—I don't think that…" Hank stuttered, shifting nervously before glancing over his shoulder, "He's not feeling too well right now, Raven. I don't think now is the time for visitors, let alone for him to see you… of all people…"

"Save the protection act, Beastie," Raven sighed, then gently pushed Hank out of the way as she walked past him across the threshold and into the mansion's foyer, "I don't have time to dance around Charles' mood swings. This is important. It's about—"

"Erik…" a familiar voice nearby finished and Hank and Raven immediately turned to see the exhausted and pale figure of Charles Xavier roll slowly forward in his wheelchair from the mouth of the hallway into the foyer, "It's about Erik."

"You know?" Raven asked, narrowing her eyes in shock and surprise

Charles closed his eyes and nodded weakly.

"Wait…" Hank said, coming to stand in the space between Raven and Charles, "What's exactly could have happened to Erik? He was just here. And how do either of you know anything about it in the first place?"

"Erik was here?" Raven asked, completely taken aback

"He came to see Charles yesterday evening," Hank replied

"That must have been where he was when I tried contacting him at our designated safe house last night" Raven continued " I tried several different time and when he didn't pick up the phone, I went home to find him gone. I tracked his whereabouts to a hotel here in New York, but when I got there, he was missing—"

"Well, Erik is a 'man of mystery'," Hank offered, rolling his eyes, "I hardly see how his being guilty of not staying in one place for longer than a day qualifies as him being 'Missing'—"

Suddenly he stopped when Raven met his gaze in an intent and forlorn stare as she pulled something from her pocket and upon seeing it, Charles breath caught.

"What?" Hank asked, looking back and forth between the two as if watching a tennis match, "What is it?"

"I found it in the alley outside of the hotel," Raven explained, closing her eyes to keep herself steady, "But, there was no other sign of him."

"Ummm…okay…" Hank said, staring at the item in Raven's hand, "It's a necklace."

"His star…" Charles whispered, rolling forward again, his eyes never leaving the small gold Star of David hanging from a chain that Raven now held up in her right hand, woven around her fingers, "It's not just any necklace, Hank, it was a gift from Erik's father. He gave it to Erik on his birthday…the day before they were sent to the concentration camp. Erik never took it off and would have never left it behind... It's true then…"

And he suddenly trailed off, the realization of his illness and his visions of the past hours suddenly sinking in with finite realization.

"What's true?" Raven asked narrowing her eyes, studying the telepath.

"I haven't been feeling well all day," Charles explained, "Dreadful in fact—overwhelming headaches, visions, and Erik's voice calling out to me—I should have realized what I saw wasn't just a dream or a hallucination brought on by illness or withdrawal, it was the connection between us…Erik and me…He needed my help and he reached out for it. He used my power to try to help himself..."

"But, why?" Hank interjected

"From flashes and what my subconscious allows me to remember, he was in a room somewhere—dark, cold and devoid of metal—and he was injured, trapped…" Charles stated in a low, worried, tone, his eyes meeting Raven's as he finally looked up and said what he knew it all meant, "I think he's in danger. I think someone has him—I think someone has Erik."