Erik :
Of all the Mutants they could have found to break him out, it had to be this one, did it? Surely there was some super-strong brute who could have done the same job, or a teleporter, anybody but this child who had from the moment they had met annoyed Erik so thoroughly that he had wanted nothing more but to belt him around the face and scream at him to shut up and calm down.
Nobody much spoke to you, when you were incarcerated in the Pentagon. Now and again they would check he was alive, but there was little in the way of conversation. That suited Erik just fine, having no wish to speak to the idiots who had him locked up in any case. However coming out of that silent world to this stream of babble was jarring in the extreme. He could not help thinking that he'd rather have had the neck injury the boy had reportedly protected him from than this psychological whiplash of suddenly being around someone who Could. Not. Be. Quiet.
Even when he had his answers to the questions he had pestered everyone with, he would soon grow distracted, change the subject, demand that they stop the car and get him something to eat, told it was a getaway vehicle and they could not simply stop for snacks and whining for almost an entire solid quarter hour about how hungry he was until at last Hank had agreed to stop.
And yet Erik had not loathed him. Had, in fact, been uncharacteristically tolerant all things considered. Perhaps another boy would have had his neck broken for being so flighty and noisy, but this boy – the one with the strangely familiar deep brown eyes and a smile that pulled at something in Erik's memory – escaped unscathed somehow. Erik had even thanked him for his efforts, something which did not come naturally to him at all. Felt he owed the boy a favour, and would not have been entirely sorry if he had decided to join them permanently.
For a short time, he had thought of the boy often. Considered asking Charles more about him, where he had found him and who his family were. Felt oddly like he should know him, though they had never met and were not likely to do so again. Did not ask, and dismissed his considerations at last for more pressing matters. When it had all been over, the boy with the face he felt he knew was all but forgotten. In the intervening years, he had far more to think about than a boy with familiar dark eyes.
He had been surprised to see him, on that battlefield in Cairo. Fully grown now and making a good show of seeming brave and professional, but again that stab of strange familiarity was there. Not only that, but a look in his eyes as if he was desperate to tell Erik something. Managed to ignore the boy again but then that scream of pain, immediately drawing his attention.
Erik did not understand until later why that shriek had rattled him so much, but it had tugged at his heart. He had not been able to see this boy get killed, wanted suddenly to rescue him from the pain that his foolish bravery had got him into. Gone without thinking to his aid, and realised why he had been there after all. The knowledge had been a slap in the face, emotions fighting within him – horror and regret for his actions, for not realising sooner, gratitude and joy for having him at last, anger for him having been hurt and self-recrimination for having forgotten him, for not recognising him sooner. Above all that, penetrating his being and guiding his hand, the need to save him.
Though finally returning in the jet, the boy had been in such pain and shock that he'd thrown up on Erik's shirt and passed out in his arms, he'd felt contented to have him there. Knew that whatever injuries he had sustained could be fixed, and that from now on things could change. That though he had much explaining to do and many bridges to build, he had too this boy. Watched his face as they had returned, curled a blanket around his slight frame and held him close for warmth, considering the favour repaid but the journey only just begun. Realised that when he had looked into that cheeky face he had seen his mother there, a woman long-abandoned whom he had not known had borne him a son.
So that was why he had not loathed the boy, despite how irritating he was. That was why he had put up with all his chatter and wished he would come back with them. He was not alone in this world. He had a son.