There's a bit of violence in this chapter. I don't think it's bad, but heads up just in case. My difficulty in this chapter was trying not to be redundant, so forgive me if I failed at it.

icanhearthedrums: Haha! I tried so hard to make Mystique moderately sympathetic when I first started writing her part and halfway through realized I'm pretty sure I'm incapable of it. Oh well. At least Emma is cool.

Sailor GaOn Donut: As long as you liked it, that's what matters. XD

MirrorFlower and DarkWind: Thanks! I wish I could've had this part with the last one but I didn't think having an 8000 word chapter would work. Oh well.

Palina98765: I'll take that as a good thing. Unsettling badass Charles wins everything.

Chapter 9b: You think you have the best of intentions, I can't shake the taste of blood in my mouth (Seether, "Country Song")

The satellite dish looked the same as it had since Erik had moved it all those years ago…back when Erik was Erik not Magneto. This used to be Charles' mental retreat, the place he'd go when the world and Onslaught got to be too much for him. Now, grass had grown up around the wall and weeds defaced the property in a way the Xavier estate outside of Charles' mindscape would never be allowed to reach. The sepia sky cast an eerie glow over the land, transforming the greenery to an odd shade bordering gold and brown.

While Charles stood at the crumbling wall, Onslaught meandered amongst the weeds, occasionally picking through them or kicking a piece of litter he found…litter that looked remarkably similar to the machine Magneto had tried to use to turn humans into mutants. Onslaught paused to give Charles a wary look. The scowl marring Charles' face didn't budge as he continued to glare at the satellite dish.

"Charles," Onslaught tried, skirting a perimeter around the other man.

"He's ruined everything," Charles said. "Everything that we worked for. I trained him, taught him how to harness his power. I let him go when he wanted to leave. I stayed out of his mind because he asked it of me. I kept you at bay when we could have snuffed him and his Brotherhood out like a match. And this is where it's brought us."

"You couldn't have known-"

"But I did know!" Charles' sharp sapphire eyes shifted to meet Onslaught's topaz ones. "You told me he would turn on us. You knew this would happen, which means I did too. I chose not to listen. I pushed my doubt and concern on you."

"As painful as it is for me to admit, neither of us knew he would go this far. He was our friend. We gave him the benefit of the doubt because…well…because he was Erik."

"And look where it got us," Charles scoffed, throwing an arm out over the overgrown field before them. "He doesn't know what he's done."

"That should make it better-"

"Yet somehow, it doesn't. That machine…if Phoenix commandeers it, which she will, and we can't get her to turn it off, we'll…" Charles trailed off.

"You know what we'll have to do. It's the only way."

Charles closed his eyes and dropped his head, defeat tumbling in the breeze that ruffled through his hair. Onslaught let the same breeze wash over him and picked up a tarnished gasket. As he turned it over in his hands, the wind ceased, leaving an eerie quiet in its wake. Charles' eyes were open again. He was the epitome of stoic determination outside of the glare he'd turned upon the rusting satellite.

"Yes, I suppose so. What's done is done. We cannot change the past. We can only face the future and try to make it better. Even if it means…"

He stalled out again. Onslaught didn't blame him. Sacrifices are so poignant and inspiring until you have to make them yourself. Copper clouds drifted in front of the sun.

"What about Erik?"

"What about him?" Charles responded, jaw tensed and eyes flashing. "Erik is gone. Magneto is all that's left and we have no room in our mind for concern for him. I have preparations to make if we are indeed to stop Phoenix."

Onslaught blinked and Charles was gone, leaving Onslaught to kick another metal shard. How rude. Guess the conversation hadn't suited him. The breeze picked up again. He stood in almost the exact spot Lehnsherr had stood to move the satellite, sorrow weighing the corners of his mouth. He'd never been sad before. He didn't like it. Even with the freedom Charles allowed him, he was still a slave to the things Charles didn't want to feel. He'd never be free of that. But it was worth the power it allowed them both, and power was surely what they would need if they were to put an end to Phoenix's plans.

And what glorious plans they were. Anger bubbled to the surface to mix with the sorrow. With a yell, he hurled the gasket as far as he could. It did nothing. He stood panting in frustration, leaning against the crumbling wall.

There was a tugging somewhere in his abdomen. That was odd. Before he could reach out to Charles, he was pulled away, his last vision the satellite that had somehow become a crumpled shadow of its former self.

Erik awoke in Westchester. He knew immediately that he hadn't woken at all. There was no other explanation for why else he was sitting upright in Charles' study. First, the last he remembered he'd been hurdling towards a wall, so the chances he was sitting up without pain weren't good. Second, and somehow more convincing, no way would Charles allow him access to his precious school after their last interaction.

But why had his mind taken him to Charles' office of all places? Moving slowly (he may not be in pain, but that didn't mean his brain wasn't telling him he should be), he began to stand. That was when he felt it. Freezing where he was, he looked towards the desk. He wasn't alone. The desk chair Charles' wheelchair usually replaced creaked as it turned to reveal the other occupant.

"Charles?"

The man, whose had been conducting an intense exploration of the room, whipped his head towards the voice. The wave of brown hair that fell over his forehead wasn't nearly long enough to hide the flame obscuring his pupils. Erik felt his chest give a couple of inches. The telepath abandoned his observation of the office and offered an apologetic smile.

"Not quite."

The office rippled and expanded. Books shimmered into sleek metal. Keys and levers popped up on the desk. Wild-eyed, Onslaught jumped to his feet with a quick inhale as the chair dropped a few inches and shrunk down to an innocuous, low-backed silver one.

Wide eyes flashing, Onslaught began, "Oh no, not-"

Before he could finish, a metal rafter slammed into his back, dropping him to his knees. The entity screamed (in Charles' voice, which still left a residual of panic in Erik's head), hand automatically going where the rafter had punched out the other side of his shoulder. He would've collapsed further forward if the rafter hadn't jammed itself into the floor, keeping him propped up like a grotesque crutch. The scream ended with a cough that left blood dribbling down his chin.

So distracted by Onslaught's predicament, Magneto only realized after the room had settled that he was standing with his arm outstretched. Just like he had been last time he'd met Onslaught back at Alkali Lake. And the Cerebro at Alkali Lake was undoubtedly where they were now.

"Was that really necessary?" Onslaught grit out through blood-stained teeth.

"Completely," Magneto said, pushing his wonder at the past two minutes behind his customary wall. "You should be dead."

"Yes, well, you know what they say, what doesn't kill you and all that." He tried to pull himself back, only to wince and fall forward again. "Really, though, I think this is a bit of an overreaction."

"I disagree," Magneto said, looking up to find the structure just as he remembered. "In fact, perhaps I should add another." Another rafter began shaking.

"You aren't going to kill me here if that's what you're trying to do," Onslaught said quickly, eyeing the rafter as best he could from his kneeling position. "And, at the risk of being skewered again, I feel obligated to note that you didn't kill me last time either."

"Maybe not, but it looks like I can cause you considerable pain." The rafter shook harder.

"Okay, okay, calm down," the entity said, raising an appeasing hand. "What do you want from me?"

That…was a good question. Now that he had Onslaught at his mercy, knelt before him (as he should be), his mind rushed to organize his questions. He had Onslaught at bay, but there was no guarantee he'd have the advantage for long.

"How are you here? How is it that you didn't die last time?"

"If I answer you, can you take us back to my office? I much prefer it to our current setting."

"Your office?"

Onslaught rolled his eyes. "That's what you took from that statement? Fine, Charles' office."

"What makes you think I can take us back? You're the telepath."

"Because this is clearly your doing. Why on earth would I bring us back here and stick myself through the shoulder? Unless you want me to violate your precious mind, which I believe you prefer to avoid, you need to control yourself and get us out of here."

Not violating his mind? That didn't sound like Onslaught at all. Come to think of it, he hadn't felt anyone pawing around at his thoughts (though with a telepath as powerful as Onslaught, that might not mean anything). Still, he did prefer Charles' office to the cold memory of Alkali Lake.

"How do I get us back?" he asked, a bit more hesitantly than he'd have liked.

"Think about it. It didn't take much to get us here, after all."

Glowering at Onslaught one last time for good measure, he closed his eyes and pictured Charles' office. He felt a wave of warmth and sensed the more enclosed space of a room. Huh, guess it was exactly as easy as Charles' other half made it out to be.

Onslaught screamed again. With a smirk, Erik opened his eyes and sat down, casually crossing his legs.

"Better?"

They were back in the exact positions they'd been in before the shift to Alkali Lake. The only difference was the rafter that now projected through the Queen Anne chair, anchored to the wall and sticking out a solid three feet over the desk from Onslaught's shoulder.

"Oh, you bastard," Onslaught said, eyes squeezed shut as he panted in pain. "You make yourself really hard to like, you know?"

"Good thing I'm not trying to earn your friendship. I did as you asked. Now answer my question. How are you here?"

Onslaught let out a sharp laugh and took a few deep breaths, his gaze danced around again. Odd. Another couple of breaths and a wet cough to clear his throat and Onslaught smoothed over whatever he'd been feeling.

"The remnants of your team brought you to the only safe haven they could think of. That's Westchester, if you didn't guess," he said briefly pausing to meet Magneto's gaze before shifting and returning to his surreptitious appraisal of the room, poking at the papers at the desk. "Your helmet is presently," a calculating pause, "ten feet from the bed you're occupying in our infirmary. Your head is perfectly open to telepathic attack. It's a miracle some unsavory character hasn't found his or her way in yet." He finished with a smirk, but avoided eye contact.

Magneto waited for more, but that appeared to be as much as he was going to get on that topic. "How do you exist? We've established that I didn't kill you, but that doesn't change the fact that you should be dead."

Onslaught winced again then finally gave up on trying to make himself comfortable on the rafter impaling him. "It's really not that difficult to put together. Emma did rather quickly and the rest of the X-Men accepted it…eventually. You account for every detail in your missions; are you telling me you've put no thought at all into how I might still exist?" The glint of superiority was back in his eye.

As a matter of fact, Magneto had put some thought into it. Between Phoenix and the Brotherhood's increased presence in the media, though, he hadn't had much time devote to the entity's continued existence. And, if Magneto was completely honest with himself, it was easier to be angry with Charles. Anger was always the easier option. So, yes, he had thought about it however briefly, but, no, he hadn't come up with a solution despite the fact that Frost had apparently had the solution all along.

With a flick of his wrist, the rafter began twisting. Just a smidge, but enough for Onslaught's hands to shoot back up to it with a wince.

"Enlighten me."

"Ah, ah, fine!" The pressure on the rafter lifted and Onslaught relaxed again, catching his breath. "As long as Charles exists, so do I. If you want to kill me, you have to kill him as well and I think we both know you want to avoid that, despite your actions as of late."

That was unexpected. No wonder Charles had kept the information to himself. Though the fact that he did was just another sign of the distrust that had grown between them. As if Erik would do anything to endanger Charles…other than allow Phoenix to gain enough power to nearly disintegrate him.

"So at Alkali Lake…"

"When you thought you'd killed me, I went back into his head. He kept me a secret, rightly so it seems judging by your penchant for using powerful mutants for your own means. We've come to an understanding of sorts and we've been working together ever since."

That sounded right, but it didn't make sense. Not for Charles. "He wouldn't just accept you. You killed all those people-"

"And he was very cross with me for it, but it seems that there are more immediate problems than dealing with my homicidal tendencies. I think he lobs those off on the part of me that's you anyway. He tends to blame you for a great many things nowadays."

Ah, yes, the part of Onslaught that was Magneto. Wasn't that a nice little reminder that Charles' darker half was made up in part by his mind. He tainted Charles even when they were apart, just as Charles tainted him by giving him a conscience.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, suddenly tired of the game they were playing.

Onslaught shrugged with his good shoulder. "You tell me. This is your creation."

There was that unease again, except now Erik could pinpoint the subtleties of the telepath's behavior that he'd been having difficulty identifying before. He was…bewildered. Erik marveled at that for a moment. The look of smug confidence that usually graced the entity's features was stained with hints of the disquiet Erik had noticed earlier as he took in the familiar-yet-not surroundings. For what must have been only the third time in his existence (behind his defeats in Cuba and Alkali Lake), Onslaught looked to be taken off guard.

Taken off guard because he hadn't come into Erik's mind on purpose.

"You're telling me that I pulled you into my head?"

"That is exactly what I'm telling you," Onslaught replied. "Now that we've determined that I'm here by no fault of my own, could we get rid of this?" He gestured at the rafter. "I've been very, very cooperative. I'm not going to fight you."

It was true. Onslaught had been very cooperative and Magneto could always put it right back where it had been before. With a thought and a swish of his hand for effect, the rafter was gone. Onslaught slumped forward, holding the now healed area where he'd been stabbed.

"Oh, that's so much better." He sat up again, still massaging his shoulder. Now that the pain was fading, Charles' natural curiosity was peeking through his eyes. "How did you do it? How did you manage to get me here? Neither Charles nor I were reaching out for you."

"I have no idea," Erik said with a shake of his head. But now that he thought about it-

"Oh, come now, you're a smart boy," Onslaught said. Funny how much more haughty the being was now that he wasn't impaled on a piece of metal. "Surely, you've thought of something."

Erik glared. He should've kept the rafter in. Could he trust this…creature enough to tell him what was going through his mind?

Onslaught raised an eyebrow. "You can tell me. I won't tell a soul. Cross my heart and hope to die." He made a cross symbol over his heart.

"Fine. You said yourself that I have more psionic energy than the average non-telepath. Beast said we were bonded somehow when you first manifested, which I'm sure you're aware of from Charles. You were able to use my powers until Charles' telekinesis took over. Why shouldn't I be able to use yours, if we truly do share some type of bond and I have the psionic energy to do so?"

Onslaught sat forward, expression hazy with thought, before nodding. "I suppose that makes sense," he said to himself. His gaze grew distant again. Then he snapped back to the present, sitting up straight as a pin. "That's very interesting indeed. This certainly..." he stopped and gave Erik an appraising once over, the look Mystique gave when he was deciding whether to trust someone. "Well, it makes a difference."

Erik frowned. There was a beat where he felt like he should ask for clarification, but the words to do so remained frustratingly out of reach.

"Really, though," Onslaught started, "why did you bring me here? It's a bit unsettling being pulled out of my head."

"Welcome to the club," Magneto retorted, earning a wry smile. Seeing Charles' visage in front of him and Onslaught being virtually amiable…it was making the guilt he felt for having abandoned the man resurface again full force. Speaking of which…

"Charles is alright, I presume." He hadn't actually seen or heard from his friend since the telepath had nearly been killed. He was still angry, but now that he'd actually met Onslaught…something was different.

"He's fine. Deep in thought for the time being." The bewilderment was gone, replaced by confidence once more as Onslaught apparently gained his sea legs. Or mind legs. Whatever. "But he's furious with you," he continued, leaning back in the chair as he propped his legs up on the edge of the desk. "And this time he didn't put it on me. He kept it all for himself. Didn't even leave me a little bit of a grudge to hold. I want to forgive you. It's very annoying, especially after that little show." He gestured to where the rafter had stabbed him.

"What are you talking about?" Magneto asked, making his annoyance clear in his tone.

"I didn't notice it until you made your triumphant return," Onslaught said with a flourish at the end.

And now his annoyance was rapidly turning back into anger. "Notice what?"

"We're switching places, Erik." The name was sneered though there was no real malice behind it. Most startling was that it was the first time Erik could recall that the entity hadn't referred to him as 'Magneto'. "But not because I'm taking over him. Not this time. This time, he's choosing to become me." Onslaught's face dropped somewhat, like he was realizing the meaning behind what he was saying for the first time. "He's accepting all the negative feelings he used to push off on me and giving me all the forgiveness he usually keeps for himself."

That…wasn't good. That sounded like Charles was losing himself to anger and hatred. That was Erik's job, Onslaught's job. It was never meant for Charles. "What does that mean for Charles?"

"Charles?! What does that mean for me? Am I going to be…nice? Civil? What kind of a life is that?" Comical horror spread on Onslaught's face.

"You could stand to be a bit less sociopathic."

"Of course you'd think that, but, as you said, what does that mean for dear Charles? If I'm less sociopathic, it's got to go somewhere." Onslaught's eyes glittered in amusement. "And let me tell you, you do not want me to stay the way I am now. I am everything Charles doesn't want to be. And right now, that includes being your friend.

"What?" Erik had always always been the one to reject Charles. He was the one to leave. Charles was the first to make moves to reconcile after their break and after most of their fights since. Magneto was a result of Erik's rejection of his friend. But all through that, Charles had kept a modicum of hope, something that kept him coming back to Erik, forgiving him, and offering him the friendship Erik had come to value. Erik was certainly still angry at Charles, but the thought that Charles would be the one to give up, that Charles would be the one to reject him, was unacceptable.

"You heard me. He's not letting it go. He's pushed all his desire to seek forgiveness to me and kept all his anger for himself. You left him after he almost died, took his student, who is for all intents and purposes Alex Summers' sister-in-law by the way so be wary of him and Scott, and created a machine Phoenix is probably about to use to end the world. You've destroyed everything we've worked for and nearly destroyed us in the process without even blinking. Did you really think he'd just putter about writing lesson plans, preparing to accept your apology after Phoenix's inevitable betrayal? You and I have had far too much of an influence on him to let that happen, thank you very much."

"This wasn't part of the plan. She could've changed things once and for all if she hadn't betrayed me. Charles could have-"

The chair squeaked as Onslaught leaned across the desk.

"She is going to change things once and for all, just not the way you planned it. At some point, you're going to have to take responsibility for your failed plans. You've started something, Erik. Something we don't know if we can fix. Even if we can...the price may be higher than you'd like. If you want to prove to him that you aren't the character you've been playing for the past few months, you need to be prepared to use whatever power you have when the time comes."

Metal slammed Onslaught back into the chair as Erik rose to his feet. "And what does that mean?"

"Whatever you make of it," the entity said, unphased. "This ability to connect with our mind...as I said, it's an interesting development. Ah, there," Onslaught grinned while Erik felt a jolt that faded to a tingle in his head, "I knew I'd be able to find the little pathway you followed to get me here. I'll be going back to my own head now. Be careful not to let Charles hurt you when you come crawling back to us. I'm sure he'd be ever so upset later on if he does and I don't like dealing with the headaches that gives us."

With that, Onslaught was gone and Erik was alone.

He snapped his eyes shut, feeling out his mental surroundings. It was surprisingly easy to find the pathway between himself and Charles that he'd unknowingly created, followed, used, whatever. It was still intact, sparkling bright gold in a mire of grey. Erik had an open invitation into Charles' head it seemed. He tried to follow it only to hit a wall. So Onslaught had closed the door, but left the pathway up to it unimpeded. Erik knew Onslaught and Charles well enough by now to know that they didn't do anything without reason. Either they couldn't destroy the link or they wanted to use it later.

Erik felt himself shiver, then a twinge of pain in his side. He was starting to wake up. He committed the gold line to memory. It should scare him, the fact that Charles had a link to his mind that he could open any time he wanted. It should, but somehow it didn't. In fact, it almost made him feel...hopeful. Interesting. Very interesting indeed.

Not sure how long it'll be until the next chapter. I have to reconfigure some stuff to make sure what I wrote 1-2 years ago matches up with where this has gone plus I start up my semester soon. I'll do my best though. Reviews might help. ;)

References: Nothing from the movies or comics that I'm aware of putting in there. A couple of references to previous stories in the series (Onslaught telling Erik he had more psionic energy than most non-telepaths being the biggest).