AN: Here is part 12 - not currently checked by my beta, so apologies for any mistakes.

Please let me know what you think!


Chapter 12 – Bonds

Erik's calm shatters as Schmidt's gaze falls upon Charles. No. Charles was not supposed to be here. Why did he not ensure the strength of those bindings? If he had then Charles would never have broken free in time...he would not have been on the jet, he would not be here...

"Liebling Liebling Charles," Schmidt smiles with mock fondness in his eyes, "You were always so quiet, I suspect you've quite the mental reach hmm?"

A soft gasp escapes the young professor's lips his face paling as sharp pained memories flooding back into his mind. Realising what is happening Erik snaps out his palm, and the smug grin on the diamond telepath's face breaks off into a choked gasp. Schmidt's smile widens at the anger in the metal manipulator's features.

You are not that boy anymore – neither am I. We are no longer defenceless against him Charles, Erik projects fiercely and his mind envelopes the younger man's in a protective shield. Shaw watches with a widening smile as Emma slumps to the floor clawing at her throat. Seeing Schmidt's amusement the metal manipulator stops his torture, and the diamond telepath draws in grateful gasps of air, her rattling breath echoing in the sudden quiet.

"Ah Erik I thought we had grown beyond such weaknesses," Schmidt smirks. The metal manipulator shakes his head, "I won't harm my own kind for your enjoyment." Herr Doktor's smile deepens, "Why should I care? She has become a liability...and I'd much rather be reunited with my liebchen."

Schmidt smiles extending his arm, "Come my children we can do this the easy or the hard way."

"And the people at the CIA base?" Charles demands. Schmidt laughs, "Lets just say I put them out of their misery." Riptide suddenly pitches forwards, collapsing in a silent heap upon the ground and though Azazel's expression gives nothing away, Erik can feel his sudden tension as the warrior's grip tightens on his blades. "Out of their misery?" Charles repeats sharply, "what gives you the right to judge?" Schmidt's expression shifts to a frown, "You cannot tell me you cared for them? Those pathetic humans are not your kin Charles." Schmidt gives a slow smile, "Erik knows the truth."

Charles glances up at the metal manipulator and a betrayed look crosses his features, Erik? You agree with him? Green eyes lock with questioning blue, Charles - we can discuss this later. You know how he works. He is trying to divide us. The younger man shakes his head, but you believe that human lives are not of the same value as our own?

Watching the silent argument Schmidt glances at the red mutant awaiting his orders, "Azazel why don't you escort Charles back to our base? I'm sure he'll come round after a while." His words take a moment to filter - but even as Azazel darts forwards Erik is quicker, and the red mutant's swords turn swiftly upon him holding him at bay.

"You think that I will just let you take him?" Erik snarls his arm suddenly locking around Charles's throat in the perfect facade of resolute fury. Calm yourself, he mentally orders the startled telepath. Something flickers in Schmidt's eyes, "My dear Erik surely you don't think I would harm either one of you. What I do is for the benefit of our kind."

"Such as killing my mother?" Erik demands, "she was a pathetic human afterall." Schmidt shakes his head, "Erik I truly am sorry for that. Your mother was a remarkable woman. She was sentenced for the camps…and I could only save one of you." So reasonable the slide of oil from Schmidt's tongue.

"And if I had moved the coin? Was it all just another trick?" Erik demands angrily. Schmidt's expression softens into seeming remorse, "you've seen first hand what they will do to each other in the name of war. How long do you think it will be until they turn upon you?" His voice softens, "should you succeed in defeating me you only set yourselves up as the next target. You know this Erik. I only wish to build a world where our people are safe."

"No you wish to rule," Charles hisses, struggling in Erik's sudden restraining grip. Schmidt shrugs, "I only wish for my knowledge and wisdom to be used for the benefit of our kind. How else can I better do that?" The younger telepath's eyes glow, "Benefit? You would shape us into monsters."

Around them items begin to lift off the ground accompanied by a low rushing howl of wind. Azazel snags Schmidt's hand, and manages to grab Riptide vanishing in a cloud of red smoke just as Moira bursts in. The agent coughs, waving her arms at the stench of sulphur. She holds up her hand stopping the men behind her as she observes the metal manipulator holding Charles tightly, whispering urgent soft words in his ears - around them in a perfect shielding circle hovers glittering particles of...dust?

Charles's eyes snap open, glowing a beautiful luminescent blue and then as he collapses everything clatters noisily to the ground.

Wisely Moira makes no comment, chosing to focus her attention on the blond woman lying unconscious on the floor. Dark marks line her throat, and wrists as though she has been strangled...and the bed posts appear to have been ripped apart. The agent swallows a sharp anger, glancing up at the metal manipulator holding Charles so carefully. Yet Erik thinks nothing of torturing this woman without remorse?

He meets her gaze, and lifts his free hand up - a casual enough gesture on anyone else and yet the blond female's breath begins to falter as the metal band around her neck tightens once more.

Moira leaps to her feet, stepping between them, "Stop." Erik frowns, "Moira get out of my way." She shakes her head resolutely, "No this woman is a prisoner of the United States, and as such she is subject to our laws and protection."

"She is a poisonous snake who will think nothing of tearing your mind apart in her vicious schemes," he responds darkly, "I won't ask you again - step aside."

Moira holds her position. "What is going on?" Langley asks carefully as the soldiers fall in line. How long do you think it will be before they turn upon you? Schmidt's voice echoes mockingly in Erik's head. Moira holds up her hand, "Nothing," she calls back, her urgent gaze desperate as she looks back to Erik, "Don't do this Erik."

A soft groan has them both looking upon the smaller man, his blue eyes shattering open wearily. "Erik? Moira?" Charles asks not a little confusedly taking in the tense scene. Erik why are we surrounded by our allies? I really think you need to work on your diplomacy skills. "She is a greater threat to us alive Charles," Erik answers out loud his voice spreading to Langley's reach. "Even if we make it back with her - what cell do you have that will hold her? Schmidt left her behind deliberately, do you think your precious secrets will be safe from her reach?"

She is one of us Erik, just as badly shaped by Schmidt. He's just had longer to work with her, Charles states quietly. Erik looks upon the younger man with a frown, she is nothing like us Charles. She chose to remain by Schmidt's side. Charles closes his eyes, You don't know that. You don't know what hold he has over her. If that were me lying there what would you do?

Erik does not answer, and Charles exhales sharply turning away, marching out on shaky feet through the group of armed men, out into the quiet silent air. With a frustrated sigh Erik runs after him, stopping as he observes the lone figure leaning against the shattered doorway. He tries mentally reaching out to the smaller man through their connection but feels a wall. Charles has blocked him out.

If that were me lying there what would you do?

How could Charles even ask him that? He would never allow Charles to get to that situation in the first place. He would do anything for the floppy haired professor, for his blue eyed childhood friend, his soulmate.


The plane journey back is fraught with unspoken tension.

Charles has not spoken a word to Erik since storming out the Russian villa, and the metal manipulator is filled with a righteous anger. Moira observes but does not intervene, for now Erik has not made a single action against their prisoner, and she will be damned if she provokes him.


The CIA base is a demolition wreck, a crumbled ruin of a blood bath. It seems a miracle that anyone has been left alive. Even Erik is shaken by how much gore lines the walls.

Moira witnesses the sharp anguish that crosses the telepath's face.

Erik silently enfolds the younger man in his arms hating the aching pain in his heart. He wants nothing more than to tear apart the one who has driven Charles to such aching despair.

I can feel them Erik...their 'ghosts' linger, and echoes remain. There is such pain...such fear, Charles muffles a quiet sob burying his face in his chest. Erik holds him tighter. They are safe Charles far away from here, the metal manipulator soothes, wiping the glistening tears from those beautiful blue eyes, "Schmidt will pay." He murmurs softly, "Schmidt will pay."

The Director is thankful at Erik returning to help out with the mission, and pleased by the capture of the diamond telepath. Moira has to fight the silly notion to point out that Charles is standing right in front of him. An amused quirk tilts the smaller man's lips at her frustration, and she glowers sharply at him. "Moira what are you doing?" The Director asks curiously, breaking off in his discussion with Erik. "I'm sorry sir, just something in my eye," she murmurs rubbing her face whilst mentally berating the telepath. I think you're enjoying this a little too much, she scolds.

Charles is only half listening when he picks up a very familiar essence. He stops, leaving the three to go on ahead, and it takes a moment before Erik realises he is not following. Charles? The metal manipulator questions softly, slowing in his steps leaving the Director chatting away obliviously to Moira.

Charles?

Erik questions again, but the younger man is no longer with him, staring instead at the gruff figure stepping out of the shadows ahead.

Victor.

"Ah, here you are, I must say that we owe everything really to this fellow, without his help I fear that none of us would have survived," the Director rambles on, "though I believe I need to discuss just how much Stryker's division has been holding out on us."

"What do you mean?" Moira questions, inwardly wondering just how this man, though he has the physique of a marine and demeanour of a well seasoned soldier managed to put up enough of a defence to cause Schmidt to retreat. She finds herself stopping against her will, before she can take a step closer to the man. She blinks in surprise, before realising. Charles what are you doing? Let me go!

I'm sorry Moira but its best you don't get too close...Victor is not exactly stable, comes his gentle apology. Victor? She queries. He is a mutant, Charles continues softly, his gaze still locked with that feral blue and that is when Moira realises she should have guessed - because Victor is looking directly at the telepath, illusion be damned. Then surprisingly Victor gives a wicked grin before looking away, ignoring Moira and the Director to address the metal manipulator in a silken drawl.

"Hello Erik."

"What are you doing here?" Erik demands no pretense of civility in his voice, and Moira wonders just what in hell is going on.

"Ah I'm afraid that would be my doing," a second voice drawls and it is then that Erik recognises the agent who attempted to shoot Charles. Stryker turns to the Director with a saccarine smile, "I am sorry but there won't be any discussion between us, I simply cannot trust you - who knows what that telepath has planted in your mind." The Director blinks a startled expression crossing his face, "What are you implying?"

"You're a fool so easily persuaded and kept in the dark. You were the bait to draw them in. Don't worry your work won't be forgotten, but your usefulness has now come to an end. You should never have allowed those creatures to escape, now I must hunt them down but don't worry I've got a most excellent hound."

Erik gives a low snarl, "You won't get anywhere near them!" Stryker grins, "No? Oh but you will tell me where they have gone - quite willingly."

Moira moves to draw her weapon, only to find herself frozen once more, Charles! She growls. That's just what he is waiting for, Charles answers calmly, you'll set off Victor's hunting instincts if you do.

Can't you stop him? She demands, only to feel a shiver of aprehension when he does not reply, Charles? She sees him shake his head, it's not so simple, if I try I will most likely kill him.

Charles this is not the time for ethics, she sends back.

"And why would I do that?" The metal manipulator demands, jarring Moira back into reality. Stryker smiles coldly, "because this time I will not miss." There is a cold click of weapons being set, and Moira turns to regard the small group of men who have silently surrounded them. "Oh I anticipated your arrival Erik, in fact I was counting on it," Stryker continues with a widening grin, "Do you like my new weapons? They are plastic - no metal parts whatsoever."

Erik turns back towards the sharp pained gasp that emerges from Charles's throat. Victor has the smaller man pinned, one hand locked around his throat.

"You see?" Stryker grins, "did I forget to mention we have a special defence against telepathy." His face hardens into a dark threat ignoring the Director's confused look as he suddenly sees Charles. "You're going to tell me where the younger mutant brats have gone or you can watch as the telepath is torn limb from limb by my guard dog."


Another cliff hanger...sorry just can't help it!

Please review :)