Special Note: Big thanks to writestyle for taking the plunge and reviewing...:) So, here's the upate as promised...:)

Interlude: The Visit

She took a deep breath before getting out of the car. She knew why she was here, why they chose her to do this, but it didn't mean she had to like it. She'd only been in the man's presence twice before and both times had ultimately been very traumatizing for her. The first had been Liberty Island, when he hooked her up to his damned machine and tried to use her to destroy the lives of dozens of dignitaries from around the world. The second had been Alkali Lake, where he'd first saved their lives only to turn around and try to destroy the humans at the risk of the Professor's life. She brushed the snow-white locks behind her ears, her souvenir from Liberty Island. She turned to her lover, who gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Don' worry, mon cherie. Dis will be fine, Remy promise."

"I know." Marie replied. "I just wish it could be someone else."

"Remy understand. But Logan an' Angela needed someone who would get what dey need even if de man won' talk. Dat be you."

Marie nodded, then checked herself once more in the mirror. Finally satisfied, she tapped the driver on the shoulder. "Ok Scott, I'm ready to go in now."

Twenty minutes later, after the guards were all satisfied that Rogue had no metal on her, they led her into the plastic prison that had been redesigned with Magneto in mind. Many had argued for, DEMANDED, Magneto's execution after the DC Metro incident, but the government ultimately decided that imprisonment was the best route. After all, Magneto still had many followers out there and the last thing in the world they wanted to do was turn him into a martyr. The guard led her into the cell, then left her alone with the man who'd once tried to kill her.

"Ah, Miss D'Ancanto," he said pleasantly, as though he'd invited her over for tea. "I'm surprised to see you here. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I'm here for Logan," she said simply and sat down in the only other chair in the cell. "He woulda come himself, except for his skeleton."

"Yes, I could see where they wouldn't allow that." He smiled and took the other chair. "So, what does the mighty Wolverine need that he can only get from me?"

"We need to know how your helmet blocks telepathy."

"And why would I tell you that, my dear? It is the only thing that kept me free for as long as I was. I'm sure it's the only thing keeping Mystique hidden as well."

"Don't bullshit me, Lensherr. This ain't about you or Mystique or any of the idiots who follow you. This is for Logan's daughter."

"He has a daughter? How interesting." He didn't even attempt to hide his amusement. "And who would ever be desperate enough to settle for that animal long enough to actually reproduce with him?"

Marie let out a hiss and pulled off a glove. "Listen, I ain't gonna spar with you, old man. You either tell me how it works or I'll take it from you. Either way, I'm gonna find out." She pulled off her other glove and stuffed them both in her pocket. "I'm givin' you a chance to do somethin' for all the right reasons for a change. Don't blow it."

He sighed, but kept a wary eye on her now-bare hands. "Before I explain this to you, tell me one thing."

She rolled her eyes. "What?"

"Why does he want to know?"

Now for the part she was dreading. Angela and Logan had both told her to tell him everything, even if it seemed like a stupid thing to do. After all, this was Magneto they were talking about. If he knew that Weapon X was still this active after all this time, it would only give him another reason to attempt another escape. But it was also the only thing that might make him give up the information they needed. "Logan's daughter is a precog. She keeps havin' visions of people comin' to the mansion, like Stryker did. We have a plan to get her outta there before they arrive, but we're afraid they may have telepaths of their own and we wanna make sure they can't pick up on her."

"Ah, another attempt by humans to make slaves of your students." He leaned forward with a knowing smirk on his face. "But what aren't you telling me?"

"They come to the mansion to take his daughter. They're from Weapon X."

Erik's eyes widened and he sat back in his chair. "So it didn't die with Stryker after all." He murmured, stroking his chin thoughtfully. After a long moment, he looked back at Marie. "And you want me to tell you how to protect this girl from their pet telepaths?" Rogue nodded. "And if I refuse, you'll take it from me anyway."

She nodded again. "Only I can't promise I'll let go in time. Lots of things have changed since the last time. I can hold on a little while, get some of your power and your memories. Or I can hold on a lot longer, keep your powers and you'll probably die. I can't say that the second option doesn't sound good to me, because it does. But the Professor still thinks there's hope for you and I don't want you to be a martyr any more than the rest of the people keepin' you here." She stood up and leaned over the table, channeling her inner Wolverine. "But I owe you, Lensherr, for what you tried to make me do, for tryin' to kill me. I might not get you today, but if you ever get outta here, I'll be waitin' for you." She held up her hands as though to grab his face. "So what's it gonna be, old man?"

Erik's eyes were wide with fear as he leaned as far away from her as he could. "Please child, cover your hands. I'll tell you what you need to know."

She took her gloves out of her pocket and made a great show of pulling them back on before sitting back down. Once she was settled, she folded her hands demurely on the table in front of her and gave him her sweetest smile. "Talk."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Chapter 21

(Angela)

Marie came back from her visit with Magneto unscathed, but pissed off that she didn't get to use her power on him. For his sake, I hope he doesn't get out. I know our Rogue will be waiting for him at the gate with her gloves off. Hell, I'll give her a ride and wait for her until she's done. Not that she needs any more powers, but for Lensherr I'll make an exception.

It turns out that Erik's helmet is made of an alloy of his own invention, something he created using his powers alone. We only had one person who might be able to help us recreate the alloy, in the form of Polaris. Her powers were similar to Magneto's, except that she could only manipulate ferrous metals. At least one of the metals used in this alloy of Lensherr's was non-ferrous, which would have been a problem were it not for the twins, Seth and Simon. Between the three of them, they managed to figure out how to create this alloy. The tricky part was figuring out what to do with it.

"First off, we should re-skin Blackbird Three." Scott said. We were sitting in Hank's lab downstairs, which he said we could use for this project. "We never use it unless we absolutely have to and now that we don't have to hide from anyone when we go out, there's no reason to worry about it being picked up on radar."

"That's great for the short term," Logan replied, chewing on a cigar, "but that ain't gonna help 'em when they get where they're goin'."

"And where would that be, anyway?"

"Don't know, don't wanna know." He took the cigar out of his mouth and inspected the end. "That's the whole point, Scooter. What's the sense of 'em hidin' if everyone an' their dog knows where they are?"

"True. Well, we can't expect the five of them to wear helmets all the time." He leaned back in his chair and took off his sunglasses to rub his eyes. Naturally, he kept his eyes closed, but it always took me by surprise to see him without the ubiquitous shades. For the first time since I've known him, I wondered what color his eyes were. Hell, he probably wondered the same thing. After a moment, he sighed and slipped the glasses back on. "Any idea how thick it has to be for it to remain effective?"

"Not right offhand." I said, looking over the complex formula Rogue had gotten for us. Looked like Sanskrit, but I had to do something to keep my hands busy. "You have an idea?"

"Wherever they go, it's unlikely they'll be leaving it for any length of time, at least until they get the all-clear from Buzz. If we can make it thin enough, maybe they can take enough of it with them to…I don't know, put it on the roof or something?"

I chewed thoughtfully on one of my claws. "Well, we know that Simon can make it as thin as we want it to be. We'll just have to test it out."

"Ok. We'll get to that tomorrow then." The three of us stood up. "Hey, I just want you guys to know that I understand why you're doing all of this for Evie, even if it will take four of our best away from us."

Logan quirked an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? That mean you understand all o' it or just the gettin' Evie outta here part?"

"All of it." He sighed and looked Logan in the eye. "I'm not a killer. I'll never be a killer. But you also don't let a rabid dog go to bite you in the ass later. You take it out and remove the threat. We're lucky they never got wind of Kyle or Rahne in all this time and I hate to think of what would happen if they did. Much as I might hate the part where you guys have killed I don't even know how many people over the years, I hate the thought of them getting a hold of anyone else even more. You saved Hea and Jung, you tried to save those others a few months back when you saved Izzy. You've probably saved other lives too, people they would have gotten if you hadn't done what you did."

Logan and I both smirked and I crossed my arms. "Scott Summers, are you admitting that you might have been wrong?"

"What? No! I mean…well…maybe I was a little hasty all those years ago accusing you of killing people in cold blood for fun."

"Killin' people ain't fun, Cyke an' that's somethin' we've always tried to explain to ya." Logan took the cigar out of his mouth again and gripped Scott's shoulder. "Yeah, it's easy an' yeah, when it's someone who really deserves it, it is kinda fun. But mostly, it's somethin' we do cuz there ain't no other way. Someday, you'll be the one starin' down the barrel o' a gun an' you'll have to decide; do ya knock him down an' hope he don't get back up, or do ya take him out so ya KNOW he won't?"

"I hope it'll never come to that."

"Sorry Cyke, but Evie's already told us it will. Weapon X is comin'. You gonna be ready?"

He didn't say anything, so Logan and I left him to think about that. The future can never be completely avoided, even if we do change things in the present. I only hoped that when the time did come, he would do the right thing.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Within the month, we determined that it didn't matter how thin the metal was, it was still an effective means of blocking out telepathy. We had Simon form a bit of it into something that looked like a beanie, about the same thickness as a piece of tinfoil, that fit nicely inside a baseball cap and used Kurt as our test subject. Even with Cerebro, Charles couldn't locate the teleporter no matter where he went. The best part of that news was that we wouldn't need to make nearly as much of it as we originally thought. The alloy was not cheap to produce and since it was my daughter we were going to all this trouble for, I insisted on footing at least half the bill. The Professor tried to argue with me, but if there's one thing he's learned through the years, it's that my mind can not be changed once it's made up. So, we paid for enough of the stuff to make several sheets that could be rolled up and stored in a fairly small space. The other advantage was that it wasn't very heavy, so it would be no hardship for them to wear baseball caps with this stuff lining them. Why Magneto had to wear that retarded looking helmet is something I'll never understand as long as I'm alive.

Another good thing that came of the project was a weapon for Remy. Since adamantium was one of the components of the alloy, we'd had to purchase a great deal of it. It simply wasn't the kind of metal you could just buy a few linear feet or cubic feet or whatever, you either bought a lot or you bought none. So, once we were done making what we hoped would be enough alloy for Sam and Marie to use once they got to wherever they were going, we had a bit of adamantium left. Simon could usually be found playing around with it in his spare time, just seeing what he could do with it. We were on the way to a Danger Room session to keep Alpha team in fighting form when Logan got an idea and made a detour to the lab. Sure enough, Simon was in there playing with the metal. "Hey kid, can you make me a little ball? 'Bout the size of a pinball?"

Simon shrugged. "Sure Logan." He concentrated for a bit and a glob separated from the solid chunk in front of him, landing on the table with a dull "clink". After a few more seconds, the glob formed itself into a perfect sphere. "There you go. What you want it for?"

"Gotta theory, I wanna test it out. Thanks kid." He shoved the ball in his pocket and we went back into the hallway.

"Uh, Logan, I'm officially confused." I said as I pulled on my gloves in the locker room. "Why do you want a ball of adamantium?"

"I got to thinkin' 'bout the Cajun. He's great with those cards o' his, but everythin' he charges blows up. If this shit's really indestructible, maybe we can get him somethin' he can use that won't explode, give him a chance if things get outta hand."

"Hm. So you're thinking an adamantium pinball is the answer?"

"Not exactly. But if he can charge this an' it don't explode on contact, we can come up with somethin' else."

I shrugged and we went into the Danger Room together. Ninety minutes later, we had determined that no matter how much of a charge he put into it, Remy could not destroy that little ball. He was equally thrilled and upset about this development, because he was so used to everything blowing up that he'd gotten a bit cocky about it. On the other hand, now we could give him a weapon that he could use and not worry about having to replace it every few seconds. In the end, we had Simon fashion a staff out of adamantium for him. It was heavy enough to cause damage, even uncharged, but still light enough that it wouldn't be too unwieldy for him. Remy loved it and threw himself into staff training with Logan so he could master the weapon as quickly as possible.

The reason for it was plain. We hadn't told any of the students, not even the ones on Beta team, about Evie's vision. Stories still circulated around the mansion about the day Stryker had invaded, some of them exaggerated beyond belief ("There were hundreds of them and they killed three kids!" "Wolverine went nuts and almost gutted Iceman!"). The last thing we wanted to do was alarm any of them, so it was best that we went on with life as usual, as though nothing was wrong. We'd instructed Evie to tell no one and the reasons why, which she obeyed without question. She didn't want to scare any of her friends and she'd heard plenty of stories about Stryker's invasion. Coupled with her own visions (which were coming with increasing frequency and she continued to send to Logan and I somehow), sleepless nights were becoming the norm for us. Charles did his best to teach her to shield her mind from them even while she was sleeping, but he speculated that the best he'd be able to do for her was to teach her to simply wake up when a dream that frightened her started. In time, he hoped she would be able to recall where the dream let off, so she could go back and see what she missed at will. I just wanted her to stop screaming in the night, for her sake as well as mine and Logan's.

Fall came upon us in earnest and we all breathed a little easier. Since no one had invaded before the leaves started to change, but the weather still matched Evie's vision, we'd all been quite a bit on edge. As soon as the first tree turned to gold, the relaxation in the air was palpable. We knew we had at least a few months' respite until it came true, although I personally hoped it would be much longer, like a few years. I wasn't going to hold my breath, but I could hope.

Late one night in October, I was sitting in front of the fire in the study, the two Weapon X files in front of me. One was the original that Bennington had handed to us all those years ago. The other contained the papers relating to the bases we'd already destroyed. I was poring over them all, looking for the one detail I'd missed the other million times I'd been over them, the one clue that would tell me where the hell the Director was. He was the key to this whole thing, the stone that if we could knock it out would bring the rest of it falling down. I reached absently for the wineglass that stood on the rug next to me and drained the ruby liquid without really tasting it. Page after page, line after line, I scrutinized every paper, every photo, but nothing leapt off the page to give me a sudden burst of brilliant insight. Frustrated, I threw the wineglass into the fire.

"Those are expensive, you know." I heard behind me and whipped my head around. Charles simply sat there, a half-smile on his face. "Not that I'm worried about it."

"Hey Professor." I said and gathered up the papers. He thumbed the control on his chair and glided over, stopping right next to me. "Up late, aren't you?"

"I could say the same of you." He reached down and picked up the "live" file, the one we'd gotten from Bennington. "Still no luck, I take it?"

I shook my head. "No, not even close. But I'd bet all the money I ever made in Detroit that he's at Area 51, planning his hit on the mansion and all the disgusting things he wants to do to my daughter when he gets her back to the lab." I rubbed my eyes, then ran my fingers through my hair. "Charles, I know we can stop him from coming here if we can just get to him."

"I know, my dear. But he went to great trouble to fake his own death, to prevent the wrong people from discovering his true intentions." He flipped through the file for a bit before handing it back to me. "But you already know the answer is not amongst these papers."

"I know, I know. I keep thinking I had to have missed something, some tiny detail that'll help me, but…well, like you said, it's not in there." I pulled my knees up to my chest and stared into the fire. We didn't say anything for a while, but I could feel his eyes on me the whole time. It wasn't an uncomfortable feeling, his scrutiny. Rather, it was like the way a father might watch a daughter, or a teacher his student. In some ways, I was the latter. It's impossible to be a part of Charles Xavier's life and not be a student, but my own father had been dead for so long, part of me wanted it to be the former as well. I'm not sure what prompted what happened next, but after the fire had burned down to embers, I turned to him again. "Professor, do you ever hate me?"

"What?" I had clearly taken him by surprise, something that's not easy to do with a telepath as strong as he is. "Why on earth would you ever ask me that question?"

I shrugged. "The things I've done, people I've killed that really didn't have anything to do with what happened to me and Logan and Kyro." I swallowed hard. "And Emma."

He reached down and laid his hand gently on my shoulder. "Angela, I could no more hate you than hate the sun for setting each day, or hate the seasons for changing. What you do, what you are, it is simply a part of you, something as natural as the seasons. The nature of your mutation gives you a strong need to protect those you love and if part of that is killing that which you perceive as a threat, who am I to judge?"

"Did Logan ever tell you I thought about going back? Turning myself in to them so they'd leave everyone here alone?"

"No, he didn't. He's not one to go about telling someone's secrets."

I nodded. "Well, I did, a while ago. Had this whole plan figured out. He talked me out of it, but it still crosses my mind from time to time." I looked back into the dying fire. "I'm surprised you didn't already know."

"You know I don't make it a habit of poking around in people's minds. Just because I can doesn't mean I do."

"Yeah, I suppose." We sat there in silence for a little longer, then I reached over and tossed another log into the fireplace. Sparks spiraled up the chimney and the well-seasoned wood caught almost immediately. I settled back again and stared at the flames. "Did you know I'm afraid I'm gonna live forever?"

"Not in so many words, no." He replied, settling back in his chair.

"I am. I think Logan is too. Kyro, he's too young to know, he's barely gotten started and he's what? Almost forty now? That was so long ago for me, I barely remember what it was like."

"And to think there are people out there who would envy you, who would want to live for a hundred, two hundred years and never grow old."

I snorted bitterly. "They have no fucking idea. It's awful, watching everyone you care about get old and die. That's part of the reason why I moved around so much, every ten years or so, just so I wouldn't have to go through it. I suppose that makes me a coward, but I don't give a shit."

"You are many things, Angela, but a coward is not one of them."

"It's funny, you know? Most people are afraid to die. Me? I'm afraid I'm not going to. And why me? Why not someone who really deserves it, like Ghandi or Einstein? Or maybe that guy who invented penicillin?" I turned back to him, tears standing in my eyes. "Why give this to someone whose only claim to fame is her outstanding body count?"

"If I had the answer to that, I'd also be smart enough to invent a serum that would allow everyone to live forever."

I sniffed, trying to hold back my tears. "Can you try?"

He took a deep breath, but his face took on that look he gets when he's thinking. "I know you are well aware that you are not alone, that Logan shares this gift with you. And yes, before you say anything, it is a gift. Most of us only have eighty or at best ninety good years before the end. Just as we start to understand, our lives are over. But because of your gift, you have the opportunity to witness extraordinary things, events that will eventually be relegated to a few paragraphs in a history book. You will be here long after the people who created those events are gone, but you will know the truth behind those things. Perhaps the reason you have been given this gift is so that the world may never forget the things that shaped it, the heroes who saved it. People like you, Logan and Mr. Bennington are the world's memory. And, in many ways, you are its conscience."

I'd lost my battle with the tears and they spilled from my eyes, leaving hot tracks on my cheeks and I turned back to the fire. "I'm just so tired, Charles. I'm tired of all the death, all the hatred. I'm tired of turning on the news and seeing another FOH attack going unpunished. Sure, the government says things are changing, but are they really? If I'm supposed to be part of the worlds' conscience, then how come the same stupid shit keeps happening?"

"Because everyone wants to be right, everyone thinks they know best, but the fact is that no one does. I truly believe that mutants and humans can co-exist peacefully, but I fear that it will not happen in my lifetime. Perhaps that is another reason that you have been given the gift you have, so that you can take up the cause when I and everyone else here in this mansion are gone."

"You really don't want to pick me for that job. I don't agree with Lensherr's whole mutant domination thing, but I can see his point. I've seen it all, every bad thing humans can dream up to do to us and sometimes I think what the world needs is a good nuking."

"Erik has his own reasons for feeling the way he does and unlikely as it may seem, I understand them. He survived horrors that I cannot begin to imagine, although I am certain that you can. There was a time that we shared a vision and I will always regret that he and I could not remain on the same side. Regardless of what may happen, I will always have hope that the world will come to accept us for what we are."

I looked back at him, wiping the tears from my cheeks. "See? If anyone in this room deserves to live forever, it's you not me. You have all this hope, all these wonderful dreams for the future and all I have is claws and a killer instinct. The world needs people like you, it doesn't need another killer."

"But you're not just a killer. You don't kill simply for the sake of killing. You do it only to protect those who cannot do it for themselves."

"Yeah, now. But before, back in the Bad Old Days? I liked it. I mean, I REALLY liked it. And in the past few years, taking out all those bases? I remember why I liked it." I shook my head and looked down. "Stryker called us animals, only good for killing, maiming and you know what? He was right. In a lot of ways, he was one hundred percent fucking right."

"But in just as many ways, he was wrong. And we already know that you had a great deal of telepathic conditioning done to you that we worked very hard to reverse."

"Then why do I still like it, huh? Why does it still make me feel all tingly when some poor pimply-faced kid barely out of basic is on his knees begging me to spare him? Why can't I look at him and see the person he is instead of an enemy to be taken out? He didn't ask for his post, didn't request it. He could have a whole life, but then I come along and take it away from him with a fucking smile on my face."

"That, I'm afraid, is probably related to your training and not your instincts or any residual memory of the conditioning. You were taught to never leave witnesses, never leave anyone behind. It was drilled into you until it was second nature. But if what you're really trying to ask me is do I think you're a terrible person, the answer is no. The mere fact that you are sitting here, agonizing over this with me should speak volumes to you about your own conscience."

I gave an unexpected snort of laughter. "Ya know, I just realized that in all my time here, this is the first time we've ever talked about any of this."

"This is also the first time you were ready. I don't force any of my X-Men to utilize my skill as a psychologist, but eventually they all come to me for one reason or another. But remember that I am your friend before I am anything else and as your friend, I can tell you that you are a good, honorable woman. You have saved many more lives than you have taken, even if you never see the faces of those you save. I know that I, for one, sleep much easier knowing that we have you here to protect us."

I looked back up at him, then impulsively knelt in front of him and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. He held me for a long moment and I could feel the barest touch of his mind in mine, a kind of mental caress that simply made me feel better. I let go and smiled at him. "You know, had I met you forty years ago, Logan wouldn't have had a chance."

He laughed out loud and I sat back. "Oh goodness, you flatter me!"

I shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. We'll never know, will we?" I looked around and grabbed the almost empty wine bottle that I'd nearly forgotten about. "A toast, to hope for the world and maybe a bit for me, too." I took a healthy swallow and passed it over to the Professor. I didn't expect him to actually do it, but he tilted the bottle back and took a pretty good-sized drink of his own before handing it back. "Thanks, Professor, for everything."

"Anytime, my dear. My door is always open, day or night." He smiled and glided out of the study, leaving me to finish the wine as I watched the fire burn down once again. I gathered up the files and padded softly back to the suite, easing myself in next to my lover. He turned over and pulled me in close to him and I fell asleep, secure in his embrace.

There would be many times over the years that Charles and I would find ourselves in front of that fire. Sometimes we talked for hours, others we sat mostly in silence, but each time I came out of it feeling just a little bit better. I still believe that he deserved this so-called gift of mine more than I did, but he'll always be with me. And since I will be around for a very long time, he'll always be around too.

AN: Well, there you have it...another chapter...and would you believe i've been trying to post this for like FOUR HOURS? Such is the dangers of updating at work...re-read 2 sentences, take a call from some crazy person...correct a spelling error, take more calls from crazy people...repeat as necessary...:) Ok, not ALL the callers are crazy people...maybe someday i'll tell you all about some of my best calls...:) At any rate, special thanks to all the usual suspects, but especially to Levanna and theNightEnchantress for reviewing chapter 20...and to writestyle, for reviewing chapter 2 and will be surprised to see his/her name in bold letters at the top of THIS chapter when s/he gets here...:)

Now, follow writestyle's fine example and throw a review down for the hell of it...:) Just say hello or whatever, i don't care...:)