Peter could feel his thoughts swirling around him, temporarily gluing him to the spot. Sweat was building up on his forehead, on the back of his hands. He felt as though all sound was slowly draining out of the clearing, pushing him into the ground and taking his sanity with it.

This shouldn't have been a difficult decision. He should have known exactly what to do, should be figuring out the best, fastest ways to go about it. Peter had never questioned Magneto in the past. He'd never wanted to and, quite frankly, had thought that doing so was ridiculous. Magneto had known what to do in every situation, had known what everything required.

After nine years of following orders without a second thought, it seemed logical that he should go ahead. There was even a large part of his brain that was screaming at him, telling him to do it. Wasn't this what he had worked for? Wasn't this what he had sacrificed so much for? A world without fear?

But there was something inside of him that was holding him back, telling him not to do this. Peter had always been bad at numbers, but he knew that seventy five percent was a C, and not even a C+. He'd had enough of them growing up. That wasn't a good thing to trust the future of the world to, something that only scored a C.

And the nightmare didn't seem to be ending any time soon. Magneto was asking him to side with him, as he'd always done, and then probably attack Hank. He'd done so before but, having been doctored by him earlier that day, it felt wrong now. The voice was particularly strong about this point. After all, hadn't he himself told Wanda that he thought the X-men might be the good guys?

The more he listened, the more it seemed like a voice was arguing with him. It was a hard voice to place. At first he thought it might be Lorna's. All of her words about universal brotherhood and responsibility had stayed with him, even though he didn't fully understand them. She'd been constantly in his thoughts over the past day, making him stop and look at the past in ways he'd never done before.

But the voice was too familiar, too pleading and desperate. Peter wondered if Karma had gotten into his head, but he dismissed it. If she was well enough to do something like that, and she didn't look like she was, then she would be able to be more assertive about this. So whose was it?

"We could finally be safe," Magneto said.

And then, Peter was finally able to place it. It had barely survived the years in the Brotherhood, but it was still there.

Peter numbly blasted asteroids, his mind deep in thought. Magneto's words were echoing around in his head, cajoling and urging him to stop being afraid. His own feelings were egging him on and reaching out to him.

Despite what he knew his sister thought of him, Peter did have a brain. He knew that he should be more careful in the future, more secretive and hidden. Doing that would keep him safe. It would keep his sisters safe.

The problem was, Peter didn't want to be safe. He had never wanted to be safe. Safe was his mother, had been his father. Safe was the dweebs whose pockets he picked. Safe was boring and predictable, and Peter did not want to live like that.

He wanted to live freely, to run around the city as much as he wanted without fear of censure. Peter wanted to jump off buildings to see if he could outrun his fall, test who he was and what he could do. He wanted to leave safe behind and never think about it again.

Oh God. He thought of the boy he'd been at seventeen, the one who argued with Magneto because he didn't want to leave Lorna behind. He'd been an idiot in so many ways, but he'd had good morals. Peter had believed himself to be the kind of person who could fight corruption, fight the sins of the world, and push himself to be better.

Yes, he'd been a thief. He'd been a delinquent, but he hadn't been a murderer. He hadn't been a killer. What had happened to that boy, the boy with fire in his heart and a desire to be something? He'd wanted so desperately to do something amazing.

But he hadn't done anything amazing. It was a conclusion that Peter had slowly been building up to ever since he was brought to the Institute. They had done something amazing, creating a safe haven for young mutants while creating a team that would protect the world until they were old enough to inherit it. People like Alex and Hank had dedicated their youth to it.

In contrast, he'd spent his youth hurting others and seeing nothing come of it. The years had seen him become a killer, trying to run from the misguided boy he'd been at seventeen. But, somewhere, that seventeen-year-old was still trying desperately to be heard. And maybe that wasn't the bad thing he'd always though tit was.

Peter had begun his career in the Brotherhood because he wanted to be more, not less. It seemed to him that being a killer was a significant step down from a thief. He'd already fallen to that place for the sake of being who he thought history needed him to be. The only thing lower than that would be a mass murderer.

The choice wasn't an easy one, but it was fairly obvious. Peter was fighting all of his instincts at the moment and, truth be told, he felt a little dizzy from it. This wasn't going to be easy. His next step was even harder, but it was also practical.

It seemed strange but, for the first time in his life, it seemed that his ability to come to conclusions about his future quickly was going to come in handy. So he sighed at Hank and put on his goggles. Hank looked dismayed, but Peter winked.

"I'll get Mags, you get Emma," he said.

He didn't wait for a reply, or a reaction. Peter just barreled into Magneto, and the metal that had been orbiting around his arm went flying. Peter hoped that his actions weren't going to hurt him too badly. Yes, they had crossed a line. But Peter wasn't going to be a jerk about it.

It would only take seconds for Magneto to react, and Peter knew that when he did, he would be in for a world of hurt. There was still a ton of metal lying around, so Peter needed to concentrate on getting him as far away from the machine as possible in this first, vital push.

They had gone several yards when Peter felt something grab his leg. He stumbled and let go of Magneto, but managed to jerk his foot away from the metal debris that was trying to pin it to the ground. When he looked up he saw several more objects being tossed at him.

Peter ducked and weaved, trying to go as fast as possible. He was fast, but Magneto had an infinite amount of experience with his gifts. If Peter didn't really start applying himself, then death was definitely an option.

Something skimmed his shoulder, cutting the top of his arm. It wasn't deep, but he knew that it meant he was getting sloppy. He had to be more precise, although precision had never really been his particular field of expertise. He'd left that to Domino. Not that she'd talk to him after this, but still.

He dodged another piece and heard a rumbling in the distance. Peter glanced behind and saw what looked like a truck flying through the air, headed for Hank. He didn't know if Hank saw it but Peter wasn't about to take any chances.

Peter barreled into Magneto again, and he heard the truck fall to the ground. Hopefully no one got hurt when it made impact. However, it looked like Magneto had been prepared for that particular trick of his. Peter suddenly found himself getting flipped over and tossed onto the ground.

He looked up in time to get punched across the face. Another blow ground him into the dirt, and Peter felt Magneto grab the front of his shirt. He risked opening his eyes, and saw Magneto looking down on him with fury.

"Why?" he seethed, "After nine years, why?"

Peter continued to look at Magneto. The rage was easy enough to see, and it was to be expected. The look of betrayal was odd though, almost as though what Peter had done had hurt, and hurt very badly. He'd been a prized soldier, and when he was younger he'd thought he was special, but he had figured out that was just a soldier to Magneto.

"Why?" Magneto demanded.

For a moment Peter considered lying, or telling him he didn't know. However, he actually did have an answer to this question.

"You asked me, earlier, why I chose you," he managed.

Magneto's eyes were still on his. Peter started shifting his weight, getting ready to get back on his feet.

"And I told you that it made sense," he said, "But...I wanted to be something greater than I was. Something better."

His spare hand dug into the ground. Magneto's expression eroded, and Peter swallowed. What was going to happen next would be painful, but he would prefer it if Magneto understood his reasons. He owed him that much.

"I never wanted to be a killer," he said.

"I told you why these things had to happen," Magneto said.

Peter was a little surprised that Magneto was still talking. He expected him to listen to his explanation and then continue trying to destroy him. Instead, it was almost like having a conversation. The person he was having a conversation with was holding him in a death grip, but still.

It was both humbling and violent. The two things that Magneto did best.

"You did," Peter said, "And I'm sorry I believed it."

With his spare hand, he pushed upwards so that Magneto was back on the ground. Peter jumped to his feet and grabbed Magneto by the back of his shirt. Then he started running, making sure that Magneto hit each and ever one of the tents' wooden support beams. Looked like not everyone needed metal.

Something grabbed his foot and yanked him to the ground. Once there, metal bands began snaking their way across his wrists and legs. Peter tried to struggle, but one piece suddenly linked with the others and stiffened. It felt like it was a body cage.

"I'm sorry you feel that way," Magneto said, "I truly am."

And yes, there did seem to be some sincere regret in there. Peter struggled in his bonds, that same little voice telling him that there was something peculiar going on with this, but he told it to shut up so he could concentrate on not dying.

A loud crash filled the air, along with the swooshing of cloth and the screams of whatever guards they hadn't managed to take out earlier. Both he and Magneto looked as a heavy-set, chipped truck roared through the middle of the camp.

The doors opened at once. The Professor was the easiest to recognize, but he wasn't perfectly sure about the other two. He vaguely remembered the big hairy guy, but the blue woman took longer to place. After nearly a minute, he realized that she was the one who'd stopped Magneto from killing the president.

Peter wasn't sure what their presence meant, but he knew that, if those two were with Xavier, then it was very likely indeed that they would be excited about the weapon. With them fighting with them, they might actually have a chance.

It made him feel a little bit better about betraying nine years of his life. Just a little bit though. Just a little bit.