A/N: Gosh, this chapter has been long overdue. Thanks to all my readers for sticking with the story for so long, even if I -did- rather underestimate the workload I would have for school this year. Anyway, I hope to be wrapping this up within a few chapters...this was never meant to be this long! ;_; Hahaha. I've been having so much fun with it, though, and I hope you have too. Apologies once again for super-sporadic updates.

Shout-outs go to Bramblerose4 and Mrs. Unusual-in-Groovy-Ways for reviewing the last chapter, and welcome to everyone who's picked up the story since my last update!

Keep it up, guys, I promise I'll be better about updating.

~LoverBoyWonder

Shaw had of course been alerted to the two men's escape as soon as Emma had put a stop to Charles' clumsy attempt at scanning the ship; subsequently, the general was the only one left on the bridge when Erik and Charles arrived. He was turned away from them and was looking out the large window at the ground below. Emma and everyone else had presumably relocated to one of the large, empty rooms. Charles had attempted to scan the ship again but gave up when he realized Emma wouldn't let it work a second time; he kept feeling the diamond spikes invade his mental space and stopped trying.

Shaw stood stock-still with his hands held loosely behind his back as Erik and Charles entered, and Charles half expected lightning to flash and thunder to crackle ominously; such was the general's obvious love of the melodramatic.

"So," Shaw said, turning at last to face them, "You escaped. I had thought it would take you at least a bit longer…but it doesn't matter, maggots. You're dead anyway."

"Not yet, we're not," Erik growled and lunged forward; Charles could barely hold him back.

"Wait!" Charles said sharply, "We don't know what he's got up his sleeve."

"Clever boy," Shaw sneered. "Listen to little Charlie, Erik; at least he tries to use what little brainpower he's got."

"Don't call me Charlie," Charles spoke through gritted teeth at Shaw, immediately loosening his hold on Erik and taking a step forward.

In one fluid motion, Shaw drew a ray gun from the inside of his jacket and had it pointed straight at Charles' chest. "Sorry, worms," Shaw's lips curled into a feral grin, "not one more step, got that?"

"No!" Erik roared.

"Wait!" Charles commanded again. Erik remained still, but Charles could tell by his body language that he was seething—he was practically bristling with rage, Charles noted worriedly.

I can try to- to take control of Shaw, Charles thought to Erik with a small shiver. Erik blinked once and then responded silently by setting his jaw.

I'll speak to him, Erik thought back. Erik picked up his hands, and Shaw swung his arm lazily to level the gun at Erik's chest. Erik and Shaw began speaking, Shaw loosely and off-handedly recalling old memories that Erik answered with growls emitted through sharp, clenched teeth—behind the scenes, Erik was of course molding the metal of the ship's console slowly and cautiously, distracting Shaw with his verbal attacks in the meantime. Charles hardly paid attention, so concentrated was he on the task of getting past Emma's defenses and entering Shaw's mind that he barely noticed what was going on around him anymore.

As he retreated further and further into the recesses of his own consciousness, Charles became more and more acutely aware of the sparkling, shining protrusions that were Emma's attacks. They were an assault on his mind, created to barrage his mental faculties with distractions and blinding pain. Charles tried to study them with his inner eye as they went whistling through his mind, leaving sharp stings in their wake. Each one seemed identical in every way, a gleaming spike of diamond strength…but all diamonds have flaws, and Charles quickly located theirs—a white spot, located on the base of each spike; a blind spot where Emma's consciousness seeped through to control the attack minutely.

He would have to act fast, but—

The diamond invader whistled past his ear as he whipped around, and Charles, moving faster than he thought possible, jabbed at the white spot violently, driving his fingers in.

Shrieking—

Pain—

The protrusions receded and his mind became frigid once more with clarity.

Charles was left free to cast about and find Shaw's mind. He grappled with his conscience for a moment, but emotion prevailed and suddenly Charles was in the general's mind.

He saw Erik through Shaw's eyes, felt echoes of the things—hateangerhate— that Shaw felt.

He stopped.

It almost worked.