A/N: Sorry for taking so long to get this up, life kind of got in the way there for a while...

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Emma didn't quite know where Magneto's lair was, but she did remember where the tunnel that led to it was. It was a long walk, filled with questions to which she didn't have the answers. But she knew where at least some of those might lie.

Magneto.

She was going to choke it out of him if she had to.

"But," she mused aloud; "perhaps after a good night's sleep..." It was dark by the time she reached the stone that hid the tunnel. Her use of her power, combined with the physical exertion of hanging off a cliff, and the emotional stress of her anger and regaining her name had made her incredibly tired. Not to mention the blood she had lost via the strange wound on her face.

She pushed the rock, but it didn't budge. Emma sighed and sat down. Her clothes were dirty and torn, stained with blood. Her right shoulder hurt from the graze it had received tumbling off the cliff. She had another cut on her forehead, which she didn't remember getting, not to mention the scar on her face that was aching. She wanted a shower, she wanted a bed, and most of all she wanted to know who she was, and who the good guys were in all of the mess she was in.

"You don't want to go back." Emma looked up and saw two pinprick glints of red.

"How do you know that?"

"Because Gambit knows he doesn't. Magneto let you go. So go."

Emma laughed shortly. "Where? I don't trust anyone anymore."

"Go to the X-men. And do Remy a favour; give this-" out of the darkness, a card floated towards her, "to the beautiful cheri wit' the stripes in her hair."

And then he was gone.

***********

"I'm telling ya Charles, she didn't know me! She didn't know any of us. You saw what she did to Jean."

Charles frowned slightly. "Are you sure it was - "

"Yes! Not too many people both shoot electricity and bleed from scars. It was Emma. She even smelled the same."

Logan paced the length of Charles' office while the Professor pondered. When Emma didn't contact him or turn up at the institute in a week, he'd tried to find her. Cerebro couldn't detect her anywhere. Extensive searching had turned up her car and possessions, but nothing more.

Until now.

A loud crash startled both of them. It came from downstairs. Without a word, both men rushed out of the office and into the entrance hall. The door was a mess of charred wood and broken glass. Where it had stood was a gaping blackened hole. A familiar form stepped in, her boots crunching on the debris.

She shrugged at them. "It was locked. You're Xavier I gather."

Charles couldn't deny that it was his niece before him, but she was drastically changed. Not so much in appearance, but her entire demeanor was harder and colder.

"Emma." He tried to smile. "Nice of you to visit."

"I'll bet. I need to talk to you."

Footsteps approached the stairs from the students' bedrooms. Emma noted that she couldn't see the redhead among them. Oddly she felt a pang of guilt.

"Professor?" The one with the red glasses spoke, his hand upon them as if on the trigger of a weapon.

"Easy Scott. Go back to bed, all of you." As they reluctantly shuffled off, he turned to the man Emma recognised as Wolverine. "Logan, will you call the repair shop? Then come to my office. I think we have some things to discuss with our returned friend."