Isabelle's fingers were far stronger than he expected a woman's touch to be, but as soothing as the pressure against his locked muscles felt, he could not relax. He knew Isabelle Ribiero, trusted her completely, and yet the moment she had embraced him in a dim room, the ghost of Magda had risen up screaming at him. The last time a human woman had embraced him with romance on her mind, she had ended up calling him a monster and running from him. He tried to tell himself that Isabelle was different, that she knew of his powers already, that she would not betray him, but as much as he consciously might believe it, his subconscious fear refused to yield the grip it had on him.
Frustrated, he sat up. "This isn't working--"
And saw a shadow behind Isabelle, a bulk moving toward her, and felt the presence of steel.
Action became reaction. Without thought, without hesitation, Erik flung power out at the shadow, throwing it back against the window, while at the same time he grabbed Isabelle with his hand and pulled her close to him.
"Erik, what--"
Guns fired. Bullets made of lead, not steel. He threw up a shield, at the same time yanking the guns away from the hands holding them -- and his power was thrown back at him, backlashing along every nerve, making him double over and scream.
"I tried to warn you," Control's voice said. "But no, you had to be a hot dog, didn't you? Had to go running off your leash. You should have followed orders."
Erik lifted his head, staring. "Control?"
It was, in fact, Control, flanked by two goons. One of them was the brutally large man who had been reaching for Isabelle. Both were in the process of picking up their guns from the floor.
Isabelle clung to him. "Erik, who are these people? Why are they trying to kill us?"
"I don't know. I thought this man was on my side. Explain yourself! Why are you here?"
"I told you. You got the wrong Nazi. Heinrich was one of ours. You're a liability, Magneto, a loose cannon, and if you won't stay under our control we can't afford to have you around at all."
"One of yours? He was Nazi scum! My job is to bring people like that to justice!"
"Get your head out of your ass. It's not about justice, it's not about the Nazis. It's about the Russkies, and what they're gonna do to the entire world if we let them. If some Nazi son of a bitch can help us beat the Commies, then we're going to give him protection from people like you." Control shook his head. "You Israelis have no sense of proportion about crap like this. If it wasn't for us and our friendly nuclear umbrella, your Arab neighbors would have made mincemeat out of you by now. But no, you've got to go against your own interests, stop playing ball with us. Tell me, Magneto, did Mossad put you up to double-crossing me, or are you just that stupid?"
Erik disregarded nearly everything in that speech. His vision was going white with fury. The CIA had been sharing intelligence with him, giving him what he needed to track down Nazi war criminals, because he'd thought the Americans were on Israel's side, were on his side. The Americans had stood against the Nazis, they had helped Israel, and Charles was an American. He had thought he could trust the Americans. He couldn't trust any human being at all.
"You protected NAZIS?"
He flung power out again, trying to blast Control back against the wall-- but the pain came again, and this time stopped the force from even leaving his immediate magnetic field. Erik curled up in agony, trying to make his body work again, trying to force himself to straighten out despite the pain.
"If they were willing to help us against the Commies, yes. It's a new world order, Magneto. You don't get it." Control shook his head again. "Sad, really. All that power, but you muties are just as stupid as anybody else. Look at you, trying to use your powers over and over. You'd have thought the first time you got hurt you'd have figured it out."
"What... did you do to me?"
"It's these nifty vests, see." Control opened his coat. "The bright boys back at the lab whipped up something to help us deal with you. See, these reflect your own power back at you. Any time you try to do something to us, it backlashes on you. You can keep trying to fight it if you want, but... me personally, I don't like pain."
Erik glanced over at Isabelle, whose face was absolutely white with terror. Strong fingers that had so confidently massaged his back a few minutes ago were now digging into his arm and shoulder as she clung to him desperately. "Let Isabelle go. She has nothing to do with this."
"Sorry, pal. Our sponsors are looking for a little payback here." Control looked at Isabelle. "Too bad, lady, but maybe you shouldn't have been playing footsie with a mutie spy. That kind of thing gets people killed."
"Don't kill me," Isabelle pleaded. "Please. I've done nothing to you."
"You picked the wrong boyfriend." Control nodded, and the two men next to him lifted their guns.
"Erik, help me!" she screamed--
--and it was Magda's voice again, "Erik, our child! Save her!" and the burning building, and the petty viciousness of human men and their desire for power dragging him down, dragging them down, and his daughter was screaming for her papa to save her but the pain was so bad and he couldn't concentrate and never again--
--The pain was awful for a moment as the power exploded from him, more raw force than he'd ever channeled before. And then he shredded the vests that were turning his own strength against him, because he was master of magnetism and magnetic vests would not master him, he would not die this way, would not see someone he loved die for his failure this day--
The wall exploded outward. The goons fell, screaming, twelve stories to their deaths. Erik strode forward and grasped Control by the neck, effortlessly lifting him. It wasn't his muscles anymore, it wasn't his human body. He was an avatar of magnetic rage, of power. "Little man! You who murder your own kind for power, you who turn a blind eye to the slaughter of women and children, your day on this Earth is done! No more will you be permitted to kill the innocent for the sake of your stupid tribal conflicts; no more will you sleep fat and safe in your homes while the leaders you elect dance with the devil to fatten their wallets. The future belongs to me! I am Homo superior, I am power, and I will crush your kind to save the world for my people! I am Magneto!"
And with that, he set Control's body ablaze with electrical fire, and flung the dying man out the window.
He collapsed then. His head was pounding, and he was so weak, so tired. And she would run now. He knew how this story went. He had lived it before. He had saved her life, but she was human, and she would fear him as all humans feared him, and she would run. He had saved her, and he had lost her.
A gentle hand touched the back of his neck.
"Erik," he heard her whisper. "Oh, God, Erik, what is this power doing to you?"
Erik lifted his head painfully, looking up at the eyes of his doctor, his friend, the woman who would have been his lover if things had gone as they should have. "Why... are you here?" he whispered.
"Why am I here? You need medical help. You're bleeding, and you've collapsed on the floor, and what I just heard from you sounded downright delusional. Erik, I'm taking you to the hospital. Can you stand?"
"You aren't running away?"
Isabelle sighed. "I am not Magda. I am not your wife, Erik. You saved my life; I would be a poor excuse for a human being, not to mention violating my oath as a doctor, if I ran from you when you needed me. Let me help you."
This wasn't right. This wasn't how the story went. This wasn't his life. She could not still be here -- she could not be staying with him, after he had murdered three men and blown out the side of the building. She had to fear him. How could she not fear him?
"Why don't you fear me?" he asked, as she put her arm around him and pulled him up to his feet, taking most of his weight on herself.
"You're Erik Magnus. You're my patient, and my friend, and a damn fine man. I am not going to run away screaming because you saved my life. Now I realize there is something strange happening in your brain right now, I understand you really don't feel well and you're probably experiencing some disordered thinking right now, but I want you to trust me, all right? I'm going to help you get to a hospital, and we'll bandage you up and see if we can help you with that headache you probably have. Okay? I don't fear you, Erik. Can you trust me?"
He was so weak, so sick. He didn't even believe this was happening. But if she wouldn't run away... then yes, he trusted her.
"Yes," he whispered.
"Good man. Now come on, let's see if we can get down the stairs, because I doubt the elevator's working right now."
He staggered, letting her take most of his weight, until some of the weakness and dizziness and the weird sparkly things happening in his head had passed and the world had started to feel real again. Erik straightened up. "We... can take the elevator. It is working."
"Erik, you are not up to using your powers--"
"I'm not. Just to tell that the elevator isn't broken. You are a very strong woman, Isabelle, but I don't think you can carry me down twelve flights of stairs and I don't feel strong enough to make it on my own."
"All right." She smiled at him. "You seem to be feeling a little bit better now. Are you?"
"I... think I am recovering, but my... something hurts. I can't describe it. It's like a pulled muscle, but it's inside my head. I think I've strained something with my powers."
"I agree. Let's see if we can get to the bottom of this and get you well."
He propped himself against the back wall of the elevator, magnetizing himself to it just so slightly without really willing it, only so he would not fall down, and looked at Isabelle. She was still here. She hadn't run away.
The Americans had betrayed him. For all he knew someone in Mossad might have been in on it. But not all humans were betrayers. Not all humans had declared themselves his enemy.
Once they got to Isabelle's car, he sprawled across the back seat and closed his eyes. He trusted her.
Erik let himself fall asleep.