AUTHOR´S NOTE:

First of all, thanks to the ones of you who posted reviews:-)

ARCLIGHT: I never really cared for Scott, I have to admit, but I aways liked Magneto a lot. Surely also has to do with IanMcKellen. And yeah, it was so sad to watch what happened to him! On the theory you mentioned in your review... hm... what makes you so certain to think the author thinks the same way, Eric does? ;-)

INNOCENZIA: Thanks:-) Not what you would have expected? Neither did I expect the story to continue like this. I sooo wished for Mystique to come and join him, poor fellow he was having to play chess on his own!

BROADWAYPOETRESS

Hehe, seems very familiar to me... I went with a friend too and both of us cried!

Yep, this will be continued, here you go. Hope you enjoy it.

DISCLAIMER: The usual yadda yadda...

Chapter 2

The mutant he once was...

When Eric came home, there was noone to greet him and for some reason this filled him with grim satisfaction. The brooding silence that met him when he opened the door was much better company than all those follish, happy people down in the park. He did not know why he had gone there. Maybe his heart had simply yourned for a little light, a small sense of normality. Yet, this was not normality. Nor was the place he had just entered.

He knew it would have been best to abandon what had been his home for all these years and not a home only, but also a fortress. In all these years the small island had been his stronghold against what he had felt to be more of a threat than any mutant could be: humans. Magneto´s lair had never been a hiding place in the ordinary sense, rather a kind of retreat from the absurdity of what this world and their humans called normal. Here, he had felt like the mutant he had been. Here had been the retreat and operation base of the brotherhood. But now... no more. The rooms were empty, the walls, many of them black and carved from the very bones of the rocks the buildings stood on, were heavy with the silence of recognition that times had changed. And even though this place was still a secret, even though he had not been here for a while and even though he knew the place would never again be the same, the lair was still his home. Or rather the home of the mutant he had once been. Somehow the old man he now had become did not really fit, he thought with a grim and joyless smile when he entered the silent rooms.

Even without his abilities he had reached the place easily. It was hidden and only few knew about the lair´s whereabouts. Even though the brotherhood had been instable more than once, especially in these times after his plans to turn the leaders of this world into mutants had failed, never had any word about this place reached the outside world. And thus it had stayed a secret. There had been much speculation about the place where Magneto had been hiding all these years and although he had been travelling a lot for what he had tried to achieve, this had always been what had most felt like home... Home... this word seemed strange and unfamiliar to his own ears. Home was something, kids associated with their families, something that parents thought of when thinking about where to go after work. The part of his childhood he remembered so well, as the wounds that had been caused in these years ran so deep, had never tasted the sweetness of anything that had been worthy of being called ´home.´

Everything about this place had remained unchanged. The room next to his bed chambers where he had worked many nights, was still the same, and yet it seemed to him as things had turned upside down. When he came to think about why this was so, he did not need long till it struck him why this place no longer suited him: it was all the metal around, all those things that reminded him of what he had once been, or rather... who he had once been and what he had been forced to become.

He had not been surprised to find the place emtpy. Noone was left and he grimly forced himself not to think about who had once been sharing this place with him. They had been part of the brotherhood, his brotherhood, but these times were gone. Gone forever. All those that had backed him, had followed him, looking up to him in awe yet never truly understanding his aims, were gone... they had all fled and would never return. He felt foolish about ever having thought of them as his equals.

As he realized now, he had spent the last few minutes standing in the doorframe of the door that led to his study. A bleak, simple, large room with a single desk fashioned of black iron in the middle, dominating the room in a gloomy manner. Yes, this had been Magneto´s realm, an ambiance that had fitted his grim taste for things. From some impuls he walked over to the heavy chair, sat down on it and closed his eyes, lids suddenly heavy. The metal back under his hands suddenly felt colder than he had ever felt it to be. Cold. Reminder of something that had passed, was gone. For a moment he remained in this state, once more giving in to the confusing mix of thoughts that were torturing his brain. Maybe it was time to accept that it was over. There was nothing to bring back what had once been. Nothing. Maybe, he thought cynically, he should look for a new place to stay; although nobody knew of this lair, it would have only reminded him of what had happened, day after day.

Drowsyness started to ingulf his senses, made him feel dizzy, his arms and legs feel heavy and tired. Peace. Sleep. Maybe it was as simple as that and a little rest was all he needed. Still, the disturbing thoughts did not leave him as his conscious entered a dream like state – the visions kept haunting him. Jean, an evil he had set free, Charles´ face before he died... and the horrid feeling of weekness and disbelief that had captured every fibre of his body and soul when the ´cure´ had entered his blood. Maybe this was the worst memory of all... maybe...

His eyes snapped open, his mind being brutally ripped out of a stream of nightmare-like pictures when some snapping sound entered his mind. He was alert with a start, but could not locate at first what had woken him until he saw it... still rolling over the dark floor was some item which he recognized as a small biro with an iron magnetic hilt. He must have pushed it from the desk with his arm being popped up to support his head. His arm had slid and must have pushed the thing to the ground, he thought as he watched it come to a halt. He instantly thought of continuing his nap somewhere else, but something told him things had somehow changed. Without being able to tell why, he suddenly knew someone was present near him. He was unable to tell what made him feel this with certainty, he simply knew... and the next thought to enter his mind was him being a powerless and weak old man, only a shadow of the mutant he had once been, unable to defend himself against anybody who might have come to ...

There were steps close by and although his mind was racing, he did not move. He straightened in his chair, listening intensely. A grim satisfaction suddenly spread inside him: if this was the moment they were coming for him, so be it. He would meet them with pride, with dignity. He would not give them the triumph of overpowering an old and weak dodderer. His eyes narrowed in grim expectation. His gaze focussed the door he had left open... and it was hard for him to hold back a sound of surprise when he saw the slim figure stepping through it, cautiously entering the room.

"Why have you come back?" Erik greeted the boy who was standing a few steps away from where he was sitting, eyeing him in a way he could hardly describe. "I would have expected you to go back to your... friends." Sarcasm had always been a talent of his. Maybe a survival strategy.

The young man on the other side of the room leaned against the door frame, his blond hair being a contrast to the blackness of the wall. "I thought I would find you here." he said instead of directly answering his question. "I wondered about what the brotherhood would do next.."

"The brotherhood?" Eric had raised his voice slightly so it echoed from the walls. "I thought you to be smarter than this. Smart enough to know that the brotherhood has ceased its existence."

He could tell the boy had been somewhat waiting for a statement like this, as there was a small flash of emotion in his vivid eyes. However, Erik did not know whether Pyro had expected this answer... or another.

"So it is true." the boy then said and the question he had surely intended sounded rather like a statement. "The cure..."

"Have you come back to debate what is obvious, St.John?" Erik replied in a dangerously low voice that, when still being Magneto, would have made the boy shut up on an instance. Now the effect had somewhat lessened and did not even keep the young mutant from flipping something in his pocket. A lighter most obviously, Eric guessed as although John had constructed a kind of glove with a lighter mechanism in it in order to switch on flames in an instant whenever he found it to be appropriate (which was quite often) he had never quite given up his annoying habit of flipping the lid of a lighter.

"John?" he just said. "You call me John?" The young mutant shifted his position, crossing his arms in front of his chest, letting the lighter at peace. "It was you who told me, I was Pyro. A god among insects."

Eric sighed and replied nothing. It was simply not necessary, he thought and although he had to admit he had been somewhat happy to see a familiar face, he almost began to wish John had not come back.

"Why have you really come back, John?" he asked, insisting on not calling the boy by his mutant name. If nothing was left of Magneto´s pride and power, at least the power to chose his words to tease would not be taken from him.

"I don´t know really..." The boy shrugged and remained where he was. They had never been too close, always had Pyro kept distance between them which resulted from the most obvious admirance he had regarded the older man with. Respect, maybe even mingled with a slight hint of fear.

"Whatever has happened, I will not forsake the brotherhood. I am still a mutant you know!" he said in a manner that made Magneto smile inwardly. John gave a flick of his hand and a bright, small ball of fire appeared in his palm. Magneto perked an eyebrow. "Indeed. Who would have guessed?" he mumbled sarcastically, but if the young mutant had heard his biting remark at all, he kept silent about it.

"You are still you." the young one went on and now there was a light in his eyes. "and I have become more powerful since I left school. I am sure there still are some of the brotherhood out there, we only need to gather them again. If I led the Brotherhood, I´m sure we..."

He could not help it and chuckled. "St. John, leading the brotherhood?" He got up and walked towards the young mutant. "Well, it flatters me having made you aware of your strenghts as a mutant but still I am somewhat disappointed of you to think it is no more than a child´s game to keep up what took me years to establish. With all due humility, my young friend, Magneto was one of the most powerful mutants on this planet, so do not consider yourself appropriate to take up his mantle that easily."

Eric´s voice had hardened with the last words and with grim satisfaction he noticed the boy´s eyes flicker insecurly as if searching how much of the man in front of him was still the mutant he had chosen to follow. Then Eric slowly turned around and left the room, ignoring John who was still standing there, waiting for more to be said.

"I am strong, I am a powerful mutant, and you know it!" the boy started again and Eric thought a slight quiver of anger had entered the young man´s voice. The boy did not yet dare to raise his voice against him regardless of what had happened, but there was a good deal of determination, will and... despair. He turned to look at the stern face of the young mutant and remembered the moment in the forest, only a few days ago when Pyro had told him he would have killed Charles if he, Magneto, had told him to. Eric sadly realized that this boy had never truly understood his aims... and in this moment he asked himself how many of those, following him blindly, ever had.

"I see myself in you" Eric said with a low voice, turned around and walked away. "A long time ago." John did not follow him and said no more, but Eric continued, then stopping in his pace. "Do not mistake determination and lust for power. Never." He slowly shook his head before making a few more steps. Before he closed the doors of his bedchambers behind, him he added, with a low voice, yet clear for the young mutant to comprehend: "There have been too many who have made this mistake and too many, who have suffered from it. Always keep that in mind, St. John!"