AUTHOR´S NOTE:

Okay guys, new chapter is up. I had a little of a writer´s block but I think it has turned out okay now. Hope you like it... :-)

Deus X Machina: Yup, Mystique. I bet you´ll like this chapter then. ;-)

Midget 101: Uhm... yeah, just about what I wanted to say. I understood this line just like EEEEEEEEEEE explained it. He means to show his (and Pyro´s ) superiority as mutants compared to humans.

EEEEEEEEEEE: Interesting nick ;-) Hope I got all Es. Thanks for your review:-D

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CHAPTER 5

OLD FRIENDS AND NEW FOES

"Erik?"

He turned around to face his old friend. Charles Xavier had not left his place behind the desk, but the look in his eyes was warm, yet full of worry. Erik said nothing.

"You know there is hope." the man in the wheelchair said calmly. "I know there is."

Erik smiled sadly, his mimic telling his emotions lies. "No." he said. "No." He was sure Charles was trying to understand what made him leave. They had met as young men and had been friends ever since. They had talked many hours and Charles had been the only one who knew Erik´s whole story... the dark parts included. What had happened in the camps long ago noone knew, but Charles. Yet there were things only one who had lived through all this could understand.

"I know you hate them" Charles said and finally wheeled round the desk towards them. "And I also know you wish it could be different. It will be different one day, Erik. One day we will be accepted. I need your help for this."

"Accepted..." the word sounded like mockery even from his own lips. "I have seen what humans can do, felt what they are capable of. Today they call us ´different´, but tomorrow..." he did not speak on, as both of them knew what he had intended to say. His past lay heavy on him ... ´and it always will.´ The last words had not been his own thoughts, he realized.

"Charles." He put one finger to his temple. "You will find nothing useful here and I ask you not to continue this search."

"I´m sorry." the telepath said. It had been an agreement on both sides. They were friends, they accepted each other and this also implied not using their powers against each other. Lately however, as they had both grown to know they had become more distant, their ideas and aims separated, it had been harder to stick to this rule.

Erik said no more, but just rested his hand on his friend´s shoulder for a moment, both of them silent and then turned to leave.

"Erik!" He would not have been Charles, had he simply let him go. Erik stopped, but did not turn around. He did not want his old friend to see he was struggling with himself, struggling, fighting his inner voices who told them to leave… or to stay.

"You know this place has an open door for mutants. You know I always have an open ear for you."

He nodded. "I know." he said, his voice echoing strangely in the corridor. "But THEY don´t, Charles, and this is what counts." He walked on. "You will remember my words one day, old friend." The day was close when an open door and an open ear would no longer be enough. Soon they would have to fight.

"Erik." He did not stop, but Charles went on. "It is not fair to let this generation pay for the faults of generations passed. They will not repeat their mistakes."

Now he did stop and when he turned around his voice sounded bitter. "Tell me." he said "is it fair to let children pay for the sick ideas of murderers? Could you tell a mutant child that the children who laugh about it at school are not to blame for their insults and rudeness, because they are only imitating the habits of their parents?"

Charles said nothing more and Erik had to keep himself from hurrying towards the exit. Not because of weakness, not because of fear that made him want to leave early, but... he had the intense feeling that his old friend had some quite good points... and that lingering meant the temptation to stay... to believe in the naive hope of Charles Xavier which he so much desired to be able to feel, too. He had often wished to share this man´s enthusiam and spirit when it came to mutant affairs, instead of constantly being tortured by the thoughts of much less pleasant ways of things to turn out. Maybe... maybe Charles would prove right in the end he thought when he put on his hat. He hoped so. He hoped it so much, but deep inside him the thought of a world where mutants were oppressed and treated like second class beings had already taken hold too deeply to remain unnoticed. He needed time, he told himself. Time to think things over. Time to balance the pros and cons, the risks and benefits. He did not want their friendship to end and hoped there would be an alternative from the two of them standing on different sides of the road. The decision would not be easy, he knew. He would take a retreat for some time and think.

However, this day had something gloomy and portentous about it. As Erik Lehnsherr walked along the street he did not yet know that his decision would be a short one. A very short one indeed, triggered by the only person of whom, in later years, he would think as the one person who had ever truly captured Magneto´s intentions.

It was a warm day. Summer was approaching in these early days of June and the sun was shining from a nearly cloudless sky. A day which made the world look like a happy place although it wasn´t. Maybe, Erik thought, it would be one day. A place were humans and mutants could peacefully co-exist, as Charles liked to call it. He almost snorted at the idea, yet he found it tempting, although nearly too good and naive to be true. Future would tell.

It was almost noon when he reached one of the nicest parts of the city. Small homes of well-off families to both sides of the streets, well-kept lawns and the barking of a dog here and there. White fences and a handful of kids´ toys and small bikes idly left on the pavements that led to friendly looking front doors. To him, areas like that always seemed a little too artificial, but maybe this was just because he had never known an idyll like this.

There was a school close-by and as he walked on he heard the bell ring and after a minute or two a crowd of kids and young teens dashed out of the gates and onto the road on their way home. He did not pay much attention to them being involved with his own thoughts. Giving in to his own idle thinking he sat down on the nearest bench and tilted back his head to let the sun shine on his face. For a moment he let himself carry away by the warmth on his skin and almost forgot about his inner conflict. The last few days had been consumed with little else than that.

Still, this moment of peace and silence did not last long. To his annoyance voices suddenly ripped him from his half sleep he had drifted into, making his eyes flutter open. There had been some children running past him, three boys and another kid whose face he could not see as he or she was wearing a jacket with a hood and had the hood drawn into the face. Normally this would not have evoked his attention. Kids were like this, running around, shouting, being a nuisance at times. Yet something told him that what was going on here was not a game... something told him what was about to happen was damn serious.

The kids had gathered around in a distance of about 100 metres from the bench where he was. There was a bus stop where they were with a small shelter. The figure with the hood over the face had backed away from the other three. The child was out of its breath, obviously those boys had been following her and tracked it down by now. Erik looked over to them and scowled slightly. The kids did not even seem to have noticed him. One of the boys laughed and the laughter sounded cruel to Erik´s ears. He knew this sort of laughter. It did not mean joy, it meant pure amusement a person got from torturing another.

"Hey, freak!" another of the boys shouted, kicking an empty coke can which was lying on the floor. He kicked it hard and it hit the leg of the kid in disguise. It could not have hurt too much, Erik thought, but he knew there were worse things than physical pain.

"I´m talking to you!" the boy said in a threatening voice when his victim did not answer. He stepped closer. "I. am. Talking to you, scum!" Again he got no reply. The figure under the hood just flinched when one of the boys kicked at it. The foot did not hit, but the child raised its hands in defense and Erik could see the child was wearing gloves. Gloves in summer.

"Didn´t I tell you you don´t belong here, freak?" the boy who had been talking all the time, shouted. He seemed to be the boss of their little gang. "Didn´t I tell you it ain´t no good idea to show up again here?" He jumped forward and brutally grabbed the kid by the collar. Erik stirred.

"Hey, let her" one of his buddies said half heartedly, but he too was muffling a laughter and grinning wildly. "She´s not worth it, the scum she is." His friend laughed sharply and let the collar go. The small figure of the child shrank against the wall and from what Erik could see from the distance the kid might have been sobbing.

"We told you this is a clean area, scum!" the third boy now fell in. "We don´t want any mutants here." When he lifted his foot to kick the helpless cowering figure Erik had seen enough. He was on his feet in an instant. Before the boy´s kick could show any effect he raised his right hand. Stupid boy, he thought, always so after the lastest fashion. He could clearly sense the ears of the bootlaces from the boy´s shoes were metallic. Within a second or less the boy screamed when his boot was suddenly jerked upwards and in an instant he was lying flat on his back. Another wave from Magneto´s hand and the empty coke can these young roughnecks had used to bully the kid had been turned against them. Like a ping pong ball it rose into the air and then swiftly bounced between the heads of the two boys still standing till they fell, too. More from surprise and shock than pain but the trick had shown its desired effect. They wildly looked around for the one who was behind the attack and seeing him approach they quickly got to their feet, staring at him with wide eyes.

"Who do you call scum?" Erik asked, his eyes cold, his voice low, enough for the young rebels to realise he was too dangerous for them to mess with him. They only stared and stayed silent. He lifted his hand and the coke can lifted from the ground where it had fallen and flew right into his outstretched hand. "I think this belongs to one of you." he said, his voice still dangerously low. The boys gaped in shock, realising how things had gone wrong and after one of them, the boy with the metal bootlace ears, had grabbed his two buddies by their arms, they spun around and fled. Erik did not follow them. They were not worth it, he thought. Just another proof for the fact that the image of a superior homo sapiens was a mistake – a fatal mistake.

He remained standing there for a few seconds and then turned his head to look at the small, hooded shape which was still cowering on the ground. He could not make out a face, let alone distinct features. The child had its gaze lowered as in shame, yet, when he turned his eyes to look, he knew the kid had been watching him with curiosity. When he looked it quickly avoided his gaze, yet it was clear the child had been looking, as he got a short glimpse of a shy pair of eyes. They were yellow. He smiled.

Erik Lehnsherr turned towards the child, walked a few steps and then lowered down to cower opposit of the kid. He looked to the right, to the direction the cowardy tormentors had left to give the child the oportunity to shoot another glance at him and to take away the feeling of being threatened.

"They are gone" he then said in a soft voice. "They will not come back to tease you." The child said nothing and kept the gaze low, yet he could get a glimpse of the face that was hidden under the hood now. No ordinary human face, but a face that was... blue. He smiled again and looked at her.

"Why were they teasing you?" he asked gently although he knew the answer.

For a moment there was silence between them, then the child spoke for the first time. "They were calling me a freak. They always do." The voice of a girl, unmistakably, yet it was fuller, more resonant, almost like two speaking at the same time.

"A freak, hm? Oh, I´m sure you are nothing like that. They are just stupid boys who know nothing." He folded his hands. "Why do you hide your face?" he then said, his voice still gently. "You should not have to hide it." He reached for the hood carefully, intent on trying to sense whether the girl would show resistance, but she didn´t. Softly he pulled the hood back.

The girl was about 12 or 13 he guessed, yet it was a little bit hard to tell her age as she had blue skin and not even smooth skin like a human, but a skin patterned with darker scales around her eyes, down her cheeks and on her forehead, forming a mysterious and fascinating pattern. Her hair was red as fire and reached down onto her shoulders and her eyes, as he had seen correctly, were yellow as a reptile´s.

"Why would anyone call a being as unique as you are one a freak? They would be stupid indeed." he said, smiling. He felt his heart ache when he saw the girl´s eyes were wet from crying and at the same time he felt anger. This was just what he had tried to make Charles understand again and again. It was happening everywhere and even kids participated in this modern witch hunt. Mutants were treated badly, were discriminated against and those with a visible mutation had the hardest lives. He felt utter pity for this girl and suddenly knew he had decided. Charles was wrong and had always been wrong.

"You are... a mutant, too." she said, her eyes curious again now that she had understood he was no threat. He reached out with his hand and the coke can flew towards him, hovering a few inches away from his palm, quickly forming into a little metal ball. He caught the ball, looked at it and smiled. "Yes, I am" he said. "Just as you. You should be proud of what you are, not ashamed. What´s your name?"

She looked at him and scowled, thinking. "Raven..." she then said after a short hesitation. "...I think."

"You think?" he gave back. "What do you parents call you?"

He knew instantly that this had been a bad question when she looked away and new tears came to her eyes. At once he felt anger rising inside him. Another one of those poor creatures, he thought. Another child being abandoned by its own parents for being a mutant.

"Come." he said and reached out his hand. This, he told himself, would be the last mutant child to cry over her existence. And after a short hesitation, the girl reached for her gloves, put them off and put her own, small blue hand in his.

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"Sir?... Sir?"

The taxi-driver´s voice startled him. Erik had been so deep in thought that he had not even heard it. Memories had kept his mind occupied over the last few minutes, memories that were almost 20 years old by now. He flinched a little.

"We´ve arrived". The taxi driver was looking at him, scowling. "Are you all right Sir?" he asked irritated.

"No... yes, I am fine, thank you" Erik said and looked around. Then he paid the driver and climbed out of the taxi. Rain clouds had begun to cover the sky, it was time to head home he thought. Home. A word like home sounded strange to his own ears. He knew he would not find the peace he desired at the lair. Only memories. Memories of his old life and his old friend. The girl with the hood.