A.N: I hope you people enjoy this, it took me all night to write! Also, any German I used in this chapter may not be translated correctly, because I used google translate and we all know how reliable that is. So, sorry if it's incorrect! Also, I am extremely proud of the first part of this chapter. Oh, and warnings for off-screen torture that's a bit graphic.

Angel was frightened, and she had every right to be. She had watched the doctors rip Azazel away from her day after day, until one day, he had not come back. She knew her time was swiftly coming to a close in this facility. She still held out hope, though. Since Erik had been captured as well, that meant that at least Raven knew to start looking for them. She would probably take a few days to get backup together, but she would come for them.

Angel was frightened, but she was trying to be strong. She kept telling herself, just a few more days and the calvary would come for them. Mabye Raven would bring the Professor, the man she hadn't seen in almost a year. The man who had offered her a home, a family, a team to call her own, and she had turned it down because she had been too frightened of the unknown. A family that loved her? A place she could call home? No, she had only known fear and humiliation to stem from her mutation. She could not see how Charles Xavier could keep such blissful hope in the human race, when she had seen the worst of the worst.

Erik was here with her now, though. He was trying to be brave enough for both of them, but she knew beneath the veneer of strength and hope he provided for her, he was just as frightened as her. He tried to keep her spirits up, keep her hoping for a happily ever after, and she truly appreciated it. Though Magneto was brilliant at giving anti-human, thought-provoking speeches to the masses, Erik Lehnsherr was terrible putting his thoughts and feelings into words. He couldn't comfort successfully, even when he tried exponentially hard. She was simply in too much pain to hear him half the time. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear, and she screamed in agony. The doctors had already taken one of her wings (for research purposes, you understand dear, don't you?) and the other was torn and frayed. Even when it was absorbed into her own body, it was nothing but a steady, fiery throb.

A thick sweater she had conned out of one of the more sympathetic guards was all that guarded her against the cold of the concrete cell surrounding her. She swore that they blasted the cells with arctic air, just to make them that much more uncomfortable. The thing was, though, that she wasn't totally sure that the cold was just from sitting day after day on a cold, concrete floor. It had been a creeping sensation from one day to the next, but she knew when the world started getting colder and colder that she wouldn't be much longer for this world. Her fight was nearly depleted, though she still spit fire at the guards that manhandled her so roughly day after day.

When they came for her once again, early in the morning, she felt something within her snap and die, and she knew she wouldn't be returning to the cell that night. If the anticipatory looks of predatory glee on half of the guards' faces was anything to go by, she knew the doctors had something horrific planned. Erik seemed to realize it too, because he positioned himself between her and the guards, one final resistance to show his support, his hope. For someone who held so little faith in people, he seemed to have an unlimited amount in Charles and Raven.

Erik scrabbled for Angel's hand, holding her close, using his body as a shield. He was sluggish and bleary-eyed, but his defiance was something that could never be dampened. "You won't hurt her again. Not today," he demanded, holding her tight as they guards stepped closer.

"Oh, I don't know. Not quite sure what the docs have planned for your little girlfriend today. But let's just say one thing; I bet your girl's a screamer, ain't she?" The guard let off a full-throated laugh at that, and Erik decided he would be the first to die by his hand once he figured out how to get out of there.

"There's no need to be crude, idiot," another guard grumbled, stepping forward. He stared between the two mutants huddled on the floor and sighed. Erik studied him closely, though his brain functioned far slower than he was used to. The man was reluctant to do as he had been ordered, but he was still going to do it. He just wasn't going to be an ass about it.

It was men like that that really set fire to Erik's blood. The men who knew what they were doing was wrong, but did it anyway. The men who simply followed orders.

"Sorry about this, buddy," he said, and then there was the butt of a rifle slamming into his head. He fell back against the floor, his eyes unfocused and bleary as he tried to move. They couldn't take Angel away, not after that omnious conversation.

The door had been slammed in his face long before he finally pulled himself back up. Angel stood on the other side of the metal bars, planted in the center of the gaggle of guards. Their eyes met, and Erik felt tears prick at his eyes.

I'm so sorry, he screamed in his mind. He knew that she was no telepath, but she didn't have to have powers to see the grief and pain leaking from the man's grey eyes. Angel gave him a shaky smile, standing tall and proud for one last time. If she was going to die today, she would do it with her head held high. They would not take that from her.

When she disappeared from sight, Erik stared around at the empty cell. The sweater she been snuggled beneath moments before now lay in a wadded pile in the corner. Dragging himself towards it, he curled up and wrapped his hands up in the soft wool, breathing in her scent, committing it to memory. It hurt everytime they stole someone away from him. First his Mama and Papa, then Charles, the children; now Angel, too. She had been in his care, under his protection, and a fat lot of good that had done her. Erik felt the cracks in his mind forming, splintering just so under the immense strain, and realized that he getting dangerously close to his breaking point.

And then they came for him, too, because of course they did. They couldn't just take away his friend and rub his face in the fact, but they would destroy him a bit more, as well. He was dragged down the hall, barely conscious after that emotional turmoil. He was just so tired, down to the bone. It didn't help that they kept him on a steady stream of sedatives that were doing their damnedest to keep his brain foggy and his limbs heavy.

Strangely enough, the doctors simply restrained him to the table and then left him there. Erik found that confusing until he heard something coming from the next room over. It was a sort of soft buzzing, but he couldn't make out just what it was. As he strained his ears to make out specific sounds, Angel's glass-shattering scream came through loud and clear. Erik flinched, his eyes wide as he stared at the wall. He tugged on the restraints, flailing and pulling, but he was stuck. This was to be their new torture; they would hurt Angel, and make him listen to it. Every scream, every sob, every plea would pass by his ears and he couldn't even ignore it.

She sobbed out when the buzzing stopped, and then something that sounded frighteningly like a saw buzzed to life, and she was screaming again. Erik heard what he assumed was bone breaking, and she screamed again. It sounded more watery this time, and Erik closed his eyes. He had heard enough men die with liquid in their lungs, whether it was water or blood, the end result was usually the same. The laughter of a small group of men echoed through the wall and Erik's hands tightened into fists. If only he could fight back, could save her. Where the hell was Raven?

Picturing just what he would do to these doctors, these soldiers, just about anyone in the building calmed him slightly in the silence. When Angel started yelling, screaming her throat raw, Erik felt tears slid from his closed eyelids. And then, in the middle of a gut-wretching scream, she was cut off. There was silence, and then there was silence. Erik knew the difference between the quiet that came while you were trying to catch you breath, trying to keep yourself alive, and the silence that came when there was nothing left.

Angel was gone.

His heart stopped in his chest. His breath stilled in his lungs. His blood froze in his veins. There was nothing, now. No one to remain strong for, no one to lie to. Alles ist nicht gut, not anymore.

Trask's pet telepath chose that moment to step forward, a grim smile on her face.

"You're next, dearie," she promised, stroking his hair. He felt his stomach protest, and if there had been anything in there, he knew he would have thrown it up. A doctor stepped forward, brandishing the longest needle he had ever seen before. His shirt was hiked up and the needle uncerimoniously jammed into his hip, right down to the bone. Erik was too weak to hold back his scream of agony, the fire pulsing through his body the last thing he registered before he fell in the black pit of unconciousness.

"You're staying here with me, Raven. If it was just you going in there, I know you could take care of yourself. But you have to think of the child. What if you get hurt? What if it gets hurt?" Charles pleaded with his sister. They sat parked outside of the building that Charles had tracked Erik and Angel to, after they had gotten Cerebro up and running once more.

Raven was being incredibly stubborn, though.

"I have to go in, Charles. I'll be fine. I have to find them. Bring them home." The determination in her eyes did not ease Charles' fears. Her face softened then, and she reached out for him. "You'll keep us safe, you always do. Just don't let anyone see us, and we'll be fine. I promise."

Charles wasn't happy about it, but he knew he wouldn't be able to talk her out of going with the boys. Hank had, of course, offered his services. The surprise had been Alex showing up on their doorstep, saying he had heard through the grapevine that they might need some firepower.

Charles hadn't asked how he had heard, but he could only guess. He had signed on to help after he had heard just what was happening. "Angel was my friend, too. And I can't just let her and Erik get cut up into little pieces." He had taken one took at a green-looking Raven, and quickly tacked on, "And that Azazel-guy, he seemed like an okay sort of guy. Can't forget him." Raven had smiled at that, and tugged Alex in to a bone crushing hug.

"Are we ready, then?" Alex asked, leaning over the seat to stare at them. The van was small; he had heard every word. Though he didn't say it out loud, he met Charles' eyes and thought, We'll take care of her. Don't worry, no one's dying on our watch. Though it was still frightening, Charles smiled and patted him on the shoulder.

As they readied themselves to infiltrate the building, Charles readied his mind. Though his telepathy was a bit rusty, he was fairly confident he would perform admirably.

Alex opened his door, and they trooped out.

It was time.

His blood felt like it was on fire. His body felt like it had been on the losing side of a fight with a bulldozer. And his brain was pounding in his skull. He shifted his weight just slightly and felt like all of his bones had been broken overnight. The familiar blue sweater Angel had left behind caught his attention, and he snatched it up, shoving his face into the fabric. Though he would never admit it, a few tears leaked from his eyes and soaked into the sweater. He had never felt this much agony before, and he had an incredibly high pain tolerance.

Something was wrong. He felt wrong. He couldn't place his finger on just what was so different, but the fact that it had taken him far too long to crawl from one side of the cell to the other to retrieve the sweater, even if he was injured, was bouncing about his head. If he could just think clearly, he might be able to piece the clues together.

And then Trask was standing at his cell door.

"Ah, hello little Erik." Erik bristled at the words. That had been Shaw's favorite greeting, and this already felt like a reenactment of his first meeting with the former Nazi. "We're going to do some tests today. No surgery for you today, we'll let you recover somewhat. For now, we're going to focus on your gifts."

Erik's eyes widened at that. Blindly, he reached out with his senses and nearly collapsed in relief when he could feel the metal around him once more. After the intitial joy, Erik's eyes narrowed and he glared up at Trask from the floor, reaching his hand out to impale the little man that had killed his friends.

But nothing happened.

The metal had gone just as fast as it had appeared.

"Was...?" he mumbled, and then realized that he wasn't speaking English, but German. He stumbled over himself for a moment, his eyes wide in panic. What had these idiots done to him now?

"Now, Erik. We're going to try a little exercise." Trask removed a coin from his coat pocket and set it on the floor, and Erik felt like he might burst into tears at any moment. They couldn't be doing this. The telepath could not have thought that recreating traumatic events in his life would have an impact on him. Right?

"I'm going to count to three, and you're going to move the coin. Or," and then he turned toward the door, where Raven was shoved inside, her face panicked and bloody as she wrapped her arms protectively around her belly. The telepath stood behind her, a wicked smile on her ace as she placed a knife to the woman's throat.

"One," Trask counted off, and Erik didn't even think. He turned back to the coin on the floor and shoved back everything that he felt, trying to find that place that Charles had carved out of him. The place between rage and serenitity, he ha said, but all Erik could feel was panic and fear with the knowledge that if he failed, someone he loved was going to be murdered before his eyes. Again.

Refusing to see Raven take the place of his mother, he screamed in agony as he tried to feel the metal, make it listen to his commands. They had apparently taken him off of the suppressor, but for some reason he couldn't grasp the metal with his mind.

"Two," he drawled out, turning towards Raven, who let out a muffled whimper when the knife dug deeper. Erik was trying, he really was, and he found himself calling out to her, just like he had called out to his mother all those years ago.

"She is not going to tell you 'all is well', little boy. She cannot speak as it is. She will be dead in moments if you do not do as you are told, though." The telepath was practically writhing with glee, drinking in his panicked features as he struggled.

And oh, he tried. It felt just like it had all those years ago in Shaw's office. Worse, maybe, because he knew he could do what was being asked of him quite easily, yet it wasn't working for some reason.

"Three," Trask said sadly, and he turned to the telepath, who nodded in joy and then turned Raven to face her.

"Raven!" Erik shouted, watching in horror as the telepath wasted no time in shoving the knife through Raven's chest. The blue scaled mutant clutched at her chest, trying to pry the knife from her heart, but was grossly unsuccessful. She fell to her knees, and then she was face down on the ground. Erik felt everything stop as he watched her fall, and then his old friends Agony and Rage stepped in and everything metal in the room began to vibrate violently. Trask was beaming at him, the telepath was staring blankly, and Erik was practically frothing at the mouth.

"Nein!" he shouted, throwing his fists to the floor, collapsing in his misery. "Nein, nein nein!" he screeched, tears clouding his vision as he choked on the word. His powers reacted and the metal flew through the air, slammed on the floor, and shattered lights in the ceiling, echoing his pain.

"Very good!" Trask praised, echoing Shaw once more. "I don't need to go on now, do I?" he asked softly, staring down at the wreck that was Erik Lehnsherr. He had crawled towards the edge of his cell, reaching through the bars for Raven, though he could quite reach her.

"You should put him out of his misery," Trask said weakly, waving his hand towards the distraught prisoner. The telepath smiled silkily and raised a hand. Erik slumped forward, his eyes glued to Raven. As his lids slowly fell closed, he saw her body shimmer and fade away, and then he was once again unconcious.

The facility was easy enough to sneak in to. Alex's motto of act like you belong, and no one will ask you questions was proving true. Though, he supposed having a telepath that instantly made everyone forget they had even seen them was helpful, as well.

Alex had taken the lead, with Raven safely stuck between him and Hank. They had discussed this before entering; obviously, the mad scientists wouldn't stick their super secret prisoners on the main floor, where just anyone could walk in on them, so they would have to sneak down to the lower levels.

Once they had found the stairs, they practically flew down them. When they reached the door to the lowest floor, Alex heard a conversation from the other side.

"Did you see what they did to the little one, though? I thought he was going to start crying when they tricked him into thinking they had killed his little blue skinned buddy."

That caught Alex's attention and he turned toward the man that had spoken. "Poor bastard," another man muttered to the first. The two men passed by the door, and Alex slipped through, heading the way the men had come from.

When they found a room with bars on the door, he assumed that they had found the room with the prisoners. Hank disabled the key pad and then Alex shoved the door open slowly, checking for guards. Finding none, the moved on, checking the cells.

"Erik! Angel! Azazel!" Alex hissed, keeping his voice low just in case. They spread out to check each cell, but it seemed that there was only one that was inhabited. A little boy that was about six years old sprawled out on the floor, dried tear tracks staining his little face. Though it wasn't anyone they had come to rescue, they couldn't just leave a little kid there to be tortured.

Hank fiddled with the lock on the door, and then it was swinging open. Raven stared inside the cell silently while Alex reached in and tried to shake the boy awake. When he glanced back, he saw her eyes were hard and unhappy, though if it was because no one she wanted had been recovered or if the boy had survived where the others hadn't, he wasn't sure. The boy finally blinked open bleary eyes and looked up at Alex. There was a strange flicker of recognition in his grey eyes, though Alex was sure he had never seen the tiny, dark haired boy before.

"Verwustung!" he shouted, before his face screwed up in concentration and he stuttered, "Ha-Havok!" Though Alex was extremely confused, the boy reached out and hugged him as tightly as he could. Deciding to go with the flow, Alex tugged the boy up to his hip and followed Hank to the other cells. When they passed Raven in the doorway, the little boy burst into tears.

"Rabe! Rabe, du warst tot!" he shrieked, looking shocked and excited all at once. His watery smile was adorable, and Raven had to give him a small smile in return, though she had no idea what he had just said.

"Hey, listen kid. Are there any other prisoners? Have you seen a tall man, a dark haired girl, or a red guy?" If they weren't here, he didn't know where else to look.

The boy's face scrunched up, and then he shook his head. "No one but me," he said slowly, enunciating each word like he was having a hard time getting them out. "Run, now. Run! Du rennst, du rennst!" he commanded. He had grown panicked in seconds, and Alex wasn't sure why until he lifted his eyes and came face to face with the scariest woman he had ever seen. She was beautiful, but in an I'm going to stab you thirty-nine times in the neck with a pencil, and laugh while I do it sort of way.

"Du rennst!" the boy demanded once again, and Alex had to agree. Running seemed the best course of action. Their little group took off down the hall, the woman's deep laugh echoing down after them.

"You can run, and you can hide, little Lehnsherr, but I will find you. I will always find you," she promised, and Alex's eyes widened. Little Lehnsherr? What the hell was she spouting off back there?

The little boy cradled against his chest was shaking, tiny sobs breaking through as he stuffed his head beneath Alex's chin and gripped his shirt with white knuckles.

"Don't worry, kid. We'll get you out of here." Alex scrounged up one of the basic lines of German he could remember, and said softly, "Alles ist gut, alles ist gut." His calm words seemed to have the opposite effect on the little boy, as he screamed out and flinched so hard in Alex's arms that he nearly dropped him.

Finally, they were through the doors. The car Charles was waiting in was parked around the corner and they made a bee-line for it, piling in in a mess of limbs and shouts. Hank jumped in to the driver's seat, flooring the car and squealing away from the curb, accelerating so he could barrel away from the building as fast as humanly possible. Once they were a safe distance away, he slowed down and allowed himself to breath.

"So?" Charles asked, looking between his sister and his former pupil. All he had seen of the mystery child in Alex's lap was a mess of dark hair.

"This kid is the only prisoner we found. He said he was the only one left. He pretty much only speaks German though, so I didn't get a lot of information out of him," Alex explained, rubbing a large hand up and down the child's back, trying to calm him down.

When the child shifted at the sound of his voice, Charles' mind stuttered to a halt. Though he had never seen the child in real life, he had seen enough memories containing him that he knew exactly who he was.

"Erik?" he croaked out, staring at the boy in confusion. "What have they done to you?"

All eyes turned to Charles, and then realization clouded their faces. Alex leaned the child back to get a better look at his face and zeroed in on his eyes. That recognition he had seen now made more sense.

"Erik?" Charles asked again, and the boy raised his bloodshot eyes to meet Charles' gaze. "What happened?"

The boy seemed to debate with himself for a long moment before he reached up and tapped his own temple, his eyes wide and inviting. Though Charles was shocked by the invitation, he nodded and reached out with his own mind to meld with Erik's.

Once he had the whole story, Charles held his arms out to Erik, and the boy tentatively transferred himself from Alex's grip to Charles' offered embrace.

"Charles? What is going on?" Raven's plea was heartbreaking. If they had been able to do that to Erik, then what had they done to her other friends?

"I'm sorry, Raven," Charles began, running a soothing hand through Erik's hair even as the child sobbed into his shoulder. "Azazel was killed shortly after he was captured. Angel was killed a few days ago, right before they did this to Erik. He has his adult memories and thoughts, but he is exhausted, both mentally and physically. I think after a decent meal and a great deal of rest, he'll be more himself. Still tiny, but himself."

The others watched as Raven slumped in her seat, her yellow eyes glistening with tears. Her hand went to her mouth, trying to keep herself from being sick everywhere. What was she going to do now? All her friends were dead, the father of her baby was dead. Where would she go now?

"Raven," Charles beckoned softly, his hand wrapping around her wrist in a calming gesture. "You know you still have a home with me. I take care of you, both of you. You are always welcome back home, no matter what."

Her shuddering breath wracked itself from her chest, and she felt her heart rate slow. Is this shock? she wondered as she felt herself growing colder and colder. The thought of continuing on without Azazel at her side sent her mind into tremors. She couldn't get past that fact. Though they had only known each other for less than a year, they had been some of the best months of her life.

"I'll keep you safe, sister. I promise you that." Charles rubbed her back, held her hand, promised her one thing after another until she felt herself calming slightly. She still couldn't see through her tears, or breath comfortably through the lump in her throat, but at least she knew she still had her family by her side.

"Alles ist gut, alles ist gut," they heard Erik mumble sleepily from his seat on Charles' lap. He looked half coherent, but the fuzzy smile he sent her way told her that he wasn't in the present at all. "Mama sagte, alles ist gut. Alles ist gut."

Somehow, that felt like a terrible lie.