A/N: The poem in the beginning is by William Butler Yeats and is called The Rose of Battle. It's about a 35 line poem and I didn't feel the need to put the entire thing in. So you only get the parts I like. Next chapter will deal with Ororo's disappearance and the murder. Remember- it's only been a few hours since Magneto's arrest and Ororo's kidnapping.

Ororo tossed and turned on the makeshift bed that had been left in her cellar cell. She had been fed a mediocre dinner of chicken and left for the night. Theoretically, she should probably fall asleep so she would attentive when they came back. However, this was no ordinary situation; her mind was spinning, heart was racing, and the questions were turning. Storm was helpless in this condition which was not something she was used to.

Now, she lay on the sheets, staring at the dark ceiling, trying to trick her insomnia into slumber. As a small child, before her parents died, if she could not fall asleep, her mother would sing to her softly, as not to disturb her sister. Then, on the streets, there were no nights to sleep during; sleep was the enemy. When Charles Xavier brought her to his mansion, she found herself wondering the halls, taking in the new world of America. Some nights, Charles himself would ease her restless mind. Before Apocalypse, she did not have much weighing on her mind; sleep came easy for the first time in her life. Tonight, however, there was no one to comfort her and nowhere to go. All she had now was her mind.

"Rose of all roses, rose of all the world, the tall thought-woven sails, that flap unfurled above the tide of hours, trouble the air, and God's bell buoyed to be the water's care," she whispered to herself. "While hushed from fear, or loud with hope, a band with blown, spray-dabbled hair gather at hand. Turn if you may from battles never done, I call, as they go by me one by one…"

Ororo turned in a daze, sleep in her eyes, to look at the man next to her. The light had awoken her, but she was just tired enough not to care. Erik was sitting up with a book open on his lap. The glow that had roused her was from his bedside lamp which was lighting the pages.

"Did I wake you?" his voice was merely a whisper and his eyes never left the page. There were some moments when she wondered if she was spending time with Erik Lensherr or Magneto. Tonight was one of them.

"What time is it?" she murmured back.

"Four."

"In the morning? How long have you been up?" Early hours like this were the only time one would find the formidable Storm disoriented.

"A while." Still, his eyes never left the pages. Under further inspection, Ororo saw that it was an older book and had been well read. The binding was tearing and certain pages had been marked for future reference.

"What are you reading?"

"Assorted poetry." Finally, he stopped reading and met her eyes. Seeing the nonplussed expression on her face, he sighed and explained, "I read it when I find myself unable to sleep. It was a gift from years ago."

"Charles or Magda?" Erik shot her a sharp glance, reminded that someone else was just as good at reading people as he was.

"Charles. He, naturally, knew of my troubles with sleeping, and thought it might help."

"And did it?"

"Yes."

"What are you reading right now?"

"Yeats." He glanced back at the page and looked at it for a moment, before his voice lowered again. "Rose of all roses, rose of all the world. You, too, have come where the dim tides are hurled upon the wharves of sorrow, and heard ring the bell that calls us on; the sweet far thing..."

"…and when at last, defeated in His wars, they have gone down under the same white stars, we shall no longer hear the little cry of our sad hearts, that may not live nor die." The words lulled her to sleep; words she had committed to memory in tribute to him.

Across town, Magneto was sitting in his own cell with his own thoughts. His children were safe with Charles, he knew that, but it did not keep him from worrying. Had he been a better father in the past, they might listen to his orders. However, they were as stubborn as he was, perhaps more, and he had a feeling that unless Charles miraculously gained some control over them they would be doing whatever they pleased. Which included breaking him out of prison.

Even though it would be easy enough to do, he could not have them involved. No one was going to be punished because of his actions. Innocence meant nothing to the Homo sapiens around him. He wished silently that Ororo would not admit to their affair to save him. Like Charles suspected, Erik did have an alibi for that night. It was in the arms of a goddess, of one of Charles' oldest students, of a role model for the children. Fraternizing with the enemy would not go over well with the X-Men. Especially Charles. That had been their first fight. Ororo had wanted him to come to the Mansion; to live with the X-Men and, more specifically, with her.

"I don't see what the big deal is, Erik! We are all on the same side now. Ever since Apocalypse-" She wasn't yelling, but the frustration came through loud and clear.

"This has nothing to do with Apocalypse or sides or war!"

"Then swallow your pride," came the exasperated reply. Storm shook her long white hair in confusion. "I know Charles will let you back in and the kids will get over it."

"He will kill me." There was a torn look on Erik's face. She skirted around the couch that separated them and tried to lay a hand on his arm.

"Who Logan?" she almost laughed, but caught herself as he pulled away. Magneto stalked over to the window, resting his hand against the cold glass.

"No. Him I could handle." There was a small silence. "Just drop it, Ororo. End of discussion."

"Not until you explain to me why. After that, I will not bring it up again." She could not get a good look at him from where she was standing. But she heard him curse and hit the window.

"He told me to stay away from you, damn it." Ororo half expected to see anger in his eyes as he whipped around, but instead it was a hollow look of age.

"Who?"

"Charles. Charles Xavier knew me better than I knew myself," he spat. "You remember when you first came to us? When Charles first brought you to the states?"

"Yes. You were there for about a year."

"Call it infatuation or lust or whatever, but you were enticing. Everything about you Ororo screamed my type of woman. Only you were way too young, too innocent, in Charles' eyes." Storm stared at him from across the room, but made no movement while he continued on his rampage. "I got over it soon enough. I never once acted, or was ever going to act, on it. Charles called me out on it, though."

Ororo stared at him with a blank look on her face. Magneto returned her hard stare with a steel look in his eyes. A look that was more at home in battle; the look he wore as he inflicted pain. And it was pain she was feeling.

"What?" One word. One word was all she could manage.

"I have a reputation with women...with lives." Magneto turned and stepped towards her dangerously. "They seem to self destruct. Go down with my own ruin. Suffer my own punishments. However you want to put it, I'm no good for you. At least that is what Charles told me all those years ago. Just like the rest of children, he wanted to keep you safe...keep you pure. He thought you had been damaged enough."

"I was never damaged. Nor was I ever pure. I am not a child any longer. I am very capable of making my own decisions. Surely Charles Xavier, of all people, would be able to realize it."

"And I am telling you not to put yourself in that situation."

"Fine. Have it your way," she snapped.

Storm had picked up her purse and left Magneto alone in the apartment that night. But it hadn't been for long. Perhaps a day had passed before she returned one morning. He knew she would and he hated himself for it. Hated the way he could manipulate people. Hated the way she trusted him. Hated the way she would have done anything for him, like so many women before her.

Nevertheless, that was Ororo. She was the definition of a good, compassionate, forgiving person. Every person she loved came before herself. So, he prayed, for the first time in years, that for once she would be selfish and not try and help him.

A/N: Ok, please do not read Magneto's part the wrong way. He is by no means supposed to come off as creepy there- it wasn't like he was a 50 year old creeper guy hitting on some teenager- he would have been younger too…And I always saw Magneto obsessive over beautiful women; not like 'I'm-gonna-rape-you' obsessive, but he liked his female company. And he had good taste. Ororo is gorgeous. It would be natural for him to have appreciated her looks at a younger age, but like he said, never acted upon anything. That entire passage was for you to understand Charles' position in all of this.