A/N: Ok. Here's the deal. I killed the only two computers in our house with some virus I got while writing my research paper for my school final. So, for the past two months I have been barely able to access the internet in general, let alone FF. Therefore, for once, it is not me who has been lazy and not been writing. It is my parents fault for not getting me a computer fast enough and grounding me for messing up the other two in the first place. However. I was able to write the rest of this story in a spiral notebook with a pen and many late nights and scratch outs. So, I will be updating every day now. I have three chapters left. I'm not going to post them all at once, because I still have to type them into the computer and edit them. However, they are written. And I am not dead. I am back. So, let us continue in the drama of Defining the Wicked.

Second A/N: Ok, this note refers to the chapter. If you need a refresher you might want to read the two previous chapters. This chapter takes place right where we left off with Erik and Ororo. Now, this first part with Erik was really powerful for me to write. I never saw Magneto as being particularly religious, so I don't want you to mistaken this chapter as being some sort of inspirational realization or him coming back to God. It is only his inner turmoil. Please don't read into it as some sort of religious thing. I didn't intend for it to be like that. Also, I hope you realize I didn't make Erik weak. He is a man. And he is finally realizing that. Every man has their breaking point.

Erik sat in his cell with his head in his hands on the edge of his bed. This was becoming a permanent position for him. It had been a long time since he had felt this defeated. The fight with Charles had taken every ounce of strength he had left. However, the pain in his gut had to be the sickening feeling that Ororo was in danger. And it was all his fault.

There had only been one other time in his life that the great Magneto had been less than a man; less than human. It always came down to another person, another group feeling they are superior. The time he spent in that concentration camp had hardened him- kept him from ever being human. While many mutants wished for that day that they would be considered equal to their human counterparts, Erik Lensherr had seen humanity at its worst firsthand and there is nothing that could convince him to be like that.

He quickly came to the conclusion that he needed to stop loving. Everyone he loved only ended up hurt. First, it was his parents. They wasted away in those death camps, leaving him only bitter and sorrow-filled memories of the woman who gave birth to him and the man who raised him. Then it was Magda. His first love; the woman he considered to be his only love. He had watched her too waste away. Only her suffering was different from his parents. And Anya. Poor, little Anya. His little girl, his firstborn. She was taken before she could even comprehend what life was, or really, what death was. Her cries will haunt him for the rest of her life; her suffering was perhaps the worst. All because he was a mutant. Not her. Him.

Now, Ororo was suffering for him. The Goddess of Weather. His Goddess. Erik closed his eyes, trying to remember her smile. He tried not to think of her in pain. He tried to imagine her talking to him, laughing with him, walking with him, kissing him, making love to him.

There were tears on his fingertips as he wiped his face. Magneto stood up in a rage, overturning the shelves across from his bed. The small things scattered across the floor- a book (for he was never at piece in his mind), a plate (there was always too much on it, and yet never enough), a bowl (the remains of what he had to carry), and a cup (that was always half empty). Turning back to his bed, he threw his fists onto the mattress, sinking to his knees in a sob. He felt his body, his age, his life. The pain was all there. Every second of every day weighed upon him without mercy. Every choice he had made as Erik Lensherr and every decision he had made as Magneto flashed through his mind.

And then it all ceased. There were no tears. No pain. No thoughts. He stared into space, clasping his hands together. Erik prayed in a way only a desperate man would. Prayed to a god he did not even believe in. Whispered his fears to a prison cell. Gave his heart to a dark room that held his body. Poured out his soul to a stone wall. He did not know who could hear, or if anyone even cared. It did not matter any more. He could have sold his soul to the devil at that moment and never known the difference.

Then, with all the strength of a mutant, Magneto pulled himself up off the floor, straightened his rumpled clothes, splashed water on his raw face, and stepped proudly to the barred door. He called out to the guard.

"I want to speak to the person in charge of my case." The guard looked at him uneasily. He was young, not very experienced, and had probably heard of the mutant's abilities.

"Hey, Roger, go get Chief Harrison."

"No." The word was sharp on his tongue. "I want to see the real man behind all this. They said they called in the FBI. Bring me to them."

"I-I'm not sure I can do that..." Magneto almost felt sorry for him. Then, with only a look the Master of Magnetism could manage, he reached out for one of the bars, feeling the metal under his hand. He could not manipulate it, but the fear was there.

"And I'm not sure that when I get out of here, this bar won't be wrapped around your neck." The young cadet leapt for the phone hanging on the wall. Magneto smirked, staring intently at the poor boy holding a shaking conversation with the Chief of Police.

"Yes sir, I'll bring him." The officer hung up the phone and turned back to his partner. "Roger, get over here. We gotta bring Lensherr to Interrogation 3." The slightly older officer grumbled something about almost being off shift.

Magneto was escorted out of his cell and down the hallway to another room. There were three men, all wearing black suits. He assumed the two standing were merely body guards, there to take care of collateral damage. It was the man sitting comfortably in the chair at the table that Magneto wanted.

"You called?" He was a fat man with a mustache, who looked like he would be more at home taking care of casinos. However, his girth fit his ego all too well. His badge said Fareway, M.

"Actually, my friend here did," said Magneto with a smile, nodding to the young officer he had just intimidated. "I believe he needs a pay raise."

"We all need a pay raise," said the fat man, clearly not bothered by Magneto's natural superiority in a room full of important men. "But that's not what you wanted to see me about, now is it?"

"Well, you caught me," was his flippant response, as if he had been trying to stray away from the fact he had called the meeting in the first place.

"Actually, we did." Magneto nearly lost his cool at the gall of the man sitting on the other side of the table. Nevertheless, he cleared his throat and pressed on.

"I wanted to know why a small, insignificant mutant such as myself, would grab the attention of the FBI for a simple murder case?"

"Oh, don't humor yourself. This has nothing to do with you. I knew Edward personally; I married his sister. I felt that in his honor, I should punish those responsible myself. To make sure the perpetrator was brought to justice."

"So, you have a wife that you love very much?" The malice in Magneto's eye finally got to Agent Fareway. He sat up straighter with a tight look on his face.

"Are you threatening my family?"

"Are you threatening mine?" Magneto's voice was twice as strong as Fareway's. The agent stared at him for a moment before settling down.

"I haven't the faintest idea what you are talking about, Lensherr."

"Of course not. But if you did, I would like to issue a warning." He leaned forward, causing the two bodyguards to shift uncomfortably. "You can sentence me to life in prison. You can hang me from a tree in the middle of town. You can make a spectacle for all mutants, parading my dead body as a warning. However, if any harm comes to her, I swear to you, you will hang right next to me."

"You make pretty heavy threats for a guilty man in chains," chuckled Fareway.

"It isn't me you are going to have to worry about." He eyed the two FBI Agents in the corners. "I'll just be collateral damage."

Ororo held her breath as she gazed at Mayor Edward Kelly's face. All of her options had run out. There was no way they would release her now. He must have guessed her thought process, because he laughed at the panic that rose in her blue eyes.

"Stand her up. I believe even mutants should die like a real man, facing their death. Just like that poor man who is lying in the morgue with my name on his tag." Kelly chuckled, moving from his position before her to make room for another man to step forward. He gave his large weapon to his colleague, but still had a pistol remaining in his belt.

As he bent forward to grab her, Storm reached out and grabbed the pistol and swung upward, nailing the guy in the chin. Then she quickly threw her arms over his head, using him not only as a shield but as a crutch as well.

"Shoot!" yelled Kelly, scrambling for the exit. One of the remaining men shot his partner in the chest hoping to injure her as well. Lucky for her, the bullet did not manage to move through his body. Dizzily, she aimed and fired two consecutive shots, hitting her mark as the remaining two dropped to the ground.

Seconds after she had sent the second bullet she fell to the ground and detangled herself from the first man. She looked up to see someone run pass the door. Pulling herself into a kneeling position, her broken leg lying awkwardly beneath her, she took aim at the door once again as someone came running in.

She fired before he even had a chance to pull his weapon. Only then did she realize he did not have one. The man only seemed briefly stunned at the concept of being shot. "Logan! Oh for goddess sake, I'm sorry!"