Summary: Magneto, restored from his infant form, seeks out Charles for answers.
Erik's mass is considerable, his frame lean and lank, his presence so imposing and familiar that Charles wonders briefly whether the past few months of his infancy really happened at all. His face is set in its tell-tale frown, and Charles nods at him politely, knowing - hoping - that Erik's agenda is not a violent one, merely a quest for information.
"You may sit down, Erik," he asserts calmly, but the other man remains standing, scant feet from Charles' wheelchair.
"It's Magneto." The frown deepens. "You know that."
"Magneto," Charles nods. He regards the other man with interest. "Are your memories all back, then?"
"They are," Magneto says flatly, and his eyes flash. "No thanks to you and your scientist girlfriend."
"I suppose this is the part where I point out that the technology for regenerating you into your true form is not mine," Charles sighs, pointedly ignoring the implication about Moira.
Erik - Magneto - stalks closer then, looming, and Charles forces himself to keep his hands resting lightly on the armrests of his chair. "No, of course not. I suppose you could also point out that you were all too willing to whisk me off to a government facility. You enjoyed being able to control me; to have me weak and at your mercy." His tone and stance are accusatory, his lip curled in disgust. Charles does not break their locked gazes.
"I did what I could to keep you safe; to give you the best chance of restoring your powers without you being exploited or coming in harm's way. If I could have restored you to yourself, I would have," Charles says sincerely.
Magneto's lips twist into a disdainful smirk. "And I suppose the thought of me, docile and obedient in the Xavier Academy never crossed your mind, did it, Charles?" He does not wait for the other man to answer before segueing. "For months, I was confused and alone, a child, isolated, nearly powerless. And do you know what the only thing that felt familiar to me was, Charles?" Charles holds his breath. "You," Magneto confirms, and he's leaning and gripping Charles' armrests himself now. "I had no idea who you were, and yet, I was drawn to your every essence." An errant image of the toddler Erik clutching his teddy bear comes unbidden to Charles' mind and he sighs. Magneto leans yet closer, their noses nearly touching. "What is that about, Charles? Why did you have this kind of power over me? Why?"
"I swear to you," Charles says, and his voice is nearly a whisper, "I did nothing to alter your mind, Erik. I'm sorry. I don't have an easy answer for you. We've just always been ... complicated, you and I."
Magneto's mouth quirks slightly. "We have." He shifts slightly, giving Charles his space, and Charles lets out a ragged breath. "But if I find out that you have changed me in some way, I will return; first for Moira MacTaggert, and then for you."
Charles sighs. "You do not need to harm Moira, Erik. She has only been doing as I ask."
"I know." Magneto stands anew and bares his teeth in a smile. "But you are much more likely to compromise yourself if it's for someone else's benefit." He turns and stalks towards the doorway. "Until then, Charles."
Charles stares at the closed door for several minutes after Erik takes his leave. Then he sighs and runs his hands over his face wearily. While Erik's predilection for Charles' presence is, in fact, completely incidental, the fact remains that Moira did express interest in performing a few tests with Erik's DNA, and he knows the data from those tests is still stored in the facility on Muir Island, alongside information that even Charles' most senior X-Men do not know about. As he slowly turns away from the space previously occupied by his old friend, he can only hope that said information remains under wraps. It's the only way to ensure that Magneto, and the rest of them, stay safe.