Chapter Eight

"I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, I understand."

"I love you."

"I know."

Alex glares down at the plate of blackened… something before him. "What's this supposed to be?"

Erik folds his arms over his chest defensively. "It's toast."

"It looks like you were trying to murder it. Did toast kill your parents?" Erik's expression is deadly and Alex winces retroactively. "Sorry. Poor word choice."

"You seem to have a real talent for that."

It's early, but Erik's been up for hours. He takes a sip of his cold, congealing coffee and makes a face. Warm light streams in through the curtains of the kitchen, the sun coming through fabric making checkered patterns of red and white on the floor. If the hostility in the room wasn't palpable, one could almost believe that it was simply an ordinary morning in an ordinary house. Alex butters the burned toast like he's shanking it.

"Yeah, that's me. Master of the art of foot-in-mouth." He pulls a karate pose, arms in a pseudo-Asian fighting stance. "Hi-yah."

"Are you just going to be sarcastic or do you actually have anything to say in your defense?" Erik raises the mug half way to his lips before thinking better of it and emptying the grayish brown dregs into the sink. He isn't a patient man, and he doesn't want to have to wait for another pot of coffee to percolate, so he settles for just standing there.

Alex takes a bite of the toast and has a reaction disturbingly similar to Erik's confrontation with the coffee. "How did you survive living on your own if you can't even make toast?"

"Luckily, it doesn't take much talent to cook human flesh." He pauses for a second, taking in Alex's look of horror. "That was a joke."

"Thanks for clarifying." The teen reaches up to scratch his heavily bandaged nose. "For a second there…"

"Yes, well."

There's an awkward silence. Erik clears his throat and raises an eyebrow. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Alex throws his hands in the air. "Jesus, what are you, the Spanish Inquisition? I just said something I shouldn't have, okay? I'm sorry, God!"

Erik hadn't expected the apology so quickly. "You understand why Raven was angry, obviously?"

"Just because I'm a juvie doesn't mean I'm stupid."

Erik shakes his head. "No, I know you aren't stupid. Just rude."

"Oh, well, thanks, that makes everything so much better." Alex stabs the toast with a fork and it falls apart.

Erik sits down across from him and pulls the plate away, grabbing part of the crust and taking a crunchy bite. "You must have done something more than just call Charles a derogatory term to get her hackles up like that. I mean," He gestures to the black and blue that covers Alex, "From the look of things, she was trying to turn your face into a fine paste."

"We had been arguing. It's not important." Alex frowns, leaning back in his chair so that it stands on only two of its legs.

"What about? Not Monopoly."

If Alex could shoot lasers from his eyes, he would be burning a hole in the tablecloth (Wouldn't that be an interesting mutant power, Erik mused). "Nothing."

Dust motes float in the air above Erik's head. "Really."

"Yeah." Alex juts his chin out defiantly. "Why does it matter? It's over now."

"I suppose."

Alex's expression stays stoic. "Am I going to be punished?"

"That's up to the Professor."

"Is Raven going to be punished?"

"Same as you, but probably yes. You can't just hurt people and expect that there won't be consequences." Erik takes another bite of toast. Alex mutters something and the older man's eyes narrow. "What was that?"

Alex scowls. "I said, you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?"

Erik ducks his head, and it's the most obviously upset Alex has ever seen him (Except for the time on the beach, of course). "That's a low blow, Alex."

"But it's true, isn't it?"

Erik sighs and reaches into his pocket, pulling something out and rolling it between his hands contemplatively before levitating it until it floats up in between his thumb and index finger. "Do you see this?"

Alex squints. "What is it?"

Light reflects off the object, glinting in Erik's grasp. It's small and silvery gray and rough, dented and squished inelegantly. "It's a bullet."

"So?"

Erik moves it closer to Alex's face. "Let me rephrase that. It's THE bullet."

Revulsion crosses the teenager's expression. "You mean that's…?"

"I pulled it out of his body, Alex. I put it in and I pulled it out, and then I kept it. Do you know why?"

Alex shakes his head, for once at a loss for words. Erik closes his fist around the bullet.

"So that every time I wonder why he can't look at me, or I want to feel his voice inside my head, I can look at this and remember why I'm alone." He holds Alex's stare for a long moment, matching his gaze. "Our actions leave impacts, Alex. You have to be careful what path you take. Remember that."

Alex nods, knowing that he doesn't have to say anything. Erik stands suddenly, pocketing the bullet hastily and turning to the counter.

"You're probably still hungry. Even I was having a hard time eating that toast." He brandishes a crumpled cardboard box. "Cornflakes?"

"Sure. Sounds good."

When the others file in, groggy, and see Erik and Alex sitting peacefully at the table with their matching bowls of cereal, there's a moment of the confusion that comes with a change from the normal morning routine. Hank rubs his eyes. Raven slips in past him and focuses her attention on the fridge.

Charles wheels in. "Good morning. Raven, please pass the orange juice." She hands her brother the carton and he pours himself a glass. He pulls in to his spot at the table, taking a sip that seems to go down the wrong way when he coughs and splutters suddenly.

"Jesus Christ! Alex, what happened to your face?"

Raven opens her mouth, a guilty look plastered on her face, but Alex beats her to it. "I said something stupid and Raven punched me. It was my fault. Really."

Shooting a deep frown over his shoulder at his sister, he seems about as imposing as one can while one is wearing pinstriped pajamas as eight AM. "Is that true?"

She nods miserably. "Yes."

"Was that what I heard last night?" Charles looks horrified. "I thought there were some stray cats fighting in the yard!"

"How could you think they were cats?" Hank frowns. "I mean, I could understand if it was me fighting, but…"

The telepath shrugs. "I just picked up anger. It went away so fast I just thought-"

"Erik broke it up." Alex pointed to him. "If he hadn't pulled her off, I would not stand before you the incredibly handsome Greek god that I am."

A smile flickers over Charles face as his eyes meet with Erik's. A hesitant mirror image graces Erik's lips momentarily, and Charles nods gratefully.

"Thank you."

"Well, I couldn't have them killing each other." Erik shrugs.

Raven sniffs suddenly, grimacing. "What smells like burning?"

Alex gestures with his spoon, dripping milk on the tablecloth. "Erik tried to make toast."

"With a flamethrower?" She quips. Alex laughs, and they smile at each other, and for a moment they are all happy and it almost feels like everything is back to normal.