"I can't even see the stars…"

"That's lightning's getting closer…"

"Wasn't supposed to be this bad…"

"The water looks like it's fit to buck us something good,"

The forecasts seemed as if they were less and less good by the seconds. Charles sat in his wheelchair, eyes closed and mind open, listening. What he heard worried him immensely, especially since only Alex, closer than the others, had arrived by now. The young man stood by Charles's side, fidgeting impatiently. The lights flickered again. The ship tipped ominously to the side. His wheelchair started to roll. Charles grabbed the wheels, locking himself in place.

He frowned, listening.

"What's that bugging the power source?"

"I don't understand…"

"General, our radios are down. We can't reach the mainland…"

"The waves are starting to swell…"

"You okay Charles?" he blinked out his listening to look up at Alex, gazing at him with something akin to worry in his brows. Charles blinked his mind back to the present moment to look up. "Just checking proceedings," he told him. Alex cocked an eyebrow in an obvious sign of "so, how is it?" And Charles shook his head. Lightning crashed against the swelling ocean outside. The lights flickered a few more times, as if trying to decide whether to stay alive, before beaming a lesser hue.

Charles did not have it in him to lie. "Not good, I'm afraid," he answered Alex's unasked question. The young man sighed and rubbed the back of his head in a sign of stress.

"Where are the others?" he asked the question that had plagued Charles's mind for the past ten minutes. "Maybe I should go look for them," Charles opened his mouth to object, but upon seeing how impatiently Alex tapped his foot, looking for an outlet for his nervous energy, decided that it would be good for him to be productive. He could keep a close eye on proceedings from here.

Besides, he thought, glancing at his legs with bitterness. It is not as if I am going anywhere in my condition. It was difficult enough just keeping his wheelchair in one place while the ship rocked in such a fashion. "Good idea," he said with a wave of his hand. "Find them and bring them back here," Alex's face morphed into relief that he could be of use.

"Got it, Charles," with that he vanished out of the sterile white room which had become Charles's tiny prison to find the others. Charles exhaled along breath as soon as he was sure Alex was gone, the persistent ache in his back returning full force as he relaxed in his chair.

He had been straining to hide it from the others, but he was afraid he could not hide the agony from himself. Added to that, his heart sill throbbed with despair and worry-for both of his wayward friends who had fallen to the lure of battle. He wondered where they were in the sea right now, if the storm were affecting them. Then again, if his suspicions were correct, then that storm fellow was the one causing this. But why? Had…Erik ordered it done? A final testament to his hatred of humans? Surely he would realize that if the ship went down; so would they?

Charles frowned as a horrifying idea niggled at the base of his brain, the idea that indeed Erik had realized and had ordered that the ship be sunk anyway. That perhaps his hatred had overcome his care for his friends and that goodness that Charles had seen inside of him.

No, he scolded himself before the idea could fully turn into a possibility. Erik may be misguided, but he was no monster. I have to trust that goodness inside of him. I have too, he had little else to trust or believe in anymore.

"Charles?!" That was Michael, scaring Charles so thoroughly out of his thoughts that he actually jumped. The tall doctor stuck his head around the doorframe. His eyes were wide, hair disheveled. He looked a bit too pale for his normal pallor. Charles scowled.

"You don't look so good," he said, worried for the man who had saved his life. Michael shook his head and walked into the room.

"All this thrashing about," he explained a bit shakily. "Those waves are getting too big. I came to make sure you were alright," he said. Charles smiled, touched that Michael had thought about him.

"That was very considerate of you, Michael," he said, with a smile. "Thank you. I'm fine, merely waiting for the rest of my posse," he explained. Michael nodded. He sank to the ground in front of him, gently taking the heel of Charles's foot in his hand and tapping at his knee.

Charles, well-accustomed to these daily checks, could only stare fondly. He knew Michael was trying to keep his hopes up-trying to prove through action that it was possible for Charles to walk again. But the telepath knew, in some deep down knowing place, that it was not to be. He would never walk again. That was that.

Still, Michael's attempts to keep his spirits up were one of the reasons Charles had been able to survive these past few days sane. Michael reminded him so much of Joseph, his keen eyes and kind demeanor that Charles had found the name on the tip of his tongue several times by now.

The memory of his old friend and foster parent filled him with sadness, but also a feeling of… Self-awareness. As if he was meeting his true self for the first time, and knew neither what to make of himself or what to do with this new reflection, or even if it was his actual reflection at all.

Generally, Charles found Michael a comfort in a confusing world. "That's for the best," Michael muttered beneath his breath. "Some of the men are getting nervous, looking for answers," Michael glance dup, and his eyes flashed a warning. "They might start pointing fingers," he stated with perfect seriousness. Charles nodded, getting the drift.

"I know," he could sense it, after all. Michael stood, his deep eyes gazing down at Charles with something akin to nervousness.

"Charles…Do you know what's causing this?" he asked. Charles sighed, really wishing that Michael of all people had not asked him that question. It would be much easier to lie to anyone but Michael, and right now Charles very much did not want to tell the truth. Still, this man was his friend. He deserved to know. Charles opened his mouth to tell Michael about his suspicions when he felt a spike of primal terror not his own.

Not two seconds later, the ship tilted again. Charles gasped as he felt himself suddenly falling backwards, rolling without his consent. His stomach dropped, his shout of alarm drowned out by the sound of metal creaking and lighting outside.

"Charles!" Michael reached out, grabbing Charles's outstretched hand. Unfortunately, the wheelchair was heavier than Michael, who weighed less than a cereal box probably. They both went tumbling backwards into the hall outside of the room. Charles bit down on his tongue-hard enough to make the blasted thing bleed- as the back of his wheelchair slammed into the wall.

This collision was swiftly followed by Michael landing haphazardly against his legs on the ground, twisted like a pretzel at his feet. "Well," the doctor mumbled, as the ship righted itself with aching slowness. Charles resisted the urge to vomit, his stomach doing flops and his back tormenting him. "At least the lights are still on," the lights went out without so much as a hesitant flicker. Charles sighed.

"You just had to say that, hmm?" he asked, as pitch blackness surrounded them.

"Sorry," Michael grumbled. A groping hand found Charles's knee, then his shoulder as Michael stood to his feet. Charles resisted the urge to cry out when the hands found his sore shoulder. To distract himself, he called out with his telepathy: Is everyone alright?

The answer was immediate. Prof, I found Hank and Sean. We're on our way. Where's Moira…?

Here, that sounded like Moira alright, winded and slightly scared. The General is ordering everyone to… The thought was quickly interrupted on Moira's end by a shrill noise of doom. Charles heard it through the ears of the crewmen on the deck and below.

The sickening sound of metal being torn open and water rushing in like a dam suddenly split open. A wave so massive that it swept the deck clean, emptying it of men and plunging the few there into the ocean. Charles felt his heart pang as lives were inexorably and mercilessly ended.

For the love of…! Moira shouted in their minds. There's a hole in the ship. We're sinking! Instinctively Charles felt a surge of protective panic. He had to get his charges off this ship. Now.

New plan. Alex, Sean, Hank, Moira, get to a lifeboat! He ordered, hoping he did not sound half as scared as he felt. I'll meet you on deck. Hurry! He did not receive a reply so much as he felt them all scramble to obey his bidding. They were all aware of how easily the lifeboats would be taken up by humans, and how unwilling the humans would be to share space with mutants. If they did not get there fast, they would surely drown.

"Michael…" he began, but it appeared as though his new friend was one step ahead of him. Taking matters into his own hands, Michael got behind Charles and fairly shoved his wheelchair down the hall towards safety.

"Let's go."

"Magneto?" He turned inquisitively to see Raven squinting at her screen in front of her, brow furrowed. "I don't know what I'm looking at, but it seems…Weird. Take a look," without waiting for his reply she backed away, allowing him free-access. Erik scowled and walked over, all too cognizant of how heavy the helmet felt on his head and how…. Quiet… His mind felt without Charles in it.

It was like those moments with Shaw, all over again. Erik was not overly eager to relive those moments. So in order to get rid of the image in his mind, he leaned over Raven's shoulder and peered at the image on the radar screen that she was staring at. Immediately, he saw the abnormality. On the screen was a giant swirling anomaly a few miles away. He scowled.

"It's probably nothing," Riptide tossed nonchalantly over his shoulder. "Maybe a school of fish congregating or something," Erik's eyes narrowed.

"Does that even happen in this part of the ocean?" Raven asked dubiously, placing her hands on her hip. Angel shrugged at her own station, staring at it with obvious boredom.

"Who cares? Is it in our way?" She questioned. Erik squinted at the swirling epiphany. Suddenly, his gut clenched and the hairs on the back of his neck prickled as they always did when something was not right. His mind churned. According to this, that swirling thing was a few miles from here, beginning some feet below the water and getting bigger. He glanced over at Riptide. The other mutant was gazing back at him emotionlessly, slowly stirring his fingers on the dashboard as if…

Erik did not hesitate. Riptide made a strangled gargling noise as he suddenly found his throat clamped in Erik's left fist. The metal-bender slammed the other against the wall, growling irately.

"Erik!" Mystique cried out in shock, as the others took a step forward to intervene. Erik ignored them, his eyes burrowing into Riptides.

"You," he sneered beneath his breath. "Are you doing this?" He demanded. He felt a hand on his arm, pulling.

"Erik, stop it!"

Riptide glared at him, squirming in his firm grip. "I… don't know what…You're talking about," he gasped out. Erik squeezed his neck tighter to prevent him from moving.

"Raven," he snapped over his shoulder, momentarily forgetting to call her by her chosen name. "Get on the radio…Look for the American fleet's frequency," he commanded. Raven stared at him, befuddled.

"What? Why…?"

"Do it now!" Startled by his harsh tone Raven turned and hurriedly did as she was told. The others stood there, either in confusion or outrage. Erik ignored them all, his heart hammering in his ears. How could he have been so stupid? If Riptide was doing this, how long had he been at it? How big of a storm would it create? How much damage might it do to the…?

A staticky voice boomed over the speakers as Raven found the frequency. "This is the U.S.S Carolina... All nearby ships… Caught in… Massive storm…Ship severely damaged… Evacuating all aboard, not enough lifeboats… Please… Anyone hear me…? Need help…Please," Raven's eyes had grown to double the size they usually were. She stared at him, mouth agape.

"That's… That's…" her hands clapped over her mouth, as if to keep the words at bay would be enough to choke the reality of their situation back. Angel and Azazel both looked up, now staring at Riptide with a mixture of surprise, confusion and with Azazel… Approval. Erik wanted to tear the heads off of them all.

He slammed Riptide into the wall behind him. "Stop it," he ordered. Riptide gave a casual half-shrug, his fingers stilling their movements.

"Won't matter," he wheezed. "It's already grown. Too late," he told Erik, with all the calmness of a murderer.

Erik clenched his teeth to so hard that he felt one crack. He gathered the pain, let it guide him towards the ultimate goal: anger. He shook his captive roughly.

"You fool," he hissed. "There are mutant brothers on that boat!" their faces flashed before his eyes, each one a poignant reminder of why he was doing this. Hank, Sean, Alex, Charles… Erik felt as if he were the one being strangled.

"You mean there are mutant traitors on that boat!" Azazel cried out defiantly. Erik swiveled on his heel. Red flashed before his eyes, blurred by tears. He did not get a chance to let go of Riptide and choke Azazel before Raven took out her own anger. With perfect form that made a swell of pride grow in his chest for teaching it to her; she landed a swift punch to Azazel's right cheek. He stumbled backwards, eventually tripping to the ground. Satisfied, Erik glared down at him.

"My brother is on that ship!" Raven cried; her voice a mixture of horror and heartbreak. Azazel looked up at her, rubbing his cheek angrily.

"Your brother chose the humans over you!" he snapped back. Raven's eyes grew wide, appalled. Azazel continued. "They chose their side, and we chose ours! If they aren't here with us, then they're against us and deserve to die just as much as the humans do!" Erik's teeth hurt from being clenched so hard. Shaw's words echoed in his mind. "It is better this way. He would have been a liability. People like him are no better than the humans. Weak. Stupid. Inferior," he had trained his minions well.

Somehow, Riptide had managed to loosen Erik's hands with his nails. "This is the way it has to be, Magneto!" he cried hoarsely, eyes burning with hatred and determination. "This is what you signed up for. Who are you, a freedom fighter or the friend of weaklings?!" Erik growled. Raven took a step forward as if to slap him too.

"They are not weaklings!" she cried passionately.

Angel placed a gentle had on her shoulder. "Hey," she cooed. "I know this is hard, but Azazel and Riptide are right. This is war. Charles and the others…They would have been a threat to us later on. You have to decide, Raven, do you want to be free or exterminated? Are you Charles's baby sister," Angel shook her head, as if she already knew the answer. "Or Mystique?" Raven stared back at her, cat-like yellow eyes burning with indecision.

Erik felt his own heart at war with itself. His mind flashed back to a moment, years earlier, when Shaw had given him a choice between his mother… and his power. That same feeling of dread and desperation took him over now, only tempered by years of harsh experience. He was a boy no longer, and just like before; this was war. In war, sacrifices had to made. People were hurt, relationships tattered. That was how it was.

Did he want that, again? Did he want to be alone?

You'll have Raven, the girl who had mattered to Charles more than his own welfare. If he protected her, surely that was doing right by Charles, wasn't it? And the man had said that if it came down to a fight between them, he would rather it be his role to die. Erik felt wetness in his eyes. He blinked it away.

"Erik?" He turned partially, and saw his own dire desperation in Raven's eyes. A tear dribbled down her cheek and he knew that she would do as he asked; even if it should break her heart. His mind sped. I trained those boys. I handed Hank tools when he worked on our jet, I saw Sean fly for the first time, I taught Alex self-defense…I trained those boys. Those are my boys, and Charles…

His own voice rung in his mind. "We are brothers. You and I. We can change this world together," and if he wanted; he could have his brothers drowned. For mutant-kind, he could have them all killed.

Was that a good enough reason?

It was the entire reason he had left in the first place. He couldn't go back now. Slowly, feeling as if his soul had fled his body and was now floating idly above, he released Riptide and took a step back. The other crumbled to one knee, gasping. Erik turned around.

Tears were leaking down Raven's face. She bowed her head as Angel wrapped an arm around her shoulders comfortingly. She gave Erik a resigned nod. Azazel grinned, admiration flashing in his eyes. "Good choice," Riptide wheezed from below, with a hoarse chuckle. Somehow, Erik did not feel as if the approval of his brotherhood meant much; not as much if it had been Charles's support.

As if the thought of him was enough, he heard… Something. A premonition that he would have thought was Charles if he were not wearing his helmet.

"You're my friend, Erik. If it was a contest between my legs or your life, I'd make the same decision every time with no regrets,"

"Charles…I… You… Why?"

"Because Erik, your life is important to me. You're my friend," Friend. His very first and very best friend was in trouble. Erik had never been able to say that before. Suddenly, everything in his being wanted to be able to say it again. He wanted it more than power, more than freedom, more even than to live.

He needed Charles, he had realized that when the man was shot, and again he came to the same conclusion. If that man died, he would take a large part of Erik with him. If that man died because of Erik's decision, he would take Erik's soul with him, and all the goodness Charles had claimed was there.

"I don't agree with what you're doing, Erik, but I trust the goodness within you. I trust it will lead you to where you belong," He belonged with his friends now; that was where he wanted to be. Mutant-kind could wait.

"No," he stated softly. The others stared.

"What?" Angel inquired.

Erik shook his head. "No," he repeated, more vehemently this time. "We aren't leaving them," and before anyone could protest, he continued. "There is a man on that ship who taught me about serenity when I only knew anger. He understood me when I thought I was alone," his eyes blazed and his heart glowed with new determination. "And he jumped in front of a bullet for my life when I thought it ended long ago," I won't abandon you Charles. Not like this. He turned to Raven. She was smiling from ear to ear, eyes twinkling with gratitude

"Raven, turn us the HELL around!" She jumped at the steering as if she were the drowning one. Azazel and Riptide groaned. Angel studied him, thoughtfully, but made no comment. Erik ignored them again, walking beside Raven.

Hang on, boys, he thought. We're coming.