"Alex," the voice scared the living daylights out of him, but he tried not to let it show. Considering his spectator however, he was not sure he succeeded in that. Alex Summers swiveled around; abandoning the sight before him as if it were one he would see the same every day. Admittedly, some would say so of the sunset. After all, it came everyday. However, this one seemed different.

Maybe it was because Erik, Raven and the others were leaving after Erik and Charles brought the kids back. Maybe it was because he knew that somewhere out there, Moira and Michael were discussing mutant rights before an unforgiving audience. Maybe it was, as he had often thought, because every sunset looked different without Scott there. However, Alex very much suspected it was because Angel-Cassidy-had decided to stay. There. In the mansion.

With him.

He wished this didn't matter so much in his mind, and really it had to matter a significant amount for the sun to feel different because of it. After all, Alex couldn't stand disloyalty; and Angel had shown it in full degrees. She had left with Shaw even after he had murdered Darwin. She had tried to kill them.

The phrase that came to mind was ironically, "all's fair in love and war," which was a lie. His feelings right now? Not fair. He felt like a traitor just being around her. And yet if he was one, he felt treacherously good about the whole affair. What the heck was wrong with him?

These were the musings crossing his mind when Charles snuck up on him, managing to be stealthy in a wheelchair like every other weird teacher in the world. Sitting out on the back porch had never been a pastime of Alex's before he met Professor Xavier but he had found it oddly soothing now, as he leaned against the clean white balcony and gazed at the setting sun over the trees and hills of New York. This was an oddly romantic scene, and he didn't do romance. So what was he doing out here?

Charles did not ask. Instead, the other man rolled himself beside Alex, his expression thoughtful. "Oh, hey professor," Alex said, trying to sound flippant when his heart had skipped a beat out of fright. "What's up?" he asked. Charles stopped at his side, his brow furrowed.

He did not look at Alex, instead the sunset. "Alex," said boy straightened, worry niggling beneath him. There was none of the familiar casual fondness in Charles's tone now. This was not a social call. He was there talking about something serious. "How old was Scott, when you last saw him?" that question took Alex's breath away a second time, this time with shock.

"Scott?" he repeated. "Er…" he scratched his head, a bit sheepish that he had to strive to remember. "Seven and a half, I think. Why?" Charles glanced at him.

"And did he show any signs of…Being like us? Of mutation?" Charles was asking all sorts of odd questions today, wasn't he?

Alex shook his head, bewildered at the sudden questions about his brother. It wasn't as if he and Charles had not spoken of him before, but this was rather sudden. "No," he answered with surety. "He's human," –one of the many reasons he condemned Erik's war against them- "that's why I left remember? I didn't want to hurt him with my powers, or have my aunt discover me and kick us both out," he reminded Charles.

The older man nodded. "I know," he agreed softly, his eyes still set on the sunset. There was concern in his stormy blue eyes. Alex felt sweat bead his brow. Did Charles know something?

"Why are you asking me all of this, Charles?" he asked, forgoing the affectionate nickname professor. Charles was silent for a long span of time, apparently weighing something in him mind. This isn't good, Charles did not often have to think about what he said before he said it. His education coupled with a supreme awareness of other's feelings gave him a supreme advantage in the communications area. If he was thinking about it, it was because he knew how Alex felt and couldn't put his own thoughts into words… Alex wanted to yell at him to spit it out.

Before it came to that however, Charles spoke. "I felt him, Alex," he said, not mincing words. "With Cerebro, I found Scott. He's a mutant," The words felt like a low to the gut. Alex felt his knees buckle. He gripped the white balcony to keep himself steady.

"Are…" he gulped. "Are you kidding me?" he gasped.

Charles shook his head. "I wish I were," he admitted, finally looking up. There was something like sympathy in his eyes. "His powers have manifested already, at an early age I believe. Which means he has great power," Scott? Great power? The kid wasn't even ten yet.

"From what I could tell, his powers were similar to yours, only the lasers come from his eyes. I believe that they have already caused him some trouble because…" here Charles halted, his eyes examining Alex as if to judge whether he were capable of handling the news or not. Alex felt as if his heart would burst.

"What?" he nearly screamed.

"He's put your aunt in the hospital, Alex. I read it in Scott's mind. She's in a coma right now, and he ran away. He's roaming the streets," and now Alex collapsed to his knees in front of Charles. He leaned against the balcony, his heart hammering in his ears at this new. He felt as if his entire world had crumbled.

His little brother… Scott… On the cold and desolate streets, surrounded by lunatics and murderers and gang bangers… Oh, no, oh, no… He closed his eyes, trying to breathe deeply enough to stop himself from passing out. Charles had laid a hand on his shoulder. He squeezed it. When Alex looked up, he saw Charles through a haze of hot tears.

"Charles, is…" his voice wavered out of control. Alex had to try again. "Is he okay? Could you tell?" he asked.

Charles nodded. "He's alright, Alex. I've already checked. He feels horrible for what he's done to your aunt-accidentally, albeit-and lonely, but he's well. He's been getting assistance from an elderly homeless woman, I believe," Alex loved old ladies. Now and forevermore, he adored them.

And the one he adored the most? Whatever kind and tender soul had been helping his baby brother. He would give her a fortune; do anything to show his gratitude to her for doing a job that rightfully should have been his…

"No," he moaned, as his heart ripped itself to shreds. "No. This is exactly why I left. What I didn't want," he said, as a few tears leaked from his eyes.

"Alex," Charles voice was soft, understanding, yet firm. "I know," and he did. Alex knew he did because he had seen the way Charles catered to Raven's every whim as if she were the reason for his living and breathing. He had seen what Charles would do for the ones he loved, and in that Alex had seen a reflection of himself.

"However, that can wait until later. I need you to be strong at this moment. Now, Scott is already one of the six I've decided to bring to the school. Don't thank me," he hastily ordered when Alex went to throw his arms around him in pure appreciation. "But you must understand- the experiences he's gone through have changed him. He might be angry, hurt, betrayed. It will take time and patience to regain his trust and love. Are you willing to do that?" Alex wondered why the heck Charles would even ask him that. Scott was his brother! Of course he was…

Scott was his brother, and Alex had abandoned him.

True, it had been for his own reasons-ones that he had felt were right at the time-but now he saw that in Scott's eyes, that maybe had not been the case. What if Scott hated him, or worse? What if he didn't want anything to do with him?

Can I handle that? He wondered, suddenly terrified that he couldn't. Would he be able to live with that guilt and pain that might assault him every time he saw his brother and know that nothing he said would ever fix it between them?

Alex glanced at Charles, suddenly understanding the pain that the other mutant went through every time he laid his eyes on Raven. The telepath was staring at him with deep, mournful eyes which had seen a lot of bad things. Alex squeezed Charles's knee. "Charles," he said feeling as if he had just age twelve years. "I know. I'm willing. I'm ready," he was past ready to see his little brother again.

Charles nodded. "Good," he asserted. "I thought you might say that. I took the liberty of asking Hank to create a pair of glasses for Scott, made from the same material he used to make your suit. It should help him control his powers for now," Alex exhaled a breath of relief, once again realizing that he had one more thing to thank Charles and Hank for. That made ten billion total now, he was pretty sure.

"Guess I have to stop calling him bozo now, huh?" he asked.

Charles chuckled, eyes lighting up like fireworks against a darkened sky. "No worries," he assured him. "I'm pretty sure that secretly, Hank enjoys it."

Emma was one of the last people Erik wanted to see in his room. Granted, he would have been more upset had it been Raven trying her little sexy fiasco like she had the last time. Not that Erik didn't think that Raven was very nice-looking, but he did have a problem with such blatant flirting or … Gallivanting around with her when Charles was right there in the house. Besides, she was quite a bit younger than him.

Emma, on the other hand, had little to do with his morals as much as his patience. And after today? It was very, very thin. He was heading out with Charles in the morning to retrieve their mutant students, and they were leaving at dawn. It was currently ten o clock at night. He did not have time to dilly-dally.

Apparently Emma didn't care about his sleeping habits. She was sitting on his bed, as unruffled as smooth pond water, filing her nails when he arrived. She looked up, and smiled dazzlingly. His stomach flipped. He scowled, grunted, then opened the door wider.

"Get out," he commanded shortly. She didn't move, merely studied him with those large, calculating blue eyes of hers. It annoyed him to no end that Emma did not even appear threatened by his presence.

"You're so cute," she finally said, with a small giggle.

"Oh?" He asked dryly. "Do I have a pretty head, too?" He inquired.

Emma set her nail filer down with a final polish, examining her manicured fingers with thoughtfulness. "Well, yes," she admitted. "Though yours is more spicy than pretty," she purred. "Which is why I'm actually baffled about your sudden change of heart, sweetie-pie," she told him, standing to her full height slowly, like a panther stretching. Erik watched her warily; aware that this was a very dangerous and powerful telepath he was dealing with here.

"I've already explained this to you, Emma," he sighed.

"You explained what you wanted me to believe," she interrupted sharply, anger flashing in her eyes. "But I am not such a trusting fool as the others, Erik," he bristled beneath the mocking way she said his name.

"Oh, really?" he asked. "Then why were you hanging around with Shaw?"

Her eyes flashed. She raised her chin proudly. "Because he was a man of action. Of purpose."

"He fed you pretty lies for a pretty head,"

Emma took a few steps forward until they were mere inches away from each other. He was almost two inches taller than her. Erik forced the door closed with a clench of his fist. Thank goodness for metal locks. "He was more a man than you or that stupid fool Xavier claim to be. He was actually doing something for the mutant cause. He was a hero," she growled. Erik's fists clenched.

"Shaw was a monster," he hissed.

"And you're a lapdog!" she replied. Erik recoiled as if he had been slapped.

"What?"

Emma circled him slowly, her own eye filled with hatred and her body tensed with rage. She looked like a buzzard spinning over her prey. "Following after Xavier like his own pet puppy," she whispered in a disgusted tone. "Such good friends you two are… It clouds your judgment, makes you weak. He is a naïve and cowardly fool!" Erik spun around, very tempted to slap her. Before he could bite back a retort however, Emma sneered: "how much did he pay you?" which only succeeded in making Erik even more furious.

"Pay me?" he barked irately. Emma stopped moving, crossing her arms over an ample chest as she probably ransacked his mind looking for answers.

"Charles Frances Xavier. One of the richest men on this side of the country. I do my research, I know what kind of man he is. So, what did he pay you to go along with this soft-skinned scheme?" She demanded. The very insinuation that he would accept that kind of bribe-and that Charles would give it-made Erik positively livid.

"Let's get this straight, Ms Frost," he hissed. "I'm the one who wanted to save you from that prison…"

"Do you expect me to thank you?"

"And I can throw you right back into it! Whatever opinions you have about the plan, fine. But don't you dare insinuate that I am such a dishonorable traitor as to take bribes or that Charles is such a cowardly fool as to offer them. You have no idea who we are," he pointed a stiff and trembling finger in her face.

"Besides, you're one to talk about cowardly dishonor. You were strutting about with the evil swine that killed my family!" He was ashamed of the way his voice cracked on the last word, but he figured that Emma would be able to feel the pain that came off him in waves anyway. The confession rolled off his tongue like a curse, shaking with held-in rage and pain. Emma's eyes narrowed.

"Shaw would never," oh, so he had not told his illustrious crew about his past endeavors, had he? About how he had experimented on and tortured Erik for years?

"Oh, and I suppose he told you he loved you, too?" the truth of his statement was in her eyes and the way that she narrowed them. Erik laughed contemptuously. "All he knew how to tell was lies," Erik spat.

"And I suppose I'm to believe you have the truth?" Emma asked skeptically. There was a thread of doubt in her eyes now. His heart burned like hot coals. His breath surged out like a tidal wave of hatred, his entire being consumed in a moment of supreme sickening vengeance where he decided would destroy every last remnant of Shaw. He would steal everything; even the woman who had loved him. Only then would his revenge be complete.

Erik strode forward and, taking one dainty hand in his own, he pressed her fingers into his forehead daringly, never breaking eye contact. Because of that, he saw the way that her eyes widened like saucers, staring at him with shock. After a moment, in which she deduced he was serious, she only whispered: "what are you playing at?"

"You want the truth?" Erik challenged. "Fine. Take it."

She was staring at him as if she supposed he had gone mad. "Honey, you can't even imagine the types of things I could do to you in there," he very well could, and he knew that some part of Emma wanted too. He only smiled and said the very last thing he knew she was expecting.

"I trust you," and now she looked like a fish, gasping when it was thrown from its familiar territory unto a strange new shore, and had no idea how to evolve to fit this new environment. Erik kept his eyes trained into hers, steady like Charles did to convey his sincerity.

And as odd as it was, he did trust Emma. He did not know whether it was a bit of Charles rubbing off on him but he saw something…Else in her. True, he saw Shaw's terrible influence, but he also saw more. A gentleness and compassion hidden beneath the depths of wary bitterness and anger; a being very much like Charles. Charles had shown him his good side by trusting that it would come forth when they most needed it. Erik figured the same should work for Emma and really? He wanted it too. He wanted her to see what he had seen and know, at last…

What it felt like not to be alone.

Charles is definitely rubbing off on me, he was sure his friend would have slapped him upside the head for this had he been present, but after that Charles would probably break into hysteric laughter again. "You're crazy," Emma gaped.

Erik shrugged. "I thought you had noticed," he replied casually. Emma stared at him another fifteen seconds, her large blue eyes warily searching his face as if she suspected he were trying to trick her, before they softened into something like curiosity, and also gratitude.

Erik took it not many people trusted Emma, not in the way that they trusted Charles. Half of that was her own fault, but he knew from his friend that there were many who would accuse telepaths of the most nefarious deeds just because they could. So, with infinite gentleness, Emma took her fingers from his grip and tenderly placed her fingers on either side of his head.

He gasped, for her psychic touch was different from Charles's. Where Charles was like water, gently pooling and flowing between memories, hers was like a decisive knife, slicing through the memories cleanly and without doing more damage than was necessary. However, Charles was warm, all-enveloping, controlling. Emma's decisiveness was borne out of compassion, cauterizing the pain caused by the cut with gentle empathy. Erik felt himself relaxing despite the horrible memories that she was rifling through, like flipping through the pages of a book.

Also unlike Charles, who had more control over his own mind, memories leaked out of hers as she went through his.

Erik saw a large classroom, filled with children. Emma taught at an integrated school, one of the only in the country. They were human, most of them. Eager some, innocent many, childish most in their own way, and he felt the love she had for them as she stood at the front of the room like a mother hen over her chicks, and taught. He felt her happiness and content in a classroom, her smiles. Erik saw a dark brown face, plump with childish muscle and an eager mind. A name.

Anna.

She was a mutant. Her entire family was mutant. Erik saw nights that Emma spent with the family, laughing and joking. Seeing the mother as a sister, the father as a brother and Anna as her own niece. Anna was a quick study, a vicious hoarder of knowledge many would balk at learning, he saw the admiration in young brown eyes as Anna looked up to her.

"Morning, Ms. Frost!" She would cry every morning. He could feel the deep love Emma had for these people…Then, one day, tragedy. A mob lynching took the father, grief, sorrow, struggling to console the two women left. The mother fell to drinking; one day drank too much at the bar. Words which were better left unsaid slipped from her mouth, about their mutations. He saw the dark shapes of people scrambling in the dark outside of her house. She knocked them out with her telepathy. Terror. Anger. One Thought:

Find Anna.

They went on the run from the government hunting them. Drove hundreds of miles, took dozens of different names, saw suffering and corruption wherever they went. Continuous terror. Horrid fear. Suffering. Guilt, but above all, family. One thought, shared between her and the mother:

Protect Anna.

It was Anna's birthday when they were caught in Illinois, celebrating at a gas station with ice cream sandwiches. They were blindfolded, gagged, tied up, driven to a secluded factory in the woods. Erik heard screaming, felt Emma's fear, her despair. Knew that she was in a Concentration Camp of her own.

Separating the three women. Anna screaming: "Emma! Emma!" A collar fitted to her neck, cutting her off from her telepathy. Beatings. Solitary confinement for weeks or months. Finally, she escaped her cell using her diamond form. She crept through the hallways, freed the other prisoners, looked for her girls. Her family.

Found the mother. Experimented on. Beaten. Dead. Rage, grief.

Found Anna in a cell alone. The same. Rage, despair, grief. A mother's noiseless scream of agony. Killing the humans, all of them. Running away with Riptide tucked beneath her arm, two survivors of a horrible place.

Then, finding Shaw in Spain. He made promises of a new world; riches, no worries; a new family. Proclamations of beauty, love, forgiveness, revenge.

Then Erik saw nothing more as Emma stepped away from him, her hands falling limply to her sides. He staggered; his own emotions raging as the pictures of Emma's life flashed before his eyes again and again. They weren't so different then. There were tears sparkling in her eyes. She sniffled as she swiped them away, angrily. Erik blinked rapidly.

"Are you alright?" He asked, softly, not knowing what else to say. Emma nodded and looked up. In her eyes was understanding, compassion… Really everything that was in Charles's eyes on a daily basis only better.

Because she understood hatred, she had felt the need for revenge, and thus her compassion was not there just to be there but for a reason. "Erik," her voice cracked. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know…" He nodded.

"Only a few do," he admitted. She looked up, and a small smile tugged at her lips.

"Like Charles?" She inquired. Erik squirmed.

"Quite without my permission, but yes," he admitted.

Emma did not seem surprised. "You two have a bond, you know," she told him softly. "I've never seen it between two people like that unless they're both telepaths, but… I could feel it there. He's placed guards around your mind. Only when he felt that I had your permission did he let me into your head," she told him. Erik was taken aback. Charles had place guards around his mind? When? And why the hell had he done that? Emma saw his confusion.

"Guards keep a telepath out. It's the only reason I haven't read your mind or controlled anyone in this house before. He's protecting you all," of course he was. And only Charles would find it fit not to mention his evident protection to any of them, no, he would just keep it a secret like the bloody idiotic angel he was. Erik sighed. He would have a chat with the man about that at some other date.

For now… "Emma, I…" he gulped. "I'm sorry about your family. About Anna," she was not surprised he had seen that either. She nodded, sadly, and he saw tears form in her eyes.

"I loved her like my own baby," she whispered. "All I wanted, after she died, was to love someone like that again. To have that bond," she snorted. "I guess I fooled myself into thinking Shaw was giving that to me," he nodded. He knew the feeling.

"You also wanted revenge. Against the humans for what they'd done to her," he pointed out. Emma nodded, a fire kindling in her eyes again.

"I still want it," she growled, banishing her tears with a determined flick of her eyes. "And Erik-I've seen all that he's done for you. I respect him for it but his ideas about humans…They're wrong…"

Erik nodded. "I know."

"So why are we going along with this… Silly bet he made? Why not show him what has happened, what will happen again if we don't…" Erik smiled bitterly.

"He already knows," he told her, effectively making her click her mouth shut with surprise. "He knows better than most. He has had his own bad experiences with humans, Emma, but Charles is not like us. He doesn't want revenge, he wants peace," Emma's face darkened.

"Peace has to be fought for," she stated darkly. Erik was relieved that someone seemed to understand.

"And we will fight for it, but if I can help it… I want Charles on our side. I want him to see that there really is no other choice, and the way to do that is to play the game on his terms, do what he wants for awhile so he can see with his own stubborn, self-righteous, eyes that it doesn't work. All the better for having Raven with us. He'll do anything to keep her safe, even change his mind. It just takes a bit of...Coaxing," Emma nodded, eyes shining with understanding.

"You realize he probably heard you say that, right?" She asked, tapping her forehead to indicate his own. Erik laughed.

"Charles isn't as stupid as you think," he told her with amusement. "He knows perfectly well why I agreed to this. I imagine he has similar ideas about me. Besides, I don't worry about him spying on me anymore; he has some sense of decency…"

Erik, you're too kind… By the way, tell Emma that we aren't friends anymore. She gave me away. It took me decades to place those guards without your knowing about them.

His smile grew. Emma cocked an eyebrow. "Decency, huh?"

"Maybe I spoke too soon," he chuckled, actually pleased by Charles's mischief. The man had been all too serious as of late. He looked down at Emma and offered his hand to shake. "So, are you still with me?" he asked. Emma looked down at his hand, debating something for a long moment, before she took it with a squeeze.

"Yes, spicy head," she whispered, stretching to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. Erik's face burned red. "I'm with you," that said, Emma gave him a kind smile before turning curtly on her heel and sashaying out of his room. Erik was disappointed. He didn't necessarily mind her being in there anymore…

Charles was snickering in his mind. Erik, you sly dog! I knew you two were up to no good in there! Eric's face burned even redder as he groaned.

"Charles!" he shouted aloud, knowing that Charles would hear him. "Shut up!"