He was awakened by a splash of ice cold water that hit his face, his nerves instantly set aflame by the change in temperature. Erik gasped and pedaled backward, flinching away from the cold as images of dark water flashed in his mind. Was he drowning again?

A dark chuckle from above helped him reign in his panic. Erik gasped and realized that he was handcuffed with cold plastic chords, his hands pulled tight behind his back. His arms were being held by two strong hands on either side of him.

He was on his knees, another hand positioned at the back of his neck, keeping him there. The metal he had kept in his pockets were gone, and he did not have to look to know that the walls of this place were made out of stone, not metal. He growled deep in his throat and looked up.

He was met with a familiar sight of his helmet-curse the thing now!- sitting atop another familiar face. Erik could have smiled.

These idiots.

He crooked a finger, reaching deep inside himself for the balanced light of rage and serenity...And found it empty. His eyes snapped open as shock sent an icy tingle through his entire body. his horror was met by the man still standing above him, watching Erik's realization with a predatory smile.

Charles's father did look like him, only an older version and with a graying beard to match, but those sapphire eyes were ones he would have recognized anywhere. However, where Charles's was full of wisdom, compassion, courage; this man had hatred, insanity, righteous malice in his eyes. He was the dark to Charles's light, the cruel to his kindness and the first thing Erik did was spit at his shoes.

This beast deserved nothing less. Suddenly, where he was shook violently. Erik looked up as tiny pebbles rained down from the stone ceiling. They were deep underground then, also judging by the extreme freezing temperatures, made worse by the fact that Erik had cold water dripping down his front and he had been drugged. His powers were useless now.

I'm useless now.

"Soon, your compound will be overcome," he told the maniac staring down at him, trying to still his racing heart. He had not been cut off from his powers like this since he was a boy in Shaw's clutches. "It would be wise to run," he never saw the kick that landed in his gut, but he did feel it and it was enough to make him double over in pain.

"An Xavier never surrenders," Erik knew that. He lived with one. A door behind him opened, and Erik shivered as cold air breathed down his neck.

"Sir? We're ready for the other mutant now," the other mutant. Reminded of why he was here in the first place, Erik clenched his teeth and tried to yank himself free of the hands holding him. He succeeded only in getting a few feet ahead before the hands yanked him backward painfully.

"Where's Charles?" The man above him smirked. "What have you done with him?" He hissed.

"Are you here for your friend, demon?" That smile made a shiver run up Erik's spine. He narrowed his eyes. Two months Charles had been in the captivity of this mad man. The thought was terrifying.

"Don't worry, you'll see him soon," a wave of his hand. "Take him to the lab," the lab. Erik did not try to struggle. He knew the hand on the back of his neck could do some painful damage if he did. He merely allowed himself to be roughly manhandled to his feet and blindfolded.

"Start walking, freak," he felt something sharp prodded into his back and had to bite his tongue to avoid crying out. He began walking, prodded along like cattle towards wherever they were taking him. His heart thudded in his chest, remembering Emma's stories of the experimentation labs.

What condition would he find Charles in? What horrors had been done? Would he even be alive? He is. He has to be alive. Erik would feel it if he weren't. He would know.

They reached their goal sooner than he thought. Selenium glass doors opened, revealing the room to be made of the same foreign metal which made up the helmet on that monster's head. Erik growled low in his throat. That was why Emma could never contact Charles with telepathy. She had been blocked by this stupid room!

Rage built inside of him. Charles must have gone crazy in here…

Charles. Where was he?

His eyes scanned the lab, and his head skipped a beat. This place reminded him of Shaw's laboratory, only now there were two metal experimentation tables. The one on the right was empty. The one on the left, however…

Erik paled as he was shoved forward into the room. There was Charles lying vulnerable and bloody on the table, his arms spread out and his immobile legs cocked into crooked angles.

His shirt had been ripped off some time ago, and the giant light shined into his face reflected the bruises blossoming beneath his skin, like colorful flowers of purple, sickly yellow and black. He had been beaten multiple times. His face was sweaty and creased in gruesome agony. There were several wires attached to his forehead and temples, buzzing loudly as they were connected to a giant machine nearby.

Erik's heart wrenched and he could only cry out in anguish for his brother. "Charles!" He jumped forward, wanting-needing-to go to him, but he was yanked back towards the table.

His eyes remained on Charles. He already knew what could happen to his friend if he fought. So, swallowing the nausea that threatened to overcome him at the idea of once again being strapped to a metal table, Erik bit his bottom lip and stared at his agonized friend. His voice seemed to have brought Charles out of his close-eyed stupor. The man Erik had not seen in two months opened his blackened and sleepless sapphire eyes and turned his head slowly towards the voice.

Recognition flamed in his eyes at once when he saw Erik, now chained with his arms eagled out on the surface of the table. A giant light was shined near him, assessing. Erik ignored it. "Charles," he whispered, as tears blurred his vision. "What have they done to you?" Charles didn't answer. His breathing was slow, labored. Possibly a broken rib then.

The doors slid open a second time. Charles's father waltzed in, hands folded behind his back. Charles whipped his head around with a distinctive crack sound, eyes ablaze. "You…" His voice was nearly unrecognizable. It was thin, scratchy, sound hoarse from screaming. "You promised… You wouldn't… hurt them…" he accused in a labored voice. His father spared him an annoyed glance.

"I did not go back on my word," he growled contemptuously. "Your friend came to me," he growled. He stalked up to where Charles lay helpless, slowly. Erik saw his friend flinch, and rage boiled over the bounds of his control.

"Get away from him!" he roared. The monster broke out of his trance. He had been staring at Charles as if he were entranced by him, as if he suspected there was some part of him that was ethereal. And why not? He already thought he was a demon. Erik wondered what he saw when he looked in the mirror because anyone who could stomach to do this to Charles was the real monster.

He turned to Erik and sneered. "I will do as I wish," he delivered a sharp slap against Charles's face. The telepath made no sound but that of his head banging against the table. He turned his face away, another bruise swelling on fragile skin. Erik gulped down vomit. He would kill this man and every single person in this compound for what they had done to his friend…

"But before we begin testing on you, too," the madman begun.

"No," Charles moaned.

"There's someone who wants to see you first. I think I'll go get her before I have to deal with the traitorous forces that have come down upon our righteous cause," he growled glaring at Erik accusingly before he turned on his heel and promptly walked out, leaving Erik alone with his friend.

The lump in his throat would not allow him to speak. Erik just lay there, breathing hard in rage and guilt. His eyes never left Charles, communicating every unspoken word between them. Then: "you came for me," it was a statement made in amazement, awe, gratitude. Erik felt a tear dribble down his cheek.

I should have come sooner. Trying for humor, he quipped back a response. "Of course I did, idiot," he replied fondly. "What are friends for?" Charles's bloody lips quirked into a small half-smile. His eyes lit up.

"So glad t' see you, Erik," he slurred softly. "I've missed you," Erik opened his mouth, wanting to tell Charles that he had barely gotten any sleep for missing him. But he would save that for when they were at home, safe.

"I'm going to get you out of here Charles," he promised fiercely. "I'm taking you home. The others are already on their way," he saw hope leap to life in Charles's eyes and relaxed marginally.

"The… Children?" Charles asked worriedly. Erik smiled.

"They're all fine. The antidote worked," Charles long, wet exhale was one of relief that left him gasping for breath. Erik continued for him, already knowing what he was going to ask next.

"Cecilia has been very brave. She's worthy of you," at the sound of her name Charles closed his eyes momentarily as if it brought him relief from the pain on the inside. "Charles… What have they done to you?" Charles opened his eyes.

They were filled with agonizing emptiness. "You don't… Want to know…They didn't… Get what…They wanted… Though," even that minuscule sentence made Charles limp with exhaustion, but Erik needed to hear the sound of his voice. He blinked in surprise.

"What did they want?"

"Info…"

"On who?"

Charles's eyes were sad, and ashamed. "Everyone," he whispered. Erik understood immediately. Being a telepath, Charles was product of stray thoughts, ideas, dreams. Erik imagined he probably knew more military secrets just from being in the room with someone than anyone else in the world. His head was a database of human secrets and agonies, entrusted to him by fate.

He had not betrayed that trust.

And his body had been broken in consequence. Erik's heart melted in sympathy and pride. Charles was stronger than people gave him credit for. Stronger than Erik was. "You're the bravest man I've ever met, Charles," he blurted, unable to resist saying that at least. Charles shook his head weakly.

"Wouldn't say that… If you knew…" Erik didn't need to know. Even if the horror in Charles's eyes told him that it had not been pretty.

"I've already seen what you've done," he said softly, desperate to wrench the guilt he saw in Charles's eyes out of his soul by the roots. "Outside this forsaken prison. Charles… The Mutant Equality Bill. It passed," Charles eyes widened. Erik hurried to go on. "Do you know that a worldwide manhunt was staged to find you? Over half the world's population of mutants and humans came forward to find you, Charles, working together and beside each other. You've brought the world together. You've brought peace," a tear raced down his face.

"I… Erik… Really?" He stammered. Erik chuckled softly.

"I wouldn't lie to a telepath," a small smile exchanged between them, then Charles shook his head slowly.

"You…" he coughed harshly, pulling against his bonds as he spat blood over the side of the table. Erik's heart froze.

"Easy," he mumbled, pain wracking through his soul in tandem with Charles. Oh, my brother. It tore him apart to see Charles like this. "Easy, there," Charles stopped, pulling himself back unto the table weakly, gasping.

"You… helped," he continued, as a dribble of blood streaked down the side of his mouth.

"Only at your insistence. I'm sorry I ever doubted you, Charles," He shook his head in wonder. "You were right all along," he whispered. Charles was staring at the ceiling, still gasping for uneven breaths.

"S'okay," he mumbled. "I doubted sometimes… Too," he pointed out. Both of their minds flashed to Boston, and the bomb there. Erik shivered. He would not pull Charles's dead, broken body from this place like he had those people. He wanted to reach over, cradle his friend in his arms.

The building shook again, more violently this time. Erik smiled. His team was doing some damage. "That's the others," he told Charles, who looked around confusedly. "They're coming," a small nod. "Charles, can you tell me your injuries?"

Charles shook his head. "To many… To count," he breathed. He cringed and looked at Erik a little desperately. "It hurts… Really bad," he coughed. Erik's blood froze.

"What does?" he demanded.

"Everything… Don't know if… I can hold on…Erik…" The confession was made in shame and apology. Erik's heart skipped a beat.

"You have too, Charles. Hey, look at me! You have too. Who would be Best Man at my wedding?" A quizzical frown.

"Still haven't… Married her yet?"

"No. I wanted to wait until we got you back first," Charles gave him a small, affectionate smile.

"That's sweet," he murmured.

"Shut up, Charles," they sat in a compatible silence for a moment. Erik had just opened his mouth to ask if Charles was still awake (his breathing had slowed) when the door snapped open. Inside walked the mutant woman he had seen earlier. She smiled and stopped in front of them as the building shook again. Erik glared at her from the corner of his eyes as Charles shrunk back.

"Charlene," he whispered with a shudder.

"Charlie," she replied, walking over. She was no older than Raven.

"Who are you?" Erik demanded. "And what are you doing here?" she cocked her head at him, studying him as if to memorize his features.

"Take a guess," she purred.

Her nonchalance made his face burn with fury. "How could you do this to your own kind? You're a mutant!" He yelled.

She barked out a laugh. "Oh, that's rich coming from you! I offer my interrogation services for money. You save humans," She pointed out.

"I help people in need," Erik answered coldly. She crossed her arms over her chest dubiously and gave him a look of tight, unrestrained hatred. Now that Erik was looking right into her face. There was something very familiar about her. She reminded him of…

"A murderer like you? I don't think so," she snorted.

"What do you know about what I've done?" Charles was gazing between them anxiously.

"Erik…"

"I know you took my father away from me," her father? What? Erik glared at her. What was this person talking about? "I know that the humans you save killed my mother," she was almost shouting by now. "I know that I searched for my father for months, and finally found him being eaten by buzzards on Cuba with a coin smashed into his brain. I know that!"

Shaw.

Erik gasped, realizing that she did look familiar. Shaw had had a wife and daughter? When? Erik had tracked him all over the world and never seen him do more than one-night stands with people. True, it only took one time to have a child, but a child that actually loved him?

"He killed my family," he could not take time to deduce Shaw's life now. He had a daughter that had lost her father on his hands now, looking for revenge. Just as he had once done for the death of his own parents.

"He was a hero. A freedom fighter!"

"He killed thousands of innocent people!"

"LIAR!" She screamed, slamming a hand down on the table next to his head. He stared into her eyes, unafraid. She had to know the truth. "You're a liar!"

"Erik!" Charles cried in alarm. Both of them ignored him.

Erik shook his head. "He killed my family. I took my revenge," he wasn't very sorry about it. She bared her teeth in a vicious snarl.

"So how are you any different from the monster you claim he was? Because now my family is dead," her eyes flashed. "And it's all because of you and the humans you love," Erik inhaled sharply, seeing the logic in her words. Charles's gentle but grave advice echoed through his mind again.

"Listen to me very carefully, my friend, killing will not bring you peace."

Charles was always right. Erik sighed. He would not make her pain more by arguing it over with her. He settled. "Take your revenge then," he replied, calmly. "I'm right here," and he was not afraid. He had been through torture before.

The cold smile she gave him was animalistic and as cruelly vain as her father's had been. Erik shivered. "Who says I'm going to take it out on you?" she asked, softly stroking his cheek. Erik paled as he realized what she meant. Charles, from far away, sighed.

"Saw…It coming," he wheezed. Erik's fists clenched.

"He has nothing to do with this," he growled. She smiled deviously and pinched his cheek.

"Did you ever wonder where he got those diamond bullets from?" She wondered patiently. The gears clicked in Erik's mind. Like the diamond bullet in Charles's spine? The diamond bullets that had been shaped and created with such care, and nothing man-made on earth could cut a diamond.

Except if it were a mutation.

She saw in his eyes that he understood. She patted his cheek and walked towards Charles. Erik's voice grew desperate as he struggled, pulling at the binds around his wrists. "Stop!" he yelled. "I'm the one you hate! I killed Shaw, not him!" he cried. She shrugged.

"He helped," she pointed out. Erik let out a curse at the dark, horrible irony of that statement. Charles had been trying to save Shaw, but Erik…

"Killing will not bring you peace."

She circled around the other side so that she was still facing Erik. She smiled at him sweetly, rage and pain the dominant emotions n her eyes. She was enjoying this. Charles did not look at her, though Erik saw him tense with terror. He stared at the ceiling, eyes empty and soul tucked away in a place where the physical pain could not destroy him. He was readying himself to receive a punishment for something Erik had done.

"No!" He shouted irately, struggling harder. "You don't have to do this!"

"If you wanted any mercy from me, Erik," she hissed in reply, placing a hand on Charles's lower stomach, right where the bullet would be on the other side of his spine. If she snapped his spine there… Erik saw red past the tears blurring his eyes. "You should have done only one thing," he went still, shocked by the complete irony. "You shouldn't have killed my father," she finished.

"But I did," Erik gasped desperately. "So why are you going to hurt him? I did it!" he screamed.

"I've learned these past few months," she said softly, her eyes softening with the pain and loneliness of a little girl who had just lost both parents. A reflection of Erik himself when he was younger. "That the best way to hurt someone is to hurt the ones they love," no, no please.

"Are you ready Charles? Don't worry," she assured him, as if he were a young child. "I won't snap your spine. Your daddy isn't done with you yet, I'll just go around it," Charles didn't look very comforted by the idea of not dying. "On three, okay? One…."

Erik thrashed on the table, arching his back and tugging at the binds holding him there. He had to get up, had to get to Charles. She couldn't do this! "No!" he roared. "Charles!" His voice cracked. He couldn't bear this.

"Killing will not bring you peace."

"Two…"

For the first time since Cuba, Erik felt pity for Shaw's pain. Now he was sorry. Once again, when it was too late. "Please!" Erik begged hoarsely. "He's a good man. A kind, innocent man! He doesn't deserve this!" he screamed at her. She didn't look up as she interrupted her slow count-down to tell him:

"In my eyes, my father was a kind, innocent man, too," she looked up. "And he deserved this less. Three!"

Charles's screaming drowned out all other sound. He arched his back so high Erik worried he would snap in two as slowly the diamond was pulled through sinew, kidneys, and muscle to the surface. Erik's own tearful pleas were drowned out by the sound of him screaming. It lasted an eternity before the small diamond plopped gently out of Charles's lower stomach and into her hand.

Charles collapsed against the table, his screams coming to an abrupt end. He lay there trembling and gasped for breath past his sobs of agony. Erik was crying too, tears streaking down his face.

"Charles," he cried. "Charles, I'm sorry. Forgive me Charles. I'm so very sorry," he apologized over and over again. He doubted Charles could hear him. He had partially curled, blood spurting out of his tiny wound and soaking his clothes and the table. He was moaning now, silent tears running down his cheeks.

"That's done," Charlene said with a smile. Just as Charles's father walked into the room. There was a gun in his hand; his hair was speckled with snowflakes. Erik stiffened. Oh, please no.

Charles's father glanced at his son, lying on his back in gruesome agony and cocked his head. "Well done," he gasped, sweat trickling down his brow. "But we're being surrounded. Those damned traitors will be her any second now," he glanced at them.

"He'll bleed out soon," Charlene said, jerking her thumb towards Charles. The other scowled.

"Not fast enough. They'll get here in time to save him," he growled, and Erik would never figure out why that seemed to be a problem for the father of his friend, how he could hate his own kin that much. Charles moaned softly, barely cognizant. Erik struggled to give him strength through their pain-numbed bond. Hold on Charles. Help is coming.

"If you let us go, I can guarantee some clemency," Erik tried to negotiate. Charles's father laughed.

"I doubt you even know the meaning of the word," he sniggered. "No, I won't survive this. Which means," he raised a gun. Charlene's eyes widened as he pointed it directly at her head. With no hesitation, he shot. Charlene tumbled to the floor, dead. "I won't need your services anymore, my dear," he said, quite calmly for a psychopath.

He turned to Charles for a moment and then shook his head as the building quaked again. Erik heard footsteps shaking the upstairs, and sounds of fighting. They had gotten into the building. Time was running out for Charles's father. Please hurry; he could see the gears in the other's mind moving. He was planning something.

Suddenly, his father walked over to a silver cabinet, rifling through the contents. "My last bullet…" he grumbled Erik exhaled in relief. He was out of ammo. He looked to Charles.

"Hold on, Charles. We're almost home," he called softly. Charles was staring at him with glassy, pain-filled eyes. His blood dripped off the countertop.

"Erik… I'm afraid…" He did not specify of what. The way that he admitted it, in a small voice and the something in his eyes told Erik that he knew something he didn't. His telepathy had let him into a secret of the future.

And the future scared him.

Erik's heart twisted. He started to struggle harder, hurrying to reassure his friend. "We're almost there, Charles. Just a few more moments," Charles shook his head sadly. A tear raced down his bruised cheek.

"No, Erik…"

"Here it is!" the monster stood up, and in his hand was a syringe of red liquid. Erik did not have to ask what it was to know that it was deadly. He struggled violently, begging the heavens for help.

"No!" he yelled desperately. "What are you doing? You've lost!" The monster only approached his only born child with the syringe.

"If I'm going, I'm taking this demon with me," Charles's father replied softly.

Please, no. Not Charles. I can't bear it…

"Ugh!" Erik screamed furiously, thrashing in his bonds.

Charles was staring up at his father with eyes full of sorrow and regret. His father stared back at him in kind, and for the first time, Erik saw true emotion in his eyes as he leaned down and gently stroked Charles's hair back. "All I ever wanted," he choked. "Was my son back," Charles's eyes wavered.
"All I ever wanted," he whispered in reply. "Was my father back."

"Well then," the elder Xavier muttered, gently putting a hand on Charles's arm to push it down. Then he pushed the syringe beneath his skin. Charles did not attempt to stop him. He was in too much pain. "I suppose we both of us are denied our wishes," he stepped away and flung the syringe on the ground.

"Goodbye Charles."

"NO!" Erik screamed in terrified rage. The coward left his son a sorrowful glance of hatred before he turned tail and ran out of the door, leaving only a dying Charles, a desperate Erik and a dead body of a sad little girl. "Charles," Erik gasped out when they were alone. The sound of fighting increased upstairs.

"It's too late, Erik," Charles whispered, eyes stuck to the spot where his father had been a moment before.

"No. I won't accept that. We're so close, Charles," when those sapphire eyes turned to him, Erik blinked away tears at the pure remorse in them. "Don't give up yet," Erik pleaded. "What will I tell your sister? What will I tell Cecilia? I promised them I'd bring you home," he told him in a rush of frantic breath.

I won't let you do this to me, Charles. You can't do this…

Charles gave him a poignant half smile of sorrow. "You already know… What to tell…Them for me…" He pointed out breathlessly as his body spasmed, the poison doing its work.

I love you.

Erik swallowed. "This isn't the way it was supposed to go," he cried. "I was supposed to die for you…" Charles shook his head, eyelids fluttering.

"No… Erik, that promise… In Cuba, remember?"

"Erik. My sister. The children… You'll…You'll take care of them? Promise me you'll look after them Erik."

Erik sobbed. "I remember."

"Promise me that, Erik," it was a command. "It's time." Albeit a gentle one. Erik let out another sob and stared into the face that for him had meant redemption, salvation, brotherhood, family.

"Charles, please," he begged. "Stay with me. Please," I can't do this without you.

"Never leave you… Erik…" Chares argued passionately. "You're… My brother… Want you t' be happy, kay?" his chest looked like an inflatable balloon, slowly losing air. "Be free, be safe… Promise?"

There was such compassion-and pleading-in those sapphire orbs that Erik could not deny him. He owed him this and more. "I give you my word," even if it tore out his very soul to do it. "I'll take care of them," all of them. Cecilia included.

Charles saw the addendums in his mind, and his face that had been creased with pain suddenly slackened. "Thank you," he breathed, and his hand stretched out towards Erik. He stretched his own hand out, separated by binds which were physical, but Erik could still feel Charles there, in his mind. "For everything. You're my… Best friend…"

"And you're mine. I love you, Charles. So much," Erik closed his eyes and exhaled a shuddering breath. "Goodbye," he whispered past unwilling lips. He heard a last whisper in his head before Charles's eyes fluttered shut and his ribs did not rise again.

I knew there was goodness in you, Erik…

Then he was gone and Erik did not remember the guttural screams that ripped past his throat. He did not remember the haze of guilt and pain that enveloped him or when exactly the drugs wore off just the slightest bit, allowing him to break free of his constraints. He paid no mind to the blood as he slipped over onto the floor as he stumbled to Charles's side, and he was too busy listening to the breaking of his own heart to hear his frantic sobs as he broke Charles's binds. He collapsed to the ground with the body of his brother in his arms, arms wrapped around Charles's back and shoulders as he pulled him close to Erik's chest and wept his heart out.

"Charles," he moaned like a dying animal, rocking the cold body in his arms. "Charles… Please…" he touched Charles's cold face, stroked his cheeks, kissed his hair, anything to awaken him. Nothing worked. Erik rocked forward, rolling with the waves of pain.

"My heart will break. My heart will break… Charles, please…" he begged the lifeless corpse. He did not remember any of this, but he did remember the expression on Raven's face when the doors to their prison opened and she saw him there with Charles.

He did remember how he looked up to see the devastated faces of his X-Men and Cecilia as they stood in the doorway, and beheld the broken body of their dead leader, lover and brother. "I couldn't save him," Erik confessed his shame, sobbing so hard he couldn't breathe. "Forgive me," he buried his face in Charles's bloody neck and wept. "Forgive me."