My god you guys - Thankyou for the reviews on the last chapter. I can't even begin to explain how happy it makes me to see them, or how happy it makes me to know that you're enjoying the fic. So, really, thankyou so much for taking the time to leave a note to let me know that you liked a chapter - it means more than you can imagine. Big hugs for you all!

And, now ... I hope that you also like this chapter =)

A week had passed since Christmas, and Charles still refused to take the decorations down, and Erik simply didn't care enough to make him. They made Charles happy and, as much as Erik hated admitting it, seeing Charles happy had a tendency to make him happy.

Which was precisely why Erik was in the local grocer's at that time, hunting through the shelves for that particular brand of ice-cream that Charles favoured. It was possible that if he hadn't been there, the events that followed wouldn't have happened. But fate seemed to enjoy throwing curveballs at him.

It wasn't until he was almost back at Charles' mansion that Erik realised he was being followed. There was that distinctive sound to someone's footsteps when they were following you, and the person behind Erik had that tone. Naturally, he would be followed home the one time Erik had been forced to use his every coin to pay for the groceries.

Slowly, he turned to look over his shoulder to assess the one following him, to decide whether he'd be able to take them on physical strength alone. Erik was completely startled, and, frankly, a little bit afraid, when he realised the one following him was none other than the one he'd come to England to avoid.

"Shaw," Erik greeted, his eyes narrowing as he reached out to whatever metal he could find. The fire hydrant – That'll be useful.

Shaw simply smiled pleasantly at him as though it hadn't been a year since they'd parted and began to walk towards Erik, looking every bit a panther toying with its prey. "Erik. Dear Erik, I've been wondering where you'd vanished to."

"I intended it that way," Erik replied, trying to keep his tone neutral and mask any intimidation he felt at Shaw's presence. He remembered how unpredictable Shaw's temper could be, and he would rather this ended without bloodshed.

'Erik, you need to come back. Right now. You can't take him alone.' Charles was whispering to him, a distinct concern to his presence.

'It's not that simple with Shaw, Charles.'

'Then I'm coming out.' Erik's stomach plummeted to the ground and his mouth went dry at the thought of Charles meeting Shaw face to face, and he knew then that he needed to find out what Shaw wanted, and fast. He couldn't let Charles get mixed up in this.

"What is it that you're looking for, Shaw?"

"How cold and distant of you Erik! I must admit, meeting you here was a surprise, but it's a pleasant one, right?" Shaw asked, his mouth stretching into that maniacal grin, and with that alone Erik knew that this meeting was not going to end peacefully.

"I can't say that I return the sentiment, unfortunately." Metal, metal … There had to be something nearby he could make use of. Oh, there was an iron fence a few houses down. That could help if things became dire.

"Erik, you didn't really think I'd let you slip out of my grasp did you?" Shaw was saying as he stood a few paces away from Erik, a chill to his voice now and Erik understood that he'd pissed him off. He could see it in those cold, emotionless eyes, "After all the effort I spent to bring you to me in the first place?"

The words took Erik completely by surprise, and though he could hear Charles saying 'Ignore him. Ignore it. He's just trying to bait you. Wait Erik, please. I'm almost there,' Erik's green-grey eyes still narrowed suspiciously.

"I came to Brooklyn cos that's where the police dumped me. It certainly wasn't by your power."

Shaw's grin, if possible, stretched even further, and Erik knew he was being baited, knew that Shaw was leading him down a path, and that Erik was following that path magnificently, but he could also feel a nagging sensation somewhere in his mind. Like he was on the verge of discovering something important.

'Don't listen. Please don't listen.'

"Ah, you mean you still don't know? I have to say I'm actually disappointed Erik. Did you lose your drive for revenge then?" 'Don't listen to him. Don't listen to him. Almost – I'm just around the corner'. "So you won't care if I tell you it was me who killed your mother then?"

The earth stood still, Erik's mind came to a complete halt. He couldn't even feel Charles anymore as the words pounded through him. It was me who killed your mother. Me who killed your mother. Killed your mother. And Erik saw that day again, saw the blood spatters on the wall, felt the anguish all over again. The police files he stole came swimming to his mind, he remembered that the autopsy had said she'd been brutally tortured, before finally receiving a bullet to the head. All those years he'd spent searching, wanting vengeance – And he'd been instead protecting the bastard who'd done it?

"You – Fucking – Why," Erik snarled

"Because I wanted you, of course." Erik didn't even hear the rest of what Shaw was saying, his blood was pounding in his ears too loudly. He could hear Charles all but yelling No Erik, no! He's not worth it. Not worth it, but Charles didn't understand – How could he? His father had died by an accident. His mother had been murdered – The one person he'd had in his life had been murdered, and all because this son of a bitch had "wanted" Erik? For what, his power?

An animalistic growl ripped its way from Erik's throat as he wrenched the iron bars off the gate, fully intending of ramming them down Shaw's throat. Each and every fucking one of them.

Shaw simply smirked as if things had gone according to plan – and maybe they had, but Erik didn't care right then. He was going to avenge his mother's death. – before he began to run in the opposite direction, Erik following after him with single-minded determination.

Erik could feel that Charles was gaining on them, he could feel the ring slowly coming closer, and he still didn't care. The only acknowledgement that Erik gave the telepath was 'Stay the fuck away Charles' as he proceeded to chase Shaw down, hurling the bars like javelins as he went, only to pick them back up as he passed.

And Shaw was laughing as he went, somehow dancing around the bars that Erik was throwing as if he'd developed a new mutation in Erik's absence, "Come now Erik, Surely I trained you better than that? Or has your new telepath made you weak?"

If Erik had been seeing red before, his entire self became red at the fact that Shaw was even daring to comment about Charles.

"You know nothing," he hissed, bending the bars and hurling them in a curving arc like boomerangs, hoping to knock Shaw's feet out from beneath him. Still Shaw managed to dodge them, and Erik let loose a roar of frustration.

All of a sudden, Shaw stopped moving, and Erik automatically skidded to a halt himself, suspecting a trick. But it wasn't that Shaw had stopped running, Erik realised and he stood there, tense and waiting, it was that he had actually been stopped, like someone had hit a giant pause button.

Behind him came heavy panting, and Erik would have thrown one of the iron bars at the noise instinctively if he hadn't felt the ring that Charles was wearing.

"I thought I told you not to come!"

"Erik, please just be quiet. I can't hold him like this for long. I need you to bind his arms."

Realising that, whatever Charles was doing, Shaw was absolutely no threat, Erik watched his frozen form thoughtfully, a bar drifted through that air as he did so. If not for Charles, he wouldn't even hesitate to kill him – How long had he spent dreaming about exacting his revenge on his mother's killer? And here was the perfect opportunity, the killer unable to move even a muscle. And yet, infuriatingly, Erik was reluctant to let Charles see him in that light.

"I should just kill him," he said slowly, circling around to look into Shaw's frozen face as he went, feeling the anger and years of pain well up deep inside of him.

"No. No Erik. Killing Shaw won't bring you peace."

Erik barely even looked over at Charles as he spoke, "What if 'peace' was never an option? Because of this arsehole, my mother is dead."

"I appreciate that Erik, and I can understand your want, truly I can. Shaw ordered your mother's death, and he wasn't even man enough to do the job himself. But you need to be the better man Erik, you can't let yourself sink to his level. You're so much better than that, and this is the time to prove that."

Charles' eyes were wide and pleading, but Erik was too focused on Charles' words to even breathe. As much as that explains why he'd never suspected Shaw had a hand in his mother's demise … How did Charles …?

For the second time that day, Erik world felt as though it had just upended itself. "How can you possibly know that?" he asked in a dangerously low hiss, his eyes locking onto Charles' form, and the guilty look that flickered over Charles' face was enough to make Erik take a step back as if he'd just been sucker punched.

"Erik, can we please discuss this some other time. My control is slipping," Charles panted, and Erik could see the bead of sweat as it made its way down Charles' brow, could see how difficult Charles was finding it to keep Shaw frozen, and, for the first time since becoming reacquainted with his childhood friend, he didn't care – couldn't bring himself to. Not with the realisation that Charles had kept information about the death of his mother to himself. Erik felt as though he'd been betrayed, and considering how few people he let get close to him as it was, that was entirely unacceptable.

"No. We're not discussing this," he hissed softly, and Charles' eyes widened to the point that he looked like he'd just been slapped. It was enough to make Erik nigh desperate to get away, as if he wasn't already at that point.

His hands moving automatically, Erik twisted an iron bar around Shaw's arms and legs to ensure the bastard couldn't escape – Let Charles do with him what he saw fit - and then he did something he had thought previously unthinkable. Erik pulled another bar up and held the tip of it tight against Charles' throat, looking at the man he'd come to love with cold and detached eyes.

"Get out of my mind – Completely," Erik growled, and the bar was held so tightly against Charles' throat that he could feel the telepath's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, his eyes still entirely too wide, yet strangely devoid of fear.

It was positively killing Erik that he was being forced to do this, turn his powers against Charles like this – But how could he trust Charles again after the younger man had just revealed himself privy to information about the murder of his mother? How could he have kept that to himself, knowing what it had meant to Erik?

As he felt Charles withdraw, leaving Erik's mind his own once again, he ruefully thought he should have expected it. Should have expected something like this would happen. He had always thought that Charles was entirely too innocent, and too trusting. Erik had always suspected he'd end up doing something that would break him – And he could see that it was; He could see it in the firm line that was Charles' mouth, in the way his eyebrows had curled in on themselves. He could see it in those ridiculously large, blue eyes as they searched Erik's beseechingly.

It was just fucking annoying that walking away the way he was about to was breaking him too.

The second Erik felt an emptiness where Charles' presence had lingered, he started backing away, his grey-green eyes locked on Charles as he went, his expression a mask of cool indifference. His eyes flicked over to the still-frozen Shaw, and he wanted, oh how he wanted to tighten those iron bars to the point that they actually crushed the man into pieces. But he didn't, he couldn't bring himself to. Possibly because Charles was right there, and his eyes were still searching Erik's face for something unseen, seemingly unaware that there was a tear rolling down his cheek… Or possibly because Charles' words Be the better man were still resounding in his head.

Whichever it was, Erik simply walked away. He walked until he could no longer see Charles, and then he ran until he could only just feel the metal that he'd been holding to Charles' throat – which he quickly allowed to fall to the ground – and he ran some more, until he couldn't feel a single band of metal that was wrapped around Charles' finger.

~X~

It was weeks before Erik finally stopped running. Weeks before he realised that he couldn't run anymore – He'd used up all his savings and could no longer afford to rent out cheap, motel rooms. Couldn't even afford to buy himself something to eat, or another beer to try and help the pain. Not to mention he was in desperate need of a shave.

And so, it was with great reluctance that Erik caught the bus t hat would take him back to Oxford University, his stomach clenching uncomfortably the entire way. Not that Erik needed to worry about running into anyone, it was still summer break and the campus was practically empty. In some ways, that just made it worse.

He was almost disappointed, but mostly unsurprised, when he opened his room to find that everything he'd taken to Charles' was sitting neatly on the lower bunk, including the things he received for Christmas. There was no note to be found among his things - no heartfelt apology for keeping something like knowledge about his mother's killer to himself, not even an irritated little message telling him that he didn't understand, and that annoyed Erik in ways he knew it shouldn't, all things considered.

But then Erik saw the woven ring sitting atop his desk, and Erik's chest suddenly felt as though it had been ripped open. The breath was knocked out of him, and he fell onto the lower bunk with his head nestled in his hands, trying to calm the trembling of his shoulders.

How had everything gone from being so right, to so wrong in such a short time?

~X~

Several more weeks pass in which Erik all but throws himself into his schoolwork, so much so that his professors start sending him emails that tell him that 'As much as I admire your enthusiasm Erik – I'm on holiday. You should be too', and when he runs out of work he can do without the teacher's assistance, Erik goes to the gym and trains. He trains and beats the boxing bag into a pulp until his knuckles hurt, and then he trains some more.

When he tires of the gym, Erik moves to the library – making a point to ignore that corner with the chess set that had been abandoned - and devours each and every book on Electrical theory, or magnetical theory, or anything even remotely related to those, starting from 'A' and working himself through the Alphabet.

Erik is fully aware that he's behaving like a madman, doing everything in his power to keep himself busy, but he can't help it. If he lets himself stop, he starts to think, and if he starts to think, he starts to think about Charles, and then he starts to mope, which is entirely unacceptable.

He's just about to start to read the first book under "O", when he turns around and is met by an infuriated Moira MacTaggert. Erik can practically see her hair bristling as she shoves him back into the bookcase.

"What did you do to him?" she demands, completely bypassing all small talk, and Erik, for just a moment, admires this, before he realises she's making it sound like he was the one who had been in the wrong.

"I didn't do a single thing, perhaps you should be asking -"

"Don't fuck with me Lensherr. I will maim you in so many ways before finally killing you, you'd think that death was a mercy. So tell me what it was that you did to him, right now, if only so I can make a punishment that fits."

It's the vehemence behind her words, the desperation in her eyes, that makes Erik realise that maybe, just maybe, something is actually wrong with Charles, and the thought completely chases away all thoughts of 'wronged' and 'betrayed'.

"What's wrong with him?"

Moira's glare intensifies before pushing Erik into the bookcase again, and if it weren't for the fact that she was simply a pathetic human that Charles was fond of, Erik might actually push her back.

"Why don't you tell me, Lensherr? He hardly eats, does little more than sleep, keeps sighing about 'Screwing everything up', and refuses to leave his room! Raven forced him to come back here early hoping that I'd be able to help him, and nothing has! Nothing is working, and seeing as it was simply you and Raven he spent his holiday with, suffice to say, the problem must lie with you – So fix it," Moira stopped for a moment, breathing heavily and Erik looking at her with wide, bewildered eyes, before she suddenly burst into tears, burying her face in her hands, which Erik thought might be even worse than her aggressive questioning.

"I don't know what's wrong with him, but you're the only one that means enough to make him react this way, so, please fix it. He hasn't been himself for weeks, and I don't know what to do anymore."

Erik sighed softly as he made a point to ignore Moira's blubbering. On the one hand, he was concerned about the fact that Charles was clearly neglecting his health, but on the other …

Apparently, his concern for Charles outweighed the fact that he was still mad at him.

"Alright. Alright, fine. Just, shut up already," Erik growled, and Moira looked at him resentfully through her watery eyes, though Erik was relieved the obnoxious sobbing had stopped. "I'll see him, but don't expect it to be magically better because of that. If anything, it'll probably just make things worse," he muttered as he stalked away and up to Charles' room, feeling heavier with each and every step, completely unaware that Moira was smirking victoriously at his retreating back.

. . .

By the time that Erik came to stand before room 404, he was wondering how exactly Moira had managed to convince him to come here in the first place. Even if it had bothered him that Charles wasn't well … Did that overwrite what Erik saw as a betrayal?

He took a steadying breath before pulling the flimsy lock aside and entered the room nevertheless though.

When Erik first caught sight of Charles, he was immensely glad he had come after all, because he couldn't recall a time when he'd seen Charles look less refined than he looked right then.

His hair was a right mess and looked as though it hadn't been brushed in weeks, sticking up at odd angles that Erik was irrationally inclined to smooth down. His eyes were watery and red-rimmed, and looked very much like he hadn't left the bed.

The thing that convinced Erik he'd done the right thing by coming by, however, was the fact that Charles was wearing what was clearly one of Erik's turtleneck sweaters. Even as Charles looked over at him reproachfully from the nest of blankets he was nestled in, the sight of Charles in his turtleneck spoke more than words could – It didn't even occur to Erik to wonder how Charles had got his hands on one of them.

"And what brings you here?" Charles muttered, pointedly rolling over so that his back was facing Erik. Erik simply swallowed a sigh and sat down with his back resting against the bedframe.

"Moira demanded I come 'fix you'," Erik said blandly, not even bothering to try and cover for the girl. Charles would find out eventually anyway, and it wasn't as though Erik was inclined to help her out, even if he did respect her a slight amount more now that he'd seen what she was willing to do for someone she cared about … Though the crying had still been annoying.

"I don't need 'fixing', thankyou very much. I'm perfectly fine."

"Oh, yes. And you look it too Charles. Tell me, when was the last time you bathed?"

Erik raised his eyebrows and cocked his head towards Charles' form as the silence stretched on, the very silence emanating off the other man screaming 'Irritation'. Still, Erik sat there waiting, deciding that now that he was here … They may as well get this over with. He rather missed Charles' presence, now that he was allowing himself to think about it.

Eventually, Charles huffed before saying softly, "There was a reason why I never told you, by the way. And it wasn't because I was keeping things from you, or anything equally asinine that I'm sure you've accused me of. I was going to tell you …" Scowling heavily, Erik opened his mouth to retort angrily, but Charles pre-empted that by raising his voice, "I was afraid, okay? I was just fucking afraid."

The confession startled Erik enough that his anger was temporarily replaced with surprise. In all the time he'd known Charles, he'd never known him to be afraid, and the very idea of Charles being afraid of anything was unsettling. Slowly, Erik asked, "Of what?" his tone still uncertain.

"Of what would happen if I told you." Erik had to bite down on his tongue to stop himself from saying anything as his temper flared. Instead, he waited for Charles to explain himself. Hesitantly, Charles did just that, "I knew that if I told you, you'd hunt Shaw down. You'd have thrown everything away for the chance of revenge, and I wanted more for you than that. Was that so wrong?"

"It wasn't your choice to make Charles."

"And what if I'd told you Erik, what then? You go hunt down Shaw, kill him and then end up being locked away for life because you're a dangerous mutant? No my friend, I wasn't going to let you suffer that fate – I care for you too darn much for something like that."

Erik's mouth had just opened to growl about his life and his choices, when it closed again with a stunned snap. There was a sudden protectiveness emanating off Charles' back, the kind of which that Erik had only ever felt coming from him when Raven had been harassed by some bigoted frat boys. To realise that Charles felt that way about him too was flattering, to say the least.

"… You still shouldn't have kept it from me," Erik repeated, feeling his will to fight dissipating. Charles still refused to face him though, and Erik had to fight the sudden urge to pull on the younger man's shoulder, to force him to look Erik in the eye.

"Would you like to know what happened to Shaw because you chose not to kill him?" Charles asked, continuing on before Erik had a chance to answer, or comment on his choice of words, "He was the one imprisoned for life as the dangerous mutant. Because they had him, they were able to link him to several more deaths – ones that span over the past few decades, in fact."

Frowning as he considered that information, Erik turned to look at Charles' back with a suspicious look in his eye. "You knew about that how?"

And Charles seemed to understand that Erik wasn't only referring to the numerous deaths Shaw had been behind, because he shifted uncomfortably beneath his blanket-nest before he sighed heavily. "I must admit, I haven't been entirely honest with you. Shaw was, in fact, the reason why I thought it imperative Raven and I relocated here to England."

"Explain."

"Your charming friend Miss Frost, young as she was, made the mistake of telling him about Raven and myself … and you. Shaw wanted Raven, wanted her power, and, from what Frost had told him, he knew that he could control her through me, and me through you. It was all part of an elaborate plot that tell of his years, really. Because he'd been able to successfully take you under his wing, he'd thought it time to 'collect' Raven and I."

Erik's hands had clenched into fists as he listened to Charles' explanation. He was going to kill that damned woman when he saw her next – As soon as he found out where she was. All of this, because she hadn't known to keep that damnable mouth of hers shut. A hand on his shoulder broke through the murderous thoughts though, and Erik looked over his shoulder to find Charles was looking at him ruefully.

It was ridiculous how relieved Erik felt at being able to actually look into those blue eyes again, and it was in that moment that Erik realised there had never been a question of when he would forgive Charles, but rather a question of when Charles was going to forgive him for walking away the way he had. Erik would always forgive Charles, no matter what the telepath put him through. It was just part of what came with loving the frustrating younger man.

Charles seemed to understand that he'd been forgiven though, even without needing to read Erik's mind - which Erik was sure he hadn't, considering he couldn't feel that presence in the back of his mind that had always told him Charles was there - because he suddenly smiled softly before he started talking again,

"Don't be mad at Frost, Erik. It was actually she who came to warn me about Shaw. I believe she'd been jealous of Shaw's fascination with Raven actually, and while her motive may have been flawed, it's thanks to her that we're all here today."

Sighing loudly as he let the idea of hunting Frost down go, Erik asked, "So, how did Shaw come to be here then?"

"Ah. That was your professor's fault actually. Though, Shaw had given him no choice in the matter - He'd threatened his daughter, and told him that if he didn't tell him where he'd sent you, he could kiss his daughter's life goodbye. Ruthless, really. I don't know how you were able to stand him all those years," Charles' nose wrinkled in his disgust, and Erik found himself grinning just a little bit at the sight.

Charles cocked his head to the side as he took in the smile and chewed at his lower lip for a few seconds before blurting, "You're smiling. Does that mean I'm forgiven?"

"Hmmm," Erik hummed thoughtfully, if only to see Charles chew on his lip for a little longer, before sighing dramatically and saying, "I suppose so."

The relieved, "Oh thank heaven's," that Charles breathed at Erik's words took him by surprise, but the feel of the smaller man's arms wrapping around his neck startled him even more. Though Erik knew they'd hugged constantly when they were younger, ever since meeting again, Erik had been more wary of how much physical contact there had been between him and Charles – it felt far too intimate now, especially after the night of Charles' twenty-first and Erik had awoken with Charles wrapped around him.

Still, he hardly even hesitated before bringing a hand up to clutch at Charles' arm, prolonging the hug that small amount as a barely there smile tugged at the edges of his mouth, decidedly ignoring the suggestion of a blush on his cheeks.

And then Charles tensed slightly, his arms tightening a little before he asked with a mild pout, "... Can I have that ring back then?" and Erik was forced into surprised laughter.

"Oh no, you gave it back. Besides which, I've already returned it," Erik lied as smoothly as he was able.

The lie was almost worth it, because Charles' look of absolute horror was the most amusing thing Erik had seen of late, though he was mildly disappointed by the fact that his arms withdrew from around Erik's neck.

"You did not," Charles was all but screeching, his eyes wide with disbelief, "Tell me that you're lying Erik, because, honestly, that was a gift. You had no right to take it back!"

"But you returned it Charles. What did you want me to do? Leave it sitting on the shelf as a reminder of the friendship I'd lost?" Erik sighed, trying to resist the want to laugh.

He hadn't expected Charles' eyes to suddenly cloud over as he slumped down against his pillow. Quietly, he said, "You'd never lost me Erik … I don't think you ever could," and for just a moment, Erik thought that the statement seemed too grand for the situation at hand, but he was at a loss for what else Charles could be referring to.

"I'm fucking with you Charles," he told him, his eyebrows drawn together as Charles' words kept repeating in his mind.

Erik was distracted, however, as a soft force suddenly collided with his head, and he realised that Charles had just thrown his pillow at him.

"That wasn't funny Erik!" he was snarling, and all Erik could do was smile up at him in amusement.

"I thought it was," he declared, and was forced to scramble out of the way as Charles took hold of a second pillow and tossed, his mouth pulled into a scowl that simply didn't suit Charles at all, which somehow made it all the more endearing.

Suddenly, Erik heard a tentative 'Does this also mean I'm allowed back in your mind?' projected to him, and Erik covered his face with a hand as he groaned loudly at the question that Charles hadn't been able to voice.

"You're incorrigible, Charles. You know that, right?"

"With this, perhaps. Please, Erik?"

Unable to help himself at the pleading tone that Charles was using, Erik removed his hand so that he look over at Charles, fully intending on scowling at him with disapproval. He instantly wished that he hadn't, because Charles was making use of that puppy-dog expression he'd somehow perfected, and it seemed much more potent with Charles in Erik's turtleneck. As soon as he was hit by that expression, Erik found that all he could do to acquiesce with a short nod of his head, even as his lips tightened into an unsure frown.

As soon as Erik felt Charles' cinnamon tea presence flutter at the back of his mind again though, he couldn't hold back the sigh of relief that had slipped through his teeth, and he just hoped it was soft enough that Charles hadn't caught it.

Charles' eyes were closed though, and upon opening that connection to Erik's mind again, he hummed appreciatively as if he'd just had a taste of the most exquisite hot chocolate before sighing, "Gods, I've missed the feel of you," and then his eyes jerked open and both he and Erik blushed profusely.

"Oh. Oh, that sounded – I simply meant – Oh dear," Charles was babbling, covering his face with his hands, while Erik scolded himself for allowing the image of Charles uttering those words under different circumstances to present itself.

Ever a cause of frustration to Erik, Moira chose that moment to open the door cautiously. Her eyes sweeping from Charles with his face in his hands, to glare accusingly at Erik. He could almost hear the thought I asked you to fix him, not break him, and Erik had to fight the urge to snarl defensively at her.

"No, no. It's not what you think Moira," Charles hastened to explain, peeking through his fingers at her. "We're fine now, this is ... something different."

"Different?" Moira repeated, an eyebrow arching as she invited herself into the room, and Charles simply nodded his head repeatedly as she sat down on the edge of the bed, still glaring at Erik suspiciously.

Erik simply rolled his eyes at her scrutiny before saying, "Forgive me Charles, but I have work to continue with," which was a complete lie. Charles lowered his hands as he fixed Erik with a look that told the metal-bender that Charles knew it was a lie, but he didn't care much for spending more time in the human's presence than was absolutely necessary.

So, with a fleetingly apologetic look at Charles, Erik left the room. It was only as he overheard Moira tut and say to Charles, "Where did you get that shirt from anyway?" that Erik realised he meant to ask about that too, since he had no recollection of Charles borrowing one of his turtlenecks before.

When Erik threw himself on his bed for some leisurely reading a few minutes later, he was still wearing a grin.

... You surely didn't think I'd let the divorce happen, did you? I could never separate these two like that ... Not again, anyway. If I could have things my way ... The Divorce would never have happened in the movie either, but, seeing as I have no control over such things ... This is the best I can do.

And I hope that you all enjoyed that - Even if you may have wanted to kill me at some point, haha!

Oh, and for anyone curious to know ... In that final scene there, in my mind, Charles wasn't wearing anything other than Erik's Turtleneck. It didn't seem appropriate for the scene to point that out though XDD