When Charles received word from his sister they were going in, he'd been inside Cerebro for a total of fifteen hours. His head felt worn and stretched. He was hungry, yes, but in a way that seemed very distant.
His eyes seemed like they were warming and stretching into goo. However, he had to hold on for another few hours. After that, it might all be over. All he needed to do was hold on for a little while longer, fulfill his part of the plan.
At the same time, they were going to wait for around another forty minute before starting. It was enough time to shut off the machine, grab a granola bar and some water, use the bathroom. Charles put a hand to his forehead and realized he was running a slight temperature. He'd have to rest for a while the next day. The last thing they needed was him running up a fever.
He finished his first glass of water and poured another one.
Dad?
He winced. After so long in Cerebro, even a psychic whisper felt like a kick in the teeth. However, he knew it was relatively close. He took his glass of water and rolled down the hall.
Kevin was seated there with his back against the wall. He had his arms wrapped around his legs, and was looking forward with wide eyes. His expression softened when he saw Charles though.
"Kevin, it's five in the morning," Charles said, "You should be in bed."
"Can't sleep," Kevin replied, tapping his foot.
Charles looked at his watch. He had a little time.
"You've had a long day," he said, "You should rest."
"Can I just stay with you?" blurted Kevin, "I think...I think something...I mean...I just..."
He trailed off, looking at Charles desperately. Charles sighed.
"Kevin, I wish you could," he said, "I need to go back to Cerebro though and...two telepaths would disrupt it."
It was a lie and, if anyone who had been inside Cerebro heard, he knew he'd be caught out. However, a second telepath would be problematic. They might be able to glimpse what he was seeing. He didn't want to Kevin to see anything that went down at the factory that night.
He'd already seen more than enough for a lifetime.
"Can I just...I don't know, stay outside the door?" asked Kevin, "I'll go to bed right after but I just..."
He bit his lip, pulling his knees tighter. Charles frowned.
"Did something happen?" he asked.
"No," Kevin said.
It was the same kind of 'no' he'd gotten the night Laura's claws had split her skin. He glanced down at his watch and saw he only had ten minutes before the team would need him. He sighed again, putting his glass down on a nearby table.
"Grab a blanket," he said, "You can sit outside. It might not be comfortable-"
Kevin nodded and leaped to his feet. Charles watched him go, resolving to get actual details out of him as soon as everything was over. Guilt clawed at his mind. Kevin was his son. He was supposed to be his first priority.
Instead, he was off sequestered for hours upon hours.
"I'm back!" Kevin announced, a large blanket trailing behind him.
Charles smiled as Kevin walked beside him, quiet, but content, all the way to Cerebro. He could see dark circles under his son's eyes, and he seemed slightly jumpy. Again though, time was running out.
He kissed him on the top of his head before going back into Cerebro.
"Try to get some sleep," he said, "Maybe we can devote all of tomorrow to sleeping actually."
"All of today you mean?" asked Kevin.
"That's right."
Kevin smiled, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders and curling up in a corner. Charles swallowed hard before going back into Cerebro. This had to end soon.
"We're in position. Roger."
Erik touched the comm on his ear.
"Good," he said, "Wait until Quicksilver gives you the signal before you go in. Roger."
"Got it. Watch the main outside light. Roger."
He pulled his finger away from the comm and looked at Logan. The feral mutant was crouched next to him, his eyes meticulously following the workers below them. It was dusk now, and many of them were turning on the outside safety lights. The main one was positioned in the middle of the compound.
At the same time, he could see that he'd cocked an ear, no doubt trying to listen in on Erik's conversation with Mystique.
"They're in position, although I assume you already know that," Erik said conversationally.
Logan snorted.
"Did Kayla say which scope she's usin?" he asked.
"She didn't say, and I declined to ask," Erik said, "Especially given your rather impassioned defense of her abilities earlier."
Logan snorted again, although this sound had a much greater degree of scorn in it than it had previously.
"And, granted, she's making things easier," said Erik, "It just does give me a moment's pause that you didn't pause before siding with her."
There was a pause, and he could've sworn Logan was glaring at him out of the corner of his eye. He hadn't even turned his head. It was a true gift, Erik decided, being able to radiate that much derision with so small a look.
"It's not a great feelin, lettin someone ya love go inta battle with ya," Logan muttered after a while, "But...part o what I love about her is that she's a fighter. She'll swim upstream if she feels there's a reason, won't stop or slow the hell down. She just won't."
Logan shifted again, still looking at the factory. Erik could see how uncomfortable the situation was making him, having to talk about the people he cared about. At least in that respect, Erik understood him.
"An...ya can't just put a damn cover over that light, just coz ya don't want it to blow out," said Logan, "Even if ya can, if ya rationalize it, sooner or later, that flame's gonna run outta oxygen, die."
Logan's hands clenched and unclenched.
"Must be why Chuck keeps training all those damn kids that come ta him."
"Or his savior complex," Erik said, "Won't turn anyone away, wants to give everyone an opportunity. He sees things other people don't."
"Coz they're not there, or coz they're harder to see?" asked Logan.
Erik paused, considering.
"The second," he said at last, "If you look at Peter, the kid barely made it out of high school. No college education, a penchant for petty theft. He once agreed to break someone out of the Pentagon just to see if he could do it."
He made a gesture with his hand.
"Charles looks at him, sees teacher material, someone who can be trusted to lead others," said Erik, "Someone who won't take the easy way over what he believes to be the right way, as we saw today. He could've just left Kayla behind, gotten himself out safely, but he nearly lost his hand and suffered more than just a little blood loss so he could bring her back."
Logan raised his eyebrows.
"Him, a teacher?" he scoffed.
Irritation prickled up Erik's spine.
"Yes," he said, "He's more capable than you believe, which is why Kayla's with us right now."
"Okay then," Logan grunted.
He saw Logan's eyes dart impatiently to the factory, itching, ready to go. The main light, however, shined on.
"He some kind a family ta you?" asked Logan.
"Charles?" asked Erik.
"Nah, the kid," Logan said, "Nephew or somethin?"
"Nephew?" spluttered Erik.
"Just a thought," said Logan, "Coz that kid looks up ta you. Seen it in the way he looks at ya. Not the best role model for anyone, but who the hell am I ta judge?"
Erik frowned, his eyes dropping down to the factory.
"He really shouldn't," Erik said.
"Neither should Laura, bein perfectly fair," Logan grunted, "She asked me if she could smoke the other day, and I'm pretty sure Kayla's gonna be pissed if she repeats some of the shit I've said around her."
He chuckled again, but this laughter was fonder, warmer. Erik knew he was already picturing nights with his daughter in his arms, his lover resting her head on his shoulder. Was he as far as imagining doing homework with her, game night, visiting a carnival?
Something started to bleed inside.
"I'dve wanted her to look up ta someone else, maybe Chuck or his wife. At least she'll have Kayla, but we don't get ta choose, do we?" asked Logan.
"No," Erik said, thinking of the child he sang to sleep.
There was another pause, and Erik wished he could go back to a year ago, just for another chance to tell Nina how amazing she was. He wanted to be able to hold her in his arms, tell her her mutation was beautiful, that she was loved.
Being a father had been the only thing he'd thought he was any good at, and then she'd died in his arms.
"Seriously though," Logan said, "You two ain't related?"
The words yanked him sharply and uncomfortably out of his musings.
"No," Erik snapped, "Why do you keep asking?"
"Cause you have the same goddamn eyes," Logan snapped back, "His are darker, but it's the same damn eyes."
Erik stared at him. His first instinct was, again, to point out that their eyes were a different color. However, that wasn't what Logan was saying. He paused, thinking about the times when Peter hadn't been laughing or making a joke. He thought of the moments when he was serious, or angry, or when he was concerned.
And yes, in those moments, there was something familiar. An uncomfortable feeling started in the pit of his stomach, a strange anxiety.
"I'm your... I'm here for my family too."
The main light in the compound went out, shattered by Kayla's shot. Logan jumped to his feet and started moving to the underbrush, Erik following close behind.
As soon as Kayla felt the light tap on her shoulder, Peter's quick reminder that, yes, he'd made it there and back, she shot at the main light. It shattered, causing some confusion, but there were still plenty of lights for her to see by.
Raven shifted next to her, and she heard Peter flop back, resting. She had yet to ask how he blocked all the cameras, but he'd been clutching a roll of duct tape wen he set out. It was nowhere to be found now.
The next part, constantly drawing attention to her position, was less comfortable. However, Raven had promised that her brother would follow through with his part of the plan. She needed that reassurance in a way that people like Raven and Peter probably didn't even think about.
She shot at some of the fleeing workers. Kayla kept things non-lethal: many of them might think they were drawing a legitimate paycheck. Her memories of the factory were filled with memories of worried glances sent her way, of murmurings that stopped when she came too close.
However, when she recognized Zero on the tarmac, her finger stilled. Her orders were, of course, to take out any members of Weapon X she saw. Zero had been one of her trainers. She remembered him handing her her first sniper rifle, snapping at her to change her scope, to slow down and take her time with the shot. There were times when he would help her with her targets, acting more as an irritable drill sergeant than the brutal taskmasters Vic and Essex had been.
And then she remembered the night when she'd been captured. She remembered his shots in her arms and legs, being dragged by him to Essex's lab. She remembered him watching, smirking when Essex told her about Laura, when the collar was put on.
More than anything, she remembered him leaning down as they approached Westchester, whispering in her ear:
"Time to put down your baby daddy, bitch."
She shifted the gun and aimed for his head. Kayla saw him look up, no doubt realizing where she was, and she pulled the trigger. The bullet hit home, sending him down to the ground with a spray of blood.
Kayla jerked away from the scope and reloaded. One of the Weapon X dicks were down. Now there were just three more to go.