Peter coughed, a hacking, deep thing from his lungs. Something light and dusty settled around his face when he did. He opened his eyes and stared at darkness, no better than if he'd just kept them closed.

And then he started laughing because, dammit, he wasn't dead! His ribs and back screamed when he did, but that made him laugh even harder, because he still had ribs and legs. He may not have feet when he was able to investigate, but right now he still had a torso. That was great!

"The hell are you laughing at chuckle monkey?"

"Logan!" Peter laughed, "Oh my God, you're alive too! Where are you, by the way? Can't see a thing."

He paused for a minute, digesting those words.

"By the way, know where we are?" he asked.

"Not a damn clue," Logan said.

There was a shuffling and he could just make out a mass next to him. Thoughtful, Peter reached out and flicked its side. Something strong and painful grabbed his wrist.

"Ow!" Peter said, "I just wanted to see where you were!"

Logan growled, but let go of his wrist. Peter held it to his chest, rubbing his fingers back to life.

"So…still no clue where we are?" asked Peter.

"Wherever we are, it's got a low ceiling," Logan grunted.

Peter reached out, and his fingertips brushed something soft and earthy. Dust fell onto his face, and he coughed again.

"Feeling like we're underground," he said.

"It's deeper than a foot," Logan said, "Not sure how much deeper."

"How do you know that?"

"I stabbed it. Do ya see any light?"

"No. No I do not."

He rolled his shoulders, looking thoughtfully at the blackness. It was getting easier and easier to see and, as it did, he tried harder to remember what had happened. He'd been running with Logan, his shoes melting, and then he'd been pushed. He thought the force of the explosion was catching up, but he wasn't sure anymore.

"Think we should break through this?" asked Peter.

"Don't know what's on the other side," Logan said, "I've got no damn clue how long it's been since the explosion. Could still have fire or some shit above us."

Actually…it's quite…it's quite safe.

The Professor's voice made Peter smile.

"Hey-o!" he said, "It looks like we're not dead!"

I'm really glad.

The voice, soft and tired, bu joyful, made Peter pause.

"Um, do we have a lack of oxygen in here?" he asked, "Coz I could've sworn I heard Kevin."

Oxygen…will be…a concern, the Professor said, But yes, he's here.

I shouldn't talk too much, Kevin said, My dad said the link is kind of weird, so I'm making it harder for him to talk since I'm kind of in his mind. But I'm really glad you're alive.

"Me too little dude!" Peter crowed.

There was a soft laugh, and then Kevin's voice faded out.

I've surveyed the area, the Professor said, So…you can…you can punch out of it. There'll be glass on the last layer…heat, some reaction.

"Not a problem," Logan said.

Tell Erik…tell him that…tell him that Essex was still inside when the explosion happened, he said.

"Bodacious!"

"Of all the people ta get trapped with…"

It's time for you all to come home.

Peter grinned. Home. That was great news. Laura would have a great time with her new mom, and he would have a great time with a box of twinkies. For blood replenishment. He'd been reading about that, and he'd need the snacks. Maybe he could make Scott get some for him.

One thing was still a little weird though.

"By the way Prof," he said, "Not that I'm not really excited, but, um, how are we alive?"

There was a pause.

It's…complicated, the Professor settled on, I'll explain when you get home. Just know that everything is fine, and you need to get back…back before…Erik starts to worry.

"Okay, okay," Peter laughed.

And…Peter?

"Yah?"

You did very well today.

The voice left his mind, and Peter beamed. He was still beaming when Logan punched through the roof and a faceful of dirt and sand poured onto his face.

"Dude!"

Logan grunted, and Peter heard glass shatter. He moved away as Logan pushed over one of the walls, sending dirt flying everywhere. The glass, however, was left on the ground, scattered. Light flooded in, and Peter had to shut his eyes tightly: too much, too fast.

Slowly, he reopened his eyes, centimeter by centimeter. Logan stood up, brushing himself off. Now that he had his sight back, Peter could see that he was covered in the black sand and something else that looked like soot.

"Nasty," Peter said, "But I'm guessing I'm looking more like Quickcharcoal right now, huh?"

"Whatever kid."

"Do not call me kid," Peter said, getting to his feet.

"Why's that?"

He shook his jacket out, and gave an unpleasant grin.

"Coz I'm only one year younger than Kayla," he said, "So it's totally gross if you think I'm a kid."

Logan made a face, and Peter laughed.

"Come on, let's go see her so she can hear my joke," he said.

The face Logan made was rather more irritated now, but he wasn't going to ruin anything for him. All around him there were chunks of concrete and fire, a thin layer of ash over everything. The air smelt like burnt wood and concrete, and something greasier. It was probably something uber scientific, organic, and disgusting.

But he didn't freak out, didn't try to cover his nose. Instead, he punched the air triumphantly. They were alive. He'd never been so relieved to not be dead, even when Nur was doing his great big evil monster thing. He'd felt death licking at his heels, but he was still breathing.

More than that, he'd had some clarity in those minutes. He knew what he would die regretting. He needed to get on that, because if he died soon, and he hadn't already taken care of that, he'd be pissed. There were a lot of elements to everything, but he figured he'd take care of some of the scariest aspects first.

After all, he'd almost died. He was feeling a little scare-proof. He pulled his goggles down, double checking to make sure they were in place before he grabbed Logan to join the others.

Charles shoved off his helmet, placing it on the control panel as Cerebro powered down. Kevin was curled up in his lap. His eyes were open, but just barely. He wasn't surprised. Using Cerebro wasn't a picnic for the uninitiated and, even if he had been piggy-backing Charles's mind, it couldn't have been pleasant.

He pushed away from the machine, his arms weak. Dried blood covered his face. To his dismay, he realized that Kevin had dried blood on his face too. There was some blood on his sleeve, and Charles sighed when he realized that his son had tried to stem his bloody nose.

He went into Hank's lab where, to his relief, he found some of the back up medical supplies and running water. There wasn't much they could do for what had happened, not unless a wet cloth and aspirin counted, but it was better than nothing.

Charles spied a bed in the corner. It had been a cot the last time he'd looked at it, and he wondered where Hank had found the time to move a whole bed into the lab. However, it was fortunate it was there. Kevin was clearly not going to make it upstairs and, judging by the way his hands were shaking as he cleaned his son's face, neither was he.

Hank had a few school shirts for them, which was good, since his was covered in blood. Kevin's was splotched with it and, while he couldn't make everything perfect, he could at least ensure his son wasn't sleeping in his own blood.

He pulled on one of the shirts, and so did Kevin. He'd managed to tuck Kevin in and pull himself into the bed. It was rather amazing because he was close to passing out. It was soft when he laid down, especially considering Hank's forgetfulness when it came to taking care of himself. At least he was sleeping on a good mattress.

However, no matter how tired he was, he couldn't sleep. Kevin hadn't said a word since they'd discovered Peter was alive, just looked at him with heavy eyes. Charles was more than a little worried about that. What his son had done that night was nothing short of amazing. He'd actually used Cerebro to reach out to manipulate the world.

Logically it made sense if his powers were, indeed, based in his mind. All Cerebro did was amplify brainwaves. Hank had said it was waiting for a telepath, but they hadn't researched other applications. Kevin's telekinesis was, technically, based in his mind. What he'd seen that night wasn't telekinesis, but it could be similar.

That wasn't what was worrying him though. What was worrying him was that he'd seen that power before. He'd seen those gritty elements swirling to make something out of nothing. That kind of manipulation was still something that, on occasion, showed up in his nightmares.

No, Kevin hadn't been using it in the same way Nur had. However, it was the same mechanics, perhaps on a smaller scale. Thanks to that, he knew exactly how strong his son could be, the temptations that would be available to him as he grew. The temptations were already available if he was honest, already reaching for him.

"Dad?"

His son's voice was quiet, thoughtful, and a little scared. Charles turned to him, trying to be as cheerful as possible. He felt ready to collapse at any moment.

"That man, back there," Kevin said, "I mean, at that misty place. Did I…did I kill him?"

The question threw Charles. He blinked at him for a minute, then shook his head.

"No," he said, "The explosion did that."

"He was trying to kill you. Us."

Charles was too tired to lie and, honestly, he had a feeling Kevin was simply looking for a confirmation. His son had seen too much of the world's darker aspects to doubt Essex's goal. So he nodded, waiting.

"I could've killed him," Kevin said after a minute, "I think I had, have, the power."

He looked at his son for another minute, feeling himself inch over an abyss.

"Did you want to?"

Kevin hesitated, then shook his head.

"No," he said, "I wanted him to stop hurting you as much as I could. I just…wanted him away. Teach him you can't do that to people. I didn't want…I didn't want to see him in me."

Something about the way he said "him" made Charles realize he wasn't talking about Essex. Kevin was talking about a man who had stolen a little corner of his childhood. He was talking about the man who, to him, was almost a non-person.

This one part of him though, remained very prominently in his mind. Charles reached out, cupping his son's face with his hands. Kevin's eyes looked into his, pleading and big. He needed to know that what he had wanted to do, the person he'd wanted to be that night, had been achieved.

All at once, Charles felt his fears vanish.

"Kevin, listen to me closely. What you did tonight was incredible," he said, "You have a great gift Kevin, one we need to look at a little more closely so you can safely work with it, just like you work with your telepathy and telekinesis. I've seen people…take a gift like that to the extreme. But…"

He smiled.

"I see you, and I know that's not you," he said, "Because you don't want to be the one that causes fear in people's lives. You want to be something more, someone who protects others."

"I wanna be like my parents," Kevin whispered.

Charles felt tears slip down his cheeks. He leaned over and kissed Kevin's forehead.

"You already are," he said, "And I have never been prouder of you."