Erik paced the yard outside the kitchen like a tiger on a leash. As the dusk deepened, he acknowledged to himself that once again, Madeline wasn't going to show up for what had been their habitual run. Reaching a decision at last, he turned on his heel, marched purposefully back into the house. He had been waiting at the same time every day for three days now, and his always meagre supply of patience was exhausted.

He understood why Madeline had been avoiding him, but that didn't mean he was going to meekly accept it forever. After all, the effects of Wilson's blood had worn off days ago, lasting a scant twenty-four hours before her eyes were green again, her emotions back under her control, her strength and speed a fraction of what they had been – what they could be. So why was she still reluctant to be with him?

Raven had tried to explain it to him, after he had complained to her (half-hoping, he admitted to himself, that she would relay his discontent to Maddy).

"It wasn't just the blood, Erik, that's the problem. OK, that made her horny, and less able to control her impulses. But those impulses didn't just drop clean out of a clear blue sky. Both of you had been kidding yourselves about Madeline's feelings for you. She doesn't have that luxury now, knows what it is she wants from you, and knows you know it too –of course she's mortified. She loves Charles, she would never want to take you away from him – and she knows she couldn't, even if she did. She's terrified that he'll figure it out – its bad enough you knowing. The best thing you can do right now is just leave her alone, let her get over it and move on with her life. Take it from me."

Usually, Erik appreciated the shape-shifter's no-holds-barred, devil-be-damned honesty – but not this time. He felt both acutely embarrassed by her assessment of Madeline's feelings, and illogically hurt that Maddy would confide in Raven about this but not in him, after all that they had shared. Most of all, though, he was frustrated. He felt strongly that time was of the essence – the further away Maddy got from her experience of her new powers, the easier she would find it to turn her back on them.

And goodness knows, that's what she was being encouraged toward by some of the people she trusted most – Hank especially, but even Charles to a degree. Erik knew he had an ally in Raven – she, like him, saw only potential in Madeline's new abilities; but she was also of the view that what Maddy needed was to be left in peace to make her own decision.

Erik knew better: what Maddy needed was his guidance, just as Raven had not long ago. Although of course, he'd done such a number on her it worked against his own interest in this case. He'd told her she was strong, that she was capable, that she had to make her own choices; and she'd taken it on board so wholeheartedly that now she wouldn't listen to a damn thing anybody told her, least of all Erik. He grinned ruefully in spite of himself. He couldn't help but be proud, not matter how inconvenient Raven's independent thinking might be at the present.

Regardless; he wasn't going to just let this thing lie. In the creature that Madeline had so briefly become, and in the means of her transformation, he had caught a glimpse of the destiny of his species. He had to know more.

Maddy was reading in bed when three smart raps on the door brought her head up sharply. She knew there was only one person it could be – Raven would never knock, and Hank tapped so apologetically she always knew when it was him.

Oh God.

She felt the blush burn up her face, her heart start to bang sickeningly against her ribcage. Why had she thought she could avoid Erik forever?

"C-come in!" she called, hating herself for the cowardly quiver in her voice. She squared her shoulders as the door opened, willed herself to act normally. This is your friend, your dear friend, that's all. The way you're feeling isn't Erik's fault.

It was surprisingly OK once he'd walked in. The flesh and blood reality of him helped to dispel the cloud of fantasy and guilt that had been building up around the Erik in her head. His awkward smile as he sat on the bed was reassuring too – at least he wasn't mad at her, and at least he was obviously as embarrassed as she was. Maybe they would find a way forward from this together. She returned his smile shyly, met his eyes.

"I've missed out talks," he opened abruptly. She felt ashamed. Why had she been punishing him for her weakness?

"I'm sorry," she replied. "I've just – it's been a lot to deal with. Everything." Then she blurted out in a rush: "Erik, can we please just forget all about it? You know I know that there's nothing like that between us – can we just chalk it up to the state I was in, put it behind us – just be friends again?" The pleading in her voice was obvious, and she could see that he was touched by it. Her knees were drawn up to her chin, and he reached out and put a hand on one of them, patted it awkwardly.

"Of course we can. I'll always be your friend." She smiled with relief. "But we can't just forget about it all," he continued, and her face fell.

"What do you mean?" she said, apprehensive. He leaned forward, his expression suddenly earnest.

"Madeline, what the blood did to you – you can't just pretend that never happened. It's part of who you are."

Maddy went cold. Something about the way he said it sounded inevitable – almost like a curse. She shook her head vehemently.

"It isn't. Not if I don't want it to be." Erik's face went hard for a moment – then softened abruptly.

"You have no idea how many times I tried to tell myself that when I was a boy. When I first started to be able to move metal, I had no control – things just used to happen, frightening things. At first I thought I was crazy; then I thought I might have some sort of dybbuk."

Maddy quirked an eyebrow questioningly. Erik shrugged dismissively.

"A type of evil spirit. It's not important. The point is, when I realised that it was me making these things happen, I realised that I could make it stop – and I did everything I could to rein it in, to hold it down, to try and just be like everyone else." His lip curled as he said the last four words. And then his expression changed, became desolate.

"I tried so hard I had almost succeeded by the time Klaus Schmidt found me. I'd pushed my power so far down below the surface I couldn't call it up when I needed it. My mother died because I tried to hide from who I was."

Madeline leaned forward, covered his hand with hers. "No, Erik. Your mother died because Shaw murdered her. It was not your fault. You know that."

"But I could have saved her!" The sudden pain in his voice cut through her, threatened to set loose the tide of forbidden feeling for him she had been trying to dam up in her heart. He took a deep breath, tried to compose himself.

"I could have saved her if I had just accepted my gift from the start. If I hadn't have been afraid of it. That's what I want for all of us, Maddy – to accept what we are, to embrace it. That's what I want for you."

It had been a long time since Maddy had thought of Erik as dangerous; but when he gazed into her eyes right now, she understood that his most potent power was not his mutation, or even his boundless fury. It was the force of his personality, the clarity of his vision for their species. The seductive simplicity of it, and the passionate purity with which it was propounded, made his will almost impossible to resist. Nevertheless, she tried.

"But Erik, you saw how it was. I wasn't in control." He shrugged.

"Control is overrated. Control is the first step towards denial. Your abilities are natural to you, Madeline. Once you get used to them, you won't need to control them any more than you need to control your own breathing. But you never will get used to them if you won't even find out what they are." She knew her doubt must show in her face, but he obviously saw something else there as well, because suddenly, he changed tack. His voice took on an almost caressing tone.

"Tell me how it felt, when you were running. When Raven attacked you and you fought back. How did you feel?" She bit her lip, thought about it. Thought guiltily as well of the moment when she had pulled Erik into her arms in the sick bay. How did you feel?

"Powerful. Free."

The words dropped out without passing through her brain. She gasped, clapped her hand over her mouth. When she met Erik's eyes, they were alight with pride and triumph.

"Well don't you want to feel that way again?"

They crept into the darkened sick bay, illuminated only by the sickly light of a swollen yellow moon. Neither of them turned the lights on, and neither of them made mention of this. Although Erik was certain in himself that he was doing nothing wrong, there was an undeniably furtive feeling to their mission. Erik was focussed on his goal, but nonetheless was having trouble trying not to think about what Charles would say if he knew what they were up to. Erik could only hope he'd understand in time; Madeline was the future of their kind. Her gifts had to be encouraged, nurtured, not locked away inside of her. Charles would see that one day. He would forgive Erik for what he was about to do.

Madeline hesitated in the doorway between the lab and the sick bay, so Erik strode forward, threw back the door of the supply refrigerator. The girl froze in the blue glow like a rabbit in the headlights. The metal bender bent and pulled out a couple of pouches of blood, trying to ignore the trembling in his hands.

"Come here," he said, and Madeline approached, never taking her eyes off of the bags. He took in her apprehensive aspect, and put the pouches down on the gurney.

"Maddy?" She looked up at him, blinked, then set her shoulders back.

"I can't perform a blood infusion on myself. You'll have to do it," she said.

Erik took heart from her tone, her obvious determination to see the thing through. However, he was suddenly aware he had been so focussed on getting her this far that he hadn't given the slightest thought as to what happened next. He barely knew one end of a syringe from the other, might do her real harm if he made a mistake. He looked at Maddy helplessly, acutely conscious of the fragility of her new resolve, of the fact that this might be his only opportunity to give her the push she needed into her new life.

He picked up a scalpel, tore open a blood bag. He saw her throat constrict as the smell he could barely sense slammed into her mutated nose like a freight train. He grabbed her wrist, pushed the bag into her hand. Cold blood slopped over both their knuckles, dripped onto the floor. The sound seemed to echo in the air; both of them were suddenly breathing hard.

"Drink it," he whispered. She flinched.

"Drink it? I am not an animal, Erik!" She hissed the words, and for a moment the wounded look in her eyes almost made Erik abandon the whole scheme. Almost.

"Madeline, listen: do you remember the way blood smelled to you when you had it in you? Do you remember what you wanted to do?" She closed her eyes, and both of them remembered the moment Erik had walked in on her standing by the fridge, holding the bags of blood up to her face. Her eyes snapped open. Looking into his, she slowly raised their joined hands, knotted round the bag, and tipped the thick red liquid down her throat.