He should have predicted that this would happen. He knew that removing each of the X-Men who were in Apocalypse's clutches would be difficult, that each would come with its own struggles.

Storm had been easy in retrospect. She was an Omega, yes, but she had been able to fight against Apocalypse's control, and he would gladly fight her any day of the week rather than deal with the current state of affairs.

Morph, in comparison, had been a slightly bit more difficult endeavour. So lost were they in their own self-doubt, their self-worth, that it had been difficult to reach them at first.

But Magneto was determined.

He reached out to the younger mutant in a way that most people wouldn't be able to, by way of empathy.

For who can truly understand someone who has been locked up and experimented on better than someone else who has been through the same?

When the X-Men were finally able to free Morph from Apocalypse's control, they were able to provide them with information on how to free the last living Horseman: Logan.

"...you're gonna need Jean." They admitted begrudgingly.

Morph had confessed to trying to keep Logan calm while he was unconscious by taking Jean's form while on the asteroid, and feared that by doing so, it had messed with his mind in some way.

Or rather, Apocalypse was using that to his advantage.

So, with that in mind, Jean had taken the lead in trying to get through to Logan, distracting him while Pietro and Cyclops made quick work of destroying the device attached to the back of his neck.

They had discovered that Apocalypse had reintegrated the adamantium that coated Logan's skeleton, and his body had healed from the damage caused by said adamantium being pulled from his body by Magneto.

Of course, now that Logan was free of Apocalypse's control, the sight of Magneto had him seeing red.

He had retired the red and purple suit that so many associated with him, and had now donned a similar one in white, a symbol of hope for fellow mutants, a stark contrast to his previous attire.

But Logan was not in any way merciful to the Master of Magnetism.

"You really think changin' your stripes makes you any less of a coward? Turnin' your back on the world, and leavin' us all to die?" Logan had growled.

"I offered you a choice, Logan. The same choice that was taken by Sunspot and Rogue."

"Oh yeah, and where did that get them? Where is Rogue, huh? Did she finally have enough of your crap?"

"Logan, that is enough!" Jean pushed him by the shoulder.

"Just speakin' the truth, Jean. She's gone, isn't she? And I have no doubt it was somethin' to do with ol' bucket head."

"She is gone because she saved us all from Bastion, Logan!" She was in his face now. "And need I remind you that Magneto has led the charge in removing you, Morph, and Storm from Apocalypse's grasp. The words coming out of your mouth next should be 'thank you'."

"Oh sure. Because I should thank the man who ripped the adamantium from my body."

"Because you stabbed him, you idiot!" She yelled. "What the hell did you think was going to happen! You attacked him, he fought back. End of story."
Logan, to his credit, had never been yelled at before by Jean like this. He was stunned.

Jean took a deep breath, and there were tears as she spoke.

"Rogue was pulled into the Siege by Bastion. There's a possibility that when it opens once more, that she won't be her anymore. So instead of bickering with each other, we need to be figuring out how to handle the possibility…." She couldn't say the next words.

"...the possibility that she may never come back." Magneto finished quietly.

It was at that moment that everyone in the room turned to see the expression on Magneto's face, the harsh reality that he himself had tried so hard not to face.

"You may hate me all you want, Wolverine. It makes no difference. But I made a promise…a promise to prepare you all in the event that Bastion achieves his goal. And I intend to see it through." Magneto calmly stated, and walked out of the room, the somber silence falling upon the X-Men.

Her search of the Citadel continued, curiosity getting the better of her. If she remembered the date correctly, then she and Erik were both here in The Savage Lands for a few weeks at least before he started having the psychic attacks.

Which means there has to be another journal somewhere.

She searched just about every room, not finding anything in the places that would be obvious.

There was one room, down the hall, that she wasn't sure if she should enter.

The studio. He kept all his paintings in there. It wouldn't….

She found herself opening the door, and found it just as she remembered.

Everything was organized, except for the supplies that were sitting on a stool, like he had just stepped away from the blank canvas sat there.

Dust settled over everything, and she saw, in the corner, a wall of paintings and drawings she recognized.

They were all of her.

She remembered each one, all in different settings and lights, some in watercolor, some in oil, others charcoal sketches. She had loved each of them, the way he captured her.

Hold on. Where's…

One was missing, and not just any painting.

The first one.

The one he had done the night they made love for the first time.

Did he….take it with him?

It wouldn't surprise her if he did. That painting was sentimental to both of them.

Curious, she searched the drawers in his studio, just to see if maybe he hid it away.

One drawer, stuck on something, was hard to open.

Finally, she got it open, and inside was the missing journal, sitting next to a small box.

Well, at least ah found it.

She opened the journal, and it picked up where he had left off.

Perhaps one day I will tell her how I truly feel. But not today.

She kept reading, as it appeared he had added more later that night.

Is this truly what happiness feels like? I fear it all to be a dream. She came to me tonight, with a desire to not be afraid of herself or her decisions anymore. I relished in it, a great pride in her assertiveness. I dare say, she is her most beautiful in this way, the way she looked as she slept next to me, her body relaxed and sated. She has bewitched me, and I am a willing participant in her spell.

The entries thereafter were much the same, up until one that was made a few weeks later.

30 August

Oh, how deeply she has changed me, in ways I don't think she even realizes. I look forward to the sight of her eyes as she first wakes in the morning, the sound of her drawl when she first utters her morning greeting. It makes me want to abandon the day's activities and spend hours leisurely making love to her. I must admit to having given in to such desires on multiple occasions.

But the greatest change is what I see when I think of the future. Plans change, alliances shift, but when I think of what I want for the future, I cannot imagine it without her at my side. She encourages me to be better, to be the man she sees when she looks at me. I never want to be apart from her, to show her my undying love.

I hope that the ring I have fashioned for her will show her just how deep that love is, and how willing I am to walk hand in hand with her always.

She gasped at those words, and her eyes drifted to the box.

Is that….what ah think it is?

She set the journal down, and picked up the box carefully, opening it and covering her mouth in shock.

It was a ring.

A silver band, with a kite-shaped black opal in the center, surrounded by emerald and amethyst stones.

He was gonna ask me to marry him?

She felt bittersweet tears form in her eyes as she held the ring between her fingers, the emotions overwhelming.

She kept reading the journal, and what she found in the next entry was heartbreaking.

3 September

The nightmares are returning. I had hoped they were gone for a while, but it seems they are back. The worst one was last night, the visions of my parents and sister, frightened as they are pulled from me viciously, cast into a fire, and the screams….the screams sounded like Anya's.

Each entry she read got worse and worse.

10 September

What is happening to me? I feel as if my mind is being ravaged, plagued by this disease. I have tried to hide it from Rogue, but I see it in her eyes. She wants to help, but is afraid. I don't want her to be afraid of me. I don't want her to see me in such a broken state.

The tears ran down her face.

12 September

She is gone. I have driven her away, I know I have. I could never force her to stay, not when I do not know why I am plagued so. Perhaps….it is not my lot in life to find and keep such love.

She set the book down and sobbed into her hands, crying for the man she loved so much, who had thought that it had been his fault that they had parted, when now she knew the full truth.

She hated Charles for what he did. Hated him for doing this to the man she loved, to her.

Before she could fully process her feelings on what she had just discovered, she heard the sounds of intruders, and tried to find something, anything to defend herself.