1962, after Erik's first attempt on Shaw's life.

[cointossing]

[Charles was gone. That familiar, calming presence in his mind, gone, his friend and lover and the only person still keeping him grounded, gone. And Erik fears, suspects, the worst.

It's his fault. He had tried to kill Shaw in a moment of rage, sent a knife flying at him, only to have it deflected because the man was still so much more powerful than him; Erik suspected he was constantly absorbing energy just to maintain that. But still, he'd tried, just like that first night on the boat when he'd tried and Emma had stopped him and he'd met Charles Xavier. God, to go back to that; if only Erik hadn't listened, if only he'd just killed Shaw.

Erik knew he'd be punished for it, after all he'd promised to join Shaw if his friends were kept safe. But he thought, hoped, that the punishment might be torture against himself. He'd asked for that, demanded it, would rather be hurt than see anyone else hurt. But of course that's not what happened, and of course Shaw had picked Charles, or seemed to have.

The moment Erik wakes up that morning, the moment he can't feel Charles anymore if the moment he's storming into Shaw's study, every piece of metal in the room shaking with rage. His restraint is hanging by a thread now, because if Charles was dead, Erik didn't see any point to anything, he couldn't get through this, and he wouldn't be able to stop himself.]

What did you do to him? [He demands, his voice trembling with anger, fists clenched, barely holding back from melding every piece of metal in the room into knives and sending them hurling at Sebastian Shaw. This man had murdered his mother, tortured him for a year, destroyed him, and now Erik was forced to submit to his leadership in order to save Charles and the others. He spent every second he had to spend with Shaw in a constant state of rage, and only Charles had kept him back.

And now Charles might be dead.]

Comments

[cointossing]

[Erik loved Charles, he truly did, he loved him with all his heart, but he should never have listened to him. Charles believed too much of the good in people. He should've killed him, shoved the coin through his brain and all of this wouldn't be happening.

But he hadn't, and they were all here now. He's beginning to think he was a fool to make this deal, that maybe they could've escaped somehow, that they would've been better off out on the run, nuclear war or not.

Erik has to be careful, he knows, because as much as he doesn't trust Shaw, he certainly trusts that Shaw's left instructions to kill his friends, and his lover, should he be found dead. No, next time, he has to be careful. And he will be. He just needs to get Charles back first.

Spatzi. Little sparrow. The name sets his teeth on edge, makes his stomach turn. He hates the vulnerability it implies, hates being reminded of how weak he was, how weak he still is.

Erik pointedly ignores the endearment (he'd tell him to stop, but he knows that's not going to happen; it isn't the first time Shaw has called him that) and the question that comes with it. Not that it matters, he gave the game away by getting angry; there's no way Erik would know something happened to Charles if their minds weren't connected. But he couldn't help it, couldn't help his emotions.]

No. That isn't good enough. I want to speak to him, be in the same room as him. [He paused, and forced the metal to stop shaking. It was obvious Shaw enjoyed it when he displayed his power, though Erik still has the letter opener in his hand..]

You told me he wouldn't be harmed if I joined you. I did. I'd rather you hurt me instead of him.

[hellishfire]

[See, Shaw knows that his Spatzi loves the professor and that the professor loves him in return. It's all very sweet and unexpected because really, Shaw hadn't thought Lehnsherr had it in him. Or, to be more precise, he'd been trying to get Lehnsherr not to have it in him, to see what it would take to mold the boy into someone Shaw could use - or, at the very least, get a decent amount of entertainment out of before kicking the bucket. But that's okay because Shaw doesn't mind surprises and he certainly doesn't mind a leverage against the man.

Shaw is particularly enamored of the name Spatzi. A poor little bird he'd found, barely old enough to fly on its own. He likely would have been killed had Shaw not stepped in and to be honest he found himself awfully fond of the boy. So, Spatzi, his little sparrow.]

Spatzi, please calm yourself. It's perfectly alright if you don't trust me but there's no need to be so demanding about it. [Still, he stands and adjusts his suit with a kindly, understanding look.] Let's talk about this. Walk with me.

[Completely unheeding of the weapon in Erik's hands, Shaw walks past the other mutant and out the door of his study. His expectation is that Erik will follow. He does not look behind himself to see if that's the case.]

He isn't harmed. I haven't touched him, just like I promised I wouldn't, and he's in the same state of health he was the last time you visited him. Besides, I'd rather not have to hurt either of you. I really do hate having to lift a finger against our kind.

[cointossing]

[Erik hadn't thought he'd had it in himself, either. Or, to be more precise, he didn't think he deserved it. Monsters aren't supposed to fall in love. The sum total of his life was supposed to be killing Shaw, and quite possibly dying in the process. He never thought about a life after that, or happiness, certainly not happiness with someone like Charles Xavier.

But he had that love now, and he was going to cling to it no matter what Shaw did to him, or to Charles. He tried to remember the things Charles would say to calm him right about now, the feelings of love and adoration he'd shower him in. He wished he had that now.

Erik doesn't want to talk, doesn't want to listen to Shaw call him by infuriating pet names and act like there's something meaningful between the two of them when all Erik feels for him is hate, hate, hate.

Nevertheless, he turns and walks with Shaw, shoving the letter opening into his pocket. He isn't likely to use it, but perhaps it might be helpful later.

And really, he has to scoff inwardly at Shaw's rhetoric. Sometimes when Shaw talked about how mutants were better than humans, Erik agreed with him, but the longer this goes on, the more he is beginning to think that those views aren't sincere, that Shaw only believes in Shaw.]

Wouldn't you? You killed Darwin, before all this, and I know you would've killed Charles. [His voice twists with anger then:] You tortured me, and killed my mother.

If you really mean the things you say, then I want you to let me see my friend. If he isn't dead, then you've done something to his power. [There's really not a whole lot of point in hoping Shaw didn't know about Erik's telepathic connection with Charles; he must've known, Emma probably told him. Or he made that very educated guess.]

[hellishfire]

[That's the problem with letting someone tug you onto new trajectories: you're never quite sure where you'll end up, especially not with someone else calling the shots for you. Look where Lehnsherr's 'happiness' brought him. Really, if Shaw possibly had it in him to feel pity, he'd pity the man. Probably. He thinks.

It's curious to watch the other mutant now with so many decades between the boy Shaw molded (molded, destroyed, you say potato) and the man standing before him. There's still the spark of anger, of course - not that Shaw'd expected that to go anywhere anytime soon - but the coping mechanisms are different now. He can see Xavier's effect on his prized pupil and finds himself both irritated and impressed at the same time. He'll have to remember to compliment the professor later on his superb manipulation skills.

Shaw sees what you're doing with that letter opener. It's cute. You're adorable.]

You'll remember that he tried to kill me first so I apologize if I don't shed a tear. I can't help mutants who refuse to help themselves. [eyeroll] I did, yes. We established that the last time you brought the subject up. I believe we also established that I made you as strong and driven as you are today, so. [eh. there's a lovely English idiom about omelets and eggs here but Erik probably would not be appreciative.]

Now why oh why would I want to do something to his powers? [It was undeniably clever, Shaw will give them that. Privacy, he's learned, is a precious commodity in these sorts of environments.]

[cointossing]

[Erik stiffens slightly, even as he continues walking with Shaw, continues until he stops, stepping in front of him. The metal in his pocket is comforting, secure, and the knowledge that he could shape it into a sharp knife and use it against Shaw, that was also comforting. But only coldly so, because he knew he couldn't, he knew he wasn't strong enough. Not without a telepath, or someone to keep Shaw in place.

And despite all of Charles' desires that Erik still not kill Shaw, that Erik was better than that, Erik still had to do it. He still wanted to. He wanted to be free of this man, didn't want to be his pupil or his pet monster any longer. He didn't want to be anything to Sebastian Shaw.

Still, if he's going to kill him this time, he would need to be smart about it. So the letter opener remains in his pocket, a comfort, for now, much as he wants to try it.] You didn't need to kill him. Is this the world you want to create, where you kill every mutant who disagrees with you? [Erik didn't want to live in that world, he didn't want to live with a dictator. It was one thing to lead a movement for mutant freedom, but to start killing other mutants simply for disagreeing? No.

Shaw, of course, was different. He'd killed Erik's mother, he deserved to die for all the horrible things he'd done.] Yes, you made me stronger. But there were other ways. [After seeing Charles unlock the powers of the others with love and kindness, not pain, Erik had come to firmly believe this. He'd lifted Shaw's submarine with what Charles had taught him, not what he'd gained from Shaw.]

To punish me. Now, you have to let me see him, talk to him, it's the only way to make me accept you haven't killed him.