Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

ERIK

Erik was a logical man, he prided himself on that fact. Maybe not so much in his younger years, but in time he had changed the way he dealt with his trauma. Okay…maybe not so much he had changed his ways as much as it was Charles’ ideas and reasoning having an influence on him, and Magda's trust in humanity, no matter how many times it seemed to fail them both. It’s why he had finally tried to agree and come to a certain degree of understanding with Charles and his ways of thinking. It’s why he and Magda had a second chance at a life that they had thought was impossible to obtain. It wasn’t easy, and it still isn’t. But god, he was so tired. Tired of fighting, tired of running, and most of all tired of being angry.

He had built his life around revenge and anger. Out of never ending grief and loss, and chasing something he knew he would ultimately never get: peace. And he had accepted that, finally. He had agreed to help Charles create his school, which was still currently in the developing stages. Had decided that a life for him and Magda was indeed possible, if they tried to put their painful past behind them. He had agreed to try this new path, this path without violence and fighting. Instead he decided to help those like him find peace and acceptance of their own, something he never had a chance at. Yes, he had a new beginning. Something he had yearned for all his life. 

And he was going to burn it all to the ground when he got out of here. 

Of course he should have seen it coming, he had been sloppy, complacent and left his guard down.

He had agreed to visit a potential student and their parents, who were wary about this new found school for ‘gifted youngsters’. Magda and Charles thought it would be a good idea, get to know the families on a personal level. Of course one of their main concerns was of him being a staff member there, which was quite reasonable given his long ‘semi-terroristic but ultimately cleared of wrongdoing’ history. Charles had suggested that he go and reassure them in person, to prove to them there was nothing to worry about. He hadn’t even sensed anything out of the ordinary before the dart had struck him in the neck. He had been foolish to think the world was safe for any mutant, even himself.

Bringing him to his current situation: powerless and captive. He hated this feeling, one he hadn’t had since he was a child. Charles’ views and ideologies be damned, Erik was going to kill every last one of these traitors the first chance he got. That chance did not currently seem very likely as he was being dragged down a corridor handcuffed and strapped with a power limiter around his neck. He entered an elevator, along with three guards armed with plastic firearms, of course. No chances to be taken.

The elevator doors opened to another long corridor, this time lined with cells along the left side of the wall. He was able to get quick glimpses inside them as they passed by, each one with about three cots each on the side of three walls that made them up. They came to a stop at the very last one, a heavy door with a small window made up of bars and just large enough to look through. The main guard unlocked and opened it, then gestured to the other two guards who had accompanied them on the elevator. They drew their weapons and immediately aimed them at Erik as the main guard unlocked his hand cuffs. 

“Try anything and these men have permission to shoot you dead, not to mention the others on this floor and facility.” Even Erik wasn’t mad enough to test his luck.

He kept silent as they roughly shoved him into the cell and slammed shut the door. He immediately reached for the collar around his neck and began trying to pull at it, perhaps he could dismantle it somehow. 

“That won’t work.” A young voice called out. 

Erik turned toward the direction of the voice, it coming from the far right side of the cell. His eyes fell on a young boy, a child. The child in question was obviously a mutant, this being a prison for such. But also because of his striking silver hair. He was small, very small. Malnourished more than likely, making it hard for Erik to get a good estimate of his age. He was no stranger to this sight, his mind flashing back to visions of his childhood in the camps. He felt immediate anger, that this treatment of any living being could still be possible in this day and age. The child looked wary of him, defensive even. Erik could tell right away that he would have to tread carefully with the kid.

“Also don’t try prying it off with a fork…last guy fried his head almost clean off trying that one.”

Jesus. What other atrocities had this child witnessed? Erik did not want to know the answer.

“Noted, thank you for the warning.” He replied. 

The child looked down and nodded lightly, wringing his hands together nervously. “Yeah, well the smell takes forever to go away.” 

Disturbing yet again. 

“I’m Erik.” He introduced himself and walked slowly towards the kid, stretching his hand out in greeting. He had anticipated a guarded reaction, but not one so defensive and frightened. The child immediately took to his feet from his seated position and backed into the far right corner of the room. 

“Stay away! Don’t come any closer!” He yelled, holding up what seemed to be a plastic bowl. The only weapon he was able to obtain in this desolate room Erik guessed. Erik immediately backed away and held both his hands up, palms facing outward to show he wasn’t a threat. He slowly backed away to the wall opposite of the boy, putting as much distance as possible between him and the child.

“I’m sorry, I promise I mean you no harm.” He said in a calm and gentle voice 

The child’s dark eyes followed his every movement until Erik's back hit the wall, unable to move away any further. He hadn’t lowered his ‘weapon’ yet. This was worse than Erik had first thought. He would have to be very careful from now onward. Erik slid down the wall into a sitting position, still holding his hands up.

The child still hadn’t said a word.

“I can see you have been betrayed before, and I’m sure nothing I say now will make you trust me.” The kids' brows furrowed slightly before answering Erik. 

“Just stay on your side of the room and we won’t have a problem.” 

Erik nodded in agreement. “Of course, you have my word. Do you perhaps have a name?” He would really like to call him something other than ‘kid’ and ‘child’ in his head.

“Peter.” He mumbled back.

Erik gave a small smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Peter.” 

Peter scoffed as he finally lowered the bowl he was holding and sat down in his corner, suddenly looking exhausted. “Nothing nice about this place, don’t have to lie.” 

Erik let out a huff of breath in amusement, tilting his head back against the wall. “Hm, I assume you’ve been here for a while then?” If he could get an estimate on how long this place had been here, then perhaps it was only a matter of time before it was found. Be it by Charles or the CIA (Who were “on good terms with us my friend, Moira has proved to be a faithful ally!” as Charles had insisted)

“Five or six months…I think. Time is hard to keep track of here.” Gods, no wonder Peter was so wary. That was an eternity for a child his age, which Erik still wasn’t sure about. Physically he looked to be about seven perhaps, but he was quite articulate for a child.

“How old are you, Peter?” He asked. Peter looked up defensively again. 

“Why do you wanna know?” He snapped.

Erik put his palms up again and apologized before saying “Of course, it’s none of my business.”

Peter studied him intently, pursing his lips before letting out a sigh and answering “I’m eight.” in a soft voice.

“Eight?” Erik repeated in surprise. Yes, very small for his age.

“Yeah, so? Mad you have to be stuck in here with a kid? Well I didn’t ask to be stuck in here with another stupid grown up!” He had obviously taken Eriks tone in reply wrongly. 

“I simply thought you were younger, I mean no offense” Erik tried to rectify.

“Younger?! I’m not a baby! I could take you if I didn’t have this stupid limiter on old man!” He yelled defiantly. 

Old man? And this kid definitely wasn’t as shy and timid as he seemed a few minutes ago. ' Good.' Erik thought to himself. Peter was no doubt a survivor, and he would need that fight in him to continue being one. A sad truth, but a truth nonetheless. Erik suddenly wondered what this childs mutation was.

“I have no doubt you could, I’m sure you’re very strong.” He replied to Peter. 

Peter let out a frustrated and tired breath. 

“Don’t patronize me.” 

He seemed exhausted and angry. So angry. Erik didn't blame him, who wouldn't be after six months of this hell? The boy was defensive of strangers for a reason, and it wasn’t just of the guards. To have to withstand god knows what everyday and that of some fellow mutant who should be an ally and someone he could trust. No, Erik would not have an easy time gaining Peter's trust soon, if ever. Erik decided the best thing to do at the moment was not respond, he would give the boy space, as much as he could in this cell. The cot located against the center wall sat empty, Erik staying at the far left corner nearest the door and Peter sitting defensively in the far right corner opposite of him. Erik closed his eyes and leaned his head back. He’d need plenty of rest to prepare for whatever they had planned for him.

WEEK ONE

Surprisingly, they didn’t torture him endlessly right away as he had predicted they would. He thought they would want information from him. Namely information about the addresses of a half dozen or so safe houses he and Charles had taken upon themselves to set up. Erik, Raven and Logan were the most frequent users of them, using them when they had a lead nearby. Leads on places just like this, imprisoning and experimenting on mutants like they were animals. But no, there were no questions whatsoever about their seemingly still secret investigations. Erik was at least thankful for that.

The first week they had taken Erik out of the cell every other day, him being carefully followed by five guards. Three more than the average two that every other prisoner was granted, Erik noticed smugly. They hadn’t tried to get information from him, or physically harm him. They had instead only taken blood and had him run a stress test. He had a feeling this painless and easy testing wouldn’t last long.

The days he wasn’t taken for testing, Peter instead was. He didn’t seem to be worse for wear when he came back, except for his pale complexion, no doubt from the blood they had also extracted from him. Erik noticed the many scars on the boy's arm, track marks from weeks worth of blood extraction and gods knows what else. His arms resembled that of a drug addict, Erik noted in disdain and disgust. 

Peter kept quiet, barely saying a word the first three days of Eriks imprisonment. Usually Erik didn’t mind silence, often craving it. But this was starting to grate even his nerves. He had even tried to make conversation, maybe try to gain the boy's trust again. It hadn’t been working too well.

“Do you have a family? I could help you find them when we’re out of here.” Try to give him hope, perhaps that would warrant a warmer response. Peter glared down at the napkin he was attempting to create a swan origami with, failing miserably at it, not uttering a word in response.

Another day, another try.

“My friend is creating a school for young mutants, you could be one of the first students.” And he had meant it, they hadn’t created a large roster yet. And what kind of newly responsible leader/teacher would he be if he didn’t offer his young cellmate enrollment in such a new and prestigious school? Peter rolled his eyes, more of a response than before anyway. 

Erik was not one to give up.

“I’ve been trying to guess your power, though the only hint I have to go by is your hair. Hm…Ice, perhaps?” Peter scoffed. Ah, but it was something at least. More than Erik had gotten since the first day of his arrival. 

“Ah, not ice then. Water?” Peter looked up with a disgusted expression. Erik gave a light chuckle. 

“This is more difficult than I thought. I would have guessed magnetism perhaps, but that would be pretty rare seeing that it’s my mutation.” It would be extraordinarily improbable, but at least Erik had shared something about himself that would hopefully make Peter feel more comfortable around him.

“I know who you are, Magneto.” Peter drawled out, emphasizing the name. 

Perhaps Erik’s plan had backfired tremendously. Now this child knew he was stuck in a cell with a former terrorist. Great, he had traumatized him even more.

“I won’t hurt you Peter, if that’s what you’re afraid of. I’m sure what you’ve heard or seen about me is nothing good, but I promise I would never harm you or any of our kind.” He said sincerely, hoping it would calm Peter’s nerves.

But Peter didn’t seem to need calming. He studied Erik for a good minute before steadily replying. 

“What if a mutant did hurt you? Would you harm them then?” 

Erik took a moment to process the question. Yes, yes he would. Without a doubt, he would defend himself even from his own kind. He had defended himself from his own kind already. Peter’s question had a deeper meaning to it though, Erik suspected. 

“Did a mutant hurt you, Peter?” Erik asked calmly. He had suspected that was the case, why the boy seemed so defensive of a fellow inmate. Peter’s expression immediately closed off, so much so that even Erik had a hard time reading it.

“You were cooler as Magneto.” Was his only reply to the question.

WEEK TWO

The first week had passed fairly uneventful, for that of an imprisoned mutant ex-terrorist anyway. The second week was mostly the same. The schedule stayed the same, every other day Erik was taken for more blood to be drawn, the only difference was that they had also started injecting him with some unknown substance. It didn’t seem to have any drastic side effects except for extreme fatigue afterwards. Erik had an inkling of what it was, something that Hank had once used on himself, except this seemed to be an altered version of that ‘treatment’. His concerns were warranted when he arrived back to his cell after the first round of injections.

“You look like crap.” 

Erik suppressed a biting insult in response. He hadn’t gotten much out of Peter after the failed attempt of trying to get him to open up and he didn’t want to hinder any progress, especially if it was in the form of insulting the boy back. He held back a grimace as he went to sit down on his small cot on the ground, still down near the left corner of the room. Peter looked like he hadn’t moved the entire time Erik was gone, which had to have been at least an hour. He sat as he always did, in his far right corner at the upper part of the cell. 

Erik often wondered what the boy did to keep himself entertained, what eight year old wouldn’t go crazy from sitting in a roughly fourteen by fourteen foot cell day in and day out, except for the occasional interruption of experimenting. He would sometimes use a small rock to write on the ground with and Erik could have sworn he could hear him mutter numbers while writing. Though he could only fathom why a child that young would be doing math equations to pass the time.

“Well I feel it as much as I look it.” Erik responded, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the cool wall. His head was pounding and his limbs felt heavy, like he had come down with a sudden case of the flu. 

“The first dose really hits you hard. It gets easier to deal with the more often you get it. Until they start upping the dosage again.” Peter replied. Erik’s suspicions were correct. 

“A power suppressant then.” Erik said to himself in confirmation. Peter looked up from what he was doodling or writing on the ground in surprise. 

“Yeah, you guessed it really fast.” He commented. Erik guessed the previous cell mates had not, and again he was curious to know exactly what had happened to Peter to make him so defensive and closed off.

“It is not my first run in with a drug of this effect. Though this seems to be a different variant of it.” He knew the serum that Charles and Hank had once taken didn’t leave them feeling so sluggish and weak. Though Charles' version wasn't originally meant to even suppress his powers, just give him the ability to walk. 

“I’m guessing it’s supposed to have a longer effect, a fail-safe to these power limiters we’re donned with.” Erik mused out loud mostly to himself. It made sense, if something malfunctioned with one or all the limiters then they would have no chance against any of the prisoners. 

“I-yeah, that’s what I think too.” Peter said softly, and turned back to his doodling, effectively ending the conversation. 

The rest of the week did not involve any more injections on his part, but he suspected Peter had experienced another higher level of dosing after arriving back after his round of ‘experimentation’. He had looked ready to drop the second they shoved him in the cell and it took everything in Erik to hold himself back from jolting forward and steadying the child. He managed to stumble to his cot and promptly lay down on it, curling on his side and covering himself with the thin blanket each cot was provided with. He looked miserable, pale and shivering but still staring angrily and blankly ahead. 

He wished he could provide some comfort to Peter, but the boy shut him out every time he had tried. Erik would instead talk, though it was a mostly one sided conversation, but at least it filled the silence. He talked about his family, his mother, father and sister who he had lost so young. He talked about Hank, Raven, Alex, Charles, David…and Magda.

“You have a wife?”  Peter blinked and looked over at Erik for the first time in almost an hour. 

“I do, surprisingly.” Erik chuckled to himself. He wondered daily why Magda had given him another chance at all. Erik continued to tell Peter about her. How amazing and smart she was. A Doctor, given that her power was X-ray vision. The perfect career choice for her power, giving her the ability to detect cancers, tumors, heart defects and so much more. He told him how they had met, right after the liberation of the camps. Their young whirlwind romance, but didn't go into detail in how it had come crashing down, his pursuit of revenge taking over. He left out Anya…their beautiful daughter they had at only twenty years old. He didn’t mention her horrific death, or the toll it took on him and Magda’s relationship. His vengeance wasn't only on those who had murdered his daughter, but also all who had a part in taking away the rest of his family.

“I left to get revenge on all of those who wronged me, I was blinded by vengeance and anger. Magda saw a different future, one where she could help people, both humans and mutants. I couldn’t see the same path as her.” Erik said in a soft tone. Peter looked at him for a moment before commenting.

“But you guys are married now?”

“We are. Married four years ago.” Erik smiled to himself. 

“We finally found ourselves on the same path in life…one I wish I had seen a long time ago.” It took Erik a while, but he was tired of chasing ghosts. When he and Magda had reunited, the love they had before was still there, and stronger than ever. 

“I never heard or read anything about Xavier having a kid.” Peter’s voice interrupted Erik’s train of thought. And that was another thing that had surprised Erik, how knowledgeable Peter was about things that no other child his age usually would even care to know about. He had heard about Erik, which wasn't as surprising given his reputation. But he had also known about the development of the school, having read about it a year ago in a newspaper. Very odd for any eight year old to do for fun or in general.

“He’s about your age. Charles only found out about him a few years ago. He prefers to keep him out of the public knowledge as much as possible.” And he had been very successful at it so far too. David Haller had certainly been a surprise. Gabrielle having never told Charles of his birth or existence after the two had parted ways years ago. He had only found out after her untimely death, a car crash. It had been rough on Charles and David, him sharing the same type of mutation as his father. But they had come a long way in the few years they spent together so far, and Erik was proud of his friend and the father he had become. His own heart clenched at the thought of his only child, Anya. Perhaps he would tell Peter about her in the future. 

“You think you’ll ever see any of them again? Your friends and family?” His question derailed Erik’s train of thought. And he waited a few moments before answering. 

“I do. They are the only family I have left. I have to believe that I will see them all again someday.” And he meant that, for once in his life he wanted to live to see what the future held in store for him. Peter kept looking straight ahead, a contemplative look taking over his face. Erik again wondered about the boy's past. Who was his family? They had to be devastated. Did they even know he was alive?

“Peter…” Erik hesitated before continuing “Your family–or friends” He quickly added, not wanting to make assumptions yet again. “I will help you, when we get out of here. I promise you’ll see them again.” And that was a stupid thing to do, make a promise that every day seemed less likely to come true. Peter’s now angry expression further proved Erik’s suggestion to be the wrong one, again. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep. You don’t know anything. ” And with that he turned away from Erik, now facing the wall. 

Erik let out a quiet frustrated breath, and leaned his head against the wall behind him. Trying to get any personal information from Peter was like chipping away at stone. Except Erik wasn’t getting anywhere with him. 

Hours later, after Erik had fallen asleep rather uncomfortable sitting up, he was awakened by a startled choking gasp. Peter was sitting up in his cot, breathing heavily and gripping his chest. It was rather obvious he was woken from a nightmare. His breaths were quick in succession, looking close to that of an oncoming panic attack. 

“Peter-”

“Please, just stay there. I’m fine. I’m fine. Just don’t move, okay?” Peter interrupted him breathlessly, now successfully starting to slow his breathing. 

“Please. ” He reiterated, taking in a stuttered breath.

To say Erik was concerned would be an understatement. And he now wanted to cause extreme harm to whoever had warranted this reaction from the boy. Because someone had, be it in this cell, facility, or wherever else. This was a clear sign of obvious trauma that had happened to Peter, and Erik had no idea how to help. Except for heeding the boy's request.

“Of course kid, whatever you need. I’m here. Whatever you need, I’m here.” He repeated, because he needed Peter to understand that he wasn’t alone in this, not anymore. 

Peter had gotten his breathing under control now, taking deep measured breaths. He leaned his head against the cool stone wall before replying with a soft almost inaudible “Thank you.” 

Erik nodded, even though Peter wasn’t even looking to acknowledge it. They sat there for hours, in surprisingly not awkward silence until breakfast.

      WEEK THREE

It had been a couple of days since Peter’s nightmare, and there was nothing spoken of it. Erik understood all too well, no stranger to nightmares himself that he’d rather never think about again. Peter had been withdrawn, even more so than usual, which wasn’t saying a lot since his communication with Erik had been close to zero since he had been here. But still, it unnerved Erik that there wasn’t anything he could do to help the boy.

Erik was still taken out of his cell every other day like clock work. Though they had stopped the power suppressing injections completely, going back to just extracting blood. Erik didn’t know what to think about this new development. He voiced this concern to Peter, hoping that it would perhaps strike up another conversation  while also getting him some answers. He had noticed that some of the only times Peter ever conversed willingly with him was when he was able to provide information, namely information that the opposite participant did not know. He enjoyed answering questions and proving he had knowledge on a subject, and Erik was more than happy to oblige in this.

“They’re starting early on with you, it’s usually over a month before they start that process.” Peter answered cryptically, sitting as usual in his corner and was bundled up under his blanket. 

“They stop the dosing before experimenting on powers…normally. Testing to see how you hold up. They gotta be taking extra precautions with you though, mighty Magneto and all.”  He said, though not condescending, surprisingly.

“Hold up?” Erik asked.

Peter nodded before continuing “See how well you hold up against different factors with your powers. Like, if you possess fast healing or something. I think that’s the first test they do on everyone here. First they dope you up, see what the limit is on the suppressing drug so if the collars fail we don’t all reign hell-” Erik smirked “-and once they find that limit, they wean you off of it for a while.”

“Then they remove the collar, and leave you with powers? That seems risky on their part.” Erik added. It didn’t make sense, they would leave someone with all their powers and then experiment on them? Not all mutants held the same level of threat, but for someone with a power like Erik's to be left without any power suppressor or limiter was risky on their part, because he had no hesitation or qualms about tearing this place down the first chance he got.

“They plan ahead for each person. Design and alter the room for each mutant's power, so once they’re in there they can’t even think about escaping. Then afterwards, they dose you up again. I think it’s rotated carefully so there aren’t a lot of mutants without the suppressant drug at one time, just in case if the collars did fail for some reason, then they would know exactly which mutants at that time would be at full power and they’d stop them first.” Peter said, glaring ahead. “They know what they’re doing. And it’s weird that they’re at this stage so quick with you.”

Erik let out a sigh before answering “This isn’t my first experience with being a captive.”

Peter looked up from where he was tearing at the corner of his fraying blanket. 

“You think these are the same people? Or maybe super villain organizations share notes or something?” Erik let out a chuckle at that, and Peter gave a small smile at the sound. And Erik realized that was the first time he had seen a true smile from Peter, it had been small and quick, but it was still an extraordinary sight. 

“I think that could very well be true, both statements actually. To some degree, anyhow. I suspect that they more than likely steal or takeover research from failed and destroyed organizations.” 

Peter nodded to himself, looking down at his blanket. “They usually wait at least until the fifth week with everyone else, to make sure there aren’t any side effects from the suppressor drug, you must be a high priority for them.” Erik wasn’t surprised at that revelation, he had been a target before. But something else that Peter said caught his attention.

“Side effects?”

Peter’s expression hardened and he swallowed before answering “Some hear voices, some see things that aren’t there. Then there are those who are lucky enough to experience both.” 

“Did you experience any of those, Peter?” Erik asked carefully. 

Peter shook his head no. “Nah, I just know others have…” He trailed off, effectively ending the conversation on that subject. 

“Well, I can say with certainty that I’ve not experienced that aspect of the drug.” Erik reassured him. Things were starting to look a little clearer…maybe. Erik suspected that these side effects that some of the mutants experienced might have something to do with Peter’s deep mistrust of any stranger. Perhaps he had an encounter or altercation with a former cellmate. He decided it best not to delve any deeper into the subject at the moment, Peter was very good at letting him know when he was done with a conversation. 

Every time Erik was taken out of his cell that week, he only had the routine blood taken, cementing his suspicion and Peter’s theory was correct. They were preparing him for the next stage of…whatever this all was. And Erik was powerless to stop them. Three weeks, and no sign of help coming or of Erik possibly escaping. Peter was right. They weren’t stupid, they were calculated and confident in their defense systems. There wasn’t anything he could do except attempt hand to hand combat with a guard. But that would fail almost instantly. Everytime Erik was transported anywhere outside his cell, he was immediately donned with power-limiting handcuffs and followed by several guards. It’d be suicide to even try fighting back. For once, he had to put all his faith in other people…his friends, his family. And hope that they had some inkling of where he was.

WEEK FOUR

Erik was angry at himself for not appreciating how easy the first three weeks of his imprisonment were, though he shouldn’t have been surprised. He wasn’t surprised. Thanks to Peter he had some forewarning of what this week would entail. And their assumptions were correct.

They did have a room prepared for him, a suite made specially for the 'mighty Magneto'. And they didn’t leave any room for error. No metal detectable anywhere, not even a tooth filling that Erik could have easily made into a weapon to use. Not to mention the dozen or so guards standing by in case there was an off chance of a mistake in their defenses. They must have taken him underground…or further underground. Erik suspected his cell was already located somewhere under the main building.

He couldn’t be sure this time, since they had put a bag over his head during transport. Even Peter had spared him a empathetic but knowing look when they walked in with the bag. It must be mandatory for everyone before being transported for these new rounds of experiments. Erik had given the boy a small, and what he had hoped seemed reassuring, smile before they slipped it over his head. 

The room was small, white and desolate. Only a handful of guards were able to fit in, but he knew the others were standing and waiting right outside the room. Every instrument and material in the room or nearby contained absolutely no trace of metal whatsoever. It frustrated Erik to no end.

He could feel the power sifting through his veins the moment the collar was removed, and he could do absolutely nothing with it. He was powerless, even with his mutation intact and active. 

Peter was also correct in his conclusion of what they tested for. Healing factors seemed the first and most important test for them. They found out fairly quickly that Erik did not possess any capabilities for that. But not until after thirty minutes of agonizing poking and prodding, and cuts over numerous parts of his body. 

Endurance testing was next, he was in good shape and would normally go running every morning, but he did not possess any extraordinary energy levels for prolonged endurance. He hoped he was severely disappointing them all with his performance so far. 

Lastly they tested his breathing…by dunking and holding him in a tub filled with water. He had actually passed out from that experiment, waking up choking before they shoved the bag and cuffs back onto him and forcefully dragged him outside the room. He could feel a sting in his arm as two guards dragged him towards what he could only guess was the elevator. They must have re-dosed him with a suppressor, he thought to himself.

He lost track of time as they finally entered the corridor that contained his cell, one of the guards ripping the bag off his head and taking off his cuffs before forcefully shoving him into his cell. Erik dropped to his knees, letting out another rough cough and tried to catch his breath. He could already feel the effects of the suppressor they injected him with, only adding to the weakness he already felt from the round of experimenting. 

“Erik?” A soft and surprisingly concerned voice asked from the usually far right corner of the room. 

Erik willed himself to take a deep and steady breath before looking up at Peter’s forlorn face. 

“I’m fine, Peter. Just need to catch my breath.” He reassured the young boy. He took a few minutes to do exactly that before standing up and stumbling over to his own far left corner opposite of Peter’s, sitting down roughly on his cot. He leaned back against the wall, his head now pounding from his ordeals, and closed his eyes. He had only meant to rest them for a moment. He never recalled how fast it took him to effectively pass out.

He had no idea how much time had passed by when he finally regained consciousness. And he had only awakened due to a voice repeatedly calling out his name. 

“Erik. Erik! ” His eyes snapped open at the insistence and tone of Peter's voice calling out his name. His head still hurt, but it wasn’t pounding anymore at least. He sat up slowly on the cot from where he had somehow fallen on his back, and looked towards the direction of where Peter’s voice had called from. He held back his surprise when he saw that the boy was only just a few feet away, setting down a tray of food on the ground. This was the closest Peter had ever been to him.

“Dinner was dropped off a few hours ago, so it’s cold now. But you need to eat before they come to collect the trays…I tried waking you earlier.” He explained as he backed up a few more feet before sitting down on the ground near the center of the room. Erik tried not to let his surprise show. Peter hadn’t retreated back to his corner, instead choosing to stay nearby Erik. Six feet…but still, that was obvious progress. And he had made sure Erik woke up to eat. He felt a sudden flood of warmth and affection for the boy, touched by his thoughtfulness.

“Thank you, Peter.” Erik said softly before slowly reaching over and grabbing the tray containing some cold soup and stale bread. Peter was right, he did need to eat. He needed to gain and maintain any strength possible. Peter observed him for a few moments before speaking again.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly. “ I-I mean, obviously you’re not.” He gestured to Eriks arms, which were covered in cuts. “I just mean…are you going to be? It’s a lot for people to take, the first time anyway. Some can’t take it. Mentally, especially.” Ah, he was worried Erik was possibly going to go off the rails. He smirked internally to himself, he didn’t have to worry about that. Erik had suffered worse than this.

“I’m fine Peter, or I will be. Physically at least. I’m of sound mind too, you don’t have to worry.” He answered, hoping to calm Peter’s nerves.

Peter nodded, looking down at his hands that he was wringing together nervously. “So I guess you don’t possess super fast healing powers, huh?”

Erik laughed softly at that before taking a sip of water and then answering “No, I most certainly do not. Nor do I possess prolonged endurance, or the ability to breathe underwater.” He muttered the last part.

Peter’s brow furrowed “Water? Haven’t experienced that one…yet.” 

“I hope you never do.” Erik said as he finished the rest of his bread. 

“You’re lucky though.” Peter added and Erik looked questioningly at him. 

“How so?” He asked Peter.

“For having no fast healing factor. Means that’ll probably be the last time they’ll try it on you.” Peter answered in a solemn voice. Erik felt a pang of realization from the comment. Peter still hadn’t indulged what his mutant powers were, but Erik had a horrible feeling that a quick healing factor was part of them.

“Peter-”

“I’m tired. I’m gonna sleep now.” Peter interrupted before Erik could even get out his question, and moved back over to his cot in the corner.

He tried not to let his frustration show from Peter’s yet again abrupt ending of the conversation. Erik took a deep breath before continuing.

“You can talk to me.” He said, quickly continuing before Peter could interrupt him again. “I just want you to know that, Peter. I’m here, if you ever want to talk.” He repeated. Peter froze for a moment, before quickly continuing lifting the covers of his cot and crawling under them, turning on his side with his back facing Erik.

“Good night, Erik.” Was his only response.

WEEK FIVE

His suppressant drug doses were regularly administered the next week, ending his current round of power experimentation. When not tormenting the imprisoned mutants with experiments, it was actually quite boring. Though Erik did not dare complain, it was also a time of rest and peace…in a way. As peaceful as one could find locked in a cell. They did not extract anymore blood from Erik, though every time Peter arrived back at the cell his arm bore more marks from regular extractions, his complexion even more of a deathly pale as usual.

Erik left his bread from breakfast that morning on his tray, which he had placed by Peter’s cot after he had been escorted out of the cell that morning. Peter looked at it quizzically before stumbling slightly to his cot, sitting down roughly. He stared at it for a minute, not saying a word.

“I promise it’s not poisoned.” Erik said. Peter finally looked up from the tray and at Erik.

“Why?” Was his only question.

“You need it, Peter. I haven’t had any blood extracted in days, I don’t need the added nutrients. You do.” Simple as that, to Erik anyway. Peter looked back down at the tray, seeming to have an internal debate with himself. This boy, so distrusting of anyone offering help. Erik had never wanted to know a person's backstory as much as he wanted to know Peter’s. 

Peter’s brow furrowed before he slowly reached for the stale piece of bread, finally winning the internal argument with himself that it would be unwise to turn down free offering of food. He took a small bite and chewed slowly before swallowing. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” He said in a quiet voice, before taking another bite.

“I know. I wanted to, though.” Erik replied, settling back against his side of the wall. Peter quickly finished the rest of the bread.

“But why? You think I owe you something now? Because I don’t. You were stupid to give me food before asking for something.” 

Good lord. His good deed of course couldn’t happen without Peter thinking there was an alternative motive. Erik let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair, frustrated yet again. He took a calming breath before replying.

“Peter. I don’t want anything in return, I promise. It was an offering to someone who needed something more than me. That is all. I don’t want to see you suffer, though that is nearly impossible in a place like this. I realize that. But if I can help with that suffering in any way, I will.” 

Peter looked more confused than he ever had in the five weeks Erik had known him. 

“But…you don’t even know me?” He seemed to mutter mostly to himself. Erik smiled.

“I know that you’re probably the most stubborn kid I’ve ever met. And also the smartest. Your knowledge on the inner workings of this place have been accurate and extremely helpful to me. I know you can’t make origami worth a damn.” Peter looked offended at that. “And I know you scribble numbers over there on the ground…though I still don’t know for what reason.” 

Peter stared at Erik, looking stunned for the first time since Erik had met him. He realized that he hadn’t listed much, but it was all Peter had given him in his almost five weeks worth of time spent in this cell. But it was something. Erik wanted him to know that he had been paying attention to the boy.

Peter leaned back against his own wall, pulling his blanket around his shoulders and didn’t say a word for several minutes. Erik feared that was the end of this conversation for the day, but then Peter’s voice broke the silence.

“They’re equations.” He said so softly that Erik almost missed the comment. “What I write on the floor.” He continued. So Erik was right in his earlier assumption weeks ago. Though again, he had no idea why a child Peter’s age would do mathematical equations for fun, even with so little resources.

“Equations. That’s interesting.” Erik said, hoping it seemed convincing. Peter let out a huff, so very close to a laugh.

“You don’t have to lie. I know it’s boring to everyone else.” He shrugged knowingly.

“That doesn’t matter, as long as it’s interesting and fun for you.” Erik replied, reveling in this new information that Peter had given up about himself.

“I like math, it helps me focus…makes me forget everything else around me…for a while.” Peter mumbled the last part. Erik nodded in understanding. 

“I’m glad you have that then.” Then he added “We’re planning on having an excellent math program when we open the school, I’m sure you’d enjoy it.”

Peter looked back up to him, his brow furrowed. “Why do you keep doing that? Saying ‘when’ we get out of here? You have no idea if we ever will…” 

Erik gave a small smile before replying. “I told you. I have to believe that I will see my family and friends again. See my wife again. And I promise you that I will help you find your family.” 

Peter frowned and glared down at his hands. “Don’t have to worry about that.” Erik berated himself silently, he shouldn’t have pushed him so hard to share with him again. 

“Peter-”

“I don’t wanna talk about it, okay? Just leave it.” He all but begged. Erik let out a silent sigh.

“Of course, Peter.” 

Silence followed for nearly ten minutes before Peter surprisingly spoke up again.

“I also like reading… a lot. ” He muttered almost shyly. Erik let a wide grin take over his face.

“Me too. What are your favorites?”

And Peter told him.

WEEK SIX

Erik counted the past week as a success in gaining at least some of Peter’s trust. He confided in him with his interests. He still hadn’t found out who or if he had any family, or even what his power was. But he didn’t care, this was still tremendous progress. Though with the amount of book titles Peter listed off Erik wondered if it was all a hundred percent truthful. That was a godly amount of books for a child his age to have read in his short lifetime, not to mention many of the titles seemed far advanced for his age group. But Erik also knew that he was by no means an ordinary child, most likely even before this horrific experience.

Peter was extraordinarily intelligent and mature for his age, and Erik had a feeling he already had been before his imprisonment. He didn’t know if that was a good or bad sign, but he feared the worst due to the way Peter never talked about his past at all.

Erik’s sixth week of imprisonment started out as what had now become the relative normal. The first day he was taken for more blood drawn and the usual injections. It was all becoming horribly tedious and repetitive. Erik would regret taking those feelings for granted by the end of next week.

The second day, after Peter had gotten back from his round of extractions and injections, things would take a huge turn from the normal routine that both cellmates had gotten used to during the past six weeks. 

They had a new cellmate.

The door opened, hours after Peter had gotten back. Not routine at all. Usually after either one was dropped off, the door never opened again until the next day. The only sign of life from outside the cell was the meal tray slot being opened. So when the door had opened that day, both Erik and Peter immediately took to their feet. Neither dared to move toward the door. The guards were very adamant about each prisoner staying put and making no sudden movements whatsoever until they were securely handcuffed and ready for transport.

They walked in with a man. He seemed almost middle aged, a little rough looking. Made sense after just being captured. The guards unlocked his cuffs before shoving him into the center of the room, leaving just as quickly as they had arrived, without a word. Everyone stood frozen in silence for a moment, Peter in his upper right corner, Erik in his lower left one, and the new cellmate standing in the center of the room. 

Peter looked on edge, more so than usual. The man looked around the small cell, taking in his surroundings and his gaze zeroed in on the cot located in the center of the remaining unclaimed wall nearest Peter.

Peter noticed this and looked over at Erik, panic in his eyes. Erik immediately understood.

“That one is currently occupied, I’m afraid.” Erik said casually as he quickly walked over to the unused cot. The man gave him a strange look, but shrugged before walking to Erik’s previously occupied cot, dragging it from the corner to the center of the left wall. Erik was just glad the man didn’t put up an argument. 

Peter looked over at Erik, relief and gratitude gracing his features. Erik gave him a nod and a small smile before moving his cot slightly toward the opposite corner of Peter’s, wanting to give the boy the space he knew he preferred. Everyone settled in their new spots, an eerie silence filling the room.

“I’m Ian, by the way.” The man finally spoke. “The hell is a person around here supposed to do for some food. Or is that a form of torture around here too?” He had a  southern accent.

“I’m Erik, and his name is Peter.” Erik introduced himself and Peter, feeling the boy wouldn't want to converse with Ian anytime soon. Glancing over at Peter, his body language was already extremely closed off again. He sat in his corner with his knees pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped around them, staring the new cellmate down.

“Nice to meet ya’ll. Been here long? They got me at a damn traffic stop believe it or not. Thought I was gonna go in for a DUI, who woulda guessed this shit?” Ian scoffed to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. 

No, Erik did not like this man.

“I’ve been here for a few weeks.” Was all Erik replied, not giving anymore details. This man didn’t need to know anymore than that, or that Erik had been here double that time. Ian nodded before gesturing toward Peter with his head. 

“How ‘bout the kid?” More silence. Ian looked back and forth between Erik and Peter before speaking again. “He a mute or something?” 

Peter glared at him, but still didn’t say anything. 

“No, he’s just selective on who he talks to.” Erik explained, trying very hard not to get short with the man. Ian held his hands up in a giving up gesture. “Alright, I get it.”

The conversation for the night ended there. Erik made sure he was the last to fall asleep, it didn’t hurt to be a little overly cautious. 

The first night went on uneventful, and Ian was taken out of the cell shortly after breakfast, most likely getting his first dosing experience with the suppressants. This gave time for Erik and Peter to discuss their new cellmate, a conversation Peter did not hesitate in starting.

“I don’t like him.” Were the first words out of his mouth the second the cell door slammed shut. Erik almost wanted to laugh at the comment. Did Peter even like Erik? He must have, or at least tolerate or have some trust in him now. Or perhaps he was the one adult now in this cell that Peter knew at all and that alone took priority in who he tolerated more. No, Erik didn’t believe that. Peter had opened up to him in the past week more than he had in all the weeks before that, it had to be for a reason. 

And Erik did not disagree with Peter’s assessment about the man. He too did not get a good feeling from him either.

“I agree. But we don’t know much about him yet, or how long he’s going to be in here.” Erik reasoned. Best not to make enemies with your cellmates right off the bat, no matter how off they seemed. Peter scowled.

“I know he’s a drunk.” He mumbled, resting his chin on his knees. Erik couldn’t argue with that. He also wanted to know if there was an average time each person was roomed in the same cell as another, or did that also alternate? Peter seemed to have been in this same one for his entire six months. Or not. Erik could easily be wrong about that assumption as well, Peter had never specified or gone into detail about where he was located in the facility during his six months of captivity. Erik decided now was as good of a time as any to bring it up.

“Peter, have you been alone in this cell the entire six months? Or did you have previous cellmates?” This could so very easily backfire.

Peter did not answer straight away, Erik had anticipated this. After several moments of silence he finally spoke.

“There were two others, separate times though.” He said in a soft voice. “One was here for two weeks, the other for five days.” He didn’t elaborate, and Erik didn’t push him. If he wanted to give more details, then he would let him do so on his own time. Erik just nodded to acknowledge that he heard.

“I want you to tell me if he says or does anything while I’m out of this cell.” Erik said. Peter lifted his head off of his knees and turned his head toward Erik, giving him his full attention. 

“Do you understand, Peter? Anything he says, or anything you notice out of the ordinary, you tell me.” Erik did not trust this man, and Peter would eventually be left alone with him.

“Yeah…yeah I will.” Peter nodded. 

The next couple of days were also uneventful, thankfully. The day came for Erik’s turn for his next dosing, and he sent a meaningful look toward Peter before leaving out the door. The boy looked slightly nervous but still gave him a confident nod back. Thankfully the trip was relatively quick.

When Erik arrived back in the cell, everything seemed normal. Peter was scribbling away on the ground, what Erik guessed were his usual equations. And Ian seemed to be sleeping, sitting up against the wall. Having to experience the first week of dosing, the man seemed irritated and tired. A feeling that Erik could not blame him for.

Erik glanced over at Peter, who finally looked up from his writing. He gestured toward Ian with a nod, silently asking if anything had happened while he was gone. Peter gave a shrug and a shake of his head, indicating that no, nothing of importance happened. Erik let out a relieved breath before sitting back against his wall. Perhaps this newcomer wasn’t all that bad.

  WEEK SEVEN

Week two with the newly added cellmate was not going as smoothly as week one, Erik concluded to himself. Ian was getting antsy, and more irritated by the day. This didn’t surprise Erik, since he too had experienced similar feelings…though not as obvious as the other man. This did not help his or Peter’s nerves though, the latter sending frequent concerned glances toward Erik’s direction. 

These feelings escalated on day three of the week, when Ian started mumbling to himself, wringing his hands together and gesturing with them. Erik could have sworn he saw Peter shift his cot a little closer to his own. Ian’s rambings didn’t seem to make much sense. 

“Gotta give them what they want, that’s all. Simple as that. Give them what they want.” He muttered quickly.

Give them what? More blood, perhaps? God only knew if the man was even aware of what he himself was saying. Peter had mentioned that some people heard voices and started hallucinating sometimes, and Erik could see that was exactly what was happening. He guessed this was a common side-effect some people had to the suppressant, perhaps the higher level the dose was for some people the worse it got. 

“Ian, you need to calm yourself. Do not let them take control of your mind. It’s a side-effect of the drug, that’s all.” Erik tried reasoning with him one day, when Peter had left for his round of extractions and injections. 

“They are control! It’ll stop, only when we give them what they want!” He repeated again. 

Well, that approach had failed. Perhaps when they started lowering the dosage again he would calm down and gain clarity, Erik hoped.

But still, Erik did not want to take any chances, again staying up until Ian had fallen into a fitful sleep. Peter laid curled up under his own blanket.

Peter had been on edge all week, and had barely spoken a word unless Ian was out of the room. It had been the most silent week since Erik’s first one here, except for Ian’s occasional belligerent rambings. He wished he could comfort and reassure Peter that there was nothing to worry about. But how could he? He couldn’t promise anything, he knew that. And Peter knew it too. It was foolish of him to give him a false sense of safety and security, especially when Erik was not in the cell with him.

Erik had meant to stay up longer, just to be on the safe side. But his latest dosage was earlier that day and a deep sleep eventually overtook him. He dreamt of Magda, of the home they shared for a short time in Ukraine. Of Anya…sweet, beautiful Anya. He dreamt of the most peaceful year of his life with the two people he loved more than anything. His life had never known such peace, before or after that year.

His dream slowly faded, as they almost always did, into a nightmare. A memory, but a nightmare nonetheless. Back to that fateful night, of him and Magda returning from dinner together to their home where they had left Anya with their elderly neighbor to watch her. Back to their burning home, set ablaze by an angry and bigoted mob. Magda’s screams echoing in the night as Erik held her back from running into the flames.

Her screams were the worst part, so full of anguish and pain then tapering off into helpless sobs as Erik held her. Every time the nightmare was the same. Except this one. This one was different. Her screams were there, but they were suddenly cut off, silenced, then choked. A loud bang sounded off in the background. Erik suddenly awoke with a start, taking in a deep breath and sitting up quickly. Something was horribly wrong, he sensed before he could even properly focus.

It did not take him long to pinpoint the disturbance, he barely had time to register what he was seeing before red overtook his vision. There was Ian, only eight feet or so away from Erik, holding Peter up by his throat against the wall. 

No, not simply holding. Strangling.

“You’re what they want!” He was mumbling over and over again, seemingly in a manic haze. “Give them what they want, that’s how they stop!”

Peter couldn’t defend himself, but he was desperately trying. Clawing at the man's arms with everything he had, and choking to get an impossible breath. 

It took no time for Erik to step into action once he woke up, jumping to his feet and sprinting the short distance to the mad man. He immediately grabbed Ian’s wrist with all his might, hearing a snap as he did so. The man let out a scream and dropped Peter to the ground, who quickly moved away from the scene, crawling backwards and taking in deep stuttered breaths while holding his throat. 

Erik did not let up or stop to check on the boy, anger and fury taking over. He slammed Ian into the wall, pinning the man's own throat with his forearm and effectively cutting off his air supply. The man was turning blue, now clawing at Erik’s own arms in an attempt to shove him away.

Erik did not budge, did not hesitate as he continued to drain the man's life from his body. It was complete tunnel vision, nothing outside of this task was important. This man had tried to kill a child. It was unforgivable.

He didn’t even hear the cell door slam open, or sense the bodies headed his way. The only thing that finally pulled his attention away from his revenge was several hands pulling him roughly away from Ian. Erik was breathing deeply as they shoved him down onto his knees. The ringing in his ears slowly let up and he could hear shouting. He finally pulled his attention away from Ian, who was now being dragged out of the cell. He looked to be alive, unfortunately. 

“-the fuck are we supposed to write this up? I hate this shit, the paperwork is a pain in the ass.” Erik heard a guard tell another. Of course they were only concerned about themselves.

“Second time man, it’s getting ridiculous.” Another guard nudged Erik with the tip of his rifle. 

“Hey! You listening? Pull that shit again and you’re getting your ass sedated.” Erik barely registered what he was saying as he stared defiantly forward, his gaze focused on the spot where he had Ian pinned.

He finally turned his head and met the eyes of the guard talking to him.

“Put him in this cell again-” Erik started in a steady and controlled voice “-and I will kill him.”

The guard looked taken aback by the cold comment, but did not directly respond to Erik. He turned to the other guard who was still in the room. 

“Come on J, we need to get this sorted.” He nodded his head toward the cell door, the other guard put up no argument as he obeyed the order, seeming to be glad not to have to deal with Erik any longer than he had to. 

The guard who had given the order turned back to Erik. “I said it already but I’ll say it one more time, pull a stunt like that again and you’ll get sedated, or get permanently transferred out of this cell.” The guard turned his gaze towards Peter, who was cowered in the corner of the room but looking a little calmer now. Erik felt a jolt of fear shoot through him at the threat, leaving Peter alone scared the shit out of him, that was the worst threat the guard could have made and he knew it too.

“Don’t put murderous psychopaths in here and you won’t have an issue with me.” Erik replied, steadily meeting the guards' eyes. 

The guard let out a huff, in what perhaps could be interpreted as reluctant agreement before he turned and walked out of the room, not saying another word. The cell door slammed shut, the locks sounding after.

Erik took a deep calming breath, then remembered Peter. Gods, Peter who had just witnessed him trying to murder another man. Maybe he should have asked to be relocated, the kid was probably terrified of him now. Erik didn’t mean to lose control like that, but his instincts and emotions took over. Would Peter even understand that? Would he understand that Erik was protecting him? He needed to talk to the boy, explain to him calmly that he wasn’t a threat to him, that he cared about his safety and well being even though he lost control doing so. Erik, still on his knees, swallowed before speaking.

“Peter-”

He barely got his name out or turned fully toward the boy before he felt the small body collide with his, Peter’s arms making their way around Erik’s neck and his forehead clashing roughly against his shoulder. He clung tightly to Erik, his body shaking slightly. 

To say Erik was shocked would be an understatement. He had anticipated many reactions from the boy, but this was not one of them. Peter was hugging him. Voluntarily making contact with him for the first time in seven weeks. Peter’s body was still shaking, and Erik thought for a horrified moment it was because he was afraid of him. He realized quickly that wasn’t the case as he felt his shoulder wetting from Peter’s silent tears. 

He was scared. But not of Erik.

Erik finally raised his own arms and slowly brought them around Peter, loosely holding him so as not to startle the already traumatized boy. Peter tightened his grip around Erik’s neck in response, silently letting him know that it was okay and he wasn’t afraid. Erik moved his hand to the back of Peter’s head and the other around his shoulder, holding him a little tighter.

“Thank you” He could barely hear Peter’s whisper, the boy repeating it several times. He was thanking Erik? He didn’t deserve his thanks…he had failed him. He had let it happen mere feet away from where he was sleeping. And still he was thanking him. Erik closed his eyes tightly before running a hand through Peter’s hair. 

“I’m sorry, Peter. I’m so so sorry.” Erik spoke softly, continuing to hug him tightly. Minutes went by, Erik did not know how many, as they both sat there in the center of the cell clinging to one another. Finally Peter pulled away slightly, Erik loosened his hold on him.

His face was red and wet as he went to wipe his eyes with his arm, and he took a deep shaky breath in before speaking.

“Wasn’t your fault.” He muttered, moving his gaze up to meet Erik's.

Erik shook his head in disagreement.

“It shouldn’t have happened, I should have protected you. I failed you, Peter.” Erik admitted solemnly. Peter rolled his eyes before replying. 

“You can’t stay awake twenty-four seven Erik, that’s just dumb.” He gave him a forced smile. “Besides, I’m okay.” He continued in a light wavering voice. Erik gave a weak smile of his own in return.

“You’re not, kid.” He said as he very lightly brushed Peter’s neck above his collar, where there was the beginning of a bruise starting to form. Peter didn’t even flinch, but he lowered his gaze to the ground again before lightly shrugging.

“Okay, I’m not.” He admitted, then raised his eyes back up to meet Erik’s. “But I will be.” He gave a confident nod.

Erik gave a stronger smile this time. 

“Yes, you will be.”

WEEK EIGHT

Nearly two months now, two months since Erik had been imprisoned. Almost all his life Erik had thought he was cursed, who wouldn’t think that after all the tragedies he had endured. Magda had a different outlook. She had said everything that happened was fate, that everything they had gone through was for a reason. Erik never believed in her more hopeful outlook, finding it cruel that fate had the worst in store for them. That everything had happened exactly how it did for some unknown reason. He never believed it…until now. 

Since the near murder attempts last week, it was like a flood gate had opened with Peter. He had absolutely no qualms about being in close contact with Erik anymore, even asking Erik if he could move his cot closer to Peter’s own in his corner. Erik of course agreed immediately. He seemed to trust him completely now.

Erik fully believed now that perhaps it was fate that brought him here. To help this boy. Even though he felt hopeless in doing so almost every day. He had no plans of escape without risking his and Peter's life. He now had to solely rely on his friends and family to find them eventually, but even that was looking bleak after eight weeks here. 

What wasn’t bleak was Peter’s mood, surprisingly, especially given the horrific week he had just been through. He was so much more talkative and light hearted than he was before. Perhaps having someone he finally trusted nearby made him feel safe to do so. He was currently explaining math probabilities and statistics to Erik…in great detail. Yes, he was completely convinced now that this kid was a damn genius.

“-and so probability just deals with predicting the likelihood of future events, while statistics on the other hand involves the analysis of the frequency of past events! Probability is almost all theoretical though, cuz obviously you can’t see the future, you can only just study the consequences of mathematical definitions!” Peter continued to explain animatedly as he continued to scribble down equations. “And these are the basic formulas in statistics, wanna try?” Peter offered him a rock. Erik really, really did not. But the boy's enthusiasm was an amazing sight to see.

“I’m afraid I would only embarrass myself. You’re very knowledgeable in this subject, it almost seems like it's straight out of a book.” Erik commented with a smile. Peter shrugged before continuing.

“I mean, yeah. That’s because it is. Almost anyway, I ad-libbed a little.” He said nonchalantly. 

“What?” Erik asked dumbly. He was only joking about it being straight out of a book. Peter gave an annoyed huff before speaking again.

“Ad-libbed, like improvising.” He explained.

“No, no. Not that. The straight out of a book part.” Erik said with a wave of his hand. Peter looked up.

“Oh yeah, I remember things. Like, everything. I have an eidetic memory.” He said it like it was a completely normal thing that everyone had. Okay…that actually explained a lot, Erik concluded. Especially the extreme detail of all his favorite books. Though it didn’t explain the amount of books he had listed he read.

“Peter, that’s amazing.” Erik praised him, causing Peter to blush slightly and shrug his shoulders again. 

“Not really.” He mumbled, but was trying to hold back a smile. “So you don’t wanna do math equations to pass the time?” He continued, full on smiling now. Erik matched his smile.

“I’m afraid you’d put me to shame, kid.” Peter gave a deep exaggerated breath.

“So what do you do for fun? Other than hunting Nazi’s and building schools?” Erik gave a laugh before replying.

“I only do one of those things now, and when I’m not working on the school I enjoy a good game of chess.” Ah chess, he did so miss playing with his dear friend. Peter set his writing utensil down.

“Chess? That’s the most old person answer you could have given, Erik.” Peter deadpanned.

Now it was Erik’s turn to roll his eyes. “It’s a game that requires great focus, and strategy. Have you ever even tried to play it?” He asked lightly.

Peter shook his head. “No, because it’s for old people.” 

“Games have no age brackets, Peter.” Erik said with a soft chuckle. Peter seemed to consider this for a second before speaking again.

“Okay then, teach me.” Ah, that would be a little difficult in these conditions. 

“We’re going to have to get a bit creative then.” Erik said and Peter nodded in agreement, taking a glance around the room.

“Well, we can draw the board!” He held up a rock. “Hm…and we can shape these into chess pieces.” Peter grabbed a couple of napkins left over from breakfast. Erik gave a smile at his quick creativity. 

“Alright, we still need to differentiate the pieces though.” Peter hummed in agreement before his gaze landed on his blanket. 

“This’ll work!” He grabbed it, and started to pull some single threads from the frayed edge of it. “Just tie these around the other half.” Erik was not at all surprised by his ingenuity. 

They got to work on tearing up the napkins and trying to shape them into playable pieces, while making them as close to the actual shape of the real game pieces as possible. Erik was having better luck.

“Ah…finally something you aren’t an expert at.” He jokingly chided, and Peter huffed in fake annoyance.

“Art isn’t my thing!” He whined, then gave a light smile at Erik. “I’ll tie the strings.” He volunteered, giving Erik the rest of his napkin pieces which he accepted without argument. 

Finally they had a roughly drawn chess board on the ground and their makeshift pieces. Not perfect, but it would work. Erik went into great detail in explaining the rules of the game, which Peter paid close attention to. 

They started the game, Peter getting frustrated an hour in. “This is harder than I thought it would be…” He complained, but made his move. Erik gave a smile while studying the board.

“You’re doing extraordinarily well Peter, especially for your first time.” And that wasn’t at all a lie. An eight year old playing chess for the first time ever was holding his own against Erik, a fairly well seasoned player himself for a lot longer. He’d be embarrassed if he wasn’t so proud of the boy. 

Finally, and thankfully for Erik’s own self worth, he called checkmate on Peter. 

“Ah man! I should've seen that…” Peter shook his head with a smile. “But that was fun.” He admitted. “We can play again sometime, right?” He asked hopefully. Erik’s heart broke a little. Who knew the last time this boy had played a game with someone else. 

“Of course we will.” Erik promised him. Peter gave a happy nod before setting up the chessboard again, now starting a game against himself. Erik had a fleeting fear that this might be the only game he’d win against Peter. But he didn’t care. Seeing him so lighthearted and acting like an actual child was victory enough for him.

“Didn’t get to play many board games before.” Peter’s voice interrupted Erik’s thoughts. Erk turned his attention back to him. 

“Is that so? Did your family not play any at all?” Erik asked carefully, bringing up family was never a good subject around Peter. But he didn’t shut down this time, or stop the conversation. The boy gave a small sigh before looking up from the makeshift chess board and looking at Erik.

“I don’t have a family.” He stated bluntly. Erik had feared this was a possibility.

“I’m sorry.” Was all he could say, what more could he?

Peter shrugged before moving one of the knights on the board. “It’s okay, not like I ever knew them. Birth mother left me at a literal doorstep of an orphanage.” Peter gave a bitter laugh. “Thought that only happened in books and movies.” So an orphan from the beginning then? At least he didn’t have to suffer the loss of someone he knew, Erik thought morbidly.

“You had foster families though?” Erik guessed, and Peter frowned down at the ground. Erik thought maybe he had pushed too far with that question.

“Wouldn’t consider them families…they just get paid to watch the freak mutants.” Peter scowled before continuing. “You know they get paid more for taking care of mutant kids? They just shove as many as they can in a house, the more the better! For them anyway.” 

Erik did not know this actually, and he hated himself that he didn’t. He was so focused on bringing down labs and individuals that he never even thought to consider what their own government was doing so called ‘legally’. He vowed to himself that if he ever got out of here he would find a way to change the process.

“I’m sorry, Peter.” Erik said truthfully, before choosing his next words carefully. “You have a home at the mansion, if you so choose.” Erik was already going over plans in his head on what that would entail, the ‘legal’ process be damned. And if it was so necessary then so be it, either way this child was not going back into that abomination of a system. Peter looked at him in surprise. “Really?” 

Erik’s heart broke a little by the boy's surprise. “Yes, I promise you that you will have a home there, a place where you will be accepted.” Peter gave a smile at that statement before replying in a soft voice. 

“The way you talk about that place, it sounds almost too good to be true.” 

He was hesitant to believe it was possible, Erik could see the doubt in his eyes. He could not blame him, especially given the situation they were currently in. It all probably seemed like a fairytale to him, and perhaps it was. They were all empty promises until they were actually outside of these walls. But Erik had to keep hope alive for him, especially if they were to get separated. The thought sent a jolt of panic through Erik. It was a very realistic possibility, and he decided they needed a plan. 

“Peter.” Erik started in a quiet voice, almost whispering. Peter moved closer to him in order to hear. “I need you to listen to me carefully. If you ever find yourself a chance to escape without harm, I need you to head straight to the school.” Peter furrowed his brows. 

“You mean ‘we’, right? We’ll head to the school…together.”  Erik gave a small smile.

“In the perfect scenario, yes. But if we are separated and you have the chance, I need to you to go alone-”

“That’s stupid! ” Peter whispered angrily, interrupting Erik. “I’m not just gonna leave you, even if this impossible scenario were to happen. You saved me! So I gotta save you back!” He was thankfully still whispering. Erik gave a sigh, though touched by the boy’s sense of loyalty, he needed him to understand the consequences of not acting straight away.

“I appreciate that, Peter. But you need to understand that if you did try that then the possibility of you getting caught again is too high. I know you understand that. I’m sure you could do an equation right now that would prove my theory correct.” And he had him there, Erik thought as he watched Peter frown. 

“But…it just feels wrong.” He said as he fumbled around aimlessly with a makeshift Knight piece. “You know the probability of this whole ‘one of us escaping’ scenario is insanely unlikely anyway, right? Why even have this conversation?” He complained. 

“Always have a back-up plan, I’ve learned that the hard way.” That was unfortunately very true for Erik. “Now remember this address: 1407 Graymalkin Lake, Westchester County, New York. Repeat it for me.” 

“I have an eidetic memory.” Peter mumbled grumpily.

Erik let out another sigh. “Humor me.” 

Peter rolled his eyes and repeated the address. Erik nodded, satisfied. 

“Anyone there will help you without hesitation. Thank you, Peter…I know it might seem unlikely, but no matter what, I want you to remember that you will be welcome there.” Erik hoped that Peter would someday have a chance to see how true that was. Magda would be fascinated by him, Erik thought to himself with a sad smile.

Peter looked down at the makeshift chess board.

“I’ll remember…I always do.”

WEEK NINE

Things stayed normal for a week, or as normal as possible for Erik and Peter’s situation. Peter opened up more, and Erik had more of an insight as ever to his past. The boy was still obviously hiding some things from him, but Erik couldn’t hold it against him. It hurt that it took him saving Peter from a near death experience for him to finally open up to him, but he was still thankful that he trusted him enough at all to try.

Erik’s sessions stayed the same, every other day he was taken for his usual blood extractions and suppressor dosing. He figured it would be a while before his next round of experimentations, perhaps they were thinking up some new scenarios. Peter on the other hand, didn’t seem so lucky.

“They stopped the injections completely.” He said grimly one day at the beginning of the week after returning back to the cell. He sat down on his cot next to Erik’s, pulling his knees up to his chest.

Erik frowned, he shouldn’t have been surprised though. Nine weeks he had been here and Peter hadn’t gone through anything other than the usual blood extractions and injections. Peter had obviously gone through the experiments before, but it did not help quell Erik’s fear for him at all. 

“I’m sorry, Peter.” And gods was he tired of saying that line over and over. He wished he could stop this, tear this boy away from all this madness and pain. It wasn’t right, none of this was right. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. 

“-ello? Erik?” Peter’s voice tore Erik from his angry thoughts. He looked down and noticed he had his hands clenched in a fist, he willed himself to calm down and took a deep breath, relaxing his hands. 

“Are you okay?” Peter asked, looking at Erik’s hands in concern. Erik cursed himself, now he had worried Peter. He shouldn’t be worrying about Erik when he was the one about to go through hell. Erik took another breath.

“Yes, I’m fine.” He turned to Peter and offered him a reassuring smile, he got another small one in return before Peter spoke again.

“I’ll be okay! I always am.” His smile wavered a little and Erik grabbed the boy's small hand, giving it a squeeze.

“I know you are.” He replied warmly, turning to meet the boy's gaze, keeping his smile.

The next few days went on as normal, Peter not even being taken out of the cell at all on the days he normally would have. He looked healthier than Erik had ever seen him, having more color to his cheeks and face without the weekly blood extractions. He knew it would not last, and was proven correct the next day.

The cell door opened with the usual guards, this time holding a bag. Erik and Peter knew immediately, the latter standing up and offering a reassuring and confident smile to Erik before being escorted out of the cell, the door slamming shut. 

Erik’s heart froze in fear and anger for Peter. This feeling was near unbearable, not knowing what atrocities were being done to him. ‘ Perhaps they won’t be too bad?’ Erik thought to himself. Peter had already been through this before, surely they had already done the worst.

But he didn’t even know his power, Peter still hadn’t revealed that to Erik. And he didn’t push him. It didn’t seem important, in the grand scheme of things. His power didn’t define him, it didn’t define anybody. Erik used to think it did, for mutants anyway. But the past few years had changed that view too, with Magda’s and Charles' influence and ideals having a great part in doing so. 

But it was important to these people. It was all that mattered to them. Erik hated them more at that moment than he had ever hated anyone else. How dare they? How dare they take a young defenseless child and experiment on them for the sole purpose of their own gain and profit.

Erik didn’t even realize he was pacing around the room until about three hours had passed. Three hours? That was longer than Erik had been gone for his round, and he knew it wasn’t a good sign.

He knew this for certain when six hours had passed. He hadn’t sat down the entire time, every scenario having now run through his mind several times over, his hair disheveled from the amount of times he had run his hands through it in frustration. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, the cell door opened. He quickly went to the wall farthest from the door, the usual position taken whenever the door opened.

The guards dragged in a soaking wet and shivering Peter, dropping him in the center of the room and promptly leaving with the bag. 

Peter was holding his left arm and doubled over on the ground, still on his knees and roughly coughing. He tried to catch his breath, but was failing to do so. 

Erik quickly walked over to him, kneeling down in front of the boy and gripped his shoulders. 

“Peter. Peter, look at me.” He gently grabbed his chin and tilted his face up. Peter was having a panic attack, Erik quickly realized. His panicked eyes met Erik’s as he again tried to breath in too quickly, not getting enough air.

“Deep breaths, Peter. Deep breaths.” Erik instructed him gently, grabbing one of his hands and placing it against his own chest. 

“Match my breathing. There you go.” He took a few deep breaths, continuing until Peter finally matched him with stuttered breaths of his own. “That’s it, good job.” He praised softly. 

Peter’s breathing finally slowed to a normal rhythm as they both stayed kneeling in the center of the cell. Peter finally raised his eyes up to meet Erik’s again, tears welling up quickly in them as he took in another stuttered breath. 

“I don’t wanna be here anymore.” He whispered brokenly. “I don’t wanna be here, Erik.” He repeated before he threw himself forward into Erik’s chest, wrapping his right arm as far around him as possible, but keeping his left one held to his chest. 

Erik immediately wrapped his own arms around the quivering and now crying boy, noticing just how freezing cold he was. “I know, Peter. I know.” He whispered to him, gently picking him up and carrying him over to their two cots that sat side by side. He sat down with Peter, still holding onto him, and grabbed both blankets before promptly wrapping them around the boy as he continued to cry into his chest. 

Peter cried silently, but his body still shook with the quiet held back sobs. Erik didn’t say anything, he could have told him it was ‘going to be okay’ or ‘you’re safe now’. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell him something that just wasn’t true or possible. Because he wasn’t either of those things, and wouldn’t be as long as he was imprisoned here. So Erik held him, and rocked him gently back and forth, letting him know that he was there. For whatever he needed Erik for, he was there for him.

Finally Peter calmed enough to pull his face away from Erik’s chest, taking a steadying breath and shifting his left arm, wincing lightly while doing so.

“Peter…your arm..?” Erik didn’t want to pressure him, but he also needed to know if he was okay physically. If there was anything he could do to help lessen the pain. 

“It’s fine…or will be. In a few hours probably.” Peter said in a quiet almost disassociated voice. “They didn’t give it enough time.” Erik was afraid to ask, but he did so anyway.

“Enough time for what?” He whispered back.

Peter stared straight forward staring at the opposite wall, still leaning his head against Erik’s chest. “They broke it.” He said absently. “Just a hairline fracture…but still, didn’t have enough time to heal completely.”  

Erik swallowed down his fury, and controlled his own breathing, trying to find calm. That’s why his session was so much longer than Erik’s, to test his healing time. And still they couldn’t find the decency to wait long enough for him to heal completely before dosing him up again. And the water…they must have subjected him to the same experiment as Erik.

“They threw me into a pool.” Peter continued, confirming and worsening Erik’s suspicion. A pool?

“Wanna know a fun fact?” Erik had a feeling there was going to be nothing fun about it. 

“I can’t swim.” Peter laughed a bit hysterically before tapering off into stuttered sobs again. And how could Erik possibly respond to that? Just this session alone was enough to drive a normal adult mad.

Erik didn’t say anything else, no words of comfort or false assurances. Instead he just ran his hand through Peter’s hair absently as he cried, his other arm wrapped around the boy lightly as he gently rested his chin on Peter’s now damp hair. That was how they stayed all night, even after sleep had finally overcome Peter.

Chapter Text

ERIK II

WEEK TEN

The last week had obviously taken its toll on Peter, who was understandably withdrawn since then. He didn’t write, or talk much. He mostly wanted to sleep, and Erik understood. He could have pushed him to talk about it, but knew that would push him away more. So he let him be, but offered his support however he needed it. 

Peter wasn’t afraid or hesitant of him though, much to Erik’s relief. At least the trauma hadn’t reverted him back to being afraid of Erik. He stayed curled up next to him every night, sometimes with Erik waking up to the boy's fist gripping his shirt sleeve. He was happy to at least provide some comfort to the boy.

Their schedules went back to normal, every other day each one of them being taken for the usual extractions and injections. Erik prayed that it would stay that way for the prolonged future, at least for Peter. The days seemed to move even slower now, perhaps because of the solemn mood. Near the middle of the week was when Erik had finally made some progress of pulling Peter slowly out of his shell by asking if he wanted to play a game of chess, to which Peter reluctantly agreed.

The game went on in silence for the first twenty minutes before Peter suddenly broke it with the most unpredictable comment that Erik could have ever guessed. 

“My power is speed, by the way.” He mentioned so casually that Erik had to do a double take. 

“What?” Erik deadpanned. Peter looked up from the chess board, with an almost annoyed look on his face. 

“Speed, I’m fast. That’s my mutant power.” He said slowly as if he were talking to a small child. Erik took a deep breath before replying. 

“I-yes, I heard you. Why are you telling me this now?” This child baffled him like no other. Peter shrugged lightly before looking down again. 

“I just…I just realized I never told you. And that you’ve probably been wondering, after the very first week when you asked me. But you never asked again, and I guess I just…” He broke off. “I guess I just wanted you to know something else about me.” He finished in a soft voice. 

“That’s an amazing power, Peter.” Erik said truthfully. And it all made sense now. His memory and ability to retain so much information at such a young age. The amount of books he listed, Erik recalled to himself with a small smile. He felt honored that Peter had finally felt comfortable enough to indulge him in this fact. 

It also explained his fast healing factor when not suppressed, an ability that was extraordinary and incredibly useful, except when imprisoned in an experimental lab focused on harnessing and possibly manipulating mutant powers for their own intent and purposes.

“Thanks…it’s pretty awesome, most of the time anyway.” Peter said with a slight frown. “In here it feels like a curse.” 

Erik clenched his fist then quickly relaxed it, not wanting Peter to see him angry again. No mutant should ever feel that way, no living being should. To feel like just their existence in this world was wrong. 

“It’s not a curse. It’s a blessing…I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but it is. It’s extraordinary, and you should be proud of such a power.” Erik said with a smile, one that Peter returned. Erik let out a silent sigh of relief, having finally seen him smile for the first time in almost a week.

“Bet I could definitely win against you if I was at full power.” Peter lightly teased, moving his Knight piece. Erik let out a sharp laugh.

“I have no doubt about that, you’ve almost beat me without it.” They continued playing in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Erik spoke again.

“Thank you for telling me, Peter. I know…” He stopped for a moment before continuing. “I know how hard it must be, to talk to someone. Anyone. Especially here, in this place. You may not trust me yet, or ever, which is completely understandable. But I will always listen, if that is what you wish.” Peter had stopped playing completely, staring at Erik with a contemplative look upon his face.

“I do trust you.” He said slowly, partly to himself. “You’re my bes-” He stopped, swallowing and correcting himself, looking up at Erik again. “You’re my friend.” 

Erik let a wide smile grace his face. “Then I’m honored to carry that title, one that I fully reciprocate.” Peter laughed lightly, rolling his eyes.

“You can just say I’m your friend too, Erik. You don’t have to be so formal.”  

“You’re my friend too, Peter.” Peter gave a proud smile at the statement.

WEEK ELEVEN

Having Peter’s trust meant a great deal to Erik. Never would he have thought it was even possible after experiencing that first week in the cell with him. When he had been terrified to even shake hands with a stranger. He would do everything in his power to honor and protect that trust this child had in him.

He was worried though. It had been eleven weeks now, eleven weeks with no sign whatsoever of a rescue…not that he would have any forewarning of one anyway. But he wondered how long things would stay this way. They had for Peter, almost nine months now. Erik froze at that number, nine months…so long for one person to have to endure this day in and day out, especially so young. He was right about the assumption he had of Peter during that first week, he was incredibly strong willed. And that will is what had saved his life so far.

Peter’s reason for being in the same location made sense. His ability was incredibly unique, even for that of a mutant. He wasn’t just fast on foot, everything about him was fast. His healing, metabolism, even his thought process. And that meant near endless and new experimentations. 

Erik’s powers were strong, and he himself preferred them and was incredibly proud to have them. But they weren’t as wide ranged as others. It meant he had it easier in this situation, but it also meant that he was more expendable. And the likelihood of him being transferred perhaps to a different facility or part of this one was higher. He of course did not voice any of these concerns to Peter, he didn’t want to scare the boy. And Peter himself most likely already had the same unvoiced thoughts.

Said boy was currently sleeping less than a foot away, curled up on his cot under two blankets, one Erik had given him from the unused cot left in the room. The cot hadn’t been occupied since that night, the guards actually heeding Erik’s warning.

A change in Peter’s breathing interrupted Erik’s thoughts as he turned his attention to his companion. A choked gasp was all that escaped Peter’s mouth before he sat straight up, breathing fast and gripping his blanket tight. Erik gave him a moment to gather himself and inspect his surroundings before talking in a light tone.

“Peter, it’s alright. It was just a dream.” He found that not immediately crowding the boy right after a nightmare helped more than anything. He always let Peter make the first move, not wanting to startle him. 

Peter took several deep breaths, effectively calming himself before nodding in response to Erik. He leaned back against the wall, now just inches away from Erik. They sat there in silence for a few minutes, Peter’s deep breaths the only audible noise.

“Would you like to discuss it?” Erik asked carefully. Peter let out a breath.

“It was just a memory.” He replied in a sad tone. “Someone…someone I knew, before all of this. They’re gone now.” He whispered the last part to himself, wiping his eye. 

Erik didn’t push him anymore. Though Peter had indulged much about his life, Erik knew there was still so much he hadn’t mentioned. He couldn’t be mad…he had done the same thing. 

Erik took a deep breath before speaking.

“I had a daughter.” He started simply. Peter looked up in surprise, turning his body toward Erik. 

“Had…?” He asked hesitantly. Erik nodded, before turning his head to meet Peter’s gaze.

“Her name was Anya…she was almost one when we lost her. When she was taken away from us.” He corrected, reigning in his grief and anger.

“I relived that night, over and over in my dreams. The same memory, replaying almost every night for years. The details, things I would change…but I never could.” Peter didn’t utter a word, his lip quivering lightly but no sound accompanying. 

“I tell you this, Peter, because whatever memory haunting you will fade with time…it will not disappear, but it will not be constant.” It took several years for Erik to not dream and replay that night every time he closed his eyes. He hoped the same fate did not curse Peter.

“I’m sorry.” Peter whispered and Erik gave a sad smile. 

“Don’t be. She was a gift, and me and Magda were blessed to have her. It wasn’t long enough…but we were lucky to have her even for such a short time.” He said lightly. It took him a long time to accept her death, to accept that he should appreciate the time given with her. And afterward the time he should have spent properly grieving instead of chasing old ghosts for revenge that he thought would lessen his pain, but never could. 

“I…” Peter started, and Erik broke himself away from his ever darkening thoughts to give him his full attention. Peter wrung his hands nervously, trying to work up the courage to say what he was struggling to get out. 

“I haven’t told you everything about me.” He continued carefully. Erik nodded, knowing this already.

“I know, Peter. It’s okay, I don’t hold that against you or blame you at all for doing so.” He stated, not wanting the boy to feel like he had to indulge anymore then he felt comfortable doing so.

“The thing is…I just…” Peter let out a frustrated breath. Erik decided to help him out, let him know that he didn’t need to say anymore.

“Pete-”

“I have a sister.” Peter interrupted him. And that was the last thing he expected to hear.

“What?” Erik asked, or perhaps blurted out.

“I have a twin sister! Her name is Wanda and she’s eleven minutes older than me, literally the only information on our birth certificate along with our names and our Mother’s name ‘Jane Doe’.” Peter rolled his eyes, talking too fast for Erik to even get a word in or properly digest the information being given to him from the boy.

“But her name is Wanda, and she’s my best friend and the only person I have in the world and that’s the memory I have every night!” Peter blurted out quickly, letting out a relieved breath as if he was finally glad to be rid of this weight on his chest. 

Erik sat in silence, slowly trying to process what Peter had just revealed to him. He had a sister? A twin? He knew Peter hadn’t revealed everything about himself, or his past. But Erik did not even consider this possibility. 

“Erik? Are you okay?” Peter asked, waving his hand in front of Erik’s face as he stared blankly ahead. 

“You have a twin sister?” Erik repeated. Peter looked at him worryingly before slowly nodding.

“Where…” Erik stopped, before deciding to change the question. “Was she taken too? Was she taken here?” God, he hoped she wasn’t. Peter didn’t deserve that. Wanda didn’t deserve that. Peter frowned, lowering his gaze.

“No…not that I know of, anyway.” He took a breath before explaining further. “She was taken a couple weeks before I was, from the foster home we were staying at the time. But she was taken by the workers from the foster agency, not the ones from here. Not the same ones who took me…” 

A dark look came over Peter’s face. “They said there would be a better chance of us getting adopted if we were separated.” 

They split them up? They split up brother and sister, twins, who hadn’t known anyone else their entire short lives but each other? Because they wanted to get rid of them faster? Erik quelled his anger, trying to focus on the rest of Peter’s explanation.

“I ran to the agency headquarters that night to look for her. I was gonna run us both away somewhere, where we could just…live on on our own.” Peter smiled sadly. 

“She wasn’t there.” Erik said, filling in the obvious.

Peter shook his head. “She wasn't.” He confirmed. “I looked for paperwork, anything! And I couldn’t find…” He trailed off frustratingly. “I don’t know where they took her, and I would leave every night to look! I did. And then two weeks later, I was taken by the people here. My foster parent didn’t care, he especially didn’t when they paid him off.” He said bitterly.

“I don’t know where she is! I don’t know if she’s safe or…” Peter didn’t finish, wiping a stray tear away. He inhaled sharply, trying to prevent from crying further. “I failed her, Erik.” He whispered brokenly.

Erik reached over, grabbing hold of Peter’s hand and pulled him gently towards him. Peter effortlessly leaned into him, pushing his face into Erik’s chest and gripping his shirt tightly as Erik wrapped his arms around the boy.

“You did not fail her, Peter.” Erik reassured him firmly, tightening his hold to make his point. Peter shook his head again, continuing to hide his face.

“I did! I should have stopped them right when they showed up. I could have ran with her at that moment. I could have done everything differently…” He said, taking in a shaky breath. Erik set his hand on Peter's back.

“The dream you have, it’s that memory.” Erik stated, Peter nodding his head in confirmation. 

“I just wish I could go back.” His muffled voice replied. 

Erik took in a deep breath, leaning back against the wall with Peter still wrapped in his arms. 

“I know you do Peter…but we can’t, neither one of us. We can only go forward.” He pulled Peter away from his chest slightly so he could look the boy in his eyes, which were wet. 

“We can only go forward.” He repeated. “But I promise you Peter, we will get out of here someday. And I will help you find your sister. You have my word.” He had never meant a promise as much as he had this one. Peter met his gaze with a light nod.

“I believe you.”

WEEK TWELVE

After Peter’s surprising reveal, Erik hoped that was the last shocking news he received for the foreseeable future. For Peter it seemed to be a heavy weight lifted from him, and Erik had wished he had told him earlier just so he could have felt better sooner.

He told him all about his sister and their lives. How they had been in and out of close to a dozen different foster homes, and how they only had each other to rely on. Erik’s heart ached for the boy and his sister, wherever she was at. Erik told him in return about their best resource at the mansion that would help find his sister; Cerebro. Peter looked skeptical, trying not to get his hopes too high about this almost unbelievable device. It did sound farfetched to someone who had never observed its power, Erik didn’t blame him for being hesitant. But to lose the one person who had always been a constant in your life, and not even know their status must be agony. He asked Peter if she shared his mutation, to which he answered him with a loud laugh. 

“She wishes! No, her power is…” He stopped and thought for a minute, trying to come up with a good description. “Weird.” He finished. Erik raised an eyebrow.

“Weird?” That wasn’t very descriptive at all.

“Very weird. We’re not sure exactly what they are. Maybe some form of telekinesis? And energy manipulation, I think, anyway. She has these weird red wiggly streams that come from her hands and body sometimes, especially when she gets angry. She calls it chaos, because she says that’s how it makes her feel inside.” Peter shrugged, then smiled. “But I call it magic.”

“Sounds incredible.” Erik said. “And terrifying.” He added worryingly, it must be for someone so young to not know what they are capable of. Erik could relate.

Peter nodded in agreement. “She doesn’t like using them, she says they scare her. I told her they’re awesome! But…I guess I understand. Mine are easier to control, even though everyone is so much slower!” He complained lightheartedly and Erik gave a small smile.

“I wish she could learn to love hers, control them so she doesn’t feel so scared…” Peter said softly, then looked up at Erik. “You guys help with that at the school. Or you will? When it’s finally open?” Peter asked with hopeful eyes.

“We will, of course we will.” Erik reassured him firmly, happy to see Peter finally have some hope for a future outside of this cell. He wished he felt as hopeful. It had been twelve weeks now. Twelve weeks and he wasn’t any closer to seeing an end to this hell he and Peter were trapped in. It would have driven him mad if he didn’t have Peter to anchor him, and again he felt himself amazed at the perseverance this child had in him to have lasted six months here with his sanity intact before Erik had met him.

The week went on as normal, with thankfully neither one of them having their dosages stopped in preparation for another round of experimentations. Erik was thankful that they would hopefully have at least one more week of peace and calm. He had no idea how wrong he would be about that assumption by the end of the week.

The cell door shut loudly after Peter arrived back from his round of extractions and dosings, and he had a lot to say about his trip.

“I think the guy in charge is here.” He said, quickly walking over to Erik and sitting down beside him on his own cot, grabbing a stale piece of bread from his tray that was dropped off while he was gone. 

“Why do you say that?” Erik asked. Peter took a bite of his bread before replying.

“Everyone seems flustered.” He shrugged. “Last time that happened was because the boss man was here, I only saw a glimpse of him then…he was looking through all the windows of the lab rooms. But I know he was important! You could just tell by all the people following him and them freaking out.” He concluded as he took a sip of his water. Erik nodded to himself.

“Sounds like it then…” He said. Hopefully he wasn’t here long. Though Erik was very curious about who this man was. Was it someone he had a lead on before all of this? Or maybe Raven or Logan had. And if they did, perhaps they had one on him now. Erik did not get his hopes up for that possibility. 

“Peter? Did you happen to catch his name?” 

Peter nodded as he swallowed his bite. “Yeah, heard one of the guards mention… ‘Shaw’ I think?” 

Erik’s entire body froze. No, it wasn’t possible. There hadn’t been word or any sightings of Shaw in years. They had thought him dead. The CIA had all but confirmed it, and though Erik still had his doubts even he had come to terms that the man had perhaps finally perished. The man who was responsible for the start of Erik’s neverending pain. The man who had shot his Mother in front of him.

This was the absolute worst case scenario, Erik concluded to himself. Of course it was him. The Universe had no mercy for Erik Lehnsherr and his ongoing agony. And now Peter was in the middle of…whatever all of this was.

It made sense that someone like Shaw was behind this organization. One with the sole purpose of studying mutant kind for its own gain. He had done it before, and he was doing it still. Erik closed his eyes tightly, taking a deep breath in.

“...Erik?” Peter’s concerned voice barely broke through his panicked thoughts. He felt a small hand grab his and he slowly opened his eyes to face Peter’s own worried ones staring back at him.

“Are you okay?” Peter looked scared, Erik noticed with guilt. He should be…because Erik was terrified.

“That man…I know him.” Erik stated in a low voice and Peter furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Is he one of the men you hunted before?” He asked. Erik gave a light nod.

“He’s the one who started it all.” Was his answer.

Peter looked more confused. “But…that was when you were a kid? He doesn’t look that old.”

Erik shook his head in frustration, running a hand through his hair before answering. 

“Decelerated aging, it’s a part of his mutation. His body metabolizes energy to rejuvenate youth.” He explained. 

Peter’s face blanched in realization. “Erik, he’s gonna know you’re here.” Peter may have been just a child, but he easily understood the seriousness and truth of the situation they were now in.

Erik could only nod, he most likely already knew. Peter was still holding his hand.

“What do we do?” He asked in a small voice. Erik gripped his hand tight. 

“I don’t know, Peter.” Erik answered truthfully.

Peter glanced at him sadly, understanding showing in his eyes. He shifted so he was sitting against Erik’s side, still holding his hand, and laid his head against his arm. Erik took comfort in his presence, and prayed this wouldn’t be the last time he saw the boy. But he knew it was a real possibility that it very well could be. 

His theory proved to be closer to that prediction when the doors finally opened, three guards walking in. Erik didn’t even wait for them to call his name before he started to stand up, dropping a firm kiss on top of Peter’s head before doing so. Peter kept a tight hold on his hand until Erik had stood up completely, having to pull away from the boy’s grip. 

He allowed the guards to cuff him, and saw they had brought a bag with them. It all but confirmed his next destination. He looked one last time toward Peter, giving him a smile. “It’s going to be okay, Peter.” He lied. 

Peter held back tears, and nodded back. “I know.” He lied back.

----------

He couldn’t tell exactly where he was being taken, not with the bag over his head and blocking his view completely. They went down in the elevator, perhaps a bit longer than he had before but he couldn’t be sure. They finally took the bag off as they approached a plain white door. They opened it and guided him into the room, which was small and contained a single rectangular table with a chair and a large screen that took up almost the entire wall. One of the guards pushed Erik into the chair and locked his cuffs to a chain that was attached to the center of the table, then all three guards promptly left the room.

Erik sat in silence, having already come to terms with what was about to happen. He willed himself to keep calm, not only for his sake but for that of Peter’s too. He would have to once again face the man that haunted his dreams and memories. And he had accepted that fact, there was nothing he could do to change it. He closed his eyes and took a calming breath.

The door finally opened and to no surprise walked in his life long nemesis. He looked the same, the same as he always did in Erik’s nightmares and memories. Erik stared directly at him, he would not show fear to this man.

“Erik, my friend. I can not begin to tell you how thrilled I was to find out that you were here. And for three months! I apologize that it took so long for me to have found out about your presence here.” He said joyfully. “It’s always great to catch up with an old friend, isn’t it?” 

“I’d rather die than consider you a friend.” Erik sneered. Shaw let out a laugh before replying.

“Don’t be like that! I told you before Erik, I don’t want to hurt you.” Shaw shook his head. “No, I wanted to help you. I still do.”

“Geh zum Teufel!” Erik cursed him, effectively telling him to go to hell. 

Shaw tutted, shaking his head again. “Now there you go being difficult again. One more time, Lehnsherr. I will help you, after you help me understand something.” He paced slowly back and forth in front of the desk Erik was chained to.

“Now, I know you got captured visiting a mutant. For that pathetic waste of time school, I’m sure.” He stopped and turned towards Erik. “But how did you know we were following you? How did you know you were going to get captured? I just-” He threw his hands up with a smile. “I just don’t understand why you didn’t just attempt to break into the facility instead? You always were difficult to understand though…”

Erik had no fucking clue what this man was talking about. Was this a trick of some kind? He was already tired of his games.

“Well, Erik? I need an answer.” Shaw demanded lightly, smiling down at Erik.

“I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.” Erik answered truthfully. Shaw let out a dramatic sigh.

“Now this, this is what I don’t like. I don’t like being lied to, Erik, you know that. Tell me how you knew about this place and how you knew you’d be placed in that exact cell?” Shaw demanded, starting to lose his patience.

But Erik, honest to god, had no idea what he was going on about. Erik shook his head before answering again.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said slowly through gritted teeth.

Shaw was getting visibly angry now. “How! How did you know you were going to be placed with your own son, Erik?!” He spat out, frustrated. 

Erik blinked in surprise, his son? Perhaps Shaw had finally completely lost it after all. Or this was an attempt to manipulate him.

“I will not fall for your trickery, Shaw.” Erik said defiantly, shaking his head. Shaw stopped and studied Erik for a long moment, looking confused. 

“You…you really didn’t know?” He said in sudden realization, making Erik’s skin crawl.

“Know what?” Erik all but growled.

Shaw laughed for almost a minute straight, wiping his eyes in amusement before turning his gaze up to the ceiling. 

“This is too good to be true, I mean the chances of all this happening by complete accident?” He studied Erik’s face closely. “But you really don’t know, I can see that now.” He nodded to himself. “Well, this certainly changes things then.”

“Explain.” Erik commanded, tired of being made a fool. Shaw smiled before answering.

“Ah yes, well I suppose a visual would be the best way to explain all of this wouldn’t it? I was saving this for later to prove you wrong when I thought you would keep on denying, but I guess it works just as well for showing you the truth now.” Shaw said with delight, using a remote to turn on the large screen that was mounted to the wall.

The screen showed two DNA strands, of what seemed to be results of some kind. Erik’s eyes quickly scanned the names at either side of the screen. His body froze, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. This was impossible, there was no way this could be true. 

“Congratulations Erik, it’s a boy!” Shaw said gleefully, looking at the screen in pride. The screen where the two names read ‘Erik Lehnsherr’ and ‘Peter Maximoff’. Erik shook his head in denial. This had to be a trick. He was trying to manipulate him, use Peter against him. But Erik stopped and thought for a moment. ‘Maximoff’, he recognized that name. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to control his breathing.

Shaw meanwhile was having the time of his life, clicking the remote again. The picture changed to a picture of her, of the mother of Peter and Wanda, Natalya Maximoff. Yes, Erik of course remembered her. She had helped him in his endeavors for a while, and they had shared a brief relationship. But she had disappeared one night, leaving him a note. She had feared him, what he could do, what he had done. She couldn’t stay, she had said in the note. And he didn’t hold it against her at all.

He felt bad, because it didn’t hurt when she had left. And he never gave her much of a thought afterwards. Erik felt sick. Why didn’t she tell him? But also, what right did he have to know if he had barely given another thought after she left? What kind of man was he? 

But she could have told him, he could, he would have taken both of his kids in a heartbeat. ‘Both’. Erik clenched his fists, did Shaw know about Wanda? He hadn’t mentioned her at all, having only his and Peter’s results on the screen. 

“I can see you’re in shock, it’s not everyday you find out you’re a father. Especially to the person you’ve been sharing a cell with for the past three months!” Shaw shook his head in disbelief. “You should be proud though, Erik. Your son’s power is extraordinary.” Erik clenched his jaw.

“He’s one of our most interesting specimens, and we’ve only just scratched the surface of what can be done with his…contribution to our cause.” Shaw smiled. “I haven’t gotten to meet him in person yet, but I can’t wai-”

“Stop.” Erik interrupted, looking up at Shaw with a steady gaze. “What is it you want Shaw?”

Shaw waited a moment before answering, meeting Erik’s gaze with a cool one of his own.

“What I’ve always wanted, Erik. What you wanted…or used to. We are the future of the human race, we’re better, stronger. And what I’m doing here will solidify that fact.” He stated calmly.

“By torturing your fellow mutants? Treating them like lab rats? How is that helping your own kind? I never wanted that future at the expense of…of whatever the hell this is.” Erik concluded, shaking his head in disgust.

Shaw let out a sharp laugh before replying. “You know as well as I do that sacrifices must be made for the greater good, Erik. You and I used to be on the same path.”

“We were never on the same path. I fought for the rights of our kind, to stop the discrimination against us. Not this.” Erik denied. 

“You hunted those who wronged you, who wronged mutants. You murdered them in cold blood, and yet you would call me evil? You call what I do wrong? This is the answer!” Shaw exclaimed, holding his arms out. “All of this, what I’m doing here, is going to be the solution for mutants to finally rule mankind. I offered you a spot at my side before Erik, and you were foolish to turn it down. Don’t make that mistake again.”

“I was wrong. ” Erik ground out. “I was wrong in the way I chose to go about my grief and anger, and I realize that now.” He paused for a moment before continuing. 

“But the one thing I wasn’t wrong about, the one thing I know for certain was the right decision, was denying your offer.” 

Shaw let out a disappointed sigh. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. Especially given the people you’ve chosen to surround yourself with since the last time we met.” Erik's body stiffened at the mention of his friends and family. 

Shaw clapped his hands together once. “This has been quite the reunion! But I still have a busy next few days ahead of me while I’m still here.” Shaw said as he walked toward the door. “Remember, Erik,” He started, turning to Erik with one hand on the door handle. “remember the choices I have repeatedly given you time and time again. And don’t regret the consequences that will someday come from denying them.” He walked out, closing the door firmly behind him.

Erik’s entire body immediately relaxed the second the door shut, and he took a deep calming breath. He buried his face in his hands, closing his eyes tightly and willed himself to find calm. He had a son and daughter, and he may never have a chance to see Peter again, or even meet Wanda. He looked up at the screen, one half with the DNA results and the other with Natalya’s picture with the words ‘deceased’ underneath it, though it did not state the cause. 

She had died two years after the twins' birth, Erik estimated. He felt anger and resentment when looking at her picture. But also sadness and regret. Regret that she didn’t find him a safe option to go to in a time of need and uncertainness for herself. And he only had himself to blame.

The door opened again, three guards walking in and promptly uncuffing him from the table. The contents on the screen being the last thing Erik saw before the bag was once again put over his head.

WEEK THIRTEEN

They did not bring him back to his original cell, the one shared with Peter. Erik had predicted this. They moved him into a small room, with white padded walls. One that seemed originally created for psych patients, perhaps. Two days he had been in this room, the only sign from the outside being the usual meals dropped off twice a day and a daily injection.

Erik took this time to reflect on the information that he had been made aware of. His children. He had children . One he hadn’t even met, let alone knew about until a couple of weeks ago. And the other being one that he had spent the last few months getting to know and learn about everyday. 

He thought about how unbelievable this all was, the chances that he just happened to end up in the same facility let alone a cell as his long lost unknown son. He would have questioned it further if not for all the evidence. He could tell Shaw wasn’t lying, and that he didn’t really have a reason to, seeming legitimately surprised that Erik did not know that Peter was actually his son. The more Erik thought about it, the more it made sense.

Peter had Erik’s Mother’s eyes, he thought sadly. Who did Wanda look like? He wondered. Did she resemble him at all? Or did she take after her Mother? All he knew about her is that she had deep Auburn colored hair. 

The only positive in all of this was that it didn’t seem that Shaw had any knowledge whatsoever of Wanda’s existence. This was good. It proved that she wasn’t taken anywhere associated with this facility or Shaw, that nothing relating to her genetics was in any of their databases. Erik would take any win he could get. He just hoped she was somewhere safe, and that he’d get to actually meet her someday. That he’d get to see Peter again, and explain all of this to him.

Erik sat on the ground, elbows resting on his knees while he raked his hands through his hair frustratingly. How would he even begin to explain all of this to Peter? Would he be disappointed, or proud? How would he explain how sorry he was that he wasn’t there for him and his sister from the beginning? That if he had known about their existence, he would have changed his ways in an instant.

All of this was just hopeful wishing at this point though. He may never get to see Peter again. Erik closed his eyes tightly at the thought, desperately holding back tears of anger and frustration. To be confined like this, knowing what he knew at this moment was torture in itself.

The fact was that it didn’t even change how he felt before he knew Peter was his biological son. That drive and want to keep him safe, to give him a stable home after all of this, to give him a chance at a life that he long deserved before being a prisoner. That was still there and just as strong as it was before.

On the third day, the door opened and the five usual guards that assisted with transporting arrived. There was no bag put over Erik’s head this time around, but they didn’t seem to be walking very far. Only down the hallway, about five doors down. 

They entered a larger room, almost half of it being taken up by a large clear box. Erik knew immediately it was specially made for him, his suspicion being proved accurate as they shoved him inside of it, locking the door behind them as they exited.

He looked around the box and the rest of the room outside it, looking for instruments or other forms of experimentation, but didn’t find anything of the sort, just a large screen on every wall. Perhaps they were bringing them from the outside. Erik let out a light sigh and paced back and forth slowly.

After what seemed like almost an hour passed, the main door to the room opened. Shaw walked in, flanked by about four guards. Erik refrained from rolling his eyes, remembering Peter’s comment from before about Shaw having his own entourage of followers everywhere he went in this facility.

“Erik! I was afraid I wouldn’t get to see you again before I had to take my leave, but I’m glad I get the chance to.” Erik didn’t even bother to reply.

“Alright, fair enough. I want to make this quick, but that will be completely up to you so let’s cut straight to the point.” Shaw said in a clipped tone. “A day ago, we had one of our facilities compromised. Not a large one, or of much importance thankfully, but still…I need to know who was responsible.” 

“I don’t know why you’re telling me this, as you can see I’ve been quite preoccupied the last few months.” Erik gestured around him. Shaw smiled sharply before continuing, paying Erik’s statement no mind.

“I have intel that someone who works closely with Charles may be responsible. That there’s a number of…safe houses, I think it was, that may contain information on some of these facilities.” Erik showed no outward signs of stress or knowing. Inside his blood felt like it froze. He just hoped that Charles and the other’s had long abandoned and cleared those safe houses shortly after he had been captured.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Shaw.” Erik said steadily. Shaw looked at him intently for a few moments.

“Are you sure about that, Erik? Choose your answer carefully, my friend.” Erik clenched his fist at the word ‘friend’, considering this man the furthest thing from being that. 

“I’m sure.” He replied resolutely. 

Shaw tutted. “Okay, if you’re sure.” He gestured to the guard by the door, who then opened it, another guard entered dragging in a person forcefully by the arm.

Erik’s entire body froze in terror as he stared at his son, who was now standing in the middle of the room a couple of feet away from Shaw. No, no this could not be happening. 

Peter looked around the room before his eyes fell on Erik, looking confused. “Erik?” He whispered, his face changing slightly to relief. Relief that Erik was here? Or maybe that he was alive, period. Erik himself was feeling anything but relief at the moment. 

Shaw let out a laugh. “That’s right, he would still call you Erik wouldn’t he? Poor boy doesn’t know any better.” Erik breathed in sharply.

“Shaw, don-”

“Don’t what? Erik? Don’t tell him the truth he so rightfully deserves to know? It’s his right as much as it was your’s, isn’t it?” Shaw spat out with a smile before kneeling down beside Peter and grabbing his chin tightly, squeezing his cheeks. Peter flinched back slightly, before being pulled forward again by Shaw. Erik grit his teeth in anger, moving up against the glass as close as he could get.

“You know, I can see the resemblance. I think it’s the eyes, so like your Mother’s.” He said to Erik before letting go of Peter. 

Peter, who looked so very confused and scared. Erik wanted to reassure him, tell him it was all going to be alright. He’d only be lying though. 

“Please, not like this.” Erik begged. He promised himself he would never lower himself to begging to this man, but he didn’t care. Anything to spare Peter from finding out this way.

“So you’d rather him not know? Ever? Are you that ashamed? Are you that ashamed to tell him, you’re son? That his Father is a pathetic, weak, excuse for a mutant.” Erik closed his eyes tightly. And there it was, the truth delivered in the worst way he could ever imagine. 

“What?” 

Erik opened his eyes at the sound of Peter’s shocked voice. Shaw nodded with a smile before replying.

“Yes, Peter.” He clicked his remote, the results coming up on all four screens that lined each wall in the room. “It’s disappointing, I know. To know that this once powerful man, who was offered the chance of a lifetime by yours truly, is your Father.” 

Peter's eyes frantically scanned the results, brows furrowing. 

“What?” He whispered to himself again, shaking his head lightly. He was probably disappointed, Erik thought sadly. He wanted desperately to explain to Peter the truth. That he hadn’t known.

Shaw waved one of the guards over to him, whispering something into their ear before they nodded and walked to the door. Peter was still staring in shock at the screen that had now changed to the picture of his deceased Mother. Erik realized it was the first time Peter had even seen her real name. 

“Now I know this must all be jarring, finding out like this. I do apologize, Peter. But your Father is a stubborn man, and sometimes extra measures must be taken to get what you want. You’ll learn that in life, my boy.” Erik took in a breath to calm himself. “And I really did not want to resort to this.” Shaw finished before nodding at the guard near the door. 

The door opened and another guard pushed in a cart with what looked to be a metal box of some kind, it was smoldering. Next to it on the cart there was a handle visible to Erik, the end of it hidden behind the metal box.

“Now, I’ll ask one more time, Erik. The addresses to the safe houses.” Shaw stated calmly as he grabbed the handle to the hidden instrument. He lifted it up, before gesturing to one of the guards to lift the lid of the smoldering box off, revealing burning coals. Erik’s face blanched with horror at the realization of what Shaw intended to do next. The end of the instrument he was holding finally revealed to be the letter ‘M’. He stuck the end of it into the smoldering coals, letting it heat up. Peter took in a visibly deep breath, also quickly coming to the same conclusion. Shaw was going to brand his son.

“Shaw, wai-”

“Grab his arm, two of you now. I need to make sure he’s steady.” Shaw commanded the guards. Peter shook his head in fear, trying to back away before being grabbed by the shoulders by one guard and his left arm being forcefully grabbed and straightened out by another.

“No, no, no, please don’t! Please-” Peter begged frantically, fighting the two guards holding him in place with everything he had. Shaw took the branding iron out of the coals, the ‘M’ glowing amber. He moved it closer to Peter’s arm.

“Stop! Stop, I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you all of them!” Erik yelled, immediately listing off the address of every single safe house. Shaw nodded calmly in approval after Erik had finished.

Erik was breathing heavily, his eyes not leaving Peter’s own that were filled with panic and now looking at Erik. He gave a slight nod to Peter, trying to communicate that it was going to be okay. 

“See? Now that wasn’t so hard.” Shaw said with a smile, lowering the branding tool slightly. Erik almost let out a breath in relief.

“But! I still think there needs to be a lesson taught here.” 

“Wai-” Erik began to shout as Shaw quickly pushed the smoldering end of the branding iron onto the inside of Peter’s forearm. 

The guttural scream that came from Peter would forever haunt Erik, echoing throughout the room. Erik didn’t even hear his own scream, but he felt it. He didn’t remember falling to his knees, or his fists hammering the unbreakable clear wall of his prison. No, the only thing he noticed was his son’s agony. His face contorted in pain, the tears falling down his face, and his seemingly never ending scream.

Ten seconds. Ten seconds that felt like an eternity, before Shaw finally pulled the iron away from the boy’s now scarred arm. The guards released him and Peter immediately collapsed to his knees, gasping and sobbing in pain, pulling his arm inwards toward his chest. The scent of burnt skin and flesh filling the room. 

Shaw shook his head as he laid the iron back on the cart. “Well, that was unpleasant. Rest assured it wasn’t fun for me either.” He knelt down next to the still crying and shell shocked child. “Let’s have a look now then.” He said softly, reaching for Peter’s arm.

Peter took in a stuttered breath, trying again to back away from his grasp but being stopped by the guard behind him. Shaw grabbed his arm. 

“Don’t touch hi-”

“I would keep quiet if I were you, Erik. I think enough damage has been done today, don’t you?” He questioned, turning his head and pinning Erik with a steady gaze. 

Erik clenched his jaw, his entire body shaking slightly in silent rage but not wanting to give Shaw any more reason to harm Peter. He watched helplessly as Shaw carefully stretched out Peter’s arm, turning it so the newly formed scar was now visible. The letter ‘M’ stood out red and blistered against the boy's white pale arm.

“Yes, very unfortunate indeed. But carry this on you with pride, my boy.” Shaw said in a proud tone. Erik clenched his fists again at the mention of ‘my boy’. 

"And rest assured that it will stay, despite your fast healing factor when not suppressed. I had my top scientist make sure of it. A new compound, created just for you!"

Peter didn’t even glance at the branding on his skin, instead glaring directly at Shaw with wet eyes that were filled with hate and anger, along with fresh tear marks gracing his cheeks. Shaw let out a sharp laugh.

“Oh, there’s no denying it even if you wanted to, Erik. That look alone is proof enough that he’s your son!” Shaw exclaimed with a smile before letting go of Peter’s arm and standing back up, giving Peter’s hair a playful ruffle. Peter quickly jerked his head away from his hand in anger.

Shaw gestured toward the guard behind Peter, and the boy was grabbed and handcuffed once again, wincing as they did so. “Take this as a lesson, Peter. To never turn down a chance of a lifetime deal, like your Father did.” 

Peter gave one last hate filled glare toward Shaw before being turned away and walked toward the door, he managed to turn his head one last time to Erik, giving this time a helpless tear-filled glance. Erik kept eye contact with him until the door slammed shut. He was still on knees, not having moved from his position since Peter’s screams filled the room.

Shaw brushed his hands together before giving a sigh. “I really do have to leave this time, I wish I could stay longer. But duty calls, and I have a lot of potentially new intel to cover.” Erik did not respond, staring straight ahead in silence. Shaw walked toward the door before stopping and turning back to Erik.

“I’m sure you have hard feelings over what happened here today, Erik. And what has happened in the past. But as long as you cooperate and do as you are told, no harm will come to you or your boy. That’s all I’ve ever asked of you, it’s quite simple really.” Shaw gave a slight pause before continuing. 

“But lie to me again, or try to betray me…then I promise you, when we’re done with Peter, I will shoot him in front of you as I did your Mother.” And with that he walked out of the room.

WEEK FOURTEEN

Time seemed to stop completely for Erik since the incident involving Peter. Involving his son, and Erik’s complete failure as a Father. He didn’t keep close track of how many days exactly had gone by since that day, but he estimated roughly that it was most likely close to five or six. He was taken back to the small white padded room after Shaw had left.

He sat there motionlessly, replaying the horrific scene over and over in his mind. When he did manage to sleep, it was fitful and restless, he could not escape the image of Peter’s pain filled expression. He couldn’t escape his screams and cries. 

He was sure that Peter hated him now that he knew the truth. How could he not? He had known that Erik was his Father for not even five minutes before he was then painfully punished for the simple fact. And Erik could do nothing but stand there and watch on in horror. He wouldn’t be surprised if Peter never wanted to see him again.

All Erik wanted was to see him again. God knows he didn’t deserve to, but he had so much to tell him, to explain. Instead he was locked in this room, another prison. Trapped with only his thoughts. He had failed spectacularly as a Father, three times over now. First Anya, his precious first born who he hadn’t been able to save. Then Peter, who was still alive as far as he knew…but was even more traumatized than before Erik had met him. And lastly, Wanda. A daughter who he hadn’t even gotten to meet yet, and had no idea where she was or if she was even alive. 

Erik held back tears of frustration, closing his eyes tightly. What would Magda think of him? He knew she wouldn’t be upset about the discovery of him having two children. They both had relationships in between the time they were not together, and there was no jealousy or animosity on either side. In fact, he had a feeling that she would be thrilled at the thought of him having children. 

The idea of having a family again was one Magda thought about often, and shared with Erik. She had suffered unusual bleeding directly after Anya’s birth, the only option of stopping it being a hysterectomy. She was fine with the outcome at the time, saying that Anya was enough. 

Then she and Erik had found eachother again, and Erik told her he was fine with just the two of them. He was scared, he had failed once already at being a Father, and he never admitted out loud that he was almost relieved that she wasn’t able to have any more children. He never dared utter these thoughts out loud to her. They had agreed they were fine, that they would soon have a school filled with children that would occupy their time anyway so it didn’t matter.

So no, he wasn’t concerned at all of her reaction to two new added members of their small family. But what would she think of him letting his son get maimed in front of him? Of being such a horrible person that the Mother of his children couldn’t even inform him of their existence?

‘Perhaps this is what I deserve? ’ Erik thought to himself. Maybe this was him paying for all of his sins? He just wished his son did not have to suffer for the consequences of Erik’s own actions. His self-deprecating thoughts were interrupted by the door opening, followed by three guards walking in, and to Erik’s surprise carrying a bag. He was about to be transported.

He did not expect this, to be transported somewhere else so soon. But it had been six days, perhaps they needed the room for another prisoner. Shaw probably had a special room for Erik being made up since the incident that had happened almost a week ago. He didn’t even bother trying to follow where they were leading him, not being able to see and just not having the energy and desire to try and remember the turns they were making.

Erik hated this feeling, it had been so long since he had felt so utterly defeated and hopeless. He had been trying to see the slight good in the situation he was put in, and Peter had helped tremendously with that. He had given Erik a reason to keep positive, to see hope and keep the faith that he wouldn’t be a prisoner forever. That his family and friends would eventually find him. But now, Shaw had squashed any positive emotion whatsoever he had felt in the past fourteen weeks. 

Finally the bag was lifted from his head, his eyes squinting from the sudden change in light. He quickly tried to focus, his gaze landing on a familiar door. The door to his regular cell, the one he shared with Peter. Surely they had moved Peter, then? Erik tried not to panic at the sudden thought of where he could have been relocated, and with who. 

He didn’t have time to dwell on the thought as he was uncuffed, the door then opening before he was shoved into the room, the door slamming shut behind him. He immediately scanned the room, desperately looking for the one person he had spent almost his entire imprisonment with. To his utter surprise and relief, there he stood in his usual corner, Peter. His son.

Peter stood, his now recently scarred arm wrapped sloppily and loosely in what seemed to be part of a blanket. He didn’t move, instead standing his ground and staring at Erik in almost shock, then his expression hardened and quickly closed off. Erik didn’t move or say anything, wanting to give Peter the first move. Erik also had no idea what to say. He honestly didn’t expect to ever see Peter again. Peter finally spoke.

“Is it true?” He demanded, eyes not leaving Erik’s. 

Erik gave a nod. “Yes.” He answered simply. Peter’s brows furrowed before asking his next question.

“Did you know?” He asked in a shaky, almost scared sounding voice. Erik swallowed, blinking back tears.

“No.” He answered desperately, shaking his head. “Peter, I swear I didn-” he stopped the rest of his explanation as Peter started to run towards him, Erik quickly dropping to his knees to greet the boy easier. His small body crashed into Erik’s, his short arms wrapping as far around him as they could reach. Erik quickly wrapped his own around Peter, one hand placed on the boy’s head that was tucked against his shoulder. 

“I’m glad it’s you.” He heard Peter whisper. “I’m so glad it’s you .” 

Erik’s entire body began to relax in relief, the tenseness and fear of Peter’s possible rejection leaving him. His eyes closed as he tightened his hold on his son, threading his fingers through his hair. 

“I’m sorry, Peter. I’m so sorry.” He said softly, pulling Peter away slowly to look him in the face, Erik’s eyes meeting Peter’s tear-filled ones. He lightly brushed a tear on the boy’s cheek away with his thumb. 

“If I had known, I never-” He tried finding the right words to convey exactly how he felt, what he would have done.

“I never-” would have left you. Would have let you end up here? Would have let any of this happen? How could he give him a worthy enough answer. Peter did it for him.

“I know.” He replied simply with a light nod, seeming to understand exactly what Erik was trying to convey. Words weren’t always needed, Erik realized as Peter smiled sadly up at him, tears still flowing down his cheeks. Erik matched his smile with a small one of his own before pulling him back into his embrace, placing a kiss to the side of his temple before laying his cheek on top of his hair. 

Erik lost track of how long they stayed in their embrace, still in the center of the room. Finally he guided Peter back to their two cots that were still placed next to each other, Erik noticed fondly. Peter immediately nestled himself under Erik’s arm as they sat down, leaning against his side. Erik placed his hand back on his head, silently reassuring him that he wasn’t going anywhere.

The boy seemed exhausted, Erik noticing dark bags under his eyes. He was sure he himself didn’t look too much better. It seemed they had both not been resting properly the past week, understandably so. But he was more worried about his arm that had been wrapped with only a part of the blanket he seemingly had ripped off to use as a makeshift bandage. Erik pushed down the anger he felt, they didn’t even treat his arm? They couldn’t find the decency to do even that after branding him? 

“Peter.” He started in a soft voice, he knew this was a conversation Peter did not want to have. “Your arm…” Peter’s body stiffened, proving Erik’s prediction correct.

“What about it?” He asked in a toneless voice.

“They didn’t treat it.” He stated, already knowing the answer. Peter scowled and leaned forward slightly, pulling his wrapped arm protectively inward toward his chest.

“It’s fine, I took care of it.” 

Erk frowned lightly, giving a nod. “Yes, I can see that.” He said carefully before continuing. “Is it clean? Have you been changing it daily?” 

Peter glared angrily ahead, lips quivering slightly before he shook his head ‘no’. “I can’t look at it.” He whispered to himself. “They come in here, and they give me my injections. They haven’t taken me out of here since…” He broke off. “So I just covered it.” Peter finished defeatedly. 

Erik shifted slightly so he was facing toward Peter. “That’s alright, Peter.” He started. “But it’s important we clean it, to make sure it doesn’t get infected. I’ll help you, okay?” He told him gently, lightly grabbing Peter’s chin and tilting it upward to make eye contact. Peter’s worried eyes met his, and he nodded in agreement. 

“Okay.” He whispered back. Erik gave him a reassuring smile, before grabbing a cup of water leftover from breakfast. The one thing he was thankful for was the few cups of water they were each given with meals, to last them through the day. This wasn’t ideal, but it was all he had and was better than nothing.

“We’ll make this quick, alright?” Erik tried to say positively, not getting an enthused response in return but instead only a reluctant nod. Erik used the already ripped blanket to tear off another piece large enough to wrap around Peter’s thin forearm as said boy straightened his arm out.

Erik slowly unwrapped it, Peter wincing in pain as he got to the portion that was in contact with the skin. Erik whispered an apology to him as he lifted it, trying not to wince himself at the sight. The letter ‘M’ was prominent, taking up a large portion of Peter’s forearm, not difficult with his arm being so small already. It was red and blistered, but Erik was relieved to see no indication yet of infection. 

Peter wouldn’t even glance at it, his head turned away from his arm and facing the opposite direction, his face showing no emotion. Erik took in a deep breath, pushing down his own emotions before grabbing the glass of water. 

“Brace yourself, Peter.” He warned before slowly pouring the water over the burn. Peter, to his credit, did not cry out. He hissed slightly in pain, closing his eyes and clenching his fist tightly. Erik made sure to empty the cup, wanting to get the wound as clean as possible, then waited for it to dry.

He grabbed hold of Peter’s other hand while they waited for the water to dry thoroughly, giving it a light squeeze in support. Peter breathed in a deep breath and squeezed back, his head still turned away. Finally Erik let the burn breathe for a few more minutes before wrapping it gently with a fresh strip of blanket, lightly tying and securing it. 

“There we go. Good job, Peter.” Erik praised lamely, not knowing what else to say after having to put his son through even more pain. Peter didn’t reply, sitting back against the wall and leaning against Erik as he took his spot once again. 

“I’m tired.” Peter muttered quietly, gripping Erik’s shirt. Erik knew he meant much more than being just sleep deprived.

He pulled the exhausted boy in closer, placing a light kiss on top of his head before replying. “Me too.”

WEEK FIFTEEN

The past two weeks had probably been the most difficult weeks of Erik’s entire life, including the whirlwind of emotions he had gone through. He had found out amazing life-altering news from the man who had in turn altered his life for the worst. He hated that Shaw was the one who had delivered the news. And now, against all odds and reason, he was once again reunited with Peter.

Erik wished he could feel only joy and relief, and he did so overwhelmingly the instant he saw Peter, but then reality quickly set in. He knew there was a reason why he was once again placed back in the same cell as his son, and he knew it wasn’t out of the kindness of Shaw’s heart. You would need to possess one first to manage that. 

No, he knew there was an alternative motive behind this action. Perhaps to show Erik that he was honest to his word…for now. That no more harm would come to Peter as long as Erik did cooperate, and this was evidence to show that he was okay. As okay as an already traumatized child could be after being tortured and then horrifically branded in front of his newly discovered Father.

Or maybe he was doing this to be cruel. Lull him into a false sense of security before once again ripping it away. Erik was tired of thinking which one was the truth, so he decided to live in the moment he was in now and take the blessing that was this time with his son. Time that was spent discussing their newly found family. Peter’s first concern was Wanda, rightfully so.

“I’m certain he doesn’t know about her.” Erik had reassured him the morning after he had arrived back in the cell, Peter waking up from his exhaustion-fueled sleep and asking in a panic about his sister.

Erik explained to him that there hadn’t been any evidence that Shaw knew anything about Peter’s twin and his daughter who he hadn’t even met. That if he did, he would have used that knowledge immediately for his own gain. Peter nodded, trying to reassure himself.

“Okay…okay. That means she’s for sure not being held by them, then. Or any of their other facilities?” He questioned worryingly. Erik nodded in agreement. 

“I don’t believe so, or her genetic results would have shown up in their database along with ours.” He theorized. 

“That’s good then…” Peter trailed off, uncertain. Because he still had no idea where she was, or if she was okay. Erik hoped that she was somewhere safe, his best bet and guess being she was placed with a foster family. The twins' history of foster families was not a positive one, but it was a hundred times better than being in his and Peter’s current situation. 

“I hope she’s okay.” Peter said, looking down at his hands in thought and worry. Erik placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly. 

“Me too.” He replied.

He prayed she was okay, that she was safe and that he would someday get the chance to meet her. “We’ll find her, Peter. I swear we will.” Erik promised, not knowing if it was one that he even had a chance of keeping. But he had to hope he could, he had to keep Peter believing that it was possible they would someday escape this hell. He needed Peter to not give up and to stay strong. And he was. God, he was the strongest person Erik had ever met. 

The week had them back on their usual schedules, each one of them once again being taken out of the cell physically for their injections every other day. The first time either one was taken being extremely stress inducing for the other left behind waiting in the cell, not knowing if the one taken was coming back. 

Peter finally had a proper bandage on his burn. ‘Didn’t want their subject to potentially lose their arm. ’ Erik thought to himself angrily.

Midway through the week Peter asked if they could play a game of chess, which Erik enthusiastically responded yes to. This was the first time Peter had shown some positive emotion and incentive to want to do something other than wallow and sleep. They were minutes into the game before Peter spoke up.

“Will Magd-” Peter stopped before seeming to correct himself “Will your wife be angry?” He asked, staring down at the board. Erik looked at him, moving his hands to grip Peter’s own lightly and successfully pulling the boy’s gaze to meet his own. 

“Peter.” He started in a soft voice. “I am telling you, with all the confidence I have in my wife from knowing her almost my entire life, that she will be everything but angry.” He reassured him firmly, squeezing his hands to make his point. Peter stared back at him. 

“But how can you know that for sure?” He questioned worryingly. Erik let out a light sigh, how could he explain to Peter that he knew her better than he sometimes thought he knew himself? That she was the most caring and forgiving person he knew, next to Charles. 

“How do you think Wanda will react?” Erik turned the question around on Peter, who furrowed his brows as he puzzled over the question.

“She would be happy.” He finally replied confidently. Erik gave him a smile, partly from relief. He hoped more than anything that she would be happy to know that he was her Father.

“How do you know?” He asked Peter the same question he had asked Erik. Peter gave a cheeky smile before replying.

“It’s a twin thing.” 

Erik chuckled. “Well that’s not fair.” He replied with a light hearted smile. “You know her.” He continued. “You know her better than you know anyone else.” 

Peter nodded in agreement. “Yeah, of course I do.” 

“But-” Peter started before Erik had a chance to speak. “You’re springing the news to your wife that you have two kids with another woman.” Erik tried not to gape, that was rather bold of him to say. But it was a warranted concern, he had to admit.

“I-well, yes.” He started. “But we weren’t together at the time.” He finished lamely.

Peter raised a brow. “And so that makes it okay then? To her? She won’t be jealous, or angry?” Gods, why did this child have to be so inquisitive and analytical? Erik let out a long sigh before replying.

“No, she won’t be. She had relationships too, in the time we weren’t together.” Erik said, really not wanting to dive into his and Magda’s past dating history. 

“There are no hard feelings or jealousy between the two of us for the past we had that did not include one another.” He continued. “Just regret from me for letting it happen in the first place.” Erik finished, forlorn resignation in his voice. His regrets for pushing her away for revenge once again plaguing his mind. 

Peter gripped his hand to grab his attention. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” He trailed off, apologizing for the turn the conversation had taken. Erik shook his head. 

“Don’t be, Peter. It’s a valid concern.” Peter nodded before speaking again.

“But hey, if you didn’t go off hunting Nazi’s then you wouldn’t have had me and Wanda!” He pointed out, and Erik gave a wide smile at the fact. He was completely right.

“Magda is convinced that absolutely everything happens for a reason. I used to not believe her.” Erik stated sadly. “But now…now, I am a full believer. I think only fate could have brought us together, to this cell, to this moment in time.” He said confidently. 

Peter gave a small and hopeful smile. “She sounds nice…I hope I get to meet her.” Erik tried to look positive. He hoped he would too, that his newly formed family would all get to meet each other in person someday soon. He had so much time to make up for, so much to still learn about each one of his children. 

“You will.” He replied with certainty.

WEEK SIXTEEN

Erk cherished the last week he had spent with his son. His son. It sometimes still sounded strange to him, but more often than not it sounded…right. He had a son, and he was perfect. Erik could scarcely believe that he had a part in creating this amazing being. And Wanda…wherever she may be at the moment, he knew she was just as incredible as her brother.

Peter seemed to have more questions than ever now about Erik’s life and about the people in it. Erik knew it was because he now finally saw himself as a permanent fixture in Eriks life. It made him sad when he thought about that, because he had already planned for Peter and his sister to be one the second he had promised the boy he would help him find his sister. 

He never asked about his birth mother, Natalya. And Erik did not want to push him on the matter. Peter didn’t seem to care about knowing about her before he had even found out who she was. Erik thought back to his nonchalant comment about her leaving him and Wanda at an orphanage. He could tell from that comment alone how much animosity and bitterness Peter had for her. He did not blame him, but a part of Erik could also not put all the blame on Natalya either. Though he wished desperately still that she had just told him about their children. But he couldn’t think about the past or what he could have done differently, he could only think about the future.

The future was looking quite bleak at the moment, and Erik had no idea what could happen next. Would he be taken from Peter again? Would Shaw show up himself and destroy the little happiness that Erik was able to find in the past week? He hated not being in control and not being able to protect his own child. 

He tried to keep a calm and cool facade for Peter’s sake, playing a game of chess whenever the boy felt up to it and answering all questions he had about his life and the mansion. He could tell Peter was still nervous about how he would now be perceived by Erik’s friends and wife, even though he could tell him time and time again that he had nothing to fear or worry about. Erik knew it was something that he would feel until he could see in person that he truly would be accepted, both him and his sister.

Erik only hoped that Peter had a chance at all to be able to experience meeting everyone in his life that he so often talked about now. That he had a future at the mansion and soon to be school. That he would be able to experience life as a normal child, despite all the hardships he had already gone through in his short life. He wanted to give his children the world and everything they so very much deserved, but it was easier said than done.

This week marked Erik’s fourth month in this hell, and what he estimated to be Peter’s possible tenth. There was no end in sight and his likelihood of being rescued seemed as far out of reach as ever. Now that Shaw knew he was here, he suspected there would be even more precautions taken than before. He was proven correct in the worst way near the end of the week.

“I’m never gonna win.” Peter sighed in frustration, glaring down at the makeshift chess board. Erik held back a chuckle. 

“You will, Peter. It takes a long time to master this game.” Erik reassured him after he had checkmated him once again. 

“I’m not used to things ‘taking a long time’.” He complained, setting the pieces aside. Erik smiled and reached over the board to ruffle his hair playfully, earning a light hearted laugh from Peter in return.

“I know you aren’t.” He responded to Peter’s comment. “I have no doubt that you will best me someday soon, so let me keep my pride a bit longer.” 

Peter gave a smirk. “Who has the winning record between you and Charles?”

“Me, of course.” Erik wasn’t going to tell him that he and Charles had stopped keeping score years ago. Peter gave a laugh and Erik smiled at the sound. The locks to the door sounded, cutting his laughter short as they both turned their heads toward the sound. 

Erik had already been taken for his daily injections earlier that day, so there shouldn’t have been any activity until tomorrow when it was then Peter’s turn. They both stood up from where they were seated.

Three of the usual guards walked in, one holding a bag. Erik’s breath caught, were they finally taking him back? Had Shaw returned? He shouldn’t be surprised, he told himself for the past two weeks that this was a very real possibility, that he would once again be taken away from Peter. His suspicion ended up being the opposite.

“Come on, kid.” The guard who Erik only knew went by the letter ‘K’ said before walking over and grabbing Peter by the arm, guiding him to the center of the room. This didn’t make any sense, Peter’s injections hadn’t stopped so he wasn’t being taken for experimentations.

“Wait. Where are you taking him?” Erik demanded before he could stop himself. The guard who wasn’t holding Peter scoffed before replying.

“None of your fucking business.” Erik bit back a scathing response that would probably get him beaten if he uttered it. He decided to focus on the one currently holding Peter, the one who happened to be the same guard who had warned Erik after the attack on Peter that the boy could possibly be separated from Erik if he didn’t calm down.

“Please.” Erik pleaded simply. ‘K’ seemed to have a quick internal battle with himself before giving a sigh and answering. 

“He’s being relocated. Different facility.”

“God damnit, K.” The other guard complained. But Erik paid him no mind, his mind trying to process the information just given to him. Peter had no trouble processing the information at all, a panicked look taking over his face.

Peter shook his head frantically, starting to try and pull away from the guard holding his arm. 

“No, no, no, no. ” He wailed helplessly, pulling harder against the guards grip. Erik stepped forward toward Peter, only to be stopped by the other guard not currently holding the young boy. 

“Please, just let me at least say goodbye.” Erik said quickly, just wanting to try and calm Peter down. He looked at ‘K’, trying to reason with him again. “ Please. ” He begged desperately.

‘K’ looked up at the ceiling in frustration. “Shit. Fine, you have one minute.” He said before letting go of Peter, who immediately ran to Erik. The other guard cursed out loud, looking to the door with impatience. 

“You’re a dumbass, K.” 

K rolled his eyes before replying.

“Shut up, J. It’s one minute. Kid won’t be as difficult now during transport.” He reasoned.

Erik knelt down to intercept Peter as he crashed into his body, wrapping his arms tightly around Erik’s neck. He pulled Peter away slightly so he could look him in the eye, tears already flowing down the boy's face. 

“I don’t wanna go, please don’t make me go.” He whispered to Erik desperately. Erik placed his hands on both sides of Peter’s face, wiping away the rapidly falling tears before speaking to him in a steady and calm voice.

“Listen to me, Peter. You are strong, you are so strong. I need you to keep being that, okay?” Erik nodded, before placing his forehead against Peter’s. 

Peter gave a sob, his eyes closing tightly. “ I’m not .” He whispered back brokenly. Erik pulled away slightly, giving him a small and watery smile.

“Oh, Peter. You are the strongest person I know.” He said softly before pulling him back into a hug, placing a hand on the back of his head. Peter’s face was nestled in Erik’s shoulder as he hugged the man back just as fiercely. 

“Remember what I told you?” Erik whispered quietly so only Peter could hear him, referring to the mansion’s address he had made Peter memorize. Peter nodded lightly in response, still crying. “Good. That’s good.” Erik answered, squeezing Peter tightly. ‘K’ coughed lightly. “Hurry it up man.”

Erik closed his eyes in frustration. “I am so so proud of you.” Erik said softly, holding back tears of his own. “And I love you, Peter. I love you so much.” He had just realized this was the first time he had told his son that, and he hated that it was in this moment that he had waited to. Peter gave a sob at the confession, his body shaking. 

“I love you too, Dad.” Peter’s muffled voice said brokenly. And if Erik’s heart could break into a million pieces right then and there it would have. He kissed the side of Peter’s temple firmly in response. The first time he heard any of his children call him that, and it was while they were being ripped away from his arms. Literally.

‘J’, the other guard who was now frustrated with the prolonged goodbye, walked up and grabbed Peter’s arm, forcefully pulling him away from Erik’s embrace. Peter did not fight him this time, seeming to accept that this was happening one way or another. His wet eyes made contact with Erik’s one last time, and Erik tried to give him a light smile. 

“It’s going to be okay.” He lied once again. Peter didn’t answer him, taking in a deep stuttering breath before they put the bag over his head. Finally, they led him out of the room, the door shutting and locking loudly behind them.

Erik stayed kneeling in the center of the room, staring resolutely at the door. He had lost everything now, the one anchor he had in this hell was ripped away from him. He had failed him in every way possible, and there was absolutely nothing he could do. 

Erik didn’t hear himself scream, he felt the sound echo through him though. The anger, pain and frustration making its way out of his body. Yet the feelings still staying with him. He didn’t notice when or how he made his way back to his and Peter’s cot, sitting down again and gripping Peter’s blanket in his hand. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and placed his face in his hands. He tried to be strong for Peter, and now he was gone. He was gone and Erik could let himself be weak, let himself grieve the relationship he had barely gotten to build with his son.

Erik cried.

Chapter Text

PETER I

WEEK ONE/FORTY

Peter was a logical boy, he was. His sister would disagree, maybe telling him something along the lines like ‘Logical people don’t shoplift Peter!’. And yeah, he guessed that a normal person would think like that, but both he and his sister were anything but normal. Even without their powers they would have been outcasts. Or maybe they wouldn’t? Maybe their Mother would have wanted to keep them, or at least one of the many foster families they had been placed with over their short life spans. 

He didn’t like dwelling too long on those thoughts, especially the ‘what if’s?’. Neither did Wanda, they both instead thought and talked about the future. What they would do once they were old enough to be on their own. All the places they would go, courtesy of Peter, once he perfected running successfully on water. 

‘First you need to learn how to swim, Peter.’ Wanda had pointed out, rolling her eyes in exasperation. She was always there to keep him level headed, or at least tried to. And Peter was there to keep her grounded, especially when her powers would go haywire, usually flowing with the waves that were her emotions. They always had each other's back, no matter what. That was until the day she was taken, Peter reassuringly whispering to her that he would find her that night.

He hadn't.

He had failed her and the promise he made. Searching every night for two weeks before he himself was then taken. 

Peter was never a trusting person, the only person he did trust wholeheartedly being Wanda. They both had some awful experiences with several foster parents, but they had gotten through it together, never being placed in one home very long. So when Peter was captured and brought to this…this place, he felt more lost than ever.

He was completely alone for the first time in his short life, and he was terrified. He hadn’t felt this scared since the first day his powers had manifested three years ago. He knew he was a mutant, having silver hair practically since the day he was born, but it was still a shock when he manifested and the world slowed around him. 

This prison though was far different than the foster homes he had once considered to be prisons of their own. Here, he was completely stripped of his powers. Here, he thought he could trust the fellow captured mutants that were placed in the cell with him. Instead, he had fought for his life several times to survive, not counting the torturous experimentations he had also been put through.  

By the time six months had passed he had been exhausted. Exhausted of fighting and keeping hope that he would ever get to leave, that he would someday get to see Wanda again. He didn’t even know where she was, or if she was okay. Anger and acceptance instead took over. He accepted that he was stuck here, but he was so full of anger at everyone.

The last prisoner that was put in his cell during what Peter had estimated was month four had been nice. But he wasn’t fooled. Peter hadn’t uttered a word to the man, not after what the last one had tried to do…

To his credit, the man never tried to harm Peter and gave him his space. It didn’t matter either way though, the man being taken out after two weeks and never returning. Peter basked in the solitude once again, glad that at least he didn’t have to worry about someone trying to kill him in his sleep again.

Then a couple months later another prisoner was put in his cell. Not just a normal mutant off the street, no, this was the famous Magneto. Of course Peter recognized him, though only after the man had introduced himself and tried to shake his hand. Peter had reacted purely out of instinct at that point, immediately becoming defensive.

The man was a terrorist, or former one, but still, he was dangerous and Peter took no chances. He shut himself off, not offering conversation or any inkling that he wanted to communicate. And Erik had given him his space, though the man still talked anyway. Peter tried to ignore him, figuring the man would be gone in a few weeks tops. He kept his guard up though, especially when he started receiving the injections. Peter stayed ready, expecting a reaction from him, voices, hallucinations, or both.

But weeks passed and neither happened, much to Peter’s relief. He listened to the man’s stories about his life and the people in it that he so obviously cared for. Peter’s own heart ached as he listened, his mind would drift to Wanda again. He didn’t dare tell the man anything about his own life, there was no point in forming a connection in this place. Even Peter knew that was foolish. 

The fifth week started and he was still in the cell with Peter, the longest he had anyone share it with him. Erik never pushed Peter to reveal anything about himself, not too hard anyway. Then to his surprise Erik had left some of his own food for Peter after he got back from a higher dosing of the suppressant. And for nothing in return. It baffled Peter.

He had slowly started opening up more to the man, that act alone having gained some of Peter’s respect at the least. Perhaps he wasn’t so bad? Maybe he really did want to help Peter? He didn’t let his thoughts and feelings get ahead of him though.

Then two weeks later that completely changed, and Erik gained absolutely all of Peter’s trust in an instant. Peter had never seen anyone so angry before on behalf of another person, no one except Wanda. And the crazy part was that Peter wasn’t scared of him in the slightest. Not even as the man had the full intent of strangling Peter’s attacker to death. Things immediately changed after that night.

Peter considered him his friend, who wouldn’t after that act? He had almost slipped and called him his ‘best’ friend once, that would have been embarrassing. Also Peter would never hear the end of it from Wanda if he had and she found out. 

He had broken his own rule and got attached. Then they had found out that Shaw was the one behind this organization. Peter remembered the look that came over Erik’s face when he uttered the name. Erik was taken, gone for three days. Peter feared he was gone forever, relocated or worse…dead.

Then…then came the day that Peter would forever have nightmares about, taking the place of the other horror’s he had already gone through in his hell. He had never felt such a whirlwind of emotions that were felt within those fifteen or so minutes. Finding out that Erik was his Father , and not even getting the chance to properly process the information before Shaw took it upon himself to forever leave his mark on Peter, in the most brutal and cruel way possible.

Peter thought for sure he would never see Erik again after that, especially after six days had passed. Then, to his utter and complete surprise, Erik-his Dad, was transported back to his cell. He asked him if it was true and if he knew about him, and the possible answers terrified him. Because what if he somehow did know all along? Why didn’t he tell Peter? Maybe he was ashamed of him? Peter tortured himself with these questions over and over for almost a week.

He didn’t know though, and that was all Peter needed to hear. He didn’t care that he had to find out in the worst way possible, or that this was all so astonishingly hard to believe. But he knew deep down it was true, he couldn’t explain it but he knew. And he was so glad it was Erik. This man cared about him for weeks now, before even truly knowing Peter. He had saved his life.

He knew it was extremely suspicious that his Dad was put back in the cell with him, and he could see it on Erik’s face that he thought the same. Neither one said anything about it though, taking this time they had with each other as a gift. Only two weeks later their suspicions were proved correct. Though they had both thought that Erik would be the one transferred, not Peter. 

Bringing Peter to this moment now, sitting in the back of what he could only assume was a van or small truck of some kind, he couldn’t be sure because he couldn’t actually see, the bag still placed over his face. He knew there was at least one guard sitting across from him in the back, and two in the front, taking up the driver and passenger seat. He could hear them too, so he assumed there must be bars or some sort of window connecting the front and back.

He tried to hold back tears of frustration, they wouldn’t help him now. He thought back to Erik’s last words to him, telling him to keep being strong. Then he called him ‘Dad’. Peter hadn’t even realized it at the time, but he was glad he got to say it to him nonetheless, it may be the only time he ever got to.

The drive had been going on for about thirty minutes now, the guards talking about what sounded like sports. Peter paid no mind to the conversation, trying to keep his mind from wandering to the next worst case scenario. What if he was being taken to wherever Shaw was? He tried to calm himself.

He didn’t even have time to try before a loud curse from one of the guards filled the cabin, the vehicle jolting roughly to the side. Peter tried to steady himself, or at least grab onto something but his hands were still handcuffed and the bag still over his eyes. ‘ I hope I get to see my Dad again’ was his last desperate thought before his head slammed against the wall behind him and he lost consciousness.

----------

Panic was the first emotion that came to Peter as he startled awake, followed quickly by confusion. He could see now, anyway, so that was good. He sat up slowly, wincing as his head pounded in pain. He immediately began to inspect his surroundings, coming to the quick conclusion that yes, they had experienced a wreck. A bad one at that.

He realized that the van was now completely on its side, Peter currently sitting on top of the side wall now that he had been previously leaning against. The guard who was across from him earlier was now lying on his side next to Peter, about a foot away. Peter continued looking around, trying to peer over into the front of the van, and seeing part of one of the guard’s bodies up front, but also no movement from either one of them. He turned around to look behind him and noticed that one of the doors to the back was ajar.

He froze for a moment, realizing immediately what this rare opportunity meant. It meant a possible escape. Peter quickly took action and started crawling towards the guard a foot away from him. He studied him for a long moment. He wasn’t breathing…

Peter took a deep calming breath in, willing himself to do what he had to next. He slowly moved closer to the now dead guard, not an easy task in his power suppressing cuffs, but necessary if he wanted to get rid of them. He zeroed in fast on what he was searching for, the small electronic key that all the guards carried on them for unlocking the cuffs. The trick was that they could only be activated while the designated guard was touching the key. Peter could make it work though.

He grabbed the key, then bit back a grimace as he grabbed the deceased guard's hand and placed it around the key, successfully activating it. He quickly maneuvered the cuffs in the correct position, lining them up so the key activated them. It worked, the cuffs unlocking and falling off of Peter’s wrists. 

He let out a sigh of relief, step one was done. Step two was next, and looked to be a lot more difficult. He didn’t waste any time though. Peter had no idea how much time had passed while he had lost consciousness, and he had to assume that they would start looking soon if they weren’t already. He made his way to the back doors that had been forced open during the crash and shoved them open. 

Peter squinted as his eyes adjusted to the light outside, and all the white. It was snowing…heavily. He had no idea what the outside climate ever was, the van having left out of a garage earlier. He didn’t give himself time to worry about it, or where they could possibly be located at the moment. His main priority now was getting this collar off.

The van had landed on its side in a ditch just off the road, he guessed they had maybe hit a patch of ice. Peter made his way to the front of the van, then slowly climbed up the snowy ditch. He got all the way up and stood, facing the now level with him van. He’d have to jump a bit to make it to the passenger side, but it was doable. 

He braced himself before leaping over, sliding roughly on top of the passenger side door but being able to grab onto the handle and steady himself. Peter took another breath before grabbing the handle and successfully pulling it open, thanking whoever was listening that it happened to be unlocked. He peered down into the front cabin, looking for any signs of life. He couldn’t see any from his view point. What he could see happened to be exactly what he was looking for though.

The pin to the collar. Only one guard in a transfer group was allowed to carry a pin to the power suppressing collar every prisoner was donned with, and it was protocol that they were in the least contact possible to the prisoner being transferred.

“Okay, Peter. Almost there.” He whispered to himself before lowering himself on his stomach and reaching as far in as he could towards the guards waist band. He was able to grasp the pin, pulling it up quickly to his chest. Now he needed the guard's hand, the pins working the same as the keys with the cuffs. 

Peter let out a breath, siking himself up again to grab another dead guy's hand. He reached down once more and was finally able to grasp the guard's sleeve. He slowly pulled the guard's arm up as far as it could go, then finally had the chance to grab his hand. Peter had to lower himself down a bit more to be able to get the collar close enough, causing him to be almost upside down completely now.

“Come on, come on.” He muttered to himself, placing the pin in contact with the guard's hand. He braced himself before shoving the pin in the hole of the collar. Then, to his utter relief, he heard it click. Peter quickly pulled himself up, sitting up right on the side of the van before frantically pulling apart the collar, it coming off successfully in two pieces.

Peter stopped and just stared at the two pieces of the collar he was now holding in his hands. These two thin pieces that caused him to be powerless…helpless. That’s all it took.

“I’m free.” He said softly outloud in disbelief. Erik’s words flooded back into his mind, the plan he told him to follow if he ever found himself in this scenario. The situation that Peter told him never had a chance of happening. He was never so happy to be wrong about something. 

Peter slid off the side of the van, climbing back up the ditch on the side of the main road. He looked down toward the direction they had been driving from, the direction that led back to the prison. 

“I need you to head straight to the school.” Were the exact orders Erik had given him. 

Peter bit his lip, deep in thought. He had to try, this could be his only chance. He had to try to save his Dad. 

“Sorry, Dad.” Peter apologized before trying his powers. His shoulders slumped in immediate disappointment, not even being able to move his hands at super speed. Of course he should have known his powers wouldn’t have returned right away. It usually took days once the suppressant stopped being injected. And his last injection had been yesterday. Added to that his extreme malnutrition, it would take a while for him to be at even a minimal level of power.

He now had a new challenge, and the attempted rescue would have to wait. First thing he needed to do was get off the main road, and fast. They would most likely be searching for the missing group and vehicle. Peter shivered, finally feeling the chill. His thin long sleeve shirt doing nothing to keep him warm. He walked quickly into the back of the van, maneuvering the dead guards jacket off his body.

He really didn’t want to wear a dead guys jacket, but he didn’t exactly have a lot of options at the moment. It was snowing heavier now, this was good. It would quickly cover up any tracks left by him.

Peter set off, walking away from the main road. He could very well be walking into a never ending wilderness. And wouldn’t that be something? To miraculously end up in the same cell as his Father, then escaping, only to freeze to death in the middle of nowhere. 

Peter grit his teeth together as he kept walking, pulling the jacket tighter around his small body. No, he wasn’t dying out here. Not after all of this. His powers would come back, slowly and not full power, but they would come back enough to keep him alive, to give him a chance.

He walked for hours, the snow not letting up and making it difficult for him to maneuver through, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. Night finally fell and he kept on walking.

Erik had told Peter that he was the strongest person he knew. Peter didn’t believe that for a second, but he could try to be. For his Dad’s sake, he had to try. He finally came to a stop, squinting his eyes to see if he was actually seeing what he thought he was. A light. Many lights, from what seemed to be a single street.

He quickened his pace to get a closer view. Ten more minutes of walking and he could see clearly now what seemed to be a small village. Peter let out an almost hysterical laugh of disbelief. He walked on, finally getting to the outskirts of the village. He didn’t dare walk on the main road, no matter how small it may be. He knew this would be one of the first places they would search.

No, he had to make absolutely sure he stayed hidden. Now where was the best place to do that here? There was not a soul outside, it being probably close to at least two in the morning now. Peter would use this to his advantage. He walked quietly in between buildings, wishing desperately that his powers were functional right now. He finally eyed a building named ‘Edgar’s hiking and outdoors shop’. That would work.

He made his way to the back of the shop, finding the back door and a window next to it. “Sorry.” He whispered before taking off his jacket and digging in the nearby snow, finding a decent size rock. He broke the window, muffling the sound as much as he could with the jacket. He reached in and unlocked it, sliding it open and climbing in. 

He was immediately met with a wave of warmth, the feeling almost overwhelming. He desperately needed to get out of the clothes and shoes he was in, having lost feeling in his feet hours ago. The thin shoes provided to prisoners were definitely not meant for outdoor wear. The room he had entered seemed to be a storage room, perhaps where they kept extra inventory. Peter made his way into the main area of the store.

It wasn’t very large and consisted of one open area, but he knew right away he had made the right decision. The store was full of supplies that he was currently in desperate need of. Pants, shoes, socks, jackets and more winter gear. Peter could have cried in relief, if he wasn’t currently freezing and starving. 

He quickly set off in search of more sustainable clothing and footwear, finding a suitable pair of pants and a long sleeve thermal shirt which he quickly changed into. He took off his soaking wet socks, wincing in pain at his now warming feet. It was a wonder that he didn’t get frostbite. He slipped on some thick socks, sighing in relief at finally being warm. Now that he was dressed and not at risk of hypothermia, he set off toward the register area.

He gave a light laugh at what he found, a cooler with an array of drinks, and next to it a shelf full of protein bars and a few varieties of chips. He quickly grabbed a sports drink and opened it, gulping desperately until it was empty. He hadn’t realized just how thirsty and hungry he actually was until he stopped and his adrenaline tapered off.

He sat down, opening a couple of protein bars and trying to eat them at a slower pace. Now that he finally had a minute to think, he tried not to let panic start to set in. He needed a plan, quickly. They were most likely already searching the surrounding areas for him, and this town would be a sure place they would target. But he couldn’t just set off again, not without a known destination or powers. 

First thing, find out where the hell he even was. Peter stood up, walking behind the register and started to look through the numerous drawers they had. He found an envelope with the shop's address on it. The town name read ‘Conklin’ Peter furrowed his brow at the name, then read further. 

“Canada?” He exclaimed. Definitely a long way from his ‘home’ in DC. Peter grabbed a map from the shelf next to the snacks, looking to see exactly where he was. Great, basically the middle of Canada then. He calculated the distance to Westchester County, New York. Roughly Twenty-five hundred miles.

Peter sat back down with a sigh, that was a lot, especially with his slowly returning energy levels. He had no choice but to wait it out here for the time being. He glanced at the clock on the wall nearby, it reading almost four in the morning. Peter quickly began formulating a plan in his head.

He’d wait it out here, he decided, right in this store. He stood back up and grabbed a couple of backpacks, shoving all evidence of his old attire into one and numerous drinks and almost all the protein bars in the other. He shoved on a pair of boots and also grabbed a thick winter jacket off a rack, bringing it with him. He walked back into the storage room and began scouting the ceiling above. 

This wasn’t a normal commercial building with the usual tiles making up the ceilings, but there was a string hanging down that looked like a possible pull down ladder to an attic. Peter grabbed a chair and moved it under so he could reach, giving it a firm pull. He was proven correct. 

It led up to an attic area, full of even more boxes. The best thing was that it looked like it wasn’t visited very often at all, dust caking several of the boxes and items. Peter gave a triumphant smile as he began moving his supplies up the latter, this would do perfectly for now. He just had to hold up here for a few days, that was all. And pray that he wasn’t found.

He began to settle in, finding a spot that was the most hidden from view just in case the attic was opened at some point during his stay. It wasn’t as warm as below in the store, but it wasn’t unbearably cold. He wrapped his jacket snuggly around him as he leaned back against a box, his body finally crashing from the long adrenaline rush. Peter didn’t remember falling asleep.

Distant voices woke him from his slumber with a start, and his breath quickened in response. He glanced at the small circular window, noticing that it was now sunlight and that the store owners must have finally arrived. Peter crouched down, ear to the floor board to try and hear better.

“-must have been desperate, dear. The only clothing missing is children’s size! And food and drinks. Nothing else of real value.” An older female voice was speaking. 

“I know, I know…so I guess we’re in agreement then, Amelia.” An older male voice chimed in.

“No need to report it. Not if the poor thing needed those supplies that badly.” Amelia replied, to who Peter guessed was Edgar, the owner and namesake of the store.

Peter felt horrible for stealing from these people now. He sat up slowly and leaned back, looking ahead miserably, his conscience eating at him. Sure, he had stolen before, plenty of times actually. But never from nice people! Just from large convenience stores, corporations that wouldn’t even know what they missed.

He vowed to himself that he would someday repay them. He couldn’t believe that they weren’t even going to report this, but he was deeply grateful that they chose not to. There was a real chance that if they did then Shaw and his men would come looking here first. 

Peter slept on and off the rest of the day, finding it difficult to stay awake after the energy he had spent the night before. When he did wake up, he would lay on his side and listen to the conversations held in the store below. They were all so…normal. Talks about the weather, or about the person’s family. Peter marveled at how simple and peaceful some people’s lives were. He longed for that normalcy.

The day came to an end, the owner’s closing for the night and silence once again fell over the small store and attic. Peter took this time to explore the room he was currently taking refuge in, looking in the numerous boxes around him. He found one full of blankets, quickly adding them to his makeshift bed. He also found a small battery powered lamp, thankful for the small amount of light he now had. He made sure to block the small and only window in the attic with a blanket first before turning it on, not wanting to draw attention in any way to his current location. 

He ate his dinner, which consisted of a couple of protein bars and some beef jerky along with a sports drink. He made sure to pace and ration the supplies he had, not wanting to steal anything else while he was here. After he ate he tested his powers again, trying to move his hands at superspeed. It worked…slightly, anyway. He definitely wasn’t near full power yet, that might not happen for weeks. But he just needed to be fast enough to enter the facility holding his Father undetected. 

He estimated one more day or so, then he’d really try and run freely for the first time in ten months. He willed himself to stay in the attic, even though all he wanted to do was try to test his theory at that very moment. Rest and nutrition though, that was the quickest way to get back to full power. Though protein bars weren’t the best option, it was all he had. The more his body recovered and weaned off the suppressants, the faster his metabolism would start converting the food into energy that his body naturally used up at an accelerated rate. 

The one downside of his powers was the almost constant need for food and nutrients, it was the reason he had to steal so often. No way could any of the foster homes he had been placed in keep up with his appetite. But he had adapted, and he would do the same now.

The next two days passed by peacefully, and Peter took the time to think about what he needed to do next. He was getting low on food and drinks, so tonight would be the night he would finally leave. After three days of staying in this store, and about four days since the incident that resulted in his freedom. 

His powers weren’t fully back yet, but he knew that they were back to an extent that he could run undetected in short bursts. This would have to do, he couldn’t stay here any longer without the risk of being found.

That night, he packed one backpack that contained the rest of his food and drink rations. He stuffed his second one that was filled with his old clothes and shoes in one of the boxes nearby, thinking it wouldn’t be discovered for a few years at least. He opened the hatch and climbed down the ladder into the backroom, and quietly closed the door behind him after saying a silent ‘thank you’ to the owners who never reported him.

He decided his best bet was to loosely follow the roads, a couple hundred yards away of course. He would start off slower at first, as to not waste his energy reserve too fast. He took a deep breath then slipped into superspeed, what he had grown to be so very familiar with since the age of five and had been deprived of for the last ten months. 

He couldn’t help but smile as he ran and the rest of the world slowed around him. This…this is what peace was for him. The feeling of complete freedom. Like he was the only person in the world, and in a sense he was. He was the only person in the world living and experiencing everything around him in an entirely different perspective and time than any other living being. And it was amazing.

He made an educated guess at one of the road turns, taking a look at the map he had with him and remembering the direction he had arrived from the forest to the small town. He ran alongside the road and then just as quickly came to a stop, barbed wire, a gate, and a small security shack coming into view. 

This was obviously it, Peter concluded. He’d have to be very careful from now onward, only having part of a plan. He still didn’t know exactly where his Dad was located in the building, only remembering from his own experiences during transfers that their cell was likely several stories underground. 

He ran up behind the shack, preparing himself to knock the security guard unconscious. His plan was quickly deemed useless though when he discovered the shack to be completely empty. He frowned, thoroughly confused now. No way they would leave the gate completely unguarded. Peter ran up to the entrance, making sure to stay in superspeed just in case. He pushed against the gate, it opening with no resistance at all.

“Oh no.” Peter whispered in realization before speeding to the main building and testing its main door, which also opened immediately.

“No, no, no! ” He growled frustratingly, now running into every room of the building. Every empty room.

They had moved everything and everyone out, relocated them all, Peter realized defeatedly. How could he have been so naive? Of course they would! They probably thought he would alert Charles, or some other authority. They surely had back-up plans for these scenarios and had made the decision the second they found out Peter was missing.

He quickly made the decision to not stay here any longer, just in case they had prepared for him deciding to come back and attempt this failed rescue mission. Peter sped off the facility grounds, about a mile out before stopping and collapsing in the middle of the snowy forest. He sat on the ground, face buried in his knees as he unsuccessfully tried to hold back tears.

He failed his Father, and now he had no idea where he was taken. Just like Wanda, his only family was lost and he was alone once again. Peter sat up straight, wiping his eyes dry. No, not his only family. Not according to his Dad, anyway. 

“1407 Graymalkin Lake, Westchester County, New York.” Peter said to himself, repeating the address Erik had told him.

No, he wasn’t alone. 

WEEK TWO

Peter had a plan, or at least a rough draft of one in his head after meticulously studying the map that he held in his hands of North America. He estimated he would probably be able to maybe run up to six hundred miles a day at his current power and energy levels, but even that was pushing it. He could make it work though. He had roughly about twenty-six hundred miles to Westchester County, New York.

So he figured he could most likely make the trip in four days, give or take. As long as he stayed hydrated and had the adequate amount of nutrients for his energy levels to stay up at a sustainable level. He carefully measured the distances in between numerous cities that he planned to stop and rest in, finally deciding that the plan was fleshed out enough. 

His first stretch would be almost six hundred miles exactly, just a bit under at five-hundred and ninety-two miles. He wouldn’t even make it out of Canada on the first day, just making it to a town called Regina. 

Peter was eager to get a move on though. To get as far away from this prison as he could. He quickly ate the rest of his protein bars and drinks, hoping it’d be enough to get him to his next destination. Then he ran. 

He kept at a slow and steady pace…well, slow for him. He was running only about a hundred miles an hour or so. But he hadn’t even had real food for almost a week now, so it was better safe than sorry. He arrived without any complications in about six hours. Tired, but not exhausted thankfully.

Peter smiled tiredly to himself in triumph, proud that he had at least stuck to this plan so far and that the first part had gone right. Now he needed some food and rest for the remainder of the day, deciding that traveling during the night would be the best option. 

He slipped into superspeed, entering a small convenience store unnoticed and taking about a half dozen or so hot dogs from a stand inside, along with a few drinks and supplies. He stuffed everything in his backpack before speeding back into the woods a few miles outside of town. He made himself a small fire using a lighter he had also taken along with his food and drinks, and then finally sat down to begin eating.

He tried to eat slowly, savoring the taste of the first real food he had since escaping the prison. He could feel his energy replenishing slowly as he ate, though it would only last for so long, even when he wasn’t using his powers. But he had also taken some more protein bars, reluctantly. He was honestly getting tired of them, but they provided quick and convenient meals and energy when needed. 

He added some more wood to the fire before leaning back against a tree stump, pulling his jacket closer and shutting his eyes, quickly falling asleep. 

He dreamt of the day Shaw revealed to him that Erik was his Father, the day he branded him. Peter woke with a start, grabbing at his now aching arm. That was another thing altogether…his scar. It wasn’t even fully a scar yet, still not all the way healed. And Peter had refused to take the bandage off himself and look at it.

He couldn’t. Everytime he looked at it, he was filled with shame and anger. Shame that he was used as a tool against his Father, as just another way to manipulate him and cause him pain. Peter took in a deep calming breath, willing the memory away. He didn’t have time to think and cry about the past right now. The more time he took, the longer his Dad was in danger, and the further he got from being rescued.

Night had fallen and Peter took out his map, looking at the next destination as he ate a few of his protein bars. Alexandria, Minnesota was the next stop. Six-hundred and sixteen miles this time, a little more than last. But he also had more energy now.

Six hours later and he repeated the same steps as before, taking what he needed and finding a secluded place outside of city limits and taking time to replenish his energy before the next leg of his trip. He really wished it wasn’t the middle of winter, he was getting real tired of being constantly cold. But he didn’t want to risk breaking in somewhere again to get warm, so he settled for making a fire once more. He slept all day, waking up to study the map again before the sun finally set and he deemed it safe enough to start running again.

Next stop: Chicago. Peter was actually excited about this stop, planning on snabbing a couple of deep dish pizzas. He sat by his fire that day, miles away from the city with his two large pizzas, and feasted on what was probably the best meal he had in his life. 

He sat back afterwards, thinking about the last day of his trip. One more night, and he’d be at the mansion, the school…or what would soon be one. He had no idea on the status of it or how far along it was now, especially since Erik had been gone for almost four months.

Peter wringed his hands together nervously, thinking about the reaction to his arrival. Once he told them how he’d been imprisoned with Erik, and why he was the only one to escape. How he had been too late to rescue him…that he was his son. His Dad had told him, over and over again how he would immediately be accepted. How happy Magda would be.

Peter still had his doubts though, not seeing how she wouldn’t be upset about her husband suddenly having two long lost children from another woman. They had a life together, a happy one now from the way his Dad had talked. And he was about to completely upheave the life they had built, the one that took them so long to get to. 

So yes, he was extremely nervous about meeting her, about meeting all of them. He wished he got to meet them with his Dad by his side. Peter once again wished more than anything that Wanda was here with him. He always felt calmer with her near him, even though she herself radiated chaotic energy to everyone else around her. It was comforting to him though, and he once again swore silently to himself that he would find her, no matter what. He’d find both of them, with help of course. He wasn’t so naive to think that he could do this all on his own.

He ate a few breakfast burritos he had taken along with the pizza, needing a bit more energy for this final step of his journey. Eight-hundred and sixty five miles was how long this last stretch to the mansion was. He estimated it would take roughly about eight hours. He set off, the running helping calm his nerves.

Eight long hours later, he skidded to a stop outside a large metal gate. He couldn’t quite see the building from outside the gate, it being so far away and there wasn’t a visible sign for the school yet, but he knew this was it. The sun was just now starting to rise, and he had no idea how many residents currently occupied the building. He quickly slid in between the bars and sped over to the side of the house.

And ‘house’ was sure an understatement, this place looked more like a castle. He spotted what looked like construction in the back of the property, they must be adding on even more in preparation for opening the school. It truly would be a magnificent sight once it was finished and officially open. 

Peter’s musings were interrupted when he heard a door open from what sounded like the front of the mansion, he ran over to the corner of the building, staying hidden from view and listening.

“-and tell Hank that while it’s great he’s updated the security system yet again, the bloody thing goes off anytime so much as a rabbit passes through the fence!” A British voice called out belonging to a female. Peter sucked in a breath, that must be Magda. She studied and lived in London for years, having a slightly deeper accent than Erik’s. And Peter hadn't heard his Dad mention any other women with an accent who worked or stayed at the mansion.

“He said he fixed it, but also he said that the last two times so he’s probably just shooting shit. Hank! You’re a liar!” Another voice joined in, this one American. Peter wasn’t sure who that was, but he couldn’t hide forever. That proved to be true in the next three seconds.

“Wait, maybe it was warranted this time…” The voice who Peter assumed was Magda started.

“Where?” The other one asked calmly. 

“The side of the house, definitely not a rabbit - wait!” 

“What? They’ll get away, I’ll deal with it, Magda, don’t worry.” Yep, Peter was definitely found out.

“It’s a child.” Magda answered the other woman. 

Peter took in a deep breath before stepping out from the cover of the wall, finally walking into view of the two women on the front porch of the house. He quickly came to the conclusion that the other woman had to be Raven, what with her being entirely blue. He wondered if she really was as badass as his Dad had told him she was. He then shifted his gaze to Magda, she was pretty, jet black hair falling past her shoulders and…completley gray eyes that were glazed over, the color gray taking up the entirety of the eye. The color slowly receded and her natural dark brown replaced it. She had obviously been using her powers to spot him.

“Hello, we won’t hurt you. I promise.” Magda said in a soft voice. Peter was suddenly taken back to the first few minutes of meeting his Father, who had said almost the same line to him.

“I promise I mean you no harm.”

Peter hadn’t believed him then. He believed Magda now, he believed her wholeheartedly. 

“My name is Magda, this is Raven.” She gestured to Raven, who was standing a few feet behind her with her arms crossed.

“I-” Peter swallowed nervously before continuing. “My name is Peter. And…and I need your help.” He finished lamely. He had no idea how to even begin telling them all what had happened. Magda nodded lightly.

“Alright, Peter. Of course we will help you. Would you like to come inside?” She asked, giving a light reassuring smile. Peter immediately felt more calmer at the sight, giving a small nod in response before beginning to walk toward her. She began to reach for his shoulder, but then stopped herself, giving him another smile as she led him into the mansion. 

“The school isn’t even close to opening yet.” He heard Raven whisper to her.

“Shut up, Raven.” She whispered back. “Everyone is welcome here.” Magda said the last part in a louder cheerful voice, smiling brightly. 

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant we can’t start enrolling kids left and right, we have other priorities at the moment. You know that.” Raven defended herself.

“ Yes , I am well aware of the other priorities we currently have.” Magda argued back, Peter had a feeling they were definitely talking about Erik. He opened his mouth to interject in their conversation and to try and defend himself that he wasn’t just some random kid looking to join their current non-existent school.

“Um-” Peter started but was interrupted by another voice with a British accent as they entered the kitchen.

“Hank said that his system is working perfectly and that he would appreciate it if you two did not wake him up at the crack of dawn. Or well, me I guess waking him up to pass your concerns along, Raven. Really, please stop using me as your messenger-oh dear, I’m so sorry.” A man with shaggy brown hair, sitting in a wheelchair exclaimed as he looked up from the paper he was reading. 

“It seems it really did work correctly this time.” He added with a light friendly smile. And this was obviously Charles, Eriks oldest and closest friend. The one he had accidentally paralyzed. Peter had been fascinated by the stories he had been told by his Father, him not holding anything back from Peter. He was surprised how far he had come, how much he had changed from who he used to be.

Peter hoped everything that had happened to his Dad in the past months didn’t revert him back to his old ways. He wouldn’t be surprised though, he knew he felt enough anger toward Shaw now to see why his Father had chosen the path he had in the past.

“Um, hello.” Peter finally greeted awkwardly, raising a hand in a light pathetic wave. 

“Peter, this is Charles.” Magda introduced him. “And this is Peter. Who is welcome here.” Magda emphasized, looking at Raven, who in return threw her hands up in exasperation.

“Of course he is! I’m not heartless, and I didn’t mean it like that! Geeze. Kid, you want some breakfast?” Raven asked pointedly as she moved into the kitchen, opening the fridge and began to take out ingredients. 

“Okay.” Peter croaked out, a little overwhelmed but also relieved that she didn’t seem to hate his presence here entirely. Magda caught his eye and bent down slightly to his level, smiling before speaking in a low voice to him. 

“She really is quite nice, don’t be put off by her attitude. It’s often misleading.”

“I heard that.” Raven called back. Charles cleared his throat, breaking up the two women’s conversation. Magda straightened back up, turning her attention back to Charles.

“Right then. Peter is in need of our help, apparently.” Magda stated, pulling out a chair for Peter at the small table. He sat down, feeling a bit numb now and not knowing how to start. Magda sat across from him, Charles taking up the space at the end of the table in between the two. 

“How can we help you, Peter?” Charles asked in a kind voice. 

“I, um. I know-” Peter stuttered, trying to come up with the words. He really should have rehearsed this or at least wrote something down. “It’s not me who needs your help…I mean, it is! But, not really…” He let out a frustrated breath. 

“It’s okay, Peter.” Charles reassured him firmly with a nod. 

“It’s Erik!” Peter blurted out before he could stop himself. A shocked silence followed for a few minutes before three voices exclaimed at the same time. 

“Pardon?”

“The hell?”

“ What?”  

The last one was whispered by Magda. Peter looked at their shocked expressions, wishing with everything he had that his Dad was here with him right now. That it was him in Peter’s place, his friends and wife deserved him to be here instead.

“I’m sorry.” Peter choked out. “I’m sorry he isn’t here, I-I should have been quicker. I shouldn’t have waited so long.” He tried to calm himself, his breathing was getting faster. 

Magda reached across the table, grabbing his hand in a soft grip. 

“Peter, breathe. It’s alright. Just take a breath.” She instructed in a firm but calming voice. It worked. Peter took in several deep breaths, feeling his heart rate slow down slightly. 

“Explain to us when you’re ready, at your own pace.” Charles added in a soft voice. Peter nodded shakily, taking in steady breaths now. 

“Here, kid.” Raven walked up, placing a glass of orange juice in front of Peter. He quickly took several sips, swallowing before speaking up again.

“Okay, um-” He started, then the words spilled out of him faster than he could think. “Erik was imprisoned with me for, I think, four months? I’m not sure, time is hard to keep track of in there. He told me about all of you guys though, that’s how I knew to come here. They…they put limiters on us, injected us with a suppressant drug of some kind…experimented on us. S-Shaw, he’s the one in charge.” Peter’s hand drifted to the bandage covering his left arm, the expressions that Charles and Magda wore told Peter that they were well aware of who Shaw was.

“Then they took me for transfer to another facility, without Erik. The van I was in crashed, I escaped. But-” Peter paused. “But I didn’t go straight back, I couldn’t! My powers took a few days to return, so I had to wait! Erik made me promise not to go back at all, to come straight here but I couldn’t just leave him. H-he saved my life, I wasn’t gonna leave him.” He took in a shaky breath, he could feel tears filling his eyes but he held them back.

“I went back a few days later and everything and everyone was gone. I’m sorry, I tried. I-I really did-” 

“Shh, Peter it’s alright.” He heard Magda speak. Peter couldn’t see though, his sight blurry from tears that he was trying desperately to blink away before they fell. He heard a chair move. He blinked again and his eyesight cleared, allowing him to see that Magda had now moved to kneel directly in front of where he was sitting, now grasping both of his hands in hers. Her hands were really soft, Peter noticed absently. 

“You did the right thing, coming here. Nothing was your fault.” She reassured him. Peter shook his head in denial.

“He told me to come to this address, but he should be here with me. I-I should have gone back there sooner.” He finished in a defeated tone. Magda shook her head now.

“No, Peter. Had you gone sooner…well, I’m afraid we most likely wouldn’t be having this conversation at all. The likelihood of you getting caught again would have been extremely high.” Peter let out a shaky laugh. 

“That’s what Erik said too.” 

Magda smiled, her eyes wet. 

“He’s a smart man.” She said, giving Peter’s hands a squeeze. Peter returned her smile with a sad one of his own, nodding in agreement. 

“Peter.” Charles' voice pulled Peter’s attention away from Magda momentarily, he had forgotten for a moment that Charles and Raven were still in the room. The latter standing behind Charles, her hands resting on the back of the wheelchair.

“Peter, do you know where the facility is located?” He asked. Peter nodded, gently pulling his hands away from Magda’s grasp as he reached beside his chair and grabbed his backpack, digging the map out.

“Right here.” He said, pointing to the area the prison had been located in. Magda stood back up, looking with everyone else at the map placed on the table

“Canada?” Raven exclaimed, before turning to look at Peter. “When did you leave?” She asked.

“Um, four days ago?” Peter answered. “I hid out for a few days before that, so it’s been over a week…” He trailed off, knowing the answer wasn’t the best news for them knowing where Erik was located now. It had been too long.

“How the hell did you get here? Take a bus? Hitchhike?” Raven looked at him skeptically. 

“I ran.” Peter answered truthfully with a shrug. Then realizing as he looked at the disbelief and confusion on their faces that he had never revealed his power.

“I’m fast…like, really fast. That’s my power.” Peter stated. “But I’m usually a lot faster!” He stated, not wanting them to think that his top speed was a measly hundred miles an hour.

“I need to go and check it out, Charles. See if there was anything left behind.” Magda spoke up, still looking down at the map. Peter looked up at her.

“I ran the top level, it was empty. But there are probably at least half a dozen or so floors underground. I left though…I didn’t know if it was a trap.” Peter said, looking down in shame. He should have searched the entire facility instead of running like a coward. As if she had read his mind, Magda placed a hand on his shoulder before speaking again.

“You did the right thing, Peter. Don’t ever doubt that.” She reassured him firmly. Peter looked back up at her, meeting her gaze.

“Let me go with you, I can help-”

“ No.” All three of the adults in the room voiced at once. Peter let out a defeated sigh.

“I’m sorry, Peter. But you’re not going anywhere near that place ever again.” Magda said in a firm and definitive tone. Peter didn’t argue, a large part of him glad that they shut him down immediately. He was more than happy to never see that place again.

“Magda, I don’t know if going is such a good ide-”

“It wasn’t a question, Charles. It won’t take me long to scope it out, I won’t even have to set foot in the building before doing so.” Magda interrupted Charles. Peter figured she was talking about her power, having x-ray vision must come in very useful for these situations.

“I’ll go with her.” Raven volunteered. “And Hank, we’ll make him fly us.” Charles nodded, before placing two fingers to his forehead.

“Alright, then. I let him know to prepare the jet. You get the pleasure of explaining all of this to him.” Charles said drily, Raven rolling her eyes in response. Peter watched the exchange in light amusement, they really were siblings just like Erik had stated, even if it wasn't by blood.

“I’d like to take Peter for a quick check-up, before the jet is ready to go.” Magda’s voice pulled his attention away from the brother-sister conversation.

“I’m fine, really!” Peter insisted quickly, not wanting to have to endure anything medical related. 

“Nothing invasive, I promise.” She insisted with a soft smile. “I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

And okay, so Erik wasn’t lying when he spoke about how nice Magda was. Barely an hour into knowing her and she was already one of the nicest people Peter had ever met, and it was hard to say no when she obviously meant well. He gave a nervous and reluctant nod, Magda flashing him a winning smile in return as she waved him along.

He followed her out of the kitchen, trying to take in the extravagance that was the mansion. She must have noticed him looking around in wonder.

“I promise I’ll give you the whole tour later on. It’s quite a long one.” She said lightheartedly, leading him to a doorway that opened to a set of stairs that led down to what seemed to be underground. She stopped, Peter almost walking into her before he stopped himself.

“The clinic is downstairs, in the basement. Is that going to be alright for you?” She asked with concern lacing her voice. Peter stared in wonder. She had obviously worked out that he was most likely underground while imprisoned, and was now aware that it may be a trigger for him. All within an hour of barely knowing him.

“Peter?” 

“Um, yeah. It’s fine.” He replied with a small smile. She studied him for a moment longer before returning the smile with one of her own and opened the door, leading him down the stairs.

It was bigger than Peter thought it would be, with at least five beds lining a long wall and what looked like to be a separate room meant for surgery. 

“I know it’s a lot for a school, but we’ve learned that it’s best to be prepared.” Magda said, noticing Peter looking around the extensive clinical set-up. He nodded in agreement, following her into yet another room that he hadn’t noticed before. It seemed to be a standard exam room. Peter bit back the urge to turn around and run, reassuring himself that he could trust this person. Magda seemed to notice his discomfort.

“We’ll leave the door open, shall we? I just want to get some quick vitals, blood pressure, and heart rate. Simple and fast, I promise.” Peter nodded, keeping silent. She guided him to a scale first, having him stand on it for a couple of moments. 

“Underweight, not surprising.” She said with a slight frown as she wrote the information down. “I’m guessing you have a fast metabolism as well?”

“Yeah. My body uses up energy pretty fast, even when I’m not using my powers.” Peter answered, stepping up on a stool to sit down on the bed. Magda nodded to herself, making another note.

“When were you last at a normal weight?” She asked. 

“Um…never? I don’t know. I never weighed myself.” Peter shrugged. “Never had a real balanced diet, I guess. Just ate what was given to me and…” He hesitated. “I stole the rest when I was really hungry.” Peter finished, looking down in guilt. Magda looked up from her clipboard.

“Peter…I know we skipped past a lot upstairs, questions we should have asked you right away.” She set the clipboard to the side, pulling a stool for herself to sit on and moved to sit in front of Peter, giving him her full attention.

“Do you have a family? Someone we can contact to let them know you're okay?” He had a feeling she already knew the answer. Any normal kid who had just escaped a ten month stay in hell would be crying to see their parents first thing after getting out. His was still trapped there. And his sister’s location still unknown. He didn’t dare tell her any of that now though, not yet.

“No, I was taken from a foster home. There’s no one looking for me.” He said simply, shaking his head. Magda looked at him, but not with pity. With understanding.

“Well, you have a home here.” She stated with a smile. Peter stared back at her. 

“Really?” Erik had told him that this is exactly what would happen, but he still had a hard time believing it. She didn’t even know him, and was offering for him to stay here? Just like that?

“Of course! Don’t tell me Erik didn’t offer the same.” She exclaimed. 

“He did. He said you would too. Everything he said was true.” Peter replied with a light laugh.

“Well, I’d be very disappointed if he didn’t.” Her smile fell a little as she thought about her husband. She quickly covered up the sudden lapse of what Peter could see was partly false cheer.

“Right. Well, we’ll get you put on a proper diet then! It’ll take awhile to work out the best plan for you, and I want to try some specially made shakes for in between meals, and calorie tracking until we figure out what is needed for you to be at optimal health.” She was jotting down a lot of notes now. “You know, I think you’ll find yourself running faster than you ever have with the proper nutrition now.” She added with a smile, looking up from her notes. 

Peter was a bit overwhelmed by the information and news that he wouldn’t have to go to bed hungry ever again, while here anyway, so he just nodded numbly in agreement. She put a cuff on his arm and took his blood pressure. “A bit low, but not too bad.” 

She pricked his finger, checking his blood sugar next. “Also a little low. Something else we’ll make sure to keep track of.” 

She set her notes down again, turning back to Peter.

“I’m going to use my powers now, Peter. It’ll help me get a better look at your heart and lungs.” She waited for him to possibly object. And he almost did, knowing what else she would find. The numerous broken and then quickly mended fractures of bones. He knew he healed fast, but he also knew the likelihood of evidence of those breaks being left was high. But he couldn’t hide everything forever from her, so he nodded his consent.

The iris and white of her eyes turned a dark gray again as she stared ahead, seeming and probably literally looking straight through him. Her brows furrowed slightly, and after about thirty seconds the gray faded away. She took a deep breath.

“Those fractures…did they all happen in the past ten months?” Peter guessed she also already knew the answer. 

“No…most of them did, though.” Foster homes weren’t friendly to mutants, Peter thought miserably to himself. It had only happened a couple of times though, before his powers had even really manifested. When he was close to full power his bones were extremely hard to break. Though the scientist at the prison found ways around that…

“Peter.” Magda’s concerned voice broke him away from his darkening thoughts. 

“I’m sorry.” Peter immediately apologized, and Magda shook her head.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” Peter blinked back tears at the endearing nickname. Magda grabbed his left hand lightly. 

“Can you answer something for me?” She asked in a soft voice. Peter nodded.

“This bandage? Why is it here?” Had she not seen under it when she looked? Did she not know? Or maybe she did and she wanted to leave it up to him to answer. Peter panicked, pulling his hand away and cradling his arm against his chest protectively.

“It’s nothing! I mean, it is…obviously...” You don’t put a bandage on your arm for no reason. 

“Just, not today…please.” Peter whispered. He knew he needed to get it looked at. It hadn’t been changed in a week and was probably at serious risk for infection by now. But he couldn’t today. Maybe tomorrow, but not today. 

“Okay, Peter. We won’t today.” Magda easily agreed, not pushing the matter anymore. Peter had never been so thankful for an adult actually listening to him. 

“I think that’s enough for now! How about we head back upstairs and get you something to eat?” She said in a lighter tone, trying to change the mood. Peter forced a small smile at her attempt.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” He answered, feeling half starved after his eight hour run. 

They arrived back to the kitchen with breakfast already made.

“Here, Speedy. Hope you like waffles and bacon.” Raven stated when she saw the two of them walk back into the kitchen, setting down a hefty plateful of food on the table along with a glass of orange juice. Peter tried not to grimace at the nickname, but thought it would be rude to tell her that it was horrible and ‘please don’t ever call me that again’. 

“Yes, I do hope you enjoy. It’s about all she knows how to cook.” Charles' voice joined in as he entered the kitchen. Raven flipped him the middle finger in response. Peter held back a laugh as he took a big bite of a waffle, savoring the taste. 

“The jet is ready, and so is Hank for an explanation on why he was dragged out of bed this morning. So have fun with that.” Charles said with a smile as Raven walked out of the kitchen sighing heavily. Charles’ smile dropped as he turned his attention to Magda.

“Do be careful, and turn around at any sign of danger.” He said. Magda nodded in return.

“We will, don’t worry. We’re just taking a quick look, we’ll be back by tonight.” She reassured him before flashing one last smile toward Peter. He stopped eating, appetite slowly leaving as she walked out of the room. Charles focused on Peter now that they were the only two left.

“They will be fine, don’t worry. Raven alone is a force to be reckoned with.” He muttered the last sentence. Peter took another bite.

“But not Magda? Or Hank?” Peter asked curiously. 

“Oh, they all are. Hank doesn’t like to fight though. And Magda being a doctor would prefer healing over fighting any day. But, she can hold her own. Erik made sure she learned how to.” Charles said with a smile. Peter nodded, he could believe that. Would his Dad have taught him and Wanda how to fight had they been raised by him from the beginning? Or would he want them to have nothing to do with that life. Peter froze, suddenly remembering that he was in the same room with a man who could read his mind at any moment.

“I’m not reading your mind.”

Peter choked on the bacon he was in the middle of swallowing.

“Oh dear, here drink some juice.” Peter grabbed the cup and took a large sip. 

“I’m sorry, I could just tell by your expression what you were thinking. Just good body language interpretation skills, that’s all.” Charles said, trying to reassure the boy. Peter hoped he couldn’t tell by his ‘body language’ that he was hiding the fact that Erik was actually his Father. 

“R-right. Sorry.” Peter apologized, not really knowing what for though. Overreacting? Or maybe he was just sorry for hiding something else from these people. People who deserved to know the truth.

“I won’t ever read your mind without permission, I promise.” And he seemed to mean it sincerely. 

“Thank you.” Peter replied in a quiet voice as he finished his plate. 

“I can show you your room, if you would like?” Charles asked as he took his plate and wheeled over to the sink. 

“My room?” Peter was still having a hard time believing that in the past hour he had officially been offered a home, and now his own room?

“But of course! Peter…” Charles moved back toward him before continuing. “This is your home too now.” 

“You don’t even know me.” Peter said back. Charles gave him a sad smile.

“It doesn’t matter, Peter. You need a home, you have it. And I’d be very surprised if Erik and Magda hadn’t already offered you the same invite.” He finished lightheartedly.

“Yeah…yeah, they did.” Peter said back with a smile of his own. “Aren’t you the owner? Does everyone else just invite people to live here without asking you first?” 

Charles let out a laugh as he started to lead Peter out of the kitchen and into the hallway. 

“This is as much their home now as it is mine, and will hopefully soon be a safe haven for many more.” He said with a hopeful smile as they entered an elevator. Peter nodded approvingly.

“It’s incredible.” He admitted. “And you’re building on? I noticed the construction out back.” Charles gave a sigh, the elevator started to move up.

“Yes, though it has been delayed for the time being.” The doors opened and he wheeled out, Peter following behind him. They walked a ways down the hallway before coming to a door, Charles turned the handle and opened it. 

“Here we are. You’re on the same floor as almost all of us, so feel free to let anyone know if you need anything. There are two beds in here, but you can change that later if you want. Perks of being a permanent resident here means getting your own bedroom.” Charles said as he moved inside the room.

Peter stood frozen, staring at the two twin beds that sat next to each other, a nightstand placed in between them. The room was large, it even had its own bathroom and fireplace in it. A large window took up a good size of the wall at the far right side of it. Two beds…one for him and Wanda. 

Wanda, who he hadn’t even told anyone about yet. Who was still missing, alone somewhere…thinking her brother had forgotten or abandoned her.

“Peter? Are you alright?” Charles' voice pulled Peter away from his spiraling thoughts.

“Y-yeah. Sorry, it’s just…it’s a lot.” He admitted truthfully. Because it was a lot, he and Wanda had never had their own room anywhere. And here he was, getting one all to himself…without her. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. 

“Of course, I’m sure it’s all overwhelming.” Charles nodded sympathetically, studying him. “Is there anything else troubling you, Peter?” 

'Was it that obvious?' Peter thought to himself. He never thought he was one to wear his feelings on his sleeve, but maybe he was wrong. But he felt he couldn’t hide this much longer, his sister, or the identity of his Father. And he didn’t want to.

“Cerebro” Peter started, Charles raised an eyebrow at the mention. “Can you use it? To find someone?” He had obviously not found Erik with it, but his Dad had theorized that the facility they were in most likely blocked it’s reach.

“Erik really did tell you everything.” Charles muttered to himself in slight surprise before answering. “Yes…usually. Though I couldn’t find Erik with it.” Peter nodded, about to ask him another question but was interrupted as Charles continued with his explanation.

“But, it’s not functional at the moment.” Peter’s face fell.

“Why?” He whispered, feeling defeated once again.

“The construction outside has been delayed because we were compromised a few months ago. Cerebro was destroyed.” Charles said with a sigh. “We’ve been trying to rebuild it, but it’s a long process. And we’re already stretched thin.” 

Peter walked numbly over to the bed, sitting down on it. His best chance at finding Wanda was now gone. He tried to hold back tears of frustration. Charles moved in front of him. 

“Peter? Wherever Erik is, I’m certain Cerebro wouldn’t help in finding him at his new location either.” Charles reassured him. Peter shook his head.

“I know…it’s not him I was hoping you could find with it. I mean-” That wasn’t how he meant it to come out. “It’s not just him!” He quickly corrected. Charles stared at him questioningly. 

“Who else are you searching for, Peter?” 

“My sister.” He whispered, looking down at his hands. One major secret down.

“I see…” Charles said, he didn’t seem very surprised. Peter guessed he knew he was hiding something from him. He also wondered if he thought this was the only thing Peter was hiding. 

“My twin. She was taken by the foster agency a couple weeks before I was imprisoned.” Peter explained. Charles reached over and lightly grabbed his hand.

“I’m sorry, Peter. I wish Cerebro was functional, I would use it in a heartbeat to help you.” Peter gave a light shaky nod.

“Thank you.” He said softly.

“We’ll do everything else within our power in the meantime to search for her, I promise.” Charles said in a determined voice. Peter swallowed heavily. These people, who he hadn’t even known for a full day yet, were all so determined to help him in every way possible. His Father hadn’t lied to him, not even a little bit. 

“There’s…there’s something else. Something I haven’t told you.” Peter started shakily. He had no idea how to even begin to admit this. It was near unbelievable for him, and he had lived through it. But Charles, he could see into people’s minds. See their thoughts…and their memories.

“Can you just-can you look? Into my mind? Can I show you?” Peter asked in a small voice. Charles studied him for a moment.

“Do you think I won’t believe you if I don’t?” He asked. Peter let out a breath.

“Maybe? It’s pretty unbelievable…but also, it’s just a lot.” He answered. And he was tired. So tired, and his story was long. He found it so much easier if he could just show it to the man. Everything. It hadn’t even been a day here and he was already tired of keeping secrets. He had done it too long with Erik, because he didn’t trust him. But then he did. And if Erik trusted these people, then so did Peter.

“Okay, if you’re sure that’s what you want.” Charles said, wanting to make sure Peter fully consented. Peter took a deep breath in before nodding.

“I’m sure.” He replied determinedly. Charles gave a small smile. 

“Alright.” Charles lifted his hand, placing two fingers against Peter’s forehead. Not even five seconds had passed before he pulled back with a grimace. Peter flinched back in surprise.

“Was that it?” He asked. He hadn’t felt anything. Was he supposed to? Charles shook his head.

“No, Peter, it wasn’t.” He replied, closing his eyes and rubbing his head. He finally opened his eyes, a small bemused smile taking over his face.

“Fascinating. Your mind was moving so fast I couldn’t read anything.” He said in wonder and amazement. Peter let out a groan. 

“Does that mean this won’t work?” He was really hoping he could skip over the traumatic conversation in turn for just showing it. 

“No. It just means we need to go about it differently.” Charles reassured him. “I need you to try and slow your thoughts, and focus on what you want me to see. Try to picture it exactly if it’s a memory.” Peter nodded to himself, that would be easy enough. He remembered everything, sometimes a curse but in this case a blessing. 

“Okay.” He whispered to himself, closing his eyes and taking in a deep calming breath, clearing his mind of everything except for his memories of him and his Dad. He felt the cool touch of Charles finger’s on his forehead again, followed by another feeling. His head felt full and heavy. He had never felt anything like it. He could feel him sifting through his thoughts and memories. 

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I won’t hurt you Peter, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“You think you’ll ever see any of them again? Your friends and family?”

“I just want you to know that, Peter. I’m here, if you ever want to talk.”

“I don’t like him.”

“Put him in this cell again- and I will kill him.”

“We can play again sometime, right?”

“You have a home at the mansion, if you so choose.” 

“I don’t wanna be here, Erik.”

“I had a daughter.”

“I failed her, Erik.”

“That man…I know him.”

“You know, I can see the resemblance. I think it’s the eyes, so like your Mother’s”

“Did you know?

“No.”

“I’m so glad it’s you.”

“Your arm…”

“I can’t look at it.”

“Will your wife be angry?”

“I think only fate could have brought us together, to this cell, to this moment in time.”

“I don’t wanna go, please don’t make me go.”

“And I love you, Peter. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

The feeling left as suddenly as it had arrived, Charles fingers leaving along with it. Peter's breaths were rapid and sharp as he struggled to get in a proper breath, overwhelmed by all the memories he had suppressed in the last week. Charles wasn’t faring much better, his eyes tightly shut as he took in deep and steadying breaths. 

They both sat in silence for a few moments, trying to process what they had seen. Charles for the first time, and Peter having to relive the memories once again. He hoped he saw everything, because that was something Peter did not want to go through again.

“Peter…” Charles' pained voice finally spoke. “I am so sorry.” He continued, his sad eyes meeting Peter’s wet ones. 

“Eri–my Dad.” Peter choked out, realizing this was the first time he had said the word out loud around someone else. 

“I failed him. And Wanda, I have no idea where she is…I feel like I failed them both.” He whispered the last part. Charles reached over and grabbed his hand.

“Listen to me. You didn’t fail anyone, Peter. You were put in impossible situations, over and over. And you still persevered through them. You’re here now, and I meant it when I promised you help. We will find your family.” He stated firmly. Peter gave a shaky nod in return. Charles leaned back in his chair.

“Erik is a Father.” He said to himself in disbelief. “Erik is a Father to twins.” He continued with a smile. 

“Your Father loves you Peter.” Charles said suddenly, turning his attention back to Peter. “Don’t ever doubt that.”

“That’s the only thing I don’t doubt right now.” Peter replied with a sad smile. His smile disappeared when he realized everyone else still didn’t know, Magda still didn't know.

“Magda…” Peter started hesitantly. Charles' eyes softened in understanding. 

“She won’t be upset, Peter. Not about you being Erik’s child.” He reassured him. Peter still didn’t believe that.

“I don’t know if I can tell her.” Peter said, tears clouding his vision and he tried desperately to hold them at bay. 

“I can’t–if her reaction is bad, I don’t–” He stuttered, scenarios of her grief and horror stricken face flashed throughout his mind. What if she hated him? Her life was about to change, one way or another.

“Peter, I promise you–”

“No, you can’t!” Peter interrupted, wiping his eyes as the tears finally fell. “You can’t promise that it will be okay! That she’ll be happy, and not disappointed.” He instantly felt bad about snapping at the man. He offered him a home and room and this is how he repaid him? By yelling at him when he was just trying to help.

But Charles didn’t seem angry in the slightest about the outburst, giving a small smile. 

“You’re right. I shouldn’t make promises about someone else’s reaction. But, I can tell you with confidence from knowing Magda almost as long as I’ve known Erik, that she will not be angry with you…or even your Father.” He said confidently. Peter wiped away another tear.

“C-can you tell her? Or, show her? What I just showed you.” Peter asked hesitantly. He knew it was a cowardly thing to do, but…didn’t she deserve to know for sure too, just like Charles had? To know that there was no way that Peter was lying about any of this. He was her husband, after all. She deserved to see first hand the truth. 

Charles frowned.

“Is that truly what you want?”

“ Please. ” Peter begged. “I don’t know how to tell her, and then Wanda…” It was too much. 

“Alright, Peter. If that’s really what you want, then I will.” Charles finally agreed, though he seemed reluctant in doing so. Peter’s body sagged in relief. If she reacted poorly, at least he wouldn’t have to witness it now, he wouldn’t have to relive her reaction over and over in his mind.

“Thank you.” He whispered gratefully. 

“Of course, Peter.” Charles replied, squeezing his hand one last time.

----------

The sun had set a while ago, Peter’s and Charles’ conversation ending even longer before that. Dinner and more discussion had happened before Peter had finally returned to his room, Charles providing him with some extra pajamas. They were his son’s, David. They fit well enough, a little bit long for Peter. But then again, he had been malnourished for a while. Maybe he’d finally hit a growth spurt now that he was going to be properly nourished.

David was due back next week Charles had mentioned, spending time with his Grandparents, the Parents of the boy’s deceased Mother. Charles seemed excited for Peter to meet him, happy that there was finally someone his son's age who would be living at the mansion. Peter was silently glad that he wasn’t here at the moment, the day had been overwhelming enough. And it wasn’t even over yet.

Peter sat in his bed with the lamp on, not even attempting to sleep yet. It was only nine, but Magda, Raven and Hank had still not returned yet. Charles assured him though that he had been alerted they were on their way back. That had been an hour ago, so they should be arriving any moment. Peter knew that Charles wouldn’t want to keep the truth of Peter’s parentage from Magda long. And Peter agreed. 

Everytime he looked at her earlier in the day he had felt guilty for keeping this secret from her. He just wanted it over with, rip the bandaid off. Then he could deal with any repercussions from it afterward. Finally he heard the sounds of a jet. They had finally arrived back. He hoped they had found more than he did at the facility, anything at all pointing to where Erik could have possibly been taken.

About twenty minutes later he heard talking in the hallway, moving down toward Charles’ study that was located at the end of the hall. He sped over to the door, pressing his ear against it to try and understand what was being said. 

“--nothing. They cleared the place out, assholes.” That was Raven. Peter frowned at the news, he had expected it, but still. It hurt to know they were no closer to finding out Erik’s whereabouts.

“It was a longshot, we knew that.” Magda chimed in. “How’s Peter?” 

Peter’s heart clenched at the mention of his name. She was worried about him? Raven bailed out of the conversation, announcing that she was gonna take a shower and that she’d see them all in the morning and make ‘Speedy another badass Raven special breakfast’. Peter internally groaned at the name again. He was gonna have to tell Raven to stop using it, because he was not gonna be known by that nickname. 

“He’s fine…” Charles trailed off uncertainly. Magda immediately noticed.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, sensing something was off.

“Let’s talk in the study.” Was the last thing Peter heard before the door shut behind the two. 

He walked slowly back to his bed, climbing on top of the covers to sit with his knees pulled up to his chin. No way was he going to be able to sleep now, even though his body was begging him to. He’d been up for at least twenty-four hours now. But Magda, right this instant, was possibly being shown everything that had occurred between her husband and his new found son. 

Peter stared straight ahead at the door, the different scenarios of her different reactions to the news flowing through his mind. What if she couldn’t live with it? Would that force Erik to have to choose between his wife, who he had known for a large portion of his life, or his children…one he hadn’t even met yet. He was terrified of the answer.

Foster home after home never offered to officially adopt Peter and Wanda. Though most weren’t in it for legit reasons to begin with. But even the few that were still turned them away at the end. Overwhelmed by their powers, and lack of control of them…with Wanda, anyway. He could see it in their eyes after she would accidentally cause a lamp to explode, or any other strange anomaly caused by her powers. They were scared.

He couldn’t exactly blame them, her powers were scary to those who weren’t used to them. And Peter knew he was a handful all on his own. He stole, he talked back, especially to those who had something not so nice to say about his sister. So no, they weren’t the poster children for a family to want to adopt. He wondered if Wanda had any better luck on her own without him. Had she finally gotten adopted? Was she happy? That may have scared him more than the possibility of her being taken and kept against her will, and he felt horrible for even feeling it. 

He looked to the clock on the nightstand next to his bed, the time reading eleven thirty. They’d been in there awhile. He didn’t know what to think of that. The distant sound of a door opening interrupted his thoughts before they had time to once again wander. He didn’t hear any yelling or other alarming sounds. Was that good?

A soft knock sounded against the door to his bedroom, and Peter froze for a moment. He could turn off the lamp and pretend he was asleep? No, that was stupid, and cowardly. Better to face whatever reaction now than put it off any longer. He already bailed out of telling her the truth himself.

“Come in.” He called out hesitantly. 

The door opened slowly and Magda’s face appeared as she moved fully into the room, closing the door softly behind her. Her eyes were red, she had obviously been crying. Peter instantly felt guilty. 

“I think we have a lot to talk about.” Magda said in a soft voice, taking a seat on the bed across from Peter’s. 

Peter nodded and moved so he was sitting on the side of his bed, now facing Magda head on. He wrung his hands together nervously, and tried to force himself to keep taking steady and even breaths. 

“Peter-” 

“I’m sorry!” Peter didn’t mean to interrupt what she was about to say, but the words flew out of his mouth before he could even think. Magda’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“Why are you sorry?” She asked. 

“I…I don’t…” Peter stuttered, trying to get out the words that he had been thinking about all night. “For not telling you myself. For it happening this way…for being me?” He paused. “I mean, not being me. But, for being…Erik’s?” Ugh, this was not coming out right. “Not that I’m ashamed of him, or being his son! Because I’m not!” He closed his eyes in frustration. “I don’t want you to…”

He didn’t finish, not knowing how to. He heard her get up from her spot, and for a horrified moment he thought she was about to walk out of the room. Instead he felt the spot directly next to him shift, Magda having sat down less than a foot away from him now. 

“Peter, can you look at me?” She asked in a calm voice. Peter opened his eyes that were now filled with tears. He turned to face her, meeting her gaze. 

“You don’t want me to what? Hate you? Be angry with you?” And Peter could have sworn at that moment that she was a mind reader. He nodded shakily before adding on.

“Or at Dad–I mean, Erik!” He corrected immediately, face flushing in shame. Magda smiled, and Peter thought for a moment that maybe he was hallucinating. Perhaps the lack of sleep was causing him to see things now.

“Why are you smiling?” He asked in exasperation and confusion. Magda let out a breathless laugh.

“Because I never thought I’d get to hear someone call him that.” She admitted with a sad smile. “Anya wasn’t old enough yet to start talking…” She trailed off, then shook her head as if to bring herself back to the present moment. She moved and grabbed both of Peter’s hands in her own.

“Peter, listen to me.” She made sure to meet his gaze. “I am not angry. I am not upset, or disappointed. Not with Erik, and certainly not with you. I need you to understand that.” Peter looked at her, confusion taking over. 

“But, how? You know I have a twin, right? There’s two of us, not just one. Two kids that your husband had with someone that isn’t…you.” He finished awkwardly, feeling guilty once again about how he had phrased the words. For someone who could think faster than everyone else he sure didn’t use that ability to plan out what he needed to say. 

“Yes, I am well aware that he was in relationships after we went our separate ways. We both were. And from everything I saw…” She paused, taking a deep breath. “Everything I saw in your memories, he didn’t know about you or Wanda. Because I know if he had…if he had known, he would have never let the two of you go.” She admitted, wiping away a tear. Peter’s heart clenched at the sight, thinking of his older half sister who he would never get to meet. The loss both of them had gone through, the loss that had ultimately torn them apart for years.

“I…” Peter hesitated, forcing himself to then keep talking. “I know I’ve only known you for a day. But…but I feel like I’ve known you longer. E-Erik-” He stopped again, It actually felt strange to call him Erik now, but he didn’t want to make Magda even more upset or uncomfortable. He felt her give his hands a squeeze.

“You can call him ‘Dad’, Peter. It’s alright.” She said with a smile. Peter tried to return it with a small one of his own. 

“Dad…he talked so much about you, and about Anya.” Magda let out a wet laugh, wiping her eyes again. “I just…I just really really don’t want you to hate me.” Peter finally admitted in a broken whisper. 

Magda reached up and gently wiped away a tear that had fallen down his cheek. Peter hadn’t even realized that he had also started crying. 

“Oh sweetheart, I don’t hate you.” She replied, shaking her head lightly. Peter let out a light sob at her admission, leaning forward toward her and wrapping his arms around her. She immediately reciprocated, enveloping him in a tight embrace. 

Her embrace was firm, but not uncomfortably so, Peter noticed as he closed his eyes. His body was limp with relief and exhaustion. She didn’t hate him…she accepted him, and his sister. He tried to hold back more tears, but failed to do so. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Peter didn’t know when he started whispering apologies as he continued to cry into her shoulder. Magda rocked him gently, moving her hand to his head as she began to run her fingers through his hair. Peter let out another sob, reminded of his Father doing the same. 

“Shh, Peter. It’s okay. Nothing is your fault.” Magda whispered back to him, trying to reassure him again.

Peter didn’t know how long they stayed like that, finally he pulled away slightly from the embrace, wiping his eyes. 

“Didn’t mean to cry all over you.” Peter said, trying to compose himself. Magda let out a laugh.

“I didn’t mean to cry all over you. ” She replied with a smile. Peter returned it with one of his own. Magda grabbed his hand in a light grip.

“We’ll find them, Peter. Both of them, I promise.” She said firmly. Peter squeezed her hand and met her gaze.

“I believe you.”

Chapter Text

Peter II

Peter didn’t think he had ever slept so deep in his entire life. After the emotional conversation with Magda the night before he had finally fallen asleep around one in the morning, but not after she had made sure at least three times that he was going to be okay. His heart clenched at her concern, once again questioning to himself if last night’s conversation had actually happened or if his sleep deprived mind had conjured it all up.

He sat up in his bed, rubbing his eyes roughly. The clock on the nightstand read eleven in the morning. He felt rested…and starving. After taking a quick shower, and changing into some more lended but slightly too large clothes, he made his way downstairs to the kitchen. 

The smell of food immediately greeted him, along with Raven closing the oven.

“Geeze, kid. I was about to go check and make sure you were still alive up there.” She greeted him before gesturing for him to sit down at one of the stools at the counter. He did so, covering a yawn up with his hand. She took a heaping portion of pancakes, bacon and eggs out of the oven. She must have been keeping it all warm for him, he realized. She walked over and set down a large plate full of food in front of him, along with a glass of orange juice.

“Thought you only knew how to make waffles and bacon?” He asked with a smile before taking a large bite of a pancake. Raven rolled her eyes before replying.

“Charles is a liar, he likes to sabotage me at any given moment.” She said teasingly with a smile. “Similar to your Father in that aspect, actually.” Peter choked while swallowing his juice. Seriously, could he just have a meal here without almost choking to death?

He coughed as Raven lightly hit his back. “Please don’t die on me, Erik would for sure flip his shit. And Magda, for that matter.” Okay, so news spread fast in this place. 

“That didn’t take long.” Peter finally managed to say after he recovered from his fit. Raven laughed.

“Yeah, things don’t stay a secret long here.” She smirked as she leaned on the counter, resting her chin on one of her hands. 

“Wow, I still can’t believe Erik has a child.” 

“Children.” Peter corrected as he continued eating. Raven barked out another laugh.

“Shit, that’s right. Twins! Man, who would have thought?” She mused to herself. Was it that surprising? He had a child before. But he had been a very different person then, even Peter knew that. 

“I mean, he is a decent teacher though, I guess. Don’t know about education, but he was good at training.” 

“Are you talking about the mutant recruitment class?” Peter asked, remembering his Dad telling him about the recruits that he had helped train years ago. Raven raised her brows in surprise.

“Wow, he did tell you a lot didn’t he? He tell you about pushing someone off a roof?” She said gleefully. 

“Uh…like, ‘attempted murder’ pushed?” Peter asked hesitantly. Raven let out another loud cackle.

“ No, it was not.” Magda said as she walked into the kitchen, smiling and giving Peter’s shoulder a squeeze as she walked by. Peter smiled back at her. 

“You weren’t even there, Magda!” Raven stated. Magda rolled her eyes as she poured herself a cup of coffee and opened the fridge, taking out a pre-made shake and sliding it over to Peter. 

“I wasn’t, but I know what happened.” She said simply as she stood at the counter, opposite of Peter. “It was a teaching moment…albeit a rough one. But it did work!” That was reassuring.

“Your brother is looking for you, by the way.” Magda added as she took a sip of her coffee. Raven let out a sigh.

“Of course he is. Feel free to eat the rest, Speedy!” Raven called out as she left the room. Peter made a face at the nickname as he took a sip of his specially made shake, pleasantly surprised at the appetizing flavor. Magda let out a light laugh.

“Not a fan of the nickname? She has a bad habit of making them up, I can tell her to stop.” She offered. Peter shook his head. 

“Nah, I’ll tell her myself.” He said with a smile. Magda smiled back before speaking again.

“How are you, Peter?” She asked softly. Right. He knew that question was coming, especially after last night. He looked down at his now empty plate, fiddling aimlessly with his fork.

“I’m…good.” He started almost hesitantly before looking back up at her. “I’m good.” He stated again, more confidently. “I feel rested, and stronger….and relieved.” And he was. There were no secrets between him and everyone here now. He felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest. 

“Good. I’m glad you feel that way. I want you to feel comfortable to tell us anything that’s bothering you.” Her smile faded as she continued. “Peter…your arm…” 

Peter took in a sharp breath at the mention. Of course she knew what it was now. That was one memory she had for sure witnessed when Charles had shown her what he himself had seen when he looked into Peter’s mind. 

“You want to look at it.” Peter stated matter of factly. He knew he needed to get it medically treated again, it had been weeks since it had been. Magda gave a slow nod.

“Yes, if you would be okay with that. Just to make sure it’s not infected.” She said carefully. Peter nodded in return. 

“Okay.” He whispered.

Ten minutes later he found himself back downstairs seated on the bed in the same exam room he had been in the day before. 

“Alright. I’m going to unwrap it now. You tell me if it hurts too much at any point and if you want me to stop.” She said, Peter only nodded in response. He immediately turned his head away as she started to unwrap the bandage, not wanting to even catch a glimpse of the brand…the scar. The last time he had looked at it was the day it was inflicted upon him. 

He didn’t hear any reaction from her as she finally lifted the bandage and he didn’t dare try to look. It didn’t hurt as much now, though he held back a slight flinch as she applied what he assumed was some sort of cream.

“It doesn’t look to be infected. I’m applying some antibiotic ointment though. It’ll also help with the healing process.” She informed him as she started to wrap it again. Peter finally turned his head back toward the front, the scar now being out of view once again. Magda’s eyes were set on her task, her brows were furrowed and her mouth set in slight frown. She looked almost angry, Peter noticed for the first time since knowing her. Though he had barely known her for twenty-four hours now, the emotion already looked so out of place on her. 

“I’m sorry…what they did. What he did-” She corrected in a cold voice. “It’s unforgivable.” Peter could have sworn he could feel the anger radiating off his Father when Shaw had shoved the iron onto his arm. He could almost feel the same now, coming from the man's Wife. 

He could also remember the scream that had joined his own. His Dad’s scream was one of anger and hopelessness as he could do nothing but stand there and watch. Peter also felt helpless…helpless that he couldn’t fight back. And immediate shame the instant he first looked at the mark that was forever left on him now. He caught a glimpse of the set of numbers tattooed on Magda’s left forearm as she finished wrapping his arm. He felt immediate guilt. 

“I shouldn’t complain…” He trailed off, gesturing to her arm when she looked up. “I–” He was quickly interrupted by her.

“No.” She started firmly. “We don’t compare trauma’s to see who’s was worse, and then feel guilty for it.” She gripped his left hand tightly. “Your experience was horrific, Peter. That’s not objective, that’s a fact. What was done to you was wrong, and sick, and-” She took a steadying breath in. “And I know you can’t even look at it right now. You don’t want to. And that’s completely understandable.” 

Peter blinked back tears that were threatening to spill over. 

“But Peter…you can’t let it define you. It doesn’t define you. The same as these numbers don’t define who I am.” She said, holding back tears of her own. “And I’ll be here, every step of the way with you. To help you, if that’s what you want.” 

Peter wiped his eyes, giving a nod and a watery smile. 

“I’d like that.” 

WEEK THREE

Peter had been at the mansion for a few days now, and a lot had happened since he arrived. For one thing, he now had a complete new wardrobe. The shopping trip that he had been taken on with Magda and Raven seemed neverending, but he was beyond thankful nonetheless. He didn't want to buy any sort of decorations for his room, wanting to wait for Wanda. 

Magda and Charles had immediately looked into the records at the foster agency that had been in charge of the twins, but hadn’t found anything more than Peter had. He tried to keep his disappointment at bay, returning a hopeful smile when Charles reassured him they would keep looking. 

The search for his Dad hadn’t made much headway either. They had everyone they could spare out following potential leads. Alex, Logan, Sean, even Moira…Peter was just starting to realize how many friends and allies his Dad actually had. But they had also been searching for months before he had arrived last week, and nothing had come from those leads. The organization Shaw was working for or in charge of was extremely efficient at being able not to be found. 

He tried to settle in, and it wasn’t that he didn’t feel comfortable in this new home…he just felt useless. Like he should be doing something more. His two remaining family members were still missing and he was buying new clothes. He knew it wasn’t practical to feel this way, and it wasn’t technically his fault. But he couldn’t help but feel it anyway. 

His powers were getting stronger everyday, and he had never felt so energetic in his entire life. Finally he had a proper nutrition and meal routine, which was still a work in progress. The shakes were helping tremendously and he never got turned down a meal whenever he was hungry…which was a lot. And he was more excited than ever now to truly test the range of his powers.

“Hey!” 

Hank jumped in surprise, his glasses falling off halfway as Peter appeared next to him in his lab. 

“Peter.” Hank replied, straightening his glasses. 

Hank was cool, Peter determined pretty quickly. He was smart, and liked math, so Peter could relate. Though he had started to tune the man out when he started to ramble about quantum physics for too long. There was only so much of one subject that Peter could stand to listen too, especially now that his powers had returned. 

“You said you had something? What is it?” Peter asked quickly, remembering earlier that morning when Hank had told him to meet him in his lab after lunch. 

“Right! I forgot I had told you that.” Hank said as he turned around and started to rummage through a drawer. Peter stood impatiently, tapping his foot. He had gone so long without his powers, it was still an adjustment having them back. Even standing still for a minute he was starting to find difficult.

“Ah, here it is! You mentioned the other day how you have to squint when you run, so I made these for you.” He held up a pair of goggles. They were smaller, and smooth. 

“They’ll withstand your speed, but they’re light enough so they won’t dig into your skin while you run.” 

Peter ran up and grabbed them, rolling them over in his hand and studying them. They were extremely light, he wouldn’t even notice them when they were on his face.

“These are awesome! Thanks!” Peter exclaimed with a smile, slipping them on and adjusting them so they fit correctly. 

“Your welcome, but make sure to-”

“You're the best, Hank!” Peter interrupted before speeding off back upstairs. He had already mapped out the mansion several times, and now considered himself an expert on the layout. He smiled as he ran, his eyes didn’t even so much as water anymore!

He skidded to a stop at Magda’s room, her door was open. 

“Look what Hank ma– what are you doing?” She was packing a suitcase.

“Ah, there you are.” Magda said as she looked up. 

“Where are you going?” Peter asked, confused. She zipped up her suitcase before setting it down on the ground. “Did you find another lead?” He asked in a hopeful voice.

“No.” She answered before continuing. “I’m going to see a patient…a friend, actually. I’ll only be gone a couple of days. It was last minute.” She explained with a sigh, running a hand through her hair. 

“You’re going alone?” He tried not to sound too scared. That’s how his dad had ended up imprisoned, just a routine talk with a potential student's parents. 

“Raven’s coming with me.” Magda gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s going to be okay, Peter. I promise I won’t be gone long.” It didn’t help to quell his worry, but he gave a small nod back.

She took a deep breath in before speaking again.

“Now, let me see what Hank made you!” She exclaimed with a smile, Peter returned it, he had found her optimism contagious when he was around her, something he was very grateful for. 

“I’ll be unstoppable with these!” He said excitedly as he ran up to her and handed her the goggles. Magda raised her eyebrows as she examined them.

“That’s slightly worrying, not going to lie.” She muttered with a light chuckle as she knelt down, placing them against his eyes. 

“Well these will certainly protect your eyes now. But remember, no –”

“Running off the mansion grounds.” Peter finished for her. Magda and Charles had been very adamant about that rule. It was also the only official rule they had given him, so he figured he could at least follow it…for now, anyway. Magda smiled at him and ruffled his hair before standing up.

“Two days.” She repeated, grabbing her suitcase. Peter gave a forced smile and a nod as she walked out of the room. 

----------

He tried to not worry for the rest of the day, instead trying to find things to distract him. He had explored the main parts of the mansion already, three times over, except for the other occupants' private quarters. Most of their rooms were on the same floor as his, a few being on the floor above. He decided he would just take a peek into them, just so he knew who was where…in case of emergencies, of course. Not because he was curious and bored. 

So far he had determined pretty accurately who’s room each belonged to. Hank’s had to be the one full of science books strewn about everywhere, along with blue fur... And he guessed Raven’s was the one with a severely beaten looking punching bag in it, which he didn’t understand because this place had a fully functional gym. 

He skidded to a stop in front of the room that was located directly next to Charles’, slipping his goggles around his neck. He opened the door slowly, peeking his head inside. The room definitely belonged to a child, he quickly determined as he moved further inside to get a closer look. The walls were decorated with numerous posters, some with comic book characters, and others with science related decorum. He furrowed his brows. Dinosaurs, comic books, space…? This was a wide variety of interests.

“I can’t decide on a favorite subject.” A voice spoke from the doorway.

“Ah!” Peter yelped as he quickly turned around. 

A young boy with light brown hair, blue eyes and a height that was a little taller than Peter, stood in the doorway. This had to be David, Charles’ son. And of course their first encounter was catching Peter breaking into his room.

“I’m sorry!” Peter blurted out, embarrassed that this was his first impression. David on the other hand couldn't seem to care less, giving a shrug as he turned on the room light and walked in, passing Peter and throwing his backpack on his bed.

“It’s alright, I don’t mind. I have nothing to hide.” He said in a steady voice. Peter looked around nervously before deciding the polite thing to do would be to at least introduce himself.

“Um, I’m Peter.” He said awkwardly. David nodded at him.

“I know.” He replied simply. 

“Of course…you’re a mind reader.” Peter stated the obvious.

“Yes. Though I didn’t read your mind. I’m not allowed to do that without permission…my Father told me about you.” He answered. 

“Right…” Peter trailed off, looking to the side. The boy was a little off putting, and Peter was having a hard time getting a read on him and his mood. He didn’t want to be rude though. 

“So…why can’t you decide on a theme for your bedroom?” Peter asked, trying to at least make conversation. David looked around at the numerous posters and decorum that made up the room and its walls. 

“My Dad said it would be good for me to have an interest. I think he wants me to blend in with other kids my age.” He shrugged. “I find it all meaningless. Why should I only pick one? And what if I don’t like any of them? Or what if I find it all interesting?” 

Peter could relate, kind of. He didn’t really have a lot of time to even have a childhood let alone find one thing he really found interesting, other than reading and math…but those didn’t count, they were school related. Him and Wanda would read comics when they had the chance, but they were always just what they could find laying around at whichever foster home they were placed in during the time. 

“I get it.” Peter said. David nodded to himself before speaking.

“Because you were imprisoned for ten months.” 

Peter tried not to grimace at the direct statement. David noticed.

“I’m sorry. That was insensitive.” He said. Peter shook his head.

“It’s okay. It’s true.” He admitted, giving a small reassuring smile to show that his feelings weren’t hurt. David wasn’t like other kids, Peter was quickly realizing. But he also found that refreshing. 

“You could pick one now, if you would like.” David offered. “What did you do before for fun?” He asked Peter, referring to his time before his imprisonment. Peter shrugged.

“I dunno…me and my sister would read comics, sometimes. When we could.” He answered. David suddenly dropped to his knees, climbing halfway under his bed. Peter watched on in confusion. Finally he reappeared, pulling a large storage box out and opening it.

“I have every volume of Batman.” He stated as he took off the lid to the container, revealing dozens of comics. Peter let out a laugh in disbelief. 

“No way!” He exclaimed with a smile as he sat down next to David on the floor. David gave his first smile in Peter’s presence as he took out the first volume.

“So the first one is called ‘The Case of the Chemical Syndicate’ and it’s only six pages long….”

Peter wasn’t sure how much time had passed as both boys sat on the floor reading the comics in order, but for the first time since he had been imprisoned and escaped, his mind was entirely focused on something else. 

“Well, I see an introduction is no longer necessary.” Charles’ voice sounded from the doorway with a smile on his face. 

“He’s barely read any of them, I decided that needed to be rectified immediately.” David said. “It makes sense, foster homes wouldn’t care about each child’s interest, and especially not an experimental lab and prison.” He continued bluntly.

“David!’ Charles exclaimed, opening his mouth again to continue chastising his son for his seemingly insensitiveness. 

“It’s okay!” Peter interrupted him before he could continue. “He’s right, didn’t exactly have a large comic selection at either one.” He said with a smile. David looked up at him quizzically, before slowly returning it with a small one of his own. 

Charles looked at them both in confusion.

“...Right.” He muttered with a furrowed brow, but decided for the time being not to criticize his son. 

“Well, dinner’s in an hour.” He finally said. David gave him a nod and turned back to the comic, and Peter flashed him a thumbs up and a bright smile before turning back to David, Charles finally taking his leave. 

David let out a sigh. 

“Which one were we on?” He asked. Peter picked up the comic they left off on.

“Number eight!” He replied. 

“Right, this one is where Batman captures Big Mike Russo…”

----------

Two days had flown by, especially now that Peter had made a new friend. David was probably the only person his age he had actually legitimately gotten along with, other than his sister of course. After spending more time with him he found his company to not be off putting in the slightest. He was blunt, yes. But Peter could appreciate that. And he wasn’t purposely insensitive, Peter had thick skin, and was not one to be offended easily. 

And David in return seemed to appreciate Peter’s company. He had complained to him that he felt like he was constantly failing his Father’s expectations.

“I’m sure that’s not true!” Peter said confidently. David gave him a look.

“I mean…unless you read his mind?” He added questioningly. David gave a frustrated sigh.

“No, we kind of…block eachother out? Unless we really need to communicate with one another.” David answered. “I’ve gotten a lot better at not looking into people’s minds randomly now.” He added. 

“Can you communicate like a walkie talkie?” Peter asked curiously.

“Yeah, if I wanted to.” He answered. 

“Can you try it with me?” Peter grinned. David smiled back and nodded before closing his eyes in concentration. 

“Ow!” He muttered as he flinched and opened his eyes.

“Peter, your mind is like a blender.” He complained as he rubbed his head. Peter gave a laugh.

“Sorry, your Dad had the same problem. Um…let me do what I did before? Slow my thoughts…” He trailed off, suddenly second guessing this plan. He didn’t want David to see the same memories he had shown Charles. 

“I won’t look into your memories. If that’s what you're afraid of.” David said. Did he and his Dad have the same ‘body language’ reading skills too? Because Peter could have sworn that he had just read his mind.

“Right. Okay, let’s try this again!” Peter said, his smile returning as he too closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind completely. A few moments later it seemed to work.

“Can you hear me?” David’s voice sounded in his head.

“YES” 

David tried not to wince again.

“Think it quieter, Peter.” 

Peter held back another laugh.

“Sorry. Yes!” He thought back in a normal tone. David opened his eyes and smiled triumphantly at Peter.

“This is so cool! We can converse whenever we want now in secret!” Peter thought. David nodded.

“Yes. Just…don’t tell my Dad. I’m pretty sure he’d disapprove.” David’s voice echoed in Peter’s head.

“I won’t! Pinky promise.” Peter said out loud now. David’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Pinky promise?” He asked back. Peter smiled and looped his pinky forcefully around Davids.

“Only the most ultimate of promises!” He exclaimed. David smiled back.

“Alright, pinky promise.”

WEEK FOUR

It had been a couple of weeks since he had arrived at the mansion, and he finally felt like he belonged somewhere. He only wished he could share that feeling with his Dad and Sister. It was getting more difficult by the day to try and pretend that everything was okay, that it was normal. He knew it wasn’t for everyone else, he wasn’t so naive to think that he was the only one who was feeling this way. 

There had been no new leads…that he knew of, anyhow. The adults had their meetings in Charles’ study every night, but he figured that if there was any serious headway or new found knowledge that they would at least let him know. 

He had gotten to meet some more of the mansions/schools residents and future teachers though. Alex had stopped for a day as he was passing through, having been helping try to find Erik and deal with his little brother's newly manifested mutation. He seemed to have his hands full for sure. Sean had also stopped by during that time. He seemed cool and pretty laid back. Also, he was apparently the one who had been pushed off the roof by Erik. Peter hadn’t laughed so hard in a while as Sean retold the story to him. So yes, Peter had so far all positive encounters and introductions to the friends of his Father. 

Today’s schedule consisted of Peter taking a series of academic tests to gauge what level of education and grade he would eventually be placed in. He didn’t have a problem with that, but just when he thought he was done Hank would place another packet in front of him. Though he got through them in record time, it was starting to get annoying and tiresome. 

“I have to go down to the lab for a little bit, finish these three while I’m gone, okay?” Hank said as he placed another pile of papers on Peter’s table before walking out of the library. Peter let out an audible groan as he let his forehead fall to the table. He needed a break ! This had to count as a form of child abuse. He convinced himself that he was starting to feel lightheaded. He couldn’t possibly complete these last packets when he was about to pass out, a snack break was essential. 

He sped to the other side of the mansion where the kitchen was located, planning on having the rest of the pizza they had ordered last night and of course one of Magda’s specially made shakes, she was still very insistent that he eat a balanced diet and probably wouldn’t approve of leftover pizza being a healthy snack, but he was starving ! Peter skidded to a stop in the kitchen, furrowing his brows as he did so.

“Hey!” He exclaimed to the giant figure that was currently eating his leftover pizza in front of the open fridge while grabbing a carton of milk out of it. 

“ Fuck! ” The man cursed in surprise as he turned around, bone-white claws extending from his hand and stabbing a hole through the milk carton he was grabbing for.

“It’s cool, but it’s disgusting.” Peter commented as he stared at the man’s claws that had just emerged from his skin. This had to be Logan, or otherwise known as Wolverine. 

“The hell is wrong with you kid? Don’t sneak up on people, especially me.” The man practically growled, flinging the now destroyed carton of milk into the trash. Peter rolled his eyes, he didn’t sneak up on him. He literally walked into the kitchen…okay, so he kind of appeared out of nowhere. But it wasn’t his fault the guy wasn’t paying attention.

“Or what? The carton of orange juice is gonna be your next victim?” This dude had eaten all of Peter’s leftovers! 

“Lucky it wasn’t your head.” Logan muttered as he finished the last slice, Peter looking on in anguish.

“That was gonna be my lunch!” Peter complained, crossing his arms in frustration. Logan shrugged, his claws retracting.

“Didn’t see your name on it.” He said before turning back to the fridge and grabbing a drink. Not just any drink, Peter’s shake. 

With.His.Name.On.It.

That’s it! Peter slipped into super speed, grabbing the shake from Logan’s hands and speeding back to his spot a few feet away, just in case he got all clawy again. Logan looked at his now empty hand in surprise.

“Would you look at that? My name! Right there.” Peter said, pointing to his name written clearly in Magda’s handwriting. “You got some nerve, dude.” 

“Shit. You’re Erik’s spawn.” He muttered to himself in sudden realization. Peter gaped, because he could still hear him.

“Rude. But yes.” He answered with pride.

Logan scoffed as he studied Peter. 

“Hm. Should have realized that right away.” He said as he settled on a bottle of water, finally closing the refrigerator. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Was that an insult? Peter wasn’t sure. 

“Nothing, kid. I’m Logan.” He finally introduced himself. Peter sped over to one of the stools at the counter, taking a sip of his shake.

“Yeah, I kind of figured that out…ya know, with the claws and stuff.” Peter answered, staring the man down. Logan smirked, leaning against the counter next to the fridge with his arms crossed. 

“Got his glare down.” He commented with a slight nod. Peter frowned lightly. 

“You and my Dad…you guys didn’t get along. Before, I mean.” Logan raised an eyebrow.

“He told you a lot, didn’t he?” He said in surprise. Peter resisted the urge to roll his eyes again.

“Everyone keeps saying that. We spent four months in a cell together, so yeah, he did.” Erik had told Peter a lot more about himself than Peter had to him. He tried not to feel guilty again, tried not to think about all the things he now wanted to tell his Dad. 

“Alright, fair enough. Yeah, your Dad and I had a rough history.” He said matter of factly. “But, it got better. He changed. I changed…things altogether changed. Found ourselves on equal ground, I guess.” He shrugged, taking a swig from his water bottle. Peter nodded to himself. 

“You were looking for him.” Peter stated knowingly. Logan let out a sigh.

“Yeah.” He answered simply.

“You…you find anything?” Peter already knew the answer.

“No.” Logan replied, confirming what Peter already knew. “Had a possible lead up in Alaska. A rumored base, or lab maybe. Nothing came from it though. Was just an abandoned warehouse of what we think housed some instruments and supplies they may have used. But no, nothing concrete.” He answered truthfully, which Peter appreciated.

“Right.” Peter said, staring at his now empty bottle. 

“Your Dad can be an asshole. But he’s strong, that’s for sure.” Logan said, trying to give Peter hope? Peter would have laughed if he wasn’t feeling so disheartened at the moment. Luckily Hank decided to barge in the kitchen at that moment to distract Peter from his quickly spiraling dark thoughts.

“Peter! You didn’t finish your packets.” He complained. 

“He ate my leftovers!” Peter quickly deflected the attention off himself, pointing an accusing finger at Logan, who didn’t look an ounce guilty. Hank let out a sigh.

“We have other food, have a sandwich.” He offered. Peter let out a frustrated groan. 

“Whatever, nevermind. I’ll go finish the tests. Bye, Logan! Don’t eat my crap!” Peter called out before speeding off back to the library. He sat down and dutifully worked on his packets, trying to keep his mind from wandering to where his Dad and Sister could possibly be. It was getting harder to pretend that everything was okay.

WEEK FIVE

“Here, what about this one?” Peter tossed the comic that Wanda had just passed him to the side 

“I already read it.” He answered. Wanda rolled her eyes at his response.

“Well we have three to choose from, so pick one.” This was their nighttime routine, reading a comic together before bed. Since they didn’t have actual parents to read them stories, and their foster parents sure as hell weren’t going to volunteer. Peter let out a sigh before grabbing a Superman comic.

“We’ve read this one the least amount.” He finally decided as they started to flip through it together in their shared twin sized bed. The other occupants in the room had already fallen asleep, so Peter and Wanda had created their own makeshift blanket fort along with an old flashlight they had found.

“You think our Dad could be a Superhero?” Peter wondered out loud as he turned another page. Wanda scoffed.

“What? Like Superman? Don’t think he’d leave his kids at the stairs of an orphanage.” She muttered. 

“Hey, we don’t know for sure he knew.” Peter defended their unknown Father. 

“True…but I’m pretty sure he isn’t a hero. Probably like a car salesman or something.” Wanda said. Peter scrunched up his face in disappointment. 

“Nah…we’re too cool to have car salesman's genes.” Wanda laughed quietly in agreement. 

“Maybe he was a doctor?” She suggested.

“Maybe he’s like Batman.” Peter offered instead. Wanda let out a sigh.

“You need to lower your expectations.” She flipped to the last page. 

“Batman adopted an orphan, maybe we can find one who will want us?” Peter said. 

“We don’t need someone to save us.” Wanda answered sternly. “As long as we stick together.” She continued, bumping her shoulder against Peter’s. He smirked and shoved back, quickly turning into a scuffle as the two of them started to laugh. 

“Shut the hell up in there!” A muffled voice yelled through the wall. Peter and Wanda covered their mouths with their hands, still suppressing their laughter. 

“As long as we stick together.” Peter repeated with a smile. Wanda’s smile dropped.

“Yeah…that’s what we promised each other.” She started. “So why did you leave?”

“What?” Peter asked in confusion, looking at Wanda. 

“Why did you leave, Peter? You said you’d find me, but you never came.” Her expression was blank. 

“I-I did!” Peter answered frantically. “I did look! I promise I did, Wanda. You weren’t there.” He defended himself. Wanda let out a cold laugh.

“Sure you did. You were glad to get rid of me, weren’t you? And look at you now. Living in a mansion, the life we would fantasize about.” She said, her voice echoing in his head. Peter shook his head in denial.

“No! It isn’t like that! We’re–I’m looking for you, Wanda! I haven’t given up, I promise. P-please don’t–”  The scene suddenly changed, Peter was back in the cell he had been imprisoned in for almost ten months.  

Peter was near his cot in the usual corner of the room that he occupied, his Dad in the one he stayed in the first few weeks of his arrival. 

“Erik.” Peter muttered to himself. “D-dad.” He corrected nervously as he walked closer to him. The man wasn’t moving, eyes closed. Peter walked slowly toward him, kneeling down next to him and shaking his shoulder. 

“Hey, it’s me…Peter.” He said weakly, shaking him harder. He wasn’t waking up, he wasn’t breathing…

“Please don’t be–” He was suddenly being held up against the wall by his throat. He clawed desperately at the arms holding him, trying to get a breath in. He blinked back tears and his vision cleared, showing the face of the person holding him, the face of Shaw. 

“My boy, you shouldn’t have run. The consequences for your Father were…dire.” He finished calmly, Peter still clawing at the man’s arms. Shaw’s hand that wasn’t holding his throat latched onto Peter’s left arm, around the scar the man had left on him. 

“But I guess you’ll always remember, either way. I did say to wear this with pride.” His grip on his arm tightened painfully, Peter’s vision was beginning to get blurry. 

“You’ve killed them both. You foolish, insolent bo–”

Peter shot up in his bed, gasping for breath as his hands held his throat. He took in deep stuttered breaths, trying to slow his breathing to a calmer rate. He wiped away tears as he buried his face in his blanket covered knees. His body was shaking from fear and anxiety as he replayed what he had just dreamt. He willed himself to keep breathing even breaths, forcing himself to focus on just that for the time being and pushing out any other thoughts. 

Ten minutes later and he finally calmed his heart rate and breathing down to a normal level. He rubbed his face roughly and glanced at the clock beside his bed. The time reading half past one in the morning. No way could he go back to sleep after that.

He hadn’t had a dream like that before. One that gathered all of his fears and failures into a single nightmare. It wasn’t surprising though, not with the way he had been feeling lately. He let out a defeated sigh, deciding that maybe a snack or drink would help, even though he had absolutely no appetite at the moment. 

He walked at a normal pace through the hallway and down the stairs, not feeling like using his power at the moment. He took careful steps down the long staircase, again trying not to replay over and over what he had just dreamt. But he knew this one would be sticking with him for a while. He got to the bottom of the stairs, walking down the hallway that led to the kitchen. He slowed down though as he got close to the doorway to the main living area, hearing a light noise coming from the room.

He stopped just before getting to it and listened closer. It sounded like sniffling, or muffled crying. Peter stepped into the doorway to look into the room. Magda sat on the couch in front of the fireplace, wiping her face of the tears that were still falling down her cheeks as she stared into the fire. She noticed him fairly quickly, the doorway being ten feet or so the side of the fireplace. She wiped her face again.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked softly before she could speak. Magda let out a wet laugh, shaking her head slightly. 

“Rough night.” She said back with a sad smile. “Why are you awake?” 

“Rough night.” Peter repeated back in a whisper. Magda nodded, holding her arms out invitingly. Peter immediately walked forward, quickly climbing onto the couch beside her and leaning into her awaiting embrace. Her arms wrapped around him firmly and he sank into her hug, closing his eyes tightly. She rested her cheek on his head, staring back into the fire. 

“Did you have a bad dream?” Peter whispered once again. He felt her sigh.

“No…I’m just…” She took a deep breath. “I’m just sad.” Peter nodded in understanding. 

“Did you have a bad dream?”  She asked him back. Peter opened his eyes and turned his gaze to the burning flame in the fireplace. 

“Yes…” He answered sadly. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked softly. Peter was silent for a few moments before replying.

“Usually my nightmares are just memories…but this one was different. I just…” He trailed off, trying to find the words. “I just feel like I failed them. I’m scared they blame me.” Peter finished, taking in a shaky breath at his admission. He felt Magda’s hand move to his hair as she began to run her fingers through it comfortingly. 

“I can see how that can be scarier than the actual memories. The what if’s…” She said, “But Peter, I promise you, that’s not how they feel. You haven’t failed anyone.” Peter closed his eyes again at her statement, willing back tears as he leaned his head against her. 

“I miss them so much.” He whispered miserably. He felt her hug him tighter. 

“I know.” She whispered back. 

----------

“--not getting any easier, Charles. It’s near maddening.”

Peter opened his eyes slowly from his spot on the couch to the sound of distant voices coming from the kitchen. He had fallen asleep next to Magda after their talk last night, and noticed that he was also covered in a quilt now. He laid still on his side, staring blankly into the now burnt out embers in the fireplace, the slowly rising sunlight was starting to filter through the windows. 

“I know, Magda…believe me, I know.” Charles' seemingly frustrated voice replied. “We are trying, I promise you that.” 

“I know you all are, I don’t mean to be ungrateful, I just…I just feel like I should be doing more.” Magda admitted in a forlorn voice. Peter let out a breath, feeling a bit relieved that he wasn’t the only one feeling that way, but feeling bad that Magda was feeling the same as him. 

“You were out there for months, Magda. And right now that boy needs you. He needs stability.” Peter furrowed his brow, he hadn’t realized Magda had been out searching for Erik that long before he had gotten here…and now she wasn’t, because of him? He immediately felt guilty. What if she wanted to be out there right now looking for Erik? And the only reason she wasn’t was because Peter had suddenly shown up and messed up all their plans?

“ I know. I know this is the right place for me to be at the moment. I have no doubt about that, Charles.” She answered back a bit snappy. “I’m sorry.” She immediately apologized with a frustrated sigh. “I just wish we had cerebro working, so we could at least locate Wanda…” 

“It will take time, unfortunately. We’re basically building it back from scratch.” Peter frowned, still laying on his side and silently cursed the group that was guilty of destroying the machine that was probably the only hope of finding his sister. They had used the cover identities of construction workers hired to help build on to the school to gain access to the mansion, and then used that advantage to successfully take out the most powerful telepathic amplifying machine in the world. 

“I think a sense of normalcy will help him tremendously though.” Charles continued. Peter held back a scoff. He was going stir crazy. 

“He’s hurting, Charles.” Magda sounded heartbroken. Peter held back more tears of frustration, angry at himself once again for worrying her even more. 

“I know. So are you.” Charles answered back softly. There was silence for minutes after his response, the only sounds from the kitchen being that of breakfast being made. Peter moved onto his back, staring at the ceiling. He would need to try and pretend to be normal…to act like he wasn’t constantly on the verge of falling apart. They didn’t all need to worry more than they already were. 

Peter stared resolutely forward, determination settling in. Yes, he could do that. He’d done it plenty of times before, and he would do it again.

WEEK SIX

Peter was getting better at putting on a happy facade…or at least a normal one. And the part that made him feel the most guilty was that it wasn’t always fake. He found himself genuinely smiling and laughing with others, and would feel almost immediate shame. How dare he feel any sort of peace and happiness while his Father and Sister were both still missing? 

He spent a lot of time with Magda, helping her in the clinic and listening to her many stories of Erik and everyone else. He in turn would tell her about him and his sister, and he found himself genuinely feeling happy around her and the other’s that resided in the mansion. Hank was fascinated by his test scores apparently, going on about the endless possibility and potential his brain speed would have as he grew older. Peter got tired of listening after the tenth minute of Hank going on about the ‘rate of neurons’. Again, there was only so much of one subject at a time that Peter had the patience for.

Peter knew that he wasn’t the only one putting on a brave face though. He knew that already for sure with Magda after last week. She was having just as hard of a time as Peter was, but he also wanted to make sure that he didn’t make her feel any worse, so he especially tried to stay positive around her.

Raven was gone for almost a week now, having left with Logan. Peter didn’t know where, but he hoped wherever they had gone proved to be more successful than any of the previous leads they had followed. Charles seemed stressed lately, almost constantly on his phone in his study or working on Cerebro with Hank. Everyone seemed to be trying their best to help in some way or another, and yet Peter was only just a child. And he felt as helpless as ever.

“Hm…maybe, Pistachio. That’s actually one of my favorites.” David muttered from the floor of his room where he was lying on his back. 

One of the things Peter was most grateful for was having a friend his age to help distract him from the neverending angst that was the rest of his life. 

“Gross. Definitely Rocky Road.” Peter said from the end of David's bed where he was lying on his stomach, a comic book laid open in front of him. They were debating what the best ice cream flavors were. 

“Rum Raisin.” 

Peter made a disgusted face, turning toward David in mock outrage. 

“Dude.” He replied as David smiled. 

“Okay, maybe not that. But I stand by Pistachio. Only if it’s homemade though.” 

“I’ve only had store bought.” Peter shrugged as David turned his head toward him, raising an eyebrow. Peter let out a sigh.

“I’ve only had store stolen. ” He corrected with an eye roll and David laughed, sitting up. 

“Best place, hands down, is Eddie's Sweet Shop in New York City. My Dad took me there last trip.” David said with a small smile. Peter returned it with one of his own.

“Sounds awesome. Man, what I wouldn’t give for some ice cream right now.” He replied with another sigh. He really wanted something sweet now, all this talking about dessert was making him hungry. 

“Well…we’re only an hour drive or so away from the city…” David trailed off. “Which would be how long for you?”

Peter thought for a moment before answering. “Like…five minutes, maybe? Give or take.” He shrugged. “But I can’t leave the grounds.” Man…ice cream sounded really good right now though. And he had never had it real homemade! 

“Besides, I’d trigger the alarm system.” He added, remembering Hank’s very sensitive and regularly updated gate security system. David went silent, a far away look in his eyes taking over. 

“What if I told you he was updating it right now? And that it was going to be down for the next thirty minutes?” He said conspiringly. Peter gave a smirk as he stood up, shoving his shoes and goggles on.

“I’d say that rule sounded more like a guideline anyway, and I’ll make it back in less than ten minutes combined!” He started to tie his shoes tighter. 

“Oh wait! I don’t have any money…and I really don’t want to steal if I can help it.” He muttered truthfully. David rolled his eyes and stood up, walking over to his desk and opening a drawer with a bin in it and a map.

“Here, I got plenty of allowance money! And…here’s the location” He stated as he shoved a wad of bills in Peter’s hands and pointed out the location of the store on the map, Peter quickly filing it away in his memory. 

“Now remember, Pistachio and Rocky Road for sure! But definitely get some others if you can.” He said excitedly, Peter nodding frantically along, his own excitement of finally getting to run a real distance off the mansion grounds taking over. 

“Totally! I’ll get it back here before it even has a chance to melt!” He said confidently before he finally set off, bypassing the door and front gate in less than a second. It was near eight at night, so he didn’t worry as much about being seen. Not that he would need to anyway, with the speed he was now able to reach. He didn’t stop smiling the entire run into the city, having to hold himself back from stopping and taking in the sites. He’d have chances to do that in the future, right now he was on a time sensitive mission!

He made it to the shop, getting samples of just about every flavor and having them packaged up in a thermal bag before he set off again back home. He basked in the freedom for the few minutes that it took him to run. He had run plenty at the mansion, but that was only on the grounds or on the track there. He hadn’t actually been off the property but a few times since he had gotten there, mostly for shopping trips. This was the first time he had left it on his own, and he didn’t think he had ever run this fast in his life. He let out an elated laugh at the feeling before the mansion's gates once again came into view.

He sped in-between the bars of the gate and through the front door, up the stairs, and finally back into David's room. He skidded to a stop, panting slightly from running at possibly his fastest speed yet. 

“Fifteen flavors of homemade NYC ice cream!” Peter announced with a breathless smile, setting the bag down on the floor before plopping down beside it, an exhausted but elated laugh escaping from him as he laid on his back. David let out a laugh along with him as he too sat down, opening the bag with a smile.

“Yes! Prepare to taste the best ice cream ever made.” David announced as he began to take out the plastic spoons. 

“Man, that couldn’t have gone smoother.” Peter said with a smile as he finally sat back up.

“I imagine it could have, actually.” A voice from the door said dryly. Peter and David turned their heads sharply towards the voice, Charles staring at them disapprovingly. 

“Shit” David’s voice echoed in Peter’s head.

“Shit” Peter replied back.

----------

“ What were you thinking? New York City? For Ice Cream?” Charles exclaimed, Magda standing beside him. Peter and David were standing guiltily in front of the two adults, now located in Charles’ study. Peter wanted to voice that it was really good, top of the line homemade ice cream that he hadn’t even gotten to try yet. But he figured that comment wouldn’t go over too well. 

“Peter, what if you had gotten injured? Sprained your ankle? There would have been no way of knowing where you were.” Magda added, rubbing her brow tiredly. “Not to mention the threat of you having been taken again.” Peter’s guilt amplified as he saw the worry and fear grace Magda’s face.

“I mean, the probability of that is pretty low actually. Even if we were under constant surveillance, the speed at which Peter was moving is almost near undetectable.” David said way too confidently as Peter stared at him in disbelievement. The other boy didn’t even falter. 

“And you, young man! You're just as guilty in all of this as Peter.” Charles stated, turning his attention to his own son. David gave a nod.

“I know. It was my idea.” He said. 

“No it wasn’t!” Peter defended him…even though it kind of was. But no way was he letting his friend take all the blame! That was the number one rule of friendship, go down together…he guessed, he only really had Wanda as a friend but that was also their rule so it worked just as well in this scenario. 

“It was.” David looked at Peter like he was crazy.

“It wasn’t!” Peter replied once again. 

“Stop it, both of you.” Charles groaned, closing his eyes with a sigh. Magda stood, studying both of them with her arms crossed.

“Alright, there obviously needs to be a consequence for this.” He muttered, Magda nodding in agreement beside him. 

“I will accept any form of punishment you deem necessary, Father.” David replied in a solemn voice, bowing his head. Charles gave an exasperated sigh at his sudden dramatics. Peter went to speak again before a voice echoed in his head.

“Please, for the love of everything, just let me take the blame, Peter.” Peter was surprised that David had even attempted to contact him telepathically mere feet in front of his Father.

“Sorry, no can do. It’s the friend code, can’t break it.” Peter replied back, shaking his head slightly at David. 

“Are…are you two talking to each other telepathically?!” Charles exclaimed in disbelievement. The two boys whipped their heads towards him.

“What?” They both asked at the same time, attempting to feign innocence, but failing to do a very good job. Magda covered her mouth with her palm, trying to hide a smile of amusement. 

“It isn’t funny, Magda.” Charles muttered exhaustingly, now rubbing his brow.

“It is quite ironic, Erik’s son is a natural telepathic deterrent and decides willingly to converse with one.” She said with a slight smile. Erik had a long complicated history with telepaths and their sometimes invasive privy into his mind. Magda cleared her throat and dropped her smile.

“But Charles is correct, and you’re both at equal fault for the matter. And there needs to be…consequences.” Magda said, seeming unsure of her choice of words. Charles nodded in agreement. 

Peter wasn’t scared, he knew logically that they wouldn’t punish him physically…he was pretty sure, anyway. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. He glanced over at David to see if he could get a read on the other boy. He looked completely relaxed, almost bored even.

“Right then. You’re both, um…grounded!” Magda said firmly. 

“Weren’t we technically already grounded befo—” Peter was cut off by David.

“We accept!” He said quickly. 

“Also…no video games.” Charles added. 

Peter had never played a video game in his life. 

David gave a dramatically fake sigh of acceptance as Peter looked on in absolute confusion. 

“And no desserts tomorrow!” Magda finally listed the last punishment, which was actually the most hurtful for Peter because he really did look forward to his sweets after dinner every night now. 

“Um…okay.” Peter finally spoke. “I really am sorry…I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He said truthfully, looking at Magda. He really did feel guilty for making her worry. She gave him a small reassuring smile.

“My sincere apologies as well.” David added.

“Alright, you can cool it with the dramatics now, David.” Charles told his son, seeming to be familiar with this behavior. 

“Can we go now?” David asked, crossing his arms. 

“Yes, yes. Straight to your rooms though!” Magda ordered, trying to seem stern. 

“And we’re keeping these.” Charles added, holding up the thermal bag filled with ice cream.

Peter walked out of the room numbly, following David into the hallway. 

“That was…weird.” Peter mumbled, walking beside David now. “Is that normal with families? Like, is that really the only punishment we’re getting?” He had no idea what a normal family dynamic was like and this certainly didn’t seem the blueprint for one. David rolled his eyes.

“Dad has no idea what he’s doing as a parent half the time. And Magda is definitely new to it. So no, it’s not normal.” He shrugged. “But count that as a blessing.” 

Peter almost froze mid-step. Magda saw herself as his parent…? Or maybe she didn’t. He tried not to think deeper into the comment, though he couldn’t help but feel a bit hopeful that maybe she really did see herself as his parent, as his…

He stopped his trail of thought before it sent him spiraling once again. David grabbed his arm to stop him as they got to his room.

“They said straight to our rooms, David! I don’t wanna get in more trouble.” Peter muttered to his friend, standing with him in the doorway of David’s room. David held up a finger and walked into his room, quickly walking back out with a single styrofoam container along with a spoon and shoving it into Peter’s hands.

“Here, I managed to snag it before my Dad took the bag.” He whispered with a smirk. Peter smiled widely back. 

“Thanks!” Peter replied excitedly, the door opening down the hall causing both the boys' heads to turn. 

“Better go before they see it.” David said, waving at Peter before retreating back into his room. Peter sped further down the hall into his own room, immediately shutting his door and moving to sit on his bed, ice cream and spoon in hand. It was starting to melt, but it was still the best ice cream he had ever tasted. He smiled as he took another bite, savoring the taste and his new found friendship and family. 

WEEK SEVEN

Peter appreciated the situation he was in. He knew he was lucky to be safe and healthy now with people who seemed to genuinely care about him and his well being, but despite all of that, he still felt lost. He figured this feeling wouldn’t leave until he was finally reunited with his Sister and Father…whenever that would be. It was almost starting to feel how it did in the prison…the feeling of uncertainty. Peter would feel immediate guilt after thinking that, because this was not at all comparable to the prison and how dare he even think it could even be close to similar. 

But everyday he would wonder what Wanda and his Dad were doing at the exact same moment. Were they scared? Erik was likely miserable, that wasn’t a hard one to guess. But what about Wanda? Was she even safe, wherever she was at? Cerebro was now estimated to be only a few weeks from being finished, according to Hank's tentative calculation. Peter need something to happen soon or he really was going to start running state to state to begin looking.

Though that would be harder to do now without it staying a secret…

“Uh, what the crap Hank?” Peter exclaimed as he ran into his room to find every single pair of his shoes strewn about on the floor, Hank sitting in the middle of the pile with a syringe. 

“Oh, hi Peter! Was looking for you earlier. You’re really difficult to find, you know that?” Hank stated as he turned his attention back to his task, which was injecting…something into the sole of Peter’s shoe. 

“Okay…” Peter looked on in confusion. “Dude, what are you doing to my shoes?” He finally exclaimed.

“I’m injecting them with new state of the art microscopic tracking devices!” Hank said excitedly, setting a shoe aside and reaching for another one. Peter let out a loud groan.

“Is this because I ran off last week? That was one time!” Man, were they really that freaked out by it? He understood that it was stupid and wreckless but did they really have to resort to this?

“Oh, that? No. This has been planned for awhile, I just had to perfect it.” He set another shoe in the pile. “Everyone gets one, don’t worry!” Peter eyed the ten pairs of shoes.

“Does everyone get twenty of them then?” He asked dryly. Hank let out a laugh.

“No, just you. I’ve put one in something that everyone seems to have on them at all times. Magda’s bracelet, David’s watch, Charles’...wheelchair. I hope he doesn’t ever happen to get kidnapped without it. Eh, I’ll find somewhere else to put on him.” Hank shrugged to himself.

Peter observed him for a minute before sitting down on his bed. 

“Here, give me those, would you?” Hank asked, gesturing to the shoes Peter currently had on his feet. He took them off and handed them to the man.

“You have a lot of shoes.” Hank stated as he finished with the last pair. Peter shrugged.

“I go through a lot.” He muttered back. “So…this is all just precautionary?” Peter asked. Hank nodded before replying. 

“Yes, figured if any more of us get kidnapped then at least we have a way of finding the other. Charles thought it was a good idea.” 

Peter couldn’t help but agree. He wished his Dad had one when he was taken…

Hank stood up, brushing his hands together. 

“Well, let me know if you get any new pairs of shoes!” He ruffled Peter’s hair.

"Uh-huh. Thanks for the total lack of respect for my privacy." Peter mumbled back.

"Anytime!" Hank replied cheerfully before leaving the room.

Peter picked up a shoe, examining the sole of it closely. He couldn’t even tell where Hank had injected the tracker in it. He set it down before laying back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Just a few more weeks and they would maybe have a location on Wanda. He willed for time to move faster.

----------

Peter had a hard time sleeping these days. He had an especially hard time falling asleep. His thoughts seemed to never slow down and his mind wouldn’t seem to shut off enough for him to easily fall asleep. It was the only part he missed about being powerless. At least his mind seemed calmer then…

He turned in his bed for what seemed to be the tenth time, letting out an annoyed and frustrated sigh. He eyed his bedside clock, it reading a little after eleven. He finally sat up, giving up temporarily on sleep. Maybe he should just take a little walk around the mansion…at normal speed of course, not wanting to risk waking someone up with another knocked over vase. He learned his lesson last time, he remembered with a slight grimace.

Peter stood up, walking out into the hallway and covering his mouth with his hand as he let out a yawn. He stopped in front of Magda’s door, noticing the light coming through under the door. It looked like he wasn’t the only one who wasn’t sleeping at the current hour. He hesitated slightly before lightly knocking on the door, Magda’s soft reply to ‘come in’ immediately following. He peeked his face in. 

Magda was sitting crossed legged in the middle of the large king sized bed, drowned in an oversized sweater. Papers were strewn about in front of her as she looked up from them. She smiled softly when she looked at Peter.

“Can’t sleep?” She guessed. Peter shook his head slightly and she held out her hand. He immediately responded to her wordless invitation and sped up to the bed, climbing up onto it and sitting beside her. 

“My mind won’t shut off.” He mumbled tiredly with a sigh, glancing at the papers she had placed in front of her. 

“I have that problem too, sometimes.” She said, ruffling his hair slightly. “Though yours, I suspect, is much more active and faster moving.” Magda smiled, rubbing her thumb over his forehead. Peter laughed lightly, already feeling more at ease than he did with only his own thoughts alone in his bedroom. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, turning back to glance at the papers. Magda let out a long sigh.

“Nothing exciting. Going over some old intel, some old records of shut down and abandoned labs from years ago…” She trailed off, “Just looking to see if anything we had maybe missed before popped out.”

“I can help.” Peter offered, looking up at her. Magda shook her head.

“I don’t think that would help you sleep, Peter. Believe me.” She said as she began to stack the papers. “Besides, I’ve looked at them dozens of times now. It’s just something to keep my mind occupied at this point. Keep me from going stir crazy with my own thoughts.” 

“I get that…” Peter said as she sorted the rest of the papers, setting them aside on the nightstand. He smiled to himself as he thought back to the first couple of weeks when his Dad was imprisoned with him, and how the man would talk endlessly to keep his own mind occupied.

“What’s got you smiling?” Magda asked curiously.

“Just…the first few weeks, when Dad was put in the cell with me. I wouldn’t talk to him, I didn’t trust him.” Peter smiled sadly before continuing. “I think the silence was driving him mad.” He said with a light laugh, Magda smiling with him. 

“He talked so much about all of you. Said one of his happiest days was when you guys got married.” Peter said with a wide grin, Magda let out a laugh. 

“God, it rained almost the entire day.” She said with a small sigh, a sad smile taking over her face. She suddenly moved over to the side of the bed, opening a drawer to the nightstand and taking out a photo album. She moved back beside Peter before opening to the first page. 

“It was a happy day though, despite the weather.” Peter looked at the pictures, numerous ones of Magda in a simple white dress and Erik in a tailored fitting suit. Not as formal as he would have thought, but fitting for the two of them. Peter smiled as she flipped through the pages, pictures of happy guests, everyone with carefree smiles. 

“Everyone looks so happy…” He said, trying to keep his smile from falling. Four years ago…him and Wanda would have been about four or five. 

“We’ll have to have another one now.” Magda said definitively as she turned to the last page. Peter looked up at her in confusion.

“Another one?” He asked with a furrowed brow. Magda looked down at him with a smile.

“Of course! With you and Wanda there.” 

“You…you want us…?” Peter didn’t finish his sentence. She wanted another wedding with him and Wanda there? Everytime he doubted her sincere feelings of Erik having two children who weren’t hers, she always seemed to erase any concern he had.

“Peter…you and Wanda, you’re part of our lives now. Part of my life.” She started. “I-I don’t mean to overstep, if you aren’t comfortable–”

“You’re not!” Peter interrupted her. “Overstepping, I mean.” He said with a grin before leaning his head against her arm. She lifted her arm, wrapping it around his shoulders as she leaned her head on his. 

“We can be a family, if you want.” She said in a light voice. Peter closed his eyes, holding back tears. He really didn’t want to cry in front of her again. 

“I’d like that very much.” He managed to mutter into her sweater. He felt her place a firm kiss on his head. 

“I would too.” She whispered back.

WEEK EIGHT

Time seemed to slow down drastically now that there was a real estimated time frame of completion for Cerebro. This was difficult for Peter since time already seemed to go slower for him than everyone else. He tried not counting down the hours and days, especially since it wasn’t even a sure prediction in the first place. But still, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit of hope finally bloom inside him. Hope that he would at least have a chance to find his sister now.

His hope kept dwindling in finding his Dad though, not hearing any news whatsoever of any leads or signs of where he could possibly be located. Peter had never hated anyone as much as he did Shaw. Every time he thought of the man his hand drifted to the scar that graced his arm. He kept a bandage wrapped around it still, even though Magda had deemed it thoroughly healed now. He still hadn’t worked up the courage to look at it, Magda and Charles never pressed him on the matter. 

He had started school the past week…sort of. It was technically only him and David, so it all felt pretty unofficial. But still, he was glad for the distraction. The weather had started to warm slowly, winter finally beginning to come to an end. 

Peter had been here for about a month and half now, though at times it seemed so much longer than that. Maybe it was because his Dad had talked about this place and all the people in it so often that it started to feel like Peter had already known them. Or maybe it was because everyone was so accepting right away. Either way, Peter was forever grateful to each of them.

Today was quiet, the rain outside falling steadily throughout the morning as Peter and David both sat in the library, focused on their individual studies. Peter wasn’t even sure what grade he was technically in, Hank instead just giving him a variety of subjects at different levels for the time being to complete, but Peter didn’t care. He had missed almost an entire year of school altogether, he was just happy to feel some sense of normalcy again. 

“Hey losers.” Though he still didn’t consider his life very normal. Peter and David both looked to the entrance of the library to find Raven peeking her head in.

“You’re back!” Peter exclaimed with a smile. Raven had been gone for the past couple of weeks, and as much as Peter hoped she had found any evidence of his Father’s whereabouts he didn’t get too excited. Still…he had to ask.

“Anything?” Was all he had to say. Raven’s smile dropped as she shook her head. Peter gave her a small smile in return, trying to reassure her that he was alright. He was used to that answer now. 

“Ew, school work? You guys allowed a recess break or something?” She asked as she walked over to them.

“Aren’t you eventually going to be a teacher here?” David asked her. 

“Or something, yeah. But I’m not now and I bought home some top of the line Taffy from Oregon if you two wanna blow this joint and stuff your faces with some candy.” She said as she ruffled Peter’s hair with a smile. 

“You know, I was feeling pretty lightheaded. My blood sugar must be low.” Peter laughed as he shut his book and stood up.

“Tearing us away from our precious education, what would my Father say?” David said with a small smile of his own. Raven went over and ruffled his hair next. 

“I dunno, but I know my favorite nephew would never rat me out.” She replied teasingly. David rolled his eyes.

“I’m your only nephew…I hope.” He muttered the last part as they all walked toward the kitchen. Raven let out a cackle.

“Shit, I hope so too kid. You’re all popping up out of nowhere like weeds now.” 

They spent a good part of the afternoon talking with Raven and devouring the numerous treats she had brought for them. Peter attempted to put on a happy face, trying to keep the once again disappointing news from ruining his day. He was getting better at pretending, though he knew that sometimes he was projecting the way he really felt, if David’s semi-concerned glances towards him had anything to say.

“Only a couple of weeks now until Cerebro is estimated to be fixed.” David mentioned later that evening as they lounged about in his room, a new batch of comics strewn in front of the two on the floor.

“Yeah.” Peter replied with a fake smile. David studied him for a moment.

“You’re not excited?” He was worried. Peter felt immediate guilt. 

“I just…I don’t want to get my hopes up.” He was tired of getting let down. And just because Cerebro would soon be functional did not guarantee that they would be able to find Wanda with it. Even Peter knew better than to think that. David gave a nod.

“I understand. Just becaus–” He suddenly stopped mid sentence, sitting straight up now, his body tensing. Peter sat up also from where he was laying on the floor.

“What’s the matter?” Peter asked urgently. 

“Something’s happening.” David answered with a furrowed brow, a glazed look overcoming his face and eyes. He was listening to something. He took a sharp breath.

“ What, David?” Peter insisted again. It had to be something really important to cause this reaction from his friend.

“The adults are having a meeting in the study…my Dad, Magda, Raven, Logan and Hank.” He stopped for a moment, seeming to continue listening to whatever conversation was being had. He was definitely breaking his Father’s set rules, but Peter could care less about that at the moment. Wanting desperately to know what projected feelings had gotten David’s attention of the current conversation being held. He turned his gaze to Peter.

“They found something, I think…your Da–”

Peter didn’t bother listening to the rest of his sentence before he took off running down the hall, stopping outside the study door in less than a second. He pressed his ear to the door.

“Are you sure about this?” Magda’s voice sounded, a strong sense of urgency lacing it. 

“Moira’s contacts are fairly reliable. There’s no hardcore evidence that he’s even on it though Magda, but still, this is the best we’ve had in months.” Charles' voice answered her.

“Don’t have long then if that departure time is actually correct, thirty minutes from now?” Logan this time.

“I can have the jet ready in twenty.” Hank.

Peter couldn’t take it any longer, he opened the door and sped over to the group, causing several of them to jump in surprise at his sudden appearance. 

“Where is he?” Peter asked desperately. 

“Peter–” Charles began.

“ Where? ” He interrupted. Magda walked over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Somewhere along the coast of Maine…we think, anyway. There’s a ship that’s supposed to depart soon. But, Peter, we’re not certain he’s even on it.” She explained calmly. Peter was grateful that she didn’t try to hide the information from him, though the large map laid on the desk had already told him everything he needed to know. Including the distance. Almost three hundred miles. 

“Three hundred miles…even with the jet ready in five minutes you can’t make it in time.” Peter muttered mostly to himself. He did manage to notice the looks that Magda and Charles immediately exchanged. Magda’s grip on his shoulder tightened slightly, her brows furrowing in worry.

“Peter, please don–” He slipped into super speed and time slowed to almost a complete stop. He had to act quickly, before Charles had a chance to try to even attempt to slip into his mind and stop him. He glanced at the faces of everyone in the room, Charles in the midst of opening his mouth to say something, and Magda’s worried and scared expression. 

Peter moved to give her a hug, one she wouldn’t even realize she had received. He muttered an apology before moving out of the room, passing a concerned looking David in the hallway. He had to act quickly, push himself to run faster than he ever had before. His Father was potentially on that ship that was soon to depart to who knows where, likely untraceable by anyone’s technology, be it Hank’s or the CIA. 

He tried to think up a plan as he ran down the coast line. Tried to think up a strategy of attack or rescue. But he had no idea what he was going to encounter when he got there. It didn’t matter though, he couldn’t let this chance pass by. He was the only one fast enough to get there in time, that was a fact. The rest he could figure out when he got there. 

And he finally did, in record time at that. Five minutes was his time, what had taken him five minutes to run the other week being just a fraction of this distance. He felt it too, as he finally came to a stop behind a large shipping container that stood a ways from one of the docks. He panted heavily as he leaned his forehead against the cool metal, trying desperately to catch his breath. He had definitely overdone it, but he had made it.

He peeked around the corner of the container to glance at the large ship that was still docked, thankful to see that it hadn’t departed yet. There was a flurry of activity, men in uniform littering the place, loading what seemed to be some last minute prisoners on board the ship. He squinted his eyes, trying to get a better look. A lot of them seemed to be dressed in civilian clothes, not the ones prisoners were donned with once properly processed. But he could tell they were definitely prisoners, all of them having the collar around their necks. 

This was it, if his Dad was on that ship then Peter actually had the power and ability to be able to save him this time. He wasn’t too late. They were still here, they hadn’t left. He hadn’t failed this time. Peter took a few deep breaths, preparing himself for what he was about to do. He would have to stay in super speed the entire time, and hoped he could stay in it long enough with the adrenaline rush he was feeling right now.

Right as he was about to slip into super speed he felt it, an all too familiar feeling…a sudden prick in the back of his neck. He quickly turned around, his back now leaning against the container as he reached around and pulled out the dart. The effect was immediate, his vision going blurry as he slowly collapsed to the ground, back sliding down the container wall.

“Yeah, I got another here. A kid, I’ll bring him down.” Peter heard, his hearing now severely muffled.

He had failed again. His Dad, sister…Magda. He should have listened. He should have paid more attention! Now he had ruined everything. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Were Peter’s last thoughts before he drifted off into unconsciousness. 

Chapter Text

ERIK

WEEK TWENTY-FOUR

Everyday seemed to blur into the next one, and Erik had stopped keeping track a while ago. What was the point anymore? What good did it do to count the days since he had been imprisoned in this hell? Since he had his son literally ripped from his arms. He had replayed the scene over and over in his mind, Peter’s terrified and tear filled eyes meeting his own. And he was helpless in stopping any of it from happening. 

The most important job a Father had was to protect his children, and Erik had failed at that three times with all of his kids. Now Peter was taken to God knows where. Erik had waited for the guard who had informed him of the transfer to come back, perhaps he could get information from him? But he had never seen the man again after that day. The price one pays for even attempting to inform a prisoner, he supposed.

He tried not to think of what Peter could currently be suffering through. Was it the same treatment and procedures that were performed here? He hoped wherever he was, he was alright. Of course that was just a lie he told himself, anything Shaw had a hand in was doomed to end in some sort of suffering. 

They moved Erik just a day after they had moved Peter, coming into his cell and promptly sedating him. He didn’t have a clue how long he was even unconscious for before he had woken up in a new cell. It had a different structure than the last one he had been imprisoned in with Peter, so he figured he was now in a completely different location. Made sense since they had gone through the trouble of completely knocking him out, not wanting him to even have an idea of where they could be located now.

He had hoped for a while that perhaps it was the same place that Peter had been relocated to. But after about two weeks of silence and solitude by himself in the current cell, that hope had quickly dwindled. He was alone again, and so was his son most likely…wherever he was. Erik spent his days getting the usual injections and blood extractions, the same routine as before. No new experiments though, surprisingly. And no new visits from Shaw, which he was thankful for. The man was no doubt very busy, Erik just prayed that it wasn’t anything involving Peter.

The thought of that man anywhere near his son made his skin crawl. Erik thought he couldn’t hate him more than he did after that man had shot his Mother in front of him all those years ago, but he was wrong. He had never felt a level of hate and anger before than he did the moment Shaw had permanently scarred his son in front of him, a smile on his face while doing so. The power he still had over Erik was obvious, as long as he still had Peter in his clutches. The truth was that Erik couldn’t do anything even if that weren’t the case. Still hopelessly trapped and powerless.

So for weeks he sat in his new cell, alone. They never gave him another cellmate, perhaps they were worried after he had tried to choke the former adult one to death. Whatever the reason, Erik was grateful for the solitude and silence. He didn’t think he had even spoken a word out loud since he had said his tearful goodbye to Peter.

He had told Peter that he was the strongest person he knew, and he had meant it whole-heartedly. Erik had long given up on a chance of a rescue, the movement to a new location even lessening the former hope he once had. He was so tired now. Was this how Peter had felt? It had to be close now to the same length of time Peter had been imprisoned when Erik had first joined him as a new cellmate. Five or six months now? He wasn’t sure anymore, but Erik estimated that had to be close.

Almost half a year as a prisoner, stripped of all his powers. And Peter…it was almost a year now for him, maybe a little over that. Erik didn’t know how much more the boy would be able to endure…he just hoped he did. Hoped that he would be able to see him again, to meet his daughter, to see his wife and friends. Sometimes, on the very rare nights that he didn’t have dreams that consisted of his worst memories, he would instead dream of a make believe future. One where he was together with both his children and wife, all of them at the school…everyone happy. Then he’d wake up to what had become his bleak reality.

He had grown so tired of the monotony that had become his life now. Everyday the same, it was near maddening. Then something out of the ordinary routine had happened. About two months or so after first being transferred to the new facility, it seemed that he was about to be transferred again. Things were different this time around though…more rushed, frazzled even.

Firstly, he hadn’t been injected with a suppressant drug for days now. He had first suspected that it was because they were finally preparing him for another round of experiments…but they had never taken him for any. All injections and extractions had stopped for about four days now. He wouldn’t have thought this too out of the ordinary, thinking perhaps they were just waiting a little longer this time because they had possibly been injecting him with a stronger dose of suppressants this time around and wanted to wait longer for it to wear off. 

Then they had come in and taken him out of his cell, not quite rushing but still with a sense of ordered urgency. No bag over his face though. He had never thought he was being transferred until they had loaded him into the back of a large truck, packing him in it with about a dozen or so other prisoners. He was thoroughly confused. This was also the first time in about two months he had seen any other people other than the usual guards and lab official. This was a mass transfer, he concluded rather quickly.

He tried not to feel a sense of hope that maybe this facility had been found, be it by his friends or the CIA. If it had, then they obviously had plans and protocols for that scenario, which they were obviously using now. The ride had lasted for almost six grueling and exhausting hours. Erik took this time to wonder what the hell exactly was going on.

They hadn’t injected any of the other prisoners he was currently surrounded by within the last few days either, he had found out by listening to their conversations around him. Perhaps because the timeframe for which they had to evacuate the prisoners and materials did not allow for it? Erik wasn’t sure. But it was extremely bizarre, and dangerous. If one person ended up somehow without a power limiting collar, then that could spell disaster for the people holding them captive.

They were obviously aware of that possibility though, Erik noticed when they finally arrived at their destination. The truck door opened, revealing hundreds of guards littering the surrounding area. Erik was ushered out with the rest of his group, everyone being carefully followed and watched by numerous guards. He noticed almost half a dozen or so other trucks filled with prisoners that were following the same procedure as his.

Finally it was revealed where they were all being led to, a massive ship, Military looking and equipped. Any hope Erik had before now disappeared. He still had no idea where they were, or what coast they were even on…but either way, this wasn’t a good sign. They were being transferred a very long distance, most likely overseas. There was a very good chance he would soon be on an entirely different continent before too long. 

It didn’t take long until they were all ushered to their new quarters, which consisted of one massive room somewhere below the deck of the ship. Large metal bars blocking it off from the rest of the room where the guards stood and kept vigilant watch. There had to be almost two hundred or so prisoners in the room, yet it was still large enough that it wasn’t overly crowded. There were numerous bunk beds lining the three walls, and cots on the ground for the overflow. Some prisoners seemed confused, other’s anxious, and the rest just angry. Every now and then the barred door would open to shove another prisoner in.

After Erik had thoroughly surveyed his surroundings, he finally found himself at the very back of the room. He slid down the wall, sitting down on the ground with a sigh. He could hear the ship's engine, and feel it start to finally move. They were finally on their way to their new prison…their new hell. He leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes in frustration and anger. Just when he thought things couldn’t get worse, they somehow found a way. An hour or so passed by, most of the prisoners finally settling in or just calmly walking about, conversing with each other.

Erik tried to tune them out, but the constant talking along with the frequent closing and opening of the barred doors was making it difficult to do so. He was now starting to miss the solitude of his cell. The giant cell door once again slammed shut, signaling yet another drop off of new prisoners. It had to be close to the last batch now that had been processed, it being over an hour since the ship had departed. This room couldn’t hold much more anyhow, unless they had other holding cells throughout the ship, which was also a very real possibility.

He kept his eyes closed, trying again to find some possible sleep or light rest at least. 

“Kid, move or you’re gonna end up on the bottom of someone’s shoe.” Erik’s brows furrowed, eyes opening quickly, did that man mention a child?

“Ow! You don’t have to shove! Rude much?” Erik immediately stood to his feet, eyes searching over and through the crowd for the voice he had so quickly recognized. Or perhaps he had finally lost it? Maybe he was hallucinating.

“Ouch, okay seriously? I wasn’t even in your way!” No, he wasn’t imagining it. That was definitely Peter’s voice. 

“Peter!” Erik called out desperately, looking frantically again. With almost two hundred people in the room, many crowded along the bars, it was extremely difficult to find an individual, especially one several feet shorter than everyone. 

“Dad!” His voice answered back almost immediately. Erik gave a breathless laugh at the answer…so he hadn’t imagined being called that before? He started his way toward the crowd, but didn’t have to go far before stopping. Peter burst through the crowd into the clearing towards the back of the room, where Erik hadn’t yet moved from.

Peter gave a wide smile when he spotted him.

“Dad…” He muttered before taking off on a frantic run toward Erik, who knelt down on his knees in anticipation to intercept the boy. His small body crashed into his chest, wrapping his small arms as far around Erik as he possibly could. Erik reciprocated right away, almost crushing his son in a tight embrace. 

Erik’s heart felt like it was about to burst out of his chest at any moment as he held Peter, pressing a firm kiss onto his head. His hair smelt of strawberry, like that of any children’s shampoo. He pulled away slightly, Peter reluctantly allowing it. He held Peter’s face in his hands, finally getting a proper look at him. He looked healthier than he had ever seen him, his cheeks weren’t as hollow as they were before and the bags that had constantly existed under his eyes were gone. He also noticed that he was in civilian clothing consisting of a maroon sweater, jeans and tennis shoes. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I went back, I swear I did! You weren’t there, I should have gone back sooner, I’m sorry–” Peter’s voice tapered off into a sob, tears finally falling down his face. Erik was beyond confused, not knowing where Peter had come from or how he had even ended up here. But right now his son was suffering and his only priority was consoling him. He wiped the tears that were still falling down his face.

“Shh, Peter it’s alright. Whatever happened, it’s alright now.” He said softly as he pulled the boy back into an embrace, keeping a hand on the back of his head as he continued to cry into his chest. They stayed like that for several minutes, getting quite a few strange stares from the other prisoners. Erik didn’t pay them any mind though, all of his attention focused on comforting Peter. 

Peter was the one to pull away this time, wiping his cheeks with the sleeve of his sweater. He took in a shaky breath.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here.” He said before letting out a wet laugh in disbelief. Erik gave him a small smile.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” He shot back. “Peter… how are you here?” Where had he come from? He wasn’t transferred from another facility, he had civilian clothing for gods sake. Had he escaped? 

“It’s a long story…” Peter started, wiping his face again. Erik stood back up, grabbing the boy’s hand and leading him over to one of the beds that lined the back wall. 

“We’ve got plenty of time.” Erik stated as he sat down next to him. Peter let out a sharp laugh.

“Maybe not…” He muttered mostly to himself. Erik held back a sigh in frustration. 

“Peter.” 

“Right, sorry.” Peter apologized before taking a deep breath. 

“Okay, so the day I was transferred, the van I was being transported in crashed. All three guards died, and obviously I didn’t.” He said with a fake smile. Erik tried to hold back any expression that showed how horrified he was really feeling, but thankful for whoever out there was responsible for his son surviving the ordeal.

“Um…I escaped that day, managed to get the collar off. And…and I know you said not to go back, if I ever did end up in that situation. Which, can I just say? The chances of it happening were near zero, so kudos to you insisting on a plan anyway!” Erik stared at him blankly. Peter cleared his throat.

“Anyway, my first step in my plan was obviously to disregard your number one rule and run back to get you.” Erik closed his eyes as he rubbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “But that didn’t happen either! Since I had an injection the day before…so my powers were basically non-existent for a few days at least.” Peter…reassured him? 

“So you escaped, and went where?” Erik asked.

“I walked until I found a small town, hid out in the attic of an outdoors shop for a few days before my powers had returned to at least a minimal level… then I went back to the facility where you were being held!” Erik was never so thankful for that facility being empty when Peter had arrived back to it. 

“Obviously you weren’t there…no one was.” Peter said in a forlorn tone, looking down at his hands. “I was too late.” He whispered.

“Peter…I said go straight to the school for a reason.” He didn’t want to chastise the boy, but what if they hadn’t evacuated the facility? Or what if they had set a trap for him? They wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, that’s for sure. Peter held back more tears.

“I know! I know you did, and I know why you did. But…but I couldn’t just leave without at least trying.” He muttered miserably. Erik sighed as he pulled the boy into a side hug. 

“I appreciate that…but I won’t lie, I’m glad they moved us when they did. If there was even a chance of them capturing you again…” He didn’t want to think about it. Peter gave a sigh of his own before continuing with his story.

“After failing to valiantly rescue you, I followed your original plan and headed to the school…or mansion, it’s not much of a school right now. Anyway, I was able to make it there in four days.” Peter smiled before continuing. 

“And you were right.”

“Right about what?” He asked, confused. 

“Everything. Magda really is the nicest person alive.” Erik let out a laugh, holding back a few tears. His son had made it…he had met his wife, his friends. He could barely believe what he was hearing. Peter took in a sharp breath, seemingly holding back tears of his own.

“I told them…or, showed them everything. Charles anyway, then he showed Magda. I was too…I was afraid how she would react.” Peter wiped away a tear that had managed to fall. “But she accepted me with open arms…literally. She gives really good hugs” He whispered with a smile. Erik couldn’t stop the one that overtook his face. This was all he had wished for.

“So, the next month and a half has been spent there. Everyone’s been looking for you…and Wanda.” Erik’s heart froze. Had they found her? Was she….?

“Cerebro was destroyed.” Peter said. Erik frowned, destroyed?

“It was compromised, blown up by some undercover guys disguised as construction workers.” Peter rolled his eyes. “Sounds like a bad movie…but, any hope of finding where Wanda is was basically destroyed with it.” Erik ran a frustrated hand through his hair, his daughter was still missing then. 

“But, it’s supposed to be finished in a couple of weeks!” Peter quickly reassured him, trying to calm his frustration. Erik nodded to himself…right. A couple of weeks. And where would he and Peter be by then? He tried to calm the panic that threatened to bubble within him, his goals within the last hour had drastically changed. 

“This ship is likely heading across the Atlantic ocean.” Erik mumbled mostly to himself. “And we’ve already been moving for a few hours now…” He had no plan, he quickly realized. What could he do even if he could break out of this cell right now? Swim him and his son miles back to shore? And what fresh hell awaited both of them at their next destination?

“ Dad!” Erik took in a sharp breath as Peter’s voice interrupted his thoughts, his breath catching at being called ‘Dad’ yet again. He’d have to get used to that, he thought absently to himself.

“Are you listening? You were zoning out.” Peter complained. Erik let out a sigh before replying.

“It’s good that cerebro will be fixed within a couple of weeks, Peter. But I’m more worried about our current situation, being that we’re headed towards a different continent with no way of escape or rescue.” He told the boy truthfully. Peter pursed his lips.

“I mean…I didn’t finish telling you how I got here.” Erik guessed it was a rash and not well thought out decision. He nodded at the boy to continue his explanation.

“So they got word from a contact about this ship, and I overheard Charles, Magda, Raven, Logan and Hank talking. I ran in and saw the location marked on the map…” Erik was correct in his guess.

“So you took it upon yourself to run here, alone?” He asked, referring to the ship they were currently in. Peter nodded sheepishly. 

“I had to! It would have taken too long to get the jet ready, and even if it was they still wouldn’t have gotten there in time!” He quickly continued to defend his actions. Erik let out a breath, raking his hand once again through his hair in frustration. Peter eyed him.

“You’re mad.” He stated simply. Erik shook his head before turning his gaze toward Peter.

“I’m scared.” He answered back. Peter furrowed his brow in confusion. “I’m scared that you’re once again a prisoner, Peter. That I could lose you all over again.” And he was terrified, at least Peter was safe with his family and friends before…even if Erik wasn’t aware of it at the time. Peter slipped his hand into Erik’s larger one, giving it a squeeze. 

“We aren’t completely doomed yet.” He said to Erik with a small reassuring smile. Now it was Erik’s turn to look at him in confusion.

“And why not?” He asked. Perhaps Peter was just happy that he was with his Father. But Erik knew the reality of the situation they were once again in. 

“Because of Hank and Charles and their paranoid asses.” Peter said with a secretive smile. 

“Language,” Erik chided absently, Peter rolling his eyes in response. “-and explain.” He continued. 

“Both my shoes have trackers in them.” Peter said in an almost whisper. Erik froze, taking in this new and important information. 

“What’s the range of them?” Erik tried not to let himself hope too much. 

“I don’t know the details…but if Hank designed them, I’m pretty sure they’re fairly accurate. Him and Charles wanted us all to have one on us to avoid this exact scenario.” Peter said, looking a little bit guilty now. Erik nodded to himself.

“I hope they are…” He trailed off. “You should have waited with them Peter, you shouldn’t have come by yourself.” Erik said. Peter looked up sharply at him, shock and a little bit of anger showing on his face.

“I did it to save you! I knew what I was doing-”

“You got captured.” Erik couldn’t help himself to interrupt the boy, his fear and anger taking over. Peter let out a breathless and humorless laugh in disbelievement.

“I did what was the best decision statistically at that moment.” He said with unwavering confidence. Erik closed his eyes briefly in exasperation.

“Not every decision should be based on statistics, Peter. You need to take your own wellbeing into consideration once in a while.” This boy could not base every decision in his life on math and probability, Erik needed him to understand that putting his care and well-being first was sometimes the correct decision. Peter wasn’t having it though. 

“You have no idea what everyone has been going through looking for you, what I’ve had to go through, just waiting! Waiting for even a sign that you were still out there somewhere. The decision I made was the right one at the time.” Peter continued to argue his point.

“Peter, I’m sure it was hard–”

“You weren’t there! ” Peter interrupted loudly, drawing some looks from fellow prisoners around them. Erik paid them no mind as he focused once again on his son, Peter kept talking before Erik had a chance to reply.

“You weren't there, and you were supposed to be! You were supposed to leave with me, a-and we were both meant to leave together. N-not just me.” He stuttered. “And, and it should have been you instead! But it wasn’t, and so I was left to explain, and…and I just-” He paused, breaths becoming quicker in succession. “I just wanted y-you back–” He broke off in a soft sob. 

Erik immediately knelt down in front of Peter, cupping one hand against the side of his neck and the other along his cheek, wiping away a rapidly falling tear. 

“Shh, Peter. Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” Erik said in a soft soothing voice, trying to calm his quickly spiraling son. He pulled him into an embrace, Peter quickly returned it as he burrowed his face against Erik’s neck. 

“I’m sorry I disappointed you.” His muffled voice sounded against his neck. Erik pushed him away slightly, making eye contact with him.

“You could never disappoint me, Peter.” He stated firmly, needing him to believe his words. Peter looked at him in doubt.

“I’m just scared…” He once again stated. “Your life and wellbeing is what concerns me more than anything. And it scares me when you put yourself in jeopardy, especially because of me.” It was a Father’s role to protect, and Erik had felt like he was completely failing at that role at every turn. Especially when his son took it upon himself to try and play hero time and time again. 

“I’m sorry I scared you…” He started, drying his eyes. “But I would also do it again.” Peter finished in a now steadier voice. Erik couldn’t stop the smile that overtook his face, shaking his head slightly.

“I’m afraid this reckless streak may be genetic afterall.” This child would be giving him gray hairs in no time. Peter gave a light hearted shrug.

“Wait till you meet Wanda.” He said with a sad smile. Erik gave a sigh as he moved to sit on the bed next to Peter, leaning against the wall. Peter immediately situated himself under Erik’s arm and leaned against him.

“I look forward to the day I get too.” Erik replied, pulled Peter close to him. Peter closed his eyes and leaned his head against Erik’s chest.

“I missed you.” He whispered into Erik’s shirt. 

“I missed you too.” Erik said back into Peter’s hair before leaning his cheek against the boy's head. 

Peter let out a yawn. “I forgot how energy sucking those injections are.” Erik furrowed his brow in confusion.

“They injected you with a suppressor?” That was strange, none of the other prisoners who Erik had traveled with had gotten any in days. Peter nodded sluggishly against Erik’s chest.

“Try to get some sleep, Peter.” He whispered to the boy, who seemed to be halfway there already. Erik took this time to ponder why the newer prisoners had received doses of the suppressant straight away and not the older ones. Perhaps they had just gotten more supply in, and that was the easiest way to start to distribute it. He saw this as the most likely reason, which meant that the rest of the prisoners, including himself, would probably be receiving the drug in the next few days once again. 

The situation was once more looking bleak than ever. Except for the trackers which Peter still possessed on him. He didn’t know how much longer he would before they made him change into the prisoner uniforms, but even then the shoes would still stay on the ship until they arrived at their destination. He only hoped that they worked, that the distance wasn’t too great. He tried not to get too hopeful though…hope could be dangerous. 

Erik himself tried to get some rest, deciding to stay sitting upright against the wall though, not wanting to let his guard down. He tightened his grip slightly on his now sleeping son, once again reminding himself that yes, this was real…he was real, and in his arms now. And Erik would do anything to make sure he was safe.

A few hours passed before breakfast began to be served, the new sounds of movement from the large group of prisoners rising Peter and Erik from their slumber. Erik ordered Peter to stay put as he went to get them a couple of trays. The boy’s expression as he ate easily gave away his thoughts on the meal.

“Well, I definitely didn’t miss the food.” He frowned as he continued to eat every last bit of the mush that seemed to possibly be oatmeal. Erik gave a small smile as he finished his own portion. 

“I’d be concerned if you did. You seem healthy.” He commented. And he meant it, he had never seen the boy look as healthy as he did now. Peter gave a bright smile.

“Having three meals a day and a ton of snacks in between helped! Magda makes me special shakes too, says I need a lot of extra calories to keep up with my metabolism. I’m faster than ever now!” He said with enthusiasm, his smile then dropping slightly. “Even though you’ve never seen my power…” Erik reached over and squeezed the boy's hand lightly. 

“I haven’t yet. But I will, Peter. And I have no doubt it's as amazing as you make it sound.” Peter gave him a shy smile back along with a nod. 

The rest of the day passed by with no incidents. No injections for anyone, no new prisoners, and no sign of a rescue. Erik didn’t let his nervousness show, but Peter wasn’t faring as well. Erik could see the worry and guilt grace the boy’s expressions, so he spent the day asking him about his time spent at the mansion. Who all he had met and what he had done in the past almost two months. It helped, keeping Peter occupied and talking. It also helped calm Erik’s nerves, it made him thankful that his son had finally met his family and friends, that he was cared for and so obviously loved by them. Especially Magda, it seemed.

“She said you guys need to have another wedding, with me and Wanda there this time.” Peter commented as they began to eat their meager meal that was to be dinner that night. Erik let out a sharp laugh.

“I think that’s a great idea, perhaps it won’t rain next time.” Peter let out a laugh of his own before going quiet again, letting out a light sigh. 

“She’s gonna hate me…” Erik looked at his forlorn expression before replying.

“She doesn’t hate you, Peter. I know you know that.” Magda was the most forgiving person Erik knew, next to Charles that is. Peter let out a defeated breath.

“Okay, maybe not. But I know I hurt her…” Peter looked down at his hands. “She’s gonna ground me for life.” Erik held in his laugh, not wanting to upset his already guilt ridden son. 

“I’ll save her the trouble and dish out that punishment myself then.” He commented, nudging Peter’s shoulder with his. The boy’s smile finally returned again.

“Is that your first Fatherly duty, grounding your kid?” He commented as Erik’s heart gave another lurch at being acknowledged as a parent once again. 

“Fatherly duty.” He muttered back to himself. Peter looked up at him with sudden concern gracing his features.

“You…you don’t mind, do you?” Erik’s brows furrowed at the question.

“Mind what?” He asked.

“Me calling you dad…” Peter trailed off, suddenly looking uncertain. “I…I kind of just called you it without asking if it was okay…and-” He paused. “And if you aren’t okay with–”

“Peter.” Erik interrupted him, gently grabbing the boy’s chin and turning his gaze upward to meet his own. “I am honored to be called your Father. I don’t mind at all.” He said firmly. Peter gave a relieved smile.

“Okay.” He nodded to himself. “Okay, good. Because I’ve been calling you that around everyone else and it would be really weird and awkward if I stopped now.” Erik gave a laugh and opened his mouth to reply before he was cut off by almost being thrown off the bed.

The ship lurched to the side sharply with so much force that whoever had been previously standing was thrown onto the ground. Erik caught Peter by his shoulders before the boy could topple off the side of the bed. The response in the room was immediate, people shouting and starting to panic, running to the gates and yelling at the guards. 

The metal in the ship creaked before violently shifting to the side again, with almost as much force as the first one. Peter gripped Erik’s arm tightly before glancing over to the far side of the room. 

“Dad!” He said as he pointed over to the quickly growing commotion near the front entrance. There was a large portion of the gate missing, Erik couldn’t see how exactly it had happened but it hadn’t taken long for the rest of the prisoners to notice and quickly take advantage of the new situation. They stormed the small area, shoving their way through the hole and quickly teaming up to overpower the few guards that were currently occupying the area. They all quickly began to use the pins on the guards belts to unlock their power limiters as they all then continued to exit the area.

Erik grabbed Peter’s hand, pulling him up to a standing position. 

“Is this a rescue?” Peter asked in an almost shout, trying to be heard over all the yelling and commotion. Erik shook his head. 

“I don’t know.” He answered back. What he did know was that they had an opportunity to get these power limiters off and get the hell out of this cell. He gripped Peter’s hand tightly as he began to move into the very disorganized line that was starting to form. There were several unconscious or very well dead guards outside the gates now, and everyone was using their pins to unlock the collars that donned their necks. The pins only working when in contact with that particular guard's skin. 

“Ugh, I can’t believe I’m having to do this again.” Peter muttered mostly to himself, Erik overhearing his comment. His heart broke for the boy when he had told Erik exactly how he had escaped his restraints after the transport van had crashed. When they finally approached a fallen guard, Erik made sure to be the one this time to unlock Peter’s collar, then his own. 

His collar finally fell to the ground, joining the other hundreds of limiters that had already been released. The feeling of his power returning was almost instantaneous, though not nearly at full power. He hadn’t had an injection in a few days, and neither had a majority of the prisoners that Erik had been transported with. Which meant there was about to be a lot of shit going down. Peter pulled at his hand and Erik glanced down at him.

“Is your power back?” He asked. 

“Barely. It’s there, but it’s nowhere near full strength.” Erik said, a little frustrated. Not nearly as frustrated as Peter though.

“Mine isn’t back at all.” He said angrily, looking at his hands with a frown. It made sense, Peter having gotten an injection just a day ago. His would take a few days now to come back. 

“We need to move, get up on deck at least and see what’s happening.” Erik said as he began to pull Peter by the hand. They made it up the stairs to the next level, and it was even more chaotic. People running in both directions, dead guards littering the halls and numerous rooms they passed. The ship then gave another violent shift, slamming everyone into one side of the wall. Erik grabbed Peter once again, cushioning his impact with his own body.

He quickly steadied himself and once again moved with Peter beside him. They needed to make it outside, especially if there was a chance of the ship going under. Up another set of stairs they went before finally opening a door that led to the outside. And of course it was pouring rain in the middle of the night now. Peter looked around panicked before pulling on Erik’s hand to get his attention.

“I guess this is a good time to mention that I still don’t know how to swim.” He said in a shaky voice. Erik cursed silently, looking around at the complete chaos that surrounded them before replying.

“Do not let go of me, Peter.” He commanded as Peter gripped his arm with both his hands this time.

“Okay.” Was all he replied, trying to seem more confident than he was obviously feeling at the moment. Erik scanned the deck, trying to see what the reason was for all the violent shifting from before. He didn’t know how it happened, but he quickly saw the cause for all the panic. The ship was sinking, that much was evident. The bow of the ship was halfway under water and the right side listing heavily. He didn’t see any lifeboats, or any other form of rescue. Pitch black waters and rain was the only thing that was visible all around the lone sinking ship. 

He tried not to panic, but was having a hard time trying to find a way out of the situation that would ensure his and Peter’s survival. He didn’t have time to dwell on the fact as the ship tilted violently and unexpectedly to the side, as if it was just struck by something from under water. The shift was far more severe than before, pushing the ship almost completely on its side and sending almost all the occupants on the deck completely into the freezing ocean. Including Erik and Peter. 

Peter held on tightly to Erik’s arm as they both slid down the deck as the ship tilted dangerously on its side. Erik grappled frantically, trying to get a hold of the boy with his other hand before they made it into the ocean. He was inches away when Peter’s hood on his sweater caught on the end of a rail, his slippery and wet grip from the rain slipping off Erik’s arm as he stayed caught on the rail and Erik’s descent into the ocean continued. Peter's scream was the last thing Erik heard before he was submerged in the freezing cold ocean.

All his senses disappeared for a split second, and he thought perhaps he had died. He quickly came to as he opened his eyes and frantically kicked his way to the surface. He broke through, taking in deep gulps of air and he immediately scanned the area around him. More specifically, the area where Peter had just been…that area was now under water. The rail he had been caught on was now completely submerged in the water, along with the entire right side of the ship. 

“Peter!” Erik called out, desperate to maybe hear his son answer back. He didn’t know how many times he called out his son’s name as he swam desperately over to the still sinking side of the ship. His heart froze in terror as he still searched the area, not finding any evidence of his son. No…no, he hadn’t come all this way. Peter hadn’t come all this way for it all to end like this. Erik couldn’t accept that.

He forced himself to find calm as he closed his eyes and concentrated. He could remember the feel of the metal the instant his powers came back, the feeling of the metal that graced his son. The zipper on his sweater. 

‘Focus on that, focus on that.’ Erik chanted silently to himself as he reached his still weak powers out as far as they could go. It had been so long since he had used them, but they were a part of him. An extension of himself. He blocked out all the sound around him. The screeching of the ship's metal, the screaming of people around him. He concentrated on that one piece of metal he was searching for. One tiny piece, that’s all he was feeling for. Until finally….

“There.” He muttered to himself and then pulled.

His power’s weren’t as strong, but they were still there. He held out his hand and felt the metal get closer. Felt the weight that it pulled along with it…his son. His son who didn’t know how to swim. He grit his teeth together and willed the metal to move faster before he finally felt it in his hands, along with the fabric of the sweater. He gripped it and pulled it up toward him, finally grabbing Peter’s body as he pulled his head out of the water.

To his utter relief he was immediately met with the sound of coughing, the noise bringing instant tears to his eyes. Peter took in several desperate gulps of air.

"Dad." Peter gasped as he wrapped his arms around Erik’s neck in a frantic embrace. Erik hugged him back just as frantically, making sure to keep them above water. He didn’t have time to bask in his relief, but he felt it overwhelm him anyway. His son, alive and breathing in his arms. But for how long now?

The scene around them was…chaotic. There really wasn’t another word for it. The ship was all but sunken now, just a small part of the side of it was still visible over the water. Everyone still alive, which seemed to be a couple hundred or so, were all frantically looking for objects to stay a float on. That was Erik’s next task as well. He swam him and Peter further away from the group that was now trying to swarm the still floating section of the ship.

Erik moved away until there wasn’t anyone else around for about a hundred feet or so. He spotted a piece of wood, perhaps having been a part of a door at some point. He sensed metal on it, of what he guessed had been the hinges. He pulled it toward him so he didn’t have to swim the rest of the way to it. Finally it reached close enough to him that he could grasp it.

“Grab on to this, Peter.” Erik said as he grabbed on fully now with one of his hands, lessening the strain of having to keep him and his son afloat. Peter didn’t show that he heard, still holding on tightly to Erik, his face burrowed in his neck. Erik tightened his own hold on the boy, hugging him closer with his arm that wasn’t gripping the door. The boy had just cheated death…again. His body was shaking, either from shock or the cold temperature of the water. Possibly both. 

“Peter…” Erik said again. 

“I’m sorry.” The boy said in a choked voice, finally pulling his face out from Erik’s neck. “I screwed up. I should have w-waited, like you said.” Erik let out a sigh before shaking his head.

“This isn’t your fault, Peter.” Of course it wasn’t. Erik had no idea what had caused the ship to sink, but in no way was it his son’s fault. 

Peter turned himself around in Erik’s arms, grabbing onto the floating door with shaky hands. Erk grabbed on with both of his, Peter staying locked in between his arms. It was completely dark now, the lights from the ship having gone out a while ago. The rain and clouds had moved out, the only light visible being that of the moon. They had drifted even further now, for which Erik was thankful for at the moment. He didn’t have to worry about someone else overtaking their makeshift raft. 

“T-this is a really crappy way to d-die.” Peter stuttered out, laughing bitterly. Erik wished he had a way for the boy to warm up, the piece of door they were using to stay a float wasn’t even large enough for his small body to fit on. 

“We’re not dying tonight.” Erik stated firmly, grabbing one of Peter’s cold hands and giving it a squeeze as he glanced around his surroundings once again. If he could find which way was West, then he could perhaps start to move them towards land. Though they were probably hundreds of miles away by now…but what other choice did he have? It was either try or die out here.

“D-dad.” Peter’s voice pulled him away from his thoughts. “Hear that?” 

Erik stilled and listened, finally hearing what Peter had. It sounded like a small motor. He turned his head to the right, where the sound was starting to get closer and louder. He willed himself to stay still and silent. If this was them coming to collect the remaining prisoners, then he wasn’t sure what his next plan of action was going to be. He could attempt to use his still very weak powers and try to overtake them, but he’d be putting Peter’s life at risk in doing so. But still, his son’s life was currently hanging in the balance the longer they stayed stagnant in the freezing cold ocean. 

A voice sounded quietly over the now calming ocean.

“-sure this is accurate? I can’t see shit, man.” Erik quelled the suddenly growing hope that blossomed throughout him at the seemingly familiar voice. He needed to wait, just to make sure. Peter was not thinking the same.

“Over here!” He called out, waving his hand in the air. Erik cursed and grabbed the boy's hand, setting it back down on the makeshift raft. 

“Peter!” He chided the boy, who was yelling out again. 

“That’s Alex!” Peter said with all the confidence in the world. With that confirmation, Erik was suddenly more certain that he was right. The small boat drifted closer to them until it was only a few feet away, though Erik was still not able to see over the side of it, but he didn’t need to. A second later Alex’s familiar face peeked over the side, a disbelieving smile overtaking his face. 

“Holy shit! It’s them, both of them!” He stated to the other occupant, who he guessed was the one driving the boat. 

“I-I knew they w-would come!” Peter exclaimed, teeth still chattering from the cold. Erik immediately jumped into gear, grabbing Peter by the waist and lifting him up toward Alex without a word. Alex quickly grabbed Peter, both of them disappearing over the edge momentarily. He heard their muffled voices before Alex’s face once again appeared, holding out his hand for Erik to now grab onto. He hefted Erik up and over the side into the boat, finally out of freezing water. Erik was suddenly pulled into a hug by the laughing young man.

“Can’t believe we finally found you man!” He said as he pulled back, a smile still on his face. 

“It’s good to see you, Alex.” Erik replied with a small smile of his own. He quickly scanned the rest of the small boat for his son, who was currently being wrapped in a blanket by a frantic looking Hank. 

“Jesus, Peter. Your lips are blue, kid.” Hank muttered to himself as he sat the boy down before turning toward Erik. 

“You have no idea what the hell we’ve all gone through looking for you.” Hank said with a slight shake of his head, but a small smile still present. Erik gave a forced smile before shaking his hand firmly. 

“I’ve been told.” He stated, grabbing a blanket that Hank handed to him. 

“W-what about the others?” Peter’s voice called out, nodding toward the still surviving prisoners. Erik sat down next to the boy, wrapping an arm around him, trying to provide any extra warmth that he could. Hank turned the boat around in the opposite direction of the still sinking ship as Alex sat down across from the two, answering their question.

“It’s getting taken care of, kid. Don’t worry.” Erik glanced back at the wreckage as they traveled further away from it, now noticing some lights far off in the distance. They must have another ship nearby to deploy help. He wondered where Hank was taking them now, the other ship being in the opposite direction than they were currently headed in. Alex must have noticed his observation because he answered his unspoken question next.

“Two ships were deployed when we got a location on Peter, the larger one is picking up the rest of the passengers. We’re headed to the command ship.” He explained. Peter leaned tiredly against Erik’s side. 

“Why’re you here? Y-you weren’t at the mansion when I left.” Peter asked, still shivering slightly. Erik frowned, worried that the boy still wasn’t warming up quick enough. 

“I was already in the state, following the same lead actually. You beat me there by thirty minutes or so you brat.” He said lightheartedly, getting a soft laugh from Peter. 

“I beat everyone.” He replied cheekily, pulling his blanket tighter around himself. 

“It could have ended a lot differently, Peter.” Hank chimed in as he continued to stare forward steering the boat, a slight frown on his face. Peter slumped down in his seat.

“Give the kid a break, Hank. It turned out okay in the end.” Alex defended the boy, throwing a wink his way and gaining a small smile from Peter. Erik didn’t want to admit that he agreed with Hank. It could have ended very differently indeed. One thing still confused him though.

“What caused the ship to sink?” Erik asked. Now it was Alex who looked sheepish.

“Yeah, well…you see. It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.” He said, running a hand through his hair. Hank let out a snort.

“No shit.” He said before continuing. “Alex was supposed to take out the ship’s communications tower. Instead he missed by forty feet or so and took out part of the hull instead.” 

“I tripped! ” Alex quickly defended himself. “You try aiming with just your chest on a small moving boat in the middle of a storm.” 

“It’s okay, Alex.” Peter reassured him. “I mean, I almost d-drowned because of it, but I didn’t! So it worked out.” Erik held back an exhausted sigh as Alex stared on in horror and guilt. 

“Oh great! There’s the ship!” Hank thankfully interjected before Alex could go on what would have most likely been a long and rant filled apology. 

Erik glanced forward at the fairly large military ship that they were quickly getting closer to. They finally approached the platform on the stern of the ship, a ladder led up to the deck. He quickly ushered Peter first, lifting him up to Alex once again who had already climbed his way up. He then turned back to Hank, who was finishing up shutting down the controls. 

“Thank you, Hank. If he didn’t have those trackers on him…” Erik didn’t want to think where they'd be right now. Probably still on their way across the ocean. 

“Thank Charles, it was his idea.” Hank clapped Erik on his shoulder.

“I’ll take part of the credit though, seeing as it was my tech.” He continued with a smile. “Come on now, you have a lot of catching up to do.” Erik gave a nod.

“That I do.” He answered as he began to climb up the ladder and onto the deck. He was helped over by a couple of crew men in uniform, but his attention was quickly pulled elsewhere.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He heard Peter’s voice chant out. Erik looked forward and felt his body freeze in shock for a moment. Peter was being held in a tight and almost desperate embrace by Magda, who was knelt on the ground, face hidden in Peter’s hair. Erik didn’t dare move, taking in the scene he had so many times imagined. His wife and son together…if only Wanda were here, then he’d finally feel complete and at peace. But he took in the scene with gratitude, content that at least he had this for now. 

Magda’s attention was solely on Peter at the moment as she continued to hold him, murmuring something in his ear that Erik couldn’t make out. Peter nodded before pulling away.

“I know…me too. I found him though.” He said through tears before turning to look at Erik with a smile. Magda turned and followed the boy’s gaze before her own eyes landed on Erik’s form. Her expression was one of intense relief as she smiled before standing up, her hand resting on Peter’s shoulder. Erik didn’t realize that he had been slowly walking toward them until he was nearly a foot away, Magda closing the distance quickly as she wrapped her arms around him in another tight embrace.

Erik immediately returned the it, closing his eyes as he took in the familiar smell of her hair. He had missed her, desperately he realized. He hadn’t truly felt how much until this moment. Magda finally pulled away, placing her hands on the sides of his face.

“Even after all this time of knowing you, you’re still full of surprises.” She said with a tear filled smile. Erik smiled.

“Two of them, to be exact.” She let out a laugh before planting a firm kiss on his lips. The moment was interrupted by a sudden thud to their right. They both turned their heads toward the sound, finding Peter unconscious on the ground.

“Peter!” Magda exclaimed before she quickly left his embrace to kneel next to the passed out child, Erik quickly following suit. 

“Shit, is he okay?” Alex’s panicked voice sounded from behind Erik, who fought back a biting response, because obviously he wasn’t.

“Magda.” Erik said as he watched his wife assess Peter’s vitals with her hands before her eyes shifted to gray, her power then taking over. Her brows furrowed in concern before she finally answered. 

“I think he’s hypothermic. Damnit, I should have noticed straight away. His body temperature already runs lower than average.” She murmured the last part to herself, frustration and guilt apparent on her features. Erik shook his head.

“I should have noticed on the boat when he had stopped shivering.” He admitted his own guilt, now frustrated at himself as well. The boy was stammering and lethargic the entire ride, he should have realized sooner. 

“No point in guilt tripping ourselves. Let’s move him to the medbay.” Magda stood up, doctor mode in full force. Erik went to pick up Peter, keeping the blanket on him as he followed Magda toward the onboard clinic. Peter’s forehead rested against Erik’s neck, still freezing cold. Erik cursed himself silently at his failure of once again being unable to prevent his son from suffering in some way or another. 

They entered an exam room, Erik laying Peter gently down on the bed as Magda began to take his temperature and piling a couple more blankets on top of him. She looked at the thermometer, letting out a light sigh in relief. 

“Ninety-five. Not too horrible.” She laid yet another blanket on top of him. “I think exhaustion had a large part in it too, I’m going to start an IV on him.” 

“His lungs…they were clear?” Erik asked as she began to remove Peter’s sweater to gain access to his arm. Erik noticed for the first time since seeing Peter again the bandage that still covered the scar…the brand that Shaw had forever left on him. He clenched his fist at the memory.

“Yes, I didn’t see anything of concern.” She replied as she hung up the IV bag. Erik nodded as he gently grabbed Peter’s hand, placing a kiss on the back of it. He was grateful that at least the near drowning incident hadn’t left any permanent damage. Magda took his temperature again, smiling approvingly at the results. 

“Ninety-six…he’ll be fine.” Erik let out a sigh of relief as he finally sat down in the chair next to Peter’s bed, suddenly feeling the exhaustion take over his own body. 

Magda smiled gently as she brushed back some of Peter’s hair away from his forehead. 

“He’s extraordinary, Erik.” She said in a soft voice as she continued to comb her fingers through the sleeping boy’s hair. Erik let a small smile spread across his face, rubbing his thumb along the top of Peter’s hand that he still held in his own.

“He is, isn’t he?” He replied in wonder, once again in disbelief that he had a part in bringing this child to life. 

“I know Wanda is too.” Magda added, looking across at Erik. He let out a shaky exhale.

“We have to find her, Magda.” He couldn’t sit idly by now that he was free of his imprisonment. His main priority now was to find his missing daughter. He couldn’t fully feel peace until she too was with him. 

“We will.” She reassured him firmly, reaching across Peter’s sleeping form to grab a hold of Erik’s hand. 

“Now that my first patient is currently taken care of, you need to go change out of those wet and cold clothes. It’s a wonder you didn’t end up hypothermic either.” She said as she let go of his hand, walking over to a small closet at the side of the room. She handed him a bag out of it.

“Here, should be something in there that fit's you.” He stood up with the bag held in his hands, not even bothering to put up an argument on the matter. Erik made his way to the bathroom a few doors down the hall, and finally had a look at himself in the mirror. He looked like hell, as was expected after the events of the last few hours. He ran a hand across his face and short beard that he now donned, before rinsing his face with some water.

He changed quickly into some suitable clothes he had found in the variety of choices provided to him, happy to finally be free of the prison uniform he had been wearing for the past six months or so. Not wanting to spend any more time away from his wife and son he made his way back out into the hallway. 

A smile graced his features as he came face to face with his oldest and dearest friend. 

“Erik, I can’t begin to explain how good it is to see you again my dear friend.” Charles stated with a smile of his own. Erik leaned down and hugged him close, Charles returning it just as strongly.

“It’s good to see you, Charles. I had thought for a while that I maybe wouldn’t again.” Erik said as he stood back up, setting his hand on Charles’ shoulder. 

“It seems that fate had a different idea.” Erik couldn’t help but chuckle at the statement and shook his head slightly.

“Fate…I would have called you naive before. I always did think Magda’s belief in it was…but now…” He smiled thoughtfully. “Well, I just don’t have another explanation for it.” And he didn’t. How else could he explain everything that had happened? Meeting his son that he had never known existed in a random prison cell. It was simply unbelievable, except it had actually happened.

“And I thought one of us becoming a Father out of nowhere was unbelievable enough. You just had to go and one up me, old friend.” Charles’ chided light heartedly. 

“I’m still having a hard time believing it myself.” Erik confessed as he leaned against the wall. “And the other one I haven't even met yet.” He continued frustratingly. Charles’ met his friend's gaze with a sympathetic look.

“We’ll find her, Erik. Cerebro will be completed soon.” He reassured him. Erik nodded, trying to reassure himself now. He hated waiting though…that’s all he had been doing for months now, and it nearly drove him insane. It probably would have if he hadn’t had Peter there as an anchor. 

“In the meantime, your son is awake.” Charles mentioned. Erik pushed off the wall to make his way back to the room. “Erik,” Charles called out “Peter…he really is quite amazing.” He added with a smile. Erik returned it.

“I agree wholeheartedly.” He said with confidence and pride. Charles let out a laugh.

“Yes, I assumed you would.” He turned his wheelchair in the opposite direction before calling out behind him. “It’ll be a while still before we get to shore, I’d take that time to rest.” 

“ We have a lot to discuss, later on.” Erik called out in his mind. Charles' light laughter could be heard further down the hall.

“ We do. For now rest, for god's sake Erik you need it. ” And Erik couldn’t argue that point.

He made his way back to the exam room, opening the door and once again feeling peace and relief fill him at the sight in front of him. Magda and Peter, smiling and conversing with each other as Magda prompted Peter to drink some more water. The boy’s eyes lit up when they found Erik’s, then his smile turned into a frown.

“I really didn’t mean to ruin your reunion.” He said, looking guilty. Erik smiled as he walked toward the bed, placing a kiss on the boy’s head before sitting next to him on the bed and placing a reassuring arm over his shoulder, pulling him close to his side. Peter immediately leaned into him.

“You didn’t ruin anything, Peter.” Erik reassured him. Magda sat down in the chair next to the bed, giving Peter’s hand a squeeze.

“You really didn’t. Besides, it wouldn’t have been a proper reunion between me and Erik if it didn’t have a splash of drama thrown in.” Peter narrowed his eyes at her in confusion.

“I feel like there’s a story there.” He said and Magda let out a laugh.

“Oh, several for sure. You know, he asked me to marry him while he was bleeding out.” Magda said with all the casualty in the world. Erik rolled his eyes while Peter’s widened in surprise.

“What?!” He squeaked out. 

“It was a small stab wound.” Erik said. 

“That you thought you were going to die from.” Magda replied.

“I did not think I was going to die.” He fired back. Erik really didn’t, but he just thought that if there ever was a time to ask her, it should be then…just in case. 

“Okay…” Peter started slowly. “I think this family as a whole should just sit on the sidelines for a while from all tragedy and drama. Just throwing that out there.” Erik’s heart constricted at the mention of them being called a family.

“I agree, that’s a fantastic idea, Peter.” Maga said cheerfully. 

“I’m just full of great ideas.” Peter said with a cheeky smile. Magda didn’t lose her’s when she replied.

“Yes, and your latest one has grounded you indefinitely.” Peter’s smile quickly dropped.

“Ah, actually. I was going to give him that punishment, dear.” Erik added with a small smile of his own. 

“Oh! That’s perfect actually, I grounded him the first time already.” Magda said with a wave of her hand. 

“Already?” Erik asked in confusion. Peter had only been there for not even two months. Said boy let out a miserable groan as he sank lower in the bed, covering his head with the covers.

“Yes, for his little escapades during the ice cream incident.” Erik listened as Magda explained in detail what happened. He held back another smile as he listened intently. Peter let out an exasperated huff as he shoved his head out from under the covers, interrupting her story telling. 

“Are you guys hungry, because I’m starving !” He derailed the conversation and Magda stopped, her smile not falling.

“Yes, yes. You probably are. I’ll go get you two something to eat.” She quickly gave in as she placed a kiss on Peter’s temple and one on Erik’s lips. Erik had no doubt that Peter hadn’t been lying about being hungry, they hadn’t eaten in hours and had expended a vast amount of energy during that time. The first signs of sunlight were starting to drift through the small window in the room. 

Peter let out a content sigh as he leaned his head against Erik’s side once again. Erik’s hand drifted back to his head, running his hands through the still baby soft strands. They sat like that in silence for a few minutes before Peter’s soft and tired voice spoke.

“I’m really happy we’re here…” He trailed off sleepily. Erik knew he’d have to wake up soon to eat, but he didn’t have the heart to keep him awake at the moment.

“Me too, Peter.” He replied softly, resting his cheek on the boy’s head.