Archive of Our Own ^beta

There were only so many ways to describe the feeling that washed over Erik as he walked into the building where he knew Shaw was hiding out. 

There was no question in his mind about how this was going to go down, but still, there was no other option. He had to get his son back and this was the only way he knew how to do it. 

He was a lamb going to slaughter, being brought there by such a simple but effective lure. There was hardly anyone in his life who was more important to him than his son. If he had to make a list, Pietro and Charles would be tied for first place and then he’d go from there. 

But now Shaw had targeted his boy, kidnapped him and been holding him hostage since. It had taken Erik too long to find out where they were hiding, but in his mind even five minutes were too long. Who knew what all Shaw had been able to do to him in that length of time. He just had to hope that Pietro was still alive and breathing. 

There was no doubt about it, Shaw was cruel enough to kill him, but keeping him alive meant leverage. If Pietro was dead there would be no stopping Erik, nothing to drive him to rush blindly into danger, nothing to keep him from burning the world in his wake. 

With Pietro alive, he had to be careful, spare lives, be as kind to Shaw as possible or risk his boy’s life. He could get so much more out of Erik, simply by having Pietro and threatening him over and over. Erik would bend over backward and jump through hoops to ensure that not a hair on Pietro’s head was so much as touched. 

Everything seemed eerily quiet and Erik was on edge. He knew he was in the right place but he didn’t know where Shaw was hidden or, better yet, where his son was being held. 

The entire place felt like a maze, Erik could feel the metal of the walls, the nails, screws, everything and could mentally come up with a map of the place. Still though, he couldn’t feel anything that seemed to be living, no warming metal, no belts or buttons, zips, watches, no sign of the metal Pietro always wore to ensure his father could find him if he needed to do so. 

There seemed to be no choice but to go in blind and hope for the best. If Erik had to guess, there was a place where his powers were blocked, a room or, perhaps, a whole section and that was where Pietro and Shaw were both hiding. But he was still going to be careful as he navigated the building. There wasn’t much room to explore, the building was a small one but there was still enough that Erik could feel the danger waiting for him around every corner. 

There had to be a hidden attic or basement, he decided, that would make sense with a place to hide, to keep Pietro where Erik wouldn’t be able to find him. But it would have to be a place that Erik could access. If not then it would be a rather stupid attempt to lure him.

Or a perfect trap, bring him somewhere that he could get to and be kept from his son. A place where he would spend time trying to access, only to be unable to do so. He would spend time there trying to get through, a sitting target, perfect for catching or just killing. 

But Shaw wouldn’t just kill him. There would be no fun in that, he would take his time with Erik. Slowly hurt him, torture him, drag it out for as long as he possibly could. He would have to be careful as he felt himself drawing closer. He had to be getting closer with the amount of ground he’d covered, yet he’d still seen no signs of life. 

It was in the distance that he heard a small sound, quiet and barely there, a rustle of clothes, a sniffle. No matter how small, Erik was alert enough that he heard it and was tensing up, ready for battle. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and it was with quieter and slower steps that he advanced. 

As he moved, his hand began to make its way to the gun held on his hip. The fear was any sudden movement being noticed by whoever awaited him at the end of the hall. There was the added worry that he would somehow make a loud sound, drop the gun—which was a foolish fear with his powers—or just the sound of his clothes rubbing together. 

There was no light anywhere to be seen and Erik wished that he had a secondary mutation to see in the dark. Or even just a flashlight, though that would surely alert anyone who would happen to be anywhere near. A giant target on his back that he certainly didn’t need. 

Another couple of steps closer and he realized who waited for him in the last room of the hall. Pietro. 

It took every ounce of self-control he had to not take off running for his son but he knew it had to be done. This was all too convenient, too set up. Erik had walked into too many traps in his life to not know one when he saw one and this was nothing but a trap. 

Still, he was with his boy and still hadn’t seen anyone or even a sign that anyone had been there. And that was when he began to wish he was a telepath or even brought one with him. Charles’s powers to communicate without talking would be invaluable at a time like this. 

With no other options, he did what he had to do, “Where is he, Piet?” He asked in a hushed voice, looking around to ensure at least momentary safety. As soon as he decided the coast was clear, he ducked down to untie his son’s mouth and hands. 

Immediately, the boy began to talk, “It was him, papa, the one you told me about. I know it was,” He said, the words coming out in a rush as though the gag was the only thing holding them all in. “He brought me here to get to you. You have to go before he comes back. I don’t know where he went, please, papa, we need to go.” 

As Pietro rambled on, Erik was working to untie his boy’s feet, but that was when he heard it. The slow, yet deliberate steps from behind him. A sob left Pietro and Erik could only slowly stand and turn, knowing who was awaiting him. 

“Erik,” Shaw said, a smile slowly spreading across his face, a smug look that Erik wanted to knock off as soon as he saw it.

“Shaw,” He said back, watching the man closely. If there was one thing that Shaw was, it was unpredictable and Erik was a little worried the man would lunge at him. Any movement would be a risk and it was just a matter of time before he did something. 

“I knew you would come. Anything for that little boy of yours, right?” Shaw asked, slowly walking, making his way closer to Erik and, as a result, his son as well. 

What Erik wanted to do was make the first move, yell at Pietro to run and jump on Shaw to distract him. But that may not be the smartest move. In a fight between the two, it was all too likely that Shaw would win with his powers. But it would give Pietro a chance to escape and that was the most important thing. 

With a small glance to Pietro—a look that Erik hoped he would understand—he mouthed “run” and just had to hope that his boy would follow directions. Then he made a jump for it, aiming for Shaw and hoping for the best. All he had to do was keep the man distracted enough that his son could get away. There wasn’t anything else on his mind. His son’s safety was where his thoughts began and ended. 

Fists went flying, one landing on Erik’s nose, another to his chin but he got one to Shaw’s eye and another to his chest before he started finding metal around the room, almost subconsciously. As soon as he realized what his powers were doing, he had it flying toward them, carefully avoiding himself and aiming for Shaw. 

A sharp piece of metal to his chest but it wasn’t enough to kill him. Erik was too afraid to hurt him too much or cause a lot of damage, knowing it could then be used against him. No, he just needed to distract him long enough that he could be sure Pietro was safe and then he could try to make his own escape. 

Which was when Shaw’s powers came into play and Erik found himself being tapped and thrown back against the wall with a sickening thud, his head slamming back painfully. But there was no time to recover, he just rushed at Shaw once again, not giving him time to get away or think that Erik was—at the very least—unconscious. 

A solid punch landed on Shaw’s stomach, making the man double over and then Erik was kicked behind the legs and he fell to the floor. His powers reached out again, wrapping around Shaw’s wrists, neck, legs and stomach. Keeping him in place, Erik landed a couple of more punches, one to his cheek, one to his stomach and a final one to his nose.

Thinking it had been long enough, Erik kept the hold on Shaw and moved him back against the wall, holding him captive. It wouldn’t last, there was no way, but he melted the metal into the wall to keep him there for as long as possible and then Erik ran. There was nothing to do but run. 

In his mind, he was playing through a scenario where he could kill Shaw. It was what he really wanted to do, but he would have to be patient for that to happen. A time when his son wasn’t at risk. A time that someone could help him, someone who knew more about Shaw’s powers and how to stop him from using them. 

Out of the building, Erik found his boy and picked him up, never stopping running. He just had to be thankful that Pietro had made it out, that he was—for the most part—alright. He needed to get them both to safety before he stopped, somewhere that they would feel a little safer than they were so close to Shaw.

Behind them, the building exploded and Erik held his boy closer to his aching body as he let the adrenaline carry them both. It felt like he must’ve ran at least a mile before slowing down a little, looking at Pietro. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, “Did he hurt you?” That was all he was worried about but Pietro seemed to have other things in mind. A small hand went up and touched Erik’s face, his throbbing nose, his bottom lip that Erik knew was bleeding. 

“Papa, you’re hurt,” The boy said softly, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Erik’s cheek as though that would take away all the pain. And it did help a considerable amount. 

“I’ll be fine, boychik, what about you? Did Shaw do anything to you? Are you hurt?” He asked again, wanting an answer this time before they made it much farther. He needed to know what direction to run to, a hospital—which he hated, but would deal with for his son—or to safety. 

The boy shook his head, resting it against Erik’s shoulder, “No, I’m okay,” He said softly, finding a tighter hold on Erik than he had before. It hurt but Erik was hardly going to complain. Not when he had his boy safe and sound in his arms. 

“Alright, we need to get out of here then. We’ll find somewhere safe, somewhere far away and start over,” Erik rambled as he started to walk again. He could put his boy down, make him walk. After all, he was six, plenty big enough to do so, yet Erik could think of nothing he wanted to do less than let go of the boy. 

“Again, papa?” Pietro asked, sounding none too happy about the idea and Erik wasn’t too surprised about it. This would be the first time they’d had to do this, after all. But this time he had an idea. A safe place for mutants he kept hearing about and people promised him there was nowhere that he and his boy would be safer. A school where Pietro could learn, could practice his powers, and make friends like him. A place where Erik could work and keep a close eye on his boy at the same time and they would never have to go out again, unless they wanted to. 

Still, it would be some time before they made it there, check in and ensure they’d be welcome, get Pietro enrolled and just the time it would take to move so far away. But Erik would still get started on it later that night after Pietro was asleep since he was sure it would be years before he’d be able to sleep soundly again. 

“This will be the last time, Piet,” Erik said softly, pressing a kiss to the boy’s forehead. “I promise. I’ve about got it all planned out. The best place for us both where we’ll be safe and no one will be able to get to us. You can go to school there and make friends. It’ll be perfect.” 

The boy said nothing until they were back home—a small two room apartment that Erik had tried his best with but in order to keep a low profile, there was only so much he could do. They shared a bed, pushed into the corner, a loveseat was off to the side pointed at a small box tv and against the other wall was the kitchen—a counter, fridge, and stove. The other room was a bathroom and it was hardly big enough for Erik to bathe Pietro. Not that he had to do that anymore, but when they first got the place a couple of years earlier, that had proven to be an issue. 

With the door closed and locked behind them, Erik sat down on the small bed in the corner and began to inspect his son for injuries. He wasn’t satisfied until he was able to confirm there were no new marks on him aside from a couple of bruises around his wrists from the restraints. 

“What about you, Papa?” Pietro asked before crawling off the bed and going into the bathroom. A moment later he came back with a washcloth, damp with cold water. With gentle touches, the boy began to wash the blood off Erik’s face. The man could do nothing but smile as his son cared for him, it felt a little wrong to let him do something like that, to let anyone care for him, but if Pietro wanted to then who was Erik to stop him. Especially when his boy was doing something so caring and nice. 

“Thank you, boychik,” Erik said as he finished up and then he settled back on the bed and reached for the remote, turning the TV on to some cartoon he had seen his son watch before. It only took a moment before Pietro was curled up in Erik’s lap with his head against his dad’s chest, falling fast asleep.

Erik knew that sleep wasn’t going to come to him for some while. Not when Shaw was still out there and still looking for them. He knew where they lived and it was just a matter of time. So, he reached for his laptop—hoping it wouldn’t black screen before he even got started—to start doing some work. The first search he had was Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.