CHAPTER EIGHTEEN...  

After what feels like ages, Erik finally tries to get me to stand up.

My limbs feel like lead, weighing me down. My hand rests on top of Shaw's, his skin as cold as ice, all life seeping from his corpse like the sun drawing behind a cloud. I don't know how long I've held his fingers in my own. My knees ache and my head swims. I don't know why I felt the need to touch him, why I needed to grasp his hand and watch as he died. It was quick, a fleeting moment that passed underneath my fingertips. One moment he was alive, pain burning like fire through his body, and the next, he was as cold as the icy shadows that had gripped me for so many years.

I used to think that the moment Sebastian Shaw died, I would feel a sense of relief. When his body went stiff and cold, a bright laugh would erupt from my lips. With that sound would go all of my pain. All my frustration and torment he had created.

It would all be gone.

Watching Sebastian Shaw die was nothing like I imagined. It was worse. So much worse.

I don't cry out in joy. I don't laugh and dance around. I don't sigh in relief. Something sinister crackles beneath my fingertips, a fire left untamed, and it hurts. Guilt and agony swim through my body, lighting my bones in a blaze that keeps me stuck to ground, watching the blood seep down Shaw's face.

He's dead. He's really, truly dead. And I had something to do with it. That is the part that makes my stomach lurch, causing my hands to grip the floor as I look over Shaw's dead body, my tears falling against his placid skin.

I let Erik move the coin, watched as it entered Shaw's skull and came out the other side. I closed the walls around my mind just to keep Charles' screams from entering my head. I did this, and now I'm paying for it.

Erik rests a hand on my shoulder, gripping my arm with ferocious intent. I don't fight him as he lifts me into his arms, one hand around my neck and the other under my knees. I don't look at him, I can't bear to. All I will find is revenge playing across a face already filled with so much rage. I can't look at him. Instead I bury my head into his chest, forcing my arms to wrap around his neck. Tears stain his collar, but neither Erik or I much care.

Erik looks towards the body of Shaw, and suddenly two thin wires are wrapping around the dead man's wrists. Erik lifts them up into the air, and Shaw hangs, a limp commander. It's as if he's being held up by strings, invisible, but cutting into his flesh none the less.

The puppeteer becomes the puppet.

I almost want to laugh. Instead, a shaky sob escapes my lips. Erik says nothing, only walks out of the mirrored room now a wreckage of glass and steel. He steps out into the classy lounge, Shaw dragging behind him. I rest my head against him, my eyelids brimming with tears. I feel numb, my insides churning against the barriers that keep me alive. I can't move, I can't speak, I'm too overwhelmed.

But overwhelmed with what?

I'm not grieving for Shaw, that wouldn't be possible. He was the one that brought so much ruin to my life. He took me away from my home, sliced me open to experiment before claiming I was what he needed.

No, I'm not grieving his death. I'm grieving the fact that I was the one who made it happen. I'm not a murderer, I don't want to be responsible for it, but I stood there, conflicted, and watched him die. The shame surges through me again, and I choke out a sob. Erik shushes me, and looks down, his eyes soothing. But underneath that calm, a storm surges.

A storm of triumph and vengeance. Of rage. It pricks at my heart, flaming shadows gripping the sides of my vision. Erik reaches the middle of the lounge and turns to one side, the side that will lead to the fallen jet, and reaches out one hand. Together, we rise off the ground, pulled by the metal lining our suits. Erik's hand does not shake as he rips a hole through the top of the submarine.

Glaring sunlight bathes us in it's heavenly glow as we float out of the ship and nearer to the beach. I look over, my head bobbing to see Charles and Moira running out of the plane. Sean, Alex, Raven and Hank are helping each other up nearest to us, and when I look over more, my stomach twists at the other three people.

Angel, Azazel, and Riptide stand farther away, their faces panic-stricken and slightly remorseful. A mess of emotions swirl around inside my head. I don't know what to do.

"Today, our fighting stops!" Erik calls out, his voice ringing in my ears. When I meet Charles' disappointed eyes, I look away. I can't bear to hold his gaze. Shaw floats ahead of us, his arms out wide. Erik takes one last look at him, then lowers his hand. The body falls to the ground with a dizzying crunch. Raven gasps. Everyone takes several steps towards him. Erik lowers.

He helps me down, and I land on the soft sand, my body flattening like a deflating balloon. I brace and hoist myself up onto my elbows, turning to look back up at the man. Thought he doesn't stare back at me. Instead, he turns to the yellow clad group of heroes, and the cluster of villains. For a moment, I think he's going to kill them.

But I do not see him advance on the three, he doesn't even frown at them. It is as if they have not just spent the last couple of weeks fighting against us. Then I remember what he just said. Today, our fighting stops. He doesn't plan on bringing justice to the Hellfire club.

"Take off your blinders, brothers and sisters." Erik continues. I grit my teeth and look over to where Erik's gaze rests. Azazel, with his burnt red skin and intricate scars, stares ferociously at Shaw's body. His tail flicks ever so slightly.

I hate him. I hate Riptide and while I used to know her, Angel sided with Shaw, and I find I hate her too. They deserve to be held accountable. They need to be brought to justice. Why is Erik talking like this? I thought all he wanted was vengeance, but now he acts as if he wants peace.

Erik points to the ships still crossing over the seas. "The real enemy is out there." I force myself to stand. My knees buckle underneath me, and my hand instinctively goes around my waist. I look at Erik, my brows scrunching together, breathing becoming more shallow with each pant. What is he talking about? No, no no no no no, I think, he can't seriously still think this way. Shaw is dead, the Hellfire club is before us, there should be no one else he needs to fight.

But I guess to Erik Lehnsherr, anyone can be his enemy.

"I feel their guns moving in the water," Erik says. "Their metal targeting us." He walks closer to the two groups, and Charles runs over to me. He places a hand under my shoulder, and together we walk closer. I don't want to. I want to get as far away from here as I possibly can, but I know that's not an option. I don't run away from my problems anymore, I stand and face them head on.

No matter if it breaks me, I will always try to stand the storm.

"Americans, Soviets, humans." Erik continues. Charles and I walk right towards him, Moira trailing behind us. The metal of Erik's helmet glints in the afternoon sun. His ocean blue eyes find mine, and they are filled with so much emotion I can't begin to sort through it all. The shadows tug at my vision once again.

"United in their fear of the unknown." Erik says. "The Neanderthal is running scared, my fellow mutants!" He walks towards the beach, and we walk beside him, several feet away. I stare into the side of Erik's skull, my eyes blazing.

Erik sounds like him again. Like the man lying dead several feet away from us. His words hold the same power, the same thunderous cacophony of vengeance. When he speaks, Erik becomes something different. Something terrible. I look away, back out into the ocean, but I can feel Charles still watching the helmeted man.

"Go ahead, Charles." Erik speaks to him. "Tell me I'm wrong." Charles grimaces but places his other hand on the side of his head and looks out towards the ships. In front of the rest, all three of us watch the sea. After a moment, Charles lowers his hand. A wave of inexplicable worry washes over me, and it feels like fire licking at my bones and my heart. I curl my hands into fists.

Charles doesn't say anything, only looks towards Moira. Almost imperceptibly, he nods his head. Moira's face goes slack and she immediately runs towards the fallen jet, most likely hoping to make contact with the American ships. I look to the legion and close my eyes. The fear I felt in the men before has only increased, but now their dread has purpose, renewed with a sense of determination. Determination to wipe everyone on this beach out. Erik was right, they are trying to kill us all.

But, a voice in the back of my head sings, that does not make them the true enemy. I can hear Moira's faint voice screaming into the comms, and after a minute, a wave of nauseating distress almost knocks me down. I let go of Charles and step away, my arms tightening around my stomach, mouth puckering. I can't believe it. They're going to kill us all.

I can feel Erik's eyes upon me, but I don't look at him. I don't look at any of them. This can't be happening. This can't be it. Shaw is dead, there shouldn't be anything else to worry us now. We shouldn't be fighting another battle right after the last one just ended.

This can't be happening.

An earth-shattering boom rocks the foundations of the earth, and from the ships, I see a dozen lines of smoke and fire soaring through the air. The missiles launch without hesitation, one right after the other, dozens upon dozens of canisters of death head straight for the beach. Straight towards us. I watch with wide eyes as we prepare to meet our fate.

This can't be happening.

A fiery prick of decision causes my head to swivel towards Erik. He stands, arms at his sides, as his cool gaze follows the trajectory of the weapons. His figure radiates with power, shadows dancing around his helmeted head. Erik reaches out one hand, his fingers spreading, pulling towards the metal, and the missiles all stop.

They float through the air as if suspended by strings, smoke billowing from behind them. Erik's hand doesn't shake. He watches his power keep death at bay. I almost smile, but then I feel the anger.

It heats up inside Erik, taking away all sense of practicality. He burns with fury and hatred. It eats at his insides as he slowly moves his hand around. The missiles follow. They swerve, turning to face the ships. My stomach drops.

"No, Erik!" I say. My fingertips buzz with adrenaline, Erik's emotions building up inside me. I can feel the power around me, the invisible shadows surrounding the world, waiting for my call. It's as if a wall is closing in around my body, a blanket of energy I never knew existed.

"Erik, you said yourself we're the better men." Charles speaks up. Erik doesn't move. "This is the time to prove it."

"Erik, Shaw is dead!" I say, my voice carrying across the beach. "There is no one left to fight." He shifts his head slightly to face me.

"You're wrong, Leena." Erik says. "There is always another enemy."

"No," I whimper. The shadows burn my eyes, my pupils growing dark. Something within me shatters at his words, and I resist the urge to keel over. My palms begin to shake, my power trying to burst through my skin.

"There are thousands of men on those ships." Charles yells. "Good, honest, innocent men." His words quiver. "They're just following orders."

Erik pauses then, his words bursting with pain and anger. "I've been at the mercy of men just following orders." He looks at me, where I stand, trying to keep my own ability at bay. "Never again."

The missiles fly, inching towards the ships where a thousand men are about to fall into oblivion. I drop to my knees, placing my hands over my ears as a thousand screaming voices puncture my mind. Shadows flit and shriek around me. Figures of soldiers collapsing to the ground, looking up to the sky for mercy.

"Erik, release them!" Charles yells. He can't do anything, he's powerless against Erik. They all are.

My mind breaks. All sense of the world seems to slow, and the air is shrouded in darkness. The beach and sands become ivory and ebony, the missiles covered in shadows. Around the ships, an aura of black resides like a blanket over the men waiting to die. Feathery smoke as dark as night swells in waves across the ocean. I stare up at it, hands falling away from my head, trying to figure out what just happened.

Then I figure it out. I know what I must do.

Ever since I gained control of my mutation, I have been so afraid to lose it that I have been suppressing my abilities. My true power. Back in training, even so far as back to when Shaw had me in his clutches, people have told me that when I grew strong enough I would be able pull dark energy out of thin air. That my powers would become unmatched the moment I unleashed them upon the world.

But I was too afraid.

I was a bird who thought she'd lost her wings, a fragile, broken girl who when she found out she could gain control had pushed down anything else that might rise to meet her. I never wanted to reach my full potential, in fear that it would be only temporary.

But, oh, how wrong I was.

As I stand on the beach watching the dark emotions flit around me, reincarnation of the emotions I now hold, I grow my wings.

Energy, bubbling and boiling from within me releases itself from my fingertips. Darkness swirls around me as I rise up into the air, my shadows carrying me over the sands. My hands stretch out to either side of me, shaded spirits swirling around my forearms. My wings sprout from my hands. It is as if the universe itself has wrapped itself around me. My mouth widens in a silent scream, a shriek of raw power as the darkness rushes towards the missiles. I close one fist and the missiles stop; the darkness, the shadows, keeping them from killing the men on the ships.

It looks as if night has overtaken the beach. Everyone covers their eyes watching as the Phantom stops the weapons Eric released upon humanity. As I move the missiles towards the water, permanently drowning them so that they can not harm anyone ever again, I feel a tug on the back of my neck.

My arms snap back, my head pulling itself downwards. I struggle against it, trying to use the energy around me to continue to move the missiles away from the beach. But whatever is grabbing onto me is too strong. I'm flung backwards, my power dissipating, falling onto the sand. Stars swim in my eyes as I quickly sit up, my neck aching.

Erik has his hand spread out towards me.

My eyes widen. He used his power to pull me back down by the metal lining my suit. I stare at him, tears filling up in my eyes. I turn to the others, trying to get one of them to stop him, but when I see their expressions, I realize they are not looking at Erik.

They're looking at me.

A mixture of awe and fear mingles upon all of their faces, and when I stand up, my knees buckling form beneath me, what remains of the Hellfire Club take a couple steps back.

I unleashed my full power. They're scared of me, of what I can do. The thought brings a half smile playing on my lips.

I became Phantom.

My ability still crackles at my fingertips as almost all the missiles fall into the ocean, too far past to be lifted into the air once again. But there are still a couple remaining.

My heart stops as Erik raises his hand again, and at least a dozen missiles rise up once more. I may have been able to stop some of the men from dying, but if Erik continues on, then at least one ship will go down. I try to walk towards him, my arms already reaching out to call on the shadows once more, but Erik is too quick.

His eyes blaze fire as he holds out his other hand towards me, and I'm sent flying backwards. I roll on the ground, sand sticking to my hair and lips and eyelids. My body groans. Charles looks at me, and when our eyes meet, his eyes burn. Erik stands his ground as he sends the remaining missiles forwards.

I'm powerful, but I've met my match in Erik, as I can't get up. My limbs are lead, grafting to my bones as if slathered with concrete. My power is fire burning my insides. Or is that Erik's anger? My head swims.

"NO!" Charles yells. He runs towards Erik and pushes him to the ground. I watch, helpless, as Charles tries to grab at Erik's helmet, attempting to pry it off his head. They flip in the sand, throwing punches at each other.

"I don't want to hurt you." Erik grits his teeth. "Don't make me." He flings his elbow back, and it collides directly with Charles' jaw. A terrible crack rings out across the space. The rest of us slowly walk towards the fight. Erik gets onto his knees and turns to them.

"Stand back!" he yells, his hand flying. Sean, Alex, and Hank are sent soaring backwards, just as I was, but I notice that he doesn't touch Raven.

I don't have time to dwell on the reasoning, however, as Charles tries to grab at Erik's helmet again. Erik reaches his other hand out towards the missiles. He places another hand over Charles' neck.

"STOP!" I shriek, finally finding the will to move towards them. I crawl across the sand, my hands slipping under me as my energy drains from my body.

"Erik!" Charles yells. "Stop!" he reiterates. Charles is able to get Erik's hand off his neck, but as he does, Erik swings his other hand and punches Charles across the face. Blood splatters on the white sands. The missiles fall again. Erik moves and stands upright while I shift towards him, gaining traction on the ground as I run. Shadows sprout from my palms, but Erik is again too quick, he pulls me forward and I fly over him, landing a couple feet away from Charles. I quickly scramble towards the telepath, and I can feel him slipping in and out of consciousness. When I look towards Erik, his eyes meet mine, and for a split second, I can see regret fill his head.

He didn't mean to hurt me, but as I peer at him, I realize it's too late for apologies.

"Erik, stop this!" My voice is hoarse. He doesn't listen to me. He's beyond reason, beyond any of our control. The raging man fires upon the US ship, a dozen missiles heading towards the side.

I place a hand on Charles' back as he tries to get up from the sand, placing an arm under his. We turn back towards the missiles. Charles slips over the sand but manages to find his footing. He turns back to the fallen sub while I watch Erik.

CRACK! A blazing gunshot rings out across the beach. I whirl around to see Moira, a gun in her hand, firing at Erik's head. The bullet bounces off the helmet easily. As I stand behind the two, I watch as Erik turns towards Moira. The missiles begin to fall.

Moira fires at Erik again, and again, and again. Erik raises one hand and deflects it, throwing the bullet to the side. He does this repeatedly, slowly walking towards Moira as he deflects bullet after bullet. I stand watching, unable to move.

Then it happens.

When Charles moves forward one step, Erik raises his hand up, deflecting the last bullet. I watch, behind all three of them, as the bullet enters the small of Charles' back. His hand flies to his spine, a cry, heart-breakingly gentle and filled with so much pain, flies out of Charles' mouth. He screams and falls to the ground. I yelp and move beside him, quickly pulling him onto his side.

Erik, all thoughts forgotten, runs around and lands beside me.

"Charles!" I cry. Tears slip down my cheek as his pain causes shadows to hug my vision. Erik moves his hand over the wound where the bullet entered and pulls the metal piece out. It lands in his palm. Charles groans, his mouth spluttering in pain. I place a hand on his chest, trying to ease his pain with my own. Erik swats my hand away, and I pull back, watching him. Erik doesn't turn to me, but his eyes are swelling with tears. Just as mine are.

The missiles fall to the ground, and I can feel the soldiers victory spurring new life into my tired and sore body.

"I'm so sorry." Erik says, then turns to the fast approaching group. "I said back off!" They stop advancing.

"Charles." I whimper. Erik does tell me to move, but I can feel his anger within him.

He looks towards Moira, who's face is so pained I can't bear to look at her. "You..." he spits. "You did this." Erik raises his hand, and the chain around Moira's neck tightens. Moira reaches her hand up to pry it away, choking. I instantly place both hands on Erik's forearm, trying to stop him.

"Erik, no!" I say. He doesn't listen. Moira's face grows red, ragged breaths leaving her body in gasps.

"Please." Charles' voice is faint, and I look down at him. "She didn't do this Erik." Erik looks down at Charles, then to my hands and up to my stricken face.

My jaw tightens as I spit. I frowned, my blood curdling at the sight of his panicked face. "You did."

✶✶✶

Erik felt as if the world was crumbling down around him.

He gazed into the eyes of the girl he'd come to care so much about, hoping to find one last shred of sympathy. But after all he had done, all he had sacrificed, Leena peered at him through cold, steely eyes. There was no remorse. There was no love.

He could not speak, not after what she had just told him, not after the look she gave him made his heart shatter.

He couldn't tell her that he was doing all of this so she could live a better life. He couldn't take her in his arms again and tell her he would protect her. He couldn't take her hand and lead her to a life where no one could ever hurt her again.

It broke his heart.

Erik's hand lowered, and Moira fell to the ground, gasping for air. A tear fell down Leena's cheek as she looked back to Charles, and instantly, her eyes softened. Erik held his breath and turned back to the man in arms. Charles looked at him through crystalline eyes, his face pained. Something passed across his features, a kind of knowing look. Like he understood what had just happened between Erik and Leena.

Erik finally found his voice. "Us turning on each other —it's what they want." his voice was a hoarse whisper. "I tried to warn you, Charles." He couldn't bear to look at Leena, but somehow, he knew that she understood he was also talking to her. "I want you by my side. We're brothers, you and I."

Finally, he did turn to watch the young girl. She was shooting daggers into his head. "All of us together," Leena stiffened. "Protecting each other." He looked back to Charles. "We want the same thing."

Leena shifted beside him, but from the corner of his eye, Erik saw her take Charles' hand.

Charles chuckled painfully. "My friend..." he said slowly. "I'm sorry, but we do not." Erik watched as his brother looked at him through sad, pained features. He shook as he lowered Charles to the ground, all the while trying with every urge not to turn to the girl staring at him. Erik looked at Moira, still standing poised, obviously wanting to go to the man he realized she loved. Erik beckoned her over.

Moira ran forwards and took Leena's place. He noticed that the girl had stepped back, her hands —like always— wrapped around her middle. She stood apart, curly hair falling over her eyes. Sand stuck to her suit, and dried blood glued to her forehead where she'd banged it against the jet. Erik would never forget the way he'd felt when she had slipped off the plane.

It was if the universe had grabbed his heart and crushed it into dust.

It was similar to how he felt now, as the girl backed away from him slowly. Erik took a step towards her, holding out his hands to try and show her he meant no harm. After a moment, Leena stopped. Erik stepped towards and placed both hands on either side of her arms. Leena didn't look into his eyes, and he found it was better that way.

If he had to stare once more into those orbs of emotion, wide and filled with pain, Erik would probably break.

"Leena." he whispered. She did not look at him. She did not speak. She wanted him to leave her alone.

"I can keep you safe." Erik continued. She did not respond. "Leena, society won't accept us, they won't accept you, but I will." she didn't look at him. "Please."

At the last word, the young girl finally peered into his eyes. It was if a storm had taken hold of her features, twisting her face to become something unknown and dangerous.

"I can't." she said, the words barely a whisper. "I know who you're taking with you, and I can't go." this surprised him. So she did know that he was taking the Hellfire Club as his own. Erik didn't know how to explain to her why.

"After all they did to me," she said. "After all they did." her voice grew louder. "You would kill men following orders without hesitation, Erik, but you go with others blindly. They also followed orders. They watched as Shaw tortured me and did nothing." she pointed towards Angel, Azazel and Riptide. "They were following orders, and you still go with them!"

She pushed Erik away, her small hands holding more force than he'd first thought. Erik stumbled over the sands, his face going slack as the girl he cared about more than anyone pushed him away.

"Leena—" he started.

Leena gave him a look. "You don't care about unity, Erik. You never did. You're filled with vengeance and hate and I can't follow you! I can't!" she was crying now, her face pulling taut. "I don't care what you say, I don't care what you do, but I am not following you to whatever place you go next!" she whispered. "I can't."

Erik Lehnsherr had lost his voice. He was broken, a toy left out in the rain, screws rusted over, paint shipped, a lost thing in an ever swirling abyss. Lost, he was so utterly lost. Lost for words, lost for time, he had lost the one person who he thought would understand, the one person he wouldn't mind being right by his side.

He lost everything when she spoke the next words. "You are becoming like him, Erik. And I can't go with another man like him."

Everything froze; time, space. Agony pricked at his veins, and snuffed out the fire growing within him. That was it. The words she spoke were all it took for Erik to realize had nothing more to lose. She wasn't going with him, he couldn't protect her. Leena Talley had been taken from him, the girl he'd done all of this for.

Erik's jaw set, and his brows knitted together. "Goodbye, then." the words were knives upon his tongue, but he had to keep the facade. He couldn't show them that he had broken, he couldn't let Leena know that he was shattered because of her.

He couldn't.

Erik took one last look at the girl he'd thought of as a daughter, and turned back to the group watching him. It was time to play his part.

He pointed to Charles. "This society won't accept us." play the part. "We form our own." he gestured to the ships. "The humans have played their hand... Now we get ready to play ours." A single tear fell down Erik's cheek. In that single moment of sadness, a drop of everything he had lost, Erik found his new purpose.

"Who's with me?" he asked. Sean, Hank, and Alex glared at him, but he had already known they wouldn't join him. That only left Raven, beautiful in her blue form, a woman he'd also found he cared for, but could live without. She was strong, he knew, and she was also conflicted.

He reached out his hand for her. "No more hiding." After a moment, Raven limped towards him. She looked between Charles and Erik as she walked. Then she kneeled beside the wounded man. Erik found he did not care. She was not someone he had lost.

He shut his mind away from his thoughts. Raven spoke with Charles, but Erik did not listen. When Raven went to get up, Erik held out his hand again. He turned his back on the girl behind him and watched with cool satisfaction as the Hellfire club went to him. They linked hands.

Play the part.

Though he wanted to —wanted to with all his heart— Erik did not turn to take one last look at Leena.

They vanished into oblivion.

✶✶✶

I fall to my knees.

He is gone.

A silent scream bursts through me, and I feel myself starting to break.