━━ REUNIONS

EARLIER...

ERIK DIDN'T KNOW HOW LONG he'd been laying down. 

Time was a forgotten virtue in the prison. Confined within the sand and cement walls, Erik had lost all sense of time and space. He wasn't so much a person anymore, rather a broken down puddle of torn apart shreds. Humanity had taken a back seat.

But that wasn't the first time he'd started to break.

Flashes of their faces passed across his mind, and it took everything in him not to move, not to grunt and throw something against the walls. His hands rested comfortably atop his stomach, and in his quest for bliss, a storm raged underneath. Because that was what he was... rage.

She'd told him in as much. In her terrified looks, in her arms wrapped around her middle. In her eyes, usually an emerald flashing in the sun, reduced to nothing more than a sick pewter green. He could never get that face out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. He'd given everything in him to forget the past. Forget the manor house, where his memories were swathed in honey tinted sunshine, in peaceful happiness. Those few weeks, his world had been near perfect. He'd gained a new branch in his abilities. He'd had Raven, her love and affection for a brief time.

But most of all he'd had her. Leena. Just the sound of her name ricocheting around his mind made him wince. Fragile and delicate, the little girl of chestnut curls and soft smiles. Afraid of who she was, beaten and bruised from Sebastian Shaw's cruelty, Leena had been the brightest ray of light in his life of darkness .

(it was ironic how she was the muse of shadows, yet he saw her as anything but)

She'd been the one Erik had stayed for. Unable to leave when she was carefully mending, Unable to abandon her at the CIA facility after he'd made a promise. A promise he'd broken. A promise he'd broken over and over again.

It was his greatest regret. His greatest fault. And Erik could never fix it.

He would be stuck there for the rest of his life, trapped in a cage with unfinished regrets weighing on his chest. In the ten years, his heart had turned black. Rotten with festering guilt, his broken body had turned to nothing, a mess of anger and sorrow. Unbidden, untamed, a calamity.

Her tear-stained cheeks and terrified eyes flashed across his head, and Erik shut his eyes tighter.

His thoughts were interrupted by something brushing up against the side of his arm. Erik forced himself to move, his stomach grumbling. All images of the day in Cuba were pushed to the back of his mind as the strange white paper tucked into the tray of his food caught his eye. Above the disgusting potatoes and stale bread, the slip of paper read clear in bold letters; Mind the Glass.

Erik scrunched his eyes in confusion, sitting up on one elbow and craning his stiff neck up. Above the glass was a security guard that looked no older than 20, with odd silver hair peeking out of his cap. His high cheekbones and prominent dimples made Erik pause in recognition. For a split second, he remembered someone from a long time ago, a woman he'd almost forgotten about. It went as quickly as it had come, and Erik's attention was dragged back to the situation at present.

The boy smiled widely, and Erik furrowed his brow. That smile reminded him of the manor, of the little girl by his side. She used to grin like that, when she won at a game of cards, or when Sean would say something amusing. It was bashful and sweet, innocent and peaceful. Erik's frown deepened, his brows knitting closer.

How old would Leena be now? Around 20... 25? He remembered the day he'd first met her, a timid little thing held in Sebastian Shaw's fierce grip. He remembered the way she'd mouthed the words "help me" to him when he'd been on the yacht. She'd helped rid him of Emma Frost's hold over his mind, those strange shadows of hers releasing the torment upon his head.

He still remembered telling her to hold on as they jumped over the side of the boat, together, leaping for freedom.

And look where it had brought him. Right back to another cage. Only this time, he had the burden of his misdeeds placed permanently between his shoulder blades.

Erik watched, unamused, as the boy knelt down in front of the glass and placed both palms on it. Erik stood, limbs creaking, mind aching, as the boy held his funny little grin.

It was barely perceptible, and for a moment he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, like they always did in this cell. Only it wasn't a dream, nor a nightmare. The boy's hands were humming, thumping against the glass so fast he could barely detect their movements. When he realized all too late what was about to happen, something Erik had thought long gone returned to his chest, hitting him like a steam train.

It worked it's way towards his heart, piercing his bones, making him stagger backwards slightly. His eyebrows shot up as images of her floated around his head, stronger than ever. The hope making a home in his gut went against everything Erik had built up for himself, and yet, he welcomed it.

When the glass broke, Erik shielded his head with his hands, the shards glancing off his body as if he wasn't really there. It pooled at the floor, glistening pieces of a broken cage. The boy stepped back, clearly ecstatic his trick had worked. Erik's fellow mutant waited for him to jump up, but the older man paused for a second.

He had a sneaking inclination of what was going on, on why he was being let free. But the notion was too hard to swallow, as if a dagger were being forced down his throat. It made bile rise in his stomach, the thought of them being here. Because of this, Erik told himself —no, he convinced himself— that they weren't really there. This was a job done by either an international government or someone wanting to risk everything. Those reasons were much more probable than what he'd first thought.

So, without looking back, Erik jumped up from the inside his cell, pulling himself towards freedom. He didn't acknowledge his saviour, only pulled his body to a standing position. His eyes darted cautiously towards the sealed cement doors in front of him. In his hands, his mutation searched for metal, for any sort of steel he could manipulate at his will. However, this place was built like it was made for specifically him, and the metal he did feel was too far away to be of any use.

He grimaced, the hope dissipating. He should have known this would end as quickly as it had begun.

"In three seconds," Erik's voice was hoarse from years of neglect. "Those doors are going to open," he pointed for emphasis, turning his head back to look at the strangely familiar boy. "And 20 guards will be here to shoot us." The moment he turned his head back, Erik felt something quickly graze his side, and suddenly the boy was right beside him, holding onto the back of his neck.

Erik withheld from snapping the fake guard's arm off, understanding that he had just tried to rescue Erik, and the man shouldn't retaliate by killing his rescuer, no matter how stupid.

"I know." the boy said happily. "That's what I'm waiting for."

"What are you doing?" Erik asked, a threat in his tone. He had grown paranoid over the years, the result of a broken soul and bruised heart.

"I'm holding your neck so you don't get whiplash." the boy replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"What?" Erik answered quietly. His eyebrows, held in the same frowning position for almost ten years, didn't soften as the boy leaned closer to his ear.

"Whip..." he practically yelled, and Erik tried not to flinch. "lash." He stopped and turned back ahead, but Erik could still feel his smile. A million questions ran through his head as time seemed to slow around him. He was distinctly aware of his heart beating rapidly in his chest, of his eyes burning from his unwillingness to blink.

Slowly, Erik prepared himself for death, just as he did every day, when a guard would linger a little longer, his hand on his plastic pistol. It had happened more than once, when one of the men had come to finish him off for good. At the beginning, Erik had challenged them, manipulating them to do his bidding, words running over them like a silk blanket. But in recent years, Erik had done nothing. He was tired, exhausted even, and when the terrified guard would walk in and stand above Erik, he'd simply let them. He'd almost wanted them to make the finishing stroke.

The doors swung open near silent, and Erik tensed as the sound of pattering feet reached his ears. The guards came into view, guns raised towards them, condensed bullets of unsung treachery ready to embed themselves in the escapee's flesh.

"Don't move!" One of them yelled out, but it was too late.

Erik didn't exactly know how to describe what came over him in that moment. It was as if gravity had become relative. Science was neglected to the side, pushing and pulling up against him as if it was a living, breathing thing. The world had been sent off kilter, spinning endlessly. Erik's stomach rolled as he saw only flashes of dark and light. His eyes watered, his fingertips burned, and bile rose up his throat threateningly.

It ended as quickly as it had begun. The next thing he knew, Erik was leaning up against a bright white wall, his hands splayed in front of him, trying ever so hard not to collapse to the floor. His legs threatened to give way beneath him, the result of gravity snapping back to attention, pulling taut so that he was being torn in several directions at once.

There was a brush of air on his back, but Erik could not turn around. He gulped, willing the sick away, appearing strong in front of the boy. It wasn't working, and Erik closed his eyes for a moment. When the boy let out a heavy breath, he did turn, and was surprised to find he'd changed out of his clothes into a silver leather jacket and Pink Floyd t-shirt. Erik frowned, having only a vague inclination of what that even was.

The elevator whooshed closed, and Erik turned back to the wall.

"You're good, it'll pass." the boy said behind him. "It happens with everyone." Erik didn't acknowledge him, the adrenaline of what had just happened making him want to keel over. Freedom was on the edge of his lips, so close he could almost taste it, and Erik wasn't sure if he wanted to cry out in joy and grasp the first living thing in sight and strangle it to death. The rage which planted itself on his heart gripped him with a smoldering fist, and would not let go.

"You must have done something pretty serious." the boy spoke up again, and Erik frowned. "What'd you do, man? What'd you do?" Erik forced his head straight, taking a shuddering couple of breaths, biting the inside of his cheek. His hands curled into fists.

"What'd you do?" the boy continued. "Why'd they have you in there?"

"For killing the president." Erik spoke up, his voice as coarse as sand. The silence that followed was immense, with a mind of it's own. It gave Erik space to get a hold of himself, standing upright, his mind clearing a little. All theories on why they were breaking out were pushed to the edge of his mind as he continued to justify his actions.

"The only thing I'm guilty of is fighting for people like us." people like her. He'd been fighting for people like her this whole time, and now that freedom was on the edge of becoming reality, Erik would continue to do so. It was the only thing he had left.

"You take karate?" the boy asked playfully. "You know karate, man?"

With the sick almost reaching his throat, Erik choked out. "I don't know Karate. But I know crazy." the boy looked down at his feet, laughing to himself. His laugh reminded him of her. Erik stiffened. I know crazy. It was true. He'd known crazy his whole life. He'd once cursed himself for being insane, crazy for leaving the beach in Cuba, crazy for abandoning the home he'd built at the manor, with the other mutants. Then he would tell himself that it was crazy to stay, crazy to go on living a lie.

After a beat of silence, the boy spoke up again, his voice soft. "They told me you control metal?" For a moment, Erik couldn't fully process his words.

When they came full force through his mind, his heart seized. "They?" Before the boy could answer, however, the elevator dinged, and slowly but surely came to a halt. Erik was too fixated on the boy's words to notice. They, they, they. Could it have been? No, Erik shook his head slightly, it wasn't, it couldn't be. They wanted nothing to do with him.

"You know," the boy spoke up, seemingly forgetting Erik's confusion. "My mom once knew a guy who could do that."

Erik didn't have time to question, nor think more to himself, because right as he stopped speaking, the elevator doors opened.

✶

The world is crumbling down around me.

My breath has left my body. Everything is frozen; my lungs, my bones, my heart. All of it is suspended in the air, squeezed tight, crumbling it all. Someone has reached into my soul and crushed it to only a blistered, choking, broken pile of dust.

I don't know what to do.

Somewhere that seems far away, a person is gripping my shoulder, a comforting hand trying to pull me back to reality, but all I can do is stand, trying ever so hard not to fall apart, as I stare at his face.

He's barely aged a day. The same sculpted features and smooth ivory skin, the same fiery eyes and copper tinted hair. Everything about him is the same, and yet, he's not the person I remember at all. Somehow he's more... soft? The rough edges that used to line his heart seem to have vanished, and I don't need to look at his emotions to know he's somehow broken as well, just like me.

That treacherous day in Cuba hits me full force. The cold and bright room. Shaw's hands holding me to his chest. Erik making the coin move. It all floods through my mind, as potent as real life, and just as dangerous.

I watch in the corner of my mind as I fall to my knees in front of his dead body, scars burning, a lost bird finally set free, yet finding no home. I remember the other man carrying me out of the submarine, my arms snaked around his neck. I remember him trying to kill all the humans.

Our push and pull with the missiles, my true powers breaking free. It all rushes through me so fast I get a head rush, staggering on my wobbly feet. Logan keeps me steady, looking between where I stand and the two people in the open elevator.

I whimper, though I'm not sure if it's from heartache or something much worse.

Erik Lehnsherr stands in a white uniform, hands at his side, gaze locked on the people in front of him.

First he looks at the man he'd come to admire. "Charles?"the man he speaks to whirls around, saying nothing.

And then Erik's eyes find mine.

"Leena?"

I almost fall to the ground. Logan holds me upright, and my voice is completely gone. Erik's eyes are shocked, filled to the brim with so many emotions even I can't figure them all out. Regret and pain and shock run through him, I can tell. He stands, frozen, before us, looking between Charles and I.

Before anyone can say anything else, the man I've been taking care of for ten years rounds up his arm and punches Erik across the face. I gasp out loud and walk forward, forgetting that I can barely stand. I trip over my feet but am able to keep myself steady as I come up beside Charles, placing a hand on his shoulder. Under my fingers, he shakes violently, and I know that through that one punch, Charles just let out every unsaid regret and heartbroken promise he's been keeping to himself these past years.

I almost want the same. I want to let everything out, everything I've kept hidden, every little broken piece I've picked up from my mind and tucked away. I want to release it all, all my anger, all my hate, all my grief. The only problem is, I don't know how. I don't know whether or not I want to punch Erik like Charles, or run to him and wrap my arms around his waist. I don't know if I hate him or still love him. I don't know if he's still the father I lost, or the exact opposite.

I don't know what to do.

Erik falls to the floor with a grunt as Charles pulls me back and shakes out his hand. The fury that carves deep into both their hearts is enough to make shadows flit inside my head menacingly. But I'm too torn to notice it that much. My gaze won't leave his face, my eyes raking over his features, finding almost nothing having changed, yet everything at the same time.

Erik slumps back against the wall, holding his jaw. He doesn't look at me, and a part of me is grateful, but the other is screaming for his eyes to reach mine.

"Good to see you, too, old friend." he says, his accented voice making memories I've spent years pushing down rise to the surface. I try not to bite my lip, knowing that the last time I did so when a memory popped up, I had a tender spot of angry red skin for a week.

Erik points to Erik's legs. "And walking." I grit my teeth.

"No thanks to you." Charles replies, ice lining his words. This makes me wince, and Erik slowly gets up from his spot on the ground, reaching his full height. Finally, his eyes move to mine, and they hold on my face.

I take a deep breath and push past Charles, moving to stand in front of Erik. I'm still as short as I was ten years ago, and Erik is still as tall as ever. He looks down at me, hands curled at his side, eyes taking in my unchanged features. I open my mouth to say something, to say anything. I need to tell him what's happened these past ten years. I need to tell him about the manor, about the nightmares, the voices plaguing my mind. I need to tell him about the serum, about my control over the dark energy. I need to tell him everything, but all I can do is stand there, my voice gone.

Erik finally breaks the awkward silence, moving his hands to grip both of my forearms. His touch is as light as feathers, but it's enough to make me look down at my shoes.

In barely a whisper, he says. "It's good to see you, Leena." I freeze, but I'm not sure why. Erik seems to feel my body tense, and drops his hands. A shiver runs down my spine, and I look up at him, tears blossoming along my eyelids.

"Erik I—" but before I can finish, Erik turns to Charles again, who's pulled me back by the elbow.

"You're the last people in the world I expected to see today." My throat has gone dry, like sandpaper.

Charles inhales deeply and answers. "Believe me, we wouldn't be here if we didn't have to." At this I look up, a protest blossoming on my tongue, but when I see Erik's pained expression towards me, I fall silent.

Charles drops his hand from my arm and steps towards Erik. He continues on. "If we get out of here, we do it my way— no killing." he clarifies. Erik's eyes are darting between us, but when Charles says this, he smirks and moves his hands up to the sides of his head.

"No helmet." he replies. "I couldn't disobey you even if I wanted." I try not to show that Erik is wrong through my expressions. Charles steps forward, and I can feel his hate radiating off him in ebony waves. My nails dig into my palms, the bandages wrapped around my bruised knuckles throbbing harshly.

"I'm never getting inside that head again." Charles spits out. "I need your word, Erik." The rage-filled men stare at each other for a moment. When Erik looks in my direction, I give an almost imperceptible nod, and he turns back to Charles. He does the same, and we all let out a breath.

At that moment, the sound of clattering feet reach our ears. We all turn to see about a dozen guards with plastic guns raised in our direction. They flank each side of the room, and their fear and hesitation hit me immediately. My fingers dip

tighter into my skin, eyes narrowing.

"Hold it right there!" one yells. Charles grips my wrist as I come beside him and Logan. I can feel Erik tense behind me, his apprehension on his promise painfully clear.

"Charles?" he calls out, but the man he's trying to reach is gone. His eyes are wide, helpless, as he stands powerless before the guards. I pull my fingers through his, trying to console him, but Charles is as stiff as a board.

"Don't move!"

Erik's eyes burn holes in the back of my head. "Hands up, or we will shoot!" another guard calls out. I take a deep breath, trying to steady the mess of darkness pooling over the sides of my mind. After using up most of my energy on the control room, the dark energy has been spread thin, exhausted from all the work. I can't control all of these men, no matter how hard I try.

"Freeze them, Charles." Erik pleads.

Charles grimaces. "I can't." Erik looks at him in surprise, moving between us. Then he turns to me, a question in his eyes. I can't bear to gaze at them, not with the truth burning my lips.

"Leena?" Erik says fervently. "Leena, make them calm down." I bite the inside of my cheek and open my palms, letting some energy pool to the floor, but it quickly fades as drowsiness sweeps over me, a rush of what I've made the employees in the control room feel. I close my hands again, wincing.

"Me neither." I say bitterly. Erik moves his head up, eyes widening. Suddenly, all of the metal shelves around the room begin to shake, growing steadily more violent. Pots fall off the shelves and don't reach the floor, suspended by an invisible string.

"No!" Charles and I both cry out at the same time. I whirl on Erik and Charles grips the man's shoulder. Erik's face is determined, his eyes blazing, and my stomach twists violently at the realization he's about to break his promise. Again.

The bang of bullets releasing from the air fill my ears. All of the sharp utensils rise, and someone pulls me backward; Logan. His claws begin to sprout from his knuckles as he slowly pulls me behind him.

And then the strangest thing happens. Something brushes by my side, quick and fleeting. I'm distinctly aware of vague flashes dancing across the room, silver blurs that I almost think aren't there at all.

It passes in an instant, and both Logan and I stumble back by some unseen force. Bullets hit the wall behind me, barely missing my ear and arms. Charles and Erik move back, the bullets heading their way doing the same. There is a large clattering in front of us, and when Logan and I struggle onto our feet, our eyes widen simultaneously as all the guards around us drop and are defeated by various means. Two have been reconfigured to punch each other in the face, another has been pulled up. Other's smack their heads with their guns, knocking themselves flat out.

In a matter of seconds, the entire floor is a clutter of unconscious bodies and overturned dishes.

Across from us, Peter stands with music playing through the speakers on his ears. Somehow, he has acquired a security baseball hat, and he shifts from foot to foot, a smug look on his face. It takes me a moment to realize that this has all been his doing.

I smile softly, impressed. Erik and Charles share a look, then the telepath walks over the bodies towards the exit. I stand beside Logan, and Erik looks towards us. He can't meet my gaze, and instead raises a quizzical brow towards Logan's retracting claws. Then he follows after Charles. They walk past Peter, hardly acknowledging he's there.

Logan and I don't do the same. We walk up to him, and Logan pats him on the back. "Thanks, kid." Peter nods slightly and I give him the warmest smile I can muster.

"Thank you, Peter." I tell him. The boy grins from ear to ear, and we follow after the rest through the exit, heading towards liberation. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE...

well folks, there it is... THE REUNION. Erik, Charles and Leena are finally back together, and it couldn't be more angsty, sad, and downright heartbreaking... 

I would love to know what you thought of this chapter! What did you think of the little insight into Erik's life up until this point at the beginning? What did you think of Leena and his reactions to seeing each other again, wasn't it heart-wrenching, I was on the verge of breaking down writing those two meeting up again. Next chapter is going to be VERY SAD so get ready, as Leena will learn a little bit more about what happened to some certain people, and Erik will definitely get over-protective of her! YIKES. 

As always, don't be afraid to comment your thoughts on this chapter, as well as vote and give me a follow if you like. Until next time...

Love you, Mal