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In the wake of the electrical bolts targeting the President, there are sure to be repercussions that will shake the entire country. But in the moments directly following it, few people are thinking of that just yet. Especially the people affected by the hail of mysterious shrapnel caused by an out of control Magneto.
Charles meets Erik's eyes, Erik's own horror reflected there, though Charles is unable to offer any reply before Erik slumps to the ground, bleeding from the mouth.
Charles forces himself to his feet, nearly stumbling as he puts a hand on Crystal's shoulder. «Erik wasn't shot, something went horribly wrong with his powers— I've bought us some time Crystal, but we need to go now.» There's an almost erratic quality to Charles' thought, as the stunned pause from the crowd is flooded over with panic, pain, and alarm. Charles grunts, his other hand curling to the side of his head as it all crashes in on his mind… he may arguably be the most powerful telepath in the world, but where no single mind may find it easy to overpower him, a thousand perfectly mundane minds shrieking alarm from every side can manage it handily. If they don't make it out of there soon, he may soon be following Erik's example.
*
For his part, Alex has taken up position with his standard guard-posture: his arms bent and ready to blow anyone up who needs blowing up. It's what Havok does, after all. But there's no one who needs blowing up at present, and if he started going all out with the Havoking, he'd probably start a riot. Still, he doesn't know what *else* to do, so he guards his fellow X-Men as his default position. "Did anyone see who did it?"
*
"Charles." Crystal's voice is firmer as she looks up to the professor, then around the trio. "I need you to hold it together for just a few more minutes. This is clearly a very bad time to fly the two of you out of here." She tightens her arm around Erik's waist, draping his arm over her shoulders as she searches for anything resembling privacy around them. Crowds are very bad for that.
"Focus, Charles," she says quietly, reaching for his hand with her other hand to pull him after her as she heads for a spot away from the route, behind a storefront. "I need you to hide us just long enough for Lockjaw to get here. I couldn't see anything, Alex," she answers distractedly. "But he has an entire team of powered people at his side right now. If they can't handle it, then they're going to need to start hiring."
*
Nightmares have set in, almost immediately. No respite for the wounded; Erik can see them in his mind, the bodies stacked up in haphazard rows behind a sign cruelly marked 'ARBEIT MACHT FREI'. The soldiers laughing as they toss a screaming infant from one person to the other in a circle, shouting 'Judische Ratte' over and over again, before one of them misses and the infant strikes the hard, clay earth.
Erik groans and jerks against Crystal, his eyelids fluttering. In the nightmare, each of those bodies are people his uncontrolled magnetokinesis has wounded; the baby, bearing Jackie Kennedy's face, looks up at him with horror in her dead eyes.
Some metallic objects around the others begin to vibrate and buzz against the ground.
*
The crowd around them is only becoming more turbulent as screams and confusion mix with the injured and those with them trying to get help. Charles makes a pained noise, face pale and eyes squeezed shut, but he manages a nod. Crystal's hold on his hand at least makes his response clearer when he thinks, <I'll do what I can.>
He's just starting to erratically resume projecting the aura of unremarkability about the small group when his watch starts rattling on his wrist. <Oh, no..>
Focusing on Erik would actually be a lot easier than trying to deal with the crowd right now, and if that rattling gets the slightest bit worse he's prepared to do as he said and try to shut Erik's powers down. But if he does that it's going to leave them sticking out like a sore thumb to the throng.
*
Havok backs a bit closer to the group, and still stands ready. "If push comes to shove I can convince everyone to run away from us, if need be. How long until the dogtaxi, Crystal?" Alex is just not really useful in the non-destructive capacity. But if need be,…
*
"That is an excellent question," Crystal grimaces to Alex. "Lockjaw is…" She shakes her head, distracted from the conversation by the need to erect a countering magnetic field around Erik. It won't hold long, and it won't hold against the full force of his powers, but it should at least dampen the effects.
Thankfully they're near the back of the crowd, and it doesn't take long to get to the alley. "Just a moment longer, Charles, he should be here any second."
*
"No…" Erik's head moves this way and that, his fingers tightening on Crystal's arms. "Mmmm… mother… no…"
Thanks to Crystal, the force field quells the effects. However, in the thin space of air between Erik's body and the force field, shit is getting dangerous. If one were to look close enough, Erik would appear to be fuzzy, like an out of focus camera, due to the mounting magnetic interference emanating from his body and reflecting from the invisible force field.
*
"Alex, mind the entrance." Charles grits out, knowing they're in the alley more from Crystal's perceptions than his own. He can also tell whether he wants to or not that the barrier she's raised can't take what Erik's throwing at it for long.
Charles pries his hand from his head to grab for Erik's wrist, thankfully the one without a watch. With the conduit of contact, he dives entirely into Erik's mind, providing a blessed relief from the press of the crowd.
Of course it also blinds him to everything happening outside and dispels the erratic cloak of disinterest that had been shielding them.
It should also be noted that Erik's mind isn't exactly a peaceful place itself right now.
Charles' projection appears next to Erik, and though Erik's nightmares aren't exactly new to him, his stomach turns sickly at the grisly scenery. First things first though, his mental self throws out both hands, forcibly disconnecting Erik's access to his powers. It's abrupt and jolting, surely not much help with calming the nightmare, but right now Charles is on his last legs, and there's the safety of themselves and everyone around them at stake.
*
Stepping forward, Alex takes up a 'dont fuck with me' grrim attitude as he presents himself to bodily block anyone from approaching if they might want to. The level of unfriendliness that he puts off is impressive: one might get the sense that Havok has spent some time in front of a mirror practicing this. When they are no longer ignored and someone approaches, Alex holds a hand up, "Stay back. Official business." Official who? Who knows. He figures attitude counts as a lot right now.
*
"Lockjaw, any moment now…" Crystal bows her head, focusing, and after a moment the giant dog appears in the alley beside them, big enough to press some of them to the wall. "Hands on, everyone, we're going home before this gets any worse." She moves closer herself, making sure that Erik is pressed against Lockjaw as well. As soon as everyone is in contact, they'll blink away from Dallas, back to the safety of the school.
*
The scenery changes within Erik's dreamscape; the horrid nightmare of Auschwitz blending away as a single room replaces it. A man is seated behind a desk, red band bearing the Swastika on his arm. Behind Erik, a haggard, middle aged woman wearing rags. The Nazi soldier behind her has a German luger pointed toward her head. Erik, rather than the young boy he was, is his fully grown self, his jaw drawn into a fit of anger and grief. The man behind the desk mouths words that have no sound, and points angrily at a Deutschmark bearing the same Swastika upon his desk. With a silent snarl, Erik reaches toward the coin, but it does not move; Charles, standing there beside him, has deactivated his powers.
Erik has told Charles many things about his youth, but this one had remained a secret. No one knew of it, save his newly found daughter, Lorna Dane, and even she had been spared the gory details.
Not so for Charles Xavier.
Coinciding with Lockjaw's transportation, there comes a loud *bang!*, and the woman's forehead explodes. Erik screams a silent scream, before his eyes pop open in the real world.
Gasping, he looks from face to face, his eyes wet and filled with that same anger and grief held by his slumbering avatar.
*
Still hanging on by a thread himself, Charles can only watch in horror as Erik's mindscape shifts. He's caught flashes in passing of Erik's fixation on a certain coin he carries now and then, the cold, twisting emotions that surround it, but had never pressed.
It only takes him a moment when he sees the coin on the desk to understand.
Hardly thinking straight himself he tries to catch Erik by the arm, insist to him this isn't real, but his words are lost. Sucked up like every other drop of sound in the scene as the gun's muzzle flashes and Erik's mother is killed before him in the calm stillness of silence.
It's Erik waking up that throws Charles back into his own body… and straight into the mother of all headaches.
It's probably just as well he's already collapsed in the grass outside the school after Lockjaw and a wall were no longer conspiring to keep him upright, because the first thing he does is roll over and promptly throw up.
Not exactly the most inspiring debriefing he's ever given, but at the end of the day, at least they made it home in one piece.
*
"Everything settled, Professor?" asks Alex from his place as guardian, keeping his glare going on full power for anyone who shows any untoward interest in the alley and the little team.
*
Alex totes did not get left behind, he guards right? But with a hand on doggy shoulder.
*
Crystal is blind to the story playing out in Erik's mind, but she knows him well enough by now to know when he's lost to his past. She's weathered enough nightmares. And as Lockjaw brings them back to the school, and Erik's eyes open again, she reaches a hand to his nape, pulling him down to hold his brow to hers. "Erik." Her voice is calm, low, as she tries to hold his gaze. "Erik, look at me. We're home, okay? We're home, and you're safe, and we're safe."
*
A few more breaths and Erik would have likely begun hyperventilating, but Crystal knows well how to center him. It's a familiar gesture; usually in the dark of night, but here, in the suddenly cold afternoon back in Westchester County, his eyes find her. His breathing slows, the look in his eyes reserved for her alone. The grief fades, but the horror remains. The nightmares, after all, were familiar to him; what he saw in Dallas, moments ago, was not. It's burned there, in the back of his mind, like a reflection in the woman's green eyes.
"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm so sorry."
*
It's the pressure of that headache which keyed Moira off at first. She knew that sensation from Charles. She'd only felt it a few times before, but it was almost a panic button. So, while Moira isn't exactly great at running these days, as fast as her hip and crutch can take her, she's double timing out of the mansion and towards the mess of people on the front lawn. Her pale eyes are wide and shocked, still rimmed with tears from having been watching the news with a few of the other stunned kids inside. It was a shock to everyone…"…Crystal! …Charles, Erik…Alex…god…what… what happened to you all? The chaos is… the news isn't covering it well…Is anyone hurt?" She frantically looks them all over, trying to do a visual triage.
*
Charles coughs on hands and knees, wiping at his mouth when he finally sits up in the grass. But he glances up, catching Erik's eye when he's darting his gaze around those present, sympathy and in some way an apology there. It might have only been a memory, but Charles hadn't meant to contribute to it's repetition.
Thankfully Crystal manages to pull Erik back to the here-and-now…and where there are horrors enough to occupy them all as it is. "You only meant to help." Charles says a bit thickly, a hand returning to his head as he tries to reestablish some shred of his usual walls. It at least should stop those in the area from getting any phantom headaches or nausea.
"We're not hurt." Charles replies unsteadily to Moira, assuaging that concern at least.
*
Patting Lockjaw and murmuring an appreciative sound to the big doggy, Alex steps away and looks to Moira when she finds them. He lets his guard fall, and he looks… crestfallen. Dejected. "They killed him, didn't they? The President. And somehow I know this is going to be blamed on us. Somehow… and he was someone I actually had *hope* might finally do right by us. Shit."
*
"We don't know that for sure, Alex," Crystal glances toward the young mutant before brushing a kiss at the corner of Erik's mouth, reassuring. "But there were shots fired," she confirms for Moira. "Erik had another episode. So we hurried back. It wasn't your fault, Erik. All right? We're going to figure out what's causing these episodes and we're going to fix it, and everything will be fine."
Just how much of any of that she believes is less than certain, but she sounds like she believes it. She has to. It's part of being royalty. If you project confidence and security, then the people around you will feel it.
*
Moira will notice the signs of blood having spilt from Erik's mouth, down the side of his chin. However, Charles is right in many regards; Erik is not injured.
He closes his mouth after Crystal kisses him, then turns his eyes toward Alex and Moira, before looking back to Crystal. He smiles at her, before closing his eyes in a long blink.
"We… may have an idea what's caused it," he admits, with a tone that suggests Crystal may not be entirely correct. He turns his eyes toward Charles. «Permission given, my old friend.» The pain of it is too fresh for him to form the detailed words himself.
*
The touch of blood on Erik's mouth is enough to worry her. Moira brings herself immediately next to all of them, especially as Crystal kisses him. That makes her smile weakly, but she doesn't seem to be convinced they are okay. She doesn't push it too much, staring over them all. "You…swear to me no one is injured? No one? We should get you all inside."
*
"The President was still alive when we left.." Charles murmurs, still slumped in the grass. Now that the panicking crowd is finally gone, he's able to relate some of the information that had been tearing through his brain during their retreat from Dallas.
"But only barely. The human torch confronted his attacker, some sort of..energy bolts were fired. I couldn't sense anything from the one responsible. But they changed shape," a drawn look turned towards Crystal at this revelation, "Though they claimed to be Loki of Asgard."
That shared, he returns Erik's look with a nod and a faint grimace. "I had no idea it was related to what happened at the museum.." he says quietly. But then affirms, "But seeing it happen in person, it's fairly clear that's what it was."
Charles turns his attention to address the rest of the little group, explaining, "Erik had been experimenting with an offshoot of the Cerebro research.. a shielding device of sorts. But it's had a disruptive effect on his mind that we've yet to fully evaluate."
*
Alex is grim: the President might have been still alive, but he doesn't have much hope of him staying that way. But otherwise he goes quiet for the time being.
*
"A shielding-" Crystal stops herself, working through all the implications. Everything it could mean. Everything it could mean to her, to a people under the rule of a king who uses mind control with no apology. She can't chide them for working on it. She would have joined in the efforts if she'd known.
Instead, she draws a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Well, obviously you have a few kinks you still need to work out." It's only then that the rest of Charles' summary sinks in, her brows rising. "Impersonating Loki. That is…far more clever than I like my enemies to be. And Asgard is proud, and not much for thinking of consequences." She grimaces, looking back to the house. "I think I'm going to need to call Director Carter."
*
Changed shape. Erik's brow creases with concern; the very fact that Raven comes to his mind is most concerning. It's a subtle distraction from Charles' exposition, and in a twisted way, a relief. Proof that he's not solely responsible for what happened today.
He is, though, in part responsible. He believes that.
"Clearly," he tells Crystal, with no shortage of bitterness. Then, he rises slowly to his feet, shuddering a bit. "It's quite cold," he says, nodding toward Moira. "I could use some tea, and we should keep our ears to the radio."
*
Moira looks Erik over for a long moment, especially as he says he could use tea. "Erik. Wait. Let me see." And, unless he pushes her away, she reaches up for his chin and draws his eyes to her. She evaluates his eyes, but seems content that she sees no blown pupils. "It doesn't seem your bleeding in your brain. Just…hopefully overload. But if the headache gets any worse or your vision blurs, you tell me." She gives his shoulder a gentle but firm squeeze. Caring. She does care about him, not in the way Crystal does, but in a long, old friendship way.
Then she's pulling back and quickly limping to Charles' side. He's given a long look as well, a bit more worried as she realizes how clammy his skin is. "Charles…darling. Come… inside. Tea would be good for you. For all of us. Here…" If he allows, she gingerly wraps her free arm around his waist, pulling him a bit closer so they could limp into the house together. Alex is give a brief look too and just a slight shake of her head. It's not good. The radios are reporting things that aren't good. But she just tries to usher them all inside.
*
"Oh god.." Charles mutters, massaging his head at Crystal's comment. "Let me get changed while you do that, Crystal."
This is not at all the situation in which he'd hoped to take Crystal up on her suggestion they meet again with SHIELD… but if Carter is reachable, then they need to talk to her. The importance of sharing what Crystal knows of the Skrulls with someone who might be able to head off the catastrophe a potential war with Asgard could represent is indisputable. And right now SHIELD at least has expressed the pretense of respecting their circumstances.
Determined if still somewhat shaky, Charles gets to his feet as well, just in time to wrap an arm around Moira in turn and muster a small smile. "Yes, it's considerably chillier here at home after all; let's get inside."
The group of them head for the mansion doors, though his shields still a mess, Charles can't help but catch Erik's concern. «It wasn't Raven..If it were her, I would have known.» he sends to Erik, having to believe that is true. «And even if we can't undo the mistakes of the past, we can see them corrected for the future. We'll get to the bottom of this.» there's a slight hesitation, and: «Sooner preferably to later; I don't want to leave you without your powers any longer than absolutely necessary.»
*
When she looks to Alex, Alex shakes his head slowly, "I'm fine, I wasn't nearby when the attack or Magneto's… episode happened." he covers, but he follows along, "While you tend to Magneto I'll go get in front of a TV and monitor the news and keep us up to date as information unfolds."
*
"I didn't mean-" Crystal reaches for Erik's hand at his response, apologetic. "I'm sorry. This is all just about to be a very big mess," she says wearily, ready to follow the others inside. "Blackagar doesn't want to tell the humans about us, but with this, with…I can't stay silent and watch this world tear itself apart to keep Attilan quiet under the rule of a madman. Who, by the way, is also apparently back to looking for all of us," she adds, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Someone has to translate between these parties."
*
Erik nods his assent to Moira, doing nothing to prevent her from examining him.
As they walk, he answers Charles' telepathic message with an appreciative look. «It does feel as if, well, naked. And not the good kind of naked.» With that, a bit of a smirk comes through; a sign that in spite of his shock, Erik is still largely himself.
Once inside, Erik reaches for Crystal's hand. "It's alright," he tells her. "I only wanted to keep Jean out. She's… compulsive, and I'm afraid of what might happen if she were to look too deeply." With regard to politics, SHIELD, Asgard, and Attilan, however, his expression spoils. In regard to politics, he's not too hopeful.
*
"…it is a mess. And the country is already scared. They are looking for anyone not… Human. Not American… to blame it on. And the news…" Moira hesitates, not certain that she wants to tell them, but they'll all know shortly. "…the news is calling it. Or was… but the news is reactionary. Maybe it's not true." The tone in the woman's voice doesn't sound hopeful, and she is a doctor. She squeezes Charles' waist gently, turning her head to press a brief, quiet kiss against his cheek. She doesn't care who sees at this point.
Then she's gently trying to guide them all inside. Towards the living area, but she hesitates, as it's filled with scared kids, and nods them back towards one of the studies. There's a quieter space, a couch and a radio there. "Somewhere…quieter. You'll be overrun with questions right now. There are other teachers, at the moment. Let yourselves recover. Both of you. The students don't need to see you like this." Moira states that rather firmly to both Erik and Charles. Alex is tossed a thankful, quiet look. She trusts him with the kids and a calm head. He doesn't look like he was hit by a truck.
As they get into the quieter room, she nods both of the men into one of the comfortable chairs. "Sit…relax. If I don't find you both relaxing, I'll pull a blood pressure cuff down here and prove to you why you need. Alex will bring us the updates… or the radio. I'll put on tea. Just… relax, alright?" She was worried, half worried sick, but Moira was fairly good in a crisis. Both of them were in crisis right now.
*
"Thank you Alex, that would be excellent." Charles agrees, in regards to that intention of monitoring the news. He still looks rather haggard, but with an effort of will, some of his usual crispness has returned to his tone. "And Crystal, I'd like to hear more about where you learnt that when we have another moment." the decorum is rather spoiled however when he abruptly chokes on a laugh, giving Erik a rueful shake of the head. Even if the serious topics dampen the levity a moment later, it was a nice counterpoint, and helps him regain some mental balance. Whatever comes next, they're going to need to take part, keep move forward. It's possible that the buzz of his resolve bleeds over a bit to those nearby as things are.
"Sitting sounds lovely, but I really do need to clean up." he says ruefully, squeezing Moira but not returning the kiss considering. He doesn't at all want the students to see him like this, scuffed from skidding on pavement and having just been ill. "I'll be back down shortly." and with that he peels off from the group to head upstairs.
*
With a quick wave, Alex is off to go monitor the news and keep order and peace to the Institute.
*
"Jean needs to-" Crystal cuts herself off before she finishes that statement, scrubbing a hand over her face with a sigh. "It's a useful tool, regardless. But unless we're going to mass produce them for everyone in her vicinity, we'd be better served continuing to instill some skill and respect for the minds of others in Jean. Moira's right, though. You need to rest. We'll just…get you some tea."
*
"Moira, I assure you that won't be necessary." Erik looks for a seat, and finds a comfortable couch to settle down in. He listens to the voiced concerns with a tired expression, and reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose carefully.
"Charles." Erik looks to his friend before he can depart. "Thank you."
Crystal's words draw his attention next. He shakes his head a bit, telling her, "This isn't the type of thing that can be mass produced. It involves some extremely rare metals. I'm simply worried about what might happen if someone were to take control of my mind with ill intent." He pauses a moment, biting and chewing on his lower lip for a moment.
"As I find myself coming to understand my abilities more, I've begun to realize something. These… manipulations I do. They aren't small. I can move a pin with the same effort I might exert to, say, redirect an airplane, twenty thousand feet above." He pauses, frowning. "I'm not entirely sure that my ability has a limit."
*
"Charles, I am not letting you go off alone in this state. Forgive me…I think you both can handle tea. Or, you, at least, Crystal…" Moira echoes to the woman, and then she's leaning on her crutch again so she can follow Charles out of the room. "Get the tea. Take care…of yourselves. Of each other." The care between the two wasn't hidden any more, so Moira didn't pretend to not know. She just gave them a levelled look and then turns to slip out of the room a moment after Charles does. She has her own quiet partner to take care of.
*
"Erik." Crystal moves over to the couch, slipping down the side of the arm until she can slide his head onto her lap, smoothing her fingers through his hair. "When I was a child, I helped relocate Attilan. Lifted it, bedrock and all, from where it had been in order to move it in its entirety to its current location. Power is nothing to be afraid of. If you fear it, you'll bring your very fears to life."
*
Erik doesn't pause in laying his head on Crystal's lap, which speaks of the trust he's developed for her. He listens to what she says, and closes his eyes, finally finding a shred of peace. "It's not the power I am afraid of, Crystalia," he tells her. "It's…"
A long pause is joined by a troubled expression. "… what I might choose to do with it."
*
"Being afraid of yourself is even less useful," Crystal smiles ruefully down at him, smoothing a thumb over the lines that furrow across his skin. "But it's good that you recognize it. I have faith in you, Erik. I believe in you. You know in your heart what the right thing to do is. Your temper may sometimes flare, but you know what's right."
Her fingers stroke through his hair as she leans against the back of the couch, pensive. "And your daughter thinks you hung the moon," she adds softly. "One more reason to be the man you know you should be."
*
At talk of his temper, Erik smirks. "It is ferocious, isn't it?" he tells her. "Had I been older, I could have stopped the Holocaust, singlehandedly." He pauses then, a whimsical expression turning troubled. "To do so would have required many men to die. I could have wiped out Hitler's army, killing thousands. How many millions might I have saved to do that?" he asks, turning his eyes upon her again. "At which point is such terror justified?"
He knows what his daughter thinks of him. He's certainly made an impression. What impression would he make, however, if he drank the bloodlust he maintains for his mother's murderer?
*
"Those are the questions any leader must ask," Crystal says softly. She knows well the choices a ruler might have to make. "At what cost. And the cost isn't just in lives. Sometimes the cost is in the souls of the living. In the lives they can lead when it's over. I don't know how it all happened. At what point a demonstration would have made a difference. But the problem with hindsight is that no one ever sees it if you succeed. If you'd killed two hundred German soldiers and terrified them into never opening a camp, no one would ever know the lives you'd saved. You would never know. You'd spend your life wondering if you had just traded one life for another. Or if you'd been wrong all along."
*
Erik maintains eye contact with Crystal. An assortment of opinions are visible; contemplations of such high minded topics that could be debated endlessly. He looks away at last, eyes observing the study for a long moment. "Of such things, there seems to be no right or wrong answer. The Allied forces liberated those camps… France… other places during the war, a thing for which I will be ever grateful, but it did not come without a price." He looks back to Crystal. "I wonder of those soldiers, those commanders, are troubled in their sleep?"
Erik closes his eyes. The lines of his face still display the regret and guilt of what's happened; a concern for what might come of his actions. "I had every intention of pushing 'up'. Into the sky, where things wouldn't be so harmful. It wouldn't have taken much." His eyes open. "It would have been uncomfortable for people wear necklaces, earrings, but, only a short, strong burst would be sufficient for redirecting bullets." He turns upward to look at her. "But that would have only redirected them. They might have hit someone else. It would seem, in hindsight, the best option might have been to do nothing." He closes his eyes again. "I can stop bullets, Crystal. I can stop them dead in their tracks, but only when I know where they're coming from. Out there, I… I simply couldn't determine bullet from wristwatch."
*
"At such a distance, Erik…" Crystal shakes her head, falling silent. She has her own doubts. Her own questions about the difference she might have made. But she also has a lifetime of training, not just in powers but in making the difficult decisions of royalty.
"In the time it takes you to react to the sound, it's already happened. A hot enough wall of fire might have melted a bullet. A shield of air could stop it, but air doesn't want to be solid. It takes a moment. A gust of wind has to come from somewhere, to build. A wall of water stops bullets, but to pull it from the air takes the span of a breath - slower than a bullet. Move the earth and everything on it moves, but the bullet keeps coming until it hits something." Which is why her first reaction was to protect themselves.
"Those who attack in stealth will always have the advantage, Erik. Preparations are by necessity limited, while the assassin has every option open to him. What happened to the President was not your fault. Failing to stop it was not your fault. This thing with your powers…" She frowns, catching her lower lip between her teeth. "That, we can work on."
*
She's right, of course. He knows there is no point in arguing potential scenarios. None of them saw the shooter, so none of them had the advantage.
Erik turns slightly, so that he might slip an arm beneath Crystal's legs and hug her in that regard. "That helmet was a failure. I must never use it again."
*
"Failure is part of invention." Crystal shifts her weight, tucking her legs up beneath herself to curl around him a little more. "It's a solid idea. I'm sure it just needs a little refinement. I'll take a look at it with you. It's a pity we can't bring it to Attilan for some of our scientists to look at it, but…Perhaps there are other avenues as well."
She lets her hand slip from his hair, resting on his shoulder instead. "Akihiro came to warn me," she says quietly. "Maximus is in the city. And he's looking for us again."
*
"Tell me again, why we cannot go to Attilan?" Erik looks up at her with the question in his eyes, an expression that becomes rueful. "I'm quite certain I would be on my best behavior."
He shifts upward a bit, pulling himself away for just a moment. This whole lying down thing… no. Once he's upright, he pulls her close to him, arms wrapping around where they need to go. She's troubled, too. No doubt Charles and Moira are working out their troubles this very moment.
"What will happen if Maximus finds us?" he asks her.
*
"Us?" Crystal casts a look up toward him, smile wry. "I regret to inform you, my love, that Maximus thinks humans and mutants are little more than ants crawling on the surface of his world. Inhumans are…a very proud people. Blackagar doesn't think much more of our relationship, to be fair."
She leans her head against his shoulder, ducking her chin to hide her troubled frown. "I don't know, honestly. He's mad, Erik. He's not stable. So just what could happen is a mystery. But it wouldn't be good for us. He might allow me to live. Exile might…I don't know. Though the idea of going back to Attilan when we know Maximus is out here, that is a more appealing one," she laughs low.
*
Ants. Erik's lip curls slightly. "It's been my experience that humans don't take kindly to being thought of as insects." Or rodents, for that matter. "What power does this person have, beyond his madness and…" He takes a moment, searching for the word. "… megalomania?"
*
"He's clever." Crystal wrinkles her nose. "Very clever. People like Hank, like Tony Stark? Imagine if they had been raised in a place whose technology makes this world seem like the dark ages. That is Maximus. But he…he has a way of making people do what he wants, too. It's why I was wary of Charles when I first came here. So smart, able to influence people. King of an advanced society. And utterly mad."
*
Paying close attention, Erik's mind is already spinning. It was always helpful, to plot and plan. It takes his mind off the troubling events of the day.
"Intelligence yields power," he agrees. "But Crystal, what power does he have? What enhanced abilities was he given? Is he telepathic, like Charles? Jean? Can he manipulate the elements, like you?"
*
"He influences people. We thought…we thought it was just the alpha primitives. We thought that might be it. But he hid it," Crystal explains, shaking her head. "And it was more than that. I don't know how it works, I don't know its limits or its details. He knew enough to hide it. He'd seen what Blackagar's power had gotten him, after all. So he was biding his time, thinking he would be king. How could Blackagar? Eventually he'd lose control, and we'd all see sense."
*
"Understanding how it works," Erik explains, "would be the most efficient way to build a defense against him." He runs his hand through her hair, appreciating it in every detail. The contact, the comfort, of being with the woman he's come to love is a more potent medicine than any tea or narcotic.
"Surely there is some record, in a society as advanced as yours, that might explain how he came to be? There is more power in the pages of a book than there is in the artilleries of an army."
*
"That isn't how terrigenesis works," Crystal shakes her head. "It's a gift. And like any gift, it's a surprise. We track bloodlines, we track our genes, so that it's more likely to have a favorable outcome. Wherein 'favorable outcome' means a minimum of physical mutation with maximum, controllable power potential. And we still lose people, Erik. Almost every round, someone doesn't survive, or comes out changed in such a way that…that they doubt they should."
*
"Like Lockjaw." Erik's forehead creases, finding both the entire process perhaps questionable in its risk factor, and the inability to properly document results. "I suppose the phenomena of genetic mutation is similar in many ways, save that we cannot yet control or trigger it."
He turns away for a moment, looking toward a table lamp on the other side of the room. With mere thought, he could pull the metal chain with a focused magnetic pulse, dimming the room, but nothing happens.
He turns his head to kiss Crystal's chin. "Does it bother you, not having Blackagar's blessing?"
*
"Yes," Crystal confesses, wrapping her arm over his. "He is my cousin and my king. And while I do this for him, for our people, I can't help but wonder if I'm fooling myself, thinking that I'm any different from Maximus if I gather an army of foreign allies and storm in to claim things back. But we can't keep waiting," she sighs, tucking her cheek against his shoulder. "The world will pass us by, Maximus will move first, and he'll be so entrenched that we'll never see home again. And that's the best case scenario. That's assuming he limits his ambitions to Attilan and not the rest of the world."
*
Pulling Crystal a bit closer, Erik trusts, would not be a selfish endeavor. "Indeed," he answers, agreeing with her that such an act wouldn't make her too terribly different from Maximus. "And yet, a part of you would wish to simply walk away from it all. To live a normal life, the way you would have it. Not guided by the demands of a society."
In a way, Crystal's plight is not unlike those of today's women. As a European, he has admittedly struggled to understand America's mannerisms toward the female gender.
"I'd be willing to meet him, if it might help." He smirks. "I'd even find a nice cape to wear, but I draw the line at tights."
*
"I can't walk away from it. I thought…" Crystal looks back up at him, searching his gaze. "When everything ended with Thor, I had this moment, this feeling of such freedom. For just a moment, for just a night, I thought maybe I could be free. Maybe I could let all of it go, just be you and me, take care of the school here. Be content with a small victory, with the simple joys of a simple life."
She reaches a hand for his cheek again, a faint smile touching one corner of her lips. "But I can't. I'm a princess, Erik. Royalty. And that means something. It means I have a unique set of skills. One that's needed. And more than that, Erik, I need to do those things. I need to stand up, to make a difference. Doing nothing would…leave me unbearably bored."
*
"And I am a Polish Jew, once thought of by the Germans as trash." He smirks ruefully at that. "Only to become a mutant, a second class citizen to this American people." His smirk grows into a grin, for while they are dark concepts, he knows who he is and understands his value. It is almost humorous to him.
"My dear." He puts his hand against the one that touches his cheek, then leans forward to kiss her. "You do realize that I am, essentially, a peasant."
A peasant who could rip an entire city to pieces in a few short minutes.
*
"Oh, I very much doubt that." Crystal meets his kiss with a gentle smile, hand slipping to his nape to hold him to it a moment longer. "You are brave, and strong, and bold. Fierce in protecting your people. You may not have a crown, Erik, but you are a king in your own right. All kingdoms must raise someone from nothing before they can begin."
She traces a thumb across his cheek, memorizing the planes and contours of his features. "I don't care what my family says, Erik. I know…I know you've lost people. More than your share. But no one is ever going to take me from you."
*
Fascinating. A Kingdom of mutants. Given his history with a dictatorship, the idea isn't entirely appealing, and yet, this whole democracy thing isn't playing out well for his people.
"Well, then." He looks deeply into her eyes, not doing a damn thing to disguise his intent. "I think I would very much like to see you in our chambers."
*
Crystal laughs, arms snaking around his neck. "Why, Erik, I do believe you may be on your road to recovery. I'll have to give you a full, thorough inspection."