Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

ERIK

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Disturbing yet again. 

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

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

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

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

The child still hadn’t said a word.

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

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

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

“Peter.” He mumbled back.

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

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

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

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

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

“Why do you wanna know?” He snapped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peter let out a frustrated and tired breath. 

“Don’t patronize me.” 

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

WEEK ONE

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

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

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

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

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

Another day, another try.

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

Erik was not one to give up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

WEEK TWO

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

“You look like crap.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But you guys are married now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Peter-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

      WEEK THREE

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

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

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

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

“Hold up?” Erik asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Side effects?”

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

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

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

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

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

WEEK FOUR

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How so?” He asked Peter.

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

“Peter-”

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

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

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

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

WEEK FIVE

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

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

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

“Why?” Was his only question.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Peter-”

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

“Of course, Peter.” 

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

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

“Me too. What are your favorites?”

And Peter told him.

WEEK SIX

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

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

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

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

They had a new cellmate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No, Erik did not like this man.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah…yeah I will.” Peter nodded. 

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

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

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

  WEEK SEVEN

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No, not simply holding. Strangling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Peter-”

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

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

He was scared. But not of Erik.

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

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

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

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

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

Erik shook his head in disagreement.

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

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

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

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

Erik gave a stronger smile this time. 

“Yes, you will be.”

WEEK EIGHT

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Erik let out another sigh. “Humor me.” 

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

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

Peter looked down at the makeshift chess board.

“I’ll remember…I always do.”

WEEK NINE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Enough time for what?” He whispered back.

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

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

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

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

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

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