Chapter 1
After breaking out of the Pentagon and everything that transpired afterward, Erik never returned to the Brotherhood. Spending all those years in a secluded, padded room had forced him to reflect on many of the choices he had made—especially the ones involving Charles. The guilt of it all lingered, and perhaps it always would.
Seeing Charles again for the first time in years stirred a storm of emotions in Erik. Charles looked so different now—completely unlike the man he once knew—and Erik knew, without a doubt, that the change was his fault. The guilt of hurting Charles physically, of leaving him paralyzed, was unbearable. He had never meant to harm him like that, but pain was all he ever seemed to bring to the people he loved.
His mind kept circling back to their argument on the plane, about Charles using the drug to walk. At the time, Erik hadn’t been thinking clearly, his emotions too raw, too tangled. But now, as he lay on a cheap hotel bed, he wished he could take back his words. He understood now why Charles had taken the drugs.
Even after learning that their older selves had remained friends despite everything, Erik had still walked away—just as he always did. He knew Charles had hoped he would come back in the end, but he hadn't. It had been months since then, and Erik had heard that the school for mutants was up and running. Charles had stopped taking the drugs and had instead embraced his injury. He and Hank were teaching students together. Erik was happy for him. Charles’s dream had finally become a reality.
Leaving the Brotherhood had been surprisingly easier than he expected. For the past few months, Erik had drifted between cheap hotels and abandoned buildings. At first, he had considered leaving the country, but he couldn't bring himself to go. So, he remained in New York, without his helmet—he had destroyed it after everything that happened.
Being locked away in the Pentagon had left him starved for touch, for connection, for someone to talk to. But, of course, he had no one. He didn’t deserve that kind of comfort. If he was honest with himself, he had hoped—just for a moment—that he might still feel Charles in his mind. But who was he kidding? Charles would never reach out to him again.
And yet, Erik knew that even without Charles in his head, there was still a link between them—one forged in the days when they had been close. Even now, Charles could probably sense that Erik was still in New York.