His lower lip puffed out.

"Beep beep." He half-heartedly mimed honking a car horn.

"That concern fills the tank, does it?" Magnus was no fool, he knew what Charles was playing at; and he wasn't keen on entertaining that game today.

"They choose it. Being free. No one driving anywhere."

"It's most certainly what the bruised egos turned away from your school believe."

Erik hated the way Charles framed their separation as his doing. As if it were a choice and not a necessity born of inconsolable ideologies.

"Do you feel threatened by them being given a place to thrive instead?"

The name had his mouth feeling dry.

"I simply aim to take in those of us that you reject, Charles. I'll be out of your... Metaphorical hair soon enough."

"If you'd like to suspect me of something, I should hope you'd do it bluntly."

"Excellent." Fingers curled as the word rode out on a pleased rumble.

"Today is the day you stop holding yourself back. I look forward to discovering what you're capable of, Dead-Pool." The enunciation separated dead and pool.

"Then perhaps it may be time for you to start looking down." Magneto's eyebrows rose as his chin dipped.

"It is your birthright to use the power you were gifted as you see fit." A flattened palm pointed toward the sky.

"Join me, and it will always be your choice. As it is meant to be."

"Magnificent, truly." The leader's gaze lingered on the mended flesh. He held an air of pride, returning the metal to its place on his person.

"The power that you possess is one to be exalted, and yet, all you've known for it is scorn." The helmet swiveled to each side in a slow shake of his head.

Magneto called the bits of scrap back to him and morphed them back together in his palm.

A point formed on the end of the rod he rolled. This time, he threw it with his arm, aiming for Deadpool’s shoulder pad.

A patient brow rose until Deadpool finally got with the program.

The metal plating of his glove rose into the air and reformed into a simple jagged shape. A flick of his wrist projected it toward bright red.

"Tell me," There's a pregnant pause, allowing Magneto the time to size up the costumed mutant before him.

"What is it exactly that you do."

muttered from just a breath away.

The thundering stutter of his pulse caused him to shift about in his waning sleep.

"You know that, love." The wet smile he gave began to dissipate just before the rest of him.

Magneto rose from his sweat-soaked pillow. Shaking hands put his helmet back in place.

setting around them to lose integrity. Only he and the image of Charles remain.

He felt an air of hope here. One that he had long since lost in the waking world.

It was so easy to lean forward. To tilt Charles' chin up toward him.

"This is all that's left for me." The words don't match the tone,

Emotion mounted upon the crests of his lower lids. Threatened to dampen the lashes.

He wanted. Oh, how he yearned for a simpler life. One free from this anguish and strife.

A twisting pain that was not his own clenched his heart. The tears finally fell.

Juxtaposed feelings that conflict cause the

and denim.

"I'll never be what you could accept." A mournful caress brushed over Charles' crown, palm settled against his jaw, fingers curled into his nape.

"Your path is not mine to walk. I'm no pacifist. I will not shy away in the face of what must be done. That is what divides us, my friend."

The brilliant, collective glow of candles that lined the room illuminate a cozy space, hardly big enough for two. Erik didn't recognize it.

"Tempting as you make it... We both know there's at least one reason." Plated gloves faded first as his hand rose. The rest of the costume traded for cashmere

The touch stirred something deep. Unforgotten. Emotion kicked up like sand.

Home....

The world began to shift, blurring at the edges. A new scene was painted fresh in just a few short strokes of a massive brush.

In leui of the horror he was trapped in moments prior, the atmosphere was now quaint.

us, and yet the very moment my mind became vulnerable, you found a way to wriggle yourself in."

He was amused. Annoyed. Aglow. Agonized.

"Tell me, Charles. Is that not suffocating?" The one thing he wasn't, was angry.

He marveled at the image of his dearest foe and most rivaled companion. For some reason, the title of 'my' did not bring him offense, but instead gratitude. Relief.

He accepted the hand. Pulled himself up and ever closer to that devastating smile.

"Yes. And here we are now. Tens of miles separate