It was Tony who got her in to see Magneto -- albeit, reluctantly. He was being held in a mysterious federal installation, not a SHIELD facility at all. ( Jean and the proverbial undisclosed location. . . )
Erik looked up as his guard, Agent Fielding, walked into his cell. Fielding walked with perfect posture. Erik perversely wanted the man to slouch.
He also hated the sudden rush of excitement he felt at the prospect of talking to someone who wasn't his blue-eyed, utterly polite prison guard. Fielding was not the world's best conversationalist, and Erik was beginning to suspect they were denying him intelligent conversation as a way to break his will. He also hated to admit it might be working.
"Do I? How remarkable. I didn't think that was possible." Erik stood and turned away, hating the sight of Fielding and his impeccably-shined black boots. "Who is it?"
Erik thought of a snide response--do you think I can stop you?--but he did not give it voice. Instead, he appreciated the simple kindness she offered him with a gracious nod and said, "Of course. You may have the chair, if you wish. They are very fond of the minimalist style, it would seem."
Erik did not attempt a smile. Jean Grey was a smart woman, and would know he didn't mean it. "I'm surprised to see you," he said honestly. "Of all the people I thought may visit me in prison, I admit your name never quite made my list."
Jean's smile felt false as she took a step closer into the cell. She kept ringing her hands behind her back.
He looked like hell. An old man, a tired unwashed old man, sitting there on the bed. As much as she hated what the man stood for, it didn't seem fair, it didn't seem right. After everything he had been through, Erik Lehnsherr deserved some dignity.
But that wasn't for her to say. It wasn't in her power to give. And so she simply did her best to answer his implied question. Why you?"It seemed to me," Jean explained, "like the thing that Charles would have done, if he were, you know --" Her eyes turned upward. " -- on the planet right now. He does have an annoying tendency to be in space when we need him. Charles," she added, as though there were any ambiguity in what she had said
( ... )
Erik's mouth twitched at that. "Yes, well, they are aware of my fondness for women half my age, I suppose." That made him think of Anna, but he did not outwardly flinch. Thoughts of Anna were for the darkness, when he was alone.
"Charles would visit, you are right about that. And he would not come to gloat in my apparent capture, just as I do not think you have come to do that, either. Still, I am curious as to why you wished to see me." His gaze was assessing and sharp. "You're not here to free me, I see the power dampener on your arm. Perhaps they've sent you to try and make some deal with me, but I doubt that. They would not deny the public the spectacle my trial will surely be." Erik snorted. "What will this be, the third, the fourth? I've lost track."
"I wouldn't know about the trials," Jean said, honestly. "I was usually dead."
She didn't answer the allusion to Rogue; the guards had made very clear that she wasn't to disturb their lie about his lover's death. Jean had determined that she wouldn't repeat the falsehood, but she would talk around it if she had to.
In any case, something else in his words had struck her. "Your apparent capture?" she repeated, then said gently, almost regretfully, "This looks pretty real to me."
She had to remind herself of the things this man had done; looking him in the eye, it was sometimes hard to do. He had become a cult leader for a reason, Jean reminded herself, and it wasn't because of his powers. There were stronger mutants. She was one of them. She decided not to look him in the eye anymore but found herself, strangely, unable to look away.
"I almost envy you. They were farces, ridiculous media circuses. The best trial of mine was one where I was tried in abstentia. So far, it's been my favorite."
Erik stood up, feeling restless, and something else; the sudden, quick pulse of blood where before it had been sluggish and slow, dulled by the constant routine and the slightly uncomfortable, cool temperature of his cell.
He smiled at her. "Do you think this will hold me, this prison? Do you honestly believe I will be in here until I breathe my last breath on this planet? Hardly. They expect it of me--why, Jean, I wouldn't be surprised if some night my fine young guard threw the door open himself. The human authorities would rather have me alive and active than locked up, withering away. To whom would they point to as an example of so-called dangerous mutants? Certainly not you, or my daughter
( ... )
Jean didn't have any more desire to give the standard political spiel than Magneto wanted to hear it. She was here as herself, not as an X-man. As Charles Xavier's heir, perhaps, but not as his disciple.
This conversation had to be familiar to Magneto, but Jean heard the part that was addressed, particularly, to her. "It's true, isn't it?" she mused. "Not all dangerous mutants are created equal. One of these days Wanda and I might just team up and destroy the world, as a protest against the people who refused to take us seriously." Lifting her head, she spoke to the air, and their listeners, "Before you arrest me for conspiracy, that's a metaphor."
She gave Magneto a little smile, then said casually, "She's in love with me, you know. I don't mean to say exclusively, and I didn't notice until recently. But I think she always has been, a little bit."
"I have always taken you seriously, Jean. Unfortunately, people who fight against me that I take seriously, I consider them a threat. And I am sure our remote listeners won't take that precisely as the compliment I intend it, but they're shortsighted fools." He winked at Jean, and considered what she'd said.
"I would not be opposed to that," he said, speaking of her and Wanda. "My daughter is...unstable. You would be a good influence for her, I imagine." He cocked his head thoughtfully. "Is this what you've come to tell me? Shall I be losing my freedom, and gaining a daughter-in-law?"
Jean's eyes widened in surprise. She hadn't expected such a smooth reaction but. . .well, the man was famous for his charisma.
"No," she said. "No no no. It's not. . . reciprocal, really. No offense. Wanda is. . .very dynamic, but . . ." But she decided not to say that she was seeing someone, especially since it was a someone whose skeleton Magneto had once ripped out of his body. "I guess I'm just wondering in general, how you feel about your children. What you think is, well. . .best for them? You must know that the position you've put them in isn't easy. How do you. . .justify that?"
It's funny. Jean has screamed in Magneto's face, in the course of open combat, and never thought about it twice. This conversation shouldn't be so -- awkward.
"No? That's a shame, I would have been pleased. You seem surprised at my answer. Did you expect me to have problem with the idea of same-sex relationships?" Erik arched a brow. "Could it be Charles never told you...?"
He waved a hand. "That is ancient history, I suppose. And I have always tried to make the world a place where my children never had to suffer what I did as a child." His voice, strong and sure, rang with his usual fervor of conviction.
Suddenly, Erik sat on the bed, running his hand through his hair. He laughed coldly, and his voice was tired, lacking his usual strength. "I was thinking of stopping it all. Did you know that, Jean, can you read that in my mind? I hadn't even told Anna, but I was considering it. I thought perhaps it was time to be a father and repair the damage I have done to my children--because, oh, I know that I have damaged them. And do you see, do you see what happens? As soon as I consider it, I wake up in a cell with a man whose grandfather might have herded me into Auschwitz when I was child,
( ... )
"No." Jean shook her head. "No. Don't use that as an excuse. You're in a jail cell because of your own actions. You know that perfectly well. If you didn't you wouldn't have been thinking about changing. You wouldn't have been able to change course in your life, as many times as you already have. I have to believe there's another side to you -- a wise, peaceful, powerful side -- because Charles saw it there, and Rachel, and --"
She paused, looking at him intently. "You know you were no a dead end path. If you really care about mutants, the people you were claiming to help -- you know that I care, too. There must be something we can work out together."
"I would be willing to try. I have always been willing to try. I have tried, Jean. I have renounced violence and pledged myself to finding other ways, and has it ever worked? Do they ever listen?" He laughed harshly, shaking his head. "You know the answer to that. They have only listened when my speeches were followed with bombs."
Erik regarded her thoughtfully. "I believe that you care. I would work with you, if there was a way to do it that would bring results. I hate that it has always been necessary to kill to get their attention. But the Brotherhood has always been about doing what is necessary, and I have never found tireless political arguments and attempting good public relations to bring anything remotely considering change. Were that to change, tomorrow, I would be the first one to join X-Corp, or even my old friend Xavier's band of merry men."
Jean narrowed her eyes. The power dampener around her wrist began to feel tight and hot.
"They listened didn't they, Erik? They listened well enough to put you here. What did that cost you, I wonder?" Her mouth curled up into a grin that was almost a leer. She wouldn't repeat their lie about Rogue, but it wasn't her fault if he chose to believe it. Besides, his actions could have led her to her death; did he deserve the guilt any less because she had escaped? "Was it worth it do you think? That bit of attention?"
"I know what it cost me," Erik said quietly. "Believe me. I know. I have always known." He stood up and walked to the corner of his tiny cell, placing his hand on the wall of his cell, feeling the hard plastic.
"I will not be in here forever. You know it, and they know it, and my pretty Aryan guard knows it. And when I am free, when I am out, I will do what I should have done all along. I won't fall in love, I won't try and be anything in my children's lives but the embarrassment I am sure they feel I am. But I won't stop trying to keep mutants safe from imprisonment and execution. And that, at the moment, is the only truth that I know."
Erik looked up as his guard, Agent Fielding, walked into his cell. Fielding walked with perfect posture. Erik perversely wanted the man to slouch.
He also hated the sudden rush of excitement he felt at the prospect of talking to someone who wasn't his blue-eyed, utterly polite prison guard. Fielding was not the world's best conversationalist, and Erik was beginning to suspect they were denying him intelligent conversation as a way to break his will. He also hated to admit it might be working.
"Do I? How remarkable. I didn't think that was possible." Erik stood and turned away, hating the sight of Fielding and his impeccably-shined black boots. "Who is it?"
He refused to hope it was Lorna ( ... )
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Erik did not attempt a smile. Jean Grey was a smart woman, and would know he didn't mean it. "I'm surprised to see you," he said honestly. "Of all the people I thought may visit me in prison, I admit your name never quite made my list."
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He looked like hell. An old man, a tired unwashed old man, sitting there on the bed. As much as she hated what the man stood for, it didn't seem fair, it didn't seem right. After everything he had been through, Erik Lehnsherr deserved some dignity.
But that wasn't for her to say. It wasn't in her power to give. And so she simply did her best to answer his implied question. Why you?"It seemed to me," Jean explained, "like the thing that Charles would have done, if he were, you know --" Her eyes turned upward. " -- on the planet right now. He does have an annoying tendency to be in space when we need him. Charles," she added, as though there were any ambiguity in what she had said ( ... )
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"Charles would visit, you are right about that. And he would not come to gloat in my apparent capture, just as I do not think you have come to do that, either. Still, I am curious as to why you wished to see me." His gaze was assessing and sharp. "You're not here to free me, I see the power dampener on your arm. Perhaps they've sent you to try and make some deal with me, but I doubt that. They would not deny the public the spectacle my trial will surely be." Erik snorted. "What will this be, the third, the fourth? I've lost track."
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She didn't answer the allusion to Rogue; the guards had made very clear that she wasn't to disturb their lie about his lover's death. Jean had determined that she wouldn't repeat the falsehood, but she would talk around it if she had to.
In any case, something else in his words had struck her. "Your apparent capture?" she repeated, then said gently, almost regretfully, "This looks pretty real to me."
She had to remind herself of the things this man had done; looking him in the eye, it was sometimes hard to do. He had become a cult leader for a reason, Jean reminded herself, and it wasn't because of his powers. There were stronger mutants. She was one of them. She decided not to look him in the eye anymore but found herself, strangely, unable to look away.
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Erik stood up, feeling restless, and something else; the sudden, quick pulse of blood where before it had been sluggish and slow, dulled by the constant routine and the slightly uncomfortable, cool temperature of his cell.
He smiled at her. "Do you think this will hold me, this prison? Do you honestly believe I will be in here until I breathe my last breath on this planet? Hardly. They expect it of me--why, Jean, I wouldn't be surprised if some night my fine young guard threw the door open himself. The human authorities would rather have me alive and active than locked up, withering away. To whom would they point to as an example of so-called dangerous mutants? Certainly not you, or my daughter ( ... )
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This conversation had to be familiar to Magneto, but Jean heard the part that was addressed, particularly, to her. "It's true, isn't it?" she mused. "Not all dangerous mutants are created equal. One of these days Wanda and I might just team up and destroy the world, as a protest against the people who refused to take us seriously." Lifting her head, she spoke to the air, and their listeners, "Before you arrest me for conspiracy, that's a metaphor."
She gave Magneto a little smile, then said casually, "She's in love with me, you know. I don't mean to say exclusively, and I didn't notice until recently. But I think she always has been, a little bit."
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"I would not be opposed to that," he said, speaking of her and Wanda. "My daughter is...unstable. You would be a good influence for her, I imagine." He cocked his head thoughtfully. "Is this what you've come to tell me? Shall I be losing my freedom, and gaining a daughter-in-law?"
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"No," she said. "No no no. It's not. . . reciprocal, really. No offense. Wanda is. . .very dynamic, but . . ." But she decided not to say that she was seeing someone, especially since it was a someone whose skeleton Magneto had once ripped out of his body. "I guess I'm just wondering in general, how you feel about your children. What you think is, well. . .best for them? You must know that the position you've put them in isn't easy. How do you. . .justify that?"
It's funny. Jean has screamed in Magneto's face, in the course of open combat, and never thought about it twice. This conversation shouldn't be so -- awkward.
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He waved a hand. "That is ancient history, I suppose. And I have always tried to make the world a place where my children never had to suffer what I did as a child." His voice, strong and sure, rang with his usual fervor of conviction.
Suddenly, Erik sat on the bed, running his hand through his hair. He laughed coldly, and his voice was tired, lacking his usual strength. "I was thinking of stopping it all. Did you know that, Jean, can you read that in my mind? I hadn't even told Anna, but I was considering it. I thought perhaps it was time to be a father and repair the damage I have done to my children--because, oh, I know that I have damaged them. And do you see, do you see what happens? As soon as I consider it, I wake up in a cell with a man whose grandfather might have herded me into Auschwitz when I was child, ( ... )
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She paused, looking at him intently. "You know you were no a dead end path. If you really care about mutants, the people you were claiming to help -- you know that I care, too. There must be something we can work out together."
Damned if he wasn't getting to her.
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Erik regarded her thoughtfully. "I believe that you care. I would work with you, if there was a way to do it that would bring results. I hate that it has always been necessary to kill to get their attention. But the Brotherhood has always been about doing what is necessary, and I have never found tireless political arguments and attempting good public relations to bring anything remotely considering change. Were that to change, tomorrow, I would be the first one to join X-Corp, or even my old friend Xavier's band of merry men."
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"They listened didn't they, Erik? They listened well enough to put you here. What did that cost you, I wonder?" Her mouth curled up into a grin that was almost a leer. She wouldn't repeat their lie about Rogue, but it wasn't her fault if he chose to believe it. Besides, his actions could have led her to her death; did he deserve the guilt any less because she had escaped? "Was it worth it do you think? That bit of attention?"
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"I will not be in here forever. You know it, and they know it, and my pretty Aryan guard knows it. And when I am free, when I am out, I will do what I should have done all along. I won't fall in love, I won't try and be anything in my children's lives but the embarrassment I am sure they feel I am. But I won't stop trying to keep mutants safe from imprisonment and execution. And that, at the moment, is the only truth that I know."
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