Archive of Our Own

Pietro was a bright spark of joy in Erik’s contrastingly tumultuous life. Everything had changed for the better the moment his little boy was born. Erik willingly left his vengeful life behind so he could raise his son in peace.

Pietro was unique and very unlike Erik. He smiled a lot and everything he touched didn’t get subjected to destruction. But despite being unlike Erik, he was also like his father in a very noticeable way— Pietro could also control metal.

Despite all of Erik’s wishes that his son wouldn’t inherit his abilities, the boy did. For as long as Erik could remember, he had thought of his powers as a curse, a heavy burden that brought only anger and destruction. But his son came along and proved him otherwise.

Pietro played with metal in his fingers without fear— without any horrendous memories that haunted Erik every second of his life— without any knowledge that what he had was something destructive.

Pietro always smiled, his laughter would always echo in the air, as he proudly levitated a small toy made of metal with his hands. ’Look, I’m you!’

While Erik associated his powers with rage, Pietro embraced his powers with wonder and delight. It was a stark contrast to Erik’s own existence. He had never known that something so deadly could bring so much joy to his son’s life.

Pietro loved his powers— he even loved his dad’s powers a lot more as he always said, ‘No one could beat dad! My dad’s the best!’

Erik loved his son. He was everything Erik wasn’t. He was all Erik had.

Erik sat in the shadows of the dimly lit study room, the pale light casting a faint hue over his face as he wrestled with his inner turmoil. His powers surged with every flicker of anger, desperate to enact his revenge.

But instead of letting it all out, he used it to move the metallic piece of chess.

“Are you feeling alright?” Charles Xavier sat across him, his hand on his chin, as he contemplated which piece to move next.

“For the moment, I’d say I am.”

Charles looked at him then, worry visible on his face.

“You don’t have to play therapist with me.”

“Consider me as your friend. What’s the matter?’

Erik confided in him then— how dangerous Shaw was. He wondered, even after all their training, would they be enough to defeat him? He couldn’t bear seeing these kids die because of Shaw again.

Erik’s had enough losses. He lost his parents, all because he couldn’t lift a single coin. He lost his childhood– forced to spend years being experimented on in a lab. He lost his innocence the moment he decided to devote his life to revenge. He lost—

Erik spoke, “I used to wonder if there was someone out there like me. Alongside my desperate wishes to execute Shaw, I also searched whether there was someone out there who needed help. And maybe I’d get to learn how to manage my own powers if I learned how to help them.”

Charles merely stared at Erik as the latter laid out his life in front of him.

“I realized I already did.” When Erik looked up from the chess piece, his eyes were glistening from the unshed tears that slowly slid down his cheeks.

“My son.” Erik smiled, not at Charles, but at the unknown– possibly at an imaginary image of his son constructed by his head. He continued, “he already taught me that my powers do not always equate to destruction.”

Erik remembered the little boy who clung to him every time he went back home. The boy who hugged his neck and kissed his cheek endlessly. The boy who was always eager to listen to his stories before bedtime. The boy who’d crawl to his bed whenever he got scared. The boy who taught him, little by little, that his powers didn’t always have to feel like a curse.

That same boy who had been consumed by flames.

Pietro took Erik’s remaining light away with him when he left the world.

The wistful smile on Erik’s face slowly contorted into a pained frown. He then said, “his name was Pietro. He’s dead.”

Nina emerged into Erik’s life as a radiant light, illuminating his otherwise dark path ahead. He held her in his arms, her head gently nestled against his chest. He recalled the warmth that emanated from her tiny body as he lulled her to sleep.

Nina was another miracle Erik never thought he’d be lucky enough to have again. Yet here she was, transforming his ordinary days into adventures filled with love and hope. With her tiny hands, she held his; and filled his heart with an indescribable warmth.

Erik would do right by Nina. He would protect her until the end of time.

That had been the path Erik had envisioned, but it was not what fate had in store when an arrow plunged into his little girl’s heart.

Time itself seemed to freeze, capturing the moment when his dreams and hope shattered, leaving nothing but the sharp, lingering sting of a familiar feeling— grief.

Erik held Nina in his arms but unlike before, she radiated no warmth. Her body swayed limply and she wouldn't be able to return her father’s hug ever again.

A flicker of what should have been the past laid itself right in front of Erik. He noticed something he hadn’t before.

While Nina’s eyes sparkled like shards of the blue sky, it was a striking contrast compared to the deep dark eyes that resembled an abyss that belonged to her older brother— that also belonged to the man standing in front of Erik right now, as he was actively trying to end the world, aiding Apocalypse.

Erik had seen this boy before, 10 years ago, his entire personality resonated purely of chaos and mischief. But now, he just looked scared and doubtful.

Erik could feel tears fill his eyes. His son would have been a grown man now, wouldn’t he? He would have loved Nina. Nina would have loved him too.

But something… an invisible thorn pricked his heart as he looked back to the troubled man in front of him. It was as if the boy wanted to tell him something.

So he waited. Despite his heart pounding hardly in his chest and desperately expecting to hear what he wanted to hear…

”I’m here for my family too.”

Truly, Erik was meant to be alone in this lifetime.

There was a ruckus on the connecting train. The ground was vibrating and it felt like the train was steering dangerously.

Erik couldn’t mistake it— and surely, the others wouldn’t too— but the sounds felt like metals screeching and getting torn off violently. Their body lurched forward and they could have gotten thrown off to the other side if it weren’t for the binds keeping them in place. Alas, there was an inhibitor around their necks too, which rendered their powers useless.

All they could do was wait despite the many questions in their heads, who was behind that door?

The door didn’t open. It got detached from its hinge and got thrown far far away. Then a boy, clad in a torn and bloody hospital gown, walked into where they were all bound.

“Peter?” One of Charles’ X-Men said. Erik remembered the boy as the one who broke him out of the pentagon— as the boy who got broken by Apocalypse in front of Erik. He wasn’t a boy anymore but a grown man. He never knew of his name until now.

Peter walked forward, with his good leg dragging his other improperly bent leg. His shaky hand reached for any surface he could hold onto to prevent himself from falling.

Unfortunately, a set of armed men appeared on the other side of the train. The armed men all looked baffled when what seemed to be a ‘danger’ happened to be a frail boy leaning heavily on the wall for support with a broken leg.

“He’s also like them! Who knows what he can do? Seize him!” A man, probably their leader, ordered and they all advanced forward.

But a certain raise of a hand from the silver-haired boy propelled them all backward. Then they started shooting but all the bullets stopped mid air just a few inches away from the boy.

The X-Men were all wide-eyed, surprised that there was another living metal bender aside from Erik. Even Erik himself was surprised because he thought that the boy’s power was speed. But he could see that the boy was struggling to keep the bullets from reaching him. And that was all it took for the men to charge directly at him.

Erik could see Storm at his periphery flailing from her seat and wanting to help her friend. “Leave him alone!” She shouted. But aside from that, they were all useless.

Peter closed his hand into a fist, and all the men shouted in pain as they collapsed. To the one man that didn’t get affected, he lunged at Peter and knocked him down. This time, it was Peter who shouted in pain.

Erik pulled on the cuffs so hard it could lacerate his wrist. His own mind was screaming at him: ’Stand up! Save the boy!’

The man who was above Peter held a random pipe and brought it down and they all heard the thud as it hit something— Peter. Peter let out a strangled cry but the man struck him down again.

But for the third time he held the pipe up, it stopped and it wrapped around his wrist instead and slowly crushed it. The man yelled in pain before getting thrown out of the window.

It took a while for Peter to stand up but he eventually did. This time, his left eye was closed and his head was bleeding.

Erik’s heart dropped at the sight as he stared at the boy who was limping forward. He could feel tears sting in his eyes; and his wrists were already getting bruised by the force he was exerting to get out of the binds. His eyes couldn’t leave the boy. There was an unexplained discomfort in his chest that wanted to materialize by taking the boy away from here and shielding him from harm.

Peter’s broken leg could only take him so far before he fell flat on the floor. But that didn’t stop him from moving forward.

Erik eyebrows furrowed in curiosity, where was he going?

Peter passed by the X-Men, his friends. Didn’t even glance at any of them despite them calling his name. When Peter finally stopped, it was in front of Erik. He slowly pulled himself on his knees and leaned his head on the chair just beside Erik’s knee.

Erik looked around, to have some sort of understanding as to why the boy was here when he could have broken free his friends. But they all looked confused as much as Erik did… except for Storm, who had a softer look on her face.

When Peter finally looked up Erik, Erik was once again faced with the darkest orbs resembling the shade of the night that made him tear up a decade ago while he was actively ending the world due to Apocalypse’s order. It was his son’s eyes he inherited from his mother.

Peter shakily raised his hand up and Erik could feel the metallic inhibitor moving, getting distorted, and finally breaking.

Peter’s head immediately collapsed back down on the chair as he breathed heavily.

With the surge of power coursing back through Erik, he was able to break the cuffs around his own wrists. He knelt down and took the boy's face in his hands. His eye was half-lidded and the other one was closed. There were dried and fresh blood staining his head and he was breathing heavily.

Erik didn’t want to hope. He had a hunch a decade ago but he immediately buried it. With everyone he loved being taken away from him, he thought it was impossible.

But still.

“Pietro?”

There was a hitch in Peter’s breath before he slowly looked up at Erik. In between heavy breaths, he whispered, ”dad?”

It felt like a dream.

Erik was holding his son in his hands. He was alive. His little Pietro didn’t die in a fire like he thought. He was alive and breathing.

Panic easily crept up and Erik suddenly felt so vulnerable because he had something to lose again. And he will lose him, his son, if they don’t get out of their situation soon.

Pietro did his part. He broke Erik’s bonds, which reactivated his powers. It was now Erik’s turn to get them out of the situation.

Erik immediately pulled Pietro into his chest and encased him protectively with his arms. He pressed a kiss on top of his son’s head and just… stayed there.

Erik couldn’t suppress the tears anymore so he let it all out while embracing Pietro. Pietro didn’t budge and the only thing that consoled Erik that Pietro was alive was his ragged breathing.

He couldn’t– He wouldn’t lose his little boy. Not again. Not ever.

Fight eventually ensued and with Erik's help, everyone got out of their binds. It was hard fighting, especially when Erik had to distance himself away from his son to protect him. They were still on the moving train, and Erik killed as many men as he could.

Erik was bending a piece of metal around a man’s neck when his other hand suddenly flew to a different direction, effectively stopping the bullet that was about to pierce itself through his son’s heart. Even Erik, himself, was amazed by how quickly he sensed and reacted to the danger nearing his son. He sent the bullet back to its owner before running toward Pietro.

Pietro had lost consciousness and the bleeding hadn’t stopped yet. Erik had to get him out.

But before Erik could think of something to get the both of them out, there was a protective bubble that encased them. It escorted them out of the train and into safety.

As chaos ensued, Erik merely held Pietro in his arms and didn’t let go. Not even once.

Erik watched as Jean Grey, Charles’ daughter, launched herself upward and took the threat with her. The stars themselves seemed to shudder as their forms rose higher and higher.

There was no scream, no cry. Just silence and light.

A brilliant explosion tore across the sky, a final, blinding burst of the Phoenix fire. When it faded, there was no one there anymore. Jean was gone.

Erik watched as the X-Men mourned. Some of them cried. But they all looked after each other. They looked at Erik then. Maybe not Erik. Maybe, they were looking at Pietro– he was part of the X-Men after all, unlike Erik.

Erik felt a lump in his throat. Were they all waiting for Erik to give Pietro back into their care? He tilted his son’s chin up so he could examine his face carefully. He looked peaceful. Bloody, battered and broken but still peacefully sleeping in his father’s embrace.

Erik should let them take care of Pietro. They would be able to do it excellently. They had Hank with them. Pietro didn’t deserve to be with Erik. Erik knew nothing but be the source of destruction and death to the people he loves.

Erik gently stroked his son’s cheek and pecked his forehead. He stood up and properly carried his son in his arms…

Erik then flew up in the air and never went back.

Weeks passed.

Erik walked toward a familiar figure, one who undoubtedly felt his presence already. His serene face is a stark contrast to the telepath’s wary one.

“Erik.”

“Charles.”

Then there was silence. But the silence wasn’t empty. With it comes a thousand words desperate to break free. Erik remained as calm as ever while Charles looked uneasy.

“You disappeared without a trace.”

“I did,” Erik said with a nod.

Charles was certain he and Erik didn’t part on good terms. But Erik was here now, looking at him so peacefully to the point it almost looked like he was smiling.

“They said you took Peter with you.”

The tranquility that resided in Erik’s features broke for a bit when his eyes widened but it was replaced in an instant by the same smile he wore earlier. Only this time, it looked more fond.

“I did.”

Charles looked skeptical. “I won’t go in your head, Erik. If you have something to say, you’ll have to say it.”

When Erik merely smiled like an idiot, Charles sighed. “What are you doing here, Erik?”

“Came to see an old friend. Fancy a game?”

“No, not today, thank you.”

When Charles seemed so done with Erik’s antics, Erik leaned forward and finally said the truth: “Peter is my son.”

Charles blinked once—slow, uncertain—then his eyes grew wide. His gaze locked on Erik, unmoving, every inch of his face etched with disbelief. “Peter is…?”

“He’s Pietro. He’s the one I thought died in a fire. Do you remember?”

It was then that Charles smiled in relief. “I never would have guessed. But it’s a nice surprise, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“How is he doing?”

“He’s healing. He’s quite the charmer. Within his first week, he’d already won everyone’s hearts and earned their trust without even trying.”

“That’s the Peter I know. Very unlike his father, if I must say.”

Both of them laughed at the remark.

“Would you like to visit him?” Erik asked as laughter died down his throat before looking at his friend expectantly.

Charles looked away and shifted in his chair. “I would love to. But not today. Maybe some other time.”

Silence settled over them, thick and heavy, as the tension quietly grew once more. Charles was still mourning the loss of his daughter and sister. Nothing came easy for him these days.

Eventually, Erik spoke. “A long time ago, you saved my life. Then you offered me a home.” He had wanted to say this the very moment he sat in front of Charles, “I’d like to do the same for you.”

Erik’s eyes held a steady and earnest gaze. “Besides, Pietro would be glad to have his favorite professor back.”

Charles huffed at the comment.

Erik took something from his pocket and held both his fists up in front of Charles. “Just one game. For old time’s sake.”

Charles then tapped Erik’s left hand and it revealed a white pawn.

“I’ll go easy on you,” said Erik.

“No, you won’t.”