Chapter Text
There were some titles Erik Lehnsherr despised, and there were others he valued.
While prejudice titles such as “mutant terrorist”, “freak”, and “monster” -- which were created by homosapiens -- often supported his judgement of humankind, there were some statues that he considered honorific. He took pride in being called a “mutant advocate”, an “ally”, a “mentor”, a “friend”, a “brother”, and, perhaps the most important one of them all, a “father”.
The more optimistic statuses came from his friends back at the mansion, where he and his best friend, Charles Xavier, have spent the last few weeks training new and old mutants, brothers and sisters. He and Charles acted as mentors to the young and old mutants who were affected by the devastation En Sabah Nur has left during his rising. The newest recruits, like Scott Summers, Doreen Green, and Dallas Gibson, gave him the title “mentor”. Charles, as well as Alex Summers and Hank McCoy -- two men Erik had encountered and mentored long ago -- , now saw Erik as an “ally”, and even “friend”. However, the title he valued with all of his being, and the one that always put the biggest smile on his face, was given to him by a silver-haired speedster with whom, since their first encounter, he has developed a strong and personal bond with. The title “father” was given to him by his one and only son, Peter (or as he now calls himself, Pietro) Django Maximoff.
Yes, Erik Lehnsherr was seen by many as either a hero or an enemy. However, no matter the perspective, Erik still had some standards he had to uphold for both parties. To make his enemies cower in fear, and to make his admirers proud, Erik needed to be poised and dignified at all times. He needed to be balanced, calm, and confident under any circumstances. Erik Lehnsherr needed to appear invulnerable.
However, after hearing an all-too familiar voice echo throughout the depths of En Sabah Nur’s hidden lair below the Gaza Pyramids, everything that he trained himself to be in the eyes of his allies and enemies -- balanced, immune, confident -- vanished instantly.
That voice. That suave, unremorseful, and cruel voice. That voice, after all of these years, continued to send shivers down Erik Lehnsherr’s spine. That voice, which currently bounced off the cave walls, conjured up some of Erik’s darkest memories That voice, which relentlessly mocked and tormented the young boy in Auschwitz so many years ago, unleashed rivers of rage through his body. That voice belonged to a man who has continued to drive Erik’s desire for mutant domination. That voice belonged to the monster who destroyed everything the metal-bender held dear to him -- his identity, his freedom, his dignity, and his mother. That voice belonged to his tormentor, his enemy, his advisor, his creator. That voice belonged to-
“Shaw…” Erik breathed out.
“It’s fantastic to see you, my son!”
“Impossible.”
“Anything is possible, mein haustier.”
“I killed you.”
“I’m afraid not.”
“I killed you!” The self-assurance in Erik’s voice was now waivering. “I drove the coin straight through your skull! I saw the light leave your eyes! You cannot be alive!”
“I can and I am.”
While the tense exchange was transpring, Pietro’s focus was on Erik; more specifically, Erik’s drastic change in attitude. Throughout their time together, Pietro always saw poise in Erik’s eyes. Even when they shared their moments of vulnerability, Erik always had balance and control over the emotions he chose to unveil. Today, however, things were far from normal. All composure and equilibrium, both physical and spiritual, vanished. When Shaw began to circle the duo -- like how a wolf circles its prey, testing the victim’s weakness right before the kill --, Erik’s body went tense, while his eyes reflected how little control he had over his emotions. That’s when it hit him: the bravado Erik has always carried was merely a mask. The mask incomparably hid the scarred and tormented man who was still hurting from the damaged inflicted on him in the past. The mask kept vulnerability at bay.
Witnessing this unfamiliar side of Erik ignited an odd feeling inside Pietro. Although the idea that his father endured incomparable persecution filled Pietro with abhorrence, the silver-haired mutant found comfort in witnessing this substitution of pride and confidence. This hidden side showed how big Erik’s heart is capable of being, and how fragile it can be. This fear Erik finally allowed himself to project made him human.
“So,” the stranger continued while scanning Pietro from top to bottom, “you’re Erik’s son. I’ll be honest, I’m struggling to find any resemblance.” His blue eyes stopped at Pietro’s own dark brown ones. “Although, you do have your grandmother’s eyes.”
“Don’t you dare talk about her,” Erik snapped.
The mask was back in place.
“Who the hell are you?” Pietro asked.
“I’m terribly sorry! I’ve forgotten my manners.” A surprisingly smooth hand was extended towards the younger mutant. “My name is Sebastian Shaw.”
Pietro’s mind suddenly clicked. Flashbacks of his conversation with Erik in April appeared before him. Sebastian Shaw, the man who killed Erik’s own mother right in front of him before torturing and experimenting on the traumatized boy minutes after. It was because of him that Erik became the cold-hearted yet damaged man knew today. Because of Sebastian Shaw, Erik abandoned his own child, forcing him to be fatherless for nearly twenty six years. Pietro used this revelation to more carefully examine the man.
Shaw was a well-groomed brunette, wearing a wine button down shirt with a navy blue jacket. His black suit pants and dress shoes were extremely clean, contrasting the dirt floor beneath them. What really struck Pietro’s attention was the man’s smile...it was a smile he saw plastered on the faces of corrupt politicians, self-righteous police officers, and sadistic doctors like the ones back in Providence. In short: that smile was always seen on the faces of assholes.
Pietro’s soft eyes hardened and he found himself glaring dangerously at Shaw. His facial expression alone said everything Shaw needed to know from now on: I know what you did to Erik and if you hurt him again, you're dead. Despite his glare, Shaw’s behavior did not falter.
“I see Erik has updated you on our… relationship.”
“Damn right he did.”
Shaw snorted. “Did he ever mention my abilities? Did he ever refer to the gifts I possess?”
“...No?”
Shaw made a tsking sound. “Meine Laborratte, I’m very disappointed in you.”
On that remark, Shaw began to make his way to Pietro, his hand extended right towards his head. Realizing Shaw’s intentions, Erik pulled his son protectively behind him. He then summoned all of the metal he could find, save for the contemporary pyramid, and launched it at his enemy. To his surprise, Shaw dodged the incoming element with a flick of the wrist. It shocked Erik; how, after all of these years, how did Shaw possess so much power? He’s grown since their encounter in Cuba, yet the former Nazi remained dominate. Before he could try again, Erik saw his former “creator” touch his son’s forehead, launching the silver-haired mutant into the ancient staircase with a loud smack.
Pietro didn’t know what happened: one moment he was standing behind Erik, and the next he was airborne before smacking into the stairs behind him. As he laid dazed against the blocks of stone, Pietro could still feel that incomprehensible amount of energy that surged throughout his body. It was like being electrocuted. It was only when he felt Erik’s arms loop themselves around his back, pulling him into a sitting position, that Pietro snapped back into the present.
“I possess the ability to absorb all kinds of energy and transform them into raw strength. So, what is your-”
Shaw’s sentence was cut off by a sudden and painful force hit him, causing him to fly into the staircase opposite of the duo. Pietro stood above Shaw, anger clearly written in his eyes.
“I’m able to move faster than the speed of sound.”
Despite the attack, Shaw let out a bark of laughter before standing up, brushing off Pietro’s retaliation as if it were dust. “My oh my, Erik, I can tell this lad is yours. He has your resilience, rage, and charisma.”
There was now a standoff: father and son versus the God and the revenant. The tension, which was fueled by pasts and desires, was more suffocating and poisonous than carbon monoxide. The silence was so prominent that even the softest drop of water falling from the stalagmites echoed throughout the environment. Hell, even the thunderous pounding of Pietro and Erik’s heartbeats could’ve been heard. The silence was broken by a thunderous laugh released by Apocalypse, causing Pietro and Erik to take an unconscious step backwards.
“I value these little moments,” the First One began. “It is rare for me to see a mutant express so much fear.”
“Well, if you didn’t slaughter half of the mutant population, then I’m sure this occasion would become daily.” Pietro shot back.
“Gentlemen, as much as I would love to continue this exchange, I’m afraid that time is running short. Shaw, if you please…”
As soon as those words left Apocalypse’s mouth, Shaw began to approach Erik once again. This time, however, Pietro beat him to it and charged right at the his opponent. He put in all of his weight and heart into this shove, so the shock was obvious when he found himself frozen mid stance. No matter how hard he tried to move, the invisible force prevented him from doing so. Then, a young woman with dark hair mixed with purple streaks, slowly revealed herself.
The hand that wasn’t outstretched at Pietro held a purple katana. The weapon was charged with what Pietro assumed was purple kinetic energy. Her eyes, however, were completely green. Shaw reached behind him, silently beckoning the possessed mutant. Then, when his outstretched hand returned in front of Pietro, it was engulfed in the same purple energy surrounding the purple katana.
“You may be familiar with the functionality of my powers,” Shaw cooly said. “But I don’t think you understand just how far my powers extend.”
Pietro watched as the purple energy in Shaw’s hand shrink into a little ball the size of a ping-pong. “Holy shit,” he breathed out.
And then, with a tap to the forehead, Pietro’s body was consumed in unimaginable quantities of energy, sending him dozens and dozens of feet into the air. Right when his back and head sharply connected with one of the stalagmites, Pietro was swallowed by darkness.
Erik watched in horror as his son was catapulted into the air with a mere touch. His eyes never left Pietro as the mutant smacked into the stalagmites above them, before rolling down the last flight of stairs. Oblivious to Shaw and Apocalypse’s presence, the metal-bender ran towards his motionless son, who laid on his side at the bottom of the staircase.
“Pietro,” Erik called as he slid to his son’s form. “Pietro, can you hear me? Sohn?”
He turned his son onto his back and began to gently shake him. When Pietro didn’t rouse, Erik began to shake him even rougher. The mutant then began to gently tap his son’s checks, occasionally running his hand through the silver locks in the process. It was during the fourth time Erik stroked his son’s hair that he felt a warm, sticky substance coat his palm. Retracting his hand, Erik saw blood. At that moment, Erik’s world went red.
“Sentiment has always made you weak, Erik.”
Before Erik could put together the words, he himself was also flung into the air. Even with the Earth’s magnetic field, Erik still couldn’t position himself in time to prevent himself from flying ungracefully in the air. Suddenly, he smacked against one of the cave’s walls, slumping to the ground in a messy heap. Stars and black dots danced around his vision while blood began to trickle down the back of his neck. His helmet, as handy as it was, didn’t seem to provide him any kind of padding. Suddenly, the familiar light weight on his head was removed and he saw Shaw place the helmet onto his long brown hair. Erik was about to lunge viciously at the bastard when he felt an invisible force prevent him from moving. His eyes held accusation and hate, but they narrowed when they saw Shaw simply shrug his shoulders.
“This isn’t my doing,” Shaw calmly said as he looked to his left.
Erik followed Shaw’s gaze and froze at what, or rather who, he saw. A young female with unbelievably beautiful orange hair staring at him with emotionless (and pupil-less) green eyes that glowed like a nightstick. She was wearing a tight green and yellow jumpsuit. Her right hand was extended directly at him, meaning that she was the one pinning him against the wall.
“Erik,” Shaw began, “I would like to introduce you to Ms. Jean Grey. Despite being only seventeen, her abilities already surpass a thirty year old’s.”
‘There she is,’ Erik thought. ‘She’s the other-’
“I refuse to accompany you and your son with your rescue mission,” Jean said in a monotone voice.
“How did you know that-”
“She’s a telepath, Erik. Stronger than you and Charles will ever know.” Shaw kneeled down and gently cupped the side of Erik’s head. “You’ve grown, mein sohn. Your priorities have changed. Then, you were driven by vengeance and closure. But now, sentiment has consumed you. Sentiment for Charles, Raven, and your son.”
Erik looked over Shaw’s shoulder and saw Apocalypse approaching Pietro, who remained unconscious. “Apocalypse, I swear to God, if you lay a single hand on him, I’ll-”
“God?” Apocalypse asked. “What God? The God who has remained silent in the sea of calls for mercy, forgiveness, and assistance? The God that has continually shunned mutant kind, generation after generation? The God that has turned his back on humanity all of these months?” Apocalypse looked at Erik, who continued to struggle against Jean’s hold like a savage. “I will answer the cries from humanity. I will be the enforcer of justice, vengeance, and death. I will be the figure all living beings will be forced to look up to. I am the supreme God.”
When Apocalypse kneeled beside Pietro, his muscular hands tenderly stroking the silver-hair and cupping Pietro’s lolling head, Erik let out a carnivorous snarl. However, it was Shaw’s balanced voice that forced him back into the present.
“After all of this time apart, the world of Erik Lehnsherr has changed. Which can only mean that his fears have also evolved into something far more complex.” Shaw turned to the possessed mutant. “Miss Grey, I would like to visit the mind of meine laborratte. Dig into the far depths of his soul and extract his biggest, most shattering fears. Do not show any mercy.”
As Jean knelt in front of Erik, the metal-bender mustered all his strength to free himself from her hold. “Don’t!! Verdammt, lass mich gehen!”
As Shaw leaned forward, Erik looked back at his son, only to be greeted by a different sight. Dallas, who had shifted from his shadow form back to his human form, stood protectively over Pietro, who was ever so slowly beginning to come to. The fear that both Dallas and Pietro would be slaughtered overwhelmed Erik. However, it was Shaw’s whispered, chilling words that halted Erik’s world.
“Sie brechen, Erik. Das verspreche ich…”
Before Erik could reply, he felt two fingers press against the side of his head. His world faded to black.