"Peter."

Peter turned, startled to see Erik sitting in a nearby chair and silently watching him. How had he not seen Erik there before? Peter turned away and looked toward the mansion doors again. It was both welcome and unwelcome. Peter, at the same time, wanted it and didn't. "Did Wheelchair put you up to this?"

"No, Peter. I'm here of my own free will."

Peter kept his eyes on the mansion's door. "Who told you?"

"Charles."

"So he did put you up to it." Peter knew that in an instant, he could be halfway around the world. Why, then, was he staying and having a conversation with Erik? Why was he being held back from leaving? Erik couldn't prevent him from leaving, even with his powers Peter could probably break free. Neither could Charles . . .

"So you are leaving," Erik said.

Peter huffed once. He'd never had this problem before. He was trying to force his legs to run out of the mansion, but they wouldn't move! What was wrong with him? "I thought you'd be gone before I was, Magnet."

"Why would I leave before you?" Erik asked.

"Because you never cared long enough to stick around," Peter said, spitting out the words a bit too harshly.

"It wasn't why I came back, Peter," Erik said, standing up, "but it might've made me stay."

Yeah, right. Peter laughed at this. "I'm your son. But right about now I wish I wasn't!" Peter didn't care the way Erik's expression twisted. All he wanted to do was leave before his own emotional state forced him to stay.

Erik blinked hard, but Peter looked away. "I know, Peter. I'm sorry for what I did; I shouldn't have overreacted."

Overreacted! Was that all it was to Erik? How stupid was he? "That's all it is to you? What about when you left Magda?" Peter growled.

"I didn't know, Peter!" Erik yelled. "I didn't know she was with child!"

"And after you knew, you threatened your own son!" Peter yelled. "I actually thought you cared! But I was wrong!"

Erik blinked. "What makes you think I don't care, Peter?"

"Gee, I wonder," Peter snarled. "Maybe the steel bar you pressed into my neck? You know, I don't know what I did to make you want to kill me, but—" Peter thought he heard metal somewhere nearby begin to bend. He glanced over at Erik, shocked to see his expression of disbelief.

"Is that what you think, Peter?" Erik asked.

"No, that's what I know!" Peter shouted. Why was Erik doing this? Pretending like he didn't know his own motives behind all the pain he'd already put him through . . . yeah, right! "Because when someone puts a steel bar to my neck like a javelin, I've got a mind to think that they're trying to kill me! I know you hate me, okay? So just let me leave!"

Erik stepped backward. "I wasn't trying to . . . Peter, I don't hate you."

Talk about the revelation of the century. Peter heard the words, blinked once, blinked again, then paused to make sure he'd heard correctly. No, it was a lie. It had to be. Peter's eyes narrowed. "Then why did you tell me to stay away from you?"

Erik closed his eyes, and Peter almost wished he hadn't asked the question when he saw Erik's next expression.

"Peter," Erik whispered, "It was my fault. Everyone I've ever befriended has . . . Charles, he can't walk. My wife and Nina . . . it was because of me! Don't you understand? I was trying to protect you!"

Peter stood in front of Erik, his mouth opened slightly in surprise. Was Erik really saying what he thought? Was this for real? Peter swallowed once. "Does that—"

"Yes, Peter," Erik said. "I was trying to keep you safe from all the bad circumstances that seem to follow me around like a plague. I figured that, if you got close enough to me, then the same thing would happen again. Something horrible would happen and you would end up hurt or worse. You think I'd want my one son to go through the same things that others have gone through? That I've practically caused to happen to them?"

The bag Peter was holding dropped to the floor. So it was true. Erik didn't hate him. He actually cared enough . . . enough to . . .

"I was angry at myself, at what I'd let happen to my family and friends," Erik muttered. "So I foolishly pushed you away. I told you to stay away from me because I didn't want to see you hurt, Peter."

Peter swallowed. "I can't get hurt, Magnet."

Erik smiled a bit and nodded wryly. "Of course you can't, Peter."

"If you wanted me to stay away from you, why'd you try to talk to me later?" Peter asked.

Erik closed his eyes for a moment. "Charles confronted me. Told me that I wasn't helping to keep you safe and that pushing you away without a proper explanation was the same as letting you die."

Well, that was true. Though he hated it when Charles interfered or tried to help, maybe this was for the best. "But I didn't listen," Peter breathed.

"I don't blame you," Erik said, shrugging. "I wouldn't have listened, either." Here Erik glanced at the ceiling briefly. "I rarely do."

So that's all it'd been. A misunderstanding. Erik hadn't meant it when he said he wanted to never talk to him again. He didn't hate him. Erik didn't hate his son. "I don't hate you," Peter blurted out.

Erik laughed. "I know, Peter." Then he frowned again and motioned to Peter's bag that lay on the ground. "I just wanted to tell you before you left."

Peter glanced at his bag on the ground and picked it up, slinging it over his shoulder. He looked at Erik, then to the bag on his shoulder. "Y-yeah."

Erik nodded. "Goodbye."

Peter opened his mouth to say farewell, then snapped it shut. What was he doing? Was he crazy or something? Here he and Erik had finally reconciled, and he was even considering walking out that door?! "You know what? I . . . think I'll pass."

Erik's eyes widened, but Peter saw them glow briefly even in such dim lighting. "Really?"

"Yeah. I've been to China a dozen times already. Pretty boring. I've been everywhere, so there's nowhere I can go that would be interesting. It's more fun to annoy Wheelchair, anyway. And hang with my friends." In a blink, Peter threw down his bag and raced to the kitchen to made two turkey sandwiches. He returned to Erik and held a sandwich out to him. "Want one?"

Erik nodded, then took the sandwich and began eating. "So you've decided to stay."

Peter nodded, taking a bite of his own sandwich. "What about you?"

"I'll stay for a little bit longer," Erik said airily. "At least until you're able to outrun the sun."

Peter grinned without showing his teeth. "You know, Magnet, my last run might've been a onetime thing. A fluke. It could take me a long time to be able to run faster than the sun. Years, even."

"Then I guess I'll be here for a while," Erik said, touching Peter's own sandwich with his own as a toast before taking another bite.

"I guess you will." Peter was about to say more, but quiet cheering directed both his and Erik's attention to Charles' study off to their left. Peter saw several faces poking out of the room quickly withdraw, then he glanced over at Erik. "Did you know about this?"

Erik was frowning. "Come out here, all of you."

Peter watched as all his teammates came out the study, and he was surprised to see that Charles was the last person to exit. Wow, talk about an audience.

"I'm quite glad to hear that you're not leaving, Peter," Charles said. He was practically beaming.

Jean nodded. "We all are."

Peter looked around, then snorted. "There's no such thing as privacy around here, is there?"

"Sorry, Pete," Scott said, reaching out and bumping fists with him. "We just had to know if you were leaving or not."

"Great to know I've got so many friends," Peter said, grinning a bit.

"Seems to me that they're more like enemies," Erik muttered. "Charles, I'm surprised at you."

Charles blinked innocently. "I was just making sure my students were staying out of trouble."

"And getting yourself into trouble at the same time," Erik said, a bit drily.

"I thought that was my job," Peter said. "At least, that's what my mom always said."

"I can believe it," Erik said. "With your speed, you'd be able to get into trouble about one hundred times faster than a normal human."

"And annoy me about one hundred times faster," Charles said.

"At least it gives me something to do," Peter said, grinning.

"And it keeps all of us entertained," Erik said, grinning as well.

"Shove off, both of you," Charles said, groaning slightly.

"By the way, Magnet," Peter said, rushing to the kitchen and returning with a slice of pizza, "I thought up another nickname for you."

Erik blinked. "Really? What's that?"

Peter grinned. "Dadneto." Then he was off, in the kitchen again preparing himself a dozen hot dogs. If Peter had turned around, he would've seen a smug expression on Charles' face and a slight sigh from Erik.

"At least it's better than Dadneto," Charles said.

"Shut up," Erik groaned.

Peter returned and passed around the hot dogs he'd made. No one got much sleep that night, but it wasn't a big deal at all for Peter. The others had a bit of trouble staying awake, but sleep could always come later. For now, Peter was happy. Ecstatic, really.

Because now, Peter was surrounded by friends, family, and food. What was better than that?

The End