It's imperative that he gets out of the house before Charles catches up with him, but he still gives himself time to knock on Raven's door.

She opens it, eyes bleary and a complaint on the tip of her tongue, but one look at the suitcase in his hand makes her freeze. She stares at Erik with wide eyes. "You're not," she says.

"I've been so stupid," Erik replies. Somehow saying it aloud makes it worse. "I've been so stupid, Raven."

Raven holds out a hand, as if she can stop him by merely clinging on to him. "That doesn't mean you have to run away," she says. "Erik, you said yourself, running away is cowardly."

Erik half laughs, tasting bitterness. "Well, I've been cowardly in many other respects today, I might as well finish the job."

Raven meets his gaze. She clearly wants to ask him what has happened, but she holds her tongue. "I could come with you," she offers instead. "It could be like the old days, we could – "

"Don't," Erik interrupts. "Stay here. If only because Hank might need you to be there for him soon. Maybe." He's not sure how much Charles will tell Hank, if anything. Perhaps Erik leaving will sort things out between them. He can only hope.

Raven's mouth trembles, but she doesn't argue. She takes his hand gently, stares down at it as if remembering something. "Those early days, when we ran away with each other," she says softly. "Who'd have ever thought we'd end up like this?"

Erik leans down on instinct and kisses her forehead. "I've got to go," he says.

"Yeah." Raven scrubs away sudden tears on her cheeks. "Okay. Be safe."

Erik wants to say he'll see her soon, but actually he's not sure if he'll ever see her again. He gives her another kiss on the forehead instead.

Then he picks up his suitcase and walks away.

He takes one of the X-Men's beaten up old cars, because he's not sure he has the mental energy to fly, and anyway he generally needs his full Magneto clothing to achieve it – he doesn't have enough metal on him at the moment.

He drives out of the school as fast as he can go, and no one tries to stop him. At one point, while zooming down a dark empty lane, he thinks he hears Charles's voice whisper Erik in his head, but it could be his imagination. Whatever it is, he gives it no reply.

He drives and drives, and around him the dawn breaks.

He stops at a motel when the daylight really hits, sleeps until evening, then drives through the night to another motel. He has a lot of funds in various offshore accounts from the days when he was Magneto, so money isn't a problem. He has no plan, but that's not really a problem either – there have been many times in his life when he has not had a plan. At the moment, the only thing he wants to do is to get as far away from the school – and people in general – as possible.

He thinks about putting the helmet back on, to ensure that Charles can't find him, but by the time he has thought about it, he figures Charles could have easily found him and tried to talk to him. The fact that he didn't means that he either isn't looking for Erik or he is leaving him alone. Plus, perhaps it will do good for Charles to see how far Erik is running away. Perhaps it will convince him that Erik will never return to the mansion. Because he won't. That's all over now.

He sleeps by day and drives by night, and tries not to think about what he is casting away.

He is waylaid for a few days by exhaustion – something that the old Magneto would never have a problem with, but the new Erik, overwhelmed with indecision and depression, clearly does. He spends a few days in the same motel, curled up in bed.

When, on the third day, there is a knock on his door, he assumes it is the motel owner coming to demand some more money, and as a result opens the door in a very bad humour.

It is not the motel owner. It is Hank.

Erik stares at him.

Hank pushes his glasses up his nose and smiles his trademark nervous smile. "Can I come in?" he asks.

Erik regains his powers of movement, and with it his wariness. He glances past Hank for Charles, but there is no one else around. "Depends," he ventures. "Are you going to punch me?"

Hank's smile sharpens. "Oh, I think we've hurt each other enough, don't you?"

Erik looks sidelong at Hank, but Hank's face stays open and honest. Not for the first time, Erik wishes he had Charles's powers of mind-reading. He takes a chance instead. "All right," he says. He opens the door wider. "But no turning blue, I'm not paying for a room you've trashed."

Hank says nothing, merely twitches his glasses on his nose again and steps into the room. It's a mess, but he wisely doesn't comment.

Erik takes a moment to wonder what the hell he is doing, then turns into the room himself and closes the door. "So why are you here, if it's not to punch me?"

Hank finishes his surveillance of the room and turns around to face Erik. "I'm here to talk some sense into you," he says straightforwardly.

Erik can't help but raise an eyebrow in reply. "Talk some sense into me?" It's laughable. "I'm the only one in this scenario who is being sensible!"

Hank smiles his half smile, like he does when he thinks someone is being stupid but is too polite, or kind, to say it out loud. "Just listen to what I have to say," he says, "And then you can chuck me out if you want."

Again, Erik wonders why he hasn't chucked out Hank already. He sits on the edge of his bed and waves Hank to a chair in the corner. Hank perches on it awkwardly. Erik can't blame him – this scenario has suddenly got stranger than he'd like.

"There are," Hank starts, "Different kinds of perfection."

Erik snorts dismissively. Hank sets his jaw. "All right," he says. "Then I'll be blunt. Charles wants to be with you, not me."

Erik stares at him. Hank meets his gaze. "We've discussed it," he says.

Erik can't even imagine that conversation, can't imagine the compensations that Hank must have made, the hurt feelings bandied about everywhere. He struggles to keep hold of himself, to explain calmly how impossible he and Charles are.

"It doesn't matter what he wants," he says. "You are better for him. You'd do anything he asks."

Hank's face darkens into the sort of expression Erik has only ever seen on Beast. "Yes, I would," he agrees sharply. "Including creating a serum that turns him into an addict for ten years and makes him scared of his own powers."

Erik is momentarily speechless. Hank takes the opportunity to keep talking.

"Charles doesn't need someone who will just do what he asks," he says. "He needs someone who will argue with him. He's not a man who should just be agreed with and obeyed. He's too powerful and fallible for that. He needs someone who is going to challenge every decision he makes." Hank looks at Erik significantly over the top of his glasses. "He needs someone who will be difficult."

He still doesn't get it, Erik thinks viciously. No one does. He leans forward with intent.

"I put him in that wheelchair," he snaps. "Okay? I did that. Me. I'm the reason he'll never walk again. I don't just challenge him, I cause him physical harm. I hurt him. He should be staying as far away from me as possible."

He expects Hank to run out of the room. To just stand up, maybe nod in acknowledgement, and then leave. He should. Instead, Hank shakes his head sadly.

"That's Magneto talking," he says. "Not Erik. Magneto causes harm. Erik helps make defences for schools, he talks to young mutants who are lost and scared, he protects them and helps them hone their powers. He sees into what they are, and he tells them it is okay, that they should never hide it because they are brilliant the way they are. That is what Erik does. He builds, he doesn't destroy." Hank sits back. "This is what Charles has been telling you, but you never believed it from him because you thought his emotions were clouding his judgement. But he is not the only one who thinks this. We all do."

Erik thinks of Jean, who asked for him to help her specifically. He thinks of Wolverine, who simultaneously fought with him and gave him advice. He thinks of Scott, who he felt should have always hated him but never seemed to. He thinks of his clay pigeon shooting class, of his control class, of the self defence classes he had given. None of the students in those classes had ever accused him of being Magneto. Even when the Second Brotherhood appeared, no one openly attacked him. Was it possible he had somehow proved himself to them? When he was unable to even prove himself to himself?

"The wheelchair," he murmurs, sticking to the important fact.

"That was an accident," Hank replies firmly. "It is forgiven. You and I both know that you would never in your life intentionally hurt Charles."

Erik can no longer stay sitting down – he stands up and starts pacing instead. There is too much forgiveness in the room, too many allowances being made for him. Hank should be here to accuse him, to remind him that it was he who crippled the man he loves, to give Erik a reason to properly turn his back on all of this and run, run, run.

Hank is like Charles – he forgives so much with such apparent ease that it is impossible to hate him or to want any harm to come to him. Erik rubs his head, shoots the man a sidelong glance. "Why are you trying to talk me into being with him?" he asks. "This man is your partner."

Hank nods calmly. "Yes, and he has been for years. We've been happy together." Hank hesitates, and for the first time Erik sees a glimmer of the pain he is in, the sadness that anyone would feel when something good comes to an end. When he continues though, his voice is steady. "We helped each other when both of us needed it, we supported each other when times were hard. We were perfect then, a perfect match. But time has moved on. The school is flourishing, there are other things to focus on, and we're just not...the right fit anymore. We both agree on this. We love each other, but things have changed. Doesn't mean we'll never talk again, or work together again, or stop being friends." He hesitates again. "And then there are others to consider..."

A lightbulb goes off in Erik's head. "You mean Raven," he says.

Hank suddenly seems uncomfortable, miles more uncomfortable than he has been during this whole conversation, even when he was talking about his breakup with Charles. "In a way," he says evasively. "In part. We haven't...but I know she would like to..."

He shifts on his chair nervously. Erik says wryly, "She would."

There is a small silence, in which Hank scratches the back of his head in embarrassment and Erik tries to work out if he is dreaming. Things just don't go this...right. Not for him.

"It's not just her," Hank says, and there is a firmness in his voice that convinces Erik that this is no self-delusion, no denial, that this is the truth as Hank knows it. "It's not just you. I think we were falling apart before that. I've allowed Charles his own way too much, and he hasn't treasured me enough. And it's no one's fault. It's just...how it is."

Erik has an epiphany. For the first time in his life, he allows himself to hope. And suddenly the truth of Hank's words call to him, bring him in. There are different kinds of perfection, Hank said. There is never just one perfection. Something can be perfect in multiple ways. Charles-and-Erik...it could be perfect.

"I've been a bit of an idiot, haven't I," he hears himself say.

Hank half smiles. "No," he says. "You've just...been in love."

Erik's heart is hammering against his ribs, but hammering in excitement, which is entirely new. "Do you think...if I go back..."

Hank's half smile turns into a proper smile. "I think he would like that very much."

Erik stands irresolute, transfixed by sudden hope, his heart singing in a way that it hasn't for an very long time. Hank stands up, brushing down his jumper as though he has done nothing more emotionally draining than having dinner. "I've got to go," he says.

Erik examines him. "Back to the mansion?"

"No." Hank hesitates. "I need to just...get away for a while. Clear my head a bit."

Erik finds himself pause as well. "About Raven," he says awkwardly. "She really does..." He trails off, not sure what to say, but that is apparently enough, because a little smile is quivering at the corner of Hank's mouth.

"She does?" he says.

"She does," Erik confirms.

Hank's little quiver of a smile blooms across his face, a sudden blast of the same emotion that is currently bouncing up and down in Erik's chest. "Right," he says. "Okay, that's...good to know."

"So," Erik says, "Don't stay away for too long. Okay?"

Hank nods. "Okay," he says.

Erik surveys the man in front of him. Even at his darkest moments, even when he was punching Hank in the face and treating him like dirt, he could never hate the man. Genius Hank, who spends his human moments helping fix the world and his beast moments kicking arse. No one could hate such a person. Even Erik, with parts of his soul so black that sometimes he think the damage will never be fixed, even Erik can't hate him.

He wants to shake Hank by the hand, grip his arm maybe, but instead he steps out of the door, leaves Hank in the motel room and gets into his car.

He has a long way to go, but he's going home.

A/N: This is NOT the last chapter, I have at least one more in the works! So stay turned for the finale! :) Thanks for all the love!