I just saw Xmen: Apocalypse earlier today. Personal review: 7.5/10, and a fic was born afterward. I think I just fall in love - again - with Magneto and Quicksilver. THERE ARE SPOILERS. DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Marvel. I just own the fic.

Erik swept his gaze aroung the chamber that Charles had granted for him for the last month, made sure he left nothing back behind. To be fair, he could have just left hours ago, like last time - or as Hank liked to mutter under his breath: 'bailed out' - but given recent circusmtance, it was too much of a heartless act, even for him. So Erik opted to stay back a while to say goodbye, doing normal thing like packing his stuff. However there was a not so small part of him - it was so much bigger than he'd like to admit - that there was a reason that kept him stalling from departure, or rather someone. No it was not Charles. No not Mystique. Erik wasn't sure if he was ready to face this inevitable task yet, and as he had observed, neither was the kid, but damn the father in him if he dared to walk out that enormous gate without telling his son goodbye.

Just as his thought trailed off to the forbidden sentimental tragic part - it seemed to do that much lately - came a soft, and also impatient, knock on his door.

"Come in." - Erik called out, and bit back a sigh as a familiar silver head poked through the door frame. Mentally he sent a rather loud and rude curse toward the now bald man in the basement, knowing the godammed telepath could hear it just well. The sheepish apology followed by an irritating reasoning lecture was quickly kicked out of his head later, as the German came to focus on the task at hand.

Brown eyes rose up to meet his blue ones. Erik would be an outright liar if he said those weren't like Nina's when she was about to ask him a favour. He could read in those the hesitation, nervousness, and even some excitement, although for Peter there was also dreading.

"Come." - Erik waved the kid over (it wasn't fair to call him a kid anymore, but damn he was his father) and patted on the bed next to him. The silver hair boy cautiously took a step in, eyes darting around, surely not missing the packed trunk next to the bed.

"You leaving." - It was more of a statement, not question. The hurt and disappointment radiating from the boy struck Erik's wounded heart more violently than everything Apocalypse was capable of.

"Well," - Erik cleared his throat as Peter shifted his feet nervously - "I've done my job here. It's time for me to leave." - Oh the guilt of a father when he had to see how much the word had let his kid down. - "But I can spare anytime for you, if you want to."

And there came the hope, and doubt, as the kid considered his options. - "Why don't you come over here and sit?" - Again, Erik could see the wheel turning in Peter's head, before he dragged his feet up and moved painfully slowly for a speedster toward the bed. Erik pretended not to notice the quick caculating glance his son threw him, for the sake of his dignity. He had had a daughter...

"Did..." - Another quick glance, but this time Erik held his son's gaze. - "Did they told you,... you know... about...?" - The silver hair boy trailed off, he didn't look so much like a grown man at the time, just a little kid that was nervous about his father.

"That I am your father?" - Erik finished it for him, as gently as he could, ignoring the pain nagging at his heart where little Nina was looking up at him in expectation with her mother's smile. - "They don't need to tell."

A heavy silence fell between them, for a moment Erik had to close his eyes off, shielding himself against the eternal pain of loss as Nina's call "Papa, papa" rang through his head like thousands and thousands of bullets. He needed to be strong, not for his sake but for his son's, Peter, as well. For my family. He needed to be strong. Erik could be strong.

Erik looked up as Peter put a hand on his shoulder. The boy immediately let go, as if he scared he had somehow hurt Erik even more. Where the hell had he been throughout Peter's life? Where the hell had he been, and what he had missed?

"I'm sorry." - The boy said quickly. Before Erik could assured him, Peter had continued. - "I came to your house."

He didn't need to ask which house he was talking about.

"I saw the bodies, and I knew something terribly had happened, and I was late, again." - Peter looked down at his worn out shoes, and as a habit, Erik had added at least a dozen pairs of sneakers in the shopping list before he could catch himself digging the wound deeper. - "I... I saw their graves." - Erik closed his eyes again, his daughter's body laid cold in his arms and her eyes closed forever. - "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for not being there on time. I... I, you know... I could.. could have done something... I'm sorry." - His voice went hoarse, thick with emotions. - "It wasn't how I had imagined we would meet. Nor even now. I don't know, I didn't expect much." - Peter's voice trailed off until there was only silence left. - "I just want to know, I guess." - He continued in a whisper.

Erik still couldn't bring himself to open his eyes and face the cruel reality surrounding him, even when Peter had stood up and prepared to leave. He knew he had to, god, a part of him wanted to, but the weight of loss was too heavy for him to carry on. God dammit his son was standing right there waiting for him to make a move, to stand up, or just look up, do something. His son, his family by blood, the one thing Erik had always desired for.

The door cracked, but Peter was still standing there, hesitating to leave. His son needed him. He needed a father. Stand up, look up, do something...

"I guess it's a goodbye." - Peter muttered, there it was, barely hidden, the pain in his voice. Gaining all the strength he had left, Erik stood up and closed their distance in three long steps and wrapped his arms around his son.

Are they going to take you away from me too, Papa?

Never.

It took a moment, a second, an hour or a minute, or maybe nothing at all before Erik felt his son hugging him back for all the years they had spent apart and all the loss they had suffered. Curse him to hell if Erik ever let his family be harmed again, not in this life, not ever.

"Dad?" - Peter was sniffing. He would outright lie that he wasn't crying and so would Erik. Like father like son.

"I'm sorry too, I'm sorry for being a terrible man, a monster, for not being there for you and your mom. I'm sorry, I'm terribly sorry." - His embrace went tighter, he wasn't going to lose one of his children again to the stupid evil world. - "I'm sorry for all the mistake I've made. I'm sorry. I want to fix everything between us, but I don't know how."

Peter sniffed, again. - "Neither do I, but we can ask Hank or Prof. Xavier if you want."

Erik snorted, and let his son untangle himself from the embrace, after all his speedster must be at least 26 by then. - "I mean it." - The German kept his hand on the boy's shoulder, not fully ready to let go just yet. - "I want to fix thing between us."

Peter stared into Erik's eyes, seemingly looking for something, maybe a confirmation, before nodding his head. They didn't need words, nor telepathy, they were connected by blood.

"So does that mean you will stay for a while longer?"

Erik pondered the question in his head. What had he got to lose? He wanted a family, here it was, right next to him. And friends, Charles, Mystique and Hank (even though the man seemed to dread the so called friendship). He had nowhere to go either. Sure Erik had plans. But his son was more important.

"Yeah, a while longer."

Peter's smile was exactly like his, Erik noted. He also had his nose, but the rest was his mother's credit. Well, his gene was still favoured elsewhere.

"I put a flower crown on her grave. Nina's" - Erik heard his son whisper, nervous for not knowing how his reaction would be. - "I don't know which one she loved, so I just picked a little bit of all in the garden."

It was still hard to open his eyes afterward, but Erik found it easier to look up and see Peter instead of an empty void. It was still hard and damn it hurt, hurt like hell. But at least he still had someone left to care about.

"She would love it."

Both of their smile were forced, but it would eventually become better. They had time.