A/N: I know it's a bit of an age stretch from 1962 to 2006. But bear with me here, because I couldn't use the younger William Stryker 'cause he's like 14 in X-Men First Class.

Epilogue

2006, Westchester Institute for Gifted Youngsters

~ William Stryker ~
The Professor greeted me at the gates, face flushed and eyes bright, and for someone who was heading near seventy he looked fairly well. In the background I could hear the shouts of children, mainly consisting of complaining about cheating with powers, and I smirked to myself as my grandson simply shrugged and jogged over to me, letting his illusionary double monitor the chaos.

"Welcome back, General Stryker," the Professor said. "I apologize, I wasn't expecting you so early – "

I waved it off. I hadn't spent much time with the Professor, preferring to deal with Magneto during the negotiations, for two reasons. One, I had never really wanted the Professor to pull out my encounter with Irene Adler so many years ago, and two, because as a military man I could understand Magneto. The Professor . . . was a bit more easily underestimated, and I intended to never underestimate him. It was much harder to underestimate or grow complacent around Magneto.

"Where's my daughter?" I asked.

I had adopted a mutant child, a lovely little girl with a rather mundane power – making sparks at her fingertips – and she and my son had grown close, so much so that when Jason had first manifested it had been to Jubilee that my son had gone for advice, which had led him to have Jason studying at the Westchester Institute.

The Professor leaned on a bench. During the first years of the Weapon X program, where the CIA and the Westchester Institute had worked to ensure the freedom of mutants across the globe, there had been plenty of serums developed, including one that had helped spur the healing of the Professor's formerly severed spinal cord. It had, at the very least, gone a long way towards softening Magneto's hatred.

It had not, however, lightened his protectiveness. Somehow he seemed to think that we were just waiting for the day to take the serum back from the Professor and cripple him again.

Magneto had been very, very hard to win over. It had taken years of civil and mutant rights laws going through and lots of persuasion from the Professor before he had started relaxing enough to make Westchester his base. He still refused to let us know what mission the Brotherhood did behind our backs, though.

"I'm afraid she's with Erik," the Professor said apologetically. "They're setting up Warlock on Genosha now, and she wanted to go see it."

Of course.

Genosha was a mutant sanctuary, for those who didn't want or weren't yet ready to mingle in the human world. It had formerly been entirely one giant experiment on mutants, but with the CIA's help, the Brotherhood and the X-Men had freed it, and were now working to make the country part of the United Nations.

"I suppose you can wait for – Oh." The Professor's eyes cleared, and he turned, a smile already spreading across his face.

After that, he didn't need to speak for me to know what was going on.

The Professor had been the first telepath to acknowledge his mutation publicly – well, somewhat. Magneto's mutation had been known for years, he just hadn't presented it all neat and scientifically like the Professor had. Of course, shortly afterward, the studies had focused on the mindlinks that telepaths often forged between those in their family, with the Professor having submitted to testing to prove that he was not only the most powerful telepath in the world but also had the strongest mindlink – in his case, to Erik Lehnsherr.

Five seconds later, Magneto's figure appeared in the doorway, and then, swift and silent as ever, he was by the Professor's side, greeting him with a quick kiss to the temple and an arm sliding around his waist.

"General Stryker," Magneto said coolly.

I knew that the two weren't flamboyant about their relationship – even the two gold rings that glinted on their hands were fairly small and inconspicuous – unless, of course, one or the other happened to be threatened. Magneto had made it fairly clear early on that any threats against the Institute or the Professor would be interpreted as a threat against him, and after a few demonstrations, people had learned to stay far away from the Professor.

In the beginning, many had seen the Professor as too soft to retaliate in equal response. Magneto had been taken only once.

People had been too terrified of what the Professor had done that time to ever try doing it again.

I had seen it coming, of course, thanks to Adler, but thankfully Onslaught's rage had not been aimed at me this time, and instead at the foolish Friends of Humanity who'd dared to take Magneto when he had travelled to Europe on the Brotherhood's first offensive mission in response to an anti-mutant riot. It had still been utterly terrifying, though.

"Magneto," I replied. No one called the metalkinetic "Erik" anymore, except for his family – in fact, most mutants who worked with the Institute were more widely known by their chosen mutant names than by their given names.

The Professor swatted gently at Magneto's hand, probably in rebuke for some thought; Magneto merely smiled like a predator stalking his prey, although the edges were softened as he gazed down at the telepath. The two had been together so long that I had only ever actually heard them talking out loud when conversing with each one or two times.

"We do make an attempt," the Professor protested. "At least once a day."

Magneto raised an eyebrow. "We make an attempt," he emphasized, drawing the telepath closer in a move that once might have been protective and now was merely a sign of affection.

Of course, it still might be protective. Magneto was rumored to only trust the Professor's safety when he was absent with a handful of his highest lieutenants in the Brotherhood and the X-Men, and never with a human – especially not someone like me, a human involved with the intelligence agencies.

"Erik trusts you," the Professor said, and then made a face. "I'm sorry, you are thinking very loudly, my apologies."

Magneto grumbled something, shifting his stance.

"Erik."

"Charles," he returned easily. There was a pause and then he said, suddenly, "Your daughter is with Destiny, Stryker."

I blinked, and then sighed. Sometimes, the Professor and Magneto were more like two faces of the same person or perhaps two sides of the same coin that it was honestly scary. It had probably only gotten worse when the mindlink between them had triggered secondary mutations, resulting in the Professor becoming mildly telekinetic and Magneto mildly telepathic.

Which was why I refused to touch Magneto's skin.

"Who is Destiny?" I asked curiously. It seemed like every time I turned around there was a new member of the X-Men or the Brotherhood.

Magneto raised an eyebrow. "Her slave name was Irene Adler," he said, tone distasteful.

I froze.

The Professor's eyes flicked to mine, and he frowned. He pulled away from Magneto's side, seeming startled by the strength of my reaction. "It's all right," he soothed. "She can't really change your future, she can only see it."

"Charles."

"Erik, really, one can guess your power from your name," the Professor said.

Magneto snorted. "No need for the whole world to know."

I cleared my throat. "I would actually agree with that, Onslaught," I said, thinking back to how grossly I'd underestimated Adler's power when she had told me, outright, that her name was Destiny – and Magneto too, actually, after he'd messed with our magnetic poles.

Both Magneto and the Professor froze.

In the next instant, Magneto was suddenly standing in front of the Professor, and a bench had ripped itself free with a screech to hover around him.

"How do you know that?" Magneto demanded, low and furious.

I blinked, thinking back over my words. I hadn't said anything terribly out of line, although it had been hard, the first few months as I'd pushed for the passing of a mutant rights bill and the acknowledgement of mutants as people that the CIA would still protect – but now the future was outpacing Adler's visions, so I hadn't thought there was really a need to really guard my words.

The Professor laid a hand on Magneto's hand. "Erik."

"How can he possibly know it?" Magneto hissed, refusing to move aside and definitely keeping his eyes on me. "No one knows about that name except Mystique, Phoenix, and me. No one. And definitely not a human."

I sighed as I realized my mistake.

They were right – they had never formally acknowledged the Professor's level five manifestation. Jean Grey was known formally as Marvel Girl, but she too had a level five manifestation, Phoenix, that she had made well known when she had helped free Genosha. However, the Professor had never acknowledged Onslaught.

I gestured at my temple. "It's all right, Professor. You can read my mind." It would make no difference now, I reasoned.

Magneto's eyes narrowed dangerously, but the Professor merely took his hand and stared at me.

For a moment, I felt nothing.

Then, with a shudder like a car engine coming to life, I felt the memories springing up, flowing to the forefront after decades of being pushed to the back – Adler's arrival, our confrontation, the visions, my choice to choose between fire and ice.

Magneto seemed shaken, when it was over, and I knew that he had shared the visions with the Professor.

"You wanted to kill Charles?" he snarled, taking a step forward as the twisted remains of the bench lurched forward. "How dare you – "

The Professor's eyes flashed a brilliant blue – the sign of Onslaught, I knew – before he restrained Magneto. "It's all right, Erik. Remember what he has done for us. And I'm still alive," he finished quietly. "He made the right choice – and – and I thank you for it, General Stryker, I know it wasn't easy."

I put my hands in my pockets. "I wanted a world that was safe for my son," I said simply. "You can agree with my reasoning or not, but my son is human, Magneto, and you would have killed him as you killed me. I was ready to do whatever was necessary to spare him that." I looked away. "But Adler – Destiny – she showed me that we could have peace without that. And . . . I think, I think it was worth it."

Thank you, the Professor said in my head, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

I looked into the distance, where my daughter was chatting eagerly with my grandson, where children were playing and happily using their mutations, where the Institute instead of being the exception to the rule was the microcosm of the whole world where mutants were valued and accepted for who and what they were. This was not the peace I might have aimed for. But it was a peace far stronger than any I might have forged through war against Magneto and the Professor.

"No, Professor, Magneto," I murmured. "I think I should be thanking you."