In the middle of it all, Charles sent a message asking him to meet.

For old times' sake, Erik agreed, and stood waiting at dusk on the beach, standing on the long abandoned boardwalk, wearing his helmet of course. The beach was cold, the wind sharp; it was nothing like the beach he remembered from long ago.

Charles came to him, alone, as promised.

"You know that I won't change my mind," Erik said to him brusquely.

"You know that I'm going to try to get you to anyway."

Charles smirked at him, almost daring Erik to be infuriated. His lips a bright line of pink, almost red, from the cold, and for just a second Erik remembered a morning, many years ago.

Sunlight streaming reddish gold light through their window. Sheets crumpled, pillows tossed unceremoniously onto the floor. Charles' lips, pink and plump from making Erik lose his mind.

Charles tilted his head then, raised an eyebrow.

"Thinking of something interesting?" he asked Erik with a too-knowing smile.

"You can't read me while I'm wearing this," Erik said icily, tapping his helmet. "Don't bluff that you can."

Charles grinned widely. "I can't believe you think I need my powers to recognize that look on your face."

Erik grimaced. Here, after everything, just days away from ruling the world, Erik still felt Charles could control him with nothing but a smile.

It was a painful reminder.

"What are you here for, Charles?" he demanded angrily.

Charles leaned back, slow, teasing, and looked up at him. He pursed his lips, then answered, "What I'm always here for, Erik. I'm here for you."