As it turned out, Erik was talked down at the beach. Imagine that, imagine a world where that could be possible. In this world, Charles probably couldn't imagine being paralyzed.

Even Azazel and Janos joined, under some protest. And, by logical conclusion, there is no X-Men vs. Brotherhood.

Only the X-Men. A united front: in public. Split into factions, often enough, behind closed doors.

And what has Erik sacrificed his righteous cause for? Because Charles has held on to Moira. He may not be fucking her - Erik doesn't think - but there are other ways of betrayal than via the dick.

Because although they weren't sleeping together before the beach -- he and Charles - they are now. Oh, they are now.

It sounds ideal. But nothing is, and it really isn't.

They have bad days, bad weeks. Sometimes there's peace in public, and war in the mansion. Not even just him and Charles, but the rest of them dragged into it, too. It would have been better to go his own way, he thinks, sometimes. His heart would have bled, but at least they'd all have known where they were, not dragged off course by compromise.

Sometimes he regrets being talked down.

But then again: a bad day with Charles is some way better than a joyless harmony with someone else.

(Emma doesn't think so. Emma is the one they're keeping an eye on, now. Maybe the Brotherhood is inevitable, the militant faction. Which leader? Does it matter?)

And the divisions get worse. There are even periods of not sleeping together, purely professional associates.

(It doesn't last.)