No one awoke before ten the next day and no one was out of bed before eleven. The events of the night had taken a toll on them all be it physically, emotionally, or both. Lorna lay curled up between her siblings once more, dreams of the night's events flowing through her mind causing her to cry out in her sleep and wildly toss and turn. But, even in their sleep, the twins knew what to do to comfort her. Peter traced gentle circles into her upper back as Wanda trailed her hands though her younger sister's hair

Charles sat awake in his bed, rolling a rook of an old chess set between his fingers as thoughts wormed their way through his brain. He needed to think through the facts and, for the moment, avoid speculation. Erik Lehnsherr, more commonly known as Magneto, was the father of a pair of twins: Peter and Wanda Maximoff. Their mother was Magda Maximoff; they had a younger sister named Lorna Maximoff. Lorna was not as ordinary as everyone had originally thought, she was a mutant. And with those powers of hers, those powers of magnetism, could she also be a child of Erik's? Charles shook his head; there he went again with speculation. Yes, he knew Magda had told her children that there was a chance that Lorna could be Erik's, but he also knew that it was not his place to reveal this fact. And so he settled back against his pillows and sighed, trailing his hands through his hair. That was enough of thinking. With a little difficulty, he eased himself into his wheelchair and pulled a warm cardigan on over his pyjamas before wheeling himself out the door and towards the kitchen.

One by one, young mutants who had been rescued from the compound made their way into the kitchen for breakfast and Charles greeted eat one of them with a warm and friendly smile. He engaged in pleasant small talk with each of them and began to learn about their powers. Hope was growing within him that he would be able to get the school running again, and these young mutants would be his first students.

Erik stayed sat against the headboard of his bed, listening to the growing clamour of voices downstairs. He wasn't quite ready to go down and join the crowd yet. He frowned down at the bullet wound in his shoulder and lightly trailed a fingertip over the stitches he'd put in before falling asleep the night before. Perhaps now it would finally be allowed to heal. Perhaps. He was snapped out of his thoughts by a gentle knocking on the door and an impatient huff from outside it.

"Who is it?" he called out.

"Me." Lorna replied, "And Petey."

"Come in."

The siblings entered the room as Erik pulled a T-shirt on and Lorna bounded up onto the bed, sitting at Erik's feet. She gnawed on her lip and opened her mouth to speak before closing it again quickly and casting her brother a glance.

"Lo, it's not that hard to say." Peter sighed, though still his attitude was light hearted.

"Then you say it." The child huffed back.

"What is this that needs said?" Erik asked, frowning at his son. Son: a word it still felt strange to him to use.

"Lorna wants to ask you something. She wants to ask you if –"

He was cut off by his younger sister piping up and blurting out her question, her train of thought acting like a derailed steam train, "Muma said there was a chance you might be my dad well I think that's what she said, I'm not sure. I think it is. Are you my dad? My real dad?"

Erik looked shocked, a very rare occurrence for him. His brow furrowed and his lips pursed and he exhaled deeply through his nose. "I would that I had the answer." He told her honestly, "But unfortunately I don't. It's a question you'll have to put to your mother."

The young mutant frowned and hopped up off the bed, "Okay." She said decisively and darted out of the room, determination echoing through her footsteps.

Barely a moment later Erik heard footsteps approaching the door once more and slid silently out of bed. A quick fist tapped at the door and he strode over to it, clad simply in his shirt and underwear.

"Magda." He greeted somewhat curtly, "Have you come for another shouting match? Because I'd rather eat something beforehand, it's far more pleasant to argue on a full stomach."

"I haven't come to argue, Erik. But you're really making me want to." Replied his ex. "I've come to talk to you about Wanda and Peter. And Lorna."

Erik said nothing but nodded for her to go on.

"I wasn't sure at first, but after what she did, after showing her powers… I…" Magda trailed off, "She's eight years old. And eight years ago we reunited in a bar. And…"

"And we slept together, yes." Erik nodded, "You're trying to tell me she's my child too, aren't you?"

Magda gnawed on the inside of her lower lip and nodded, "I think so."

"Look at me, Magda. Look at my name, my reputation. I cannot be a father to Peter, let alone to a young child."

"And I don't want you to be. Believe me this is the opposite of what I want. But it is the exact thing they all will want."

"Magda…"

"No, Erik. Don't say anything else. Just think about it. You can't change their genetics. And they want you in their life. So it's up to you whether you stay in their lives or not. Though don't think this is a proposition to get back together – I do not want that at all. I've made the mistake of loving you before and it is not one I'll do again. So be there for you children or don't; it doesn't matter to me. It matters to them." Magda snapped before stalking out of the room without giving Erik a chance to reply.

The metal-bender sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. He pressed his forehead against the now-closed door and let out another irregular exhale. This wasn't a decision he knew how to make. Military decisions, tactics, who lives and dies… those were decisions he knew how to make. But decisions about family, about his family – a phrase he never once he thought would apply to him – those weren't decisions he was equipped to make.

Try, Erik. Came Charles' ever comforting voice in him mind. But Erik shook his head against the wood of the door.

Out of my head, Charles. I do not need you at this moment.

Oh but I beg to differ, old friend.

I seem to be unable to remember asking for your opinion. Replied Erik, though laced with bitterness.

Just try. Try to be a father. They won't expect you to be the father they never had, but… at least, try to be there for them. For all three of them.

Out of my head. Now. Snapped Erik and, before he had a chance to think about what he was doing, he put his fist through the wall that separated the bathroom from the rest of the room. He couldn't be a father. He simply couldn't. He was a man with a price on his head; he was a murderer; a branded terrorist; he was Magneto. The list of people who would want him dead was near endless. And he couldn't do it to what little conscience he had left to bring those young mutants into his mess.

But, on the flip side, could he? If it became known he had children then those kids would surely have bounties placed on their own heads. And so… and so he had to protect them, he had to ensure their safety; to do so he had to be there. Not necessarily as a father. But, perhaps, as a protector. Could he allow these children into his life? Perhaps he could. Perhaps he should.

And so here we reach the end of the line. I feel that this story has run its course and I should bring it to a close, and while this chapter was difficult to right, I am happy with where I decided to bring this story to a close.

I really hope you all enjoyed this and if you did I would be over the moon if you left a little review.

To reiterate, only the characters you don't recognise belong to me. The rest all belong to the FMCU and Marvel itself.

Thank you all for sticking by me with this story. Until the next time my friends!