Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men. Marvel does.

A/N: Well, this is it. The Epilogue. It's all over! ... In case you're here from alerts, STOP. Did you notice that there was a new chapter before this? Please go back and look, otherwise you will probably be confused. :)

Also, thank you all so so so much for your kind words and thoughts during the story. I totally appreciate the time you took out to write the reviews you left. They seriously make my days. :) You guys have no idea how wonderful you are. I would gush longer, but I think you want to read, soo ... :3 Just know I'm gushing gratitude.

Epilogue

Erik did not know what he had done in his life that he deserved where he was now. Surely killing dozens of people, both under orders and under duress - starting a war that was bound to brings thousands more deaths - did not provide a happy ending. And he had played Grim Reaper to more than just the cruel and evil and unjust. Innocents had died before his eyes, by his hand, long before he had even reached his fifteenth birthday.

"Relax."

Yet here he was, the Jew, the Nazi hunter, the mutant, the monster, twisted up in fine, comforting cotton sheets, lips traveling hot frantic trails down sweat-slicked pale skin like a starving man, as he slowly entered the smaller mutant beneath him.

"E-Erik."

Pulling his lips away. "Do not speak, Charles, or I will stop."

Four months after he had had his revenge on Herr Doktor. Four months after the "mutant threat" had become the focus of the human governments. Four months after he had met this man - Charles - and formed the beginnings of an organized race with him. Started a war of freedom with him. Four months to now. To this thing that he did not deserve.

You-ah. You would not dare-.

Smirking slightly against the nape of his lover's neck, Erik nipped and pulled back until they were barely touching. Would you care to test me on this? I can be quite - he thrust forward sharply, crashing his mouth against the telepath's to pull away the oxygen that would make him moan, even as his own cry escaped - stubborn.

B-believe me -God, Erik!- I know.

Four months, Charles' throat had not completely healed. He could speak, if done softly in normal tones. Sharp cries and low whispers made him cough relentlessly, made him bleed, and Erik as well as the children always made it their job to make sure he didn't speak when it was not necessary. Not that it was ever necessary for a telepath to use his voice, but their new recruits and growing society were often put at ease if they heard him speak verbally first, before entering their minds.

You're drifting, Charles accused, twisting his hips purposely in a way that forced Erik to slip deeper into the tight warmth that was still so new to them both. Am I not enough for your thoughts like this tonight, Erik? Should I finish myself, then, if you're too busy? A pause, and then Charles pushed himself up, placing a gentle kiss to the side of his lips. Come back, Erik, he beckoned, drawing him closer, deeper.

The cool feel of thin red and silver metal around his lover's finger, made from an old, small coin at Charles' quiet and honest request, brushed against his shoulder blade. A matching one on his own finger. A hard fought battle, but a constant reminder. A conquering. Erik smiled.

He should have been left alone. This should have ended. But he had to have done something right, somewhere. Somehow.

"I am here, liebe," he swore, and began moving again. The metal of their rings rang as they clicked together, hands interlocking. "I am here."

As am I.

A/N:

And it's done! Wow. And yay! :3 Thank you guys for sticking around and reading! Or just showing up and reading all four pieces. Whichever. My undying gratitude towards you! I shall pay it in ... more stories. Oh yes. Delightful.

Let me know what you thought? :)