In Which We Are Nothing But His Lies To Each Other

[Magda Eisenhardt]

Magda got out of the car, letting the darkness and her dark clothing hide her as she approached the mailbox. Opening it, she pulled a letter--what appeared to be a bill of some sort--and read the name on it. Looking up from the letter to the house, her eyes widen and heartbroken, Magda took in the setting. Erik had lied to her. Not with direct words but in omission. She had thought to be his confidant, his trusted, his partner to bare the weight on the on coming war . . . . . but even to her--HER--he kept things from her.

Her breaths came in shallow pants, as if on the verge of sobbing. So much had happened. So many things were growing between Erik and herself, and Magda knew that it was only a matter of time before one of them broke under the strain of the tense feelings between them. His daughter. Now a sister. His past and his lies were catching up to him, and he got the benefit from them while she was left broken hearted. She wanted to be bitter, she wanted to hurt him like he was hurting her but she couldn't. Because he loved him and she stayed for him. For Erik. For the cause she had come to believe in.

She felt lost at sea, and a bit broken. Looking around the yard she noticed a toy left out. Children! Her lips parted on a silent sob. CHILDREN! As if this could not get worse! He had family, and she had him--and she wasn't even sure she had him any longer!

Closing her eyes, she sealed herself off. Ignore it. It will stop hurting if she ignored it long enough. When her eyes opened they were strong. Anger burned there. Her body no longer shaken from the broken shock, but tight and strong. Sure. Magda walked toward the house, and then around it, staying a few feet from it while she circled it. Tucking the bill into her jacket--a present she would leave on Erik's pillow so he'd know she know--Magda came to pause by the back door.

Reaching up to wipe under her eye, she pulled her fingers away to look at the last sign of her sadness, the only thing left was her anger. Looking toward the house in an eiry calm, she used her powers to turn off all the power--alarms, lights, anything her powers let her--before breaking the glass by the door handle and reaching in to unlock it, and walking in the back door. There she waited, for the owners would come, and she needed to see the woman's face before she confronted Erik.

[ruth]

Ruth shifted in her spot on the sofa, curled up next to her husband. The house was relatively quiet—save for the sounds of I Love Lucy emanating from the television and the ticking of the grandfather clock, there wasn’t a sound to be heard. It had been an eventful day; Alicja had visited in order to give her parents a chance to meet the adorable little boy she was working to adopt. It was wonderful to hear a child’s shrieks of laughter again.

“Think we should head off to bed,” Howard asked, reaching for the remote.

“Probably a good idea,” Ruth agreed. “I need to be at the clinic by seven tomorrow morning.”

“So early?”

“Mrs. Johnson called me earlier today; the poor woman was frantic. From the sound of it, little Suzie is starting to manifest a physical mutation. It took twenty minutes to calm her down and assure her that I would see Suzie first thing in the morning.”

“Gotta give your brother credit; more parents are starting to go to you when their kids do weird things instead of trying to hide it.”

“I’d give him more credit if he—” Ruth was cut short when the lights and television suddenly shut off. “What the—” The sound of breaking glass filled the air and the pair immediately rose to their feet.

Ruth immediately felt for the table where she’d set her purse, locating her handgun. A few warning shots were usually enough to fend off any would-be burglars. Gripping the pistol, she made her way to the kitchen door, Howard hot on her heels.

She paused by the kitchen door frame, angling herself so that she could better observe the situation. Shattered glass glittered where the moonlight hit it, and the back door was open. As her eyes better adjusted to the dark, she could make out a figure. Ruth flipped the safety off and aimed.

“Who’s there?”

[Magda Eisenhardt]

Magda found a framed photo of the family that lived there and picked it up. In the moonlight she could only see the basic shapes, but even she could tell there were many smaller bodies there. More then one or two. Many children. Erik's sister was apparently one build to give children. That information was both ironic and sadistic all at once.

Hearing the soft click in the silent room of the safety being slid off, Magda didn't look up. "Are these your children?" She asked, "Is this your family?" Both questions were not ones she expected an answer too, so Magda didn't await a reply. Instead she tossed the frame down, and turned to face the couple who had came running. "What is it with guns?" Mutants didn't need gun. "Tuck your firearm away, I am not here to hurt you or yours."

Magda reached up to wave her finger toward the light, and the ones above the couple came on, keeping Magda half in shadow. "I am only here to talk. Send your husband to bed, and join me at your table." The authority was one she learned from Erik, and she didn't even know that she used it. Magda had learned to lead men, and be strong beside Erik . . . . but apparently he didn't think her such, for he he believed she was then he would have trusted her like she had assumed he did. "I am here to talk about Erik." Maybe that would tempt her into a conversation.

[ruth]

“Are these your children?”

A woman’s voice came from across the kitchen. Howard tensed at her side, and Ruth used her spare hand to grab his wrist. Their children were all at their own homes; Alicja was the closest, and she was set up in the next town over.

“What is it with guns,” the stranger questioned, almost to herself. “Tuck your firearm away; I am not here to hurt you or yours.”

“You broke into my home,” Ruth pointed out. “I have a good deal of experience that says otherwise.”

The lights suddenly turned back on, but only the ones nearest them. Their intruder was still half obscured in shadows. Ruth kept her stance tall and strong, keeping her gun aimed, ready to fire a warning shot if needed.

“I am only here to talk,” the stranger insisted. “Send your husband to bed and join me at your table.”

Howard shook his head slightly, moving to squeeze Ruth’s hand. As much as he knew she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself (it was one of the things he loved best about her), there was still a protective streak in him that hadn’t waned in roughly two decades of marriage.

Ruth had to admit she was a bit impressed; the stranger had a cadence to her tone that reminded Ruth of Erik. It was a strong, commanding tone, one that carried authority more than anything else. But to Ruth, it did nothing. She’d learned much the same from far different people.

“I am here to talk about Erik,” the stranger added, a last-ditch effort to lure Ruth into a conversation.

Well, it certainly got her attention. She squeezed Howard’s hand, before whispering for him to leave. He, of course, refused; it took a few words of reassurance to persuade him to give Ruth the authority on this matter.

“Fine. We’ll talk. But first, restore the power to my house; my husband has to be at work early tomorrow and he needs to get ready for bed,” Ruth replied with a tone that made no room for argument. The intruder might have experience with authority, but so did Ruth. And she had no qualms about drawing on it.  

[Magda Eisenhardt]

Magda heard the couple speaking, and took the time to look around the kitchen. Taking in the placement of everything, the small things left out or perhaps even put their for reasons. It was all very domestic. Alien to her. Both because of her current situation and her past. Her face reveled nothing, but she was taking it all in while the couple had their moment.

“Fine. We’ll talk. But first, restore the power to my house; my husband has to be at work early tomorrow and he needs to get ready for bed,” They must think her a fool. "I will give him the lights." She countered, ignoring the authority the other woman tried to give out as a way of asserting her own. "I will not return full power to this house until I leave. No phones, or radios and if you or he tires to signal or warn anyone I am here . . . . " Magda let the words hang for a moment while she finally turned toward Erik's secret sister, and stepped into the light. "Then I will burn this house to the ground with everyone in it."

Her tone wasn't harsh, and was more matter of fact then threatening. Magda wasn't going to go quietly. She had been at the hands of humans before and she'd die before allowing them to take her. Even if she had to do it herself.

Now that she was finally seeing the woman's face clearly, Magda could tell there was something familiar about it. Something she could not place, but perhaps it was because of her relation to Erik. Yet it almost felt like more. "Your his sister then." She began, not waiting for either of them to sit. Some conversations were best held standing. "The human loving dirty little secret . . . Well, well, well."

[ruth]

“I will give him the lights,” the stranger replied. “I will not return full power to this house until I leave. No phones or radios and if you or he tries to signal or warn anyone that I am here...then I will burn this house to the ground with everyone in it.”

Ruth narrowed her eyes but kept her gun level as the intruder stepped into the light. She look incredibly familiar, something about her making Ruth almost certain that she had known her once, a lifetime ago. She pushed the thoughts aside and slowly entered the kitchen, staying close to the drawers and cabinets. Keep every defense option within reach and quick access.

“So long as full power remains cut off to my house, the gun stays out and ready to fire,” Ruth informed her.

Considering ‘everyone’ only included her, the intruder, and Howard, Ruth wasn’t entirely concerned. They had good insurance, and Xavier’s staff adored her; she’d have no worries about where to stay or how to go about rebuilding. She was a woman who could gamble if the need arose. Ruth kept her fear safely locked away, fixing the stranger in as penetrating a gaze as she could manage. The woman wouldn’t be able to so much as blink without Ruth being aware.

She’d been little better than a child the last time she’d been faced by someone with powers she lacked, but she never forgot the feeling.

“You’re his sister, then,” the stranger said. “The human loving dirty little secret...Well, well, well.”

There was a short burst of anger at that. ‘Dirty little secret’ indeed. The human sister of Magneto, the notorious anti-human mutant leader—how many would kill her without a second thought because of his genocidal rhetoric? It was an uncomfortably familiar thought, one that had reawakened old nightmares Ruth had thought she’d long since put to rest.

“And who might you be? One of Magneto’s soldiers, I’m guessing. A bit surprising; Erik made it very clear that no one was meant to know about me.”

[Magda Eisenhardt]

“So long as full power remains cut off to my house, the gun stays out and ready to fire,” Magda all but rolled her eyes, but didn't demand the woman drop the gun. She wasn't afraid to die, so there was no fear of being shot. Magda's fear was in humans. In being taken. Being helpless. Feeling loss. Not in her own demise. "How very human of you." She didn't know what Ruth's powers were but she could only imagine that with Erik's strength in his that Ruth would be strong in her mutation as well. Yet she clung to the gun.

“And who might you be? One of Magneto’s soldiers, I’m guessing. A bit surprising; Erik made it very clear that no one was meant to know about me.” Magneto's. Not Erik's. Magda wondered at the name choice. Magneto was who he was to the world, but to the ones that knew him (herself, or Charles for an example) tended to call him Erik. Yet his own blood called him Magneto even after Magda had called him Erik.

Magda watched her for a moment, deciding on how to answer before she went with honestly. Her name wasn't public knowledge, the mutant name she used with the outside world was, but for the most part she just went by her name. Human news papers had called her The Witch, or even "The Witch at his side", the name taken from how her powers were yet undefined to them, and hard to understand. However, in the brotherhood she was simply Magda. "I am called Magda." Was all she said, waiting to see if the name held any meaning to the woman before her. Had Erik ever once uttered it, or spoken of her? Would the name mean anything to the stranger?

[ruth]

“How very human of you,” she commented when Ruth refused to put the gun away.

Ruth wasn’t certain if the woman had any idea if she was a mutant or not; it didn’t seem to be the kind of information Erik would willingly divulge, even to somebody he trusted. Whether that was out of some surviving scrap of familial affection or if it was instead the result of humiliation from having a human sister, Ruth didn’t know. Quite frankly, she didn’t want to know; to know meant that she couldn’t keep Magneto and Erik as two separate entities in her mind. Charles was willing and able to reconcile the two, but he had years and a lack of a childhood bond working to his advantage.

“I am called Magda,” the stranger answered, and Ruth faltered a moment.

Magda? She’d known a Magda once: a young, terrified girl who had brought Ruth the meager bits of food the guards had seen fit to give her. The half-gone pieces of food had barely been enough to keep her alive, but Ruth had been shrewd with what little energy it gave her. This couldn’t be the same girl, could it?

“Magda? I knew a Magda once,” she ventured, eyes searching the other woman’s face. “A long time ago, in Poland.”

She didn’t lower the gun, and she didn’t turn the safety back on, but she loosened her stance just a bit. If things went wrong, she was well within Charles’s range; he would know what happened to her as soon as it occurred.

[Magda Eisenhardt]

“Magda? I knew a Magda once,” Magda didn't bother showing a reaction. Her name wasn't common, but nor was it original. It was a name that was common with her people, but they were few in number. With how they were forced to be with everyone int he same camps, names had become even more common crossing cultures. “A long time ago, in Poland.” This was when she did pause, and look away from Ruth for a few moments as memories of that place assaulted her. Filled her up and made the panic level rise. While the other woman relaxed, Magda felt herself tense up. Reminders of that place.

Magda looked at the woman's face, and could almost see how she knew her. When Ruth said Poland, it helped connect where she knew her from. Magda could feel the connection to the camps, but was still trying to place the face. She had blocked so much of it out, yet she could almost see herself bringing a too thin, too pale, and too young of a girl some food. "Poland killed many people. Perhaps the girl you knew is dead." Because that girl that she had been. That frightened yet hopeful girl had died. She was now a solider. She was a fighter. "You were right when you called me a solider of Magneto's. That is who I am now." Her tone was almost forlorn, as she she regretted her own emotionally death, but had long accepted it. "It's who you should be too, for you have seen what happens when we fail to fight back."

[ruth]

The recognition was obvious on Magda’s face, bringing with it panic and fear, and Magda tensed from the memories. Ruth felt a small stab of pity for her; while she was glad Magda had survived, it was saddening to see that she’d been reduced to someone carrying out much the same rhetoric. It was the same emotion she had in regards to her brother.

“Poland killed many people,” Magda replied. “Perhaps the girl you knew is dead. You were right when you called me a soldier of Magneto’s. That is who I am now. It’s who you should be, too, for you have seen what happens when we fail to fight back.”

“I was a soldier back then,” Ruth replied. “Two uprisings, both with hardly any survivors. I know what it means to be a soldier, and that’s not what I see in Magneto’s ranks.”

All she saw were violent, jilted people who wanted to make the world suffer as they had. Those were not soldiers, not even comparable to the men and women and children who had given their lives back in Warsaw for the dream of freedom. They were more comparable to terrorists and mercenaries, and Ruth wanted no part in any of it.

“All I can see, Magda, is a would-be army that is so full of hatred that they want to exterminate an entire group of people for something they can’t control. And that will always be something I fight against.”

Genocidal rhetoric, the elimination of an entire group of people—be it in preemption or for the supposed sins of a few—for things they cannot control, it all smacked of the Third Reich and the implications of it all made Ruth jolt awake screaming each night, remembering Warsaw and Auschwitz. If Erik and Magda had their way, she would be right back in Auschwitz, chained up and violated. And this time, there would be no brother with strange powers unwittingly giving her the chance to escape.

[Magda Eisenhardt]

Ruth seemed to say the right words for Magda to hear them, really hear them. It was what brought her out of her slightly distant state to become her more clear minded solider, and more like herself. Would-be army. So full of hate. Fight against. This is why Erik hid his sister from the world. Because she was just blind as the rest of them. How could any mutant not fight for their right to live free and unafraid?

"I would have expected someone with your understanding of what was done before, to understand." Magda was comforting she knew Ruth from before, admitting it as best as she could. "You say you fought the last time, but not this time?" How could she not see them so linked? "If we do not fight back that is were we will be. That is were your children will end up. Bounded. Chained. Starved. Tested on as your own brother was. And yet you stand here fighting for them?"

"I was in their new camps. The ones they call labs now. Locked in a glass box while they tried to see what made me work. Erik saved me. He will lead us to a world where we do not have to live and fear and no more children are murdered because what they are. You would fight this? Fight your own freedom?"

[ruth]

“I would have expected someone with your understanding of what has been done before to understand,” Magda said, her bitter resolve obvious. “You say you fought the last time, but not this time? If we do not fight back, that is where we will be. That is where your children will end up. Bound. Chained. Starved. Tested on as your own brother was. And yet you stand here fight for them?”

Ruth swallowed, Magda’s words ringing true. She hadn’t even been eighteen when she’d taken in her children, and it had been an ordeal to deal with their traumas and challenges as well as her own. But they weren’t children anymore, and Ruth was a far cry from the seventeen-year-old ex-resistor she’d been when she’d stumbled back into Warsaw with five children at her heels.

“I was in their new camps,” Magda continued. “The ones they call labs now. Locked in a glass box while they tried to see what made me work. Erik saved me. He will lead us to a world were we do not have to live and fear and no more children are murdered because of what they are. You would fight this? Fight your own freedom?”

“You think no more children will die because of what they are? More children will be murdered if Erik gets his way, Magda! How many children out there are humans? How many have committed no crimes against you beyond being born human?”

Such was the problem with preemption; innocent children who bore no hatred or prejudice would only be brought up on hatred and fear of those who sought to destroy them.

“Three of my children are human, Magda,” Ruth added. “My mother and father were human. I am human.”

Magda spoke as though Ruth were a mutant. Sometimes, Ruth wished she was. Maybe if she were, Erik would treat her like his sister. Maybe he wouldn’t keep her a secret, too ashamed to reveal that he had a human relative, one he couldn’t bring himself to kill. The only blood relative of hers to survive Hitler’s Final Solution, and fate had seen fit to drive another wedge between them.

But it was nothing Ruth could change. She couldn’t re-write her genetic code to include that coveted mutated gene. All she could do was work to increase tolerance in those around her and save whomever she could. After all, 'whoever saves one life, saves the world entire.'