AN: Okay, so it's important to remember that I've effectively ignored most - if not all - of the X-Men timeline. And everyone's canon ages are completely moot. Also, I think it's important to note that I've chosen to use X-Men: First Class as my inspiration, so when you picture the characters, picture those actors haha.

"I want out," was the first thing Emily said when Clyde answered the phone, not waiting for him to speak. She wasn't normally so abrupt, but she knew that if she gave him the chance he'd attempt to talk her out of this, so she didn't give him the opportunity.

"Emily? What the bloody hell are you on about?" he grumbled sleepily. She hadn't bothered to wait until morning to call and in hindsight, he probably would've been in a better mood if she had, but it was too late for that now.

"You promised me that when I was ready to get out, you'd make that happen," she continued as if she hadn't heard his griping. "I'm ready to go home."

He groaned wearily, realizing she wasn't about to let this go and he wasn't going to get back to sleep any time soon. Truthfully, he'd been expecting this day and yet part of him had hoped it wouldn't come. "Em..." he started, voice taking on a warning tone. "The work you're doing..."

She didn't let him finish, didn't want to hear his lecture, already knew exactly what he'd say. "I've been doing this job for five years, I worked for you for six before that... I'm tired. I want to go home," she repeated. "I want to see him."

"Emily, he's dangerous. You should know that better than anyone."

"He doesn't want to fight anyone," she insisted, angry on his behalf. "He only wants to protect them. You know that."

"Just because he hasn't hurt you yet, doesn't mean he won't..." Clyde warned, bold because he was safe from her wrath at the other end of the phone line.

"If you're not going to help me, I'll do it myself," she snapped. "Do what you promised me or stay out of my way..." Then, she hung up the phone before he could reply.

It figured that Clyde was too much of a coward to come to her himself, sending Sean to do his dirty work... She'd always liked Sean better anyway, so she didn't exactly mind his presence – it meant she didn't have to get in a bitching match with Clyde.

She hadn't seen Sean in years – she couldn't help but think he looked weary, like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. (She would later wonder if that was because of her...)

"We're breaking Ian Doyle out of prison," Sean said, point blank as she settled across from him looking perhaps a little confused at his sudden reappearance in her life.

She stared at him in open-mouthed confusion for several long moments, unable to form a coherent thought in the face of what had to be the worst idea she'd ever heard. "Wh-why?" she stammered, glad she didn't have a drink in her hand or she surely would have dropped and shattered it.

"He's going to help get you out," Sean explained without explaining anything at all, lest someone overhear.

"Help me?" she repeated incredulously. "He wants me dead!"


Emily stared at him like he'd lost his mind, waiting for some kind of explanation that was the least bit reasonable.

"We're going to fake your death," Sean whispered furtively, "We're getting you out."