Sometimes Charles forgets that Mystique-Raven-is his sister.
It starts out as a sharp jolt of clarity, and then fades into the back of his mind where he shoves all other things that he simply cannot think about, and it resurfaces whenever he sees her again, her eyes glowing with something he's not sure he wants to understand, her blue skin bare, the intricate scales therein raised across her flesh-and her smile, her smile, is the thing that damn near breaks him.
The loving grin his Raven so often sent his way is gone, replaced with such a wicked thing of twisted pride and hatred that he isn't able to recognize the trace of affection it carries when she gives that smile to Erik, like a careful gift that he barely takes notice of.
And Erik-Magneto-looks at her like she's a goddess, his eyes roaming over her body with a glint of something akin to love-but he's lost the ability to love.
And so, the years move on, oblivious to the strain and heartache they force upon Charles, and he takes it as best he can-with the knowledge that Erik is not Erik and that Raven is not Raven, though he still can't stop his stupid, stupid habits from pushing the familiar names from his mouth before his mind can halt them, and he flinches at the flare of rage he sees in Raven's glowing eyes.
The next time he calls her that, he acts like he doesn't care when she looks at him no differently, her face completely void of any and all emotion, and in that one moment, she isn't anything.
Charles doesn't call her Raven ever again.
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