Not Alone - AU

Chapter Two

Charles awoke to a fierce pounding on his door and the less-than-hushed voice of his sister on the other side. Before he could even throw back the sheets and get out of bed, Raven burst through the door, nearly tripping over her skirt in her hurry to get into the room. It slammed shut behind her and she stared at him for a long moment, wide-eyed and frantic. He sat up, still bleary-eyed with sleep, and opened his mouth to speak, but she barreled over him.

"Why is there someone staying in the guest room on the second floor?"

"Good morning to you, too, Raven." he said groggily, rubbing the remnants of sleep from his eyes. "And wherever have you heard something like that?"

They'd managed to move the man from the carriage to the house and into one of the spare bedrooms without much fuss - the first maid who'd happened upon them had nearly had a fit, of course, but Charles had managed to coax her into staying quiet about the entire ordeal until he could broach the subject himself.

His mother and sister had already been in their separate rooms by the time he returned and Hank had hastily agreed to keep the evening under wraps. He should have seen the inevitable coming, though; from the look on his sister's face, it was obvious that someone had talked. And very quickly.

"The maids like to talk, remember?" She was too troublesome for her own good, Charles decided. He wondered what she knew, what sort of stories the staff had invented in a few hours' time. It was sure to be a highly exaggerated and terribly far from the truth and he hoped that his mother hadn't heard any of it yet. "I ran into one of them on the stairs this morning and she was more than willing to ask me about our visitor."

Charles sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. "Raven, he was -"

"Bleeding in an alleyway after a bar fight." His sister finished for him, arms crossed tightly over her chest. She studied his face, and Charles was suddenly uncomfortable from the severity of her gaze. "Charles, what were you thinking?"

"He was being attacked!" he said defensively. "I've no idea how he got into the alleyway; it could have been from any number of things! Hank and I never saw him leave the bar, we only happened upon him afterwards."

Raven quirked a brow and pursed her lips in a way so familiar to his mother that Charles could have cringed. "That's not what everyone else is saying." she said bluntly, as though the staff of the mansion had been present in the alleyway and he'd been somewhere else. "I heard that you and Hank found him stupidly drunk in the alleyway, bruised and bleeding because he was caught stealing. They also said that he's lower class."

Charles laughed, sharp and bitter. He should have known that it was only a matter of time before the subject of class was thrown into the mix of things; though many of the staff couldn't have been any better off financially than the man currently staying in their guest room, they were at least employed and in possession of a place of residence. "Considering the fact that he was unconscious before I had a chance to speak to him, Raven, I don't even know his name, much less what class he belongs to. And I hardly see how it matters."

"You haven't told Mother yet, have you?"

"Of course not." Charles said, looking at her critically. "And I would greatly appreciate it if you didn't tell her yet either."

Raven sighed, but her expression softened somewhat. "You're too kind for your own good, Charles." she said quietly, her hand wrapping around the door knob. "I only hope you know what you're doing."

All it took was the faint chirping of the birds outside to stir Erik from his slumber.

For a split second, he hadn't the foggiest of an idea where he was and how he got there, but then it all came rushing back to him. He wasn't lying on a cobblestone street, but rather a large bed. The tattered clothes he had been wearing were long gone and replaced with a more presentable ensemble.

Erik brought a hand to his face, rubbing at his tired eyes. It was the first time in a long time he had the opportunity to catch a decent amount of rest. His body no longer ached as horribly as it did the night before, but there was still a dull throb from the cut on his lower lip. Upon further inspection of his appearance, he took note that his hair was no longer in disarray, and his face had been properly shaven. In fact, the scent of soap lingered on his skin, thus allowing him to relish in what it felt like to have a shower after several days of going without.

Last night, he'd only caught a brief glimpse of what his 'savior' looked like. Through his blurred vision, there were only a few features that stuck out in his mind. He saw a top hat, the shiny leather shoes, and as he was being carried back to the carriage, he heard the gentle clinking of a pocket watch chain in his ears.

Erik heaved a sigh, and then swallowed thickly around the uncomfortable lump in his throat. Even though he was eternally grateful for what had been done, it was incredibly unnerving to wake up in a place unfamiliar to you. Living on the streets, he was able to familiarize himself with a lot of different areas. By this time, he knew what streets he should and should not go down, what bars he should and should not go into. What types of places he would and would not be accepted into.

He blamed his tired state for his miscalculation the previous night.

The slightest hint of nausea came to the forefront of his mind and he allowed himself to settle back down into the pillows. Not knowing the next time he would get an opportunity to sleep in an establishment as luxurious as this, Erik closed his eyes and permitted sleep to consume his body once more.

The dining room was decidedly silent when he entered a half hour later. While mealtimes had never truly been the most talkative times in the Xavier household, complete silence was somewhat unusual. Everyone was there, of course - his stepfather, Kurt, seated at the very head of the table, a newspaper spread in front of him and a rather bored expression on his face; his mother to the right of him, looking pinched and rather irked; his stepbrother, Cain, right beside his mother, his face already half-stuffed with toast and eggs; and Raven, seated alone on one side, looking as though she would have gladly allowed the rug beneath her feet to swallow her whole. She refused to look at him when he sat down beside her, but she was gripping her fork so tightly her knuckles were white, and Charles felt the knot that had appeared in the pit of his stomach last night return tenfold.

He should have known.

He trusted Raven, truly he did. Though there were a number of years between them, she had always been his constant companion and secret-keeper, and he had very few childhood memories that did not include her running along after him. She was a bright, headstrong girl - though insufferable at times, he couldn't help but admire such a trait - but true as that was, their mother had means of persuasion that bordered on being completely unethical.

"You returned home quite late last night, Charles." Sharon Xavier said mildly over the rim of her tea cup, but he could see the question she was burning to ask. "I trust you had a pleasant evening with the MacTaggert family?"

"I did."

"She's such a lovely girl, Moira. I'm quite fond of her." she continued, and Charles took a sip of his tea, dreading the conversation they were inevitably going to have in a matter of moments. "But you must tell me, Charles, what possibly kept you so long?"

Beside him, Raven's fork dropped to her plate with a jarring clatter; she scrambled to pick it up, murmuring quick apologies. Charles swallowed and glanced sideways, wondering just what his mother had said to Raven to make her explain their current house guest.

Charles shrugged, feigning an air of casualty. "One conversation led to another, you know. Time escaped us." He'd never been a terribly effective liar, and he cringed when his mother narrowed her eyes at him.

"That's quite interesting, Charles." she said slowly. "Because I've heard otherwise."

"Really?"

She nodded and smiled, but the edges were sharp. "Really. I've heard otherwise from quite a number of people, actually. Including dear Raven."

Even his stepfather had looked up by now, the newspaper and coffee forgotten beside him. Raven still had her head down, blonde curls hiding her face. He waited for his mother to continue, because he knew he was caught.

"Imagine my surprise when I awoke this morning, Charles, and discovered from one of the maids that we had a guest arrive in the middle of the night." Mrs. Xavier began coolly. "And that this guest, apparently, arrived in a less than desirable condition and had no relation or acquaintance with anyone in the household. I certainly did not want to believe it, as you can very well imagine, and I would have dismissed it as pure folly had your sister not informed me otherwise."

There was a lengthy, uncomfortable pause, during which Charles opened his mouth to speak and was again interrupted.

"Your sister was kind enough to relay to me the conversation that you two had earlier this morning." Mrs. Xavier said, and he could hear the anger building in her voice. "She's told me that not only did you bring home a guest, but that this guest was found in an alleyway in the city. I must say, Charles, I thought you were above making such stupid decisions."

"He was the victim of some sort of attack. Hank and I were passing by when we saw what was happening. Surely you aren't suggesting that I should have left him there." Charles argued, already tired.

"Charles," his mother said, as if he were a child again and not an adult capable of making his own decisions, "if this man was being attacked, he must be some sort of trouble."

"Trouble? Honestly, Mother."

"Do you know anything about this man, Charles? Do you know his name? His family? His background?" The anger was there in a sharp burst. "Do you know anything of his situation? He could be a criminal off the streets for all you know, Charles, and you have willingly allowed him into our home."

It was true, and that was perhaps the most frustrating thing of all: he knew nothing of the man he'd rescued last night. He could have been anyone, as his mother had said, but Charles wanted to believe otherwise. "I couldn't leave him." he said again.

"Your inability to make a rational decision astounds me, Charles." Mrs. Xavier said. "Bringing home a man in an alleyway like a stray pet. It's quite appalling."

He'd had enough. Tossing his napkin onto the untouched plate of food in front of him, he rose quickly from his chair, jaw clenched in frustration. The conversation wasn't over, he knew, but he'd had quite enough for the time being. He should've known that the focus would not center on the fact that he'd saved someone from an extremely unfortunate situation - he wasn't entirely sure what to call last night, really - but on the identity, background, and situation of the person. In his mother's eyes, everything else was of very little importance.

"Charles -," Raven sounded completely miserable and on the verge of tears, reaching out to grab his wrist. He side-stepped her hand easily - he wasn't angry with her, couldn't be angry with her, but he couldn't bring himself to speak to her right now either - and moved to the door, angrier than he'd been in quite a while.

"I think I've had enough of breakfast, thank you." he said tightly, turning on his heel and leaving his family sitting in the dining room, momentarily stunned into the same silence he'd found them in.

-End of Chapter Two-