A/N: watch?v=ZTvhR0lEtZM
This particular autumn day is blazing hot.
Sweat is trickling down his temple when Erik goes for a walk, his jeans immaculate and shirt long sleeved. There are kids looking his way every now and then as he swaggers through the ideal American neighbourhood with all of its white fences, apple trees and silky green lawns. Dark glasses obscure his face partially from the narrow eyes of housewives following his silhouette from within the enclosure of their houses.
Raven is at his side, her true colours concealed by elegant paleness and wavy blond hair. Her dress accents every of her curves, its flowery pattern making her look far less menacing than she really is. She ignores him, as she mostly does these days, clacking her heels in resolute silence on the pavement. Their arms are linked at elbows, the wide brim of her summer hat grazing his shoulder with each step.
They will eventually have to see how Charles is doing. This is what Erik says, because what else is there to say.
Raven is silent, her pouty lips tightening when he glances sideways at her.
They go, step by step, under the piercing blue sky with no cloud in sight.
He meant to write Charles countless of times in the beginning, thought of typewriting the letter for him not to recognise the hand-writing, to assume both Raven and him wrote it. Perhaps even assume that it was actually only her who wrote it. But there was never enough time, there was never enough words to convey all he wanted to say, to show all that had to be shown. He asked her a few times if she wanted to do it, if she wanted to start the thing and even do it all herself. But she refused, a hard glint appearing in her eye. And he soon deemed the idea naïve, just like he always assumed Charles to be. Naïve and sweet, and pointless in the long run.
"Are you angry with me?" Erik mutters after a while, fixing the sleeve of his free arm. She pretends not to have heard, gazing at the gardens, the neighbourhood, anything but him. "Raven?" He takes a deep breath and stops in his track, their joined limbs pushing her to a halt as well. "I said-"
"What." She steps away onto the grass nearby, her arms folded. Her face is flushed, lips trembling ever so slightly as he takes into her. There is that known knot of tangled emotions forming in the pit of his stomach as Erik tries to come nearer, tries to console whatever fear she might share. But Raven is weary, she is skittish, she thinks the way he cannot understand and which she refuses to explain. "What do you want," she looks him up and down with an arched brow, a yellowish glint in her eye he might have missed if he blinked, "o, mighty Magneto?"
"Don't call me that in public." Erik looks around quickly, his jaw clenching.
"But that's your new name now, isn't it?" Raven spits out, her face contorting. "And mine's Mystique!" She looks at her hands, her manicured nails digging into the palm of her clenched fist. "Does Charles actually know?" Her eyes close for a moment, some of the tension seeming to go away as her shoulders slump down.
"About the name," he glances at her, his voice faltering at next words, "or the visit?"
Sometimes Erik is reminded just how much growing up together might resonate within a family, even a patch-work one. Raven might be doing it for purpose, she has done it before just to spite him, just to show how much they both miss Charles but know they cannot go back. Her eyes are as blue as an ocean for a brief moment, skin turning translucent white, cheekbones growing more prominent, hair darkening a few shades in the shadow of the hat's brim. Subtle enough not to have the passer-by stare, daring enough to silence him.
Charles is manipulative behind his naïve smile and his sister, no matter how different they might look, no matter how far away she chose to be from him, is still her brother's sister.
"Don't you dare use your tricks on me," Erik hisses, the trembling of his hands betraying him as he takes a step forward.
"Why" Raven purrs, her face Charles', the mannerism Charles' but the body still belonging to a twenty-year-old girl, the hips still swaying as she giggles, "why would this bother you, hmm?" Hand obscures her reddish, plumper now lips as the dimples of her smile grow. "You should not be bothered by this, my friend."
Charles came when he needed no more saviours, no more waiting for a miracle, no more hoping for a star he knew cannot be plucked from the night-sky. He came and he made him feel something he had not dared to feel for a long time. And now he was gone. Erik went and left him, just as left alone he felt after all the promises, after all the understanding, all the reassurances that there was indeed hope for having the broken pieces mended once again. He felt whole, he felt needed, he felt there was something more to life once again instead of just waiting for the others to accept him.
But now there is reality and no fantasy. There is him, Mystique and others on the same side. He is not alone. He will never be alone again.
"I always felt you were trouble" Raven sways to and fro on the soles of her shoes, Charles' and yet not Charles' expression hidden as she stares as the ground. "Right the day we all saw you with him" she mutters, her accent mixing and slurring into a deeper voice. "I told the others, keep away from Lensherr, he will be no good."
"You agreed to come with me." He narrows his eyes at her, resting his hands on his hips to stop their shaking. "It was your own choice."
"Was it mine to make?" She looks long and hard at him from under her brows, her whole silhouette tense, as she shoves her hands deep into pockets which were not on her dress before. Her whole attire has changed its look mid-through their talk, from white flowery print to aggressive reddish lines cutting through the fabric in random places, the neckline growing higher and more geometrical than before. Her eyes flash yellow, "Was it, Magneto?"
"I will not play your games, Raven" he whispers, the nearest postal box creaking audibly. She tenses upon hearing it, her default human features replacing Charles' lookalikes. "Stop blaming others for your own misfortune." They are nearly the same height as he stands directly opposite her, both of their breaths ghosting over the other's face. Her hair is reddish now, control slipping from her as he looks coolly into her yellowish eyes. He curls his lips with disgust, "You are neither my, nor his responsibility now."
Neither of them is rings unspoken as Raven takes a step back and stiffly fixes her hat. She later extends her arm for Erik to take in his once again, to keep up the façade of a happy couple on a walk.