The tense air between Charles and I was ebbing and flowing like the tide, leaving me wobbling and unsteady. One minute he couldn't touch me enough, the next he wouldn't look me in the eye. Every time I thought we were getting closer he would pull away and we'd go right back to where we were before. It was infinitely frustrating, all the more so because I knew in the back of my mind that Charles' skittishness was my fault.

I trailed a few steps behind him as we walked the three blocks to Asteroid M, keeping my eyes fixed on the hunch of his shoulders under the old jacket. There wasn't much of a crowd, most people solidly at work on a Friday before noon, but I didn't want to risk losing sight of Charles for even a second. I felt as if I let my guard down even a little he would slip through my fingers. It wasn't a pleasant feeling.

Charles paused outside the small café's window, freezing in mid-step. I followed his gaze through the fingerprint-smudged glass. Asteroid M had started gathering the lunch crowd, and there were a few diners eating at the scattered tables. I looked past them, catching sight of a girl sitting at the counter. Her back was to us, but the blonde ringlets cascading down her back were instantly recognizable, even though the last time I had seen her the distinctive hair had been snipped into a short bob. I could feel Charles tense beside me, and I nudged him gently with a hand on his shoulder.

"Come on. Now or never." I muttered. He stared at her, his face a nervous mask.

"This is a bad idea. I should have never come." He looked up at me. "What if she just wants to tell me what a horrible person I am? What if Kurt put her up to it?"

"What if she's actually in trouble?" I countered. "She's your sister, Charles. You can't back out and leave her on her own, she needs you."

That struck a chord. Charles' blue eyes flashed and he nodded once, short and sharp, before looking away from me and pushing the door open. The bell rang hollowly in the café, which was silent save for the steady drip of a percolating pot of coffee. Raven glanced up from her lap, her eyes meeting Charles' as he stood in the doorway awkwardly. Her mouth opened and shut, her hands fluttering up from where they had been resting on her stomach to land flat on the counter. Beside me, Charles looked ready to bolt.

Raven launched off the swiveling stool and threw herself bodily at her brother, enveloping him in a tight hug. Charles let out a winded noise of surprise, stumbling back at the sudden weight of his sister.

"Oh my God, Charles!" She cried, burying her face in his shoulder. "I didn't think you would come!"

He wrapped his arms around her cautiously. "Of course I came, Raven, don't be ridiculous…" I raised one eyebrow and he glared at me over her shaking shoulder. "You're my sister, I wouldn't just- oh Raven, don't cry, please…"

She pulled back, wiping her face on her long sleeve. She was wearing a heavy brown wool coat and a plain blue dress that seemed a bit too tight around the middle, as if she had gained weight. Her face had always been round though, even three years ago, so it was hard to tell if I was just imagining it. She sniffed, eyes puffy and rimmed with red, and moved to sit back down. Charles grabbed her elbow gently and shook his head, taking her purse in his free hand.

"No, we'll sit somewhere more comfortable. Here, there's a booth…"

I watched as Charles led his sister over to the corner of the restaurant, trailing behind them and trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. I settled in next to Charles as Raven sat down across from us, fiddling with the strap of her leather bag. Charles reached out and took her hand, stilling it under his own.

"Raven, you remember Erik Lensherr." He said.

She nodded. "How could I forget?" Glancing down, she frowned. "What happened to your hand?"

Everyone's gaze darted down to look at the sibling's twined fingers. Charles' hands were indeed an odd contrast to Raven's- where her nails were buffed and manicured, his were bitten short and ragged, where her skin was smooth and unblemished his was spotted with scrapes and the painful beginnings of calluses. Instead of pulling away like I expected him to do, he squeezed her palm tightly, reassuringly.

"Nothing happened. I'm just still not used to hard work, yet. Would you know, washing dishes actually isn't as easy as it looks?" He smiled hesitantly, as if he wasn't sure he was allowed to make jokes. To his relief (and mine), Raven laughed.

"Washing dishes? Are you working in a diner?" She teased.

The atmosphere seemed to grow lighter as Charles shook his head and half-grinned. "Hardly. I'm a photographer now." He gestured to the camera around his neck. Raven reached out to touch it lightly, making sure that her stomach didn't bump against the tabletop.

"You always did have an eye for art."

He looked dubious and shrugged. "If you say so."

Raven turned back to me, her hand still locked with Charles' and her expression growing cooler and more closed off as she looked me over. "So, Erik." She asked. "What brings you back to town?"

"Oh, you know. It's easy for a man to get homesick in a world this big."

Her lips thinned like she wanted to say something else, but she flitted her eyes back to Charles and nodded instead. "So my brother told you that I need help, then."

"He did, yes." In the background Alison, the waitress from earlier, popped her bubblegum and a police car drove by, its' siren blaring, but everything seemed to have narrowed down to just the three of us sitting at that one little table.

"Can you help me?" Raven inquired.

"I helped Charles before. Found you, didn't we?"

She huffed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Right, and you must know all about missing persons, huh?"

I didn't overlook the contempt threaded through her voice but I willed myself not to be bothered by it. Charles frowned at her disapprovingly. "Raven!"

She broke eye contact with a sigh, holding up her hands. "Sorry. I didn't mean to sound ungrateful; I'm just sort of emotional right now.

"I understand. Don't apologize, it's a valid criticism." I toyed with a fork, the curved prongs smooth under my touch. The disassembled cutlery lay neatly on the table, the thin paper napkin missing. Alison hadn't finished setting the table before we sat down and she looked rather spiteful, which was probably why she hadn't come over yet with the menus. Either that or she recognized Charles and I from earlier and was avoiding us. My stomach growled, and I wished I hadn't scared her away during breakfast.

I ignored my hunger and turned my attention back to Raven and Charles' hushed conversation. The blonde shook her head.

"-I just didn't know who to turn to." She sounded tearful. "I'm all alone. I couldn't go to the police because Azazel's still technically wanted in association with Shaw. Kurt doesn't even know that I was seeing Azazel. No one did! Well, except for Hank."

"Hank?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Hank McCoy." Raven clarified. "He's a detective on the force."

"You remember, Erik, he was working on the Shaw case with Moira." Charles nudged my arm. "The one with the glasses."

I did remember. "Wasn't he just an officer?"

"He got a promotion about a year ago." Raven sounded proud. "He's very smart."

"Okay, but what does he have to with anything?"

"He's courting Raven." Charles whispered approvingly. His sister flushed in embarrassment and squirmed in her seat.

"He's not courting me, Charles, for Christ's sake!" She hissed. "We're just friend! And anyway, if there was any romance between us I certainly wouldn't have been telling him about…" She made a vague hand gesture, "Azazel and I."

"I'm still surprised about the existence of 'Azazel and I'." Charles said, bracketing his fingers. "I can't say I approve. At all, actually."

Raven groaned. "Don't be like that."

"I have every right to be 'like that'!" Charles glowered. "You're my baby sister, and I don't particularly like the idea of you shacking up with a crook, especially one who held you captive for nearly a week and almost got Erik and I killed, may I remind you!"

She rolled her eyes. "Jesus, you make it sound so illicit!"

"It WAS illicit! You've been sneaking around with this man- who might I add is at LEAST ten years older than you AND a wanted criminal- like some sort of love-struck teenager! For all I know he's been climbing your balcony and hiding in the closet when the maids interrupt! You're nearly twenty-four year old, you can't act like a child anymore!"

"Then stop treating me like one!" Raven snapped, slamming her hand down on the table. Alison looked up from her glossy magazine and glared in our general direction. A few other diners glanced at us nervously before returning to their food. Raven's face was flushed and screwed up in anger, her skin looking slightly blue under the pale artificial lights. "Goddammit, Charles, did you come here to lecture me or to help me? I came here because I need you, but if you're not willing to even listen to me I'm going to walk out that door and find someone else!"

"He tried to kill us." Charles argued, "He helped Shaw hold you captive. How can you say that you were in love with him?"

Raven held his gaze, her chin raised defensively. "People can change a lot, Charles."

"Yes, I'd know." He said bitterly, his voice rising in volume. "But it looks to me like you haven't changed at all. You're still wrapped up naively in your own little girl world!"

Raven opened her mouth like she was going to yell something back, but closed it soundlessly. They glared at each other without speaking, the music from the jukebox and the chatter of the diners around us bleeding in to fill the quiet. She stared straight at Charles, and when she spoke her voice was eerily calm and unwavering.

"I'm pregnant."

There was a moment where no one said anything. The three of us sat there, Charles and I shocked into silence and Raven's gaze locked with her brother's. Then suddenly her carefully stoic face crumpled and her shoulders started to heave with deep, wracking sobs. Charles leapt up like the booth was on fire and slid in next to Raven, wrapping his arms around her shaking body and rocking her back and forth.

"Oh God." He muttered into her hair as she cried against his chest. "Oh God, Raven, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I never would have said those things, oh Raven, why didn't you say…"

"It's his." She gasped. "It's Azazel's, Charles, and now he's gone and I don't know what to do!"

"We'll find him." Charles hugged her tightly, stroking her hair. For a second I caught a glimpse of the two siblings like they might have been years ago, as children, hiding in Charles' room from an angry, drunk stepfather and a violent stepbrother. "I'm sorry, Raven, and I promise you we will find him."