Please review, lovely readers! I am very encouraged by your comments and favorites/subscriptions/etc. Who knows, something really cool, like, INSPIRATION, might hit! :)
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At first a sputtering, the rain has gradually grown into a downpour. It is very late, or early, in the small hours of the morning.
Raven creeps up to the massive double doors of the Westchester estate, dressed haphazardly in stolen clothing and possessing nothing else. Trembling, she stands for several minutes, able only to trace the intricate designs carved into the rich wood sightlessly with her eyes. Some rooms are brightly lit, indicating the wakefulness of the owners, but many are sleepily dark. She knows the latter belong to the younger children, courtesy of a curfew. Charles' study room is overflowing with warm gold light.
She breathes deeply and reaches forward with shaking hands. Just as her fingers graze the knob, the door opens, revealing Charles standing at the entrance. They stare at each other, and in her fear Raven is reading ominous rejection in his unsmiling face, when she notices dimly that he is carrying something. She flinches before she realizes that Charles has a large fluffy towel and robe flung over one arm and a steaming cup filled to the brim with deliciously dark cinnamon swirls, her favorite nighttime snack.
Taken aback, Raven tries to speak, but can only cough wetly. She wrings her hands in a helpless gesture.
Charles peers at her, cup of hot chocolate still outstretched. "I thought you'd be waiting out there all night." When she doesn't move, he makes an impatient "come hither" gesture. "Well, come in." He sighs. "Oh no, don't-"
Raven bursts into tears.
/
They sit in an uneasy silence in Charles' study. Rain continues to flow in translucent rivulets down the windows, but within the mansion all is warmth and comfort. Flames from the fireplace spark merrily, casting a golden glow on the massive, ornate furniture in the room.
It's a fanciful, lovely lie, Raven thinks as she huddles in an armchair conveniently located as close to the fire as possible. She has just come in for the moment from the cold world outside, and no matter how much she'd like to pretend that life is as rosy as it seems within, she knows it isn't. Not even a little bit.
Across the room, standing near his desk, Charles broods. Raven is naturally a master observer of habitual tells and character nuances, and now that Erik's glamour has worn off, she can bring herself to look at Charles without the red haze of anger. Her foster brother looks out the window at the drenched expanse of the Westchester grounds, eyes distant, fingers tapping on the pane.
After several minutes, she cannot bear the silence anymore. "Charles," she starts, apologies and regrets on her tongue.
For a long moment she thinks he is simply going to ignore her. "What," he says flatly. Before she can answer, he whirls around, the fury in his face frightening. "There is nothing you can say. You're sorry? Apology not accepted. You were wrong? Of course. You need me? I can see that."
Raven shudders with each terse word, knowing she deserves them all, and more.
Charles laughs shortly as he advances on her. There is something malevolently chilling in his gaze, the weight of unsatisfied rage at the betrayal with which the world has repaid his good intentions.
"You abandon me believe Erik over me why join with traitor bastard enemy why Magneto, work against me with him for every brick of peace I've laid the Brotherhood has torn away the foundations why, and then dare to come here to seek the sanctuary I've tried so hard to keep safe why why why why ?!
"Charles, please-!"
The walls begin to groan as an unseen force squeezes at their wooden ribs. Jagged cracks appear in the window glass, and rainwater begins to pour in to soak the carpet. Petrified, Raven can only stare as a frightfully cold wind rushes and, impossibly, upends the desk and slams it against the opposite wall, so close that Raven can feel its passing. The half-drunk cup drops from nerveless fingers and splatters before rolling to the grate of the fire. She falls to the ground, and despite knowing the irrationality of her actions, crawls behind the piano in a corner of the room.
You stupid little cockroach-you think you can hide from Me?
Sobbing, Raven shuts her eyes tightly. Here, locked in her head, especially here, she cannot get away. Charles is suddenly directly in front of her, coming closer and closer, passing through her, until she does not remember who she is, only knows that she has always lived in terror of the gleeful blue lights shining in the darkness, and that she must keep running-but she will never escape.
Raven jerks awake in the chair, gasping. The fire is still cheerfully burning. The pitter patter of rain hasn't stopped. The artfully arranged furniture hold their original placement. The mad Cheshire Cat grin cannot be erased from her mind, however.
Charles shows no reaction.
In fact, he hasn't even turned away from the window.
A few minutes pass before Raven can even get the breath to speak. She turns to the partially open study door as it creaks and a little girl's orange-pink nightgown reveals itself, and then the little girl herself makes an appearance.
"Professor, I called you," the child complains, a colorfully animated book hanging from her hand. "You didn't answer." She turns curious eyes on Raven. "Who's that?"
Charles startles. "I'm sorry, darling." He turns his full attention on her. "This is ... a guest."
'Oh." Jubilee loses interest in the stranger and returns to Charles. "I had a really scary dream. But it isn't just me, Professor," she says earnestly. "Everyone's awake." Indeed, now that Raven can hear over the pounding of her heart, the sound of murmurings and walking bare feet can be heard all about the house.
Charles blinks rapidly, as though rousing himself. "Oh! I'm terribly sorry," he murmurs, clearly alarmed. A series of rapid telepathic conversations take place, and in the meantime, presumably to create a sense of normalcy, Charles takes a seat on a couch, nodding and making sounds of reassurance.
When he finishes and the mansion is quiet once more, Jubilee still lingers at the door. "Um, Professor ... Can you read to me?" she asks shyly.
In response Charles smiles and opens his arms. Jubilee's eyes light up and she toddles toward the couch before climbing into his lap.
"I want to listen too-if that's okay," Raven says hastily before Charles can tell her to go away, to not interrupt this quiet time.
Charles looks at her thoughtfully for a moment, and then shrugs nonchalantly.
Raven sees her childhood with Charles as the telepath tucks the little girl close under his arm and dutifully reads a picture book with such perfect intonations and voice acting that there is no doubt he has performed this particular piece of literature many, many times. Jubilee is undeterred by the familiarity of the tale and excitedly finishes his sentences, frequently inserting her well-worn opinion on various personalities, sparks flying from her hands.