Charles had withdrawn into his bedroom, refused to speak to Madeline or Hank, refused to even discuss the attack on the government facility. Raven had stalked off as soon as she'd been told, clearly in a towering fury. She had returned some time later, much calmer, and gone to Charles's room. Madeline had followed, expecting to have to calm the blue girl down when her brother refused to admit her too.
But Raven had knocked on the door and said, in a voice that brooked no argument:
"Charles. Let me in. We need to talk."
There was a long silence, then the clink of a bottle rolling across the floor.
"Charles, now."
Another pause, and then the lock had clicked and Raven had marched in, with an apologetic look at Madeline as she pulled the door shut behind her.
Madeline knew she ought to leave. But she was out of her mind with worry – about Charles, and about Erik too. The look of betrayal she had seen in Charles's eyes had been too raw, too angry. She wanted to be sure he wasn't planning on doing anything drastic in retaliation.
So she lingered by the door, grateful for the blood she'd had that morning that allowed her to clearly hear what was said. She breathed softly through her nose and shut her eyes, the scents that only she could detect forming a mental picture of what was going on inside – the sudden tang of whiskey as Charles unsteadily uncorked another bottle, Raven's anxiety prickling sweat under her arms as she paced back and forth across the musty old carpet.
After a long pause, Charles spoke in a low, dead voice.
"They murdered all those people, Raven. Innocent people. And I let it happen. I should have known what he was capable of, should have put a stop to it long ago. But I was too weak. Erik was right; I was too weak to use my powers to their full extent, too soft to see him for what he truly is, and now those men and women are dead, their families are grieving, because I was too afraid to do what had to be done when I had the chance." He stopped, and Madeline clearly heard the clink of the glass against his teeth, the moist, desperate gulp as he tipped the bottle to his lips, seeking redemption in the burn of the alcohol along his throat.
"You've got this all wrong, Charles. I know it looks bad, but you don't have all the facts. Those people were no innocents. That place wasn't a government hospital; it was a military prison, a secret facility for the detention of mutants. This is important stuff, Charles. We knew that some private companies were running outfits like this – Trask Industries, independents like Maddy's Fiskel. But this was state-sponsored torture, Charles. The CIA haven't been idly sitting by since they found out about us. They've been rounding mutants up, trying to find out more about us, trying to-"
"Stop!" Charles's shout cut through Raven's increasingly desperate monologue. "How do you know all this? Have you- have you spoken to-" He couldn't even say his former lover's name, Maddy realised with a wince of pity. The pain, the betrayal, was too deep.
Raven's voice softened. She even sounded a little sheepish. Madeline heard the soft sound of her sinking down to sit on Charles's bed.
"No. No, Charles, I haven't spoken to Erik. We don't know where he is, remember? You know I would never have kept it from you if I knew how to get hold of him. I've been speaking to Azazel."
Charles's shocked silence lasted for almost a full minute. Madeline cringed. She had known for sure about Mystique and Azazel after the night with Erik and the blood. She had been somewhat pleased at the time – after all, if the Russian could help Raven to get over Hank, her own friendship with the blue girl stood a better chance of not fracturing. But she knew Charles wouldn't see it that way.
"Azazel," he said now, as if the name didn't make sense to him. He sounded like a man turning a puzzle piece in his hand, trying to figure out where it fit. "You – and Azazel?! – are…"
Raven must have nodded; Charles let out a great whoosh of breath, as if he had been struck a blow in the mid-section.
"How long?"
The coldness in Charles's voice made Madeline shiver. She could only imagine how it made Raven feel. She wasn't remotely surprised to hear the beginnings of defensiveness in the other girl's response – and to Raven, the best defense was always a good offense.
"A few months. Since your procedure failed. I was unhappy; he was – he was there. But things are different now; I can't keep on pretending it's nothing, not even to myself, and certainly not to you."
Charles sucked in air through his teeth. He had obviously been expecting a different answer, a less significant one. A casual fling, a foolish experiment. A liaison of several months was something altogether else.
"What are you telling me? That you're in love with him?" Madeline flinched at the scorn in his voice. Raven would not take kindly to being spoken to in that way, even by Charles. He would realize that himself if he wasn't so miserable, so drunk.
"I don't know what it is I'm in with him Charles. But I'm in it, and I don't feel right lying to you about it anymore. I don't have to justify myself to you."
The words seemed to work on Charles's anger like oil on a naked flame. He exploded sarcastically.
"What do you expect me to say, Raven? 'Congratulations, we must have your savage round for tea'?"
Raven's voice was ominously cold.
"Don't talk about him like that. Don't ever."
Maddy heard the minute squeak of Charles's wheels as he spun away, could imagine him throwing up his hands with drunken expansiveness.
"Oh, I'm very sorry Raven, I didn't mean to disrespect the murderer you've chosen to take into your bed! My God. I mean, you've picked some pretty ghastly fellows in the past, but this just about takes the cake."
Raven snapped accusingly back:
"You forgave him. You invited him into our home."
"But I never forgot what he is! We needed peace; and we needed his skills. We didn't need for you to become infatuated with him! God damn it, Raven, this is not a game! He's a killer, you've always known that – how could you be so stupid as to let yourself be seduced by him?"
Raven's heels hit the carpet with a thump as she sprang to her feet.
"Charles, you are fucking drunk. If you weren't, then you'd realize that you are not just talking about me here."
"What on earth do you mean?"
"Well what about Erik, Charles? You knew he was a murderer and worse the day you met him – but you fell in love with him anyway, didn't you?"
Maddy put her hand over her mouth. The silence with which Charles met this broadside was worse than any angry retort he could have made. After a moment, Raven said his name, began to speak – to apologise, or to accuse? – but Charles cut her off coldly.
"This ends now. You won't see Azazel again, do you understand? Not after what he's done today. He's too dangerous."
"I'm not a child any more, Charles. You can't tell me what to do," Raven said mutinously. Charles's retort was bitter, laced with hurt.
"Oh no, of course I can't. After all, you've had what you needed out of me, haven't you? Now you don't need a home, a family, protection. Now you're enough all on your own, correct?"
"Not on my own." Raven left the rest unsaid, but her implication was clear. Charles sighed, his anger wavering, warped with worry.
"If you believe that, then you are still a bloody child. And if you can't learn from my mistake, you're more naïve than ever I have been. You can't trust Azazel, Raven; it doesn't matter what he's promised you. He can't change what he is. Believe me, I know what I'm talking about."
"Well maybe I don't want him to!" Raven yelled. Then she took a deep breath, spoke again more softly but with growing passion.
"You've not listened to me, Charles. The government is rounding our kind up, experimenting on us, killing us. You don't want a war? Well they've already begun one. Whatever Erik and Azazel have done, they've done for us – for mutants. And Erik won't be the only one who would prefer to strike back now instead of waiting for them to come knocking at their door. There are already others rallying to him; most of the mutants they rescued today are planning to join the fight. Sooner or later, Charles, we're all going to have to pick a side – are you sure you're on the right one? Are you really sure?"
Charles was silent for a long time. And then, with dawning hurt, he said:
"You're going to go to him, aren't you. It's what you want. I can feel it."
Raven's voice was choked.
"You promised you would never read my mind."
Charles sighed.
"We both promised each other a great many things, I'm afraid. I'm sorry. I promised to keep out of your head; you promised me you'd always be there for me. But your heart's already somewhere else. And you always follow your heart, Raven. It's what I love most about you. You haven't got it in you to ignore it. Not even for me. So you might as well go now; it's inevitable that you will. You shouldn't fight it out of pity."
Raven had begun to cry, mewling, childish sobs that Maddy could hardly believe could come out of the ebullient, independent blue girl.
"Stop pushing everyone away, Charles. This is still my home; you're still my brother. But what Erik's doing is important; and I need what I have with Azazel. Don't make me have to choose!"
Charles's voice was hitching too as he replied.
"But it is a choice, Raven. It's the most fundamental choice. Peace or war. Life or death. Love or hate. Erik thinks that choice was made for him when he was born a mutant, and life has done precious little to disabuse him of that error; even all the love I tried to give him wasn't enough. But you know better, Raven. You've seen more in life of love and hope than anger and pain; this is a choice. And you are choosing wrong!"
Madeline realised the blood tears were streaming silently down her face at the plaintive tone in Charles's voice. She smeared them away, staining the backs of her hands.
There was a creaking noise behind the door, and then for a while no sound but muffled sobs – she felt certain Raven had fallen to her knees next to Charles, and the two were embracing.
After a few minutes, she heard Raven's footsteps as she crossed to the door. Madeline darted around a corner, thankful for her superhuman speed as the handle turned and Raven appeared in the oblong of dim light that cut across the hall. The older girl turned in the doorway, pushing tears impatiently from her eyes.
"Charles; we all need you so badly. I need you. Erik needs you. Why can't you see that, stop destroying yourself, join us?"
Charles wheeled to the door. He looked haggard, Madeline thought, and the whiskey bottle was still clutched in his right hand.
"I never left you, Raven. Or Erik. It's you who are leaving me. And you're going to do our people far more harm than good. I pray one day you'll see that, and come home. I only hope that happens before it's too late, before you've gone too far down this dark path to ever find your way back."
Raven hung her head at his words, closed her eyes.
"And Erik?"
Charles sighed.
"It's already too late for Erik and I. It was too late long before we ever met. It's not too late for you, Raven; whenever you're about to do something terrible, just remember that."
Raven opened her eyes, reached out a hand. Charles took it, held it tightly for a minute, then dropped it listlessly. Raven cupped his cheek.
"I love you." Charles gave her a tragic smile.
"Not enough, my dear. Not enough. Now go, please. I don't think I can bear it any more."
Raven dropped her hand, gave a muffled sob, and then whirled on her heel and marched jerkily down the hall towards her room. Charles sat for a moment in the hall, his eyes clenched shut, his shoulders heaving, his hands in fists. Madeline ached for him, but couldn't bring herself to intrude as he wrestled with a pain she could remember all too well herself, the agony of losing a sister to forces beyond his control.
Eventually, he wheeled back into his room, slamming the door behind him with a bang. She heard a sob, a choking, deep swallow as he pulled at the whiskey once again, and then a smash of glass as the now empty bottle hit the wall. Sobbing hard herself now, she ran through the mansion, toward the lab.