notsogroovy | (no subject)

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There were days when Raven didn't like working in the restaurant for long hours. She enjoyed seeing all the people and occasionally talking to the regulars, but it was when she got to the end of the night that she started having problems. Most days were all right, but then there were the days when it was like she was asleep standing up. Those were the awkward nights when she had to watch herself very carefully for fear that she would be just tired enough to slip.

Tonight was one of those nights and, once her shift was over, she amused herself by talking to Tom, one of her fellow waiters. It kept her awake and thinking and it didn't hurt that he was cute. She'd just talk and flirt with him for the few minutes it would take for Charles to show up and if she slipped him her number, then it wasn't like Charles would ever really know. Unless he happened to pick up.

"Maybe I'd better get yours instead," she told him. The last thing she wanted to do was have Charles looking over her shoulder as she tried to date. She loved him to death, but she could only pine for so long. She reached out to take his number and yanked her hand back when she noticed that the skin underneath her fingernails was blue. She tried to fight the panic. That would only make it worse. She managed to mutter some kind of excuse, but all Tom gave her was a confused and unhappy look. She cursed herself and looked around for Charles, hoping he'd come in the time she'd taken to make an idiot of herself.

"Please be here, please be here."

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Charles is running a little later than usual, and when he finally enters the restaurant he wears an expression of exhaustion, flustered after dashing from one place to another, and the black coat fastened tight around himself is littered with dark splashes where the rain outside has begun to soak in from the heavens opening up on him.

But the second that he locates Raven, Charles makes a beeline for her, instantly cheering both outside and in at the mere sight of a familiar face. Family.

"Raven," he greets with a genuine smile, though glancing over her shoulder at the miffed boy watching on, and steps in, hands briefly taking hold of her shoulders as he pulls her in for a quick hug. "I am so sorry that I'm late, love, I needed a word with one of the professors, but tracking them down can be a nightmare sometimes. Are you all right? You're looking rather pale." He reaches out and presses the back of his hand against her forehead. "I do hope that you're not coming down with something."

Edited 2011-09-05 00:33 (UTC)

"I am feeling a little blue," she says, swatting his hand away from her forehead. She's not feeling sick, just out of sorts and she looks at Tom with regret in her eyes. She wants that. She wants a relationships, but she always manages to mess it up too soon. There have been times when she's managed to get to making out with a boy before the fluttering feeling in her stomach turns into something more dangerous than mere butterflies.

She grabs her jacket, buttons it, and ties the sash around her waist.

"Can we get out of here now?" She wraps one arm around his waist and slides her hand into his coat pocket, placing the other hand in her own pocket. "Please?"

The mere mention of the colour blue never fails to make Charles flinch, but sensing the panic flowing from Raven in overwhelming waves to add to the seemingly throw-away comment, he catches up quick.

"Yes, of course," he assures her, pulling her close in a protective hold with an arm held firmly around her back. He waits until the cool night air hits them outside, the shelter above the restaurant door shielding them momentarily from the rain, and he checks to see that they are alone, voice lowering. "What on earth happened in there? If that young man did something to make you uncomfortable, you can tell me." But that isn't the only thing that worries him, the idea that she slipped up with an eyewitness nags at his thoughts. "Unless there's something else the matter?"

Raven lowers her head. "It's not his fault," she says immediately. "He didn't do anything wrong. It's all me. It's always me. But other than that, I don't want to talk about it." The last thing she wants to tell Charles about is her love life or the fact that she can't seem to have one. After all, who knows what he gets up to with those girls at the pub? It's not something she thinks a lot about. Not something that she ever wants to have images of running around in her head.

Especially after seeing her flinch.

The countenance that Charles wears is enough to express the lack of satisfaction that this vague and self-deprecating explanation brings him, but there are somethings about having a younger sister that make it awkward for him to pry too deeply, especially now that she's no longer the small child he first met. He can always cheat, of course, steal a peek into the depths of her mind and check to see for himself, but he's already broken far too many promises without adding to the list any further.

"Sometimes I truly do wonder what it is that goes through that mind of yours," he admits, guiding them into the side of the path closest to the passing buildings that offer a little amount of shelter. "I do hope that you're being careful, Raven, you ought to know by now how important it is that we maintain a low profile."

"A date, Charles. I was trying to get his number. Actually, I was going to give him mine until I realized it would be embarrassing if you picked up and then I offered to give him mine. That was when the skin under my fingernails turned blue." The smile she gives him has more than a hint of bitterness to it. "But I suppose that the only man in my life is going to be you."

She can't even get a man's hand under her shirt without something going wrong.

"Have you stopped wondering or should I go on?"

The pace of walking slows, and Charles looks something close to a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing as he tries to reach out and grab hold of one train of thought in order to respond accordingly. He knows that he can overreact, and he also knows, deep-down, that the excuses he uses to justify it aren't going to fly forever. But for now they will do.

"What on earth is wrong with you?" he asks with the tone of disapproval, trying to keep his voice as low as possible while still speaking loud enough to be heard. "The last thing that we need is for random young men to come and go. I haven't spent all of this time trying to protect us, to keep our home a secret, so that you can throw it all away for nothing more than a date." He glances back towards the restaurant, as if he can still see the gormless looking boy from where they stand out in the cold street, and he narrows his eyes. "It's too much of a risk."

He inhales deeply, picking up a little speed, because the sooner they are indoors and out of sight the better. "Perhaps we ought to reconsider how wise it is for you to be working such a stressful job in your...condition."

"What's wrong with me? Oh, that's rich, Charles. How many girls do you hit on a night when we go out to the pub?" When he turns to look back, she grabs his arm and yanks him back around harshly. "Don't think I'm going to let you get away with a double standard."

There are times that she thinks Charles can be a real idiot. There are times when she thinks he can be non-deliberately cruel. This is probably one of the worse examples of that. He's treating her like some kind of leper that needs to be hidden away. He's talking about her quitting her job like it's something she can control. He's treating her like she's...

She yanks away from him. "You're treating me like I'm pregnant or like I have some kind of disease. My 'condition'. You can't just tell me what to do, Charles."

Over their younger years, Charles has built up a tolerance of violence, even on a smaller level like this, and allows himself to yield to it, to be dragged to the side as if he were nothing more than a rag-doll with only the anxious tension lingering in his back and shoulders to keep him upright.

"Raven, please, do calm yourself," he looks around them, a couple holding hands passing on the other side of the street peering over in their direction to see what the fuss is about, "Remember where we are."

Charles, though he might be blind to a lot of things even with the ability to read minds, knows that this isn't simply going to blow over. He sighs, playing for time while he attempts to think better of the next reply. "I admit that my words were harsh, love, but you and I both know that we aren't yet able to throw ourselves into the world. If more than your fingers had turned blue tonight, then I might not have been able to prevent a panic in time. Surely you can understand the caution that I enforce us to take?"

"Oh, I don't care. All they'll see is a girl arguing with her older brother. And because I look so much younger, they'll probably think I'm still a teenager instead of a twenty-something woman who is sick and tired of you - who's only two years older than I am - trying to protect me from the world. Did you ever think that I might want a relationship someday?"

She looks back over at the couple and her heart clenches. "That I might want that?"

She turns to look at him and knows she can't hide the wistful look in her eyes. Tom isn't her first choice in relationships, but she already knows she can't have her first choice. 'Big brother' will never allow it. Will never want it.

Charles opens and closes his mouth several times, but nothing quite manages to make it out into the open, so instead he looks and listens, and prevents himself from doing or saying anything that might leave Raven to lose control entirely. If she turns blue right in the middle of the street, nighttime or not, there will be consequences, and he can't always be certain that he can do a thorough clean-up job. All it takes is one person to walk away knowing the truth and their cover will be blown. The possibilities that might occur after that doesn't bear thinking about.

"Look at me, Raven, please. Do you honestly believe that this is how I want us to live? Hiding behind closed doors, pretending that both you and I are exactly as everyone else out there is?" A sadness floods his expression, and he looks older than he is, tired, heart aching as he takes a proper look across the road to the couple clinging on to each other without a care in the world. "But if we do, if we become too comfortable, it will all too easy for a simple little slip here and a trip there. I want to keep you safe because you are important to me, do you not see that?"

A part of him wants to admit to how much he hates himself for treating her this way, locking her away where no one can see as often as possible, like she's something to be ashamed of. But he doesn't, as always, he keeps it close to his chest, controlled, just like everything else. "I'm sorry if you fail to see how important it is that we remain undetected, but I am doing this for you. If there were any other way, you know that I would take it, any opportunity to see us walk proudly amongst everyone else."

"I don't want the illusion of normality, Charles. I want...I want..." She can't tell him what she wants. It's there, right there, if he chooses to look, but she knows he won't look. He promised her a long time ago that he wouldn't do that to her. Maybe, at first, it was a blessing. She didn't want him seeing inside and seeing what she felt for him. But the longer she feels this way, the harder it is to consider doing something about it.

"It just hurts to know that you can bring home anyone you want. Any of the girls you flirt with talking about their 'groovy mutations'. You can bring them home and not have to worry about whether they know your secret. So maybe you know their drink order. So maybe you know that one thing that'll make even the hardest girl blush. It's not like they'll figure it out. And I can't ever have that. I can't brush a little too close to the edge, no. I go tumbling over the side in a barrell. And I'm..."

She lowers her eyes and shakes her head. She can't bring herself to say it. She can't bring herself to say that she wants him. That she's jealous that he can have whatever he wants and she can't have the one thing that she wants. Her lips smile at him, but her eyes are bleak. "Never mind. Let's just go home. That's the only place for me, isn't it?"

Charles longs to tell Raven the truth. He wants to tell her that the reason he sleeps around with random women is because he can never have a serious relationship, that a one-night-stand here and a one-night-stand there is the best that he can hope for under the circumstances - that she is the main reason why he refuses to even try for anything more meaningful because nothing, no one, is worth the risk of losing what they have built up together over the years. But there's a reason why the majority of the women he does bring home are blondes, and why they are smart and funny and feisty, but still people that could quite easily be fallen in love with given the chance.

Instead, Charles stares, expression thoughtful with creases creeping into his forehead from the effort, but remains mute. He gives a nod of his head and, despite the tension left between them, hooks his arm back around hers before he leads them on towards their current home.

But he doesn't stop thinking, wishing he could look into her thoughts and find out what it is that she wants him to say to put things right, and in the end he settles for what he supposes is only fair considering. "If I were to alter my ways, to remain completely unattached in any capacity, would that satisfy you? If you and I both made a compromise to leave this topic of discussion where it is for the time being and neither seek out what it is we might crave?" It isn't a solution and he knows it, but right now it's the best that he believes he can offer.

Edited 2011-09-11 23:27 (UTC)

Raven wants to say yes. She wants to tell him that she doesn't want to watch the parade of women that are not and never will be her. That she wants him to cut himself off from love just as she has to. But to do that would be cruel and the last thing she wants to do to him is be cruel. She loves him in both ways he does and doesn't understand. If she isn't selfish, the only other thing she wants is for him to be happy and if they can make him happy...how can she refuse him that?

"But to do that," she answers eventually, "is to make you someone other than Charles Xavier and I love him too much to ever ask that of you." It's an admission and one she's made before. It's one she can make because she's supposed to love him. That's what all good sisters are supposed to feel for their brothers and something she's struggled to feel ever since boys stopped having cooties. That fraternal affection that he has for her. Fraternal might be on the list of her feelings, but it's far from the top of the list.

She turns her head and closes her eyes and impulsively kisses his cheek. "I would hate standing in the way of the thing that makes you happy."

Charles falters slightly in step, especially so when the peck to the cheek comes, but he recovers quickly, head turning to look at Raven with somewhat of a baffled expression. He hates it when the two of them argue, but as much as he would love to believe this is the end of the discussion, he knows that they won't last much longer if something isn't resolved somewhere.

"Oh, Raven, I do love you, but sometimes you can be quite dense. You are the thing that makes me the happiest. You must be aware of that? You are my friend, my family, and the very reason that I have made it here today. I know that just of late I've been working a little too hard with my studies, but it won't be forever, and once it's over with then you and I can spend some quality time together." He pauses, offering her a smile, and sliding an arm around her back, pulling her close as they continue on. "If my sacrificing one thing will make you happier, then I am more than willing to do it. You wouldn't be asking. I would be offering."

"I can be dense. That's rich coming from you. Even with all your reading people's thoughts, you can be one of the most dense people I know." She sucks in a breath when he mentioned that she is the thing that makes him happiest and lets it out again when he says that she's family. Of course. Every time she thinks she might have a little hope, that hope is well and thoroughly crushed.

"Just because I wouldn't be asking doesn't mean that I still wouldn't be standing in your way. As much as you love me, you're not in love with me and who am I to stand in the way of finding someone you care about like that. After all, it's about high time you did. You're getting on in years, old man."

The smile on her face doesn't reach her eyes. It's one thing him finding companionship for a night, but it's another thing him finding love. She still isn't sure whether she'll be able to bear it or not.

Surprising to even himself, Charles chuckles at that, because he, more than anyone, knows how easily he can get things wrong despite having the extra advantage of reading minds. "Yes, well, indeed. I sharen't deny that, it would be poor sport of me, don't you agree? Perhaps we ought to call ourselves even, mmm?"

He hates it when Raven becomes hostile with him, but the truth is that he knows, deep down, that he deserves nothing less. In fact, he thinks he deserves quite a lot more than she ever dishes out. Yes, he may have taken her in when she had no one or no where else, but after years of keeping her hidden, over-protecting her beyond what is health, and having her witness the horrors that his family brought prior to their passing - Charles definitely thinks he's getting off lightly.

But there is something that catches his attention and lingers at the front of his mind. As much as you love me, you're not in love with me. "What on earth would make you say such a terrible thing? Are you really in such a hurry to see the back of me? Without me, Raven, you would be quite alone in the world, and whether or not this is something you wish for, I can assure you that I don't intend to turn my back on you."

Raven's jaw just drops open at his words. "The...the back of you?" It feels like she's been both stabbed in the chest and throttled simultaneously. "How can you even think I'd want that?" Tears well up in her eyes and she stares at the ground. "I wasn't saying anything about leaving. All I said was that you should find someone who'll make you happy. A real relationship, not just your kid sister. I didn't think that if you found one, it would mean that I'd have to go."

She hadn't thought about it like that, but she is now. Would he make her leave? Because he's right. She doesn't have anywhere else to go. Those words make her flinch.

"I'm not some duty you have to bear, Charles. I managed fine on my own when I was younger." Maybe he really doesn't want her. Maybe he feels like he only has to put up with her.

Charles may be a lot of things, but cruel is not one of them, and he can tell, with the advantage of sensing thoughts and feelings or not, that the point he was attempting to make somehow got lost in translation. Home isn't far away now, but still he steps out in front to stop Raven in her tracks, and he pulls her under the shelter of one of the shops along the way to protect them from the rain that seems to be growing heavier by the minute.

"Raven, listen to me," he orders, hands holding onto her shoulders to keep her in place, and gaze fixed solely upon her. "If ever I were to find myself in a relationship, the last thing that I would want is for you to no longer be there. You are my sister, and I do love you, dearly, but sometimes it is difficult. I hold you back at times, of that I am aware of, and you deserve better than I have ever been able to truly offer you. But in spite of that, you must know, surely, that everything I have ever done was always in your best interests."

He stands there for a while longer, watching, waiting, but not really sure what for. He can tell that there's more to this argument of sorts than he is able to understand, and even if he does peer into her thoughts he knows that he will only find himself that much more baffled for it. "If you do feel the need to leave, then I won't stop you, not if it's what you truly want. But I will always be there for you, Raven, no matter what happens, or who comes and goes. You will always be the most important person in my life."

You are my sister.

No matter how many times she hears those words, they still feel like a knife in the chest. Of course she's his sister. They've grown up together, after all. She used to slip into his bed at night after the nightmares of her life before. Who but a sister does that? But her feelings for him aren't entirely sisterly. He's her knight in shining armor. Arthur to her Guinevere.

"Charles. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. I'd be off somewhere roaming the streets or, worse, I can think of a few things that a girl who can change her face might get into if given the wrong circumstances."

She knows she shouldn't do it and yet she still reaches up and cups his cheek. Her thumb brushes along his skin gently. She knows every line of his face and it's still strange feeling his skin under her fingers, rough in some patches and smooth in others. She meets his eyes and goes still. She knows he could see right through her if that's what he wanted and yet looking in his eyes makes her feel as if he's seeing right down to her soul. That he can see behind the lies and the masks she uses to hide herself even from him. At least those parts of herself that she knows he doesn't want to see. It's terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. It's like jumping out of a airplane and she's not sure whether she's going to hit bottom or whether Charles will be there with a parachute.

"I don't want to be anywhere else. I don't want to be with anyone else." It's a telling statement, but only if he wants to hear what she's really saying.

"Oh, Raven, please," he utters the words brokenly, the thought of what she's implying alone makes him feel sick to the stomach. "Living a lifestyle such as that is no laughing matter, and I advise that you banish those sorts of thoughts from you mind. I would never have seen you out on the streets, and you know how hard I fought to keep it that way. I'm hardly going to stand to see it now."

Charles thinks that this ought to be awkward, the way that Raven is touching him so intimately, but he's hardly the best person to ask about how family ought to treat one another. Seeing glimpses into the lives of others is one thing, but to experience it first-hand is something entirely different, and Raven, whether she happens to be blood or not, is the closest thing that he's ever had to a true family. So he allows this, and he gazes right back, searching, but not prying, until he remembers how to speak and comes to his senses.

"And you needn't be, love. You will always be welcome to join me wherever I am and whatever I'm doing, and that is never going to change. But right now we really did ought to be getting back, I don't want you to catch a cold." He smiles, something soft and fond and just for her, and he leans in to press a kiss to her forehead. "Come on, you look exhausted. Let's get you home and warmed up, mmm?"

"Well, it's a good thing it's no laughing matter. I'm not laughing. I would have been there if not for you. I would have found some other house. And then another and another. I would have become someone you wouldn't like very much." She tries not to flinch when she kisses her forehead. It's such a quintessential 'brotherly' gesture that it makes her heart hurt just to feel it.

It makes her pull away and her hands fall to her sides. "Maybe I should go have Tom 'warm me up' because whatever you say, I'm not welcome to join you in whatever you're doing."

She wants to be close to someone, even if it's not the someone she wants. He gets his co-eds and what does she gets? She gets her cola and to watch from the side and wish. It's not fair and she's tired of it. She wants something for herself.

Charles frowns with confusion, certain that he's doing or saying something wrong time and time again, but still not sure what that something is exactly. Or if he does, deep down, he can't reach for it long enough to have the realisation dawn on him. But he hates to see Raven upset, aches when she hurts, and the more he tries to help these days the worse it seems to make things.

The comment about Tom is a slap to the face, but she is old enough and wise enough to make her own choices in life, and he's going to have to learn to accept that he can't make them all for her forever eventually. But that doesn't mean he has to approve.

"Raven, please, let's not be hasty. You're upset and running off to seek comfort is no way to deal with that. And I honestly think that you could do so much better than Tom." He tries again to put an arm around her, to steer her closer to home so that they can get out of the cold and wet and sort this out properly under better circumstances. "Please, love, this is neither the time nor the place for this. And look at you, you must be freezing to death."

"Why?" she asks sharply, stopping him again. She is cold, but she doesn't care. She's so angry at him or maybe she's angry at herself. It all blurs together and leaves her on edge and wanting to do something stupid. "Why could I do better? With who, would you tell me that?"

She's so close to him that she's pretty sure he can feel the heat of her breath as she speaks. Maybe a part of her is hoping he'll tell her he's jealous, but that part is fading fast. Every time she gets her hopes up, he says something or does something to prove that she's being an idiot. To prove that all he does is love her in a platonic way.

"Do you even know him? Or are you rushing to a conclusion because...because...because I don't know why."

Charles feels a pang of guilt, but because of how close they are now, their faces mere inches apart, he can hardly hide it. He's ashamed for thinking himself better than others, but he struggles with handing Raven over to some stranger and hoping for the best. He takes care of her well enough, perhaps not in every way that she might have benefitted from over the years, but under the circumstances he doesn't think that he's done too badly by her.

It hurts, the thought of her no longer there with him, Raven and Charles against the world, just like they always said it would be. But there are a lot of things that he has said or done over the years that he hasn't quite lived up to.

"Raven, you know how much you mean to me - of course you do, you know me better than anyone - and that is why I want only the best for you. Tom is a waiter, scraping by - you of all people know how difficult it is to get by on such wages. Can he support you on that? And do you really know him that well? Enough to trust that he will never bring you harm, that he will do everything within his power to keep you safe?"

Charles sighs heavily, eyes turning downwards as the defeat washes over him and makes his form slump forward. "If you truly wish to find someone, to settle down with them, then I of all people sharen't stop you. But you have to keep in mind your...differences. There are some cruel people in the world, love, and all I wish to do is keep you safe from them. I can't promise you that if you're not with me."

Raven wraps her arms around him because what else can she do? She loves him and she hates seeing that she's the one causing him pain, even if she has a right to give it. Even if she does, in a way, need to give it. "Stupid, stupid man," she whispers. She brushes his hair back gently and then her fingers settle on his cheek again. He breaks her heart because she doesn't want to leave him, of course she doesn't, but… And there's always that but there hanging over them both.

"I'm not talking forever. I haven't even had a first date, yet. I was talking about a night." She fidgets a little. She's teased him incessentantly about his successes and failures with the girls over the years, but she's never mentioned herself. She's always thought it was taboo - and it probably is - for her to give herself that way to someone, but over time, the urge has become that much stronger.

"Sex," she finally blurts, coming straight to the point. "I'm not talking happily-ever-afters. I'm talking about sex." She glances around and her face goes pink. Hopefully, no one has overheard them. Maybe this is a conversation for the mansion, but it's too late now. The cat is out of the bag.

Without really thinking about what it is that he's doing, Charles is taking the gestures of comfort, cheek pressing into the soft warmth of her hand, body leaning towards her a little as if there's some sort of invisible pull connecting the two of them.

Raven is all that he really has in the world. Yes, he has unimaginable wealth left to his name, and a mansion to rattle around in waiting for their return. But when it comes to things that truly matter, that hold meaning and purpose - Raven is all that he has. The thought of actually having to someday let go of that isn't one that he's ever really stop to think about, but now he realises that he was foolish not to.

The mention of sex pulls him out of his muddle of thoughts, eyes widening and face colouring, and suddenly he feels extremely awkward. "Raven," he scrunches up his face as he tries to find something appropriate to reply with. "There is no need to be so - so - crude, not whilst we're out in public." Making eye contact isn't something that he can bring himself to do right now. "That's - that's - there are things - responsibilities that come with - and these things are better experienced with a friend, someone that you trust."

"Those things are better experienced with a friend," she repeats and sighs softly. Her voice goes quiet, intimate, and she continues stroking her fingers along his cheek gently. She loves Charles, she does, but sometimes he can be about as blind as a bat and she wonders that he hasn't realized what he's said yet.

"I know all about the 'responsibilities'. As for someone I trust, well, there is only one person I trust and I have a feeling he's not interested." She tries to quash the warm feelings that his leaning into her produce and remind herself that he doesn't see her that way, that he will never see her that way. All she does is look to see how embarrassed he is talking about sex with her to see the proof of that.

"I'm beginning to think that I'll take what I can get. Like you. Are you trying to tell me you know most of the girls you pick up at the pub? Because I can promise you that you don't even if it might seem like it until the next morning."

She closes her eyes and rests her forehead against his. She wants sex, of course, but taking what she can get? That's a lie. She wants the romance. She wants to be someone's everything. She wants the kind of unconditional love that Charles gives her without it being a duty. She knows Charles loves her, but she suspects that part of it is that he feels responsible for her. She doesn't want someone to feel like they should love her. There's been an ache in her chest since Charles arrived, but before it was a purely emotional thing. Now that ache is beginning to get strong enough to be a tangible force that she can actually feel, that actually hurts.

She tries not to think about how very close he is as she whispers, "Don't you ever want...more?"

This isn't going quite the way that Charles might hope for it to go, and he knows that everything that he says only makes it worse, and if he digs himself any deeper into this hole he might end up burying himself alive in it.

"Good. That's - good, I'm glad. That you know about these things. It saves me having to - yes, well, you know and that's the main thing." The touch is making him feel that much more awkward, putting the topic of discussion beside it and the things that she's saying, and he might leap to the wrong conclusion. But, no, this is Raven, his little sister Raven, and that would be ridiculous to assume she was hinting at something.

Charles doesn't understand some of the things that she says and does of late, and as he's never been a young woman he doesn't expect that he ever will. So he puts it down to her trying to make a point, one that he isn't quite sure of yet, but of course that's all it is. "There's someone that you trust?" he asks with an air of surprise, but, in his own way, also with a mixture of delight and curiosity.

"Well, that's - that's different, of course, and I don't claim to be a good role model. In fact, I will quite openly admit that I think I'm a terrible role model for anyone. But your little cosmetic problem offers you an opportunity that I never really believed that I had, and when you do eventually meet someone it will be meaningful and loving and, with any luck, built on trust."

He takes a breath and opens his mouth to continue, but before he can ramble on he cuts himself off, Raven's question cuts him off, and he realies that she's suddenly a lot closer than she had been only moments ago. He closes his eyes for a moment and puts his arms around her, but the question stumps him because of course he wants something more, he would love to have a life full of love where he can settle down and start a family. But he's never really allowed himself to think that could happen for him, being a mutant sets him apart from everyone else, and he loves his work too much, loses himself in it, although he knows from having Raven there to pull him out of it that he wouldn't work quite as much if he had a good reason not to.

"Isn't that what everyone would like to have in their lives? Something more."

"You, Charles. I trust you with everything." Maybe she shouldn't. He keeps breaking her heart and so maybe she shouldn't trust him with that, but she doesn't seem to have a choice. Her voice is sad as she continues. "You can be so thick sometimes. Of course I trust you. Who else would I trust? You're my only friend." There were people she knew. Acquaintances. People she talked to after work. But she never invited them home, never accepted their offer of a drink after work, never even let them know that she was older than she looked. When she had a problem, when she just needed to talk, it was Charles she went to.

She lets that sink in for a minute or maybe she's screwing up her courage before the next words come out of her mouth. "And so you're the one person that you say that I should be with and, perversely, the one person who never will." Or maybe it's her that's the perverted one. He is her brother, after all. Maybe they weren't biologically brother and sister, biologically, but he basically raised her. If that makes her perverse then she's...she's fine with it. Or at least she can't do anything about it.

"And I love you." The words slip out before she can help them. She could leave it there, but she doesn't want to hear his brotherly response. "And please, don't come back with a quick 'I love you, too'. I'm your sister and you know I love you, but it's just...just that I want more."

It hits her that she's done. She's tired of the half truths, of the hopes and fears, of wishing for something that may never, probably will never happen. She squeezes her eyes tightly together and takes a deep breath. This is the end of everything as she's known it and a large part of her is terrified, but the larger part is just sad. It feels as if she's letting go of something special.

"And if that wasn't clear enough for your thick skull, then have this." They're already so close that it's no effort at all to lean in fractionally and press her lips to his. She doesn't expect a response except maybe revulsion and so she pulls away quickly. She tries to pull away from his arms. She's not a little girl anymore. She can't stop hoping that Charles will be her prince. She has to go and find one of her own.

Charles is, for lack of a better word, shocked. Everything seems to be moving so very slowly and far too fast all at the same time, and he isn't sure whether or not his brain is keeping up with things, especially not his body, so he simply stands there, stunned, arms lowering slowly from the hold on Raven when she pulls away. If he weren't so surprised by all of this he might hold on. Would he? Should he? He isn't sure, doesn't know if that's what he wants to do, or if it would be for the right reasons, so for the time being it's probably for the best.

So many thoughts and feelings swim around in his mind, whizzing by too quickly to really hold onto them long enough to focus on.

Eventually he does snap out of it, unsure of what he's going to do or what he's going to say, but knowing that something right now is perhaps better than nothing at all, and either way he's almost certain it's going to be the wrong thing.

Charles laughs. A loud, sharp, although short, burst of sound that pulls out of his lungs and echoes around them. But there's no humour to it, if anything it's more an act of relief, and he does feel better for it once it's over. "Oh, Raven, is that what all of this has been about? The strange way that you have been behaving, and the quite frankly upsetting mood swings?" He's smiling as this part of it is registering, sinking in enough for him to join some of the dots, but it doesn't last.

"But I do love you, Raven, and, yes, as your brother, as a member of a family would love any of their relatives." There's a bitter little twist to his lips, and he adds in a mutter, "Well, most family members at the very least." He sighs, at somewhat of a loss, and takes a small step closer to fill some of the space that she's put between them. "But I have never thought of you that way, Raven, I'm sorry. Anyone would be so very lucky to have you, I truly believe that, but I'm afraid I'm not that lucky nor have I ever been."

The thought of anyone feeling that way towards him is absurd, maybe in passing, but as something meaningful? It's laughable. And to think that Raven, the young girl that he adopted as his sister and gone to great lengths to protect and care for, who he's watched grow up into a fine and beautiful young woman, no credit to himself, is just...impossible. The fact is that he's never thought about it, never even considered it, not because of Raven but because of himself, because he has never thought himself worthy enough of anything serious, always pictured himself growing old in the mansion, still engrossed in his work, with visits from Raven and her family, because Charles is many things, of that he is aware, but capable of being the thing that someone should commit to is not one of them.

"Come on, we really do need to get you inside and out of the cold. How about we discuss this further over a cup of a tea, mmm?" As much as he wants anything other than to be having this conversation, if not only because he doesn't really know what to say in response, or how to deal with it in the right way, he really is worried that if she stays out in the cool night with the rain still slowly coming down that she's going to end up getting sick. "There should still be a packet of those biscuits that you like so much at the back of the cupboard."

There is something in Raven that breaks with every new word that comes out of Charles' mouth. She's known, or at least suspected, that he didn't feel that way toward her, but that's the point of hope, isn't it? It's something to cling to because you don't know any better. It's why she's never asked him before. She wants to cling to that hope like a child clings to a warm blanket. If she could, she'd take back the words that have sprung from her mouth. She wishes she could say that she was joking, kidding, but even if she does, it won't change the answer that he's given her.

He loves her like a sister. Never have words been so cruel, especially when she can't even blame him for them. Of course he sees her like a sister. He's raised her as one. He's the one who was there every time she scraped a knee or was bullied in class or even when she was just lonely. But there are lines that brothers just do not cross and she has found the one.

She flinches when she laughs - that bit of cruelty is something she can blame on him - and pulls away again when he tries to move back closer to her. She can't. She's already done the one thing that would hurt her most, she's already opened up to her in the way that she's always been terrified about - and he's shut the door in her face. She can't go back to the way things were. She can't stay locked behind that door and pretend she doesn't have the feelings she does. It's not fair to her or to him.

"Charles." She begins slowly, but the words come from someplace deep inside. They're words that have been waiting to be said. "I'm not your little sister. You may think of me like that and we may have grown up together, and maybe that makes me your sister in your mind, but...but you don't have to protect me anymore. Don't forget, I'm not that much younger than you are. I may not be able to have some kind of a normal life, but I want one. You were always the only one I could imagine having that life with because with you, I wouldn't have to be everyone else's normal. I could be my own. But...but I understand."

She's outside, but she's already getting claustrophobic. She needs to get out, get away, have some time to herself to think.

"I need to go now. okay? I can't do the 'happy little family'. Not tonight. I promise that I'll be back before morning, but I need a walk. By myself."

Charles is truly lost for words for a whole minute, if not longer, and that is not something he finds himself being very often. But the way that Raven flinches away from his touch, now, and throws back the fact that, as much as he might picture it that way, the two of them are not nor will they ever truly be siblings, not in the normal sense. To him, however, she will always be family, no matter what the general rules are in the world, in his heart and in his mind she will always be something more to him.

It hurts, to hear the words, to have the facts that he knows pointed out to him from the one person he never thought could hurt him quite as much as he is right now. But she has every right to do so, and he knows it, but more than that, considering the circumstances, he can't even bring himself to be angry at her for it.

He doesn't try to make another advance towards her, because for as slow as he can be at times he can see how much she seems to be suffocating at the present, and whether intentionally or not this is somehow his fault.

"Raven, please, let's be civil about this. Come home with me, we can talk about this properly and deal with it." Somehow, no matter he says, he doesn't see how she's going to be even remotely convinced by him. He feels a panic building up and working its way through him. "It's late, love, and it's getting rather cold out here. Where on earth are you going to go at this time?"

Their flat isn't that far away, but right now it feels a great distance away, and he knows that if he has to finish the rest of the walk alone it's going to feel ten times worse. "If you're worried that I won't listening to you, hear you out, then I can assure you that I will. You have my word. But please come home before you catch your death out here." The idea of Raven harbouring feelings for him beyond what he himself has always told himself he felt isn't as terrifying as it perhaps ought to be, and that worries him a little. But it doesn't mean anything. Does it? Surely he would have considered it before now if it did. "I can't leave you here to wander the streets alone at night, that would be irresponsible of me, and as much as I believe you capable of taking care of yourself, I sharen't be able to rest knowing that you're out here by yourself."

"There's nothing left to say, though, is there? I told you, showed you, exactly how I feel and you just...don't. Really, that's all there is to it." She takes one step back and then another. She wants the steps to be easy. She knows what she has to do. But the steps are harder than any she's taken in her life. "You don't know how much I want to say that of course I'll come with you, of course I'll let you take me home and that of course things will be the same as they've always been."

That is the easy solution. It's the solution that wouldn't require any effort on her part at all. She can just slide into it and pretend for a little while longer. Except the easy way out is a weight on her conscience. The easy way out is a lie that she can't tell, refuses to tell, any longer.

"You want to know where I'd go? Nowhere. Or maybe everywhere. I'm not leaving, but I need to clear my head. I need space, Charles, please. I need..." She knows the next words out of her mouth are going to sound horrible. She says them anyway. "I need time to grieve. I've been waiting for you since I knew what those kinds of feelings were and you've just told me that there's no point waiting. I can't just go back to normal after that. Not right away. Please, don't argue with me over this."

She's so tired and it's not the sort of exhaustion that a good night's sleep can cure. Her shoulders are slumped and she's sure there are shadows under her eyes. There's only so much that she can do and she suspects that her concentration isn't the best right now. She's keeping her form only as a matter of habit.

"Just let me go, Charles."

There are so many different ways that this could have gone and somehow this still feels like the worst of all of them. Charles stands there, at a loss of what to say to make her go home with him, so that he knows that she's safe and warm and taken care of, and feeling so much more helpless than he ever remembers feeling in his entire life, which, considering chunks of his childhood, is saying something.

"But I don't want to let you go, Raven," he says, looking and sounding surprised at his own words, at how foreign his voice registers to his own ears, and he might not know what it is that he's doing here, or why he's saying it, but he knows, now, that it is most definitely true. "Can you not see that? I don't want to let you go, Raven, because you are far too important to me. Perhaps I don't care for you in quite the same way that you do for me, but it's not as if I've actually given it much thought. I..."

The pause lingers, and he can feel the tension it leaves, his own suspense building because he still isn't sure of what he's saying or where it's coming from, but he needs to put this right. "This isn't something that I ever would have dreamed you to long for, love, and because of that I never allowed myself to indulge in such thoughts. But that doesn't mean that I - that there isn't..." But he doesn't know how this part of the conversation finishes, or what's driving it, and he frowns, frustrated at the situation and angry at himself.

"You know me better than anyone, Raven, there will never be anyone who could be as close to me as you are, so you must realise how bad I would be for you in such a way. I work far too many hours, locking myself away until you drag me back to reality, and I should perhaps admit that I am so very grateful for those gestures. But I'm selfish, Raven, and so very set in my ways, and you deserve more than that. You are worth so much more than that, than what I could ever possibly offer you. You already share everything that I own, but outside of that I can't offer you anything that you ought to have."

Yet something nags at the back of his mind, something he can't quite put his finger on, and it refuses to stop. What if he were to think about this, to come to terms with the idea - would it make a difference? Maybe. Maybe not. But he knows that she is worth ten times what he is, and that he's already stolen so much of her life by keeping her safe, locking her away from the world in order to protect her, because as much as he believes he has saved her time and time again from the cruelties of the world, he also isn't ignorant to his own actions enough that he could ever justify some of the things that he's done over the years. This, for example, being one of them. He should let her go, really, he should, but he's selfish, he hates the thought of anyone else getting her, no one will ever be good enough, and no one would ever look after her properly without some ill intention behind it.

"Please, let us just go home for tonight. I promise I sharen't speak to you if you need your space, I will go directly to bed and remain there if it means that you will be safe and warm at home where you ought to be."

"Stop it," she says. Her voice is pained. She should go, a part of her even wants to, but she can't help but be caught by his words. There's something he's not saying or something that he's talking around and it's drawing her in again. Hope. He's giving her hope again and he really should stop it because it's confusing. Feeling as if she wants to press up against him and flee for her life both at the same time is utterly confusing and she just wishes she'd make up her mind. She thought she had until he began talking again.

"Stop talking about what I should need or should have. What I should have is exactly the thing that makes me happy. That puts a smile on my face. That makes me feel safe. You don't have to list all of your faults. I probably know them better than you do, but I love you anyway. Or maybe because of them. Because of the way I'll come into the study and find you asleep on your book. Because of the look you give to the women you pick up at the pub. I might hate it, but there are times when I want you to look at me in that way."

She pauses, not exactly sure what to say next.

"Stop sounding like you're...like you're... Brothers let their sisters go. Parents let their children go. If that's what you feel for me, like some kind of little sister or my protector, you should be able to let me go. If you can't," she says, laughing humorlessly, "then maybe it's for the same reason that I can't seem to leave even when I think you're going to break my heart. Even when you already have. I love you, no, I am in love with you, and even if there is the slimmest hope that you might return those feeling I can't leave. I can't just walk away and forget all about you, about this. You're wrong. I don't care about what you own. The one thing you can offer me is something much more precious to me. Love. Not dutiful love, not safe love."

The thoughts in her head are so scrambled that she simply acts on instinct and goes to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She doesn't kiss him, though. She searches his face with eyes that are so vulnerable. She's terrified that he will just stomp on her heart one final time. After a moment, one hand slides down his neck and presses to his chest.

"I want this," she whispers. She looks down at her hand and, when she looks up, her eyes are yellow. It's a sight for him only. "After everything that I should or shouldn't want, should or shouldn't have, this is all I want. All I need." She wants him to kiss her. She's already taken that first step and she desperately wants him to take his, but her eyes are already beginning to well with the tears that will come with his rejection. In her imagination, she can already begin to feel him pull away.

Charles leaves a lingering silence looming over them, sighing heavily with the sudden overwhelming feeling of being so beyond confused it actually hurts, and he knows that as much as he should make some sort of official decision he isn't in a right place to do that. But if he were to have a little time, to mull everything over, to weigh up the pros and cons on both sides, and to sift through his own thoughts and feelings that he's swallowed down for so long he can no longer tell what's what.

He, at least, owes her that much. To make a choice based on true feelings rather than in the spare of the moment, and especially for lack of anything else. And he really doesn't trust himself to make the right decision. If he says no, if he turns her down, he knows that he's going to lose her and the thought alone is unbearable. But if he rushes in and says that, perhaps, there is a chance, then he's offering her something that might turn out to be false, and being the cause of her pain, like he knows he is right now, is just as unbearable as losing her.

When she moves in, puts her arms around him and invades his personal bubble, Charles doesn't object, doesn't try to shake her off, and not because he feels it would hurt her, but because he has no desire to break the contact. But he also doesn't think he can lean in any closer than a little shuffle step forward, not here and not now, but maybe someday.

Raven's eyes are beautiful, he thinks, something that he's always found stunning enough for the need to pause and admire them, and it's hard not to hold their gaze, so he doesn't try to break it. A part of him suddenly wonders why he gets the way that he does whenever she reveals her true form - the main reason, he knows, is because if anyone were to see and he couldn't force them to forget in time, or the situation were to get out of hand, something very terrible could happen to her and he can't allow that. But he also wonders if it just made him feel better in general not to see her that way, if he was being more than protective and being selfish in keeping her hidden.

He knows that the little girl he found in the kitchen of the mansion that night was someone that he feel instantly in love with, fascination and wonder, and relief not to be the only one who is different. But what if it was more than that? What if, keeping her in this more acceptable form, wasn't merely for her own protection from the outside world, but from Charles himself?

Charles sighs again, softer this time, and finally does lean in. But he doesn't kiss her, he just rests his forehead against hers in an affectionate gesture, perhaps something a little more so than he might usually, and he closes his eyes to bask in it before he speaks.

"This is all very sudden, Raven," he points in a small voice, just audible above the patting of the rain falling to the ground and bouncing off of buildings. "Perhaps I ought to let you go, it would be the decent thing to do, and that alone is enough to prove to you how selfish that I can be. Because I..." He pulls back to look at her, a sad smile pulling feebly at the corners of his mouth, and the sorrow and regret in his eyes. "I can't do it. I know that I should, truly I do, but I can't. But I need time. To think, to make sure that what I decide to act upon is real. It's a lot to ask, all things considering, but can I have that?"

"Don't you understand?" she whispers. "I want you to be seflish. Tom wasn't what I was looking for as my happily ever after. He was what I was looking for as second best. The runner up to something I could never have." She thinks she understands what is about to happen. He'll have his time and then, somehow, he'll find a way to talk himself out of having what he wants. Or maybe it isn't even something he wants. Maybe it's just something she's talking him into at least trying. In one situation, it'll be his fault and in the other hers, but either result ends up the same.

Her own eyes are equally sad when she looks at him. "Then let me go for my walk. I'll be safe. You know that despite all of your worrying, I can protect myself if I have to. I can blend in anywhere I go. You need your time to think and I need mine. I'll be back in an hour or two, you have my word. I just need time." She needs time to come to terms with what is about to happen.

After all, if he wants this as much as she does, or at all, wouldn't he have kissed her by now?

"Just say 'yes, dear' and open your arms and by the time I've come back, you'll have had your think and then we can have that talk that you wanted back home." More likely, he'll try to let her down easily and she'll go up to her bedroom and slam the door behind her before he can get very far into her speech. He says he doesn't want to let her go and she believes him, but she's not convinced that it's for the reasons he's implying.

The idea of allowing Raven to wandering the streets alone with the night falling quickly down around them makes him fret over her safety. But the truth is that he knows that she can take care of herself should the need arise, and a part of him hates that, because it's one less thing that she perhaps feels the need to depend upon him for.

So he nods, the hesitancy of it giving away how unsure he is to let her go at least for this, but he doubts that there's anything he can say or do right now that would keep her from going.

"This is obviously something that you have put much thought into," he says with an edge of understanding, "And I very much doubt that I can prevent you from going. But promise me that you'll be careful?" He doesn't just mean for her safety as he would anyone else, though, and it's obviously playing on his mind, the constant reminder that she isn't like every other girl, that life is harder for her because of her mutation. "Please, love, I realise that you're upset, but promise that you sharen't be off doing anything that might draw attention to yourself."

"I'll be fine, Charles," Raven promised as she began stepping away. She wasn't planning on going to the wrong side of town. She wasn't even planning on seeing anybody. She meant what she'd said. She needed a walk. The farther away she got, though, the more her chest hurt. It was like some kind of tether between the two of them was being pulled to the snapping point. She kept looking back at him until she was forced to turn out of sight and, when she did, she pressed her back against the wall and let out a shaky breath.

She couldn't believe what she'd just done. She'd told Charles about her feelings. She'd told him that she was in love with him and he'd...what had he done? She stlil wasn't sure whether he was postponing the inevitable or really meant that he was interested. She rubbed at her chest to try to ease the ache and began walking again. No. Surely he was just trying to keep her safe.

She was out like that for two or three hours. Each time she began heading back to her flat with Charles, doubt and panic crept in and she headed in the other direction. She wasn't sure she was ready for a confrontation with him. Once had been enough for one night and even then, nothing had really been resolved. She didn't feel any better. If anything, she felt a little worse for wear. And now he knew and even if she'd wanted to, things would never be the same again.

Finally, she decided to just go inside. He was probably well asleep and she couldn't stop herself from yawning every other minute. She needed some sleep, too. And in the morning...in the morning maybe she could pretend this had just been a bad dream.

She slipped her key into the lock and turned the door handle quietly. If he was asleep, she wasn't going to wake him up for anything.

Charles spent the remainder of the walk home with his hands buried deep into the pockets of his trousers and his head hanging low. He felt several things, most of which he tried not to focus too much on, but the shame and guilt weren't as easy to ebb out.

Once he entered their flat, Charles had skipped dinner and made himself a hot chocolate after peeling away the rain-soaked layers and climbing into some warm pyjamas. It helped, a little, but as he warmed up his brain worked faster through the events, thinking seriously and in depth about what is the best thing to do and what is the right thing.

Eventually, Charles couldn't stand it any more, pacing around the flat and wondering whether or not Raven was okay, switching back and forth between concern and sifting through pros and cons, and still he came to no real conclusion. So he crawled into bed where he tossed and turned restlessly until he finally wore himself out and fell into a fitful slumber.

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