Raven hates herself a little for helping to clean up the mess while Alex and Angel and Sean half-heartedly stand in the corner, leaning on brooms and bitching about what a prig Charles is, but Charles has been her family for years and she knows why he is the way he is and even though he's a killjoy, she has to swallow down the urge to defend him, to explain to them that it's just because he wants so much from them, because he wants this stupid perfect world where everyone is good to everyone else.
She doesn't want them to think she's just as much of a loser, though, so she starts sweeping up broken glass and righting knocked over furniture. She feels better about it when Darwin starts to help, and then Hank's working with them too, so at least she's not alone in being a goody-two-shoes.
That doesn't mean she's not still mad at Charles, though. He didn't have to embarrass her like that in front of the rest of them. He didn't have to shout at them all like they were babies even if, okay, they could have been a little more discreet. They probably shouldn't have added so much of that stolen rum to their drinks. But it was all in good fun, and it's not like Charles has never been there, drinking too much, using his powers for a bit of a game, trying to impress anyone who looks his way. He gets to go out with Erik every night, who couldn't be more his type if Charles had ordered him from a catalog, no matter how much he tries to insist that they're just eager to discuss the future of their kind, like they're tossing genetics lectures back and forth over brandy and not making out like teenagers in the back of their government issued car. Raven's seen the hickeys. Charles may be fooling the rest of the kids, but he can never fool her and it's not fair that he expects her to be prim and proper while he's going out and doing the exact opposite.
Darwin asks her if she wants to play cards once they've cleaned up, but Raven claims she has a headache and goes back to her room to sulk in private, where she won't have to listen to their stupid, catty comments. It's worse than the girls at school; at least in school the name "Xavier" meant enough to keep their stupid remarks behind her back and not in front of her face.
She loses the blonde facade as soon as she closes the door and throws herself down onto the cot. She shares the room with Angel, who's normally pretty cool, but is just too much today. They all are, even Hank. She likes having friends for the first time, real friends she can be honest with and talk to, the first she's ever had outside of Charles, but she's not sure she's ready to give up her old life in exchange for them. It was hard, sometimes, being alone. It was difficult when it was just the two of them and sometimes Raven just wanted someone else, some outside point of view, someone who wasn't her stodgy-before-his-time brother to listen and talk to and bond with. Usually, though, Charles was enough, the two of them together were enough. Raven and Charles against the world--Raven liked that. She liked being the most important person to someone and knowing they were the most important person to her. She liked knowing where she stood, even if she didn't always like what that standing was.
She's sure she'll get used to being around so many new people. She's sure she'll adapt to the change in routine, the change in lifestyle, even. But she misses Charles already, misses what they had. They used to sit and talk every night. Now, Raven is lucky if Charles remembers to come in and say good night before locking himself away to "play chess" with Erik.
She's ten minutes into a good mope when there's a quiet knock at the door. Angel usually just barges in and out as she sees fit and Raven doesn't know who else it could be, so she mutters, "I'm busy" and pulls a pillow over her head.
The door opens anyway, and that's when she knows it's Charles. Charles always does what he wants.
"Hello," Charles says, voice quiet, almost tentative. That's something of a shock, given Charles doesn't do tentative, and enough of a draw for Raven to drop the pillow and roll over.
"Hi," Raven says flatly.
Charles sighs and crosses to her bed, sitting just on the edge and not quite looking at her. She's almost reminded of her first days with Charles, when he would come to tuck her in every night, sitting on the bed and sheepishly admitting that he wasn't quite sure how the tucking in thing was supposed to work, but he'd gathered that it was important and Raven deserved it.
Raven knows that meaning well can't always be an excuse, but Charles does so badly want to make people happy that she always gives in. She gives in now, looking up at him and smiling just a little.
"I'm sorry I shouted at you in front of the others," Charles says. "I shouldn't have done that. I'm sure it was mortifying. I only did it because I was mortified too."
It's not an excuse, but Raven suddenly sees it from his perspective, walking in with Moira and Erik and watching all of them drunk and out of control. She can't remember what Erik had said now, but there was definitely a little quip about them before he'd walked out of the room, dismissing them all entirely. Moira had shouted, too, which made sense given she was the one in charge and--okay, wow, maybe they should have reined it in a little sooner.
"You shouldn't have shouted," Raven says. "We already felt bad enough." She revises that. "I already felt bad enough. But...maybe we should have stopped once the property damage started."
Charles chuckles at that and finally looks at her, stroking her hair behind her ear.
"I'm afraid I've not been a very attentive brother this week," he admits. "Certain things have been...distracting me."
"Certain things?" Raven says. "Like, say, something that's about six foot and German?"
"Oh, shut it," Charles says, and he shoves her shoulder, color rising in his cheeks. "I'm trying to apologize. Don't make me regret it."
Raven pushes herself up to a sitting position and holds open her arms. Charles leans forward quickly, automatically, and envelops her in a tight hug. The whole base smells like antiseptic and recycled air, but Charles still smells like tea and books and his weird aftershave. Charles still smells like home, and Raven rests her head on his shoulder, not willing to let go just yet. Charles doesn't seem eager to pull back either.
"This is a whole new world we're discovering," he says. "I'm glad you're here with me."
"I'm glad too," Raven says. She swallows against the sudden lump in her throat. How much longer do they have until Charles gets swept up in this new world entirely? "Don't forget me, okay?"
"Oh, darling, I couldn't," Charles insists. "Never. I wouldn't." He says it with such a ferocity that she can't help but believe him. His arms squeeze her even more tightly.
She doesn't know if she believes it--Charles is good at making promises because Charles wants everybody to be happy and will thusly tell everybody exactly what they want to hear--but the desperation in his voice makes her pause. It's possible, in the wake of all this change, Charles needs her just as much as she needs him. It's possible Raven's not the only one who doesn't know how she fits into this new world that goes beyond the bubble of just the two of them.
"Good," she says. "I won't either. I promise."
They stay there, hugging tightly, for long minutes. There are probably trips to plan and things to read and hot Nazi-hunters waiting for Charles in his own room, but he stays put with his arms around Raven and Raven won't be the one to kick him out. Everything else can wait a few more minutes while they breathe in and out, secure in the fact that their little bubble has shrunken down again, tight around the two of them, at least for a little while longer.
xmfc - raven and charles - 1400 words
She doesn't want them to think she's just as much of a loser, though, so she starts sweeping up broken glass and righting knocked over furniture. She feels better about it when Darwin starts to help, and then Hank's working with them too, so at least she's not alone in being a goody-two-shoes.
That doesn't mean she's not still mad at Charles, though. He didn't have to embarrass her like that in front of the rest of them. He didn't have to shout at them all like they were babies even if, okay, they could have been a little more discreet. They probably shouldn't have added so much of that stolen rum to their drinks. But it was all in good fun, and it's not like Charles has never been there, drinking too much, using his powers for a bit of a game, trying to impress anyone who looks his way. He gets to go out with Erik every night, who couldn't be more his type if Charles had ordered him from a catalog, no matter how much he tries to insist that they're just eager to discuss the future of their kind, like they're tossing genetics lectures back and forth over brandy and not making out like teenagers in the back of their government issued car. Raven's seen the hickeys. Charles may be fooling the rest of the kids, but he can never fool her and it's not fair that he expects her to be prim and proper while he's going out and doing the exact opposite.
Darwin asks her if she wants to play cards once they've cleaned up, but Raven claims she has a headache and goes back to her room to sulk in private, where she won't have to listen to their stupid, catty comments. It's worse than the girls at school; at least in school the name "Xavier" meant enough to keep their stupid remarks behind her back and not in front of her face.
She loses the blonde facade as soon as she closes the door and throws herself down onto the cot. She shares the room with Angel, who's normally pretty cool, but is just too much today. They all are, even Hank. She likes having friends for the first time, real friends she can be honest with and talk to, the first she's ever had outside of Charles, but she's not sure she's ready to give up her old life in exchange for them. It was hard, sometimes, being alone. It was difficult when it was just the two of them and sometimes Raven just wanted someone else, some outside point of view, someone who wasn't her stodgy-before-his-time brother to listen and talk to and bond with. Usually, though, Charles was enough, the two of them together were enough. Raven and Charles against the world--Raven liked that. She liked being the most important person to someone and knowing they were the most important person to her. She liked knowing where she stood, even if she didn't always like what that standing was.
She's sure she'll get used to being around so many new people. She's sure she'll adapt to the change in routine, the change in lifestyle, even. But she misses Charles already, misses what they had. They used to sit and talk every night. Now, Raven is lucky if Charles remembers to come in and say good night before locking himself away to "play chess" with Erik.
She's ten minutes into a good mope when there's a quiet knock at the door. Angel usually just barges in and out as she sees fit and Raven doesn't know who else it could be, so she mutters, "I'm busy" and pulls a pillow over her head.
The door opens anyway, and that's when she knows it's Charles. Charles always does what he wants.
"Hello," Charles says, voice quiet, almost tentative. That's something of a shock, given Charles doesn't do tentative, and enough of a draw for Raven to drop the pillow and roll over.
"Hi," Raven says flatly.
Charles sighs and crosses to her bed, sitting just on the edge and not quite looking at her. She's almost reminded of her first days with Charles, when he would come to tuck her in every night, sitting on the bed and sheepishly admitting that he wasn't quite sure how the tucking in thing was supposed to work, but he'd gathered that it was important and Raven deserved it.
Raven knows that meaning well can't always be an excuse, but Charles does so badly want to make people happy that she always gives in. She gives in now, looking up at him and smiling just a little.
"I'm sorry I shouted at you in front of the others," Charles says. "I shouldn't have done that. I'm sure it was mortifying. I only did it because I was mortified too."
It's not an excuse, but Raven suddenly sees it from his perspective, walking in with Moira and Erik and watching all of them drunk and out of control. She can't remember what Erik had said now, but there was definitely a little quip about them before he'd walked out of the room, dismissing them all entirely. Moira had shouted, too, which made sense given she was the one in charge and--okay, wow, maybe they should have reined it in a little sooner.
"You shouldn't have shouted," Raven says. "We already felt bad enough." She revises that. "I already felt bad enough. But...maybe we should have stopped once the property damage started."
Charles chuckles at that and finally looks at her, stroking her hair behind her ear.
"I'm afraid I've not been a very attentive brother this week," he admits. "Certain things have been...distracting me."
"Certain things?" Raven says. "Like, say, something that's about six foot and German?"
"Oh, shut it," Charles says, and he shoves her shoulder, color rising in his cheeks. "I'm trying to apologize. Don't make me regret it."
Raven pushes herself up to a sitting position and holds open her arms. Charles leans forward quickly, automatically, and envelops her in a tight hug. The whole base smells like antiseptic and recycled air, but Charles still smells like tea and books and his weird aftershave. Charles still smells like home, and Raven rests her head on his shoulder, not willing to let go just yet. Charles doesn't seem eager to pull back either.
"This is a whole new world we're discovering," he says. "I'm glad you're here with me."
"I'm glad too," Raven says. She swallows against the sudden lump in her throat. How much longer do they have until Charles gets swept up in this new world entirely? "Don't forget me, okay?"
"Oh, darling, I couldn't," Charles insists. "Never. I wouldn't." He says it with such a ferocity that she can't help but believe him. His arms squeeze her even more tightly.
She doesn't know if she believes it--Charles is good at making promises because Charles wants everybody to be happy and will thusly tell everybody exactly what they want to hear--but the desperation in his voice makes her pause. It's possible, in the wake of all this change, Charles needs her just as much as she needs him. It's possible Raven's not the only one who doesn't know how she fits into this new world that goes beyond the bubble of just the two of them.
"Good," she says. "I won't either. I promise."
They stay there, hugging tightly, for long minutes. There are probably trips to plan and things to read and hot Nazi-hunters waiting for Charles in his own room, but he stays put with his arms around Raven and Raven won't be the one to kick him out. Everything else can wait a few more minutes while they breathe in and out, secure in the fact that their little bubble has shrunken down again, tight around the two of them, at least for a little while longer.