(X-Men, gen) the long walk away
Title: the long walk away
Author: littledust
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Character: Raven Darkholme
Rating: PG
Word Count: 311
Summary: All Raven can feel as she walks away from her brother is the sand under her feet: soft and warm, like Charles's lips against her forehead.
All Raven can feel as she walks away from her brother is the sand under her feet: soft and warm, like Charles's lips against her forehead. "No more hiding," she repeats to keep herself from turning tail and running back, weeping like a child. This isn't right, leaving her brother injured in a strange place, but this is war, and soldiers make sacrifices, and if she turns around to see his face one more time--
This is for you, Charles, she thinks, fierce enough that he might overhear despite his promise. We'll remake the world and then we'll come back, Erik and Angel and me, we'll come back to you.
They join hands, her new team and Raven, like the ending of a fairytale.
Raven reels against the nausea of teleportation, shaking her head to clear it. Emotion slams into her mind, her brother's broken body, Charles in such pain that he's shedding tears, oh God. "We have to go back!" she screams, slamming a fist into the wall of whatever safehouse they're in now. "He blocked it off, he wanted me to make the choice I would make without his injury, we have to save Charles!"
And then she's sobbing in Angel's arms, hating herself for her childishness, hating Charles for his condescending fucking morality and he was just hit by a bullet--
Erik's knuckles are white, the only tell that Charles did the same thing to him. His rigidity makes him easy to mimic. "Azazel," he bites out, and Azazel nods, teleporting back in a faint puff of black smoke.
"You love him too," Raven says, spitting the words out like an accusation. It is. How dare you make the same mistake.
"That's not enough, Mystique," Erik--no, Magneto--replies.
She wipes a rough hand across her cheek. They've made their choice. It would be cruel to pretend otherwise.
Author: littledust
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Character: Raven Darkholme
Rating: PG
Word Count: 311
Summary: All Raven can feel as she walks away from her brother is the sand under her feet: soft and warm, like Charles's lips against her forehead.
All Raven can feel as she walks away from her brother is the sand under her feet: soft and warm, like Charles's lips against her forehead. "No more hiding," she repeats to keep herself from turning tail and running back, weeping like a child. This isn't right, leaving her brother injured in a strange place, but this is war, and soldiers make sacrifices, and if she turns around to see his face one more time--
This is for you, Charles, she thinks, fierce enough that he might overhear despite his promise. We'll remake the world and then we'll come back, Erik and Angel and me, we'll come back to you.
They join hands, her new team and Raven, like the ending of a fairytale.
Raven reels against the nausea of teleportation, shaking her head to clear it. Emotion slams into her mind, her brother's broken body, Charles in such pain that he's shedding tears, oh God. "We have to go back!" she screams, slamming a fist into the wall of whatever safehouse they're in now. "He blocked it off, he wanted me to make the choice I would make without his injury, we have to save Charles!"
And then she's sobbing in Angel's arms, hating herself for her childishness, hating Charles for his condescending fucking morality and he was just hit by a bullet--
Erik's knuckles are white, the only tell that Charles did the same thing to him. His rigidity makes him easy to mimic. "Azazel," he bites out, and Azazel nods, teleporting back in a faint puff of black smoke.
"You love him too," Raven says, spitting the words out like an accusation. It is. How dare you make the same mistake.
"That's not enough, Mystique," Erik--no, Magneto--replies.
She wipes a rough hand across her cheek. They've made their choice. It would be cruel to pretend otherwise.