Fic: Midnight Blue (X-Men: First Class, R)
title: Midnight Blue
author: ilovetakahana
word count: approx. 1100
fandom: X-Men: First Class [movieverse]
characters: Charles Xavier, Raven Darkholme
rating: R
notes: Part of the universe of Knife and Needle and Rope, in which we meet Raven Darkholme, Charles Xavier's "ward".
Warning for basically most serial killer / murder mystery tropes and everything else that might be associated with the idea of a dark version of Charles Xavier.
Raven always knows when Charles is home.
It's not the scrape of the key in the lock. It's not the rush of air into the little flat. It's not the voice that hums or complains or grumbles. It's not the thump of his bag and whatever it is he carries around in it.
She is under strict instructions to never, never touch it, and he is the only person she'll ever do that for. She'll rob everyone else blind; she spent years doing just that, and pickpocketing is a sport to her, and everyone else is fair game.
Not him. Not Charles.
Sometimes, when she's lying in bed and she's watching the door with fear and distrust like a cold heavy blanket around her shoulders, she closes her eyes and thinks about the first time she'd ever seen someone smile at her.
Even then Charles had looked like a boy, like he was closer to Raven's own age instead of being, well, Raven still doesn't know how old he is or how much older, and she's tried to ask, and he never answers. Dark hair flopping all over his face; lines in the corners of his eyes. His hands: they looked like they'd been put together wrong for some reason, long and pale and bending at odd angles. Light and dark scars on the skin of his arms.
His voice, and the strange smile on his face, like he was in pain; the ring of shadows around his blue blue eyes. Blue as midnight and ocean depths in her dreams. "I think you need this more than I do." Holding his wallet out to her - the whole thing, not just a crumpled bill or a handful of coins but everything he had. Fumbling for a moment, and offering her the heavy watch he was wearing, as well.
By then, Raven knew who he was.
Charles was hers. Her friend, her protector, her companion. Not family; they'll never be family, because he must have parents and she knows she doesn't have any. But they have each other, and for some reason he needs her, and she wants to stay with him.
Back to the present time. The heavy watch with its metal bracelet and dark blue face on her wrist. She's waiting. Her homework is done. There is dinner waiting on the counter - the sandwiches will be stone-cold by now, but Charles likes it when she cooks, so she's trying to learn. He needs to eat.
The night outside sounds like something lonely. There's a song in it: a sad song, something people sing with tears and with pain, and Raven hums along, making up a melody, joining the wind and the rain in their mourning. She doesn't know everything she's lost, only that she's missing so many parts of her life and not even fifteen yet, and this is one of the nights when she cries for it, though there are no tears in her eyes.
When the door finally creaks open Raven's at the threshold in a beat, and she's offering a watery smile to Charles - who blinks at her, sweeps her with a calculating glance from her blonde hair to her bare feet.
And Charles smiles back.
He looks happy, and he looks like he's been screaming-running-working all day.
She doesn't know what he does when he goes out. Her instincts tell her that she mustn't find out, for fear of breaking the spell. A child's way of looking at the world. It works for her. It keeps her safe.
So she simply holds out her hands and says, "Welcome home, Charles."
And Charles takes her hands and pulls her in, kisses her softly on the top of her head, and says, "I'm home, Raven."
"Can I hug you?"
Charles pulls away and shakes his head gently. "I'm...in a little pain, right now. Perhaps later?"
"Okay." And she worries, but she goes to the counter and gets him something to eat, hands him a bottle of milk from the fridge and she hops up on the table, swings her feet as he eats, talks to him about mathematics and the three chapters he'd asked her to read from The Tenant of Wildfell Hall. She answers his questions and does at least one algebraic equation in her head, and he rewards her with a little smile when she gets it right on the second try.
When he takes off his jacket and crosses the room to hang it up, she catches sight of it. A huge black stain across his back, shoulders to hips, and she just barely stops herself from yelling. She claps her hands over her own mouth. Whispers his name. Crosses the room on silent feet and reaches out to him.
Hard weight clamped around her wrist, just above the watch. Raven goes rigid. Doesn't cry out. Charles is looming over her, blue eyes dark with the things he knows, the things she's not allowed to know. The little rules and warnings around his life and around hers, the things that pull them together, the things that keep them apart.
"Please don't," is all Charles says, however, and then he smiles and Raven knows him again. Knows that smile and all its sharp edges. Knows that with this smile he may hide things from her, but never his heart, and she knows that part of his heart belongs to her - just as he carries part of her heart around with him, just as she knows she looks at him like she looks at no other person in the world. Everyone else is the enemy. Everyone else except Charles.
"I'm sorry," she offers.
"Don't be," he says, and it is Charles who pulls her into a hug. She doesn't know what to do with her hands, and Charles murmurs, "Come on, you know you want to."
"You're hurt."
"I hurt," Charles says, and he is almost cheerful.
Raven holds him as lightly as she can. She hears him hiss in pain, and she trembles for him, and for herself.
"That's it," he says. Again a kiss, this time to her temple. "I know I frighten you sometimes. I'm trying to be better with that. You must be patient with me."
"I'm trying," she says.
A quiet laugh. "That is all I ask from you."
"Charles, I love you."
"I love you, Raven."
The wind howls outside and Raven clings to Charles, her brother and her friend, and she thinks that she'd like to burn the world down for him, if only he'd let her.
author: ilovetakahana
word count: approx. 1100
fandom: X-Men: First Class [movieverse]
characters: Charles Xavier, Raven Darkholme
rating: R
notes: Part of the universe of Knife and Needle and Rope, in which we meet Raven Darkholme, Charles Xavier's "ward".
Warning for basically most serial killer / murder mystery tropes and everything else that might be associated with the idea of a dark version of Charles Xavier.
Raven always knows when Charles is home.
It's not the scrape of the key in the lock. It's not the rush of air into the little flat. It's not the voice that hums or complains or grumbles. It's not the thump of his bag and whatever it is he carries around in it.
She is under strict instructions to never, never touch it, and he is the only person she'll ever do that for. She'll rob everyone else blind; she spent years doing just that, and pickpocketing is a sport to her, and everyone else is fair game.
Not him. Not Charles.
Sometimes, when she's lying in bed and she's watching the door with fear and distrust like a cold heavy blanket around her shoulders, she closes her eyes and thinks about the first time she'd ever seen someone smile at her.
Even then Charles had looked like a boy, like he was closer to Raven's own age instead of being, well, Raven still doesn't know how old he is or how much older, and she's tried to ask, and he never answers. Dark hair flopping all over his face; lines in the corners of his eyes. His hands: they looked like they'd been put together wrong for some reason, long and pale and bending at odd angles. Light and dark scars on the skin of his arms.
His voice, and the strange smile on his face, like he was in pain; the ring of shadows around his blue blue eyes. Blue as midnight and ocean depths in her dreams. "I think you need this more than I do." Holding his wallet out to her - the whole thing, not just a crumpled bill or a handful of coins but everything he had. Fumbling for a moment, and offering her the heavy watch he was wearing, as well.
By then, Raven knew who he was.
Charles was hers. Her friend, her protector, her companion. Not family; they'll never be family, because he must have parents and she knows she doesn't have any. But they have each other, and for some reason he needs her, and she wants to stay with him.
Back to the present time. The heavy watch with its metal bracelet and dark blue face on her wrist. She's waiting. Her homework is done. There is dinner waiting on the counter - the sandwiches will be stone-cold by now, but Charles likes it when she cooks, so she's trying to learn. He needs to eat.
The night outside sounds like something lonely. There's a song in it: a sad song, something people sing with tears and with pain, and Raven hums along, making up a melody, joining the wind and the rain in their mourning. She doesn't know everything she's lost, only that she's missing so many parts of her life and not even fifteen yet, and this is one of the nights when she cries for it, though there are no tears in her eyes.
When the door finally creaks open Raven's at the threshold in a beat, and she's offering a watery smile to Charles - who blinks at her, sweeps her with a calculating glance from her blonde hair to her bare feet.
And Charles smiles back.
He looks happy, and he looks like he's been screaming-running-working all day.
She doesn't know what he does when he goes out. Her instincts tell her that she mustn't find out, for fear of breaking the spell. A child's way of looking at the world. It works for her. It keeps her safe.
So she simply holds out her hands and says, "Welcome home, Charles."
And Charles takes her hands and pulls her in, kisses her softly on the top of her head, and says, "I'm home, Raven."
"Can I hug you?"
Charles pulls away and shakes his head gently. "I'm...in a little pain, right now. Perhaps later?"
"Okay." And she worries, but she goes to the counter and gets him something to eat, hands him a bottle of milk from the fridge and she hops up on the table, swings her feet as he eats, talks to him about mathematics and the three chapters he'd asked her to read from The Tenant of Wildfell Hall. She answers his questions and does at least one algebraic equation in her head, and he rewards her with a little smile when she gets it right on the second try.
When he takes off his jacket and crosses the room to hang it up, she catches sight of it. A huge black stain across his back, shoulders to hips, and she just barely stops herself from yelling. She claps her hands over her own mouth. Whispers his name. Crosses the room on silent feet and reaches out to him.
Hard weight clamped around her wrist, just above the watch. Raven goes rigid. Doesn't cry out. Charles is looming over her, blue eyes dark with the things he knows, the things she's not allowed to know. The little rules and warnings around his life and around hers, the things that pull them together, the things that keep them apart.
"Please don't," is all Charles says, however, and then he smiles and Raven knows him again. Knows that smile and all its sharp edges. Knows that with this smile he may hide things from her, but never his heart, and she knows that part of his heart belongs to her - just as he carries part of her heart around with him, just as she knows she looks at him like she looks at no other person in the world. Everyone else is the enemy. Everyone else except Charles.
"I'm sorry," she offers.
"Don't be," he says, and it is Charles who pulls her into a hug. She doesn't know what to do with her hands, and Charles murmurs, "Come on, you know you want to."
"You're hurt."
"I hurt," Charles says, and he is almost cheerful.
Raven holds him as lightly as she can. She hears him hiss in pain, and she trembles for him, and for herself.
"That's it," he says. Again a kiss, this time to her temple. "I know I frighten you sometimes. I'm trying to be better with that. You must be patient with me."
"I'm trying," she says.
A quiet laugh. "That is all I ask from you."
"Charles, I love you."
"I love you, Raven."
The wind howls outside and Raven clings to Charles, her brother and her friend, and she thinks that she'd like to burn the world down for him, if only he'd let her.