Room 306, Sunday night
Mar. 30th, 2014 11:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tigerundercoverAlright. Raven had put this off long enough. It was time to stop pretending everything was okay and actually confirm that everything was really okay.
She called Charles.
"Xavier residence,"
"Becky," Raven said, smiling down the line. "Hi, it's Raven. Is Charles available?"
"Raven, honey! We were just talking about you. Let me find him." There was a rustling as Becky muffled the receiver with her apron. "Master Charles, Raven is on the line for you!" She never did that very well.
Raven would have held her breath if Becky hadn't wanted to make small talk while they waited. At least the serving staff at the Xavier house still wanted to talk to her?
Then, finally, the was another rustle, a few clicks, and her brother's voice.
"Raven. We haven't heard from you in awhile."
She choked, pressing her hand to her mouth, and wishing the tiny phone was a little bigger so she didn't feel she might break it if she clutched it too hard.
". . . Raven? Is everything alright?"
She opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He sounded worried. He sounded like he cared. He sounded -- like everything was perfectly normal, except for the part where she wasn't talking at all.
"You know I can't read you from there, Raven, you have to actually speak to me."
"You promised never to read my mind," she said, her voice hitching.
"Yes, well, when you're too upset to speak, sometimes I don't have a choice, do I?" It was a friendly sort of teasing, and the tension drained out of Raven with a rush so hard she burst into tears.
Eventually, he got the story out of her. The weather machine, the breaking of time and space, her living in the vents, then becoming a Soviet agent -- and the strange other Charles and the words he'd said in the swamp. Charles listened to it all with his usual patience and quiet calm that had gotten her through so many rough nights when they were small, when she'd first come to live with him and was still afraid of everything that moved. And then he'd geeked out about the physics of such an event until she was choking on giggles instead of sobs.
Any Raven who didn't have a Charles was a lesser Raven, to be sure. And if she fell asleep with her phone still cradled against her head, well. It wasn't as though she hadn't done stranger things.
She called Charles.
"Xavier residence,"
"Becky," Raven said, smiling down the line. "Hi, it's Raven. Is Charles available?"
"Raven, honey! We were just talking about you. Let me find him." There was a rustling as Becky muffled the receiver with her apron. "Master Charles, Raven is on the line for you!" She never did that very well.
Raven would have held her breath if Becky hadn't wanted to make small talk while they waited. At least the serving staff at the Xavier house still wanted to talk to her?
Then, finally, the was another rustle, a few clicks, and her brother's voice.
"Raven. We haven't heard from you in awhile."
She choked, pressing her hand to her mouth, and wishing the tiny phone was a little bigger so she didn't feel she might break it if she clutched it too hard.
". . . Raven? Is everything alright?"
She opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He sounded worried. He sounded like he cared. He sounded -- like everything was perfectly normal, except for the part where she wasn't talking at all.
"You know I can't read you from there, Raven, you have to actually speak to me."
"You promised never to read my mind," she said, her voice hitching.
"Yes, well, when you're too upset to speak, sometimes I don't have a choice, do I?" It was a friendly sort of teasing, and the tension drained out of Raven with a rush so hard she burst into tears.
Eventually, he got the story out of her. The weather machine, the breaking of time and space, her living in the vents, then becoming a Soviet agent -- and the strange other Charles and the words he'd said in the swamp. Charles listened to it all with his usual patience and quiet calm that had gotten her through so many rough nights when they were small, when she'd first come to live with him and was still afraid of everything that moved. And then he'd geeked out about the physics of such an event until she was choking on giggles instead of sobs.
Any Raven who didn't have a Charles was a lesser Raven, to be sure. And if she fell asleep with her phone still cradled against her head, well. It wasn't as though she hadn't done stranger things.
