Come Home (Cherik fanfiction)

Chapter Four

Charles

Hank and Sean set her down straight across from him in a twine, old chair. He could feel reluctance emitting off of her, discomfort and nostalgia following behind. They were almost spread across his own features, but he couldn't help but smile at her . . . shyness.

That had been her chair, after-all. He was sure it didn't serve her as well now, but on the back (as they both knew clearly) if someone looked, they'd find a clearly written word: Raven on the back, written in blue crayon (ironically). However, sitting in the chair now, he knew, was not Raven and therefore was no longer sitting on her property (not ironically).

"Hello." he greeted. "I apologize for my boys' reaction." she flinched. "But I suppose they are a bit on edge." Charles turned to them, knowing that she would have some sort of retort to that that would out her to the boys.

"Thank you very much, Hank, Sean." They nodded, frowning. "Alex, if you would be so kind as to show them to the destined location, I would be most grateful."

Alex, noticing what calm Charles was trying to keep up, flashed a dazzling, charming smile that masked his growl. He narrowed his eyes at Raven's form but said nothing obvious.

"Yes, professor." He said, turning and putting a respective hand on both Sean and Hank's shoulder, ushering them out quickly.

Charles flinched at the sickly sweet tone.

The door was shut with and obvious slam, and Charles tried not to listen to what was going on outside. He stared at the door intently, though, daring any one of them to come smashing in, accusing Charles of lying and Raven of . . . whatever made them feel anger and hurt when they passed by her room, or saw one of her free weights laying wherever she had left them.

Hank, he knew, had it quite rough when she left.

When he deemed them far enough away from the room, he looked back to Raven, who was now wrapped in a soft, white blanket that had been laying over the back of the chair.

She was also in her natural form, which didn't surprise him at all.

She was clutching the blanket to her chest, the white fabric clashing against her blue lips as they trembled just a hairline above the seams.

"That was a low blow, Charles, especially for you." she said quietly, staring at him with hurt, yellow eyes.

He narrowed his eyes and gave her a pointed look. He did not really understand what she meant, nor did he understand the hurt that she was (obviously purposely) projecting towards him.

He cocked his head to the side. "What are you talking about?" he asked her quietly.

She scoffed. "Having 'your boys'," She sounded utterly disgusted. "Escort me to you!" She all but shouted.

He raised an eyebrow, determine to stay calm. "I could have had you escorted out. You should be grateful that I didn't just enter your mind at the edge of my property and told you that you never had been here at all."

It hadn't been a thought in his mind to say it, but when it was said, he was surpirsed at how serious he sounded.

He was threating to erase her entire childhood and he didn't sound, for a moment, like he would hesitate.

She gapsed. "You would never!"

He crossed his arms and threw his novel onto the coffee table. "Would I ever have to?" He asks her, a pathetic, but still reasonable attempt at deflection. "Honestly, Raven, would I ever have to think about it?"