Come Home (Cherik fanfiction)

Chapter Fifteen

 (A/N): So this Chapter isn't completely about Charles and Erik except: EVERYTHING IN THIS CHAPTER IS ABOUT CHARLES AND ERIK. You'll have to squint, but if you look close enough, to your left you will see me trying to use RavenxEmma exposition within dialogue to explain or metaphorically clear-up Cherik conflict/tension. I hope I did okay. Like I've said before, I LOVE feedback and your guys' comments and votes are what keep me going. I swear. Another thing I did was show a different side of Emma. Remember the Emma that you're used to? The one that eats the hearts of men and her enemies (the two are not mutually exclusive)? Well, I BROUGHT HER BACK!!! But I like to think she can be both of them. Ya know? Nurturing and slightly vunerable, but also sociopathic (those are always fun to write) and slightly homicidal. But this chapter destroys that hope. Love you guys. Let me know what you think. Things should be getting back to normal next update.

DFTBA

Charles

He didn't leave the bed until the sun was at its highest. That's not when he woke up -- oh no, he had been up since six, when Erik had snuck out of the house; shame, guilt, curiosity, and (still) arousal pulling Charles out of his own uneasy sleep -- but he was just sitting there. In the corner, behind the door, there was a shiny, metal wheelchair staring himself in the face and a note on his bedside table reading:

Charles

Ring for Emma or I when you wake up. You reached out last night; we need to talk.

I love you.

- Raven

He had read it and re-read it over and over again.

So it wasn't a dream: he had his telepathy back. Usually, after a session in Cerebro like the other day, Charles telepathy didn't come back for a very long time. It took a lot out of him since his injury. He didn't know why, but it did. His range was considerably better, no doubt. But each time he used it, his 'dry spells' lasted longer and longer. He didn't mind much and he didn't let on too terribly to Hank, but he was afraid that anymore usage of the machine would cause him further damage.

He sighed. He couldn't just sit there all day in thought. There were things to figure out, and he didn't want to rely on his sister or Emma -- especially since he didn't even know if he trusted the woman -- to do things for him.

But how to call him? He couldn't feel them. He couldn't even hear a rustle throughout the house, telepathically or otherwise.

Raven? He tried, hoping that maybe--

Charles! It's about time! I was getting worried. Are you ready for visitors?

Before he couldn't even think of answer or celebrate the fact that there was a response, her stark blue form was standing right in front of him.

"Raven!" he scolded. "A little more warning next time?"

She just smiled and lifted up her and pointed it at the corner behind the door.

"Sorry, but I've been learning camouflage! I wanted to know if I could fool the great," she winced, and he heard a squeak groaned from the wheelchair. "Charles Xavier!" Suddenly, the wheelchair practically flew to her side and bounced off of her hip. "Ow." she muttered, frowning, rubbing her hand over her bone.

He hadn't noticed her fingers turn a cream color and become calloused like her German bosses.

Instead of noticing and asking her questions, his hand flew out automatically and brushed over her hip. "How did you do that? Wha-What was that?" He asked, sounding more wondered than terrified.