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‘I’ve got the letter with me now,’ Raven said quietly, her voice trembling slightly as she pressed her hand across her chest. ‘I always carry it with me, so I – so I never forget why I’m out here.’ She paused. Her next words were hesitant, tremulous. ‘Do – do you want to read it?’
Erik, who had sat in silence throughout the whole recitation of Raven’s story, slowly brought his eyes down to where her hand was protectively huddled against her chest. There was never any doubt in his mind whether or not he ought to read the letter. He wanted to read it. To read something of Charles’s … the temptation was more than enough. But to read a letter that he had written to his sister immediately prior to his disappearance? The information within might very well prove invaluable.
Slowly, he nodded his head.
‘I think I ought to,’ he said gently, trying to conceal any feelings of over-eagerness or misplaced enthusiasm.
But Raven simply nodded and, reaching into the folds of her shirt, gently drew out a small white envelope from somewhere within. Grasping it carefully with both of his hands, Erik took the envelope from her and brought it towards him. Then, with bated breath, he gingerly opened the envelope and drew out the paper within.
It had been over three years since the letter had been written and, although obviously well-kept and treasured, the paper showed signs of wear and tear around the edges. Erik carefully he unfolded the letter, determined not to cause any further damage to it. Then, holding it by the edges, he cast his eyes upon the large curling letters and began to read.
The letter was short:
My darling Raven, it said.
By the time you read this you will undoubtedly have realised that five years have not passed and that the terms of your contract have been somewhat altered. Perhaps by now you have even discovered that I am not (as I once jokingly promised you I would always be) waiting for you at home like the overbearing, old-fashioned brother that you have forever accused me of being. I also suspect that, in reading this letter, whatever small suspicions that you may have had have now been confirmed, if they haven’t been already by our mutual acquaintance, Miss Frost.
However, before I continue any further, I feel the need to stress this one point that I fear you might overlook in your concern for me: Raven, I chose this. This was solely my decision and as much as I know that you will detest it – will detest me for it – I could not do anything less. You have trusted me all your life, my darling – I can only hope that you are able to trust me again when I say that no one else is to blame for this. I alone decided and so I alone must take the blame.
That being said: I am sorry. I am so very sorry. Please forgive me, dearest. You will curse and rage at me for doing this, but alas – I am a terribly selfish man. Unable to bear the thought of you in such a vile place, I selfishly sought to trade positions so that it is now you who has to bear the brunt of the pain and the fear whilst I rest unburdened. I know what you must think of me, Raven, but you were always stronger than me; where I would crumble and head for the bottle as our dear mother did, you, I know, will carry on. That is all that I wish for you, my darling: for you to carry on. Forget me, if you can; for these five years, at least. Do everything that you ever wanted that I was too afraid – too cowardly – to let you do. Live the way that you were meant to, and try not to think of me. We will be back together soon, dearest. Five years, is, after all, not so very long.
Never forget that I love you,
Your brother,
Charles F. Xavier
Erik was silent. He read it again – twice, thrice more. Then he gently folded the letter and carefully inserted it back into its envelope. Making sure that it was safely inside, he then slowly reached out and passed the envelope back to Raven, who received it with a similarly grave silence.
Erik cleared his throat awkwardly.
‘It’s …’ he searched for a suitable word to describe what he had read. ‘It’s …’
‘It’s a crock of shit,’ Raven interrupted him before he could settle on any appropriate word. She forced out a ragged laugh at Erik’s look of surprise. ‘I love my brother very much, Erik, but I swear to god that he is also the stupidest, most self-righteous, interfering, god-awful prick that the world has ever seen.’
Erik’s eyebrows drew down at that. Raven watched him knowingly.
‘I know you don’t want to hear it,’ she said with a shrug, smiling grimly. ‘But it’s the truth. He’s a bastard. A goddamn stupid bastard who thinks he knows better than everyone else about absolutely everything. Never mind that it was my decision, that it was my life! No, he had to come swooping in and save poor little Raven just as always. “I am a terribly selfish man” he says – goddamn right, he is! Bastard,’ she spat, but Erik could see that she actually looked very close to tears. ‘He had no fucking right.’
Erik reached out to gingerly pat her on the knee and she seized his hand tightly, squeezing it with her fist as if for reassurance. They stayed like that for a while, neither of them speaking, but silently leaning on each other as they each immersed themselves in their thoughts.
‘I’m going to get him out,’ Raven said suddenly in a small voice, breaking Erik out of his gloomy reverie. ‘I’m not going to let him continue with this idiocy – I’m not going to let him continue to be a fucking martyr. I won’t.’
‘Yes,’ Erik said, patting her hand.
‘It’s been long enough,’ Raven continued, almost seeming to be oblivious of Erik’s presence at her side. ‘Too much time has been wasted. I need to get Charles out. Now.’
‘Soon,’ Erik tightened his grip on Raven’s knee. ‘Not just yet, but soon.’
Raven’s eyes cut to him with a sudden look of fury which disappeared in the next instant as Raven got a hold of herself.
‘You’re right,’ she said with effort. ‘Perhaps not just yet. But soon.’
‘Soon,’ Erik repeated. Then, after a pause, he said more cautiously, ‘Raven, this person that your brother mentions in the letter – this Miss Frost. I don’t recall you having mentioned her name when you were telling me about her. Do you by any chance remember what her first name was?’
Raven didn’t answer immediately. Her mouth was pursed and she almost seemed to be having some sort of internal debate within herself. Finally, she grimaced and dropped her head in a stiff little nod.
‘Yes,’ she said softly. ‘I do. It was Emma. Emma Frost.’
Erik nodded, quickly tucking this piece of information away in his head. He deliberately tried not to wonder why Raven had neglected to share the name with him when telling her story.
‘You won’t find anything,’ Raven said abruptly. ‘You can try to find her but you probably won’t. She’ll have covered her tracks. No one will have the slightest clue who she is. Strange, really, considering that she looked like she’d just walked off a runway.’ Raven’s face twisted into a grimace as she turned to look at Erik. ‘She was stunning, you know. I mean, really fucking beautiful in a cold, ice-queen sort of way. Pale and blonde and gorgeous.’ The bitter look in Raven’s eye did not match her appreciative words. ‘Like a fucking angel, all in white.’
Erik watched her for a moment.
‘Could you perhaps describe her face, if you remember it?’ he asked quietly, his eyes fixed intently on her face. ‘Put together a composite with one of the sketch artists?’
Raven merely shrugged.
‘Sure,’ she answered carelessly. ‘Why not. It won’t matter. You won’t find anything on her. You didn’t exactly find anything on Shaw either.’
Erik’s heart started to beat faster.
‘Shaw?’ he asked in a deliberately mild tone. ‘Did this Frost woman ever say anything to you about him?’
Raven shook her head impatiently before suddenly stilling, a wary look crossing her face before she turned to Erik.
‘No,’ she said decisively. ‘No, she didn’t say anything.’
‘But you knew he was involved?’ Erik pressed. ‘Before we got the anonymous letter – you knew he was involved in the Dollhouse?’
Raven let go of Erik’s hand and turned to glare at him.
‘What is this, an interrogation?’ she asked sharply.
‘You know it isn’t,’ Erik replied, barely able to conceal his impatience. ‘It’s just that you knew that there was something strange going on with the Shaw Foundation and it was only by breaking into their headquarters that you found the Dollhouse-’
‘They found me,’ Raven corrected him, her eyes narrowed.
‘Yes,’ Erik continued. ‘But then you must have already known that Sebastian Shaw was involved – that he was behind this whole damned enterprise!’
Raven ripped herself away from Erik’s side, a flurry of emotions crossing her face.
‘You are interrogating me!’ she breathed, her eyes wide.
‘No,’ Erik said calmly, ‘I am not.’
‘You are!’ Raven’s eyes narrowed and it was clear that she was getting worked up. ‘You keep glaring at me and asking me questions and accusing me of-’
‘No one’s accusing anybody of anything!’ Erik snapped, unable to reign in his temper. ‘For god’s sake, Raven, don’t start this again. I’m trying to help you!’
Raven fell silent at that, Erik’s words seemingly bringing her back to herself. She still looked slightly wary of Erik, however, as if she were afraid that he was going to turn on her when she wasn’t looking.
Erik sighed.
‘Raven,’ he said in as gentle a voice as he could manage. ‘I promise, I am not attacking you or interrogating you. I just want the same thing that you want.’ He paused. ‘I want to find Charles.’
Raven’s shoulders slumped at that and she nodded, shifting back so that she was closer to Erik.
‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘I just – I guess I was so used to keeping everything a secret for so long that I didn’t really … I don’t know. Yes,’ she finally said, raising her chin and looking Erik straight in the eyes. ‘Yes, I knew that Shaw was involved. Well – I didn’t know for sure, but I suspected. It is the Shaw Foundation, after all – how could he not? And then there was Charles.’ Her face darkened. ‘Charles had met Shaw much before this – at one of his boring university events, I think it was. He mentioned then that Shaw had been all – well, skeevy is probably the right word. Said that Shaw had kept hitting on him the whole way through and was really disgustingly obvious about it. Pushy, even.’
Erik felt like someone had dropped a bucket of ice down the back of his shirt. His stomach twisted and he deliberately tamped down on the pang of nausea that threatened to overwhelm him. He had always known that what had happened to Charles was wrong but if Raven was suggesting what he thought that she was suggesting …
‘You know what I think?’ Raven was saying, her expression carefully blank even though Erik could see the way that her eyes blazed with molten fury as she spoke, ‘I think that everything that happened to us was Shaw’s fault. I think that Shaw had his eye on Charles way before they even met.’ She paused. ‘Charles was a geneticist, you know. A full-fledged professor of genetics and a brilliant scientist to boot. And he was brilliant,’ she said, turning to Erik, and there was a fierce pride etched deep into her face. ‘Truly brilliant. Always at the forefront of ground-breaking research, winning awards left and right … I’m not surprised that Shaw wanted him. For his Foundation, I mean. At least – I reckon that’s probably how it was at first.’ She grimaced, a spike of pain entering her features. ‘And then – and then he actually met Charles and decided that he wanted him even more, only for a completely different reason.’
Erik swallowed, unable to speak. He was torn between feeling abject horror at Charles’s situation and unbridled anger and disgust at Sebastian Shaw. Whatever he had felt for the man before on discovering him to be the founder of the Dollhouse was nothing compared to the loathing that Erik now felt for him; the fact that he had never even met the man mattered little.
Raven was still speaking, unmindful of Erik’s seething rage, her eyes glassy and unfocused.
‘The thing is,’ she was saying, sounding very small and young, ‘I’ve been thinking about it and I’m not sure that Charles even knew that Shaw was behind this. I mean – of course he knew that Shaw wanted him, and I’m sure that he must have realised that the Shaw Foundation was behind the Dollhouse, but I don’t think that he ever put the two together. Not really. I don’t think he realised why it was that they allowed a trade in the first place.’ Raven choked a little, bringing her hands to her eyes. ‘I don’t think that it even occurred to him that he was being specifically targeted, that not only would someone want him that much, but that they would go to such lengths to get what they wanted. He just – he would never have dreamed that people could be so evil.’
Erik felt his hands tighten into fists. He hated that even as his mind revolted at that thought of what was happening to Charles, his heart couldn’t help but silently rejoice to hear that Charles Xavier appeared to be as good as he had always imagined him to be. Erik’s mind then flickered over to the smiling image affixed to the wall of his apartment and insides twisted painfully. It was hard enough for him to picture what Charles might be going through. He couldn’t even imagine what Raven must be feeling.
‘He was always so very determined on trying to protect me from everything,’ Raven said numbly, staring down at her hands. ‘He’d never let me out of the house, if he had his way.’ She turned and gave Erik a faint smile. ‘The product of having to act like the grown-up when our parents couldn’t be bothered, I’m afraid. He was a very serious child, you know. Took his responsibilities towards me very seriously. He never seemed to realise that he was the one who might need looking after – not as a child, and certainly not as an adult.’
She fell silent after a moment and neither of them spoke for a good few minutes. When Raven did next speak, however, her voice was low and barely audible.
‘The worst thing is,’ she whispered hoarsely, her face looking white and brittle, ‘That I can’t stop thinking of what it’s like for Charles when Shaw comes to him. Does he know, do you think? Would Shaw want that, for Charles to be himself when he …’ she choked and turned her face away for a moment. ‘Or would he prefer someone else entirely; just a pretty, docile little doll in a Charles costume?’
Erik, although he felt sick inside, finally forced himself to speak.
‘You shouldn’t think like that,’ he growled, staring angrily at the floor.
Raven gave a hopeless little laugh.
‘Why not?’ she asked. ‘The only one it’s hurting is me.’
Erik scowled.
‘It’s not-’ he began, before shaking his head and starting again. ‘Thinking like that won’t help you find him,’ he said in a gentle voice.
Raven was silent for a moment. Then she slowly raised her head and looked him straight in the eye.
‘No,’ she agreed evenly. ‘No, it won’t help me to find him. But it will help me for when I finally find Shaw and rip his fucking heart out.’
And Erik, who couldn’t find it in himself to disagree, said nothing.