Sibling Smarts (X-Men, Charles)

[Dusty15]

Just a little something dreamed up when considering the lovely situation of an over-worked student ending up sick during a busy period at school. This takes place just before X-Men: First Class when Charles is finishing up his thesis at Oxford and Raven is living in England with him

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For someone with a genius intellect, Raven thought, Charles Xavier could be pretty stupid. Whereas he had a healthy dose of intelligence, he sometimes lacked the complementary common sense. It wasn't that he was a dullard when it came to things beyond his studies; it was just that he sometimes forgot anything else existed when he was caught up in books or theories or a particularly stimulating project.

It was why Raven had spent the better part of the morning listening to her adopted brother sniffling and snorting in the adjacent room. It was only a few weeks before the due date for Charles' final graduate thesis and he'd spent an increasing amount of time holed up in his study, though he still seemed to be managing a few trips to the pub. The hours he spent studying and partying were far outweighing those he spent relaxing or sleeping and the schedule appeared to be catching up to him.

She'd confronted him about it over breakfast that morning as she stirred extra honey into his tea and offered to go to the pharmacy for some medicine. He'd told her not to worry and retreated back to the study with his books.

She did worry, even if Charles had annoyed her immensely as of late by treating her like a child. She'd already given up her life in Westchester to come to Oxford while he completed his PhD, and while she tried to be grateful for everything he'd given her, it was easy to get irritated with his arrogance and patronizing attitude. While he revelled in academia and the plentiful co-eds, Raven worked shifts at a local restaurant and waited for their return home. After three years, Charles had just his thesis left to submit and once he'd graduated, they would head back to New York (or so Raven hoped). She was tired him feigning surprise when she arrived home after her work shift and caught him flirting with another ditsy English major in their living room. Sometimes she wondered if she shouldn't have just stayed in America alone.

“I'm headed out,” Charles voice called hoarsely from the foyer. She heard him gathering his bag and keys. “I'll meet you after your shift.”

“Fine,” she replied, glancing at the clock. It was Thursday and while Charles spent a marathon afternoon teaching two undergraduate seminars in genetics followed by office hours, Raven worked lunch and half of the dinner shift. They usually met up afterwards to walk home (or more often, as far as the pub where Charles would sometimes allow her to accompany him inside).

Raven showered and dressed in her uniform before walking to the restaurant. It was a fairly uneventful shift. Early spring in Oxford was still cool and rainy, and the rush of tourists and potential students didn't start until late May. For now, the restaurant was populated by mostly a lazy stream of locals and students.

When seven o'clock rolled around, she hung up her apron and punched her timecard, stopping to count her small pile of tips. Outside, the sky was dark and stormy, with the heavy rain coating the cobbled streets with a sheet of water. Raven opened her umbrella and ducked out into the road. Charles was huddled under the restaurant awning, holding tightly to his own umbrella. He greeted her with a nod and started off down the road.

Raven hurried after him, shouting an irritated “hello to you too!” She caught up to his side and grabbed his arm. He tugged it away with a grunt and huffed a hoarse cough into his sleeve. She finally got a glimpse of his face and was dismayed to see how terrible he looked.

“Long day?” she asked.

“I just have a lot of work to finish tonight,” he said, continuing his steady pace down the road. His breath came in ragged puffs and Raven silently wondered how long he'd keep up the speed. It was clear from the cadence of his wheezy breath alone that the cold she'd suspected that morning had settled its way into his head and chest. His face carried the heavy look of congestion and even in the dim evening light she could see a hint of red around his nose.

Ehh-teshGHEHHT!

With a sudden movement, Charles turned from her and caught a thick sneeze in the crook of his arm. As irritated as she felt with his foul mood, she felt a pang of sympathy. His schedule had finally caught up with him, it seemed.

“Bless you,” she said. He didn't reply but simply sniffled wetly and continued to walk with his head bent down and his umbrella held tight in his grip to shield from the increasingly pelting rainstorm.

They reached the flat and went inside, both shaking rain from their umbrellas and coats. Charles kicked off his shoes and headed for the study, shutting the door behind him. Raven dropped her purse alongside her damp umbrella and followed him, opening the study door and glaring at him from the threshold.

“Are you at least going to change and dry off a bit before you get to work?” she asked, surveying his damp trousers and hair. He was already seated at his desk with his hands hovering over the keys of his electric typewriter.

“I need to get at least thirty pages written tonight,” he snapped. “I'll dry off while I write.”

His voice cracked and dropped in pitch as he spoke. Raven felt the sharp pangs of anger mixed with sympathy in her belly as she curled her hands into tight fists at her side. She stood watching him as he started to type. After a moment, he paused and looked up at her, eyes bright and glassy.

“Is there something I can help you with, Raven?” he asked cooly.

“Yes,” she snapped. “Stop being so ridiculously stupid.”

Turning on her heels, she slammed the study door and went off to the kitchen in a huff. She fixed herself a sandwich and took it back to the living room, flopping angrily down on the couch to eat. From the next room came the sound of two wet and throaty sneezes, muffled by the wall but still audible.

Ehh-tshGXHTT! Nhh-GHXXTT!

Raven looked up at the closed door and gave it her best glare, hoping Charles would telepathically receive her sentiments. She heard the sounds of his footsteps across the room and hoped he was coming out to admit his illness to her, but instead she heard a gurgly noseblow and realized he'd just been going to fetch a box of tissues.

She finished her sandwich and set the plate aside, stretching out on the sofa and opening her novel to read.

Uhhr'tshGHTTT!

Charles sneezed again and Raven was certain she could hear a sigh of exasperation afterwards. The explosion was followed shortly by a series of hoarse coughs and a noseblow that sounded so painfully congested that Raven found herself actually wincing. Shaking her head, she focused again on her book, telling herself that if Charles wanted to work himself to the point of passing out then that was his choice.

Hehh...ehh-TSGHHT! Hehh...nhhh-TSGHHH!

The sneezes sounded inceasingly tired and wet. With a 'snap!', Raven shut her book and sat up, heading for the kitchen where she put on a kettle of tea and buttered some toast. Plate and mug in hand, she went to the student and elbowed the door open, moving to Charles' side and setting down the offerings.

Even after a half-hour, he looked worse. His nose was now a blossoming, angry red around the edges and his eyes looked sunken and dark. He glanced over at the tea and toast before looking up at Raven with a wan smile.

“Thanks,” he said softly. “I could have gotten that.”

“Clearly you're not thinking straight,” she replied. “If you stop before you make yourself pass out, I'll be surprised. You're sick, Charles. And not just a little sick...you sound terrible.”

“I'm fine,” he insisted, turning his attention back to the typewriter.

“You're not,” Raven snapped. “Jesus, Charles, you sound like there's an elephant on your chest and I can barely read a page of my book without hearing you sneeze.”

“I have to finish this,” he replied. “I'm sorry, but I can't have any distractions.”

Raven huffed a laugh.

“Distractions? Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realized me caring about your health was distracting.”

“Raven, seriously,” he said, sounding irritated. “You don't understand.”

She felt her colour begin to rise and she held herself back from cuffing him upside the head.

“I don't understand?” she said incrediously. “I came here with you, Charles. I gave up my life and my school and my friends to come here with you so you could go to Oxford and do this thesis and I'm not going to watch you make youself sick trying to do it.”

“You came here with me because you don't have anyone else,” he said, pushing his chair back from the desk and looking at her with a feverish, intense gaze.

Raven felt like she'd been punched in the gut. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes and she gritted her teeth, trying not to let them spill down her cheeks.

“You're right,” she said, voice wavering. “I don't have anyone else, you stupid idiot. Which is why I care that you're not well. For fucksake, Charles...”

She circled behind him and curled her arms around his neck, letting her head drop down to rest on the top of his. He was uncomfortably warm and his thick hair was still damp with rain.

“Stop treating me like a stupid child,” she said, stroking his collarbone idlely with her fingertips as she held tight to him. “Let me take care of you for once. You're scaring me.”

She felt him relax a little into her embrace.

“Raven,” he said quietly, reaching up to capture her hand in his. “Let me finish these few pages and then I'll change and drink my tea and tuck in for the night, okay?”

“Promise?” she asked. She squinted down at his half-typed page which already had several cross-outs and angry squiggles drawn in red pen. It was evident the work he was getting done wasn't very productive.

“Promise,” he said.

“Good.”

She let go of her grip around his shoulders but briefly let her palm rest again his brow, checking for the fever she suspected he was running. The freckled skin there was, as she suspected, warm and sweaty against her hand.

“You've got a bit of a fever too,” she told him. “Finish up.”

He nodded and turned back to his work. It was like Raven was no longer there when he began typing again. With a sigh, she left him to his studies and went down the hall to his bedroom.

She wasn't surprised to find the bed unmade and several used tissues scattered across his nightstand and the floor alongside the bed. She gathered them into the trash bin and went about tidying the room, changing the sheets and fluffling the duvet back into shape.

Forty five minutes passed as she cleaned the bedroom, laid out fresh pajamas on the bed, and took her evening shower. Concerned that Charles had lied about stopping after the next few pages, she went back to the study and opened the door, prepared to shout at him. Instead, she felt her heart soften when she found him slumped at the desk with his head propped up in his arms, snoring. Circling behind him, she put a comforting hand on his head and rubbed it through his hair, letting her nails lightly scratch his scalp. He stirred, raising his head at her touch and suddenly freezing, his breath sucking in rapidly as his lungs expanded in preparation for a sneeze.

He snapped forward, spraying freely into the air with a wet and throaty Huhhrr-tsghh! which he followed with a groan and a thick sniffle.

“Bless you,” Raven said, reaching for a tissue and handing it over. Charles wadded it up and pressed it to his leaky nose.

“What time is it?” he asked groggily, a hint of panic in his voice.

“Barely nine,” she said. “You just dozed off for a bit. But I think you should go to bed.”

He looked at his typed pages and shook his head.

“This is crap,” he said, frustrated. “I guess you're right.”

Raven tried not to smile at the little victory. For once, she was right.

“C'mon,” she said, tugging at his arm. “I put fresh sheets on the bed and I'll heat up some more tea.”

Charles stood, stretching out tired limbs and popping several joints as he yawned. He headed for his bedroom with a book under his arm while Raven gathered his half-empty mug of tea and the untouched plate of toast. When she approached his room a short while later with a fresh mug of tea, she could hear him coughing from down the hall.

When she opened his door, she found him dressed in his pajamas and sitting on the edge of the bed, bent over in the grip of a fierce coughing fit. His lungs strained with painful wheezes as he gasped between raspy hacks and his face was shiny with exertion. Raven set the mug of tea on the nightstand and hurried to his side, rubbing and patting his back as he fought to calm the fit. When it finally ended and he surfaced with noisy gulps of air, he was wet-faced and runny-nosed, looking utterly miserably sick. She passed him a tissue to clean off his face and he took it with a grunt of gratitude, wiping his nose off and giving several productive blows.

“Do you want some medicine to help you sleep?” she asked. It felt like a strange reversal of roles to be fussing over Charles. Usually he was nagging her about any number of things.

“No,” he said petuantly. “I'll be fine.”

“Suit yourself,” she replied. If he didn't want her help, so be it. She'd tried her best.

“I'll see you in the morning then,” she said, standing and looking back at him with a blank expression. He was already pulling back the covers. “Sleep in.”

“I've got a lecture at ten and I should write some more in the morning,” he said wearily, gesturing to the alarm clock on his bedside table. “I'll get myself up.”

She raised an eyebrow but said nothing, leaving his room and shutting the door behind her.

Sometime around eleven, as Raven lay awake in bed, she heard the sound of Charles coughing in his room down the hall. It seemed to go on for ages, intersperced with what sounded like obnoxiously loud snores. Finally she rose and padded barefoot down the hall, opening his bedroom door to check on him.

He was still asleep as far as she could tell, but his face was shiny with sweat and he was tossing restlessly, sputtering with coughs. His nose was running freely down his face, leaving the area above his lips an angry, chapped red. Curled up in his pajamas with the glowing pink nose and flushed cheeks, Charles looked more boyish than ever and Raven felt a pang of tenderness at the recognition of the young man she'd met in kitchen of the Xavier Mansion all those years ago.

“Charles,” she said, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching out a hand to smooth back his hair. His forehead was uncomfortably warm and sweaty.

“Eww,” Raven muttered under her breath, wiping away the sweat from her palm on the comforter.

“Charles,” she tried again, giving his shoulder a little shake. He snorted in his sleep and rolled over, blinking as he woke.

“Mhm?” he moaned, eyes squinting at her, expression dazed and unfocused. He curled in on himself and coughed hoarsely for a minute. Raven put a hand on his back and rubbed it gently.

“You were coughing a lot in your sleep,” she said once his lungs quieted. “And you've got a fever. I think you should take something.”

He took a moment to process her words, still clearly sleep-addled.

“I guess,” he conceeded with a heavy sigh, his hand scrubbing wearily over his face.

“I'll get the medicine and some water,” Raven said, standing and smoothing out the tangled sheets, tucking them around Charles.

She went to fetch the pill bottle from the washroom and poured a glass of water into the toothbrush cup, also taking a moment to soak a washcloth in cool water and wringing it out until it was just damp. Carrying her supplies back to Charles' room, she set the washcloth aside and offered up a pill and the water glass. Charles took the pill and drank the rest of the water thirstily before collapsing back into his pillow.

“That should help,” Raven said, sitting on the edge of the bed again and reaching out with the washcloth to wipe Charles' face. “And we'll get you a little cooler.”

“I'm fine,” Charles said grumpily, though he didn't shrink away from the cool cloth. Raven pushed it back along his forehead and smoothed away his fringe.

“There,” she said, settling the cloth across his brow. “Now back to sleep.”

Charles' head bobbed forward in reply with a sneeze.

Ehh-TSGHT!

His head dipped into his pillow and he left a blossoming damp spot on the pillowcase that he tried in vain to wipe away as he sniffled wetly.

“Bless you,” she said. “Good night.”

“G'night,” he replied, closing his eyes and letting his head sink into the pillow.

Raven was barely at the door before he was snoring again. Pausing at the threshold, she turned and looked back, eying his alarm clock. Before she could think twice, she went over and flipped the switch to disable the alarm. She'd make excuses for Charles' lecture in the morning...he needed the sleep.

Satisfied, she went back to bed and slept until her own alarm went off. She showered, dressed, and went down the hall to find Charles' room still dark and quiet. Gently, she pushed open the door and found him still asleep, hair plastered to his forehead and his limbs sprawled across the bed. He was snoring quietly with a distinct wheezing sound as air struggled to get through the congestion in his nose. It was just past nine; plenty of time to call Charles' department and put in a cancellation for his ten o'clock lecture.

Shutting the door, Raven went down to the study and dialed the Department of Biology and Genetics, leaving a message for Charles' advisor that he was too unwell to give the day's lecture.

It was just after ten when she heard the thumps and bangs coming from his room followed by the slamming of his door. He appeared in the living room, hair wild from sleep and eyes glassy and unfocused.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?!” he asked, his voice a hoarse and high-pitched whine.

“Yes,” Raven said cooly. “Just after ten.”

“I said I have a lecture at ten and I wanted to be up before then to write,” he said. “I am certain I turned on my alarm. So can you please explain to me why it didn't go off.”

“I turned it off. I called your advisor and said you were too unwell to teach. They'll cancel the class or send someone else to lecture.”

“Jesus, Raven!” Charles growled. “Didn't you think I might want to make my own decisions about whether or not I—ehhh...hehh-TSGHH!”

A sneeze interupted him, forcing his head to snap downwards and into the shield of his raised arm. It was distinctly throaty sounding and his nose made a squelching sound when he sniffled afterwards. Raven could tell simply from the tired, open-mouthed expression he had that he was uncomfortably congested.

“Bless you,” she said. “Clearly you're ill. And no, I didn't think there was a decision to be made judging by the state you were in last night when I turned off the alarm. And I think it's pretty clear I made the right decision.”

“It wasn't your decision,” Charles said distractedly. He was holding his hand over his nose, trying to stop a leak of congestion as he looked around for a tissue. Raven located the box on an end table and held it out with a stern expression.

“Well, I made it anyway,” she said as Charles took a handful of tissues. “So I suggest you take yourself back to bed and accept the circumstances.”

If looks could kill, Charles' was potential fatal. With a huff, he turned and retreated back to the bedroom. Raven watched with a smug look of satisfaction that was lost a brief minute later when Charles reappeared in his bathrobe, heading for the study.

“Are you kidding me?” she shouted, watching him head inside towards his typewriter.

“You may have prevented my work on campus, but there are things to finish here,” he croaked, settling down in his desk chair.

Raven rolled her eyes and stood up, moving to the study doorframe and leaning on it.

“Suit yourself,” she said, taking in the sight of her red-nosed and sniffly brother with his fingers poised over the keys. “I've got a shift today; I'll see you when I get home. Don't work too hard.”

He was already consumed by his work, reading back the previous day's pages, and didn't reply. Raven went to the kitchen and fixed a cup of tea, grumbling all the while, and delivered it to the study before she headed out.

“Thank you,” Charles said quietly when she put the steaming mug at his side.

“Drink it before it gets cold,” she replied. “See you later.”

It was early evening before she returned to the flat. It was dark except for the lights in the study. Dropping her purse in the hall, she headed there, ready to give Charles a piece of her mind for spending all day at work instead of in bed.

She found him on the couch instead of at the desk. He was curled up, hugging a throw pillow to his chest, and shivering so violently at first she thought he was coughing silenty.

“Charles!” she said, dropping to her knees at his side and pressing a hand to his forehead. He wasn't particularly feverish, but definitely warm. His teeth chattered audibly and he opened his eyes with a weak groan.

“C'mon,” she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You need to be in bed.”

He sat up slowly, allowing her to grab him around the waist and guide him to his bedroom. He fell into bed and she pulled the blankets around him, tucking them tight at the edges.

“I'll be right back,” she said, leaning forward to plant a kiss on his cheek. He lay heavy against the pillows, eyes closing.

She went to the bathroom to fetch the hot water bottle and put a kettle on in the kitchen to fill it. Warm package in hand, she went back to his room and pulled back the blankets, settling the bottle against his chest. He gave a small half-smile and opened his eyes a bit.

“Thanks,” he rasped.

“I have been telling you to rest for two days now,” she said, exasperated. “It takes violent shivers to finally get you properly tucked in bed?”

He shrugged and huffed a wheezy cough into the pillow. One cough turned to another and he was caught in a little fit, shuddering and hacking until his cheeks flushed pink. Raven rubbed his back and spoke softly to him, soothing the fit away until he lay quiet again with his arms hugging the hot water bottle to his chest.

“How long were you lying on the couch in there?” she asked, smoothing back his hair as he closed his eyes again.

“I don't know,” he said, voice barely a whisper. “A while. I got some pages done and made myself some soup for lunch but then I was so tired...and I was achy...sitting in the chair hurt. And then I fell asleep on the couch for a bit but I woke up and I was so cold. And then you came home.”

“I think you have the flu,” she said. “No more work, Charles.”

“There's a deadline,” he murmured.

“And you'll get it done. You're a genius, Charles Xavier. I think you can manage to write a silly little thesis. You've only written two for your Master's degrees already.”

“Not in genetics.”

“It's your best subject, stupid,” she said, smiling affectionately at him. “One might even argue you're too familiar with it.”

Perhaps, Charles' voice said inside her head. Even mentally, he sounded tired.

“Rest,” she said, rubbing his back again. “You'll get better faster if you rest and then you can get back to work, you idiot.”

You're right, he told her. Thank you.

You're welcome, she replied silently. Of course I'm right.

There was quiet as he slipped off into sleep. Raven retrieved her novel from the living room and stretched out at his side on the bed. There was no way she was going to let him out of bed anytime soon. Especially not now he'd admitted for once that she was right. Such rare occurances were not to be taken lightly, she thought with a smile.

[Spoo]

Um. Why was this not written into the movie?????

Holy crap, Dusty! THIS IS AMAZING. I absolutely love how you wrote the both of them: Charles' workaholic tendencies, Raven's sassiness. You captured their sibling relationship beautifully. I'm also super impressed with the 'back in the day' feel of the fic!

I think my favorite part was Charles flipping out about being late for his lecture, and Raven just being like "LOL, go back to bed." (To be honest, I thought she was going to call Charles' advisor and imitate Charles' voice to call out or something ). Raven doesn't have time for Charles' BS. Nope.

But yeah, this needed to be written and you nailed it, sista!

[AngelEyes]

Wonderful!

[sapphiremint]

You wrote them both so well, I can totally imagine this being like some obscure deleted treasure of a scene. Love love loved it!

[MyOwnPrivateSFC]

This = awesome.

[silentdreamer789]

100% win!

Edited September 24, 2014 by silentdreamer789

[snuffles]

Aaawww poor Charles! I think you nailed their relationship perfectly. Caring but not smothering, and the stubbornness of both as a play of power is so great!

I also was fascinated with the non-emphasis on the actual mutant abilities. You can really just see that side of them that makes them human. <3

[Orb]

This is awesome!

[Salamander]

yay, really enjoyed this. You write them both beautifully, and I hadn't really thought about how it would be Raven to live alone with Charles studying so much. Yum.

[Guest]

This was great - thank you for posting. And from personal experience of Oxford, totally believable I really liked the dynamics between them.