Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A/N: I came up with the idea for this fic after I posted One Night, but because I had so much writer's block, I could only tackle it one bit at a time. For those of you who support the Charles/Raven pairing and have read my previous X-Men stories, I hope this was worth the long wait. Thanks for reading! :)

"The interpretation of dreams is the royal road to a knowledge of the unconscious activities of the mind" — Sigmund Freud

It was another empty day in Charles Xavier's life. Sprawled out on the couch in the living room, he was dressed in the same ratty, old bathrobe he had been wearing for the past three days. He raised the glass of Bourbon to his lips and took another gulp. With every sip of alcohol and every injection he took from the serum Hank created for his ability to walk, he sank deeper into isolated numbness. In a single moment he went from having it all to losing the things most dear to him. His students and instructors had either been drafted into the war or returned home. He lost the natural use of his legs, been abandoned by his best friend, and told the only girl who ever truly loved him to leave. The world had turned its back on him, and so he chose to do the same. Now there was nothing but this. Hank's loyalty, the booze, the serum, and his family's fortune were the only things he had left.

"Charles," a familiar female voice said his name.

The unshaven hermit looked up from his drink and saw Raven in her natural form, staring at him quietly from across the room. The silence between them was deafening, overwhelming. He wanted to bring her into his arms and hold her for all eternity. He wanted to scream at her until he was blue in the face. He wanted to keep her in the mansion and never let her go. He wanted to hurt her as much as she hurt him. Instead, he somehow managed to remain calm on the surface, swirling the dark liquid in his glass.

"The school looks terrible. Why are you lounging around in your bathrobe in the middle of the day?"

Once she spotted the half-empty liquor bottles scattered about, along with the recently used syringe and rubber band sitting beside him, he knew what was coming next.

"What happened to you?"

"Surprise, surprise. This is the life of Professor Charles Xavier after his sister and best friend abandon him."

"You've been like this ever since we left?"

"Not at first. I still had Hank, Alex, and Sean. Everything was fine... until the war got worse. Hank was the only one who refused to abandon me."

"Stop saying that."

"How else you would describe it?"

"I couldn't stay with you forever."

"Why not? Did I treat you so horribly that you had to get away from me?"

"You told me to go with Erik!"

"And you listened! After everything we went through together, how could you leave me on that beach in Cuba and join his bloody cause?"

"Erik accepted me! He loved me for what I was! He didn't try to change me into something I wasn't!"

"I never tried to change you, Raven. I only wanted to protect you."

"By encouraging me to use a 'cure' that would fix my 'cosmetic problem'?"

He winced upon hearing the words he chose to describe her mutation, suddenly realizing how hurtful they were.

"Admit it. You couldn't stand the sight of my skin blue."

"That is not true and you know it. I just didn't think it was proper for you to be walking around naked."

"Erik thought I was beautiful."

Charles scoffed at her, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"Well, it's more than I can say about you or Hank!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Silence filled the room as he watched Raven's natural form shift into the current age of her human form. When the transformation was complete, the bathrobe-clad recluse no longer saw a seventeen-year-old girl with an angelic face and peace-loving nature. He saw an attractive young woman with self-confidence and a serious demeanor. Her hair was straighter, slightly shorter, several different shades of blonde highlighted throughout. From the attire she chose to wear, he could see how fit she was. The denim bell bottoms hugged her hips nicely, while the mint green crop top showed off her well-toned abs and revealed enough cleavage that he could already feel the blood rushing to his loins. He knew this outfit was intended to make a point—that her human form could do things to him her natural form had never been able to. A combination of fear and arousal stirred inside of him. On one hand, he was frightened to find himself attracted to the very mutant he considered his sister. On the other hand, he knew how she felt about him and it made him realize how complicated their relationship really was. His Raven had grown into a beautiful, strong, independent woman, and he yearned for her.

Oh, the unspeakable things he could do to her.

If he was able to see through the fog of his high, or if there was an ounce of sobriety left in him, his desire for Raven might seem inappropriate, immoral. But Charles was powerless. His loneliness consumed him. He wanted to take her on this couch—the bedroom was too far—ravish her until neither one of them could breath, and he didn't give a damn who saw them. He wanted to claim what Erik had stolen from him, make her his once and for all.

"You can't even hide it," the blonde interrupted his train of thought.

"Hide what?"

"Charles, you're practically undressing me with your eyes."

"Care to give me a better offer?" he grinned mischievously.

Irritated, Raven folded her arms across herself. "Is that the booze talking or you?"

"Both."

Shocked by his bluntness, she hesitantly stepped forward. Once she stood above him, his fingers touched her outer thigh and skirted along her hipbone before his hand settled below her ribs. He caressed the smooth, bare skin with his thumb and she inhaled sharply. Satisfied by her reaction, Charles set his glass on the coffee table, shoved the syringe and rubber band aside, grabbed her arm, and pulled her down to the couch. He took ahold of her hand, kissing the inside of her palm. He kissed her fingertips and their eyes met in a tender, heartfelt gaze. When he noticed that she was about to ruin the moment by talking, he stopped her.

"Don't say anything, love."

Complying to his request, she didn't say a word. He reached up to kiss her forehead, like he had done countless times when they were growing up. He kissed her right temple, the contact lingering a little longer. He used the tip of his nose to nuzzle her cheek and take in the sweet scent of her shampoo. His lips ghosted over her cheek and brushed along her jawline. Upon reaching her neck and collarbone, her breathing hitched. Afraid he went too far, he looked up at her with concern. Torn between panic and lust, between the relationship they had formed as adoptive siblings and her suppressed feelings for him, Raven's heart won out in the end and she pulled him into a passionate kiss.

Kissing her back hungrily, Charles closed his eyes, pressed his body against hers, and lowered them to the couch. She parted her lips and their tongues soon clashed in an epic duel for dominance. His hands wandered everywhere—running up and down her sides, cupping her perfect breasts, grabbing her firm ass. When lack of oxygen finally forced the pair to separate, he attacked her throat and she raked her fingers through his long, messy hair. His lips traveled down to the valley of her breasts, planting butterfly kisses on her cleavage, which caused her to cry out his name in ecstasy. His fingers darted for the buttons on her crop top, undoing them in a flash and revealing a lacy, black bra. Blue orbs clouded with lust, he watched as Raven removed her shirt. She tugged on the belt to his bathrobe and he ripped it off his body, tossing it to the floor. She grabbed the hem of his wrinkled, white tank top and and yanked it over his head. Before Charles could make the next move, the blonde leaned forward and started kissing his chest. The further down her lips traveled, the bolder she became. She reached out to touch his hard length, experimentally pet it, and he gasped, throwing his head back. She slipped a hand into his trousers and wrapped her fingers around his cock. Anxious to tease him, she caressed the sensitive flesh with her thumb. He refused to be tortured this way, though. He caught her wrist and started running her hand up and down his aching shaft.

"More..." he whispered, barely able to control himself.

She continued the motion, picking up the pace with every moan that escaped his lips.

"Faster, darling! Don't stop!"

She didn't, and the substance-abusing telepath thought he was going to die from the pleasure. On the verge of seeing stars, he snatched her wrist again, grabbed the other, and pinned both above her head with one hand.

No more games, no more foreplay. Just two soul joined together by love and longing.

"My Raven," he muttered in a possessive tone between heated kisses, while he tried to unclasp her bra with his free hand. After three failed attempts, he finally succeeded and added, "You'll always be mine."

He knew something had gone wrong when her body tensed up and she pressed her hands against his chest, preventing him from taking off her bra. He stared into her eyes and saw that the spell cast over her was broken, a light switch in her mind flipped on. Shaking her head with disdain, she wiggled herself out from underneath him, reached around her backside to re-clasp her bra, and picked her crop top off the floor.

"What—?"

"This isn't how it should be," she interjected, buttoning up her blouse.

"I don't understand."

"Charles, the only reason you want me is because I look normal."

He opened his mouth to respond, yet when nothing came out, it only confirmed her suspicions and made the space between them feel even bigger.

"After all those years I watched you picking up co-eds in bars, I should've known you'd only sleep with me this way."

"I have never feared or detested your blue skin."

"Actions speak louder than words."

"It wasn't about preference. I wanted you to be safe."

"I didn't need this disguise to feel safe! I needed you. I loved you."

"Then why did you choose Erik?"

"Don't ask questions you already know the answers to."

"Because I broke my promise to you and violated your privacy."

He watched as she reverted back to her natural form, an expression of painful regret spread across her face. "It was a mistake to come here."

With nothing more to say, she started to walk away.

"I love you," he confessed, somehow hoping that would be enough to make her stay.

The shapeshifter paused, crooked her head slightly so she could see his face and replied, "Then let me go."

"Raven," he called out her name, but it did nothing to stop her again. "Please don't leave. I need you! Raven!"

His eyes snapped open and a panting Charles shot up from his bed, covered in a thin layer of sweat. It was a dream, a fantasy turned into a nightmare. She was gone, like she had been for the past decade. He switched on the lamp beside him, grabbed the gold frame that held the photo of her human form in 1962, and stared at it remorsefully. The woman in his dream was worlds apart from the shy girl he met in his kitchen. She was Mystique—confident, fearless, stunning, and dangerous. Erik's perfect soldier. During the time they spent together, the pacifist intellectual convinced himself that he had no preference in her physical appearance, that he loved her as his sister, yet everything he said and did in that dream was to the contrary. Years of seclusion had changed the way he felt about her, or shown him that there was always something more than sibling affection brewing just beneath the surface of their relationship. Raven was his love, his light, his happiness... but he figured it out too late. He was dead inside, a shell of the man he once was. Setting the picture back down, Charles reached for the rum on his other nightstand, twisted the cap off, raised the bottle to his lips, and guzzled the booze.

Nothing mattered anymore.

A/N: Was it any good? Should I write another Charles/Raven fic? Please review!