Who: Rachel Berry berrylicous & Charles Xavier x When: Saturday, April 18th Where: Starts off at Copperstone Apartments and then to Test City Bar & Grill What: Rachel meets up with Charles for a drink and some karaoke. Rating: Lowish Warnings: Maybe light language, drinking but otherwise safe for most audiences. Status: Complete/GDoc
Flirting felt unnatural to Rachel. It hadn’t been that long since Finn had died, and well, part of her heart would always belong to him. She’d felt guilty afterwards, but there wasn’t anything that would bring Finn back unless --
Rachel couldn’t let herself think of the possibility. It made breathing hard, and she’d do nothing but cry and it was just awful. She couldn’t allow herself to fall down that hole, and she had to keep reminding herself that this wasn’t anything more than two people getting together for a night of good fun. They would go their separate ways, and she’d hopefully make a friend.
That was all Rachel could think about.
Only a few of her outfits from home had been waiting on her once she’d gone to her apartment, so she’d went out shopping after she first arrived. The pickings were slim, but she could make do with just about anything. It helped that there was a local thrift shop that carried clothes that were more her style.
After thumbing through her closet, she settled on one of her outfits from home. It wasn’t too dressy, flashy or anything and would be comfortable to wear to and from the bar. Her boots were flat, even though she wasn’t planning on drinking, she didn’t want to think about the trek with heels on.
Giving herself one final look in the mirror, she fluffed her hair and then grabbed her purse and headed out. Copperstone was close, next door really if one wanted to get technical about it, and Rachel had thought it was empty until recently.
With Hope Springs filling up, it was no surprise that the other one was taking the overflow and she’d seen another apartment complex. Perhaps it was only a matter of time before all of them were full up.
101A. Rachel stood in front of the door, eyes on the number, hand up twisting the charm she wore around her neck. A line of worry appeared between her brows, lips turning down into a frown. Fine, it was fine, she was just about to drop the charm when the door opened, she blinked several times, and the laughed. “Hi! I’m Rachel,” she shook her head, laughing still, “you already knew that though.”
God, she was an idiot.
~*~
"Yes," Charles agreed as he grinned at Rachel, "I did know that. I also knew you were hovering about outside my flat for a while. Afraid I bite? I don't. Common misconception at home: mutant tendencies come from being bitten by a rabid animal."
He tutted as he made to move out in his chair, the electric motor making a whirring sound as he maneuvered it around Rachel to close the door behind him. No use in locking it. Charles had nothing of value here. There seemed to be little reason to steal anything as far as he could tell as this place was fairly sorted for them all. They'd jobs, housing, food, and a means of communication. What more could one ask for really?
Some stole for the sake of stealing, true. There were those who enjoyed the act of theft. It was a common habit which Charles could understand the psychology behind. Many people stole to supplement what they were lacking in their lives. Often they didn't take things of true monetary value yet rather they took things with emotional significance such as Rachel's charm she kept fiddling with or Erik's coin.
Lucky for Charles, he had no physical possessions which were at all of value to him in any way, monetary or otherwise.
"I'm Charles Xavier, obviously, and I should warn you: my gift gets a bit worse with alcohol involved. Physical contact makes it----"
He shook his head. There was little likelihood anyone would be touching him. People had a natural tendency to avoid looking at or communicating with handicapped individuals. It wasn't so much a prejudice as an instinctual urge to avoid associations with the weaker members of the herd. Everyone was an animal if one looked at it from the proper perspective.
"Nevermind all that. So, how far is it to our destination? Will you be requiring a ride? I promise my lap is quite comfortable and I would not dare put the moves on a lady of your standing on the first date."
Charles could be quite charming when he wished to be. It was all a matter of time and circumstances. He'd been friends with Erik during a time when he was more carefree. Life had worn him down a bit more now, true, but he hoped he could come back to the young man he'd once been. Too much time hadn't passed, had it? He wasn't honestly too old to enjoy life any longer?
~*~
Letting out a nervous laugh, Rachel shook her head. “No, no. It wasn’t that.” Rachel wasn't sure if she was ready to talk about the reason why she'd been fiddling with her necklace. She took a step back, giving Charles room to move his chair out.
She smiled brightly at him, “It’s very nice to officially meet you, Charles.” A mind reader? She’d thought she’d seen him mention something along those lines on the network, and adding in the fact that he’d known she was just outside his door playing with her necklace cemented the fact for her.
Rachel tried to keep her mind clear of anything except the present, she had no idea how his powers worked and part of her was too afraid to ask. There were so many different types of people here, some with and some without powers. Rachel was, obviously, one of those without but she’d met some very interesting people during her short time there.
“Um, it’s downtown. So it’s not too far, but far enough to where I didn’t want to wear heels.” She laughed after her admission, and lifted a shoulder. Heels were a necessary evil, sometimes, tonight? They weren’t.
A brow rose. Date? That -- well, Rachel hadn’t been expecting that. The guilt came creeping back in, settling as a knot in her stomach. Was this wrong? How could she act like everything was fine with her when it wasn’t? Her friends would be so disappointed in her, and Rachel felt disappointed with herself. Two months. It was too soon for her.
Clearing her throat, Rachel shook her head again and held up a hand, “No, I can manage, but I might take you up on the ride the next time, okay?” She offered Charles a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes and she felt bad that the evening was starting off the way it was.
She started walking, keeping a slow and steady pace beside Charles. She’d gotten used to a slow speed whenever she’d hung around Artie, so it wasn’t that big of a deal. “I’m sorry.” She spoke softly, “It’s not easy. Being here. I’m trying to make the best of everything, but ---” She trailed off, biting down on her lower lip, “it’s hard.”
Fun, she could focus on fun things and not worry about any of the rest of it for tonight. She could question herself and what the hell she was doing later although she figured it’d be sooner rather than later that she had to deal with it considering the company she found herself in.
She hadn’t wanted to say anything about it, but the truth always came out in the end and Rachel wasn’t known for keeping her feelings to herself. “You’ll find out about this soon enough I’m sure. I lost someone. Someone very special to me just two months ago. He -- he was my everything, my best friend, the one person I knew I could count on no matter what happened. I don’t want pity, and I don’t need you to ask me if I’m okay.” She turned to look over at Charles, “So please, don’t. I don’t think I can take another person asking me that.”
~*~
Apologies were always hollow when it came to a life-altering event such as the death of a loved one or a permanent injury. Charles Xavier knew how hollow all those apologies were. He not only heard them coming from the lips of would-be helping-hands but also from inside their minds, what they really wanted to say, what they were saying behind a facade. It made him want to hurt people and he was truly, genuinely against violence.
It wasn't the answer. Violence. All it did was lead to more violence, more hatred, more rage. No one got any satisfaction from an act of violence in the end. Warmongers could preach for days about how war was the only way to preserve peace, but how much was that kind of peace worth? How many lives was a fake peace born of fear worth? How many sons, how many daughters had to die to make it all worth it?
Charles had lost his legs because he wanted to prove he was a good man. He'd wanted to be good on an inner level, a deeper level. There had been a certainty in him he could be good. He could make good choices. He'd been arrogant enough to believe since he could hear the sins of others, he could dissuade himself from sin. No one had ever told him sin was inevitable for any man.
"I'm going to say this once," Charles sighed, rubbed his face with his hand, pinched the bridge of his nose hard before shaking his head, "This will make you feel different about me. It always does. People say no, no, no, I'd never---they're lying because they do. It's inevitable. Like death or taxes. I wouldn't ask you aloud if you were 'okay' because I'd know you weren't. I know you aren't. Whether I want to or not, it doesn't matter. I hear you in my head. I hear your self-deprecating thoughts, your doubts, feel your grief. I don't need to ask. So I don't. Ever. Ask, that is to say. I also won't offer you any half-arsed apologies for your loss. I ask in return you not say you're sorry I'll never walk again unless I choose to drug myself into humanity and oblivion. You aren't sorry. No one is sorry. It's only a thing people say. I'm tired of people saying things. I won't be a man who says anything to you I don't mean. I know your pain, but I don't want to. I don't want to hear about your grief. I want to look at you. I want to listen to you sing. I want to get drunk enough to forget I can't sing. For a little while, I want to forget everything. Pretend I'm normal. Is that enough for you?"
He wouldn't think about how to say he wished he'd used another word than 'date.' Charles wasn't about to think on her pain. Rachel could keep her pain. He didn't want it. He didn't want any of it. All which seemed to feel left in his life was pain. They weren't so different from each other in that respect. Charles hoped Rachel could forgive him his bitterness if he forgave her all her grief and sadness which she'd brought to his doorstep in place of a momentary amusement outside the scope of his own agony.
~*~
Looking down at the ground, embarrassment burned her cheeks, and yet Rachel nodded. “Yeah, we can do that.” She never said the right things at the right time, and more often than not stuck her foot in her mouth without meaning to. She was stupid, so stupid.
She’d just thought it would be better to say something than to not and pretend like everything was fine when he would know the truth. Maybe she should just keep to light stupid topics, but even then she was sure she’d mess that up somehow too.
Rachel felt like she couldn’t win for losing most of the time. She’d tried to change, but what had that gotten her? A boyfriend who’d been a gigolo and had slept with her instructor? Yeah, that’d happened.
Poor life choices all around. Rachel had plenty of them.
“Don’t worry. I tend to say the first thing that comes to my mind without much thinking about it. It’s not always a good thing, but it’s me.” She laughed softly and looked over at him. “Besides, the only thing really weird about you is the fact that you’re a telepath since I’ve never had to deal with one before, but otherwise? I’d say you’re pretty normal for a guy.” That was the honest truth as far as Rachel could see it.
She’d hung out with outcasts all of her life, heck, she’d been one all of her life too. Having two dads, and her diva attitude sorta dictated that she would be that weird girl until the day she died.
Rachel had grown more comfortable and confident in her own skin as time went on, even scoring a role that she’d wanted more than anything because of that. Still, there were times, like this, where she didn’t feel all that confident. Rachel was just emotional, that’s all that it was.
“Alright, so, I’ve got to ask if you have any special requests for songs or if I’m going to be left to my own devices. There’s no telling what I might sing if that’s the case.” Nothing slow though, she had no desire to sing a ballad right now but she was trying to pump herself up for a night of fun and craziness.
~*~
"I have a feeling our musical tastes are going to be interesting. Largely because where I'm from? It's 1973. Vietnam War. I happen to love The Beatles and I'd get on my knees even knowing I'd never get back up again for The Bee Gees. Hugely impressed by Elvis Presley though honestly? I'm no Elvis. I could imagine you sing a very impressive Bette Midler. Everything by her is impressive. Passion. She's got that in her voice."
Charles had a lot of love for passionate people. They made him feel alive again in a way he didn't otherwise. He'd lost a lot of his own joie de vivre during the war as well as from the loss of his legs. If someone had told him before the accident, he'd never be the same only because he couldn't walk? Charles thought he'd have knocked them on their arse as a liar. These days he knew the truth of the matter.
He was not the same man since he'd been thrown into the chair. His confidence was shattered, shuttered behind panes of self-deprecation, self-loathing, and self-pity. All he could think on was how he'd never be the same man again. It was hard to imagine how he could be a better man when he was half what he'd been before the beach.
Since when did he think a person in a wheelchair was half a person?
Since it was him in the chair, Charles realized. He envied Rachel her acceptance of her status outside the world of the absolute norm. She was comfortable with herself in a way he worried he would never be again. In spite of having spoken to his future self through Logan's mind, Charles still couldn't fully grasp one day he'd be satisfied with his lot in life.
"Thank you, Rachel. I appreciate your view on things. It's hard to see positive lights in a world where everything seems bathed in darkness. There are shadows on my soul now---I haven't found a light to scare them away as of yet so I'm less than I was and more than I would like to be all at once. For a little while? Let's sing some songs. You can choose some modern music you like and I'll read along. I'm game for a learning experience. I've a PhD, you know. Always loved learning."
Charles smiled at her, satisfied this would work out after all. They could comfort one another in some capacity. It'd work out. It would.