"Come back! Even as a shadow, even as a dream."

Euripides, Herakles (translated by Anne Carson)

November 1961

8 Weeks

'So, what do you think?'

Nails rake against her knuckles, dragging skin back in clumps. She yelps, yanking and cradling her hand back. Will throws his head back and lets out a loud hyena-like howl.

'Shit,' Emilia swears over the sound of her manager's laugh. 'It wasn't that funny,' she grumbles, cheeks prickling red with heat. She finishes emptying the sink to the sounds of his laugh echoing off the kitchen tiles. Out of the corner of her eye, wisps of smoke emerge behind her, the stench of the source filling her nose. 'That stinks.'

'You don't complain when it's out there,' Will retorts, waving his cigarette forward toward the front of the bar.

'Because they tip me,' Emilia mutters, 'besides, you're around food, it's just… gross.' He scoffs and takes another drag. 'Seriously, you don't know what's in those things.'

'Doesn't matter,' he says, blowing a cloud into her face. 'It looks cool.' A shriek of laughter bellows from him again as she coughs in response.

Will came from America, somewhere in Ohio. He studied here in Oxford ten years ago and likes to remind you of that. Except, he fails to mention that he flunked his first year and has spent his life managing numerous bars since.

'What did you want?' She asks, ignoring the simmering heat in her cheeks.

'The girl I'm interviewing, what do you think?' A low bell dings, signalling the next order is ready to be plated up. Emilia returns to Joe, the chef, scoffing at Will's request.

'You're the one interviewing her.'

'Do you think Frank would hire her?' Will asks through another drag. Frank was the owner of the hell hole that they call a bar. Around early August he had come down with an infection and still hasn't recovered. Leaving Will in charge.

I miss him, she thinks as Will blows another cloud of smoke at the food she was plating up. Frank had been kind to her, made sure that no one like Will acted like this. He had no reason to hire her. The minute she and Erik had run, she had-

'Where'd she last work?' Emilia asked, erasing the thoughts inside her head. Will doesn't respond. 'Does she have any experience?' An uncomfortable expression settles on his face. His cigarette dangles from the side of his mouth and exhales a long billow of smoke that lasts a lifetime. 'Really? Will, really?'

'She seems like she really wants the job- hey, don't look at me like that! She could be really great for this place,' he defended. Emilia rounds the corner, heading out behind the bar. Across the room sits a blonde in one of their booths. Leather knee-high boots slither up her legs, boots that would have reached Emilia's thighs. Light, bouncy curls cascade down the back of her coat, unzipped enough to see peaks of golden, sun-kissed skin.

'I'm sure that's why you want to hire her,' Emilia forces herself to stop staring. Will leans over the food serving hatch, trying to hide his cigarette behind the counter.

'What do you think?'

'I think she's wondering why the guy interviewing her has walked off mid-interview.' The woman peeks over, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Will takes no notice and hides the charred stub. He jerks for Emilia to finish pouring a pint he hasn't finished. She grabs it, turns around and tips it down the drain.

'Anyone ever told you, you're a bitch sometimes? No wonder he-,' Will doesn't finish the sentence. The knives by the side of her begin to shiver.

A permanent reminder of him.

'Shit,' he whispers, Will hasn't realised the now deformed cutlery by her side. 'I'm sorry, it was a joke, I didn't-'
'It's fine,'.
'It's not like him to just leave, have you heard from-'

'Are you going to hire her then?' She asked loudly. 'You know Frank doesn't like hiring people with no experience.'

She had been the exception; Frank had liked how quick she could clean the place before opening. Emilia had liked his songs and how he would spontaneously pull his guitar out, pulling an impromptu concert to their customers. Sometimes he would pull Emilia up with him to sing, and he would make sure to tell Erik each time he would do this, just so he could come watch her. And he had came, she reflected, eyes misting up, he came every time. She throws herself back into organising the knives and forks, scrubbing the grime along with any trace of him from mind.

'I know, I know,' he trails off, going along with her avoidance.

'You want me to train her up, don't you?' A shrill ring of the telephone blares from the office, they both ignore it, choosing to stare each other down until the other one breaks.

'I'll pay you for the extra hours?' She knows that was Will's own way of apologising, and of course, she would accept. Oxford wasn't cheap to live in, especially when you're on your own.

'Deal,' she smiles. A wolfish grin breaks across his face and her smile begins to disappear at the sight of it. She's saved by the appearance of Joe, whose bald head pops up from behind the food hatch.

'Frank's on the phone.'

'Shit,' Will swore, reaching for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. As he pulls one out, he reaches back to the bar and chucks Emilia a file of paper that was left on there. 'Tell her she's got the job?'

'What's her name?' She asks, following him back into the kitchen.

'Raven Dark-something,' he mumbles through his attempts to light his addiction. His lighter fails him once, twice and then a third time before Joe chucks his own. 'Darkhouse? Darkhorse? It's on the sheet.'

'Darkholme,' she reads off of the paper. 'It's Raven Darkholme-Xavier,'

'Shit, what kinda name is that?' He's gone before she can respond.

When she goes back out to the bar, Raven is still there, her eyes focused on the entrance where Emilia comes from. Her eyes dart away, acting as though she weren't looking. When Emilia is a few feet away, she looks up acting as if she had just noticed her. It was kind of cute.

'When can you start?'
Raven's eyes widened. 'Tomorrow?'

'Can you come in for 12? It's an easy shift, we'll supply your uniform, just bring comfortable shoes.'

A triumphant smile spreads across Raven's face, her dimples looking as though they may burst. Emilia forces a smile back, her stomach churning.

-o-

When Emilia returns to her flat, Isla, an older woman who lives below her, waits outside. She sits barely visible in a worn out plastic lawn chair. Her heavy, thick coat engulfing her, causing only the top of her head to be visible. She does that often now, sits outside the house they both share until Emilia comes back home.

'How are you?' Isla asks.

'Great,' Emilia smiles. The smile threatens to break when Isla's eyes dip up and down, they rest on her waist.

'You're eating again,' what should have been a question comes out as a statement. Emilia hums. The steps up to her flat are crooked and full of grime with ageing.

'Have you heard from him?'

A choked laugh escapes. It was an obvious answer.

'Not funny,' Isla chides.

Emilia finds it funny.

'This is a good thing,' Isla declares. 'That man was trouble.' Yes, but he was also handsome. He also had a way of making Emilia's toes curl the minute he began to whisper into her ears. Her face is flushed, and she remembers who she's talking to.

'Do you want me to bring back leftovers tomorrow?'

'If you're offering,' she pauses for a second as if she were remembering something. 'My granddaughter is coming tomorrow.'

'You look too young to be a grandmother.'

She doesn't hear Isla's reply.

-o-

'Well, shit. She has a boyfriend,' Will whines the next day. He stares out of the food hatch, in pitiful belief that his 6ft1 frame cannot be seen poking through. Emilia is across from him, rummaging through the Christmas decoration box.

'So, you've taken up stalking now?' Will pulls her beside him, pointing his arm across the room. Being only 5ft2, Emilia is forced to pull herself up to see Raven, who is talking to a man in a tweed suit.

'Don't point,' Emilia scolds. 'That's her brother.'

'Who's the stalker now?'

'We do talk, you know'. A lie. They have barely spoken during their two hours on shift together. Emilia tried repeating everything she had once been taught, and Raven silently tried to keep up.

But Will didn't have to know that.

The box she carries to the front of the bar is filled with flimsy tinsel, falling apart menus and a decapitated reindeer. She sneaks glances at the two of them. Raven points around, showing off different things around the pub to her brother. She expected Raven's brother to look like her; golden skin, blonde curls. Instead, he turns, and Emilia sees a pale, pasty face, a strong nose and dark brown hair.

Huh, she thinks. She'd assumed he'd be taller.

She keeps watching, waiting for any indication that they're related. Nothing. The dimples in her smile don't exist in his cheeks. His features are sharper and more pointed, whilst hers are soft, as if they had been delicately crafted.

The bell rings, signalling food in the trap door. She reaches up on tiptoes to find Will's beady eyes. 'It's for the furthest table. Find out if she's talking about me.'

'Freak,' she responds, walking away.

When Raven isn't speaking to Emilia or anyone at work, she speaks at 100 miles per minute. Making Emilia's mission from Will harder. She hears something about uniform, dress code and having to take her earrings out. The brother catches Emilia's eyes and gives her a stern look.

When she returns, Raven is still talking, only this time she notices Emilia and gives a smile of recognition. She returns with it with one of her own, ducking her head down to avoid the brother.

Will watches her closely.

'Nothing,' she reports, pulling the decapitated reindeer out of its box.

'Well, one thing's for certain,' Will says, a smirk on his face. 'He did not like you.'

Emilia looks over to find the brother staring her way, a frown written on his face.

She goes back to her decapitated reindeer, hoping to find its head. The head is unfixable, shattered, but she finds some old fabric for a wingless angel. A dull throbbing begins in her head. Ignoring it, she tears what remains of the ruined wings off.

The ache turns into a crushing pain, one that pulses through in different waves of patterns. Gently, she brings her fingers to her head, jerking back when a bolt of pain scatters through her senses.

The pain subsides after a few minutes, enough to soothe her aching temples. It takes everything in her not to moan in relief. The doors open, then close and when she looks up, Raven is alone.

'That was your brother then?' Emilia asks, passing Raven the Christmas menus to put out. She searches her face, searching for any sign of relation. Still, nothing.

'I forgot my keys, he'll be back later to drop them off,' Raven replies. Her eyes scope Emilia's out, as if she too were trying to find something.

'Tell Will your brother's name, he'll let you off for five minutes if he knows someone's here for you.'

Raven does what Emilia suggests, and Will comes out with a bitter expression on his face.

'Charles Xavier,' he mimics. 'Jeez, where do these people get their names from?'

She makes a joke about how when people with money have kids the power goes to their heads. Out of the corner of her eye she spots blonde hair poking out of the food hatch.

Her laugh freezes up, her head ducks in shame. She goes back to work.

-o-

The headache returns. It's a faint drumming against her temples, as if someone was nudging and poking her to a rhythm.

'Is my sister still here?' The man, Charles, already knows the answer. If he realises that Emilia's shifts ended from her coat and bag in hand, he does not process it. He wears a nice suit, and just by that, he's a sore thumb that does not belong here.

'I'll call her for you.'

She's back by the changing room. There's a dingy toilet that's spacious enough to double as a room to change in, it contains a few stalls that were never cleaned. Emilia edges the door open to see if she's in there.

She finds a kaleidoscope of colours.

Scarlet red hair.

Blue skin.

Amber eyes.

She lets the door shut. Her arm reaches for the wall, steadying herself. Instead, she knocks the mop bucket behind her. Raven calls out asking who's there, Emilia is gone by the time she leaves.

She speaks to Joe as Raven, blonde and white again, darts past them. He talks Emilia into working an extra shift. She nods at his words, trying to ignore the bile rising in her throat. As soon as Raven re-enters, bringing back a purse, Emilia makes a beeline out.

She slams into someone.

Charles Xavier looks down at her with his lips in a tense line. She doesn't question why he's still here. Her face feels afire, her head as if someone took a drill to it. She mumbles an apology, bustling past him and slamming through the doors. She ignores her bus stand, not trusting her stomach to last the bus journey home.

She was right. Her stomach lasts five minutes before she runs into an alley and brings her lunch up behind a dumpster.

She walks the rest of the way home, the smell of vomit trailing after her.

A/N: I originally planned for this to be posted on the 14th of April, then life kinda... got in the way.

I hope everyone is safe and well! I really don't know what to say, but if you're reading this I hope you and all your loved ones are keeping safe during this horrible time!

Sorry for the long break, life has been... hell. But, I'm back and I have finished Uni! The next chapter should be posted... end of June/early July? I'm trying to work on a Killing Eve fic and a Game of Thrones one so be patient with me lmao.

This fic is also on Ao3 if anyone is interested in supporting it? Link is here: /works/23724133/chapters/56970061

Thank you all for your kind reviews and for following/favouriting this fic! I'm going to try to reply to all reviews left whether it be privately or at the end of the fics for guests!

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