Hello My Duckies! Lucky little me, I just saw X-Men first class for the second time and I find it quite fantastic. For anyone who hasn't seen it, It's full of beautiful bromance between Professor X and Magneto! Unfortunetly that's not what this story is about... this story is about the beautiful friendship they featured between Charles and Raven. I'm terribly sorry if this doesn't make sense at parts, I'm not alway coherent when I'm wonderfully emotional about a relationship like this! Enjoy ~ Tygger

Chapter 1

Charles Xavier's desk had always held pictures of the ones he loved, unashamedly displayed for any who may be interested. A photo of his parents, though seeming fake and distant, was never absent from the large wood desk. Other pictures came and went, moving from room to room as he saw fit, pictures of his ex-wife, Moira, and his son David were fairly common along with many pictures of students whom he'd grown attached to over the years. There was one photograph, a fairly old one, which many had fleetingly considered asking about. It was a well worn and faded photo of a blonde teenager with gentle golden eyes and a sweet smile on her soft round face. She was never a student nor a known family member of their beloved teacher, though many young women had mused that she was some lost love. Those who knew him well enough to ask felt it was one of those secrets he would wish to keep privet as he could be found from time to time staring at it with a sad longing. It was Ororo who held the modestly framed likeness now, trying to place the slight familiar feel of the young woman's pleasant face. With his early warning system, The Professor was never caught holding the photo, but the warn edges of the wood frame betrayed him. Hearing a noise outside the office, Ororo quickly replaced the photo and stepped away from the desk as her dear friend entered the room. For a split second, she entertained the idea of voicing the famous question, of ending all the speculation and mystery, but like all the others, she was quick to shy from the question. Charles sighed under his breath, little did she know, if anyone ever ventured to ask, he'd tell them such fantastic tales. Tales of an extraordinary young girl who'd one day changed a little boy's life forever.

Jean and Scott stood in the center of the room, confused. They'd both lived the better part of their lives in this school and had thought they knew every room, but this one they'd never seen or even really bothered to notice before. It was located directly across the hall from The Professor's room and had always been assumed to be both a storage room and locked, but they both now saw that was far from the case. The walls of the room were painted soft lavender with a soft spray of tiny daisies around the door and window. Beyond the lacy curtains lay a view of the garden, the dew on the rose bushes shining like diamonds in the morning sun. The window had a deep set window seat covered with flowery pillows and stuffed animals, leaving space for only one small body to fit and peer out at the sight below. The bed was simple, pale wood and made neatly, pushed up against the wall and occupied only by a worn out old bear that was missing an eye. The rest of the room was a tidy as it could be expected to be since it was a child's room, but other that obvious vacancy, it held few clues as to whom it belonged. There was only one picture in the room, a photo of two young children, maybe ten years of age, sat on the night stand, dusty, forgotten and faded by the sun that would trickle through the drapes in the afternoon. The boy had chestnut hair and a goofy grin, offset by a pair of oddly familiar blue eyes. The girl was blonde with honey gold eyes and soft face, frozen in the middle of a laugh.

"This is a child's room." Scott pointed out the obvious in a whisper, almost afraid that raising his voice would somehow disturb the ghost of whoever had slept her, "A little girl's room… does The Professor have a daughter?"

"No." Jean shook her head, "I think there's just David."

"This was my sister's room." Charles' voice cut through the quiet room, seeming too loud and causing the two students to jump, "We were very dear friends."

Jean stared; she'd never had the courage or indecency to try poking around in the other telepath's head and the knowledge of a sister was shocking, "What happened to her."

"We chose different paths." He set his lips in a grim line, "I had to let her go, but I always hope she'll come home one day."

Scott considered asking her name, but the older man had already turned and started to wheel away, leaving them unknowingly with the ghost of a little blue skinned girl.

Mystique shivered in the crisp fall air, her name hardly suited her anymore, but she'd been called it for so long now, she wasn't sure how to go back. She was still running really, though she couldn't say who from anymore. Mystique, a girl with no real name, no future and no where to go, she was lost. No, that was a lie, she knew she had somewhere to go, a home where she was always welcome. It would be so easy, just to go and knock on the door of the house she'd grown up in. Assuming one of his students didn't kill her, he'd open his arms to her and, heaven forbid, forgive her for all she'd done to him over the years. She was so close, just outside the gate, but she couldn't make herself do that yet. She couldn't stomach the idea that he'd still love her. Instead she sat down on the side of the road, her back against the stone wall, her arms wrapped tightly around her chest. It had been so long since she'd been properly clothed that the garments she wore felt constricting, but in the cold weather, she wished she had more of them. She sat just steps away from a warm embrace, hot soup, a chair by a fire and a comfortable bed, but instead she let her head rest on the cold rocks of the wall behind her and closed her eyes. She still had a fraction of her pride intact and she wasn't ready to let it go, even if that meant she froze to death over night.

Charles knew who it was even before he heard the racket down stairs. The hall was filled with an angry storm of conflicted thoughts and though he'd once made a promise, he reached out to touch her mind. He pulled back, moving more swiftly towards the elevator, all he could see in her head was cold blackness.

"Why should we help her?" Rouge snapped, "She works for him!"

"Not anymore," Kitty pointed out, timidly, "She's just human now."

"She's turning blue." Bobby pointed out, "Ironically."

"If we leave her out there, she'll freeze to death." Storm, who held the other woman, agreed.

"Good," Logan snarled, putting his arm around Rouge's shoulders to show support, "It'll be a fitting end for the cold…"

"Logan!" Storm snapped, "Watch your language in front of the students!"

"I'm just sayin'," He protested, "Why should we have to do anything for her."

"Because it makes us different from those we fight with." Charles cut in, "Ororo, take her to the medical wing, would you?"

"Of course, Charles." She smiled, carrying the surprisingly light woman towards the elevator.

The rest of their audience fell silent and trailed after their two teachers, not wanting to miss out on anything they may be able to gossip about later. Once down in the medical wing, they laid her on one of the beds, covering her with a thick blanked. Charles went to her side and waited while Jean worked to make her well again. He was well aware that his students and colleagues were confused by his actions, but there was one promise he'd made that would never be broken. She would always be welcome here.

He glanced towards her at the sound of a soft gasp and saw her gold eyes open. Charles smiled softly and took her hand, her eyes snapping to his face. Softly, so only she could hear, he whispered, "Hello, Darling."

Tears welled up in her eyes as she heard him speak, the tiniest hint of an English accent still on his tough, she squeezed his hand tightly, "I… I'm sorry, Charles. I couldn't… had nowhere else to go…"

"Shhh, Raven, don't cry." He ignored how their audience was taken aback by the way his voice seemed to caress her name and cupped her face in his hands, gently stroking her forehead with her thumb, "You know you always have a home here."

"He left me… just left." She couldn't help it, tears spilled down her cheeks, "He never really loved me, did he?"

"She should rest." Jean mentioned.

"No…" Raven shook her head, trying to get up.

"Shhh," he soothed, "You'll be okay. I won't let anyone hurt you. Just sleep. There's a good girl."

She couldn't tell if it was her own tiredness or if he was feeding her the idea, but she found herself relaxing back onto the bed and closing her eyes.

The crowd behind him finally found their voices and started muttering. Charles turned and caught Scott's eye, "Professor, could we have a word with you?"