This story has a lot of disclaimers. First, I don't own X-Men Evolution (such a shame). Secondly, I took several liberties while writing this story so that while none of this has ever been exactly contradicted in the show, it hasn't really been hinted at either - such as Raven Darkholme not being Mystique's real name. A lot of this story is just my own original interpretation and a bit of an experiment. It's weird - I'm warning you right now. I hope that everyone enjoys it!

Dr. Allen Morris stood alone in his office, his eyes scanning the bookshelves for any book out of place, but he already knew that the shelves were impeccably arranged. He was just stalling, and he realized it, but he felt helpless to stop. Yesterday's events were etched deeply into his mind and no amount of stalling could ever erase the memories. "Perhaps I'm just overreacting," he mumbled to himself, but somehow he knew it was a lie.

Yesterday had began fairly normally. St. Anne's was a small hospital, but it saw it's fair share of excitement and Dr. Morris, who held the distinction of being one of the finest gynecologists in Michigan, thrived on those moments. He would tell his patients and colleagues that he preferred a small hospital because it allowed him to work more personally with the patients, and there was some truth to that. Yet, there was also the emotional high of working in a quiet, calm environment that could suddenly erupt into chaos that could be the envy of even a large hospital. It was a roller coaster ride, and he was just hanging on waiting for the next twist.

But after what happened yesterday, he was beginning to think it was time for the ride to end.

He turned from the bookshelves and walked over to his desk, but his mind was still consumed with the previous day's events. He had just been leaving the hospital when he was called back to the emergency room. A young couple had just came in off the street's and the woman was about to give birth. As he rushed back to assist the soon-to-be mother, he could barely suppress a smile. Finally, something was happening around here.

However, when he had first seen the couple, he got his first inkling there may be a problem. The man was thin with blood shot eyes. He was wearing the sanitary gown, gloves, and mask but even those items seem to hang crookedly on his lanky frame. "Please, help her Doc," he had pleaded. His voice had a slight twang to it - a southern accent of some sort.

The woman was also thin, her gaunt face juxtaposed above her distorted abdomen. She had looked at Dr. Morris with something of admiration, love, and desperation. He had given her his best smile as he gently reassured her that everything was going to be all right.

The actual birth itself had went smoothly enough. Just when he was about to think that his worries might have been foolish, the baby herself made her first grand appearance. She had entered the world crying and yelling, exactly the way a healthy baby should, but for the first few minutes no one even noticed.

"Oh my God!" one of the nurses had exclaimed.

Normally, Dr. Morris would have immediately reprimanded the nurse for such unprofessional behavior but if he had been able to find his voice he probably would have said the same thing. The child was blue. This wasn't just a blue tint that many children have at birth, this child was a solid, deep blue. A shock of red hair atop her head set off her peculiar skin tone as she squirmed in the doctor's arms.

"Is she breathing?" another nurse asked.

"Of course she is," Dr. Morris finally managed, "Listen to that cry. Still, we need to get her checked out." Quickly, he had cut the umbilical cord as they prepared to take the still crying baby upstairs. The young mother was now begging for her infant, but he had tried to half-heartedly convince her that this was all just routine. Still, he had left the room as quickly as possible - his thirst for excitement quenched. Perhaps forever.

A knock on his office door brought his back to present day as he sat down behind the desk. "Come in," he said.

The door opened as the young couple entered the room. The man came in first while his wife was being pushed in a wheelchair by a nurse. She seemed somewhat embarrassed by the treatment, but it was standard hospital procedure. The doctor smiled warmly. "Sit down," he stated, and then winked at the woman, "unless you already are." She giggled slightly, but he could hear her nervousness.

"So, uh Doc," the man began, "How's Rayellen doin'?"

"Rayellen?"

"Yeah, our daughter."

"Oh, sorry," Morris apologized, "It's been a long day. Rayellen is fine." He paused as he studied the couple. The were impoverished, their clothes ill-fitting and torn but clean. He doubted either were well-educated and that compounded with the accent only added to the prejudices the world would stack against them. He glanced at the paper before him and saw that their names were Robert and Elizabeth Maynard, but they had left the area for home address blank. "May I ask where you are from?" Morris ventured.

The couple exchanged a quick glance. "Kentucky," Robert finally answered.

Morris nodded slightly. That explained the accent at least. "Nice state," he responded.

"Doctor, I have ta ask ya," Elizabeth cut in, "What's wrong with my baby?" Tears were now forming in her eyes.

"Well, first off let me assure you that she's going to be fine," Morris answered, "But I'm not sure what is the cause of her peculiar skin coloration." Standing up, he walked over to his window and looked outside. It had rained the night before and now the parking lot glittered like a gray sea. "It could possibly be methemoglobinemia."

"What's that?" Robert asked.

"Well," Morris began, turning towards them again, "I don't know a lot about it because with me being a gynecologist, it's not exactly within my area of expertise. In fact, I had to look it up last night. Methemoglobinemia is a very rare hereditary condition in which the blood doesn't carry enough oxygen. The oxygen deprived blood takes on a darker appearance and it causes the skin to have a bluish tint."

The Maynards were silent a moment while they let the information sink in. "But what does that mean exactly," he finally asked, "for Rayellen, I mean. Will it make her sick?"

"No," Morris replied, "In some instances, the blue coloration even fades as the child gets older." He took a deep breath as he prepared to ask the question he had really been wanting to ask. "You say that you are from Kentucky - have either of you heard of the Blue Fugates?"

"I know some Fugates," Elizabeth answered, cautiously.

"The Blue Fugates," Morris said, "We're a family that lived around Hazard back in the 1800's. It seemed like they carried the methemoglobinemia gene and because of frequent intermarriage within the family, the trait became more and more obvious. Several members of the family were described as being dark blue." He glanced at the young couple, hoping that they were as fascinated as he was about this information he had discovered last night.

Robert didn't look blue - he looked red. His face was practically glowing with anger as he stared at the doctor. "So that's it!" he exploded, "Ya think that just because I say we're from Kentucky we have to be related. We'll we're not! Elizabeth may be from Hazard, but I was born and raised in Pike County! I didn' just go out and marry my cousin or somthin'" He turned towards his wife. "Come on, Beth," he commanded, "Let's get out of here."

She got up from her wheelchair and cast an apologetic look at the doctor. Quietly she left the room, but Robert slammed the door behind him.

Morris sighed deeply. He hadn't meant to insult them, but he could understand their feelings. They were so many like them out there - running away from Kentucky to try to find the opportunities for a real life but slamming into prejudices and stereotypes along the way. Then, there was also that little girl. She would have all those same stereotypes shoved at her, but there was also the fact she had blue skin.

He had lied to them: he didn't really think it was methemoglobinemia. He couldn't explain why exactly - the girl did have all the symptoms and the fact the mother was from the same area seemed to reinforce the diagnosis. Still, he just didn't believe. For whatever reason, he couldn't shake the feeling that Rayellen had many challenges ahead of her.

He had never been a religious man, but now he turned his face heavenward and stared up at the ceiling. "Please, watch over that little girl," he whispered.

I know. That was different, but I hoped it was different in a good way. I never intended to focus on the doctor so much, but it seemed to fit. The next chapter focuses on Mystique's parents and then on to Mystique herself in later chapters. I'm not sure how long this will be because this is sort of an experiment, but I'm hoping that it will be a big project.

Strangely, I had decided to have her parents from Kentucky before I learned of the 'Blue Fugates' because that's where I'm from and I figured I can portray them better that way. However, when I went online to look for the condition that created a blue tint of the skin, I stumbled onto a page that talked about the Fugates. When I learned of one child that was born with dark blue skin and red hair, my chin just dropped. It was too perfect. Here's something even weirder. There was a lot of intermarriage that kept this trait resurfacing, but they did marry other families. The child that had the red hair and blue skin was a Stacy (my last name) and was a distant relative of mine. Too weird!

I appreciate reviews and constructive criticism. Please, no flames.