Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! I was really worried that no one would like this story because I realize that it's a little different. Just a little note: I plan to carry this story all the way from Mystique's birth (1st chapter) to the birth of Kurt. Of course, things often change in the course of writing so I can't make any promises. Oh, and in response to other reviews on this and other stories, I am COMPLTELY ignorant to the comics. With all that said, on with the story!

The apartment was small and the mix-matched furniture was stained and worn. The carpet was threadbare in places, but Elizabeth still made sure that it was as clean and neat as possible. Besides, her mother had kept her house in almost perfect order despite the fact she had six children. Elizabeth hummed softly as she folded clothes, glancing back every few minutes as her daughter.

Rayellen was happily playing in the small playpen that they had found at the Salvation Army. She saw her mother watching her and smiled brightly. Cooing softly, she reached one chubby, blue hand towards her mother.

Elizabeth returned the smile. "I'll pick you up in a minute, sweetie," she said. She couldn't help but feel a certain amount of pride. It only had only been 3 months ago that her daughter was born in the small Michigan hospital and already it appeared she was on the verge of speaking. At least, that's the way it sounded to her. The few times that Robert had actually listened to Rayellen he said that she was just making noises the way all babies do.

Elizabeth no longer really noticed that her child was blue. She had already realized that the coloration was probably not going to fade the way the doctor said it might, but it didn't matter. Her child was beautiful - it was her baby girl. And, she seemed so very intelligent, just like her father. Elizabeth wasn't smart and she had come to accept that. She had struggled through school and had finally quit after 8th grade. Her parents hadn't been overly concerned with her obtaining a public education anyway. A year or two ago, someone had said that they thought she had something called dyslexia, which was why she had trouble reading and her numbers were always jumbled, but she wasn't sure about that.

Robert had graduated, although he had not been one of the top students. He had admitted he had never really cared for school that much, but he had stuck with it until he had gotten his diploma. Still, Elizabeth was proud of this accomplishment and she saw signs of this same intelligence in Rayellen. She could also see her husband in the shape of the child's face and even the sound of her laugh, but Robert claimed that she was only imagining these things. In fact, he seemed angry whenever she even mentioned their daughter.

He was growing more moody with each passing day. It seemed that he completely ignored Rayellen and grew angry if for some reason he could not. The other night, she had cried out because she had needed her diaper changed. Elizabeth worked correcting the problem as fast as she could when suddenly Robert had yelled to 'shut that thing up.' She couldn't believe her ears: he had actually had referred to their daughter as a thing. After changing the diaper and putting Rayellen back in her crib, Elizabeth had planned to confront Robert about his statement, but he had already fallen asleep. The long hours he put in at Hyco, the hydraulics factory where he worked, had no doubt exhausted him. Holding back her tears, she had quietly climbed into bed and had silently told herself she would confront him tomorrow.

But she hadn't.

She finished with the clothes and walked over to pick up Rayellen as frustrated tears welled up in her eyes. She had already stood by Robert through so much, just as she had been taught a good wife should. After Rayellen's birth in Michigan, they had went through some tough times. Elizabeth wanted them to return to Kentucky where their families could help, but Robert was too proud to do that. They did move closer, to Ashland, Ohio in fact, and Robert had gotten the job with Hyco. However, they were growing further and further apart with each passing day. He was coming home late each night and was barely speaking to her. He basically ignored Rayellen unless it was to complain.

The tears dripped down her cheeks and that seemed to fascinate Rayellen. With her chubby, clumsy fingers she reached up and touched one of the tears. She looked deeply at her mother's face as if to ask, "Are you okay?" and Elizabeth put on a brave smile for her daughter.

"I'm fine," she whispered.

********************

The smoke hung in the air like a thick fog, magnifying some sounds while choking out others. In the back, four men were huddled around a pool table and were arguing over the last shot. As their voice roses, several other patrons watched carefully waiting for a fight to begin - their bloodshot eyes anxiously awaiting something to happen. Yet they were to be disappointed as two of the guys only yelled a couple of random obscenities and they left the bar. The room stunk of sweat, beer, and even vaguely of vomit, but Robert didn't notice any of these things.

He was sitting at a small table, slowly sipping a beer. It was his fourth of the evening and while his intentions had not been necessarily to become drunk, his limited experience with drinking along with his low tolerance for alcohol was bringing him ever closer to intoxication. The truth was he was just dreading going home. Rubbing his hand across his chin he couldn't help but wonder why his life had always been unfair.

No one would have described him as being lazy, yet it seemed as if he always finished in last place. Here he was, only nineteen with a wife to support. All day, he worked until he could barely move only to come to that tiny apartment that sucked up all the money he made and Elizabeth seemed unhappy. He brought the bottle back up to his lips for another drink just as another thought crossed his mind.

There was also the girl.

He slammed the bottle down on the table, but no one around even seemed to notice. Why was she blue? There was no reason, no real explanation. No one in his family was blue and Elizabeth couldn't think of anyone in her family that was blue either. Elizabeth acted as if that thing was actually their baby - but he knew that it wasn't true. It couldn't be true.

Glancing up, he happened to notice that a woman at the bar was watching him. Her hair was blonde (although he truly doubted that it was natural) and frizzed about her head. The makeup she wore was dark and thick and her tight shirt seemed almost fused to her skin. She smiled at him slightly and he was shocked by the amount of knowledge that was revealed in that cold smile.

Standing up, she made her way over to him, her swaying exaggerated and hypnotic. Her skirt was as tight as her shirt and cut short. Before he realized what he was doing, his eyes traveled up and down her legs as she walked.

"Hi there," she said, when she had arrived as his table. "Mind if I sit down?" Without waiting for an answer, she pulled out a chair and scooted it over close to him before sitting.

She wasn't as attractive up close. Her thick makeup couldn't hide the wrinkles or the blotches and he realized that she was much older than him. Her breath stank of alcohol and her teeth were beginning to rot slightly. Still, as she slid even closer to him, he didn't move away at first.

"I haven't seen you in here before," she stated.

"I just moved here two weeks ago," he replied.

"Really," she cooed, "Then allow me to personally welcome you." She placed her right hand on his knee and slowly slid it up his thigh.

He jumped to his feet so fast that he knocked his chair over backwards. "I have to be going," he said quickly, "Uh, it was, uh, nice meeting you." He ran from the bar, trying unsuccessfully to ignore the laughter that began to erupt from the behind him.

Walking down the street, he tried to figure out what was going on. He loved Elizabeth and while she was not what most would find beautiful, he like her simple, pure appearance. So why had he even looked twice at that woman back in the bar?

The answer came quickly - it was Rayellen. It was always her. Rage boiled inside him and his hands balled into tight fists. It was time to end this.

********************

It was almost midnight when Elizabeth finally heard Robert at the door. She swung it open just as he was fumbling to unlock it. He looked a little embarrassed as he stood there, the key still his hand but she could also tell that he was quite drunk. "Where have you been?" she demanded, "I've been worried about you." Her words were sharper than she had intended, but she had been really concerned.

He frowned as he stumbled into the apartment. "Don't nag," he said in a slow, slurred voice.

"Don't nag!" she repeated, "Don't nag? Is that all you can say to me when you don't come home until midnight and then when you do come home you're almost too drunk to even stand? I was scared to death and all you can say is don't nag."

"Stop it," he growled.

"Don't you under-" she began, but her words cut off sharply when he struck her across the face. "You hit me," she said in an amazed tone as she rubbed her mouth where her lip was already beginning to swell.

"YOU MADE ME DO IT!" he screamed.

Rayellen awoke and began to cry at the sound of her father's shouting. "Look what you did," Elizabeth said, "You woke Rayellen." She started towards the crib, but Robert grabbed her arm.

"This is all her fault," he said in a low, deadly whisper.

"No," Elizabeth replied, "It's your fault."

Quickly, she went to comfort her crying baby. After a few minutes, Rayellen stopped crying and Elizabeth placed her back in the crib. As she turned around, she was surprised to see Robert there, watching her. Before she could ask him anything, she noticed the .22 in his hand. She had grown up around guns and had never been afraid before, but something in Robert's eyes scared her in combination with the .22.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm going to put a stop to all this," he replied, "so we can be happy again." He raised the gun and pointed towards the crib.

"NO!" Elizabeth screamed. With a speed she didn't know she possessed, she raced across the room and grabbed his arm, trying to knock the gun away.

The sound of the gunshot tore through the apartment building like the deadliest of thunderclaps.

One note, I made the year somewhat ambiguous because I wasn't exactly sure how old I wanted to make Mystique but this is supposed to be taking place some time ago. That's why Robert, who is only 19, can go into a bar and get drunk.