My dear son,

This is my final letter to you, to be delivered in the event of my death. Your Uncle Charles will know that I'm writing it and where I end up hiding it; he's obnoxiously good at things like that, and I trust that he will make sure you receive it. (Take care of each other for me. I may not always see eye to eye with my brother, but we're family.)

I know that I've said it in every letter I've sent you, but my greatest regret in life has always been that I was not able to raise you myself. I have been a wanted woman for much of my adult life, and considering that, leaving you in the care of Father Paul while I continued fighting for a better world for people like us and telling nobody that I had a child seemed like the best way to keep you safe then and in the future. Perhaps I should have returned home instead, I don't know. I can only hope that by continuing the fight I have allowed you to inherit a slightly better world.

The past few (maybe more than a few by now) years of being able to be a part of your life, even if only as your teacher and team leader, have been priceless to me and I have resolved a thousand times to tell you that I'm your mother but so far I have been too much of a coward. I suppose I'm scared that you would be disappointed; you have grown up better than I ever could have imagined, despite me rather than because of me. You are brave and kind, and as terrifying as it is to watch my child being a hero, I could not be more proud that you are following in the footsteps of your father and uncle and I and choosing to use your gift to fight for a better world.

I'm sure that you have questions about your father's identity as well. His name was Azazel, and in looks and abilities you are practically the spitting image of him except that he was red. He often intimidated people-he was very Russian-but he cared a great deal about the people he chose to surround himself with. The last time I saw him was when he teleported me away from a skirmish we had gotten into and went back to help the others, shortly after I told him that I was pregnant. I think he would be proud of you too. Internally fretting about your safety, but he would never show it and he would genuinely be very, very, proud.

All my love, forever and always,

Mom/Mystique/Raven

Couldn't get this off my mind, so I wrote it.

Now that I have the attention of the X-Men fandom, I could use some help with the cherik fic I'm working on because, oops, Erik has now gone rogue on me and informed me that his relationship with his faith is a bigger part of the story than I planned on, and I'm feeling rather underqualified for this seeing as I'm a lifelong atheist with a purely academic understanding of religion.