Marvel and Fox owns; I'm just borrowing the toys. I'll try to have them back before curfew.

"Charles?" Raven calls from the doorway, her voice soft, but unwavering. She is still in her pajamas, cherry-red hair tousled from sleep. Charles looks up from his books. It is one o'clock in the morning, and he is sitting in the central room of their apartment, trying to squeeze in some last-minute studying for a test later in the day, but he can spare a few minutes for his sister.

"What is it? Do you need something?" he asks, then notices the shine of tears in her eyes. "Are you alright?"

"I-I don't know," murmurs Raven, as she crosses the space from the doorway to the couch where he sits. "I had a dream... I'm not really sure what to make of it, really." She sinks slowly down to sit next to her adoptive-brother, still in a dream-like state.

"I was wearing your- our, grandmother's pointe shoes. Her shoes are all worn with age, y'know, the ribbons ratty, but they fit me perfectly; like Cinderella's glass slipper. They slipped right on, the ribbons practically tying themselves around my ankles. My ankles have always been weak, but, in the dream, they were strong. I felt strong, stronger and more powerful than I ever have before. I didn't really know what I was doing, but it didn't matter; I knew I was the most beautiful dancer in the group. And I felt so light, and so, so happy." Raven doesn't meet Charles' eyes, instead gazing off to somewhere far away only she can see.

"The Others, the ones in charge, they tried to tell me I wasn't any good, that I didn't have the right training. I knew I was beautiful, and so did the rest of the girls; but the Others said they were wrong. They told me I had to take off the shoes and go back to another ballet class, one for those who weren't as good, back to where I belonged." Tears, long withheld, drip down her cheeks, but she seems to neither notice nor care.

"I waited, waited until they left the room, and then continued dancing. I was dancing around the room, gliding on those little pink shoes. I didn't feel any pain in my toes, or in my heart. Away from the judgment, it didn't matter what they thought of me; I was beautiful, even if they couldn't see me for what I was. I knew I was beautiful, and that was enough for me."

Charles does not know what to say. What can you say, when your baby sister has just poured out her heart, her soul, to you, and doesn't even seem to realize it?

He decides it is simply better not to say anything, instead pulling her into a hug and holding her until she falls asleep in his arms an hour and a half later.

He still has a test.

He still needs to study.

Screw the test.

So... now I feel a little awkward. For those who don't know, I'm a dancer, myself. Recently, I had a talk with my studio's director, in which she, basically, told me I suck. She says I'm sloppy, that I barely made it into the studio's company, that I'm not "special enough" to get into my first-choice college (currently William & Mary), and a whole bunch of other things that I really don't feel like thinking about right now.

I cried, to say the least.

Anyways, I later had the dream described above. Granted, the meanings between the two dreams are now totally different, but the feelings are still the same. I don't know whether to call it a good dream or a nightmare; for now, I'm just gonna say my grandmother (whom I am named for and was also a dancer) sent it to me from wherever she is now.

I hope this A/N hasn't turned too soppy or personal. I just... really needed to say something, I guess.

~ Elf