Anbruch

"Gutentag," Kurt began with a smile, exposing his fanged teeth. "My name is Kurt Wagner, but in the Munich Circus, they called me—"

Mystique cut him off, rolling her eyes. "I know who you are."

She had known him for years, without a doubt much longer than anyone else had known him. She just had not known what he had become, and the word 'Circus' revolted her. He was no more a freak than she was.

"You look familiar," said Kurt, as he looked her over. She had the same blue-tinted skin that he did, something that he had never seen before, and the same yellow eyes. It was almost like looking into a mirror.

"Oh, really?" She shouldn't have looked familiar to him. She had left a long time ago. Long before anything that he should have been capable of remembering. She even wondered how these mutants had managed to find him.

"Yah. But I can't place it." He paused. "It is like I knew you from somevere. Long, long ago."

"Seems about right," she mumbled under her breath in response.

She could easily remember that "somevere," that "long, long ago."

She had been in Bavaria for substantially longer than she had ever expected to be. It was only supposed to be short-lived, a quick cover, a short time spent as the Baroness. But it had lasted far longer.

The Baron was a good man and a loving husband. But he only knew Mystique under her god-forsaken alias, Raven, a young woman with dark brown hair and a slim figure. During the duration of their marriage, the Baron had given Mystique anything that she could possibly have wanted. Well, except for one thing. In addition to being a relatively disappointing lover, the Baron could not give Mystique a child. It had been the cause of countless late-night fights before bed.

"You couldn't possibly understand, Christian," she remembered herself saying during one such argument.

"But I do understand, my love," he had said, his thick German accent coating each syllable.

She had sighed and tears began falling down her cheeks as she sobbed, "I just want a son."

Mystique could not remember exactly when she had first met the mutant who called himself Azazel. But there was something about him that maintained a hold on her, and she often went hours, days, weeks, dreaming of him. At one point, he had been a business partner of Christian's, a shapeshifter, like herself, keeping himself hidden amongst the humans. But he was never around for too long a time.

Perhaps that was what she found so attractive about him, the mystique that surrounded him.

She couldn't remember exactly how it had come to be the two of them, Mystique and Azazel, alone together. She couldn't remember exactly what Azazel had managed to say to prove to her that everything would be okay, but she knew that it had certainly taken some convincing.

In that moment, it was just Mystique, just this woman, this mutant in her natural blue form, together with Azazel, a creature much like herself. It was the first time she had seen his natural form; from any angle, he looked like the devil reincarnate: black hair, red skin, and a long, pointed tail.

And soon after, Mystique realized that she was pregnant.

Back in her disguised form, the Baroness tried to convince her husband that the baby was his, but her father-in-law thought otherwise. He was a horrible man, aiming to ruin the happiness of Mystique's marriage to his son, having always been suspicious of her. And it was he who demanded the blood test that led to his son's murder.

She could see herself there, dagger in hand, staring at the dead body of the Baron, but not really seeing it.

The flashbacks were almost unbearable, like reliving the life that she had ruined for herself all those years back, remembering every mistake she had made. But as she glanced back at the figure in front of her, she fell again into nostalgia.

Nearly nine months to the day after her affair with Azazel, she found herself in the birthing room of a nearby hospital. The plan had been to stay undercover while giving birth to the baby, but nothing ever went according to plan.

Distracted by the pain of childbirth, Mystique lost control of her powers. She felt a coolness come over her as the hospital air hit her bare skin, her bare, blue skin. Something had gone terribly wrong.

The baby was greeted with screams of sheer terror from the birthing room, and as the nurses went to hold the newborn creature, their shrieks just intensified. The baby boy had the same blue skin and yellow eyes as his mother, the same black hair and pointed tail as his father.

"— And I really can't figure it out," she heard Kurt say, drawing her from her reminiscence.

But could this really be him? His name was Wagner, like the man thought to be his biological father. And his looks were unmistakable.

She had longed to be a real mother. But at the time, the circumstances had been against them. Her heart felt heavy in her chest, as she repeated, "Kurt."

His curved lips formed a smile, and she saw a small piece of Azazel in his yellow eyes.

He didn't need to know just yet, she decided. He was more than fine without her. But maybe one day, she'd tell him. Maybe one day, he would finally know.