Chicks: Een vich Mutter mopes about our zorry bruzzer.

Aria: An' Pie an' Wa an' the res' of th' boys cheer her up!

Chicks: Oh, und becauze FF vas beink a butt about uploadink our dokuments, zhis is takink zhe place of 'Quite a Story', vich nobody vreally liked anyvay.

They shouldn't have been prying. It was written law that Mystique's room was off-limits, but the boys had something important to tell her. So, they had done the unspeakable and gone to the room, pushed the door open a crack, and peeked through.

She was sitting there, in her usual form, a blanket wrapped around her to ward off the cold from the open window. She had something in her hands, and she gazed at it fondly as she played with its tiny, sculpted hands. It was a marionette, dyed blue, perfect in its detail down to the jointed wooden tail. She smiled at the wooden representation of her child, and began to sing in a soft, breathy voice.

There is a castle on a cloud
I like to go there in my sleep
Aren't any floors for me to sweep
Not in my castle on a cloud

The boys almost laughed. They would have, if she hadn't seemed so sad. She tossed the puppet to one side carelessly, standing and going over to her floor-length mirror. She transformed in front of it, a girl who looked like Rogue but was not, a girl with thick auburn hair and two white braids. She turned back and began to pace, her hair flying wildly every time she turned.

There is a room that's full of toys
There are my hundred boys and girls
Nobody shouts or talks too loud
Not in my castle on a cloud

She continued her frantic pacing, but suddenly stopped, turned to something on the wall that Tabitha had obviously covered, and ripped away its drape. A crowd of children sat around a couple, all of them looking like Kurt except for two. Two children, with no fur, normal hands and feet, and bright red hair. Mystique and a boy. The woman, in a lovely white dress, had a hand on Mystique's shoulder.

There is a lady all in white
Holds me and sings a lullaby
She's nice to see and she's soft to touch
She says: " Cosette, I love you very much."

She turned again, grabbed a knife from the vanity, and slashed it across the face of the little redheaded girl, mutilating the face with its soft smile beyond recognition. Her anger suddenly abated, she dropped the knife as if shocked by her actions, then turned and stumbled back over to the bed, lifting the marionette as she went and placing it on a shelf with its kin, dolls designed after people she knew. They saw her own doll, its tiny painted face in a continual frown, its glass eyes staring mournfully at them.

I know a place where no one's lost
I know a place where no one cries
Crying at all is not allowed
Not in my castle on a cloud

She lay back, crying. Lance rapped on the door, and she immediately sat up, her face its usual hard mask, as unflexible as when she had been turned to stone. "What?" she snarled, and they crept in quietly. Lance placed a handmade card on the bed and they walked out. When they were gone, she stared at it curiously and opened it up.

"Happy Mother's Day! From Lance, Fred, Todd, Pietro, Wanda, Kurt, and Anna."

She looked at the card and a slow smile spread its way across her face. She hugged it to her chest for a second and slipped it under her pillow. She pulled a box from under the bed and opened it, adding a group of dolls to her shelf, placing them around her own figure and placing a small dab of black paint at the corners of her straight mouth, turning it into a smile. She placed the paint down, nodded, and walked out the door,humming as she went, sparing a single glance at the Brotherhood-marionettes gathered around the tiny wooden shapeshifter.

I know a place where no one's lost
I know a place where no one cries...