Disclaimer: The characters and scenarios are the property of Marvel. I do not own the X-Men and I make nothing from this.

The story is set in the AoA universe approximately 7-8 years ago. As always, thanks to Marg and Karl for your preview of the story and insight.


Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,

To the last syllable of recorded time;

And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,

And then is heard no more. It is a tale

Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,

Signifying nothing.

-William Shakespeare

Chapter One

"Hey, Earth to Kurt..." Linda snapped her fingers in front of Kurt's face, breaking him out of his reverie.

"Hmm? Ach, I'm sorry Liebling, I was miles away." He smile apologetically at his wife who had apparently been speaking to him at some length.

She grinned, leaning over the back of his chair to kiss the sensitive spot behind his ear. "Don't worry, I'm used to it by now. So what's got you so distracted tonight?" She circled the chair and flopped herself into his lap, draping an arm around his neck.

He slid his arms around her, savoring the smell of her freshly washed hair, still damp from the shower. "Just work, nothing special," he lied, closing the subject with a lingering kiss.

Kurt had become adept at avoiding her questions in the two years they'd been together. He hadn't intended for things to be this way. In the beginning, he'd wanted to tell her the truth - all of it. He'd wanted there to be no secrets between them, having grown up in the shadow of his mother's evasiveness. But in the end, the apple just doesn't fall far from the tree, as the saying went.

Linda - formerly Dabrowski, but now Linda Darkholme for just over a year - was a receptionist for a successful law firm in Washington DC. They took to trial some of the more notorious captured war criminals from the time of Apocalypse's reign. That was how Kurt had met her.

In the years since the fall of Apocalypse, Erik Lehnsherr, the X-Men's founding father, had turned his formerly outcast band of mutants into world-wide heroes, charged with the apprehension of rogue mutants who had been employed by Apocalypse during the war, as well as actively helping to rebuild North America. It was a very publicly celebrated role, and the X-Men were touted as the protectors of humankind. Kurt found that he enjoyed the image of that role, and when he'd met a lovely young woman who looked at him with stars in her eyes, rather than the fear or disgust he was most accustomed to from humans, he was more than flattered. He'd asked her out the same day, and they'd been together ever since.

The thing was, he knew he wasn't the noble hero that the world seemed to believe him to be. For every renegade brought to justice, there were others he was assigned to dispatch in a more permanent way. That, and the gathering of information, had been his job since joining the X-Men some twelve years ago, as it had been his mother's job before him. He was a Darkholme.

Kurt sighed to himself. He didn't want to be that man. He wanted to be the man Linda saw. He wanted this life, in all its normal, everyday beauty. He wanted a wife to come home to, and perhaps children one day, once the world had healed itself. So, that was the man he was when he was with her. In her presence, his unpredictable temper and cynicism made no appearance - he wouldn't allow it to. With her by his side, smiling came easier, though tonight, after receiving a call from Erik, it was a struggle.

He would never tell her about the shadowed hovels and nights of blood because he couldn't bear to imagine the horror that would fill her eyes. How would she feel if she knew the man she slept next to was no different in his methods than the men she sent to prison for life sentences? No, it was better this way. What he did was necessary. There were some villains that the legal system had no way to contain, that were too dangerous to be allowed to live. Someone had to ensure these people hurt no one further, and he was the man that did so. A vision of his mother's knowing smile filled his mind.

Linda broke off the kiss. "Mmm, that's more like it. So what sounds good for dinner? We've got frozen lasagna or I could order Chinese."

"Chinese."

"Gotcha."

Kurt flipped on the evening news after she got up to make the call, and thought about how lucky they were. This area, as one of political importance, had been among the first to be rebuilt and purged of contamination after the war. He should know, he and the rest of the X-Men helped do it. New York was another place that had received almost immediate attention, and the X-Men continued to have their base in Westchester. There were plenty of other places around North America that weren't so lucky, though. The death count in the Midwest was still rising from fallout related illness, New Mexico was a dead zone, as was most of Arizona. Advances had been made in water filtration, but drinking water was still sold at exorbitant prices, and food had to either be imported from overseas or raised in self-contained food centers situated in Canada. So much of the U.S. was filled with shanty towns where starvation and disease were rampant, and Kurt didn't see improvement on the horizon in the near future. Disgusted by the footage, he flipped the television back off and wandered into the kitchen.

"I got a call from Erik while you were at work. I need to head out again tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Linda asked in irritation. "You just got here a couple of days ago."

Kurt spent his time divided between the base, travel and Linda's apartment, never remaining anywhere for long.

He kissed the back of her neck. "Ja, I know, but duty calls. It's what you get for being married to an X-Man."

"I guess. Where to now?"

"I'm not sure yet. I have to return to the base for a briefing."

"Ugh, that sounds like some kind of James Bond movie - briefing. Why not just say you're suppose to hook up with your pals and make plans?" She grinned over her shoulder at him. Her teasing was nothing new.

"Ach, I'm wounded! Und here I thought such talk impressed you." He tried to join in her good humor.

"Impressed by shop talk? No way. What will impress me is if you actually wash dishes when it's your turn."

"Ja, ja. Dishwasher - it's all I'm good for to you."

"Oh, I can think of a few other things." Linda winked, a wicked smile on her face.

"If I'm a good boy und wash dishes do you promise to show me later?"

"Most assuredly, Mr. Darkholme."

"I can't wait, Mrs. Darkholme." They enjoyed another drawn out kiss and Kurt banished the earlier misgivings from his mind for the night. One day he would be the man Linda saw in truth.


Several days later

CRACK

Kurt's armored wristband connected with the woman's jaw again, splattering droplets of blood across the room.

"Tell me where they went!" He leaned down close to the cowering prostitute, his lips drawn back into a snarl.

He'd tracked Pyro and Blob as far as Mexico city, but their trail had ended here in this shoddy den of debauchery. The patrons of the small gambling establishment had quickly and silently left when Kurt arrived. He visually marked them and would find them later, if needed. This woman, as the manager, should be able to tell him what he wanted to know.

"You can make this as easy or as difficult as you like, Frau." He had his tail wrapped around her neck, tight enough to make swallowing difficult, but not yet enough to hinder her breathing. He slipped a dagger from his waistband and made a show of examining the blade for imperfections.

He continued in a pleasant, conversational tone, "I understand. Perhaps you meet many people, ja? Is that what you were going to tell me next?"

She eyed the blade, her hands ineffectually trying to loosen his tail. She was no more than twenty-five, but disease and years of hardship made her appear closer to middle age. "Look mister, I already told you, I ain't seen nobody like that here." Kurt's tail tightened almost imperceptibly, and her struggles intensified. "I'm telling the truth!" Her words came out strangled.

"I think not. I think you're lying." He moved the blade to rest just underneath her eye. The woman shuddered and Kurt could smell it when her bladder loosened. He pushed his face within a few inches of her own, capturing and holding her gaze with his baleful crimson eyes, a tactic that invariably worked on most people.

His voice dropped to a whisper. "You can't possibly have missed them. One is a hulking mass of lard, too heavy to even sit in a chair without collapsing it. The other is a thin, blonde man - likes to play with fire. You might've experienced some scorched property during his stay."

Tears leaked from her eyes. "Please...you don't understand. They got friends here, if I talk to you, I'm a dead woman."

Kurt smiled thinly. "Correction, if you don't talk to me, you're a dead voman."

Her shoulders shook with silent sobs as she muttered a prayer in Spanish. "Por favor..."

He watched a tiny stream of blood mingle with her tears as he pressed the knife ever so slightly into her skin. "Por favor!" She shrieked. "I'll tell you what you want to know, just stop!"

Kurt eased the pressure from the blade and waited.

"They talked about Brazil!" Her breathing came in quick gasps. "They were gonna meet some people in Brazil, that's all I know, I swear!"

"Sehr gut, meine hilfreiche Frau, it seems you'll live another day." Abruptly he rose, releasing his hold on her throat and replacing his dagger. Without sparing a backwards glance, he added, "you'll be happy to know you've helped humanity tonight." The only reply was that of soft sobs following him as he stepped into the night.

The narrow alleyway was filthy and looked deserted, but his sharp ears picked up the faint sound of voices from nearby. "El Diablo..." He smiled grimly. Being called a devil had lost its sting long ago. He disappeared in a cloud of sulfurous smoke, reappearing a few miles away in his lavish hotel suite housed in an elite section of the city. Being an X-Man had its perks.

Kurt divested himself of his uniform and compulsively washed his hands, scrubbing them fiercely, even though he'd been wearing gloves. Only when he was satisfied that they were clean did he return to the sitting room and pick up the telephone. It was 10:30pm here, so that made it 11:30 in D.C. - Linda might still be up, but even if she wasn't, he would call. She worried if he didn't. She picked up on the third ring.

"Hello?"

His wife's sleepy voice warmed something inside him. "Schatz, did I wake you?"

"Mm...only a little." He could hear her yawn. "Where are you?"

"Anchorage, for another week or so." The lie came easily.

"What are you doing up there, saving the world from rampaging moose? Or should it be 'meese'?" She giggled.

"Ja, vicious herd animals are a going concern here."

"I'll bet. So are you behaving yourself, or are you charming all the local girls?"

"You know me, Liebling, I'm irresistible." His mind flickered back to the dank bar room and the cowering woman he left there.

"Believe me, I know."

"Did you go to Pam und Phillip's little soirée?" Kurt asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah, it was predictably posh, but everyone missed you."

"Next time, perhaps."

"Are you coming home after Anchorage?"

"Ja, I hope so. If nothing else, I'll stop in on my way back to the base."

Annoyance crept into her voice. "Only if you can squeeze me into your busy schedule."

"Liebling..."

"Sorry, babe, I'm just tired, and missing you."

"I miss you, too. I'll see you soon, I promise, but for now, you need your sleep."

She yawned again. "Yeah. Take care of yourself. I love you."

"I love you, too." The line went dead as she hung up the phone. He dropped the receiver back in the cradle and ran his hand through his hair, sighing.