This may turn into slash in later chapters, or I might leave it as a oneshot. I'm still deciding.

Review if you want, no flames please.

I do not own any characters you recognise. Kurt belonges to Marvel.

He couldn't believe it. He shut his eyes tight, gold hidden by blue before they snapped open again, only to see the same world he had seen moments before. It wasn't a dream. It had really happened. He had attacked the president of the United States. He had had no control. All he could remember was falling asleep in the small flat he had come to call home, and the next he knew, his body was moving on its own, words coming from his mouth that were not his own. And he had almost killed the President.

A blue furred body shivered in horror at his own actions. No. They were not his own, he hadn't done it. It may have been his body, but it wasn't him. But no one would believe it. He knew for a fact no one would believe him. After all, who would believe something like him?

Who would believe a monster?

Kurts eyes shut tight as his body moved again. He thanked god it was his own actions now, and moved from alley to alley across the city. He couldn't hold still for more than a moment. He was to frightened. The adrenalin still rushing through his system was keeping him going, filling him with a need to move, anywhere but here. He shook his head and ported again. Not here. Keep moving. Keep going. Find somewhere safe. Find somewhere quiet. Somewhere alone.

Keep moving. Again, again, and again. He ported nearly as soon as his feet touched the ground. He didn't bother to look around. The sound of his own movement and the smell of sulfur never quieted. He wouldn't let it.

Bamph.

A silent alley.

Keep moving.

Bamph.

A startled cry. A young teen sitting in an alley, needle still in his arm.

It doesn't matter. Just keep going.

Bamph.

A dog barking, growling.

This alley is his. Just leave. Just keep going.

Again and again. Never slowing, Kurt moved across cities and state lines, through dark alleys and lighted streets, farm lands and worlds of buildings that reached the sky.

And yet, as many places as he saw, as many different worlds as he entered, he was never at home.

He had no home.

Kurt landed once more on the earth. His knees shook, then gave out. His body dropped to the dusty ground. He forced his eyes open, not knowing when he had closed them. He peered around. He was in a church, the place full of dust and looking like is had been pre-renovation when it was abandoned, with scaffolding on one wall. Kurt sighed and closed his eyes.

He had to keep moving. He needed to keep going, it was dangerous to stop now.

But his body had a mind of its own once again.

He thanked God. This time, all his body wanted to do, was sleep.