From - Tue Jul 22 00:02:10 1997 From: Stepshadow To: untold-l@netcom.com Subject: "Middle of the Road" (1/1) Date: Tue, 22 Jul 97 02:03:55 +0000 Requisite Disclaimer: Creed, Erik, Kurt, Raven, Wanda, the whole Age of Apocalypse shmear, and most everything and everyone else named in this story are owned by Marvel Comics, and used without their permission. This is an unauthorized bit of fanfiction, written purely for my own amusement; no money is being made from this. The fanfiction itself is copyrighted to meeeeeeeeee! Okay, time to lay off the pixy sticks at two in the morning . . . . Standard Newbie Note: This is the first fanfic I've had the nerve to send to Untold-L (matter of fact, the first fanfic I've had nerve to send anywhere!), so I'm curious . . . . Think it's good? Awful? PLEASE, tell me! Thanks. ~S "Middle of the Road" by Stepshadow "Middle of the road's Trying to find me I'm standing in the middle of life" -- The Pretenders, "Middle of the Road" Running, running . . . . She doesn't know where she's going, doesn't know how long it'll take her to get there, but it doesn't matter. All that's important to her is that she has to get there as fast as she can. _He_ is following her. She can feel his presence, more mental than physical. He's not there, of course, but she knows he's chasing her. Hounding her. That's all he really is at times -- a hound -- but while her mind knows that, her psyche still cowers in fear. And it galls her. Running . . . . She clutches the wailing child to her chest, trying to hush his cries. 'I'd stop if I could, Kurt,' she thinks in agony, 'but we have to keep going. I'm sorry.' He can't hear her -- though he's a mutant already, he's not a telepath -- but it makes her feel better. Even if he doesn't stop crying. Running . . . . A light through the snow gleams, and she runs towards it. Blindly. But she is too tired, and maybe -- God forbid, she would say, if she believed in a god -- too old. A foot slips, and she rolls, curling instinctively to protect the child. Then her head hits the ground hard, and all goes dark. She doesn't see them when they arrive, a man and a girl speaking a language she would be familiar with, were she able to hear it. She doesn't know they've found her blood on the snow. Nor is she aware of her body being lifted and carried toward the light, her son's brought along as well. She is, at that time, beyond knowing anything. * * * The first things she notices when she opens her eyes are the walls. They're a soft blue that doesn't hurt her eyes, still adapted to the nighttime darkness. 'It's odd to have walls again after being outside for so long,' she thinks. There's a voice, a mild baritone with concern tingeing it. "So you're awake at last, Ms. Darkholme. It's been a while, hasn't it?" In her mind's eye, she associates the voice with a face. Strong bones, prematurely white hair, intense blue eyes with a seriousness belying the youthful smile. "Since when do you call me 'Ms. Darkholme', Erik?" she asks. He smiles at her, a smile older and full of regrets, "Since never. You gave us quite a fright when you showed up here, Raven." "I'd have called ahead if I'd had a chance." Her own smile is grim. "Kurt?" "If that's your son, he's unharmed. Wanda -- my daughter -- is watching him." His eyes are serious as he says, "I thought you swore you'd never come here." Raven sighs and shakes her head, "'Desperate times call for desperate measures.' My current situation is desperate, not to mention other things less tasteful. Let's leave it at that." "Fine." Erik doesn't quite trust her; that much is plain in his voice, if not on his face. He's grown older, she realises; there are frown lines at the corners of his mouth and worry lines at his forehead that she doesn't remember. Similarly, there's a slightly more weary energy to Erik Lehnsherr, a toned-down version of the exuberance of youth. 'We've all aged,' she thinks sadly, 'even if it hardly shows. We'll be handing this on to the next generation in a couple of decades. Has it come so soon?' "You're fretting again, Raven," he says. "What's wrong?" "Just realising how very mortal we are," she replies. The sadness she feels must show more than she thinks, because Erik frowns. Before he can say anything, however, a childish squall erupts from behind the closed door. "Don' wanna play! Wan' Mutti!" "Shh! You'll bother them!" "It's all right, Wanda," calls Erik. "You can both come in." The door opens slowly, and then two young children enter. The older is a pretty girl of some eight or nine years with auburn hair and green eyes, while the younger, a boy five-odd years her junior, looks like a blue-furred demon -- except no demon would ever be called cute. The boy rushes over to Raven, his yellow eyes happy. "Mutti!" he exclaims joyfully, bounding up to give her a tight hug. "I missed you lots," he says with childish seriousness, sitting down on the bedspread. "I missed you too, Kurt." Raven tousles the boy's hair kissing his forehead. "Erik, this is my son, Kurt. Kurt, this is Erik Lehnsherr." Something unidentifiable flashes over Erik's face, then is gone. He goes over and extends a hand to Kurt. "Good to meet you," he says, talking as if to an equal. Suddenly shy, Kurt ducks his head as he sticks his own hand out, "Nice to meet you too, Herr Lehnsherr," he mumbles. "Father," Wanda says quietly, tugging on his arm, "Pietro said there's someone here to see you. It's 'portant." "Then we'd better go see what it is." Erik puts a hand on Wanda's shoulder, then glances back at Raven. "I have some things I'd like to discuss with you later, if you're feeling up to it." Her reply is a nod, "I'm feeling much better." "Very good." There is a brief acknowledgement as their eyes lock for a moment, then father and daughter leave. "" asks Kurt in German, "" "" she replies in kind. "" "" "" he persists. "" Again, "" Kurt snuggles up next to her with a yawn. "" "" She tucks an arm around him, smoothing his hair idly. As she listens to Kurt's breathing slow, Raven considers her next move. 'I can't stay here. Erik's been more than kind, but I don't want to prevail on him. I have to keep moving -- have to stay ahead of Creed -- and I can't take Kurt along. He's too young.' She looks down at her sleeping son, and feels a pang of guilt and grief. 'No, it's for the best,' thinks Raven, trying to steel herself. 'He deserves better than I can give him.' With a dismal sigh, she folds her arms around Kurt and joins him in slumber. * * * "I've got to be moving on." In spite of herself, Raven feels a twinge of sadness as she says the words. "Don't get me wrong, Erik -- you've been more than kind. Far kinder than I deserve, to be sure. But I can't stay." His intense blue eyes lock with her yellow ones, and there is a brief silence. Finally, Erik nods. "I suspected as much; you're not the type to stay put, after all." "It goes beyond that this time." "How so?" "Don't ask." She bows her head. "Whatever the case may be, I'm putting more than just myself in danger by staying here. There's just one thing . . . ." "Yes?" Erik's eyes narrow at the catch in her voice. Raven takes a deep breath. "It's Kurt." Her words are a rush. "He deserves better than this, better than I'll be able to give him. If you know of somewhere he'd be safe and happy, I --" She breaks off, her heart in her throat. Again, he is silent for a long moment. After a time, Erik frowns and says, "He could stay here. I won't say I'll raise him as my own, but I think he'd be all right here." All she says is a simple, "Thank you," but the full extent of her gratitude is evident in her eyes. "When are you leaving?" "As soon as I get a few things together." He nods, and says, "Don't let me delay you, then. And," Erik adds before Raven steps out of the room, "take care of yourself. Keep in touch." Raven almost smiles. "I'll do my best," she replies before slipping out the door. * * * "" asks Kurt from the doorway. Raven doesn't turn immediately; she closes the small rucksack and takes a moment to compose herself. "" When there is no comprehension in his eyes, she continues, "" Kurt nods slowly. "" His tone of voice, the sad light in his yellow eyes, almost tears her heart in two. "" she says in a choked voice, dropping to her knees and holding her arms out for him. Kurt comes and sits in front of her, putting his hands in hers. "" "" Kurt begins to cry, throwing himself into her arms. "" he whimpers. Raven holds him, soothing his tears and trying to hold back her own. "" He bravely swallows his tears and gives her a nod. "" he assures her, then gives her another tight hug. Regretfully, she unwinds his arms from her neck. Standing, she picks up the rucksack and holds a hand out to Kurt. Solemnly, he takes it, and she can see he's struggling to hold back his emotions. They walk out of the room, through the maze of hallways until they reach the doors that lead outside. Stopping with one hand on the doorknob, Raven looks down at her son one last time. "" she promises, then opens the door and steps out. Halfway down the walkway, she stops, turning back to see Kurt standing in the open doorway, waving. There is a barely-visible glimmer of tears in his eyes. Raven waves back to him, then turns and resolutely walks down the path, not looking back again. She can't afford it now. That part of her life is past, no matter what she'd like -- and it was for the best. At least the memory will still be there.