Everything | By : saiaax12 Category: X-men Comics > Het - Male/Female Views: 1065 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men or its characters, nor do I make any form of profit from it. |
Our limbs were entangled for one fateful night. I’d never met a girl; yes, you were still a girl; quite like you, with your long flaming red hair, wide sea-green eyes, and caramel-colored skin. I was convinced I’d never see someone quite like you again. I didn’t expect to see you again.
And yet there you were, standing in the San Francisco bustle, a boy that looked just like me walking next to you, talking excitedly. I wanted to run to you, to tell you that I was so happy to see you again. And yet, I couldn’t get myself to move at all. I received the death certificates. And yet, the son I’d never met was still alive. The woman I once and still loved was alive. So I decided that I would see you again in death… *.* It has been about three months since I learned he was dead. I cried. We were only together for one night, but I still cried. There is nothing quite like learning that the father of your only child is dead. The only man I ever loved was dead, gone from me forever. We actually used to perform in the same circus, but his attention was mostly taken up by his sister, Jimaine. Or so I thought. I sigh as I remember. I was Echidna, little mistress of all animals. I could kiss a snake without being poisoned. I could take a piece of a steak straight from a tiger’s mouth. For one act, I trained a horse to grip my foot in his mouth as he proudly galloped around the ring. The animals were my friends, my equals. I loved them and they loved me. He was Nightcrawler, the devil-man/boy who could perform death-defying stunts. Along with his beautiful side-kick Jimane, they were the main show. I don’t like to think back to those days, my focus is now on my son, Virgil. Virgil just turned 16, and looks so much like his father, I could cry. He’s always wanted to know why I am 31 to his 16. I’ve never told him; he didn’t need to know. But as I look out into the ocean, I think back to the day it all came out. It was a regular Friday afternoon; I washed dishes as I waited for Virgil to come home from his gymnastics practice. It’s his hobby; what he really loves is playing the piano and mathematics. As I passed the hallway mirror, I realized I hadn’t changed all that much. Sure, my hair isn’t as short as it used to be, but I’ve grown in other ways. I look at my jeans. Yeah. I need to lose that butt. ‘DING-DONG’ Who could that be? I wasn’t particularly close to my neighbors, and I had filed my taxes on time. Sighing, I call, “Give me a moment!” I was at the door in about a minute, and opened it, facing two men. One was tall, brunette, and wore the strangest glasses. They were tinted red. The next was short, burly, and raven-haired. I frowned, “Yes? May I help?” I still retain my heavy accent. Russian, to be exact. Both of them looked as if they were about to announce the end of the world. The brunette asked, “Are you Zoe Adamms?” My frown grew deeper, and I asked, “Yes. Can I help you?” The men exchanged looks, and the short one told me, “…We knew some…you….” He took a deep breath, and explained, “You showed up in a friend’s will.” I was confused, and it must have shown, because they gave me a sympathetic look. I quickly rearranged my features and told them, “Come in. My son should be home soon, and we can all sit down and wait for him. I think this concerns him too.” They came and sat in my living room, as I dialed my son’s cell-phone, and listened as his favorite song, something by Jimi Hendricks played. It was like that for about 11 seconds, and he picked up: “Hey, Mom. How are you?” My voice trembled as I greeted, “Hello, sweetheart. Um….Mommy needs you to come home now.” I looked over to where the two men were surveying the pictures. I heard Virgil’s voice over the phone, concerned, “Mom, are you okay? Did som―” Then something clicked. How I knew these men. Why they seemed so upset. Why they were holding an envelope with his writing on it. “It’s about your father. Come home.” Virgil let out a choked noise and said, “I’ll be there in a few minutes, Mom.” Then he hung up. Virgil had always tried to get his father’s identity out of me. I never let it spill, never let it through. Today was the day that my son learned the truth. Why he looked the way he did. Why he would disappear and reappear somewhere else. As I placed the phone back on the receiver, I took a deep breath and walked in the living room. They were still there, and looked up. The short one said, “You’re name ain’ Zoe. There’s something else on this envelope.” He looked at it, and read out, “Zelda.” I swallowed; it was my birth name. After a moment, I responded, “It was my name…in the old country.” To clarify that, I added, “Before I came to America.” I sank onto the loveseat, as the raven picked up a picture, and asked, “This yer kid?” I leaned over, it was of Virgil when he was in middle school. I nodded, “Y-Yes. He…he’s on the gymnastics team. He’s been doing it since he was 4.” He nodded, “You were a…” I shook my head, “No…no. I was an animal tamer. I could never stomach being so high up.” The door opened and shut, and Virgil burst into the room, and yelled out, “MOM, I’M HOME, WHAT’S GOING O―” He stopped upon spotting the two men there, and stared at them, then asked, “Who are you?” The brunette got up from his place on the couch, and held his hand out for Virgil to shake. My boy hesitantly took his hand and introduced himself, “Vincent Adamms.” Scott gave him a cynical smile, “My name is Scott, and this is Logan here.” After a moment, he added with a slight chuckl, “Ah…haha, you mean Virgil Wagner.” I swallowed. Years of staring into a lion’s mouth kept me from bursting into tears. Virgil frowned heavily, and asked,’ “Mom? What’s he talking about?” I sighed heavily, and said, “Sweetheart…I have to talk about some things to you.” Virgil believed that his name was Vincent Adamms. I never told him about my past in the circus. He thinks I just had him unusually young, and I became an animal whisperer by chance. That isn’t the case. Then I asked him, “Sit…Virgil.” Slowly, he sat, as Scott said, eyebrows raised and eyes probably wide underneath his shades. “I…I didn’t even know that Kurt had a son.” I looked up, and probably looked like a deer caught in the headlights, as Virgil asked him, “Who’s Kurt?” I answered before they could: “Virgil…” At his look of confusion, “It was what your father named you. Your father’s name is Kurt Wagner.” He gave me the most accusing look, and I truly felt that I deserved it. Logan nodded, “One of the best men I ever met. Boy Scout didn’t know you, Zelda…but I knew about you. Elf told me about you…I had to wait until he was drunk to hear about the kid.” Virgil fixed Logan with a funny look, and I silently laughed. Virgil didn’t appreciate being called ‘the kid’. Then he asked, “My dad…why do you guys know him? Whoever my dad is…was…whatever.” Scott swallowed and continued, “Your dad was a member of a team called the X-Men.” Virgil nodded, "Really? That’s kinda a big deal, isn’t it? I mean, you guys are cooler than the Avengers!” Logan raised an eyebrow, and asked, “Really.” Virgil ‘psshed’ and continued, “Hell yeah! That’s what Mom always said.” I looked off the side, blushing. Even though…even after everything, I was something of a cheerleader for Kurt. Then Scott smiled, “Yeah…yeah…Zelda, Vin…I mean Virgil never met his father?” I shook my head, “His father was there when he was born…I moved to America with Jimane, but we went in separate directions. Kurt…he attempted to get us back together when Virgil was about 2, but I…” I looked up at Scott and said, “I…didn’t feel that Virgil needed to be exposed to the lifestyle that you all lead. The danger…the excitement…” I sighed, “I still long for it, some days, but I…” I am bound to my son. I then relayed my story to them, as I remembered it happening. I didn’t know if they’d like it, but I knew it was the truth, and it was the time that Virgil knew the truth. (Flashback) “He’s getting so big.” It probably looked odd. A seventeen-year old girl sitting with a twenty-three year old man, dangling a toddler on her lap. No one was paying attention to the fact that both father and son looked like blue demons. They were paying attention to the fact that I was a teenage mother. Then I looked up at him, “Yes, he is.” Virgil looked up at me with wide golden eyes, and then stretched his chubby tri-digit hand out to his father’s much larger, stronger one. Kurt smiled and grasped it in his own tightly, apparently never wanting to let go. He looked at me, and asked, “How has vork been?” I nodded, “It’s been fine. I got a job offer over in Oregon.” Kurt frowned, “Oregon? Vhat do you mean, Oregon? That’s all zhe vay on zhe vest coast!” I looked to the side in desperation, “Kurt, I have a job!” The indigo-haired man stared at me quietly; studying me, then took a sip of his coffee. Virgil played on, completely unperturbed by the obvious tension between Kurt and I. Personally, I wanted to hug Kurt and never let go. But I was a bit of a failure. I was seventeen years old, with no G.E.D, a two-year-old child who was being dragged from the east coast to the west, and his father was torn. I shook my long flaming tresses, “Kurt, I can’t stay on the east coast. They can’t know. Herr…” Kurt shut his eyes and shivered a little, “Please do not remind me of him, Zelda.” I fell silent. After several long moment of a burning silence, I said, “He’s not going to know you’re his father, Kurt.” Kurt looked up from his coffee with a resigned look on his face, as he softly muttered, “Ja, ja.” I nearly began to cry as I continued, “I…I…with your faith crisis and all of this anti-mutant stuff going on, I can’t have Virgil around all of this hatred.” He looked so tired…so faint. I just wanted to comfort him, but I knew if I did, both Kurt and I would be in danger. Virgil would be killed. I spelled it out for Kurt, my sea-green eyes boring into his golden pools, “This is the last time you will see your son, Kurt.” From the look on Kurt’s face, you would have thought that I slapped him and told him that I was going to kill him. Then he firmly shut his mouth, and we both got up and after paying the bill, left the café. We walked down the street in an uneasy silence, and when we got to a park, Kurt said weakly, “I guess zhat zhis is goodbye.” I smiled weakly, “My flight leaves at 7.” Kurt kneeled and hugged Virgil tightly. As if he knew what was going to happen, my little boy asked his father, “Vatti go away?” I did actually begin to cry. Kurt looked his son deep in the eye and softly said, “Yes, Virgil. Vatti go away.” Virgil seemed to think about this for a moment, then tears welled up in his eyes, and he began to cry. We were both around him in a moment, shushing him, telling him everything was going to be okay, and he would see Vatti again. I knew in my heart of hearts that this wasn’t true. Kurt knew it too; we just didn’t have the heart to tell our baby. After several moments, Kurt softly sang a ‘forget-me’ spell, and Virgil’s eyes drooped shut. When he was fast asleep, I gently rested him on a bench, as Kurt and I said our goodbyes. He stroked my cheek gently, and muttered, “I vish you could stay.” I shook my head and gently reprimanded, “You know I can’t, Kurt. My place is where my son will be safe.” I looked over to the slumbering child. After several moments, he pressed a kiss to my lips, and gently muttered the words to ‘our’ song, “And if that love is true…” I gently brushed him away, “Kurt, you know that this…it won’t ever work again.” He sadly asked me, the pain clear in his voice, “Vas it truly a one night stand to you?” I wanted to say ‘no’, but I heard myself say to him, “Virgil wasn’t the mistake, Kurt.” He interrupted, “Virgil isn’t and never vill be a mistake!” I continued, clenching my fists, “NO! He isn’t. Us…sleeping together was the mistake.” He frowned at me, and sadly kissed me again, this time deep, long, and hungrily. Eventually, I had to push him away, and before he teleported away, he gently said, “Auf Weidersen, Zelda. Ich liebe dich.” He vanished in a puff of black and yellow smoke, and I stood there for a long time, simply bawling my eyes out, until I heard Virgil stir and ask me, “Mommy? Why are you crying?” I laughed through my tears, sat on the bench, and hugged my Virgil for a very long time. (End Flashback) “And that’s what happened.” There was silence, when Logan asked, “Was that about 13 years ago, on December 12th?” I nodded gently, “Yes.” Logan groaned slightly, “He came home kinda…out of it, then drank enough alcohol to poison three men. Wasted as hell. That’s when I learned about Virgil here. It was the one time I saw him drunk.” The raven shook his head, “He’s what I like to call a ‘calm’ drunk. He didn’t look drunk, but it was in his voice.” Then I tilted my head and asked, “But…why are you here now?” I scowled a little, and asked, “Why?” Scott weakly sighed, “Kurt…Kurt’s dead. He died a few weeks ago.” I began to cry as the truth sunk in. He was dead, and there was nothing I could do about it. Virgil was shocked into silence as he stared at Scott. I could barely see through my tears. I didn’t remember Virgil hugging me as he too gave into the choking sobs, as Logan gave us a sad look and Scott patted my shoulder in condolence. Nothing could comfort me. The man I loved was dead. My son probably felt betrayed. And little did I know that my beloved was watching us this whole time. How do I know that? Haha…read the next chapter, and you’ll see where it all began, how Virgil became an X-Man, got to know his father, and I got my lover back. *.* It wasn’t easy, but I had to leave them in Scott and Logan’s hands. I’d never seen Zelda cry so much. It hurt, but I had to leave them for now. I turn away from the mirror as my father grasps my shoulders and tells me, “Come. You have much work to do, Kurt.” I never thought I would or could trust him the way I do now, after our disastrous meeting on Islas de Demones. Now I do, and it feels great. I give one last look the mirror, and with a touch of his hand, my father dispels the image. I feel a twinge inside, and yet a sense of rising hope. They are alive. They are well. They are going to survive. Author’s Note: Yay! The prologue. This story is going to be from Zelda’s POV mostly. There will be little reflections from Kurt, once at the beginning, and once at the end. Some chapters will be from Kurt’s POV entirely, while others will alternate. So…do you like how it’s starting out? Or is it bad? Pick one! Our limbs were entangled for one fateful night. I’d never met a girl; yes, you were still a girl; quite like you, with your long flaming red hair, wide sea-green eyes, and caramel-colored skin. I was convinced I’d never see someone quite like you again. I didn’t expect to see you again. And yet there you were, standing in the San Francisco bustle, a boy that looked just like me walking next to you, talking excitedly. I wanted to run to you, to tell you that I was so happy to see you again. And yet, I couldn’t get myself to move at all. I received the death certificates. And yet, the son I’d never met was still alive. The woman I once and still loved was alive. So I decided that I would see you again in death… *.* It has been about three months since I learned he was dead. I cried. We were only together for one night, but I still cried. There is nothing quite like learning that the father of your only child is dead. The only man I ever loved was dead, gone from me forever. We actually used to perform in the same circus, but his attention was mostly taken up by his sister, Jimaine. Or so I thought. I sigh as I remember. I was Echidna, little mistress of all animals. I could kiss a snake without being poisoned. I could take a piece of a steak straight from a tiger’s mouth. For one act, I trained a horse to grip my foot in his mouth as he proudly galloped around the ring. The animals were my friends, my equals. I loved them and they loved me. He was Nightcrawler, the devil-man/boy who could perform death-defying stunts. Along with his beautiful side-kick Jimane, they were the main show. I don’t like to think back to those days, my focus is now on my son, Virgil. Virgil just turned 16, and looks so much like his father, I could cry. He’s always wanted to know why I am 31 to his 16. I’ve never told him; he didn’t need to know. But as I look out into the ocean, I think back to the day it all came out. It was a regular Friday afternoon; I washed dishes as I waited for Virgil to come home from his gymnastics practice. It’s his hobby; what he really loves is playing the piano and mathematics. As I passed the hallway mirror, I realized I hadn’t changed all that much. Sure, my hair isn’t as short as it used to be, but I’ve grown in other ways. I look at my jeans. Yeah. I need to lose that butt. ‘DING-DONG’ Who could that be? I wasn’t particularly close to my neighbors, and I had filed my taxes on time. Sighing, I call, “Give me a moment!” I was at the door in about a minute, and opened it, facing two men. One was tall, brunette, and wore the strangest glasses. They were tinted red. The next was short, burly, and raven-haired. I frowned, “Yes? May I help?” I still retain my heavy accent. Russian, to be exact. Both of them looked as if they were about to announce the end of the world. The brunette asked, “Are you Zoe Adamms?” My frown grew deeper, and I asked, “Yes. Can I help you?” The men exchanged looks, and the short one told me, “…We knew some…you….” He took a deep breath, and explained, “You showed up in a friend’s will.” I was confused, and it must have shown, because they gave me a sympathetic look. I quickly rearranged my features and told them, “Come in. My son should be home soon, and we can all sit down and wait for him. I think this concerns him too.” They came and sat in my living room, as I dialed my son’s cell-phone, and listened as his favorite song, something by Jimi Hendricks played. It was like that for about 11 seconds, and he picked up: “Hey, Mom. How are you?” My voice trembled as I greeted, “Hello, sweetheart. Um….Mommy needs you to come home now.” I looked over to where the two men were surveying the pictures. I heard Virgil’s voice over the phone, concerned, “Mom, are you okay? Did som―” Then something clicked. How I knew these men. Why they seemed so upset. Why they were holding an envelope with his writing on it. “It’s about your father. Come home.” Virgil let out a choked noise and said, “I’ll be there in a few minutes, Mom.” Then he hung up. Virgil had always tried to get his father’s identity out of me. I never let it spill, never let it through. Today was the day that my son learned the truth. Why he looked the way he did. Why he would disappear and reappear somewhere else. As I placed the phone back on the receiver, I took a deep breath and walked in the living room. They were still there, and looked up. The short one said, “You’re name ain’ Zoe. There’s something else on this envelope.” He looked at it, and read out, “Zelda.” I swallowed; it was my birth name. After a moment, I responded, “It was my name…in the old country.” To clarify that, I added, “Before I came to America.” I sank onto the loveseat, as the raven picked up a picture, and asked, “This yer kid?” I leaned over, it was of Virgil when he was in middle school. I nodded, “Y-Yes. He…he’s on the gymnastics team. He’s been doing it since he was 4.” He nodded, “You were a…” I shook my head, “No…no. I was an animal tamer. I could never stomach being so high up.” The door opened and shut, and Virgil burst into the room, and yelled out, “MOM, I’M HOME, WHAT’S GOING O―” He stopped upon spotting the two men there, and stared at them, then asked, “Who are you?” The brunette got up from his place on the couch, and held his hand out for Virgil to shake. My boy hesitantly took his hand and introduced himself, “Vincent Adamms.” Scott gave him a cynical smile, “My name is Scott, and this is Logan here.” After a moment, he added with a slight chuckl, “Ah…haha, you mean Virgil Wagner.” I swallowed. Years of staring into a lion’s mouth kept me from bursting into tears. Virgil frowned heavily, and asked,’ “Mom? What’s he talking about?” I sighed heavily, and said, “Sweetheart…I have to talk about some things to you.” Virgil believed that his name was Vincent Adamms. I never told him about my past in the circus. He thinks I just had him unusually young, and I became an animal whisperer by chance. That isn’t the case. Then I asked him, “Sit…Virgil.” Slowly, he sat, as Scott said, eyebrows raised and eyes probably wide underneath his shades. “I…I didn’t even know that Kurt had a son.” I looked up, and probably looked like a deer caught in the headlights, as Virgil asked him, “Who’s Kurt?” I answered before they could: “Virgil…” At his look of confusion, “It was what your father named you. Your father’s name is Kurt Wagner.” He gave me the most accusing look, and I truly felt that I deserved it. Logan nodded, “One of the best men I ever met. Boy Scout didn’t know you, Zelda…but I knew about you. Elf told me about you…I had to wait until he was drunk to hear about the kid.” Virgil fixed Logan with a funny look, and I silently laughed. Virgil didn’t appreciate being called ‘the kid’. Then he asked, “My dad…why do you guys know him? Whoever my dad is…was…whatever.” Scott swallowed and continued, “Your dad was a member of a team called the X-Men.” Virgil nodded, “Really? That’s kinda a big deal, isn’t it? I mean, you guys are cooler than the Avengers!” Logan raised an eyebrow, and asked, “Really.” Virgil ‘psshed’ and continued, “Hell yeah! That’s what Mom always said.” I looked off the side, blushing. Even though…even after everything, I was something of a cheerleader for Kurt. Then Scott smiled, “Yeah…yeah…Zelda, Vin…I mean Virgil never met his father?” I shook my head, “His father was there when he was born…I moved to America with Jimane, but we went in separate directions. Kurt…he attempted to get us back together when Virgil was about 2, but I…” I looked up at Scott and said, “I…didn’t feel that Virgil needed to be exposed to the lifestyle that you all lead. The danger…the excitement…” I sighed, “I still long for it, some days, but I…” I am bound to my son. I then relayed my story to them, as I remembered it happening. I didn’t know if they’d like it, but I knew it was the truth, and it was the time that Virgil knew the truth. (Flashback) “He’s getting so big.” It probably looked odd. A seventeen-year old girl sitting with a twenty-three year old man, dangling a toddler on her lap. No one was paying attention to the fact that both father and son looked like blue demons. They were paying attention to the fact that I was a teenage mother. Then I looked up at him, “Yes, he is.” Virgil looked up at me with wide golden eyes, and then stretched his chubby tri-digit hand out to his father’s much larger, stronger one. Kurt smiled and grasped it in his own tightly, apparently never wanting to let go. He looked at me, and asked, “How has vork been?” I nodded, “It’s been fine. I got a job offer over in Oregon.” Kurt frowned, “Oregon? Vhat do you mean, Oregon? That’s all zhe vay on zhe vest coast!” I looked to the side in desperation, “Kurt, I have a job!” The indigo-haired man stared at me quietly; studying me, then took a sip of his coffee. Virgil played on, completely unperturbed by the obvious tension between Kurt and I. Personally, I wanted to hug Kurt and never let go. But I was a bit of a failure. I was seventeen years old, with no G.E.D, a two-year-old child who was being dragged from the east coast to the west, and his father was torn. I shook my long flaming tresses, “Kurt, I can’t stay on the east coast. They can’t know. Herr…” Kurt shut his eyes and shivered a little, “Please do not remind me of him, Zelda.” I fell silent. After several long moment of a burning silence, I said, “He’s not going to know you’re his father, Kurt.” Kurt looked up from his coffee with a resigned look on his face, as he softly muttered, “Ja, ja.” I nearly began to cry as I continued, “I…I…with your faith crisis and all of this anti-mutant stuff going on, I can’t have Virgil around all of this hatred.” He looked so tired…so faint. I just wanted to comfort him, but I knew if I did, both Kurt and I would be in danger. Virgil would be killed. I spelled it out for Kurt, my sea-green eyes boring into his golden pools, “This is the last time you will see your son, Kurt.” From the look on Kurt’s face, you would have thought that I slapped him and told him that I was going to kill him. Then he firmly shut his mouth, and we both got up and after paying the bill, left the café. We walked down the street in an uneasy silence, and when we got to a park, Kurt said weakly, “I guess zhat zhis is goodbye.” I smiled weakly, “My flight leaves at 7.” Kurt kneeled and hugged Virgil tightly. As if he knew what was going to happen, my little boy asked his father, “Vatti go away?” I did actually begin to cry. Kurt looked his son deep in the eye and softly said, “Yes, Virgil. Vatti go away.” Virgil seemed to think about this for a moment, then tears welled up in his eyes, and he began to cry. We were both around him in a moment, shushing him, telling him everything was going to be okay, and he would see Vatti again. I knew in my heart of hearts that this wasn’t true. Kurt knew it too; we just didn’t have the heart to tell our baby. After several moments, Kurt softly sang a ‘forget-me’ spell, and Virgil’s eyes drooped shut. When he was fast asleep, I gently rested him on a bench, as Kurt and I said our goodbyes. He stroked my cheek gently, and muttered, “I vish you could stay.” I shook my head and gently reprimanded, “You know I can’t, Kurt. My place is where my son will be safe.” I looked over to the slumbering child. After several moments, he pressed a kiss to my lips, and gently muttered the words to ‘our’ song, “And if that love is true…” I gently brushed him away, “Kurt, you know that this…it won’t ever work again.” He sadly asked me, the pain clear in his voice, “Vas it truly a one night stand to you?” I wanted to say ‘no’, but I heard myself say to him, “Virgil wasn’t the mistake, Kurt.” He interrupted, “Virgil isn’t and never vill be a mistake!” I continued, clenching my fists, “NO! He isn’t. Us…sleeping together was the mistake.” He frowned at me, and sadly kissed me again, this time deep, long, and hungrily. Eventually, I had to push him away, and before he teleported away, he gently said, “Auf Weidersen, Zelda. Ich liebe dich.” He vanished in a puff of black and yellow smoke, and I stood there for a long time, simply bawling my eyes out, until I heard Virgil stir and ask me, “Mommy? Why are you crying?” I laughed through my tears, sat on the bench, and hugged my Virgil for a very long time. (End Flashback) “And that’s what happened.” There was silence, when Logan asked, “Was that about 13 years ago, on December 12th?” I nodded gently, “Yes.” Logan groaned slightly, “He came home kinda…out of it, then drank enough alcohol to poison three men. Wasted as hell. That’s when I learned about Virgil here. It was the one time I saw him drunk.” The raven shook his head, “He’s what I like to call a ‘calm’ drunk. He didn’t look drunk, but it was in his voice.” Then I tilted my head and asked, “But…why are you here now?” I scowled a little, and asked, “Why?” Scott weakly sighed, “Kurt…Kurt’s dead. He died a few weeks ago.” I began to cry as the truth sunk in. He was dead, and there was nothing I could do about it. Virgil was shocked into silence as he stared at Scott. I could barely see through my tears. I didn’t remember Virgil hugging me as he too gave into the choking sobs, as Logan gave us a sad look and Scott patted my shoulder in condolence. Nothing could comfort me. The man I loved was dead. My son probably felt betrayed. And little did I know that my beloved was watching us this whole time. How do I know that? Haha…read the next chapter, and you’ll see where it all began, how Virgil became an X-Man, got to know his father, and I got my lover back. *.* It wasn’t easy, but I had to leave them in Scott and Logan’s hands. I’d never seen Zelda cry so much. It hurt, but I had to leave them for now. I turn away from the mirror as my father grasps my shoulders and tells me, “Come. You have much work to do, Kurt.” I never thought I would or could trust him the way I do now, after our disastrous meeting on Islas de Demones. Now I do, and it feels great. I give one last look the mirror, and with a touch of his hand, my father dispels the image. I feel a twinge inside, and yet a sense of rising hope. They are alive. They are well. They are going to survive. Author’s Note: Yay! The prologue. This story is going to be from Zelda’s POV mostly. There will be little reflections from Kurt, once at the beginning, and once at the end. Some chapters will be from Kurt’s POV entirely, while others will alternate. So…do you like how it’s starting out? Or is it bad? Pick one!While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. 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