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THE ONLY THING	By : KerwinLS Category: X-men Comics > Het - Male/Female Views: 1651 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Men, nor do I own the characters from it. I make no money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-THE ONLY THING
- 1
THE ONLY THING

Part One: Reunion

"I can do both," I say quietly, more to myself than to the
others, as Prophet concludes that the off-worlders and Sage
have to be brought to the other end of the Portal, so they can
close it off and imprison the Monsters on our world. An idea
appeared in my mind even as he spoke the words.

Porting them to their world leaves me exhausted physically and
emotionally, since I have to interact with Logan while I am
there. In the midst of those stressful ports, I still find enough
time to apologize quickly for betraying him. When he calls me
"Elf", a new strength fills my flagging body. But there is no
time to dwell on that.

Sage and Beast have no success with the Portal. They can't
even get near it. It is all up to me now. Quickly, I tell them
what I think I can do, needing only to hear that my idea might
be possible.

Then it is time for me to take action. Either it will work, or it
will not, but I will never know. I will be dead.

Holding the image of Linda in my heart, I teleport into this side
of the Portal and reach out to grasp the black swirls. Hideous
agony washes over me, but still I fight to contact the physical
part of this gaping maw of sheer energy. With my last ounce of
strength and consciousness, I focus on New Apocalypse and
will myself and this end of the Portal to be there.

For an instant that feels like an eternity, reality turns inside out
with a vengeance. My whole being seems to turn inside out
along with it. Chaos and insanity engulf me, threatening to
freeze me between worlds. The cold, dead space that I have
always traveled through almost instantaneously when I port
now surrounds me, as if I am frozen here in some kind of slow
motion. It is a lifeless abyss, silent, empty, dark as the grave.

Terror grasps my heart. Never before has teleporting felt like
this. I am surrounded by an unbearable emptiness, no life, no
light, no energy. It might as well be the vacuum of outer
space, but without the stars and galaxies to shed their blessed
light. I can see nothing, feel nothing around me. When I try to
draw a desperate breath, an acrid stench burns my nose and
the back of my throat. I cannot breathe here! Is this death
then? Have I failed in my desperate gamble? No, let it not be
so!

I lose my focus. Where am I? Where was I going? I must
think. I must go on!

With my last bit of air, I whisper Linda's name into the
deafening silence, invoking my fondest memories of her and
our world.

And then I am through! I have a brief glimpse of incredible
energies being released as I struggle to free myself from the
Portal. I feel as if I am being torn apart and burned alive at the
same time. I know I am screaming in agony, but I cannot hear
myself in the midst of this chaos. I may not be in New
Apocalypse, but surely this must be my own world. Will it still
work? Have I succeeded?

The Portal explodes around me into a fiery kaleidoscope of
power. I feel myself falling, falling into an endless pit of
blackness.

I don't recall ever hitting bottom, but I must have, because I
come back to consciousness lying on something soft. The
intense pain is gone.

Somehow, somewhere, I still exist, surrounded by a pearl-grey
fog, my mind still reeling in confusion over what happened.

Can this be death? If so, it is not as I have imagined it. For a
time, I just lie there, luxuriating in the lack of pain and trying
to make sense of where I am. I force myself to stand up, not
even sure what it is that I am standing on.

A shape appears in the fog, solidifying into something vaguely
human, not quite tall enough to be an adult. With a start, I
recognize that young version of myself from another
dimension.

"You're dead," I say stupidly as he approaches.

"Yeah, that's what I figured," he replies matter-of-factly. "I
could see Mr. Howlett holding my body. I even tried to say
something to him, but I don't know if he heard me. Then I
waited to find out what would happen. When I saw you short-
circuit the Portal, I had a strong feeling you'd be arriving here
soon. But I have no idea where we are." He glances around
apprehensively. "Somehow, this doesn't look anything like
heaven."

"It is not." I too look around, as if I can see something that he
cannot. The vague sort of foggy mist surrounding us. A
strange feeling of lightness in my body, which should be
screaming with pain. The memory of seeing Linda in a place
rather like this, long after she was dead. "I have been here
before," I tell him, adding uncertainly, "I think."

"So where are we then?"

"I am not sure. I think maybe somevhere betveen life und
death?"

"That doesn't make sense."

"I know, but that is all I can tell you."

He turns all the way around, staring into the mist, as if hoping
to see a troop of angels coming to welcome him to paradise, or
at any rate, to whatever his religion told him he would find.
Then he shakes his head. "I feel as if I'm �- waiting for
something �- or someone. I can't explain it. Anyway, I'm glad
to see you. I wanted to tell you this before, but I never had a
chance. I thought I might be like you when I grew up." He
looked down, as if he were embarrassed to admit it, then said,
"And I kinda liked the idea."

I shake my head, astonished that he could say such a thing.
"Nein. You do not vant to be like me. I vas bitter und full of
hate."

"I figured that was because something had hurt you badly. I �
I understand what it's like to want revenge. But you were so
confident and brave." His glowing eyes meet mine. "Thank
you, Mr. Darkholme, for making my death count for
something."

His gratitude melts away some of the ice I keep around my
heart.

"It vas you who gave me the courage to do that, boy," I tell
him.

"Me?"

I put one hand on his shoulder. "Ja, you. Thank you for
showing me the vay."

He smiles shyly, seeming about to say more, but suddenly his
eyes widen and he stares at something behind my back.

"Mom!! Dad!!"

I turn as he runs past me. A man and a woman stand in the
glowing mist, their arms held out toward him. As he flings
himself joyfully into their embrace, all three of them disappear
in what I can only describe as a bright blaze of glory.

I am alone again, still unsure of where or why I am here.

Then I hear her voice and see her take form in the mist in front
of me.

"Kurt! Kurt! Oh, my darling, you did it!"

Linda is in my arms, her lips pressed to mine, her delicate
breasts flattened against my chest, the heat of her sex burning
against my own.

We fall backwards, landing on that same intangible
nothingness, suddenly without clothing. She straddles me,
enveloping my eager cock in her body, fierce triumph on her
face and a light in her eyes that glows as brightly as my own.

Each tiny movement, each breath, is ecstasy, as I plunge
repeatedly into her. Never before has it felt this way. It is not
just a joining of our bodies. It is also a communion of our
souls, as if we are now truly one.

There is no beginning and no end, only a continuous and
unbelievable pleasure, as if we are together in endless orgasm.
We move as one, shifting from one position to another.
Forever, I gaze down at her beloved face, then she turns and I
hold her from behind. The mist swirls around us, and there is
no up or down, no her and me. There is only us and our love
for each other.

But even such incredible bliss has to end sometime. We lie
entwined in each other's arms, content and complete just to be
doing so.

A stray thought intrudes upon my happiness. I must tell her.
"There have been �- others," I begin. "Men �-"

Her finger covers my lips. "Hush. I know that. You told me
once before. Why would you think that would matter to me
now?"

"I �- cared a lot for one of them." I close my eyes in pain,
knowing the truth is far more than what I just said. "I still
care for him."

"And you betrayed him." She laughs gaily. "But in the end,
you saved his world. My foolish man, you have proven yourself
worthy of the love of many people, not only me."

She kisses me, gently and without re-igniting our passion.
Then she draws back, and the smile fades from her face.

"But now it's time for you to go back and try to save our own
world."

"I don't understand. How can I go back?"

"You aren't dead yet."

"But I must be. The boy vas dead und he vas here."

"The depth of his desire to find out what happened allowed him
to linger for a short time. When his parents came for him, he
moved on."

"I vant to move on. Vith you."

She shakes her head. "There's still a chance our world can
survive. You may be the one who can make a difference in what
happens. Since you were partly responsible for what happened,
so now you must try to make it right."

"Vhat can I do, against those creatures?" I ask, cold despair
creeping back into my heart.

"Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. What matters is that you
must try."

"Linda, nein! Please! I vant to stay here vith you!"

"You have the choice." She places her hand against my cheek
and continues sadly, "The final decision is yours to make. But
would you betray your comrades yet again, those who are
surely doomed if you remain here? If you truly wish to be
eternally worthy of my love, Kurt Darkholme, you must try."

I can see in her eyes how she will feel about me, if I take the
coward's way out. I hang my head, wanting to hide the fierce
desire in my heart to be always with her. Never to go back to
that loneliness. Never to feel that emptiness in my heart.

And nevermore to see that total love and admiration shine on
her face when she looks upon me. I must not disappoint her
again, as I did last time I met her in this place. I could not
bear that.

I square my shoulders and raise my head. "I vill do my best."
The words are torn from reluctant lips, but they are spoken.

She steps closer, and wraps her arms around me. "Know that
you have not disappointed us," she whispers in my ear. "Not
any of us."

"I vill fight no longer for revenge, my darling, but for the
continued existence of our vorld," I say firmly. "I svear this to
you by our love."

I am rewarded by the proud smile that lights up her face. "Go
back now, and do what you can. But remember this: you must
first unite, and then divide to conquer. I can tell you no more,
but I will be waiting for you, no matter what happens."

"Ich liebe dich so sehr," I say softly. I long to hold her against
me once again, but I must not.

"As I love you," came the firm reply. "And always will."

Her lips touch mine in a last chaste kiss. She is gone from my
arms and I am falling back into the pain and horror of the
world of the living.

END Part One

German translations

Ich liebe dich so sehr. I love you so very much.

Part Two: Unite

The next thing I feel is an incredible sense of exhaustion.
Simply taking another breath is an effort. I can hear the sound
of my heart beating in my ears, slowly, unevenly. And yet,
nothing hurts. As far as I can tell, I am alive and reasonably
undamaged, just very tired and sore.

A familiar rough voice assaults my ears. "Nightcrawler, what
the fuck are you doin' here?"

I open my eyes. Yes, it is really Logan, looking down at me in
puzzlement and consternation. Our Logan, one-handed and
wild-haired, unlike that version from the other world. I am not
sure whether I'm glad to see him or not, considering what he
did when he held the Apocalypse Power.

"Vhere is here?" I ask, struggling to sit up.

I stare around at my surroundings, trying to make sense of
things. This place does not look at all like anything in or near
the city of New Apocalypse, where I expected to be. A small
wooden cabin, flames burning brightly in a rustic fireplace, a
simple table and chair, and very little else. I am on the edge of
a narrow bed. A worn quilt slides from my shoulders as I
change position, but it remains wrapped around my mostly-
naked body.

"We're in Canada, Darkholme. Not too far from a town called
Salluit in northern Quebec. It's mostly wilderness up here in
the mountains. Just the way I like it."

"Vhy? Vhat are you doing here? I have to go back. Jean needs
us." I try to stand, but my head is spinning. I sit back down.
"Verdammt!"

"Take it easy, bub. You're in no shape to help anybody right
now. As for what I'm doing here, I could just as easily ask that
about you. At first glance, I thought you were dead when I
found you outside in the snow a little while ago, your clothing
all charred and torn to pieces."

"I vas dead. Vell, almost dead anyvay. I came back to save the
vorld."

He gives a scornful snort. "Yeah, right. X-Men always save the
world, don't they?" The bitter sarcasm in his voice brings me
back to reality. "I'm here," he continues, "because I need to
be alone just now. I killed Cyclops, then I took down Emplate,
with the help of a few friends who have gone back to their own
homes now that all that's done. I set Jeannie free not long
ago. Whatever she's doin' now, she's better off without me."

"You do not understand! Our entire vorld is in danger! The
Monsters �"

"What Monsters? What are ya babblin' about?"

I start trying to explain, but I'm too excited, talking so fast
even I would not be able to understand what I'm saying, not to
mention that parts of it are in my native German.

Logan goes over to the fire, takes a coffee pot off the hearth
with his only remaining hand, and pours some into a chipped
ceramic mug. "Here. Shut up and drink this. It'll help warm
you up. Then start again at the beginning and this time try
makin' some sense."

I do as he says, organizing my thoughts and giving him a
mostly coherent account of what's been going on in New
Apocalypse as quickly as I can. I do not mention my unworldly
meeting with Linda. Telling him that would only convince him
that I'm crazy.

He hears me out in silence, sitting on a wooden chair tipped
back against the cabin wall. He nods his head a few times, but
frowns more often.

"Ok, I guess that stuff about a Portal explains yer bein' here,
an' that explosion an' the lights right before ya showed up. I
was thinkin' it was just the Northern Lights puttin' on a show."

"You must go vith me," I insist once again. "Jean needs you."

He shakes his head. "Don't matter if she does. I can't trust
myself anywhere near the Apocalypse Power. I still want it for
myself. If anything, I'd be a threat to her, and, if what you just
told me is true, that's the last thing she needs right now."

"You must! You may be the only one who can save our vorld!"
"Ya ain't makin' sense, Darkholme. Didn't ya just tell me them
versions of me from other places couldn't do much of anything
against those Monsters? What makes ya think I could do any
better?"

I'm at a loss for words. He is correct. Maybe there is nothing
he could do, after all. But Linda told me to unite. That had to
mean I was to unite Logan and Jean. After all, why would I be
here, with Logan, if that were not so? But how can I make him
see this? What if I imagined the entire thing? Maybe this is
foolishness and I am wasting my time here.

And yet � I can still feel Linda in my arms, and hear her last
words to me. It was so real. And I am still alive, when I
should have died destroying the Portal.

I glance at Logan as he sits there studying me with a strange
look on his face. He is dressed like a lumberjack, not the
elaborate armored uniform he used to wear as the Overlord.
But there is still that barbaric energy cannon that replaces his
left hand. And the lines in his face are more deeply engraved
now than they were before he became Weapon Omega.

Long ago, when he deserted the X-Men early in the battle with
Apocalypse in order to go off with Jean, I had not liked him
very much at all. But I knew he was still carrying on the fight,
in his own way. Later on, we became reconciled, but never
really good friends. He always was a wild card, capable of
flying off into a murderous rage, sometimes without a really
good reason. Not that I myself haven't been known to have a
quick temper, especially when I was a young man. But Logan
was way beyond that, when he went berserk.

However, he was always willing to sacrifice his body to save
others. Well, why shouldn't he? He's almost impossible to kill,
after all. What has he got to lose?

But that was the Logan of many years ago, before he gave
himself up to the Apocalypse Power. Is this still the same
person who would have walked through hell to save those who
could not save themselves, or the man who loved Jean Grey
with all his heart and soul? Or is he broken and defeated,
running from his past and ready to give up on everything, life
included?

I do not truly know. But I do know there is no time to lose.
We can argue for hours, while the continued existence of our
world hangs by a thread. I have very little time to convince
him.

Draining what's left of my cooling coffee, I set the mug on the
floor. I stand, wrapping the quilt tighter around my waist and
walk toward him, one hand outstretched in appeal. "Logan,
you must listen."

He leaps to his feet, backing away, his claws extended on one
hand and the cannon on his other aimed at me, in a defensive
position before the chair he was sitting on has even had time to
fall to the floor.
"Stow it, bub," he growls. "Ya ain't foolin' me fer a second. Ya
only want ta get yer hands on me ta take me back so the others
can tear me apart fer what I did!"

"Nein! It is not like that! You must �"

"Don't even try it. I'll blow a hole through you the instant we
re-appear."

Mein Gott, he thinks I'm trying to teleport him! Belatedly, I
lower my hand and take a step backwards.

"Logan, ve did not know each other very vell even before you
became Veapon Omega, but you vere basically a decent man
back then. I do not believe you have changed so much that you
vill not even try to help Jean now, vhen she is fighting to save
our vorld."

"Maybe this wretched world ain't worth savin' anymore. Maybe
I don't give a flyin' fuck what happens to it."

"So you vill just give up?"

"Yeah. Maybe I will. So what?"

"This is not the man Jean Grey loved," I reply, pouring on the
scorn. "You brought the Apocalypse Power back into our vorld
und now you are the only one who can give us a chance to
survive. You must �"

"Hold on a minute now, Darkholme. What makes you so all-
fired certain I'm necessary? Why don't you just concentrate on
gettin' yourself back to the Big Showdown you claim is
happenin' in New Apocalypse?"

"I � have reason to think you must come vith me. Othervise,
vhy did I find myself here vith you, instead of someplace else?"

"That's a crock of shit and you know it, Darkholme. What's so
important about me anyway?"

"No � I � Scheisse! Even if I told you, you vould not believe
me." I turn my back out of sheer frustration. Is there no way I
can get through to him? Or worse: could I be making a
mistake? Do I really need the help of this vicious and hateful
man who has the blood of millions of innocent people on his
conscience?

A hand touches my shoulder, a hand now without its
adamantium claws. When he speaks, his voice is almost
gentle. "Tell me anyway. Let me be the judge of that."

So I do, giving him every detail about my meeting with Linda.

When I finish, he laughs and shakes his head.

"All right, maybe I imagined it all," I tell him grimly. "But I am
here und alive, despite the odds against it. Und Linda made a
point of telling me that I must first unite und then divide, to
conquer. Given my presence here, who else am I meant to
unite except you und Jean?"

"OK, maybe I believe you. All that stuff you told me about the
Monsters just possibly could be true. As for the rest of it, I
can't judge that. Maybe you're just bat-shit crazy."

"Maybe I am." I pause, fixing him with a stern expression.
"But vhat if I am not?"

He takes a deep breath, then exhales. "Aw right, Darkholme.
You win. Besides, it ain't like I got anything else better to do
right now."

"You vill go vith me then?"

"Yeah. But if you're lyin' about all this, I'm gonna make you
awful sorry."

I shrug off his threat. "For all I know, it may be too late
already. Even teleporting, I can only get us there just so fast."

He gives me a long look.

"Might be a good idea if you put on some clothes first. Clothes
don't really make the man, but you sure won't inspire
confidence in anyone if you show up wrapped in a quilt. I got
some extra stuff you can borrow. Won't fit too well, but better
than what you're wearin' right now."

"Um � ja. I see your point."

"And while you're at it, have some of that venison stew in the
pot hanging over the fire. You probably haven't eaten for quite
a while and you're gonna need your strength if you expect to
port us all the way to New Apocalypse."

"Danke. I vill do that."

Logan goes over to a wooden chest and rummages around,
tossing me various items of clothing as he finds them. When
he selects a pair of trousers, he carefully cuts a hole for my tail
with one of his claws. I find that quite amusing, but dare not
laugh.

While getting dressed, I hastily devour the stew, only now
realizing just how truly hungry I am.

He packs a small duffel bag, tossing in a pair of heavy gloves,
and a very furry hat. Then he adds bottles of water, some kind
of dried meat, and a handful of protein bars.

"Ve are not going on a picnic."

"I know. But I also know you can't port over very long
distances and you get real worn out after a while, so these are
just some snacks for our rest stops."

"There is no time for rest."

"Yeah, tell me that when you pass out from exhaustion. Ya
know how far it is from here to New Apocalypse? Somewhere
around 1,500 miles due south."

I had not really thought about that. Although I do not wish to
admit it, he's right. This is not going to be easy.

"Here, put on this bearskin coat. Do you think you can get
those feet of yours into a pair of my boots?"

"I do not need all this."

"Yeah, ya do. It's cold out there, in case ya haven't noticed."

"My fur �"

"�is so short it's almost not there. It won't help you much,
even if it weren't so cold outside. Just do it."

So I do. The coat is heavy and long, hanging below my knees.
The boots are clumsy and hurt my toes. "I feel ridiculous
dressed up like this."

"Better than feeling frozen solid," he remarks as he pulls on his
own leather jacket. "You ready?"

I nod.

He holds out his hand to me, all the while complaining, "Damn,
I hate this! Azazel could do it much smoother than you ever
could. We just sort of faded in and out."

I push myself hard, porting repeatedly until I have no choice
but to stop for a moment. We are surrounded by snow-covered
mountains, but if I stay on the higher peaks, I can see quite
far, so I can pick out a safe place to land.

Logan, meanwhile, appears a bit pale and unhappy.

"Azazel could also go further than you do," he says. "And it
didn't smell quite the same when he did it."

Although I am annoyed at the comparison, I'm also curious
about it. "I alvays thought it vas the same for both of us, since
ve look very much alike, other than color. In fact, I have often
vondered if he might be my father."

"If he was, he never told me about it."

I stand up. "I am ready. Lass uns gehen."

"If that means let's go, I'm with ya."

After a few more bouts of porting and resting as seldom as I
can, Logan hands me a bottle of water out of his duffel, then
asks, "How exactly does it work when you teleport someone?
Do you have to be touching him with your hands, or just any
part of his body?"

"Any part of me vorks, but I have better control if I am holding
or touching the other person vith my hands, so that is vhat I
normally do." I take a long drink, studying his face and the
wild mane of his hair as I do so. "Vhy?"

"Just tryin' to figure something out, that's all. OK, so just bein'
in physical contact of any kind will allow someone to be
brought along, but it's better if your hands are involved, right?
What if there's something between you and your passenger,
like clothing?"

"Not a problem. I may not be vearing gloves right now, but I
usually am."

"That's what I thought. But those gloves are part of your
uniform and pretty thin. What about thicker fabric?"

"Let us find out." I give him back the bottle. "Wrap your arms
around me. That vill leave my coat und clothing plus your
leather jacket und clothing between us. If it does not vork, I
vill return for you immediately."

Nodding, he reaches around me from behind.

We end up several miles further on, but together.

Before he even lets go of me, he says, "So can you deliberately
refuse to take me along, if I'm holding onto you like this?"

I do, and leave him standing there a few feet away, his arms
encircling only air.

"I must concentrate on detaching you before I port. If you
take me by surprise vhen I am already committed to go, as
McCoy did not so long ago, you vould come vith me."

"Let's try several different ways to hold onto each other on the
next few ports, OK?"

"Vhere are you going vith this?" I ask suspiciously. It is not
like this man to ask questions out of mere curiosity.

He holds up a hand. "Not yet. I'll tell ya later, when I've got
the details straight in my head."

"Very vell. Let us go on."

During our next several runs, we try many variations in
positioning, some more unusual than others, sometimes using
my hands, sometimes not. I have a much more secure feeling
of control when my hands are flat against his chest, even if I do
it while wearing his heavy gloves, but I can do it even without
that, if I must.

With only one exception, everything seems to work, even down
to us just leaning against each other instead of holding on in
any way. However, if either Logan or I am not actually holding
on to his duffel bag securely, rather than simply being in
contact with it, it does not go with us automatically, but only
when I concentrate on taking it.

Of course, I did not expect it to go unless I willed it to, since I
usually do not take along all the inanimate objects that may be
in casual contact with me, like the ground beneath my feet.
It's possible I could take them, if I wished. I may have simply
trained myself not to do that to the point where I now exclude
them automatically.

"So what if you're holding me against you and then someone
else was touching me, but not holding on or being held onto?
Could you port us both?"

"Ja. It is not as easy, but I have done it."

"Guess we can't try that out, with no one else around." He
sounds somewhat discouraged. "Are you real sure you can do
that?"

"I am not bragging, Logan." His persistent curiosity is
beginning to annoy me.

"Not sayin' you are. Just makin' sure. You ready to keep
going?"

In answer, I hold out my hand.

Our next long rest break is high up on a mountain, not too far
from the edge of a cliff. From the angle of the sun, not very
much time has passed, but it feels as if it has. I am tired and
taking longer to recover the longer I keep going. We must
move faster, or it will be too late. Or worse, it may already be
too late.

Logan sits down beside me.

"I know what you're thinkin', Kurt. There's still a long road
ahead." He waves one hand at the wilderness, which spreads
out below and before us as far as we can see, then adds, "That
is, there would be, if there were any roads out here in the first
place, which there ain't."

I nod.

"We can see pretty far from up here, so it should be safe to
port farther than usual. Can you do that?"

Wearily, I shake my head.

"Have you tried? Recently, I mean."

"No, I have not. Not for many years, anyvay."

"Maybe �?"

"Maybe," I agree grudgingly. "But I doubt it."

"C'mon. Finish up that stick of venison jerky and let's see what
happens."

Staring into the distance, I can make out several open areas
ahead of us quite clearly. I pick the most distant one, a bit
beyond my usual range.

Standing up, I extend a hand to Logan. "Fasten your seatbelt.
Ve could be in for a rough flight." I joke, but I am serious. We
could end up dead.

Much to my surprise, it works!

Next time I take us further. And again. And again.

At first, Logan is grinning at our success, but after a little time,
he is no longer even smiling.

"Was ist los? You are looking somevhat green around the gills.
Do you need to rest?"

"Not if you don't. Keep goin'."

He points off to a likely-looking landing place a good distance
beyond our last port. "Can ya get us there?"

I narrow my eyes, imprinting the site on my mind. I do not
allow myself to consider what could happen if I fail.

This time it is not so smooth. I feel a hint of that strange slow
motion time effect that I recall from the Portal. I have no way
to tell if it's real and we are taking longer in transit, or if it's
merely a subjective sensation on my part.

Logan staggers as we land. I must hold tightly to his arm to
keep him upright.

"Whoa!" he gasps. "That felt downright strange! What did ya
do?"

"I � am not sure. How did it seem to you?"

"Horrible! Empty, dark, cold, dead." He shudders. "As if we
might get stuck there. Usually I don't notice that sort of thing.
I don't have time to."

"Ja, exactly how it seemed to me. I did not think you vould be
able to experience anything about that other dimension. But
look vhere ve are. If I can keep on doing this �"

"There's still a limit to how far you can see, even out here."

"Maybe � if I had a memory of vhere I vanted to go, I could go
further. Or if I could somehow see my landing place vhile ve
are in transit, so I could change that place if necessary, even if
not by very much �"

"Or maybe we'd end up inside something big and solid. I don't
think even I could survive that, much less you."

"There is that. Let us first continue to add smaller increments
before ve take such a risk. Eventually ve vill surely find
ourselves close to someplace I have been before."

Three more tries and I have far surpassed what I had always
thought to be my absolute limits. But despite my exhilaration
over my success, I am seriously tired out.

"Rest --," is all I manage to say as I slump to the ground.

Logan collapses next to me.

As I lie flat on my back staring up at the clear blue sky above
us, I wonder how I can be doing this? Did something happen
to me while I was closing the Portal, something that expanded
my ability to teleport?

I do remember once feeling that time-stretching effect in the
distant past, but that was only because Switchback was with
me and she could shift herself back in time for a number of
seconds. Even though it was not under my control, we did
remain in that other dimension long enough for Damask to kill
the Shadow King. If the time could be made longer then,
maybe the same thing could happen again, under the right
circumstances.

Or perhaps, like that young Kurt bringing the Monster back
through the Portal, have I just discovered that I am capable of
more than I ever thought I could do?

That memory of the boy teleporting a Monster just keeps
sticking in my mind, for some reason. If he could bring a
Monster through a Portal, shouldn't that mean I could at least
port a Monster? Of course, he died in the attempt, but that
might have been from the additional strain of taking the
creature through a Portal, and not so much just the teleporting.

But even if I could do that, what help would it be in the long
run? The Portal is closed, so the Monsters would still be here,
in our world. Useless speculation. Am I getting so tired my
mind is wandering?

"Ya ready for the next jump?"

"I am if you are." I try to sound more enthusiastic at the
prospect than Logan does.

Each time now that I push for a longer distance, the time-
stretching effect gets longer and more noticeable. And more
intolerable the longer it lasts. Logan is no longer just green
around the gills. He is nauseated and vomits after each port,
until his stomach is empty and all he can do is gag. During one
excruciatingly long port, he makes the mistake of inhaling
while we are in transit, and we come out of it with him choking
and coughing up blood. Of course, he heals quickly from that,
as with everything else.

"Whatever you do, don't try to breathe in that other
dimension," he gasps as soon as he can talk. "Whatever it is I
sucked in, it's toxic as hell."

"Does it smell like burning sulfur?"

"Yeah. Like when you first strike a match. Same as it smells
when you port, but way stronger."

"It is not called the brimstone dimension for nothing, mein
Freund." Did I just call him my friend? Must have been a slip
of the tongue. "Vhatever atmosphere is there, it must be very
high in sulfur dioxide. I learned long ago to hold my breath
vhile porting. I should have varned you."

"Nah. I shoulda known better. Besides, I've never had time to
even think of breathing when we port, until now. Aw right,
let's try it again."

We go on and on, and still there is only wilderness, mountains,
and snow. Things begin to blur together. I lose track of how
long we have been doing this. When I have the energy, I push
for longer distances, but often I am too exhausted. Our rest
stops become longer.

Once, Logan asks if I can drop someone off in transit.

"You mean halfway through a port, leaving them in that other
dimension?"

"Yeah, that's exactly what I mean. Can you?"

"I have never tried. Until now, there has never been enough
time for me to even think vhile transporting, much less try to
strand someone there."

"We could try �"

I hold up a hand. "Nein! Vhatever that dimension is like, even
you vould not last long there, und I do not know if I could
return to get you even if I vanted to, since I cannot tell vhether
I enter or leave the other dimension in the same location every
time, or at different places."

"Um. Yeah, that could be a problem. But you don't know for
sure that you couldn't leave me there, right?"

"If you put it that vay, then no, I do not know that I cannot."

Another blur of teleporting. If only I could cover even greater
distances! But now the mountains are greener. There are
more trees and less snow. I still must rest, but my recovery
time remains about the same, even as I continue to push
further. Still, there is a limit, since I am dependent on seeing
where I can safely land. Without mountains, or some other
high vantage point, I will not be able to go as far over
unfamiliar territory. And it will get dark before too much
longer, if I am any judge of the angle of the sun in the western
sky. We are traveling almost directly south, so that may give
us slightly more time before it gets dark, but not by much.

I must try harder. In the dark, I will not be able to see very far
at all. We must get to familiar territory before then!

Some time later, we have finally reached the beginnings of
civilization. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say the
endings of our civilization. After many years of war, genocide,
famine, and despair, there is little left of humankind, both
mutant and otherwise. Things had only started to be rebuilt
when the Apocalypse Power resurfaced in Logan and began the
entire process of destruction all over again.

Small towns are now marked only by charred and rotting ruins,
few and far between. Once or twice, we see what could be
scattered groups of people off in the distance, but we avoid
them. We can do nothing for them, nor can they do anything
for us. They will die along with the rest of our world, if the
Monsters take over. The simple fact that it has not yet
happened gives me hope that Jean is still holding her own
against them. Maybe she's stronger than she thought and, like
me, is only just realizing it. If I still believed in a God, I would
pray that is so.

"C'mon, Darkholme. We gotta get movin'. What was that you
said awhile back, 'last us getten'?"

I can almost laugh at that. "Lass uns gehen. Ja."

He smiles weakly in return. If even such a one as Logan is
exhausted, things are bad indeed.

The mountains become lower, but we follow the high places, or
the shores of lakes and rivers, for their greater visibility. Now
and then we land dangerously close to obstacles that could
have killed us.

Then comes a time when I start to land us partially inside a
boulder, and I somehow realize what is going to happen a split
second before it does. Amazingly, with the slow motion time
effect, I have just enough warning to move us a short way
beyond it before we materialize.

"Shit! I thought we were goners! How'd you do that?"

"Ich weiss nicht. I just � did." I am leaning heavily against
him now, shaking with exhaustion and shock as I realize what
happened.

"Can ya do it again?" Logan is almost too cheerful for someone
who just escaped death by mere inches.

"Vait � you knew vhat vas happening?"

"Yeah. I felt this sense of pressure that was almost hard
enough to hurt, then something else that was a lot like the
feeling when you start to port us away." He shakes his head.
"Goodness knows, I've gotten real good at recognizing that
sensation lately. So can you do it again, like I asked?"

"I do not know. But I sure hope so. It vill soon be sunset."

At last we reach the outskirts of what appears to be a city.
There are some lights up ahead, and a few jagged skyscrapers
still stand proudly against the red glow of the setting sun.

"Montreal," Logan says. "Or at least what's left of it. I can
remember a time when it was still a prosperous city. Way
back, before Apocalypse first appeared."

"You are that old?"

"Yeah. Sometimes I wish I wasn't. Too many memories."

He sits studying the city in the distance intently, while I eat the
last protein bar from his bag.

"The airport wasn't very far from that group of lights just
beyond the city and off to the right." He points. "Should be
lots of open ground where the runways used to be. If you
could get us there directly, it would save time finding our way
around or through the city in the dark. Can ya do that?"

"If you are wrong about the location �"

"Yeah, I know. But even if something unexpected is in our
way, you could sidestep it, right?"

"Sidestep?"

"That last minute change of course that ya did earlier on." He
shrugs. "Sounds like a pretty good word to describe it, huh?"

I nod. I am not anxious to do that again, but if it means we can
keep on going long distances safely, it may be worth the risk.
It will not be much longer before I am on familiar territory
along the northeast coast of what was once the United States,
so that should allow me to port even further at times, if I do
not have to see where I am going in order to avoid unknown
obstacles that may not be part of my memory.

But if it goes wrong, and we are killed and Jean loses the battle
what good would it do?

I dismiss such thoughts. Now is the time for action, not
hesitation. If we get there sooner, that could also make the
difference between success and failure.

Of course, I still do not know what I could do to help Jean, if
anything. Maybe my biggest contribution will be simply to get
Logan there, and then it will all be up to him. But what could
he do that the other Logans could not?

Again I hear the whisper of Linda's voice. "Unite."

"Ve vill try your plan, Logan. But be ready for a hard landing."

And it is indeed hard. At the last instant, I must sidestep the
remains of a crashed airplane on the runway, but in doing that,
we end up in mid-air above a deep crater, with me too
disoriented and weak to get us down softly.

Logan has somehow managed to land underneath me,
absorbing some of the worst shock of the fall. The breath is
knocked out of my lungs, but I sustain no other damage. As
usual, he recovers quickly.

And we go on. Sometimes it is just line of sight, while other
times I rely on long past memories. I am getting better at
sidestepping each time I do it, but it is still very tiring.

It is full dark by now, so we must slow down. Even with my
excellent night vision and the pale light of the waning moon,
there is only just so far that I can see safely enough to do a
normal port, much less an extended one.

Finally, we are getting close. The moon sets while we move
down the Hudson River valley, depriving me even of its small
ration of light. As we draw nearer to New Apocalypse, we can
begin to see the fierce energy display going on over the distant
city. With luck, that means Jean is still alive and fighting.

"Guess you told me the truth about the situation," Logan
remarks, almost grudgingly.

I nod. "If you have any bright ideas for vhat ve can do to help,
speak up. The best I can think of is for me to port those
Monsters one at a time as far avay as I can from Jean, in the
hopes that she vill be able to destroy them if she can deal vith
them one on one. If you have a better plan, now is the time to
let me in on it."

Instead, he asks a question.

"Ya told me just being close to the Monsters was enough to
nearly kill those other Logans, didn't ya?"

I nod.

"So even if you could port them, you'd have to get close
enough to touch them, right?'

I nod again.

"How do you think you're gonna do that, if you get fried in the
process?"

"I have to admit I have not thought that far ahead."

"How about if you took me with you, and kept most of your
body behind me? Then I touch the Monster. Would that
work?"

"It should. But you �"

He dismisses that with a wave of his hand. "I would heal."

"You vould need time to recover."

"Unless I miss my guess, so would you, if you were doin' such
fancy teleportin'. Would be better than fryin' your blue ass on
the first try, wouldn't it? Here, let's see how we could arrange
this."

He stands up. "Hop onto my back and hang on. See how much
of your body you can get behind me."

Somewhat uncomfortably, I do as he asks. He is not as tall as I
am, but he is much wider and more heavily built, while I am
extremely flexible and can curl myself into a very small space if
I need to.

"Nah, that won't work. Your hands and arms can't be around in
front of me or they'd get fried pretty quick."

I jump down.

"Let's try me grabbing you from the back. I'd rather be
slammed into the Monster on my back than face forward
anyway, since we've already established that I don't have to
touch it with my hands. Turn around and let's try."

As we get into this position, I recall for a brief instant that
other Logan, his arms wrapped around me like this, our naked
bodies touching, ignited by lust. But the hard feel of this
Logan's hand cannon pressing against my chest snaps the link.
This is here, and now. I will never see that other Logan again.
I dismiss all thoughts of him, concentrating on curling up
tightly and hiding as much of myself in the imagined shadow of
the man behind me.

"Yeah, this should work." He peers over my shoulder, to see
how well shielded I am. "Umm, no, maybe not. Leaves your
face kind of exposed, doesn't it? Not to mention the front of
your body, no matter how well you try to cover up."

"Let's try facing each other," he suggests, as he lets me go.

Even more uncomfortable now, I stand before him. We look
into each other's eyes.

"C'mon. See if you can burrow your face hard against me,
along with your arms and legs and tail."

As his arms close around me, it feels all too nice. It is like
being a child curled up in the strong arms of his father, as he
can carry my weight easily. Or of a lover holding his beloved.
No. Forget that. He is Jean's, not mine. Not ever mine.

And why would I want him anyway?

"Yeah, this works. Whaddya think?"

"It � vorks fine."

Almost reluctantly, I get down.

"So we could at least give Jeannie a chance at victory by
spreading out her opponents."

"Ja. Probably. But that vould only delay their victory, as they
vould find their vay back sooner or later, or simply begin eating
the energy of our universe from vherever ve landed them."

"Remember I asked ya if you could detach one of your
passengers in mid-flight, so to speak?"

"Mein Gott, you think ve could do that?!"

"Why not?"

"Vhat if I can't?"

He shrugs. "Then we're no worse off than we were before, and
we go back to your Plan A."

"Vhich depends on Jean being able to kill them, at some point."

"Yeah. But you said we had to unite, then divide, right? Either
way, we'd at least be doing the dividing. And if it doesn't work,
we haven't lost anything by trying, have we? Given what
you've told me, this world is living on borrowed time as it is."

I think this over, looking for flaws in his plan.

"Vhat if ve drop off the first Monster in flight, as you described
it, und then ve do it again, only to find the first one right there
vhere ve left him, ready to ambush us?"

"Then I guess we're toast. Ya got any better ideas?"

"I do not, but I vish I did."

"Yeah, so do I," he admits. "I know we're graspin' at straws
here. This is a long shot. But sometimes a long shot can hit its
target. 'Course, it could also be possible that Jeannie can't kill
them, even one on one."

"You know the Apocalypse Power better than I do. Vhat do you
think? Could you have done it?"

"Dunno. Never ran across these Monsters of yours, so I never
had to try. But perhaps if it restored her telekinetic ability and
telepathy, and also strengthened them --" He shrugs.

"Lass uns gehen," is my only reply.

Logan fixes me with a grin as he takes my hand. "Jawohl, mein
Herr."

At last, we are at the outskirts of New Apocalypse. The moon
has long since set and it would be pitch dark here, if not for the
ongoing battle.

Logan stares at the blazing energies in play ahead of us. I can
read the curses falling from his lips, although I can barely hear
them over the surrounding noise.

The sky ahead is on fire. Explosions shake the earth. It is
amazing that any buildings are standing at all, in the midst of
this holocaust. But no more Monsters fall from the skies, for
there is no longer a Portal for them to come through.

A fierce smile stretches my lips at the sight of what I have
accomplished. There is no way to know what has become of
the Monsters that were still in transit. They may be dead or
simply trapped between worlds. In either case, they are no
longer our problem.

Focusing on what looks like a relatively safe destination within
the surrounding chaos, I take hold of Logan and port us onto
the battleground.

The sky above us blazes like an insane titanic sunset, but most
of the destruction seems to be happening up in the air, so that
the surface of the city has been spared as much as possible.

Amidst the raging chaos, I pick out Jean's silhouette with
difficulty. Yes, she lives! We are not too late!

A fireball explodes with an awful glare of fierce pink light.
Logan grabs my arm.

"Kurt, did you see that?! She hit one of them pretty hard!
Knocked it out of action for a while, at least."

"Are you sure? The light was too intense for me to make out
any details."

"I'm pretty sure of what I saw."

"I did not think she vas that powerful."

"Never underestimate the Apocalypse Power. If she can learn
how to use it to its full effect �-" His voice trails off, then he
continues softly, "Oh, Jeannie, Jeannie, you never should have
taken it away from me. It should be me up there fighting for
our world, not you."

The wistful expression on his face hardens into something
terrible to see, as he strips off his leather jacket and hands it to
me, "Put that on under your coat, for added protection!"

"Nein, Logan! You �"

"I'll be fine! Just do it! We gotta get this show on the road
before she gets too weak to fight anymore!"

He takes the heavy work gloves and the furry hat out of his
duffel bag and tosses them to me. "Put 'em on."

I comply without further argument, knowing he is right.

"All I vill do the first time is try to port one of them off to a
distance."

"Trial run, huh?"

"Ja. If ve cannot do that, ve surely cannot drop them off in
transit."

He braces himself and holds out his arms. "OK, hop on."

I do. He wraps me in his arms, while I keep as much of myself
in front of him and scrunch up into a tight knot inside my heavy
clothes, the palms of my gloved hands flat against his chest.

"Ya forgot yer tail, Darkholme. And don't wrap it around me,
unless ya want it to get fried."

"Danke." I curl it into a tight spiral between our bodies.

"Take us in, buddy. Let's do this," he says grimly.

I say nothing, but I can feel an insane smile stretch across my
face.

I peek briefly over his shoulder, choose my target, and go.

End Part Two

German Translations

Verdammt! Damn!

Mein Gott My God

Scheisse Shit

Danke Thanks

Lass uns gehen Let's go

Was ist los? What's wrong?

mein Freund my friend

Ich weiss nicht I don't know

Jawohl, mein Herr! Yes indeed, sir!

THE ONLY THING

CHAPTER THREE: "Then Divide"

My eyes closed, my face buried against Logan's chest, we land
with his back against the Monster. Searing heat engulfs me,
but I port again before it can do much damage. We appear as I
have planned, a short distance away but high up in the sky.
Logan kicks us clear of our unwilling passenger and I bring us
back to where we started.

My clothing is singed, while Logan's shirt hangs in smoking
shreds across the burns on his back, but he is already healing.

"It works," he says. "Do it for real this time."

Together we grab another Monster. In the dark desolation of
the brimstone dimension, I struggle to simultaneously release
the creature and keep Logan with me as I try to return to our
world.

For a sickening instant, my grip on him threatens to slip. He
feels it too, for his arms lock tighter around me. Desperate
now, I allow my utter revulsion for the Monster to rampage
through my head, at the same time concentrating hard on
keeping Logan with me. It is almost enough, but not quite. He
is slipping away.

A sudden memory floods my mind:
I am weak and staggering, almost ready to collapse from the
strain of going back and forth through the Portal. My fragile
confidence is shredding quickly, when I hear that other Logan's
voice.
"No time for rest, Elf. You just get my people back and we're
square."
He called me Elf. I know then that he understands, even if
imperfectly, how much I truly care for him. That knowledge
strengthens my determination to succeed, no matter what. My
world might not survive, but his will. If nothing else, I can give
him that.
Hope fills my heart and I gain new strength just to know I have
been forgiven by this man who means so much to me.

The next thing I know, we are back where we started, minus
one Monster. Logan is still clutching me to his chest as he
stumbles and falls to his knees. Another man would have been
screaming with the pain of his hideous burns, but he has
known too much of pain to even bother.

We kneel together, my arms now around him and supporting
him as his body heals. The entire back of his clothing is gone,
incinerated in that last exposure to the Monster. Only the front
part remains intact, while the bearskin coat that protects me is
hardly damaged at all.

A puzzled look washes over his face. The back of his head and
body is still raw and bloody, so the effect is nauseating. He
takes a shaky breath and says, "Elf?"

Ach du Scheisse! Did he somehow share that memory?

"Vas?"

"He called you Elf."

"How do you know that?"

He shakes his head. "Dunno. It was sort of like a memory
running through my head, just before you brought us back."

"But you are not a telepath."

"No. But I've spent a big part of my life with Jean, and a lot of
that time we'd have this sort of telepathic link to each other.
Sometimes I would pick up on other people's thoughts, if I was
in mental contact with her. Especially in dangerous situations
or unusual emotional circumstances."

"Telepathy is a mutant ability. It is not something you can
catch from someone else."

"So maybe I only have a sort of receive-only bit of telepathy
that was only activated by exposure to Jean."

"Can you control it?"

"Whatsamatter? Ya don't like me eavesdroppin' on yer
memories?" He laughs as I glare at him. "I don't think so. I
wouldn't even know how to try. Maybe that weird time-
stretching bit while you're teleporting is setting it off."

"Then it may happen each time we strand a Monster?" I ask,
appalled at the thought.

He shrugs. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"I do not vant you inside my head!"

"Hey, I don't wanna be there." He is silent for a few moments.

Turning away from me, he glances up at the embattled sky.
"Ya almost lost me, didn't ya?"

"Ja."

"It was that memory that saved me, even though it was of
someone else."

"Ja," I admit reluctantly. Will he now be afraid to try it again?
Or has this torn apart what little trust has been established
between us?

"Logan �" I begin.

"Don't even think it. This battle has just begun." His eyes
meet mine. "I don't care how you do it, just don't lose me. For
Jeannie's sake."

"I vould not intentionally strand you."

"I know that, Elf. And I'm willin' to trust you on that, because
it may be the only chance for our world's existence."

I say the only thing that comes to mind. "I am not an elf."

His lips quirk into a teasing smile. "Seems to me I called you
that a few times myself, long ago."

"Ja. I did not like it then und I do not like it now."

"That ain't what your memory said. Or is it just that you only
liked it from him?"

I cannot be sure what he intends to imply, if anything. "It
meant something different that last time."

"Different how?"

"It is hard to explain."

"Try me."

"At first, he did it out of habit, since that's vhat he called my
doppelg�nger in his vorld. His Nightcrawler vas dead, und I
looked so much like him �"

"Yeah. I can see that. And you maybe didn't like that very
much, huh?"

"I did not. At first, I think he only did it to annoy me. Later on,
ve got to know each other better, und he tried to stop, but
forgot sometimes."

"So that last time, before you closed the Portal?"

"To me, it meant that he had forgiven me und ve vere friends
again."

He does not ask what I had done that required forgiveness.
Instead, he nods briefly then stands up, shrugging his
shoulders and stretching his arms, wincing slightly as he tests
his now healed body. With a wicked grin, he holds out his
arms. "Assume the position, bub! Let's go get us another
one."

Again, the same sensation when I try to dump the Monster. I
call up the memory again. The stern look on that other Logan's
face, the sound of his voice. His offer of forgiveness.

It works. And it works several more times, but the effect is
weakening. I can feel it, and so can Logan.

The next time we try, that memory doesn't work. As I feel him
slipping away, another memory surfaces:
I can barely stand up, but I stagger over to Logan. His
forearms under mine, as he helps me up from the ground.
My hasty words to him, as he stares into my eyes, his lips
slightly parted: "But know that I am truly sorry for betraying
you." I want to tell him far more, but there is no time. I think
I see something in his eyes, but I am not sure what it is. Then
the way he says my name, barely heard before I must go back
for another passenger.

And this is enough to keep this other Logan with me, as we
return to our world.

Together, we rest while he heals and I gather my strength for
another attempt.

"I'm seein' a pattern here, Darkholme. You gotta think good
thoughts about my alter ego just in order to keep ahold of me.
And when the original memory is repeated over and over, the
effect weakens and you've gotta come up with another one."

"That vould appear to be the case."

"So my � what'd you call it? � doppelg�nger must have meant a
lot to you, since just me by myself ain't of enough value to
override the rejection that lets you disengage from one
passenger but still hang onto another. Am I callin' that right?"

"Ja. I'm sorry �"

"Don't be. You and I, we've got some pretty bad stuff between
us, so it's not surprising. What is surprising is that it works at
all. Maybe I'm just lucky you have such good feelings for my
double."

I start to object, but he holds up a hand to stop me.

"Darkholme, I don't give a flyin' fuck if ya hate my guts. All I
care about is us bein' able to eliminate these Monsters. So you
go right on thinkin' sweetness and light about my alter ego, if
that's what it takes. Ya got that?"

"Ja, I got it. Let us see how much mileage ve can get out of
this one, okay?"

But before we can begin our next run, a very welcome voice
sounds inside my head.

*Logan! Kurt! Welcome to the fight! If only I could kill these
creatures, instead of just keeping them busy, but they're too
many and too strong.*

I hear Logan through the telepathic link as he replies, *Keep it
up, Punkin! You've got the power. Practice it. Use it.
Meanwhile, we'll whittle 'em down a bit for ya!*

*Do it, my love!!*

There's a huge grin on his face. "She's got her telepathy back
again."

"Ja. I noticed." Unless I am badly mistaken, a big part of that
grin comes from her last remark to him.

"C'mon, buddy. Let's go kill us some more o' those critters."

He sounds positively jubilant. Good! Neither one of us can
afford to give up hope now.

When the memory I am using wears out, another replaces it
almost without my willing it to happen:
The smell of the cigar Logan was smoking as I got out of his
shower and walked into his bedroom. The conversation we had
about the book he was reading, which turned into a discussion
about how we were both not the same as our other world
counterparts.
He narrows his eyes a bit, as he takes in the underlying
implications of my remark. "Point taken, Elf."
"Damn it, don't call me that!"
"I'm sorry, Darkholme. It's just that everyone used to call you
that �"
"Nein! Not me!"
"Aw shit! I know you ain't him. What with that red lightnin'
bolt across your eye, it would be impossible to get you mixed
up with him even if I wanted to. I keep tryin' to remember not
to call you Elf, but it was such a habit."

"You were in his bedroom?"

"Using his shower, since mine did not vork."

"Oh-Kay. If you say so."

"I say so." Sharing these memories with this man who was
once my enemy as Weapon Omega is hateful to me, but I
remind myself that it is necessary.

A few more runs, a few less Monsters. But there are still far
too many left.

I scoop up a few precious mouthfuls of water from a puddle, as
Logan sits staring at the pyrotechnics above us, his eyes
narrowed as he concentrates on something. His back is almost
healed, but it seems to be taking longer than usual.

"Ready?" I ask.

"Gimme a minute. I want to watch Jeannie's fighting style."

"Ve do not have a minute."

"Yeah, we do. I wanna see what she's doin'. Maybe there's a better way. Besides you need to
rest. That last port was pretty sloppy."

He is right. I do need more time to regain my energy. More
water would help also. Between the heavy coats I am wearing
and the exertion of so much porting, my clothing is soaked with
sweat.

In a few minutes, he seems satisfied and we return to the
battle.

I am pushing myself too hard, and I know it. The last memory
wears thin. I feel myself losing my grip on Logan as we dump
another Monster. My weary brain searches for another memory
to use, but I draw a blank. It's too hard to sort them out, to
keep the most damning ones hidden. I cannot do this! But I
must.

That first time between me and Logan, when I demand that I
fuck him instead of what he had intended. It is almost more
rape than anything else, but it is what I want and need at that
moment. I am so full of anger and hatred, and I take it out on
his willing body. He responds by giving me a wonderful
massage, until I am relaxed and ready to accept him into me in
return, gently, carefully, as if he knows precisely what would
give me the most pleasure. He probably did know, from what
he had long experienced with my doppelg�nger.

Of course, it works. Unexpectedly, Logan says nothing about
what just happened as we recuperate. Nor does he say
anything more during the next few runs.

The fur is nearly all burned off my coat by now. My face,
although pressed as closely against Logan's chest as I can get
it, feels as if it is sunburned. How long will it take before that
atmosphere surrounding the Monsters burns me too badly to
continue?

That new memory begins to wear thin in its turn, and I know
Logan feels it just as I do. As we prepare for another port, I
can tell only too well what he is thinking by the strange look on
his face.

"So you and him were --?"

I resist the urge to look down and shake my head. Instead, I
meet his eyes square on and say only, "Ja."

He nods his head. "Okay then, let's go get ourselves another
victim, shall we?"

"I may have to use more of those memories in order to hold
onto you," I warn him.

"Do anything you have to. I've seen a hell of a lot of things in
my life, so whatever you and my double may have done, it
don't bother me at all."

The next memory is even worse:
Logan holding me from behind, jerking me off with one hand
while Wade Wilson watches us both. Why is it so easy for me
to let him do this? And yet some part of me wants to yield to
his will, gladly assenting to whatever he chooses to do.
Wade Wilson kneels before me and takes my cum in his face.

"Was that Dead Man Wade?" Logan asks.

"Ja. In that other vorld, he still lives."

"And all that really happened?"

"Ja." There is nothing more for me to say. I can hardly deny it.

"Damn, that looked like somethin' in a porn flick! Real hot,
buddy."

He claps me on the back. I almost fall over from sheer
surprise.

As time goes on, I become exhausted and must rest for longer
periods of time, but Logan does not admonish me. I watch him
heal more slowly now. He tries to hide the agony from me, but
I can see it in his drawn face and stiff body. How much longer
can he last? How much longer can I last? My face burns, the
fur long since gone, while my legs, even tucked up beneath the
coat, are already hurting as my borrowed trousers are slowly
being eaten away. Fortunately, the heavy boots on my feet are
still in good condition.

"Darkholme, yer eyes look strange," Logan says to me. "They
ain't glowing that bright red anymore. They're lookin' kinda
silvery and pale."

"It's nothing. I'm just tired." But I know that is a lie. I am far
more than tired. Slowly but steadily, I feel my strength
draining away. Eventually, I may not be able to get us back
here, and we will die together in that other dimension. But not
before we take many more Monsters with us.

I do not bother to admit this to Logan. I know it would not
stop him anyway.

"Lass uns wieder gehen, mein Freund."
And again:
That beautiful translucent cobalt blue glass dildo, larger than I
am accustomed to, that Logan wanted so badly to use on me.
And I suddenly understood why: he had used it on his Kurt. The
way he almost reverently prepares me and makes me ready
before inserting it into me. The incredible pleasure that goes
on for so long.

Logan is still burned red and raw when he exclaims, "That one
was pretty damn hot also!"

I glance down to his naked groin. Even though his scrotum is
half-gone and still leaks blood and fluid at the back, his
scorched cock is standing up hard. "So I see."

He gives me one of his feral grins. "Whaddya want from me,
buddy? If you're gonna run porn movies in my head, no way
can I not react."

And I realize in dismay that I am hard myself, and I could
desire this man, given half a chance. Fortunately, my erection
is well hidden beneath my layers of protective clothing.

We go on.

Again, this time with heart-wrenching emotion, as I recall:

I hear that other Logan saying "Is it OK if I call you Kurt, as
long as I don't call you Elf?" And then our bodies clasped
tightly together and my lips against his, in a long drawn out
kiss that somehow says more even than the sex that had
preceded it.
And finally I know that he really sees me for myself, not just as
a stand-in for Kurt Wagner.

Logan lies huddled on the ground, enduring the pain as he
slowly heals. I am crouching next to him, trying not to fall over
on top of him despite the lightheadedness that weakens me.

"Ya really cared about him, didn't ya?" he says through oozing
lips. "It wasn't just the sex."

"Ja. I did."

"Never heard anything about you liking men before this."

"I � had not thought of such a thing, until I met him."

"I guess my double was a nicer guy than I am, huh?"

I do not know how to answer without insulting him.

He puts a hand on my knee. "It's okay, Darkholme. I know
what I am and what I've done. I don't blame ya none."

Somewhere deep inside, I want to protest. I want to tell him
he is not a monster. I want to wrap my arms around that raw
and bleeding body and try to ease his pain. But I know that
cannot be done, just as I know I would not be satisfied with
simply holding him.

Verdammt nochmal! There is no time for this!

His tortured face turns up towards the heavens, his eyes
following Jean's silhouette.

"You still love her, don't you?" I ask, following his gaze.

He answers dully, "I released her from any obligation to me."

"By that I assume you no longer consider her your vife."

He nods, his lips set in a tight line. At least those lips are now
whole.

"But that vas not my question. Do you still love her?"

"I loved her then, and I love her now. That ain't never gonna
change." Getting to his feet, he reaches down a hand to me.
"Let's go get us some more Monsters."
I run through so many memories that I feel a part of my mind
lies painfully naked before Logan. There is one memory that I
try to hide, but in the end I must use that one also.

I hear my own voice, heartless, implacable. "I'm sorry, mein
Freund. I did tell you I vould finish vhat I came here to do. I
vill have my revenge by any means."
Logan lying before me, poisoned, helpless before his enemies,
struggling just to say my name. It tears my heart out just to
think of it.

But I must. Over and over and over, or lose this Logan into
desolation, and with him, all chances of saving our world.

Logan says nothing. It is all he can do to hold himself together
while he recovers, horribly, slowly, and painfully. I hurt worse
now, but I do not heal as he does. I wonder which of us will
succumb first.

We keep going.

Perhaps because death is on my mind now, I recall my meeting
with that other Nightcrawler, after I had turned Logan over to
his enemies and almost died myself. The spirit of Kurt Wagner
accused me of what I had done, while my Linda watched:
"They vere your teammates and �" I glare fiercely at him,
wanting to stop him from saying the next words, but he ignores
me "� your lovers." His lips, so like mine, quirk into a smile.
"Vhat is the matter? Do you think she does not know?" He
turns to her for an answer. "Linda?"
"I would not have wanted it otherwise. The dead are not
jealous. Take love wherever it can be found, for it's the most
precious thing in the world. And give love wherever and
however it may be offered to you."
It hurts too much to hear her words. I hang my head and close
my burning eyes as she continues. "Yet you left them to die,
along with that poor confused boy. Do you call that honor?"

I am so overcome with shame and sorrow that I curl into a ball
on the hard ground as soon as Logan lets go of me.

Logan drags himself over, leaving his blood in the dirt behind
him. He pulls me into his arms, which are barely more than
muscle over bone. His voice is distorted and hard to
understand. I cannot bear to look at his face.

"C'mon, buddy. S'okay. I know what happened to yer wife.
Can't blame ya for goin' after the Blob. Anybody did that to
Jeannie, I'd've sold my soul real cheap just to get a crack at
him."

For a few brief moments, I cry in his arms.

Then we gather ourselves together and go on. Over and over, I
must recall that confrontation and my shameful betrayal of
those who trusted and counted on me, until I feel that I can
bear it no longer.

At last, Logan turns to me, barely healed. By now, I must force
myself to look at his body, like roasted meat, eerily reforming
itself before my eyes.

"We're not gonna be able to do it on our own, Darkholme.
There are still too many of those critters left, and we're both
damn near used up."

"Nein," I try to object, even though I know he speaks the truth
for both of us.

He holds up a hand to silence me. "Hear me out. You and me,
we gotta contact Jeannie. I been watchin' her, and I got an
idea."

"Vhat?"

"Haven't got the strength to explain it twice. Let's just try to
attract her attention, concentrate our minds on her."

"Ve are not telepaths."

"We used to have a link, Jeannie and I. Maybe we still do.
After all, she knew we were here, didn't she? Maybe some part
of her mind is still paying attention to us." He lies back on the
ground, raw flesh pressed into the dirt. "Give it a try." He
reaches out a hand. "Help me, willya?"

I lie beside him and take his hand, focusing my weary brain on
thoughts of Jean Grey, my dear friend for so many long years.

*Logan?*

*Yeah, darlin'. Listen ta me now. Yer tryin' ta fight them all at
once and ya don't have the strength ta do that. Looks like
maybe nine of them left, but we're about done in and won't be
able ta help ya much longer. Try to focus in on them one at a
time, usin' your telepathy if ya can to paralyze or confuse them,
so ya can hit him with everything ya got.*

*The others --*

*Do it quick, then go on the defensive until yer ready to hit
another one. You've got the Apocalypse Power, Jeannie. Don't
hold back! Use it to its fullest!*

There is fear in her answer. *I won't be able to control --*

She has been distracted by us. A fierce burst of energy engulfs
her as the Monsters take advantage of the moment to attack.
She is frozen in place. For a heart-stopping second, I think she
has been killed.

"C'mon, Darkholme! We've gotta get their focus on us!" He
grabs me. "Go! Go! Go!"

Once more, we enter the battle. I have no strength left in my
body, but I force us into contact with another Monster by sheer
willpower, then release it into that other dimension. There are
no memories left, or if there are, my reeling brain cannot find
them. I fight to hold onto Logan, to port us once again to
safety, but there is nothing there for me to draw upon. I will
not leave him! I will not!

Desperate now, I whip my tail around his waist. I will not
betray a friend again. If we must die here together, so be it.

And Linda stands before me, glowing like a star in the
surrounding darkness. She wraps her arms around me, telling
me again what she once told me in a vision. "Know that you
have not disappointed us. Not any of us."
That other Kurt stands beside us this time, as he did not before,
but I am focussed on Linda.
"I vill fight no longer for revenge, my darling, but for the
continued existence of our vorld," I say as I had said before. "I
svear this to you by our love."
Kurt Wagner pushes back the hood of his white robe, and I can
see tears of joy in his glowing eyes as he reaches out to place
his hands on my shoulders. "Go," he says softly.

And I am plucked out of that cold, dead emptiness to land
again in my world. And Logan is there beside me, my tail still
firmly around him. We both collapse to the ground, each trying
to recover in our own way.

"Holy fuckin' shit, Darkholme!" he finally gasps. "I thought we
were both goners. Was that --?"

"Ja, that vas him."

"Ya know, I think I just might envy that other me."

"Logan, I do not think ve can take on any more Monsters. I
cannot �"

"I can see that, buddy. Yer eyes ain't even shinin'. They're
just kinda dull-lookin'. Guess it's up ta Jeannie now."

I nod and lie my head back down, fighting waves of dizziness
and weakness. I have no idea how much time has passed since
we began fighting the Monsters. It could as easily be the same
night or the following day, for all I can see of the sky beyond
the battle. My overcoat has worn entirely through in places,
leaving only Logan's leather jacket to protect me. Wisps of
smoke rise from my boots. My tail shows raw burned areas.
But compared to Logan's injuries, I am almost unscathed.

He is sprawled out next to me, his body still trying to heal, but
it is slow and must be excruciatingly painful.

"Mein Freund, how can you bear to do this over und over?"

"I got a lot to make up for, Darkholme," he whispers brokenly.
"A hell of a lot."

Helpless now, we watch the battle. With much effort, Jean
takes out another Monster, but the others hit her so hard that
she plunges down to the ground. Logan groans, while I hardly
dare to hope that she will rise again.

By the time she does, the others are gathered in a group,
raising an awful blackish-purple cone of energy between them.

"Darkholme, can we port a couple of them away, just far
enough to break up what they're doing?"

I want to tell him no, but his still-ravaged body and his
desperate courage rebuke me. "Ve can try."

He reaches out and draws me once more against his chest.

"Two of them, one from each side of that circle, fast, before
they can complete what they're doing."

I nod my understanding. In just seconds, we have done what
he said. I have no trouble holding onto Logan while releasing
each Monster a mile out over the ocean, since this is just
normal teleporting.

Their attempt to raise energy backfires as we do this. Instead
of growing, the cone implodes, stunning the Monsters
themselves for a precious moment and allowing Jean to
destroy two more of them, even as the two that we had thrown
out to sea come flying back.

But Logan is in no shape to notice what we have accomplished.
He lies unconscious beside me, his face in the mud. His
clothing has long ago burned away. The back of his body is all
raw meat and glistening bone. Through the exposed ribs, I can
see his heart beating, his lungs straining for breath. Surely, he
cannot survive any more of this.

My own clothing hangs in shreds around my scorched and
hurting body. I want nothing more than to crawl underneath a
rock and die. But I gather my strength and pull Logan over
onto his back, clumsily wiping the mud from his face so he can
breathe. Even the relatively undamaged front of his body is
naked now, as the few remaining pieces of fabric have fallen
off. I cannot bear to look at him. It is too gruesome.

Instead, I turn my face up into the sky, searching for Jean.
Miraculously, she blazes even brighter than before, her power
intensifying until I dare no longer look directly at her as she
attacks the Monsters like a demon out of hell. I seem to hear
her voice reverberating in my head, or perhaps it is just her
thoughts being broadcast unconsciously.

"Die! Die! You beasts, you vile things, you soulless creatures!
Feel my hatred! Feel my joy in your destruction! Feel me
feeding on your pain, draining away your power and your lives!
Yes! Yes, I am triumphant! I am the Power and the Glory! I
am the Strength that defeats all weakness! I! Me!
Apocalypse!!"

"NOOO!" I scream, but my voice is drowned in the tumult
above us.

A flash of pain severs my mind from hers. For a moment, I
black out. As my consciousness returns, I hear Logan's voice, a
barely understandable harsh croak. "We're winning, buddy.
She's taking down the last one of those Monsters."

My head feels as if I've been hit with an axe. I open my eyes,
and see a ghastly grin of triumph on his face, despite the still
raw open wounds now out of sight in the mud beneath him.

But he did not hear her thoughts as I did. I must warn him,
even though I hate what I must say. "Nein, Logan. There is
still one more Monster left."

"What d'ya mean?" he whispers, trying to sit up but lacking the
strength to do it.

"She has the Power. You know vhat that does to someone. She
is not the same Jean Grey ve knew. She is the new
Apocalypse."

"No! Impossible! You don't know what yer sayin'!" He pushes
himself up onto his elbows, glaring at me from eyes so
bloodshot that they appear red.

I point up at Jean as she destroys her last opponent in a blaze
of energy. Darkness boils around her, burning as if with the
fires of hell. She is directly above us now, and I can see her
clearly, the power still flowing from her eyes and hands, the
distorted grimace of kill-lust on her face, her mouth misshapen
and contorted in the manner of the original Apocalypse. An
aura of combined hatred and triumph surrounds her like an
almost palpable cloak.

"Look at her," I croak wretchedly. "Then tell me I am wrong."

He looks.

His head slumps forward as the realization sinks in. He turns
his ruined face away, as if he cannot bear this final crushing
blow. "Aw, no. Jeannie, no. Not you."

END Part Three

German Translations

Ach du Scheisse! Oh shit!

Lass uns wieder gehen, mein Freund
Let's go again, my friend

Verdammt nochmal! Damn! (intensified)

Part Four: "To Conquer"

A few minutes later, Logan is finally able to sit up, with my
assistance. He is almost whole again, while I am a mass of
singed fur, purplish burns, mud, and filthy rags. As I struggle
to stand up, I kick off the remains of the boots that had
confined my feet, finally able to stretch my toes out fully. I
pluck away the last clinging bits of my shredded clothing,
preferring to be entirely naked, like Logan.

Jean appears to be scouting the entire area, making certain
there are no more creatures alive anywhere. Satisfied, she
comes down in front of us. The rippling curtains of energy that
surround her shimmer as she laughs in triumph. She flings her
arms up, as if to take possession of the entire universe. Like a
pot boiling over, her telepathy overflows into our heads,
surging with hateful images that devastate my mind.

"I did it! The world is mine! My Power won the day, as it
always has and always will! It is mine! All mine!"

"No," I moan, falling to my knees beneath the onslaught of
such emotions. I am helpless. It takes all of my strength just
to breathe.

"I did this! I myself!" And then, once again. "I am
Apocalypse!"

"No, ya ain't, darlin'."

Logan is on his feet, stumbling toward her.

She stares at him, eyes flashing red anger. She could
obliterate him in an instant. Surely, he must realize that.

"You dare �" she begins.

Logan stops her words with a backhanded blow across her
face, knocking her backwards a few steps. "This ain't you,
Jeannie. Stop this. Now."

For a terrible moment, the fate of our world hangs in the
balance as they confront each other.

Then a change comes over her face. Not much. Just a small
flicker of recognition, or maybe doubt. But it is enough to
encourage Logan.

"First off, ya didn't do it all yerself. Kurt and me, we helped ya
out. You don't wanna be Apocalypse, Punkin. You spent most
of your life fighting him. Don't quit now."

Her distorted lips tighten into a black line, and her eyebrows
lower dangerously. For some reason, it reminds me of the
expression of a pouting child.

"The hell with you," she says flatly, then turns and strides
rapidly away.

Logan is having none of that. He runs after her, catches an arm
and swings her around to face him. I am not close enough to
make out all the words, but it's very clear that they are
arguing. Surely, she will soon tire of this and destroy him, and
possibly me also, with a brief blast of the destructive power
she now holds.

I am too exhausted to care. Let it end here, if it must. I have
done what I was sent to do. "Linda," I think to myself, "I'm �"

"Excuse me, but are you the one called Nightcrawler?"

My train of thought entirely disrupted, I can only blink and
stammer, "Vas?"

I look around and find a small man dressed in a bright green
outfit, with gold-colored gloves. The hood covers most of his
upper face, leaving his nose and mouth visible. His nose
appears to have been broken, perhaps more than once.
Something about him seems familiar, but I cannot place him
immediately. Other than what looks like a communications
device, he is unarmed and seems harmless enough.

"I am Kurt Darkholme. Vhy do you ask?"

"I have to talk to her." He points to Jean. "But she seems to
be busy right now with the ex-Overlord."

"You vant to talk vith her?" I ask stupidly, still puzzled. "Vhy?"

"I'm an agent of Hydra. You know, the human undercover
resistance group?"

I nod. I have heard the name, but it is a very small group
surrounded mostly by rumors rather than actions. Part of my
attention is still on Logan and Jean, but this newcomer will not
leave me alone. As I try to turn away, he grabs my hand.

"When Bolivar Trask and Dr. Moreau lost contact with Prophet,
they contacted every group they could reach to find out if there
was an agent in New Apocalypse who could tell them what's
going on. Hydra is the only one who did. So here I am."

A memory clicks into place. The train station in that other
world where we caught up with Wade Wilson. The little man
who was with him. Wade, facing certain death, did not ask
Logan to show him mercy, but only asked for a delay in order
that he might safeguard the life of his friend.

"Vhat is your name?"

"Bob."

"Vere you ever a friend of Vade Vilson?"

"Uh � yes. But how did you know?"

"In another vorld, I met you briefly, und you vere vith him."

"I � knew him as Dead Man Wade," he finally says, "but that
was a long time ago, before he died."

"I am the one who killed him."

The little man gives me a strange look, as if I am telling him
something he already knows. "That's not important now. I
have an urgent message from Trask for Jean Grey." He holds
out the device in his hand, as proof of what he says.

His serious earnestness almost makes me laugh. What
message could possibly matter now? "Vhat is this so-urgent
message?"

He bristles. "It's for her ears only."

Still, I am dubious. I turn to Jean and Logan. He is now
holding her in his arms, but I am not sure whether it is by
sheer force or mutual desire.

"It's very important, especially now," the little man persists.
"Please! She must hear what they have to say!"

I cannot imagine that this message will help the situation, but I
push myself up off the ground, rising stiffly to my feet. "Come
vith me."

Obediently, he trots along behind me.

As we approach them, I can see tears in Jean's eyes, which are
no longer gleaming with that awful power. Perhaps Logan has
prevailed, after all?

She sees me. Freeing herself from Logan's embrace, she runs
over, taking my hands and looking earnestly into my face.
"Kurt, I want you to drop me off wherever you put those
creatures. Quickly, while I still have control of myself. I'll be
trapped there also, and our world will be safe."

Despite my shock at her request, I realize she may be right.
This may be our only chance. But this is Jean, whose trust in
me never wavered. But still --

"Nein! I cannot do that to you! I vill not!"

Bob tries to say something, but I push him away. We don't
need him adding to this tense situation.

The fierce struggle for control is clear on her contorted face.
The Power swirls around her, roiling and twisting like a living
thing. She grimaces with pain, forcing out her next words as if
something inside is trying to stop her. "You must. I can't
contain this much longer. It's too powerful. I'm losing myself
to it. Fighting those creatures only made things worse. By
learning to wield it, I've made it mine. It's part of me now,
and I'm part of it. The more power I develop, the harder it
becomes for me to control."

Logan's eyes meet mine. I cannot tell if he agrees with Jean or
not. Finally, he speaks to her. "You held the Phoenix Force
once, and you cast it away. You rejected the Apocalypse Power
when it was driven out of me. You can reject it now."

"No." She shakes her head violently, as if trying to free it from
some overwhelming force. "Even if I could, it would only jump
to someone else. Probably you, Logan, since you held it before.
That would solve nothing."

"Yeah, it would. Then Kurt could port me away �"

"No! This is my responsibility now, not yours."

"But Jeannie �"

"Damn you all, you WILL listen to me!!" Pushing me aside,
Hydra Bob strides over and confronts Jean as if she were not
the single most powerful being in our universe, literally
thrusting his communicator into her face. "Bolivar Trask is on
here, and he has something to say that may solve all this. Talk
to him!"

Logan and I are still surprised at the interruption, even as Jean
takes the device. She listens, and her face changes. Except
possibly for Logan, we cannot hear what is being said.

Jean lowers the device from her ear, then looks at us. Her
voice is strangely calm as she announces, "Trask and Moreau
have set up another container that can capture the Apocalypse
Power. They have everything ready, if I can free myself from
it."

She hands the device back to Bob. "Keep them informed."

He nods, as my weary mind struggles to adjust to this new
development.

Logan is way ahead of me, as he demands of Jean, "Is there
anymore of that stuff you gave me to drive the Power out?"

"No. I used it all on you and they can't make more."

"Then you're gonna have ta do it on your own." With his good
hand, he presses his palm to her cheek. "You can, Punkin. I
know you can

She shakes her head.

"You've gotta! For us! For our world!"

She pushes him away. "I don't have the strength anymore. I
don't know how."

All I can do is watch helplessly as they argue.

Jean turns to me, her hands reaching out in pleading. "Kurt,
please! If you love me, do what I asked!!"

"No!" Logan yells, grabbing her and pulling her away.

Fierce anger flares in her eyes. Black flames burn around her,
as the energy gathers. "Let me go," she demands, in a voice I
have never heard her use before.

Undeterred, Logan stands his ground.

"It's you or me, Punkin, 'cause I'm not gonna let you do this."

She looks at him with fire in her eyes. "You think you can stop
me, you miserable little mortal?"

"Maybe not, but I can try."

Her imperious voice breaks. "Don't. I don't want to have to
kill you."

"You can't stop me short of killin' me, darlin'. And I don't kill
easy." He braces himself and takes what might be his last
breath. He is somehow beautiful in his vulnerability and
nakedness, his penis fully aroused and standing proudly. I
feel a stirring in my own groin just at the sight of him.

But Jean is angry now. Pink and red flames blaze around her,
while bolts of energy flash from her eyes and mouth. She
pushes Logan away, so hard that he flies backward and
collides with the remains of a wall, then slides to the ground.

My fur stands on end from the intensity of the energy field.
For a brief moment, I feel a faint reflection of the power that is
hers. And I realize just how attractive that power can be. I
want to move, but I can only stand frozen, staring at her.

Logan staggers to his feet, shaking off whatever damage he
has taken and once again confronts Jean, who just stands
there glaring at him with silent fury.

"Logan, no," I say hopelessly, but he pays no attention to me.

He is focussed entirely on the woman he has always loved. His
face is a mask of pain and pleading. The claws on his hand
flash out, and I fear he is going to kill her, if he can. Instead,
he slices off the piece of segmented armor that she wears
around her waist like a metal bikini, then deftly rips through
the fabric of her uniform. One arm wraps around her waist,
while that gruesome cannon on his other arm presses against
her stomach.

"Kill me, Jeannie. Or love me more than you love power," he
says calmly. "Your choice."

He lifts her up, settling her carefully down onto his erect penis.

At first, she struggles, but he holds himself inside her, forcing
his lips against that distorted black-lipped mouth in a kiss. He
embraces her with all his strength, his clawed hand now
clutching her buttocks as he uses the other arm to hold her
upper body hard against him. As the energy builds around
them, they form a terrible tableau.

My heart sinks. It is too much. She will destroy him.

Then she stops struggling. Her arms go around Logan, her legs
wrap around his waist. She moves against him with a frenetic
desperation, driving him deeper into her. Logan's legs are
braced and he holds her weight easily. The grimace on his face
could be ecstasy or agony, it is impossible to tell which.

Jean arches her back, throwing her head and upper body out
away from Logan. Her arms reach up to the sky as she lets out
an awful scream. Something like static electricity circles
frenetically around her. Logan jerks as if he is being
electrocuted. Then ribbons of bright energy flare out all over
her, and I fear for her life. In an almost visible torrent of
roiling emptiness and darkness, the Apocalypse Power deserts
her.

Before I can fully realize what Jean has done, tendrils of that
implacable darkness reach down toward me. I throw myself
backwards, trying to port away, but already it has caught me.

Somewhere inside my head, I can literally feel its words.
*Power, unbelievable Power!* it whispers. *Unconquerable
Force! Destruction to your enemies!*

Images of Beast and Sugarman flash into my mind, their bodies
being torn to pieces before my eyes, slowly, horribly. Their
blood soaks into the ground, their dying screams of agony fill
my ears. Oh yes! So good! I can almost feel the vast hole in
my heart being filled with grim satisfaction, just as it was when
the Blob was torn apart, and when Bobby melted in the
furnace, but deeper, more satisfying.

*Yes! Vengeance! Death to all those who have wronged you!*

My soul is being dragged into the raging maelstrom, and I
cannot hold my ground against it. Even though I shouldn't, I
still want what is being offered.

*All you have to do is take it. Power you cannot even imagine,
to wield as you will. Take it, and take the world along with it.
Make it or destroy it, as you will.*

Somewhere in the distance, I hear Bob screaming into his
communicator, "Now! Now! Now!" But I do not know why he
is so excited, nor even why I should care.

I try to tell myself this insidious whisper is lying. Both Beast
and Sugarman are in another universe, where I, even with the
Apocalypse Power, could not go. But still it is so tempting, so
desirable. I could give myself up to this overwhelming force
that tickles my soul and inflames my body.

I will not. I must not. I have seen the horrors that come with
it, have seen its victims. I must not take it, but neither am I
able to refuse it.

A cloying whisper suggests that I could take it, and then port
away to that other dimension and never return.

Yes! That would solve everything! I don't have to resist
anymore. I can --

But what if I lack the courage, once I give in? Could I really
strand myself that way? Maybe, but maybe not. I might
weaken, and the Power would have me. No! I dare not take
that chance. I must resist.

The whisper changes: *Power to repair the world! All by
yourself, you could make it right again! You could take over,
and prevent anyone from stopping you. You would be the
savior of your people. You could even make sure mutants are
respected and well treated. Or even better, you could put other
mutants where they belong, in charge. All this could be yours,
will be yours, if you take what is offered to you.*

Yes, I could do that! I could use it for good, not evil. Why
didn't I think of that! Of course. I could fix all of the
destruction, make my world the paradise it should be!

I am ready to allow it now. I feel the tendrils invading my
mind, insinuating itself into me. But I am strong. I will control
it. I will be the master.

Or will it control me, as it has controlled everyone else? So
much power should never belong to any one person. I know
that full well.

But it has a hold on me now, and I can only struggle to get
free. Desperate, I pull up hatred from deep in my heart, setting
it against my enemy. Memories from long in the past. The
original Apocalypse, and the long battle against his evil, with
victory so precariously won.

The monster that Power made of Logan. The things he did as
the Overlord, the horrors of his reign of terror. Millions
exterminated, many of my friends dead. Our world is what it is
now because of that Power. With all my heart and soul, I hate
it!

I focus my hatred and rage against the thing that tries to
smother me, refusing it entry, willing it away.

It is no use. The more hate I throw at it, the greater it
becomes. And I am weakening, inexorably being dragged into
the whirlpool, where I must at last give in and drown.

But still I am determined to go down fighting, even in the face
of certain defeat. In the end, it will have my soul, but if I can
do nothing else, I will not give up easily.

I feel myself yielding to that hideous Power, my defenses being
crushed, my resolve being sliced into shreds. I try to gather
those shreds of myself together, bind them with my hate and
despair, cast them away.

Like a drowning man, I try to reach up, out of the water, to find
something to grasp that will save me.

But I am alone in my desperate battle. There is no one here to
help me.

Then another voice makes itself heard, but very faintly, as if
from a great distance. I almost refuse to listen, but it is so
familiar, so very like my own. And I have heard that voice
before.

"Mein Freund, hatred vill not vork against this kind of evil. It
feeds on hatred. It alvays has. The only thing that vorks, the
only thing that has ever vorked, is love."

And I remember Logan, holding Jean, forcing her into his
embrace, pulling her down onto him, risking everything in his
last desperate attempt to remind her of his love.

So I reach out to the only one I have ever truly loved.

"Linda, help me!" I scream soundlessly inside my head.

And I feel her in my arms once more. That vast overwhelming
ecstasy floods my heart as she takes me inside her body and
we celebrate the incredible ecstasy of life and living. I hold her
in my heart as a shield. A new strength floods over me and the
hideous whisper of the Apocalypse Power is silenced by the
sheer intensity of our love.

For an instant, everything hangs in the balance. I can be ruled
by my hatred, or I can be ruled by my love.

With my beloved in my arms, I can choose love.

Pain rips through my body, as if I am being pulled apart. As
the Power is torn away, I hear my own voice screaming in
agony. I collapse to the ground.

The next thing I am aware of is Jean's voice cutting through
the darkness inside my head. "Kurt! Kurt! Come back to us!
Please!"

I force my eyes open. Jean is holding me, with Logan kneeling
next to her, one arm around her shoulder. Bob stands a short
distance away, talking urgently into his communicator.

The little man looks up, and our eyes meet. "It worked! They
have it!"

Logan's other arm encircles me, drawing us all together as we
cry tears of joy. Above us, the eastern sky blazes with light,
but it is only the glow of sunrise above the ruins of the city,
which lies now at peace beneath the rising sun.

Like this city, our world is in ruins. It will take an incredible
effort to build a new civilization here.

I am ready to do my part, difficult as it may prove to be. For
now there is the glimmer of hope. If I can do this, then
someday I know I will be found worthy of rejoining my dearest
Linda for all eternity. Until then, our world lives, and I live with
it.

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THE ONLY THING