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The Circle And The Flame	By : KMac Category: X-men Comics > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 3163 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men comics, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
Steve � Project: Awaken

��Ninety-five.�
In the darkened gym aboard the
asteroid, Steve�s dog tag clacked on the floor at the low point of every
pushup, as it dangled from the chain around his neck. �Ninety-six.�
Sometimes it landed with the
hollows of the punched characters facing upwards, and at other times he looked
at the rounded backs of them. �Ninety-seven.�
When the letters were up, sometimes
the tag was upside-down, and at others it was right side up and readable.
�Ninety-eight.� Still, he knew what it said by heart, line by line.
�Rogers, Steven. 10591776. T43 44.
O. P.� Name; last name first. Serial number; starting with a 1 for Regular
Army, to show he�d enlisted instead of being drafted. There was no other number
like it, beginning with 105, a group unto himself, and ending with 1776 as some
wag�s idea of a joke. Dates of his last Tetanus shots. Blood type O, the
positive being assumed. P for Protestant. �Ninety-nine.� They changed the
format for the info a lot over the years of the war. His first tags had his
name printed normally, with his next of kin and home address on it. He tended
to go through dog tags a lot, though, and the ones he came through the ice with
were of a later style.
�One hundred.� He pushed himself to
a sitting position, draping a towel around his neck and turning the tag over in
his hand. He only had one now. He�d given the other to Becky. It seemed in the
years after the war, they�d become fashionable for youngsters to wear,
especially genuine ones like his. He missed the weight of the second tag, but
the happy look on her face when he hung it around her neck more than made up
for that. She�d asked about the little notch on one side, but he�d only
shrugged. He didn�t want to tell her what he�d heard on the battlefield� that
when a man died and couldn�t be removed right away, one of the tags was taken
for record keeping, and the other� the notch was put between the dead mans
teeth and his jaw kicked shut to ensure the tag embedded itself in the skull of
the deceased, so the body could be properly identified later.*
Still turning the tag in his hands,
his mind drifted back to experiences of the war. The smells of mud, gun smoke,
and decay. The steady thud of the motors and the popping of gunfire. Straining
his hearing for the stealthy sound of the enemy� He froze at a quiet footfall,
followed by soft words spoken in German. In an instant, the war was back with
him in the here and now. He felt naked, and out of uniform without his shield
and sidearm. But even as he pressed back into the dark corner of the gym,
prickling with a fine layer of apprehensive sweat, he recognized the voice of
the speaker. No Nazi he�d ever heard spoke as gently and lyrically as Kurt
Wagner. Steve edged forward, just enough to hear why Kurt was here, in the
dark.
�We are here as you asked, Mother,�
the young mutant said. �Not that we understand the secrecy you insisted on.�
�Thank you, Kurt,� Darkholme said.
�Let�s just say a little birdy told me there will be a mission tomorrow.
Shield�s Herr Leader,� the distain in her voice was clearly audible, �is
giving a major speech. That�s unusual these days, as he prefers to stay behind
the scenes, but with the uproar about the fall of the Carrier and the raid on
Mayor Fisk�s mansion, the government brought out the big guns.� Someone hissed
during her words, but he couldn�t tell who. Darkholme continued, �I�m telling
you, because of everyone here, the two of you have as much desire to see him
dead as I do. More, you have the skills and training to help me see this
through. And unlike many of the others, you two aren�t hampered by the
do-goodism that might allow him to get away.�
Kurt, and Steve presumed, Kitty
were quiet after Darkholme finished speaking, and then; �I was not trained as a
killer, Mother, and I prefer that Katzchen not revisit those skills, either.�
�Wait, Kurt,� yes, that was Kitty
Wagner�s voice. �We got a chance to face down our demons on the Carrier. It�s
only fair she get to do so, as well. So. We can go as support, and to keep the
guards and such off you. But if you want him dead, that�s your own lookout.
Clear?�
�Wouldn�t want it any other way,
dear. So you two are with me on this?�
There was a sigh, and Kurt
responded. �Very well, Mother. We�re with you.�
The conspirators parted ways then,
with Kurt and Kitty passing by where Steve stood shrouded by the darkness.
Golden eyes met his as the young acrobat went by, and Steve could swear that
Kurt smiled at him, but he couldn�t say why.
The shadows of the gym grew quiet
again, and Steve thought about what he�d just heard. So Darkholme wanted to
confront the Skull and kill the filthy Nazi if she was able. Well� he had no
problems with taking the old man out, as the woman pointed out to him many
times, he�d traded one war for another in this new time. But� he let out a huff
of exasperation� Damn it! If anyone had a demon to face down, it was him!
Perhaps identity theft on the grandest of scales didn�t compare to two years of
rape and sexual abuse, as she had endured, but he still wanted to stare the old
Nazi in the eye one last time. Darkholme was just going to have to accept that
there�d be one more person on the upcoming mission list.
Now if he could only get her out of
his head at nights. Dreaming erotically of a woman he could barely stand was
annoying, to say the least�

* * *

Damn her sapphire skin and ruby
hair! She was like a jewel made flesh. A regular Mata Hari; she was a danger to
every male in the room. She�d taken to pacing the room during Raider�s
meetings, and even her own son would watch her in horrified fascination. Like a
Queen cat in heat, she would slink around the room, and Rebecca would only
smile, because her Mom was getting back to normal, for her� Steve crossed his
arms and stuck his long legs out away from the table, scowling.
Normal! Hell, if that was
normal for Darkholme, then all he could say that the sooner she got married
off, the better. His scowl deepened. Um� to someone else, that is. But then,
she wasn�t the marrying kind, was she, despite having caught the bouquet at
Szardos�s wedding. She wasn�t exactly normal by any definition, except
her own. Unbidden, his mind called up an image from a dream� Of her lying
wanton under him, as he sweated to give her more of what she�d stolen from him
to make their daughter�
The she devil�s eyes locked with
his, with half a sneer of challenge, and half an �I caught you looking�
taunting expression, and Steve made himself pay attention to the meeting again,
swinging his legs, and more importantly, his lap, back under the table. Yeah,
look at the Raider�s leader, with his common-law wife at his side, whose two
grown sons had both married before they had�** Not that it was any of his
business. And why was he thinking about marriage so much these days? His
wandering gaze was caught by sky blue fingers toy with hair the color of
goldenrods. Yes, he thought with a mental sigh, she was the reason. A modern
girl in this modern time, but with his blood in her veins� his, and hers.
His jaw clenched convulsively. It outraged his every moral instinct that Raven
Darkholme was his little girl�s feminine role model. God forbid Becky should
turn out to be the kind of fire-breathing ball-breaker her mother was�
He snapped back at attention again
at the sound of a name that haunted his sleep even more than Darkholme did; the
Red Skull.
�Yeah, I thought that would get
your attention, Steve,� Jon said with a smile. �We�ve gotten some intel that
the old fossil is giving a televised speech in the wake of our activities
lately to announce new security measures. It seems the public has become
agitated by our recent successes, and he has to address those concerns.� His
smile grew mischievous. �Our contacts in the Resistance told us what station
he�ll be broadcasting the live address from, and that they felt too much
security would tip off the wrong elements� like us, so the station itself will
likely be only lightly guarded. If that�s so, then a select group could go
there, and do� what?�
Scott�s face was like stone. �There
is this little matter of a Shield ambush a few years ago. We could pay them
back for the damage they did to us.� He turned his head so his remaining eye
could meet the gazes of the others in the room, one by one. He didn�t have the
craggy scar marring his features and bisecting his eyebrow anymore; that was a
simple matter for Dion to heal. But the burned out eye� she had to have
something to work with; she couldn�t regenerate what was no longer there.
�Sounds good to me, Scooter,� Logan
said with a snarling grin. �That�d�a put the fear a� mutants into �em.�
Uncomfortable expressions were all
that answered him. Finally Kurt broke the silence, �I would say, Herr
Logan, that they already fear us too much.� He gestured to himself with a
bitter quirk of the mouth, �Mutants like me, for instance. But from what I
understand of our ultimate mission here, it is to strive for the day when we
are accepted as citizens, and to fight only the powers that would harm us or
keep us from that goal.�
Bless you, Kurt, Steve
thought. The young German had brought up just the right point. �Tell me,� he
said to Scott, �What did that ambush you were in create?�
�Excuse me?� Scott adjusted his red
glasses, one lens bright, and one dark.
�By Killing Magneto,� Steve said,
�they created a martyr; a larger than life symbol that our leader Jon, here is
exploiting to this day. The myth of Magneto still exists, inspiring
mutants, and reminding humans that you won�t just go away and give up.� Now it
was his turn to look up and down the table. �Kill the Skull and you make him
their martyr; a beloved old man, slaughtered by those �evil, nasty mutants�.
Even if no one sees who killed him, that�s what they�ll say.� As well as
ensuring that he could never claim his own name again.
�You got a better idea, Boy Scout?�
Darkholme snarled at him, furious.
�As a matter of fact, I do,� he
told her. �A �little birdy� tipped me about this, too, and I had some time to
think it through, if you all want to hear it.�
Jon gave a permissive wave, �By all
means.�
�He�ll be in a television studio,
his image and voice broadcasting all over the country, and the world. If we can
get him to tell the truth, on camera� we can have someone who can man
the cameras, and not be seen,� Steve gestured at Kurt, �after making sure the
warning lights that signal broadcasting are covered, and preventing Shield from
stopping the signal, wouldn�t that be more effective that just killing him? Not
that his death is a bad idea, but the first goal should be to get at the truth
of who he really is.�
�He needs to die,� Darkholme said
through gritted teeth.
�If that�s what we all agree on,�
Steve said. �This is a war. But after he�s revealed the truth, and
shaken the underpinnings that Shield and this sick society were founded on. If
it can be convincing enough, eventually everyone who sees it will have to deal
with the information that the world�s leader was a Nazi, and some of them will
side with us.�
�He has a good point, Raven� Kitty
said.
�Fine,� she snapped, then took a
breath as she fought for her composure. �I�m the one who�s had the most recent�contact�
with him, of all of us, and I know the subjects that will get him talking about
those things. I should go, along with Kurt, and Kitty.�
�You�ll need support to keep
outlying security out of the studio,� Jon said, �but that sounds good for the
inside team. You�re to get him talking about who he really is, on camera.�
Steve shook his head, and Darkholme
glared at him. �I�m sorry ma�am, but having you bring up secret pillow talk in
a broadcast studio, even if the cameras are supposedly turned off� Don�t you
think that make him suspicious? Forgive me, but he probably didn�t have any
respect for you, so why on Earth would he let you dictate the turn of the
conversation, even at gunpoint? Would a conversation like that seem convincing
to the public? No, you need someone there who will make him babble everything
we want him to say, all on his own. You need me there. Seeing me, especially
the way I�ve cheated time, will drive him into a frenzy, and play right into
our hands.�
Darkholme slapped her hand down
hard on the table, but a quick look around the room showed that Steve�s logic
was too convincing to deny. Always one to pick her battles, she grit her teeth
and slumped back in her chair, forced to accept the consensus. �All right, Boy
Scout, you� have a point.�
�Thank you,� he said. �So where and
when is this opportunity�?�

* * *

On the shuttle trip to D.C., Steve
listened to Kitty tell her husband how she and Darkholme had been taking
Piloting lessons from Wolverine, but his mother had gotten her certificate
first. �I could run the vessel in an emergency, but I�d have to rely heavily on
the autopilot. Luckily the autopilot is a very smart program.�
�Well done,� Kurt said. �How long
before you get your certificate?�
She snorted, �It�s just a matter of
time, what little free time I have, after everything else I have to do.� She
leaned against her man, and looked at Steve. �Why don�t you get mad when she
calls you Boy Scout?�
Steve smiled at her, trying not to
think how young she looked without the Hound tattoos on her face. �Well she may
be trying to get my goat, but I was a Boy Scout. I don�t think that I
would ever have made Eagle Scout.� He thumbed his chest. �I wasn�t always the
physical specimen that I am now, before I took the super-soldier formula.�
There was a noise that might have been a snort of derision from the cockpit
where Darkholme was piloting the shuttle. �I was scrawny, even sickly as a boy.
I volunteered for the war, but the board categorized me as 4F; unfit to serve.
Then I got the chance to join this experimental program, hoping to be of some
use to the war effort. Little did I know what it all would lead to.� He
gestured at himself again, this time indicating his original costume that he
was wearing, the better to make his identity clear today.
��A fat head, for one thing��
Darkholme muttered snidely from the front.
He grinned merrily at the kids,
pleased to be able to annoy her for a change. �What was that, Darkholme?�
�Nothing!� she snapped, then after
a long pause with her voice in a more normal tenor, �E.T.A. ten minutes.�
�Roger Wilco,� he said. He gripped
the strap of his shield reflexively, and watched as the former hounds made
their preparations. Kitty perched her night vision goggles on her head, and
patted down her shoulders, sides, and legs for her complement of weapons. Kurt
hung his gauntlets on either side of his belt to stop them from clanking
together. Mostly the acrobat was organizing his kit bag of goodies; tape, spray
paint, lock picks, bandages, cord, and the like. Their young faces were so
serious, so grim. Too like so many other young soldiers he�d fought with over
the years, many of whom he saw die on the battlefield.
Kurt reached out his hand to his
wife and gently clasped her hands, leaving her a bit of string, before letting
go and putting on his own ring of twine. He brought up a bigger wad of knotted
cord that he ran through his thick fingers in the manner of a rosary. Kitty
pulled out a Star of David from around her neck that she kissed then dropped
back inside her dark leather suit. Such an odd couple they were; Catholic and
Jewish, American and & German, normal looking and, well, frankly strange
looking. But both very human, and for all of it, united by their pain and their
love. If only he had found someone like that to see him through� but she�d be
dead or very old now, wouldn�t she?
�We�ve landed,� Darkholme said. �Let�s
go.� They stepped out onto the roof of a modest sized building in the
Washington D.C. commercial district.
Kurt slunk to the rooftop stairwell
and handily picked the lock. Steve used his own night goggles to look off the
sides of the building for patrols, but found the streets eerily deserted. Other
shuttles landed on nearby buildings, their job to keep Shield from interfering
with the primary mission. He rejoined them at the stairs, and they followed
Kurt down. They waited in the stairwell while he checked for personnel. The top
two floors where clear of people, but on the next couple he gestured at Kitty
to use her new toys on the civilians he found; darts that contained a sleep
drug that delivered on a solid hit. They were weighted and balanced the same as
her slim straight shurikens, and Kitty would dart who ever they encountered,
then the rest of them would truss them up and lock them in a closet. It almost
seemed the former Hounds were having fun, as they used their deadly skills for
such bloodless ends.
From the fifth floor on down, they
started encountering Shield Secret Services, and now the kids became serious.
When the floor was cleared, they moved on and found a diagram on an agent on
the fourth. The President was in the main studio on the third floor, which was
the most heavily guarded. �Let�s clear that floor last,� Steve whispered, and
the nods of the others indicated their agreement. He had to admit, when
Darkholme was on the job she was professional, and hell on wheels. Taking the
stairwell to the bottom floor, they cleared it slowly, glad of the fact only
necessary studio personnel were there, and minimal guards. While on the second
floor, they heard the start of the speech over the building�s loud speakers.
�My fellow citizen,� the hated
voice began, �I address you tonight in the face of a grave and present danger.
The mutant terrorists have become increasingly bold in their attacks against
the human race and our way of life. In return, I fear that we will have to be
equally aggressive in our fight to eradicate them. To this end, I have proposed
a number of measures to be ratified by the legislature, that include
reevaluating the use of service mutants, and stepping up our efforts to
identify mutants from an earlier age before they become dangerous.�
�I�ll show you dangerous, you
filthy old man,� he heard Darkholme snarled.
The hated voice continued its
address. �These measures may include some minor inconveniences to your daily
life, but you must understand that it us for the greater cause, and for the
safety of our precious children.�
�Just give me what remains of your
liberty, and I�ll protect you,� Steve said. She met his eyes and nodded, for
once in complete concurrence with him. He turned his head to see Kurt give
Kitty a smirk. Now what was that about? Whatever, it was time to move on to the
third floor. Before long the outlying guards were tied up, but the rest of the
floor was nearly deserted. There were two men in the control booth, two guards
behind the cameras on the sound stage, a cameraman, and a political advisor.
Kitty walked through the door of
the booth and darted the men in there, and passed them back to the others.
�I�ve got this,� she said, �Kurt, try to keep the cameras on the action, one
full front and one semi-profile.�
He gave her a thumbs-up, then
touched his fingers to his lips and extended them silently to her before he
followed Steve and Darkholme to the stage. The back stage door was open, so
Kurt crept in and began turning the lights down, and covering the �on air�
sign. That got the attention of the guards, who went back to investigate. The
faint noises of them being subdued caused the advisor to brave the dimness, and
join them in unconsciousness. Darkholme took the advisor�s form and went up the
cameraman. �You there, come over here a moment,� the �advisor� said in a stage
whisper. The man locked his camera in place, and went back to see what �he�
wanted, only to get darted for his trouble.
The silver haired man behind the
anchor desk kept reading his speech unsuspecting as vague figures moved behind
the dazzling stage lights. Kurt put dark tape on the indicator of the side
camera, and waited to do the same to the main, until Steve and Darkholme were
in place just outside the lights. Darkholme nodded at Kurt, and walked forward.
They heard Kitty say, �Show-time!� over their communicators. Kurt darkened the
main camera�s indicator, as the Skull paused in his speech and stared at the
blatant approach of his former concubine.
�Hello, Mr. President,� she said.
�Bet you didn�t expect to see me again.� The Skull stole a quick glance at the
cameras, but looked relieved when they both appeared to be turned off.
Nightcrawler showed himself briefly near them before blending back into the
darkness. �Oh, we don�t intend on letting you finish your speech. A don�t try
calling for your guards, the only people upright in the building are you, and
us.�
The gray-haired man sneered at her.
�As soon as you interrupted the broadcast, you alerted my Shield troops,� he
said curtly. �You will never escape.�
�Who says we want to?� she said.
�But it would be worth it to get you.�
He arched an eyebrow and chuckled.
�Is that what this is about, Raven? Kill me, and you turn me into a Saint.
Normals will never stop hunting your degenerate kind, like you and your
demon-spawn of a son over there. It�s too late, anyway, the Final Solution is
at hand!�
Steve watched Kurt turn the side
camera to capture Darkholme�s look of confusion. The Skull pounded his fist on
the table, and stood, causing Kurt to adjust the main camera. �For too long we
have tolerated your filth! In our kindness we put mutants to work as laborers,
Hounds, and concubines, but no more! Our kindness has been ill repaid as you
destroyed valuable installations, and steal things that you are incapable of
understanding. No more, I say. Soon, when these measures pass, the only
destination for an apprehended mutant will be a dissection table. Even
beautiful ones like you,� he ended his rant with a salacious smirk.
�You should know, you monster,�
Darkholme spat. �Since I spent much of the last few years chained to your bed
so you could rape me, when you could manage, that is.�
�Mutant slut,� he sneered in the
face of her distain. �I managed enough.�
Enough was enough, Steve
thought. �Darkholme!� he whispered to her, and she turned her head a little,
showing she�d heard him.
�One of the things we�ve stolen,�
she said with an unpleasant smile, �was a certain block of ice from a Shield
lab� Do you intend on going to your grave with another man�s name and face? Who
are you really, anyway?�
The Skull made a scoffing noise,
and glared at her. �The� thing you found was an imposter, and rightly found his
end in the sea. It was kept secret so as not to confuse the Public.� He drew
himself up, �As you well know, my name is��
�Don�t you even say it, you old
fraud!� Steve said, striding into the lights. He glared sternly at the older
man behind the desk. �Remember me? It seems my time �on ice� didn�t harm me,
besides what your scientists did, but it did enable me to bypass the aging that
is so clearly weighing down on you.� He pushed back his winged cowl, as the
Skull gaped at him, because really, what did his secret matter anymore? �My
name is Steve Rogers, and you, are the Nazi criminal once called the Red Skull,
who has spent the last fifty years using my name and face, to turn this good
nation into a hell on earth. Hitler is undoubtedly proud of what you�ve done,
in whatever hell he�s rotting in now. You, Johan Schmidt, were his greatest
handiwork, but you have surpassed even the master in your evil.�
�Don�t call me that!� The Skull
said. �I am Rogers! You are an imposter conjured up from the sea. You
should have been destroyed as soon as you were discovered, like the simple
fishermen who made the mistake of pulling you from the waves.�
Steve shook his head, sadly. �I
expect you to lie to the dupes you�ve ruled over all this time, Schmidt, but
are you going to lie to yourself? I thought you were proud of your Aryan
heritage, and of your status as the Fuhrer�s favorite lieutenant; the fearsome
Red Skull!� He looked the older man up and down scathingly, �I didn�t know that
you�d be so ashamed of it all that you�d cling to my identity like child to his
security blanket.�
The old man sneered. �Nein! I am
not ashamed! I am a loyal son of the fatherland!� He voice showed the faint
traces of an accent long suppressed. �Herr Hitler made me his brutal
fist, and it has been my great pleasure to do the same to your unwitting
countrymen.� The toothy bared grin he gave was like nothing the average viewer
had ever seen before on their leader�s face. �You Americans were so self
righteous during the war, sure that your country could never succumb to the
sway of Nationalism, but you were wrong. Little by little I led them to Nazism,
and they never even realized it. It�s too late, Rogers� Thirty years ago, even
twenty, your presence might have made a difference� but I own them now. Your
plans will fail.�
�Not while I breathe, monster,�
Steve said. �Not while any trace of the way American used to be exists. I will
devote all my years to undoing your work. After all, you don�t have much time
left, do you old man? I�m still a young man, with decades ahead of me.�
�What makes you think I�ll permit
you to live that long?� the Skull said.
Steve gave him a skeptical look,
�The days when you were even close to being a match for me in a fight are long
gone, Schmidt.�
The Skull narrowed his eyes, �I
have other weapons at my disposal than my fists, Rogers.�
�If you don�t mind my butting in your
slogan fest, gentlemen,� Darkholme said. �I want to know, why Mutants?�
�Why not?� the old man said, with a
negligent shrug. �Nationalism requires an enemy, an Other to be hated
and vilified. Back in Germany, it was the Jews, mostly. Early on when I came
here, it was the mongrel bloods you�d allowed into your midst; the Negroes, the
Asians, the Hispanics. It was easy to stir up the latent hatred for them as the
opening gambit to turn America rightwards politically. But when the mutants
started appearing, well they were the perfect goats for my plans. With racial
tensions already high, the evidence that a racial inferior could become a
genetic superior caused even those resistant to suppressing the lesser races to
get behind the programs to control mutants. Mutants bring it on themselves with
their freakish abilities and appearances.
�Nonsense,� Steve said. �Most of
the mutants I�ve met, including Miss Darkholme here, are perfectly ordinary
people. Yes, people. Humans like you and me, albeit with extra powers.
You perhaps remember the Mutants members of the Invaders that I fought beside
during the War? They�re all just people, same as any of us.�
The Skull laughed. �People?
Your common citizen wants to think that he�s special, superior even, to
everyone else. He wants an excuse to hate, to feel better than the common
cattle around him, when the plain truth is he�s part of the self-same herd he�s
so busy hating.� A sly smile crossed his face. �And think now, Rogers; do you
believe they didn�t know what was really going on? They welcomed a firm hand,
and a father figure to tell them what to do, like the children they are. Your
face and the hero worship that went with it was just the excuse they needed to
admit it to themselves.�
�Americans are not children,� Steve
retorted. �We are the self-reliant inheritors of immigrants from all over the
world. This nation was founded on the principles of Justice and Liberty.�
�Justice is when the �right� people
win, regardless of their actual guilt,� the Skull said. �And Liberty is people
yielding their so called freedoms to those who know better than they. They
would gladly give up those empty phrases for solid protection from the Enemy.�
�The only enemy I see here, is
you,� Steve said.
�And what about that blue whore
next to you,� the Skull said.
�An ally,� Steve said. �A person,
deserving of al the respect due to any person.� He didn�t turn to see how she
might respond to those words.
�No, she�s a danger, and a
contamination of everything you are and represent. You are the perfect normal
human, and humanity will not be safe until her kind is exterminated,� the Skull
said.
Steve snorted. �Funny, I seem to
remember you saying such things about the Jews, all those years ago.� He half
turned from the Skull in disgust, forgetting that old lions still had fangs�
�Gun!� Darkholme said.
He swung back to face the desk,
bringing up his shield, catching some of the momentum of the bullet headed for
Darkholme�s chest. Slowed and deflected, the round caromed from the shield to
her head, and she fell without a sound.
Steve heard Kurt curse, and Kitty
cry out over the comm piece in his ear, but he couldn�t worry about that at the
moment. The Skull aimed his pistol at him now, a ruthless grin on his face for
successfully dropping the Mutant. Steve hefted his shield higher and hissed at
Kurt to stay back or he�d be another target. Bullet after bullet clanged off
his shield, and he crept forward from behind it, right hand hovering over his
sidearm as he waited for his own opportunity to fire. He pushed forward another
step under its protection, when suddenly the shooting stopped. Cautiously he
looked up, to see the Skull looking down at himself confused, pistol held
loosely in one hand, a fresh clip in the other. A stain of red started
spreading over his white shirt from behind his tie. Steve stepped to the desk
and took the gun away from the wizened hand and tossed it across the
soundstage.
The Skull twisted, wincing, trying
to see over his shoulder, exposing the hole in the back of the fine wool coat.
�A ricochet�?� he said, as blood bubbled on his lips and he turned to Steve
once more. Faded rheumy eyes faced eyes of clear cornflower blue in a final
stare, and Steve could hear Kurt�s suppressed weeping in his ear. It was time
to end this. He turned away, and the Skull grabbed at his arm, and he looked
back impatiently. �The game� has� only just� begun�� the old man said, more
blood gurgling in his mouth, and then he slumped down over the desk, the clip
clattering from his failing grasp to the floor.
Steve hurried where Darkholme lay
so still on the stage floor. There was a pool of blood by her head, but not as
large a one as he expected, so maybe� Her face was unmarred, so he combed
through her hair looking for the wound, not caring about the blood smearing his
gloves. No hole, and her skull seemed intact, with no fractures. He found a bad
scalp tear a few inches above her hairline, but that seemed to be the worst of
it. �A scalp would,� he said. �Bandages.� He caught the bundle Kurt tossed from
behind the camera, the young man�s tears changing from sorrow to joy, as he
prayed softly for his birth mother�s well being.
Steve quickly wound the gauze
around Darkholme�s red, blood soaked tresses. �Pull it together, kids, we need
to get out of here, fast.� He scooped the woman up in his arms, and noticed
despite himself and the situation, how good she felt in them. He stepped
between the cameras with his wounded, leaving the dead behind.
Kurt hurried after him, and Kitty
joined them as they passed the control booth. �I locked the channel to the
Emergency Broadcast signal,� she said, her voice a little shaky. He nodded in
mingled acknowledgement and encouragement, and she smiled a little in return.
When they got to the shuttle, under the cover of the other Raider ships
protecting the building from air and ground assault, Kitty moved to the
cockpit. �Like I said, I can fly this thing, mostly,� she said.
�Mostly?� her husband teased, his
voice inappropriately giddy. Steve knew the reaction well; the bone-jarring
fear of watching a close comrade fall in battle often turned to nearly manic
relief when the news was better than hoped for. Kitty lifted the craft, and
pulled out to follow the rest of the fleet.
And now, was the worst part of
fighting alongside a woman; watching over them when she was injured, and
especially like now, when it was his fault she was hurt� If he hasn�t
turned away just then, if he�d gotten up the shield up a little faster�
�She�ll be alright, Cap,� Kurt
said, a new calm and understanding in his eyes.
�Yeah�� he said. �Sure.� He
strapped her across some seats, and looked at her closely. Unconscious, without
all the attitude and stress making her seem older and harsher, her face was
beautiful. Classically shaped, with fine cheekbones she�d passed to her both
her children. He watched her breathe, barely aware when Kurt joined Kitty in
the cockpit, or what the younger people talked about for the rest of the trip.
�I thought you�d want to look after
your�� Kitty said quietly.
�He�s watching her enough for both
of us,� Kurt said with a small smile.
�Really?� she said, returning his
smile. �Hmmm.�

* * *

In an upscale San Diego townhouse,
a tall, athletic girl with wavy brown hair brought a big bowl of popcorn from
the kitchen to the living room, and snuggled next to her grandpa on the couch,
showing him the new peach nail polish on her toenails. Grandpa Jim most
definitely wasn�t a member of the Patriot party, and spoke against President
Rogers� policies when he could get away with it. His son and daughter-in-law
were often embarrassed by him, but his wealth and job gave him enough leeway to
be permitted some eccentricities. Grandpa was a stubborn, old fashion cuss, but
she loved him anyway, and spent time with him whenever her conformist parents
would let her.
Today Rogers was giving a speech,
and she loved the way Grandpa would spitefully skewer the President�s rhetoric.
It taught her things about the way the country used to be, and the way American
life was lived that she never learned from her parents or from the classroom.
The old man was in fine form, and had gotten off some good zingers, when
Mutants invaded the studio� Popcorn forgotten, they watched with the rest of
the country as things were said and done that would change their world forever.
When the man who called himself the real Captain came on screen, Grandpa
Jim sat bolt upright, so rigid with tension it scared her.
�Grandpa, what�s wrong?� she said.
Without taking his eyes off the
screen, he answered, �My God, Libby. It�s him, really him! All these years, and
it wasn�t� Of course, that had to be the Skull, the real Steve would never have
done or said those things.� He put his face in his hands. �God, after all these
years�. And he�s so young� younger than your dad is now��
�Did you� did you know him?� Libby
said.
Grandpa Jim looked up at her,
�Yes,� he said simply.

AN: And, dun dun duh! An evil cliffy I probably won�t get
back to for ages and many chapters� =)��
I�ve got other fish to fry before I get back to Libby and her Grandpa�

~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The title of this one is a deliberate twist of the famous
Sentinel storyline in the X-men, �Project Wide Awake�.

* Snopes.com says that this isn�t true,
<http://www.snopes.com/military/notch.asp> but I didn�t find their
citations definitive. For a myth, this gruesome factoid certainly has a lot of
traction in military circles, and on the interwebs. In the story, Steve would
probably have heard it out in the field, but wouldn�t know anyone who�d seen it
happen directly (which is the very definition of an urban legend). For what
it�s worth, I gave him a 1944 version of the tags, with late date tetanus
shots, on the theory that he probably chewed through his tags quite a bit, and
had to keep getting them reissued. (An early version, of the kind he was
thinking of, can be found here, http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/d/df/Dog_tags.jpg
under the wikipedia article about dog tags.) And in a final note on this
subject, they switched to SSN�s in the late 60s, and stopped having the notch
in 1970, when they switched to an embossing format, as opposed to the original
letter-punch method, which was used so that the information on the tag could be
impressed with a carbon on the G.I.�s medical records in the field.
<http://home.att.net/~steinert/us_army_ww2_dog_tags.htm>

** This sounds a bit harsh, but he is a product of
his time. He�s an old-fashioned (pardon the pun) social conservative (with a
small �c�). From Steve�s point of view, even if there were pressing reasons at
the time Jimmy was conceived to drive Jon and Jimaine apart, they�ve certainly
been in no hurry to correct that since they�ve been reunited.

ZOMG!! The future world in the �Heroes� TV show on April 29,
�07 �Five Years Later� was so evocative of my AU it�s scary: �Rounding �em up,
diagnostic blood tests, keeping �em from breeding, an underground railroad, a
final solution� /shiver�
- 8
- 9
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The Circle And The Flame