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Survival	By : Darkhoelme Category: X-Men - Animated Series (all) > Het - Male/Female Views: 2539 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men Evolution, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
This is set in an AU of the RPG
Evolution Unbound and involves a world that has been over-run by zombies as the
result of an unknown plague. It�s written in role-playing format and alternates
between Kurt and Rogue�s POVs. Rogue�s POV was
written by Quing and Kurt�s by taekwondodo.
Boldface indicates a quote being
used from the previous character, italics
indicate thought and <this> indicates dialogue in German. The smut shows up in chapter three.

Rogue

    �

Zombies. There were motherfucking zombies all
over the goddamn place, they'd been there for some
time. At first, she'd been reluctant to accept that. Because really. Zombies. Zombies didn't exist. They weren't real,
they were made up to scare little kids and sell movies. Or so she'd thought.
Now she knew better.

Grabbing a parking meter, she swung it at the head of an approaching zombie,
leaning over the body as it hit the wall a few feet away with a satisfying
thud, what was left of its head crumpling and sliding to the ground in a gooey
mess.

"You'd better fucking stay dead this time, or so help me God I
will..." Shit, death threats didn't really work on the undead. And
swearing anything to God packed even less of a punch than normal. Earth was
Godless. Kicking the sad sack of flesh in the ribs, she turned back to Kurt,
who was working on burying the bodies that they'd been too late to save.

It had been a regular patrol; they'd been doing them for a while, trying to
find any actual living, breathing people that were still around. Saw a group of
zombies attacking some kids, and flown down to help. Unfortunately, the zombies
had already killed the kids, leaving the two young mutants to clean up the
mess. In the process of destroying the zombies and preparing the burial site
for the kids, they'd made a much larger mess out of the area, but at least
nobody was standing back up and trying to eat them. And although the kids were
all infected, would probably turn, they had to try and honor the fact
that they had been people mere moments before. So after making sure that their
brains were completely destroyed, a task that had been completely repulsive at
first but quickly became just another part of the routine, they'd started to
dig.

She'd been digging right alongside him until another few undead goons decided
to shamble toward them, intent on having a little snack. There had only been a
few of them, though, and killing them was easy enough. Taking to the air to
make sure that there weren't any other undead folks making their way toward the
burial site, she shouted down to Kurt, "Looks
clear."

Of course, they had a tendency to just pop out of fucking nowhere, but at least
there weren't any hordes of decaying bodies coming toward them just yet. She
turned in the air and swooped back down, landing softly next to him and looking
down at the kids, turning her head away as her stomach decided to react
violently. She'd puked enough before, and there was no way she was going to let
herself do it again. Just needed to keep herself busy,
couldn't think too long about what she was doing. Picking up one of the
partially folded street signs that they'd been using to dig, she jumped back
into the hole and put it to good use. "This is ridiculous. Why do we even
bother anymore?"

Tossing a pile of dirt toward the wall where the zombie's body lay crumpled and
decaying, she shook her head and turned back to Kurt. "How much longer do
you think it'll be before we run out of food, before these fuckers find us and
kill us too?"

Kurt

Kurt looked up from his work, not at the sickly-wet sound
of once human flesh hitting the wall, but at the sound of Rogue's voice as she
raged at the slumped form. It was getting to her more than usual today, it
seemed, and he wished they could just call it off and go home. Get away from
the filth and the stench and the soul-destroying disappointment of searching
and fighting and still being too fucking late.

He didn't even flinch away from the sight of rotting flesh
and protruding viscera as he turned back to his task, though his eyes did
linger sadly on a nearby swing as it swayed and creaked in what would have
qualified as a refreshing breeze if it hadn't carried the choking stench of
putrefaction on it. He only stared for a moment, though; only briefly wondered
if the children laid out nearby had thought it was safe to sneak out to the
park 'for just a minute' in the middle of the afternoon before going back to
methodically hacking away at the matted sod at his feet.

It was a routine now. Take out the shambling hordes of the
undead at the scene and then one of them would keep an eye out for any further
threat while the other scrambled the brains of the latest batch of victims and
dug the graves. If they were lucky it was with help from the survivors but the
latter seemed to be happening less and less lately. Too many
graves and too few survivors, because more often than not they were too late.
Sometimes by days and sometimes, like today, only by seconds. Some of the kids
had still been screaming when they'd gotten there today, but he blanked that
memory from his mind with a shudder. Had too many regrets as it was, he
couldn't afford to add to them or he'd crumble under the weight and so he used
the steady, mind-numbing labor of digging the grave to keep back memories of
having basically pithed the tiny bodies waiting to be
lowered into the hole like so many frogs in a biology class.

He turned another pile of earth out of the hole he was now
almost shoulder deep in as Rogue took to the air again, checking their
perimeter. He was grateful that the sprinkler system in the park still seemed
to be running on automatic, though whoever was responsible for it was doubtless
long dead...or undead more likely. The ground would have been too verdammt hard to
dig, otherwise - well, for him anyway, not for Rogue. As it was he hacked at a
tree root in his way with the edge of the stop sign Rogue had folded into a
shovel like so much origami paper and tried to decide how much deeper they
needed to go.

"Looks clear," Rogue called from
overhead, and he tipped his head back to look up at her, pushing sweat-soaked
hair back from his eyes and managing a smile, however weak, at the sight of her
swooping back towards the earth. It was probably wrong in the middle of this
madness that just the sight of her could still make him smile. It didn't last,
though, as she looked back at the pile of bodies, her face twisting
unmistakably before she picked up her own 'shovel' and set to work next to him.

"This is ridiculous. Why do we even bother
anymore?"

He wasn't sure if she meant the graves or the patrols, so
he chose to answer the latter, because he wasn't even sure himself about the
former any more, other than to know that he couldn't not
do it. Couldn't leave the desecrated remains of what had once been human
life lying in the open like so much offal...or a breakfast bar for the next
group of zombies that came lurching by. Anymore, he knew, than she could
herself.

His voice was soft when he answered, almost unrecognizable
from the low growl that seemed to be his normal tone of late. "Because sometimes we're not too late, Liebste.
Sometimes...." Even if they both knew that they almost always were these
days.

Tossing a pile of dirt toward the wall where the zombie's
body lay crumpled, she shook her head and turned back to Kurt. "How much
longer do you think it'll be before we run out of food, before these fuckers
find us and kill us too?"

"I think we can survive for months on what Herr
Professor had packed away in the sub-basements," he answered, matter of
fact. "Man preached universal peace and love, but it looks like he was
preparing for Armageddon. We can hold out as long as it takes." He tossed
another shovelful, complete with a clump of tangled roots he'd hacked out, over
the lip of the grave as he met her eyes, not saying the rest, what they both
knew. That if they couldn't then a clean death at the hands of a friend was the
best they could hope for.

He remembered Scott's face when he'd realized what had
happened, that he'd been infected. Remembered how calm he'd been when he'd told
them what needed to be done. How completely unrecognizable he'd been from the
strong, commanding leader they'd all grown accustomed to leaning on before Herr
McCoy had finally admitted defeat in his efforts to find a 'cure'...how
peaceful he'd looked when they'd lowered him into the first grave on the back
lawn. The first, but not the last.

Shaking his head, as though that could clear away the
memories, he threw one last shovelful of dirt and roots from the hole before
looking up at Rogue. "I think this is deep enough."

He reached up a hand to her, saving the energy that even
such a short teleport would cost him. He hadn't eaten since this morning and
there was no telling how much energy he'd have to expend before they got back
and ate again. "Let's lay them to rest and then finish this patrol."

Rogue

    �

It was just plain wrong. Wrong that they were burying kids, wrong that they had
to hide out underground again, eating rations that tasted like shit... Wrong
that, oh yeah, they'd killed some of their friends.
She'd seen Scott start to turn, been there, been part
of the decision that it was better to kill him than to let him become one of
them. Been part of the process of killing him. It'd
been a decision that Scott himself more than supported, but as she held his
hand, knocking him unconscious so that the claw to the brain that Logan
delivered wouldn't hurt, she'd felt the doubt, the pain, the worry. And there
was nothing that she could do about it. There was nothing that any of them
could do now except for try to keep on top of the zombies, stay one step ahead
of them. For some reason, the fact that the zombies were
completely mindless, just creatures of pure habit, made it so much harder.
She wasn't even sure why they bothered with any of it anymore.

"Because sometimes we're not too late, Liebste. Sometimes...."

Right. Sometimes. Rarely. She shook her head, appreciative of the attempt but
completely aware of the facts. Sometimes wasn't enough. They were screwed. Royally screwed every which way. All they were sure of
anymore were each other, and the number of people that that classification
encompassed was getting smaller and smaller as the days wore on. And as much as
Kurt tried to grab at the tiny strands of hope that he could find, he was
wrong. More and more, they'd been getting there too late. Just in time to watch
a zombie who looked eerily similar to her Drama teacher from school or the bag
boy at the grocery store eat someone else.

"I think we can survive for months on what Herr Professor had packed
away in the sub-basements. Man preached universal peace and love, but it looks
like he was preparing for Armageddon. We can hold out as long as it
takes."

She tilted her head toward him, catching his eyes and frowning. "So long as it only takes months."

Not to mention the fact that the food that'd been packed away in the mansion
wasn't exactly the tastiest... better than goddamn brains, though. She frowned
as her "shovel" hit the root of a tree, reaching down and pulling the
root out of the way, watching almost sadly as the plant life left a crumbling
hole in the ground. Everything was dying. Not just the people. Her eyes never
left the hole in the wall of the grave as she tilted her head toward Kurt. "I
think this is deep enough."

She nodded silently, eyes drifting briefly to the children... God, they were
just little kids. Little kids who had wanted nothing more than to enjoy
themselves. Than to be kids. Sighing, she
lifted herself into the air and landed beside the hole, grabbing Kurt's hand
and trying not to let the corners of her mouth twitch into a small smile as
bare flesh touched bare flesh. She pulled him out of the hole, looking away
before she actually let herself be happy about something. She had no right. No
right to be excited, proud even, that she'd gotten some semblance of control.
Not when they were burying children, not when said control had been at the
expense of a woman's life. Gritting her teeth, she turned from him and stepped
toward the bodies, stomach turning ever so slightly again. No thinking about
it. Just get it over with.

"You want the heads or feet?" She could easily have laid the kids in
the graves herself- even dead, they weren't that heavy to her, but Kurt
constantly insisted that they be careful, respectful. As if it was the dead
kids that needed the help. They were dead. Didn't have to
worry anymore about being turned into something that ate other people.
Dead was almost better. Almost. Wasn't
the kids who needed their compassion at that point. But it made Kurt feel
better, and that was something. Some days, it was everything. They went about
their business, laying each of the children gently into the grave, and there
was nothing that she could think of to do or say that would make the situation
any less disturbing. Well, maybe one thing. "Think we can call it quits
after this. Head back."

Even that wasn't nearly as comforting as it should have been.

Kurt

    �

It
was a feeble effort at reassurance, he knew it as well as she did and believed
it as little, but it was all he had to offer.

"So long as it only takes months."

"It's going to have to, isn't it?" he replied,
tossing out a couple more mounds of dirt before bracing his shovel against the
earth at his feet and asking her for a hand up.

He'd told her once, a lifetime ago it seemed, that
sometimes you just had to accept what you could have and make it enough. The
context had been different of course, and his lips quirked in a faint, brief
smile at the memory but it was just as applicable now as it had been then. The
only thing they could control in this world gone mad was how they responded and
the only thing they could do short of turning their faces to the wall was to
fight and keep fighting until there was no way to go on...and maybe, somehow,
that would be enough. It didn't really matter if it was or wasn't, though,
since it was the only option left.

There were no options left to them, he thought sadly, following her gaze to the small still
bodies nearby. Then she was floating lightly from the hole and reaching down to
pull him up behind her. It was strange, he thought sadly, that he could more
easily remember a time when she'd been earthbound, when touching her skin had
been an impossible fantasy and he'd been the stronger of them, than he could a
time when the wind hadn't smelled of carrion and the sight of a child's mangled
remains would have sent him running for the bushes to empty his stomach.

"You want the heads or feet?" she asked,
as he bent once more to straighten broken limbs, settle small hands across
still breasts. He appreciated the courtesy. Knew she could have tossed them all
into the grave they'd dug like so many broken toys but that she didn't for him.

It was only a matter of minutes to lay their tiny charges
in the bosom of the earth and he paused, crouched at the edge of the grave,
eyes once more fixed on the empty swing as he fingered the small gold cross on
its chain at his neck.

<Eternal rest, grant unto
them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May the souls of the
faithful departed through the mercy of God rest in peace. Amen,> he murmured
quietly, almost under his breath, as he let a handful of dirt sift onto the
upturned faces below.

Eternal rest...there were days when
that seemed a mercy he'd pay any price for. Some days, but
not today. With a sigh, he surged to his feet, lifting his 'shovel' and
joining Rogue in the filling of the small, sad grave. Hopefully they'd still
see a mound of earth next time they patrolled this section of town, not a
gaping hole and tumbled bones. They'd learned early to bury the victims deep,
though it never seemed to be deep enough.

"Think we can call it quits after this. Head
back," she offered, and he looked up gratefully as he patted a last 'spadeful' of earth into place. They really should continue
their patrol - there might be others - but he was tired and heartsick and she
was as well. He could see it in her eyes.

He nodded acquiescence as he tossed his impromptu shovel
away. She'd make them more if they needed them again, and they would. For
now...he pushed a filthy hand through not quite as filthy hair before stepping
to her side, reaching out to brush his palm - his palm, not the fur-covered
back of his hand - against her cheek.

Turning his back on the freshly dug grave he leaned in to
brush his lips where his hand had passed. He'd say a proper prayer for them,
later, but for now they'd done what they could. He wondered if, in the end, there
would be anyone left to do the same for them.

"Let's go, Liebste,"
he finally answered. Another quick kiss and then she was wrapping impossibly
strong arms around him and they were lifting into the air.

Rogue

    �

She tried not to act bored as Kurt bowed to pray over
the bodies, tried not to outright yawn. It was futile, just like burying the
bodies neatly. Wouldn't stop the zombies from coming back for them, wouldn't
help them. They'd dug the hole deep. As far as those kids were concerned, they
had done all that anyone, God included, could do. If there
was a God. Which, clearly, there wasn't. And fuck, if God did
exist, he sure as hell sucked at figuring out when a little divine intervention
was needed. Surely the dead coming to life and eating the living was reason
enough to do something. If there was ever a time for some big old man in white
to descend from the heavens and rescue "his people," that was it.
Unless he'd taken a good look around and decided that everyone was too fucked over
for even his help. Didn't matter. None of it did,
really. All that mattered was the fact that they were still alive, even though
friends- family- had perished at the hands of the creatures. Once Kurt
finished, she started to fill the hole back in, giving
him a somewhat weak smile. At least they could go home.

She watched as he finished up with the grave, tossing his sign away and running
his hand through his short, curly hair. He looked exhausted. Not that she could
blame him, she was pretty damn tired herself, but it wasn't easy seeing him
like that. The contrast between the Kurt she'd known for so long and the Kurt
she knew now was almost too stark to think about. He reached to touch her face,
and her hand followed his, holding it as he slowly dropped it and replaced it
with his lips. It seemed like as soon as she'd gotten what she had always
wanted, the world decided to pack up for a nice little trip to hell.

"Let's go, Liebste." As he kissed
her again, she wrapped her arms around him, nodding. One last look toward the
grave and she took off, heading straight for Saint Pete's.
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Survival