Creed's Credo

 When we last left off, Remy was bleeding badly on the bed in the hotel and

Logan was pissed.

Logan grabbed his cell as he tried to stop the bleeding once he got back into the hotel room. Remy looked damn bad. He was pale and the blood was just

pooling around him as the young Cajun struggled to breath. His heart pounding, he dialed 911 and prayed to a God he wasn't sure existed, that Remy made it.



Victor panted as he ran, throwing off the jacket that was tattered beyond repair. Grabbing his pack of Camels from his shirt pocket, he slowed down his pace, looking back before coming to a complete stop to put the cigarette into his mouth and light up. God he felt sick. He loved Remy damn it...and he wouldn't know what to do if he killed the younger man.



He didn't know how to  show that he loved him, but Lord knew that he did. He just wasn't good at the whole love thing. Hell...if it hadn't been for Remy and Birdy, he probably wouldn't have ever believed in it. Hell...it wasn't until Remy that he thought that Love was just a pipe-dream. Something that people made up and made a fuss about during Valentine's day just to give the American government and businesses an excuse to make money.



Taking a long drag from the cigarette, he closed his eyes and began walking again, more slowly this time since he knew that no one was after him. Hell...he

wasn't sure why he ran from Logan...Logan wouldn't be able to do anything more then kick his ass...which would be nothing less then he deserved at the moment. And it wasn't like the cops could keep him in prison...he'd just kill 'em as soon as they tried to cuff him.



Sighing softly, he rubbed his face wearily and kicked at a pebble on the side of the road. Normally the dark night and the cool air would bring him at least a

little peace, but now...now it just left him feeling hollow inside. And it made him see the things he didn't really want to see.



At the moment, the road was no longer road, but instead a gaping hole that gave off a rather disorienting amount of heat and nauseating scent of sulfur that

made him want to puke and pass out. At the sight of the hellfire that seemingly leapt out of what used to be concrete in his vision, he began panting and

started running again.



He had to get somewhere safe. He couldn't just keep running. It wouldn't matter if he ran or not...his own demons would always catch up to him...would always claw and eat away at him and his seemingly immortal soul.



------------------------------------------------------



It seemed to be forever later when the ambulance made it's way to the destroyed hotel room. He'd pay for the damages, he didn't really care about that. Remy

was almost passed out from the blood loss, though he did manage to give the younger man just a little of his own blood, slitting his own wrists and mixing

it in with Remy's in hopes of healing at least some of the minor wounds with his healing factor.



It seemed to help at least a little, but still Remy was in bad shape. The paramedics brought in the gurney and gently placed Remy on it, ignoring the blood as they carefully put him onto the ambulance, putting a heavy amount of gauze on the wounds before compressing them, allowing the older man to ride to

the hospital with them.



Logan gripped Remy's limp hand painfully tight and closed his eyes, trying to keep the beast under control at the smell of the blood, his blood lust flaring

to life. He began praying for help, praying that they would be able to make it to the hospital in time and that he would be able to keep his desire to kill at

bay.



The ride to the hospital, though only 10 minutes, seemed like it took to long. Even with the sirens blaring and the machines beeping all around him, all he

could hear was Remy's labored breathing and the slowing sound of his heartbeat. And it made him worry that he would lose him.



As soon as they reached the hospital, Logan jumped out and the paramedics rushed Remy into the ER, where the nurses and doctors immediately rushed him into the OR for emergency surgery to repair some internal injuries that they were certain was there.



Surgery lasted 4 hours and Remy had died on the table three times. Each time he was revived. Once they closed him up, the nurses and doctors sighed softly

before wheeling him into the ICU unit. One of the doctors went out to Logan and let the man know what was going on and what had happened.



"Mr. Howlett? Remy's out of surgery now and we just put him into the ICU. He's a very lucky man sir. He had a lot of blood loss and we'll be pumping some blood

into him, but we managed to revive him a few times while he was on the table. He passed away three times, but the good news is he's back and hopefully well on the way to recovery. We managed to get the heavily damaged areas, and the most of the bruises will go away on there own. We'd like to keep an eye on him for at least a week, but after that I think he'll be good to go home. He's resting right now, but if you would like, you may go in to see him. I would say that

visiting hours are from 11-7, but...it doesn't seem like they would apply to you," he said on a kind smile. "Let me show you to the room."



Logan sighed with relief before swallowing hard, rubbing his face tiredly. Nodding, he stood up on shaky legs and followed the doctor into the room where

Remy lay, monitor beeping slowly, but steadily; the IV drip, morphine drip and blood tubes ran down the side of the bed and into his arms while an incubation

tube breathed for Remy. He'd never seen the young man look so bad. Or so young.



Going over to the side of the bed, he took a seat and took Remy's hand, squeezing it gently and brushing his lips against the young man's knuckles. "Hey baby," he whispered softly. "Glad to see you're still with us. Don't worry. I won't be leavin' yer side, 'cept to go to the bathroom or maybe a cuppa coffee. Thank God yer alright," he said before closing his eyes, resting his head against Remy's hand.



If he ever found Vic, he'd kill him...and that was a promise he would definitely try to keep.



--------------------------------------------------------



An hour of running. An hour, and the demons still howled in his head, his lungs burned from trying to escape them. He didn't know for sure where he was...he'd

been running blindly since that horrid vision of the gaping maul trying to swallow him whole.



Looking around, he suddenly saw a church. Now, he wasn't really one to believe in God or anything, but something, anything, had to be better then being

tortured by the demons inside. Something had to stop the inhuman screams and visions of his mind.



Panting harshly, he swallowed to wet his parched throat and walked slowly to the church. It seemed the church was getting farther and farther away until he

reached the doors. Reaching for the handle, he sighed and pulled open the doors before quietly stepping inside. It was dark inside, but he didn't really care.



Walking up to the front of the church, he glanced up and saw a wooden figure of Jesus, hanging on the cross with a crown of thorns piercing his brow, a deep

gash in his side, and nails piercing his hands and feet, staring down at him mournfully as the blood trickled down his face and body.



Shuddering, he closed his eyes and fell to the ground, bowing his head. The image shifted between Jesus and Remy and he couldn't help the tears that sprang

to his eyes. It was his fault. He was the one that hurt Remy and he knew it. If Remy died, it was on him and he would lose one of the few people on this

miserable planet that made life worth living.

A few silent tears slipped down his face and he was startled from his thoughts at the almost silent footsteps entering the church. A clearing of a throat and

he glanced up on a growl.



"Good evening my son. I was just coming to lock the doors, but you seem to have a need. Would you like to talk?"



Victor blinked. Did he? Did he want to talk? Could he? After a few moments of deliberation, he nodded.



The priest smiled gently at him and went up to him, rosary in his hands as he sat. "So tell me, my son. What lies so heavily in your heart and mind that

made you come here tonight?" he asked in a soft voice.



Victor looked at him and sighed. "I...I ain't used ta talkin' 'bout anything. You'll prolly call the cops on me or somethin'...but I gotta get rid of the guilt. Damn near killed the man I love today. Didn't mean to, but...but he's datin' another man I consider my brother and it damn near kills me seein' him so happy with him. They're both happy. Together. And I want the man I love back.



And after I nearly killed 'im, I ran. Ran like a fuckin' coward. I just...I couldn't take it. I was...am...afraid. I don't want 'im gone. Just don't want him with my...with my ex-friend. See, the man that he's with, we were like brothers. Fought together, lived together as the best of friends. We was in the military together, so that's how we got so close. Hell, we were raised together. We depended on each other.



Dunno what happend between us...we just...sorta drifted apart. Now we wanna kill each other. The kid just got between us and...and yeah. I stabbed him. And

instead of stickin' around to make sure he was alright, I ran.



I'm a killer. I shouldn't really care if he lives or dies...but he...he sorta saved me. A long time ago. I never believed in love until he came 'round...but once he showed me what that was, I didn't wanna let it go. But I had to. I knew he'd hate me if he knew what kinda monster I was. So I let him go. Didn't mean I stopped lovin' 'im, but in order ta let him go, I had ta make him hate me."



The priest listened silently, nodding his head. "I see. Well, it seems ta me that you need to first, forgive yourself, and secondly, ask him and God for

 forgiveness. Are you willing to find him? Ask him for forgiveness?



Are you willing to lay your guilt and fears before Him? Our lord Jesus shed his own blood for you. All your sins were already forgiven before you made them. So

it's up to you to forgive yourself...and ask your ex-friend and ex-lover for forgiveness my son. Go. Find him. And may the blessings of the Lord be upon you," he said softly.



Victor nodded and looked up. "You mind if I just...stay here for a lil' bit? Just...sorta clear my head and work up the courage ta say the words I need ta say to 'im?"



"Of course not my child. Take all the time you need."



"Thanks. Oh uh...stupid question, but where am I?"



The priest smiled and told him before leaving the sanctuary.



Victor stayed for about another half hour before getting up and leaving the church. Once he stepped outside, he felt more at peace with himself then he had in a long time. It felt good. Strange, but good. It was weird, not having to worry about being swallowed by his guilt or worry about his demons chasing after him.



Slowly, he made his way to the hospital near the hotel they had ruined. Two hours later, he was still at peace, even as he entered the hospital. When he entered Remy's room however, it was a different story. 

Seeing Remy connected to all those machines, the intubation tube and all the drips, made all the guilt, fear and everything else, rush back to him. Closing his

eyes, he ran his hand through his hair.



Logan's scent hung heavily in the room, but he wasn't in there for now, so he opened his eyes again and went over. Taking Remy's hand, he gently ran a finger over the Cajun's knuckles. 

"Hey kiddo," he whispered, letting his other hand drift up to comb gently through Remy's auburn hair. "It's me. Vic. Just...just stopped by ta tell you that I'm really sorry. And I still love you damn it. I was just to chicken shit to admit it. I love you Remy...and I'll do anything to make it up to you. Even if it means lettin' you go. Or lettin' Logan beat the shit outta me for a change. Don't really wanna let you go though...so I think I'll go fer the second option here.

Either way, I'll do whatever you want, if you'll just fergive me. Never meant to hurt you...definitely don't want ya dyin' on me. Yer one of the few people in my life that make this shitty life even worth livin'. Dunno what I'd do without you. I'd be so fuckin' lost."

He paused his speech for a moment and sighed. "Anyways, I'll get outta yer hair now. I'll leave you my number babe. Call me and let me know what ya want me to do."

Kissing Remy's temple, he let the man's hand go before going over to the table and grabbing a pen and paper.     

"TAG. YOUR IT RUNT," he wrote, before grabbing another piece of paper and writing down his number. Taking the second sheet of paper, he placed it by Remy's head before grabbing the first one and a piece of tape, taping it to the door and leaving.

(TBC? Up to you guys and Cee if she has time to write.  Hopefully I'll beg getting more time to write more soon! Let me know what you guys think?)