Weapon X: Man or Animal

Chapter 4 

He wished, almost desperately that he knew what he was getting into when he first came to these clowns and offered his assistance. Strings attached and the general observation that he doesn’t work in a team all that well. But Victor has been what he considered well-behaved for the ten months he went along with them, he followed their foolish dream-world rules and got the job done. Time and time again, hell he even played ball with them when they needed the extra person on one of their little X-Men save the world missions.

He surprised them with his ingenuity and ability to get things done with militaristic precisions. Made sense though, he’s been a soldier for so many years. So many. They surprised him with the fact that they could actually get work done and bring down their targets with minimum civilian casualties and actually not look entirely stupid while they did so. Their costumes were questionable, and left little to imagination. He didn’t mind it with the woman, but the men. Don’t get him started.

He refused to wear those stupid tight black leather things that fit entirely too well.

And now, now he was sitting in a room at the mansion with a clear show of damages done by an attack his brother was made to do on a place he once called home. If Victor understood things correctly, and it was seldom that he didn’t. He wasn’t stupid; his arrogance only gave off that image. It was better for him and worse for his enemies. His room was clean, tidy and mostly kept untouched. Claw marks on the dresser where he leant against and dug his claws in. He did so in order to center himself. He had to. This place, this situation caused him stress like you wouldn’t believe.

Victor Creed never dealt with stress all that well. And for ten months he was dealing with it. And refused help in every turn. He wasn’t here too better himself, he wasn’t here for himself. He was here to help a brother. A brother who didn’t even remember him! A brother who didn’t remember Victor’s sacrifices! The wars they fought side by side! Both of them growing up in the wild! Both of them being friends and brothers and a pack in general!

Snarling angrily he gripped the arms of the chair he sat in. His body was healed, but his mind was running wild, and he felt gentle pokes as a nosy no good punching bag of a psychic kept checking up on him. He swore if that man kept pushing his luck, he’d be learning what his intestines looked like tied in a neat bow! Victor was shocked that he didn’t learn about three months ago after a failed attempt at finding his brother when he tried to do the whole mind thing with him.

'Victor paced angrily; he was dressed in nothing more than normal clothes. Black pants. Black shirt, army boots and his favorite long black jacket. At least he was wearing the general theme shade for this group of geeks. Tucked in his shirt was two sets of dogtags, one was his and one was his brother’s. James Howlett was the name on them, faded just like his brother’s scent on them. No man or frail was allowed to touch his dogtags. They never survived to say sorry if they did. 

The Blue-Rug tended to injuries, and sympathetically listened to poorly hidden sobs and sorrows. Victor didn’t show any emotion, he was as cold as steel. Why should he show his emotions like these weaklings?! He left the infirmary after he got a clean bill of health, like there was any doubt. Sneering at them as the door closed behind him he stormed his way to the elevator. He was having an unlucky day, why, because the head of this whole operation came rolling out of the elevator he was going to use.

Victor didn’t grace him with a word as he moved to enter the elevator, he needed a drink when Xavier’s voice caught his attention, 

“I’m sorry that we didn’t find your brother Victor.” Victor sneered as he turned around. 

“Yer sorry? Wow, that just makes everything so much better. Thanks pal.” Victor growled out, and cursed himself while he did so. He felt light touches to his mind, like feathers brushing across his brain itself. His growl increased in volume.

“There’s no need for this and there’s no shame in talking about it, but there is absolutely no need for the sarcasm and attitude. Everyo…” Xavier’s voice was cut off with a gasp as Victor lifted him right out of his wheelchair like he was nothing more than a light rag doll. 

“Let me get one thing straight, you ain’t gonna be doin’ that shrink shit with me. You ain’t goin’ to talk to me ‘bout anyone else’s hurt feelings or anything like that. ‘cause quite frankly I don’t give a rats ass about it. So go be the white night for others. I ain’t interested.” Victor growled angrily right in his face.

“Sabretooth! You put the Professor down now!” A recognizable voice ordered. The so-called fearless leader. Fearless his ass, when he was a nothing more than a boy Victor made him shit himself just by being in front of his cage!'

Needlessly said, the good ol’ Professor had a lot of work to do to clean up the mess. He didn’t mention anyone else’s sorrows or regrets at not finding Jimmy. No one talked about that around him, but they forget that he could hear the sound of normal breathing up to around two hundred feet away. And most didn’t know that light could make a noise not a loud one, but it was enough for him to hear it. Most forget he has enhanced senses. Helped him in the end, them forgetting and him having them.

How Jimmy was able to live in a school with kids was beyond him. Kids stunk, hormones running high and perfume was bathed in. Glad the children weren’t here though. Victor would have killed a good number of them by now. And that is only due to scents.

Victor had his room next to his brothers, and he hasn’t really figured out if it was for the fact that it was his brother’s room or to torture himself. Victor entered that room just once. Only once. And it was torn apart because of what Xavier called a tantrum. Victor was just venting, better in his brother’s current room then on Summers face. The shit-face was pissing him off! He just doesn’t know how to let go of the past. 

Sneering angrily Victor stood up and stalked out of his room and storming past the white haired frail and the redhead. Jimmy always liked redheads for some foolish reason. Redheads and Japanese frails. He didn’t get his horrible taste in frails from their father’s side of the family that’s for sure. He heard them protest behind him, but he didn’t care. Weak. Stupid. Frail. Woman in his mind was nothing more than useless flesh bags for one use only.

He quickly found himself in the kitchen, he was hungry. He might as well get himself something to eat. And figure out how come it was taking so long to fix his brother. After all, the world’s most powerful psychic was living richly here. Surely he could have done something by now. There wasn’t much to choose from, so he ended up just settling for a sandwich full of meat and butter.

'Victor was crouched down unseen, between him and what was going on was dirty windows and the wind was just right. But still, Jimmy should have spotted him. He got weak, got sloppy. He should have sensed that he was being watched intently. He should have noticed his own brother stalking after him! But no, just revenge. Just that frail. 

“I thought you were the Moon and I was your Wolverine. Turns out you’re the Trickster, and I’m just the fool who got played.” Victor heard his brother say, he heard the brokenhearted sorrow. But all he could think was, serves you right Jimmy.'

Now however, Victor wasn’t entirely sure. He remembered the happiness his brother had in his eyes when he looked at the frail. When he kissed her good-bye before going to work as a normal person when Jimmy wasn’t normal at all. Victor had to admit, he was partially jealous. But that jealousy doesn’t run as deep as his animal does. Doesn’t run as strongly, if anything it just ignites a bloodthirsty need to carve away what he’s jealous about. It was in his nature.

The X-Men were horrified by it. Trembled deep down because of it. And Victor relished in that fact.

They were on a mission, four months prior to finding Jimmy which led to the three weeks they held him below the mansion. Trying to fix him the old fashioned way.

'Victor chuckled, who would have thought that one of the contacts his old colleague used was an upstanding priest and humanitarian. Victor watched as the man panted in pain on the ground, Victor already got lectured and Jean Grey wasn’t here to do her thing. The old fashioned way worked best, especially if the man didn’t talk right away. And he didn’t. Good choice in Victor’s opinion. 

“Sabretooth. That’s enough, we aren’t here to kill him. Or hurt him. Just for information.” The fearless leader commanded, Victor snorted.

“WE tried it your way before, remember. And we walked away with jack shit. My wa…” Victor started to say when he got a face full of a fist. Summers finally snapped and got into his face, snarling at the best a human could while he said, 

“We aren’t going to torture this man, no matter what crimes he did. After all, I’m letting you…” 

“Oh, yer letting me. Is’at it. You are letting me come along despite the fact that you little kids ain’t able to do a decent interrogation without that redhead o’ yours. Despite the fact that you kids ain’t got the spin to get dirty an’ do what needs to be done.” Victor snarled right back, holding himself so that he appeared even larger than he already was and Victor Creed was by no means a small man. 

“Let me tell you this boy, just cause yer a few years older an’ have stubble on yer chin don’ mean you can throw yer weight ‘round with me. Got that, an’ as for how I do things. They work, got it. Yer ways don’t. Simple, now stay out o’ my way. Understood whelp.” Victor snarled out, only the sound of a door creaking tore his attention away from the visor wearing nobody. Cursing slightly Victor walked in the direction of the door, leaving the X-Men stunned. Apparently Jimmy was being soft with the kids, should have toughened them up more than he did. 

A gunshot rang out, hitting Victor square in the chest. Victor chuckled. 

“You cherish yer humanity, don’t ya. I’s why you wear that monkey suit an’ play the good preacher every Sunday. Tryin’ to make up for your sins, eh Father?” Victor taunted as he followed the man deeper into the church’s halls away from the main area and the X-Men who stood they’re doing nothing. Weak. 

“Well let me tell you something. I despise my humanity as much as you seem to cherish yers. And there won’t be any mercy from me.” Victor purred out, knowing his words floated back to the X-Men and not caring if his words sounded in some way or form cliché or movie-worthy. He just didn’t care, it was the truth. That was the only reason he said it.' 

It was in his nature to be cruel, to keep coming and keep hunting and keep killing. It was just how he was. Just like he could be a good brother, a protective older brother and as he was told a tad bit obsessive. But that’s fine, Victor didn’t care. They were brothers, and Victor was good at that role too. So long as his brother didn’t betray him, which he did and Victor showed his younger sibling just how nasty he could be.

Then things went from bad to worse too horrible. Jimmy was covered by Logan; Logan was covered by Wolverine and all of them covered by Weapon X. He now had to find a way to get Jimmy out from under that pile.

Somehow…

Getting up Victor reluctantly wandered back to the elevator. He’s been doing this for the past three weeks and has yet to make it through those doors. He has yet to see his only sibling face-to-face again since they captured him from that place.