California Gold
As usual this is a work of fan fiction; I don't make any money from writing this. I don't own them; Marvel Entertainment, Inc, Fox Entertainment and Far Seas Productions do.
A new idea that hit me overnight…okay maybe not overnight but it's been stewing for a few weeks since the new movie. OOC alert and thank GOD someone sees Victor the way I do.
Chapter 1.
San Francisco, 1854
She clutched the small piece of bread and meat under her jacket as she dashed around the corner, hoping the stall owner hadn't seen her. She'd not taken a risk like this in months but she'd been so sick the last few weeks she needed the food.
She had to have been weak; she didn't notice them surrounding her in the alley.
"Hey Wildcat, what you got there…got enough to share." John growled at her, yanking on her arm and causing her to drop her prizes.
The other boys scrambled and grabbed the food as John pushed her back into a pile of trash. "Thanks scamp, we were hungry." He laughed as they ran off. She let out a low growl that ended in a broken sob.
She'd risked everything to steal that, and now it was gone. Her nails itched and she scraped the wall behind her with her new claws. They'd developed right after she recovered from this last illness, she'd been able to hide them so far but she didn't know why they'd grown. She covered her face with her hands wishing her father were still alive as the tears slipped between her fingers.
"That's her." She heard before something hit her hard on the head and everything went black.
Xxxxxx
San Francisco, Sometime in the Future
He waited, leaning against a support of the bridge as the Brotherhood arrived for the assault. He'd been lying low, trying to figure out exactly what was wrong with Jimmy Boy, but the Runt's memory loss was a mystery. He knew it had to do with the backstabbing bastard, Stryker, but he knew that his kid brother would remember some day.
"Hey Mags." He growled softly as the helmeted leader of the Brotherhood paused next to him.
"I don't need you for this. Go find a hole to hide in, coward." Magneto snapped.
Victor growled and scraped his claws through the steel of the support behind him.
"We'll see who's a coward old man." He said as he jumped over the bridge railing. "I don't need you – or your war. I make my own."
He landed in the water, near the small boat he'd tied to the support before climbing up the bridge. He pulled the string and started the motor. He didn't need those idiots anyway; he didn't need a cause, just something to fight.
He was almost to shore when the water started pulling back. He'd deliberately ignored the noises of the battle behind him and he glanced back and saw the walls of water rising over the Rock in the bay. He didn't know what mutant was causing it but he knew when that water was released it was going to flood the waterfront areas. He jumped from the boat and swam the short distance to shore and started to run for high ground. He'd had enough water after the damned Statue; he didn't need another several days under water.
Xxxxx
San Francisco, 1854
"Hold her." The woman with bright red hair shouted. Wildcat struggled harder against the four women holding her to the bed. They'd forced her into a tub of scalding hot water, scrubbing all the dirt and grime off her skin, and now they were holding her down while the red haired woman examined her in a most humiliating way.
"Well, that won't do at all…get me the horn." A sixth woman handed the red head a bloodstained bull horn. Wildcat screamed as the woman inserted the horn and twisted it. "That will take care of that." The woman handed the horn back to the sixth woman. "I didn't want to have to charge for that, and now we won't have to worry about anymore freakish brats like you."
The other women let her go, and left the room.
"I've got clients that will pay well to use an animal like you." The red head snarled as she left the room locking it behind her. Wildcat screamed again and clawed at the door.
Xxxxx
San Francisco, Sometime in the Future
He dug his claws in to the sea wall as another wave crashed against him from the collapsed wall of water. He snarled and sputtered as he was able to breathe again. He hated salt water in his lungs, it burned and it would take months to clear all the dried salt from his system. He reached up to grab another stone in the wall to try to pull himself up away from the rising water and felt the stone slip. He snarled, and reached for another rock, grumbling about shoddy workmanship and poor maintenance by public servants as another wave hit him forcing him against the loose stone, and pushing both inward.
He dropped into the void, water splashing as he sputtered and stood. The room was half filled with water and he stopped at the old furniture, covered in familiar claw marks. He didn't recognize the room, but all the signs seemed to indicate he'd been there before. He reached out and stroked one row of claw marks and realized they were too close together to be his.
The movement from the corner startled him, and he almost missed catching it – whatever it was – as it tried to rush past him and out the hole, just as another wave crashed against the wall, pushing more water back in.
He grabbed it by what seemed to be the waist and threw it over his shoulder. He'd examine it later, right now he needed to get the hell out of here. He waited for the next wave and then grabbed the stones above the one that had collapsed with his free hand and pulled both of them out of the hole. The creature on his shoulder couldn't have weighed more than fifty or sixty pounds at the most. He climbed the rest of the way up the wall, only hit twice by crashing waves, once nearly loosing his grip on his cargo.
At the top of the sea wall he dropped behind the protective lip as another wave crashed over, drenching them both again but without the crushing force now that he had the stone between him and the water. He ran away from the wall and down the city street, slipping between two buildings as another wave hit the wall. Sheltered from the spray and water he finally took a look at his cargo.
She couldn't be more than fifteen or sixteen years old but it was hard to tell, her body was emaciated, and he honestly didn't know how she was keeping body and soul together, until he noticed the cuts on her arms healing, not quite at the rate his would, but faster than humanly possible. The last wave crash had knocked her unconscious and he threw her over his shoulder again and went looking for a convenient means of transportation.
Xxxxxxxx
San Francisco, 1906
Wildcat cringed as she was hit again. She bared her teeth and snarled, claws swiping at the man in the room with her.
He didn't even speak, just doubled his fist and pounded against the side of her head. She shook her head trying to clear the dizziness as he grabbed her and forced her to her knees on the dirt floor, forcing her head down, pungent liquid making mud under her cheek as he relieved his bladder over her before finishing what he'd paid for. She mewed softly in pain unable to keep silent and he hit her again in the head for the noise. This time she passed out.
"…not worth what I paid you, I can get that from any woman." The man was snarling as she came to.
"Not without facing charges. Things have changed." It was the second person that made her cringe. He was the son of the original red headed woman, Wildcat had lost track of time but she knew he had been a young man when his mother had died and left him her brothel – and Wildcat. Now he was getting old, but not too old to use the whip on her when she didn't make the clients happy.
"I want a challenge; it doesn't even bother to really fight back." The client stormed out of the room and Wildcat cringed as the whip lashed across her bare back. She knew that it would be the same thing tomorrow, different client, just as it had been for longer than she could remember.
Xxxxxxx
Somewhere between San Francisco and Seattle
Victor looked back at the creature sleeping in the back seat. Now that he was away from the burning salt water, his sense of smell had come back. She smelled of blood and sex and starvation. He didn't know who she was, or why she'd been in that small room, but he was going to find out.