-This is my first story so please be gentle

-The story has a pretty set plot and I will be trying to make it run as smoothly as possible so please give any opinions.

-The story will follow Victor Creed and Abigail Darby. They both are just trying to find a little purpose in life.

Through All Things

His whole body hurt, at least he thought it did. He tried to move his arms but felt the numbness overwhelm him. He fought the urge to scream knowing it would come out much louder than he intended, so he gritted his fangs and looked at the damage. His whole body was wrecked. His arms were at strange angles and his leg was impaled by one of the boat's metal poles. He knew he was lucky, even though he sure didn't feel it. Had he not been a mutant this would be a lot worse.

He allowed his body a minute to recoup before he tried his next idea. He felt his regenerative powers begin to wash over his body like a cooling agent over a burn. He then decided it was time to get up. He rested his head against the coolness of the metal floor to slow his heart rate. He then began the mantra, "Do it, Do it, DO IT!" His whole body was on fire as he lifted himself from the mangled metal of the boat. He finally allowed one strangled sign of weakness as the metal pole was yanked from his bloodied leg "Damn it!" Only one sign of weakness was all he would allow himself.

The next plan would have to be how to get off this God forsaken island. As he felt his body slowly begin to heal, he knew he could probably climb on one of the cargo ships heading back to Manhattan. It was his only option. There was no way he was going to swim from Ellis Island all the way to Manhattan. Using his good leg, he hobbled silently to the cargo hole below the ship. There were a few looks passed his way by a couple, curious workers; but they were quickly silenced when a muted growl and angry black eyes shot out from under the hood covering his face. He found something soft to lay down on under the dock and began to drift off into a silent slumber. His last thoughts, before drifting off, were that of Wolverine and how next time that piece of nothing would regret ever causing him this much pain.

He woke up after what felt like hours of sleep to find he was still under the cargo ship, and his body still felt like it was on fire. He also noticed how much blood was pooled around him and got a shock when he realized it was his own. Realizing his body had no energy to rejuvenate on, he knew he needed to eat something. He knew he would heal eventually, it would just take awhile before it was fully healed with no energy. His body would never die, he knew that. Bleeding himself only caused pain when he tried but never death. Starving himself also did nothing but cause pain; and after five months of trying, he figured it wasn't going to work. Pain was all he ever felt during those times of trying to end it all. God just wouldn't let him die. Oh yeah, he believed in God. He just didn't understand why he hated him so much. Or why he hated all of the mutant kind. Erik told him there was no God for mutants, but he knew He just hated them, like all the rest of those cockroaches called "Humans".

He slowly began to stand after his reverie and decided to attempt to find food. He knew he couldn't kill a human, at least not without Erik's approval. Then as he thought about Erik he realized they were no were to be found. Who was he to tell him, Sabortooth, not to kill a human. He walked out of the cargo whole and began to walk down the street with the hood firmly in place. The hood wasn't for protection or because he felt ashamed, it was there just in case. As he began walking his view of the area came into focus. He was surrounded by large buildings and street vendors. "How long have I been walking?" He was in the middle of the city. He also realized what a site he must have been. He was at least 6'6; covered in dirty, baggy clothes, and had a hood pulled over his head. And man was he getting some stares. His hearing could even pick up the whispers from the people who passed him.

"God, I thought they caught the Unabomber?"

"He must be a mutant.

"Don't look at him, honey. You don't know what he might be capable of."

He heard the whispers and the jabs. He knew how they felt and if they knew what he was capable of they would shut their weak, pathetic mouths. As he passed a butcher shop, he suddenly realized just how hungry he was. He also realized he didn't have enough strength to hunt for any "real" food. So he decided to take the easy way and just steal it. It was an easy thought. Just go in, grab some meat, and scare the hell out of whoever tried to stop him. He walked into the butcher, grabbed the biggest side of beef he saw, gave one final growl at the owner standing at the counter watching the scene unfold, and left. It was that easy. Until he realized they had an emergency button under the counter, and the owner had just pushed it. One last word escaped his dried and bloodied lips before he took off into an unstable run, "Hell."

"Tell me what happened here, Michaels," she stated it clearly and coldly. You couldn't show emotion in situations like this.

"Good morning, Detective Darby." Michaels chimed in a cheery voice. It appeared too cheerful for Abigail Darby under these circumstances. She had been called to another mutant, murder crime scene; and she had to admit they were starting to get to her.

"What happened here, Michaels?" she knew she said it a little forcefully, but she just wanted to get this over with.

"Well, we asked around to see if anyone saw anything."

"Did they?" she was starting to get impatient with his constant way of beating around the bush, "What did they see, Michaels?!"

"Well, a bunch of older guys came in here, started messin' the place up. The mutant girl asked them to leave, they called her 'a piece of trash mutey', and shot her in the chest once and the stomach twice." his voice trailed off when he noticed Abby wasn't listening anymore and was simply staring at the young girl. The girl couldn't have been over twenty. She looked like she used to have a beautiful light blue color to her skin, until those pieces of crap came and shot her to pieces. Her eyes were the color of a sunset, with an orange center and small glints of yellowish, blue specks around the center. Then as Abby began to really look at the girl, she discovered the girl had a small lump under her shirt.

"Holy God Michaels! The girl was pregnant!" Her whole body went numb as she placed her gloved hand on top of the young girl's stomach. She felt the tears burn the back of her eyes as a warning of their imminent release. "I have to get some air. Will you call the coroner and get this cleaned up." She knew her last request came out as nearly a stifled sob, but she just needed to get out of there.

"Yeah, of coarse Abby…um do you need anything?" His voice was that of a confused child. Michaels was pretty new and she knew it would take him awhile to get to the place she was at emotionally and physically, but he would get there and she knew it. She also pitied him and his nearly child-like innocence.

"No I'm fine, Michaels," her voice would have been full of a sympathetic undertone, but at this point it just sounded hollow, "and yes, we have all the evidence we need."

She walked outside of the store, threw the soiled gloves in the closest public garbage can, leaned her head against the wall, and slid to the cold, solid ground. She needed to feel the cold and have it match the way she felt at that moment. She leaned her head harder against the cold brick behind her and allowed the cold and pain to seep into her troubled mind. The coldness reminded her of the snow and how badly she wished to be anywhere but here. She wanted to feel the snow all around her and allow the purity of it wash all the hatred from her body. Why did the world have to be so heated with hate all of the time. She felt as if her whole life revolved around the fire of hatred and towards people who had no control of how they were. That dead girl had no choice about the way she looked, and they killed her for not hiding her mutation! Abby rubbed her soft hands over her pale face and let them trail into her short brown hair. She knew she had been crying from the wetness on her hands, not because she had felt the tears. She couldn't feel much of anything nowadays.

Her dark green eyes held a blackness about them. Her eyes used to hold the color of the sun. They would shine with the morning and they helped to soften the lines of worry on her face. Now, even she knew, how dark and empty they looked. All the years of cleaning up after these mutant-hate crimes have aged her. She remembered her first day on the force. She knew she wanted to help mutants so, of course she signed up for the Mutant Victims Unit (MVU). She had grown up with her father, who had a genetic mutation, and he was the most loving man she had ever known. She did not inherit any genetic mutation, which she found as odd, but he was her everything. He stayed after her mother left them and raised her the best of his ability until the day he was murdered. She thought she was doing the right thing going into this field. Now all she felt was pain and emptiness. She believed what all the other newbies believed "save the victim and catch the bad guy." She knew now how hard reality really is. The world was tough, but she had to be tougher, and that was the only thing that kept her going everyday.

The sound of the coroner pulling up yanked her out of her reverie. "Hey, Detective. So where's the body." The coroner's voice was nearly as hollow as hers but she would rather examine than clean up any day.

"In the shop, Hal. We really appreciate you getting here so fast. I know how the traffic is at this hour." She figured a little small talk could help take her mind off of the situation at hand.

"Well, we are surprised we got here as quick as we did considering we just got finished cleaning up the body of a twelve-year-old mutant girl."

She was wrong, the small talk didn't help at all. "Dear God! I guess that one was out of my jurisdiction. Thank God I didn't have to deal with that one anyway." The affirmation didn't really help her feel better, but she knew it would have torn her to shreds. She might have also shot the first person she saw after watching a twelve-year-old mutant girl bleed out on top of a pregnant one.

"Yeah, it was pretty bad. The parents had sat on the street with her until the police came, but it by the time they got there she was gone." His voice held no emotion as he repeated what the police had told him.

"It feels like I'm just running blind here, Hal. I just wish everything would stop for just a moment so I could catch my breath…you know." Hal nodded knowingly and headed inside the store to clean up the carnage left by the degenerates. Abby checked with Michael and decided to go get lunch for the two of them alone. She probably wouldn't eat it, but she needed the time to clear her head.

She had walked at least a mile before she came to a place she tolerated eating at. It was a small deli on 3rd called "Raphine's". The man was nice and had pretty fresh ingredients. It was then she noticed all the police cars surrounding the place blocking the entrance to the deli, and for the first time figured that maybe she was just the unluckiest person in the city. She walked up to the nearest police officer who didn't look too busy. As he saw her walking up, he figured it was only polite to offer her one of the many doughnuts he had nestled into his palms. "Good afternoon, Detective." The cockiness in the officer's voice could have been detected by even the slowest person.

"Good afternoon, officer." She allowed the maturity to flow off her voice. She gave him a second to allow her superiority to register in his brain. "What has just happened here?"

"Some mutey broke in and stole some meat. The owner felt he was threatened and called us. Don't worry Detective. It's nothing for you to get your pretty face worried about. We have everything under control." his disrespect was noticed, but she decided she had seen enough violence today to worry about this lump of nothing.

"Well, where is the perp?" the question rolled off her tongue in such seriousness the man nearly choked on his second cup of coffee.

"Uh…we…uh…believe he headed south. We are tracking the perp down canal street." he used every macho head-nod known to man before spitting on the ground in front of her feet to emphasize his complete control of the situation.

"Really? South on canal huh?" she kicked the toe of her left heel to remove any excess spittle he left on her. "cause' I haven't heard a thing about that, considering that is my district." she stared him down as she said it and noticed all the blood drain from his face.

"Excuse me for a second Detective. I…uh have to call the chief."

"Of coarse you do." this time she laid on the cockiness.

She watched him wobble to the car to make the call before she decided to take a closer look around the surrounding area. At this point she needed something other to investigate than an already dead mutant child. She walked down the street a few blocks and checked a few alleys. As she started to turn back she suddenly heard a faint sound. As she listened closer she realized it was labored breathing. "Hello? Is anyone over there. My name is Detective Abigail Darby." as she turned the corner the first thing she noticed was a mass of heaving clothes in the corner of the alley. "I'm not going to hurt you." that's when she heard a deep chuckle come from the still heaving form. She decided to brush it off as an effect from the heavy breathing. "Do you need assistance, sir?" as she asked the question she noticed the figure was beginning to stand. As she began to get closer to the figure, she also noticed how the figure was a man, an extremely large man. She immediately regretted not calling for back up.

The figure turned on wobbly legs and began to walk toward the stupidly stunned detective. He was coming straight towards her and all she could do was pull her gun and yell empty threats, "Stop or I'll shoot!! Stay where you are! I'm warning you!" she aimed the gun, but just before the trigger was pooled the tall, wobbly figure collapsed at her feet. His body was stretched forward almost reaching for her but no effort came from the unconscious figure. She slowly squatted next to the large man and decided to take a closer look, while he was out. She pulled back the hood with one hand, the other still on the gun, and stared at an extremely hairy face. She figured he must be a mutant after staring at his slightly agape mouth to discover a few very sharp teeth. She slowly leaned forward to check his pulse with a calmness which nearly frightened her. She laid her fingers under the soft mane of hair and felt pure muscle underneath along with a slow pulse. "You could rip me to shreds, couldn't ya' big guy." she knew she couldn't leave him here alone. Even a big guy like him couldn't fight off a large group of mutant haters unconscious. She slowly lifted her talkie and called in for Michaels, "Michaels I need you down here at 3rd street. I'm about two blocks north of 'Raphine's'." she kept her voice as calm and quiet as possible. She knew the second she raised it an octave Michaels would freak.

"Darby, you all right?!" she figured he had to have been concerned considering she said she would be back with lunch an hour and a half ago.

"Yes, I'm fine, Michaels. I just need some assistance with an injured civilian. I think there might be some head trauma and maybe internal bleeding. He's unconscious at the moment and he's a mutant so I don't want to call the ambulance." she knew they were just as prejudice as the rest of the city. She had watched too many mutants die from waiting for the ambulance to get there in time. Her own father being one of them.

"Okay, on my way. Try to stop the bleeding as much as possible."

"I know Michaels, I think I have been doing this a little longer." she knew he was just trying to help, but of coarse he had to be a typical male about it.

"Sorry, just trying to help," and as an after thought "know-it-all."

"Just get here, Michaels and quit wasting time." jeese, the man could talk to a wall. She began to slowly examine the injured form in front of her and discovered he had a large blood stain coming from his side. She stood long enough to get closer to the wounded area. She pulled the large jacket he was wearing up, carefully so as not to move him, and discovered it was a large puncture wound. She decided he must have the healing mutation, or he was just tough as nails to not have already died. She took off her jacket she was wearing and with a deep breath covered the bleeding area. The creature remained stagnant and as a second thought, she released the breath she had been holding. She decided to press a little harder as the jacket became soaked with blood. "Oh God, it just keeps coming. How are you still alive?"

She was shocked out of her reverie when a deep voice rattled her concentration, "I ask myself that same question every day of my life." he lolled his head to the side to get a better look at the girl he had tried, unsuccessfully, to kill. "Get your dirty human hands off of me, before I rip em' off." it was an empty threat and she knew it as he laid his head back down to the cold ground. His head was pounding, his body wouldn't stop bleeding long enough to heal itself, and he couldn't move. He knew he needed help, but the fact a human female was the one to give it to him only pissed him off more.

"I don't think you are in any position to make empty threats. You might have head trauma, and you won't stop bleeding. Trust me, you need all the help you can get right now, big guy." she knew he would notice the endearment, but she figured she needed to get him to trust her some how. "I already called my partner for backup. He will help me load you into the back of a car to get you the proper help you need." she applied a little more pressure to the wound when she saw his eyes lull to the back of his head for a bit.

"Oh yeah, I bet you'll help me. All the way to a scientist's lab huh? I'll kill whoever does that to me again. I swear to you, I will find you, and kill you too; you insignificant, little…" he was cut off when she decided to press one good time into the wound and received a good growl from the victim.

"Oooh sorry, just trying to stop the bleeding." he felt her smirking into her words. He didn't need to look up to see it.

He was just about to send out another threat when he heard the sound of a car parking near by. He suddenly had the instinct to run. He couldn't defend himself in this condition, and he wasn't about to trust this weak human to care for him. Like she ever would in the first place. He knew she was a liar, just like the rest of the dirty human race.

She felt him tense under her fingers as Michael began to approach, and she knew he would try to run or fight. She did not expect him to trust her, most of the mutants around here didn't, but she was going to help if he liked it or not. "Over here Michael!" she held on to his arm as he struggled for strength to flee, and she felt his strength through his clothes as she tried to hold him. "Look! I don't expect you to trust me, okay." she saw the battle he was causing behind those big, eyes and knew she held his attention, for a moment anyway. "I can't pretend to understand what you have been through. All I know is I am going to help you whether you like it or not! I am tired, miserable, and emotionally unstable. Please let me help you!" her voice was pleading, and at this point, she didn't even care. She just needed this one thing to make her feel like her life at least had a small purpose.

His eyes widened at her plea. He knew even if he did get up and go, she would be right there annoying him until he finally gave in to her help. Weak humans and their emotions. "Fine, but if I end up in a lab you are the first one I will be coming after." he allowed his voice to growl a little longer than necessary at the last threat.

"I promise, if you end up in a lab I will follow you there to kill me." they made eye contact and allowed the silent vow to pass between them before they decided to acknowledge Michael.