Sabretooth and Birdy belong to Marvel, the rest are mine.
Comment and constructive criticism welcome.
It was a blessing that he still had hot water. The unused taps groaned under the strain of bringing him water to the shower head of the bedroom's bath. Creed washed the grime away, the dust that had managed to cling to him as he walked the empty hallways and rooms of his home looking for clues as to where his wife had fled.
His hair was cut short again, just as she liked it. He ran his fingers back and forth through it then let the spray of water hit his face. The shower ended and he pulled the curtain back to find a fluffy pink towel sitting, waiting for him on the counter. He had not put it there and it was not covered in dust. In fact, it smelled fresh out of the laundry.
Creed threw the bathroom door open and stalked, dripping, through his bedroom, calling out for Emma. There was no one in the house with him. Confused, he made his way back to the bathroom and picked up the towel, rubbing his face into it. Out of the bathroom again, he found pyjamas sitting it the closet where he had last left them. Something stirred the dust behind him out of the corner of his eye. The gears of his mind worked quickly, playing through scenarios where this was all possible. There were no other scents in the house other than his own. No one was with him.
Shapeshifter?
Those pests didn't have scents. But did he really expect one to be posing as a piece of furniture in order to lay all these comforts out for him? Creed left the bedroom and went down to the kitchen, a place where most of his life previously had taken place. No cookies laid out waiting for him here. Instead he found forty dollars cash sitting out. He only had time for a puzzled look before the front door chime announced someone at his front door. He had forgotten to lock the gates back up.
A young kid gave him a half-hearted smile as he opened the door. "That'll be thiry-five fifteen, please." He was opening a heat-pack and pulling out two fresh pizzas. Creed handed over the money wordlessly and took the food offered, shutting the door behind him.
"Emma?"
Like the last few hours, he was met with silence.
ooooo
He had managed to sleep like the dead even though every fibre of his being screamed that something was amiss. One of the pizzas had been 'vegetarian' and while he otherwise wouldn't have touched it, his stomach gnawed in hunger after finishing the first one that had been covered in pepperoni and bacon. It sat heavily in his stomach as he woke up to the sun's rays.
He walked through the house a third time since returning home, nothing new standing out to him this time as he carried a cup of coffee with him. He made a mental note to never nag Emma about her coffee making abilities again as he choked down his own attempt. He suspected most of last night was some grief sticken hallucination since he awoke, once again covered in dust and there was no coffee already waiting for him downstairs.
Creed went back to the office he had shared with both Birdy and Emma at some point, and started up the latter's computer. It was outdated along with the security system now and was slow upon starting. The internet had been shut off a long time ago. He picked up the cordless phone on the desk and while there was a dial tone, there was no service. He pitched the phone down over the desk and started clicking through the folders on her desktop.
He found her photos and started to flip through them. The first few were from their trip to London together as an actually vacation, then there were photos from his birthday a few years back. She had made him wear the birthday hat and he scowled at the camera. It made him laugh now. There were a few pictures of the boys they had taken in to foster care. Little Alex smiled happily showing the picture taker the stuffed rabbit he had been given for Christmas that year. Creed had not kept the promise to visit him, the boy must be in his mid to late teens by now at least.
He found the picture of Birdy that had been used for her obituary. It was from a series when she and Emma had flown to Hawaii together on one of those all-inclusive trips. No wonder she looked so happy, he hadn't been there, harassing her for five whole days by that point.
The pictures went on slowly as the harddrive and software were clunky and old. Creed stopped when he encountered a picture of a man he found familiar.
He had just found his first clue.
ooooo
Somewhere deep within him, he had found a reserve of patience not normally associated with Sabretooth. He made time to do some laundry so he would be able to dress in clean clothes for the trip he suspected he might be taking, and then found a half-full gas can in the garage and added it to the Mercedes. Despite the chaos he had left his house in his last night there, while being kidnapped, everything was back in place, a new motorcycle probably walled up where the old one had been stored and everything.
The car hummed to life as though it had been in use that morning, and he backed out of the drive into the street. This time he made sure to lock the doors behind him and arm the security system.
The university was swarming with students, none of them knowing which way to go, unable to tell their heads from their asses. Creed pushed through gaggles of them on his way to the chaplain's office where he last found Gavin, his wife's secret godson.
They had not met on good terms, which was evidenced by the slack-jawed stare Gavin gave him as he hung up the phone slowly on the person on the other end when Creed swung open the door against protest from the secretary.
"Get the hell out of my office." Said the priest.
"Is that any way to talk to a guy?" Creed sat heavily in the seat across the desk and lifted his boots up on top of a pile of free bibles.
"Mr. Creed..."
"Cut th' crap, where's my wife?"
"She's missing?" Finally a note of concern and compassion entered the man's voice.
"Yeah, for like, a while now. Where th' hell've you been?" Creed replied sarcastically, enjoying toying with the man of cloth.
"Weren't you missing for a while?" Gavin furrowed his brow in confusion and pointed his finger to Creed.
"Enough!" He sat up and pounded on the desk. "Where's my wife?"
"I can't help you." Gavin's voice was cut off as Creed grabbed him by the throat and slammed him down on his own desk.
"Do I sound like I'm gonna ask twice?" His voice hissed through his bared teeth into the priest's ear.
"I haven't spoken to Emma since the funeral! I think she said she was going to visit Birdy's parents?" Creed released him and sat back in the chair as though nothing had happened. The secretary was on the phone to the campus police in a panic. Gavin tried to soothe her by raising a hand, but the other was rubbing his sore throat and the effect of comfort was lost.
"Birdy's parents are dead."
"Aunt I think it was." Gavin replied.
"Fuck, what's her name?" Creed couldn't even remember Birdy's last name.
"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Gavin shouted as security rushed up the stairs. "Now get out!"
"Thanks kid, you've been a great help." Creed spat as he got up and turned towards the two security officers flanking the doorframe. He snarled at them and knew that they wouldn't touch him.
ooooo
Though he wasn't going anywhere anymore, at least he had clean underwear for the next few days. Creed dropped the duffel back to the floor at the entrance to his home, dusk providing the only light. He made his way to the kitchen and was disappointed to find no magical dinner waiting for him. The fridge was bare and the cupboards empty save for a box of croutons and some salad dressing.
Drive thru it was.
The Mercedes made its second trip out on the town that day, but this time Creed pulled into a gas station to fill her up. Little gas guzzler that she was, it had been a birthday gift to Birdy. Fuck, he thought, I'm driving her car. The consumate asshole that he was, he got over the thought quickly and went in to pay for the gas.
McClaren? McCarthy? McMasters? It started with an 'M'. Creed rubbed his forehead trying to remember his former assistant's last name while inching slowly through the line to the take out window. Maybe it didn't.
They took his credit card at the first window, then he had to wait in line for the second window. He could feel a headache burrowing in his temple. He finally made it to the second window and was handed a large paper bag with grease stains already beginning to form. He grabbed the milkshake he had ordered to go with his burgers and got the hell out of the parking lot, heading for home.
He made sure to leave the entrance light on this time so he wouldn't feel so lonely. He slammed the bag down on the entrance table and sucked on the milkshake while kicking off his boots. He would eat in the kitchen.
Emptying the bag on the counter, he counted out five burgers, two large fries, and randomly, a salad he did not order. Creed angrily checked the bill but found he hadn't been charged for it. Birdy's ghost was tormenting him for driving her car around all day, he supposed.
He suddenly kicked back the stool he was sitting on in front of the kitchen island and ran back out into the hallway. Birdy's obituary still sat where he had left it.
"Bennett?" Creed had been way off. He read through the article until he reached the last paragraph. "Birdy is survived by her loving family Victor Creed, Emma Creed, and Josephine Arnott."
A great sigh escaped his lips and his hands fell to his sides. "Birdy," he said to the emptiness, "I miss ya."