Support
I don't own them – ok I don't own HIM. Most of the rest are mine, unless Marvel owns them, I promise.
This is very definitely AU. I know it's a common theme with me, but this needed some more exploration. I apologize if anyone thinks it's been done to death, but hey, he just lends himself to a certain type of strong, willful, determined woman, what can I say.
I didn't plan on this going any further – really I didn't but – well – Victor Creed can be a demanding muse (who the HELL taught him to use the bullwhip!) He just won't let this one die.
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They parked the car five blocks from the station – the roads were just too congested with debris and emergency vehicles to get any closer. They started in on foot. At first it was just glass blown out of buildings, and minor cuts and abrasions. Then they started seeing major structural damage, two blocks away. The headquarters building and city jail had been a ten story building, and should have been visible, however all either of them could see was a huge plume of black smoke.
Dana felt panic grip her stomach and throat. It had been shift change, three hundred officers, fifty support personnel and, as of end of shift last night, two hundred and fifty detainees in the jail, either booked or waiting for booking, six hundred people, just in the building, not counting surrounding buildings, and from the damage she was seeing still a block away, and the serious injuries and dead laying in the streets being triaged by paramedics or just moaning waiting for help, the damage closer had to be worse.
Her heart was in her throat when a firefighter came out of the blaze, carrying a tiny bundle. The day care next door to the building must have been full. She met his eyes, and saw the answer to her unasked question. He gently laid the bundle down near a row of unmoving bodies, and his glazed eyes just turned, and his body followed, back into the smoke and debris to keep bringing more out.
She pulled what she called her scene face, knowing what was inside that blast area was bad – really bad, and started to work her way into the debris, looking for anyone who might be in charge to report to, Avery followed right behind, his scene face in place as well.
Her eyes saw, but her mind wasn't ready to process the devastation. She found a uniformed officer – from an outlying community.
"Where is control?" She asked him, grabbing his arm. He glanced down at her hand, and then up at her and pointed to a fire truck with several uniformed officers around it. He turned away, and ducked behind a pile of rubble. She could hear his retching heaves and just turned the direction he pointed. It was going to be that kind of day.
"Wallis, Grayson get over here." It was Jackson's voice. He was night shift, and she remembered the board last night, had been off duty.
They walked over. He looked at her, and down at her skirt. "Get a coverall on, you are going to need it, and a hard hat. I need sector 8 and 15 covered. These men will assist. The feds are on the way – here's one now." Jackson said. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the very last person she wanted to see striding through the smoke and rubble like he owned the place.
"Marshall." Jackson said. "You are with Wallis." She choked back her groan, now wasn't the time to deal with personal issues. Jackson handed her a set of coveralls, and a grid map of the area. "You have section 8."
She just nodded and stepped into the coveralls, not worrying that her skirt bunched up around her hips. Comfort wasn't important, getting in there, finding the living, recovering the dead, and finding the cause were their priorities at the moment, and in that order. She grabbed a hard hat from the pile next to the truck and glared at Creed.
"You coming?"
"Yeah." She was surprised at his lack of a witty comeback, but maybe even HE could be stunned by something like this. She started into the mess when she saw an old friend, a retired officer working his way over the rubble. She knew he'd been involved in a school explosion years before and didn't need to be at this scene.
"Just a sec." She said, and walked over and took his arm.
"You don't need to be here." She said.
"They called for anyone with experience to come help – I'm here." He said.
"There is a day care in there – you DON'T need to be here. Go back set up a control center or something, help that way – you don't need to see those kids." She said softly. "There are other things you can do, Dan."
She saw the pain in his eyes, and watched as he turned away. He knew she was right, and she knew he'd find some way to be useful.
"Alright – section 8, let's go." She said, loud enough for her volunteers to hear, and with Victor Creed at her back she lead them into the devastation.
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She surprised him, twice. Once, by barely flinching when she saw him, and second by how she handled the old cop. Victor could smell the man was in pain, physical pain, and didn't need to be on the scene, and she'd sent him on his way – to find something useful to do, without once mentioning his infirmity. She had compassion, his frail, something he usually didn't have much use for – but today it just might be needed.
He followed her, hardhat on. Even he didn't want to deal with a blow to the head from falling rubble or worse. Their section of the debris was near the entrance and booking area of the jail, according to the floor plan of the building, in reality, it was a pile of twisted metal and concrete and death – he was surrounded by the smell of death.
That wasn't a smell that usually bothered him, but even he wasn't used to it on this large a scale, it smelled like a charnel house in the old days, where they stacked the bodies before burial, except it was all fresh, or rather almost all. He smelled decay – at least a day's worth.
"Wallis – over here." He said, pointing to the pile that smelled old.
"What is it?"
"There's a body under there." He said.
"There's a LOT of bodies under here, Creed." She snapped.
"This one's at least a day old." He said.
"Well then there is nothing we can do for him now. It's the LIVING we are looking for – investigation can wait until…" She just turned away leaving the rest unsaid. He knew exactly what it was…until there are no more living to help." He marked the spot, and turned to follow her. He usually didn't take orders well, but somehow, even he was feeling overwhelmed by all of this.
They started digging, listening for any sounds. He smelled blood and death below their section, and nothing alive. He reached out and grabbed her arm.
"Nothing living here, Dana." He said softly.
"You don't know that."
"Yes I do." He tapped his nose.
"That's right. Section – follow Creed." She said. Her radio burst with static, and then Jackson's voice.
"What are you doing Wallis?"
"Marshall Creed's a mutant – he has an enhanced sense of smell. We are going to follow him, see if he can scent anyone alive." She said.
"DAMN! I'm calling in the dogs – that's a good idea." Jackson said. She grinned. Creed knew several of the outlying communities had K9 units, both cadaver dogs, and drug dogs that could scent people. They would be a huge asset in the search. That Jackson hadn't thought of it sooner told how much stress the man was under. He just looked at Dana, and she gestured him to lead the way.
He took a sniff, nothing alive nearby so he started moving out, in widening circles from their starting point. There was nothing alive within a fifty food radius of where they started. The teams they passed started following them, everyone wanted to find the living first, the dead would have to wait. He pointed to a pile of rubble.
"Two alive under there – not sure for how long." He said, and the teams started digging.
"Four men dig here – the rest follow." Dana said, and gestured for him to keep going.
He just nodded to her, noticing that the grime was sticking to her face, she was sweating in the early summer heat, and he took a deep breath of her scent – to clear his head. She smelled – he didn't have a name for it – determined, distanced, professional, but he read complete concern and even stark terror from her as well. It was strange. He'd never been in a situation like this, he didn't know if this was her normal 'work' mode, or if this was something special, something brought out by the devastation around them.
With his sinuses clear, he took another scent; all he smelled nearby was death so he moved on. He found another scent – this one nearing death, and signaled a team to start digging, and to hurry. Dana just signaled him to move on, and they fell into a routine of him finding something, and four to six man crews digging to pull out survivors. He was nearing the west wall when it hit him, STRONG and alive, and he could hear it too. He didn't wait for a crew but started digging.
Another pair of hands joined his, and he glanced at the woman next to him. She didn't know what it was or why he was digging but she was right there with him…just like he wanted. He wanted her like this all the time – with him, not against him. He didn't even wince as he ripped three claws out pulling the rubble off of the crumpled body below, he didn't even pause, using the claws on the other hand to cut through the body – and pull the infant out from underneath. The mother had curled her body around the child, and in doing so had given her life for the screaming bundle in his hands. He looked down at it, the baby was almost completely unharmed, just a scratch on one leg, its body had been fully protected by its mother's. He reached out to hand her the baby when he heard the rapport.
He glanced around, and almost missed catching her with his other hand as she dropped. He saw a brief flash but with both hands full he couldn't do anything to track it down. He smelled her blood, and heard her moan.
"DANA!"
"Shoulder, Get the baby out, I'll be ok." She said through clenched teeth as she pulled herself back to her feet.
"LIKE HELL!" He roared at her and leaned down and planted his shoulder in her middle, standing up with her over one shoulder and the baby cradled against his chest. He took off at a dead run, leaping piles of rubble where he had to, they both needed medical attention, and he was the only ambulance around.
Avery saw him, and rushed to help. He handed off the baby, and dragged Dana to the triage unit.
"There's a sniper out there, picking off people in the rescue teams." He said. Avery grabbed his radio, and reported to command.
"Creed – get your ass back out there – there are still survivors." Dana said.
"Can't you ONCE say my name, WOMAN!" He roared at her, before bringing his mouth crashing down on hers. Relief was just part of it, if she was giving him hell, she couldn't be that hurt, part of it was anger at her ordering him around and part of it he just wasn't ready to pick at yet – it fueled something deep inside him, something that, even after nearly eleven years, couldn't let her go.
It took him a second to realize that her tongue was battling his, her mouth was as demanding as his, her good hand was tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, as if she wanted to climb inside his mouth. He groaned, and pulled her hand away.
"DAMN IT! NOW you get responsive. STAY PUT. I'm going back in, but save some of that for later – because we need to talk." He glared, and turned away. Her taste in his mouth fueled him, gave him the strength to go back into that mess, to try to find the survivors, and try to keep the other officers alive. This was the type of environment he thrived in, the added danger of the sniper just put his senses on higher alert, which turned out to be a good thing, he found six more survivors, two more children. By the end of the day – everyone was patting him on the back, and calling him hero.
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She knew she was in shock, she had to be. First the explosion, then him there, then finding the survivors, then the baby, shot, pulled out of there over his massive shoulder, and then his mouth – she tried to remember when she'd tasted ANYTHING so clearly before. His hands had been brutal, ripping through the debris to get to the child, ripping through the body protecting it, but so gentle lifting it out of there, holding it – then holding her. She shouldn't be surprised she knew both sides of those hands – quite intimately.
"We can't have that again, I promise to untie you if you are good" He leered at her, before taking the bone of her ankle into his mouth and sucking on it. She bit her lip, she didn't care what it took she was getting out of here – away from this bastard. She was straining against the cloth holding her to the bed, and tried to yank her foot from his hand. He just licked her instep, and then nipped gently the ball of her foot.
"None of that, Darlin." He whispered as he trailed his lips up to the back of her knee, this time she couldn't stop the moan. DAMN that felt good. It wasn't supposed to feel good, damn him. She felt something damp against her inner thigh and realized he was wiping away the blood and other fluids from earlier. She moaned again. FUCK HIM! How dare he?
He was right though – if it hadn't hurt so much, she probably would have enjoyed the first time. She did want him, damn it. How had she let it get this far. He was a fucking murderer, an assassin, a hit man, he lived outside the law, broke it with ease and long practice and she was a cop sworn to uphold it. She moaned again as his lips followed the path of the cloth as he kissed her thigh.
"Please." She heard herself. She wasn't even sure what she was begging for. Please stop, or please don't stop.
"That sounded so pretty, Dana, do it again." He whispered against her stomach as he kissed around her navel. Her lower body was pressed to the mattress by his weight as he worked his way up. She moaned as his hands gripped her hips again, as he pulled himself up, until he was looking her in the eye. She moaned at the feel of his skin sliding across hers, and she whispered her plea again.
"Please." He brushed her lips with his, and gently traced them with his tongue. She moaned as she felt him against her, his body ready to take her again. This time she wasn't fighting, and she moaned as he slid inside her.
"Was that what you wanted, Darlin." He whispered as her back arched against him. He knew damned well it was what she wanted; even the slight twinge of discomfort as he brushed the torn flesh inside her pushed her closer to screaming, and this time not with pain.
"Oh GOD!" She moaned as her hands were suddenly freed, and she could do what she wanted, which was bury them in his mane of hair and grab his mouth with hers.
"That's it, Baby. Come for me." He whispered against her mouth as her body pushed her to comply with his command. She tried to close her eyes, but he captured them with his, and suddenly she couldn't tear them away. His eyes were so black, but not featureless, there was a slightly lighter line around his iris, almost grey and his pupils were the deep black of terror and fear in the middle of the night. She moaned and felt her body reaching its limit.
She couldn't keep her eyes open, and the explosion of stars on the inside of her eyelids as she reached her climax was as bright as his eyes were dark. He didn't quit, didn't let up as her body trembled under him, she could still feel him moving, and without warning another orgasm wracked through her.
"Beautiful – Baby." He whispered against her ear, before she felt him shudder, burying his face in her neck as his climax ripped through him.
She was panting, his body still pinning her to the mattress. She hoped he'd roll over and go to sleep, but he didn't. He didn't move for a second and she realized that even with his climax he was still stiff and hard inside her.
"That took me by surprise – but don't think I'm done with you yet." He said finally. She groaned as he started moving again. HOW the HELL could he do this, she knew what his jacket said – that he was some kind of mutant, but what kind she didn't know.
"Why are you doing this?" She whispered, moaning from the ache building again insider her.
"That's question number six – what are you gonna do for me, to get your answers?" He grinned as she closed her eyes again as another orgasm ripped through her. "That's good, but not enough."
He didn't stop, and she could honestly say she didn't want him to.
It was around dawn when they both dropped from exhaustion, he had one arm draped over her waist in his sleep, and she was finally clear headed enough to realize what she'd done. She'd not only LET him get by with raping her, she'd ended up BEGGING him for it. She was so mortified she couldn't stand herself. She'd begged him to let her touch him, begged him to let her taste him, she could still feel him thick and hot in her mouth, almost more than she could handle, but she'd managed – and from his incoherent groan as he came in her mouth, he'd enjoyed every second.
He'd been rough – and so damned gentle it hurt. She wanted to scream from the pain, the problem was, there were no injuries for this pain – no visible scars. She hated him for what he'd made her do – but a part of her, a part she tried very damned hard to ignore, loved him for it. She slipped out from under his arm, and gathered her clothes where they were scattered across the floor.
"You leavin'?" He asked.
"I don't know." She said softly.
"Dana." It was just her name, but she turned and looked at him.
"I don't want to go, let me stay." She whispered.
"I can't, you know that." His face showed real regret.
"Please." She couldn't believe she was begging him to let her stay, but she couldn't stop herself, no more than she could have stopped herself from coming here last night. She'd known when she walked through that door, what was going to happen, and she'd welcomed it. It wouldn't have even been rape – the first time – if she hadn't gotten scared of the pain. She'd wanted him…her no hadn't been stop, it had been slow down, and she'd gotten EVERYTHING she'd hoped for from him – and more.
She opened her eyes, and stared up at the ceiling. Ceiling? She'd been at the site of the explosion, with Creed. Where was she?
"Ahh – Detective, good to see you awake." A man in blue scrubs walked behind the curtain surrounding her bed. She was in a hospital. She tried to hide the blush. Her dream had been vivid – dream or memory did it really matter? She'd ended up leaving, and he had definitely given her more than she'd expected – or asked for – or deserved. She wouldn't trade Nat for anything on Earth, although she might consider giving him visitation if she could have a night like that again.
She slapped herself in the head with her free arm, the one that wasn't tied up in a sling with IV's running into it. What the HELL was she thinking?
"Was it something I said?" The doctor asked with a laugh.
"I don't know what drugs you gave me, but they need to STOP now!" She growled at him. The doctor just shook his head, and pushed back the curtain. She moaned. HE was there, with Avery, chatting like nothing was going on.
"How long have I been out?" She snapped at both of them.
"Since you passed out in triage this afternoon." Avery said. Creed gave her a look, a very hungry, very predatorial, very possessive look. She concentrated on her partner, trying to ignore him. It wasn't working.
"We pulled six more survivors out, after you passed out. They got a shift of guys in from the outer departments and sent us home to clean up and rest before going back in the morning." She noticed something strange, Creed wasn't looking at her. He looked almost embarrassed about something. "They got the dogs in after Creed was so helpful with that nose of his, and they have lights up and working through the night."
Avery looked like he was ready to drop – even Creed, no Victor, looked tired, the last time she'd seen him this tired…she cut that thought off.
"No word on the sniper, but he was only shooting at people wearing your department's ID on the coveralls." Victor said, she could hear the weariness in his voice. "We are putting your entire department in vests while they are working the blast scene, just to be sure."
She just nodded. Her arm was stiff, but not entirely painful, which said more for the drugs they had her on than the injury itself.
"I'm assigning myself to you full time." She flinched under the intensity of his gaze.
"Anything to get to see Nat." She said sharply. He lunged at her on the bed, his face stopping only inches from hers.
"This has NOTHING to do with NAT! YOU were SHOT, woman, and I am NOT letting my woman die without doing everything in my power to protect her." He snarled low, she could feel it vibrating in his chest and into hers as he leaned over her. It started other things tightening low in her gut and she almost moaned, but not in pain. He brushed her lips with his and whispered "You got that?"
"I am NOT your woman, Creed." She snapped.
"Like HELL you're not." He snapped back.
"Now, gentlemen, Detective Wallis needs to rest."
"I need to go home. I have a ten year old daughter." She said.
"Nat can stay with us." Avery said.
"No, I NEED to be home with her." She said. And she did. She needed to gather her little girl up in her good arm, brush her long blonde curls, she NEEDED it. She looked up into Victor's face. He hadn't moved, but he saw her need.
"I'll take care of her – of them." He said simply. She didn't feel like fighting, and yet she knew she had a battle royal on her hands.
"I don't want you to." She said it softly.
"Too bad." He snapped.
"I can't stop you from leaving, but I will put it was against my recommendation in the record." The doctor said.
"Fine, but get me the hell out of here." She snapped at him. The doctor grumbled but snagged one of the emergency room nurses to pull the IVs out and get her on her way. She signed the self release forms without a bit of regret. She needed to be home – and she needed to be on that scene in the morning. This wasn't just some building – some random group of people. These were her friends, her co workers, her family, and she was going to do everything she could to find them – and find out who did this.
She actually leaned on Victor's arm as he led her out of the ER. She knew exactly why they weren't fighting her leaving, as soon as she walked out of the curtain. This was one of the smaller hospitals in the city – and they were packed. She watched as they turned away three ambulances because they were full. The city hadn't ever seen devastation like this, and she prayed it never would again.
He helped her into his truck. She didn't argue, but she was going to lay down some ground rules.
She waited until he got in and belted himself into the driver's seat before she said anything.
"You can't tell her who you are." She said.
'WHAT?"
"I'll let you take care of us, but you can't tell her you are her father."
"That won't work, Dana." He said quietly.
"It will have to – or you are dropping me off at Avery's."
"She already knows."
"What?"
"She called me eighteen months ago. She's been asking to see me." He said it softly, but the words still cut through her like a knife. She felt betrayed, angry, and it wasn't HIS fault. Nat had taken the initiative.
"Well, that changes things." She said. "I guess I sounded pretty foolish, saying you couldn't see her. You were both going behind my back."
"It's not like that. I told her it would be up to you, and I meant it." She was surprised by the lack of anger, lack of venom in his voice.
"We're both tired." She said, giving him an out, he could just drop the whole thing, bring it up later.
"No – we need to have this out – before she's involved."
"Victor…"
"Say it again."
"What?"
"My name, say it again."
"What are you talking about?"
"I can't hear it enough, even when you are spitting mad, it does something to me." He groaned.
"We don't have time for this."
"TAKE the TIME!" This time he did roar, but it seemed like he poured all his energy into it. He pulled off, onto the shoulder of the road, and turned to face her. "I've been through hell today, in more ways than one. I am not in the mood to play games, Dana. I'm tired of your games; it's time to play by my rules."
"We don't…"
"YOU listen to me. You and Nat are mine – got me. I take care of what's mine. You were SHOT today, Dana. You aren't a mutant, you don't heal, that bullet could have KILLED you, I've let you have your independence; let you think you ran the show, because you needed it, but no more."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"This." He reached out and grabbed the back of her neck, and pulled her to him, his lips crashed down on hers, his fangs cutting her lip as he forced his way inside with his tongue. She moaned – her body was screaming for him to finish this, but she knew this wasn't the time or the place. She couldn't find the strength to push him away.
"Here's how this is going to work." He said with a snarl as he pulled away from her, and pushed her back into her seat. "You and I will sit down with Nat, tell her the fucking truth, and then we will go back to your cracker box house until I can find us something better. Tomorrow, you wear a vest under your fucking clothes, because I am NOT losing you, not to some fucking sniper. I don't give a shit about your job, Dana, I know you are good at it, and it doesn't matter a hill of beans to me if you stay with it or not. I can take care of us."
He was driving again, and issuing orders like a drill sergeant. She glared, but waited until he took a breath to interrupt.
"And I don't have any say in this?" She said sarcastically.
"NO you FUCKING DON'T! YOU don't have a say in SHIT right now. I let you go – once, I'm not doing it again."
"You never let me go, I left."
"You BEGGED me to let you stay."
"You bastard."
"We've been over that – and that's another thing, Dana. She's my CUB, MINE, and I'll be DAMNED if she's going to be a bastard."
"WHAT?"
"As soon as we get a breather in this mess, you and I are getting married." He snarled it.
"Like HELL!"
"WOMAN, that wasn't a request." He slammed on the breaks in front of Avery's house.
"HOW the HELL did you know where Avery lives?"
"I should, I pay for the damned mortgage." He snapped back.
"WHAT!?"
"If you THINK I'd let you roam around with MY KID and NOT be watched, you are insane."
"Avery works for YOU!"
"Yeah – but he's a good cop too." He said it grudgingly. "Now get the hell out of the damned car, we have a conversation with our daughter to manage."
"NO!"
"Woman, I am NOT in the mood for this. Either you get the fuck out of the car, and walk in there WITH me, or I'm going in, grabbing Nat and dragging her ass out her to the car and we can have the talk while she's scared out of her mind." She glared at him, but his determined gaze met hers and she bowed her head. He'd do it.
"Fine. But you'll have to help me. I'm not sure I can walk on my own."
"I'll fucking carry you, if you ask nicely." He quipped.
"Please." She whispered the word. "Please Victor, let's not fight."
She was stunned when he bowed his head, and just nodded. He yanked open the car door and stormed around the truck. She could feel the pain killers wearing off, and knew she needed to get someplace and lie down, and quickly.
He yanked open her door and reached in and gently lifted her out of the truck. She just slipped her good arm around his neck, and whimpered as he tried not to jostle the bandages on her bad arm.
"In pain?" He asked softly, against her ear as he carried her up the front walk.
"A little." She replied.
"I have the pain killers the doctor gave you; you can take one when we get inside." He wasn't snarling, and she wasn't arguing. She might have some fight in her tomorrow, but right now she was exhausted, in pain, and about to face introducing her daughter to her father.