Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists. I also do not own Jenny, which Dizi created a few years back and which is a fabulous character. I strongly recommend you read her adventures with Wolverine and the X-Men.
7. Aftermath
Lilia was spending the night with Zelig, and Wagner had promised Creed he wouldn't leave the child unattended not even for five minutes. That meant he didn't have to worry about his daughter's safety for the time being and could instead focus on his woman.
"Ya gonna take 'em sedatives..."
"I'm fine," she mumbled for the millionth time. It was nearly the only thing she had said ever since getting back to the Institute.
"The pain o' the psychic attack..."
"I'm fine."
"...and o' those wounds..."
"I'm fine."
"... is gonna hit ya fast an' hard 'fore..."
"I'm fine."
"Like hell ya are! If McCoy wants ya ta take 'em sed..."
"I'm fine."
He growled, closing his fists. He wanted nothing but to break lose and kill everyone around, though preferably those Church of Humanity assholes, and Isabel was not helping. He grabbed her by the chin and forced her glazed over eyes to meet his. Her pale skin felt so cold.
"Ya listen t'me, woman," he saw her lips move, getting ready to repeat her dumb mantra. "Ya're gonna take the sedatives an' that's it. Got it?"
Her mouth closed into a thin line and her body shivered but she didn't say anything else. He almost knelt down on the bed, next to her, and held her tight. Almost. But McCoy came closer and started explaining what he was going to do.
"I'm fine," she said in a hoarse whisper.
"Just give her the drugs already," he grunted to the doc.
He stood by the bed as McCoy dealt with the wrist wounds. Fists closed so hard it nearly hurt, Creed clenched his teeth at every shudder of his woman's body and held back a snarl every time she strangled a whimper. He knew she shouldn't have gone out. He knew it could be dangerous. He knew she was always getting into trouble. He knew.
"Ya ain't ever leavin' this place without me again," he growled. "Ever."
He noticed McCoy's disagreeing glance but he couldn't care less about him right now. He knew the woman wouldn't obey unless she wanted to and she needed to obey him on this because no way was he going to put up with more kidnappings. He had nearly had a fit when he'd gotten her text!
"Are ya listenin' t'me?" She looked over to him, her eyes still unnaturally dull. "I don't want ya goin' nowhere without me, ya understand?"
She blinked and didn't say anything, which was actually a good sign. Of course she was still reeling from the attack; in another week or two she might start thinking differently. Damn her stubborness! How the hell was he supposed to keep her safe when she kept waltzing towards every possible threat?
"Now all you require is to lie down and attempt to repose," McCoy said gently, and she obeyed.
Wasn't that a miracle, the woman yielding to a doctor! Creed shook his head.
"I'm fine," she whispered.
But she wasn't. Couldn't be further!
McCoy left the room and Creed looked down at his Nesi. Livid and frail. He sat softly on the edge of the bed and ran a finger lightly over her cheek, which earned him a feeble smile.
"I'm fine," and he could hear the effort she put into making her voice reassuring. "You saved me."
So what else was new?
"Promise, my sweet Nesi," he whispered. "Promise ya won't go nowhere without me."
She sighed and he insisted, eager to say almost anything to get her promise.
"Ya knows I was worried sick all day and when I saw yer text..."
The smile was anxious to make up for the day's hell, but it lacked the strength and she knew it.
"I'm sorry," she said softly.
Creed leaned over to kiss her forehead. He had to make sure she understood how dangerous the situation was.
"If they had been smart enough ta ditch the phones before they got t' the house, we would have taken days ta find ya, Nesi. Ya was lucky like all hell! But ya don't got yer phone no more 'cause they destroyed 'em all. Ya know what that means, right? I won't have nuthin' ta track ya with if there's a repeat. An' this is the X-Men headquarters, my sweet. It's a freakin' target fer anti-mutants and way too many mutants. You an' Lilia are safe within the buildin', within the grounds, but once ya go outside…"
To be fully honest, even within the building there was always a slight chance of an attack, but it was as close to safe as it got. He didn't want her to fear for their safety constantly, even because direct attacks had been rare in the latest years.
"Since these assholes can't come in to attack, they wait outside fer a chance ta hit when no one expects. This ain't Creston, my sweet. I ain't sayin' ya hav'ta be stuck inside 'cause I'm jealous nor anythin' o' the sort. It really is a matter o' safety. Ya do understand that, don't ya?"
She nodded weakly and he kissed her forehead again, her eyes, her cheeks, her lax lips.
"Promise," he tried hard to avoid the Spanish accent and veer towards something more Portuguese sounding. "I'll go with you anywhere you want to go. I'll tag along for eight straight hours of shopping and I won't say a word against anything. I'll even pretend to have fun through the whole thing! Just promise me you won't leave without me. Promise, mi Nesita. Please."
Her brown green-speckled eyes shone at his attempt to speak her language. He really should work harder at picking it up. He could already understand it very well, it was really the speaking he never made an effort with. Always the same old expressions, always falling back to Spanish vocabulary. He didn't even know why he didn't try to improve. It made her so happy, the rare occasions he tried to speak in Portuguese, even if it ended up being more Spanish than anything.
"I don't leave de house if you say is not okay. Promise." She said it in English, probably to make certain he wouldn't think she was setting up a backdoor to her promise, and Creed couldn't stop the sigh of relief. "Please, don't worry."
As if he wouldn't. Her cold hand lay stifly on his leg and she tried to smile reassuringly again.
"Get some sleep."
But she didn't want to, and he could smell the apprehension on her.
"Here," he got his own phone and gave it to her. "Ya can keep my phone. That way ya can call me or text me every time ya want 'stead of havin' ta use the phone Summers gave Lilia. I'll hav'ta erase everythin' ya text me, and ya gotta keep calls to a minimum, but... ya'll be able ta contact me anytime ya want. Ok? And I mean any time. Fer whatever reason; makes no nevermind. Ok?"
She smiled, mouthing a Portuguese thanks, and he turned off the password requirement. Then he slid the phone under the bed sheets and told her the PIN number, made sure she reapeated it twice.
"Now ya'll be able ta sleep with no worries, won't ya?"
But she still didn't want to; he could see it in her expression. He leant down and kissed her lips softly.
"Sleep safely," he whispered in broken Portuguese. "I'll be watching over you."
She kept her hand on his leg and unwillingly closed her eyes.
"Keeping Isabel confined isn't necessarily in her best interest," Hank explained as he led Creed to Scott's office. "Not only does she require a distraction from the sorrows her unfortunate miscarriage has brought forth, she also needs to feel safe in her environs, and your request to remain inside the Institute at all costs will only strengthen the sense of general physical insecurity as well as additional anxieties stemming from distinct concerns."
Creed did not answer, though. What for anyway, if Isabel had already promised to stay put? Let the good doctor fret and preach to the walls. Besides, he should know very well how often they got attacked.
Scott's office had been prepared with a row of chairs, and some were already occupied by Logan, Jubilee and Bishop while Kitty and Scott conferenced over his desk. As Creed and Hank entered, the blue doctor motioned the blond towards the chairs before taking one for himself.
"Sit down, Creed," Scott directed casually as Kitty nodded and walked over to the other side of the room. "We're ready to start."
"First things first."
Scott frowned, not understanding the other man's words, and waited for a clarification.
"I brought the damn woman here so you and yer circus monkeys would keep her safe," Scott scoffed lightly as he realised where they were headed, "and you, assholes, not only didn't keep her safe, ya also decided that she needs t'be attacked!"
"Attacked? Are you insane?" No red shades could disguise the disbelief on Scott's face. "I was aiming at the gun, Creed! I wasn't going to hurt her."
"Oh, 'course not. Who? You? I mean, when the hell was hittin' her hands with a ray o' kinetic force gonna hurt her!"
Hidden behind the shades, Scott rolled his eyes in frustration while Beast leaned over to Kitty, whispering he should have brought some popcorn. Creed was simmering. His fists were so tight, his knuckles were white; and his voice was soaking with barely restrained violence as he hissed through clenched teeth that the woman was as harmless as a newborn.
That was jarring at best and everyone frowned at Creed. Bishop was the only who had voice at the moment to echo "harmless?"
"Creed..." And Beast got up to get the blond's attention off Scott, who was shaking his head in a now angry disbelief. "We all understand you possess a high level of protectiveness towards Isabel where external threats are cocerned, but... How should I put this? A person who is holding a handgun – and I'll overlook for the moment the fact that said hypothetical person might have already removed someone's heart forcibly while the victim was still breathing – ; a person holding a handgun and showing no qualms about pulling the trigger can't truthfully be considered..."
"She's. Harmless."
"Oh, fer cryin' out loud!" Logan burst. "The woman killed six people with a knife and ripped a man's heart out!"
Cyclops groaned, frustrated, while the psychopath snarled viciously and both ferals unsheathed claws.
"You have better keep yer mouth shut, ya bastard!" Kitty grunted that the meeting was turning into a circus, but no one seemed to hear her under the growling. "Ya pulled yer claws at her!"
"Oh, yeah, and I was obviously gonna slice her up next. How can anyone be so freekin' stupid, Creed! I was gonna swing at the gun! Like everyone else who just wanted t'get the blasted gun off her hands!"
Beast dropped back on the chair.
"Salty and a slab of butter. Why did I not foresee the need for popcorn?"
"She had just been through Hell and ya all think it was perfectly OK t'just attack her?! Who's the fucking' psychopath in this place? She was out o' her mind wi' fear! She was defending herself!"
"Always a great reason to rip somebody's heart off," Bishop scoffed to no one in particular.
"And you..." Creed took a deep breath and lowered his voice to a murdering growl, "You couldn't take a couple bullets 'fore takin' the gun off her hands? Ya had t' attack her with yer claws?"
Jubilee was getting upset at the growing threat in Sabretooth's stance, especially since no one seemed particular interested in zapping the guy a few times to get him in a shorter leash.
"And ruin Logan's fun?" Pointed out Bishop, annoyed at the circus, like Kitty had put it.
"I nearly got myself killed when I got 'tween you an' those toxic slugs... I could've just left ya behind when ya ignored my warnings, but no. I went after ya, an' I pulled yer sorry ass back ta safety while I was gettin' shot and YOU couldn't fuckin' repay me by NOT attackin' Isabel?! She's a fuckin' HARMLESS FRAIL!"
Creed's thundering voice had grown to a paroxysm of barely held-back violence when the metal tray was brought, full force, against the metal cabinet, the sound waves reverberating in a sharp screeching echo. All eyes were suddenly on Kitty, and even the two feral mutants adjusted their stance to take on any new assailant.
"Well, now that I finally have your attention," and she carelessly threw the now broken tray onto the sofa while walking to the desk at which Scott was peevedly sitting, "and that we have all gotten off our chests our feelings about what went wrong in Isabel's extraction, why don't we move on to what those people were trying to achieve, huh?"
Logan and Creed exchanged a heated glare while Kitty signalled Scott, who promptly pushed the button that had metal shutters cover the windows and the flat screen descend from the ceiling, just behind the desk.
"Logan. Creed. Will you both sit down and listen? You might find the information I've collected tonight a bit more interesting than yelling at one another. I hope."
The two men glared silently while sitting, side by side. Then Kitty cleared her throat and seemed to relax some from her irritation.
"First of all, we're dealing with an unknown association wich I'll call The Anonymous. Bishop was kind enough to help me go through the recordings from The Anonymous operation and Sam has said that, even though he's visiting his mother, he can go through some of the footage too. Keep in mind that we managed to get our hands on hundreds of hours recorded. I'll accept any helping hand. Anyway…"
The screen, so far a blank, lit up with a still from one of the surveillance cameras that constantly recorded the events in the improvised lab.
"We've managed to identify all the lab people and some of the mercenaries. This is Doctor Gilbert Truman. He was the one in charge of the operation and one of the four lab people Isabel killed. Bishop has discovered that he had been working for the government until last year, when he simply disappeared off the map. His very family and girlfriend have reported him missing. Right. Next is Jason Dawson. He was the youngest man in the operation, twenty-two years old, and he was also the one who… had his heart removed."
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