I DON'T Own them – not at all not a bit – not even an itsy bitsy bit…well except any OC's that happen to raise their heads – but I don't own them not a bit.
A/N This started as an unrelated oneshot, but I just couldn't stop wondering exactly who the wife was, exactly why Sabretooth was put away, and exactly why he decided NOW to bring it out. I have my answers, and as the third in the Dictation Trilogy – now so do you.
Victor had tamed the beast, locked it away for almost thirty years, but without the ones that grounded him – kept him human, Sabretooth was clamoring for freedom again.
Chapter 9 – Dreams, and wakings.
Tad started awake. She wasn't certain what woke her, but she glanced at the clock on her nightstand. It was two o'clock. She started to sit up, and that's when she saw him leaning on the bedroom door frame.
"Victor?"
"Didn't mean to wake ya; you were muttering in your sleep."
"Sorry – I didn't mean to wake YOU." She said embarrassed that she's woken him. The scent of the room gave her a good idea what she'd been dreaming about. She took in his wet hair and damp shirt and realized her errant imagination had affected him as well.
"I've woken up worse." He grinned, and walked across the floor and sat on the side of the bed. "Darlin, there's something you need to understand, you're safe here. No one is going to hurt you, especially not me, so relax. You're my girl." He reached one clawed hand out and traced her cheek – and she started awake.
"DAMN!" She muttered, this was the third night in a row she'd dreamed something like that. She glanced over at the closed bedroom door and shivered. She didn't understand where these dreams were coming from but she blamed Angel for putting them in her head. She reached to pull the blanket back – and that's when the second heartbeat in the room made her pause.
"Tad." He was sitting in the chair. Shit.
"What are you doing here?" She sounded defensive, even to herself.
"I need to talk to you about something."
"Can it wait until I'm dressed?"
"I guess…I met with a friend of mine tonight, someone who's well placed to know about the type of party Allan took you too. He knew about what happened, more details than you gave me, and I need to know how much of those details you know – or knew."
"Why?"
"I'll explain after, I need your honest reactions to them."
"Let me get dressed."
"I'll be downstairs." He stood up and walked across the darkened room and opened the door soundlessly. She climbed out of bed and grabbed a pair of sweat pants and a shirt to pull on. She glanced at the clock, it was two thirty. He was downstairs, in the dark living room.
"Sit down." She reached to turn on the light. "You don't need it, Tad."
She folded her hands in her lap and sat in the dark waiting on him to ask her questions.
"Alright, I need answers to questions, and if you don't know, just tell me. I need to know how much of this you actually know, without telling you everything – for now."
"Okay."
"You said Allan was into pain – inflicting it, do you know how long he had been involved with it – or who else he might have been involved with?"
"I know that after the whole thing came out – and the video tape, one of his 'friends' caught me out on campus and gave me an earful about Allan and his previous 'girls.'"
"Did he name names?"
"No, just that I was like all the others, I lead him along, pretending to be sweet and docile and submissive, but when it came down to accepting a Master I turned out to be like all the rest, and that Allan should just stick to the good thing he had."
"Did he say what that was?"
"No. He said something about Allan having to really psych himself up to spend…how did he put it…'vanilla' time with me."
"That makes sense, considering what I've found out."
"Victor…please, I'm confused and I don't see how any of this can make a difference or how this weapon has anything to do with me."
"Well – it does, and it has to do with Allan's death. Do you know who his 'slave' was, back then?"
"NO! I told you…"
"Alright…here's what I found out…" He sat down and lit his cigar, letting the smoke filter through the room, before he continued. "Allan was a very twisted individual, there were very few in the 'lifestyle' that actually liked or respected him, those few were weak fools that wanted what he had, which was total control over his slaves."
"He had more than one?"
"Over the course of the ten years he was active, he had three…only one is still alive."
"What?"
"His first one…the others couldn't survive both of them combined. She's as sadistic as he was, but she enjoys being 'topped' as well. She's a very obedient slave, and her current Master is using her to keep his own harem inline."
"What are you talking about?"
"Candice."
"His SISTER!"
"Oh yeah…my friend had video that Allan gave him, he showed me."
"That's just sick…" She felt her stomach churning.
"If it were just Candice, we'd be okay, it would be easy to deal with, but I know exactly who is behind this and why it's directed at us…the ferals in particular."
"Then it's not JUST about me?"
"Not anymore."
"Who – Why?" She was still trying to process that the man she'd thought she was in love with had been involved with his own sister since he was a teen.
"Candice was taken in by a man by the name of Nathaniel Essex. I worked for him, a time or two; he's a real piece of work."
"Why would he be interested in me?"
"At first it was just because his new 'toy' wanted revenge for Allan's death, but then he found out about Purgatory, and Angela, and of course he knows about me and Logan, and knows we are some of the few that can actually – if not counter him directly – can remember and stay vigilant against him."
"Why would we have to?"
"He goes by the name Sinister."
She was shocked. She'd lived at the Institute, she'd heard the stories, about the fights with him over the course of a century – and now he was focused on destroying HER! She felt panic rise.
"I told you – I'll take care of you, he won't get near you."
"Why?"
"Why is he after you? I explained that."
"No – why are you taking care of me. It would be best if I just left, ran, and got as far away from him – from them as I could."
"NO!" He roared at her. "You are NOT taking off – you are NOT running. It's not just you he's after, and your running wouldn't help the rest of us."
"But – I'm just not that important, why would someone like SINISTER want to hurt me – or the people I care about." His start almost didn't register with her; she was so close to a panic.
"Tad, listen to me very carefully. NO ONE – EVER is going to hurt you again. They have to get through me first."
"But WHY?" She wasn't sure what was more frightening, a being like Sinister trying to kill her – or Sabretooth promising to protect her.
He took a long draw on his cigar before answering. "You are family, maybe not by blood, but you are family, and I take care of my family." She felt the panic ease a bit, but not much. "I've already told Todd and Angel, and they will be moving with us."
"Moving?"
"I'm selling the house. It was Bronwyn's, not mine, and it's not defensible for one thing, and for another, it's time to move past that part of my life." She could see him clearly in the faint light from the end of his cigar, but she wished he'd let her turn on the lamp.
"So where are we going?"
"There's a place – closer to the campus that I've been looking at. I put a bid in on it today. It's not the Hamptons, but it will be safer, and give the group a place to meet, and store whatever needs to be stored."
"Todd just bought a house."
"Yeah – and I paid it off for him…they can move back when the danger's over. I'm not going to have my baby girl having her baby in danger." She bit her lip to keep the smile at that strange turn of phrase from his mouth. "Don't laugh…"
"I'm trying not to."
"We're moving as soon as I get the word that the bid was accepted, so get packed."
"Are you expecting word today?"
"This morning."
"Oh…I'll go start packing." She stood up and walked to the stairs, her knees trembling in fear, but determined not to let it get the best of her.
"That's my girl." He said it softly, but it sent a new surge of fear through her.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
He watched her climb the stairs. He hadn't told her everything that he'd found out, he just couldn't. There were things she just didn't need to know, things that would break her spirit completely if he told her now. Allan's plans were well known, and there had been those in the community that thought he was going too far. Candice was just the beginning. The other two…girls hadn't had a chance. The ONLY thing that had kept him from starting his control over Tad earlier than he had was Angel and Todd and her training at Xavier's.
She'd been his perfect target, except for those three things. She'd been abused by her father, to the point that – when she defended herself with her mutation against a rapist, her father had publicly berated her for allowing herself into that situation and for being nothing but a useless girl, and then, from what Victor's sources said, had beaten her nearly senseless before Xavier's people had shown up to save her. Her healing factor hadn't been fully active at that point, and only Logan and Gambit's intervention had saved her life. She'd blocked the memory, and even Xavier hadn't been able to get her to access it. Todd had been unthreatening, and had eased into her confidence, and Logan had helped her to learn to exert herself. When she entered college she had Angel for back up and support, and an example of what a strong independent woman was like, something he'd instilled in his daughter from birth. Allan had seen her as the perfect slave, already basically trained by her father, easy to put under control and use for his own purposes – his and his sister's.
The problem was, in many ways she'd let Allan win. She hadn't dated anyone else since, she let Angel and Todd and the Purgatory group control every aspect of her life, and now was feeling abandoned and alone. He could smell it, when she thought he wasn't here, or thought he wasn't paying attention, her dejection, her depression. He wanted to help – but his way of helping would only make the situation worse. She didn't need someone else to lean on – to subject herself too; she needed to be her own person, before she gave herself to someone else.
He picked up the phone and dialed Angel and Todd's number.
"Hey – Dad, how'd she take it?"
"Not well."
"We're packed, as soon as Todd's finished his last minute stuff, we'll head that way."
"Good, I'll see you then."
He hung up the phone and walked up the stairs. He could hear her moving around in the guest room, packing her bags, and he stepped into his room and started throwing his work clothes into a rucksack. He'd leave his suits and less durable clothes for later. He only had one other thing he wanted to take with him, and he picked up the rucksack and walked down the stairs. He dropped the bag by the front door and started for the den. He stopped, and turned back.
"TAD!" He shouted.
"Almost done." Her reply drifted down the stairs.
"I need your help with something." He heard her drop whatever she had in her hands, and start down the stairs.
"There's something in the den I need you to help me pack."
"No offense Mr. Creed, but I think you should pack your wife's portrait yourself."
"Bronwyn's…No – its' behind that."
"What?"
"My good luck charm." He said as he flipped on the light in the den and pulled the heavy frame down from the wall. He flipped it over and smiled at the strange glass case built into the back of the frame.
"Completely temperature and light controlled inside." He grinned as he had her hold the frame while he unhooked the case. "Angel's moving the portrait to her house, but I'm not letting THIS out of my sight." He touched a part of the case and the internal lighting system activated. "My fingerprint controls it." He grinned as her eyes grew wide at the piece of vellum inside.
"Is that…? NO! Can't be…that's in the Louvre." She looked at the famous sketch, the man's arms outstretched, the circles and different positions faded with time.
"No – one of them is in the Louvre; he made several sketches of this particular idea."
"That's…where did you get that?"
"In an old monastery in Italy, back in World War One; I carried it for years folded up in my jacket pocket, until it started to fall apart. I had this built about twenty years ago, hid it back here, I figured, I was taking care of her, she could take care of Leonardo."
"That's amazing." She whispered as she reached out to touch the glass, as soon as her fingers touched it, it faded to black.
"Leave the frame, Angel and Todd can get it later, and don't say anything about this. You're the only one who knows."
He felt her eyes on him, and he carefully wrapped the case in a blanket concentrating on what he was doing to hide the glint of triumph in his eye. He'd given her something that only they shared.
"Did Bronwyn know about it?"
"Nope. There were parts of my life she never knew about, this – and the rest of my collection – was one of them?"
"Collection?"
"I collect things." He stood up, carrying the case. It had a special carry case that fastened onto his rucksack.
"Like what?"
"I don't know – if I like it, I buy it. I've got a Boccaccio, a Rembrandt, a Stradivarius, a couple gems I liked, some statues – I'll have to show you sometime."
"Where are they?"
"I have a house in Seattle; I store them there, in a special vault."
"Angel doesn't know about them?"
"No."
She was quiet as he had her help him fasten the case to the rucksack. It was just going in the car, but he didn't want to take any chances, not with this.
XXXXXXXXXXXXX
She'd been surprised by the look of pure joy and possession he'd had on his face when he showed her the drawing. She'd seen photos and sketches of it for years but never seen the real thing before, and he had more things like it hidden away from the world. What else did he have hidden away?
Angel and Todd arrived right after they got her bags packed into the back of the car.
"Are you leaving Mom's car?" Angel asked.
"Yeah – I haven't started it in six months, I'm not even sure she'll start."
"Are you selling the house – or just leaving it?"
"Don't know yet, thinking about selling it."
"Why – you and Mom were happy here."
"I know – but it was her house, not mine." Tad watched his face and noticed he kept glancing at her as he spoke. She wasn't sure exactly what was going on, but she didn't like it. His cell phone rang and he walked across the yard to take the call.
"Tad, are you alright?"
"A little freaked by all of this, but I'm not completely non functional."
"Sinister isn't anything to play with."
"I know."
"Alright, we got it…let's get a move on." Victor said as he walked back across the lawn. He opened the passenger door for Tad to climb in. "I have some old friends meeting us there to help get the place in shape."
Todd and Angel climbed into their car and he slipped into the driver's seat. She noticed a strange smile on his face as he pulled out of the driveway and couldn't help asking him.
"What's so funny?"
"Not funny, just saying goodbye. Thirty years is a long time, even for me; but it's time to let her go."
"The house?"
"Bronwyn; it's time to get on with my life."
Tad had a sinking feeling that he was expecting her to have a large part of whatever life he was planning to have, and she didn't have the strength to fight him.
The building he'd bought wasn't a house; it was a monstrosity of a place, like Xavier's. This was built of rough local stone with small windows, which had steel shutters installed.
"It used to be a mental hospital I think, but it's defensible, and has quite a bit of resources both above and below ground." He pulled into the garage, and Tad had a very pleasant surprise waiting as the door opened.
"Well, Chere, it's good ta see ya. Been too long." She threw her arms around his neck, trapping his long graying hair in against his back.
"GAMBIT! I haven't seen you in…what…five years?"
"It sure been a while." He grinned, and then laughed as the snarl came from across the car. "Good to see you too, Creed?"
"How's things going, Gumbo."
"Dey goin' Mystique an' Toad are upstairs gettin' some rooms ready."
"I thought we weren't moving in till you got the bid through?" Tad asked Victor.
"I said WE weren't – never said anything about them."
"Well, well if it isn't Snaglepuss." Tad looked at the blue woman with the bright red hair as she walked into the garage.
"Good to see you too – I saw your offspring not long ago."
"I keep telling you that's impossible. I killed him, myself. His wife donated his body to science or something."
"Well – THAT makes sense." Victor snarled.
"Why?"
"The gel needs fresh DNA to maintain the structure it's emulating, has to have fresh to start with, they have to have his body on ice or something."
"So this is…Mrs. Creed?"
"No, Bronwyn died last year."
"I know THAT, Tooth…you tend to move fast."
"Fuck you, Myst."
"Any time, Lover, any time." She grinned and turned back into the main part of the building. Tad cringed at the idea of sharing living space with Mystique.
Victor turned to Gambit. "Who else is here?"
"Juggs is busy, Avalanche Jr. will be here next week, he picked up his daddy's mutation, we have Toad, me, Myst, an' whatever assistance you provide."
"I have me, Tad, Angel, Todd, and about thirty class three or less mutants willing to help out."
"Damn – you got Xavier beat at de moment."
"Yeah – well, I pay better."
"Yeah – right." Gambit laughed as the two men turned toward the entrance to the main building.
"Tad grab my rucksack, and bring it in, would ya?" Victor said casually over his shoulder.
"Get it yourself." She snapped back just as Angel and Todd pulled in behind them.
"That's my girl." He grinned as Angel climbed out of her car. Tad was surprised by the look of shock on Angel's face as Victor grabbed his rucksack. He just turned and followed Gambit into the main building while Tad started unloading her own bags.
"Did he just call you 'my girl'?"
"Yes, he's done it a couple times today."
"Oh my God…I was half joking…." Angel said.
"What?" Tad looked at her.
"About sleeping with my Dad."
"I am NOT sleeping with your Dad!" Tad snapped.
"Tad – my Dad only called one person 'my girl' and that was my MOM!" Angel said, grabbing her arm.
"I'm not sleeping with him – and I'm not going to."
"Tad, it wouldn't be that bad, would it?"
"YES! I'm sick to death of being second."
"What."
"Never mind, YOU wouldn't understand." She snapped and grabbed two of her bags and headed into the building. She was going to find her room, and drop; she seemed to need a whole lot more sleep than usual.
"Tad, wait, what do you mean? Please."
"I've been second since the day I was born, I'm tired of it. If I EVER end up with someone, it's going to be because I am FIRST with them, not taking someone else's place."
"Tad…"
"Just leave me alone, Angel…you're just as guilty." She turned and let the door close behind her as she went looking for someplace to get some sleep.
