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 went over the file with a fine toothed comb. The handwriting from the notes threatening Dana almost matched the notes from the old Slasher case, but something was strange, the pieces just weren't falling into place. She groaned as she looked them over, and glanced at the clock. Someone was going to have to go get Nat at school, and she didn't want to leave this. Her gut was acting up, and she KNEW there had to be a link somewhere, she KNEW it.
Victor was out with the recovery teams, and she hated pulling him away, but with the cadaver dogs, he was really more use in the office.
"Unit 483 to Marshall Creed." She said into the radio on her desk.
"Creed here – what is it, Dana?" He sounded put out, and she grinned.
"I need you in the command center."
"On my way." He sounded REALLY put out.
She turned the chair and looked at the board behind her. She just couldn't connect the dots. Something was missing – some connection.
"What is it?" He snapped as he walked into the office she was using.
"I really could use your help in here." She said.
"I'm out there trying to find the damned bombs so we can test to determine exactly what explosives were used, so if you don't mind."
"We have dogs that can do that, Victor. I need your BRAIN in here more than I need your NOSE out there."
"Dana – no offense, but…"
"I'm not asking, Creed." She snapped.
"What?"
"That was an order."
"Excuse me?" He gave her a slightly stunned look.
"I'm in charge of this investigation, if you want to be involved you can obey orders, if not, you can go back to your office and sort through cold case files." She was still irritated by his high handed treatment, and if this was the only way she could exert herself, so be it.
He just glared and then shrugged.
"Fine – what is it that's so important."
"I need another pair of eyes to go over all of this – and you are an outsider, you might see a connection I missed because I was inside the department."
"You're looking inside the department?"
"Yeah – three of the letters were delivered to my desk, there were inconsistencies in the Slasher file that back then I thought might have something to do with someone in the department, and whoever blew up that building knew exactly where to hit us to do the most damage."
"Good point, but could it necessarily be someone in the department, what about support staff?"
"I don't think support staff had access to those areas, the evidence room is…was locked down tight, with sign in and sign out procedures just to go in. The file room was easier, but not by much. Only file staff went beyond the front desk. Everyone had background checks run, and NOTHING showed in any of them. I had the FBI pull the files on them. They will be sending them over tomorrow."
"What about janitorial or cleaning crews?" He was looking at the board.
"We had the same contractor for twenty years – I think we had the same janitor for twenty years. I can call them, I don't think he was working Saturday afternoon, but I can have them pull the schedule. But…"
"I just want to look at everything, if you're going to pull me for this."
"Victor – I need you on this."
"You need me…I like the sound of that. Think I can hear it again – later." He leered.
"CREED!" She snapped.
"WALLIS!" He snapped back. "How much longer are we going to play this game?"
"I'm not playing a game."
"I know…but you are. So let's quit and take care of what has to be done without power games."
"Look who's talking?"
"Dana…" She stood up and walked over to him.
"You are taking over my life, and this is ONE place you are NOT taking over. MY job is my life, you can force your way in at home, with Nat, and I'll even concede that you have a right to do so with her, but you are NOT taking over my JOB! Got it." She punctuated it with a finger into his chest.
"Dana – you still don't get it." His arms snaked out, crushing her against him. "You're mine. I'll take over where ever and when ever I feel like it – and right now, you need to take a break." He leaned down and kissed her. She tried to push him away as the door opened, but he just grinned against her mouth, and deepened the kiss.
"Alright…save it for after shift." Jackson sniped.
"Only way I can get her to shut up." Victor quipped back at him. She slapped him.
"Keep it up, Creed; you'll be back in YOUR office and off this case."
"No I won't, because YOU bring your work home; and since your favorite place to work is the bed, I'll get to see and hear plenty." He grinned
"Whatever." She just threw her hands up in the air as he let her go. "I'm going to call about those schedules and employment records; YOU can swing by and pick them up when you pick up your daughter from school."
"MY daughter…don't you mean OUR daughter?"
"Right now, I want to kick your ass in to next week, so stop pushing me." She muttered and sat back down in the chair, glaring at him as he grinned and chuckled at her hiss of discomfort.
XXXXXXXXXX
He was sitting outside the school. The janitorial company had been very helpful, providing all the shift records, even the background checks they ran on all their employees, and all without a warrant. She'd been right and wrong, the regular guy wasn't scheduled to work on Saturday, but the weekend guy had called in sick, so the regular guy was there until noon.
He had a few questions to ask him – what parts of the building he cleaned, what access he had to secured areas of the building, and a few questions about his military background. Something about this guy bugged him.
The bell sounded – a high pitched ringing that nearly had him clutching his ears. Damn Dana, sending him to do this. She had to know how those noises hurt his ears – but then again, maybe not. Natalie hadn't developed the senses as strongly yet. The physical manifestations were first with ferals, the fangs and claws, followed by the slow sharpening of the senses as the body matured, until the healing factor became fully active on physical maturity. Nat's senses weren't as sharp yet, she could pick up on some things, her hearing was better than her sense of smell at the moment.
He saw her looking around, and opened the truck door and climbed out.
"DAD!" she yelled, "what are YOU doing here?"
"Your Mom's working and I had to pick up something on this side of town."
"Where's Grandma?"
"I don't know, your Mom told me to pick you up, and she was in a real temper when she did."
"What did you do?"
"WHAT?!"
"Mom NEVER gets mad. Well, okay sometimes when I do something really dumb, but not usually. You had to do SOMETHING really dumb didn't you?"
"For your information – I can't remember a time when your mother WASN'T mad." He snarled.
"Whatever."
"You get that from her!" He snapped. Natalie just laughed. "So about what you said at lunch?"
"What?"
"About being like me?"
"Yeah – why can't I be like everyone else? I wish I could play in PE and have people throw me the ball without being afraid I'll puncture it with my claws, and forget tetherball." He just looked at her strangely. "My teachers don't like me to write on the whiteboard because my claws scratch it up, and then there's the whole fang thing. I hate being called the Vampire kid."
"Vampire kid?"
"Yeah – or the Wolfman. I'm a GIRL!"
He just stared at her, and made an executive decision. This was more important than getting those employment records back to Dana.
"Give me a sec – and we'll go talk." He grabbed the radio. "Creed to unit 483."
"Tell me you have those records."
"Yeah – but I need to talk to Nat. I'll have them at the house tonight."
"VICTOR you get her to my Mom's and get your ass back to the site."
"NO! Nat and I need to talk, this is important, and NOT something you can help her with. These records don't have anything in them that is going to help you 'connect the dots' so you can look at them later."
"VICTOR!"
"Creed OUT!" He reached over and switched the radio off.
"Oh my God – she's really mad. Maybe you better just drop me off." Nat said.
"No, this is important." He said simply. "You and I need to work some stuff out."
"Dad."
"Trooper, can your Mom talk to you about your mutation?"
"No."
"Okay then." He drove to a grocery store.
"What are we doing?"
"Well – there are two ways we can do this, over ice cream or over a beer, and since you aren't old enough to drink – ice cream it is."
"You are STRANGE, Dad." She said, but followed him into the store. He knew there were going to be things he couldn't help her with, not because she was a frail, but because when he was her age, he hadn't had any contact with other kids. He wasn't sure he wanted to remember those days, but she had a right to know what he COULD tell her.
A half a gallon of fudge ripple ice cream and a bottle of root beer for floats and they climbed back into the truck. He drove them home, and started serving up ice cream.
"Who's picking up Mom at work?"
"SHIT!?" He ran out to the truck and grabbed his hand held radio. "Unit 531 this is Marshall Creed."
"What is it, Vic?"
"Would you make sure Dana makes it home? I kinda have something to deal with."
"Work?"
"No – kid."
"AHHHHH….sure. What should I tell her?"
"She's already pissed at me – tell her the damned truth, I forgot."
"God I hope her couch is comfortable."
"Fuck that – pissed is a GOOD thing, at least with her."
"Creed there's pissed and then there is Royally Pissed Off…pissed is great sex, I don't care who the woman is….RPO'd is on the couch for a week and don't even THINK about touching her for a month…"
"Not in my house."
"Creed – last time I checked, you are in HER house."
"That's what SHE thinks."
"I'll have the spare room ready – just in case."
"Fuck you."
"At least I'll get laid. YOU won't." He chuckled and shut off the radio. He really didn't care if she heard that or not.
"Okay – kido, Mom's taken care of."
"What did you do?"
"Avery's picking her up."
"Oh."
"So – what's the deal?" He sat down at the breakfast bar, across from the troubled ten year old.
"Kids at school are being a little mean. I mean – I can deal with Fang Face, and Bucky the Vampire Slayer…"
"Bucky the…? What the fuck?"
"It's the overbite with the fangs."
"I thought the retainer was working on the overbite?"
"It is…but now the dentist had to cut holes for the fangs to go through and they show."
"Ohhhh. Bucky the Vampire Slayer…I like that."
"I don't – okay maybe a little, but I'm always picked last for dodge ball because I can't catch the ball – or throw it without popping it. I can't get anyone to play tether ball with me, and only my friend Rebecca will play with me at recess because everyone's afraid I'll scratch them or something."
He had a strange feeling that maybe his parents had done him a favor, locking him in that cellar, kids could be MEAN! No, he would have traded even the worst that kids could come up with for one day in the sun at her age. He wanted to tell her just how damned lucky she was, but he didn't want to delve too deep into those memories.
"Why does Rebecca play with you?"
"She's kinda different too, her dad's kinda mean, and she always has to wear long sleeves and stuff, the other kids don't like her because she dresses weird." He was going to have to pay Rebecca's dad a little visit. "He and her mom got into a fight – they told everyone it was play wrestling, but Mom told me the truth, and her mom was in the hospital a couple days. Becca had to be really good and not upset her dad while her mom was gone."
"Is Becca's Dad why you don't want me to stay?"
"Kinda – I don't want Mom to get hurt."
"Trooper, I PROMISE I am not going to hurt you or your mother."
"It's just that you could – without even thinking about it. You're so big."
"And I KNOW how to control that. I've been doing it for years. I only hurt people if I WANT to." He said, trying to hide the bitter taste in his mouth. She didn't have to know how much he wanted to hurt people sometimes.
"Before I saw you – I really wanted you to come live with us, but Becca's Dad is big, and I am afraid he's going to really hurt her one of these days. I don't want to be afraid."
"What can I do?"
"I don't know."
"How about we take it one day at a time?"
"Okay."
"Now – about those other things, I can't force the kids to play with you, Trooper. I'm not really good with dealing with cubs in the first place."
"Why do you call me that?"
"What?"
"Cub."
"It's a long story, and I'm not sure I want to tell it – or you want to hear it."
"I want to know about you. You're my Dad, and everyone at school can tell stories about their Dad, even if they don't live with them. Some kids have two or three Dads sometimes, but I don't know much about you at all."
"Well – there's not much to tell, and what there is – well you are just not old enough to deal with some of it."
"How did you deal with kids when you were my age, I mean didn't they make fun of you?"
"I wish."
"Why?"
"I never got to play with kids when I was your age."
"Why not?"
"My parents…Trooper, I really don't want to talk about this."
"Dad?"
"Okay – but it ain't pretty. My parents were afraid of me, I guess. My mother was always afraid, of me, of my father, of her shadow I think. It was a long time ago, and things were very different back then. I never got to go to school, I never…" He stopped the chill creeping down his spine as he remembered what his life had been like at her age. Those years were still fuel for nightmares – almost one hundred fifty years later. "My father was ashamed of me, thought I was deformed, he locked me away, in a cellar. The first memories I can remember were that cellar, and trying to be good so he'd let me out. I had to have been four or five at the time. By the time I was your age, I'd gone from trying to figure out WHY I was down there, to just trying to get OUT."
"That's HORRIBLE. I mean Becca's Dad is bad, but grandpa sounds worse."
"DON'T EVER CALL HIM THAT!" He roared, and immediately regretted it as she cringed. "I just…he never earned the right to be a father; he certainly never earned the right to be a grandfather."
"Okay." She sniffled into her float.
"Nat, Trooper, I yell – when things hit me, when I get mad, and talking about my father gets me mad. Okay? I'm not really mad at you, I'm mad at him, for what he did to me."
She just nodded.
"It took me a long time to even be able to talk about him at all. They made me see a shrink when I…when they gave me my job and my badge. I have to say this – that shrink had guts; my head ain't anyplace people would want to examine for very long. He got in there though, helped me see that some of the things I've done were for reasons I didn't even understand."
"I know all the stuff I was able to find on the internet said you were really bad."
"I was."
"But not anymore?"
"I don't hurt people without a reason anymore. I go through a hell of a lot of punching bags, but I don't hurt people, unless I have a really good reason to."
"That's nice to know." Dana said from the kitchen door. He could tell she was furious.
"Nat needed to talk." He said.
"Nat – go to your room."
"MOM!"
"NOW!" Nat glared at her mother but stormed out of the kitchen.
"ICE CREAM! She'll be up half the night."
"Dana, back the fuck off. If I want to give her something else to concentrate on so that I can get her to tell me the things that are bothering her, I will, and you won't fucking stop me. She's MY daughter, remember."
She just glared at him and dumped the almost empty glasses in the sink.
"She's being teased at school, her only friend at school is being abused, and she's afraid I will hurt you and her the same way Becca's Dad hurts her."
Dana turned and looked at him, shock on her face.
"She told you that."
"Pretty much, yeah, I mean the part about Becca's Dad kinda came out in the other stuff she was saying."
"I knew things were bad with Rebecca's mother and father, but I didn't know SHE was being hurt."
"Dana…"
"I'm going to have child services look into it, quietly."
"Let me have a chat with him first."
"NO!"
"I won't KILL him…just talk to him."
"Child services…"
"Will take her away from her mother, out of school, and there will be a long drawn out investigation with her dumped in foster families. Let me try talking to him first."
"Sure why not, send Sabretooth to deal with a child abuser."
"That's one thing I don't put up with, okay. I may yell, I may fight for control and dominance between us, but I have NEVER hurt you."
"BULLSHIT!"
"Name ONE time…and last night doesn't count…you begged for it." She glared at him.
"Eleven years ago."
"I didn't hurt you – did I?"
"Oh yeah."
"Dana…you are right I did, at first. You probably should have pressed charges."
"I thought about it…for three days. But I knew the question would be, why did I stay – after? I don't want to talk about this now, Victor."
"I don't either."
"Did your father really throw you in a cellar?"
"You heard that?"
"Yeah."
"Yes, I lived – from the first memories I have until I was about thirteen in a dark damp root cellar, chained to a wall, beaten, my father…would pull my fangs and claws out. My healing factor developed early, at first they'd grow back, it would take a couple days. I can remember, I was about four, scratching at the door to the cellar with bloody fingers, begging to be let out, promising to be good if they'd just let me out. It took three days for them to grow back, and every time they did he'd do it again, until my mutation compensated and I'd grow them back almost immediately. That was when he started chaining and muzzling me."
"Where was your mother?"
"I told Nat she was afraid – and looking back I guess she had reason to be, my father was brutal. I don't know how he treated her. I only remember seeing her three times in my life. Once I was about eight, he dragged her down there, by her hair to remind her what a monster she'd given birth to, once when I was about Nat's age, she actually tried to help, she snuck food and a blanket down to me, and then the day I escaped.
"What happened?
"I'd been loosening the chains. I was about thirteen, I think, when they finally came free from the wall. I managed to get the muzzle off; I couldn't get the collar off of my neck so I was dragging that chain with me." He wasn't even looking at Dana anymore. He was locked in the memory. "I remember carrying it up the stairs to the door so it wouldn't make any noise. The door wasn't very strong and I kicked it down with one blow. He heard me, came running from the living room and grabbed an axe he kept by the back door for chopping wood. He started to swing it at me as she ran into the room. She ran right into it. The combined force of her movement and his back swing nearly took her head off. She dropped to the ground. Blood was everywhere."
"Victor…" Her voice was there, but he couldn't stop.
"He swung it at me, her blood on the blade, and I didn't think, I ducked and then charged him, came in under his arms as he tried to swing it back, hit him with my claws in his gut, I just wanted to stop him, and I didn't even think about how sharp they were. I cut right through and his…" This time he stopped. It wasn't the horror stricken look on Dana's face that stopped him; it was the little girl in the doorway."Nat?"
"Dad?"
"You shouldn't have heard that. You should be in your room."
She walked over and slipped her arms around his waist. He was stunned. She'd just heard how he'd killed his father, and she was trying to comfort him. It was Dana's arms slipping around from the other side, just above Natalie's head, Dana's head resting on his shoulder that brought him back to reality. He slipped an arm around both of them and rested his head on top of Dana's. He did something he couldn't ever remember doing.
"I'm sorry."
