*GASP* Could it be? An update so soon?

Yes, it is, my friends…Chapter Twenty-One is here! Let's just see if I can keep up with this streak huh?

Ryder cracked one eye open when he heard his cell phone ding. Checking the clock, he noticed it was 2:45 AM – he and Clint had landed around midnight, and Ryder had said everyone else could "Fuck Off" because he was going to bed.

Apparently, whoever was texting him didn't get the memo…which meant it was a member of his family.

Oh joy…

He stuck a hand out from under his blanket and grabbed the blasted device, currently cursing whoever decided it was a good idea to invent the damned thing and slid his phone across the screen. It was from an unknown number, but the message was clear – Livraison pour le caporal Howlett.

Delivery for Corporal Howlett.

With a groan Ryder scrubbed a hand over his face, hauling himself out of bed stretching his back and frowning when it popped at least three times.

"God I'm getting old…" He murmured.

"May I suggest a chiropractor or massage therapist?" Jarvis's voice cut in pleasantly, causing Ryder to nearly jump out of his skin, "I know Sir has quite the collection—"

"I'm sure he does," Ryder cut the AI off mid-sentence. "Rain check, Jarvis…"

"Although may you'd prefer taking Agent Romanoff up on her offers—"

"Good night, Jarvis," Ryder rolled his eyes, grumbling under his breath in French as he got out of bed.

"I do believe Sir would take it as quite the offense if you attempted to dismantle me, Corporal," Jarvis's voice added as Ryder grabbed his discarded jeans.

Ryder was pulling his t-shirt over his head as he responded, "Sir could easily rebuild you in the middle of a blacked-out stupor."

"While true, we would both prefer if you did not attempt the act."

"Gotcha," Ryder nodded, pocketing his phone as he left the bedroom. He headed for the elevator, grabbing his discarded leather jacket from the sofa as he passed, shoving his arms into it as the elevator doors hissed shut.

"May I inquire as to where you're heading at this hour, Corporal Howlett?"

"Nothing you need to worry about, Jarvis," Ryder told the AI. "And did Barton tell you to start calling me that?"

"Agent Barton informed Sir of the title," Jarvis responded.

"Of course, he did…" Ryder gave a sigh. The doors hissed open, and Ryder stepped into the parking garage, "Have a good night, Jarvis."

"Be safe sir."

Ryder walked over to where his bike was parked – a gleaming black Harley Davidson – noticing the spots where Steve's Harley and Case's Ninja usually sat were empty, meaning they were still in DC.

He straddled his bike and revved the engine, speeding out of the garage and into the night.

The meeting had been set months ago – Ryder knew what he was looking for and knew what wheel to grease to get what he wanted. He already knew the meeting spot – he had booked it, set up the room, and paid in cash – all that was left to do was wait.

And wait he did…until he got the go ahead.

Which is why he now raced at top speed out of the city and to a tiny little motel in the middle of nowhere.

When he turned into the dusty parking lot Ryder parked his bike in the empty space directly in view of the room, before walking over and knocking on the door.

"Quel est votre numéro?" a voice barked from the other side.

"Vingt-cinq." Ryder responded in kind.

"Supérieur ou inférieur?"

"Supérieur."

The door opened, and Ryder stepped inside, walking into the middle of the room and standing between the single queen-sized bed in the room while the other man shut the door behind him.

"Lock it," Ryder said simply as he turned to face him.

"I know how to do this," Victor Creed rolled his eyes, sliding the locks into place. His dark hair was long and tied back in a ponytail, his face covered in a full beard, and his thick fingernails were at least an inch long. "I taught you how to do this if you recall…not to mention I have quite a few years on you to begin with—"

"Do you have it?" Ryder asked, cutting of the sentence.

Victor gave a sigh and gave a bob of his head as he said, "On the table."

Ryder gave a nod and walked over to the scratched table, seeing the cream-colored folder, "Similar to the file we got on Bucky."

"Then I'm sure it came with the same warning."

"I don't wanna pull that thread?"

"Right."

Ryder shrugged, pulling the file closer to him. "You're sure it's everything?"

"Outside of anything you can get from Case or Barnes."

"Well Barnes is in the wind," Ryder told him, "If he even remembers enough…and Case isn't talking." He flipped open the top, seeing the personnel picture SHIELD had on file for Case. "How do you know it's not junk?"

"I got it from the source."

Ryder closed the folder, "Mom…you got this from Mom."

Victor gave a nod, "Yeah…she says she tried to scrub all existence of Case from the records, but she said it should all be in there."

"Great…I'll have a look at this and let you know if I need anything else," Ryder said, grabbing the folder.

He was almost to the door when Victor barked, "Sit down."

"I'm in a hurry—"

"Now."

Giving a small growl of annoyance, Ryder took one of the seats at the scratched table, slapping the folder back onto the surface. "What do you want now?"

"You know…I don't appreciate this new attitude of yours," Victor began as he took the empty chair across from him.

Ryder gave a snort, "Don't really give a shit, Uncle."

"Look, your problem is with your parents, not me," Victor snapped at him. "So, do us both a favor and stop acting like a spoiled child."

That made Ryder's eyebrows go up, and he leaned forward in the chair, "A spoiled child? Really?"

"You're throwing a tantrum like one."

"A tantrum? Is that what you call this?" Ryder asked, and jabbed his finger into the folder on the table. "Two years ago, my sister was kidnapped by Hydra, then given back beaten to hell with adamantium fused to her skeleton."

"I'm well aware of what happened—"

"So, then you also know one of my best friends fell off a train in nineteen forty-five," Ryder cut in. "Spent the next seventy years being ripped apart repeatedly by the same organization."

"What happened was not—"

"There were pictures and videos that went online when Black Widow did the information dump," Ryder added. "And a face I haven't seen in ninety years is clear as day in many of them. You have no idea how many times I've listened to her scream 'Soldat!' and start barking orders…and then Bucky starts screaming."

"Ryder—"

"Case said she was never put in the metal monstrosity to erase her memories…and I believe her. Which means Mom did something to her. And I can only imagine how Case felt when she saw Mom in Siberia…and to find out about Bucky like that? Not to mention having the memories be erased so she can relive the debacle all over again? This isn't a tantrum, sir, it's fucking rage."

"I get that…but it's not us you're mad at."

"Bullshit it's not."

"You're mad at your mother," Victor told him. "And you have every right to be."

"Then don't fucking accuse me of throwing a temper tantrum."

"I will when you come in here and get all short with me," Victor snapped. "That I don't deserve. Your mother has done a lot of questionable things in the past…but I am not her."

"Questionable is putting it lightly."

"And Jimmy and I had nothing to do with it."

"Did you know?"

"I just said—"

"You said you didn't have anything to do with it," Ryder snapped. "That doesn't mean you didn't know. The both of you knew she was still alive…what else have you lied about?"

Victor's eyes narrowed, and his shoulders squared as he snarled, "No, we didn't. Over the years I was asked to keep tabs on your mother for your father and for Fury, yes…but I didn't know about Barnes. And Jimmy sure as hell wouldn't have stood for it if he'd known."

That appeased him somewhat. While he was still unsure of his dad, his Uncle Victor hadn't ever really lied to him in the past – and Logan had already confirmed he'd told Victor to stay quiet about the subject…and upset though he was at the man Ryder knew Logan wouldn't have left Bucky to be tortured by Hydra all those years.

Victor took a deep breath to calm himself down, and he said, "Case is going to hate you went behind her back like this."

Ryder gave a roll of his eyes as he said, "Case is too pissed off at the situation to face what happened."

"I guess this is a bad time to mention that Kayla also wants to see you."

Ryder's eyebrows almost disappeared into his hair, "Come again?"

"Your mother wants to see you."

"Not a chance in hell."

"That's what I told her…but she seemed so desperate, so I told her I'd forward the message," Victor gave a shrug. "She wanted me to ask you to think long and hard about it…to not make any rash decisions."

"Rash decisions?" Ryder gave a snort of disbelief. "That's a good one…not the fact I've got ninety years' worth of reasons not to see her."

"Your mother doesn't see it that way."

"Of course, she doesn't…but then, how would she? She abandoned us."

"She stayed away because of Jimmy."

"She chose Hydra over us…it doesn't justify it just because Dad told her to stay away. I would have told her to stay away if I was in his position." When Victor opened his mouth again, Ryder snapped, "Don't tell me some cock and bull story about protecting us. They already had Dad on their radar, let alone her. We weren't safe no matter what, and you know that. If what she pulled kept us that much safer Dad wouldn't have moved us to Brooklyn in the first place."

Victor sighed, and gave a quiet, "I know."

Ryder shook his head, "Look. I really have no interest in seeing her at all. And while I can't speak for Case personally, I'd say it's a safe bet that after everything that's happened it will cause bodily injury to her if Mom is in the same tri-state area."

"I figured…but she is your mother."

"No, she's not," Ryder told him. "Sarah Rogers and Winifred Barnes stepped in as my mothers growing up. Kayla Silverfox is the woman that gave me blue eyes and the ability to hypnotize people with my hands…and if you ask Case, she'll say the same thing."

"Except she takes after Logan with the claws," Victor pointed out.

"And thanks to her also the adamantium."

Victor sighed, and after a few minutes of silence he added, "Look, kid, I'm sorry. Maybe we should have been up front…but that was Jimmy's call. And I don't think he was thinkin' straight after your mother left to begin with…he was still dealing with his own issues with the adamantium fusion and without your mother…I don't think moving to Brooklyn was simply about protecting you, although it did play a factor."

"He told us he didn't want her to know where we were."

"I think his own experiences with Hydra colored his thinking, whether he remembered it or not," Victor concluded. "He's never been to clear on what came back to him though."

"He trusted you."

"I don't think he did at the time," Victor shook his head. "Took Jimmy and I a while to put the past behind us. Us serving in the war helped…gave him someone to bitch to when he found out about you four being Howlies…"

Ryder gave a chuckle at the old nickname for the group.

Then his uncle's face dropped as he said, "And it gave him someone to lean on when you didn't come home."

Ryder's gaze went to the table, and he thumbed at the side of the folder, choosing not to respond.

"I get that you're angry…and like I said you have every right to be. Your mother is your mother…we can't change that, and I'm not even going touch that sore spot with a hundred-foot pole. Your dad on the other hand…he was trying to look out for you, to keep you safe." When Ryder finally met his gaze, Victor gave him a small smirk, "Just keep that in mind the next time you tell him to 'fuck off' alright?"

Ryder couldn't help the tiny smile that formed as he gave a nod, "I'll consider it."

"That's my boy," Victor sat back in his chair, making it creak loudly. "Cheap ass fucking things, aren't they?" he added, eyes going to the chair.

"Whole place is cheap," Ryder pointed out. "Room's paid for the night, if you want it it's yours…I'm going home and going to bed." He got to his feet and stretched, his back popping a total of four times as he did.

"You're getting old, kiddo," Victor smirked at him.

Ryder picked up the folder and scowled at his uncle, "Yeah, yeah…"

"And get a haircut and a shave," Victor added with a laugh.

"Fuck off," Ryder rolled his eyes as he walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

I know Victor Creed is probably very OOC – I was basing him off how I remember from the X-Men Origins movie, plus the backstory for the character is very different from that point forward, and Ryder is family not a stranger, so the personality and responses seemed to fit for this chapter. I hope I did a good job with the conversation.

Another thing I want to address – mostly because I keep forgetting to and I apologize for that. The backstory of this fic, which isn't as flushed out as I'd thought, poor writing on my part that I'm trying to piece together, is that key events of X-Men Origins Wolverine (movie version) still occurred, although set in 1917. Instead of Stryker fusing Logan with the adamantium, it was Zola. Another part was that although Logan lost some of his memories, he didn't lose all of them – he remembered that he lived with and loved Kayla Silverfox, but he lost the memories of Victor faking her death and everything with Hydra that followed got erased.

Oh, and before I forget, again, I'm working with Bing translator, but this is the translation:

"What's your number?" a voice barked from the other side.

"Twenty-five." Ryder responded in kind.

"Higher or lower?"

"Higher."