This is my first fanfic, I've only ever seen the films so everything else I know about Marvel's characters is based on fanfic I've read here over the last two years. I've done my best to separate what's Marvel's (and so fair game) from what authors have given their characters, but something might slip through. If I've accidentally used something that belongs to someone else PLEASE tell me so I can change it or get his or her permission.
Sabertooth is just one of the bad guys' side kicks, except when he's trying to kill Logan – but just what does he do in between evil megalomaniac employers?
Chapter 1 - Arrivals
Peter picked up his rucksack, slung it over his shoulder, waved goodbye to the truck driver and stepped into the unknown. 'I wonder what I'm letting myself in for' he thought, as he entered the rundown portacabin that served as an office for the building site. Since what was being built was a railroad in the middle of nowhere, there were few creature comforts. The only furniture in the office was a sturdy desk, a locked filing cabinet and a couple of plastic chairs; Peter looked around, taking it all in.
"Yes sir."
"Don't give me that – 'sir' is for teachers, my name's Hicks – you'll call me boss."
"Yes, boss"
"You're in dorm 9, third on the left, the guys'll be back from the site any minute, they'll show you round. I'll assign you a work team in the morning. Any questions?"
"No si... boss."
As Peter walked out of the portacabin Hicks turned back to his paperwork. 'Damn, I forgot to warn him about Creed.'The dorm turned out to be a low wooden building, with windows down the south-facing side and three bunks along the other. Two of them seemed fully occupied, with the bedclothes rumpled and various photos stuck above the headboard. Families? Why would anyone with a family would be working in this godforsaken place? Peter turned to the third bunk; both beds were made up military style, no pictures. On the pillow of the lower bunk rested a silver chain with a pendant on it, he stretched out his hand and picked it up. Behind him the cabin door opened silently.WHAM! Peter slid to the floor, reeling from the blow that had sent him crashing into the cabin's wall. A gloved hand reached down and snatched the chain from his unresisting grasp.
"Hey! What'd you do that for? I was only...."
His angry voice tailed off as his eyes took in the stranger standing over him. Eyes travelled up from steel-capped boots, past the knife hanging at the belt, the muscled torso, up up up this guy's seven foot if he's an inch! The realisation coincided with the face, cruel amber eyes glowed under a mane of blond hair, and then a snarl split the mouth to reveal a row of gleaming white, sharp, teeth. Uhoh
"Don't touch my stuff. Ever."
The stranger reached down and grabbed a handful of Peter's shirt.
"Understand?"
Looking into the amber eyes a few inches from his own Peter managed to gasp out "y'yes"
"Good. You're the new worker?" Nod. The grasp tightened and jerked him upwards, his light 5'6" frame dangling a foot off the ground with no perceptible effort on the other's part.
"The bottom bunk's mine, you sleep up top." The iron grip loosened, and as he staggered to regain his balance, the blond-haired giant stalked out of the cabin. As the door swung shut Peter noticed that the other occupants had also returned and were casting curious glances at him.
"So that's where ole Hicks sleeps, there's the architect's office and just down here's the Tavern" Peter lengthened his stride to keep up with the talkative redhead giving him a guided tour. It was a depressing sight, just a few shacks, portacabins and vans thrown together to give the team of men working on the construction site down the road somewhere to eat, sleep and get drunk. After an initial moment's awkwardness the other inhabitants of his dorm had introduced themselves. Dan Shaw was a large, slow man, with pictures of his wife and children posted up all around his bunk; Peter could see that Dan really missed them. Ray and Caleb Wick, who shared the far bunk, were twins, Ray was slightly taller but both shared the same dark rugged features, they were friendly enough but rather distant. Escorting him on his tour was Craig Errin – the only one on the site anywhere near his 18 years. Craig, he had already discovered, was an incurable gossip and gladly volunteered to show Peter around – thus gaining a captive audience.
"The Tavern's run by Emma, she's a right dragon – make sure you don't get on the wrong side of her. Last month some guy from Oregon tried to pinch her ass and ended up with a broken wrist!"
"Craig," Peter interrupted "who was the other guy?"
"Huh? Who?"
"You know, the tall blond one I managed to piss off." Craig went quiet; this was obviously not a subject he wanted to talk about.
"Craig?"
"That was Victor Creed, he's not a good person to annoy."
"I already figured that one, who is he? Why'd he got such a chip on his shoulder – I was only looking at his pendant and he sent me flying."
"You were lucky, I guess Hicks must've given him a pretty stern warning about beating up any more of the workers. The guy you're replacing, Jack, stopped him from beating me up and challenged him to a fight. Creed just about took him apart, they say he'll be out of hospital in another three weeks."
They walked on for a while in silence, Peter turning over what Craig had just told him in his head. As they reached the door of the bar Craig turned to him,
"Look, if I were you I'd just try to keep my head down. Creed ain't gonna forget you touched his stuff in a hurry."
"I'll keep that in mind."
The Tavern was, as Peter had expected, a dingy smoke-ridden affair. Behind the bar the fearsome Emma was yelling commands and curses at her team of scrawny waitresses, in front of it were the heavy drinkers, some already lost into their own world of alcohol, although it was not yet 9 o'clock in the evening. On one wall was a darts board where another group were playing good-naturedly. Along the other walls were tables, some of which were occupied. At one sat the twins Ray and Caleb, obviously having a private conversation, Dan sat at another with two other men and, as Craig and Peter hesitated in the doorway, beckoned the pair over. As he followed Craig, Peter looked towards the corner table where Creed's huge figure sat alone. As if he felt his stare Creed raised his head and glared back, Peter hurriedly dropped his gaze and slipped onto the bench beside Craig.
"Hi guys, this here's Peter Bradley, Jack's replacement, he's in dorm 9 with me an Dan." As Craig continued the introductions Peter tried to relax, he hadn't even been here a day yet and already he'd made a dangerous enemy.
"So you're the kid Hicks were talkin' about" one of the other drinkers slurred "he don't reckon ya'll last the week out. An after havin' a look- see at yeh meself ah think ah agree."
"Why not?" Peter was slightly annoyed by this off-hand dismissal; he'd done construction work before and kept up easily with men much larger than himself.
"Ah can just tell, ya too soft fer all the hard work an weather here, skinny rat like you'll just wash out"
"Don't listen to him Pete" Craig interrupted "he was like this with me three months ago and I'm still here."
Three pints of beer and a few games of cards later Peter was ready to call it a night. Throughout the evening he'd had the constant feeling of being watched and whenever he looked over his shoulder Creed was scowling at him. He rose to his feet and excused himself. Walking back to the dorm the back of his neck began to prickle – was he being followed? With an effort he walked steadily into the empty room and shut the door behind him. As he prepared for bed he realised just how tired he was, he did not hear the others come in.