"Kid, I thought yer goin' ta check if anything's here," he snarled at her and he got no response, "Never trust a kid ta do anythin'," he grumbled as he had to quickly go through the wreck.
His fake I.D, emergency cash, files on enemies, and his armored car -- all of it were consumed in the flames.
She didn't say anything and left the scene. With a handful of dirt, dried up leaves in his hand, he didn't have time to respond as she went to look over the cliff side where he threw his rival
He sighed as he went back to where his trench coat was. The trip to here was a bust. He fished for a cigarette and looked over to where the specter was now -- same place, same look.
He lit up and contemplated about the power the runt had over her -- even in her afterlife.
From this far away, he saw the yearning in her eyes. How could she still care for the runt? The runt didn't protect her when she died. From what he got from her memories, the runt wasn't there most of the time. He grimaced at what he heard earlier, the runt wanted something from her that she couldn't give.
He was hated for fewer reasons than that, and he saw the girl wanting the runt.
"We're leavin' kid," he spat the cigarette out of his mouth. The girl reluctantly turned away from the view and led the way to the Viper as Creed followed silently behind her.
+ + +
Two hours of complete silence, she didn't even look back at him the entire time. She'd just kept up in front of him. She didn't hear him light a couple more cigarettes. When he knew that she wasn't paying attention, he just threw out the newly lit cigarette; fifteen minutes later, he'd try again, but got the same result.
When they did reach the car, he pulled out the last cigarette from the pack and looked up at her. Her somber form finally turned around to see him.
He'd find out the truth indirectly, she'd want a drag and there'd be a good chance the memories of her and the runt would come up.
He puffed a little bit more and saw she wasn't taking the bait, "Ya need a drag kid," he asked her. She didn't answer, her eyes averted his gaze -- he took the cigarette out of his mouth and flicked it away.
"If I wasn't there would'ya kill him?" her voice cracked with sorrow.
"Hey I thought ya know me kid," he tried to get a rise out of her, but she still couldn't meet his gaze.
"Yes or no," her directness made him jump a little. He'd gotten used to her being more of a spitfire than this.
"Yes," he let instinct take over and answer for him. He knew that he wouldn't let a perfectly good runt live if his feral side took over. Instead, she stopped him and made him think -- he didn't like doing that.
"Maybe it'd be better off if ya killed him," the shock he felt rivaled being hit with an actual thunderbolt -- and he literally knew how that actually felt.
"The look in Wolvie's eyes," he saw here reminisce, "He's become more feral than I've ever seen." She sat down next to the car, hugging her knees, "I don't know if he'll ever get out of it."
He almost put another slash on his car when she showed her adoration for her 'Wolvie.' She'd cared for him so much that she'd rather see him dead than being feral forever. This wasn't her -- he gave a toothy grin.
"Don't think ya can get one over on me kid, I know where your gettin' at," he gave an enthused argument -- and for the first time in a couple of hours, she actually had another emotion other than sadness.
"What are ya talkin' bout 'Tooth," She actually met his gaze this time.
"You givin' up on the runt, that ain't you kid -- No I think ya givin' me that reverse psycho crap so I'll end up wanting to kill him," he saw her confused face, which she was probably faking, "If I kill him, you and him will live happily ever after in the afterlife." He shook his finger at her, "or he'll be hauntin' me too -- like how you are."
The myriad of emotions on her face clued him on to her lying, "Nice try kid, but I ain't fallin' for it," he continued as he went to the driver seat of the car.
"Ya right 'Tooth, ya got me -- heh, me givin' up on Wolvie -- what a crock of --," Her spitfire came back two fold.
"Watch your mouth kid," he stopped her as he entered the driver seat, seeing her sit next to him on the passenger seat, "you won't get your precious 'Wolvie' back anytime soon, kid -- you're mine and I'll only deal with ya," he heard what he said in his head, "until I can find a way ta get rid of you," he spoke out quickly.
He swore he heard her gasp, but when he looked over to her to check. A death glare met his eyes, "Ya how ya goin' get away from 'Wolvie', he'd track ya down."
He started the car and floored it out of the area, "Kid, I made it my business ta be hidden -- he won't find us anytime soon."
Pure glee coursed his body. He got her -- he got her good.