He turned away from her, nostalgia wasn't good for him, "We're leavin'," he tried to command her.
"You can't," he heard her plea as she floated in front of him, "Iggy's hurt and he could die."
"Ain't my concern Jubilee," he walked through her and approached the boy. Tattered and torn were understatements. He stood in the pool of blood the kid produced. He heard a faint heartbeat steadily becoming weaker.
"We should at least drop him at a hospital," he heard her voice waver as she knelt next to the boy.
"Ain't no hospital treatin' muties around here -- besides he'd be dead before we get there," he knelt down to calculate the damage.
"I can save him Creed, just let me take over yer body," he saw a specter who was about to cry, but ghosts don't cry.
"Ya owe me big Jubilee," he stood up and braced himself. He didn't think that far ahead. He wasn't thinking -- period. The warm darkness took care of that.
* * *
So he got something recent this time. The boy left the restaurant with only his hat and overalls on. On the verge of tears, the boy sniffed as he turned to face Jubilee.
"Why is Uncle 'Tooth so mad?" he asked trying to be brave.
This would be the time where she'd probably grieve her frustrations about him onto the boy; with that in mind, he couldn't wait to hear what garbage she said about him -- to use against her.
"Sweetie, he's always ornery," she knelt face to face with him, "he ain't happy even if he's supposed to be happy," he saw her hand go up and try to touch the boys face, but she only fazed through.
The euphemism of what he really is. Why didn't she tell the boy the truth? He's a sadistic and psychotic killer that felt no remorse.
"He's better than daddy though," he gave a weak smile. Internally, he snarled -- he wasn't like Iggy's father in any way, "he got angry when mother died...and...and," the boy tried to choke back the tears that ended up falling from his red eyes.
"Shhh...shhh," she tried to comfort the boy, "my dad was like that too," she confessed to him.
"Really," Iggy asked through choked sobs.
"Yeah, that's why I ran away so long ago," she smiled through her pain, "things were better then."
A silence came between both of them. The night wind howled as the crickets started to chime up one at a time. Her gaze looked away from Iggy. What was she thinking now?
"Can I run away with you and Uncle 'Tooth?" the boy asked bluntly. Her continued silence clued him in to her doubt.
"We'll see Sweetie, we'll see," she could only give a small reply, "now lets get ya somethin' ta eat," she changed the subject quickly. He gave her a smile as they walked together inside.
"Uncle 'Tooth --" a small voice asked as for the first time he saw himself through her eyes. He didn't think he looked that bad, but anyone could see otherwise. A huge pool of blood formed below him as pink, freshly healed scars covered him.
"Oh my God," he heard her say. He didn't hear her say that back then, maybe it was because of the pain, "we gotta save 'im Iggy," she whispered to the youthful feral and without a second doubt, the feral agreed with her.
Even after he treated them like garbage, they cared about his well-being. The must want something from him. Probably to use this event against him so he felt indebted to him. This wouldn't work though -- It won't work.
As the red-eyed figures started to clothes in on Iggy, he saw fear in the boy's eyes. Jubilee must've sensed that too, "Iggy, he'd do the same for you."
"But--" the boy started to protest.
"He would" she confirmed in a low tone, "Duck!" she yelled out as he started to come back to reality.
* * *
Creed awoke as the sun poured in through a broken window. In front of him, Iggy covered in red soaked bandages as he felt something about the boy. Iggy was foolish, innocent and he believed in him when it came down to it -- those feelings would almost gave the boy a headstone.
"He's pretty banged up and he ain't completely healed -- ain't like he got a healing factor like ya," her voice snapped him away from his thoughts, "I know I'll owe ya big Creed, but I'd like ta look after the boy at least fer a couple of days. After that I'll give 'im to the X-men."
He looked over the boy, "Yah Jubilee, you'll owe me big," he tried to think of a witty retort, yet no words came to his lips. All he could do is walk out of the room.
"Ya cleaned the mess downstairs," his tone sounded like an order than a question.
"No --"
"I'll deal with it," he answered her quickly. He hid and dug bodies his entire life. He walked downstairs, pondering if the boy was worth all this trouble.