Being thoroughly soaked in the rain wasn't good for his skin, but he didn't have a choice. Knowing what it's like in the assassin business, he had to cover his tracks well. The frails that tried to kill him in that restaurant probably took down the license plate number on the S.U.V and since carrying anything would slow him down -- he didn't take anything important except for three thousand dollars out of the ten thousand he stole; that was all that he could hold on him without getting the money drenched.
Walking in the rain, mud slowing down movement and thunder booming every second made him love nature a little bit more. They'd been walking for hours or at least that's how long he thought they'd been walking. From the pace they were going and the number of steps they took, he presumed they were pretty far from where they started and going in the right direction.
For each step he took, the boy had to take two. He knew this and he still went at the grueling pace. Throughout this whole time he heard no complaints just the sloshing around of feet and her support for the boy.
The boy wanted to come and risked his safety in Creed's hands -- who was Creed not to take advantage of it? Hearing a plop and a splash, his grin became bigger.
"Ya decided to come boy, if ya can't keep yer mouth shut then --," he heard footsteps quickly get up as the boy now walked side by side next to Creed. He didn't care and just kept walking in the rain.
"Hey Creed, d'ya mind slowing down, the kid just recovered," she pointed out, but when he glanced to the side -- the boy had determination and grit written all over his face.
"Seems like he doesn't want to stop, ain't that right boy," he announced back to his tormentor. He noticed the boy not saying anything to his defense. Creed just shrugged and went on walking. After a few minutes, the young feral next to him fell down again, this time not getting back up.
"Creed, ya gotta take him somewhere he can rest," her demands made him look back.
"Why should I, I'm not slowin' down cause this brat ain't keepin' up," he knew he'd lose this argument; yet, he couldn't pass an opportunity to gauge the ghosts affections for the boy -- the stronger, the better.
"'Cause ya promised ta take of the kid in exchange fer Wolvie's life -- remember," he saw the rage build within her.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he mocked putting his hands up defensively, "I promised ta 'take' him with us, not take care of 'im," he crossed his arms and waited. He'd keep this up a little bit longer.
She automatically appeared in front of him, her words about to be demanded from gritted teeth, "I swear to God, if this boy dies, I will --"
Creed just rolled his eyes, walked back to the boy and carried him by the back of the overalls, "ain't got ta be all mad Jubilee," he scanned the area for decent cover, "a caves over there," he pointed out to the hollow point. Practically dragging the boy's body with him, he continued walking.
He gauged Jubilee's compassion for this boy, now he could use it to his advantage. He took some notes of the exchange as they got to the cave.
"Boy welcome to ya knew home fer tonight," he walked inside and when he felt they were a good distance inside, he dropped the boy. Lightning flashed outside, it would be too late to start a fire now.
He sat down against the wall of the cave and noticed Jubilee sitting next to the drenched boy who regained consciousness.
"Iggy can you get up," she asked in a concerned tone as the boy leaned himself against the cave wall opposite of Creed. Trying to catch his breath, the boy looked away from Creed.
"Like I said boy, ya can't keep up we can drop ya off fer the X-Men ta pick ya up -- as long as yer sorry frail mouth won't say nothin'," he let out the truth like claws piercing fresh meat, "ain't goin' ta be easier boy."
He looked at the two options the boy had. If the boy quit and went to the X- Men, he knew the boy wouldn't say anything because a broken boy wouldn't have many words to say. If the boy kept going, he could use the boy to his advantage against the ghost. Either way, he couldn't lose.
The boy took a couple of ragged breaths, "Thank you Uncle 'Tooth," the boy barely breathed out. How could a boy smile through such pain?
Creed couldn't help but laugh, "If ya like this, wait till tomorrow." He kept laughing as he saw the boy keep smiling -- so the boy was serious.
"I can't wait --" the boy breathed out as he sighed, resting his eyes. So this boy didn't break yet, he'd have fun finding it.
Sabretooth grew impatient. Though the rain stopped a while ago and the stars peered out through cloudy sky, he couldn't help but think he could do more. He could travel way more faster if he went solo, but here he was -- stuck in a cave with the still unconscious boy.
At least this made the spirit less loquacious. She hadn't talk to him the whole day -- too engrossed with the boy's trials and tribulation. She gazed upon the shallow breathing form with concerned eyes.
This whole environment reminded him what happened a few days ago. Did she have those eyes with him when he was unconscious? He shook his head; he didn't care.
He suddenly got up, "I'm goin' huntin'," he announced as he brooded off into the night. He heard no reply from the youthful feral or the concerned feral.
He'd been on the hunt for hours. He'd pick up a scent, but couldn't follow it. He'd see some footprints, but couldn't follow it. He wasn't hungry; he just needed to blow off some steam.
Wouldn't it be great if he could just run right now? He wouldn't be dealing with a weak youth that couldn't keep up and a ghostly tormentor who could control his body -- but didn't.
If he ran, she'd find him.
She'd probably be right in front of him, pissed off as ever, take control of his body (then find out about him breaking off the deal) and make his life tremendously uncomfortable once again.
He felt something nibbling on his leg, "What the -- " he exclaimed as he kicked it off as hard as he could. With a thud, the thing bounced off the tree and fell not moving. Drops from the soaked tree fell onto the fallen being. Creed went closer to find out what it was.
A raccoon -- how does raccoon come up to someone, bite it on the leg and not expect to get killed? He smelled the air, it seemed a raccoon wasn't the only thing in the area. The recent smell of rabbits, squirrels and deer were around -- how did he not notice them?
Shrugging, he picked up the thrashing raccoon. He felt the back become broken and graciously ended its life. This should be enough for him and the boy as a snack. He didn't want to feed the boy, but if it calmed down Jubilee -- then it's a small price to pay.
With the meal on hand, he started to walk back to where Jubilee and Iggy where.
He thought of the saying, 'there's more than one way to skin a cat,' and tried to apply it on what he was going to do. After walking for what seemed like forever, he was about five minutes away from the site, he contemplated if he should do the deed outside or inside.
He grinned, why not inside? He could show the boy a way to survive in the wilderness. The horrified look of the boy cleared his mind as he chuckled to himself. If he presented it right, Jubilee wouldn't have anything to say.
She'd say no, he'd say that doing it outside would ruin the meat and she didn't want the boy to go hungry, then she'd reluctantly say yes. Little by little, he'd gain his freedom through the boy.
He reached the site, "Honey, I'm home," he announced with a smile that foreshadowed his little plan. He was greeted with silence -- no surprise there. He entered deeper within the cavern, and found out they weren't there.
He scanned the area again. How could a cripple and a specter supposedly tied to him go away? He dropped the meat and snarled as he leaned against the wall of the cave. They'd return, she needed him to free her and the boy couldn't fend for himself in the wilderness.
They'd return.
He decided to busy himself by skinning the fur off the meat. His adamantium fingernail made a useful tool and soon enough a fluff of hair lay next to him. He skinned the raccoon and now the blood and meat seeped into the dirt floor. Growling to himself, he looked outside to see the sun peering out through the clouds – morning already?
He should just leave. If they were gone, then wasn't his task already done? Couldn't he just go back to the way of life before all this crap happened?
He'd go back to being the ruthless, cold, intelligent killer that terrorized every living being on this Earth. He wouldn't have to take care of that feral boy. He wouldn't have to listen to Jubilee's incessant talking.
He should be happy. He should be jumping up and down with glee, and then run hastily out to kill the next unfortunate person he saw; however, a familiar scent came back to him.
He sighed as he stood up, "Finally," he whispered to himself as he started to exit the cave.
The scent become strong at the exit, he turned to see Iggy standing there like nothing happened, "Where'd ya go kid?" he growled out to the unshaken form.
"What? Ya were worried or somethin'," that voice, it wasn't Iggy. He furrowed his brow as he inspected the boy in front of him. The stance was all wrong -- this stance showed pride and confidence. The smile, Iggy wouldn't smile with more hiding behind it.
"Jubilee," Creed spurted out as the form in front of him rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, Ya know it," the small feral pointed to himself, "surprised."
Creed tried to express his disbelief, only to be cut off by a 'Iggy' rubbing his head, "Can we take this inside?" Jubilee in Iggy's body asked, but didn't wait for a reply as it went inside.
"Yer takin' control of Iggy," he bluntly put it as he followed the possessed youth inside.
"I just wanted to see if I can do it -- and well -- you see the results," the youth leaned against the wall and slid down all the way.
"Thought ya can take over anyone's body," he sat opposite of the other feral.
"Nope, just you -- and now Iggy -- tried way back then," the boy barely breathed out giving the sentiments of Jubilee.
"Why ya doin' it now -- tryin' ta escape or somethin'," once again, Creed put it out bluntly. If this were his ticket to freedom, he'd incite any emotion.
"Aren't we full of questions today," the boy gave a classic Jubilee smile -- which took Creed by surprise, "but didn't I tell ya I tried that before, oh, two weeks ago -- where's yer mind at now Creed?"
He didn't respond right away. He had to soak in the feeling of his chances were once again dashed, "So why take over the boy anyway -- was this yer game the whole time?"
Jubilee's glare looked him straight in the eye, yet another trademark that took him by surprise, "The Igster couldn't stop thrashin' around in his sleep," she took a deep sigh and broke off the glare, "So I took over in order to relieve his pain for a bit."
"Relieve his pain, like Rolaids," Creed joked, as he clearly had no idea what she was talking about. His actions got him a pair of rolling eyes.
"Remember the time where ya flew out of the Viper and nearly ripped yer skin off yer bones," she paused for a bit waiting for a response that wouldn't come, "anyways, when I controlled yer body right after -- I didn't feel yer pain, everythin' was numb -- and I think seein' bone would say yer in pain."
She looked at him, like to make sure he got the next point, "Ya see, before I wondered why I couldn't have any feelings when I was in yer body -- like pain, or taste or whatever right -- I just found out through Iggy today."
Before he could ask why, she rubbed her head and went on with her speech, "Instead of feelin' pain, I get a flood of yer memories..."
So what she said was when she controlled a person she gains memories instead of feeling there pain...He got it...maybe...He did a double-take when his contemplation become interrupted when the spirit started to go away from Iggy's body and right in front of him was the familiar Jubilee specter.
"Give 'im a day ta wake up -- ya take less, but ya know yer like fifty times older," she ordered him. What was he going to do -- say no.
"Walkin' around and eatin' does heal yer body quicker -- if yer were goin' ta ask -- oh ya didn't eat yer dinner yet, might as well do that now," she pointed out to the bloody meat at the other end of the cave.
As he tried to take all this information in he went through the specter to get his meat, "Don't get my hopes up again," he yelled at the specter as she rolled her eyes and looked away. He grinned as he took bite out of the raw flesh. He smiled as he looked at the sleeping boy and the pissed off specter. They were once again his toys that he'd end up controlling.
Welcome Back -- unsaid words that made his grin bigger.
A few bites later, a pile of bones next to him and add a content burp -- that's the ingredients for a good meal. As he sat there looking around the cave, things got back to normal.
He sat silent on one side of the cave, while the specter of Jubilee looked over the sleeping Iggy. He couldn't just waste time like this. He could be walking towards in the middle of nowhere, killing more helpless woodland creatures or...
"So what ya see in the boy's memory?" this snapped the attention of the caring ghost. He could use what he knows about the boy and use it to his advantage.
"Gee when did ya become sensitive?" She sarcastically asked as she gave him a disgusted look. She probably knew his intentions.
"Wound me to tha quick Jubilee," he did his best English accent as he turned to the side and faced the open cave. The sun started to set once again and another day became wasted.
"I saw his mom before she got murdered," she solemnly blurted out. He turned around and faced her.
She looked at the dirt floor before she continued, "She didn't have a chance against a man like that," her gaze still on the ground, but the anger burned with every word.
"She went to see Iggy every night after the father tore off Iggy's fangs and claws," Creed instinctually touched his claws and fangs. She must know about what Creed went through as a child -- that's why she was bringing this up. Yet when he looked at her and heard the inclination in her tone, he knew she wasn't lying.
"She taught her son how to read, write and talk all proper like," she continued spilling her guts to him as she sighed, "Reminded me of my own mom."
A wave of memories flooded him, his short time with his mother, "what did she look like?" he absentmindedly asked. Before he could take back those words, she looked at him like he was a freak for a second, but quickly turned away.
"I don't remember much..." she answered after a long period of silence, "ya know runnin' with the X-Men, Gen X, X-Corps...yadda yadda yadda...ain't not that many people asked me what my mom looked like."
"Hey I'm just tryin' to make an advantage fer me later on," he informed her, showing he didn't care.
She ignored that comment, and he didn't know what that meant. Her silence could mean she caught on and decided on not giving the serial killer the advantage or...
"She had blue eyes, I remember them pleadin' with my father ta stop beatin' me," she shrugged as she looked at the boy, "born a girl -- that's me," she muttered under her breath, but he heard.
"At least ya weren't born a boy with a mug only yer mother could love," he blurted out. What was going on here? He couldn't hold his words in. Great, now he was going to get sympathy from someone dead.
"Ya ain't turn out that bad -- looks wise that is," she hurriedly let out. He didn't detect any sarcasm in her words. Was she actually telling the truth?
Taken back by that comic he tried to compose himself, "Just admit yer feelings of lust fer me already, ya know the tensions there," he winked at her as she rolled her eyes at him.
"Ya ain't no Brad Pitt buddy," she stuck her middle finger out at him without looking at him and he growled and looked away.
"No I'm better," he retorted back.
"No..." a yelp came from the other side, "Please..." He turned quickly to notice the boy started to sweat and thrash around.
"Creed ya gotta wake him up," She looked at him like he'd do what she asked him to. When he worked sole, Creed spent many a nights thrashing about some dreams. Dealing with them made him the strongest feral out there and if Iggy was going to be another one of his rivals -- then the boy should be able to deal with "bad dreams"
"What's the magic word," he played with her mind. He couldn't help but push a button right...
"Now," she yelled at him floating towards him, putting his hands up he got up.
Smiling at the boy, "thank the gods boy fer what ya about to receive," Creed put up his hands and slapped the boy across his face -- automatically waking up Iggy.
"That's what he has to be thankful for," she angrily went to Iggy.
"Yeah, I didn't beat the crap out of him," he shrugged as he went to sit down at his spot.
"Ya all right Igster?" her concern in her voice made him turn away. The boy started sobbing -- in front of him. He had to hold back to knock some sense into the boy again. He stood up and started for the exit.
"Boy yer up and better, we're leavin' now," he announced as he went outside to greet the stars and clouds.
Walking in the rain, mud slowing down movement and thunder booming every second made him love nature a little bit more. They'd been walking for hours or at least that's how long he thought they'd been walking. From the pace they were going and the number of steps they took, he presumed they were pretty far from where they started and going in the right direction.
For each step he took, the boy had to take two. He knew this and he still went at the grueling pace. Throughout this whole time he heard no complaints just the sloshing around of feet and her support for the boy.
The boy wanted to come and risked his safety in Creed's hands -- who was Creed not to take advantage of it? Hearing a plop and a splash, his grin became bigger.
"Ya decided to come boy, if ya can't keep yer mouth shut then --," he heard footsteps quickly get up as the boy now walked side by side next to Creed. He didn't care and just kept walking in the rain.
"Hey Creed, d'ya mind slowing down, the kid just recovered," she pointed out, but when he glanced to the side -- the boy had determination and grit written all over his face.
"Seems like he doesn't want to stop, ain't that right boy," he announced back to his tormentor. He noticed the boy not saying anything to his defense. Creed just shrugged and went on walking. After a few minutes, the young feral next to him fell down again, this time not getting back up.
"Creed, ya gotta take him somewhere he can rest," her demands made him look back.
"Why should I, I'm not slowin' down cause this brat ain't keepin' up," he knew he'd lose this argument; yet, he couldn't pass an opportunity to gauge the ghosts affections for the boy -- the stronger, the better.
"'Cause ya promised ta take of the kid in exchange fer Wolvie's life -- remember," he saw the rage build within her.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he mocked putting his hands up defensively, "I promised ta 'take' him with us, not take care of 'im," he crossed his arms and waited. He'd keep this up a little bit longer.
She automatically appeared in front of him, her words about to be demanded from gritted teeth, "I swear to God, if this boy dies, I will --"
Creed just rolled his eyes, walked back to the boy and carried him by the back of the overalls, "ain't got ta be all mad Jubilee," he scanned the area for decent cover, "a caves over there," he pointed out to the hollow point. Practically dragging the boy's body with him, he continued walking.
He gauged Jubilee's compassion for this boy, now he could use it to his advantage. He took some notes of the exchange as they got to the cave.
"Boy welcome to ya knew home fer tonight," he walked inside and when he felt they were a good distance inside, he dropped the boy. Lightning flashed outside, it would be too late to start a fire now.
He sat down against the wall of the cave and noticed Jubilee sitting next to the drenched boy who regained consciousness.
"Iggy can you get up," she asked in a concerned tone as the boy leaned himself against the cave wall opposite of Creed. Trying to catch his breath, the boy looked away from Creed.
"Like I said boy, ya can't keep up we can drop ya off fer the X-Men ta pick ya up -- as long as yer sorry frail mouth won't say nothin'," he let out the truth like claws piercing fresh meat, "ain't goin' ta be easier boy."
He looked at the two options the boy had. If the boy quit and went to the X- Men, he knew the boy wouldn't say anything because a broken boy wouldn't have many words to say. If the boy kept going, he could use the boy to his advantage against the ghost. Either way, he couldn't lose.
The boy took a couple of ragged breaths, "Thank you Uncle 'Tooth," the boy barely breathed out. How could a boy smile through such pain?
Creed couldn't help but laugh, "If ya like this, wait till tomorrow." He kept laughing as he saw the boy keep smiling -- so the boy was serious.
"I can't wait --" the boy breathed out as he sighed, resting his eyes. So this boy didn't break yet, he'd have fun finding it.
Sabretooth grew impatient. Though the rain stopped a while ago and the stars peered out through cloudy sky, he couldn't help but think he could do more. He could travel way more faster if he went solo, but here he was -- stuck in a cave with the still unconscious boy.
At least this made the spirit less loquacious. She hadn't talk to him the whole day -- too engrossed with the boy's trials and tribulation. She gazed upon the shallow breathing form with concerned eyes.
This whole environment reminded him what happened a few days ago. Did she have those eyes with him when he was unconscious? He shook his head; he didn't care.
He suddenly got up, "I'm goin' huntin'," he announced as he brooded off into the night. He heard no reply from the youthful feral or the concerned feral.
He'd been on the hunt for hours. He'd pick up a scent, but couldn't follow it. He'd see some footprints, but couldn't follow it. He wasn't hungry; he just needed to blow off some steam.
Wouldn't it be great if he could just run right now? He wouldn't be dealing with a weak youth that couldn't keep up and a ghostly tormentor who could control his body -- but didn't.
If he ran, she'd find him.
She'd probably be right in front of him, pissed off as ever, take control of his body (then find out about him breaking off the deal) and make his life tremendously uncomfortable once again.
He felt something nibbling on his leg, "What the -- " he exclaimed as he kicked it off as hard as he could. With a thud, the thing bounced off the tree and fell not moving. Drops from the soaked tree fell onto the fallen being. Creed went closer to find out what it was.
A raccoon -- how does raccoon come up to someone, bite it on the leg and not expect to get killed? He smelled the air, it seemed a raccoon wasn't the only thing in the area. The recent smell of rabbits, squirrels and deer were around -- how did he not notice them?
Shrugging, he picked up the thrashing raccoon. He felt the back become broken and graciously ended its life. This should be enough for him and the boy as a snack. He didn't want to feed the boy, but if it calmed down Jubilee -- then it's a small price to pay.
With the meal on hand, he started to walk back to where Jubilee and Iggy where.
He thought of the saying, 'there's more than one way to skin a cat,' and tried to apply it on what he was going to do. After walking for what seemed like forever, he was about five minutes away from the site, he contemplated if he should do the deed outside or inside.
He grinned, why not inside? He could show the boy a way to survive in the wilderness. The horrified look of the boy cleared his mind as he chuckled to himself. If he presented it right, Jubilee wouldn't have anything to say.
She'd say no, he'd say that doing it outside would ruin the meat and she didn't want the boy to go hungry, then she'd reluctantly say yes. Little by little, he'd gain his freedom through the boy.
He reached the site, "Honey, I'm home," he announced with a smile that foreshadowed his little plan. He was greeted with silence -- no surprise there. He entered deeper within the cavern, and found out they weren't there.
He scanned the area again. How could a cripple and a specter supposedly tied to him go away? He dropped the meat and snarled as he leaned against the wall of the cave. They'd return, she needed him to free her and the boy couldn't fend for himself in the wilderness.
They'd return.
He decided to busy himself by skinning the fur off the meat. His adamantium fingernail made a useful tool and soon enough a fluff of hair lay next to him. He skinned the raccoon and now the blood and meat seeped into the dirt floor. Growling to himself, he looked outside to see the sun peering out through the clouds – morning already?
He should just leave. If they were gone, then wasn't his task already done? Couldn't he just go back to the way of life before all this crap happened?
He'd go back to being the ruthless, cold, intelligent killer that terrorized every living being on this Earth. He wouldn't have to take care of that feral boy. He wouldn't have to listen to Jubilee's incessant talking.
He should be happy. He should be jumping up and down with glee, and then run hastily out to kill the next unfortunate person he saw; however, a familiar scent came back to him.
He sighed as he stood up, "Finally," he whispered to himself as he started to exit the cave.
The scent become strong at the exit, he turned to see Iggy standing there like nothing happened, "Where'd ya go kid?" he growled out to the unshaken form.
"What? Ya were worried or somethin'," that voice, it wasn't Iggy. He furrowed his brow as he inspected the boy in front of him. The stance was all wrong -- this stance showed pride and confidence. The smile, Iggy wouldn't smile with more hiding behind it.
"Jubilee," Creed spurted out as the form in front of him rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, Ya know it," the small feral pointed to himself, "surprised."
Creed tried to express his disbelief, only to be cut off by a 'Iggy' rubbing his head, "Can we take this inside?" Jubilee in Iggy's body asked, but didn't wait for a reply as it went inside.
"Yer takin' control of Iggy," he bluntly put it as he followed the possessed youth inside.
"I just wanted to see if I can do it -- and well -- you see the results," the youth leaned against the wall and slid down all the way.
"Thought ya can take over anyone's body," he sat opposite of the other feral.
"Nope, just you -- and now Iggy -- tried way back then," the boy barely breathed out giving the sentiments of Jubilee.
"Why ya doin' it now -- tryin' ta escape or somethin'," once again, Creed put it out bluntly. If this were his ticket to freedom, he'd incite any emotion.
"Aren't we full of questions today," the boy gave a classic Jubilee smile -- which took Creed by surprise, "but didn't I tell ya I tried that before, oh, two weeks ago -- where's yer mind at now Creed?"
He didn't respond right away. He had to soak in the feeling of his chances were once again dashed, "So why take over the boy anyway -- was this yer game the whole time?"
Jubilee's glare looked him straight in the eye, yet another trademark that took him by surprise, "The Igster couldn't stop thrashin' around in his sleep," she took a deep sigh and broke off the glare, "So I took over in order to relieve his pain for a bit."
"Relieve his pain, like Rolaids," Creed joked, as he clearly had no idea what she was talking about. His actions got him a pair of rolling eyes.
"Remember the time where ya flew out of the Viper and nearly ripped yer skin off yer bones," she paused for a bit waiting for a response that wouldn't come, "anyways, when I controlled yer body right after -- I didn't feel yer pain, everythin' was numb -- and I think seein' bone would say yer in pain."
She looked at him, like to make sure he got the next point, "Ya see, before I wondered why I couldn't have any feelings when I was in yer body -- like pain, or taste or whatever right -- I just found out through Iggy today."
Before he could ask why, she rubbed her head and went on with her speech, "Instead of feelin' pain, I get a flood of yer memories..."
So what she said was when she controlled a person she gains memories instead of feeling there pain...He got it...maybe...He did a double-take when his contemplation become interrupted when the spirit started to go away from Iggy's body and right in front of him was the familiar Jubilee specter.
"Give 'im a day ta wake up -- ya take less, but ya know yer like fifty times older," she ordered him. What was he going to do -- say no.
"Walkin' around and eatin' does heal yer body quicker -- if yer were goin' ta ask -- oh ya didn't eat yer dinner yet, might as well do that now," she pointed out to the bloody meat at the other end of the cave.
As he tried to take all this information in he went through the specter to get his meat, "Don't get my hopes up again," he yelled at the specter as she rolled her eyes and looked away. He grinned as he took bite out of the raw flesh. He smiled as he looked at the sleeping boy and the pissed off specter. They were once again his toys that he'd end up controlling.
Welcome Back -- unsaid words that made his grin bigger.
A few bites later, a pile of bones next to him and add a content burp -- that's the ingredients for a good meal. As he sat there looking around the cave, things got back to normal.
He sat silent on one side of the cave, while the specter of Jubilee looked over the sleeping Iggy. He couldn't just waste time like this. He could be walking towards in the middle of nowhere, killing more helpless woodland creatures or...
"So what ya see in the boy's memory?" this snapped the attention of the caring ghost. He could use what he knows about the boy and use it to his advantage.
"Gee when did ya become sensitive?" She sarcastically asked as she gave him a disgusted look. She probably knew his intentions.
"Wound me to tha quick Jubilee," he did his best English accent as he turned to the side and faced the open cave. The sun started to set once again and another day became wasted.
"I saw his mom before she got murdered," she solemnly blurted out. He turned around and faced her.
She looked at the dirt floor before she continued, "She didn't have a chance against a man like that," her gaze still on the ground, but the anger burned with every word.
"She went to see Iggy every night after the father tore off Iggy's fangs and claws," Creed instinctually touched his claws and fangs. She must know about what Creed went through as a child -- that's why she was bringing this up. Yet when he looked at her and heard the inclination in her tone, he knew she wasn't lying.
"She taught her son how to read, write and talk all proper like," she continued spilling her guts to him as she sighed, "Reminded me of my own mom."
A wave of memories flooded him, his short time with his mother, "what did she look like?" he absentmindedly asked. Before he could take back those words, she looked at him like he was a freak for a second, but quickly turned away.
"I don't remember much..." she answered after a long period of silence, "ya know runnin' with the X-Men, Gen X, X-Corps...yadda yadda yadda...ain't not that many people asked me what my mom looked like."
"Hey I'm just tryin' to make an advantage fer me later on," he informed her, showing he didn't care.
She ignored that comment, and he didn't know what that meant. Her silence could mean she caught on and decided on not giving the serial killer the advantage or...
"She had blue eyes, I remember them pleadin' with my father ta stop beatin' me," she shrugged as she looked at the boy, "born a girl -- that's me," she muttered under her breath, but he heard.
"At least ya weren't born a boy with a mug only yer mother could love," he blurted out. What was going on here? He couldn't hold his words in. Great, now he was going to get sympathy from someone dead.
"Ya ain't turn out that bad -- looks wise that is," she hurriedly let out. He didn't detect any sarcasm in her words. Was she actually telling the truth?
Taken back by that comic he tried to compose himself, "Just admit yer feelings of lust fer me already, ya know the tensions there," he winked at her as she rolled her eyes at him.
"Ya ain't no Brad Pitt buddy," she stuck her middle finger out at him without looking at him and he growled and looked away.
"No I'm better," he retorted back.
"No..." a yelp came from the other side, "Please..." He turned quickly to notice the boy started to sweat and thrash around.
"Creed ya gotta wake him up," She looked at him like he'd do what she asked him to. When he worked sole, Creed spent many a nights thrashing about some dreams. Dealing with them made him the strongest feral out there and if Iggy was going to be another one of his rivals -- then the boy should be able to deal with "bad dreams"
"What's the magic word," he played with her mind. He couldn't help but push a button right...
"Now," she yelled at him floating towards him, putting his hands up he got up.
Smiling at the boy, "thank the gods boy fer what ya about to receive," Creed put up his hands and slapped the boy across his face -- automatically waking up Iggy.
"That's what he has to be thankful for," she angrily went to Iggy.
"Yeah, I didn't beat the crap out of him," he shrugged as he went to sit down at his spot.
"Ya all right Igster?" her concern in her voice made him turn away. The boy started sobbing -- in front of him. He had to hold back to knock some sense into the boy again. He stood up and started for the exit.
"Boy yer up and better, we're leavin' now," he announced as he went outside to greet the stars and clouds.