Red and blue lights intertwined in the hazy night sky. Never had he gone to this place willingly, but with the slowing heartbeat he felt in his hands – it didn't seem like he had a choice. He deemed the automatic sliding doors too slow as he kicked it down, glass shattering everywhere.

They called for security; he heard it over the loud speaker. He just trudged his way past them with ease as he got over to a plastic window.

"Just sign the forms here and it'd be a two hour wait," the nurse had the audacity to ask him.

"The boy is goin' ta die if ya don't move yer fat ass behind that desk and help 'im," he growled out as he saw the nurse look up at him in horror. Without warning, two medical people came up and took the boy onto a gurney.

Creed followed, against the doctor's wishes, the moving gurney. When the other medical officials yanked out the clothes from of the boy, he smelled disgust along with Iggy's blood.

"Eww, it's a muta –" before that nurse could finish that sentence, he flung her to the other side of the hall. Growling and giving a glare to everyone else, and no one said a word.

"Sir, the boy is FY-A negative blood type, we don't have that blood typ --," The other nurse was going to announce, but Creed slashed his arm as blood poured down to the floor.

"Mine is that type frail, do it now," he ordered as the shaken attendant did what he told her to do. The attendant took him to a room as the people working on Iggy went to another. Actually, he didn't know what his blood type was, for all it could matter it could be anyone else; but something ticked inside of him that stated it'd better to give the boy a chance with his blood rather than no chance at all.

As he felt the needle go into his vein, he saw his own blood go into a pouch.

"Is this your son?" the attendant asked weakly as Creed only replied with a growl that shut her up. Iggy wasn't his son – just his protégé.

The pouch was full in a matter of seconds as the attendant silently took the needle out and the pouch and headed towards out the door.

"Sir! Please wait in the waiting room," she mumbled quickly as she went straight off to where Iggy fought for his life. He couldn't just sit in a waiting room full of frails he didn't have patience for. He got up and walked towards the room.

"Nurse, transfuse the blood already!" the doctor demanded as he heard the fumbling of tools. Creed hastily went in the room, to find the Iggy connected with tubes and wires throughout his body. The familiar lines of the machine that checks heart rate were sporadic. Sometimes it would go down and sometimes it would go flat.

Creed seen the lines all the time, some employers would want him to kill the victim while they where in the hospital. At the time he found it amusing to see the lines slowly turn flat and that annoying beep lingered in his ears.

He saw it – the line became flat. He heard it – that annoying ringing sound. He looked down at Iggy, someone he proclaimed as his protégé in his mind, become still. He only heard the ringing sound in his head as he saw the commotion in slow motion. They tried to resuscitate.

That's when Creed saw it. Iggy's spirit flew out from its body. Creed could only stare as the spirit of Iggy realized what was going on, he looked down and then looked straight at Creed. Everything became silent, the ringing of the machine, the hustle of medical technicians – everything – he heard what Iggy had to say to him.

I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough…

Iggy gave a weak smile as though to coincide with his apology. Even in the face of death, Iggy was still that polite kid. Iggy then turned his attention to down below as another spirit suddenly appeared next to Iggy's one – Jubilee's.

Don't be sorry Igster, seems like it ain't yer time ta go…

He heard her voice comforting Iggy. Her sudden gaze turned to Creed, as she gave a confident smile.

Igster, why dontcha go in there already, ain't yer time yet…

She gently pushed the boy, and it seemed like Iggy lost his balance. The spirit of Iggy went back inside its twisted shell.

Good…

She said to herself as she floated over to a dumbstruck Creed. His gaze followed the specter as she stood next to him. He felt her confidence and her warmth -- a familiar feeling.

"The boy's gonna be all right," she whispered in his ear. Even though he hadn't seen her in two weeks, thought of her as an illusion at first, and for a time hated her, he knew that she wasn't lying.

He trusted her...

"We got a pulse…" One of the nurses happily rang out, "He stabilized."

"Sir didn't you hear, the boy stabilized," the nurse called for the sullen feral again. He should be happy, Iggy was going to make a full recovery in a couple of days – or so that's what should happen; and, when he looked over Iggy, he could distinctly see the scars healing quicker to his amazement. The kid must have got something from him and he calculated that it'd only be a matter of a few hours before he, Iggy and the specter got on their way.

Yet he wasn't happy…

Rage boiled inside him and he didn't know what made him so angry. He felt blood flowing through his veins and he had a hard time trying not to growl at the people that saved Iggy's life. He started to walk away when the doctor stood in front of him with papers.

"Sir we need your insurance, the name of your son, the --," and before the doctor could look at Creed, the man was pushed to the ground. Creed eyed the doctor as he started to stalk the helpless being below him.

"Creed…Creed! ya need ta calm down, ya don't want any more attention than what ya got already," her spirit stood in front of her. He looked around. Guards surrounded the place with nightsticks at arms.

Creed would easily take care of these frails with one hand tied around his back, but then he looked over at Iggy, lying there. Grimacing, he took the form off the ground and stormed away.

He walked a couple of minutes, aimlessly wandering the hospital. He wanted to ask Jubilee what was going on. First, the runt appeared here with the façade of Jubilee. Second, Iggy looked he'd been through a meat processing machine. When he looked around to see that she wasn't there. He decided to look at the list presented in front of him – just to do something.

Patient Name…

He called Iggy "boy" the whole time they knew each other. He didn't know the boy's last name – only the first. They didn't talk to each other much.

Patient Age…

He didn't know Iggy's true age. The boy looked young and her never really gave a damn about him. Something swelled inside of him that he pushed away a long time ago. He didn't have time for these 'feelings' and he looked at the next item on the list.

Patient Sex…

Male, Creed smirked when he thought about the experiences before he got captured in Weapon X. He called it 'tradition' just to annoy Jubilee all those months ago, yet he let Iggy partake on the festivities. The look on Jubilee's face made his smirk grow wider. He looked around once again to see if Jubilee was near by – she wasn't. All he saw where the sickly frails sauntering to their pathetic rooms. Sniffing the air on disgust he went down the list to the next item.

Guardian Name…

Victor Creed, he automatically responded in his mind. Wait – did he just say his own name for this form? When he realized his response, he growled and threw the list onto a chair.

Sabretooth is a killer of the worst kind. Sabretooth killed people for fun without remorse. Sabretooth killed children like Iggy for a cash amount. Sabretooth killed Jubilee, Iggy's hardened supporter, with one swipe of that adamantium claw and he smiled afterwards.

He didn't take care of snot nose brats. He wasn't qualified to deal with snot nose brats. He then noticed the man cleaning up the blood that spilled on the floor earlier tonight – Iggy's blood and his own.

He wasn't Sabretooth when he barged in here looking for help for Iggy. Victor Creed looked for help. Victor Creed cut up his own arm to give his blood to Iggy so that his protégé would live.

Victor Creed became scared when Iggy flat lined…

Thinking about the issue made his head hurt. He saw the exit out of this hospital and took it. The snow falling on concrete suddenly surrounded him. He looked and saw the specter of Jubilee looking out in parking lot.

"Seein' Wolvie again…" she tried to start off but she floundered. Even without asking, Jubilee prepared to give him the lowdown on what happened the last two weeks. She shook her head as Creed went over to her.

"Someone took over my body and made Wolvie regain his humanity – ya know I just wish it was really me," the breath in her voice was like a distant dream. She didn't make eye contact with Creed.

Her snapshot comments would rile him up more than what he should feel; however, he stayed inclined to listen as his own thoughts came to mind. His mind became focused as questions started to pop up in his head. Why didn't she appear to him those two weeks? What happened to Iggy? What happened to her? Why was there a Jubilee with red eyes hanging out with the runt?

He thought of the questions, but couldn't grasp a single one. She looked over to him and gave a wayward smile.

"Thanks, Creed for takin' the Igster here, he missed ya when ya where gone," he knew that she couldn't find the words to express her emotions, but at the moment she told him that Iggy missed him, and for once he felt that the feeling was mutual.

Words weren't necessary at the moment and to anyone staring at the big blonde feral known as Victor Creed would've thought him to be somewhat at peace with himself. He felt the warmth of her presence as clouds of smoke left his mouth.

He felt something cold against his cheek as he looked up. White dots that formed up in the sky started to come down slowly and individually. For him, the absence of heat didn't bother him; however, he shivered a little bit. A smile, not a toothy one or a shady one, came over his hardened and aged face. The snow glided over and landed on him and he did nothing to take them off.