(Three)
Not long after Leon got booted in the ass from an irritated Cajun thief, Creed grunted in his sleep and abruptly woke. He had fallen asleep in the hotel chair with the TV on and his neck was sore. Still, he didn't move. He had been awakened by voices. Someone was here. He cracked open an eye and breathed in a deep, quiet breath through his nose. He could distinctly hear three voices, but he couldn't smell anyone here besides himself. The bed next to him was empty. Kimble was in the bathroom and muttering softly. Creed relaxed a little, it was just his strange broken toy babbling away with itself.
"I cain't believe ya let him do that ta us!" Zander hissed.
"Wuzn't it great?" Lakotashay chirped happily. "I told Kimble the sex would be good. Wuzn't it, Lover boy?"
Kimble just sobbed.
Zander wasn't finished. "You two are so sick ya make me wanna puke! I thought it wuz bad enough that Kimble wuz all in love with that stupid Cajun pretty boy, now ya got us takin' licks like one of Valentin's lackeys! At least Remy never hit us!"
Creed squirmed in chair just a little as he felt a tightening in his chest. Victor Creed, let me introduce you to something new - guilt and remorse...and jealousy.
"H-he don' means it," Kimble sobbed. "It's just sumpthin' he does. H-he don' means it..."
"Oh, like all them times Valentin beat up yer Fallen? You've yelled at her fer takin' less! Why should you? You kin takes this guy easy. It'll be jus' like that time ya took down Wolverine in the Danger Room. Spike his ass an' leave!"
"I cain't...he loves me, I knows it."
"Uh, huh. Right. You don' know what real love is, not no more. This freak only wants the backwash, Remy loved us fer real. He never hurt us like this. He took us dancin', gave us chocolate, gave us Raul. That's what love is, not this sick shit."
Creed sat up in his chair and rested his elbows on his knees with his head down. He recognized all three voices but hadn't been properly introduced to everyone. He knew the girl, she was the one who had spoken to him directly when Kimble was first taken from Kyle. He thought her name was 'Shay. Yes, that's what Kimble had called her the day he confessed he was insane. She seemed kind of mean in Creed's opinion, she was always picking on Kimble. The rough gravelly guy concerned him, though. Victor couldn't remember this one's name. This guy was angry and hurt, always something dangerous.
"Remy wouldn't lay with us," 'Shay said in answer to Zander's complaints. "He thinks it's bad, the Master don't."
"And?" Zander snapped sarcastically. He could care less.
"Kimble needs the luvin'."
"What about you? What's yer feeble excuse?"
"I likes the pain. I hope he does it ta us again."
"Nnooo!" Kimble wailed sharply and Creed heard him go down to his knees and bump into the wall as he retreated. "I cain't! I cain't do that again...It wuz so bad...Oh, God!" Kimble's voice trailed off into wracking sobs as he began to bawl with more enthusiasm. "I won' go near a phone... I promise... never...no phone...no Remy...Oh, God, I'm so sorry! Uhhnn..." Kimble's voice trailed off into incoherent sobs, his pain and fear all too real.
From inside, a rattle of chains and another soft whisper in Siskan, We done a bad thing...
This time Kimble heard it and wailed again, sobbing even more loudly, mourning the loss of his sanity. He had grown to love Creed's rough love, Lakotashay's fondness for pain and suffering spilling over and corrupting him. What he had experienced just a few hours ago was nothing like that. That had been no game of love, not play as Kimble had come to know it. That was brutal and cruel, more than he could possibly take. He had woken prematurely from Mary's plasma rush, Zander's restless fury driving him mad. How dare the Master beat him like that? He had explained what he had done, but Creed hadn't listened. He hadn't wanted to. Kimble bawled, overcome with hate and self loathing. He had brought this on himself by letting Zander manipulate him like a fool, he had deserved it, but never wanted to feel that ever again.
Creed stood up and slowly walked over to the bathroom, completely silent in spite of his weight. He was a predator, a supreme hunter, but now all he felt was a sharp stabbing pain in his guts he didn't like. He realized now that it hadn't been Kimble he'd enjoyed last night, it was the other one, 'Shay. The one who was so mean to Kimble. This revelation bothered him for reasons he couldn't hope to explain. It was like he'd been tricked. He peeked in the door and was shocked.
Kimble was down in the corner against the bathtub on his hands and knees. His head was down against the floor, buried under a canopy of ebony hair, wet from the shower. He held a large crystal spike in each hand with a white knuckled death grip, his arms trembling from the strain. He was naked and shivering - his shower had not been a warm one, it had been a useless attempt to shut the voices raging in his mind, and water was splashed all over the floor as if he'd been fighting. His body was shaking as he cried, his soul tearing apart. He was horribly exposed, undone by all that had happened.
"He comes!" Zander snarled and Kimble looked up, his eyes wild with terror at the sight of his Master there in the doorway. He couldn't take another beating like last night.
"What ya doin' in here, Kim?" Sabretooth asked calmly, keeping his voice level.
"Kills him, Kimble!" Zander ordered, but the pilot didn't move. His trembling intensified and a terrible, aching whine leaked out of his tightly clenched teeth.
Creed crouched down and pulled a towel from the rack, laying it over Kimble to warm him. He reached for one of the spikes, his movements slow and careful.
"Kills him! I wants it! Ughh! Stop fightin' me! Come on, Kim! Give it up!" Zander howled.
"I ain't no killer..." Kimble protested, twitching and twisting his head. He was talking out of both sides of his mouth, wrestling with himself.
Creed was trying to remain calm, but his mind was reeling. He knew Kimble wasn't right in the head, he had heard the voices that first day and didn't pay it much mind. Kimble had even admitted to being off his rocker. Still, Creed hadn't been concerned. Since Kimble had settled in the penthouse, his disturbing voices had been silent and he thought maybe Kimble was just fooling around or trying to pull some stupid mind game when he had admitted to being split. That hadn't been true after all, Sabretooth was sure of that now. He had gotten a little too carried away with his anger last night and Kimble was freaking out. The real Kimble. The one who followed him around playfully and was so attentive and thoughtful. That one was shattered here on the floor, groveling in puddles of water and shivering all over. It made him sick with guilt to see it.
"Easy, Kim. Give me the spike," Creed said in his best soothing voice.
"Yes, Master..." Kimble wheezed, ever obedient, and twitched violently with a frustrated grunt. Zander wouldn't let it go and Creed had to carefully pry it loose. He could feel Kimble's muscles bunching and tensing below him and knew the power of them. He could also feel telekinetic waves tickling the hair on his arms as Kimble and Zander waged war against one another. He knew Kimble had powers, had been spiked through by Kimble himself at Cameron's house in Baltimore, yet kept forgetting the fact of Kimble's abilities all these weeks. Kimble was a powerhouse walking loose and free through his life, never harming him, not even once since he'd lived under Creed's roof.
"You sick fuck!" Zander snarled. "I hates you! I hates you fer hurtin' us!"
"I'm sorry," Creed said, actually meaning it.
"Liar! You liked it! You likes hurtin' us!"
"No," Creed replied calmly, reaching for the other spike.
"You ain't gonna hit us no more?" 'Shay asked woefully. "No, that's not fair!"
Zander howled with rage. "Shut up, ya bitch! Yer worse than he is, askin' fer it! I hates you, too! I hates alla yous fer never listenin' ta me!" he complained bitterly. New tears streamed from the pilot's eyes as Zander's rage increased.
"Help me!" Kimble pleaded, looking up into the eyes of his Master. "I cain't holds him back!"
Creed nodded and pulled Kimble up against him, warming his soaked and shivering body with his heat. He said nothing more, but embraced Kimble tightly, one arm holding the remaining spike at bay. He wasn't afraid of it, he had suffered far worse. It was the idea of it.
"He's a monster, Kimble!" Zander argued, feeling the Lover calm from his Master's warmth and touch. This is not what he wanted.
"So am I," Kimble responded, his voice going dreamy and quiet as he relaxed. The Master had known just what to do. So wonderful, these strong, huge arms holding him.
"No, you ain't," Creed said, using his thumb to rub the pulse point on the wrist of Kimble's outstretched arm, rubbing gently in the rhythm of his own heartbeat. He was outwardly calm, but Kimble's reaction here was frightening him. He didn't want Kimble to be in pain like this. "Yer good an' yer kind. You never once did anything ta hurt me...even when I deserved it."
Kimble sobbed and released the spike with a shudder, letting it fall to the bathroom floor with a clink. "I'm all broked up inside..."
"I know. I can see that," Sabretooth replied with a wry chuckle. "You gots a whole crowd in there, just like ya said." He folded Kimble's arms closer to keep in the warmth, still gently rubbing his wrist.
"N-no phone...no phone..I promise...d-don't hits me like that again, please!" Kimble blubbered like a child, breaking down again. "It hurt me so bad...!"
Creed lowered his head to rest it on Kimble's. How many men had he tortured to hear them beg and plead like this? Now he was the one in agony. "I won't."
"I liked it, what about me?" Lakotashay complained.
"Shut up, 'Shay. No one asked you," Creed grumbled. "I know it was you last night. You tricked me. You just shut yer yap and go back ta wherever it is ya hide."
"Yes, Master," she replied with a pout, her voice soft and quiet.
"You want to go home, Kim?" Creed asked, his heart hammering in his chest.
"Ya said the penthouse wuzn't safe."
"No. Back ta Remy. I heard ya talkin' about him."
"Yes!" Zander blurted out, his hopes soaring. He couldn't believe their luck. "Lets us go! Yer breakin' us all ta pieces! Let us go!"
"Shut up, you," Creed said, still not having caught Zander's name. "I was askin' Kimble!"
"No," Kimble said, rushing to speak his mind. "No, Master. My place is with you. Remy...Remy wuz my friend, he looked after me, took good care of me, but that's it. I wuz always alone, not with somebody. Not like it is here with you an' Mary. I-I don' do so well when I'm alone. I gots ta have the lovin', the fuckin'. I gots ta hear yer heart beatin', glowin' all inside my head. It stops alla the fightin', screamin' in my head. It does...it does... I loves ya, Kristalay, I do. Don' leaves me, please...I didn' mean ta makes ya so mad."
Sabretooth was mildly surprised to hear Kimble speak this way about Gambit. The boy he knew didn't give a shit about anybody but himself. He lied and conned his way through scores of women and had no real friends, just people that he used over and over again. It just didn't seem possible that they were the same guy. It also unsettled him to hear Kimble say such loving things about being with him. He had no illusions about his ways. Living with him was brutal. Last night was a prime example of that. Was it possible that after all this time, someone actually loved him? No way - pigs weren't flying and Hell hadn't frozen over last he had checked. This was impossible.
"So ya wanna stay? Stay fer real?" he asked, still not quite ready to believe.
"Yes. Don' leave us...don' bring us back...don' gives us ta Jael...please...don' wanna go... no phone... I'll be good, I promise!" Kimble continued to quietly sob.
"I ain't lettin' ya go. Gonna take ya up ta Maine. I got a nice place up there. We can stay there a coupla weeks. I gotta come back and do a job here in the city for part of the time, but I'll take ya with me. Then we'll come back, maybe have Christmas."
"Is there snow up there...?"
Creed grunted a surprised laugh. "Yeah, why?"
"I likes the snow."
"I kinda figgered that out."
"Don' give up on me, Kimble," Zander growled. His tone betrayed his defeat, Kimble had closed his eyes and was limp in Creed's embrace.
"You shut yer yap, too," Creed ordered.
Zander just laughed in contempt. "You might own them two wimps, but yer never gonna be the Master of me. There's gonna be a reckonin' 'tween you and me, ya cocksuckin', shit eatin' bastard son of a cunt lappin' whore. Count on it. I didn't take no shit from Logan, I ain't takin' it from you!"
Creed could feel the rage. He had never heard such language come from Kimble and he knew this was no joke. It frustrated him that he was confronted by a force he couldn't fight. To hurt Zander would hurt Kimble. "You just back off there, son. What's done is done. Fergit it."
"Never! I don' ever fergit nuthin'!"
"Zander...just wanna sleeps now," Kimble mumbled. Creed's high metabolism had pumped him full of luscious warmth and he was tired and drowsy in Creed's lap, mentally exhausted.
"I'm always gonna be here, lookin' out fer us," Zander promised and quieted.
"Kimble?" Creed asked after a moment. The pilot had begun to softly snore.
"S'? What? Master...?"
"Let's get out of here."