Marvel owns the rights to Sabretooth & Birdy, all others are my creation.
Reviews and constructive criticism welcome.
Victor was not a patient man. He had not been able to fall asleep in the hospital bed. The smell of bleach and disinfectants hurt his nose and everything smelled like plastic. He had no books or magazines and he only got the Home Shopping Network on the tiny TV hanging from the ceiling. The only positive he could see was that he was the only occupant in the room. His bed squeaked of plastic sheets as he leaned over and picked up the phone again.
"Victor – you have to stop calling me." Emma mumbled into his ear, clearly irritated at having been awakened.
"If I can't sleep, you ain't gonna either!" He barked. "Bring me some magazines…and a cheeseburger or five."
"What?" Emma talked into the pillow. "No. Visiting hours aren't for –" she paused while checking the clock, "another five hours. They won't let me see you."
"Find a way." He hung up on her with a clang of the phone and leaned back in bed. He found red droplets on his hospital gown, his nose had begun bleeding again. Sighing, he grabbed a handful of tissues and tried to mop up most of the mess. If he didn't love her so damn much….a thought occurred, if it wasn't for Emma, he would probably be running around naked in the woods, free from society. He grinned to himself, enjoying the idea.
A nurse quietly opened his door, he had heard her making her way down the hall, checking in on patients before she had even rounded the corner. She saw he was trying to stop his nose bleed but before she could even speak a word, Creed growled, "Fuck off, lady." The nurse, taken aback, complied and left swiftly from his room.
He didn't want to admit it, but he was beginning to worry. Creed pulled the tissues away to inspect them then toss them in the waste basket. Yer fallin' apart, Old Man, he thought to himself. He moved off the bed, letting the cold tiles shock his feet, then made his way to the private washroom to relieve himself and wash his face. His backside was feeling the chill of the open air, but he was not known for his modesty.
The clock told him only twenty minutes had passed and a grumble escaped him, upset that he was so far away from the comforts of his own home. It would be a while yet until Emma found a way into the hospital, she was probably still leaving the house, a good drive away. He began to pace, but when the small space became too cramped for him, he opened his door and began to walk the length of the hallway. It was empty except for a few moans of pain coming from one of his neighbours.
Occasionally he would peer into a room through the sliver of glass. Mostly he saw curtains. He bowed slightly to peer into the window of the room across the hall from his as he made his way back. There was a little boy of about five or six, staring out the window, clutching a teddy. The child didn't even hear the door open or shut and only noticed the big, hulking, feral mutant until Victor was standing at the foot of his bed.
The boy didn't make a sound but tightened his grip around the neck of the bear and smooshed it into his face, big brown eyes staring at Creed in fear.
"Why ain't'cha sleepin', kid." Creed enjoyed the scent of terror that was filling the air.
"Scared." The boy squeaked. Creed gave him a funny look before asking why. "I don't wanna die." The bear was lowered slowly from his face as something inherent told him that Victor was only a man, not a monster. His innocence allowed him feel safe with an adult.
"Everyone dies, kid." He had crawled onto the end of the bed cross-legged and hunkered over the child.
"My grandma died in her sleep, I want to be awake." He was tearing at the ears of the teddy, not really looking at the behemoth sitting on his bed.
"In yer sleep is the best way to go, all peaceful like. Won't hurt, ya won't be scared." Little did the boy know, Creed spoke from experience, mostly as the bringer of death, and none of his victims had had the luxury of dying peacefully or in their sleep.
The child still seemed unsure.
"What'cha in for?"
"My tonsils." Creed couldn't help but laugh loudly at this, bringing the nurse he had sworn at earlier to the door.
"Mr. Creed? I need to ask you to go back to your room." She frowned sternly at him. "Matthew needs his sleep."
Creed waved her off but slowly got up from the bed. He put a hand on Matthew's head, it nearly covered him completely, and bent down to whisper, "Nobody dies from tonsils, kid. It's me ya gotta worry about." And he grinned his toothy, fanged grin that clearly said he was up to no good. The boy finally saw the glint of Creed's claws in the moonlight as he left the room. Matthew raised the bear up again and crawled deeper under his covers.
The nurse shut the door quietly and then followed Victor back to his own room. She also shut the door behind him with a sharp snap and a frown. Stuck again, he sat on his bed, the covers pulled up and scattered across the plastic mattress. Suddenly a tapping at his window caught his attention.
Emma was perched on the very narrow ledge outside wearing dark-wash jeans and black heeled boots with a red tank top and a black leather jacket over top. To him, she looked mischievous and beautiful. She tapped again and he got up to open the window and pull out the screen. Emma slinked through the opening and dropped the ground as he put the screen back in place.
"How the hell did you get up here?" He gaped at her. It was cake for him, but Emma had never shown any prowess for climbing unscaleble facades.
"It's only three storeys." She gave him a show off grin as she caught her breath. She pulled off a small backpack and unzipped it on his bed, but Creed had other things in mind when he wrapped himself around her and started to nuzzle her neck. She tried to get away from him but he was quite intent now that he was aroused. "I don't want to have sex with you in a hospital!" She whispered, turning around to face him, pinned against the bed.
"I'm not really givin' you a choice." He bullied her into the bathroom and shut the door firmly behind them. Emma was knocked onto the counter and hit her head against the wall. It was cramped. Creed tore away his cheap gown and went for her jeans, slapping her hands away every time she tried to interfere.
He made good on his word and didn't give her much choice or warning as he pushed into her. She let out a small squeak of pain and dug her fingers deep into his shoulders, then her teeth. Victor reveled in the sensation of being bitten and pushed in farther, making her cry out again. It was getting easier and Emma was finally trying to get her legs around his waist, but he was working feverently now. The end came swift and loudly. Creed could smell that the nurse had entered his room but, realizing the situation, had turned around and left. Smart broad.
His thighs shook and he breathed in the smell of her, pinned to the wall against his hard body, she was breathing heavily too. Emma turned to face him and kissed his jaw. "Miss me?"
"Naw, I just really like cheeseburgers." He pulled out and grabbed a washcloth from the cheap metal rack above the toilet to clean himself off with. She swatted his backside and bent down to find her jeans and underwear. They traded stations at the sink until both were relatively cleaned and dressed. Emma pushed the door open and breathed in the night air from the open window.
Creed rifled through her backpack and put the burgers into a pile on the little wheeled table that sat beside his bed. She had brought him two magazines, the first was the current National Geographic, and the second was a gamer magazine. He had little interest in either, but Emma's problem had been that he had little interest in much of the selection of gas station reading, save for the porn. There was a book at the bottom of the bag, a tattered copy of Memoirs of a Geisha.
"Are you kiddin'?" He held the book up over his shoulder.
"It's one of my favourites, shut up." Emma was eating one of the cheeseburgers from the wrapper as she leaned against the window frame.
The nurse was back again and didn't knock as she swung open the door. "Mr. Creed, if I have to come back here one more time tonight –"
"You'll what?" It was Emma who turned nasty this time, shocking both the nurse and Creed. "Get out of here, I'll take care of my husband, thank you." For the last time that night, the nurse left the room speechless.
"What was that?" He grabbed a burger and stared at her.
"She was a total bitch to me yesterday." Emma shrugged and took another bite.
