Early in the morning, Quetzal knocked on the door to Beast's lab. "Excuse me, doc?"

Beast looked up from his reading at her quiet voice. "Yes Quetzal?"

Seeing that he didn't seem angry at her made Quetzal at least meet his eyes. "I'm really sorry about scaring you," she said. "I'm not sure what happened last night. If it means anything at all, I was . . . afraid. That I'd brought him here. And I'm really, truly sorry."

"You apology is accepted Quetzal, but you'll understand if we're all a bit wary this morning." Forgiveness was possible, but forgetting seemed to be a singularly bad idea. "We need to look into precautions to keep whatever happened last night from happening again."

"Dangerous animals," she said in a voice that was mostly sorrowful but carried a harsh edge of bitter anger. "Need to be leashed."

"Don't be like that Quetzal. You're a young woman with a mutation that affects your mind. I don't hold that against you, none of us do. But you're also an abnormally dangerous mutant. Atyp." He corrected himself when she winced. "And that's not your fault either. It's not unusual for an atyp to take precautions when their powers can't be controlled. Like Rogue and her gloves and Scott and his glasses."

"But I can control it," Quetzal said. "Nothing like last night has ever happened before. Ever."

"Your mutation may still be manifesting. You may in fact be undergoing a secondary mutation. You might be experiencing some ill effects from your first contact with Dark Beast or your time in the camp. We'll help you through this, whatever it is. But you have to work with us, so we all stay safe."

She opened her mouth to say something but closed it again. "Thank you," she finally settled on. "If I could trouble you just a bit further, I'd like to get some more anti-venin made."

Beast marked his place in his book. "Not a problem at all." It was, in fact, a relief. Part of the previous night was a discussion about whether they could at least draw off her venom. Her unprompted volunteering to do so was fortuitous. "I can get everything set up and we can do it this afternoon."

"Thanks. Can I have a few of the anti-venin doses you've already got prepared?" she asked. "I was thinking it wouldn't be a bad idea to carry some on me, just in case."

Keeping the antidote close to the poison sounded like a good idea. He handed her two of the doses. "I designed it for maximum portability. It's shelf-stable, and it works just like an epi-pen. Do you know what to do with those?"

"Yeah, I took a first aid course a year ago." Quetzal pocketed the doses. "Thanks." She sighed. "You said you might be able to get the shard of crystal out, I think I'd like to do that." She swiped at her eyes. "I mean, you meant what you said, that you'd try to find a way to get me home, right? That's . . . still true."

"It's still true."

The phone buzzed in Quetzal's pocket, alerting her to a text message. It was Victor Creed's number.

What the hell is going on?

Quetzal breathed a deep sigh of relief. He was okay. She had been worried that Dark Beast had gone after him first. She typed out a message in response. Not sure. Probably nothing. She glanced at Cyclops who was sitting across from her at the breakfast table. Not a good time 2 talk, she added.

Meet me at the park. ASAP

She sighed deeply. There wasn't time today for this kind of stuff. She'd already packed her things to go, but there was still things she needed to do before she left. She had to talk to Cyclops, get the next doses of anti-venin started, talk to the kids about why she had to leave, and start looking for a new job and place to live. Tomorrow, she promised.

Now.

Not a good time, she replied.

Now, he repeated.

Quetzal shoved the phone into her pocket and polished off the last of her oatmeal. "I'm going out for a flight," she announced. "I'll be back in a little while."

"You sure that's a good idea?" Cyclops asked. "After last night?"

"You'd rather keep me cooped up in a small space with people in it?" She said it with a smile, but left a little edge to the question. "I'll be back in a bit. Hank said he draw my venom this afternoon to make another batch of anti-venin."

Quetzal went up to the room, typing in a last text. Be there soon. Going offline. She pulled the battery out of the phone. After what happened last time she left for a rendezvous she wasn't going to risk bringing anything that sent out a traceable signal. She left the battery under her pillow and took the rest of the phone with her. She also stuffed a clean shirt and pants into her bag, something she wouldn't mind ditching for a few days to get the scent off of them.

It wasn't a particularly good day for a flight, but the air was smooth enough that she was able to make good time as she winged her way to the city.

Quetzal landed with a thud, shaking her long feathers loose so she could pull on her hooded sweatshirt. She'd left her bag with the clothes she'd been wearing at the start of the day hanging in a tree about two minutes flight from the mansion.

"Took you long enough to get here," Sabretooth grumbled.

She pulled the shirt down over her head. "Nice to see you too."

"What the hell is going on? What were those messages about?"

"Oh come on, you could have asked me that over the phone."

"I needed to see if you were going crazy."

She paused. "I might be. It's a possibility. I don't think I am." She sighed deeply. "It's a long story."

He opened the car door for her. "Tell it to me over breakfast?"

And for the first time that morning she smiled.

Beast looked up from his reading again when the door opened. Logan was standing there, tapping an envelope in his hand. "Have you seen Quetzal?" he asked.

Hank set his research aside. "She was in here very early this morning. Why?"

"Nothing important."

Hank didn't particularly appreciate being bullshitted before he'd even finished his first cup of coffee. But he wanted to finish the stack of journals sitting on his desk more than he wanted to further pursue the enmity between Quetzal and Wolverine. "Try the kitchen. If nothing else she made arrangements with me to get her venom drawn this afternoon."

"How'd you swing that?"

"She came to me. So we had a lucky break there."

"I'm gonna keep looking for her."

Hank reached for the journal again. "Play nice."

"If it's any consolation," Sabretooth said. "You don't seem crazy."

Quetzal dragged a claw through the traces of egg yolk left on her plate. "Not really. If I'm not crazy then something bad is happening."

"You seem capable of dealing with bad things."

"Now that is a consolation." She licked the tip of her claw off. "Much as I'd prefer to live a quiet life. Still, if someone's messing with me, I'm gonna teach them not to."

"You can't let people get away with screwing with you. It's bad policy." He checked his watch. "Speaking of which –"

Quetzal picked up her fork, ready to stab if need be. "That's not a good transition."

He grinned. "Toad should be meeting me here soon. He may still be under the impression I killed you."

"We don't need to go through that song and dance again do we?"

He laughed. "No, but I thought you might like to be here for the payoff. It'd go quite a ways towards solving your rent money problem."

"You didn't kill me and you're going to take his money anyway?"

"He's very lucky I'm not gonna kill him. And this is more fun."

"You're twisted."

He shrugged. "You could always leave."

Quetzal smiled as she slid out of the booth. "Scuse me. I need to powder my nose."

"He should be here in five minutes."

Wolverine searched Quetzal's room. The envelope was sitting on her night stand as he went through the packed duffel bag. It was half-packed with her clothes and the few items left from when she landed. And a combat knife and riot baton of unknown origin.

There wasn't much in the room. She kept it sparse. Whether it was due to lack of belongings or a desire to be able to move quickly, Wolverine couldn't say.

He wasn't concerned about getting his scent over her things. Things were past the stage of subtle investigations and sniping at each other from the corners. There was going to be a confrontation when she got back from her flight.

Logan could hardly believe his luck when overturning her pillows revealed her phone. The battery was gone, but the SIM card was still inside. Even better luck was knowing that Storm had the same model of phone. He took the SIM card and went to go find Storm.

Toad sat down across from Sabretooth. He was looking better. "So she's dead then?"

"She put up a bit of a fight."

Toad grinned. "I bet she did."

Having crept up quiet as a mouse, Quetzal slid into the booth next to Toad, trapping him between her and the wall. She grinned, baring her fangs. "She put up more than just a bit of a fight."

Something sharp jabbed Toad in the ribs.

"Victor," he hissed. "What's going on?"

Quetzal's smile was wide. "I worked out a better deal with him. The two of us split the cash you brought. And you," she jabbed him again. "You don't have to find out which one of us is more pissed at you. Doesn't that sound brilliant?"

He swallowed hard and glared as hard as he dared at Victor. "What do you have to be upset about?"

"She hits really hard," Victor said.

Quetzal held up her bandaged wrist. "And he bites."

Toad passed the paper wrapped bundle to Quetzal. She dropped the fork on the table. "I knew we could all be friends," she practically chirped. "Would you like some pancakes? I'm gonna get some more pancakes. Mr. Creed?"

"Just coffee."

"Waitress!"

Quetzal flew back to the mansion. Victor Creed had a twisted sense of humor, but that didn't really surprise her. She was just glad she wasn't on the receiving end of it. She was even happier that indulging him earned her five thousand dollars. That would be plenty to live off of while she looked for a way to get settled in the city.

There were just a few things left to do. Get her venom drawn, talk to Cyclops, and pick up her things. Maybe grab a snack. Then she'd put distance between herself and the X-men. By nightfall everyone would feel safer.

She landed in the tree her bag was hanging from. It was a rough landing with the branches in the way, but she recovered the bag and dropped to the ground. She changed quickly, yelping briefly to herself as the cold air blew through her feathers.

As she was reaching into the bag for her wool cap her fingers brushed against the battery to her phone. "Aw, flipping heck," she swore. She'd meant to leave the battery and bring the phone. Well, there wasn't anything to be done about it now. Stupid mistake though.

Quetzal bundled the clothes with Sabretooth's scent on them and stuffed them under a rock. She'd pick them up later, after she left the mansion.

With two miles left to the Mansion, Quetzal decided to walk. Getting out of the trees would be challenging enough, but the winds were starting to pick up. One good down draft might knock her back into the branches before she could get enough distance between her and the ground, then she'd be picking splinters out for the better part of the day.

Impatient to see Quetzal, Wolverine was ranging through the woods, more to work off energy than in any hope of finding the girl. He was just as surprised as she was when he ran across her.

After a surprised yelp Quetzal settled down, rubbing at her sternum. She'd been lost in thought, studying the ground as she walked. "Flipping heck," she said. "You scared the life half outta me. You make less noise than a darn cat."

"Where have you been?" Logan asked.

Quetzal shrugged. "Same place I was last time. Out. Getting some air and some coffee. I didn't want to stay cooped up after last night."

"And once again, I'm just supposed to believe that?"

She was not in the mood to argue. "Enough. I'm leaving okay? I'll be out of your hair and I won't be a danger anymore. I'm just going back to the mansion to get my things. Then I'm gone."

Wolverine pulled a folded manila envelope from his jacket and opened it. "We've gone a long way past you just leaving." He pulled out a photograph and tossed it at her.

Quetzal snatched the photo from the air. Already she knew this wasn't going to end well. Looking at it confirmed her worst fear. It was a picture of her and Sabretooth taken shortly after their encounter at the coffee shop. The picture showed him wrapping a bandage around her wrist.

"I got the text messages off your phone too," Wolverine said.

She would have sworn on her life that there was no one close enough to take pictures. The existence of the photo opened up questions and implications that there was no time to think about. "This is exactly what it looks like." She flung the picture back. "At Genosha . . . . I did things I didn't think I was capable of. My father told me I was a wolf and he was more right than he could have known. I needed advice."

"So you thought it only made sense to turn to a brutal sociopath for it."

"I only know two wolves," she snapped back. "You and him. And turn to you for advice? Talk to you about my feelings, weaknesses and worries? That wasn't gonna happen. You hate me. I had no choice!" she laced her voice with as much acid as she could manage, hoping to put him on the defensive.

"Of course! There was absolutely no one else on the planet you could have turned to."

"Wolves don't live like sheep. It's not their nature. Just because you can't accept what you are doesn't mean I have to reject it. God made lambs, but he made wolves too."

"God didn't make you. You're a damn science experiment."

Quetzal felt like she'd been slapped. She couldn't find any words to express her rage. Her claws were digging into the palms of her hands. "This is why I went to him. You never gave me a chance."

"I guess there's some sense there," Wolverine acceded. It didn't lower her alert level. "So the first time you made contact with him was after Genosha. You just needed advice."

Warily, wondering where the next attack was going to come from, Quetzal answered. "Yes. That's it exactly."

Wolverine threw the second picture at her. "Lying little bitch," he snarled.

Quetzal was angry enough that she missed the picture when she snatched for it. She grabbed it from the ground at her feet. Her fingers had barely grazed it when Wolverine leapt at her.

The impact knocked the wind from her. She scratched at him as she went down but he quickly pinned her under his weight. Further fighting on her part was discouraged by the claw he set against her throat.

Wolverine grabbed the second picture out of the snow and held it in front of her face. "This one was taken before Genosha," he growled. "Start talking. What have you two been planning?"

Quetzal stared at the picture. It was her and Victor Creed. Clearly taken before her time at Genosha because she still had her long red braid. In the photo he was handing her a book. She was stunned into silence.

"Answer me!" Wolverine yelled.

She grinned up at him, but hate was in her golden eyes. Her exposed fangs combined with the glare to turn it into a feral, crazed look. "Victor Creed is my father."

"Bullshit." But everything clicked at once and he knew she was telling the truth. Her tooth-jarring laugh was a higher-pitched echo of Sabretooth's. Her walk was a more feminine version of his prowling gait. And the bared-fang grin and hateful eyes that stared up at him now were definitely familiar. "So you've been lying the whole time."

She chuckled. "Not once. By the time I hatched he had long since retired."

"You said your father's name was dos Santos."

"It is. He took my mother's name after she died. Victor Creed is a hard name to hide with. Amazing how much of the truth you can hide without ever telling a lie. I went looking for Sabretooth because I needed my father's advice. He's a son of a bitch, but he's the closest thing I've got to family here." She squirmed under his weight, trying to get comfortable in the snow.

"I don't buy it. You two are up to something."

She laughed. "Get over it runt. I was telling the truth since I got here. You just weren't smart enough to add up all the bits and pieces. Don't take it personally. Hardly anyone is. My family's awfully good at this."

Wolverine pressed the edge of his claw against of her throat as hard as he dared. He didn't want to kill her, just scare her into the truth. "Talk."

He could hear her heart thudding in her chest. "What do you want to hear? You want me to make something up? Will that make you feel better? To hear that I'm some kind of snake that was welcomed with open arms? I'm no snake."

Before Wolverine could say anything else, her tail snapped into the back of his head, stunning him and knocking his weight off center. Her wiggling had been hiding her growing tail. With an arm free she reached for his face, nearly digging her claws into his eye. She sunk her teeth into his arm.

He wasn't prepared for the onslaught as she kicked, scratched, and bit her way free. Any counter moves at that point would have been potentially lethal and he didn't want to kill her. Wolverine let her fight free.

Quetzal scrambled away and turned, ready for another attack.

"If you were his kid it would have showed up on the genscan," Wolverine extended the claws on his right hand to their full length. He was ready for a fight too. But he didn't have much doubt that she was who she said he was.

"I was adopted. I'm still a construct."

"You're a damn Creed."

Her face split in a crooked, leering grin. "Daddy's little angel." Then she threw her head back and screamed.

When she took the deep inhale Wolverine quickly covered his ears. His sense of balance went off, but he wasn't incapacitated.

Quetzal hadn't waited to see what affect she had before she sprung at him. Her claws went straight for his eyes. Her weight knocked him to the ground. "You'd kill him if you got the chance wouldn't you!" there was an insane light in her eyes.

"Damn straight." He threw her off before her claws closed round his throat.

She wasn't going to be shaken loose so easily. This time her claws went for his eyes. "Like you killed my mother?! Like you tried to kill me?!"

The girl had snapped. She wasn't connected to the current reality anymore. Wolverine tried to incapacitate her without killing her, but she wasn't making it easy. Even in her crazed state she fought well. He felt his claws cut into her flesh and scrape along bone. He pulled his claws back before they could cut through the bone.

With a scream she pulled herself away. Her hand was clamped over her right eye and blood was streaming between her fingers. Her good eye had that feral look again. The same look a wild creature had, no emotion, just pain. Before he could say anything she flung herself at him again. This time she got her teeth in his throat as she tackled him to the ground. One of her hands found his face, dragging her claws from his forehead to his jaw. Her toe claws had cut through the canvas of her shoes and she kicked at him, trying to find soft tissue.

Half blinded and in a world of pain Wolverine's world was in sensory overload. He wasn't fighting a talented kid anymore. He was fighting a Creed, and she was out to kill him. Disorientation, pain, and the blood filling his senses made it too hard to think. The too familiar feel of claws cutting into him triggered his own survival instincts.

Quetzal's internal world was quiet except for the flare of pain on the side of her face. Chimeras were bred for this after all. While it had been her rage at finally targeting the man who would kill her family that goaded her into attacking, it was the Creature that fought now. The Creature understood pain, but deeper than that she understood that she now had a primary target between her teeth.

Instincts were quiet things. She didn't need to think about where to bite or scratch. She didn't need to think about cutting up and under the ribcage to avoid the tough bones and get to the soft organs. It just came naturally. There was no anger. She was a predator, he was her rightful prey.

There was a pain in her belly that the Creature ignored. It was better this way. Let him get his claws tangled in her and then her sisters would be able to kill him with ease. She shrieked her hunting call to bring them. The call went unanswered. She bit, using her full dose of venom. Then she shrieked again.

The unanswered call was distressing the Creature. Where was her pack? Where were her hunting sisters? Where was her family?

Thoughts of family woke the human up again. She was aware of the pain, but only dimly. It was hard to breathe and her mouth was full of the taste of blood. And she heard her dad's voice echoing in her head. No baby, my nightmare was that he killed you.

Quetzal screamed in two different kinds of pain. The pain she suddenly felt in her belly and the tearing feeling near her heart, and the sudden realization of what she'd done. She flung herself up and back, away from Wolverine. She tried to staunch the blood flow coming from the cuts in her stomach. They were deep.

Wolverine's cuts were already pulling together. But she saw the blood coming from his eyes. He'd been poisoned. Already his breathing was fast and shallow. The venom was affecting him faster than she would've thought.

She fumbled at her pocket and came up with one of the doses of anti-venin. She threw it at him. "Take the anti-venin," she panted. "The venom's designed to kill superhealers. Take the antidote now or it'll be too late."

Wolverine stood over her. He could feel the poison spreading faster than his body could cure it. "Why?" he asked, injecting the contents of the ampoule.

"I'm not . . ." Quetzal took as deep a breath as she could before the pain struck. "Going to let the Creature kill you."

She closed her golden eye. She looked so pale and fragile. Wolverine knelt, trying to figure out how much damage he'd done to the girl. "Don't move. I'll get you back to the mansion."

When the eye opened she was a Creed again. She bared bloodstained teeth at him. "Because I'm gonna be the one to kill you, runt."

And with that, Quetzal was gone. Not dead, vanished. There had been a small popping sound as the air collapsed in on where she had been. There was nothing around Wolverine but bloody snow and a few scraps of clothes.

Wolverine knelt there for a while. Gradually his breaths came easier. He looked around at a loss. But in the end there was nothing he could do. He picked up her bag and started back to the mansion, wondering what he was going to tell the others.

Quetzal was nearly insensate as she fell. The distance she fell wasn't nearly as far as the last time. The impact sent a fresh flare of pain through her body and she yelped in response. She lay flat on the metal floor, appreciating the cool feeling against her cheek. She smelled her blood pooling around her. Her consciousness was trickling out with the blood.

There was a feminine scream. "You have to help my sister!" Soft hands turned Quetzal over, putting pressure on her wounds.

Quetzal forced her good eye open. The image was blurry but she knew who it wasn't. "Yurr not –" she slurred. "Not Sally." Quetzal closed her eye again.

"We don't have a sister." Another set of hands grabbed at her. They moved professionally, checking her pulse, pulling back her eyelid. He picked Quetzal off the ground, carrying her away from where she fell.

"Simon you have to help her!" The young woman shouted.

"I will."

Quetzal was dropped on a softer surface than the floor.

"I'm a doctor. I'm going to help you. What's your name?"

His voice was very far away. It was like she was sinking to the bottom of a pool. Answering his question was too much effort.

"Stay with me."

Quetzal knew should fight. She should swim back to the top of all that water she seemed to be underneath. But something deeper than sleep was coming to claim her and she just wanted to stop fighting.

As she slipped under there was another voice. "Doc, you want to explain what this gorram girl is doing on my ruttin' ship?"

"Bleeding to death unless I do something."

And then she let the darkness cover her like a blanket.

Author's Note: Well that's the end of Verse 1. It took 64,000 words and nearly a year, but there it is. Is anyone still reading? Anyone still interested in what happens to Quetzalcoatl Hope dos Santos-Creed? Leave me a comment and let me know if I should continue.