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Weapon X: Man or Animal	By : AmandaJean Category: X-Men: (All Movies) > General Views: 1911 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men, Nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter 23
Victor paced the storage room angrily; his claws forced dried blood to flake off as their size fluctuated on Victor’s will. Extend. Shorten. Extend. Shorten. Over and over again, it was all he could do to keep himself from lashing out. He already stepped in a half empty box, knocked over a dusty pale and mop that stunk. Nothing in here seemed to be used much; the dust was enough to cause him to sneeze more than once.
And he hated to sneeze!
It made him feel the way most so-called normal people must feel when they’re sneezing. Snarling slightly he kicked another box out of his way while he paced. Hearing something break and not really caring enough to stop and see if things were okay. The inside of the door and wall had deep gouges where Victor literally attacked the wall. The control panel was shut off, most likely because the metal freak decided it would be best if Victor couldn’t come back out and join the situation again.
A situation they had no right to get involved in! That hapless idiot was his responsibility! Not theirs and certainly not the bald headed freak’s responsibility. Could they not understand what Victor was trying to do? Obviously sneaking around the mindset failed big time and caused damage that no one really knew the extent of. So Victor tried a different approach, one that was hands on.
His gut clenched though at the image of his brother beaten down. It was for a good cause, so Victor really didn’t understand why he felt some guilt over the situation. He harmed the Weapon not his brother, there was a difference. Couldn’t everyone and everything understand that? Victor let out a loud inhuman snarl as his face twisted in the rage he felt as he lashed out at boxes and furniture that was set in here when they were no longer needed. Put aside. Abandoned. Left alone. Victor nearly sympathized.

'He couldn’t use his name, he wasn’t allowed. So people called him the name of an animal. Dog. And so that was what he answered to because that was what his papa wanted him to be called, so that’s what he will be addressed as.

Dog had to help with the gardening on good days.

Dog had to clean the cabin every day.

Dog always got left alone. He hated being alone, he was only five years old. And already a freak, a monster. Not a boy at all. And so he always got left alone in the cabin while his papa went out to work. When his papa came back, he either hurt Dog or ignored Dog. He felt like he wasn’t wanted, and not loved. He didn’t even understand fully what love even was.

The slamming of the cabin door made him flinch as he looked up, his papa returned and hanging off of him was one of the maids who worked in the big house. Giggling and laughing, Dog didn’t understand why though. What was so funny? She unfortunately shrieked she didn’t expect him to be standing there so quietly. Dog looked down as soon as he saw the snarled expression twisting his papa’s face.

Dog felt the back of his neck being grabbed and angry slurred words shot down at him. What did he do now?

“Don’ya make any noise ya hear me boy.” His papa ordered, and so Dog obeyed and nodded his agreement. The maid obviously surprised by the brutish behavior towards a boy said something; Dog heard the sound of skin slapping skin and a yelp causing Dog to wince. There were more words. Then talking in a weird way, purring maybe?

Dog feel asleep to the sounds of skin slapping skin, moans, grunts and yells.'
Victor shook his head savagely with angry sounds coming out of his throat, all of which sounded nothing like a human. He remembered that he spent the night and the whole day in the closet, too afraid to leave it and not able to shake the feeling of being forgotten and abandoned the entire time. Victor hated those emotions, hated those memories. They always reminded him how weak he was.
Tossing the chair away from him he ended up sitting next to the wall, tucked behind a pile of boxes both on top and underneath a table. He looked the broken chair with hollow amusement, if only there was more blood involved. Leaning his head back he thought about the situation he was in. How helpless it actually made him feel and Victor didn’t react well when he felt helpless. It left him dangerous to be around.
With a quiet ‘tch’ Victor proceeded to clean the blood off as good as he could without water. Normally he would lick it off, but this was his brother’s blood and Victor didn’t want to deal with that knowledge at the moment. And tasting the blood would only cement that knowledge so it would be forever unforgettable.
The doors slide open and Victor fought the urge to peek around the corner to see for himself, but he didn’t want to be viewed any differently than he was already. So he listened as the sounds of wheels rolled against the metallic ground.
“I really wish you wouldn’t cause so much destruction Victor.” The obvious newcomer to his storage room casually said, stopping a few feet away. Victor sneered as a response to that as he leaned forward bringing in his most distrusted bald headed soon to be punching bag into his line of sight.
“Ya should o’ told me you were comin’. I would’ve broken out some wine ‘n cheese.” Victor mocked coldly as he watched as the other man relaxed himself, prepared to go the long haul obviously.
“Sarcasm dully noted Victor. I’m here to talk to you about your brother. I…” Charles calmly said, though Victor wasn’t really in the mood to listen.
“Oh now yer talkin’ to me about him. Bravo for learning a new trick.” Victor taunted cruelly, clearly not ready to forgive just yet. Unluckily for everyone, Victor was someone who rarely forgives. He still hasn’t completely forgiven his brother yet, and it’s been close to around twenty years.
“I know I m…” Charles tried, but Victor cut him off with,

“Fucked up. Ya, we both know ya did. I aught to have you on the ground whimperin’ for mercy for it and yer damn lucky that I don’t. So you best be shutting up ‘bout your screw up, wheels ‘cause I’m through listening to you’re excuses. Now, what’re you here for.” And it was all true, every word Victor said.
“Very well, I have an idea. One that will fix our dilemma, and if it works you have your brother back and I fixed my mistakes. Everyone wins.” Charles suggested, giving an earnest expression Victor noted mildly disgusted. Was he really this confident and this desperate?
Victor licked his bottom lip in contemplation, leaning back slightly and eyeing the man who came in further to face Victor directly. It was a risk. It would be easy for Victor to lunge and take hold of the man before he had time to put up his defenses and react with his mind. Xavier was quick with his mind, but Victor was quicker with his physical reaction time. It wouldn’t end well for the bald headed cripple. But the situation had too much of an alluring bait attached.
“You sound confident you’ll succeed.” Victor said without much emotion, testing the water before any action is taken.
“I am confident.” Charles confirmed, staring Victor in the eyes. It was a minor standoff between two powerhouses for two different reasons. One was a powerhouse because of his mind while his body was frail. The other was a powerhouse because he embodied the physical prowess any male would covet and woman would go wet for if they didn’t know the truth and if Victor wanted it.
~ Man ~ Weapon ~ Animal ~
X-23 followed close behind as they removed Weapon X from the room filled with blood and cages. It caused her to shiver, and she didn’t understand why. It was too much like those faculties. Weapon X in bloodied cages and sometimes tied down like a dog. She was in restraining white rooms with no color and no sense of life. Dead. Just like how she was emotionally. Weapon X was treated worse than she was; he fought more than he obeyed. She obeyed because she knew nothing else.
She picked up the scent of Victor Creed alias Sabretooth near an unmarked door. There was also another scent, Professor Charles Xavier as well. Why was he in there with the one who beat on Weapon X? Where they striking a deal? Orders? She wanted orders? But she didn’t want orders? She was confused about that regard.
Frowning slightly she canceled out her own confusion and concern over the situation and followed them into the infirmary where they put Weapon X on the table, her claws sprung out. She didn’t know why, but she didn’t like how that looked. Where they going to harm Weapon X some more? Did he not suffer enough today?
“It’s okay, we only want to get him cleaned up and check him over to see if his injuries are healing normally.” A feminine voice said the mutant Jean Grey. Doctor, teacher. With the mutation of telepathy and telekinetic abilities. X-23 spent some time with her, but not enough to gain a general feel for whom she was. It was funny though, her natural pheromones when around Scott Summers suggested that she wanted to mate. Her attraction went up, voice softened and expression shifted. It was the same for Scott as well. They cared for each other, intimately. She barely understood, but she knew what she smelt.
X-23 nodded and watched as they cleaned the blood off of him, changed his pants and put casts on both hands keeping his hands bent enough to keep the claws from coming out. Ingenious, simple and effective. But no restraints were showing up. She looked over and noticed the blue handler was awake and sitting up in bed. He was already informed that he should stay relaxed and that the situation was under control. The one who removed Victor from the room was relaxing as well; movements indicated his shoulder was in pain.
Twenty minutes passed since she first came for assistance. And everything was finally finished. She was satisfied that much she understood. It was the same feeling as she got when she completed a mission or training exercise within parameters. But not the same sort of situation. She stared at the prone form of Weapon X who looked as though he was simply asleep, a state she never saw him in before. Not a calm one anyway.
She sensed a shift in the air, like something changed. Somehow. Something has changed. In her. In Weapon X. In the people around her, the connection between Professor Xavier and Scott. Everything.
With one last look at Weapon X, X-23 turned and exited the infirmary and walked to an elevator. She felt like her gut was clenched and she was on edge. She felt like she did for a brief second when she failed one mission, when she couldn’t kill a child. A brief second she felt as though she was free enough to choose whether or not to sink her claws into the boy.
She chose not to.
She failed. But didn’t. She couldn’t understand and couldn’t understand completely how it wasn’t a bad thing. To fail that mission.
X-23 frowned and exited the elevator the second the doors slide open. She walked to her room, grateful for the emptiness of the hallways and thankful that the number of students that would normally be here, wasn’t. Sitting at her small desk she pulled out a pen and paper. Next to the desk was a backpack that her mother got to her captures turned saviors, if that’s what they were. In the backpack was the letter that X-23 put the letter in herself, passports and money.
Setting the pen against the paper, she started to write. She didn’t know exactly what to write or even why, but she was driven to do it. Do something so trivial and deemed normal. Her words were precise and professional and her writing neat and emotionless that you could swear that it was more like a simple font in a word program.
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Weapon X: Man or Animal