Two Sides Of The Same Coin, by stormfreak Chapter Three: In The Air Tonight 10:22 p.m. The home of Mr. Victor Creed “You have no new message,” the answering machine chirped happily. “Blow me,” Victor told his answering machine, peeling off his clothes. He gritted his teeth and went to take a shower. No sooner had he lathered his massive body up with soap did the phone ring. Buck-naked, Victor streaked to the bedroom, his heart in his throat. “Hello? Hello?” “Good evening, Mr. Creed! I am excited to tell you about this wonderful offer! You have just won –“ “Fuck off!” Victor screamed. He hit the button and hurled his phone across the room so hard that it shattered. Grabbing his head, he took a deep breath and tried to remain calm. Where the fuck is Ororo? She should’ve called me by now. She knows to call me when she gets home! He stepped back into the shower, letting the hot water relax his body. It was very strange that Ororo wouldn’t call. She usually called the moment she got home, her sultry voice half-whispering through the wires in the hall phone (she was the only X-Man without a phone in her room; the attic setup wouldn’t allow her to have one) as she would tell him, “I was just letting you know that I made it home okay. You can go to bed now.” And he would always say something along the lines of “Oh, I didn’t even notice you were gone.” Never telling her that he was hardly able to breathe until she called and let him know she was safe. “Whatever, Blondie. Goodnight.” And she would hang up, leaving him burning and harder than he was before she called. Ororo not having a phone was beginning to irk Victor. He couldn’t just call her on the hall phone – that was the phone the little X-Nerds used. At one point, Victor offered to pay for cellular services, but Ororo waved her hand at the thought. “I would just lose it,” she laughed. “And anyway, I don’t want to have it, and have you calling me every twenty minutes. I enjoy my solitude as much as I enjoy my time with you.” It was true – had Ororo had a cell phone, Victor probably would’ve been punching the number in for the millionth time. He stepped out of the shower and toweled off, pausing to smirk at his chiseled, naked frame in the mirror. There were scratch mark all over his arms and back, and a small bite mark on his neck. Victor bit his lip as he thought of Ororo’s beautiful legs wrapped around his waist while he pinned her against the shower wall, his face buried in her breasts, which were already beginning to swell in the early stages of her pregnancy. Victor threw on a turtleneck and some faded jeans and ran a hand through his flaxen blonde hair. Ororo’s getting under my skin, he thought. He looked at his scratches. Shit. Literally. He smiled. And so what? She’s carrying my baby. My little man. Or little woman. Nah, I’m only capable of producing boys. He pulled on a jacket. This is driving me crazy. I need a drink. When I get back from the bar, that silver-haired temptress better have her liquid voice on my machine tellin’ me she’s okay. Funny, Victor Creed never thought of himself as a man who would worry about any woman. What was it about Ororo that he loved so? He knew he wanted her from the day he saw her and tried to control her, but he never thought his feels would get this deep. Then again, he never thought he would have Ororo – after all, he did try to kill her twice. Could he have really killed her? He knew now that he never would’ve. One look into her eyes and that would’ve been over. Something mystic about that woman that Victor couldn’t put his finger on. Finger…finger…finger…fuck it. I don’t need a drink, Victor thought as he jumped into his SUV. I need a jeweler. * 10:26 p.m. The Home of Mr. Victor Creed “Logan! Logan!” He was a man on a mission. Logan jumped out of the stolen car, keys still in the ignition. His claws extended, he slammed his fist into the door, smashing both the doorknob and the lock. Logan kicked the door open, slashing, ready to kill anyone in his path. Hopefully, Victor Creed would be in his way. “Logan! Logan, stop it! Dammit, Logan!” Cyclops jumped into the splintered doorway. “Logan, goddammit! You’re acting-“ Insane. Big surprise. For a moment, all Logan could do was tear at everything solid. He could smell Storm’s scent all over this house. In the living room. In the dining room. In the kitchen. In the bedroom.  It was like she was everywhere. Wait, wait, wait, wait. Logan stopped, confused. This ain’t makin’ sense. Jeannie found Storm in an alley…why can I smell her here? He paused, sniffing again as Scott finally stood behind him. Lust. Ororo’s lust. In was in the air, everywhere. The scent of her body, the scent of his body, mingling together in a way that made him queasy. Sandalwood. Citrus. Musk. Lust. Rain. Lust. Outdoors. Leather. Lust. Sandalwood and citrus and musk and lust and rain and lust and outdoors and leather and lust. Sandalwood, citrus, musk, lust, rain, lust, outdoors, leather, lust. Sandalwoodcitrismusklustrainlustoutdoorsleatherlust. “Victor never raped Ororo, Logan,” Scott’s voice came to him, as if out of a dream. “They’ve been together for six months or something like that.” Logan turned to face Scott slowly. “You…you knew?” “Just found out an hour ago. And Logan…” Scott hesitated. “Yeah?” “Ororo’s pregnant.” That was the pushing point. Logan grabbed Scott by his collar and jerked him close. “What!? What the FUCK did you say?” “Hey,” Scott said, flicking Logan’s hand away. “I’m just as stunned as you are.” Logan stood, breathing heavily, drowning in his own thought. Storm was pregnant. Pregnant. That meant that Creed had been inside her, pumping sperm inside like some fucking animal, like she was a cum bucket. Pushing his dick inside of her. Thrusting over and over and – “I’m gonna fuckin’ puke,” Logan muttered. He ran his hand over his mouth repeatedly. “Logan, you’re growling,” Scott remarked flatly. “Can it, One-Eye!” Logan screamed, jabbing his claws into an expensive portrait for fun. Scott folded his eyes, but then they rose. “You love her,” he said softly. “Drop it.” Scott began to laugh in a shocked manner. “You – oh, man! You love that girl! You’re jealous of Creed!” Secretly, Scott was a tiny bit envious of Sabretooth himself, but didn’t think this was the right time to bring it up. “I said drop it!” Logan whipped around, his eyes blazing. “What the fuck is this shit!?” Victor Creed bellowed from the doorway. “Oh, hell,” Scott muttered, preparing himself for battle. “Victor, wait!” “I’m gonna wait for two seconds before I rip you X-Cunts to shreds!” Sabretooth bellowed. “What the fuck give you pricks the right to tear up my home? I know it wasn’t you, Limp Dick,” he shot to Cyclops. “It had to be the little douche bag!” “You fuckin’ ‘Ro?” Logan stomped up to Creed and looked him dead in the eye, his chest heaving. “You fuckin’ Storm?” If Sabretooth had given a flippant response, Logan would’ve felt justified in killing him. Rather, Victor grabbed Logan first, wrestling him to the ground before delivering a blow to his jaw. “Don’t you ever talk about Ororo like she’s some fuckin’ whore! I’ll kill you, you little runt-faced shitbag!” “Hey!” Cyclops yelled, really unable to do anything to come between the feral men. “Victor, Ororo’s hurt bad and we need you to come with us.” Victor stopped and stood up, with Logan still trying to choke him around the neck, his legs not quite touching the floor. In his daze, he absent-mindedly grabbed Logan and threw him across the room. Logan hit the wall and stood up, ready to fight, but the look on Victor’s face made him stop. “’Ro’s hurt?” he asked slowly, balling his fists. “What-what happened? I mean, is she’s gonna be okay, is she-“ “She’s been attacked, Victor,” Scott said in his best emotionless-leader voice. “My girlfriend found her…” here he took a deep breath, “…in an alleyway. She…she was attacked by these so-called patriots-“ “Attacked,” Sabretooth said flatly. “That’s the ‘please-don’t-kick-my-ass’ way of saying my girl was raped.” Scott didn’t respond. “Where is she?” “Salem Center Hospital. She’s in intensive care, Creed, and I don’t think-” Victor glanced at Scott, took a quick look at Logan, and walked out of the house without saying another word. * Salem Center Intensive Care – room 411 11:22 p.m. “Ororo?” Ororo opened her eyes. Victor stood above her, his jet-black eyes wide with horror. Ororo lowered her eyes. She knew she looked a mess – her head was too tender to be washed, and her face was battered nearly beyond recognition. It made it unable for the spray paint to be washed from either her hair or her face. Jean had sponged off as much as she could, but it wasn’t much. “How…how did you get in here? It’s after hours.” Victor shrugged. “That’s not important. ’Ro, what in the fuck happened? Who did this to you?” “I…I do not know,” Ororo confessed, and winced. She had forgotten her jaw was wired. Victor stretched his hand out, and Ororo nearly wept from the pain when his feather-light fingers touched her jaw. “My God,” he moaned. “Oh, my God…somebody’s gonna fucking die, I swear ta-“ “No,” Ororo begged, mumbling through the wire in her mouth. “Stay with me, please. Please, don’t leave me, don’t ever leave me…” Victor stared into his girlfriend’s eyes, filled with water and pain. Slowly, he pulled a chair next to Ororo’s bed and sat down. Quietly, he laid his head on Ororo’s taut stomach, and then jerked his head upward. “Ro – our baby-“ “-is fine for now,” Ororo finished. “The doctors say that I didn’t miscarry, but it’ll be touch-and-go for the next couple of days. We just have to wait.” Victor didn’t respond. He lay back down, murmuring into her blankets. “I’m sorry, Ro, I’m sorry this is happening…” Victor looked into Ororo’s eyes. “It seems like since we’ve been together, I’ve caused you nothing but pain…” “This isn’t your fault-“ “Yeah, yeah it is. I shoulda done this ages ago. Shouldn’t have waited this long, just because you’re pregnant.” Not moving his head, Victor fished in his jacket pocket and produced a small, velvet box. “’Ro, let’s make this shit official. Fuck the X-Men, fuck the patriots, and fuck the world. You don’t need them. I’m gonna be the one taking care of you. Just be my woman forever, and I swear ta God, no one’s gonna hurt you like this again cuz I’ll kill them first.” Ororo gazed into Sabretooth’s eyes. “You’re so romantic, killing for little ol’ me,” she teased gently. “But are you sure?” “No, Windrider.” Victor flicked open the box, revealing a dazzling diamond ring. His jet black eyes bore into Ororo’s skull, no smile on his face. Deadly serious, her lover was. “The question is, are you sure? ‘Cause I spent too much money on this ring for you t’be goin’ in half-assed.” “You don’t know my ring size,” Ororo said, astonished. Actually, no one knew her ring size. She didn’t wear rings. Victor pulled the ring out the box and slipped it on her third finger with ease. “You gonna marry me now, or do I hafta fuck you right here to get you to scream ‘Yes?’” his eyes widened. “Wait. I didn’t mean it like that.” Ororo smiled, reaching for his face. It was bad enough Vic was proposing, the last thing she needed was him apologizing as well. Bringing it close to her, she whispered in his ear, as best as her wired jaw would allow, “Yes, Victor, I’ll marry you.” From the doorjamb, a dark figure slipped away, unnoticed. * Salem Center Intensive Care Unit – Waiting Room 11:31 p.m. Cyclops watched as Logan stormed away, his eyes blazing, and a sinking feeling formed in the pit of his stomach. Logan was in love with Ororo, that couldn’t be denied. But this wasn’t going to end the same way it ended with his crush on Jean. Victor Creed didn’t strike Scott as the kind of man who would allow anyone to come between him and Ororo. But Logan wasn’t the kind of man who ever took no for an answer. Maybe this will all work itself out, like it did with Jean and me, Scott thought. He glanced at Logan, who was standing in front of a vending machine, staring at candy. Without a warning, his fist shot out and smashed through the thick glass. Scott sighed. This was far from over. Since when has Logan ever wanted a woman that didn’t belong to someone else? TBC