Chapter Text
Logan, Remy, and Victor were on a patrol together. Since the blonde started banging Beastie, he's become a faux X-Man. Still not a hero by any means, just slashing bad people instead of innocent ones, but still needs to be kept on a tight leash so he doesn't go too far. To his credit, he hasn't killed anyone in damn near a month. Scott seemed to decide that was good enough to let him come on patrols.
The night was quiet until it wasn't; some annoying asshole preaching insanity with a baby bonnet on was running down the street. The heroes and Sabretooth were going to ignore it; cops can deal with run-of-the-mill crazies. But suddenly, he started shooting light from his fingers. Street lights and windows shattered, car alarms blared. Then the heroes intervened.
Logan and Remy avoided the flashes of light shooting out as the man spins aorund screaming, "Doesn't it take you back!?"
Victor, cocky bastard, just ran straight at the man and got a flash right to his chest and just completely disappeared. Remy and Logan got the guy taken down before they ran over to see a pile of furlined spandex. They thought Victor had just disintegrated, but there was something small moving inside the fabric.
Remy and Logan looked at each other and cautiously investigated. Gambit took his pole and lifted the neck hole of the suit, two big glowing eyes within. Suddenly, a little blonde boy poked his head out and looked around, hands over his ears as car alarms rang out and police sirens closed in.
"Is dat..." Gambit trailed off as the boy looked at them.
"Holy shit," Wolverine stepped closer, and the kid-Victor jerked back and began to cry.
"Je suis où? Qui es-tu?"<Where am I? Who are you?>He screamed, cowering away from the men. Whining as the sirens got closer.
Wolverine was not in the mood to deal with cops, so he just wrapped the kid up in the suit and tossed him over his shoulder. The boy screamed and cried, thrashing, hurting himself more than he was hurting Logan. Even with the tiny claws digging into his back
"DAMN IT, VICTOR! STAY STILL!" Logan snapped, throwing the kid in the back seat of his car.
The kid froze at his name. Looking up at Logan like he was about to eat him.
Logan let Gambit take over. The Cajan tried to explain that they were friends, but Victor kept shaking his head and crying.
The drive back was a long one, but Gambit got the kid to quit crying. Now he was just curled up, shaking and flinching every time Logan hit a bump.
"Tu know anyt'ing 'bout teeny Sabes?" Remy asked, glancing back at the kid from the passenger seat.
"No." Logan huffed. "Far as 'm conserined the bastard jus' crawled outta hell one day."
"Petite homme don't look like no demon to moi." Gambit says as Victor sniffles.
Wolverine refused to look back; it doesn't matter how pitiful the kid looks. He's still Victor Creed.
The last thing Victor remembered clearly was his father throwing scrap bones down into the cellar. He does that sometimes. It's the only way for the boy to know time passed. He closed his eyes, chained against the wall on the cold ground. Opening them to noise. So much noise, wailing, louder and more shill then his mother's nightly cries. The binds on his wrists were gone, but there was something surrounding him, some smelly blanket.
Suddenly, a light opened, and Victor crawled to it carefully. The noise was louder as he looked around. There were men in funny outfits looking down at him with wide eyes. He jerked back. Who were they? Where is he? What's going on? His head was throbbing with all the noise; it was bright. Suddenly, the man in the yellow suit with a mask grabbed him. Victor screamed; his claws coming out and digging into the man's back, but he doesn't even react. The skin heals no matter how many times Victor slashes it.
He winces as the man throws him and yells at him in English; all he understands is his name. How does the man in yellow know his name? Does he know Papa? Victor looked around, tears blurring his vision. It seemed like a...a carriage? with glass? It started to shake and bump, jiggling him around until he anchored himself to the seat with his claws.
"Hey dere Sabes, you alright? Come on, no need to be scared, it's your pal Remy." The other man started speaking in really weird-sounding French, like he was drunk or stupid.
Victor noticed his eyes, devil eyes. Red and black.
"Where are you taking me?" Victor asked softly as the carriage jerked again.
"Back home." The devil-eyed man said.
"I don't want to go home." He cried softly, curling up.
"Hey, hey, it's okay."
The stranger...Remy kept talking and asking him dumb questions. He doesn't know who they are. Why would he? What is a sabretooth?
After a little while, he gave up on talking to Victor. He and the man in yellow were exchanging in English. What were they gonna do to him? After thinking for a little while, he realized. They must be the demons Papa said would come for him. Take him back where he belonged.
Hell.
Wolverine and Gambit parked the car out front. The kid was still curled up in the suit, slashed up Logan's backseat pretty damn good. Remy gave the boy his jacket to wear just to walk inside. The leather swallowed him, but much less than the spandex did. Finally, Victor crawled out of the back seat.
Gambit saw he had this wide-eyed stare at the mansion, a look he'd seen many times on students. But there was a lot more fear. He didn't say anything. Just stood there, shaking a bit in the autumn weather.
Logan finally looked at Victor fully. It made him feel strange. He was used to straining his neck to look at the massive man. But this boy? He was thin, sickly, almost. Eyes sunk in, lips crusty, skin pale, hair filthy as the rest of him. The little thing looked like a stiff breeze would snap him in two. Considering the slashes on the back of the suit, the kid is tougher than he looks.
"Go get 'im to Beast." Logan huffed.
"An' where are tu goin'?" Gambit scoffed.
Logan ignored Remy and headed down in the opposite direction to Hank's lab. Gambit rolled his eyes. Logan dumping this on him wasn't surprising; Logan wasn't great at hiding his distaste for Victor. Gambit won't lie and say he doesn't feel it at times, but Victor really isn't so bad. Not as much anyway. But this kid ain't Sabretooth at all. Remy crouched down to the little guy's level and offered a hand.
Victor didn't think hell was going to be so pretty. There was a huge building under the moonlight. As he followed the strangers inside, they spoke once more, and the man and the yellow walked away. As he held the red-eyed man's hand, he led him through long halls; the carpets were soft, and it was quiet, except for the heartbeats all around. Everything smelled really nice, too.
"Hell is nicer than Papa said," Victor whispered, more to himself than Remy.
The man chuckled, like the blonde had said something silly. "Hell? Kid dis ain't hell, dis is a sanctuary."
Victor looked up at him suspiciously. Monsters don't get to be in nice places like this. But he stayed quiet, letting his hand be carefully guided down the dark hall.
Gambit noticed Victor stopped talking; he didn't push him. He just needed to get the boy to Beast so he could fix whatever the hell happened. Remy walked past the kitchen and heard Hank singing some opera softly, likely making his 1 am coffee for an all-nighter; little does the blue mutant know how much he's gonna need it.
The hero walked into the kitchen, and Hank's back was turned.
"Beastie..." Gambit didn't know how to start.
The scientist heard the tone and turned his head, "What's the matter, Rem-" His eyes fell on the tiny figure standing beside him.
Hank swiftly jumped over the island and reached for Victor, only for the boy to jerk back. Beast froze. He pulled his hands back, staggering a bit as the weight of what he was seeing just hit him full force.
"What happened?" The blue mutant asked Remy. Eyes staying on the boy.
"A power, some fou was shootin' light and got Sabes. T'inks 'e's small inside too." Gambit explained.
The scientist had tears welling in his eyes at the sight. He'd known Victor's young life wasn't very kind to him, but to see it right in front of him? It broke his heart to see his dearest one so small and scared. He kneels down slowly and carefully before the boy.
"Victor?"
"Connaissez-vous mon nom?"<how do you know my name?> Victor looks at Remy, then back to Beast.
Victor doesn't know what this weird-looking blue thing is. It was fast, startled him. But didn't grab him. It spoke English with the red-eyed man, just looking at him. It kinda looked like a bear, a blue bear with glasses. Mama used to read him a story about a bear with glasses, but he can't remember the name. Suddenly, the blue bear thing crouches down and asks his name.
"How do you know my name?" Victor asks softly.
"Because I care about you very much." He tilts his head. "You have no idea who I am, do you?" The strange thing speaks French much better than Remy.
Victor shakes his head. He'd remember if he met a blue bear.
"Well, my name is Hank, but you can call me Beast if you would like."
Victor shook his head. "Beasts are scary. You look nice."
Hank smiled, a soft chuckle left his lips, but he still had this sad scent to him. "Why, thank you, dear. Are you hungry? Thirsty?"
The boy hadn't thought about it. He'd gotten used to ignoring pains in his belly and his mouth feeling like he ate sand. He was nervous; it was a trick at first. But when he was sitting at a high seat against the rock table and given a glass of water and a piece of odd, soft bread with jelly on it, he devoured it. It was weirdly sweet, and the water was cold somehow, but he didn't care.
Hank and Remy watch the child devour what was given to him in seconds. Not surprising given how starved the boy looked. When he finished, he looked up at them, unsure. Beast and Gambit exchanged a glance.
"I can handle it from here, Remy," Hank said, patting the red eyed mans shoulder.
Remy said bye to Victor, who watched the Cajun leave with big eyes before his gaze fell back onto Beast.
Hank smiled, trying to show the boy it's okay. "Can you tell me how old you are?"
Victor stuck his tongue out a little as he thought about it. "Nine"
The blue mutant nodded. Nine...He seems much too small for his age.
"I see. What's the last thing you remember before Remy and Logan found you?"
"I was in the cellar." The boy did't elaborate.
Hnak had a vague idea of the 'cellar'. Mostly from holding the blonde through his nightmares. Beast has a million thoughts running through his head, but this poor child before him seems to be on the cusp of passing out.
He needed to fix this, but he couldn't just drag the boy kicking and screaming to his lab and run tests on him. Even a fully grown Victor didn't like being down there for too long.
"You look exhausted, my dear boy. Why don't I take you somewhere you can rest?"
Victor had a wide eyed but still weary gaze. Hank understood. From his perspective, he's traveled across space and time to the building full of strange strangers. But Hank helped him down from his seat and held his hand down the halls.
Mister blue gave him a soft shirt to wear instead of the heavy jacket Remy gave him. It smelled like Victor. It was weird. It was way too big to be his. His golden eyes looked around a bit. The room was huge, filled with odd things; it reminded him of the strange stuff on the shelves in Papa's study, which he wasn't allowed to touch.
"Is this your room?"
Hank nodded. "Yes, but you can sleep here tonight. Tomorrow..." he trailed off. "Let's not worry about that."
Mister Blue put him in the big bed, bigger than mama and papa's bed. It was cozy. Nothing at all like fires and torture papa said was waiting for him. His body felt extra heavy with the food in his belly.
"Will you be here tomorrow?" Victor asked, curling up into a little ball. He doesn't know if this is hell, but he knows he doesn't want to go back.
Mister Blue sat on the edge of the bed and smiled at him. Even with the sharp teeth, Victor wasn't scared; they were like his. He petted his head carefully. It felt nice, pushed him over to dreamland.
"I will never leave you, my darling. I promise." Was the last thing he heard before falling into a deep sleep.
Hank watched Victor drift off quickly, just pure exsation taking hold. Once he was sure the boy was out cold, he cut some hair and swabbed his mouth. Heading down to the lab. He spent hours taking every test possible. This boy is Victor, not that the scientist questioned that. But there's nothing different, nothing that would say the boy was in the wrong place or time. Nothing that showed he was 200 years old this morning, and now he's 9. Hank rubbed his face, trying to calm down and think.
Since the samples weren't doing him any good. The blue mutant spent the rest of the night and into the morning researching. The mutant Remy Logan and Victor fought had been arrested many times. He had a well of data to comb through.
Collin Savi.
Age: 46
Mutant power: Age rewind.
All noted victims of his power recovered, but there wasn't any pattern. No rhyme or reason as to why they changed back. Some woke up the next morning fully grown again. Others stayed children for weeks, the longest case being 2 months. The scientist refused to believe that it was just random.
He had to fix this. He will. The how is the only missing variable. There had to be something triggering the change back. It's not physical; if it were, Victor wouldn't have stayed affected for long with his healing. That leaves mental.
Hank dangles from the ceiling. His mind is going a million miles a second. All he can do right now is gain the boys' trust so he can do more tests. The poor thing is long overdue for basic love and care. A bath would do him wonders. But that's another issue.
Heading upstairs, the morning light makes everything suddenly feel real. With a heavy heart, the scientist gets started on breakfast. Something simple. Oatmeal with a small splash of real maple syrup and a few raspberries. It may not be much, but it's the first step. As the blue mutant carefully opened the door to his room, he found it empty. Scrambling around, he looked out the window to see the boy in the lawn chasing after pigdins.
"Oh dear," Hank thought to himself. This was going to be an odd day.