Strawberry sweet insomnia.
Ok, Ok. I know I said I wouldn't be writing the sequel to she likes strawberries yet, but I lied. I know I have like three other fanfic that NEED updating, but this storyline has been running through my mind for days. Hell! I was planning this sequel before I'd even finished part 1! Lol
WARNING! Rated M for a reason. this is no longer such an innocent little tale. there will be under-age sex. so look away now if that subjact scares you. But just remember, this is a sabretooth fanfiction, you have to expect something shocking! lol
So, I'll stop rambling on and write, shall I?
A lot had changed both in, and around Sabretooth and Layla in nine years. The most notable being the loss of Creeds assistant, Birdy. She'd been killed 2 years after Layla had arrived, by Creed's own son. Layla had been devastated. She cried more for Birdy than she did for father.
Victor hadn't taken it well either. Without the glow, his mind had changed. Became savage. Brutal. He'd left after Birdy's killing, and massacred anyone he could lay his hands on. He continued to sink mentally; until he returned home one day and found Burns had had the locks changed. There had been a heated argument over the intercom, in which Burns told Victor he would not be allowed back into the house, or near Layla, until he'd managed to get help.
From this, Victor had turned to the X men for help, leading to the fateful encounter with Wolverine, in which Victor had received serious damage to his brain.
The X men had kept Victor at their mansion headquarters, longer than he liked, and once recovered, he fought his way out. Taking down Psylocke in the process. He'd been captured and placed under custardy of Valerie Cooper soon after. The bitch had fitted him with a restraining collar, leaving him unable to leave or kill at his own leisure. He was shuffled into the X factor team, as their new pet. Hell, he even had the collar for it! He'd been reunited with his old flame too. Mystique had been drafted into the team. But both Creed and Mystique were there for a purpose. And as much as Creed hated being away from Layla so long, he got the job done.
When he returned home almost two years later, Layla had just turned ten.
Victor was more than a little surprised when they'd met again. Layla had grown and was still growing, quick and strong.
Her Mutation began to show just after her 12th birthday. Victor had known she was a mutant all along. He'd smelt it on her the day she was born. It was part of the reason he wanted her in the first place.
A forming mutation was like Russian roulette. Until the child got over the main symptoms, live fever, or extremely heightened emotions, there was no real way for knowing what mutation they end up having.
Layla's mutation happened within days. It started when she collapsed during one of her home school lessons. Burns had immediately taken her to her room and called Creed, who was Ottawa on business. It hadn't taken him long to get home and to her side. She was too deep in fever to know, but Victor stayed by her bedside for the two days that she faded in and out of consciousness. Just the way Victor liked it. As she'd grown, her taunting and teasing had become playful, but with a sting to it. He had no doubt he'd have never heard the end of it if she'd have known.
She woke on the third day, over the main part of her change, but still lagging with cold like symptoms. These symptoms continued for nearly another week, until Layla, with Victor's help, healed herself, and thus revealed her mutation.
Burns had confined her to her room and her bed, still not happy with her health. This confinement almost drove her crazy, had it not been for Victor's curiosity.
"Are you checking on me again?" she whined as Victor's face appeared round the door for the twentieth time that morning. "Haven't you got people to kill?"
"Nah." He shrugged, entering her room and lazing himself down on the end of her bed. "What's wrong with me checkin' on ya?" he said. "I might be concerned fer yer welfare n'all." He added sarcastically.
Layla rolled her eyes and reached for another tissue. "Sure Vic. Sure."
They both knew why he was there. He was curious about her, yet to show, mutation. They sat for a short while, Victor seeming to drift off into his own little world.
"Maybe if we throw ya out tha window." He muttered absently.
Layla scowled, pulling and pillow from behind her back and slamming it onto his chest with as much power she could muster in her sickly state. "Victor Creed. You are not throwin' me out the window!" she snapped.
Victor scowled back. "Well how else we gonna find out ya mutation frail?"
"I dunno." She shrugged back in reply. "But you are not throwin' me out of any window in this house!"
Silence fell on them again, only being broken by Layla's occasional cough.
"I feel sick again." She suddenly announced. Victor looked up at her from the bottom of her bed, somewhat amused by the statement.
"And what the fuck' ya want me ta do 'bout it Lay?"
Layla shrugged. "I'd like a cuddle." She pouted to herself.
Victor's eyebrow rose in questioning. "Yer kiddin' right?"
Layla visibly bristled at him. "No. I'm not actually." She bit back. "I'd actually really appreciate some actual, physical, attention for once Victor!"
The feral mutant at the end of her bed simply stared back at her blankly. Sighing, Layla slumped back against her pillows, toying with the one in her lap that she'd used to hit Victor with.
"Do I really look like the cuddling type ta you Layla?" he chuckled as he closed his eyes. It wasn't long before the tangy smell of salt flooded his nose. Opening his eyes again, he looked up at Layla, who had pressed her face into one of the pillows and was crying silently, her shoulders shaking with each small sob.
Victor huffed and finally moved from his seat at the end of the bed, moving closer to Layla as he tried to comfort her in his poor manner.
"C'mon Lay." He rasped, rubbing her shoulders as gently as he could.
"I just want a hug." She sobbed into her pillow. Victor ran his fingers through his mane of blonde hair as he strained to agree with her request.
"Ya know I don't do huggin', Layla." He only just managed to keep the growl out of his voice.
"Please Victor. Please." She begged from her pillow. "Just this once. I'll never ask you again."
Victor sucked his teeth in aggravation before mouthing the word 'fuck' a few times. "Alright." He finally snapped, tugging on her night shirt.
The preteen sniffed as she turned back to Victor. She rubbed her eyes and tried to smile at his irate frown.
"Thank you." She purred, almost as sugary sweet as the strawberries she still loved to snack on.
"Whatev...!" He hadn't even finished when she flung herself at him, arms wide and welcoming as they snaked around his neck and pulled them together. Victor automatically tensed. That certainly wasn't his comfort zone, and the alien experience was a little shocking. Layla nuzzled into his neck, sighing contently as she relaxed. The rush of air over his bare neck sent a shiver down Creed's spine and his eyes shot over to the door, desperate for Burns to walk in and save him.
"You smell good." Layla smiled, pressing her face to the skin of his neck.
"I thought ya nose was blocked?" Victor replied as he began to pat her back awkwardly.
"That's not a real cuddle Victor."
"Patting my back." she scowled up at him. After another angry hiss of breath, Victor wrapped his arms round her small torso. "Better?" He huffed.
Layla nodded and snuggled in closer, pressing her cheek to his stubbly jaw. They sat for a moment, Victor finally relaxing with the contact. His hand absently began to rub her sides and he grinned as she wiggled without breaking skin contact. But something began to ache in the side of Victor's jaw. He ignored it at first, thinking it was something to do with how hard Layla had her face pressed against his. The ache quickly became worse, and Victor groaned with it. Layla sighed happily in return, one of her hands uncoiling from round his neck and stroking the other side of his jaw, her fingers curling in the groomed mutton chops.
The ache turned into a burn and Victor began to feel like the skin was beginning to melt from his face. Layla seemed unaware of this, as she continued to run her hand over the skin of his chest. That's when the burning spread. From his jaw, down his neck, finally reaching the spot of skin on his chest where Layla's hand had settled.
With a yelp, from both pain, and realisation, Victor shoved her away, almost pushing her off the bed. He jumped back off the bed, cradling his jaw and chest.
"W-whoa? Victor?" the tears rose again as Layla stabilised herself on the bed and reached out for Victor, who back away instinctively.
"YER A GODDAMN LEECH!" he yelled. Layla cringed back. She didn't understand. Why was he yelling like that? And why was he calling her a leech?
"What?" she whimpered.
"You!" he snapped, his voice lowering a fraction. "Yer a fuckin' leech! That's ya mutation! Ya steal other people's powers and life forces!" He looked almost horrified by it.
Layla trembled, still not understanding, until she paused. She'd stopped sniffing and her head didn't feel heavy anymore. The cough and sore throat seemed to have gone too.
"OH MY GOD!" She squeaked. "Vic! I stole your healing factor!"
After that day, Victor had become worried. He worried Layla would end up like the X woman, Rogue, unable to touch or feel other people without draining them of everything they had. Luckily, that had been the only time Layla lost control of her powers. It turned out, although her mutation was as strong as rogue's, Layla was able to switch it on and off, allowing her to have the life she'd been used too.
After three years with the mutation, she'd changed significantly. With every small scrap and scuff, bump or bruise, Layla had stolen Victor's healing factor, leaving her body unmarked, but also changed from taking some of Victor's physical and sometimes, personal traits.
The most noticeable was her hair. Every time Layla had used Victor's healing factor, her hair had become lighter in colour. Going from a dark brown, which she'd had from a small child, to a muddy blonde at age fifteen. Her eye's had become a stronger blue too, making them more intense and piercing, compared to her pale blue gaze as a child. Needless to say, those things had made her a little more popular with the boys in the expensive neighbourhood, even if Victor usually chased them off.
Something that didn't appeal to her, or the guys in her neighbourhood, were the miniature claws that had taken the place of her nails on her finger and toes. There were nowhere near as sharp as Victor's but still gave a nasty scratch. Her canine teeth had mutated too, sharpening, like her nails, into tiny fangs that cut her tongue and lips at first and gave her a lisp. She'd soon got over it though.
Those traits tended to fade after a while, only to return when she used Victor's mutation to stop her PMS pains or cure a headache. She didn't mind them though. She actually like being a little more like Victor. And she was sure he didn't mind too much either.