Friendships and Alliances, a MARVEL Fanfic

Victor Creed/Fluff

"Amara? Mara!" Peter had followed Amara's heat-trail to an old grey building, where it disappeared and he assumed she stopped here. "Please, Mara! I'm an insensitive bastard and I know I'm not who you wanted but please just calm do-!!" Something very heavy-and very painful-landed on him, making his head smash into the ground as he fell. Black spots danced in front of his eyes. "Who are you!" Someone yelled at him, punching him, but with something sharp. He felt clawlike things rake across his left cheek. "I'm a fri-a friend of-of A-Ama-" he got punched again, this time thankfully with no spiked blades, or claws. "Please-" Peter choked on blood leaking freely from his spit lip, and it ran down the side of his face to the ground.

"Victor! Let him go! He's a friend! You hear? A friend!"

Peter heard Mara's voice, but he couldn't lift his head to see her as pressure was lifted from his midsection. "Mara..." He whispered through his swollen lips. He felt sick; he thought he might have a concussion. "I'm sorry Peter!" Mara ran over and knelt beside him-he could see her blue eyes staring anxiously over him, and beside her an animalistic boy with thick, wild blonde-brown hair, all-black eyes, and a mouth full of sharp teeth. He brushed his hair back with fingers that ended in pointed nails, and Peter realized that they must have sliced through his face. As if that thought had reawakened the nerve endings in his cheek, he gave a cry of pain and felt agony slice through his whole head. He was all too aware of blood dripping to the ground, his blood, and when Mara helped him off the ground he felt it running down his neck. The world spun around him and he became very nauseous. "Mara..." He clung to her as the feeling passed, and then screamed embarrassingly aloud in terror as he felt himself being lifted up off the ground. "Y-You!" He stammered, gazing up at the crude yet handsome face of his attacker. "Sorry. Didn't know you were a friend." The boy-Victor-grunted.

Peter whimpered as Victor dumped him onto a soft bed and stalked out of the room with surprisingly soft bootsteps. He nearly had to duck to make it past the short doorway. "Peter?" A few agonized minutes later Mara walked into the room with a washcloth and some antiseptic. By then Peter was drifting in and out of pained consciousness, but he fought to stay awake as Mara lifted him into a sitting position. "A-Aren't you mad at me?" He asked weakly, mind trying to focus on something other than the dizziness and pain in his head, running down to his neck now. "I'm just sorry for you." She shrugged. "You don't see your power as a gift. That's all I meant." She finished quickly, raising her hands defensively as Peter's eyes glared. "It's not! Why don't you get that I'm a freak! No one will ever accept me!" He sat still as Mara cleaned his face and neck with the washcloth, and then bent his head again. "Peter..." Mara scoffed, not unkindly. "There are always people who will shut you out. But..." Peter's eyes became filmy with tears. "There will always be people to accept you for what you are." She gestured to the door. "Victor is more of a freak than you are. You step outside, people say, 'nice hair.' He steps outside, 6 foot 7 and with black eyes and claws and fangs...people scream monster. And you know what? I accept him for that." She paused. "And me?" Peter inquired. She leaned forwards. "I've always accepted every part of you...accepted and loved." She blushed her fiery red. "Really?" Peter asked. He became excited. "Do you-ahhh..." He whimpered as his cheek bolted agony. "Let's clean that." She said gently, taking a cotton ball and a bottle of antiseptic up in her hands. "This might sting..." It did more than sting; Peter screamed as she pressed the wad of soaked cotton to the wound. "It burns!" He cried. "I know. I'm sorry...it'll stop, I promise..." His hand outstretched, looked for anything to grasp for comfort, and she took his hand and squeezed it.

He didn't make another sound until she'd finished bandaging his face.

Letting out his breath in a whoosh of air, he exhaled and inhaled, trying to make the pain go away. "Peter, how do you feel now?" Mara asked almost immediately. She stared into his brown eyes with her blue ones. "My head's a little fuzzy, but I'm sure it's nothing." He answered, standing and trying to play it off. He found his legs wouldn't support him-almost immediately he fell to the ground. "Easy there, Peter." Mara helped him back onto the bed. "I don't think you have a concussion, but you came damn near close to it." "Victor didn't exactly play nice with me." "Sorry." Victor grunted from the door. Peter managed a weak but genuine smile. "It's okay, Victor. I forgive you." Such a look of happiness crossed the mutant's face that Peter had to grin wider as well. "You made his day." Mara observed, smiling as well. "I think he likes me." Peter answered sarcastically. "Don't play it off like that. I can tell, he does." Peter's eyes widened. "He attacked me." Mara shrugged. "He was protecting me. He didn't mean anything by it. He just takes his own time to warm up to you." "It didn't take that long for him to like me." "Exactly." Mara stood up, surveying Peter's still form, and a look of concern crossed her face as a violent tremor shook Peter's body. "Sorry...it's just...I'm suddenly cold..." He muttered, embarrassed. His eyes were half-closed. "You're in shock." Mara realized. She sat on the bed next to him, and gently eased her legs up and her body down until she was lying next to him, facing him. "Mara...what are you doing?" He said, half-apprehensious, half-pleased. Then: "Did you mean what you said, about...love?" Mara paused, and then they hesitantly leaned forwards and their lips met.

It was perfect.