how dreadful it was - that even a WORLD away, victor creed’s claws remained embedded in his wayward children’s lives. that even absent, his ever heavy presence was felt. that when elijah looked into the mirror, their father’s face stared back - and when victoria curled into a ball at night, it was his hands that she felt, that brought her SCREAMING to the surface dare she try to dream.
she couldn’t relax. being so near to someone who’s face haunted her, be she awake or be she asleep, had her full of a NERVOUS sort of energy that she wasn’t quite accustomed to. victoria, after all, wasn’t used to being on the wrong side of her father victor. he had often PUT her there, and she had often suffered for it, but never before had the line been so clearly drawn. she was no longer his. eventually, this would mean death. it was hard to shake the fear that had gripped her heart when she had looked into their eyes, so sure that this was it.
“it’s not,” if she sounded embittered, it was because she WAS - though it wasn’t directed at them so much as it was herself. she should know better. she froze, like some sort of fool - and she had let the feelings that victor brought forward in her cloud her judgement. they were NOT him. it was wrong to treat them as such. “you only look like him.” the smell…- it was enough to know they were a RELATION, but the thick, stale stench of victor creed that had clung to her for over two decades did not do the same, to them.
her hands shook. she clenched them into fists in a poor attempt to hide it, and her eyes, for the briefest of moments, widened as she took in their words. it was the sort of thing that she had wished their father would tell her, when she was just a GIRL. an oath of protection, that nothing would ever happen her - but he hadn’t. and it had. and it had, more often than not, been at his hands. and in spite of herself, she LAUGHED - a hollow, empty sound, that came from a place of deep disbelief. because no one could SAY that. no one could say it and mean it. “what can you do?” it wasn’t meant to be so sharp. it was a question of defeat more than it was defiance. “you must know what’ll happen, when he comes for me.” nothing and no one. neither would stop him. victor creed was many things, but a man of mercy he was not - and when the time came, victoria was keenly aware that there was no distant rock she could hide beneath that could spare her what was due. “why would you be so FOOLISH, to put yourself in this position? why would you make promises that you can never KEEP?”
“Regardless, I accept your apology,” they reply simply with a shrug, already focused on the next topic.
When she laughs, even as hollow as it is they can’t help letting out a chuckle of their own. They’re perfectly aware of how completely and utterly ridiculous they must sound to her and with a moment to think about it’s too hard not to laugh.
When they speak again though their tone is as serious as before, and they cut right to the chase. “Thirty years ago I ran from Victor Creed.” It was a simple statement. That much was certain, but it was also the greatest endorsement they had for themselves. The simple fact that they had ran from Victor and lived this long to tell the tale really was nothing short of a miracle.
“Thirty years is a very long time to plan what you will do when you see someone again,” they continued with equal parts confidence and fear. Knowing full well that Victor must have been planning just as much as they were about what they would do if the two of them ever met again. “I am nothing more than escaped piece of his property, and one day he will come to collect me. Just as he will come to collect you.”
They don’t realize it but they are shaking now. The inevitable result of far too many suppressed emotions and memories threatening to rise back to the surface all at once. “I will not lay down and die, not for him or for anyone. I don’t need you to believe me. In fact it is probably wise of you not to. But if Victor or anyone else tries to harm you whatever is my power to prevent it I will do.”
