DISCLAIMER: None of these characters belong to me. They are from the Marvel universe. The text and plot were written by me for audience pleasure.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you all again for the wonderful reviews! I've sort of speeded things along here. I know Logan did a lot more mingling before joining the X-Men and Erik wasn't around for a while, but I figured it would strengthen the plot for later. I also go into a bit of their past—which will be shown in italics. Next chapter will be a lot on their past, as well in order to build their relationship together. I apologize in advance for the horrible cliffhangers; I got to keep my readers interested somehow! ;D

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A breath of exhaust slowly drifted through the cold vacancy of the cement building. Black night enveloped the dilapidated structure, the moon casting an eerie shadow into the midst of the darkness. Hard footsteps disrupted the whistle of the wind, accompanied by a labored breathing—angry breathes suppressed behind his sharp row of teeth as he strode deeper into the dark. His eyes adjusted perfectly, spotting every detail the night had tried to conceal. A small light was in the distance, a large gap where the building had been once crushed into—now a brick window that oversaw a vast field. On the opposing end of the field, small lights flickered, but were all too easy to spot for Victor Creed. A man stood in the light of the clearing, a long cape and helmet shielding the identity of the figure that seemed to grin in the moonlight. The masked man turned to Victor, the natural luminance reflecting off his face to show the varying contours of his cheekbones and chin. An old expression worn onto old features, dull blue eyes locking with Victor's as he slowly approached.

"You've found him?" Victor's voice slowly slipped from his curled lips, flashing a white fang. He looked out into the field and inhaled sharply, his body rippling with pleasure as he smelled the man he was most looking forward to see.

Erik smirked a little too kindly as he followed the other male's eyes. "I must emphasize my protest in this fit of vengeance." He sighed silently into the night, a puff of white smoke trailing his words. Victor's grin faded quickly, eyes shifting back onto Erik as they eventually moved out of the destroyed building and onto the grass. "We have located his whereabouts, but it is not yet the time to engage your reunion." Sabretooth grunted what was supposed to be a chuckle.

"I've waited four long months for this. That man doesn't deserve another moment of life." Victor rolled his head over his neck, cracking the air from his bones and joints, stretching out his fingers and claws.

"Victor, you must listen to me. If you go there now, you may discover something you do not have the strength to conquer." Erik insisted as they stopped along the grassy knoll. "You must have patience..."

"Time's up." Victor hugged his long coat around his shoulders, popping the collar over his exposed neck. Erik watched as he leapt wildly into the field, fiercely tearing through grass and earth as he built up such a momentum that he was hardly touching the ground at all. Racing towards the facility, adrenaline fueling his muscles to a very deadly potential.

His breathing was steady as he stalked the front gate. Nothing could cage him from his destination. The guards that stood at the foot of the entrance were of no threat at all. It took only seconds for Victor to jump into the air and snap one of their necks while stabbing his long claws into the other. The sound of blood spilling onto the terrain was the only thing heard as Victor bloodied his hands while proceeding into the laboratory. There was no stealth, only blunt violence whenever he came across a guard, ripping into them with his inhuman strength. Dead bodies littered the campus as he finally burst into the heart of a large building. Victor yelled loudly, his nostrils flared as the scent of his prey grew overwhelming. He walked briskly through a narrow corridor. There were doors, no, cells to his sides—hands grasping the window of bars as his passed. His vision was tunneled on one particular cell, marching in a solid movement towards it. In an uproar, Victor smashed his fist into the cell door, shoveling his crawls into the metal before severing the entire door from it's bolted hinges and throwing it across the hallway, allowing some of the captives to escape. The man inside of the cell had been frightened to the point of cowering against the farthest wall, crying out for help.

"V-Victor. Victor, please—give me a moment to explain." William shuddered against the wall as the mutant drew closer into the cell, his bulky shoulders nearly denying him easy entrance. Victor could only scoff as he stretched out his claws, licking his lips. "You don't understand!" Sabretooth immediately slammed his open palm onto Stryker's throat, thrashing him against the wall he was already pressed against.

"Shut the fuck up!" Victor yelled, drawing his opposite hand back in order to strike. "You killed my brother!" He yelled inches from his face, nearly pressing their noses together, flat palm collapsing so his fingers wrapped around his neck and his claws pierced his skin. "I'm going to have so much fun ripping out your black heart." Sweat barreled down his forehead as he readied his aim directly above William's heart. Bearing his fangs, he screamed as he unleashed his suppressed limb, soaring towards Stryker's chest. Just as Victor's claws reached the very fabric of his uniform, his scream was disrupted by a sharp intake of air. He gasped, blood bubbling up through his throat and bursting from his mouth as he coughed. Body frozen, claws centimeters from tearing into William's chest, his eyes looked down to see three metal stakes protruding from his midsection.

Stryker's eyes went extremely wide, his quivering pupils focusing on the sudden impalement that was timed only a second from his own death. Victor took in a slow, jagged breath, examining the metal. The three protrusions were suddenly extracted from his body, causing Victor to lurch forward as blood seeped from the open wounds. His torso twitched as he looked over his shoulder, craning his neck. He stumbled back a few steps as his eyes rested upon the figure of a ghost. His hand hovered over his injury, touching his own warm blood. As quickly as it happened, skin grew over the stab wounds and healed, the bleeding instantly stopping. His heart flew into his ears again, hammering into his head as it rapidly began to beat.

"Jimmy?"

An excessive bombing kept his ears ringing, explosions erupting from the earth in a firework of dry dirt and heat. Men were moving frantically left and right, some wounded and bleeding to their deaths in the middle of the battlefield. James watched as a young woman fled into the heart village, carrying a motionless child in her arms. He could hear her cries over anything else and he immediately acted upon it. He looked over his shoulder at his brother, who had taken an enemy flank by himself, digging his claws in them for blood and howling loudly. That was when Jim outstretched his own weapons and rushed into the battlefield. That triggered an instinct in Victor and he adverted his gaze from the gore, eyes surveying Jim as he ran into the village, getting hit by flying bullets that tore into his clothing but left no real injury or scar. A small frown accompanied Victor's narrowed gaze as he glowered into the dust at his sibling.

"Don't be a hero, Jimmy!" Victor cried out over the burning wreckage and the guns fired. His words were hardly audible as James focused on the woman's screams. Finally reaching her and her child, he was able to quickly lift them both up and carry them into the refuge of a stone home.

"Are you injured?" Jim panted, his eyes scanning over the woman and then the young girl that was carried in her arms. Her foreign, dark brown eyes stared at him, still screaming and thrashing to get away. She didn't understand that he was there to help and thought he was going to hurt her child. He went to the child and felt for a heartbeat along her wrist and neck, but there was no sign of a pulse and her skin was cold to the touch. It was hard to concentrate with the constant sound of bullets and grenades whipping through the air. Jim tried to revive the young girl, clad in a faded and torn black robe. Her face was flawless except for a small trickle of blood streaming from her lips. Dark, curly, short hair adorned her head, framing her angelic face. James finally gave up and looked at the woman once more. His eyebrows furrowed when he noticed a trail of blood coming from a small hole in her forehead. The woman's breath hitched, her dark eyes almost immediately losing life as Jim helplessly watched her fall limp onto the floor. Someone had shot her when Jim had his back turned. There was nothing he could do and that frustrated him to the brink of insanity.

"I told you to not to be a hero..." Victor's voice subtly broke Jim's concentration on the war. Jim was still knelt by the young girl, in hopes he was wrong when checking her pulse. The older male slowly entered the room and leaned against the crumbling foundation. The sounds of gunfire were dying and Victor dried his claws to prove their victory.

"I'm no hero," James slowly took in a breath to respond. "Heroes don't let innocent people die." Before Jim could stand, Victor had placed a warm hand firmly onto his shoulder.

"Innocent people don't expect you to save them. Remember who and what you are." Victor crouched, his hand still on James' shoulder. The younger male even grabbed onto his hand to make sure that he wouldn't leave. The woman didn't think he was a hero—she thought he was the villain taking away her daughter. Now Jim could only see the look in her eyes the moment she died.

"I won't take another moment of this." James shook his head and pushed Victor's hand from his shoulder in order to stand. "I'm not a dog of the military and neither are you." The taller male frowned, grabbing onto Jim's wrist before he was able to exit the hut.

"And where else are we going to go? The circus?" Victor reasoned with sarcasm, causing his younger brother to pivot from his place by the destroyed doorframe.

"I'd rather be a freak than a murderer." James snarled back, forcing himself out of his grip. Victor growled and shoved the other from the protection of the home and back out onto the battlefield.

"You still want to play hero?" He glared at Jim, shoving him into the village where clouds of dust billowed into the canyon of trees. "Look around you, Jimmy!" Victor yelled loudly, causing an echo. Jim found his breath before scanning his surroundings and suddenly felt ill. There was hardly a patch of untainted earth. The forest was on fire, burning rapidly, as bodies were scattered about the premises. "Without us, Jimmy, they'd all die." James turned to him and sighed,

"After the war, we're joining the circus.