He wolfed down the hot dogs then the grape soda, wishing it was a beer instead. He needed the sugary drink and quick protein fix to give his healing factor something to work with and he could feel it pounch on the calories now available, putting it to good use.

Lighting up a cigarette, he took a deep draw on it. Oh, yeah, that felt good! Just what he needed to get the stink of his own death out of his nostrils. He was about three hours north of New York City and his prey. A handful of the X-men were rebuilding the original mansion and whoever or whatever had given Creed his life back didn't want that to happen. Creed didn't know why and didn't care. He had a debt to pay for being alive and he hated owing anyone. Besides, he was looking forward to getting blood on his claws.

Checking to make sure the bike was locked down, Creed stretched out under a tree to grab a little shut eye and let his healing ability do its thing. His unknown benefactor had attached his head to his body and jumpstarted his heart but the rest had been up to his mutant ability to repair the rest of the damage. Took him two weeks before he was able to leave the alley he'd crawled into to heal.

Arms folded under his head, Creed closed his eyes, a slight smile on his lips revealing the tip of a sharp fang. He couldn't wait to see the runt's face when he realized his old enemy just wouldn't stay dead...