I'm not entirely sure what's going on with this fic, but I'm really sick and my head's not all together. Another game of beat up the characters and play with head canons while probably breaking canon at the same time, I suppose. I'm not sure how in-character I managed to be on this. Do you guys think Zero is German, because I always assumed he was. He's probably not though. Someday I'll finish my other fic...
But hey, thanks for reading if you do. I hope you don't hate it.
I'd probably coughed up enough dirt to bury someone with as I tried to clear my lungs. On top of that, a thick layer of dust covered me, and rocks pressed sharply into my back. I would have been happy to pick myself up and shake the dust from my uniform, but as I tried to do so, I realized my right arm had no intentions of letting me.
The appendage was completely stuck in the wall of rocks at my side. I couldn't even tug my elbow out, though I found attempting it to shoot waves of pain up through my shoulder. Even though it was probably broken, I was at least happy to know that the nerves were still attached. Losing my dominant arm would be a real pain.
It was impossible to see. My hand wasn't visible even right in front of my face. Darkness added to the claustrophobia surrounding me. I couldn't be sure of how wide my space was or how much oxygen I had, but everything felt so tight. The air was thick with kicked-up dirt. Hopefully Tochiro would find a way to dig me out before I suffocated. Suffocating to death would be a real pain too.
Thinking of Tochiro, I finally recalled that I hadn't gotten into this predicament alone. Tochiro and I had come down to this planet in order to get some mineral he wanted. Except, apparently it was illegal to mine for, a point my friend had so conveniently forgotten to mention. It wasn't that I minded illegal activities. The problem was more the man that was currently assigned to keep anyone from taking the mineral. Coincidence was trying to get me killed.
"Zero?" I sighed, doubting any answer. There was no chance that he'd managed to wind up in the same alcove as me. Hell, I was lucky to even be alive. I would have placed my bets against the same going for him.
"Mm-hm?"
Well, I was never all that good at gambling.
He sounded as though he was a meter or so away. Something muffled his voice, which sounded like something clenched between his teeth.
"Well…how are you?" I asked. I'd been close to killing him a few minutes before. It was a bit odd to talk to him like this.
He said something around whatever was in his mouth that sounded like "hang on." Suddenly a small light buzzed into existence. The old-fashioned Swiss army knife clenched between his teeth was now visible along with the deep bruise highlighting his temple. The light was small, barely pocket-sized, but in the pitch black it glowed brilliant neon white. It cast heavy, macabre shadows on both of us, highlighting the pockets beneath Zero's eyes. On the side of the small contraption, a small red dot blinked.
"A signal?" I questioned.
He pulled the tool from his mouth and placed the light between us. "Hopefully it'll make it through these rocks," he sighed in confirmation.
He was lying on his back, dirt clinging to his hair and dulling the yellow of his uniform. I might have asked him to get up and help me free my arm, but the request would have been pointless. His left leg was also buried in rubble, covered to his mid-thigh. His right leg was pulled in safely, though it stuck out at an odd angle in order to accommodate the close quarters. "How's your arm?" he asked, examining what could be seen of it.
"Likely broken. Hurts like hell, but I don't think it's bleeding at all. I can still feel my saber." The handle was in my grasp, though I couldn't have let go of it if I'd wanted to. There was no room to move my hand. "How about your leg?"
"Not too sure," he frowned. "Can't feel it. The circulation may be cut off."
"Think you'll need an amputation?"
"Ah, I have a bit more faith in my ship's doctor than that," he smiled lightly. "Besides, I don't know much about medicine, but I suppose I should actually take a look at it."
He rose up to his elbows with a slight wince, but as he tried to sit up further, his eyes wavered. He blinked hard, placing a hand to his head and settling back down. "Okay, no, that's not going to work," he said before muttering something under his breath that I couldn't quite make out, though it did surprise me.
"You're speaking German," I frowned curiously.
"Hm? Of course," he sighed, rubbing his forehead. "That was my first language. You're German too, aren't you?"
"Well, yes, but so few people even learn the language anymore." Even I had trouble with my native tongue at times. I'd never really used it after my father died. Universal language had a bad habit of stamping out culture.
"My father was quite traditional," Zero explained. "You know, Latin, classic literature, boarding school and all that."
"No wonder you're such a tight-ass," I snorted.
He threw me an unamused glare. "As my father would say, 'I'd rather be considered a snob that a dirty scoundrel.'"
"Was that directed at me?"
"Do you even need to ask?"
"I'm no scoundrel," I said firmly. "I have my morals."
He broke with a smile. "I know. And for the most part, they're fairly decent morals. For the most part. I was actually a fan of your father's ideals as a child, though I think that was mostly because I hated the strictness in my life so much."
"I can't think of you as a rebel of any sort," I snickered.
He stared at the ceiling, a melancholic smile reaching his tired eyes. "Oh, I wasn't, but I did keep one of your flags hidden under my bed. Being a pirate sounded…fun. I didn't get much of that as I kid. I just wanted to go into space. I didn't want to be a soldier, but that's practically what I was bred to do."
I eyed him curiously. "That's not really something you're supposed to admit to me, but if you want to join me-"
"No, Harlock. I have a concussion."
"And?"
"I ramble when I have concussions," he sighed. "It keeps me awake."
"It's worrying that you've had enough concussions to know something like that," I said, shaking my head.
His hand wandered into his jacket, pawing for something. "Lately, all my injuries have been somehow your fault. Being connected to you in any way is dangerous."
"I'll give you that one," I grinned, "but you know, if you can't handle the heat-"
"Shut up," he muttered, pulling a flask out from the inside of his jacket. He took a sip from it, swishing it around before spitting it out to the side. "I hate dirt," he grumbled, throwing the flask to me.
"I'm starting to hate it too," I agreed. The flask smelled of harsh bourbon. I tentatively kicked back a mouthful. "Damn," I muttered after I'd cleared my mouth of grit. "That's some strong stuff."
"If anyone asks, I don't have it," he smirked. "My first officer is trying to get me to outlaw alcohol on the ship. Apparently being drunk 'causes the men to be unproductive.'"
"Is she the devil?" I frowned.
"I plead the fifth," he said, biting back a grin.
A moment of silence passed before I spoke up again. "Do you think we're running on limited oxygen?"
"No, I think we're alright. We would have noticed by now if we weren't. I think we're actually pretty close to the outside. At least, I'd guess that from our fall."
As it happened, the reason mining for the mineral was so frowned upon was due to it hollowing the planet. The craftier miners made it difficult to tell where they'd eaten away below the surface, so our battle, while seemingly on stable ground, had actually been above a cavern. The earth beneath our feet had cracked suddenly, and we'd both fallen in before we could even begin to react.
But as Zero said, we may have been close to the surface. It was difficult to gauge how long the fall had been, but I had feeling that despite the ground swallowing us up, the outside wasn't more than nine meters up. After all, we wouldn't have survived if it had been many more.
"Well, they sure are taking their time getting us out," I huffed, ready to see daylight again. My back was starting to cramp.
"If they don't do it right, the roof will collapse on top of us. That could be a few centimeters of rocks or it could be a few meters. I'd rather spend another hour down here than have my chest crushed in."
Alright, he had a point. I just wasn't sure if we'd last another hour. He was starting to doze off. His voice was becoming more drugged and whispered. "Hey," I snapped. "Start rambling again. I'm not liable for you if you fall asleep."
"What do you want me to say?"
"I don't care. Talk about your awful childhood some more."
"Hm…there's not much else to tell. I got my alcoholic tendencies from my father, and my mother…my mother…" He sighed, rubbing furiously at his head. "I'm having trouble remembering."
"If you die from this, I'll never forgive you."
"Oh, shut it. Give me back my bourbon." He reached out a hand for it.
"Nah, I think it'll make you more tired," I smirked. "I'll just hold onto it for you."
"Give it here," he snapped. "Now."
I held it up mockingly, amused by his infuriated glare. He was acting like a little kid that had just gotten his toy stolen. Then again, I was acting like the one that had just stolen it.
"I would kill you if I had my saber," he hissed.
"I think we should hold off on the duel this round," I shrugged with a smile.
"Fair enough. I'll kill you next time we see each other." He still pawed angrily at the air for his flask, though I really did think giving it to him would just put him to sleep faster.
"I believe I'll be the one doing to killing, but before then, I think we should have a drink."
"Why don't we have one right now?" he huffed.
"None for you." I took a swig from the flask, nearly cringing against the sheer alcohol. "Where did you get this?" I whistled.
"Nowhere you need to know about," he sighed, giving in with a smile.
The small red light suddenly began to flash with a few loud pings. "They found us," he said.
"Just now? I think they wanted us dead."
"Just you probably."
In retaliation, the rocks above his head came loose, smacking his forehead. He barked a few curses in German, clutching his skull.
"Sorry!" Tochiro yelled as light streamed in. "You okay?"
"Been better," Zero hissed through gritted teeth. "Get us out and I'll be great."
"Captain!" the familiar, irritable voice of his fist officer barked. "What were you doing? You ran off while you were supposed to be on watch duty! If any of the men had done that, you would have given them manual labor as punishment!"
Seeing his distressed upward gaze, I quietly hid his flask for him in my boot. No need to get him in any more trouble.
It took a good while for them to dig us out. The machine man doctor bound my arm nicely after Zero had been stuck in his own cast that he was none too happy about. His head was also wrapped, making him look sufficiently amusing.
His first officer continued to scold him all the while, and a younger crewman of Zero's that I didn't recognize asked why they didn't just arrest Tochiro and me. I thought Zero was going to punch him.
While everyone's attentions were on him, I pulled out the flask, wondering how to get it back to him. In the dark, I hadn't seen how beautifully engraved it was, almost like fine silverware. The spindling etchings curled around a small phrase in the middle. "To my dear husband"
Zero was…married? I glanced up, recalling how he'd said his first officer loathed drinking. There was no way she would have given him this, and I was fairly certain they weren't married to begin with.
I finally managed to give the flask back to him by slipping it in his jacket pocket as I passed by. "Get well soon," I chided. "Don't get yourself killed until we meet again."
"Same to you," he smirked, lightly punching my good arm as I hit his.
I didn't feel the need to ask him about his wife. After all, I didn't need to keep him talking anymore. We were out of the dark now. The past was best left there.
My head hurts so much that I can barely type straight. Obviously I'm in peak form for writing and posting things. Yes. Does this fic even have a point?
