Disclaimer: I do not own Better Days, Original Life, or any of their characters. They are all the intellectual property of Jay Naylor. I only hope to do his magnificent work proud while I work.

The Chronicles of Jason

From the Ashes: Chapter 1

Jason walked slowly along the sidewalk, a soft tune coming from his mouth as he walked home from school. Sunlight glared down onto him from the sky, casting shadows into sharp, unnatural relief. His short hair waved softly in the wind, every so often tickling the young Cat's ears. All around him were the sounds of children laughing, yelling, and playing.

None of it reached him though; none of it would ever reach him. The teacher had given a surprise math test today, and so the nine year old Kitten was not in exactly the best of moods. Dull red eyes, completely lifeless, stared vacantly at the hard ground, his footsteps echoing harshly. He knew he had failed the test. He knew because he always failed the test.

Rain began falling, first softly, but slowly increasing to the point where it became nearly a sheet. Jason slowly came to a stop and looked up, red eyes looking around in defeat. The sound of children and laughter had long since vanished. Around him in all directions was a bleak, empty wasteland, cast a dull grey by the unending rain. His tune died on his lips, as he clenched his eyes shut, terrified of it, of everything.

"No…no…" Jason's voice echoed endlessly into the empty wastes, weak and scared. The rain fell harder, drenching him, and only then did he notice that his body was bare of any and all clothing. He began to shake, the rain hiding tears that ran down his small, cut up, bruised face like rivers.

"No…please…" Jason curled up into a ball, hiding his face behind broken, mangled arms. The water rose up to half-way up his shins and stayed there, as his small body was wracked by terrible, agonizing shudders. His hands clenched at his hair, the pounding of the rain drowning out any sound as it fell onto his form, the slashes and cuts turning the water an ugly red.

"I don't…want to be…alone…"

Alexandria, Virginia

5:35 P.M.

Angela Faunt hated hospitals. This may seem like a very odd thing to say about her, considering the fact that she is, technically, a professionally-trained doctor. However, over the roughly 36 years of her life, she had seen far too many loved ones enter them but never leave alive to like them. Those sterile white walls, the smell of cheap flowers trying vainly to hide the reek of antiseptics and sickness; and worse of all, the ambivalent, distracted gazes of those around you; these all combine to make hospitals one of Angela's least favorite places to be.

So why was she at that hospital, waiting impatiently as the bored nurse behind the desk lazily looked up a patient's room number?

The same reason she had been visiting that hospital for the last two and a half months. The same reason she had permanently left the Company. The same reason Ana, Ryan, Fisk, and so many others had more or less ostracized her. The same reason her son was still alive.

"Jason Black you said?"

Angela refocused her attention to the young woman behind the desk and quickly nodded her head in irritation. She'd been visiting the same person every week for nearly a month, why did she have to go through this every time?

Regardless of the answer to that question, she watched as the receptionist glanced at her computer screen once more before snorting and glaring at her. "He was moved last night to the private ward; you know, where all the important people get to go. Actors, politicians, big-fuckin' businessmen." She let out a disgusted snort, her eyes briefly taking in Angela's sky-blue tank top and tan knee-length skirt. "Buncha rich bastards showing off their dumb cash. I bet they got all kinds of fancy shit in there."

"Yes, I see." Angela frowned at the human's little speech, doing her absolute best to restrain the annoyed sigh building up in her. Instead she leaned across the counter and glared at the receptionist. "But which room is he in?"

The receptionist rolled her large, round eyes and jerked her thumb at the elevator. "Room 403."

"Thank you." Angela turned and briskly walked away from the check-in desk, ignoring the barely-whispered "bitch" from the woman there. Instead she merely pressed the call button and waited, tightening her grip just the slightest bit on the bouquet of yellow carnations in her hands. As she waited for the elevator to arrive her mind wandered to the question of who had moved Jason to the private wards. She highly doubted that Jason himself had done it; ever since the…revelation of his heritage, he'd barely spoken more than two-word sentences.

And that was another thing that occupied Angela's thoughts as she stepped into the arrived elevator car and pressed the button for the correct floor. The mere thought that Jason, her Jason, could in any way be related to White, to Asura, sent shivers up her spine. But she'd been there when the Company's DNA tests had confirmed it. In fact, she had been the one to perform the tests. No matter how much it horrified her, the man she loved was the son of a monster.

Her hands unconsciously found their way to her slightly-rounded belly, stroking over the soft fur.

Her thoughts were dragged back to the present as the elevator chimed. The doors slid open, allowing Angela to step out onto a far less inhabited section of the hospital. Smooth tan marble floors and light peach walls created a warm, relaxing atmosphere. Angela's black high heels clacked on the marble as she walked through the halls, nodding to anyone she passed. They in turn nodded back tersely, confirming to the Bat that even here, doctors were doctors.

"…405…404…ah, 403, here we go."

Angela stood in front of a dark mahogany door, identical to all the others in the hall except for the brass numbers at eye level.

403.

Angela reached forward and grasped the handle lightly, but did not turn it. Her eyes narrowed softly, as some strange, unidentifiable feeling suddenly coursed its way through her. She did not know or understand why, but she felt like today would be different somehow from all the other previous visits.

With a heavy sigh, she turned the door handle and pushed in.

Red eyes stared at a wall-sized window lifelessly, unfocused and unblinking. Beyond the window the rain fell in pouring sheets, dousing the room in a watery-grey. No artificial lighting was on, casting much of the room in shadow. To the right of the window lay an empty bed, its pristine-white sheets a light blue in the watery light.

Near the middle of the room sat a wheelchair, in which sat a young Cat clad in nothing but teal cotton pants. Much of his fur was a dark black, like ebony freshly polished. Over his left eye and on the tips of his ears was white the shade of freshly-fallen snow. Scarlet eyes, like the color of flame, seemed to glow in the cool darkness of the room. Raven-black hair hung listlessly down his head and over his eyes, casting them into shadow. Many would have considered him a very handsome Cat.

Or at least, they would have three months ago. His formerly tall, toned body was thin, and weak from the time spent restrained to a hospital bed. The entirety of his right arm, from the shoulder down, was completely missing, leaving just a stub. His chest, stomach, and back were a patchwork of scars, some angry and violent like those left by bullets and shrapnel, others calm and precise like the work of blades. But it was his face that was the true travesty. When Fisk had knocked White's aim off, the blast that had been intended to take Jason's head off instead took his lower jaw off, reducing the bone to dust and the flesh to near-nothing. The searing heat from the blast travelled down his trachea, scorching the vulnerable flesh irreparably.

And so Akira made him a new one. Fixed to the lower part of Jason's face was an artificial jaw composed of steel and ceramic for the structure and teeth, with softer, more organic plastics both serving as the "lip" and covering it like skin. Several fused-together tubes were inserted into his chest and what remained of his neck, connecting between his lungs and mouth as an artificial windpipe. An artificial larynx aided what remained of his vocal folds, producing a deep, gravely, slightly mechanical voice. While the neck had been covered in artificial skin and fur, the jaw was left bare.

Jason made no sound as behind him the door to his room slowly creaked open, casting a pillar of light onto him. Soft footsteps echoed in the room, before a small, comforting hand rested on his left shoulder.

"Hey Hun, it's me, Angela." He remained sitting silently, prompting her to speak again. "I brought you some flowers…but it doesn't look like there's a vase in this new room." That did garner a reaction, as he slowly wheeled himself around to look at her dully.

"Yeah…you're right…"

Angela flinched slightly at the lifelessness, the utter brokenness that could be found in his voice. Leaving his side for a moment she moved over and set the flowers on the bed, before turning back to him. "Did you have yourself moved?"

Jason's eyes, which had until this point focused completely on her belly, slowly slid up to Angela's face. He stayed silent for a moment. "…no…I'd thought you had…" His eyes fell back down to her belly. "I suppose…it must have been Akira then…"

Angela shrugged, meekly wrapping her arms around her middle and looking away.

Silence reigned within the room, weighing down on its inhabitants like a horrible mantle. Jason stared off into space, the low thrumming that was his breathing the loudest sound in the room. His eyes stayed focused on his visitor, as dull and lifeless as they were before she had arrived.

"Why are you here?"

Jason watched as his guest flinched slightly at the sudden question; his eyes followed hers as they looked everywhere except at him. His face remained emotionless as she walked over and once more placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Because…because, I…"

A loud knocking sound came from the door, interrupting whatever Angela had been about to say. Both turned to look at the door as it opened, both privately glad for the interruption. Into the room walked a fairly tall, slim cat who both Angela and Jason noted to bear an odd resemblance to Lucy. She was dressed in a maroon tube top that more than accentuated her chest, tight denim shorts that ended just below the knee, black leather boots, and a brown leather jacket that looked about two sizes too small. Her snowy-white hair was kept long and spiky, combed just enough to stay out of her golden eyes. Around her neck was a red leather collar, with a bell affixed to the front.

She looked around the room slowly, before giggling and flicking the light switch on. "Ho do either of you expect to be able to see each other vithout the lightss on? Is this something Americans do for fun?"

Angela shared a discreet look with Jason, before stepping forward and between him and the stranger. "Excuse me, but who are you?" Behind her, Jason merely sat watching.

"Oh, right!" The stranger scratched the back of her head and blushed in what they assumed to be embarrassment. "Sorry, how rude of me to not introduce myself! My name is Kie'sel; it's a pleasure to meet you two!" The woman eagerly held her hand out to Angela, a blindingly-bright smile on her face. Hesitantly Angela took the offered hand and shook it, but kept her free hand positioned where she could easily grab her hidden dagger if she needed to.

"Your accent…German I think?"

Kie'sel's face split into a wide grin, as she vigorously shook Angela's hand up and down. "Ja, impressive! Most people aren't able to tell anymore!"

Angela smiled as well, breaking the handshake and going to stand beside Jason. Her hand moved to rest lightly on the back of his wheelchair, subtly tapping the back of his head in Morse code. Jason made no sign of noticing, instead letting his hand drift down to a discreet compartment in his chair where he'd hidden a knife.

"So…what is your…business here?"

If Kie'sel was put off any by Jason's hard voice, she did a very good job hiding it. Her hand moved to pull something out of her pocket, but stopped when she noticed the other two tense at this action. Raising an eyebrow in confusion regarding this behavior, she finished reaching into her pocket and pulled out a business card. "I am representing a doctor in Chermany, one who takes a great interest in your case."

Jason ignored the offered card, his eyes never leaving hers. "I don't know any doctors in Germany. And even if I did…I've been told I'll never walk again. It's…pointless."

Kie'sel frowned sadly and set the card down on a nearby table, her hands sliding into her pockets as she turned back to him. "Yah, zet's vhat I vas told by the doctors vhen I spoke to them. But my employer, Dr. Jenkinss, she has developed an experimental treatment dat she believes can-"

"I said no."

Kie'sel stopped mid-sentence, stuttering in confusion at Jason's flat-out refusal. Angela looked down at him, also confused about why he would refuse the chance to walk again. Jason continued looking at Kie'sel for a moment, before with difficulty turning his wheelchair and wheeling himself to look out the window.

"I…lost my ability to walk…because I was a selfish fool. I deserve…to be stuck in this chair…" Jason stopped speaking. With a soft sigh his eyes glazed back over, once more looking out into the pouring rain.

Beside him, Angela ran her hand through her hair glumly before nodding and patting him on the shoulder in understanding. Turning she motioned the seriously confused German to follow her and then left the room, waiting until Kie'sel was also out before shutting the door. She then turned and looked at the other woman distrustfully. But within that distrust was also a small bit of hope.

"Sorry for that. He's been very…down, lately."

"I see." The young Cat shifted from foot to foot for a moment, before shrugging and giving Angela a bright smile. "Det's good, I vas afraid I had offended him someho! But, vhat was dat he was going on abot? Vhy wold he deserve getting stuck in a vheelchair?"

Angela sighed softly, absently running her hand through her hair as she tried to think of a way to answer without really answering. "Well, it's complicated. Let's just say he did some things right before the accident that he is ashamed of."

Kie'sel nodded in what Angela assumed to be understanding. "I see."

"Yeah…" Angela looked back at the door to Jason's room nervously, before turning back and looking Kie'sel in the eye. "Your employer…she really thinks her research can help?"

The other woman nodded as soon as the question was asked. "Ja. I'm not a doctor, so I can't explain it to you wery vell. Not zat dat metters anymore, if Mr. Black iss unwilling to proceed…"

"Well…" Angela shifted her weight nervously. What she was considering would be considered highly questionable if anyone were to find out. But when Angela thought back and remembered the sadness, the brokenness in Jason, she realized that she at least had to consider it. Turning her attention back to Kie'sel she shrugged noncommittally. "I mean, I am Jason's legal physician. If I were sure that this treatment could help, I could recommend he do it as his doctor…"

For a moment, Kie'sel showed no sign of understanding what Angela was getting at. After a moment however, her face split into a wide grin, and her golden eyes flashed mischievously. "Oh, I am seeing vhat you are getting et!" Reaching into her pocket she retrieved an orange USB flash drive, eagerly holding it out to the Bat. "Here, my employer put ze basic detailss of her research on here, in case you needed some convincing."

Angela blinked and reached for the drive, honestly surprised that she was getting access to the information so easily. Just who was this Dr. Jenkins anyway?

Later that night, Angela sat at her home desk, idly chewing on some candied pineapple as she worked away on her laptop. Her eyes roamed over the screen as she carefully studied the research she had gotten earlier. While much of it was out of her area of expertise, enough of it was understandable for her to be extremely impressed by the work she was seeing. Clicking to another page of the material, her eyes continued to absorb and catalog the information even as her mind wandered elsewhere. Specifically, she tried to decide what she was actually going to do.

"This all just seems too good to be true. How do I know this isn't just some ploy on White's part to try to kill Jason again? But…oh, who am I kidding; White could probably storm through that door at any time and shoot me down without any trouble at all…damn it."

Angela stood up from her desk and, having thoroughly scared herself, walked over to a small locker set against the wall to her left, next to a doorway leading from the bedroom to the living room. Opening the metal locker she reached in and grabbed a Spectre M4 submachine gun and two 50-round magazines, quickly sliding one in before grabbing her KA-BAR fighting knife she kept from the Corps and shutting the locker.

Just as she turned from the locker and began back to the computer a sound came from the living room. Angela froze mid-step, her grip on the weapons in her hands tightening as she slowly turned towards the hallway to where the sound came from. Flipping the knife into a reverse-hand grip she stalked forward, hugging the wall tightly. Another sound came from the living room, followed by the soft sound of a child coughing.

Angela felt her blood run cold, forgetting all thoughts of stealth as she rushed forward. "Constantine!" She barreled into the living room, sweeping her gun around as she scanned it. Another sound, followed by more of her son's coughing, and she was running to her child's room faster than she thought she could, ignoring the sting of tears in her eyes as she went.

"Not…another…loss!"

She nearly ripped the door off its hinges as she threw it open and leveled her gun at the Cat standing over Constantine's bed. It took several seconds before her mind registered the startled face of her butler.

"...Dalfer?"

The grey-furred Cat nodded shakily. Angela felt her cheeks heat up as she realized what she was doing, quickly lowering the submachine gun and looking down. That's right, she thought to herself, Jason's lent butler, Dalfer. She'd been so invested in the data she was going over that she had forgotten he was even there.

"Ma'am?"

Angela looked back up to the elder man, nodding for him to continue. Nodding back he fixed her in place with warm grey eyes. "Ma'am, you seem to be on edge tonight. Did something happen when you visited Master Jason?"

Angela let a soft sigh escape through her lips, as she set down her gun and knife on a table to her right. Turning back she ran a hand through her hair as she thought the question over. Dalfer waited patiently, his hands folded in front of him. After several moments she shrugged and looked back up at him. "Well, yeah. A woman came by. From Germany. She said that the doctor she worked for had developed a method that could help Jason."

The grey Cat nodded understandingly, though his eyes still held a hint of confusion in them. "And you worry that this offer may in fact be some sort of trap? To lure you and Jason to a place none of your friends could help you?"

"…yes, that's exactly it."

Dalfer sighed heavily while moving forward, resting a hand on the Bat's shoulder and gently guiding her from Constantine's room back into the living room. "A long time ago, my company was sent in to provide some tactical support for the Burmese government as they quelled some rebel uprisings. While there we caused a great deal of trouble for the rebels; and so they decide to take us out of the picture."

Angela sat down on one of the chairs, keeping her gaze fixed on the man as he paced, recounting his story.

"After a while our numbers began to dwindle, more and more of us dying from injuries that should have been easy." Dalfer stopped pacing and turned to look at her, his face grave. "The rebels had managed to sneak in an assassin disguised as one of our doctors, and were using him to discretely weaken us from the inside out."

"So, what did you do?"

Dalfer's eyes grew dark when Angela asked this question, his frame sagging as the weight of the years seemed to double on his shoulders. "The government we were assisting took it out of our hands…by executing all of our doctors." Silence reigned in the room. He leaned in close to Angela's horrified face, his voice taking on a warning tone. "Sometimes, the worst result of misplaced trust is lack of trust."

A/N: An epic new arc in the Original Days storyline begins! New characters, new places, and new relationships await our heroes!