Disclaimer: I don't own Dogs, or any of the characters used in this fic. They all belong to Shirow Miwa. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.
Tool
A/N: For a friend on LJ, who gave the prompt, "like a moth to a flame."
"You're a pretty thing." His hand fell to her shoulder, fingers grazing her feathers. "Big brother's lucky to have you around."
The girl shuddered, making a rather miserable face, sliding across the shoddy wood finish to escape his touch. Such pretty feathers they were, colored with a soft shade that fell somewhere between cream and a sun-touched yellow. But she wouldn't last long. Another broken toy, another subject to be teased. Just like him and Heine.
He couldn't feel the chill of the weapon, just the pressure as it pushed through the soft hair at the back of his head.
"Who the hell are you, intruder?"
Giovanni laughed, tilting his head back against the opening of the barrel. "I take it you must be the guardian he spoke of. Not that there's much to guard here aside from your little angel." It was a filthy place, holes in the ceiling, shattered windows, squeaking wooden doors, and water damage throughout. "Of course, in this great, wide Underground of ours, I suppose it would serve some purpose for the believers who remain."
The girl was gone when he looked forward again, the sound of her steps on the cobbled floor turning his head right around to face another.
"That's not my job," the man replied, the girl hiding behind him. "I come down here for a quick errand and get myself sucked into another favor. Damn, Kiri's gonna kill me..."
"Not the guardian, you say? Then perhaps you can tell me where big brother ran off to."
The man sighed, cocking the gun. "Hell if I know who your brother is, boy. But I think it's time for you to leave."
"Oh, Heine. You really should have learned by now," he laughed, walking the backs of the pews. "Hiding in a dump like this, like the dog you know you are. Ha. I wonder what Mother will say..."
"'Mother?'"
The blond smiled, pushing the bridge of his glasses up with a thumb. "That's right. Everybody has one, you know. Even if they don't remember. But, if you're like Heine, a coward, then maybe you don't want to remember."
He hadn't come for Heine or for their mother, but to see just what his dear brother had been up to, chasing his tail around a crumbling ancient sanctuary.
Heine really was just a tool. Used for a greater purpose, even if he didn't know it. Knocking out teeth, kicking ass, plugging poor bastards with bullets. It was a facade, and one that Heine was very good at. It was all to hide his fears, the insecurities that bound and ate away at him. Protecting the underdogs, like the girl, was just a lie.
He couldn't even protect himself.
She had come back to him, a sour look on her face as she balled her hands into fists, as if she could threaten him. How sad. Their brother had wanted so dearly to protect the one he loved, and, upon escape, he had replaced her with an angel.
His hand grazed her shoulder again, a smile upon his lips. "Tell big brother hello for me, won't you, Nill?"