Zero strode down the dark hallway, C.C. trailing behind him silently. The darkness of night penetrated the windows of the powerless temporary base, casting everything under shades of grey. Underneath the heavy mask and cloak he was tense, trembling, and torn. They had driven off the Britannian army from the ghetto, but at what cost?
He suddenly turned and stepped through an open doorway, his steps slowing as he stepped calmly around dusty debris that was scattered across the floor. A large computer set-up blocked off most of the room just inside. From the back it looked like a plain metal rectangle stretching from floor to ceiling and from one wall nearly to the next. Only a couple feet of space were left from anyone to walk around to the other side where he heard several of his knights talking in hushed voices. Zero glanced at C.C. She leaned her back against the set-up with her arms folded across her chest, and nodded for him to go on while she watched the doorway. He nodded back.
Pulling his cape tight around him to keep it from snagging on any jagged edges, he whisked around the set-up. He then stood still, assessing the sight before him firsthand. The hushed voices quickly died as the knights looked over at him one by one.
Tamaki was first to speak, for once being serious and helpful and gesturing the others out past their leader. Zero watched passively, his eyes following until Tamaki finally walked by dejectedly, clearly doing everything in his power not to engage Zero right then. Zero made a mental note to praise Tamaki later and indulge him a little in return for his cooperation. For now, though, he swivelled to face the interior of the room.
His gaze swept over an array of obsolete equipment lit by the dim glow of its own monitors, including those of the wall of technology separating this part of the room. In one corner a small generator was huddled in the shadows. In the other, surrounded by dead equipment with only a single monitor turned on was a scavenged bed. The occasionally flickering screen cast a dim blue glow on the face of the black knight lying under the thin white sheet.
"Kallen," Zero murmurred.
A line of dried blood ran from her hair down around her closed eyelid, gently curving over her cheek and running over her lips, finally disappearing at the point of her chin. She'd been out for two hours by now. He hadn't allowed anybody to examine her just yet, waiting to see if she would wake up on her own so she could tell them any problems, rather than risk aggravating any injuries moving her around if she had broken any bones. She lay exactly as they found her after ejecting from the Guren. He had a team working on repairs for the unit at that very moment, having sent a group led by Ohgi to retrieve it from the rubble.
Zero grimaced, cursing himself for letting the Britannians surprise him and damage his most valuable pilot. What was done was done, however, and he needed to work on pushing forward with as few delays as possible. It made perfect sense for him to want to check in on the Black Knights' only ace. After all, she was the catalyst that turned all his strategies into actual action.
His steps seemed to echo in the tiny room as he went to stand at the head of the bed. Zero leaned over her slightly, his gloved fingers curling around the metal bar masquerading as a pathetic headboard. An IV had been readied but not used, he saw with relief, although this close he could also see more small scrapes and raw skin that would probably be bruised in the next few hours. He suspected if he shifted aside the sheet he'd find many similar injuries all over her body. Still, she wouldn't die. That was all he required.
A soft sigh fell from his mouth, and as it faded his tension faded with it. His fingers released the bar and he shifted just a little so he was standing beside her, able to look at her face to face.
He took another moment to study her quietly. Even unconscious Kallen refused to relax. Her body was rigid and taut below the surface, and he could see her face drawn inwards as she fought off the ache of battle and the deeper ache of thinking she had failed him by having to retreat, even if it had been his own order that she fall back. An order he had issued just a little too late judging by the result lying in front of him.
Impulsively, he reached out, his silk fingers threading into her disheveled hair and slowly pushing through the strands, telling himself he was only looking for the source of the blood that decorated her face. He was reluctant to draw his hand away, telling himself it was because he hadn't been able to ascertain how bad the wound was. as he withdrew he heard her breathing change, and he glanced distractedly at the screen. No change. Zero placed his hand on his own head instead, unlocking the mask and letting it drop to the floor with a light clatter. He pushed his cloak back and loosed the black veil from his face, letting it too fall away.
His hand reached out, barely touching the edge of Kallen's face. She was going to end up sacrificing too much, damnit, she was getting reckless. She needed to understand her place, understand that Zero needed her for this to work. No one else could replace her. The loss of their only ace would be catastrophic.
Tonight he had nearly lost. The battle, Kallen, a dozen knightmare frames, and now he felt himself about to lose his composure. He tried to rein himself in, attempting to pull back, and couldn't bring himself to completely retreat, his fingertips desperately straining to remain in contact with physical proof that she was still alive.
The wave of emotions threatened to overwhelm him. He had come into the room with barely contained distress and panic, and now found himself submerged in a wave of gratitude that fortune had saved her. His other hand wiped his eyes dry as he forced himself to stop clenching his jaw and hunching himself as though trying to physically fight an emotional war. When his hand fell to his side, his back was straight and his face was stoically blank.
"Kallen," he whispered fondly. She said nothing as he traced the contour of her cheek, his touch sliding down her throat and over her chest, where he pushed aside the bed sheet ever so slightly in order to wrap his fingers around her limp hand.
Leaning over, he pressed his lips to her forehead, the contact so light it barely registered in his mind as he moved away. His bangs stroked her face as he placed another kiss on her chin, resisting the sudden temptation he couldn't explain to place his mouth to her neck, twisted just a little away from him and exposed where her jacket had been pushed open to check her pulse.
He forced his gaze up to her face and took in the eerie sight of her so close and yet unresponsive and unaware. If he couldn't feel the warmth of her breath seeping out her open mouth he might have thought she was a corpse after all.
"Live," he said softly, and covered her mouth with his own. After a second he leaned in and pressed his body closer to her, his eyes closing, kissing her like the prince trying to coax awake his sleeping beauty.
Zero drew away. The taste of her blood had settled on his tongue, and involuntarily his tongue darted out, licking it from his lips. His lidded eyes were transfixed on her unchanged face. Neither of them spoke or moved. At last he pushed the air out of his lungs and stepped back, letting go of her hand so he could bend down to retrieve his mask. The rest of the Black Knights were waiting for a report on her condition. He had to keep them from getting anxious about how long he was taking to perform what was supposed to be a quick assessment. C.C. was probably impatient with the boring work of standing guard. He couldn't put aside his duties to the many for the sake of his attachment to the one.
Just as his hand finished leaving hers, he felt something weakly grip his wrist, pressing with all what strength it had into the layers of fancy fabric. Caught unexpectedly, he left the mask on the floor and glanced at her from his stooped position, his eyes wide. Was she--?
When nothing more happened, he cautiously reached down, stretching to grab the mask. With it in hand, he stood up and turned his stunned gaze onto the hand attached around his wrist. Not knowing what to do, he stood staring down at her dumbly. The longer he stood, the more he felt his expression melting, until a ghost of a smile lined his mouth. Zero twisted his arm in Kallen's grasp until his palm rested on the back of her hand, his fingers loosely lacing between hers. Her grip tightened again.
"You're awake?" he observed, feigning smug amusement, as if he had been certain of it all along. When she said nothing, he leaned in, brow furrowed, watching her lips for any sign of response. After a few seconds, he saw them twitch, and he tilted his head, lowering it down to try to hear whatever she was saying.
"Zero..."
A finger pressed to her lips briefly, and then the hand shifted up and stroked her cheek quietly. He stayed standing at her side in the dark little room for a long time.