The bridge was cold and empty in the wake of the last Angel. Machines clicked gently as they ran their cooling cycles, artificial breezes causing waves of LCL to knock against the unmovable flank of unit 02. Here on its head she perched, one hand slowly caressing the surface of the red machine.
"You're mine," Asuka murmured to the steel chassis. "You're mine, you are mine and not his you are mine and you will do what I say,".
When she bent her body to kiss her shiny toy, bandaged hands threatened to slip on the polished surface. But she was steadfast. She was sturdy. She was safe, here, with her protector, her Evangelion.
The one thing she had left.
In the center of the geofront she sat, astride on her steel coffin.
Asuka Langley Soryuu smiled.
-
In the Evangelion. Out of the Evangelion. Back in the Evangelion. Fight. Fight because he says so. Fight to make him smile.
Break, parts are replaced. Spare parts. Parts of her, parts of it. Replaceable.
She was replaceable.
And it was painful. It hurt when the blood that was hers and not hers bled from her, stained the rough cotton pulled tight around her limbs, her parts. Pulled tight. Holding her together.
But this was what hurt the most. She was here and she was hurt but he was too and he wasn't awake and he was hurting and she didn't want him to hurt and she didn't know why.
But he was here now and she wasn't and it was just him and her and he moved in his sleep, came closer to her hand on his pillow.
Closer.
This was right. This felt good. Felt like…
…protectiveness. Holding in her arms, a precious gem, a squalling baby. A present. Something he had given her.
A voice unused in decades welled up in her throat, threatened to overflow. She held it back but it broke free, issued forth in a rasp of dead air.
"Child."
Rei ghosted a hand over a pale cheek, brushed aside dark strands of limp hair.
"…Son."
On the bed, Shinji moved slightly. He curled his body towards her, foetal, and a name, unspoken, balanced on his lips.
"I will protect you." She told him, tears tracking across her virgin cheeks.
His face scrunched up, and he breathed out the name he was holding inside.
"…Asuka."
"What?" Yui growled. "What?"
-
The one constant in Shinji's life was the fact that he would do whatever people told him. He would do whatever his father told him. Why? Because what else could he do?
Whenever he went against what his father wished, bad things happened.
He had to do what his father asked, then, or bad things will happen.
He has to work as hard as he can to fight the angels to make things safer for people.
He has to be better.
Even if he doesn't have the moxie of Asuka, or the unwavering strength of will of Rei.
He needs that edge, that rush that comes when someone praises him. He needs to be special. He needs power. He needs to be needed.
He needs to be wanted. He needs….
Nothing comes to mind. He doesn't understand people. He doesn't understand himself.
He wants to collapse. Close his eyes and disappear for a moment. But there's no escaping. What's done is done.
He is his father's son.
-
One hand was raised into the sky- between his fingers shone the sun, fingers of light escaping his grip. Rather poetic, he mused, tilting his hand until the sun sat upon it like a precious bauble.
Many, many years ago the sun had been worshipped as a God. Even if humans in this day and age new it as just a ball of flaming gas, to the Aztecs it had seemed mystical and powerful.
He himself preferred the dull face of the moon to the shining surface of the sun. It held more mystery than the sun. Mankind knew that anything landing on the sun would burn up instantly, but the moon had a hidden, mysterious side, and man feared that which he did not understand and could not control.
Mankind was too arrogant. They thought that if they put a shell over the enemy's weapons then they could make it their own, but weapons broke and shells were meant to be cracked.
But that's okay. After all, the only one who mattered was him. He was… he was special.
He was a boy so convinced he was a failure…. Yet so beloved of this one. He was so so special. So perfect for his role. So …fitting.
Kaworu laughed up at the sky. The moon, might be mysterious, but the sun consumes all.
Shinji wouldn't fail him.
--
Note about the title: On one of the English Evangelion Platinum discs, there's commentary from Spike Spencer about how when the dubbing company was talking to the Japanese about translation, the Japanese were quite insistent that when the Children be referred to as 'Child' even in plural. This was eventually negotiated out, but something about it stuck to me.
With a language like English, where saying something like that would sound so out of place, saying 'Childs' sounds positively alien, only somehow it's only a little niggling in the back of your head that sounds strange, like a letter pretending to be a number.
Ever said a word so many times that your tongue slips over it and you can't remember if that's how to say the word of if it's even a word any more? That's what I mean.
Anyway, I know there's many differed theories to Evangelion, but to me the anime is so ambiguous that I should be allowed forgiveness if anyone's angry over my characterization here.
I'm a lazy idiot who has been writing this for nearly a year, heh.
Signing out! Rafira . livejournal . com
ETA: Escalus- Yes I am a tard who has never ever been able to spell Kaworu's name for some reason. Corrected, thanks.
Panties- Anon I love you! I wish you did have an account so I could properly reply and tell you how much that lovely review meant to me!