Okay everyone, here's chapter 1 mach II. Cleared up a few things, added horizontal lines, and provided the disclaimer. If any of you notice something off about my stories, PLEASE let me know! I hate looking stupid, and I've been out of fandom for a while not, so I have probably forgotten quite a few things. Let me know if you spot any inaccuracies.

Also, any nifty ideas about where this should head are welcome. I have a vague idea in my head, but you guys always come up with the cleverest stuff that I never would have thought of. Don't get sad if I don't use it though—I have some stuff planned that can't get dropped.

DISCLAIMER: My Japanese is not good enough to own Slayers. Don't even think it's remotely mine.

"I swear. 200 years of this. You'd think bad guys would get tired of it, you know?" There was a scuff of a boot against something large and wet, before something metallic scraped against rock. "I told you, I said, 'it's about time we retire,' didn't I? I never follow my own advice. We're too old for this." Boots crunched in the gravel. "But it doesn't let up. We never have to battle a leaky faucet or something easy, do we? We get 'grand high demon of the Trans-Atlantic railroad' or something. It's tiring." Lina Inverse sighed and attempted, unsuccessfully, to wipe her blade clean on her drenched cape. What was left of it, anyway. She eventually gave it up as a lost cause and walked over to Gourry. "We'd never be able to settle down, though, would we? Always off doing something."

Lina Inverse stretched once, trying to release the cricks in her back. She gave her sword a doubtful look; dripping with black ichors, it needed cleaning badly. Unfortunately, the rest of her was dripping with it as well. She shrugged and shoved it in the scabbard before kicking Gourry"Hey. Get up, we need to get moving. I'm in no mood to fight off all the scavengers that'll be after this pile of ripped up body parts." He ignored her. She sighed and dropped down next to him, folding her legs under her. "I guess you have a point. I certainly need a short rest, anyway. Son of a bitch demon. I'm getting so sick of them." She pulled off her now-black gloves, sneering in disgust as they dripped with sticky, oozing blood. "Ugh. I'm covered with this shit. For L-sama's sake, couldn't I just go back to killing em outright? You'd think they'd hurry up and die after a few hits." She looked down. "You, my good sir, need to learn to jump a bit faster. It'll get you into trouble one day." She got no response, and shrugged. "Whatever, Gourry." She stood, went over to the pile of gore and pulled his sword from it. "You know, I think I loved you once. Too bad I never got a chance to act on it, huh? Ah well. I probably wouldn't have had the guts, anyway." She belted the sword to her side, careful not to look too hard at it. "Well, buddy, you were a great guy. I'm gonna miss you." She sighed. "But you're quitting, and no backtalk. No more quests, escapades or fucking demonslaying for you. It wouldn't be the same now, anyway. Come on. I'll get you back to your wife. She's got to be missing you." She knelt, lifting Gourry's severed head from the puddle of red it lay in, and started back towards town.

"She certainly didn't take it well," Lina muttered, looking down at the sack that hung at her hip. "Maybe it was because I didn't bring back the rest of you? Hah! Imagine me trying to get that out of the inside of that thing. You're far too digestible for your own good." She swung the sack a bit, whistling. "I mean, I knew she would be mad at me, but I didn't think she's start screaming and run off like a whiny little girl. You sure know how to pick them." She shugged, and the broken clasp on her cloak came loose again, forcing her to put down the sack and stick it back in again. From the top of the fallen bag, some blonde hair spilled. She swung it up and over her shoulder, and continued down the muddy road.

The rain had simply poured from the sky the night before, making Lina take her somewhat handicapped protector into an inn for shelter. Of course one of the maids had gotten snoopy the next morning, and Lina had been forced to toast a few well-meaning town guards. On the upside, she mused, that meant she hadn't had to pay for the rooms afterwards, which was always a plus. She skipped a bit at the thought before being put back out of sorts by the squelching mud.

"If only I could cast a fireball every few feet or so," She muttered, thinking that although Gourry certainly had lost a lot of weight, he was still getting a bit heavy. "But that would slow us down even more than the mud. You're lucky," She glared at the leather sack. A bit of red was beginning to seep through the seams at the bottom. "You don't have to walk. Wish I knew how to force you to."

Further up the road, someone was approaching. Lina couldn't see them yet, but the magic signature seemed benign. Nevertheless, Lina had been fooled before, and better safe than sorry. She set down the sack and let her hand rest oh-so-casually on her short sword, already muttering the beginning words to a fireball as the person came into view from behind a spray of trees.

"Lina."

Lina grinned, dropping her hand from the sword and quelling the fireball. "Amelia! I'm thrilled to see you. You have no idea how heavy this was getting." She tossed the sack at Ameila, who caught it instinctively before letting it drop from her hands in horror. The sack fell open, and Gourry stared up at her with glassy eyes.

Amelia could not quite bite back the scream that made its way up from the pit of her stomach. Lina winced—that girl had good breath support. "You… I can't believe you… I didn't think Shylphiel was in her right mind when…" Amelia started shaking, and ripped her gaze away from the gristly sight to goggle open-mouthed at the redhead. "I didn't think you had really done it. You… You were always a force of good in the world." She paused. "Well, on average," honestly forced her to admit. She raised her hands, already glowing green. "You're my friend, Lina, but I can't let you get away with killing Gourry."

"Killing—Now wait a god-damned minute. I didn't kill Gourry." Lina slapped away Amelia's shaking hands, and the green light faded. Amelia cringed away from her. "Why in the Lord of Nightmare's name would I do something as stupid, wasteful, and idiotic as that? I even offered to give back his sword while that silly goose was running away from me."

"You… you have his head… you're carrying around his head in a sack…"

"Well, I wasn't just going to leave him there, was I? He'd be just sitting there for who knows how long." She shoved the shocked woman away and picked up the sack again, swinging it back over her shoulder. "If you're not going to help me, get lost. I don't need to humor to your random accusations, and I certainly can't put up with them the whole way there. Go back home—you have a country to run."

Amelia swallowed audibly and clutched at reason. "Where are you taking him?"

Lina paused. For a second she l looked as though she was trying to remember something, but the moment passed, and she silently began walking again. Amelia felt tears running down her face as she ran out of possible explanations. She ran back down the road in the opposite direction Lina had taken, tripping as tears blinded her. She couldn't handle this on her own. She didn't know what to do. And if she tried to force Lina to do anything, she could likely end up like Gourry. She needed help.

Zelgadis had finally resigned himself to never getting his cure.

Oh, he had figured it out, theoretically, the problem was how one could manage it practically. Seven years after he and Lina's merry band had parted ways, he had been starting to lose hope. By some miraculous stroke of luck (depending on your viewpoint), he had stumbled upon a secret storeroom for Rezo's research, most of it dating back to when Zelgadis was human. Holding himself back only barely, gritting his teeth the entire time, he read it all slowly and carefully-- although he wanted with every fiber of his being to tear through it like Lina would have. He could not afford to let any information slip by in his frenzy.

He carefully read every scrap, every sentence. Then he spent a while drunk. He wasn't quite sure how long he'd floated in an alcoholic stupor, but it had probably been about a year. The hangover, when he had finally come to his senses, had been spectacular. Of course, at the time, he considered it his due, a physical manifestation of the pain in his heart.

L-sama, he mused, I am such a teenager sometimes.

Chimeras were made by taking parts of other things and putting them together. He knew that. He'd known that all along. He didn't know why it hadn't occurred to him before that there was really no cure—likely he had simply pushed it to the back of his mind in some sort of false hope.

The ugly truth was, if he tried to get rid of the parts of himself he hated, there wouldn't be enough of him left over. He could add on bits, but then he was really back where he had started, wasn't he?

Afterwards, He spent most of his time in the tiny cabin he had found in the woods. He had nowhere to go, really, and nothing to do. He'd kill something, eat it, and then take out frustration by hitting things for a while. He hadn't seen another human…well, a human, anyway, in the past three years or so.

There was a rap at the door.

Zelgadis was too worn and tired to start in surprise, but he did draw his sword before he answered. It was pouring outside—again, he thought—and the poor bewildered queen standing at his doorstep looked rather worse for wear. She was soaked, shivering, and miserable, and bore an unflattering resemblance to a kitten that had fallen into the bathtub. He sighed and opened the door, and she shuffled in, dripping. Despite her current bedraggled appearance, she'd grown up over the years, and was now starting to crest the peak of womanhood. After her father had died, she had finally grown up a bit at heart, too. Not enough, it seems.

"You really shouldn't be traveling around without your retinue, highness." He reprimanded quietly, tossing her a blanket. She quickly wrapped it around herself, shaking so hard she could hardly speak. She had spent the whole day traveling in the rain, tracking the charm she had put on her bracelet ten years ago. She had been pleased that he still had it, but he wasn't as happy to see her as she had hoped.

"I—I don't like to—to—to put on airs," She managed, blushing a bit. "No one e- else as a ret—ret—"

"It has nothing to do with airs," Zelgadis admonished. "It has to do with safety. You can't go around without anyone to protect you, no matter how good you are at magic. It's asking for trouble and puts your entire kingdom at risk." Amelia seemed to shrink in on herself even more, looking positively miserable. Zelgadis sighed.

"What did you come here for?" He asked slowly. "It's miserable weather out. Are you alright?"

"I'm… I'm…" She shivered. "I… I don't know. I don't know what to do." She started crying again, or perhaps still—she had been so drenched when she came in that perhaps he hadn't noticed the tears. "I… we think… we think Lina killed Gourry."

Zelgadis snorted. "Seems likely enough, she has come close a few times before." He went to get Amelia some tea.

Amelia shook her head. "I don't mean got mad and beat him up. I mean she actually killed him. She's gone crazy. She's carrying his head around in a sack." Zelgadis stared at her, setting the cup back on the table. "I asked her where she was going, and she didn't answer. It almost seemed like she didn't know." She sobbed, and Zelgadis tried not to wince when she wiped her nose on the blanket. "I don't know what to do. We should at least bury him. His head, anyway. But… there's no way I'm can to try to take it away from her…" She lasped into silence.

"And what do you want me to do about it?"

Amelia looked up at him with big, blue eyes that he had once thought about so often. L-sama, I feel old. "I…I need your help. I can't do this alone. I'll do everything I can, but—"

He sighed and handed her a cup of tea. She took it and started crying again. "Look, you have responsibilities elsewhere. If you die, what happens to your kingdom?" Amelia blanched. "That's right, it goes to your sister. Can you imagine what a disaster that would be? You need to go home and stay out of trouble."

"But… But Lina is…"

"And, it's none of our business." Zelgadis said firmly. Amelia screwed her face up and glared at him.

"But it is, Zelgadis. What if she goes crazier and starts killing people?"

"She kills bandits all the time." Amelia started to pout. "Oh no." Zelgadis held his hands up as if to ward off the tears. "Nothing doing, Amelia. I'm not running off after a possibly homicidal, insane dra-matta." Amelia resumed crying, only this time louder, and her eyes seemed larger than her face. "What do you want me to do, just waltz up and—that's…that's exactly what you want me to do, isn't it?" Amelia turned up the volume. "No. No. No. I'm not going to."

"You're our only hope. And you don't have any responsibilities you'd be running out on, do you?" Zelgadis sighed.

"That's a polite way of saying I'm expendable."

"What else are you going to be doing other than sit around moping? You haven't aged a bit, you're the same as when we met, but you're acting like a tired old man. Get out and do somebody some good, why don't you? Or are you going to sit here and whine about how life sucks so you're not going to play anymore?"

Zelgadis stood up. "That's not a very polite way for a Queen to talk."

"You're not being very agreeable yourself." She blinked back tears, and secretly Zelgadis was a bit relieved she's found someone to get angry at, so she would stop wailing. He just so wished it hadn't been him.

Zelgadis shook his head. "It's none of your business what I do. You should be getting home. You are important to your people and can't go gallivanting around like this anymore." Amelia dug in her heels and glared at him.

"Promise you'll go after Lina."

"I'm not going to—"

"Promise you'll go after Lina, or I'll stay here until you do."

"You need to get home," Zelgadis said tiredly. "You can't run off like a child. They're probably worried."

"So promise."

He rolled his eyes and threw up his hands. "Fine. I promise. Now go home."

Amelia smiled and raised her fist triumphantly. "Yes sir!" She paused.

"Yes?"

"….can I wait until it stops raining?"

Later on, Zelgadis sat against the wall and listened to Amelia breathe in her sleep. He'd wanted that, once. Now, all he could think of was how much younger she seemed. He felt so…so old. On top of that, there was no way her kingdom, even a kingdom as professedly fair as hers, would allow something like him on the throne. That would mean they'd be relegated to dark hallways and corners, and constantly worry that they would be found out. He sighed. Not something I'd look forward to, he mused, trying to sharpen his sword as quietly as possible. And it wouldn't make her happy, either. Maybe if he were human, it would be another matter.

He didn't really want to find Lina. She was obviously off the deep end, which made her even more dangerous than normal. He'd probably get himself killed. Although, Amelia did point out that I wouldn't be throwing away that much. What would he be losing, anyway? Another day sitting alone in a shack feeling sorry for himself? At least life was interesting around Lina. Interesting gets you killed, but then, that's pretty much what I was trying to do all last year, wasn't it?

He'd go see what was going on. No harm in checking out the situation.

Lina was tired. She had walked right through the storm the other night, and was feeling the results. Every bit of her was soaked, and her hair was plastered to her face in big, wet clumps. She swiped at it ineffectually before giving up. Gourry seemed to be getting heavier every day, and the red that had leaked from his bag had then continued down her thigh. Her boot, she was sure, was full of blood. It had all congealed a few days ago, and had left a grimy, sticky brown mess.

"Thanks a lot, Gourry. I'm busting my ass dragging you around, and on top of that you leak. I don't know why I try, I really don't." She switched hands, trying to hold the head further away from her to avoid touching the gunk. "You need a bath."

"I could say the same of you, Lina. You stink."

Lina spun around, surprised for the first time in a while. She hadn't even sensed him coming up behind her, but when she saw who it was, she relaxed. Slightly.

"Zelgadis," She smiled, swinging the sack over her shoulder. He didn't even wince at the wet thump it made. "Fancy meeting you here. How goes the search?"

"Not searching anymore." He walked forward, and held out a hand. The white clothes he had worn since she had seen him last were ragged and torn, draping about him like a ghost. He carried a shovel over his shoulder, and Lina briefly wondered why. "Give me his head."

"What are you talking about?" Lina asked, backing up in disgust.

"Give me Gourry's head, Lina. It's starting to stink more than you do. You need to bury it." He followed her as she retreated. She hadn't started to cast anything yet—she was still too surprised.

"He's dead, Lina. I don't know why you're wandering around with your best friend's head in a bag, but it isn't going to look very good to anyone else. Amelia is sure that you killed him."

Lina snorted. "Why on earth would I kill him? I didn't kill him. I protect him."

"But you can't protect him anymore, Lina. He's dead." Zelgadis kept coming. Lina drew her sword wearily, holding it out at him. It went clink against his chest as he walked into it, scowling. "Gourry is dead, Lina. Where are you going?"

"I'm… I'm going…" Lina frowned. "I need to keep moving. The rain has been slowing us down." She shivered and turned around, continuing to slog through the mess that the road had become.

"You haven't eaten. You haven't really slept. None of the inns along this road remember seeing you. Where are you even going?" Lina shook her head, but otherwise ignored him. "You don't know where you're going. You haven't even washed off whatever you killed last—you reek. You have nowhere to be, Lina Inverse. You have nowhere to be and your best friend is dead and you're carrying his severed head around in a sack." He grabbed her shoulder, and held on as she tried to shrug him off. "He's dead, Lina. Dead. You need to bury him. Preferably near here—his wife lives nearby. Remember? The girl you frightened out of her wits when you showed up and tried to give him back?" Lina had stopped walking, and the mud was seeping into their boots. She wasn't responding. "You need to bury him, and take a bath. You reek. You're covered in black goo and you likely have wounds that are festering in that sludge." He spun her around to look at him, but she kept her eyes resolutely on her feet. "He. Is. Dead. Gourry is dead. I know how much you cared for him, and I know you secretly loved him, but he's dead. And you need to bury him."

"I need to go." She mumbled stubbornly.

"Where? Where do you need to go? You can't bring people back from the dead, Lina. Even you're not that powerful." He yanked her back as she tugged away, shaking her. "He's dead! Lina!" Zelgadis slapped her, making her gasp and look up into his eyes. "He's dead!" He slapped her again. Her eyes were wide, and her knees started to give way. Zelgadis grabbed her by both shoulders and shook her. "He's dead! He's dead! He's—"

"I KNOW!" She screamed, shoving him violently away from her before collapsing in the mud. She clutched the sack to her chest and fell into wretched, broken sobs. "I know. I know he's dead. They're all dead. They're always dead. I know. I couldn't stop it. I tried to stop it. I couldn't stop it." Soon after that Zelgadis stopped understanding—nothing was intelligible through her muffled crying. Zelgadis had no idea what to do about it. He settled for gruff, since it was the only way he would get her to let go of the sack and take a bath.

"Come on," he lifted her by her arm, walking back the way they had come. Lina whimpered and stumbled, but didn't resist. "We're going to bury him. I know a graveyard nearby, we'll get a tombstone for it later. Come on, you need to keep moving."

"I didn't mean to let—" The rest was drowned in her sobs "I tried to—"

"I know. I know you did. He's still dead. We need to bury him." She nodded weakly and clutched her sack, and Zelgadis did his best not to exhibit his disgust too openly.

It was only about ten minutes to the graveyard, and she stayed silent as he dug a small hole and wrested the leather bag from her. He didn't open it—It was most likely not something either of them wanted to see—and put it carefully in the ground before covering it back up again. Then he half led, half carried Lina over to the nearest pond and fireballed it. "Lina. Take a bath."

She sniffled, staring at the steaming water, but didn't move to go in. Zelgadis sighed. "Lina, you need to take a bath. You're disgusting. Get in the water." When she still didn't move, Zelgadis rolled his eyes and tossed her in. There was no shriek, no fireballs, just a sputtering as she came up, but it did seem to shock her out of her apathy a bit. She started to undress, and Zelgadis turned his head, embarrassed. "If you throw your clothes over here, I'll wash them while you get cleaned up."

So this is what I've become, Zelgadis mused later, scrubbing at a stubborn stain. Lina Inverse's washing woman. It wouldn't have been as bad if she hadn't walked around in them for days afterwards, but they would never have come clean anyway. He settled for 'not smelly' and decided he'd bully her into getting some new clothes later. As if I'm one to talk, Zelgadies thought as he glanced down at his own ragged tunic. Lina always cared about what she wore, though. I wonder where all the jewels in her shoulder armor went? He looked more carefully. Seems like they were smashed out. The metal is warped beyond repair, too. She'll just have to deal with it. Lina had always loved her gaudy, loud, and above all attention grabbing gear. Unfortunately for her, everything was either smashed, warped, burned, or dyed a sticky black. It's not like it's my fault, Zelgadis sneered internally. I shouldn't feel guilty about it. But he did. He sighed before wringing out the last of her clothes and moved on to scraping congealed blood off of—and out of—her boots.

Lina silently padded over to him, wrapped up in the tattered once-white cloak he had left her. She sat down and stared at the boots.

"Most of that blood isn't mine."

"I guessed." Zelgadis paused and glanced sideways at her, a little girl still, although a while had passed since he'd met her. He doubted she had been 15 when he had met her, and he knew she wasn't now.

"How old are you?"

She paused, and Zelgadis got the distinct impression that she was doing addition in her head. "Twenty seven."

She was likely adding the time he'd known her to the age she's told him when they'd met. "And what do you tell people who haven't known you for twelve years?"

"…fifteen."

He returned to the boots, scrubbing them with sand. Amelia and Shylphiel had thought she'd cracked when she'd shown up with Gourry's head, but Zelgadis considered it a possibility that that point had been pretty far back. He was already feeling a little crazy—he had been a bit older than he'd let on when they'd met, too, but not much, and already he was feeling uncomfortable watching everyone get old without him. She seemed to be recovering more quickly than one would expect. It was likely more of a relapse than the first full-bore descent into insanity.

"And how many times has this happened, now?" He asked. She was completely still, staring at the water and not answering. "How many times have you had to go through this? How many times do you let yourself get attached, only to see them go again? I don't think this is just about Gourry."

Silence.

He dropped the boots and leaned over his knees, staring at the water to give Lina a shred of privacy to cry in.

"How many Gourrys are you crying for, Lina?" He asked softly.

"Enough that I should have learned by now." Lina said coldly, standing. She dropped the cloak and stood, and Zelgadis turned a bit purple before staring resolutely at her boots. She began dressing. "They never last long enough. They always die so soon." He felt her staring at the back of his head, but he didn't turn. "You looking forward to it, Zel?"

"I used to. I look at you and certainly don't anymore."

She snorted. "How sweet of you." She fiddled with the clasp of her cloak, trying to bend it back into shape. "At least it gives you more time to look for a cure, I suppose."

"Isn't one." He shrugged and began to gather wood. She followed quietly, not smelling as nice as she might have, but at least not exuding that clotting reek anymore. "Anything I managed to do would leave me with parts of something else. Too much of me got thrown away the first time, and if I went for bits of a human, I would a) have to kill someone, b) Find a lab with someone with enough knowledge to patch us together and c) would be completely unstable without the demon magic holding me together, I'm afraid. I'm never going to be human again." He shrugged. "It's almost a relief. At least now I know, and I'm not constantly thinking maybe, maybe if I just searched a little harder, I would find it…" His monologue trailed off.

Where she may once have tried to cheer him up, Lina settled this time for silence. It made Zelgadis uncomfortable.

"I could always knock my head off somewhere, or jump off a cliff." He smiled, but it lacked any humor. "I'm too scared to end it like that, though."

"I know how that feels." Lina helped him pile up the wood and set it aflame, before they both sat down in front of it. She looked over at him, taking in the blue skin and wiry hair. "Don't give it up, though."

Zelgadis frowned. "Give what up?"

"Give up your search." Lina poked at the fire a few times, and Zelgadis thought maybe that would be all she was planning on saying, before she started up again.

"Not having a goal makes you lose it, and fast. You can't stay sane without something to do. You're going to go absolutely bonkers sitting around brooding over the past." Zelgadis shook his head, already squelching the hope that rose it's tattered head at the thought of becoming human again. He had learned his lesson. Sometimes it was best to just accept things and move on.

"There is no cure, Lina, not really. Too much of me was tossed out to go back to who I was. I already explained it."

She snorted and tossed the branch she had been poking the flames with into the fire. "So you can't go back to what you were. Big deal. None of us can. There was never anything saying you couldn't make it better, was there?" She seemed to shake something off—her back was straighter, and that stubborn smile was creeping back into place. "You need demon magic to glue everything together, right? Well, replace some of it. You don't need to toss it all out." She shoved him in the arm. He couldn't help smiling. "We just need to find out how. That, and maybe a little grave digging." She grinned. "And besides, I guess there are worse things than spending eternity as a walking, talking blue statue, if you stop to think about it."

"That's true. I could be spending eternity as a red-haired smartass." Lina laughed and smacked him in the arm, then shook her hand in pain before glaring at him. He smiled.

There was silence for a while. I was already starting to turn into a crazy old hermit, Zel thought. Another decade or so and I would be certifiable. He guessed Lina had at least been around for a century, maybe two. If you knew to look for it, she was mentioned in a lot of histories, and he had read a bit more than your average researcher in his quest for a cure. How well would he have turned out after that long without something to look for, losing everyone he let in over and over again? He blew his breath out through his teeth.

"I don't know how you managed to stay sane."

"Where have you been the past twelve years?" She lied down, head on her arms. "I didn't."