Disclaimer: I don't own TRC, but CLAMP does. Nor do I own the fanfic (Broken) that this fanfic is based off of, Obsidian Butterfly (Nims) does.
A/N: This story is a fanfic of fanfic from my friend Nim's (Obsidian Butterfly)'s story, Broken. Yeah, it's completely AU and it's going to branch off. It was based on one of our conversations forever ago, where this story came into being. It's extremely late and it took me forever to find after I wrote it, but now that I found it, might as well post it.
Thanks to Darkchibi-Chan, too. Your unexpected message helped prompt me to search for this again after so many years so I could post it for everyone's enjoyment, including yours.
On a wider note, I hope anyone who reads this enjoys it, even if only a little, regardless of whether you comment or not.
Vengeance
His shimmering, silvery spirit was sitting as far away from his blond-haired "companion" as he could get, remaining completely still. His motionless form was unnervingly still as he stared at the mage, like an assassin gauging his opponent's strength before deciding how to kill them. An almost feverish rage was eating at his thoughts, a merciless desire for revenge as he gazed at Fai, an emotion as dark as it was intense while it swirled in his chest. He was like a predator gazing at its intended meal, eagerly taking note of the condition the older male was in.
The mage's ribs and right arm were most likely broken; he distinctly (gleefully, like a child watching its favorite television show,) remembers hearing a few distinct sounds like snapping wood. The rope hanging around the blond's neck was grimy with dried crimson blood from his wounds and the dirt covering the floor. Multi-colored bruises of varying sizes were scattered across the other's body, dark and painful, some the same diameter of an apple. Syaoran felt no sympathy or compassion for the mage and his obvious suffering. The opposite, in fact. The realization that the other was finally experiencing a fraction of the pain that Tsubasa had endured was actually quite satisfying.
He studied Fai's limp form coldly as the other lay on the ground, contempt twisting his lips into a grimace of revulsion. After all he had put Syaoran through, the mage couldn't even handle a fraction of the suffering that he had made Tsubasa endure. It was disgusting how weak the mage was, despicable how easily the blond gave into the pain he was going through. Fai was pathetic, and so were the rest of the blue-eyed man's companions. They were disgraceful, each and every one of those bastards.
Just thinking about them caused his rage to increase, becoming hotter and darker and much more intense. He hadn't thought he could ever hate anyone other than Fei Wong Reed so much, least of all his former traveling companions. He resisted the urge to bark out a mirthless laugh at how wrong he was, at how naïve he had been back then. He hated Fai and Kurogane, and most of all, he hated the original Sakura and his wife. His son's "girlfriend" had literally made Tsubasa's life a living hell, and his wife hadn't even done anything to stop her cruel treatment towards Tsubasa.
Under normal circumstances, such a strong, bitter emotion towards his wife and her twin would have made him feel both horrified and deeply ashamed of himself very quickly. But that was before he knew of their true nature, before he knew they enjoyed torturing the one person they were supposed to love more than anyone and protect with their lives. He couldn't stop the harsh feeling of betrayal that their actions caused him, fueling his hatred towards them as he thought of how they had betrayed his trust by antagonizing his child with never-ending torture.
He gave a low growl of anger from deep in his throat. Fury flashed hotly in his chest, quickly consumed by his insatiable rage. How could his wife do something so unforgivable to their child? No, not "their child"; not anymore. Not after what she had done to Tsubasa, not after how cruelly she had treated him. Tsubasa was his child now. Only he cared about his son, whose mother - and he would never blame Tsubasa at all if he never used that word to refer to his wife ever again - was just interested in torturing him.
His rage at the original Sakura and his wife was so deep it was borderline hatred. Even the words "Sakura" and "wife" tasted sour in his mouth, bile rising up inside his throat. His stomach churned in disgust each time he thought of them. He couldn't stop remembering how his two most-trusted people had treated his son despite Tsubasa's pleas for them to stop... Their callousness towards their "precious" person's suffering was absolutely repulsive.
And as if torturing his son wasn't enough, both the princess of Clow and his wife had turned on him and sent him to this world without his consent. Right when Tsubasa had needed him most, she had somehow been brutally ripped his soul from his original's body, an action that caused them both - Syaoran and his original - pain. Hadn't his child endured enough suffering so far? Syaoran thought, feeling a bitter hatred towards his son's cruel tormentors.
He knew why Sakura and his wife had sent him away. It was because he had been protecting his original, so she had decided to get rid of him to have easier access to his precious son. Now that he was gone, now that he could no longer protect his child, he knew that the princess and the ninja would go in for the kill. They would tear his child to shreds and destroy Tsubasa completely!
He felt his anger rage even more, eating away at his sanity. Being forced away from Tsubasa in the condition his poor child was in was the ultimate kind of cruelty, especially since he didn't know of his son's fate. The only thing that was probably worse than witnessing his precious child being tortured was not being in the same world as his child to help protect him from his torturers! All because of his wife and her original…
Worry clouded over the anger filling his chest, concern for his child making his desire for revenge momentarily disappear. Tsubasa had been so lifeless and still… His son hadn't even been breathing when he'd been forced away! He felt a wave of despair at remembering how motionless his son had looked. Who would protect Syaoran now? His mind was tormented with the thought of how helpless his son was, an image that refused to leave his mind. He felt so useless, being in a different world than his son and unable to protect him from his tormentors.
If he had it his way, he would torture his son's tormentors himself. He would even get revenge on his wife and her original if he saw them again. They had helped in tormenting his son, and he wouldn't let them get away with it. They all deserved to pay for the agony they put his child through, and he would make sure they paid in full. Sadly for them, he wasn't as forgiving as his wife and her original was. He would get his revenge on them no matter how long he had to wait, where he had to go, or what he had to do.
He would make them relive all the agony his poor child had suffered through, and then he would add on to that pain until his desire for revenge was satisfied enough for him to finally kill them. But he would never be satisfied. No matter how much pain he made those bastards suffer through for torturing his son, it would never be enough to quench his thirst to watch them squirm in agony.
And how good would it feel, Syaoran wondered, his fingers twitching in eagerness, to kill the mage and the rest of their former group? To take revenge on them for their vicious torturing of his child? He entertained the idea, the thought making his heart race in an impatient anticipation that was almost impossible to calm down. The intensity of the satisfaction he would feel at avenging his son's being viciously tortured would be so deep it was like a vicious pleasure clawing at his chest.
He remembered how Fai, Kurogane, his wife and her original had tormented his son. His eyes darkened with rage at the memories, the fury in his chest intensifying as he remembered how they had tortured Tsubasa until he screamed, begging for them to stop. What really pissed Syaoran off was that those damn sadists blatantly ignored his precious child's heart-wrenching screams of pain in favor of torturing him even more…
His enraged amber eyes narrowed with pure anger, feeling his thirst for revenge increase at his child's merciless treatment by their "precious friends". He was disgusted with himself for having ever thought of them as precious in any way - it was the worst mistake he'd ever made.
They would die, all of them, even if he had to track them down with same mindless intensity with which he used to track down feathers so long ago. He would kill them all for their unforgettably cruel treatment of Tsubasa. No matter what their excuses were, what lies they would tell him to try and convince him otherwise, no matter how much they begged, he would get rid of his son's three tormentors.
He felt his rage gnaw away at his mind, his desire for revenge steadily spiking higher. Just remembering how brutally they had treated his child, how they had made him scream and cry and beg for mercy, made his fury grow. He would never forgive them for their cruelty towards his son.
He let his eyes glance around the dark room, at the walls and the floor and the door and everything within his sight. He glared at everything in his site, hating the room that kept him from leaving, hating the person that kept on torturing his son and now begged for that same torture to stop being done to him, hating everything.
Being so near one of his child's torturer's but unable to touch him made him even more furious. But it gave him time to think, time to ponder and plan on what to do to his current "companion". He couldn't touch him, but that didn't mean he couldn't torture him in his own way.
He could whisper his ideas of what he would do to torture Fai into the mage's ears as he was being tortured, as he lay awake, as he slept, as he dreamed. He could plunge his hand into Fai's chest and grab his heart, feeling it beat within his clenched fist, each throb making him squeeze his transparent hand harder until it encased the pulsing muscle completely.
He wondered what it would feel like to have a body of his own back so that he could extract his revenge, so that he could make those bastards suffer just like his precious son had suffered. He could rip the bastard's chest open and literally tear his heart out or squeeze it in his hand until it burst.
Eyelids slipping closed a bit, he gazed at his companion through half-lidded eyes, wondering what he should do to the mage, which method of torture he should use. There were so many options to choose from, each one as exquisitely painful on the person being tortured as the next.
Fai lay unconscious a few feet away, but he wouldn't stay unconscious for much longer. Syaoran stood up slowly and slunk towards the blue-eyed mage, staring at him coldly. He hated him so much that the mere sight of him caused his stomach to churn in nauseous loathing.
Without hesitation, he lifted his hand and plunged it into Fai's chest, gripping the pulsing muscle within his hand and refusing to let go. Just because he could pass through objects, just because he was transparent, didn't mean he couldn't feel the things that he came into contact with. And if he could feel the things he touched, then it stood to reason that those things could feel him, too.
He tightened his grip on the vampire's heart. If only he had his physical body back, he could really cause some pain to those bastards, his son's torturers. He wouldn't stop squeezing, watching Fai's body spasm in response, the older man's breath quickening in shocked pain.
He felt no sympathy; the mage deserved all the pain he received. How cruelly he'd sneered at his child, mocked him, tortured him mercilessly… Syaoran growled softly and tightened his grip, watching as Fai writhed and coughed, blood falling from his lips onto the floor. He glared at the blond coldly, squeezing tighter and tighter by the second. A sadistic grin twisted his lips, his eyes lighting up with satisfaction at seeing one of his child's tormentor's experiencing a fraction of the pain they'd put his son through.
Better yet than the contentedness he felt at taking revenge of the blonde man was the reminder to himself that this was only the beginning of the pain he would put Fai through. He would make the man scream and beg and cry just like the older man had made his dear child do the same.
And, as he silently promised himself before, he would make sure Fai paid for torturing his son in full.