Chapter 1: Surfacing

A/N: A huge thanks to Auntie Mom for the great beta and the continued encouragement. I really appreciate it! Ialso really digall the feedback, everyone...hope you enjoy the next chapter. Angst, ahoy! Danger, ahoy! w00t!

A/N 2: This chapter starts a few weeks after the events at the Factory, then flashes back to where"Time to Tell" left off...


Time: Then

Month One

Darkness. Total and complete, to the point where memories of what light looks like have faded away and even the night's sky would hold more brilliance than the entirety of this place. Time passes even though it has no meaning in the darkness.

Month Two

The first time a pinprick of light intrudes, it's terrifying. But terror is the first feeling this soul, a relative blank slate in incarceration, has experienced since the blackness descended. And the only feeling. Terror becomes misery, and grief, and love, and lust, all in one.

Month Three

He exists. He knows this for the first time since that initial moment of darkness. He must exist because if he has terror…if he fears…then he is something. Someone. And, though the blackness has become everything…he knows there is more. Something more that he needs to find. It's calling to him… He can almost touch the edges of the darkness now, rubbing at them till they become paper thin. He is on the verge, through sheer will, working away at the darkness…

Month Four

The first thing he's aware of is a beep. A rapidly increasing beep beep beep that seems to come from somewhere inside him. He tries to listen more closely, to find out where it's coming from, but the harder he tries….the more quickly it slips away.

The next thing he is conscious of, a lifetime later, is the sound of the beeping again…but this time, there are voices. He hears snippets of conversation, but can't seem to make sense of who is speaking, what they're saying…

… "been like this for over three months, Doc. Can't you do anything to keep him up? If…"

… "extent of the damage is unknown, sir. The contusions…the concussion…"

… "can come back, I'll need to talk to him. I'll wire the money the usual way…"

He's not sure if the words are fading in and out, or if it's he who moves from here to there. In fact, he's not really sure about anything. About where he is or what happened to make his body unresponsive to the signals he tries to send. Where he was before he ended up this place where sound exists. His brain can't seem to make the connection to why he would be in such a place. Even the details of who he is seem to be fragments in his jumbled mind.

In fact, there are only two things he's sure of; two names that run through his head, chasing after each other through the haze of pain and numbness that ebbs and flows.

Amon. Robin.

He's pretty sure that one of those names is his own. And he knows that the other is vital to his existence. But why?

… "responding better to the treatment than we expected, but it will still be a few months…"

… "can't hound you about it anymore, I know, but he's all I've got, in a crazy, screwed up…"

… "do our best, sir…"

"Robin…" he whispers, in a bout of strength.

As he drifts off, he vaguely feels a hand frantically grip his own. He's too tired to care about the urgent voice, someone saying that name…Amon…and lets himself sink back into the darkness. But as he slips away…he hears one last fragment.

... "I know, little brother. I know. I'll keep her…"

Month Five:

Staying awake is easier now and the connections that eluded him before are simply made. But he's grateful for the amount he sleeps because it saves him from the living hell of not being able to move; one leg and one arm are immobilized in metal contraptions, his ribcage wrapped tightly, and his eyes shooting with pain if he looks directly into the light. True, sleep saves him from his discomfort, but it also takes him away from the worst aspect of his current condition:

The constant questions that plague his mind.

Every day since he's regained full consciousness, fleeting though it may be, is met the same way, with the same questions. Where is she? What happened after they entered the woods? Did Nagira find her? Is she alive? Has her craft grown beyond her control? Last, but by no means least, what kind of a watchdog loses his charge during his first hour on the job?

And while he seems to remember Nagira's presence in this place, somewhere on the edges of his semi-conscious memory, he hasn't seen his brother in the five months since the Factory. He only knows it's been that long from the chatter of the nurse who bathes him every day. Try as he might, all of his memories begin with the sound of warning klaxons…

Flashback: The Factory, five months before

"Let's go."

Amon barely nodded as Robin turned from the laboratory door. He didn't have to ask to know what she'd done, just like he knew that it would torture and comfort her by turns when they got away from this place.

When. Not "if." He wouldn't accept their demise as a possibility.

Amon raced down the hallway with his ward and Karasuma, straining his ears and his eyesight to figure the proximity of the gunshots and explosions that rocked the Factory. The slight, acrid scent of smoke began to fill the subterranean air, the filtration system no longer doing its job.

Wait, that was it. That was the answer. It called to him and in some dim corner of his mind he realized that this was more than just simple intuition. But that didn't matter in the face of salvation found.

"The ducts," Amon shouted.

"What?" Robin asked, blinking against the ever increasing smoke.

He shot a look toward Karasuma, saw her eyes widen in understanding as she looked at the wall near the elevator. The self destruct system had already begun a series of explosions, shattering walls like the one in front of them. The gaping hole exposed a jagged entrance to the ventilation shaft.

"In there?" Robin asked, her eyes wide with fear.

"Yes," he answered in a clipped tone. "There is no way that we will make it out of the building by going upward. Sideways is now our best bet."

Robin seemed to be searching his eyes for something, some sort of reassurance that this was the right way to go, that he would keep her safe. Her chin shook, whether from nerves or the vibration of the dying building he couldn't be sure, but it seemed like she'd found her answer.

No quaver entered her voice as she said, "I trust you, Amon."

An odd sort of terror and relief went racing down into Amon's gut at her words, but he pushed it all aside. "Karasuma, you go first, Robin, in the middle, and I'll bring up the rear. Quickly."

The duct was a tight fit for someone of his stature, but he shuffled in after Karasuma and Robin, lying on his belly and using his elbows to pull himself along the ribbed sheet metal tube.

At first, their journey was uneventful and silent, the only sounds those of the far off shattering walls and the labored breathing of the three travelers. Amon's thoughts raced as he ran through the schematics of the building in his mind. He and Michael had quickly eliminated the airways as a point of entry since they could not be forced open from the outside. Robin could possibly have burned through the walls…but they'd been afraid she'd draw too much attention. Now, though, survival was their only imperative. Robin's survival.

Amon's planning was broken off abruptly as Robin stopped in front of him as the walls of the tube shook around them.

"Robin. We have to keep moving."

"I know," she said, "but-"

Whatever she'd been about to say was cut off as a massive rumbling sounded directly overhead. Karasuma's terrified eyes sought out his own in the dim light. "Amon!" she cried. "The support walls! They're coming right down-"

Amon's heart raced as time slowed, adrenaline shocking him into motion. He dove for Robin in the tiny tunnel, covering her body with his own and pushing her out of the way in one quick motion. He faintly registered Karasuma's scream as pieces of what used to be the wall began to crash into the ventilation shaft. Something massive hit his left leg, which he had thrown over Robin's slender hip, followed quickly by a smaller, sharper piece of debris that seemed to rip into his right forearm.

"Amon!" came a panicked cry below him.

His mind swam with the pain and adrenaline, starting to fade until two delicate hands grabbed onto his own, squeezing and pleading. 'Robin,' he thought, and his mind started to grow less foggy. 'Robin, Robin, Robin.' He chanted it over and over in his head as his eyesight cleared.

"Karasuma," he said, his voice rough through the silt and dust. "I'm all right," he said tersely, heading off her inquiries. "We have to get Robin out of here, now. Keep moving."

He raised himself off of his ward with his one good leg and arm, walking almost crablike as she ventured once more into the space in front of them. He wasn't oblivious to her concerned looks, but her kindness and concern were not going to get them to safety.

"Keep moving, damn it," he said. Robin, duly chastised, seemed to almost sprint down the tunnel after Karasuma.

The pain started to spike again, coquettishly inviting him to the darkness of the unconscious, but he kept on with his chant. His goal.

'Robin. Robin. Robin.'

And then there was light; tiny pinpricks shining in the dimness as they reached a grated hatch. Karasuma struggled with the handle.

"Karasuma. Let Robin…" he mumbled.

She nodded and edged back toward Amon, switching places with Robin. Amon watched, with the fascination and horror he usually concealed from Robin when she used her craft, as flame bloomed and spread in a perfect circle on the metal door. Still, it didn't disintegrate- it needed a push.

"Karasuma," he said, knowing that his voice sound strained not only to himself. "We need to impact the door."

She nodded at him, drawing her gun as he tried to steady his own in the hand of his uninjured arm.

Blam Blam The sound ricocheted through the duct as the hatch fell open, letting in the dawning twilight. Karasuma and Robin made their way through the opening, each dropping easily to the ground only a few feet below. Amon angled his fall so that he landed on his good leg, but pain still radiated through the other.

"Amon!" Robin exclaimed as she bent to examine his mangled limb.

"We don't have time for that now," he snapped as he studied their surroundings. The shaft had led them through the underground complex and gradually upward to the very edge of the land where the Factory property met the water. Even now, the water lapped the slight incline in waves, spurred on by the explosions and Solomon boats that were beginning to enter the water.

"Karasuma, you have to get back up toward the entrance. You didn't see us escape. You didn't see us survive, understood?"

Karasuma stared back at him for one long moment, her eyes burning with some unnamed emotion. Then she dropped her head and sat heavily upon the rocky outcropping. "I understand. Although, off the record," she said as she turned toward Robin, her gaze still locked on his own, "I'm glad you did escape. I'm glad you survived. And I'll do everything I can so that no one knows of the miracle that happened today."

Amon shifted his gaze to Robin and watched as her eyes filled with tears. Yet she didn't let any of them fall.

"Miho," she said softly. She moved toward Karasuma and, rather than collapsing on her like she'd done in Zaizen's office, as a daughter to her mother, she bent her head and placed a kiss on Miho's forehead. Like mother to daughter, Amon thought to himself, and couldn't help that moment of wonder that raced through him. Was she really acting the part of the Eve so quickly?

The moment was broken as Robin flung herself at Karasuma, hugging her tightly.

"Stay safe," Karasuma said. Then Amon found her eyes on his as she said, "Keep him safe too…and let him keep you safe." He watched as she raised her eyes to Robin's. "You two have each other to depend on now. Remember that…and remind him that it works both ways when you have to, ok?"

Robin nodded and gave Karasuma one last squeeze before letting her go. Karasuma walked toward him, then, looking over his injuries with worry in her eyes.

"I'll be fine," he said tersely, rather than show emotion at their parting.

Karasuma gave him a faint smile. "I know you will, if she has anything to say about it," she said, motioning with her head back toward Robin. "Keep her safe, Amon. And keep us all safe." There was sadness in Karasuma's eyes as she said this to him, reminding him of the duty he'd sworn to uphold.

"Understood," he said softly. "Miho," he whispered, her first name foreign on his lips. "I… keep your back to the wall."

To his surprise, she pulled him into a quick hug and he found himself feeling…regret that he would have to leave someone who had become, without him knowing it, important to him. He said nothing as she pulled away, watching as she began to pick her way up the rocky incline to meet Solomon above.

It was then that his body began to shake. Damn adrenaline wearing off, he thought to himself, and the world seemed to fade for a moment.

"Amon!" His name coming from that voice yanked him back.

"Robin," he said, looking down into her concerned eyes. It was then that he realized that she was wrapped almost completely about him, her willowy body supporting his own.

"You're hurt. Badly," she said when he tried to cut her off. "We have to get you some help."

"But first we need to get away."

"But…"

"Robin," he said tersely, "Your safety is more important than my own. If you are to be the Eve," he said more softly, "you need to get used to that fact."

As he watched her think this through, the light of sunrise framing her face; for a moment he couldn't help but think that this notion of the Eve may actually be true. His logical mind had accepted Toudo's narrative…but had rejected the biblical implications. Amon was a spiritual man who was wary of fanaticism. But was it really fanaticism when it was the truth?

He looked deeply into Robin's eyes as if to find the answers…but it seemed like she had found some of her own. Again, she seemed to morph from timid Robin into an all-powerful witch right before his eyes. She stood straight, gathering more of his weight to support on her own, and said, "How should we hide from Solomon?"

"We need to swim across the river and get into the woods beyond. From there we can find a car."

"Your car?" she asked as they shuffled toward the water.

"No. We can't let them know that we've escaped. We'll hide out until we can find an appropriate vehicle to commandeer."

"Steal, you mean," Robin said with a slight smirk.

Amon raised a brow. "Commandeer. Now, let's get moving."

Amon forced the fear of capture back into his heart as they made their way into the river, hoping that the adrenaline would once more spike so that he could push through the pain. But the going was tough as they'd decided to leave on all their clothing and coats- there was no sense in trying to run away undetected if they left a path of clues for Solomon to find. Still, halfway through the water, Robin and her clean strokes in front of him, his good arm began to weaken, his good leg barely compensating for the mangled state of the other.

So he started the chant again. 'Robin. Robin. Robin. Stroke. Stroke. Robin. Robin.' And then they were at the shore on the other side.

Amon tried to stand up on the sliding sand, but found himself barely able stay upright. Then a firm arm wrapped around his waist, helping him to pull himself up the bank. He looked at Robin, giving her a slight nod of thanks. By the time they reached the road, Robin was practically dragging him along, his one leg now completely useless, except to help give a little push so the other could do all the work. Stealth was an impossibility and Amon was quickly realizing that he'd have to give Robin a verbal driving lesson if they were ever going to make it out.

But since there were no cars at their position, he didn't have to worry about that yet.

"Fuck," he said softly, ignoring Robin's wide eyed expression at this curse. "We're going to have to go on foot…"

"No." Amon blinked at looked down at Robin who was wearing a face more stubborn than he'd ever seen.

"Excuse me?" he asked, trying to allow some of his usual hauteur to enter his tone.

"Amon," she said slowly, as if speaking to a child. He tried to stand a little straighter in protest. "You are in no condition to be walking anywhere. And," she said, as he tried to interrupt, "how are you going to keep me safe if you collapse in the middle of the road for all of Solomon to see?"

She had a point, as much as he hated to admit it. If they stopped now, thought, he wasn't sure if he was ever going to be able to get back up again. His vision swam and he tried to shake his head to clear it, almost falling over and taking Robin with him.

"Amon," she said urgently. "We need to sit you down."

"Away from the road," he mumbled and barely registered it as Robin led him into the woods, through a copse and onto a bed of leaves.

He faintly heard her soft murmurs as she inspected his injuries, though he'd been through enough to know it wasn't good. Now that the adrenaline was fading, his body enduring the resultant shakes, he could feel every injury tenfold. His leg was probably broken, his shoulder dislocated, and the arm that came from it, most likely, shattered. He'd been knocked on the head at some point of their journey and that was throbbing painfully. His ribs had taken some abuse. But he knew that the worst of it all was the lacerations he'd sustained when he'd taken the brunt of collapsing wall. He felt the blood streaming from his body like the grasp he had on the waking world…fading…disappearing…

"Amon!" Someone was yelling in his ear. But who? Oh, Robin. But why? He wanted to sleep so very much…and she was shaking him. Had they fallen asleep together? He felt her body pressed up against his own and tried to raise his hands to trace her gentle curves, but they didn't seem to want to move. So instead he tried to focus on her words…soft…demanding…but they flittered in and out…

"Amon…stay with me…please…to stay alive…need you…I lo…"

But the warmth of darkness was too strong…and he faded.


tbc...