Back before Britannia had driven England into the ground before the empire had decided the little cluster of islands wasn't worth its time, Harlesden had been the ugliest suburb of London. It had been a place where cracks in the night didn't mean a car backfiring, even if you couldn't keep yourself from hoping it was. Aurora Sterling hadn't lived here long – just long enough to learn the rhythm, and how to survive in it. She was returning from London proper with medical supplies, her old navy blue Jeep loaded with antibiotics and sterile syringes and gauze.
Her lean gray dog, Bannock, sat on the front seat a little precariously, his black snout tipped to the wind rushing by. He preferred the back, but Aurora didn't want him rooting through the supplies, which were literally worth their weight in gold. He looked over at her, and let out a plaintive whine.
"I know, I know. Hush, you big baby. We'll be home soon," she soothed. Just as she turned to head north, the dim pops of gunfire echoed from the west. Ban's ears, normally laid back against his neck, popped straight up, huge cups that had initially won Aurora's heart when the puppy had come begging to her door. "Shit," Aurora muttered under her breath as she jerked the wheel. Harlesden – most of the ghetto, in fact – subsisted on as little violence as possible. And the Empire's forces was far from welcome. What the hell was going on?
She stomped on the brakes when a military unit raced in front of her on foot, the men dressed in combat gear, and the rifles in their hands big enough to look unreal. They hardly spared her a glance, their chins lifted as their eyes were trained upwards. Frowning in confusion, she followed their gaze, and felt her jaw drop when the unmistakable figure of Zero leapt from one rooftop to another. What was he doing here? And why were Britannian soldiers chasing him?
Making a split decision that had always made her half-brother roll his eyes, she slapped the Jeep into reverse, swerving down a side street that paralleled Zero's route. It looked like he was heading for the Bones – so named for the three apartment buildings that had been reduced to metal sticks and ash. The Bones were also known for the pond that had gathered in the center of the ring of barely standing buildings. The explosion that had destroyed the block had broken the sewer lines – storm water, luckily. It had the feel of the gathering of blood in a bruise—the same sadness and pain.
Trying to keep her distance while holding Zero's thin figure in her sight, Aurora veered through the rubble and abandoned buildings. She was no stranger to gunfire, but the cracks still sent shivers down her spine. Finally, her superior speed and knowledge of the ghetto allowed Aurora to get ahead of Zero and his pursuers, and she slid into a patch of shade well in the depths of the wasted structures. Bringing the Jeep to a stop, she twisted in her seat to get another scope of the situation from where she was parked behind several large chunks of metal, flesh that had been bitten off the building with ravenous teeth. It took a moment to catch Zero's slim, black silhouette in the afternoon sun. She unconsciously sucked in a breath when Zero tripped, or jumped, down to the next level, smiling a bit when he leapt back up like a panther. For some reason, he was struggling to stay on the rooftops, already clambering back up another level.
She blinked at the single shot, but slammed out of the Jeep as Zero stumbled to a stop, commanding over her shoulder in a low, no-nonsense tone for Bannock to stay. The hound wagged his tail hopefully before lying down on the front seats with a sigh, his nose buried in his paws as his eyes watched his mistress lope away. When Zero went limp and started to fall through the building's weak innards, Aurora clenched her jaw, scrambling down through the rubble, remnants of the deadly playtime of those who fancied themselves gods. He was either dead or unconscious. Either way, he would sink like a rock when he hit the deep lake of water pooled in the crater left from the blow that had destroyed most of the building.
Just as she reached the edge of the murky water, Zero slammed into the pool, water geysering up like a fountain at his impact. Without a heartbeat of hesitation, she dove into the freezing water. Stroking strongly down after the glimmer of his mask, Aurora tried to fight against the burn in her eyes as she desperately chased Zero's descent, urged faster by his dead weight and the unlikelihood of much air in his lungs. She had originally intended to grab body mass—hooking her hands under his arms or wrapping her arms around his waist—but seconds were ticking away. Aurora's lungs were starting to burn, and Zero was falling faster and faster into the depths of the water. Compromising, she buried a hand in his trailing cloak, praying that it didn't rip or snap under his weight.
The rise back to the surface was much harder, draining Aurora's strength as she fought against gravity, dragging a dead weight to the surface that physics would be all too happy to sink to the bottom. She could see the black ink of his blood in the water, and feel the creeping give of his cloak. Just when she broke the surface with a desperate heave of her lungs, the cloak ripped. Sucking in air frantically, she dove back down before he could fall any further, hooking one arm around his chest before kicking again for the surface. Frantic bubbles broke free, popping around the length of black, blood-soaked silk that floated eerily on the surface. Her breath exploded as she broke through the water, oxygen tumbling down her throat into her starved lungs. Panting without reserve, she adjusted her grip on Zero, trying to keep his head above water as best as she could. The blood staining the water made her stomach tighten.
Aurora had been treading water, trying to get her breath back, for only a moment, when the voices of the military echoed from the streets. She had maybe another thirty seconds before they picked their way through the rubble. They wanted Zero dead; she wasn't entirely amenable to that decision, especially considering she had almost drowned dragging his sorry hide to the surface. Her opinion of Empire operations was historically not a kind one. Whipping her head around, frantically looking for a hiding place, she knew she was too far away from the edge to get them out of the pool of water in time. Not to mention, they'd leave a trail of water whichever way they went. Then, Aurora noticed a sort of overhang crafted from several slabs of concrete that draped down to the water's surface. Hurriedly striking out in a scissor stroke, she had barely begun her dive when the first members of the tactical team came within sight of the pond.
It was a gamble – if she was wrong about how to get into the protected overhang, they would drown or be shot. She wasn't quite sure which one she preferred. As Aurora pushed through the water, the light dimming as she went deeper, creeping thoughts of Zero's stillness and continued blood loss tried to bubble to the forefront. With a disciplined effort, she pushed them back, focusing on swimming when the light all but disintegrated as she slipped under the jut of man-made stone. The cold was leeching the strength from her muscles, her limbs jerking with shivers as she lost feeling in her fingers and feet.
Moving for the surface and tiny glimmer of light with everything she had, she fought to breathe quietly but deeply once she surfaced into a tiny air pocket that reminded her of a goblin's cave. Her legs already aching from the effort, she slowly stroked closer to a hole in the concrete where she could barely make out the shoreline where the military personnel stood. Towing Zero after her, fruitlessly readjusting her grip to lessen the burn in her arms, Aurora struggled to hear the soldiers talking over the ramming drumbeat of her heart.
One of them pointed to the length of silk lapping against the far shoreline, and Aurora prayed hard and fast that Ban would stay in the car, and stay quiet. They fished the cloak out of the water while several men perused the concrete around the rim, one soldier walking directly over Aurora and her wounded passenger. Holding her breath with an effort against her rampant shivering, she watched the men finally gather back with the group, shrugging their shoulders and shaking their heads. Finally one man shoved back his black sunglasses, producing a radio from his vest and speaking into it around the crackle and squeal of static. After listening for a moment, he nodded again, and with a swing of his arm, called for his men to follow as they picked their way free of the rubble.
Aurora counted to thirty before heaving a breath into her hitching lungs and diving back down into the water. It was slow, horrible going, and every few moments, her instincts would flash red warnings in her brain – not enough air! Struggling against herself, she fought against the urge to drag in a breath until her hand broke through the surface of the water. Clapping her hand over her mouth, she watched the cluster of rubble as she gasped, stroking for the edge once she heard the dim roar of a motor as the unit drove away.
She managed to flop herself and Zero onto a submerged ledge, dragging him out of the water before collapsing down to kneel next to him. Aurora frowned as she felt the edges of the mask, keeping her eyes purposefully averted from the huge wound seeping blood in his left shoulder. She would deal with that when the time came. Meanwhile, she couldn't seem to find a catch, and if she didn't get the damn thing off his head, all her work would have been for nothing. Finally abandoning the back of the mask, her fingers trailed against the edges of the glass of the face plate. Rather accidentally, her left index finger found a shallow depression where his right ear would be. Pressing it gently, the mask's back withdrew upward, leaving it free to pull off as trapped water splashed out. Lifting it quickly, Aurora tossed it away before yanking down the black fabric that covered the lower half of his face. Well, damn. Who would have thought Zero was so bloody good-looking?
Recovering herself quickly, Aurora checked Zero's pulse and lowered her ear to his mouth. Damn. No pulse, and he wasn't breathing. Just her luck. After tilting his head back and pressing her lips to his sculpted, cold ones, blowing oxygen into his lungs, she quickly settled her threaded hands on his sternum, blood creeping back into her stiff limbs as she began the hard work of keeping someone from death's door. Thirty quick pounds on his chest, then again give his blood something to circulate. Repeat until he started breathing.
She didn't count how many rounds it took—Aurora became lost in the motion, in the repetition. Finally, Zero's heart and lungs took, oxygen rushing in like floodwaters when his lungs broke their protective seal. His chest convulsed, his whole body tightening upwards like a bow as his eyes blindly flashed open. Aurora pushed him over as he vomited the nasty sewer drain water that had made it into his system, coughing and sputtering all throughout.
"That's it. Deep breaths now. Easy, big guy, it'll be alright," Aurora murmured in a soothing voice one usually used with the young or the ill as she ran a gentle hand up and down his back, trying to comfort him as his body came shockingly back to life. He was still cold as a block of ice under his clothes, too chilled to yet begin shivering.
Zero rolled onto his back eventually, his glittering green eyes glazed under half closed, heavily lashed lids as his breath stuttered in and out, still unsteady and jagged. His skin had a blue sheen to it, and when Aurora subtly pressed her fingers to the inside of his wrist, his pulse was jerky and his skin freakishly icy.
"Did I…die?" he gasped, his chest rising and falling swiftly as his system skittered like a spooked horse. Hope strangely rang in his tone.
"Maybe for a while, but not while I'm around," she said with a soft smile, but was shocked when his eyes narrowed, his mouth twisting into a cruel snarl. Aurora was concerned about his reaction, but the red ring around his jade irises alarmed her even more. It had nothing to do with enlargement of the capillaries in his eyes and everything to do with the clothes and mask he wore.
"You should have just let me die," he rasped, trying to push himself up.
"Whoa, you must be joking," Aurora said quickly as she caught his shoulder. She didn't want to muscle him back down, not with the bruising or breaking his ribs probably incurred through the process of keeping him alive, not to mention his other injuries. So she held him until the pain was too great and he had to relax back. His words rocked her, straight to the core. She knew pain, and she knew what it was to question your ability to survive what you had no choice but to live on. But a blatant death wish was something entirely different.
Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Aurora saw the light die from his eyes, and it had nothing to do with losing consciousness. It had everything to do with something he had already lost. He raised one gloved hand, pressing his fingers to his eyes. Aurora took the opportunity to reach for his left arm to inspect his wounds, her fingers barely brushing the fabric of his sleeve when her wrist was suddenly locked in a stunningly strong grip.
Checking the urge to tug or defend, Aurora reached out with a gentle hand, brushing back the wet, wavy chestnut hair that was falling into his eyes. "It's OK," she murmured, again using the soft voice of a caretaker. "I'm sorry. Just let it go." She could sense his muscles slowly starting to relax, could see his vision starting to cloud as he reluctantly welcomed unconsciousness. "Let it go, Suzaku." His pretty eyes, now without their eerie ring of red, rolled back as he succumbed to the dark, his whole body going limp. His long fingers loosed their grip, slowly sliding along her skin until her wrist was freed. Certain that he was fully out, Aurora moved quickly, slinging his right arm over her shoulder as she wrapped an arm around his lean waist. It wasn't easy, picking his dead weight up, about as easy as it had been to drag him through water, especially with her muscles still rubbery.
"Of course you have to be built like a machine," Aurora muttered to the unconscious Suzaku as she struggled with his trim, muscled frame, her system weakened from the difficult swim in freezing water. Blood from his shoulder quickly soaked her left hand, leaving the hairs on the back of her neck raised. Oh yeah, she'd recognized the once infamous Knight of Zero. Everyone had thought him dead—his white Knightmare had exploded in a battle fending off those after Lelouch's life, hadn't it? Well, if she didn't move fast enough, the resurrected Knight that had taken the mask of his namesake would wind up dead.
She dragged him over to her jeep, freeing Ban from his command with a whistle and a jerk of her head. The dog leapt free of the car, sniffing the hem of Suzaku's pants and rooing once low in his throat. Aurora draped the unconscious man across the front seat, taking a second to get her breath back. Gathering herself, she quickly removed his gloves, overcoat, cravat, waistcoat, and blood-stained white linen shirt. The black body suit was easy enough to tear, even if the sound of rending fabric made shivers dance along her spine. Removing soaking wet, tightly fitted clothes from an unconscious man was hard enough—the fact that it was the complicated style of nobility would have made it impossible if Aurora wasn't already painfully familiar with that fashion of dress.
"Oh, boy," she whispered, the words trembling a little on her tongue at the sight of the wounds once she had finished undressing most of him. His toned, cold chest left bare, the insult of the injuries to his shoulder and arm seemed all the more violent against his pale skin. The bruising on his chest, both from her attempt to bring him back to life and the fall through the building, was already blooming dark, ugly colors.
Catching the tail of the overcoat between her teeth, she mercilessly ripped the fabric, tearing the garment in two. His waistcoat received the same treatment. She carefully lifted his left shoulder from back against the seat, bunching one length against the entry wound and half the waistcoat against his collarbone before winding the other half of the coat around his shoulder. Tucking it closed as best as she could manage, she wound the other half of the waistcoat around his shattered arm, saving the cravat for the mean slice on his calf.
Deeming it the best she could do under the circumstances, Aurora jogged back to the pool, kicking the mask into the water before tossing his gloves and shirt after them. The mask would make Zero's death appear more convincing, and was apparently a dangerous thing to be caught with. Kneeling at the edge of the pool, she washed the copious amount of blood from her hands. Despite scrubbing roughly, she was painfully aware there was nothing she could do about the crimson stains on the cuffs of her sleeves.
Standing and glancing around, she was satisfied that the investigators would find nothing but some puddles of blood that were easily explainable when they arrived to confirm their target's death. Zero had survived the fall, dragged himself out of the water, and died here. Scavengers took what was deemed valuable, and he had a beggar's funeral. A plausible enough story. Quickly making her way back to the vehicle, she dug an old gray blanket and a grungy, torn jacket from the back of the jeep, tucking the blanket around Suzaku before sliding the seat back and buckling the seat belt.
Snapping her fingers and calling his name as she pulled on the jacket, she ushered Ban onto the floor in front of Suzaku's seat. Urging the reluctant dog to lay down practically on the wounded man's lap, she hoped that the dog's body heat would help fend off the hypothermia before it got any worse. Running to the other side of the car once she closed the passenger door, she jumped in, starting the car and sending it rushing over the shattered landscape with familiarity and anxiety.
Finally making her way back to the main streets, she automatically started steering for Kendra's clinic. Aurora noticed that the sun was dropping, painting the sky in bloody colors. Letting her mind wander as they drew closer home, she couldn't help but question why this had all happened in the first place.
Zero had been one of the Empress's most trusted advisors, along with her half-brother Schneizel. So why were covert soldiers, bearing the accepted insignia of the Empire, attacking someone who knew where the Empress slept, when she woke, and how many threats had been made on her life since her coronation? It seemed stupid, or perhaps accidental.
Or desperate. So who was so desperate to get Zero out of the way that they manipulated Zero's death sentence to come from the Empress herself, the highest of commands and the only voice calling for the hero's death that would be heard? Aurora didn't think that Nunnally herself had willingly ordered Zero's death. She had seen the two together—sometimes, when she thought no one was watching, the Empress clutched Zero's hand almost to the point of making the bones of his hand grind. The grief in her eyes then would be so tangible, Aurora had to swallow back tears. Then, with a flash, she was normal, collected, and smiling gracefully. It didn't take Aurora's gift to see that she missed her brother to the point of her soul's implosion.
So why rid herself of the one person that she drew the most comfort from when her heart hurt the greatest? Nunnally hadn't ordered his death; someone was manipulating the Empress in a bid to be rid of her strongest protection.
And there was of course the question as to how, and why, Suzaku had become Zero. She had watched the television broadcast of Zero's public claim of responsibility for Clovis' death. He had faced Suzaku across the dawning of a revolution, watching as the then-prisoner was choked out of his words. So that begged the question who the real Zero was, and why Suzaku was wearing the garb of the Black Knight leader. And who was it that had killed Lelouch?
She glanced over at her still unconscious passenger, the fading light throwing his carved cheekbones into relief, the shadows under his eyes and in his cheeks making him appear haggard and broken. If for no other reason, Kururugi had better survive. He had a lot of questions to answer.
And so the changes continue. Aurora's a little more hardcore, and a little less forgiving and sentimental. Don't worry, that comes later. Bannock replaces Chaos for now, and I'm OK with that.
After NDK this weekend, I got revved from AMV music, and decided to finish this chapter off. With the simpler, deeper storyline, I should be able to get farther into this story than I did on BBGE.
I'm starting to get the feeling that I won't be able to even consider watching the rest of CG without finishing this – the intense injustice of Suzaku's fate seriously haunts me. Once I feel like that's been balanced, maybe I can handle it. This is the most bizarre relationship I've ever had with an anime.
Again, review, review! Keep in mind that I have about ten other projects I'm working on simultaneously.
Hope you like it!
Love, Tango