Disclaimer: Don't own it. Never have, never will, just borrowing the characters.
Chapter 08: I Close My Eyes And Tighten Up My Brain
He was trapped, terrified and there with another person's blood on his hands.
It wasn't supposed to be this way. He was supposed to be the one to protect everyone else. He was the eldest. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She wasn't the one who should have been the shield, running and laughing, and then slamming them both to ground, screams of pain that he could hear from every direction even as the fire and rubble rained down.
He'd tried to call out for help, screamed himself horse but only received a mouthful of dust for his troubles as he tried so damn hard to help her. He couldn't though, couldn't help, he didn't know what was wrong or how to fix it or why she wasn't crying. There was so much blood, blood and dust and tears and he didn't know which was his and which was hers but she was hurt so bad in the blast.
There was no room to move or to breathe, everything stale and suffocating, sharp metal and brickwork and he was cold, shaking while she stayed so still, so seemingly asleep, he couldn't see clearly enough to tell. She'd just passed out, right? Soon, Ma and Da, they'd come looking, right? And Lyle, he had to be safe, he'd know if he wasn't, right? Everything would be alright.
He shut his own eyes, scrunched them up tight and tried not to think, tried not to pay any attention to the images that flickered through his mind as his head spun. It was cold and he was tired, so tired, and the metal was creaking, crumbling, pushing down and he didn't have the strength to move it away.
There was no getting out, he was trapped, buried alive.
He'd tried to wake her but he couldn't speak, choking instead, aching all over.
He wanted to wake up now, wanted this all to be some dream, some stupid nightmare Lyle would tease him for and Amy would get confused over, that his mother would make better and his father would laugh about and tell him it would - could never - never happen.
He opened his eyes again and everything felt just that much closer, the broken walls pressing in, all cold and metal and he was going to go crazy. They'd just gone out to buy a new summer dress; Ma was getting so fed up of fixing Amy's current one.
All he could hear was his own erratic heartbeat.
And Lyle's hand grabbed his, and in that light he saw that his sister wasn't sleeping, her eyes staring back at him, glazed over and filled with pain: dead.
He wouldn't scream, wouldn't cry, wouldn't scream, wouldn't-
His eyes snapped open.
He wouldn't scream. He wouldn't cry. He'd just stare at the ceiling and try to regain control over his breathing and stop the shaking. He'd remember where he was and it wasn't in the ruins of a shopping centre five years ago. He was in space, in his room and a long way from home.
He hated nights like this, the darkness so complete, the ones where it closed in and he could still hear the shrieks of those who were still alive and in pain who'd been rescued already, and he could see Amy, a broken mess, and he was the only thing between her and his brother and he couldn't let Lyle see, he just couldn't, lashing out hard and fast with words he didn't mean but refused to take back and that look in Lyle's eyes, fear, hurt, hatred as he turned and ran away, never to come back and he'd done that, he'd-
"Shut up," he muttered into the darkness through clenched teeth. He wasn't fourteen and in Ireland, he was nineteen-going-on-twenty and in space, a world away. "Just shut up!"
Yet his voice was shaking nearly as much as his hands, fingers digging into the thin blanket that wasn't doing a very good job of keeping him warm right now. The irrational part of his mind wished he had one of his grandmother's old blankets, the thick, brightly coloured things he and Lyle had laughed at but wound up using anyway on cold, winter nights, wrapped up with Amy between them, listening to their grandfather's stories much to their parent's amusement. Their mother would pick Amy up, the young girl still half asleep, and he'd poke Lyle, who'd poke him back with more force and a mumbled comment no one else could hear much less understand, and they'd say their good nights and stumble to bed and the house would be warm and safe and didn't have dead eyes staring out of the darkness or pain or blood or-
"Shut up!"
Something in the darkness clicked and whirred, and then two red lights blinked into existence, "Lockon okay? Lockon okay?"
He could have laughed, did in fact, just as shakily as he raked a hand through his hair. He'd woken Haro up with his yelling, and not for the first time he wondered if the little robot wasn't a lot more sentient than people gave it – him – credit for.
Then again the same could have been said for the little girl who had loaned him her friend, such a strange child, her eyes serious, even wise as she told him to take care of Haro and Haro would take of him because he looked like he needed a friend. Then she'd said good night and walked away.
"I'm fine," he replied quietly, reaching out to pat the small robot, the smooth metal real and cool under his fingers. "It was just a bad dream."
Haro twitched back and forth, flapping his ears, seemingly unconvinced by the words, still concerned, or maybe just confused. Did robots dream?
He didn't know what time it was, but it was probably some stupid hour of the morning at which no sane person should be awake, which probably explained why he was since he was far from sane right now. It didn't matter though; he wasn't getting back to sleep any time soon. It was too dark and too closed in, the memory too fresh and clear and he didn't want to shut his eyes again, knowing what he'd see if he did. It was only Haro's presence, the poor, confused little robot, and the prospect of anyone knocking at the door asking what was wrong that was keeping him from slipping back into that strange state of complete blind panic like he had back in the cockpit.
He thought about turning the light on, but decided against it; for some reason it was almost better only having Haro's eyes blinking in the darkness, a reminder that someone was there, someone who wasn't dead. Still, he dropped his hand to the table, reaching for his gloves, the leather comfortable, warm and familiar as he pulled them on and slipped out from under the cover.
"Going out?" Haro asked, his curious gaze following Neil as he crossed the room silently, picking up his jacket from where he'd discarded it in a heap when he got in. "Going out?"
"Just goin' to get a drink," he replied, trying to sound confident, patting the robot once more. "I'll be back soon, so go back to sleep."
It was a strange thing to say to a robot, but it seemed important to reassure him; Haro was something of a friend to him too having spoken to the little robot every time he'd spoken to Feldt.
Offering one last smile he opened the door and stepped out into the chilly, brightly lit hallway, stopping and blinking a time or two against the light, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the change. It was a breath of fresh air; glaringly bright and spacious, completely devoid of all other life at this time of night, but still normal, other doors at periodic intervals in both directions. He wondered if boarding school had been anything like this for Lyle, minus, of course, the being in space part.
He stood there for a moment, a fleeting thought crossing his mind of just sleeping in the hallway like they'd sometimes done as children, a heap of blankets that their father had tripped over more than once, berating them even as their mother stood in the doorway laughing at him. However, just like then, such an idea wasn't particularly sensible, nor was it really very sane under the circumstances, so he discarded the it and began walking the familiar path towards the canteen.
It was peculiar to see the halls of the usually bustling Krung Thep so empty and quiet. He'd grown so used to keeping normal hours that he'd forgotten how different it felt so late at night, sharper and more precise, clean, crisp metal and whitewashed walls. In many ways it simply felt less human, but then, that was the appeal of it.
He hadn't honestly expected to be the only person awake, there was always work that needed doing in a place like this, and people foolish enough to stay up all night to get it done, so he'd expected to see one or two people in the canteen on a break, half dead and in search of caffeine. What he hadn't expected, however, was to find a young boy, dressed all in black, staring into a polystyrene cup as it held the answers to the universe. He looked lost.
Even before he'd consciously made a decision he'd grabbed two cups of coffee and crossed the room, placing one cup in front of the boy, "Looked like you needed a refill."
The boy jumped, looking up at him and stuttering an apology which Neil waved off, taking a seat opposite him and offering a friendly, easy smile, like the one he'd given Haro, trying to be confident and reassuring to put others at ease. It was a damn sight easier to deal with other people's problems than to deal with his own.
"Are you alright?" Neil asked, keeping his tone light. "It is, what…" he glanced up at the clock on the wall, permanently set to Greenwich Mean Time, and a voice in his head laughed, "three in the morning in London."
The boy – he really had to find out the kid's name, couldn't keep just thinking of him as 'boy' – smiled, quietly and shyly, reminding him a lot of Feldt, "I just couldn't sleep."
"That makes two of us then," he paused, eyeing the drinks he'd brought over, and then added, "Though perhaps in that case hot chocolate would've been a better choice than coffee."
That comment actually got him a small laugh as he smiled and studied the boy over the rim of his cup. He couldn't have been much older than thirteen or fourteen, older than Feldt by far but still far too young to be looking for answers at three in the morning in the bottom of a drink, even if it wasn't alcoholic. His dark hair was scruffy, falling over one eye, and, from what little he could see when boy moved his head, his eyes were different colours. Maybe it was just a trick of the light, but he noted it and filed it away in the back of his mind.
He held out a hand, "I'm Lockon Stratos by the way, pilot in training."
He was getting used to the new name, purposefully missing out what he was in training to pilot. Partly because he wasn't even sure any more if he'd be allowed; he hadn't had the time to actually sit down and talk to Ian about it.
"Allelujah," the boy replied, shaking his hand. He had a strong grip for someone so young and Neil was growing ever surer there was a story behind it, and not necessarily one he'd like. "Allelujah Haptism."
"Interesting name you have there."
"You too."
For a moment there was something a little different about the boy, the light catching his hidden eye and his grip tightened.
Neil just smiled, "Thanks."
Then it was gone, letting go and picking up his coffee again.
This place really was beyond strange sometimes, but he'd learnt to accept it, "So, why couldn't you sleep, Allelujah?"
Shaking his head the boy replied, "Just bad dreams."
"Ah," It was easy to read between the lines, the shake of the head saying 'I can't tell you', and Neil's smile became more sympathetic. "I know how that goes, it's not fun."
"Thank you."
"It's okay though," he lied. "It gets better over time."
"Really?" Allelujah sounded honestly hopefully, curious, pausing with the coffee half way to his lips, a childlike innocence in his visible, grey eye, unwavering as he waited for an answer.
"Yes, it does. The dreams fade with time and it does get better, there's hope, so," he grinned, "there'll be no more need for coffee and the company of strangers as stupid times of the morning."
Allelujah smiled back, "We're not strangers anymore though; we know each other's names."
The idea was almost a foreign one given that here everyone was a stranger really, there were no real names, just codes and invisible histories, nothing could exactly be said to be true. He didn't even know if Feldt's name was a code or if her parent's just had a strange sense of humour. Yet this young boy was reaching out, trying to find something to hold onto, and there was something all too familiar about the look in his eyes. Lyle had looked the same when Neil had screamed at him that day, surrounded by rubble and the dead. Allelujah looked scared and alone.
"I supposed we do."
His coffee cup was empty and the few other people that had been in the room had moved on, really it was getting close to the point where there wouldn't be any point going back to bed even if he couldn't sleep, and here…
"Say, if you're staying here and haven't crashed somewhere, do you want to meet for lunch?"
The boy's face lit up and he looked suddenly much younger, dropping a little of the darkness that had haunted his eyes, the remnants of whatever nightmare had brought him to the canteen in the first place. It brought a real smile to Neil's own face, this was something he knew how to do, playing big brother and making sure someone was alright, safe and happy.
"Yes, I think I'd like that, should I meet you here?"
"Probably best, I've work which needs doing in the morning otherwise I'd have suggested breakfast." In all honesty he would have preferred breakfast with Allelujah than the training session and lessons which were actually awaiting his attention, not to mention waiting for a decision on his antics earlier. Yes, right now breakfast with a friendly face sounded a lot better than any of those options.
"That's okay, I understand how it is." The boy stood up, picking up his two empty cups. "And, thank you."
Neil waved off the gratitude, "No worries, just try to get some sleep, and don't forget about breakfast – it's still the most important meal of the day!"
For a moment he talking to Lyle, reprimanding his twin on behalf of their mother, trying to convince him that he did need to get up and eat something before they left for school.
Of course, Lyle had always just throw a pillow at him and told him in no uncertain terms to go away.
"I shall," Allelujah replied, waving and walking away. "See you later."
He watched the young boy leave, depositing the cups in the rubbish and disappearing out of the doors. He was getting used to seeing younger people around the base, those like Feldt who had grown up here, but this kid seemed different. He was more…skittish was perhaps the best word, like he was trying just a little too hard to be normal.
The polystyrene cup was crumpled and dropped in the rubbish, one last look at the time telling him he'd been here too long and tried to think of the right words to apologise to Haro.
Really he didn't have the time for thinking anymore, flipping the light on as he stepped back into his room.
"Lockon is late," the small voice chirped, almost accusingly from the table. "Lockon is late."
"Sorry," he smiled, patting the robot and grabbing his clothes for the day, figuring he might as well go straight to the training room. At least he'd be early for once; Tieria couldn't fault him for that. Though he had to admit he wouldn't have been surprised if the guy was already there, waiting. "I got talking someone, you'll meet him soon; we're getting together for lunch."
"A new friend? A new friend?"
He paused, fixing Haro with a curious look of his own, "Yeah, maybe."
Then he dropped his jacket over the robot because it just didn't feel right getting changed with him watching.
He was running late when the call came having stopped by to drop Haro off with Ian between the end of a brutal training session with Tieria and the beginning of his first morning class. It wasn't completely unexpected, but the fact that he'd been called to see Hixar and not Grave was a little odd. He guessed the older man was just busy or didn't want to see him and so had enlisted the blond to do his work for him, giving out whatever orders needed issuing.
The differences between the two had only grown more obvious over the months since his arrival, Hixar maintaining a permanently relaxed disposition while Grave was all business, though Neil suspected some of the retorts directed at his comrade were nothing but jest. They reminded him of siblings, Hixar seeking attention from his older brother in any way possible.
The analogy made a lot of sense as he had waited to be admitted to Hixar's 'office', a room borrowed for the day from some unsuspecting and absent co-worker. It also kept him from thinking too much about what the meeting could be about.
"How's it going?" the blond greeted him, gesturing for him to take a seat, "Everything okay?"
"Everything is well," Neil replied with a smile, choosing to mention neither the incident with Dynames which the other man would probably already know of or meeting Allelujah which didn't really seem important in the grand scheme of things, so there was no need for Neil to tell him about either event.
"That's good to hear."
"So, what did you need to see me for?"
Hixar gave an overdramatic sigh, leaning back in his borrowed chair, "Everyone's always straight to point these days, straight down to business, why doesn't anyone have time for small talk anymore?"
"I would, but Grave runs a tight schedule. I don't even have time for a game of cards anymore, let alone a friendly midmorning chat."
"Poker?" he asked with a rather more hopeful note to his voice.
"No, snap," Neil replied, amused as he watched the confusion cross his superior's face before he explained himself. "I told Feldt I'd play a hand or two with her when I had the chance, and that was a fortnight ago. Bit hard to play while eating."
"Ah, well, I'm afraid you'll have to delay that game even longer – you're being sent down to the surface."
His first thought was that he was being kicked out, but Hixar had only said the game should be delayed, not cancelled. His second thought, therefore, was of the phone sitting back in his room and the voicemail message it still contained, "Where?"
"America."
"Oh?" he hoped he didn't sound too disappointed.
"A little place just outside one of the Union bases; you'll be meeting one of our new acquaintances there."
Pushing aside the fact he wouldn't be going home he focused on the matter at hand, this was business after all, "Who?"
"An interesting character with a lot of money and power, we need to find out exactly what she wants." Hixar pulled out a data stick from his pocket, handing it over, "Everything you need to know is on there, read it carefully and don't leave it anywhere."
It sounded like he was speaking from experience, "I'll remember that."
"You'd better," he grinned, making a show of looking at the time.
"When do I leave?" Neil asked, taking the not-so-subtle hint, more than slightly worried what the answer would be given the other man's smile.
"Your shuttle leaves in half an hour; don't be late."
Neil swore, and then he remembered his agreement to meet Allelujah and the fact that Feldt and Haro too would be expecting him.
"There's a new kid around, Allelujah," he said hurriedly, knowing he wouldn't have time to find and tell anyone else. "I said I'd meet him for lunch, can you tell him I'm sorry but something came up and I'll make it up to him when I get back?"
"Sure thing," Hixar was laughing, "Now, don't you have somewhere to be?"
"I will get you back for this, I swear," Neil added before running from the room, Hixar's laughter following him all the way down the hall.
