A/N: Jay Naylor, I am not. Yoda impersonator, I am! No money do I make!
Original Days 2
Chapter 10: Innocence Requiem
Previously, in Original Days 2…
Suddenly the baby Bat let out a harsh cough, and tiny flecks of red appeared on the blanket. Jason's hands clenched into fists at the sight, and not for the first time he cursed the world, and the cruelty in it.
"It-it's not fair. He…he wasn't even born when it happened!"
…and now, the present.
The tall figure let a soft sigh escape past his lips as he eased down onto the "so comfortable it should be outlawed" couch. Grabbing the remote control beside him, he turned on the 40' TV in front of him and began to leisurely flip through the channels. A smile spread across his face as he came upon a day-long Dexter's Laboratory marathon, popping open a can of Root Beer and settling in. He let his mind wander, thinking of all the things he has to be grateful for: his health, two loving kids, a fulfilling career, and more money than he could ever know what to do with. Yes, the giant of a person thought as he chuckled at Dee Dee's antics, life was good.
Almost good enough, in fact, to make Mr. White forget about his lost love. Forget that he would never again see her beautiful face smile at him lovingly, or feel her soft hands ease the ache in his overworked back, or hear her quiet voice calling out his name as they made love. Mr. White's flesh hand curled into a fist, and not for the first time he cursed the world, and the cruelty in it.
A mechanized door behind and to the left of White slid open; White flinched as the air seemed to get thicker, as with slow, measured steps something dark strode over. The cyborg Cougar closed his eyes and steadied his breathing as a robotic claw smoothed out the wrinkles in the sleeve covering his mechanical arm. The claw then moved up and traced over the Cougar's face, stopping momentarily at the artificial skin used to replace that which degraded while he had been dead.
"You look well, Father. I am sorry that I could not be there when you were resurrected, but the plan required me to be elsewhere."
White sighed softly as the high-pitched mechanical voice of his son echoed through the large meeting-room. "Do not concern yourself with apologies, Deva, it was unavoidable. On a related subject however, I have several thoughts. I have finished reviewing the plan, and find it praiseworthy. A better one I could not create myself." The darkness beside White bowed its head slightly in acceptance, and so he continued. "I do, however, have some concerns over your sister, Asura. Reviewing the security tapes from the interrogations, I find her to be rather…unstable. Is she reliable?"
Deva took a moment to consider the question, dagger-like fingers tapping against his side.
"She is emotional, and her understanding of the true reality requires much refining; however, I find her unique talent in upsetting and unbalancing enemies to more than make up for these inadequacies."
"I see." White stood up from the couch and wandered to their right, past the obsidian business desk, to gaze out the floor-to-ceiling window. The darkened, rain-filled New York City skyline glared back at him, the brightly-lit windows of the skyscrapers like hundreds and thousands of accusing eyes. A moment later Deva joined him in his silent surveying; and together as father and son they looked out over the "Capital of the World."
After several minutes Deva turned to face his father and bowed. "Forgive me, but I must go. I am late for to a meeting." White absentmindedly waved him away, and so Deva left, slipping on a pair of synthskin gloves. White continued to stare out the window, a pleased smile adorning his face. Everything was going according to plan.
Ana hurriedly ducked under a butterfly kick, before squatting down and trying to sweep kick her opponent's legs out from under them. The assailant jumped over the kick, spun in mid-air, and landed behind the startled Dog, before delivering a palm thrust into the small of her back. She stumbled forward, before turning and trying to hit with a roundhouse kick. Her opponent blocked the kick with the palm of his gloved hand, before tightening into a vice-like grip and pulling. She cried out in surprise and stumbled forward, straight into a gloved fist.
"Your movements are too textbook, too predictable Ana." Jason through her back into the center of the sparring ring, waiting for her to shakily get back to her feet before continuing with his lecture. "You need to get into the fight, flow with it! Now defend yourself!" With no more warning he began a complex series of attacks, quickly forcing the poor girl into a panicked defensive.
Fisk and Angela watched from the viewing bleachers as Jason "trained" his apprentice in the ancient art of "getting your ass handed to you." The day after they had arrived at the monolithic skyscraper, Akira had shown them to the training area used by his private security forces, saying that as long as they were there they were pretty much his private security anyway. Every day since then, for three hours Jason would spar against Ana, determined to make sure she could handle herself than she did in Hong Kong.
Sometimes Akira himself would come by and spar with Jason, to relax from a hard day's work. It was here that Fisk found out another surprising fact about his cousin: he could swordfight like he'd been doing it his entire life. When asked about this Jason merely responded that he'd spent some time in Japan after leaving the military, and thought it looked cool.
"That's classic Jason for you," Fisk thought as a particularly vicious elbow connected to Ana's chest. "He'll see an ancient and revered way of fighting and reduce it to looking cool." He flinched at the gasp of pain the younger agent let out, and refocused on the two combatants. Ana was dressed in khaki shorts and a yellow sleeveless crop top, looser than most to allow for easier breathing. She was currently bent forward, hands on her knees, panting raggedly like every breath was her last.
On the opposite side of the sparring arena, Jason wore a dark-red muscle shirt and black Keikogi pants. Black leather gloves covered his ripped and scalded hands; these were held up level with his head, in what Fisk thought vaguely resembled a boxer's stance. His breathing was deep but steady, like a bellows fueling a fire. The muscular Cat smiled and nodded in approval as Ana tiredly got back into a fighting stance, before once more going on the offensive.
"It's certainly something to watch, isn't it?"
Fisk turned his gaze from the spar to look at Angela, who seemed busy trying to not look like she was ogling Jason. Sighing, Fisk waved a hand in front of the albino to get her attention. "What's certainly something to watch, Lovergirl?" She blushed and bowed her head in embarrassment, not quite able to look the faintly grinning Cat in the eyes. "Jason fighting, Fisk. Sometimes, it seems like he's born for it."
Fisk turned his eyes back to the aforementioned agent, who was currently chasing Ana around the room, yelling something along the lines of "I am the secret agent who says NI!" He quirked an eyebrow and sighed. "I suppose. Right now I'm just glad he seems back to normal…well, as normal as he usually is." Chuckling, Angela looked back towards the chase as well. "Yeah…after we found him in the restrooms the other day I-" The training room doors opened, and Akira walked in, slightly out of breath.
"Hey guys, sorry I'm late. The meeting went on longer than I anticipated." Jason immediately stopped chasing the poor Dog and ran over to the new arrival. Gasping for breath, Ana folded over, barely supporting her upper-body with her hands on her knees. Angela sighed in annoyance and went over to help her to the benches, as Fisk stayed and watched the two younger males converse with each other.
Jason reached the shorter Cat and clapped him on the shoulder. "Hey, don't worry 'bout it Clear. Ana needed a workout anyway." Akira nodded and smiled softly at his older friend, before casting his gaze about the large room and flinching. The training mats were scattered about and crumpled, many weights of different sizes were laid about randomly, and half a dozen empty water bottles littered the floor; overall, it looked like a Jason had been through. "Maybe the two of us should move our spar elsewhere. Come on, we can do it in my private training area."
"Sure, just let me get something real quick." Jason ran over to the bleachers and grabbed his towel, before running back over to the waiting Asian. Slinging an arm around Akira's slim shoulders, he quickly waved back to the others, before his smirking form was hidden by the descending door. Angela looked from Fisk to the still-panting Ana, before also making her way to the door. "I need to go check up on the prisoner; it's about time for her bandages to be replaced." And then she too was gone, leaving just Ana and Fisk.
Ana sat down in exhaustion, leaning forward in a near-faint. Fisk walked over and handed the panting Dog a bottle of water, which she gratefully accepted. After several large gulps of the cool liquid she looked up at her superior with a concerned expression.
"Sir? Why is Jason always so…focused?"
Sitting down beside Ana, Fisk let out a soft sigh and looked her straight in the face. "I don't know if it's my place to be telling that story to anyone."
"But you do know" Ana posed, eager to find something out about one of her superiors. As a hacker of the highest order, not knowing something about anything was near-torture. "Oh, oh! Are Jason and Angela secret lovers? Is that it? Is he mentally and emotionally tortured by having her so close but at the same time so far away?" Groaning in annoyance, Fisk reached over and bonked her over the back of her head. "Don't be stupid, it doesn't work for you. Angela is far too sensible to do something like that."
Rubbing where she'd been hit, Ana pressed on. "Maybe, but is Jason? He seems about as far removed from sensible as a Jew in a Rib Crib." Fisk opened his mouth to argue this, but realized he really couldn't. "You're not going to give up on this ridiculous idea, are you?"
"Not until I hear a less-ridiculous idea!"
Closing his eyes, Fisk leaned back and rested against the higher steps and sighed, wondering why his companion had to fit the know-it-all hacker stereotype. He reopened his eyes and stared straight ahead, purposely avoiding Ana's expectant gaze. "I had just gotten back from a mission in Rome when I'd gotten the news. It was raining that day…"
Flashback
The waiting-room door slammed open, and Fisk nearly ran in, a panicked look in his eye. "Where is she!? He demanded of the room at large, startling its occupants. Church stood up from his seat beside a distraught Mr. Faunt, patting him once on the shoulder. Walking over, Church laid a gentle hand on Fisk's wet shoulder, drawing the Cat's attention. "Fisk, calm down. The birth was successful, Angela's out of danger and resting.
Fisk let out a loud sigh and collapsed into one of the many uncomfortable chairs, relief crashing through his rain-soaked body like waves on a beach. He closed his eyes and smiled; she was okay, his friend would be all right. He tiredly cracked an eye open and looked towards Mr. Faunt, and his smile instantly disappeared. The old Bat's face was crushed, ravaged by grief. He looked back at the nearby Wolf, only to see a similar expression. Suddenly what Church said fully dawned on him, and with a shaking voice he asked the question he feared the answer for. "Wait…what about the babies?"
Church looked away, and Faunt covered his face in sorrow, making Fisk's heart drop into his gut. "What the hell about the babies!?" Taking a steadying breath, Church looked back at Fisk. "Th-the doctor said that Angela was latently carrying the…Anthrax virus, from those attacks a while back. She's fine, but…but the babies…" He choked up, unable to finish; Faunt then took up the explanation. "They w-were born weak…and feeble. One is in Intensive Care right now; the other is…gone."
Fisk lowered his gaze, unable to continue looking Faunt in the eye. A new thought wormed its way into his mind, making him look to Church once more. "Where is Jason?"
Fisk warily opened the door into the ICU, letting in a thick beam of pale light into the darkened room. Quickly spotting his younger cousin standing before an observation window, he stepped in and shut the door, plunging the room back into shadow. He quietly walked over to the shorter Cat and joined him in his silent vigil of the room beyond the glass. Inside was a lone crib, surrounded on the left and right by various medical devices. In the crib, hooked up to all of the machines was a small, tan-furred baby Bat. Fisk couldn't hear it past the glass, but from the way the child's chest heaved up and down he was sure the machines were doing most of the work of breathing.
"Fisk, why did he have to die?" The addressed turned his head and gazed sadly at the speaker; Fisk's forest-green eyes locked with Jason's blood-red, as he worked over how best to explain why one of the twin babies died. "Listen Jason, sometimes…sometimes, bad things happen, and innocents die, and nothing can be don-" Jason spun around faster than Fisk could react and slammed a fist into his jaw, sending him stumbling to the ground.
"DON'T TELL ME NOTHING CAN BE DONE! It was a terrorist attack that caused Angela to have Anthrax to begin with, and WE'RE SUPPOSED TO STOP THEM! WE FAILED, AND TWO LIVES ARE RUINED AND A THIRD IS OVER BEFORE IT BEGAN!" Jason's voice shook from uncontrolled emotion, and as Fisk slowly got back to his feet he saw tears streaming down the tortured face.
Fisk spit out a glob of blood and looked at his cousin, a million thoughts racing through his mind. "You're right Jason; that is our duty, protecting our country and its people from all threats. And maybe there was something that could have been done, we'll never know. But don't take it out on your friends!" An image of Angela, and what she must be like at the moment passed through Fisk's mind, and he growled softly. "Other people are suffering because of this, not just you!"
Jason turned back to the observation window and continued in a quieter voice, unbridled fury and despair dripping from each word like a burning venom. "He was a child, a newborn, and he was dead before he could even experience life; he'll never talk, or learn to walk, or hug his mother, or learn to read, or go to school, have his first damn crush; none of it. And it's all because of terrorists, and their need to ruin everything. That's all they can do, isn't it Fisk? Taking lives, destroying things they can't create themselves…ruining things for other people."
The rage suddenly left Jason's ragged voice, and he looked at Fisk with eyes as calm as an underground lake. For a short moment Fisk thought Jason would be okay, until the next few words were spoken. "Terrorists must be wiped out, all of them; and all those who help them." Turning away, Jason strode to the door and out it, leaving Fisk alone in the shadowed room.
Flashback end
"The kind, joking Cat I trained was gone, consumed by his rage. Relentless, ruthless, pitiless towards all he considers as a threat to his precious people; that's Jason now."
Ana looked down, overwhelmed by the heartrending story. A small tear escaped from her and dropped down onto the uncomfortable seating, quickly followed by another. Fisk looked on in silence as the inexperienced agent struggled to keep herself together. After several moments Fisk placed a hand on her shoulder, gaining her attention. "Listen, don't tell anyone I told you any of this; especially Jason. Do you understand?" She looked back up and nodded, quickly steeling her expression; Fisk nodded in approval and stood up, offering her his hand. She gladly took it and struggled to her feet, slightly leaning against him for support. He chuckled and began to lead her away.
"Come on; let's get you to the showers before I pass out!" They both chuckled and left the room, gladly forgetting the dark pall of the past.
A/N: Hello faithful readers! I'm sure you were all wondering where dear old Mr. White was the last bunch of chapters, so here he is! And to reward your patience, I even through in the tragic event that has twisted Jason's soul so horrifically. A small warning; it's getting close to final around here, so the next chapter might be a bit late. Next time in Original Days 2:
Looking away from the food table, Jason spotted Angela standing beside one of the many entrances into the ballroom. Grabbing a second glass of champagne, he carefully began to make his way over. Sidling up to her right, he smirked his trademark smirk and handed the bored looking Bat a drink.
"Looks like you could use some liquid courage Angel."