Evangelion: Rebuild a Legend - Chapter 10
God's In His Heaven.
33 A.D., The Hill Golgotha, Jerusalem
The Roman soldier looked up at the wretched man nailed to the beams of wood in the form of a cross. He was beaten and bloody, but those two simplistic words failed to fully describe the miserable state that the criminal, the insurrectionist, had been reduced to.
Cuts and tears curved like strips along the surface of the skin, tapering away from their initial blunt openings to thin slices, as though a knife had grown ever thinner as it moved along, over, and around the arms, legs, and back of the still conscious sufferer. The wounds were packed with an iron-red mud formed from street dust and the whip's bloody leavings. The man had been half-walked, half-dragged through the city to this forsaken place outside its walls - all while crushed beneath the weight of the cross he carried.
Forced to carry the method of his own execution.
Crucifixion was one of the more inventive punishments that the humans had managed to come up with; it at once combined a terribly painful death - one of nerve-splitting pain, exhaustion, and eventual asphyxiation - with the incredible visible reminder that a similar fate awaited any who opposed the Romans and their rule.
Above the crucifix a wooden sign was hung, written in Latin: "Iēsus Nazarēnus, Rēx Iūdaeōrum."
That is to say: "Jesus the Nazarene, King of the Jews."
Its mockery belied the beatific smile upon the dying man's face. He had just said something to the other prisoners arrayed on either side of him, but the soldier hadn't managed to hear it.
The Roman soldier stepped closer, gently brushing his hand against the dirty and broken foot of the so-called messiah.
Instantly he was elsewhere, sharing, rather than the terrible and tragic scene, instead a beautiful green hill beneath a blue sky and light clouds. He could hear birds chirping in the distance.
He turned, being greeted from behind by his fellow firstborn: "Brother Kiel! To what do I owe the honor?"
"Greetings, Brother Michael. I came to see what exactly it was you were doing," he took a moment to bring an image of the real world outside to life, suspended in midair, "Martyrdom?"
The long-haired man chuckled softly. "Yes, yes, well. It's part of the next stage, you know. First we introduce Law, and, once they become ready, Mercy. The others are similarly performing such efforts amidst the other major human civilizations. We all have different methodologies, of course."
"How is this intended to further the Great Work?"
Again, the not-so-easy-to-kill firstborn laughed, "We will become fables, tales of morality - if you will, binding these groups and the generations to follow in common, well-regulated beliefs. They have already achieved many milestones in creating self-assembling societies. This is just the next step in our overall plan. We call this particular version the 'sacrificial son.'"
Kiel nodded, "I see. I have heard of your teachings amidst the humans. Very much the embodiment of Seraphimism. And after your 'death' you will perform another of your 'miracles', I suppose, aiding the myth in its growth?"
Michael nodded eagerly, "Yes, exactly so. What my body suffers externally I've simply disconnected from my nerve processing centers. I can no more feel their tortures than a rock feels the slap of a hand. Once they bury my body I will simply re-engage it's external processes and walk out of the tomb a few days later, appear to my followers, bid them heed my words and lessons, and then disappear. Some minor changes to my appearance will make it easy to keep an eye on things."
"Ah. Managing your own disciples from the shadows. Becoming one of your own followers?"
"Yes, you have the idea of it now, brother." He was smiling gaily.
"Still, this will help the Great Work, how, exactly?"
"These humans, they're already fairly good at following stringent laws, which creates stability. That same stability threatens to stifle them, however. Thus they need to be able to look for deeper meaning, deeper reasoning. Over time we theorize this will lead to a peaceful transition from the theocratic to the more rational style of self-governance. The Romans, for all their faults, very well might adopt such a new theism over their current pantheon. One day these peoples' descendants will grow to encompass this world. Their technologies will improve as they expand, and then we will be able to use their industries and inventions to rebuild the All-Mother and the Great Vessel."
He paused, assessing Kiel's reaction. "All in dutiful cooperation, of course. I know we disagree with each other, but our side reiterates that patience is the key."
Kiel hummed to himself, appreciating the audacity of the idea, if not the owner of it. Before he could say anything Michael put a hand on his shoulder: "And what of you all? The Nephilim? It has been some time since the last council - what of your own plans?"
"Despite our various disagreements my brethren have succeeded in motivating the humans under our supervision to achieve rapid technological progression. They have discovered things we couldn't have hoped to think of ourselves. Their recent insights into the mechanics of projectiles is particularly promising."
"And how was this done?"
"War, mostly," Kiel said nonchalantly, "Blood, fear, terror. The primality of it drives them to find new, more efficient ways to kill each other. With each passing year their progress yields advance after advance. Yesterday, rocks and slings, today, bronze and iron, swords and shields. Tomorrow? The stars themselves, I should imagine."
Michael's hand fell off Kiel's shoulder as he took a step back.
"I had heard," the firstborn looked at Kiel first hopefully and then with dawning helplessness, "I-I had heard, that one of our own brethren has perished."
It was more a question than a statement.
"Yes, it's true."
"Dear creator."
"Soon to be two, actually."
Michael's eyes widened.
Suddenly the mindscape vanished and the man on the cross was looking down through bloodied eyelids at the soldier below him. He watched in horror as the faux-Roman soldier drew a long, red object - a spear - from just beyond his view.
Terror ran through Michael, Lilith's firstborn, first among the Seraphim. He had never considered that one of his own brethren, despite being Nephilim and philosophically opposed to his peaceful ways, could commit such a crime.
To kill one of the firstborn - it was akin to attacking the All-Mother herself.
But here was the evidence that the Seraphim had all been fools to let the Nephilim so easily disassociate from the original Council of Twelve: an Interdictor. No doubt a primitive imitation of one of the originals within the Great Vessel, but still deadly to the immortal immobilized by the driven nails.
Summoning his reserves of inhuman strength he began to pull at the iron spikes embedded in palms, wrists, and feet, desperate to descend from the cross and escape his woeful fate.
It was too late.
The game he had been playing had been turned against him.
Kiel had lifted the spear's point and pierced Michael's heart, between his ribs, then withdrawn it just as quickly. The other soldiers were staring, and Kiel, his Roman centurion disguise in perfect order and his linguistic accent impeccable, simply quipped that he was just hurrying it along so they could get back to the city proper before sundown. Better to not waste the good governor's time, he reminded them.
Wails erupted from the mortal women attending the execution and Michael felt his power draining quickly. He couldn't form words, his lips parted loosely. From his wound the Seraphim equivalent of LCL, a clear liquid rather than the original orange, poured freely. With one last effort he tried to lift himself from the cross, but his resonance field, his very soul, had disconnected from his flesh.
Above him the sky darkened in haste as a Gate of Guf opened. An expanse of dark clouds appeared without warning, circling a monochromatic rainbow of haloed light that swallowed the invisible and singular soul of the firstborn Seraphim.
A great booming sound shook the heavens and the ground trembled briefly. The halos fell into themselves and disappeared, leaving the dark clouds to scatter and let loose a smattering of light rain onto the surprised and worried heads of the onlookers.
Kiel ignored the atmospheric irregularities left behind in the wake of his brutal familiacide. He walked away with the Lance of Longinus, compressing it into something simpler to handle, tucking it away beneath his cloak.
Already thoughts on how to improve Michael's original plan were percolating through his mind. He could simply destroy the leftover body in its tomb a few days from now and imitate the intended resurrection; indeed, a subversion of Michael's plan seemed very promising.
While he had only intended to assassinate the other firstborn due to the convenience of Michael's (self-inflicted) weakened state, he now found himself inheriting a cornucopia of possibilities. The Seraphim had never understood the deep, evolutionary drive of the humans to seek out strife and destruction like the Nephilim had.
It was the very root of their disagreement in how the humans should be led: the hands-off, peaceful approach versus the manipulative and interfering. The Twelve had made a pact of non-interference with each other as they divided up the humans into their own experimental allotments.
Never would the peace-loving Seraphim have imagined the Nephilim would be capable of killing their fellow firstborn. Then again, the Seraphim still believed that the Nephilim desired to simply repair the Great Vessel and restore the All-Mother, their very reason for being.
Fools. The Nephilim had grown past such petty concerns.
The purification of souls would be their final victory, their instrumentality. They would become the gods of a new world.
And if the other firstborn had to die in order to prevent any interference in the Nephilim plans: then so be it.
He shook his head ruefully as he walked, the muddy path gradually giving way to pebbles and eventually loose pavers as he came closer to the city gates of Jerusalem.
There would come a time where he could further subvert these events to his own ends; indeed, he had been meaning to test various new methods of insurrection and inception in the human sheep.
Perhaps he would be able to test the infiltration idea he had been working on? He could persecute the faithful, these believers in the man on the cross, and then switch to their side: a powerful conversion story.
Couple this with a few "miracles" here and there and he would become the master of their future narrative. The short-lived humans would have no choice but to cede their faith to his long-lived endeavors.
The victor writes the history book, isn't that so?
He smiled wickedly.
Know that your death is not in vain, brother.
I will make you a legend.
2015 A.D., SEELE
"Ikari. Explain yourself!" the balding committee member demanded.
Shortly after arriving to Central Dogma from within the depths of the geofront the party of colluding NERV staff were met by a harried looking staffer letting Commander Ikari know that his presence was required by the U.N. for a debrief of the previous day's battle.
Kozo and Gendo both knew this meant, in reality, a meeting with SEELE, the true power behind the U.N.'s governance of NERV's operations. Further, this meeting was occurring far in advance of the previous timeline - no doubt Gendo was being called on the proverbial carpet for his unsanctioned use of Eva Unit-01.
Soon enough Gendo was sitting at a desk in a virtual meeting room, with Kozo off to his side in the background, bearing the brunt of the Human Instrumentality Committee's questions.
"Yes, Gendo, explain your actions in your battle with the Third Angel, Sachiel," commanded Lorenz Kiel, chairman of the committee, "Your unauthorized use of Evangelion Unit-01 was outside the parameters set by the Scrolls."
Gendo folded his fingers in front of his face. Internally he scoffed. The Dead Sea Scrolls were nothing compared to the actual Source. But he abided.
"The First Child was severely injured and unable to pilot; the Third Child arrived too late to be of any assistance. Due to my direct exposure to the First Angel during the Katsuragi Expedition I was willing to at least attempt to pilot Unit-01." At this point he stared pointedly at Ouzza, "You will understand my reasons for believing that I might be a compatible pilot."
Ouzza tsked his disagreement, "Be that as it may, you simply should have used the Third Child regardless. The ceremony requires we follow the Prophecy!"
Another member called out, "Yes, for what else is the Berserker mode designed? This was to be the prime test of the Evangelion's true power using the child of prophecy, not you!"
Kiel interrupted them, quieting the assemblage with a flat wave of his hand, "Enough. Gendo Ikari, do you have anything else to say in this matter?"
"I did what had to be done. There was no other way. Defeating the Angels is what NERV was created for." He reached up with a finger and adjusted his glasses, pushing them from the center of the frame up the bridge of his nose.
Murmurs, disagreement, dischord.
Kiel folded his hands in front of him, left over right, leaning forward. "You are not free to make such decisions without our input. Moving forward you will agree to our terms and return us to the proper path."
"Yes."
"The Third Child will be the pilot of Unit-01."
"Yes."
Ouzza wasn't done. "Remember that you are replaceable, Ikari!"
In Gendo's head he replayed one of the proudest moments of his life: when he took the Ikari name, abandoning Rokubungi, purely to enrage Yui's father by associating his lowborn status with theirs. Yui had enthusiastically approved, miffed at the old man for one reason or another at the time.
"Of course, committee member, it is as you say."
Balam called out from the side, "Yes, yes, this is all very well, but I have grave concerns over other elements that Ikari has been hiding from us, such as this latest 'report' from the Marduk Institute." That said he tossed a virtual folder onto his desk, the files instantly replicating across each of the other members' spaces.
"We knew of your experiments with the Ayanami series, Ikari, but what is all this about the Tsukino series?" asked Rumael, pointing at the picture of Lily and the faked background data that Ritsuko and he had hastily assembled.
Gendo took a breath and Kozo stiffened behind him. This was it. If they pulled through this moment intact then the original scenario would play out mostly as it had previously. If SEELE detected his duplicity, on the other hand, the compromised Section 2 agents outside would no doubt be ordered to swarm the room and kill him on the spot.
Well, try to kill him, at least.
"As you know, the experiments with the Ayanami clone series, utilizing Lilith's qDNA as part of a hybrid human clone, have been successful in creating an artificial pilot for the Evangelions, despite her low sync rate. Additionally, we have been able to graft souls of tabula rasa from the Chamber of Guf, blank slates, if you will, into the hybrids, allowing us to train them from gestation as fully obedient soldiers."
"Rei II, as she is designated, is the current incarnation of the series. The first, as you may remember, was terminated by the late Dr. Akagi during a fit of mental instability preceding her... unfortunate suicide."
Balam drummed his fingers, "Yes, shortly after completing work on the original MAGI, we recall."
"Indeed. I won't bore you with the fine details, but the Ayanami series suffers from a series of genetic defects due to the imperfect cloning and growth acceleration techniques employed in their creation." He shrugged, making it clear he doubted they would even understand a more intricate explanation. "Their bodies continuously try to reject their own organs, requiring an extensive cocktail of drugs to keep them functional. The First Child's condition, therefore, is more delicate than desired."
He took another breath - no one had interrupted him.
"Thus, the younger Dr. Akagi and I initiated a subsequent cloning series based off of the DNA of another human exposed to the First Angel, that is to say..."
But he was interrupted by Kiel: "Misato Katsuragi. The sole survivor of the First Contact Experiment."
"Yes. Her Gates of Nebuchadnezzar are open. She herself could pilot an Evangelion if required, just as I was able this one time. However, unlike myself she shares no link with an ensouled Evangelion, and we have no useful soul to salvage that could create any such bond with her."
A murmur of agreement moved through the committee.
"Thus, with Captain Katsuragi as a donor, we have created a second series based on her DNA hybridized with L…," he coughed, interrupting himself," The First Angel's qDNA. We named her line 'Tsukino' due to her creation within the Black Moon. Her accelerated growth so far has revealed no organ rejection issues."
He made sweeping eye contact with each seated member. "As the committee remembers, I was given carte blanche to create the Dummy System at any cost. She is the cost and the result."
"I see," said Kiel, considering the folder of data in front of him, "And her training?"
"Not as extensive as the Ayanami series; for instance, she could not pilot in her current state. I accelerated her decantment due to the early arrival of the Angels. She will act as a base template for the Dummy System. We will begin the regular schedule of inhibitors and neural conformity conditioning regimens soon, to bring her in line with Ayanami."
Kiel waved away the data. "Then all is well. We will speak no more on the matter. Agreas, what say you?"
The blond man nearest Gendo looked over, shuffling a stack of plasheets filled with numbers and figures, "Damage to Tokyo-3 and the geofront was minimal, hmm, repair costs are relatively minor." He eyed Gendo suspiciously, "You fought well, better than could be expected, I would say."
His compliment was left hanging as a question.
"I am sure that once Unit-01 bonds with the Third Child I will no longer be able to pilot at all. The soul within Unit-01 is no longer truly conscious: the Berserker state demonstrates that. She would surely choose her own son over myself at some instinctive level," he lied smoothly.
"Yes, that is surely true," ribbed Ouzza, enjoying what he imagined to be Gendo's jealousy, "Yui has no further use for you."
He didn't respond, simply staring impassively over his fingers at the chairman.
Kiel, having allowed Ouzza to indulge in his little byplay with the man's erstwhile son-in-law, desired to wind down the proceedings. "Very well. Given the deviation from the Dead Sea Scrolls all our efforts must be put forth to restore the proper order of things. We do not know when to expect the Fourth Angel, but we cannot trust in our original estimates."
"That seems prudent," Gendo affirmed.
"You are dismissed, Gendo Ikari. Do not disappoint us."
The desks and council members winked out as the connection cut and the lights increased their brightness to fill the room.
Kozo finally breathed out, "Well. What next?"
Gendo leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head and finally taking a moment to relax. "I don't know about you, Fuyutsuki, but I'm going to go home. And get shit-faced. And sleep."
Kozo smiled knowingly, "Need a hand?"
Gendo looked up and behind him with no small measure of fondness for his usual drinking partner.
"Maybe next time, old man. I already invited Ritsuko over."
2015 A.D., Pilot Corp Apartments
"Ah-ha-a-ah-ah-ha-haaa…" Misato nervously laughed, "She's just kidding Shinji, ahaha!"
"I-I'm sorry Ms. Misato," Shinji said from the floor, staring upwards at the Captain's younger sister who was looking at him with a queer expression. As if to say, 'I did nothing out of the ordinary, what are you doing on the floor?'
So naturally the younger girl said, "What are you doing on the floor?"
Then she looked down at her skirt. "Are you looking at my clothes?" Her brow furrowed, and she lifted her hem a bit to inspect it. "Are you looking under my clothes?"
Before Shinji could even process this new attack on his rapidly fraying sanity Misato jumped forward and grabbed Lily around the shoulders.
The older woman was incredibly thankful Ritsuko had demonstrated the quick thinking to raid Rei Ayanami's storage locker for clothing that would fit the teenage incarnation of the creator of mankind.
"Such a kidder, this one, ahaha, Lily, remember what we talked about?" she said through clenched teeth while maintaining her forced smile.
For a moment a blank look passed over Lily's eyes before an 'Aha!' thought reached her primary decision making center. She didn't even notice that she clapped a fist into other open palm, but Shinji on the other hand couldn't help but notice it sent her teenage chest moving in a very distracting way.
"Yes, of course. I am sorry Shinji Ikari, I am a diagnosed hikokimori shut-in and cannot function well in normal social situations." She nodded to herself again, having recited her cover story to perfection.
Then the not-human-at-all teenage girl turned to Misato, whirling her borrowed skirts above Shinji again, who quite nearly sprung a bloody nose from the flash of panty he briefly saw, and demanded: "Big sister, where is my security blanket?"
Misato, to her credit, simply regripped Lily's shoulders and began pulling her off to the room marked: Katsuragi, Misato.
"Excuse us Shinji, I'm going to have a brief talk, in private, about living with other people, with my little sister."
Lily was being hurriedly pushed towards the far end of the common in front of a retreating Misato as Shinji began finally pulling himself up off the carpeted floor.
Just as he finally got fully back to his feet the far door of Misato's door clicked shut, leaving him alone in the enormous living space. He looked around at the kitchen, the entertainment center, the bookshelves, and was just deciding what to do with himself when he door opened part way and Misato stuck her head out.
"But seriously, Shinji, go take a shower."
The door shut again.
Shinji walked unsteadily to the room marked as his own and opened the door. It opened into a functional looking space with a western style bed, desk, dresser, yet another bookshelf, and a stand for a non-existent T.V. or computer. On the far side of the room a sliding closet door was on the left, and what could only be the bathroom door on the right.
"Finally," he said out loud to the empty room, and picked up his pace to the bathroom door, pulling it open.
To his complete surprise a waft of steam flowed out from the doorway and into his new room.
He looked down and saw the small body of an honest-to-god penguin staring up at him with a small towel draped around its neck.
"*Wark?*"
2015 A.D., Ikari Apartment
Gendo was on his sixth drink and Ritsuko was on her fifth. A large bottle of vodka dominated the small non-slip bathroom mat outside of the large shower, along with a half-emptied jug of cranberry juice: Ritsuko had raided the kitchen for mixers.
Behind them the shower was on full blast, set to a level slightly warmer than room temperature. It wasn't exactly steaming up the room, but at least the tiled floor wasn't cold. They were both sitting just outside of the shower stall with the door wide open, filling the room with the white noise of the falling water and occasionally getting sprinkled by errant water droplets.
All a necessary annoyance they put up with to avoid the listening bugs SEELE (and others as well, Gendo said!) that had been placed through the apartment. Ritsuko felt like a super-spy despite half of their clothes already being strewn around the bathroom - she was down to slip and skirt and Gendo's socks were off in a corner along with his jacket.
"So, you're telling me, ah," she sipped from her plastic cup, "That you shot me? In the chest? With a gun?"
It hadn't actually happened yet, so she wasn't overly upset, no, wait, she was pretty sure she was furious: no wonder he had wanted to get drunk as a skunk before telling her anything more about the future.
Gendo nodded sloppily, "Mm, yes, you were trying to stop me from initiating Third Impact at the time." He took another swallow.
"That's…" Something didn't add up, Ritsuko knew she would've had a plan going into a confrontation like that, like… blowing the N2 mines stashed throughout the geofront, the self-destruct system existed for a reason!
Gendo was giving her some side eye as he swirled his cup. "Yes... you even had a remote detonator... it was," he thought for a second and took a swig, "Poetic, actually. You chose a perfect moment."
She grabbed the neck of the vodka bottle and refilled into her cup, drowning the valiant cranberry juice that was trying desperately to keep her from overdoing it.
"How in the hell did I not," she pointed her drink at him, "Push the button in time, then? I'm pretty sure I'd have tried to take you with me."
"Yeah…" he looked somehow prouder about this than he should be, "You did, actually."
Her face faulted as she figured out what that meant.
"Are you… did the… the MAGI disagreed!?" she whisper-yell-slurred, trying to maintain their cover of the falling water. She leaned over to him, her leftover drink spilling off to the side. She grabbed what she could of his collar and he didn't stop her, "Which one was it, which one, it-it was Casper, wasn't it, w-wasn't it!?" she hissed-demanded.
Gendo nodded, then lifted his cup between them and took another drink.
"God damn, that goddamn bitch!" Ritsuko released Gendo's collar, reaching behind her and grabbing the entire vodka bottle and taking a swig. "Of course the one that represents my mother as a 'woman' decided to choose you over me. Good god, am I stupid? That cold-hearted bitch!"
Gendo put down his cup and put his hands in his lap, turning them up as though to reassure her. "Well, to be fair…"
"Not a goddamn word, Ikari!" she stewed, plopping the bottle down shakily. "Just, just give me a second here. OK. That's just, so fucked up."
"Yes," he agreed.
"And then, what, your little reunion plan with Rei didn't work out?"
"She cut off my hand and left me to bleed out."
Ritsuko couldn't help but giggle in an unsettling manner. "Didn't know the little thing had it in her!" She moved back into a sitting position, relieved that she wasn't the only one who'd had a terrible fate at the end. "Well, you deserved it."
"I... yes," he acknowledged, then drained his cup.
"So let me get this all straight. You hung on just long enough to be assimilated into the post-Instrumentality collective, lived forever, met an alien, another alien, I mean, traveled back in time, and are trying to fix things?"
He nodded.
"That sounds like a cheap sci-fi plot, you know that, don't you?"
"I had... considered that, yes."
"And you're saying you 'learned a lot' and are a 'better person' than your original timeline?"
He eyed the vodka. "I wouldn't… say… better."
"You literally spent eons in group therapy," she pointed out.
"Well, I wouldn't… put it," he thought it out, "I wouldn't put it exactly like that. But I did commune with the remains of humanity, the sane ones at least, for quite some time."
"So group therapy."
"Fine, yes," he admitted.
"And Yui is still alive and fully conscious, inside Unit-01, and you actually talked with her?"
"Yes."
"You called her out for her bullshit?"
"I did."
"And you broke up?"
"Ah." Now he needed another refill, so he started to pour more, "In the original timeline she had gone, *hic*, quite insane, you realize. In this one she still chose to merge with Unit-01 than stay with Shinji and I here in the real world, so… let's call say that we have, hmm, ir-irrecon-irreconcilable differences. She does wants out, of the Eva I mean, eventually."
"OK," Ritsuko affirmed to herself, considering this, "But for now you're separated."
"Effectively, yes."
"Fair enough." Drink.
The water was still running, and Ritsuko idly wondered how much of the geofront's potable water they were wasting.
"Why, why did you tell me all of this?" she gestured behind her at the running shower, incidentally soaking her hand. Gendo watched the water wet the fabric of her blouse as it ran down her arm.
"I... " the alcohol had definitely lowered his inhibitions, "I care. About you."
"You care about me?" she asked, with a complete lack of belief. "You shot me!" She reached over and grabbed onto the cranberry juice, prepping herself another round. "Future me," she grumbled.
"Ritsuko… I'm... Sorry?" he ventured. "I am trying to correct my mistakes, for all of our sakes," he pointed out.
She pondered this. Very deep thoughts were penetrating the haze of alcohol - Misato had helped her build up quite a bit of tolerance over the years.
"Did you just apologize?"
"Yes."
"I've never heard you say those words before." She had managed to get another splash or two of vodka into her cup of cranberry juice. "Do it again."
"I'm sorry."
"Again."
"I'm… sorry."
"Wow," she breathed between sips, "Gendo Ikari. Commander of NERV. Arch-arch-architect of humanity's survival - apologizing to me."
She gulped down her cup. "Why do you care about me, anyways? You d-don't need me for any of this."
Gendo set down his own plastic cup that he'd been clutching at in his lap. "No, you're wrong. I do need you. I was... wrong to treat you as I did in the past."
"You used me. You used my mother!"
"Yes." What else could he say? He stared into the empty cup.
Time passed uncomfortably.
"And you still want me?" she asked quietly, the falling water almost drowning out her question.
He looked into her eyes: "Yes."
"You're attracted to me?"
He laughed. "Ever since I saw you in that little college number you used to wear when you were doing your post-doc, the grey one with the skirt." Oh, he had definitely drunk far too much.
"Seriously?" she leaned forward. "It was boring, prudish, even!"
He shrugged, "What can I say? I have a *hic* thing for academics." He pointed at her hair, "Honestly? I liked your original coloring, though."
She took that in, reaching instinctively up to fluff her hair a bit, thinking about what he said. A return to the topic at hand was due.
"I'm going to kill Casper," she said defiantly. The less Gendo thought about her mother, the better. It was why she had dyed her hair in the first place.
Gendo looked at her evenly, "Go right ahead."
"And... you're planning to assassinate the members of SEELE?"
"Yes."
"But... Lily just explained to us that they're effectively immortal."
He nodded again, then reached out his palm, and with a bit of concentration created a small ball composed of overlapping hexagons. Ritsuko stared, enraptured by the mini-A.T. field, as he morphed it into a small spike, a flat card, and back to a ball before dismissing it.
"Fuck me," she breathed out.
"It has to be done, we'll find a way."
"No, Gendo," she said, crawling forward, "I meant: Fuck. Me."
She climbed on top of him, his eyes traveling along her curves until they arrived at her sultry face. Her hands slipped up along his face and gently lifted his glasses up - she set them aside on the white tiles.
"You'll... look at me?" she carefully confirmed, searching his eyes for any deception.
His arms were already wrapping around her as they overbalanced and fell backwards into the shower, knocking over the bottles and soaking their remaining clothes in vodka and cranberry juice. In the rush of water she laid on top of him as he mouthed the words she had longed to hear.
All was right with the world.