~o0o~

The next day there was no morning call to wake her, but her aching muscles took over the job. The sunlight spilling in kept sleep at bay, unconsciousness would not claim her. It had been a week since Up had shown her the rehab tubs but her muscles still protested the brutal workouts with him.

Taz suddenly craved to be home. The bed was disgusting, the sheets smelled of mold, the air was acrid. Involuntary shudders wracked through her; palming her father's knife, Taz clutched it in her hands, murmuring in Spanish. Unsheathing it, she ran her thumb along the ridged edge, wishing she could get home. Something fell with a loud thud and Taz flinched, her thumb slipped and spilled bright blood. Fascinated by the small rivulet, Taz huddled further into her blankets.

Taz clutched the knife to her chest, wishing her family back to life, willing them to piece themselves back together, dust off the blood and welcome her back home. The blanket was too heavy, it was choking, but Taz dind't want to see her roommates, didn't want to see the cramped blue room. Someone was screaming in Taz's memory, the pop and crunch of bones rumbled just behind her eyelids, she shut them tight. The screaming came closer, she could hear the desperate cries...

The knife bit deep, her blood pooled from between her fingers. A sheen of sweat covered Taz's face, the knife was stained and when she tried to wipe away the blood, a fresh wave spilled from her palm onto her knife. The screams that had frothed at her ears dimmed with the pain. Taz dug the knife deeper into her palm and the sounds of screams faded into nothing. There was just the fresh pain in her palm. It anchored her, the metal taste in her mouth dulled to a memory once again. The blood that trickled down onto her arm became darker and congealed into a black stain. Taz hugged her knife, and balled her palm tightly, relieved at escaping the waking nightmare. Before leaving her room Taz tied a bandage around her palm tightly, making sure it wouldn't slip.

Taz ran a couple of laps and was stretching by the time Up entered the gym. Only a few of the more dedicated Rangers were there on a Saturday afternoon and they cast curious glances at Taz. When Up went to join her they collectively raised their eyebrows but didn't say a word.

"Que haremos hoy?"

Up hefted a dummy stand to where Taz stood, "You stink at directing your energy towards one goal. You're all over the place. So we're going to start with something easier than fighting with me." Taz scowled but didn't object. Up turned the dummy to face her. "I figure this is about your level," he quipped.

They sparred for hours in the humid gymnasium. When Taz fell to her knees from exhaustion, Up left and brought back sandwiches. They sat on the floor companionably working their way through turkey on rye.

"Whose that?"

"Ensign Spyro."

"And that?"

"Commander Shepard."

"Her?"

"Ensign Juice"

Taz eyed him suspiciously, "I think jou're pulling my leg. Who the hell would name their kid Juice?" Up shrugged, "I think she's from farm planet. They name themselves." By the time they finished their food, everyone else had left the gym, they sat alone sipping their drinks. Up stood, "Ready to spar again?" Taz bounced to her feet, " Vamos!"

They circled one another for a few seconds before Taz attacked. Up stayed on the defensive for a while, simply blocking and measuring her tactics, she's getting better. Taz combined different kicks to distract him, then snapped her heel at his elbow, and she managed to knock him down with a well-placed punch and tackle. He was impressed, not that I'd ever let her know that. He lunged towards her, beginning his own attacks, watching Taz block him. Up held himself back, sending predictable combinations at her. The techniques Taz used were sloppy and inaccurate but when she attacked, Taz threw her full weight behind her punches. This lent her power but it left her wide open. "Be careful with your punches," cautioned Up, "You're vulnerable. And you're not strong enough to block my hits at such close range," he batted her forearm aside and sent her to the mat.

Immediately, Up saw her change, something he said made her angry and she began punching him twice as hard while managing to use her upper arms as shields. Her face contorted, eyes turned to slivers of fury and mouth curled into a snarl. He began punching harder too, matching her violent fury with his weight. Up turned his torso away from a kick, hooked his foot around her leg and sent her crashing to the floor, again. Roaring, Taz regained her feet and lunged for his head, they landed heavily on the mat. Up was bewildered by her rage but didn't question it. Hissing in anger, Taz punched Up's head repeatedly, he grappled for her arm but only managed to grab her hand. Taz thrashed away from him, but Up twisted her hand ripping off the bandage that wrapped her hand. She winced at the sweat that stung her palm.

"STOP!" Something in his voice made her pause. She lifted her eyes and shrunk away from him, he was staring at her hand. The injury was still raw and glowed red against her skin. Up lifted his eyes to hers and Taz had to force herself not to flinch from the intensity of his gaze. When he spoke, it was with the deadliness of a coiled mamba, "What happened to you hand?" Taz reclaimed her hand, shoulders dropping, "Oh. Dat? I was sharpening my knife and Krayonder decided it would be funny to throw a book at me," the lie turned her mouth into ash and mud. He shook his head slowly, trying to dislodge something, "Let me see it again." "No. It's just a cut. I was kicking jour ass. Let's keep going."

"Taz." The danger in his voice was unquestionable.

Taz held her hand out, afraid. He grasped her hand roughly and examined her palm and then her thumb. Taz nervously tried to reclaim her hand but Up gripped it tighter, "Funny thing about slicing your hand accidentally is that one side of the cut will be shallower than the rest because of the body's reflex to being injured."

A knot that had formed in Taz's throat fell ten stories to her stomach. "This one here on your thumb looks like an accident, one side is shallower. This one, however, looks to be on purpose." He squinted at her, and watched the blood drain from her face under his scrutiny. "Taz," he growled threateningly, "Tell me you didn't do this." He felt her tense but didn't try to pull away. When he tore his eyes away from her, Taz curled her hand into a fist and yanked it away. "So what? Jou're not anything to me. Jou weren't there." It connected squarely with the side of his head and sent him reeling.

Enraged at her response he loosed his fist against her head, sending her sprawling. "How dare you say that!" Up's fury made his southern accent come out thicker. Taz rolled to her feet and lunged at his head, teeth bared. She screamed at him and he yelled in her face. They fought ruthlessly, aiming to hurt one another. Now, Up didn't pull his punches and thick, black bruises blossomed across her face and arms.

He felt no remorse.

"Well you're a friend to me, you stupid girl. How'm I notsupposed to care? And you think I don't know what happened to you?" he viciously kicked her legs out from under her and she skillfully rolled away, "You don't think I've been in this Dead Goddamned war longer than you have lived?"

Taz was now on the defensive, she was quick to bob and weave but Up slowly beating her down. I'll be damned if I let him beat me, Taz faked him out with a punch and sent him stumbling with a round house kick. The flat sound of her foot making impact with his ribs was satisfying, "Jou haven't lost anyone jou love! Jou're an orphan!" "Dead Goddamned right I'm an orphan!" roared Up into her face, he discarded fighting fair and tackled her. "And you know what I did after I became an orphan? I took to the streets!" they struggled and Taz tried squirming away, Up pressed his shoulder into her sternum and Taz gasped for breath.

"Is THIS what you wanted to see?" He released her and she shot away from him, curled into a tight ball near the wall, bruised and bloody but watching as for the second time in his life, Up bared his arms. The scars weren't clearly defined to anyone who just happened to glance, but they were there. Broad and ugly, sectioning his arm into halves. Understanding dawned on Taz's face.

Up advanced towards her, "Is this proof enough for you that I know?"

Up's face was pale, making his eyes gleam in the glaring fluorescent lights, "Are these the thanks I get for saving your skin and putting my reputation on the line? Is this how you repay your family for their sacrifice? By tearing yourself to shreds?"

Whatever reaction Up was expecting from the fiery girl, it wasn't this.

She curled in on herself and began sobbing.

Taz felt cracked and hollow, Up tiene razon. She might've lost her entire world, but she had gained a new onw with people who, for some reason, cared about her. And she had her own life, would her parentslike to see that she'd turned to hurting herself when the world became too difficult?

Taz knew that her mama would be disgusted with her behavior and her papa would be heart broken. The tears were now real and they burned her; the emotions she'd ignored for the past month burst to the surface when Up took away the right to hurt herself. The pain came forth in clear, salty droplets. Taz dragged at her hair in a desperate attempt to lessen the pain. Instead of trying to deal with her thoughts, she'd shunted it down until it had burst forth like an infected pustule, Taz knew she didn't deserve anyone's pity or comfort.

Taz also knew Up would never forgive her, so she flinched when he approached her, expecting a blow to her head. Up said simply, "Cry, Taz," pulling her into his arms. And Taz clung to him, burying her face in his chest and weeping for what she had lost. Something shifted in Up, he realized that it was impossible notto care about the people who surrounded you, eventually they became friends. And this girl; this lost, red-eyed, tangle-headed, bad-tempered girl was unknowingly worming her way in. To where, Up had no clue, all he knew was that she broke his goddamned heart. At that moment, Up also clung to Taz desperately, it was exhausting being alone all the time. Up closed his eyes and rested his head on her shoulder.

So many good people were now gone, most whose names he'd forgotten, but their faces always came back to him at night. Nameless screaming faces, their eyes unseeing, ribs exposed to the air. He shuddered and pulled Taz in closer, her wracking sobs hadn't subsided; Up held Taz tightly so they wouldn't fly to pieces.

Up wasn't sure when he fell asleep. When he awoke, he quickly checked his watch; it was still early. Up sighed in relief and tried to move, only to realize that Taz was still curled in his arms. Up leaned against the wall and shimmied onto his feet, managing to keep a tight hold on her. The base was deserted, it was Sunday and everyone was asleep or still prowling the streets.

Instead of taking Taz to her room, Up walked to his own and tucked her into his bed; he pried her boots off and pulled the comforter to her chin. Only then did Up curl under a thick blanket on the small sofa and drift off to asleep.

"Hmff," Groggily, Taz hid her head from the bright sunlight coming in through the window, it took her a second to realize that the usual snuffling and farting from her roommates was absent. She shot out of the bed and was halfway across the strange room before she caught sight of Up snoring on the sofa, his mustache twitched and he rolled over, still asleep. Quietly, Taz crept to the bed and crawled back in. She wrapped the blankets around her, she could worry about what happened later, right now everything was peaceful and she could sleep.

The second time Taz awoke she could hear the muffled sound of a shower. When the bathroom door opened she covered her head and pretended to be asleep. Up opened and closed drawers while humming a song. It sounded familiar to Taz. "Hey! Wake up!" Something heavy and wet landed on her. She pushed the covers and towel to the side and rubbed her eyes, "What time is it?"

" 'Bout 8. Still early for a Sunday, you don't have duty today do you?" Taz shook her head. "That's good."

They stared at one another for a long time; Taz dropped her head into her hands. He sat down on the couch, "Taz-"

"Jou're right. I was stupid. It won't happen again." Up couldn't read her expression but there were shadows under her eyes. She looked weary. "I'm glad, but- Taz," he dragged a hand across his face, why is this so goddamned difficult?,"You ever feel that way again you come here right away and I promise to beat the living snot out of you." Up was relieved to see her chuckle, her eyes crinkling into slivers. "Is dat a promise?" she wiped her eyes, they were overbright. Up offered a hesitant smile, "I'm not the best therapist so you'll have to settle for sparring."

"Gracias, Up," the smile slipped from her face and she grew thoughtful. "How long ago?" She gestured towards his arms. He tipped his head to one side, " Oh, young enough to still think tamagotchis were cool. I was a stupid boy. It was Pryce who stopped me."

"Jou knew Pryce before jou got here?" Taz left the bed and sat next to Up on the couch. "Pryce was stationed in a nearby state...and well, in a nutshell me and a couple of my mates were drunk when we ran into the Rangers. It wasn't pretty." Up was embarrassed at the memory but was pleased to see Taz manage a smile, "I'll bet."

They sat in companionable silence and Taz looked around, everything was sparse and neat; a thick folder lay on the walnut desk. Up followed her gaze, "Ah... I got that today. It's a new mission in a couple of days. Even though it's in the middle of the fighting it's just security for a politician, so don't worry."

Taz looked surprised, "Why would I worry? Are jou planning on going out dere and getting jourself killed?"

"Uh, no. I wasn't planning on it."

A grim smile formed on Taz's lips, "Dat's good because I need a rematch." Up snorted, "By the time you manage to throw me I'll be a Rear Admiral."

Each week slipped through Taz's fists like so much water; six months of duty with Pathos, studying for school, and sparring with Up. That was Taz's life: butchery, books, and bruises. Pathos began teaching her intricate throws, she advanced in her classes, and Up could no longer pretend that her punches didn't hurt.

The day of her graduation ceremony, Taz stepped out of the shower and saw a stranger with a mess of black hair and almost black eyes looking back at her quizzically from the mirror.

Taz'lation:

Up tiene razon : Up is right