Please read Disclaimer in Prelude.
Title: Firebird Sweet C36: Death of a Dragon
Author: JaganshiKenshin
Genre: Action/Adventure, Humor, and Beyond
Rating: T
Summary: The enemy has fled, but the damage is done.
A/N: Here marks the end of our penultimate story arc, and I have mixed feelings about that. Up until now I've posted my updates weekly in a somewhat timely fashion, but with the exacting nature of the final chapters, it may proceed at the rate of once every two weeks. You can view the chapter's accompanying sketches up on my LJ homepagey. As always, thanks for reading this, and I appreciate your reviews.
"Will she live?"
Firebird Sweet C36: Hell Week (Death of a Dragon, part six)
by
Kenshin
"Y' didn't lemme finish the target." The Boss' statement was barely audible above the thop-thop of the Robinson's revolving blades.
Heart pounding, fear staining the front of his shirt, Carlos snapped out a reply. "He's not going anywhere." Focused on selecting a landing spot from the tangle of forest, what Carlos really wanted to say was: You're damned lucky you got away with your life.
Because the target moved faster than anyone Carlos had ever seen. Even poisoned, beaten, bludgeoned, pinned by the Boss' Jagan, and three-on-one---he had posed a genuine threat. No way in hell could Carlos hope to stand up to him, and if the target remembered, and came after the Boss---
But the Boss merely sounded peevish. "So we're gonna hide in the bushes like rats?"
None of this was helping Carlos settle into the abstract mood necessary to set the ship down among closely-spaced trees. Flying a Robbie was different from any of the ancient Hueys or WW II-vintage Sikorskys he'd flown in the past. Light and cat-quick, they were challenging, and came with dual controls.
The first thing Carlos had done was to disconnect the passenger-side foot pedals. Disconnecting the T-shaped cyclic, which allowed both passenger and pilot equal access to the controls, was next on his to-do list.
Carlos sent the machine down low, almost brushing the trees with his skids. His men had been instructed to slip toward the main road, then wait for the car to pick them up after dark. Now all that remained was to secure the Boss.
"Take me back to th' warehouse," the Boss demanded.
Carlos slid the Robbie's tail portside to avoid an intrusive tree. He did not trumpet such maneuvering skill, honed from years of 'dust-offs'---dropping a man close to the ground, yet without landing.
"Hey." The Boss gave him an elbow. "I know y'think I'm nuts, but I got my own way of doin' things."
"So do I!" Never before had Carlos dared address the Boss in such a manner. "And I know how things work in the human world! We're hiding from the law. That means I can't file a flight plan without leaving a hot trail, so we travel by night, blind." Carlos eased back on the stick. "And we can't hover indefinitely. Out in the middle of nowhere like this we'll be heard, and that old Reiki master can make trouble!"
The Boss lifted his lip. "Let 'er."
"She can blow away an entire army of tougher guys than all ours put together, with one hand tied behind her back! We don't have that many left, or weren't you counting?"
Sighting their spot, Carlos aligned the top of the rotors with the tree, easing the ship down until it touched ground.
Then he turned off the engine and sat, waiting for retaliation.
But the Boss only slanted an obsidian glance his way. "Good job," he said, then folded his arms, settled against the bubble, and shut his eyes.
Carlos eased his cramping hands off the stick and let out a deep breath. Again, they'd blown a chance to kill the target.
0-0-0-0-0
Hiei opened his eyes.
Ringing in his head. Aching back and shoulders. Flinty odor of rock. Cottony mouth. He swallowed, caused a fit of racking coughs, tried to sit up.
Bad idea. That sent his head spinning again. Stupid head. Lurching to one knee, ignoring the tilt of the stone floor, Hiei staggered to his feet and stood, uncertain.
What day was this? Moon or sun? Waking or dream? A pressing sense of anxiety about... about...
One steadying hand on the cave wall, Hiei wobbled outside.
0-0-0-0-0
The warehouse was all but deserted. There was only the bored ochre-yellow oni, and the water sprites, whose language the little broken-nosed jaki did not understand.
And the gray oni, seated in the Boss' office, staring at an object in his hand.
His scrutiny thus fixed, the gray oni did not see the jaki crouched among cardboard boxes atop the steel cabinet, but the jaki had an excellent view of the oni, and remained frozen in place as the gray oni slid the object back into the desk drawer.
The jaki thought furiously: if the gray oni was spending so much time on it, the device must be very, very important.
0-0-0-0-0
It was an agonizingly slow journey, and even the fading light of afternoon seared his eyes. Hiei barely had the strength to slide the screen aside and enter the temple.
Genkai sat watching a soap opera, the sound blaring. She held the inevitable cup of tea in both hands, a fresh pot steaming on the table before her.
"Water," he gasped, then crashed to his knees, his attempt at speech wrenching out coughs that tore at his lungs and threatened to crack his ribs.
Then, someone pressed a mug of tea into his shaking hands. Gulping it down, Hiei held it out wordlessly for more.
The simple act of swallowing tea made his head blaze with a bonfire of pain, but the tea----Funny. He had never before noticed how green tea tasted---like thin new grass. It revived him somewhat. After he downed the third refill, he was at last able to look up and regard his tough little benefactor.
Genkai raised an eyebrow. "You look like crap, kiddo. Just what sort of bender were you out on last night?"
Her words slid over him as he fumbled in his pocket. Had to call his firebird. She'd be worried.
His fingers curled around nothing. Phone was gone.
"Seriously." Genkai knelt, assessing him, the heavy sleepy gaze narrowed. "Did you meet up with a saber-toothed tiger?"
Genkai's phone rang.
She sighed. "Probably the mother of your mongrels, wondering where on earth you are."
Good, Hiei thought. Talk to her. Reassure her.
Leaving Hiei where he was, Genkai went to pick up the phone. She listened a moment, scowling, then barked out: "Wait, hold on! Slow down, Yuusuke. What happened?"
Beats of silence, while a knot of dread tightened Hiei's throat. He put the mug on the floor.
Genkai flicked him a glance, then lowered her voice. "When?"
Unable to breathe, Hiei gave every sense over to listening.
Genkai said, "I see." And turned her back to Hiei.
His hands clenched into fists.
"Where are you now? Minamino's? How bad---"
Hiei didn't wait to hear the rest. Head still reeling, he leapt to his feet, sprang out the open screen, and took flight.
0-0-0-0-0
With the sun slanting low in the mountains and the Boss asleep at his side, Carlos waited for dark. They needed a panel truck, like the one they'd rented to move to the warehouse. And the Robbie wasn't just for show. It could also be used as a weapon.
0-0-0-0-0
I didn't protect her. I didn't protect her.
Words repeated over and over like a mantra, as Hiei bulled his way into the city and through it, until he crash-landed on the Minamino doorstep. With his last strength, he raised a hand to slam a fist against the door, but before he touched it, the door opened. Shiori stood there, gasping at his appearance.
Hiei stumbled inside. "Kids," he managed. "Shay-san---"
"Michael and CeeCee are here, they're all right," she assured him. "Oh, Hi-chan! Your feet!"
He made a clumsy move to kick off his boots, then realized for the first time that he was in stocking feet. Not exactly---tattered scraps of knitware still clung to his torn flesh. "Shay-san," he repeated.
"They're with her, upstairs."
His stomach twisted painfully as Shiori handed him house slippers. With no memory of mounting the stairs, Hiei found himself in Kurama's room.
She was lying on Kurama's massage table. The room had been turned into a makeshift hospital ward, with Kuwabara and Yuusuke standing off to the side, their faces intent on the still form beneath a white sheet.
For a moment, the universe had no floor.
"She's alive," Kurama said, without looking up.
"Where the hell were you, Runt?" Kuwabara scored Hiei with a ferocious glare. "Had my buddies out lookin' for you, too. Where the hell---"
Yuusuke waved him quiet.
"Gun," moaned Shay-san, her face sickly-white.
"I got it," Yuusuke assured her, then to Hiei: "She's worried some kid might've picked it up and shot himself."
"I'm here," Hiei said. There were no other greetings; the words had been for her alone: his firebird, fallen. Fallen because of his failure.
Shay-san's Dragon arm bled freely; her chest spiked with shallow, labored breaths as she appeared to be fighting for air. Her eyes were squeezed shut.
"Kurama won't even let us touch her." Kuwabara jerked his head at the girl. "Doesn't want the poison gettin' us."
"Poison?" Please, God, not Two-Hearts! Hiei's glance followed Yuusuke's, over to Kurama's desk. Resting on a stainless steel tray was an enormous yellow-green leaf wrapped around a solid form; Hiei could not tell what was under the leaf.
Yuusuke made a sudden move toward Shay-san. "If we could just transfer some ki---"
"Stay back," warned Kurama, working on her wounds with fierce, deft movements. "That's the bird that attacked her. Yuusuke was about to level it, but I stopped him."
"Bird?" Hiei narrowed his still-burning eyes at what was inside the leaf. "You saved it? Why?"
"If Yuusuke's Rei-gun had hit it, there would have been nothing left, no way of telling which antitoxin to use." Kurama lifted his head to meet Hiei's gaze at last. "She may have been injured on my watch, but she's not going to die."
Hiei's legs went out from under him. Yuusuke caught him by the arms, but he straightened, pushed away.
"After seeing how effective Holy Water and Holy Salt were against Two-Hearts," Kurama went on, "I asked Father Brian for a supply. I was carrying some when the creature struck, and I think that's what saved her. The bird's just an ordinary sparrow hawk---but its claws had been tipped with poison."
"Poison," Hiei repeated.
"I captured the hawk with a Thrashvine and subdued it with the Keepsake leaf. And I've already analyzed the venom."
Shay-san's eyelids fluttered.
"It's similar to what El Chupacabra carries in its claws," Kurama explained. "The bird would have died of it, eventually."
Hiei suppressed a shiver. The night of El Chupacabra, when Shay-san had been poisoned by its attack. For a dizzying moment he was inside the Shrine, in Arizona, tending a girl he barely knew, who lay sheened with sweat and heartbeats from death.
He shook it away. Dwelling in the past was useless. He would retrieve the fear, shock, and anger later, and use it as a catalyst to destroy whoever had done this to her.
Crossing to the table, Hiei reached for Shay-san. If she needed a transfer of ki, his own wavelength was close enough. That particular gambit had worked before, with the Heartblade. "Here," he told her. "Grab onto---"
"Don't even think it," warned Kurama. "You're covered in wounds, and you know how this sort of toxin works."
Hiei noticed for the first time that Kurama wore surgical gloves. Moving to the desk, he found the box of gloves and pulled out a handful, tossed a couple to Yuusuke and Kuwabara. "Will ki travel through these things?"
"Worth a try," growled Kuwabara, working his hand into a glove, as Yuusuke mirrored his action.
"Excellent thought," said Kurama, sparing a dangerous emerald glance for Hiei. "And don't you dare---your own aura is so depleted at the moment, any transference could kill you."
Hiei pressed his lips together. I can do nothing---not even give her my strength. The idiot was right. Where the hell was I? If I had been there to protect her---
"Ready!" Yuusuke held up his gloved hands. "What now?"
"Just lightly touch her ankles," directed Kurama, "but stay out of my way. You, too, Hiei---"
Snapping on a glove, Hiei curled his hand around Shay-san's. Even through that thin barrier, she felt too warm. Her face pale and glistening, teeth chattering, she did not yet open her eyes.
Please, he thought. You have to survive. Your kids need you. I need you. He managed to smile down at her and her eyes opened at last. Tears sparked their corners; she turned her head away. He knew how much she hated anyone to see her cry.
"Stupid woman," he said fondly.
Kuwabara and Yuusuke laid hands upon her; Hiei could sense the flow of their ki, pouring into her.
"Enough," said Kurama, never looking up.
The wounds on Shay-san's Dragon arm were already beginning to close. Hiei let out a sigh of relief.
"Hold her head." Kurama changed gloves, then reached into a pocket as Hiei cradled the back of her sweat-soaked head. The wrinkled green seed Kurama held between thumb and forefinger looked and smelled a lot like a cardamom pod. "I've replaced my stock so everything's untainted," Kurama informed him. "I've also kept the windows locked."
Hiei muttered, "No need to tell me all this---I trust you."
"Open your mouth," Kurama urged Shay-san. "Good girl. Now bite down on the seed and hold it on your tongue."
She bit into it. Immediately her head rolled to the side, and Hiei's stomach balled up again.
"It's all right," murmured Kurama. "The Sedare seed will help her sleep. She'll have to hold it on her tongue for a few minutes, and I need to make certain she doesn't choke on it." He glanced at Hiei. "And then I'll take a look at you."
0-0-0-0-0
Kuwabara and Yuusuke, satisfied that Shay-san was all right, had already left. At Shiori's urging, Hiei showered, then allowed Kurama to tend his wounds. Although he felt an urgent need to see Michael and CeeCee, to assure himself that they were safe, he did not want the smell and sight of his blood to frighten them.
The medical care had braced him somewhat, and the solid feel of the blessedly unhurt twins had lent him strength.
Yet he still had to struggle to keep his eyes open. It was later. Perhaps an hour later, or maybe only fifteen minutes; his sense of time was badly scrambled.
His firebird would live. That's all that mattered. She lay sleeping now in Kurama's own bed; Kurama felt it unwise to move her. Straddling a chair close to the bed, Hiei felt none too steady himself.
With curtains drawn, the darkened, hushed room was soothing to his eyes and ears. He needed to keep her in sight, needed to see her, lying on her back beneath a soft blue blanket. Needed the gentle rise and fall of her chest to reassure him that she was indeed still alive.
"Hiei." His voice barely above a whisper, Kurama pulled up his own chair. "We need to talk."
Hiei shook his head. "I'm watching over her."
"Kaasan will be happy to do so."
"I watched over her when that Chupa-whatsis attacked," he said stubbornly. "I'll do it now."
Kurama's voice conveyed a gentle reproach. "But you didn't have us with you at that time."
Hiei shrugged.
"Where were you, Hiei? How did your feet reach such a state? How did you get such wounds?"
"All I remember is..." He squeezed his eyes shut. Sand? Rock? No. Even that flash was fading. The scent of granite? "Genkai giving me tea. Then the phone rang."
"Genkai's? How did you end up there?"
"Could've wandered out, hitched a ride, thinking that's where we still lived."
"You could have. But we both know you didn't."
Hiei said nothing, lifted a hand to his aching neck, searching for the familiar, comforting feel of---
"My Rosary!" Shay-san had given it to him back in America, bestowing that which itself had been a gift from her uncle Thomas McNeil, premiere demonologist.
"Right here," Kurama soothed, plucking the Rosary from a pocket; Hiei snatched it up. "Shay-san brought it with her," Kurama added, "along with your phone. She said you left everything: Rosary, phone, wallet, sword."
Unable to speak for a moment, Hiei curled his fingers around the Rosary, rubbing the surface of the striated wooden beads.
"Don't remember taking it off. Don't remember anything."
"Light still hurts your eyes?"
Hiei nodded. Kurama moved around to the front, blocking his view of Shay-san. "Then this will be unpleasant." Gently pressing a thumb to each of Hiei's eyelids to keep them open, Kurama shone a penlight into first one eye, then the other.
"Mnf!"
"Sorry." Clicking off the penlight, Kurama ran his skilled fingers over Hiei's head. "Those lumps concern me, but you don't appear to have a concussion." He slid his hand under Hiei's chin, apologizing again when the action caused Hiei to wince. "The worst contusion is on your jaw, but that's not broken. Your legendary toughness stood you in good stead."
Toughness. A fleeting image of Hiei's own face, but distorted, grinning back at him. Then gone.
Kurama pulled off his gloves and tossed them into a waste bin. "Now where did you get these injuries?"
"Not on the way here, except for a scratch or two when I crashed through some bushes."
"Were you in a fight?"
"Don't remember."
"Did you fall out of a tree?"
"I. Don't. Fall." But Hiei knew Kurama was only playing devil's advocate.
Smell. Taste. Fleeting memory of coppery blood in his mouth. Bone, gristle. No... gone. "And I never forget," Hiei went on softly. "I am incapable of it."
"This enemy knows more about poisons than the Medicis," Kurama muttered.
True. Both Dragons down, my memory erased. The enemy has struck at will while we've only dealt them insignificant losses. And my firebird swears she didn't kill the oni that invaded our house back then---so who did?
He turned his gaze up to Kurama's. Kurama looked away.
A light tap on the door, and then Kaasan entered with a tray of assorted bottles. Kurama rose to turn on his desk lamp.
"What, no tea?" Hiei manufactured a smile for her.
"Oh, you just hush." Kaasan laid the tray on the cleaned and empty massage table, with one shuddery glance at the leaf-bound creature on Kurama's desk.
Then, noting the leaden atmosphere, she presented a far more somber face. "Shuuichi, would these be safe for Hi-chan to drink?" She indicated the bottles on the tray.
"Sports drinks?" Kurama lifted a small bottle, cracked the seal. "Good idea. He's still quite dehydrated." He handed the bottle to Hiei, who drained it at a gulp. "And perhaps we could trouble you to bring up another round when Shay-san wakes."
"It will be my privilege." Shiori stood behind them, looking over their heads at the sleeping girl. "How is she?"
"She's been de-toxified," Kurama said, "given painkillers and a sedative. Hiei himself needs rest, but he refuses to leave her side."
Kaasan slid an arm around Hiei's shoulder, managing to find one of the few uninjured spots. "You do take care of your own."
Hiei shut his eyes.
Shiori might as well have stabbed him through the heart. An insidious voice murmured to him, You weren't ready for any of this. You never asked for a mate, or offspring. All you wanted was to get out of Koenma's grasp and become stronger. You'd be better off in Makai.
After a while, Shiori stepped back to unload the tray of drinks. When she headed for the door, they waited in stony silence for her to close it behind her and go downstairs. Then Kurama spoke, short and curt. "Your wife will recover. But her Dragon---"
"It's not your fault." Something's up with Kurama. He's evasive, angry---but I lack the strength to find out why.
Hiei almost asked that the kids be brought to stay in the room with them. But he heard Kaasan, talking to Michael: "An apple, that's right! Aren't you a clever little man! Now can you tell me which is the tangerine?"
Smiling, he realized they were in good hands, then stifled a yawn.
"I'll help you to the guest room," Kurama offered.
Hiei shook his head "I'm getting in with her."
"That's an awfully small bed."
"We're an awfully small pair."
"Suit yourself. At least let me help you into bed."
"Try it and you'll discover exactly how tough I am." Hiei made his way over to Shay-san, who was curled now in fetal position. Cautiously, he slid into bed at her feet. Aching stem to stern, he couldn't raise enough ki to keep her warm, but he managed to fit himself around her.
Kurama went to the door, pausing to snap off the light. "I really do have to look in on you," he said. "So spare me the death threats. When you wake, Kaasan will have made you something to eat. And tea, if I'm any judge of character."
Hiei heard him, but could not find the energy to respond. He slept, his dreams filled with nightmare images of bloody explosions.
(To be continued: Super happy times once again)
-30-