The Fall and Rise of Creed Diskence
An Alternate Universe Redemption Fic based on Yabuki
Kentaro's Black Cat series
Black Cat and pretty near all the characters in
this story belong to Yabuki Kentaro
Author's Forward:
I will be posting author's notes at my Live Journal (username: KosagiNoLegion), so as not to take up space here. Answers to any questions or comments and various trivia involved in creating this massive piece of fanfic will be posted there. As another note, after some backing and forthing with I think I've found a satisfactory voice change oOo with long line between major scenes. Oh, and if you'd review here, even if you discuss the fic on my LJ with me, it'd be really great. Thanks!
An Old Friend of the Family
January 13, 2005
"Here is your coffee, sir." The waitress set the cup beside Creed and he gave her a friendly smile. It was one that he hoped was less childish than usual, having practiced not overdoing the sweetness that seemed to bother Naizer and Sven. Though Sven is getting used to it. Still, if he could work out a way to not irritate Naizer for the next few days it would be a good thing.
"Get me one too," a voice said behind Creed, gruff and irritated. Naizer in a grumpy mood was hardly differentiable from Naizer in his usual frame of mind, but Creed sensed more than usual aggravation. Though I can't think why. He knew I was going to get up early. Creed had pretty much expected the Chronos Number to be joining him soon. The man had opened his eyes when Creed had gotten up and given him one of the most aggravated glares he'd seen for a while.
As the waitress left the area, Naizer flopped down into the chair across from Creed and muttered something under his breath in German. Creed chose to ignore the obscenity, deciding that it was too beautiful a morning to waste with arguing. Besides, maybe if he did his best not to set Naizer off they'd avoid the squabble he feared was close to breaking. Instead he tried out his new smile on the man and asked, "Good morning, Naizer. Did you sleep well?"
Bleary eyes glared at Creed and he realized with a sinking sensation that if he'd wanted to avoid a squabble that that was apparently very much the wrong thing to ask. "No. No, I didn't, thank you very much!"
"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that." Creed tried again, without much hope of salvaging the situation. "Perhaps you should go back upstairs and try to get more sleep?"
"And leave you to your own devices? I don't think so." Naizer took the coffee the waitress brought him with barely a snarled thank you, then glared at Creed when he took up the slack, smiling up at the young woman. "And don't go around trying to make nice to people, you sociopath!"
Creed nearly froze but managed by main force not to react. "You really don't have to be so rude," he pointed out. "She didn't do anything to you. Nor have I, recently."
Another growled obscenity escaped Naizer's lips. "IT'S YOUR FAULT I DIDN'T SLEEP LAST NIGHT!" He subsided quickly as he realized that the few other patrons in the restaurant were staring at them. More quietly he hissed, "What with Train and Sven's snoring and your tossing and turning I'm lucky I managed five straight minutes."
.oOo.
It occurred to Naizer even as he growled at Creed that he'd said much the same thing before, when the man had been more a boy, fresh out of training, so wet-behind-the-ears that he squeaked and given to wandering off whenever he got bored. Which happened entirely too often. There'd been occasions when he and his team had been forced to share a room and Creed had tended to twist, turn and tangle himself up in his covers to the point of mummification, muttering and mumbling incoherently all night. Apparently some things just don't change.
Dark eyes blinked at Naizer, confused and bewildered expression turning to comprehension. "Oh. I'm so sorry. I can't help it. Doctor Jones says my body's never recovered from all the drugs they used to give me at the asylum. That's why I sleep on a pad. I fall out of bed, otherwise... Maybe you should get earplugs, the way Sven does?"
Somehow the very reasonable suggestion just angered Naizer more. The way Creed had pulled back into himself didn't help either. "The hell you can't help it. Just like you can't help all that nonsense you spout? I notice you're talking awfully clearly right now!"
Creed stiffened, pale face going whiter. "That's because it's morning. My brain works best in the morning. I just get worse the more stressed I get. The more stressed I get and..." He was trembling, in tears. "I start acting more strangely and I can't control myself as well and..."
"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! JUST SHUT THE HELL UP!"
"I CAN'T SHUT THE HELL UP WHEN YOU KEEP YELLING AT ME!" Creed yelled in return, glaring furiously at Naizer, rising from his seat, hands slapped onto the table. "ARE YOU TRYING TO MAKE ME RELAPSE? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?" His expression went from childish dismay to adult rage with terrifying speed.
It suddenly hit Naizer that he wasn't exactly paying good attention to the orders he'd been given. Sephiria had made it clear that he was there to keep this man out of trouble, after all. Keeping him out of trouble certainly didn't entail driving him into a homicidal fury. "Okay. I'll stop yelling. We're making a scene, anyway." He tried to keep his tone level, to be reasonable. "Sit down and stop fussing at me."
Very, very slowly Creed sank back into his chair. He was panting for air, struggling against some emotion. It was, apparently, a losing battle as he started to cry, descending once more into childish tears. Naizer watched, helplessly, at the wreckage that he'd caused. But, damn it, he has to do it deliberately. Doesn't he?
Somehow, despite every natural instinct in him, Naizer kept his silence, waiting for the tears to subside and hoping that they would. He had no idea how to deal with this kind of overwrought behavior. I suppose I should consider myself fortunate he didn't go ballistic on me. It was, in fact, something of a surprise that Creed hadn't. The Creed Naizer had fought before would never have been able to hold back his rage. Somewhere, somehow, Creed had learned an odd sort of control.
At last, sniffling, Creed managed to take a drink of the cold water the waitress brought over. The girl had made sure to give Naizer a look that would have frozen him solid if it'd been a Tao power. Worse that he seems to have a talent for making people like him. I can see what a brat he is. Why can't anyone else?
"I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that." Creed was looking away, as if avoiding Naizer's gaze would help the situation.
"Of course not." Naizer couldn't help but allow his disbelief to color his tone. As Creed's lips tightened over whatever sharp response he was going to make, Naizer continued, "How can you expect me to believe you?"
Creed sighed. "How am I supposed to make him understand?" he muttered and it occurred to Naizer that the man wasn't even aware of the words coming out of his mouth. His eyes raised to meet Naizer's. "I'm doing the best I can with what's left of my brain. It just doesn't get any better than this."
.oOo.
Naizer was staring blankly at Creed, a confused look on his face. "You behaved weird from before Beluga brained you," he pointed out after a moment.
Creed waved that off impatiently, hand flapping in the air between them. "No, no, no, no. My nano-machines fixed that. It's my screwed up lobotomy that they can't do anything about." He frowned, startled at the puzzled expression on Naizer's face. "Don't you remember what Eve told you?"
"She said you were brain damaged. I figured it was Beluga's hit..." Naizer was still staring at him. "You serious? A real lobotomy?"
With a shrug, Creed sighed. "A screwed up one," he agreed. "The doctor messed up."
For a long moment Naizer was silent and Creed shifted uncomfortably. There wasn't any pity in the man's eyes, but neither was there any other emotion that Creed could read. At last Naizer said, "So all the... chatter? The laughing... it's because of this... lobotomy?"
"That and four years of solitary confinement," Creed answered wryly. "Drugged out of what was left of my tiny mind." He wiped tears from his face with his wrist, then winced as he realized how childish doing so made him look.
Another thoughtful silence. "You were lobotomized... excuse me, got a failed lobotomy... before you were trained. In which case, with those four years of solitary, you had to be about twelve or thirteen. You're talking about it awfully calmly. Am I supposed to believe you?"
"You can believe me," Sven said behind Naizer. "It's true. Got proof." He sat down at the table, requested a cup of coffee from the waitress and turned to Creed. "Anything good for breakfast?"
"The waffles are nice. Very fluffy. I wouldn't recommend the buffet though. It's been sitting there for a while and there haven't been enough people to keep the food moving." Creed smiled at his housemate, relieved to see him. I am never going to complain about the way he growls at me again. He would have been hard put to figure out what the difference between Naizer's grumbling and Sven's, but there was one. "Or try the Eggs Benedict. C'est tres Americain."
Sven chuckled. "No surprise. This place is a tourist trap." He ordered the waffles and, once the waitress was gone, turned to Naizer. "Done bullying my apprentice?" As Naizer's eyebrows rose, Sven continued, "I thought I told you to leave Creed alone?"
"You didn't say anything about putting up with his weirdness. I knew he had issues but...," Naizer answered, tone defensive. "I didn't know he was missing half his brain."
Creed considered that. "Oh, no. Not half. More like a third, or maybe a quarter."
"Doctor Jones says it's about ten percent, Creed. Don't exaggerate." Sven gave him an indulgent look that took the sting of his words off. "And you do pretty good with what's left."
Creed shrugged. "Yeah, but it was an important ten percent. The part that tells me when I should stop and shut up. Without it I just keep blithering on about nothing and don't know when to..." He blinked at Naizer's expression then at Sven's. "...stop? Like now?"
With a laugh, Sven sighed. "Yes, like now. Tell you what. Eve should be coming down in a few minutes, but I bet Train's still out cold. Go upstairs, wake him up. Tell him it's time to get to work. We have a busy day of reconnaissance ahead of us. It'll take all morning to get up the mountain to that lodge." He paused, then added in a stern voice, "And don't, for God's sake, let him get you into a pillow fight again."
"I only did that once," Creed answered with dignity, getting up. "And he started it."
"I know you did and I know he did. Just don't do it again."
Creed didn't dignify the order with an answer.
.oOoOoOo.
Train slid down the banister leading to the first floor of the chalet and chuckled as Creed followed suit on the other side. I'm a bad influence, he thought with smug satisfaction. Just the sort of bad influence he needs. Creed could be so rigid at times, unwilling to just let things happen around him and go with the flow. Considering how confused and unfocused he was, with emotional storms constantly tossing him around, the ability to ride the waves rather than drown in them would be a good thing to have.
Landing on the floor, he grinned broadly at his companion. "I win."
"Hmph. You weigh more than I do, that's all. Inertia's on your side."
Train laughed. "I weigh about three pounds more than you, tops," he started to protest, only to stop as Creed turned a puzzled gaze off towards the chalet's bar. "What is it?" Someone was in there playing the piano softly.
"That's not a very polite song to be playing," Creed said reprovingly. "Eve's too young for that sort of thing and she's in the next room." As Train stared at him, the pale-haired man pushed the doors open and went in.
Following behind, Train raised a brow. It'd been a while, certainly, but he thought he recognized that pale blonde hair. What's Sheldon doing here? Apparently Creed was equally disconcerted, for he'd stopped dead half-way across the room to the piano. Both men stared at the former Hoshi No Shito member blankly, uncertain of what to do.
The musician didn't seem to have noticed his audience. Dressed in white shirtsleeves and black pants, he was bent over the piano, listening to the notes. His long, wavy, hair was pulled back from his face by a simple tie.
"That song's a bit rude, isn't it?" Creed asked after a moment. "That is from 'Meaning of Life', right?"
With a shrug, Sheldon nodded. "Would be if I were singing the words," he admitted, still frowning down at the piano. "Which is why I'm not. Drat this thing, I swear something's wrong with it."
"Don't ask me, Sheldon. I just play by rote."
Sheldon stiffened and it occurred to Train that the former Hoshi member hadn't really registered whom it was who was standing behind him. This could get interesting.
.oOo.
Sheldon stared down at his hands, almost scared to turn and look at the man behind him. It'd been a long while since he'd heard those soft, off-balance, tones. Long enough that he hadn't immediately recognized them, not so long that he could forget how disconcerting they could be. He took a deep breath. "What are you doing here, Diskence? I'm not rejoining the Hoshi. Not with you as their leader."
"Oh, no. You had every right to leave if you felt that way." Creed's tone was surprisingly matter of fact. "And I'm not rejoining them either."
That forced Sheldon to turn and stare at the man who'd once been his leader. To stare, disbelievingly, at the mad-man whose terrifying plans and hidden motivations had made Sheldon too uncomfortable to stay with the group Creed had formed - despite its intent to take down Chronos. I still want that. Just not his way.
Looking at Creed, though, Sheldon realized that something very significant had changed in the man. He's let his hair grow. Eyebrows are fuller and the clothing style's changed. Sort of pretty. Still soft featured and delicate looking, the aura of barely controlled and violent insanity was gone. Replaced by a different sort of insanity, certainly, but one far less terrifying in its implications. The Creed he'd known would kill anyone who presented a threat. This Creed would simply stare bewilderedly at an attacker.
A chuckle from the man behind Creed drew Sheldon's attention. "Heartnet?" He looked from Creed to Train Heartnet, momentarily confused, then it hit him. Creed's left the Hoshi to go with Train. It made sense. Train had been Creed's prime motivation from the first and Sheldon had long suspected that the entire world could explode and Creed wouldn't care as long as Train was safe. "This is unexpected. Well, not entirely."
Train came up to stand beside Creed. "Not entirely?"
"He," Sheldon pointed at Creed, "would follow you into hell if he had to. Would abandon heaven or break out of hell to be with you. That was part of the reason I left the Hoshi in the first place. He was doing more to try and get you on his side than in fighting Chronos." An amused smile crossed Train's face and Sheldon continued. "I'm not at all surprised that he'd quit the Hoshi to be with you. It's you letting him be with you at all that I find unexpected. Not that I think it's a bad idea. He needs a keeper."
Creed's dark eyes turned towards Train for a moment, then he smiled at Sheldon. "It's only a ghost of a chance," he said softly as Train rolled his eyes and shook his head. "A kindness, undeserved, that shall not be unrequited should I live."
Eyebrows shooting up, Sheldon blinked at his former leader. "A state of grace? Odd way to put it, but..."
"Never mind. It's a long story. The whole thing is," Train answered. "Mind telling us what you're doing here?"
Shrugging, Sheldon patted the piano. "I'm the lounge singer." He grinned at Train's expression. "It's a living. And until I figure out what to do about Chronos, a man's got to do something."
Oddly, Creed got a worried look on his face. "Oh dear. Train, his number will be up if he stays here." He turned and looked at his companion, who winced. "He should go. Now."
Train nodded. "Sven and I aren't here to Sweep you and, frankly, I don't want to try. But there's someone here who wouldn't bother with sweeping, just erase you entirely." At Sheldon's puzzled look, Train continued, "Creed is with me on sufferance from Chronos. That means we had to permit one of the Numbers to come with us on this job."
"Chanel Number Five... I mean, Chronos Number Five," Creed winced as if he'd not intended the mocking description of the Chronos agent, then continued. "He was one of the ones who attacked the castle that day you left. He'll know you."
Nodding slowly, Sheldon couldn't help but agree that departure was the better part of valor. "The bald one, right? Okay. Thanks for the warning." He got up and bowed. "I appreciate it." He looked from Train to Creed and grinned. "Later, dudes."
To Be Continued...
