Chapter Two

Cryptic Words and Half-Answers

It was heavy, encasing her in a steel cage and making each step a massive effort. Saber gritted her teeth as she shed the metal gauntlets and let them fall to the ground beside her. Then small hands reached down to untie the plates covering the stiff black skirts under the armor. Fingers picked at heavy leather lacings, trying to work stubborn and hard to reach knots. Saber grunted in frustration as heat filled her cheeks. I had forgotten what wearing actual armor was like, and I truly did not wear anything like this, she thought as she stared down at the black skirts that hit her about mid-calf.

Saber had acted like a man, dressed like a man, but for some reason she could not fathom the Holy Grail decided to clothe her in a dress each time she had accepted its summons. It was as if Fate had been taunting her then, stripping her of what she had worked so hard to accomplish despite her gender. Shirou's adopted father had been displeased due to the fact she had been a woman and Shirou himself had acted foolishly because of it. Sakura had been pleased with her, but Saber understood why.

Her fingers caught on the leather thong before the knot for the left plate plate finally gave. It fell to the floor with a loud crash that seemed to echo through the paper walls of the room and down the hallway. Her head jerked up and she looked around before twisting to reach the plate on her left side. Her fingers fumbled against it almost uselessly and she quietly cursed as her shoulders began to ache.

Saber had been unusual for a Servant, but there was still a shock to being brought back to life again, true life, especially after tasting the devastating power that Sakura had given her. It had felt too good to be like that, to be an utter force of destruction and to unleash her true feelings upon the world. She understood all too well Lancelot's desire to be summoned as a Berserker in the Fourth War. It would be a sweet thing to throw all your pain into madness and battle, she thought before gritting her teeth as her almost feeble efforts did nothing to release the armor plate on her left.

"Saber."

She froze at the low, male voice from behind her. She turned to look at the fellow Knight standing at the doorway with an unreadable look on his face as he folded his arms across his chest. He was still without the crimson mantle Saber was use to seeing him in, giving her a view of long, powerful arms that had a few scars littering the bronze flesh.

She jerked to her full height as her fingers stopped working at the knot, yet her cheeks burned as she eyed the right set of plates lying on the ground. Archer's state of undress had to do with him sparing Sakura's modesty while Saber was finding her armor too taxing to wear. Its blackened state was even painful to gaze upon. It was heavy and brutal, nothing honorable or pure in its sharp plates and harsh lines. It was the armor of a killer who had no qualms about who was shattered under her foot.

"It's heavy and damaged, possibly beyond repair," Saber said as her fingers ran idly over the tear in the breastplate. Something chalky and dark came up from the surface of the metal and a quick look confirmed dark red dust on pale finger tips. The small hand clinched into a fist before falling absently at Saber's side.

Archer titled his head thoughtfully at it before moving to her left side. She blinked as he dropped down to his knees and jerked the fastenings holding the plates up. She stared at him for a moment as he worked, his eyes narrowed at the task before him. "I can do this myself," she said as she started to step aside.

He smirked up at her and said, "If you move too quick Saber you might cause me to lose one of my fingers. I just got my arm back, so I'll go ahead and thank you now for being still."

"Why are you doing this?" Saber asked as he gingerly lifted the set of plates from her hip. He carefully laid it beside the first discarded set of plates before looking back at her.

He answered, "Because Emiya Shirou still needs your help."

"I doubt I can be any aid to him," she said as she looked away. No aid other than to bloody his innocent hands.

Broad shoulders shrugged as Archer answered, "Ilya and Sakura were able to resurrect him from death, but he wasn't healed."

"Then why are we back? That power should have been directed to making Shirou whole again," Saber said with a frown.

Archer looked down with a distant look in his steel colored eyes. He flexed his hand and said, "Ilya wanted her younger brother alive no matter what the circumstances or time."

"I don't understand your worlds," Saber said with a frown, "Your cryptic words are vexing, Archer. You speak as if you know me, but I have no idea who you are."

A faint smile touched his features as he said, "It's a bad habit of mine." Then he moved to her back. She froze as she felt the warmth of his hands through his armor as he began to take off the breast and back plates.

"How the hell you guys can wear such cumbersome armor is beyond me," Archer said with a grunt as her body was rocked back with the force of his efforts.

She frowned and asked, "Why do you need my aid for Shirou? You seem to have everything in control here."

"It's a good façade, but I'm just one man who really needs to learn his limits this time around," Archer said as Saber felt a lifting of weight from her back. She took a deep breath at the lack of restraint and tilted her head to look at him.

Saber gripped the black skirt of her dress and said, "Well, I am glad that you were given a second chance. I believe you proved yourself worthy of it."

The breast plate began to slip down and Archer carefully removed it as well. Saber swayed slightly at the lack of weight pulling her down. She rubbed her arm and turned to look at him still on his knees before her. It made her taller than him, but not by much and the eye contact was shockingly frank. Heat flooded Saber's cheeks as she said, "Were you someone's squire at some point? You knew how to handle that armor expertly."

"No, I was just a sheath for a sword a lifetime ago," Archer said as he rose to his feet.

Her brow furrowed at his cryptic words yet again and she sighed. "I believe it would pain you to be straightforward for once, Archer."

"It's just not the right time to reveal myself to you, Saber," he said with a slight grin that quickly vanished, "But Emiya Shirou does need your help."

Saber swallowed and asked, "What can I do to help him?"

"Stay by his side during the night," was Archer's answer as he headed for the door once again.

This isn't mine.

Archer stared at the nearly pristine piece of white cotton in his hand with a frown. Large hands tightening on the fabric and causing it to crinkle as keen eyes narrowed at it. It isn't mine. But I want it to be.

Looking down at the lightweight armor and heavy pants, Archer realized that what was on his back was all that he had. He had rounded up everyone, gotten everyone safe at home, and now he was standing in a room that he could find everything blindfolded. Despite his familiarity with everything here he knew it wasn't his.

He was misplaced. He should have been back at the Throne awaiting use as a Counter Guardian or being summoned as Archer once again. His mind was filled with records upon records that had no rhyme or reason and would take lifetimes to sort through, and he had a feeling all the blood in those pages would break his mind even more than before. He was a man out of time, in a world that was all too familiar yet all too alien.

Yet I'm free.

Archer slid the strap over his neck before tying the apron strings behind his back. A deep breath was taken before the kitchen was inventoried. A cold blast of air greeted heated skin when Archer opened the refrigerator and took stock of the ingredients inside. Without thinking, large hands began to pull out wrapped slices of meat, vegetables and milk before gathering proper spices, utensils, and pots, pans and a wok. The rice cooker was plugged in, filled, and the lid closed before the former Servant fell into familiar yet long unused patterns.

Is Rider alive too? Should I make enough for her? I have enough ingredients for large portions for all of us . . . A loud, gnawing rumble erupted from Archer's gut as he stood holding a leek in his hand. The vegetable was rested upon the carving block before a hand absently rested on the ridged stretch of armor as an empty stomach made its demands known again.

I need to make enough to take back to Rin as well, if she's awake and can eat, Archer thought as he started chopping vegetables with a real knife, not one of his own making. A pang hit him at the thought of his former Master being carried in Rider's arms, her red turtleneck soaked with her own blood. Rider had assured everyone that Rin was recovering nicely, but he needed to see her for himself.

Then there is Saber.

The image of those haunted emerald eyes looking up had burned into him as surely as the sight of her radiance that first night eons ago. That was not the Saber who pledged herself as her sword to me. Nor am I the boy who had been her Master, he thought with a shake of his head. The knife nimbly carved through heavy roots and crisp, green leaves leaving even slices in its wake.

"Archer?" a small, feminine voice said from the doorway.

He looked up to see Sakura standing there dressed in a long skirt and heavy white sweater. Violet hair was still damp and pale cheeks were still flushed from the shower. Her violet eyes looked around, down and everywhere but him. Then again the last time they had met before today he had been trying to kill her.

She was too much of a threat to Rin and there was something he couldn't put his finger on at the time. In hindsight it was just Alaya who was picking at his brain to let him know that a horror such as the Shadow was threatening humanity. Which just had pissed him off at the time, but he'd been all but powerless to stop it, but apparently he had made the right choice to graft his arm onto Emiya Shirou's.

"I've got this. I'm sure you can use a rest," he said, giving the timid girl a chance to flee from him. He looked down before gathering up his aromatics and placing them in the pot with a bit of chicken stock. The rich, earthy fragrance filled the room in puffs of steam in a way that only caused Archer's stomach to clinch even more.

Sakura said, "What happened to you?"

Archer looked up from stirring the pot and she asked again, "What happened to you?" Even though she was biting her lip slightly, her violet eyes met his and held them.

"I was an idiot," he said with a shrug.

Sakura toyed with the sleeve of her sweater and said, "But you became a hero, right?"

"Not exactly. I stupidly made a deal thinking it was something, but it turned out to be something worse and cursed myself for it," Archer answered before turning back to the refrigerator.

Sakura answered, "I'm not Nee-san. She might be able to get through your half answers, but I want the whole truth, Archer."

"So you can make sure that your sempai doesn't leave your side? If that was the case I would have killed him myself," Archer said as he met her eyes.

She frowned and said, "You wouldn't have."

"I would have without thinking twice about it. In fact, that was my wish in this," Archer replied.

Sakura frowned and said, "If you wanted to prevent whatever happened to you from happening, why not just tell him?"

"Time doesn't work like that Sakura," Archer said before turning back and checking the rice cooker, "All it does is create another reality."

She said, "Then . . . I'm glad Ilya was able to bring you back too."

He stopped and stared at her, but her violet eyed gaze was honest and her expression utterly sincere. She smiled, lighting up her whole face, and said, "Even if you're not my Sempai, I still don't want Emiya Shirou to suffer. Neither would Nee-san. She tried hiding it, but she was upset with what you did for her."

"I'm good at pissing your sister off," Archer said as he felt his own lips quirk up.

Sakura walked over to him and held out her hand. Blinking, he took it and was surprised at the firmness of her handshake. She said, "I want to thank you too. Without what you did I would have lost Sempai and it would have been my fault."

"What the Shadow was doing wasn't your fault, Sakura," Archer said with a frown as he let her hand go.

Her smile was fragile around the edges as she said, "Yes it was. It was acting on what I wanted. I was angry at Nee-san. It would have killed her. I wanted Sempai unable to fight anymore but alive. It took his arm. Yet you sacrificed yourself so Nee-san lived and Sempai had the power to fight for me."

"The majority will always win over the minority, Sakura," Archer said with a shake of his head.

She headed over to check on some beef he had stewing and shook her head. As she lifted the pot her eyes met his again. She said, "And maybe you'll find your own special person someday, Archer."

I failed, yet I am still here.

Saber was sitting in perfect Japanese style beside her former Master's side. She found her gaze wandering to his bare left arm with its sleek muscles and pale skin. It was proportioned to the rest of his body, not foreign and mismatched as it had been during their last fight. She wonder how it had been possible for Archer to graft his own arm onto Shirou, but if he hadn't Shirou would have died far sooner than their confrontation in the cavern.

The redhead shifted in his sleep, reaching out for something that wasn't there. Biting her lip Saber reached over and recovered him with his blanket. There was color returning to his cheeks and he wasn't deathly still anymore. His breathing had evened out the moment she had sat beside him.

She bowed her head as she remembered forcefully telling him that she was going to sleep with him to protect him. The discussion had turned into a heated argument until Shirou all but forced her to sleep in the room beside his. It had irked her at the time, but she respected the sentiment after being in Sakura's head and seeing her memories.

A shudder ran through the young woman's small frame at the phantom feel of those things. Even though Saber's body had never been touched in such a fashion by anyone, Sakura had been violated since she was a child. The happiness Shirou granted Sakura was yet another reason Saber had been hesitant to fight him. It was just something else on her long lists of regrets and failures.

There was a slight creek and a whisper of paper sliding against paper that filled the room. Saber looked up to see a tall figure haloed from the light in the hallway standing there holding a tray. "I figured you were hungry," Archer said as he entered the room.

The rich aroma of food spiraled through her nostrils and made Saber's mouth water. Her eyes widened at the arrangement of fare on the tray that Archer had set before her. Then she closed her eyes, knowing she had done nothing to deserve such care from him. Yet the smell was too much and she turned towards it.

She picked up the chopsticks and began to eat, cursing her weakness for not letting herself waste away.

"I'll come back for the tray later," Archer said as he headed for the door.

She bit her lip and nodded, not knowing exactly what to say to him at the moment as her eyes lingered on him as he left the room.