Disclaimer: No I still don't own Dark Angel!
Notes: How delightful it is to have finally finished this extra long chapter! I had never
intended for it to be so much longer, but it just seemed like so much had to be
accomplished in this chapter and I didn't want to rush anything. Okay then! Well, as
usual keep reviewing because it makes me almost scarily happy for days!
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...The Unspoken...
...by Plastic Female Plaything...
...plasticteenprototype@earthlink.net...
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Seven days. For the day to exist again was a blessing, even if her eyes could not truly
detect it's presence. She may have not been able to measure the passing of time by the
rising and setting of the sun, but there were other ways for her. She awoke every morning
at the sound of the birds breaking into the first of many fresh morning songs. She
measured it with the sun's warmth on her face and body. But she measured it most of all
with those who had rescued her and kept her close to them still.
For seven days everything was perfect.
Oh blissful seven days, seven days where they asked no mouth-words of her save the
ones that she gave them freely and of her own accord. She seldom gave them her words
and even then they were not great in amount. Only one or two, here and there. A yes
word. A no word. She only gave what was needed, nothing more, nothing less. Her
mouth-words fell tediously from her and sat heavy and unmoving on the air. The edges of
these words were harsh with sharp edges in her ears, not as pleasing as the mouth-noise
of the two others. Her ears welcomed their words, for they were quick and light in the air,
pliant and delicate in he ears.
At first she was not strong enough to run with them, for they were running without
significant pause. Always running. But as she grew to recognize the more subtle signs of
daylight and regain a more proficient use of her legs, they began to stop for the entirety of
the night for rest. She could tell from their faint mind-noise that the constant strain that
they had been placing themselves under was beginning to take its toll upon their bodies.
It became necessary for them to leave her on her own for short periods of time to obtain
food. They never asked her to go with them and she never followed. She liked this. No
words spoken, just the knowledge of what was expected of another. Once one of them
approached her after one of these trips with her share of the food, and new clothing to
replace her long outgrown uniform, dirty from the neglect that the cell had forced upon
her. His mind-noise was hesitant, almost fearing that she would not appreciate this gift.
Oh but she did. She took them with out words and dressed herself in them, but she
approached him later and thanked him with small mouth-words for his thoughtfulness.
She knew that she was of no value to them, with her sightless eyes and child-like
strength. Yet, regardless of her faults, their mind-noise told her of a strange but genuine
pleasure in seeing to her well being. It was this that confused her the worst of all. She
understood caring for another of your unit, but she was not part of their unit. No, their
mind-noise told her of something deeper, something that they themselves did not quite
understand, yet accepted. She tried to accept it too, but something inside of her thought
often of their pleasure taken at her good health. They both made mind-noise daily about
her improving appearance. She looks more and more human every day, they say.
Human? She knows she is not human. In the before time they told her that her body was
made of many things. They told her that an animal called "cat" was a great part of her.
They showed her a picture of a cat. She didn't understand. Her skin had no fur, like this
cat beast. She had no claws, she did not walk using all four limbs, she had no tail. Yet,
they insisted this animal was a part of her. She didn't understand then, but she grew to
think that perhaps she had come to an understanding now. But it wasn't so much an
understanding as it was an acceptance. They said her outside form was returning to
human. She was made of many things. It made a strange sense to her that she might have
taken on the appearance of another part of her that was not human while was the victim
of the cell.
She didn't really understand at all.
For seven days she was appreciative of their care for her. Under their watchful attention,
she grew strong enough to run beside them for short allotments of time. Every day she
would run with them for longer and longer. She could tell that this pleased them so she
pushed herself until she felt as though she might break apart. When she felt like this,
when she felt she could not take another step, she used the word that was the first word
she had spoken to them.
"Help."
One of them would pick her up then and run with her until she requested to be placed on
the ground to once again run beside them. It was easier for her to run when her sight
began to return to her. It was very slow and obscure, but it was better than the absolute
darkness of before. She still did not know color, but was confidant that this particular
ability would return to her soon. This progress pleased her, but she could not stop
wishing for the day when she would once again know color.
For seven days she was happy.
Having never really known true happiness before, she naively wished it be with her
forever. She foresaw nothing that could bring her joy to an end, so she did not let any
apprehension cast dark clouds on her bright mind-noise. A lesson to be learned by all is
that foresight is blind and never to be trusted to see a true image of the future. A lesson
that would soon come to her, because after her seven days in which she knew her first
happiness, the questions came.
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She knew they wished to know more of her, but she was taken aback by the intensity of
the desire of the taller male to know why she had been the prisoner of the cell. Now that
she once again knew time, it became apparent that she had endured the sempiternity of
the cell for a more time than she had ever imagined previously. The smaller of the two
had also made mind-noise that spoke of his wish to know why, but the taller was
voracious in his quest for the knowledge of the darkness in her life. She would not
answer him when he pressed his questions to her. She couldn't make mouth-words about
the cell; to do so she knew would be akin to physical pain for her. She hoped that the
taller would stop asking her, but her hopes were in vain. The smaller tried to dissuade the
taller from his tenacious questions, but it was of no avail.
It was as if the smaller anticipated the distress that these words would bring her. After the
taller was finished with his daily questioning, she would place her hand on the smaller's
arm and give him two mouth words.
"Thank you."
He never made mouth-noise back to her, but his mind-noise spoke of such satisfaction in
these two simple words that it pleased her to give them to him every day because the
gratification of his reaction never dimmed in its intensity. Every day she meant these
words more and more for the taller grew greatly frustrated with her to refusal to make
mouth-words with him. However futile the smaller's attempts may have been in its
effectiveness to thwart the inevitable questions, it was always meant with such a genuine
sincerity that she was always grateful for it.
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It was not long until the taller could no longer bear her refusal.
The day began as any other day did.
It passed as any other day did.
It would have ended as any other day did, if it had not been for the questions.
They were all the same inquiries that he had made before and she hardened herself
against them. She made herself as unmovable as mountain, as frozen as ice. His mind-
noise was louder than ever that day and, for the first time since she left the prison walls of
Manticore, fear filled her.
She was right to fear.
He flung himself at her and pinned her against a tree. She sensed his movement before he
made it, as she always did. It had been the reason they had given her the gift. The ability
to sense your opponents attacks before they even made them. The ability to invade their
very thoughts. It made her a terrible weapon. Those at Manticore though she would theirs
to use and dispose of. She didn't let them use her and the price of her defiance was more
than she could have ever anticipated. Yet, even with her gift, she made no move to stop
his actions against her. She was unmovable. She was stone. She was-
"State your designation, soldier!"
He had never asked this question.
Before she even had the time to think she felt her mouth open and words involuntarily
leave it.
"X5-491, sir!"
The taller's hands left her body then she fell heavy to the ground. Her hands flew to her
mouth and pressed hard against it, as if to hold in any other words that would leave it as
unexpectedly as the first set. Where had those mouth-words came from? One hand left
her mouth and pressed itself to the back of her neck to cover her barcode as the images
flooded her mind.
@@@
"State your designation!"
"X5-491, sir!"
"I'm pleased with your progress, 491. We have great expectations from you."
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491
491
491
Designation.
Discipline.
Loyalty.
Resistance.
Betrayal.
Song.
Pain.
The Cell.
It would always come back to the cell. The doctors had called her 491. Her unit had
called her 491. The dark minded man had called her 491.
Those who had confined her, had imprisoned her, had broken her until her songs had died
within her; they had all called her this.
She had tried to forget. So hard to forget. She hated these numbers. Numbers. She'd
always hated numbers. She looked into the faces of those who had saved her, heard their
mind-noise and knew that these numbers were more her enemy now then were ever in the
past. For now those who had cared for her knew. With three simple little numbers they
knew who she was. They knew what she had done. They knew why she had been in the
cell. They knew of those that had died at her hands. And she knew of their fear.
Fear. She had known this fear before. It was a fear of her and what her gift made her
capable of.
They had backed away from her, stance and eyes telling her everything she needed to
know. With her raspy, wheezing voice she said the words that were in her mind.
"You know now. You-you fear me."
She knew what she must do. She ran. She ran as fast as her still sickly body would allow
her. She ran as fast as she could with her vision being nothing more than obscurely vague
gray shapes.
She ran.
And they did not follow her.
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She couldn't cover very much ground before her legs began to feel the strain of her
excessive employment of them. As the daylight began to fade, so did her slowly bettering
vision. She was left in the dark again. She could not deny that it was impossible for her to
continue on safely.
She kneeled down on the ground and held her hands out in what any other would
consider a position of prayer. In some strange way, what she did then was strangely akin
to a prayer. It was a simple wish, a wish that they would not follow her. She had not
heard their footsteps at all in her flight, but she had not been cautious enough to be sure.
Her body shook, but not with tears. No, she shook with fear. There were two now who
knew who she was. What she was. What she could do. It hadn't even occurred to her that
these fellow transgenics would turn so easily on her, but she reasoned that the signs had
been there all along. Part of her own unit turned on her. She killed them. She prayed
without knowing how that she would not kill these two.
Was there no one group of which she might belong?
Where could she go?
Who could she turn to?
She was not so absorbed in her fear that she missed the far off noise in her ears. A voice.
Male. Mind-noise, she guessed. She strained herself to hear. Maybe this voice could help
her? She wouldn't let what happened before happen again. She would not let this new
voice know of her past. She would not-
It hit her harder than any slap the dark minded man had bestowed upon her.
This was the smaller's mind-noise!
She strained her mind almost to its breaking point to hear the mind-voice of this former
comrade. She was frantic. Were they coming for her? Would they try to kill her? She
knew she was not strong enough now to fight them both off. Nor was she strong enough
to out run them, especially with darkness around her. So she listened. The tone was once
of urgency. He and the taller were attempting to find the rest of their unit. She became
confused. Why had they not tried to seek out their unit when she was with them? She
listened harder. They knew it was their duty to warn as many as possible.
She tensed. What was this danger near that they would warn their unit of? She prepared
herself to flee once again.
No.
The danger the smaller's mind-noise spoke of was her.
They were going to warn others of her.
The danger was her.
She was the danger.
They would come with more numbers to kill her
Those who had once do diligently cared for her would feel her neck snap beneath their
careless hands, just as she had felt so many years ago.
Would they be confined as she had?
Would her mind-screams haunt their dreams?
No.
They would exonerate her death and their dreams her not be filled with her screams.
She must not let this happen.
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It was easy to find them.
It was even easier to track them.
She had to do so for two days before the opportunity presented itself in the form of the
smaller sleeping and the taller keeping watch. Even in her weakened state, tracking
something was her strong point. She could follow from a long distance, the mind-noise of
her victims telling her everything that her eyes could not.
It was easy to drop from the tree onto the taller and hear his mind-scream as her frail
fingers snapped his neck.
But it was harder to lay her hands upon the smaller with such an intent to kill.
She kneeled for hours over him, her hair grown long almost brushing against his chest in
a whispering caress, striving to put her hands around his neck, yet withdrawing them
every time, just before they came in contact with his skin. He was the first to show an
indisputable compassion towards her, and she would remember him always for this. But
she could not let him live if it meant her death. Yet still, she could also not bring herself
to set this course of action in place. But in the end, she didn't have to. The course was set
as soon as the smaller opened his eyes.
He didn't say anything; he just gazed up at her. There was no fear in his face or his mind-
noise, and it was evident to her that he thought he was still dreaming.
"I will always remember your kindness. I had hoped you would understand. But you did
not."
She felt a strange, yet persistent need to give this man whom had been so admired by her,
many mouth-words. Her mouth-words had always made him so pleased in the past when
she had given them to him, and it was an overwhelming this desire inside of her for this
man to die unafraid. Not like the others whose mind-noise had cried out of confusion and
fear before their death. She touched his hair and he made a bright smiling face at her. She
continued to stroke his hair and made a bright smiling face of her own at him to sooth his
mind-noise even further.
"You make happy faces now. What face will you make when you find I am not a
dream?"
Crack!
It was done before she even thought about it. He was dead and she was safe from death.
Safe from the cell. Safe from all people, she thought. She accepted that her number name
would always be her greatest enemy and resolved to never let another know it. Safety.
His blood on her hands was the sign that her life would be free after this moment.
Sunlight filtered through the trees as the sun broke from the horizon.
She stared for a long time. She thought it could not be real. She thought that she must be
wrong. It was pale and faded at first, but grew stronger and stronger with every passing
moment until she could no longer deny its presence.
It was color.
For the first time in years, color flooded her vision slowly; still not as vivid as it would be
when her eyes were completely healed.
She remembered the color names.
No.
No!
NO!
His eyes were blue.
His blood was red.
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Her scream filled the clearing.
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To be continued...
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Woo! Chapter three took me forever to write and I'd just like to thank four people who
reviewed chapter two. So thank you, Angelkat, JoJo, Bammer and Weatherly's Evil
Clone. You guys rock! And also thanks to Nini A.K.A. The Silent Following Potato With
Downcast Eyes. Go check out her awesome Xena fic, Hands of Fate. Thanks!
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