Disclaimers: yadda, yadda, yadda…… you've all heard it before! The only
thing that belongs to me in this whole fic is the unknown villain, and the
unknown traitor! (That sounds really foreboding doesn't it? mwahahaha)
Thank you peeps who reviewed, I love you all!!! ^_^
Some notes to you readers: First, I have never played Xenogears before, so if something seems terribly off to you tell me! I really need to know these things. Second, at the time this story takes place Sig, Bart, and the whole rest of the crew (with Billy included, obviously) are on vacation. That's why they're on the ship. Third, I'm sorry this took so long! I get kind of lazy when I start a fic, but don't worry! I will finish this! (Of course, reviews telling me that I must finish would help… hehe) And finally, fourth on my big list of 'must tell the readers', this chapter is really about introspection, and may suck because of this. I promise, the next chapter will be a big torture chapter. (and may end up being NC-17)
Wow! That was long! I'm done talking now, so on with the story!
PS/sorry, one last thing…. ***** denotes a change in scene
A Thirst for Vengeance: Chapter Two
Chains. Cold, hard metal digging into the tender flesh of his wrists and ankles. What was going on? Billy strained to move but stopped with he felt warm blood flowing down his bare arms and smearing across his chest. Bare arms? The darkness around him was stifling, but even with the lack of light he could tell that all he wore was a tattered pair of pants.
"Comfortable?" That same voice.
Light flooded the room and Billy fought hard to keep his eyes open against the pain. He was crucified in mid-air, the chains on his wrists the only things suspending him from the ceiling. He ankles were chained as well, holding his feet in a forced stretch.
"I imagine not," a cruel laugh, "I suppose that was a silly question."
The chained man searched for the source of the cold voice in the still distinct shadows of the room, and locked his eyes on a far corner when he saw movement. Something flashed, glinting in the light, and was gone. Rage flooded Billy's thoughts at the cowardice that his captor displayed, not even showing himself to his chained victim.
"Where are you?" His angry cry echoed in the seemingly empty room. He narrowed his eyes.
"You want to know where I am?" Searing pain tore across the boy's bare back, the tearing and burning nearly knocking Billy unconscious. He bit back a cry of pain.
"You're a strong one, aren't you?" The voice sounded disappointed, almost angry. "No screams? Oh well, we can fix that."
Agonized screams cut through the night air, echoing in the desolate corridors of the desert compound.
"Bart, help me…"
************************************************************************
Bart, help me…
Bart's head snapped up from it's resting place on Sigurd's desk. He listened hard, but that cry, that heart-wrenching scream, was gone. He sighed for about the fortieth time that night and let his head fall back to the desk.
"Bartolomei?" Once again Bart was awakened from his reverie, but this time the voice that was calling him was coming from someone he could see.
"Sig." His voice came out as a sigh, his one bright blue eye opening lazily.
The older man sighed as well, taking in the scene before him with a sad glance. His younger brother rested listlessly against his mahogany desk, blonde braid dangling off the edge. His eye, that shockingly blue orb that identified him as a Fatima, was wet with unshed tears. He had known that their Etone friend had had a special relationship with Bart, but he had never though that the future king would be so devastated over the loss of someone that teased him constantly. But then again, the thought of Billy being in love with his younger brother had never crossed his mind either.
Maybe Bart felt the same way.
"Sig?" He looked up at the sound of his name. Bart was looking at him like he was in another world. "Where'd you go?"
"Sorry, I was just thinking." The silver haired man took a seat beside Bart, pulling the chair forward so that he could rest a hand on his brother's shoulder. "It seems that you were busy doing the same."
Another sigh. Bart turned away, trying to hide the tears that were sliding down his cheek. How unlike him. Bart, the rash pirate that kept everyone guessing, acting like a woman. He laughed at that; his chuckle sounding forced even to his ears. "Yeah. This whole think just bothers me."
"I see, would you like someone to talk to?"
"Talk to?" He spat those words, sarcasm and anger infusing his tone with menace. "Billy has been kidnapped, is probably dead, and you want me to TALK?!" Bart saw too late the hurt look on his brother's face. Before he knew that his last words had come out as a yell Sigurd had stood and backhanded him.
"You think this is easy for the rest of us?" Sigurd hissed as Bart's hand made it's way to his bruised face. He softened as he saw the tear tracks down the fair cheeks, wishing that he could take back the blow. "I'm sorry Bart, it's just that…"
"It's ok." Bart's shaky voice interrupted his apology. "I should be the one apologizing, I don't know what came over me. It's just that I feel like I lost the only thing in the world that mattered, and I don't why I miss him so much!" He choked down a sob at the last words, not wanting to show anymore weakness. A strong arm encircled his shoulder and he could barely hold it in anymore.
"That tends to happen when we lose the one we love." He let his words sink in as he gently brushed his brother's hair with his gloved hand. After a few minutes the body in his arms relaxed a little, though Sigurd still sensed that his little brother was not going to cry anymore in front of him.
"Sigurd?"
"Hm?" He looked down at the blonde haired youth. A slightly red eye gazed back up at him.
"What did you just say?"
The taller man chuckled. "I said, that tends to happen when we lose the one we love."
Bart sat still for a few moments, processing what his elder brother had said. "The one I love?"
"Yes, Billy. The one you love."
"I don't love Billy!" the blonde haired boy sputtered, pulling back from his brother's arms.
"Uh-huh. Then why were you crying?"
Bart looked blankly at him for a while. Then the brightest blush Sigurd had ever seen spread across the young prince's cheeks. "Crying? Come on Sig, since when did I cry? It doesn't fit a pirate." Sigurd tried, rather unsuccessfully, to hold back a chuckle.
"I don't see what's so funny," Bart hissed, "it's not like he loves me back or anything."
Sigurd was shocked by the admission in that statement and also by how blind his brother must be. Maybe Billy should have sent flowers, he mused. He was about to admonish Bart for being so clueless, but realized that he too had failed to notice Billy's feelings. Or Bart's, f or that matter.
"…and even if he did, there's not really anything we could do about it. I do have to marry Margie after all…"
Sigurd sighed. "I think Margie would understand if you just explained." He knew that Margie would understand, but he also knew that Bart would never even think of talking to Margie about Billy unless he gave him reason enough to. "Don't you want to be with Billy?"
Pain crossed like a cloud over the sun haired youth's bright eyes. Did he? Billy had been through so much, and Bart had never done anything but make it worse. "Do you remember when Billy told us about the whole male prostitute thing? I'm afraid that I'd end up doing the same thing, that he wouldn't want me..."
"Stop talking like that!" Sigurd snapped, realizing where his younger brother was going with this. "He loves you, more than anything. Take it from me," he added, seeing the incredulous look on Bart's face, "he would do anything for you. He has never seen you like that Bart, not even for a second. You think you can make him feel like that little boy who almost took money for other's pleasure? You can't."
'Really?" He looked down at Bart, who was staring at the floor.
"Yes, really."
"I wish you were right." Bart looked up at his brother's kind face, a smile threatening to break through his angry facade. If only Sigurd could be right, everything would be perfect.
When they got Billy back, that was. The realization of just where they were and what had just happened brought him back to reality. He gasped, trying to stop from grabbing his beloved whip and beating the nearest piece of furniture with it. The frustration that had been building inside of him threatened to break out with every mention of the Etone's name. What was he going to do, what could he do?
The silver haired man, seeing that his younger brother was about to break something, was about to give some comfort to Bart when a crewman burst into the room.
"Yes?"
With a hasty salute the officer handed an official looking document over and left the room with a more than relieved sigh. Nobody wanted to be around Sigurd when things went wrong; that man could hide a nasty temper behind his tanned façade, and right about now everything was going wrong. And that was not even mentioning how far away you wanted to be when the Young Master had his hand on his whip like that.
"Ye gods…."
"What is it Sig?" Bart leaned over, pushing his hair out of his face and trying to steal a peek at the paper over Sigurd's shoulder. He saw a crest; it looked like the Fatima crest, and some other official seal. It looked like…
"Margie?!" It was the official seal of the Holy Mother of Nisan, Mother Marguerite, his little cousin Margie. He groaned, realizing that Murphy's Law had fully kicked in at this point. He was already battling himself over his feelings for the petite gunmen, and now the very obstacle that stood between him and Billy was coming for a friendly visit. "Why?"
"She says that she just wants to see us, to take a break from her duties."
Another groan, "Perfect timing."
A comforting hand was laid on Bart's shoulder and two blue eyes met. "This would be a good time to tell her."
"Tell her?" The young prince furrowed his brow in confusion, trying to fathom telling Margie about his homosexual tendencies at a time like this. "Now? We have more important things to worry about! Billy…"
"Billy will be just as heartbroken as he is now if he comes back to rejection. Come on Bartolomei, you need to sort through your own feelings, for Billy and Margie's sakes." He shook his head, silver hair waving behind him. "And you need to do it fast, Margie will be here tomorrow."
The prince sighed, rubbing his sore eyes and wishing no more than to sleep right now. Why must everything in his life go wrong at once? He saw again that look on Billy's face, the complete and utter desperation that had ravaged his fine features. Anger rose, and Bartolomei Fatima made a decision. "Sigurd, I love Billy, and nothing is going to keep me from saving him!" Sigurd stared at him, jaw nearly hitting the floor. "When Margie comes, give me an hour alone with her. I'm sorry to do this to her, but it must be done and fast. In the meantime, I want someone to research all of my enemies." He snarled, eyes glinting with hatred and hands twitching at his sides, "and find out who has Billy."
************************************************************************
A small laugh echoed down the hallway outside of the room in which the two Fatimas conversed. So, the captain loved that weak little thing after all, and the silver haired youth had a dirty little secret that would open him up to greater torture than he had ever imagined. The figure that had been eavesdropping on Bart and Sigurd walked down that empty hallway, still laughing softly to himself.
The Master would definitely be pleased.
Some notes to you readers: First, I have never played Xenogears before, so if something seems terribly off to you tell me! I really need to know these things. Second, at the time this story takes place Sig, Bart, and the whole rest of the crew (with Billy included, obviously) are on vacation. That's why they're on the ship. Third, I'm sorry this took so long! I get kind of lazy when I start a fic, but don't worry! I will finish this! (Of course, reviews telling me that I must finish would help… hehe) And finally, fourth on my big list of 'must tell the readers', this chapter is really about introspection, and may suck because of this. I promise, the next chapter will be a big torture chapter. (and may end up being NC-17)
Wow! That was long! I'm done talking now, so on with the story!
PS/sorry, one last thing…. ***** denotes a change in scene
A Thirst for Vengeance: Chapter Two
Chains. Cold, hard metal digging into the tender flesh of his wrists and ankles. What was going on? Billy strained to move but stopped with he felt warm blood flowing down his bare arms and smearing across his chest. Bare arms? The darkness around him was stifling, but even with the lack of light he could tell that all he wore was a tattered pair of pants.
"Comfortable?" That same voice.
Light flooded the room and Billy fought hard to keep his eyes open against the pain. He was crucified in mid-air, the chains on his wrists the only things suspending him from the ceiling. He ankles were chained as well, holding his feet in a forced stretch.
"I imagine not," a cruel laugh, "I suppose that was a silly question."
The chained man searched for the source of the cold voice in the still distinct shadows of the room, and locked his eyes on a far corner when he saw movement. Something flashed, glinting in the light, and was gone. Rage flooded Billy's thoughts at the cowardice that his captor displayed, not even showing himself to his chained victim.
"Where are you?" His angry cry echoed in the seemingly empty room. He narrowed his eyes.
"You want to know where I am?" Searing pain tore across the boy's bare back, the tearing and burning nearly knocking Billy unconscious. He bit back a cry of pain.
"You're a strong one, aren't you?" The voice sounded disappointed, almost angry. "No screams? Oh well, we can fix that."
Agonized screams cut through the night air, echoing in the desolate corridors of the desert compound.
"Bart, help me…"
************************************************************************
Bart, help me…
Bart's head snapped up from it's resting place on Sigurd's desk. He listened hard, but that cry, that heart-wrenching scream, was gone. He sighed for about the fortieth time that night and let his head fall back to the desk.
"Bartolomei?" Once again Bart was awakened from his reverie, but this time the voice that was calling him was coming from someone he could see.
"Sig." His voice came out as a sigh, his one bright blue eye opening lazily.
The older man sighed as well, taking in the scene before him with a sad glance. His younger brother rested listlessly against his mahogany desk, blonde braid dangling off the edge. His eye, that shockingly blue orb that identified him as a Fatima, was wet with unshed tears. He had known that their Etone friend had had a special relationship with Bart, but he had never though that the future king would be so devastated over the loss of someone that teased him constantly. But then again, the thought of Billy being in love with his younger brother had never crossed his mind either.
Maybe Bart felt the same way.
"Sig?" He looked up at the sound of his name. Bart was looking at him like he was in another world. "Where'd you go?"
"Sorry, I was just thinking." The silver haired man took a seat beside Bart, pulling the chair forward so that he could rest a hand on his brother's shoulder. "It seems that you were busy doing the same."
Another sigh. Bart turned away, trying to hide the tears that were sliding down his cheek. How unlike him. Bart, the rash pirate that kept everyone guessing, acting like a woman. He laughed at that; his chuckle sounding forced even to his ears. "Yeah. This whole think just bothers me."
"I see, would you like someone to talk to?"
"Talk to?" He spat those words, sarcasm and anger infusing his tone with menace. "Billy has been kidnapped, is probably dead, and you want me to TALK?!" Bart saw too late the hurt look on his brother's face. Before he knew that his last words had come out as a yell Sigurd had stood and backhanded him.
"You think this is easy for the rest of us?" Sigurd hissed as Bart's hand made it's way to his bruised face. He softened as he saw the tear tracks down the fair cheeks, wishing that he could take back the blow. "I'm sorry Bart, it's just that…"
"It's ok." Bart's shaky voice interrupted his apology. "I should be the one apologizing, I don't know what came over me. It's just that I feel like I lost the only thing in the world that mattered, and I don't why I miss him so much!" He choked down a sob at the last words, not wanting to show anymore weakness. A strong arm encircled his shoulder and he could barely hold it in anymore.
"That tends to happen when we lose the one we love." He let his words sink in as he gently brushed his brother's hair with his gloved hand. After a few minutes the body in his arms relaxed a little, though Sigurd still sensed that his little brother was not going to cry anymore in front of him.
"Sigurd?"
"Hm?" He looked down at the blonde haired youth. A slightly red eye gazed back up at him.
"What did you just say?"
The taller man chuckled. "I said, that tends to happen when we lose the one we love."
Bart sat still for a few moments, processing what his elder brother had said. "The one I love?"
"Yes, Billy. The one you love."
"I don't love Billy!" the blonde haired boy sputtered, pulling back from his brother's arms.
"Uh-huh. Then why were you crying?"
Bart looked blankly at him for a while. Then the brightest blush Sigurd had ever seen spread across the young prince's cheeks. "Crying? Come on Sig, since when did I cry? It doesn't fit a pirate." Sigurd tried, rather unsuccessfully, to hold back a chuckle.
"I don't see what's so funny," Bart hissed, "it's not like he loves me back or anything."
Sigurd was shocked by the admission in that statement and also by how blind his brother must be. Maybe Billy should have sent flowers, he mused. He was about to admonish Bart for being so clueless, but realized that he too had failed to notice Billy's feelings. Or Bart's, f or that matter.
"…and even if he did, there's not really anything we could do about it. I do have to marry Margie after all…"
Sigurd sighed. "I think Margie would understand if you just explained." He knew that Margie would understand, but he also knew that Bart would never even think of talking to Margie about Billy unless he gave him reason enough to. "Don't you want to be with Billy?"
Pain crossed like a cloud over the sun haired youth's bright eyes. Did he? Billy had been through so much, and Bart had never done anything but make it worse. "Do you remember when Billy told us about the whole male prostitute thing? I'm afraid that I'd end up doing the same thing, that he wouldn't want me..."
"Stop talking like that!" Sigurd snapped, realizing where his younger brother was going with this. "He loves you, more than anything. Take it from me," he added, seeing the incredulous look on Bart's face, "he would do anything for you. He has never seen you like that Bart, not even for a second. You think you can make him feel like that little boy who almost took money for other's pleasure? You can't."
'Really?" He looked down at Bart, who was staring at the floor.
"Yes, really."
"I wish you were right." Bart looked up at his brother's kind face, a smile threatening to break through his angry facade. If only Sigurd could be right, everything would be perfect.
When they got Billy back, that was. The realization of just where they were and what had just happened brought him back to reality. He gasped, trying to stop from grabbing his beloved whip and beating the nearest piece of furniture with it. The frustration that had been building inside of him threatened to break out with every mention of the Etone's name. What was he going to do, what could he do?
The silver haired man, seeing that his younger brother was about to break something, was about to give some comfort to Bart when a crewman burst into the room.
"Yes?"
With a hasty salute the officer handed an official looking document over and left the room with a more than relieved sigh. Nobody wanted to be around Sigurd when things went wrong; that man could hide a nasty temper behind his tanned façade, and right about now everything was going wrong. And that was not even mentioning how far away you wanted to be when the Young Master had his hand on his whip like that.
"Ye gods…."
"What is it Sig?" Bart leaned over, pushing his hair out of his face and trying to steal a peek at the paper over Sigurd's shoulder. He saw a crest; it looked like the Fatima crest, and some other official seal. It looked like…
"Margie?!" It was the official seal of the Holy Mother of Nisan, Mother Marguerite, his little cousin Margie. He groaned, realizing that Murphy's Law had fully kicked in at this point. He was already battling himself over his feelings for the petite gunmen, and now the very obstacle that stood between him and Billy was coming for a friendly visit. "Why?"
"She says that she just wants to see us, to take a break from her duties."
Another groan, "Perfect timing."
A comforting hand was laid on Bart's shoulder and two blue eyes met. "This would be a good time to tell her."
"Tell her?" The young prince furrowed his brow in confusion, trying to fathom telling Margie about his homosexual tendencies at a time like this. "Now? We have more important things to worry about! Billy…"
"Billy will be just as heartbroken as he is now if he comes back to rejection. Come on Bartolomei, you need to sort through your own feelings, for Billy and Margie's sakes." He shook his head, silver hair waving behind him. "And you need to do it fast, Margie will be here tomorrow."
The prince sighed, rubbing his sore eyes and wishing no more than to sleep right now. Why must everything in his life go wrong at once? He saw again that look on Billy's face, the complete and utter desperation that had ravaged his fine features. Anger rose, and Bartolomei Fatima made a decision. "Sigurd, I love Billy, and nothing is going to keep me from saving him!" Sigurd stared at him, jaw nearly hitting the floor. "When Margie comes, give me an hour alone with her. I'm sorry to do this to her, but it must be done and fast. In the meantime, I want someone to research all of my enemies." He snarled, eyes glinting with hatred and hands twitching at his sides, "and find out who has Billy."
************************************************************************
A small laugh echoed down the hallway outside of the room in which the two Fatimas conversed. So, the captain loved that weak little thing after all, and the silver haired youth had a dirty little secret that would open him up to greater torture than he had ever imagined. The figure that had been eavesdropping on Bart and Sigurd walked down that empty hallway, still laughing softly to himself.
The Master would definitely be pleased.