"Which battle is worse: The one against the body, or the one against the mind? One can judge by the outcome of loss, I suppose. If you lose against pain, you pass out. If you lose against your own wits, you pass out, and you never really wake up again."
--Chloe Roberts

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**No, I am NOT dead. It just took me a while to get around a whole bunch of sucky things happening in my life, AKA MID-SEMESTER EXAMS _; . Luckily I've been driven so insane by studying that I've retreated into my little fanfiction bubble. Or rather, my Angst-muse and Bloodmuse have escaped from their restraints and temporarily taken over the two Schoolmuses.

Okay, Just to be fair and warn you, not only were parts of this written at different times (therefore transition might sound funny and some paragraphs might sound just plain different than others), but I was listening to various scary Yu Yu Hakusho music most of the first-half writing, such as "Nightmare" and "Dark Side Stories." You have NO idea how drastically music affects me when I write while listening to it; in fact, it actually affects me more than it does Adakie, and if you're a fan of hers you'll be afraid... Just check out her story Botou Hoshi *insert shameless promo to return the favor here, not that she needs it ^_~* and you'll see what I mean.
So be prepared, cuz it's gonna get twisted... More so than usual. o_O**

Gene's heart skipped a beat quite literally, and he almost choked hiding it from the others. A plan? So he had a chance! And of all people to be his only hope, it was Twilight Suzuka, the woman self-sworn to kill him. Somewhere deep inside him, he was sure he found that funny... But he'd bring it up later.

"You have?! Then spit it out, Suzuka!! Come on, we don't have any time to lose!!" Jim hollered, almost leaping to his feet but instead keeping a firm yet gentle grip on Gene's blood-soaked hand. He still hadn't noticed his gloves now matched Gene's own in color.

Suzuka's eyes locked with Jim's. "I suggest we get Gene back to the ship. I'll explain on the way."

"The ship..." Jim's head turned to the left, and his eyes squinted in the darkness to see the pale, dark outline of the Outlaw Star about a mile from where they stood.

"But... how do we get him there?"

"I'll carry him," Aisha offered as she walked towards him.

Jim turned to eye Aisha as she approached; he didn't trust her with anything breakable whatsoever, let alone the closest person in his life while he held on by a thread. But when he saw her he started; instead of her usual light air, Aisha walked with a steady focused tread, and she kneeled down wordlessly to carefully gather the blood-soaked figure in her arms.

After she had completely risen with Gene's body held securely by her strength, her eyes suddenly moved to meet Jim's own. In an instant, everything flowed from green to blue. She was serious. She wouldn't hurt Gene in any way that wasn't necessary, no matter what happened. She cared about this. Trust her. Leave this in her hands. She wouldn't let him or anyone else down. She promised.

After she had said this better than any words could have done, any seriousness about her was quickly drowned in a wave of her classic confidence.

"Just leave it to me!" Aisha said, winking at him with a half-smile. "I can't let him die now. Not with the Galactic Leyline still out there and this baka as my only lead!"

Jim stared at her for a second, then smiled. "All right, Aisha. Just don't drop him, okay?"

"DROP him?! Ugh... can't you give me more credit than that?!" Aisha groaned, and she almost spun to whack Jim upside his head but thought better of it, seeing as though she had a dying man in her hands.

Jim sighed, still smiling, but it faded. "All right... let's go."

Aisha nodded, said "I'll go on ahead, the faster and steadier this is done the better," and then took off towards the XGP.

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The grass blurred into a simple blanket of dark green under Gene's vision as he felt the breeze of the night air against his body. Actually, he could barely see anything clearly, and that bothered him; it meant either Aisha was going dangerously fast, or he was going to pass out soon.

He found himself believing both, but he didn't blame Aisha for the first. He must look that terrible; in fact, there was no question about it.

He was shot in his legs God knew how many times, and each wound irradiated a terrible throb with each seizure of pain as his flesh tightened and relaxed around the bitterly cold bullets imbedded deeply inside of him. On top of that, he had been stabbed about three times, grazed five, and although the blade-wounds did not throb as the freezing bullets did, they perpetually burned with a sting-like poison against his muscle. His world was glazed red in their pain alone...

So why the hell did anyone find it necessary to invent something like a Scrappler? he thought, in awe of the prisoners of war who had to face its true talents before it was forbidden. He wouldn't be able to watch those torture scenes in movies ever again; he had never, EVER, felt anything nearly as painful in his entire life. It was the blade and bullet combined; the metal was ice-cold against his burning blood, and it sent shivers up and down his spine as it stung his body painfully with its chill. At the same time, waves upon waves of searing agony pulsated from the wound, his flesh aflame as seemingly billions of poisonous needles rained into it all at the same time. Hot and cold combined throbbed endlessly in time with the beating of his heart; and with each pulse his flesh constricted around the blades, sending even more powerful waves of fire into his entire being, invading his mind and heating the back of his eyes, which he rolled upward as they fluttered in the struggle to stay conscious.

He'd never look at an eggbeater the same way again.

A panic shot through him; if he laughed because of that it may very well kill him, and laughing to death would make him feel awfully stupid talking about it in the afterlife.

Luckily, he didn't have to struggle too badly with keeping himself under control, since the wind against his body died down as Aisha slowed her speed at a trained, steady pace. Eventually, they slowed perfectly to a stop in front of the door that led into the Outlaw Star; Aisha was pleased she had timed it just so they didn't have to give at all when they stopped.

"Gene, you still with me?"

She had asked this every fifteen seconds on the way, building up to 17 times already. Gene hadn't noticed how many times she had repeated herself though, since each time he heard her voice he was barely pulled back into reality.

"Nnh," was the reply. It wasn't as strong as the other 17, and that alarmed her.

"Well, that wasn't very enthusiastic. You better not speak anymore, all right? Gilliam!" Aisha shouted. "Let us in, quick! The others are coming soon."

"Yes, Aisha," was the reply. The heavy metal door slid to the side, and a small metal cylinder with eyeballs was revealed on the other side of it. If any shred of the possibility of the thought that an AI unit could express emotion existed, then this one showed anxiety.

"I've been worried," the pink robot said as he followed her down his ramp. "Is Gene all right? What happened?"

"Everything that could possibly wound a human being, that's what happened. ...No, wait," she said suddenly as she paused in the hallway. "That missile didn't hit him."

"Goodness, what happened to the McDougal brothers?"

"They're dead. They're not a problem anymore."

A pause. "I see. And from the look of the captain, they went kicking on their way down."

Aisha made an annoyed face. "This is no time to be tactless! If I've held back, so can you! Gene'll follow 'em if you don't hurry up and tell me what to do with him until the others get back."

"That won't be necessary," Gilliam said as he swiveled to meet the rest of the group as they came running up the hall. "They're already here."

"Hey! That was fast," Aisha assessed. "Over a mile."

"Let's get him to the bed," Gilliam said. "Please follow me." He began to lead the way to the infirmary, but Suzuka's near-breathless words cut him off.

"No. We're going to the bridge."

"What? The bridge?" Aisha repeated, tilting her head.

"Yes," she replied, and turned her head to look at Melfina. "And we need to hurry."

Aisha tilted an eyebrow, but quickly spun on her heel without question and moved in the opposite direction, Jim following closely and breathlessly from the run. Suzuka remained to gaze at Melfina for just the right amount of time, and Melfina understood.

"But... I can only..." she stammered.

"It'll be enough. I'll explain everything at the bridge," Suzuka said, and took Melfina's arm on her way past her, as she had frozen.

***

"All right, what are we doing?" Jim asked as everyone filed into the room alongside the captain's seat.

"We're going to save Gene," Suzuka replied simply.

"I know that, but..."

"Specifically, we're going to take out the Scrappler and, as quickly as possible, Melfina is going to heal Gene to the highest of her power inside the ship."

"Wh... take out the Scrappler?! But how are we supposed to do that?!" Aisha nearly yelled, looking down at the metal sticking out of Gene's chest. "I thought you said..."

"I was thinking you would pull it out as quickly as you could," Suzuka explained. "We need that strength. Once it's out, it's a race for time. Melfina is to heal him past the point of mortal danger, and then he can recover from there."

Jim looked at Gene's clenched eyes as he spoke. "You don't think he'll die when we pull it out?"

Suzuka blinked and looked at Jim, whose eyes didn't stray from Gene. "It's the only chance he has... to get it out and heal quickly enough to live. There's always a risk. But if you want my opinion..." Jim looked up at her, and she looked at Gene. "No, I don't. I think he can survive."

She then looked at Aisha. "As long as it's fast enough. How quickly do you think you can pull it out? We don't want the blades ripping anything extra away; they need to cut through cleanly and take what they must."

Aisha looked down at the wound, noting the length of the rod she would grip, thankful a smooth, long cylinder was needed to slide inside the barrel of the gun.

"It seems long enough to get a good grip... his body's tightened around it already, and some of the blood has dried. I'm pretty sure I can pull it out fast enough anyway, but..."

Gene slowly opened his eyes, in time enough to meet Aisha's. "It's going to hurt real bad, Gene Starwind. Odds are it'll tear a while before it gives way and fires out, and I'll probably recoil from it. That's how deep in it is. You might pass out.

You wanna do this?"

It was a question spoken simply. But all eyes turned to fill his fading ones when he was silent at the question.

Did he?

He closed his eyes. He couldn't imagine hurting more than this, but apparently that next level existed, and the only way out of this was to go straight through it. But was it necessary? What did he have to achieve? He'd already found his enemy, and killed him... he'd found a girl, or something close enough to fool his heart at least. And he really had no plan, no great future layout for himself...

Hadn't he, ever since his father died, been walking on a thin tightrope his entire life, where only one tempting tilt to either side would end it all? Hadn't he, soon after he had been rescued from drifting in space after that attack, had his stomach pumped twice? And after he had made it out on his own, how many times had he gone to bed gazing at his blade for a bit too long... or later, running his coarse fingers along the cool barrel of the pistol he always kept near him? How many times had he wondered, "How much longer will I just keep on going, just moving around in his backwater planet, playing out this life that's dead?" Wasn't this his chance to pull the curtain?

Apparently, he had been thinking about his question too long.

"...Gene?"

He opened his eyes. He looked at the voice, Melfina, who was near tears. It was as if she was reading his thoughts.

"D... don't give up now, Gene..."

He blinked. Oh yeah. She knows about all this, since the last time she helped me out... she's the only one who does... hell, not even Jim...

He rolled his eyes over to see his partner. Hawking's brilliant blue eyes, showing age much too old for him, locked with is own. What he saw was yet another wave of shock.

Jim looked dead worried. Confused, too; his aniki, when Aisha asked "You wanna do this?" was supposed to immediately say "What're we waiting for, a funeral?!" and keep fighting to the end like he always did. He wasn't actually supposed to THINK about it. Jim knew him so well, and the instant he didn't reply, he knew something was wrong.

Wrong, eh? Was it wrong for him to die? Wait, let's think about this. Now that he DID think about it, he had to admit his life had changed since before, and he had no immediate desire to end it. He had let go of his past; Hilda had literally forced him to. He had killed his most hated enemy; McDougal wouldn't haunt his dreams ever again.

He had things to live for, too. He had found someone to share his heart with; he needed to actually do so. And he still needed a dream to chase... if someone tattooed it up and down his other arm and branded it on his forehead to boot, the Galactic Leyline couldn't have been more obvious. He had friends, and a little brother to take care of, right?
To hell with suicide, because that's what stopping now was. And to hell with giving up.

*Screw this. I ain't dying now.*

"I'm ready. Let's go. No mercy."

The air changed, and Aisha lowered him down to his feet, while Suzuka moved to hold him in her place. She moved into position in front of him, and after getting her desired angle, Aisha stared right into Gene's eyes, and the determination from both beings melted together into a powerful force, fed by the life of the ones around them as well. She nodded.

"Yosh'. Remember, you said no mercy."

Gene nodded, grit his teeth, and braced himself.

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Hmm... _ Didn't edit the second half at all. Well, tell me what sucked about it and what didn't. The reason it's so weird? All my muses have cordially restrained their powers by caging themselves in anti-spirit wards, all but my two Schoolmuses. This is a good thing; this means I might pass my exams. This chapter was a freak muse-escape incident; two to be exact, my Detmuse (Detail Muse, named Breathless) and my Angst-muse (No-name... that's her name -_-; ). Geez, when those two work together... luckily they have restrained themselves again, so my poor overworked Schoolmuses can get back to work (Einstein and Tayer).

ANYWAY, next chapter is gonna be yet another trial for everybody. There's another attack going on! Pirates?! How did they know Gene would be down!? Get ready for a drastic slide, from suicide angst to physical TORTURE! How's a wounded outlaw expected to fight after something like makeshift Scrappler surgery?! You'd better get ready for the RETURN OF MY MUSES!!

PS: Especially my Bloodmuse. Sanji... That thing is brewing in its cage. I think it's gonna take over as soon as it's let out... *Sanji growls at her hungrily, thinking: Thursday afternoon. You're aaallllllll mine, Thursday afternoon...* iiieeeee...