Purity of Essence - Chapter 5 - The Broiler
Purity of Essence
By Wrin Chikaya

Chapter 5 - The Broiler

"I would rather rescue at the gates of Hell than to live beside those chapel bells."

AndrAIa eyed Matrix quietly. His eyes were centered on one point. He was cleaning Gun in his lap, and its muzzle was what captivated his attention so thoroughly. She tapped her fingers on her arm. He'd changed.

Not really in large ways; she still loved him with every fibre in her body, though it seemed she never saw him anymore. It scared her, marginally; his rage seemed muted, cut with a substance that kept it from exploding. AndrAIa had any guess as to what substance this was, though she wasn't vain enough to believe her company had much effect to this end. It seemed often as if she was holding him back, had him tied, even. She breathed deeply a few times, trying to calm the rising swell of frustration in her chest; she found herself doing that a lot lately.

He shifted in his chair.

He'd become more violent; more like he was in the Games when he'd nearly lost hope of ever coming home. Sometimes, though not often, this violence was seen by AndrAIa. At first, when they were younger, she used to wonder why he'd sneak off and come back with his fists scuffed, until she figured out that he took his frustration out physically.

He wasn't like Dot in this sense, he couldn't take his frustration out by throwing himself into his work. Even as a Guardian he was second-rate, only a Cadet and never with any formal training. He'd shoved that persona aside completely as of late.

Almost making things worse, though not really purposefully, was little Enzo. The young boy of Enzo's past (sometimes that he'd like to give everything to forget) almost seemed to remind Matrix of the shortcomings he'd experienced. Since the younger Guardian had grown tired of the company of Mouse, he'd decided his best option would be to spend time with his older self, of course, completely oblivious to the things that had been happening.

He was a bright kid, just not too quick.

AndrAIa tried to teach him as best she could; she found it awkward that he had an almost hero-worship complex with her; much as he had had with Bob. She seemed to be Bob's close second in his eyes, and his favorite questions to ask were concerning the Games. Always the Games. AndrAIa remembered them with the same lack of fondness a refugee has for the place he escaped from. She passed this bitterness on to Enzo, inadvertently, and Enzo half-wanted to believe her, and half-disbelieved that the Games could ever have been anything but fun.

Then again, he'd never been in a Game without Bob. AndrAIa often looked at him in dismay when he commented on how much fun Games were with Bob. It was difficult to keep it in his mind that a Game has no way of escape, and is a constant battle for life and death.

Matrix had had very little influence on Enzo. Very few people had any influence on Enzo. Matrix, on the other hand, had wanted to have nothing to do with the small sprite. AndrAIa sometimes speculated to herself whether this had anything to do with the fact that Matrix despised what he used to be, and being faced with such a thing made him uneasy.

Truly, and indeed, such situations should not have been possible.

But it had come to appear.

AndrAIa tapped Matrix gently on the shoulder. "Love?"

Matrix grunted in reply.

"Matrix, I'm going to the Data Slides with Enzo. Do you want to come?"

No reply.

"Matrix, I don't want to fight with you; you need to get out of the house."

No reply.

"Enzo."

"Call me Matrix," he grunted.

"No, you're being childish."

Matrix spun in the chair and glared at AndrAIa with a fury she'd never seen directed at her before. Fear tightened in her chest for a moment-- but only a moment.

"Childish?! I'm being CHILDISH?!" he screamed. AndrAIa's eyes widened and a knot rose in her chest. Staring him in the face, she became less aware of whether it would be more appropriate to snarl at him and finish the fight she had started or just leave.

It was when he lunged at her, his eye clouded, and shoved her aside to storm into the bedroom and slam the door that her options became clearer. She picked up her coat, grabbed Enzo's hat and left the apartment.

The smaller Enzo stared at AndrAIa quizzically; Frisket was prancing around in circles, eager to embark on an upcoming walk. Enzo spoke: "Aunty Andi? What's going on?"

AndrAIa shivered slightly, the force of what had just happened rocking her psyche briefly. She pondered faking a happy face and leaving the younger Enzo guessing, but threw this idea down almost instantly.

"Matrix is angry."

"Aunty, I've never seen him so angry. He's usually so quiet. What happened? What did you say? What's happening?" Enzo seemed to grow more and more shaken as he saw AndrAIa's eyes cloud with a fear mixed with sadness. He wasn't quite perceptive enough to notice exactly how violently her fists were clenched together, but he saw the hard look of disorientation and desperation written on AndrAIa's face. She reached out with one hand and guided Enzo by the shoulder to her waiting motorbike. Frisket folded his ears back, and eyed the door to the apartment, as if afraid to re-enter, despite his not being allowed on the bike.

AndrAIa loved that bike. Usually they took zipboards wherever they went in Mainframe, but this appeared (to Enzo at least) to be an occasion to remember, considering AndrAIa whistled to tell Frisket he was allowed to ride with them.

The motor bubbled and roared, and she sped away as fast as she could, Enzo half-distracted by the exhilarating ride her bike provided, but a piece of his heart still focused on Matrix and his strange actions. He shivered, noting the system was about to cross into night cycle and wondering why AndrAIa hadn't brought coats for the two of them if they were going to the Data Slides.

His questions were answered when he saw them approach Bob's 8-ball apartment building and AndrAIa ring the bell to summon the occupants. She was visibly shaken, frightened, but more determined than anything else; the fear had somehow melted away, or perhaps she had folded and hidden it; either way, Enzo saw that she was going to make sure everything was okay. But why Dot's?

It was Bob who answered the door. This obviously caught AndrAIa by surprise; she jumped a little, having hoped to see Dot at the door. She recovered quickly, however, and greeted Bob politely, despite looking disheveled.

"Hi, Bob, is Dot home?"

"She's at the Principal Office.. she'll be home within a few micros. Was there anything you needed?" Bob tilted his head to one side, studying her.

AndrAIa hiccupped, and breathed deeply a few times. She must not break down in front of anybody. This was not the time. "Could we, uh... could we come in?" She hugged herself, shivering, and Enzo stared at her with a fleeting sense of insecurity.

Bob didn't hesitate a nano; though Frisket growled at him under his breath on the way in. AndrAIa pulled a blanket off of the back of the couch and wrapped herself in it. Enzo was terminally confused.

Bob looked at AndrAIa with muted concern and she made a motion with her head to get Enzo out of the room; she had no desire to frighten him. "Enzo, I doubt you want to sit around here and listen to us talk; why don't you and Frisket go into the other room and watch some .movs." Enzo eyed Bob skeptically, knowing potential boredom wasn't the only reason for Bob wanting him out of the room. Bob noted Enzo's hesitation. "I'll make you cocoa," he offered. Enzo's ears perked up. There wasn't really anything Enzo wouldn't do for chocolate.

"Alphanumeric!" he heard himself exclaim, and Frisket followed him into the den. Bob rattled around in the kitchen for a bit, then returned to AndrAIa, the sounds of The Princess Sprite playing softly in the background.

Bob sat down on the couch, across from AndrAIa. Truth be told, this was an awkward situation; Bob had found it difficult to get used to the thought of Enzo as an adult, let alone AndrAIa. She shivered in the blanket. Bob leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. His mind raced. "AndrAIa?" he finally managed.

"Bob.." she breathed, shaken. Her whole world was crumbling.

Bob rumpled his eyebrows. "AndrAIa, what happened?" he ventured.

"Matrix is completely random," she stated, with finality and ironic confidence.

Bob raised an eyebrow, and waited for AndrAIa to explain.

"Ever since Megabyte ... he's been .. so hard on himself.. I don't really know what.. what's going on in his head..." she gulpled several breaths of air, and Bob could see she was trying to prevent herself from crying. He yearned to hug her and comfort her, but decided due to the abnormal dynamic to the situation, he would leave this to Dot. "He ... he's so mad all the time.. at everything .. and so depressed.." she hiccupped. A tear trickled down her face, and Bob had an urge to brush it away, but she ignored it, and so did he. "I told him he was being childish. And he shoved me across the living room.. and so I came to bring Enzo here and drop him off. I'm afraid."

Bob opened his mouth to reply when he heard the crack of the door as it opened and Dot stepped in. "AndrAIa!" she exclaimed, before she'd even taken off her shoes. AndrAIa fought an urge to hide her face. Bob glanced at Bob, and then Dot. He stood up, hugged Dot, whispered something in her ear and then went off to the den to join Enzo.

Dot sat down next to AndrAIa. "It's Matrix," she stated.

AndrAIa nodded, the tears difficult to hold back. "I don't need such a fuss to be made over me, really, I didn't want to be fussed over like this, I don't want to be fussed over, I just wanted Enzo over here and I sort of lost my cool, I'm sorry, I can't.." AndrAIa rambled. Dot just put a hand on her shoulder to silence her.

"You're always welcome here, AndrAIa, now let's start from the beginning. What happened?"

-

Matrix stared at a point in the wall. A little black dot. It appeared to move, but didn't really move. Maybe it was the wall that was moving. Probably. Who knew. He just knew his rage was impossible to quell; or so it seemed.

He hadn't meant to hurt AndrAIa, really. He hadn't. Or he told himself that. It's just for a second, when she called him a child, he saw Megabyte. He saw red, was what he saw. His rage blinded him, and he ended up hurting the one he loved. He hung his head.

See, this seperated another partition of rage within his core. There was the dirty, aching one, the one for Megabyte. The one that was repeatedly kicking him for not deleting Megabyte in the first place, and the one that was infuriating him by reminding him he had messed up the job of deleting him the second time. He cursed inwardly; this other partition ate at him for alienating AndrAIa. But she loved him? Didn't she...?

He sighed. Did she still? After that outburst? Hadn't they been through worse? He did a quick mental calculation, and then remembered he had never raised a hand to her before. It was enough to make a sprite scream, he thought. But she had just left. And Enzo? Gah, he thought to himself. That little rodent of a sprite. He felt a pang inside; that sprite was him. Did he really have such a low opinion of himself that he had begun to hate those like him?

But he loved AndrAIa! Didn't he?

He slept on the chair that night; Gun clattered to the floor, his breaths coming heaving and heavily. He hoped, no, prayed, that she would come back... so at least he could apologize...

-

AndrAIa had cried for an indescribable amount of time. It was only when she had stopped clawing at the pillow, and her breaths stopped coming in rasps, and the tears had dried and flaked on her cheeks that Dot and Bob had stopped checking on her. Frisket had nosed his way under the covers to stay in her arms, trying to somehow (in his own doglike way) comfort her by giving her something to occupy that space. Enzo was just frightened that this rugged, self-sufficient, independent woman had broken down and cried. He had padded out of bed, mindful of the absence of Frisket (this he was not used to,) and hunted down AndrAIa.

There she was, covered by thick blankets, curled around his own red-and-gold doberman. It made him miss Frisket less, if anything. She had one arm outstretched over Frisket, appearing as if in mid-grasp. Nobody needed to guess at what she was reaching for.

And somehow, Enzo knew how she felt; it caused a cold, tensing stirring inside him to know that this person was merely a mirror image of himself.

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