Dark Angel
Chapter Three: Hanging on to Shadows
From the temple of the OrangeGoddess
~*~
Disclaimer: I do not own the Animorphs or Harry Potter characters. They belong solely to Scholastic and were written by K.A. Applegate and J. K. Rowling, respectively. To my knowledge, these events in the following work of fanfiction have not been previously used by any of writer. And no, I am not ripping of the TV show Dark Angel, nothing at all in common between the two. I'm sure the phrase existed beforehand, and so I'm using it now. So there! Ha! =)
Thank you to everyone who reviewed the first three parts of my story! *hugs* Ail, Alikat, Southernbelle14, Ruby, ~*~Muchaca~*~ , Mythos, Dark Angel (the person, apparently), Parvati Brown, sara, and my good buddy Kahlan for not only reviewing but also editing this chapter before I put it out. You all rock, ya know that? =)
This chapter starts getting a little bit darker then the original few installments. If swearing, drinking, or blood bothers you, you probably shouldn't read the rest of this! You have been fairly warned.
~*~
Bill Wesley leaned against the lamppost caddie-corner to a very ordinary looking house. Plain red brick, one story, no decoration, neatly trimmed lawn. Nothing about this house would make you think that there was anything special about the owner. After all, what kind of teenager-turned-world-leader would choose to live almost undetected for the rest of their lives when they could get anything they wanted in a spotlight life?
The long-haired wizard drew back into the shadows of a nearby wooded lawn as an unmarked white Honda in need of a good wash drove up the street from behind him. The driver was a man in his middle twenties, average length brown hair. The man's jaw had a tense, determined set to it. Matched with the tired and weary eyes, Bill felt that that Jake Berenson had become a person that he would rather not mess with out of respect to the underlying current of power and violence that clearly still ran through the veins of the ex-leader of the Animorphs.
The Honda turned slowly into the average American driveway and pulled into the average American garage. In the golden glow of the garage light Bill watched Jake Berenson get slowly out of the car, collect a briefcase and laptop from the back seat, and wearily climb the short case of cement steps up to the door into the empty house. After a second of fumbling, the young man burdened with an age-old soul pushed the black button to send the garage door back down and walked out of Bill's sight into the house.
A light summer wind playfully tried to pull strands of Bill's long red hair out of the leather band that held it in a tail at the back of neck. Having no immediate success, the breeze wandered on to tease someone else… after a playful tug at the dragon tooth earring in Bill's hair. Bill grinned, revealing a mouth of nearly perfect white teeth, enjoying the joke as much as the wind sprite. As a light came on in the front room of the brick house, however, the former head boy became serious once again.
Dumbledore's instruction had been for Bill to talk the ex-Animorph into coming to England and help fight the dark lord. Why Dumbledore was so sure that someone who had avoided everything that had to do with fighting as well as his fellow living ex-warriors would suddenly drop everything and work for people that he probably didn't believe existed…Well, Bill frankly had no idea there. Jake was a noted recluse who, aside from work at a lonely government position, was rarely seen anywhere in the company of the living. Jake frequented the memorials of his dead cousin and brother but totally avoided any that were still breathing who reminded him of the past.
Bill's eyes narrowed again as Jake B moved silhouetted across his livingroom to fall prone on his aged brown sofa. Bill had, of course, memorized every detail of Jake's living arrangements when he had ahem let himself in earlier. After tombs in Egypt the small lonely house had been a piece of cake for the eldest Wesley. Bill doubted that Jake would ever notice, even if Bill told him later, that his home had ever been violated.
Pulling a normal looking cigarette lighter from his muggle jacket pocket, Bill calmly began to extinguish all the lights on the street. There was little danger of anyone watching, let alone caring, at this time of night but Bill wasn't taking any chances at this stage in the game.
~*~
Jake practically hung over the edge of the worn sofa that was slightly too short from his long, lean frame. Hypothetically, this was the where (if someone asked) you replied that you had just endured a very long day. In Jake's case, though, he felt that he was enduring a very long life. He'd tried everything to try to regain a more normal bachelor life: whores, drinking, drugs… Unfortunately nothing had helped pull him out of the hole that he had buried himself in. he was incapable of laughter, happiness… Dating had been pretty much ruled out of his life. There had plenty of women who had been interested after the war ended but he hadn't wanted any of them. The one woman he had ever cared about was now involved with someone else and obviously didn't care that he existed.
The emotionally aged leader rolled over onto his side for a brief time before sitting slowly and removing his shoes. After dropping them with hallow thunks on the sand colored carpet bellow him, Jake ran his tan, muscled hand over his face, which had slightly more then a five o'clock shadow on it.
Damn, he needed a drink.
Rising and thumping down the short hallway to the kitchen Jake randomly turned on lights in the empty, colorless rooms. The house had no life, no home feeling like the one had grown up in had. These brick walls contained none of the love, life, and family that the now flattened walls of childhood home would still have if the Yeerks had left them standing. Or would they? One son dead and the other a near zombie… Would his parents still care?
Jake pulled a cold bottle of vodka out of the white refrigerator, decided that he wasn't hungry, and closed the door.
After twisting the top off the bottle Jake drank deeply from the drugging liquid. After polishing off half the clear bottle of poison, Jake lowered it and let his gaze wander around the unfriendly room. Cabinets, appliances, window and a door… His gaze caught on the only splash of color in the room.
The eight x 10 picture was framed with a simple bronze band and protected from dust by clear glass. There were six young people in the frozen image of the past. Jake drew nearer to the picture until his hot sticky breath barely fogged up the glass shield. Two girls, four boys. Six smiles, but the one that stuck out the most belonged to the tall blonde beauty queen in the center.
Jake laughed hollowly; thinking of the punishment that Rachel would have inflicted if she had heard the term "beauty queen" referred to herself. The abrupt noise bounced out of the kitchen, down the hallway, and caused the red haired man who had just entered through the front door to pause momentarily.
Jake now commenced his ritual of mocking the people immortalized in the picture, choosing today to mock his dead cousin exclusively.
"So, Xena, how was your day? Good? They take good care of dead warriors, do they?"
After taking another swig of vodka, Jake raised the clear bottle shakily to the picture of his deceased relative.
"Here's to us Rach. Is it easier to be dead Rachel? To not have to clean up all the physical and emotional trash left by the mother-fucking Yeerks?"
The gaze of the face in the picture was now blurrier, but it also looked solemner to Jake somehow.
"I tried to join you several times Xena. Did you know that? I had the gun in place so many times… But I was too much of a coward to fucking finish the job," Jake's drink slurred voice had now risen considerably, causing Bill Weasley to wince.
Jake rambled on, talking the flat reminder of his shadowed past.
"I kept seeing you bitch everytime I was about to finally end this. But no, you wouldn't let me, God damn you!"
Jake swung the not empty bottle of spirits at the frame. Even as drunk as he was, Jake was too close to miss.
The bottle connected and glass shattered to the far corners of the room and rained onto the front of Jake's shirt. Small red dots appeared suddenly on the white fabric as the now uncaged photograph fell lazily to the floor to rest picture side up. A single drop of blood dripped onto Rachel's face, the red smear erasing all facial features.
After watching the picture's slow progress Jake's eye's closed and he slumped towards the tile floor, grasped upright inches from contact by Bill's muscular arms.
~*~
Upon entering Hogwarts, Rachel was stunned by the how large a space the school took up. It seemed several times bigger on the inside then it had looked from the grounds. Momentarily placing her hand on the grey masonry nearest her, Rachel could feel the life within the ancient stones. This building lived, breathed. It was almost a living person, but at the same time was so much more.
At a sharp, impatient look from the hostile man who had let she and David in, Rachel withdrew her hand quickly and followed the quiet, sallow faced stranger deeper into the castle.
As the trio ascended a staircase and began a journey through the labyrinth of passages and doors, Rachel barely had anytime to grasp where she was going. There were few lights in the dark hallways, the strongest source being the hostile man's wand.
Glancing sideways Rachel found David's altered face devoid of expression, making it impossible for her to guess what he old enemy was thinking. David's new face was good looking, she had decided, with the subtle adjustments to features which, when age was added, made him look very different from the angry young man she had once known and hated. When the Ellimist had returned her life with the assignment of working with David, Rachel had been less then thrilled by the idea. But now…
With a mystified shake of her now raven head Rachel turned her attention of their silent leader. As moonlight from a nearby window they were passing highlighted his face, she glanced at a nearby mirror that reflected the image. Despite the intentional lack of care about his manner, Rachel could see the fact that the profile itself was not bad looking. The man slowed for a fraction of a second as he turned a corner, and in the millisecond his dark, angry eyes mad contact with hers. The dark robed man started, and something in his gaze changed slightly before he swept down the hallway at an even fast pace.
"Did you give him the evil eye Xena?" David's cold drawl coming from her right surprised Rachel.
She glared at David with extreme distaste before quickening her pace so that she pulled ahead of him, breaking the thin membrane of growing companionship into tiny glittering pieces as she went.
~*~
Thanks for reading to the end of the slightly longer chapter! Was it good, bad? Please review in the little box below and let me know!