A/N: Okies, peeps, my apologies to all those who've remained faithful to this fic and have waited patiently for this part! Not to mention those of you who were bugging me about it^^ You guys all rock! So I won't keep you waiting, on with part 7!! Please r/r!
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Bounty Hunted
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Part VII
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Sad blue eye narrowed in thought as Jim realized just what had to be done. It was painful, unnerving, it would hurt him more than anyone--only because he'd be the only one who knew--but he knew deep down that it was the only option he had left. Bittersweet described it well, and if the others, his friends, knew just what was going through his head right now they might never forgive him. They wouldn't understand. Couldn't. Well, maybe Hilda, possibly Mel, but not Gene. Not his partner. He was the one Jim wanted to please more than anyone, and as luck would have it he was also the one who wouldn't forgive and forget so easily. Not that he'd have much of a chance anyway.
His first thought was simply to lie to him--his uncle--to give him a false password and get the hell out of there before the whole place went up in flames. But that wouldn't work. Not in the way he wanted it to anyway. Dom would never let him leave, and no matter how sincerely he promised he would never let the others go either. That one'd kill them all, but something told Jim that the other alternatives weren't going to be much better.
Kill them, or several others? In his own sullen mind, Jim found himself lost in an unending labyrinth of doubt. Impossible to navigate through, to winding and dark. The only escape was in death. Be it his or someone else's, it was the only way out. Only in death could this all be over.
"Well, Jimmy?" Dom coaxed and Jim scowled disapprovingly. "Come on now kid, we haven't got all-"
"Will just shut up already?!" Jim unwitting clenched his hands into fists as he spoke. "Dammit, how do you expect me to think clearly when..." He shook his head slowly as he trailed off, seething, he'd already said to much--shouting at his uncle wasn't going to solve anything.
Dom raised an eye brow at this. "My, my, what a temper you've acquired," He couldn't help but smile at his willful nephew. "You didn't learn that from me."
"No," Jim glared up at his uncle in obvious disgust. "you taught me how to hurt and kill innocent people. *You* taught me how to become everything I hate!"
The other merely laughed as he caught the boys gaze. "Hate is a strong word nephew."
"And it describes the way I feel about you perfectly."
"Excellent." The man laughed lightly. "Then your even more like me than I thought."
"What?" Jim couldn't hide his puzzlement for his confusion was evident in his voice.
"Well, for one, if I've taught you to become everything you hate," Dom's smile never faded. "and you hate me..."
"That's not what I meant!" Jim said in his defense. "I'm not like that...not anymore...I'm nothing like you!"
"You're exactly like me, Jimmy. It's in your blood." Dom said calmly, taking a step in Jim's direction for the first time since they'd started their conversation. "Just like my father, and his father, and your father, and me. We're all alike, all of us. Don't think that just because you were gone for a while that your any different."
"My father wasn't like that." Jim seethed. "He was better than that, he wasn't like-"
"Your *father* was a murdering, power hungry bastard, who made my life hell for his own fucking benefit!" Jim was surprised to see that his uncle wasn't laughing anymore, wasn't smiling. Had he actually struck a nerve? "Why the hell would you think any differently?"
"He wasn't like that to me." Jim spat, fighting to control his anger. "He never kidnapped me or threatened me and he would never in a million years have hurt me!"
"Well, of course not!" Dom was screaming now, and advancing angrily on younger blond. Jim stood his ground. "You never ran from him! You never kept things from him! He entrusted you with the most valuable piece of information that he'd ever had and expected *you* to be JUST. LIKE. HIM!" He ceased his shouts as he reached the other, staring down at the boy in utter contempt. "He'd roll over in his grave if he could see you now."
Jim didn't waver, didn't take a step back, didn't let himself be afraid. He just stared as he replied in an eerie calm. "He wouldn't be in that grave if you hadn't put him there."
Jim hit the ground before he knew what was happening, heard his ribs crack before he even felt the unwelcome presence of his uncles' boot slam into his chest, tasted blood in his mouth before the pain even surfaced, but for one blissful moment he was proud of himself. Dom had to resort to violence to hurt him this time. His words hadn't scared him in the least. No more brainwashing, no more fears, just the silent satisfaction that he'd gotten to his uncle. That for once, it was him and not Dom who had remained calm and stood their ground. It was something he'd only dreamed about until now.
But then he opened his eye's, and reality rushed forward just as fast as his vision, and suddenly his pride was the last thing on his mind. His first instinct was to curl up into a little ball on the floor, bringing his knees up quickly to protect his bruised chest. It hurt to think, hurt to breath. Especially to breath, and the next thing he knew he was coughing and choking as the coppery liquid slid down his throat and found his lungs.
Immediately he closed his eye's again, just in case--by merciful twist of fate--it could block out the pain the way it had before and return him to that dream. But it couldn't, he'd known it wouldn't, and he still found it hard to breath. He was coughing, choking, drowning, and breathing made the pain ten times worse. With every breath he took--or attempted to take--came another fit of coughs, and his chest would rise and fall, rise and fall, rise and sting, and rise and stab. Every time.
Dom was displeased.
"Awe, dammit, Jim!" The last thing he needed to do was kill the boy before he'd gotten any information out of him. "Look what you made me do."
On the floor the boy seemed so small. So helpless. So scared. Now THAT was the Jim he remembered! Helpless, frightened, fragile. That was his nephew. Dom would have smiled if he weren't so pissed off. He would have given the boy another kick and laughed to himself as he walked away. He would have laughed, he would have smiled. But he didn't. Not now. Not yet. Now he merely reached down, grabbed the tremulous boy by the collar of his shirt and ripped him mercilessly to his feet. Another smile threatened to cross his lips at his nephews sudden cry of pain. But again he didn't smile. Not just yet.
The boy was like a rag doll in his uncle's grasp, dangling helplessly as he vainly tried to get his footing. It was all Jim could do not to release the tears now shinning visibly in his eye's. He didn't want to let Dom make him cry, no matter how much pain he was in. Dom didn't deserve that satisfaction.
But the man was unrelenting. He knew the boy was at his breaking point, and oh how it would please him to see those tears. "Now, you know Jim," He spoke softly now, but not without malice as he slammed the boy up against the wall. "This can all end now. Just give me the-"
"NO!" Jim coughed causing his whole body to shudder, and blinked back his tears in a sudden blaze of determination.
Dom pressed his thumbs into the boy's throat and slammed him once more before he spoke again. "Just give me the password," Now he did sneer. "Just give me what I want. Tell me, and I'll let you breath."
"N...n..." When speech failed him the boy fought to shake his head but that that just hurt him more. Dom slammed him again. And again. And again. One, two, three, four--Jim lost count after that. Hell, he could hardly believe he hadn't lost consciousness. He'd been pretty good at *that* lately. But his talents failed him now, and pain shot through his small body. He couldn't take much more of this, he needed help. He needed air. More than anything he needed air--as he was rudely reminded with every ragged breath he was denied. 'Tell me, and I'll let you breath...'
*Bang*
*Bang*
*Bang*
He could feel the crimson liquid--sticky and thick--trailing slowly down the back of his neck. His head was pounding, throbbing, and his lungs were aflame with the desire for air. Air, air...sweet, precious, air. He'd never wanted, needed *anything* so badly in his entire life!
'Tell me...'
'Tell me...'
'...and I'll let you breath...'
'This can all end...'
'...all end...now...'
'Tell me...'
'Tell me...'
'...I'll let you breath...'
'...let you breath...'
'...let you...'
"Dominic!" Was the boy's shrill cry. But Dom didn't let go.
"What?" He demanded. Never before had he heard Jim use his full first name.
"It's...it's..." His nephew choked, barely able to get the words out. "...Dom...inic..."
"What is?!" The man slammed him one last time.
"...the...the...c-code..."
Dom's eye's grew wide and he tightened his grip on the boys throat, watching in anger and frustration as Jim's eye's began to glaze over. That couldn't be right. That *couldn't* be it! "Your lying!" He glared. "Your lying! You have to be! Your LYING!!"
"...n...n..."
"YOU ARE!!"
"...n...o...no..."
"Your..." Dom released his grip on the boy as he noticed his shaking hands. Shaking arms. Shaking...everything. That had to be wrong! That HAD to be WRONG!! Dominic. Why the HELL would his brother use HIS name? James hated him. HATED him! That had to be wrong. It had to...!
Jim hit the floor with a thud, landing painfully on his hands and knees as he drew in his first merciful breath. It took him a moment to realize what he'd just done. A moment in which he spent choking and coughing and getting yet more acquainted with the metallic taste flooding his mouth. But once that moment was up, and the boys breathing--shallow as it was--grew almost steady, his mind kicked back into gear and the tiniest shred of clarity faded into consciousness.
He'd caved. He'd lost. And he did it to save himself. *Himself*! He'd just sacrificed the safety of the known universe for himself. For HIS benefit! "No..." Jim gasped, between ragged breathes. "No...h...ow...could...I...?" Now tears did cloud his vision, leaving salty tracks down his dirty cheeks as silent sobs racked his already battered body.
Gene would have never given up like that. Not ever! No matter how much pain he was in, no matter what the cost, he'd have gotten past it, he'd have stayed strong. Gene wouldn't have failed. Not Gene. Suddenly Jim didn't feel like such a good partner anymore. He was a loser. A failure. He didn't deserve to live. How the HELL could he do that?! After all he'd been through! After all he'd overcome! How could he be that stupid?! How could he be that weak? So weak...
So weak in fact that the sudden sound of gunfire made him shudder and cringe and fall to the floor in a hapless heap, eye's squeezed shut as he shielded his ears from the thunderous intrusion.
So weak that he didn't see nor hear as his uncle's body crumbled before him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Were am I? What's happened?'
The world was a blur of muffled sounds and clouded colors as consciousness was returned to one, Gene Starwind. At first, his movement was minimal, the soft tapping of fingers and the gentle fluttering of lashes. Then his whole head moved at a slow and weary pace. Gene blinked several times before realization struck him and he had his desired answers. 'Dom's ship...Gas?' He could barely remember the events that had passed, it had all happened so quickly. Too quickly. 'Where's Jim?' This time he was answered by the cry of pain on the other side of the room. 'Jim?!'
Gene's head turned more quickly than he should have allowed, again blurring his vision for just a moment before his eye's were meet with the image of his struggling partner. 'Is he trying to kill him?' He thought frantically at the sight of his small friend being thrown against the wall. Gene watched painfully as Jims' head flopped back and forth with the countless shakes his uncle gave him. Dom was all but screaming at him in anger and obvious frustration, and the boy was practically in tears. Jim wasn't one to cry. Gene remembered suddenly a time when the boy had laughed when he'd feared for his life, and sighed bitterly at the thought. He wasn't laughing now. Gene wondered briefly if his partner would ever laugh again.
The outlaw's face screwed up. Was he already losing faith? He immediately regretted the thought. Jim wasn't going to die, none of them were. He would never let that happen. He wouldn't lose anyone else.
An inevitable moment of grief hit Gene at the unspoken reference to his father before his thoughts wandered back to Jim. He remembered suddenly the day they first met, their first job together, the birth of Starwind and Hawking Enterprises. Gene almost smiled. He and Jim'd had a big argument over why Gene's name got to go first when Jim did all the work. What would he ever do without Jim there to help him? He'd probably starve--though he'd never have admitted it. Gene didn't smile though. He stood up instead.
Out of habit he'd already surveyed the room and found that only Hilda, Melfina, Jim, Dom and himself were occupying it now. Though he was quite certain that there were plenty guards waiting just outside the large steel doors to his left. He'd come to at a good time. With no security and Dom's attention currently focused on Jim, Gene was able to both get to his feet and reach for his caster without being noticed--and sigh in annoyance when he realized his coveted weapon wasn't there. 'Should have known.' He sighed again, and then as an after thought checked to see if any weapons at all had been left on his person.
A frown creased Gene's fore head as he caught a hold of the one thing they'd missed when disarming him, a tiny silver pistol Hilda'd made him carry in his hidden cloak pocket. He could already hear the 'I told ya so's he'd receive if Hilda were to find out, after the way he'd insisted that he'd never need it as long as he had his caster. To bad his caster was most likely the first thing they'd taken while disarming him. 'Stupid!' He could have kicked himself, but thought it best to save any further berating--or beating--for later as he held the tiny weapon before him and prepared to shoot.
It was only then that he'd realized the screaming had stopped. Jim, he noted, was now on the ground coughing up a storm as he held himself up on weak hands and knees. There was a lot of blood. Gene gritted his teeth as he again focused his gaze on the now silent--and strangely pale--Dom. 'Your gonna pay for that.' He mused proudly as he pulled back on the trigger.
*Bang*
*Thud*
For the second time since he'd opened his eye's a smile almost crossed Genes' lips as the tall dark figure fell to the ground. But again he refrained from doing so as he gazed back at his partner. 'I'm coming Jim.'
"Gene?"
Gene--who'd about broke into a run--skidded to a halt at the soft voice behind him. "Mel?" He turned back to her quickly as her eye's fluttered open.
"Gene, what happened?" She asked sleepily as Gene helped her to her feet.
"Gas." Gene was surprised to hear a groggy Hilda answer for him, as she too opened her eye's. Once Melfina was standing he quickly offered a hand to the other outlaw, but she just waved it off and stood easily on her own. "Blasted pirates." She inhaled deeply. "They're smarter than they look."
Gene nodded sadly before speaking again. "I need you two to get out of here." He stated simply, receiving mixed glances from each of them. "Just go." He continued. "Go back to the ship and tell Gilliam to prepare for take off."
"But what about-"
"Jim and I'll be along shortly." Gene assured an obviously worried Melfina. "Just get things ready, okay?"
Melfina opened her mouth in protest but shut it quickly when Hilda spoke up.
"All right." She nodded. "Don't be too long." And then as an after thought added: "And be careful, Gene. If you don't get there within fifteen minutes of us I'll kill ya myself, you hear."
The two exchanged a quick smirk before he nodded his understanding. Melfina remained silent. "I'll be okay, Mel. I promise." Gene turned back to the teen, his smirk fading into what he hoped looked like a reassuring smile.
Melfina stifled a giggle at the outlaw's lopsided grin before giving him a quick hug. Gene stiffened for a moment, but then relaxed and returned the hug gently. "I'll be okay." He said again before she let go.
"Better be." She said stepping backwards towards their exit before turning away.
Hilda's smirk fell into a sad smile as she watched the two, but she shook it off before anyone noticed. 'This is not the time.' She reminded herself sternly, giving Gene one last glance before following Melfina's path to the doorway at her side. Then thinking better of it, grabbed the girls wrist and pulled her in the other direction. "That way's not safe." She explained simply, walking swiftly to a smaller doorway on the other side of the room. Melfina just nodded and fell into step with the other. Neither looked back as they slid through the door.
Neither saw the dark figure approaching the red haired outlaw...
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After the initial shock of that horrendous sound wore off, Jim swallowed back the ever-thick blood that caked his throat and opened his eye's with an evident cautiousness. What he saw surprised him. No more than a meter away stood a tiny pool of blood. Blood that--for once--was not his own. The boy blinked, breathed, and swallowed again before even attempting to move his languid form. He wanted to know who that blood belonged to. He wanted to know now.
Jim turned his head slowly--and painfully--to see the tall, muscular form of the partner he'd been thinking of only moments ago. The boy watched the scene play out silently, Hilda and Melfina--awake and well, thankfully--saying a quick good-bye to the other and than heading off for a small door on their left.
What troubled the boy though was the fifth form that occupied the room, tall, dark and ominous as he was, left palm clutched firmly over his upper right arm, the hand of which wielded a plain and deadly black gun. Gene didn't see it coming, not at all, and the fast retreating forms of Hilda and Mel as the door slid shut only added to his distraction. 'He stayed behind for me.' Jim realized with a petrifying certainty that made his blood run cold. He hardly deserved Gene's loyalty right now, he hardly deserved anything. But now was not the time to spend berating himself. Now was the time for action. He had to warn Gene. Had to save him!
"Ge..ne..." He squeaked barely above a whisper. Gene didn't move, didn't turn, didn't hear and Dom stalked closer with every mounting second. "An...IKI!" The boy cried to the best of his ability. "Aniki, be..HIND...you...!"
"Huh?" Gene spun around just in time to avoid the bullet that blazed past his right ear as Dom pulled the trigger. The outlaws eye's grew wide at what he saw, shifting quickly from the other mans' face to his bleeding arm. 'Damn!' Gene cursed himself mentally he could have sworn he'd hit him in the chest, or the head, or...well he wasn't quite sure. In fact, he hardly remembered firing the shot at all. Gene frowned, must be a side effect of that damned gas they used to knock them out--short term memory loss and a merciless lack of coordination. "Great." He breathed. "Just what I need..."
Dom chose that very moment to lung at the disoriented outlaw, forgetting his injured appendage and tackling the other to the ground. Gene, ready for the attack--or as ready as someone in his state could be--rolled his opponent on his back almost the moment they hit the floor and punched him squarely in the jaw. Obviously, Dom was a bit dazed--if not from the recent blow to his head then due to the bullet still firmly embedded in his arm--but one wouldn't know it by the force with which he shoved Gene aside, quickly regaining the upper hand.
Jim watched the brawl in silent frustration from where he lay, still barely conscious on the other side of the room. He wanted to help. Gene needed his help! He'd stayed for him. HIM! And if he didn't do something soon then he might very well *die* for him too. That was something the boy simply couldn't handle. That was something he *couldn't* let happen!
On shaky arms, Jim lifted his feeble body until his knees were once again beneath him. The task hadn't been much, but it was more than enough to wear the languid boy out and send him into another fit of coughs. It was several minutes before he managed to catch his breath and regain his composure. Several precious, wasted minutes in which the heated battle across the room was but a blur to the boy. By the time he brought himself to lift his weary head and look upon the two things had yet to show much change. Gene was on top again, but only for a moment before Dom knocked him over the head, hard, with the gun he still held. Apparently the chance hadn't presented itself to use the weapon again, and probably never would as Gene somehow managed to kick the pistol from the others grasp.
Gene's head throbbed immensely after that, as he slid to the ground, blinking a few times to find his bearings. Once his vision had cleared he watched helplessly as Dom staggered back to his feet and unsheathed the knife cleverly hidden in his boot. Sapphire eye's grew wide as there reflection gleamed in the sharpened blade, mirroring the outlaws' momentary horror. By the time those eye's blinked Dom was speaking to him, his words coming out more as a defining hum than anything discernible--or at least that's what Gene heard.
"...fool..." Was the first thing Gene heard clearly. "How many years did you waste with that little brat anyway? Three? Four? And for what, Gene Starwind? So that you could die here for him?" The pirate smirked at the thought as he readied the blade to strike the others' flesh. "How very honorable."
Dom's smirk turned to a sneer of pure wrathful delight as he brought the weapon down on the stunned outlaw, ice eye's shinning in sardonic pleasure. But Gene wasn't thinking about that right now. He wasn't thinking about the anger he felt or the pain he would feel, or even of attempting to block the oncoming blow. He was thinking about Jim, and their time together, and--though bitterly--of the answers to Dom's intrusive questions.
He and Jim were a team. Partners. There for each other no matter what. And if he did die today--though he had no intention of doing so--it would in fact be honorable. The irony that Dom could make something so true and so real sound like such a joke and so bitter only fueled the growing hatred he held for the man. No, he wasn't going to die today. Not him, or Jim, or Hilda or Melfina. They were all going to survive this, they were all going to be okay. But as for the menacing man who stood over him now, Gene really wasn't sure. But if Dom were not to survive this encounter, it certainly wouldn't break his heart.
Gene winced and gritted his teeth against the pain of the cold metal connecting with his abdomen. But even as he watched his blood spill profusely from the newly formed gash he refused to give up, the wound to his side only driving his determination. He simply couldn't give up yet.
Not yet...
Not ever...
And yet his body didn't respond. Couldn't respond. And though Dom was again speaking, Gene--head still swimming--could hardly hope to hear the words. It was all the young outlaw could do to grasp his bleeding side. 'Just another scar.' He thought sardonically as his opponent lifted his blade again.
Gene, after taking a deep breath, fought back, not against Dom, but against his own languid behavior. If he could ever hope to survive all this then he couldn't be so damn weak. Couldn't give up! He had to swallow back his pain and his helpless appearance, regain his bearings and not give in. Not give up. He had to fight back. Had to win. To live!
But the mans' thoughts it seemed, valiant as they were, came to little to late. Dom's sneer, bitter and pointed, had grown yet wider as the knife descended on the other. At that moment it was all Gene could do not to shy away as the blade neared again. Now was the time. If he didn't do something now, he was over. Dead. This wound would be fatal, of that he was certain.
Ironically enough, the wounded didn't have to do a thing. Indigo eyes blinked in appropriate confusion as the deadly weapon intent on killing him skidded across the floor and Dom fell to his knees in evident shock.
Jim was almost as surprised as Gene at the idea of him not only standing--feeble as he was--but also clutching in his unshaking hand, Dom's' previously discarded gun--maliciously trained on his near devastated uncle. The roguish boy might have smiled through his disbelief if only he'd had the strength, but if it was a choice between expressing his inner satisfaction and keeping his minimal concentration then concentration would win out in the end as Jims' lips remained taught in strait mouthed resolve.
Dom was somewhere between shock and marvel. How could that boy possibly have come to the outlaws' rescue like that? How could he still be conscious? The irony of it nearly made the man shudder; it was he who taught the boy to handle such a weapon in the first place. Never, even now, did he expect his nephew to wield any of the like against him. Perhaps what they said was true, that the best student--or in this case, only--really did rise up to defeat their teacher. 'And in this case,' Dom thought morbidly. 'That saying just might be literal.'
The near disdainful look in Jims' eyes as he glared down at his uncle expressed exactly how the boy felt. Hateful, scornful and yet engulfed by an undying pride. He had the upper hand here, *he* had control over Dom. That momentary bliss when first he hit the floor flooded his senses once again, masking his pain--if only for a second--beneath a guise of manifest determination.
But, painful as it was, Jim knew that his peace wouldn't last and in a moments' time he was gone from his dream world and back in reality. A reality where Gene lay bleeding on the floor, Dom sat on caved knees in apparent shock, and he wobbly stood, weapon in hand. A reality where his uncles eye's narrowed as the lurid truth set in, and his lips again curled into a wicked smile.
"Not bad, Jimmy." The man sneered. "I must say, I'm impressed. Perhaps you are a nephew of mine after all."
Azure eyes blinked in both surprise and--though he hoped it wasn't obvious--fatigue. How could ones' mood change that quickly? Shock written clearly across their face one moment and the next an utter, eerie calm. Jim wasn't entirely certain how he should handle that. And as it turned out, Dom didn't give him the time for such contemplation anyway.
"So, what are you gonna do now?" The man asked as though clueless. Jim remained silent and he continued. "Are you going to shoot me, Jimmy? Do you really want to kill me?"
"Yes." The boy needed no contemplation to answer that one, the surprise in his eye's replaced by a cold malicious glare that rivaled even Dom's.
"But will you?" Dom inquired almost indifferently. "Can you?"
"I can." But this time his voice was a bit shaky, his eye's a bit sad.
"Then do it." He said simply, as though the task ahead were no more than a walk in the park. "It's only appropriate." Dom's smile widened.
'Go on, Jim. Shoot him! Kill him! Pay him back for all he's done to you!' The boys' mind was screaming at him, begging him. 'Dot it! Do it! DO IT!' But instead he just stood there, just stared. Hesitated. Spoke. "Appropriate?" As it he didn't know.
"Well, yes." Dom nodded. "An eye for an eye, right? I killed your father, now you kill me, isn't that the way it works?" Jims' grip on the gun tightened at the mention of his father and he again swallowed back the urge to collapse right then and there. He should have killed the man by now, he should do it now, but for some reason he felt compelled to listen. Dom had that effect on him. He'd always had. Yet, as the boy suddenly realized, he wasn't the only thing in Jim's line of vision.
'Piece of cake.' Dom thought in premature triumph. It may not have been obvious to anyone other then himself but he *was* back in control. The glazed over look in his nephews' eye's made that abundantly clear. He was tempted to laugh at it all, that boy could be so damn amusing--holding a gun to the other and still entirely helpless. He loved it! And he knew just how to use it to his advantage. If he could just stay alive for another minute or so then all would be fine. The guards would have noticed the disturbance by now, they'd be there any minute. Oh, how stupid that boy could be.
Gene, however, even in his semiconscious state, could see *exactly* what was going on. 'He's stalling him.' The outlaw realized. 'He's just playing with him.' And yet no warning escaped his lips as his gaze moved from Dom, to the boy before him. Something told him he should save his energy for when it was *really* needed. All was not as it seemed, and his partner needed no help from him now.
"Oh, come on, Jimmy." The pirate coaxed. "I wont be the first person you've killed, and I probably wont be the last."
But Jim wasn't even looking at him anymore, the object which held his attention now just past the dark man. That was it. Behind Dom, the computer console, the controls to his fathers weapon. That was the key. The key to ending it all. Had Dom noticed the change in the boys gaze he might have tried a different approach on keeping his unwittingly lost control. But he didn't, and so the man went on.
"Do you remember your first kill?" He asked cluelessly. "Do you remember that day?" When the boy didn't react at all Dom was a bit confused, but not finished. "Do you remember-"
Dom was cut off abruptly by the sudden sound of the door on his right being thrown open. "Ah, success." He breathed. If it was even possible the smirk on his face grew. "You know, Jim, you really should have-"
"Do you remember the day your entire empire was brought down by your own nephew?" Jim asked spontaneously, as though indifferent to everything around him. Dom's' only response was an uncharacteristic look of confusion. It was Jims' turn to smile. "Well, you will." The boy continued. "If you live through this."
Finally pulling the trigger, Jim watched blissfully as the bullet whizzed past his uncles' head and the computer behind him burst into flames. Beautiful, hostile, auspicious flames. The kind that could efficiently detonate a bomb. To Jim, nothing had never been more beautiful. More welcoming. And as he fell to the floor, hardly noticing his uncles' wrathful cries, he'd never felt more at peace with himself. With anything. And as his eye's fell shut, a smile crossed his face. Whether he would awake again or not he wasn't sure but either way his uncles' reign of terror had come to an end.
Either way, he would rest in peace...
To be concluded...
A/N: Yes, I'm perfectly aware of how evil I am for ending it there, but ya gotta admit, it's better than nothing^^ Well, as it is, I hope that part didn't suck! For as long as it took me to write I know I'm horrible with action/fight type scenes, so my apologies for that. Hopefully, and I know I say this every time, the next part wont take me forever to do. Well, actually both next parts (one Gene/Hilda & one Gene/Mel) but um, yeah, it'll be the end. Finally! ^^;; Alrighty, that's about it, for now at least. Ja ne minna-san ^__^
~~~
Bounty Hunted
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Part VII
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Sad blue eye narrowed in thought as Jim realized just what had to be done. It was painful, unnerving, it would hurt him more than anyone--only because he'd be the only one who knew--but he knew deep down that it was the only option he had left. Bittersweet described it well, and if the others, his friends, knew just what was going through his head right now they might never forgive him. They wouldn't understand. Couldn't. Well, maybe Hilda, possibly Mel, but not Gene. Not his partner. He was the one Jim wanted to please more than anyone, and as luck would have it he was also the one who wouldn't forgive and forget so easily. Not that he'd have much of a chance anyway.
His first thought was simply to lie to him--his uncle--to give him a false password and get the hell out of there before the whole place went up in flames. But that wouldn't work. Not in the way he wanted it to anyway. Dom would never let him leave, and no matter how sincerely he promised he would never let the others go either. That one'd kill them all, but something told Jim that the other alternatives weren't going to be much better.
Kill them, or several others? In his own sullen mind, Jim found himself lost in an unending labyrinth of doubt. Impossible to navigate through, to winding and dark. The only escape was in death. Be it his or someone else's, it was the only way out. Only in death could this all be over.
"Well, Jimmy?" Dom coaxed and Jim scowled disapprovingly. "Come on now kid, we haven't got all-"
"Will just shut up already?!" Jim unwitting clenched his hands into fists as he spoke. "Dammit, how do you expect me to think clearly when..." He shook his head slowly as he trailed off, seething, he'd already said to much--shouting at his uncle wasn't going to solve anything.
Dom raised an eye brow at this. "My, my, what a temper you've acquired," He couldn't help but smile at his willful nephew. "You didn't learn that from me."
"No," Jim glared up at his uncle in obvious disgust. "you taught me how to hurt and kill innocent people. *You* taught me how to become everything I hate!"
The other merely laughed as he caught the boys gaze. "Hate is a strong word nephew."
"And it describes the way I feel about you perfectly."
"Excellent." The man laughed lightly. "Then your even more like me than I thought."
"What?" Jim couldn't hide his puzzlement for his confusion was evident in his voice.
"Well, for one, if I've taught you to become everything you hate," Dom's smile never faded. "and you hate me..."
"That's not what I meant!" Jim said in his defense. "I'm not like that...not anymore...I'm nothing like you!"
"You're exactly like me, Jimmy. It's in your blood." Dom said calmly, taking a step in Jim's direction for the first time since they'd started their conversation. "Just like my father, and his father, and your father, and me. We're all alike, all of us. Don't think that just because you were gone for a while that your any different."
"My father wasn't like that." Jim seethed. "He was better than that, he wasn't like-"
"Your *father* was a murdering, power hungry bastard, who made my life hell for his own fucking benefit!" Jim was surprised to see that his uncle wasn't laughing anymore, wasn't smiling. Had he actually struck a nerve? "Why the hell would you think any differently?"
"He wasn't like that to me." Jim spat, fighting to control his anger. "He never kidnapped me or threatened me and he would never in a million years have hurt me!"
"Well, of course not!" Dom was screaming now, and advancing angrily on younger blond. Jim stood his ground. "You never ran from him! You never kept things from him! He entrusted you with the most valuable piece of information that he'd ever had and expected *you* to be JUST. LIKE. HIM!" He ceased his shouts as he reached the other, staring down at the boy in utter contempt. "He'd roll over in his grave if he could see you now."
Jim didn't waver, didn't take a step back, didn't let himself be afraid. He just stared as he replied in an eerie calm. "He wouldn't be in that grave if you hadn't put him there."
Jim hit the ground before he knew what was happening, heard his ribs crack before he even felt the unwelcome presence of his uncles' boot slam into his chest, tasted blood in his mouth before the pain even surfaced, but for one blissful moment he was proud of himself. Dom had to resort to violence to hurt him this time. His words hadn't scared him in the least. No more brainwashing, no more fears, just the silent satisfaction that he'd gotten to his uncle. That for once, it was him and not Dom who had remained calm and stood their ground. It was something he'd only dreamed about until now.
But then he opened his eye's, and reality rushed forward just as fast as his vision, and suddenly his pride was the last thing on his mind. His first instinct was to curl up into a little ball on the floor, bringing his knees up quickly to protect his bruised chest. It hurt to think, hurt to breath. Especially to breath, and the next thing he knew he was coughing and choking as the coppery liquid slid down his throat and found his lungs.
Immediately he closed his eye's again, just in case--by merciful twist of fate--it could block out the pain the way it had before and return him to that dream. But it couldn't, he'd known it wouldn't, and he still found it hard to breath. He was coughing, choking, drowning, and breathing made the pain ten times worse. With every breath he took--or attempted to take--came another fit of coughs, and his chest would rise and fall, rise and fall, rise and sting, and rise and stab. Every time.
Dom was displeased.
"Awe, dammit, Jim!" The last thing he needed to do was kill the boy before he'd gotten any information out of him. "Look what you made me do."
On the floor the boy seemed so small. So helpless. So scared. Now THAT was the Jim he remembered! Helpless, frightened, fragile. That was his nephew. Dom would have smiled if he weren't so pissed off. He would have given the boy another kick and laughed to himself as he walked away. He would have laughed, he would have smiled. But he didn't. Not now. Not yet. Now he merely reached down, grabbed the tremulous boy by the collar of his shirt and ripped him mercilessly to his feet. Another smile threatened to cross his lips at his nephews sudden cry of pain. But again he didn't smile. Not just yet.
The boy was like a rag doll in his uncle's grasp, dangling helplessly as he vainly tried to get his footing. It was all Jim could do not to release the tears now shinning visibly in his eye's. He didn't want to let Dom make him cry, no matter how much pain he was in. Dom didn't deserve that satisfaction.
But the man was unrelenting. He knew the boy was at his breaking point, and oh how it would please him to see those tears. "Now, you know Jim," He spoke softly now, but not without malice as he slammed the boy up against the wall. "This can all end now. Just give me the-"
"NO!" Jim coughed causing his whole body to shudder, and blinked back his tears in a sudden blaze of determination.
Dom pressed his thumbs into the boy's throat and slammed him once more before he spoke again. "Just give me the password," Now he did sneer. "Just give me what I want. Tell me, and I'll let you breath."
"N...n..." When speech failed him the boy fought to shake his head but that that just hurt him more. Dom slammed him again. And again. And again. One, two, three, four--Jim lost count after that. Hell, he could hardly believe he hadn't lost consciousness. He'd been pretty good at *that* lately. But his talents failed him now, and pain shot through his small body. He couldn't take much more of this, he needed help. He needed air. More than anything he needed air--as he was rudely reminded with every ragged breath he was denied. 'Tell me, and I'll let you breath...'
*Bang*
*Bang*
*Bang*
He could feel the crimson liquid--sticky and thick--trailing slowly down the back of his neck. His head was pounding, throbbing, and his lungs were aflame with the desire for air. Air, air...sweet, precious, air. He'd never wanted, needed *anything* so badly in his entire life!
'Tell me...'
'Tell me...'
'...and I'll let you breath...'
'This can all end...'
'...all end...now...'
'Tell me...'
'Tell me...'
'...I'll let you breath...'
'...let you breath...'
'...let you...'
"Dominic!" Was the boy's shrill cry. But Dom didn't let go.
"What?" He demanded. Never before had he heard Jim use his full first name.
"It's...it's..." His nephew choked, barely able to get the words out. "...Dom...inic..."
"What is?!" The man slammed him one last time.
"...the...the...c-code..."
Dom's eye's grew wide and he tightened his grip on the boys throat, watching in anger and frustration as Jim's eye's began to glaze over. That couldn't be right. That *couldn't* be it! "Your lying!" He glared. "Your lying! You have to be! Your LYING!!"
"...n...n..."
"YOU ARE!!"
"...n...o...no..."
"Your..." Dom released his grip on the boy as he noticed his shaking hands. Shaking arms. Shaking...everything. That had to be wrong! That HAD to be WRONG!! Dominic. Why the HELL would his brother use HIS name? James hated him. HATED him! That had to be wrong. It had to...!
Jim hit the floor with a thud, landing painfully on his hands and knees as he drew in his first merciful breath. It took him a moment to realize what he'd just done. A moment in which he spent choking and coughing and getting yet more acquainted with the metallic taste flooding his mouth. But once that moment was up, and the boys breathing--shallow as it was--grew almost steady, his mind kicked back into gear and the tiniest shred of clarity faded into consciousness.
He'd caved. He'd lost. And he did it to save himself. *Himself*! He'd just sacrificed the safety of the known universe for himself. For HIS benefit! "No..." Jim gasped, between ragged breathes. "No...h...ow...could...I...?" Now tears did cloud his vision, leaving salty tracks down his dirty cheeks as silent sobs racked his already battered body.
Gene would have never given up like that. Not ever! No matter how much pain he was in, no matter what the cost, he'd have gotten past it, he'd have stayed strong. Gene wouldn't have failed. Not Gene. Suddenly Jim didn't feel like such a good partner anymore. He was a loser. A failure. He didn't deserve to live. How the HELL could he do that?! After all he'd been through! After all he'd overcome! How could he be that stupid?! How could he be that weak? So weak...
So weak in fact that the sudden sound of gunfire made him shudder and cringe and fall to the floor in a hapless heap, eye's squeezed shut as he shielded his ears from the thunderous intrusion.
So weak that he didn't see nor hear as his uncle's body crumbled before him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Were am I? What's happened?'
The world was a blur of muffled sounds and clouded colors as consciousness was returned to one, Gene Starwind. At first, his movement was minimal, the soft tapping of fingers and the gentle fluttering of lashes. Then his whole head moved at a slow and weary pace. Gene blinked several times before realization struck him and he had his desired answers. 'Dom's ship...Gas?' He could barely remember the events that had passed, it had all happened so quickly. Too quickly. 'Where's Jim?' This time he was answered by the cry of pain on the other side of the room. 'Jim?!'
Gene's head turned more quickly than he should have allowed, again blurring his vision for just a moment before his eye's were meet with the image of his struggling partner. 'Is he trying to kill him?' He thought frantically at the sight of his small friend being thrown against the wall. Gene watched painfully as Jims' head flopped back and forth with the countless shakes his uncle gave him. Dom was all but screaming at him in anger and obvious frustration, and the boy was practically in tears. Jim wasn't one to cry. Gene remembered suddenly a time when the boy had laughed when he'd feared for his life, and sighed bitterly at the thought. He wasn't laughing now. Gene wondered briefly if his partner would ever laugh again.
The outlaw's face screwed up. Was he already losing faith? He immediately regretted the thought. Jim wasn't going to die, none of them were. He would never let that happen. He wouldn't lose anyone else.
An inevitable moment of grief hit Gene at the unspoken reference to his father before his thoughts wandered back to Jim. He remembered suddenly the day they first met, their first job together, the birth of Starwind and Hawking Enterprises. Gene almost smiled. He and Jim'd had a big argument over why Gene's name got to go first when Jim did all the work. What would he ever do without Jim there to help him? He'd probably starve--though he'd never have admitted it. Gene didn't smile though. He stood up instead.
Out of habit he'd already surveyed the room and found that only Hilda, Melfina, Jim, Dom and himself were occupying it now. Though he was quite certain that there were plenty guards waiting just outside the large steel doors to his left. He'd come to at a good time. With no security and Dom's attention currently focused on Jim, Gene was able to both get to his feet and reach for his caster without being noticed--and sigh in annoyance when he realized his coveted weapon wasn't there. 'Should have known.' He sighed again, and then as an after thought checked to see if any weapons at all had been left on his person.
A frown creased Gene's fore head as he caught a hold of the one thing they'd missed when disarming him, a tiny silver pistol Hilda'd made him carry in his hidden cloak pocket. He could already hear the 'I told ya so's he'd receive if Hilda were to find out, after the way he'd insisted that he'd never need it as long as he had his caster. To bad his caster was most likely the first thing they'd taken while disarming him. 'Stupid!' He could have kicked himself, but thought it best to save any further berating--or beating--for later as he held the tiny weapon before him and prepared to shoot.
It was only then that he'd realized the screaming had stopped. Jim, he noted, was now on the ground coughing up a storm as he held himself up on weak hands and knees. There was a lot of blood. Gene gritted his teeth as he again focused his gaze on the now silent--and strangely pale--Dom. 'Your gonna pay for that.' He mused proudly as he pulled back on the trigger.
*Bang*
*Thud*
For the second time since he'd opened his eye's a smile almost crossed Genes' lips as the tall dark figure fell to the ground. But again he refrained from doing so as he gazed back at his partner. 'I'm coming Jim.'
"Gene?"
Gene--who'd about broke into a run--skidded to a halt at the soft voice behind him. "Mel?" He turned back to her quickly as her eye's fluttered open.
"Gene, what happened?" She asked sleepily as Gene helped her to her feet.
"Gas." Gene was surprised to hear a groggy Hilda answer for him, as she too opened her eye's. Once Melfina was standing he quickly offered a hand to the other outlaw, but she just waved it off and stood easily on her own. "Blasted pirates." She inhaled deeply. "They're smarter than they look."
Gene nodded sadly before speaking again. "I need you two to get out of here." He stated simply, receiving mixed glances from each of them. "Just go." He continued. "Go back to the ship and tell Gilliam to prepare for take off."
"But what about-"
"Jim and I'll be along shortly." Gene assured an obviously worried Melfina. "Just get things ready, okay?"
Melfina opened her mouth in protest but shut it quickly when Hilda spoke up.
"All right." She nodded. "Don't be too long." And then as an after thought added: "And be careful, Gene. If you don't get there within fifteen minutes of us I'll kill ya myself, you hear."
The two exchanged a quick smirk before he nodded his understanding. Melfina remained silent. "I'll be okay, Mel. I promise." Gene turned back to the teen, his smirk fading into what he hoped looked like a reassuring smile.
Melfina stifled a giggle at the outlaw's lopsided grin before giving him a quick hug. Gene stiffened for a moment, but then relaxed and returned the hug gently. "I'll be okay." He said again before she let go.
"Better be." She said stepping backwards towards their exit before turning away.
Hilda's smirk fell into a sad smile as she watched the two, but she shook it off before anyone noticed. 'This is not the time.' She reminded herself sternly, giving Gene one last glance before following Melfina's path to the doorway at her side. Then thinking better of it, grabbed the girls wrist and pulled her in the other direction. "That way's not safe." She explained simply, walking swiftly to a smaller doorway on the other side of the room. Melfina just nodded and fell into step with the other. Neither looked back as they slid through the door.
Neither saw the dark figure approaching the red haired outlaw...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After the initial shock of that horrendous sound wore off, Jim swallowed back the ever-thick blood that caked his throat and opened his eye's with an evident cautiousness. What he saw surprised him. No more than a meter away stood a tiny pool of blood. Blood that--for once--was not his own. The boy blinked, breathed, and swallowed again before even attempting to move his languid form. He wanted to know who that blood belonged to. He wanted to know now.
Jim turned his head slowly--and painfully--to see the tall, muscular form of the partner he'd been thinking of only moments ago. The boy watched the scene play out silently, Hilda and Melfina--awake and well, thankfully--saying a quick good-bye to the other and than heading off for a small door on their left.
What troubled the boy though was the fifth form that occupied the room, tall, dark and ominous as he was, left palm clutched firmly over his upper right arm, the hand of which wielded a plain and deadly black gun. Gene didn't see it coming, not at all, and the fast retreating forms of Hilda and Mel as the door slid shut only added to his distraction. 'He stayed behind for me.' Jim realized with a petrifying certainty that made his blood run cold. He hardly deserved Gene's loyalty right now, he hardly deserved anything. But now was not the time to spend berating himself. Now was the time for action. He had to warn Gene. Had to save him!
"Ge..ne..." He squeaked barely above a whisper. Gene didn't move, didn't turn, didn't hear and Dom stalked closer with every mounting second. "An...IKI!" The boy cried to the best of his ability. "Aniki, be..HIND...you...!"
"Huh?" Gene spun around just in time to avoid the bullet that blazed past his right ear as Dom pulled the trigger. The outlaws eye's grew wide at what he saw, shifting quickly from the other mans' face to his bleeding arm. 'Damn!' Gene cursed himself mentally he could have sworn he'd hit him in the chest, or the head, or...well he wasn't quite sure. In fact, he hardly remembered firing the shot at all. Gene frowned, must be a side effect of that damned gas they used to knock them out--short term memory loss and a merciless lack of coordination. "Great." He breathed. "Just what I need..."
Dom chose that very moment to lung at the disoriented outlaw, forgetting his injured appendage and tackling the other to the ground. Gene, ready for the attack--or as ready as someone in his state could be--rolled his opponent on his back almost the moment they hit the floor and punched him squarely in the jaw. Obviously, Dom was a bit dazed--if not from the recent blow to his head then due to the bullet still firmly embedded in his arm--but one wouldn't know it by the force with which he shoved Gene aside, quickly regaining the upper hand.
Jim watched the brawl in silent frustration from where he lay, still barely conscious on the other side of the room. He wanted to help. Gene needed his help! He'd stayed for him. HIM! And if he didn't do something soon then he might very well *die* for him too. That was something the boy simply couldn't handle. That was something he *couldn't* let happen!
On shaky arms, Jim lifted his feeble body until his knees were once again beneath him. The task hadn't been much, but it was more than enough to wear the languid boy out and send him into another fit of coughs. It was several minutes before he managed to catch his breath and regain his composure. Several precious, wasted minutes in which the heated battle across the room was but a blur to the boy. By the time he brought himself to lift his weary head and look upon the two things had yet to show much change. Gene was on top again, but only for a moment before Dom knocked him over the head, hard, with the gun he still held. Apparently the chance hadn't presented itself to use the weapon again, and probably never would as Gene somehow managed to kick the pistol from the others grasp.
Gene's head throbbed immensely after that, as he slid to the ground, blinking a few times to find his bearings. Once his vision had cleared he watched helplessly as Dom staggered back to his feet and unsheathed the knife cleverly hidden in his boot. Sapphire eye's grew wide as there reflection gleamed in the sharpened blade, mirroring the outlaws' momentary horror. By the time those eye's blinked Dom was speaking to him, his words coming out more as a defining hum than anything discernible--or at least that's what Gene heard.
"...fool..." Was the first thing Gene heard clearly. "How many years did you waste with that little brat anyway? Three? Four? And for what, Gene Starwind? So that you could die here for him?" The pirate smirked at the thought as he readied the blade to strike the others' flesh. "How very honorable."
Dom's smirk turned to a sneer of pure wrathful delight as he brought the weapon down on the stunned outlaw, ice eye's shinning in sardonic pleasure. But Gene wasn't thinking about that right now. He wasn't thinking about the anger he felt or the pain he would feel, or even of attempting to block the oncoming blow. He was thinking about Jim, and their time together, and--though bitterly--of the answers to Dom's intrusive questions.
He and Jim were a team. Partners. There for each other no matter what. And if he did die today--though he had no intention of doing so--it would in fact be honorable. The irony that Dom could make something so true and so real sound like such a joke and so bitter only fueled the growing hatred he held for the man. No, he wasn't going to die today. Not him, or Jim, or Hilda or Melfina. They were all going to survive this, they were all going to be okay. But as for the menacing man who stood over him now, Gene really wasn't sure. But if Dom were not to survive this encounter, it certainly wouldn't break his heart.
Gene winced and gritted his teeth against the pain of the cold metal connecting with his abdomen. But even as he watched his blood spill profusely from the newly formed gash he refused to give up, the wound to his side only driving his determination. He simply couldn't give up yet.
Not yet...
Not ever...
And yet his body didn't respond. Couldn't respond. And though Dom was again speaking, Gene--head still swimming--could hardly hope to hear the words. It was all the young outlaw could do to grasp his bleeding side. 'Just another scar.' He thought sardonically as his opponent lifted his blade again.
Gene, after taking a deep breath, fought back, not against Dom, but against his own languid behavior. If he could ever hope to survive all this then he couldn't be so damn weak. Couldn't give up! He had to swallow back his pain and his helpless appearance, regain his bearings and not give in. Not give up. He had to fight back. Had to win. To live!
But the mans' thoughts it seemed, valiant as they were, came to little to late. Dom's sneer, bitter and pointed, had grown yet wider as the knife descended on the other. At that moment it was all Gene could do not to shy away as the blade neared again. Now was the time. If he didn't do something now, he was over. Dead. This wound would be fatal, of that he was certain.
Ironically enough, the wounded didn't have to do a thing. Indigo eyes blinked in appropriate confusion as the deadly weapon intent on killing him skidded across the floor and Dom fell to his knees in evident shock.
Jim was almost as surprised as Gene at the idea of him not only standing--feeble as he was--but also clutching in his unshaking hand, Dom's' previously discarded gun--maliciously trained on his near devastated uncle. The roguish boy might have smiled through his disbelief if only he'd had the strength, but if it was a choice between expressing his inner satisfaction and keeping his minimal concentration then concentration would win out in the end as Jims' lips remained taught in strait mouthed resolve.
Dom was somewhere between shock and marvel. How could that boy possibly have come to the outlaws' rescue like that? How could he still be conscious? The irony of it nearly made the man shudder; it was he who taught the boy to handle such a weapon in the first place. Never, even now, did he expect his nephew to wield any of the like against him. Perhaps what they said was true, that the best student--or in this case, only--really did rise up to defeat their teacher. 'And in this case,' Dom thought morbidly. 'That saying just might be literal.'
The near disdainful look in Jims' eyes as he glared down at his uncle expressed exactly how the boy felt. Hateful, scornful and yet engulfed by an undying pride. He had the upper hand here, *he* had control over Dom. That momentary bliss when first he hit the floor flooded his senses once again, masking his pain--if only for a second--beneath a guise of manifest determination.
But, painful as it was, Jim knew that his peace wouldn't last and in a moments' time he was gone from his dream world and back in reality. A reality where Gene lay bleeding on the floor, Dom sat on caved knees in apparent shock, and he wobbly stood, weapon in hand. A reality where his uncles eye's narrowed as the lurid truth set in, and his lips again curled into a wicked smile.
"Not bad, Jimmy." The man sneered. "I must say, I'm impressed. Perhaps you are a nephew of mine after all."
Azure eyes blinked in both surprise and--though he hoped it wasn't obvious--fatigue. How could ones' mood change that quickly? Shock written clearly across their face one moment and the next an utter, eerie calm. Jim wasn't entirely certain how he should handle that. And as it turned out, Dom didn't give him the time for such contemplation anyway.
"So, what are you gonna do now?" The man asked as though clueless. Jim remained silent and he continued. "Are you going to shoot me, Jimmy? Do you really want to kill me?"
"Yes." The boy needed no contemplation to answer that one, the surprise in his eye's replaced by a cold malicious glare that rivaled even Dom's.
"But will you?" Dom inquired almost indifferently. "Can you?"
"I can." But this time his voice was a bit shaky, his eye's a bit sad.
"Then do it." He said simply, as though the task ahead were no more than a walk in the park. "It's only appropriate." Dom's smile widened.
'Go on, Jim. Shoot him! Kill him! Pay him back for all he's done to you!' The boys' mind was screaming at him, begging him. 'Dot it! Do it! DO IT!' But instead he just stood there, just stared. Hesitated. Spoke. "Appropriate?" As it he didn't know.
"Well, yes." Dom nodded. "An eye for an eye, right? I killed your father, now you kill me, isn't that the way it works?" Jims' grip on the gun tightened at the mention of his father and he again swallowed back the urge to collapse right then and there. He should have killed the man by now, he should do it now, but for some reason he felt compelled to listen. Dom had that effect on him. He'd always had. Yet, as the boy suddenly realized, he wasn't the only thing in Jim's line of vision.
'Piece of cake.' Dom thought in premature triumph. It may not have been obvious to anyone other then himself but he *was* back in control. The glazed over look in his nephews' eye's made that abundantly clear. He was tempted to laugh at it all, that boy could be so damn amusing--holding a gun to the other and still entirely helpless. He loved it! And he knew just how to use it to his advantage. If he could just stay alive for another minute or so then all would be fine. The guards would have noticed the disturbance by now, they'd be there any minute. Oh, how stupid that boy could be.
Gene, however, even in his semiconscious state, could see *exactly* what was going on. 'He's stalling him.' The outlaw realized. 'He's just playing with him.' And yet no warning escaped his lips as his gaze moved from Dom, to the boy before him. Something told him he should save his energy for when it was *really* needed. All was not as it seemed, and his partner needed no help from him now.
"Oh, come on, Jimmy." The pirate coaxed. "I wont be the first person you've killed, and I probably wont be the last."
But Jim wasn't even looking at him anymore, the object which held his attention now just past the dark man. That was it. Behind Dom, the computer console, the controls to his fathers weapon. That was the key. The key to ending it all. Had Dom noticed the change in the boys gaze he might have tried a different approach on keeping his unwittingly lost control. But he didn't, and so the man went on.
"Do you remember your first kill?" He asked cluelessly. "Do you remember that day?" When the boy didn't react at all Dom was a bit confused, but not finished. "Do you remember-"
Dom was cut off abruptly by the sudden sound of the door on his right being thrown open. "Ah, success." He breathed. If it was even possible the smirk on his face grew. "You know, Jim, you really should have-"
"Do you remember the day your entire empire was brought down by your own nephew?" Jim asked spontaneously, as though indifferent to everything around him. Dom's' only response was an uncharacteristic look of confusion. It was Jims' turn to smile. "Well, you will." The boy continued. "If you live through this."
Finally pulling the trigger, Jim watched blissfully as the bullet whizzed past his uncles' head and the computer behind him burst into flames. Beautiful, hostile, auspicious flames. The kind that could efficiently detonate a bomb. To Jim, nothing had never been more beautiful. More welcoming. And as he fell to the floor, hardly noticing his uncles' wrathful cries, he'd never felt more at peace with himself. With anything. And as his eye's fell shut, a smile crossed his face. Whether he would awake again or not he wasn't sure but either way his uncles' reign of terror had come to an end.
Either way, he would rest in peace...
To be concluded...
A/N: Yes, I'm perfectly aware of how evil I am for ending it there, but ya gotta admit, it's better than nothing^^ Well, as it is, I hope that part didn't suck! For as long as it took me to write I know I'm horrible with action/fight type scenes, so my apologies for that. Hopefully, and I know I say this every time, the next part wont take me forever to do. Well, actually both next parts (one Gene/Hilda & one Gene/Mel) but um, yeah, it'll be the end. Finally! ^^;; Alrighty, that's about it, for now at least. Ja ne minna-san ^__^