Sparks

Sparks are flying all around me, and I can feel someone digging around inside me. That has to be the oddest feeling a person can experience, that of someone else's hand inside your chest. I've long since reached the point where pain was only something that I wish I could feel. I'm becoming less and less alive with each passing moment, slowly slipping into oblivion.

"Don't die on me yet, boy." I recognize the voice, the man I hate the most. Or I should hate him... I just can't bring myself to feel that way anymore. I can hear music from somewhere... Piano music.

She played piano...

Painfully twisting my head, I look for the source of the music, hoping to find someone that shouldn't be there, couldn't be there.

She's dead... let it go.

I can't let it go, I can't let her go. I should never have let go of her, even as I died. My eyes still search my surroundings for the source of the music, and then... and then...

No.

There she is, my blonde angel. Her hair splayed out like some sort of halo, her head tilted back and her eyes on the ceiling as her fingers danced across the keys.

"Rrrrrr…" Is all I can say.

"Calm down, boy. You can't talk yet." I can't feel his hand on my shoulder, but I know it's there. I doubt I could have set up anyway. "You shouldn't even be awake but I wasn't so sure I could wake you up again if you went to sleep."

She's alive! She's alive!

I don't want to close my eyes, afraid that she might fade away if I even so much as blink.

She's alive!

And that's enough to keep me alive until I can hold her in my arms again and tell her how I feel.



Later…

"There you go, boy." The man... the man from... before... I struggle to remember completely. I hated this man... and now I don't. How odd… Why don't I hate him? I can't remember. He… did something for me. Saved my life? No, that can't be it. I'd wanted to die. He did... "I'm sorry, but there was a bit of memory damage. I had to remove the corrupted areas. Do you still remember who you are?"

Of course I do. "I know who you are." He's the man I was supposed to kill. I never could, his son always getting in the way. I've only ever been this close to him once before. I want to kill him again, it's like it's hard wired into me to try and kill him every time I see him, whether I have a reason to kill him or not. I don't even hate him any more and the drive is still there. My homicidal thoughts are interrupted by the piano music. Whipping around, I remember why I'm here, why I allowed the man to save my life. I remember why I don't hate him. "Where is she?!?"

"She's in the music room." The man grabs my shoulder, holding me back for a moment. "Listen, boy, she's not the way she-"

"Get your hand off me." My voice is low and cold. Even my father had fear in his eyes when I used that voice. The old man responds the way I'd hoped he would, jerking his hand back like I'd electrocuted it. The smirk I give him quickly changes to a full-fledged, ear-to-ear, smile as I dash down the hallway. I know this house as well as I know my own, and have no problem running straight to the music room, where my golden haired angel still sets, playing her music while her eyes watch the ceiling. "I'm here! We made it! I told you we'd make it and…"

It's Beethoven's Ninth, Ode to Joy if I'm not mistaken, which is possible. I was never much of a fan of music and something much more pressing is on my mind. She didn't stop playing. Isn't she happy I'm here? She was so sure we were both going to die and we both made it! So why isn't she-

"It's as I tried to tell you." The old man caught up with me. He's careful not to touch me again, but doesn't show any fear in his old eyes. "She's not herself anymore. I wasn't able to get to her in time. All she can do anymore is mimic the actions of life. I can't do anything more for her."

"FIX HER, OLD MAN!" I grab him by the collar of his white lab coat and lift him completely off the ground. "FIX HER NOW!"

"I can't." He doesn't say it desperately or fearfully, but sadly. This is probably the first time he's ever had to admit to not being able to fix something, especially his own daughter. I lower him to the floor, seeing the tears well up in his eyes. He's a broken man now, his own heart having shattered with the loss of his only girl. For a moment I wish I could cry too, or somehow show my anguish over losing the one and only person I could ever have considered truly being in love with. But I'm not like her, and I'm not like the old man at my feet who's frantically trying to pull himself together. I'm a soldier, I destroy things, and I kill people. That is all I do.

"Where is he?" I don't have to say who, he knows the one I mean.

"He's fighting my sons. They're on the edge of the field; you can make it to the fight if you hurry. I've repaired your armor and your weapons, even upgraded them a bit." He gestures to the room I'd been lying in earlier as he operated on me. "There's a sword on the table. I was going to leave it for... leave it for my youngest. Take it." And with it take that bastard's life. I can hear him silently add that, at least my father would have added it. But then again, my father was killed by "that bastard" so who knows how much farther he would have taken it.

"I'm going." I dash into the room and scoop up the sword, quickly fitting it into my belt. I recognize it as a plasma saber. I've seen only a few in the past, but I was programmed to know how to use almost any weapon I can lay my hands on. Dashing to the transporter pad, I notice that the coordinates are already set. Stepping onto the pad, I give the fallen man one final look. "I'm going to go kill him for what he's done to her." With that, my world fades to purple, and my mind screams out, ready to kill my own brother.