Digimon: Conquering Middle Ground
Episode 4
"Discovery"
By: Shmeilia Rockie
A/N: This is when I begin time-jumping. Summer's over and school has started. Soon I'm going to jump a few years into the future, so I'm warning you now.
Ever since leaving the Digital World, his power had gone horribly awry. The visions would push their way to the surface of his mind, drownding out all intelligent thoughts at the most inconvinient times. 'Not now, please!' He rubbed his temple to block out the pressure. 'Focus, Cody, focus!'
A girl in front of him was talking. Funny, her mouth moved, but he couldn't hear her. He couldn't hear anything... The noise of the restaurant faded away.
And the screaming started.
So many people, in so much pain! Why wasn't he aware of this problem before? No, that wasn't the right question. He knew before. Why hadn't he understood?
"Cody?" The world snapped momentarily back into focus. The calm decended on him, shaking him even more. The next sound he heard was the sweet voice of his worried girlfriend, Yolei. "Are you okay?"
He sighed and smiled extremely fakely. "I just have a headache. I'm fine."
"Oh. It isn't one of THOSE headaches, is it?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. They'd been through this before.
"N-no. You were saying?" Again, the corners of his mouth turned up in a way that didn't touch his eyes.
She dug around in her purse for some painkillers and wondered loudly, "Honestly, Cody, I don't see why you bother trying to lie to me. You were never very good at it. And besides, I've known you since you were like, what, five? Come on, you'd think I'd know you well enough by now. Didn't your mother teach you better than to lie? Or is High School getting to you already? I swear-"
He held up a hand in surrender, not wanting to add a fight to his list of problems. "Yes, it is one of those headaches."
"That's better." She began dumping the contents of her purse onto the table, not caring if she made a scene. She pulled out some ice tongs and a battered copy of a Sailor Moon graphic novel out of a side pocket. A golf ball tumbled onto the floor before the little bottle showed itself. "Gotcha. Take a coupla these. They'll make you feel like you're floating!"
He pushed her hand away. "You know that won't help me, Yolei. This is my power we're talking about. It just won't-"
The scene fizzled and he found himself in a familiar living room. But everything looked gray and fuzzy. A voice echoed from the kitchen, distant, "...Don't give me that crap, Boy. I don't care if you are schizo. You use that like it's an excuse, and I won't tolerate it!" Then a slap and a heavy thud.
Then it hit him. Why the place seemed so familiar...It was Davis's house. And that was Davis's father talking. The knowlegde made him nausous. Figuring from past experiences that he couldn't be seen, Cody dared to venture into the kitchen.
"Father, please..." Davis squeaked. He held out his hand, but drew it quickly back. Tears streamed unrestrained down his face. "I'm sorry. I'm just so-"
"I'll tell you what you are, Boy. You're a worthless failure. I knew right away you'd turn out like this. I should have gotten rid of you in the beginning." He grabed Davis by the wrist and threw him against the refrigerator. "I don't want to hear another sound from you. I want you so quiet I don't even remember you exist. If you do utter a sound I'll make sure you regret it."
Just like that, his father left him there. Cody looked at his fellow Megadigidestined, now reduced to a quivering mass huddled in the corner. Davis looked at the bruise now forming right about where he wore a watch and mouthed the words, 'At least I can cover that up tomorrow.' He took a deep breath and held back a sob, wrapping his arms tightly around himself.
"Boy, get in here!" Davis scrambled back into the living room with Cody in toe. His visions never lasted this long before, but they were never about his friends before, either. Davis's father pointed to a spot on the floor by the couch and barked, "Sit here, where I can keep an eye on you." Davis quickly obeyed.
How could he do that to his own son, and then watch television like it was no big deal? Didn't he care about Davis at all? How long had this gone on without their knowing? Maybe that's why Davis always seemed a bit off, just a bit too hyper. Maybe he had just been covering up something like this. No wonder Keesma attacked him; he was easy prey. Any resentment Cody felt towards Davis evaporated as he watched the boy shake with uncontrolable fear at his father's feet.
Okay, Cody wanted out of this vision now. He'd seen way too much. Squeezing his eyes shut, he managed to float back into the restaurant. Yolei stared at him with wide, unblinking eyes. The atmosphere was strangely quiet, but he barely noticed.
The weight of the world dropped onto his shoulders as he realized the truth about Davis. Schizophrenia? Child abuse? How..?
Somehow he found his voice, but it sounded thick with emotion. "I think we should go now, Yolei."
"Okay," she quietly gathered her things and helped him out the door. After nine years, she knew to let him come around on his own time. But too much time passed, making it clear he wouldn't willingly share his experience. So she decided to pry a little. "What did you see?"
A shadow passed over his eyes. His voice was hollow, automatic, now. "I'm not ready to talk about it. It's too much. I need time to...Digest it, for a while. You understand."
He started off in the direction of their apartment building. "Sure." Her voice floated after him, concerned. He'd never been like this. Never lost his composure in public. And yet, he'd cried? How many times had she seen him cry? Once or twice, in all that time? Even in the midst of his most horrifing visions, he'd never lost it like that.
She didn't know what to do about it, either.
The wind blew softly, sending her lavander hair streaming off toward the moon. Something stirred inside her, made her call out to her best friend. "Cody, wait!"
This should have been a date. He should have kissed her good-night. Now he ran from her, afraid of not knowing what to say. He knew he was hurting her, but... The whole world spun painfully out of control. He couldn't stop it. He couldn't. He didn't deserve to be the leader of the Megadigidestined, not when he failed to help one of the team. If Yolei knew, she might leave him...
"I'm sorry, Yolei. I'm sorry." He sprinted the rest of the way home, leaving her far behind.
She was sure he wouldn't wait for her the next day, but there he was. He hadn't taken the care to style his hair, but other than that he seemed his normal self.
"How are you this morning?"
She shifted her backpack uneasily. "Fine. How 'bout you?"
He exhaled loudly and shook his head. "I'll be okay if I can fake it."
"Did you sleep okay?" The started toward the elevator.
Cody again shook his head. "I just kept seeing it over and over. I need to talk to him today."
"Who?" Oh, yeah, he had forgotten he hadn't actually told her.
"Davis."
* * * *
"Oh, hi Cody." Davis opened his locker, avoiding Cody's piercing gaze. He looked so pale, so sick. "W-what brings you around?"
There wasn't any point in beating around the bush. "I've been having visions lately. You know why."
Davis nodded softly in understanding.
"I see people who are in pain or need of our help."
"Yeah?" Something in his tone didn't feel right.
Before Davis could think, Cody grabbed his arm and proceeded to take off his watch. "What are you doing, man?" He tried to yank his arm away, but Cody had an amazingly strong grip. "Come on, shove off!"
The watch came off, as well as the arm band underneath, revealing a faint ring of bruises that looked a bit like fingerprints. Cody held up the evidence. "How'd this happen?"
"Leave me alone, Cody."
"No, Davis. I want to know. What happened last night?"
Davis began backing away like a frightened animal, his eyes screaming with the horror of reliving it. "I ate dinner, did my homework and went to bed early. Why do you care?"
He'd forgotten how stubborn Davis could be, especially when confronted. He changed tactics, tried to be a bit less imposing. His voice softened. "I saw what happened. I know you have... family problems."
Davis's right eye twitched slightly. He whirled around, grabbed some books and shoved them hastily into his backpack. "You don't know anything, okay? I deserved what I got last night."
Cody lowered his voice. "No one deserves that, Davis."
He slammed the locker shut and turned to face the younger boy. "Look, this is all a part of my punishment for what I did in the Digital World. You know, bad karma, or something. Now I have to go."
He walked off, leaving Cody lost in thought. Trying to pursue the subject anymore seemed futile. Bad karma...
Yolei had been watching from across the hall. Davis bumped into her during his flight, but didn't see her because of the tears blinding him. "Did you see the terror in his eyes?"
Cody nodded faintly.
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm not sure. There isn't much I can do. I have no proof, and it's not like I can just go to the authorities and say 'Yes, I've been having visions, and I'm afraid a friend of mine is a victim of child abuse'. They would ask me what kind of drugs I was using at the time of my vision."
Yolei bit her lip. "Poor Davis. You're right. No one should have to go through that."
"I might be able to tip off a teacher or something. But not now. I don't want him to know it was me."
There was an uneasy silence. They both stared after Davis, even though he was long gone. Finally, she offered, "I could do it."
"No, he'd still know I was responsible."
The warning bell rang. They looked at each other and parted without embracing. Somehow displaying that kind of warm affection didn't seem appropriate.
* * * *
EXT. PARK - BENCH - DAY
SUPER: Duck Tape Use #333
There is a giant man made out of duck tape sitting on a park bench.
CLOSE UP OF HEAD - He has a face drawn on with permanent marker - two angry eyes and a tongue sticking out of its mouth.
WIDE SHOT - Cody (in his old Digidestined clothes) runs in from the right, YELLING ANGRILY. He shouts a WAR CRY, picks up the duck tape dummy and throws it onto the ground. He beats it mercilessly, first with his kendo stick, then abadnons it and just tries to tear the dummy's limbs off. He yells and begins to punch the head endlessly.
SUPER: Anger Management
He has stopped, and is now breathing slowly and heavily. He sighs, gets up and puts the duck tape man on the bench sitting upright.
He looks at the dummy, and then pats it on the back. The dummy slides off the bench onto the ground.
SUPER: Stick with what works -
He then smoothes out his hair and clothes, saying to himself "I feel much better now". He then starts off to the left, walking confidently.
SUPER: Duck Tape
*A/N: Thanks to Falconess for this one. Hi Falconess, tankies!*
* * * *
The teacher adjusted his glasses and reread the paper one more time. "I just don't understand, Mr. Motomiya. The quality of your work should be improving, but it's only getting worse. Aren't your parents helping you? I know I talked to them about it."
That would explain the beating last few nights. "Yes, sir, but I-I'm having trouble focusing."
"Any particular reason?"
This was headed down the path to schizo-land, fast. He couldn't tell anyone about it, even if the medication did strange things to him. His father promised much pain if that secret ever got out. He shrugged. "Too many distractions?"
"I can tell you're making a genuine effort, but effort alone won't earn you good grades. You understand, don't you?"
No, not now. There was that stinging in the pit of his stomach that was generally followed by a welling up of tears. He pushed it down, with a terrible draining effort. "Yes, sir."
"Maybe we might need to consider getting you some extra help."
Davis winced. "Like a special aid class?"
The teacher smiled slightly. "No, like a tutor. Someone to work with you after school. After all, we need to help our star soccer player keep his slot on the team. You would need to quit if these grades drop any more."
Great. No pressure.
Not like he cared about soccer anymore... He just didn't have the energy for it these days. But he just HAD to keep up appearances. He bowed faintly, "Thank you, sir."
He knew a tutor wouldn't help him either. He looked out the window at the rising sun, longing to escape the whole world. It seemed he'd barely seated himself when the bell rang to go to next hour. Again, he had zoned out, missing the day's lesson. Next thing he knew, it was time for lunch. He got to the cafeteria only to discover he had no appetite. Then he was in bed taking a nap before his parents got home.
How did that happen?
He sat up and rubbed the side of his head, recalling a blurry memory of activity on the soccer feild that must have been practice. Strange, it seemed more like a dream than reality. He remembered it happening, but didn't remember being there. But his muscles told him it had happened, so it couldn't have been just a dream.
Couldn't it? It was so hard to tell lately. "Blasted medication," he sighed. He knew the medication had nothing to do with it, but he needed something to blame. He took a quick shower and waited patiently in the dark for his father to come home. Then he could recieve proper punishment for simply existing. Funny how he seemed alive only when experiencing extreme physical and emotional pain. It reminded him of...
Keesma.
Part of him still called out to her. She haunted his dreams, when he had them. He tried telling himself it was only because she had his other crest, but somehow he knew that wasn't the only reason. She had been right when she said he needed abuse. He always had.
"Eat, dear, your food is getting cold."
He looked up at his mother. Were they having dinner already? Why was he loosing all this time?
The cause decided to present itself from ontop of his head. "Yeah, eat dinner, or you'll waste away. Not like you're not gaining a lot of weight, eh?"
Chaos. Or was it Apathy? They all sounded alike.
It could read his mind. "Apathy, my man. Why else would life pass you by at such an incredible rate? Or why you have no appetite? Careful, I might do it again."
Somehow, he couldn't work up the desire to eat. It hardly seemed worth the energy. Now he understood why Apathy was a Dark Digidestined. He couldn't even respond, but just lay there with his head on the table, staring up at his mother with pleading eyes. His strength drained completely away.
She ruffled his hair and spoke softly, "Its okay, Davis. You don't-"
His father pounded his fist on the table. "Yes, he does. Eat. Now, child."
She tried to be bold for once, and stick up for her son. "Don't raise your voice. You know what the doctor said-"
"I don't care what that quack said," he yelled. "This kid doesn't appreciate anything around here! It makes me sick."
Davis felt that familiar stinging again as emotion penitrated the fog of unconcern Apathy had put around him. But he would have rather felt nothing. That would be a relief. Soon, he knew, Fear would take his place in his mind. No! He wasn't ready to swing that direction yet. He actually enjoyed not feeling anything. Too late, though. The transition had already taken place.
He sat up and began shoveling food in his mouth in an effort to please his father. Lord, he was nothing but a puppet! A puppet to his father as well as the evil creatures living in his mind. He ate so fast he thought he would be sick, but he didn't care. Anything to avoid what he knew would come next.
"See, dear, you worry too much. I knew he was faking it."
Davis winced, fighting the urge to hurl. No one noticed. "M-may I be excused, Father?"
He didn't even look at his son. "No, you may not. You will sit here and do your homework."
"Yes sir."
His mother stood up and threw her napkin on the table. She turned to Davis with disappointment and exhaustion in her voice as she spoke, "The quilting circle is getting together in fifteen minutes. You won't be needing too much help, I hope."
He managed to work up a weak smile. "No, Mom. You go ahead and enjoy yourself."
She kissed his forehead and coldly left without another word. Ever since his diagnosis she'd been awfully distant, going out every night. She knew her husband beat her son almost every night. Davis knew she knew, and didn't blame her a bit for running away. He probably would too, given her postition. It's not like she could do anything about it... She would only put herself in the path of the monster as well.
Davis brought his books to the table and looked at the cover of one of them, searching his memory despirately for any of his assignments. He couldn't remember a thing, not under the hawk-like stare his father had locked on him. Trying to act calm, he opened his literature book and started reading a story they hadn't covered in class yet. But when he looked at the page, all he saw were a collection of random letters. None of them connected to form words or sentences. That had been exactly what had happened the last time he tried to write a paper. Everything scrambled around in his brain until it didn't make a lick of sense. And he'd handed in that piece of crap, too. The words of his teacher echoed back to him, 'I can tell you're making a genuine effort, but effort alone won't earn you good grades.' A single tear dropped onto the page.
"Something wrong, Son?" He practically spat that last word.
"N-no, sir." The tears were welling up from that hole in his soul, now. Ashamed, he turned away. A shadow fell over him.
"You're lying to me again. I always know it when you lie to me." Before Davis could say a word in defense, his father grabbed him by the wrist and yanked him out of the chair. "Must we go through this every night, Davis? Must I beat everthing out of you? Why do you lie?"
Up against the wall and strong hands around his throat. He'd never been strangled before; his father always had enough since to beat him where it couldn't been seen. Fear kicked into overdrive. "I'm sorry! I-The words...I can't read them. They're all mixed up!"
More pressure. He was beginning to see spots now. "But that's not all, is it?"
He told him everything that had happened that day: his bad incident with the teacher, his inability to focus, and his lapse of memory. "...I'm sorry. I guess the medicine was making me tired."
"Tired?" His father roared, throwing him to the floor. He heard a loud crack and the world bounced momentarily away. "I'll give you tired, Boy."
The lines in the linolium tiling ran like train tracks to the livingroom. Davis rode the lines into a misty, dazed state. If he could just lay there long enough, the man would get bored and leave him alone. But he was loosing his grip on the world again. Fog swirled around, until even the tracks were lost.
He knew where he was, and he didn't like it. Being in the dream-place meant he had blacked out. The Dark Digidestined lurked out there in the fog. But Raidramon was also there, somewhere, trying to fight them off. Longing to find his friend again, he climbed to his feet and ventured into the unknown.
Who knows how long he wandered around, calling Raidramon's name. Time passed differently there than in the real world. He heard strange sound as he rounded the corner. The wind blew, the fog parted and he saw something that made him literally sick. It was himself, lying unconscious, maybe even dead there on the bare dirt. All three of the Dark Digidestined's essences drank the blood that poured out of holes in his head. He couldn't possibly have that much blood. No one did.
He gasped, alerting them to his presence. Their red eyes locked on him and they laughed wickedly.
He took off at top speed, trying to escape the horrifing vision. They were behind him, chasing him. Into some old ruins, he ran. When he tripped he thought they would catch him, but they had vanished.
Instead, he heard a familiar voice. "Davis? Why are you running from me?"
"Raidramon?" He turned to see the friendly face of his Digimon. He gave the wolf a big bear hug. "Oh, I missed you! I thought they would eat me!"
"Who?"
"The Dark Digidestined. That's who I've been running from."
Raidramon's eyes softened, "But I've been behind you the whole time."
Suddenly, Davis felt very tired. He looked away, ashamed.
"Let me show you something." Raidramon nudged Davis gently, indicating that he wanted Davis to climb on his back. He did. He felt safe there, and dozed off while they rode through the darkness. "Davis, we're here."
Davis woke to see two stone goblets. The larger one had nothing in it, but the other one contained a weak blue flame. "What is this?"
"This is all that's left of your soul, Davis. The other one should have an orange fire, but..."
He rolled off his Digimon's back and stepped closer to it. He felt he shouldn't be there, like it was holy ground. He reached out to the little flame, but quickly drew his hand back. "It's so cold. It's like it's sucking the energy out of me!"
"It should be giving off energy, but it's like a black hole. Eventually, it will consume itself."
"Not soon enough, though."
"No, Davis, I'm afraid you are right. You will die a slow death, longing for relief. I only wish I could help you more."
*A/N: Whoo-doggie, I just abuse Davis to no end! But I love him, I do! He's my favorite character! Remember: You always hurt the ones you love. Poor Davis...Cody's becoming a stronger character, but slowly...My whole story moves extremely slowly, I noticed. Oh, well. Maybe I'll write a lot now that summer is here. Probably not, sorry. I'm trying. Really. I am. *sighs* Writer's Block, again. Gets me every time.
Episode 4
"Discovery"
By: Shmeilia Rockie
A/N: This is when I begin time-jumping. Summer's over and school has started. Soon I'm going to jump a few years into the future, so I'm warning you now.
Ever since leaving the Digital World, his power had gone horribly awry. The visions would push their way to the surface of his mind, drownding out all intelligent thoughts at the most inconvinient times. 'Not now, please!' He rubbed his temple to block out the pressure. 'Focus, Cody, focus!'
A girl in front of him was talking. Funny, her mouth moved, but he couldn't hear her. He couldn't hear anything... The noise of the restaurant faded away.
And the screaming started.
So many people, in so much pain! Why wasn't he aware of this problem before? No, that wasn't the right question. He knew before. Why hadn't he understood?
"Cody?" The world snapped momentarily back into focus. The calm decended on him, shaking him even more. The next sound he heard was the sweet voice of his worried girlfriend, Yolei. "Are you okay?"
He sighed and smiled extremely fakely. "I just have a headache. I'm fine."
"Oh. It isn't one of THOSE headaches, is it?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. They'd been through this before.
"N-no. You were saying?" Again, the corners of his mouth turned up in a way that didn't touch his eyes.
She dug around in her purse for some painkillers and wondered loudly, "Honestly, Cody, I don't see why you bother trying to lie to me. You were never very good at it. And besides, I've known you since you were like, what, five? Come on, you'd think I'd know you well enough by now. Didn't your mother teach you better than to lie? Or is High School getting to you already? I swear-"
He held up a hand in surrender, not wanting to add a fight to his list of problems. "Yes, it is one of those headaches."
"That's better." She began dumping the contents of her purse onto the table, not caring if she made a scene. She pulled out some ice tongs and a battered copy of a Sailor Moon graphic novel out of a side pocket. A golf ball tumbled onto the floor before the little bottle showed itself. "Gotcha. Take a coupla these. They'll make you feel like you're floating!"
He pushed her hand away. "You know that won't help me, Yolei. This is my power we're talking about. It just won't-"
The scene fizzled and he found himself in a familiar living room. But everything looked gray and fuzzy. A voice echoed from the kitchen, distant, "...Don't give me that crap, Boy. I don't care if you are schizo. You use that like it's an excuse, and I won't tolerate it!" Then a slap and a heavy thud.
Then it hit him. Why the place seemed so familiar...It was Davis's house. And that was Davis's father talking. The knowlegde made him nausous. Figuring from past experiences that he couldn't be seen, Cody dared to venture into the kitchen.
"Father, please..." Davis squeaked. He held out his hand, but drew it quickly back. Tears streamed unrestrained down his face. "I'm sorry. I'm just so-"
"I'll tell you what you are, Boy. You're a worthless failure. I knew right away you'd turn out like this. I should have gotten rid of you in the beginning." He grabed Davis by the wrist and threw him against the refrigerator. "I don't want to hear another sound from you. I want you so quiet I don't even remember you exist. If you do utter a sound I'll make sure you regret it."
Just like that, his father left him there. Cody looked at his fellow Megadigidestined, now reduced to a quivering mass huddled in the corner. Davis looked at the bruise now forming right about where he wore a watch and mouthed the words, 'At least I can cover that up tomorrow.' He took a deep breath and held back a sob, wrapping his arms tightly around himself.
"Boy, get in here!" Davis scrambled back into the living room with Cody in toe. His visions never lasted this long before, but they were never about his friends before, either. Davis's father pointed to a spot on the floor by the couch and barked, "Sit here, where I can keep an eye on you." Davis quickly obeyed.
How could he do that to his own son, and then watch television like it was no big deal? Didn't he care about Davis at all? How long had this gone on without their knowing? Maybe that's why Davis always seemed a bit off, just a bit too hyper. Maybe he had just been covering up something like this. No wonder Keesma attacked him; he was easy prey. Any resentment Cody felt towards Davis evaporated as he watched the boy shake with uncontrolable fear at his father's feet.
Okay, Cody wanted out of this vision now. He'd seen way too much. Squeezing his eyes shut, he managed to float back into the restaurant. Yolei stared at him with wide, unblinking eyes. The atmosphere was strangely quiet, but he barely noticed.
The weight of the world dropped onto his shoulders as he realized the truth about Davis. Schizophrenia? Child abuse? How..?
Somehow he found his voice, but it sounded thick with emotion. "I think we should go now, Yolei."
"Okay," she quietly gathered her things and helped him out the door. After nine years, she knew to let him come around on his own time. But too much time passed, making it clear he wouldn't willingly share his experience. So she decided to pry a little. "What did you see?"
A shadow passed over his eyes. His voice was hollow, automatic, now. "I'm not ready to talk about it. It's too much. I need time to...Digest it, for a while. You understand."
He started off in the direction of their apartment building. "Sure." Her voice floated after him, concerned. He'd never been like this. Never lost his composure in public. And yet, he'd cried? How many times had she seen him cry? Once or twice, in all that time? Even in the midst of his most horrifing visions, he'd never lost it like that.
She didn't know what to do about it, either.
The wind blew softly, sending her lavander hair streaming off toward the moon. Something stirred inside her, made her call out to her best friend. "Cody, wait!"
This should have been a date. He should have kissed her good-night. Now he ran from her, afraid of not knowing what to say. He knew he was hurting her, but... The whole world spun painfully out of control. He couldn't stop it. He couldn't. He didn't deserve to be the leader of the Megadigidestined, not when he failed to help one of the team. If Yolei knew, she might leave him...
"I'm sorry, Yolei. I'm sorry." He sprinted the rest of the way home, leaving her far behind.
She was sure he wouldn't wait for her the next day, but there he was. He hadn't taken the care to style his hair, but other than that he seemed his normal self.
"How are you this morning?"
She shifted her backpack uneasily. "Fine. How 'bout you?"
He exhaled loudly and shook his head. "I'll be okay if I can fake it."
"Did you sleep okay?" The started toward the elevator.
Cody again shook his head. "I just kept seeing it over and over. I need to talk to him today."
"Who?" Oh, yeah, he had forgotten he hadn't actually told her.
"Davis."
* * * *
"Oh, hi Cody." Davis opened his locker, avoiding Cody's piercing gaze. He looked so pale, so sick. "W-what brings you around?"
There wasn't any point in beating around the bush. "I've been having visions lately. You know why."
Davis nodded softly in understanding.
"I see people who are in pain or need of our help."
"Yeah?" Something in his tone didn't feel right.
Before Davis could think, Cody grabbed his arm and proceeded to take off his watch. "What are you doing, man?" He tried to yank his arm away, but Cody had an amazingly strong grip. "Come on, shove off!"
The watch came off, as well as the arm band underneath, revealing a faint ring of bruises that looked a bit like fingerprints. Cody held up the evidence. "How'd this happen?"
"Leave me alone, Cody."
"No, Davis. I want to know. What happened last night?"
Davis began backing away like a frightened animal, his eyes screaming with the horror of reliving it. "I ate dinner, did my homework and went to bed early. Why do you care?"
He'd forgotten how stubborn Davis could be, especially when confronted. He changed tactics, tried to be a bit less imposing. His voice softened. "I saw what happened. I know you have... family problems."
Davis's right eye twitched slightly. He whirled around, grabbed some books and shoved them hastily into his backpack. "You don't know anything, okay? I deserved what I got last night."
Cody lowered his voice. "No one deserves that, Davis."
He slammed the locker shut and turned to face the younger boy. "Look, this is all a part of my punishment for what I did in the Digital World. You know, bad karma, or something. Now I have to go."
He walked off, leaving Cody lost in thought. Trying to pursue the subject anymore seemed futile. Bad karma...
Yolei had been watching from across the hall. Davis bumped into her during his flight, but didn't see her because of the tears blinding him. "Did you see the terror in his eyes?"
Cody nodded faintly.
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm not sure. There isn't much I can do. I have no proof, and it's not like I can just go to the authorities and say 'Yes, I've been having visions, and I'm afraid a friend of mine is a victim of child abuse'. They would ask me what kind of drugs I was using at the time of my vision."
Yolei bit her lip. "Poor Davis. You're right. No one should have to go through that."
"I might be able to tip off a teacher or something. But not now. I don't want him to know it was me."
There was an uneasy silence. They both stared after Davis, even though he was long gone. Finally, she offered, "I could do it."
"No, he'd still know I was responsible."
The warning bell rang. They looked at each other and parted without embracing. Somehow displaying that kind of warm affection didn't seem appropriate.
* * * *
EXT. PARK - BENCH - DAY
SUPER: Duck Tape Use #333
There is a giant man made out of duck tape sitting on a park bench.
CLOSE UP OF HEAD - He has a face drawn on with permanent marker - two angry eyes and a tongue sticking out of its mouth.
WIDE SHOT - Cody (in his old Digidestined clothes) runs in from the right, YELLING ANGRILY. He shouts a WAR CRY, picks up the duck tape dummy and throws it onto the ground. He beats it mercilessly, first with his kendo stick, then abadnons it and just tries to tear the dummy's limbs off. He yells and begins to punch the head endlessly.
SUPER: Anger Management
He has stopped, and is now breathing slowly and heavily. He sighs, gets up and puts the duck tape man on the bench sitting upright.
He looks at the dummy, and then pats it on the back. The dummy slides off the bench onto the ground.
SUPER: Stick with what works -
He then smoothes out his hair and clothes, saying to himself "I feel much better now". He then starts off to the left, walking confidently.
SUPER: Duck Tape
*A/N: Thanks to Falconess for this one. Hi Falconess, tankies!*
* * * *
The teacher adjusted his glasses and reread the paper one more time. "I just don't understand, Mr. Motomiya. The quality of your work should be improving, but it's only getting worse. Aren't your parents helping you? I know I talked to them about it."
That would explain the beating last few nights. "Yes, sir, but I-I'm having trouble focusing."
"Any particular reason?"
This was headed down the path to schizo-land, fast. He couldn't tell anyone about it, even if the medication did strange things to him. His father promised much pain if that secret ever got out. He shrugged. "Too many distractions?"
"I can tell you're making a genuine effort, but effort alone won't earn you good grades. You understand, don't you?"
No, not now. There was that stinging in the pit of his stomach that was generally followed by a welling up of tears. He pushed it down, with a terrible draining effort. "Yes, sir."
"Maybe we might need to consider getting you some extra help."
Davis winced. "Like a special aid class?"
The teacher smiled slightly. "No, like a tutor. Someone to work with you after school. After all, we need to help our star soccer player keep his slot on the team. You would need to quit if these grades drop any more."
Great. No pressure.
Not like he cared about soccer anymore... He just didn't have the energy for it these days. But he just HAD to keep up appearances. He bowed faintly, "Thank you, sir."
He knew a tutor wouldn't help him either. He looked out the window at the rising sun, longing to escape the whole world. It seemed he'd barely seated himself when the bell rang to go to next hour. Again, he had zoned out, missing the day's lesson. Next thing he knew, it was time for lunch. He got to the cafeteria only to discover he had no appetite. Then he was in bed taking a nap before his parents got home.
How did that happen?
He sat up and rubbed the side of his head, recalling a blurry memory of activity on the soccer feild that must have been practice. Strange, it seemed more like a dream than reality. He remembered it happening, but didn't remember being there. But his muscles told him it had happened, so it couldn't have been just a dream.
Couldn't it? It was so hard to tell lately. "Blasted medication," he sighed. He knew the medication had nothing to do with it, but he needed something to blame. He took a quick shower and waited patiently in the dark for his father to come home. Then he could recieve proper punishment for simply existing. Funny how he seemed alive only when experiencing extreme physical and emotional pain. It reminded him of...
Keesma.
Part of him still called out to her. She haunted his dreams, when he had them. He tried telling himself it was only because she had his other crest, but somehow he knew that wasn't the only reason. She had been right when she said he needed abuse. He always had.
"Eat, dear, your food is getting cold."
He looked up at his mother. Were they having dinner already? Why was he loosing all this time?
The cause decided to present itself from ontop of his head. "Yeah, eat dinner, or you'll waste away. Not like you're not gaining a lot of weight, eh?"
Chaos. Or was it Apathy? They all sounded alike.
It could read his mind. "Apathy, my man. Why else would life pass you by at such an incredible rate? Or why you have no appetite? Careful, I might do it again."
Somehow, he couldn't work up the desire to eat. It hardly seemed worth the energy. Now he understood why Apathy was a Dark Digidestined. He couldn't even respond, but just lay there with his head on the table, staring up at his mother with pleading eyes. His strength drained completely away.
She ruffled his hair and spoke softly, "Its okay, Davis. You don't-"
His father pounded his fist on the table. "Yes, he does. Eat. Now, child."
She tried to be bold for once, and stick up for her son. "Don't raise your voice. You know what the doctor said-"
"I don't care what that quack said," he yelled. "This kid doesn't appreciate anything around here! It makes me sick."
Davis felt that familiar stinging again as emotion penitrated the fog of unconcern Apathy had put around him. But he would have rather felt nothing. That would be a relief. Soon, he knew, Fear would take his place in his mind. No! He wasn't ready to swing that direction yet. He actually enjoyed not feeling anything. Too late, though. The transition had already taken place.
He sat up and began shoveling food in his mouth in an effort to please his father. Lord, he was nothing but a puppet! A puppet to his father as well as the evil creatures living in his mind. He ate so fast he thought he would be sick, but he didn't care. Anything to avoid what he knew would come next.
"See, dear, you worry too much. I knew he was faking it."
Davis winced, fighting the urge to hurl. No one noticed. "M-may I be excused, Father?"
He didn't even look at his son. "No, you may not. You will sit here and do your homework."
"Yes sir."
His mother stood up and threw her napkin on the table. She turned to Davis with disappointment and exhaustion in her voice as she spoke, "The quilting circle is getting together in fifteen minutes. You won't be needing too much help, I hope."
He managed to work up a weak smile. "No, Mom. You go ahead and enjoy yourself."
She kissed his forehead and coldly left without another word. Ever since his diagnosis she'd been awfully distant, going out every night. She knew her husband beat her son almost every night. Davis knew she knew, and didn't blame her a bit for running away. He probably would too, given her postition. It's not like she could do anything about it... She would only put herself in the path of the monster as well.
Davis brought his books to the table and looked at the cover of one of them, searching his memory despirately for any of his assignments. He couldn't remember a thing, not under the hawk-like stare his father had locked on him. Trying to act calm, he opened his literature book and started reading a story they hadn't covered in class yet. But when he looked at the page, all he saw were a collection of random letters. None of them connected to form words or sentences. That had been exactly what had happened the last time he tried to write a paper. Everything scrambled around in his brain until it didn't make a lick of sense. And he'd handed in that piece of crap, too. The words of his teacher echoed back to him, 'I can tell you're making a genuine effort, but effort alone won't earn you good grades.' A single tear dropped onto the page.
"Something wrong, Son?" He practically spat that last word.
"N-no, sir." The tears were welling up from that hole in his soul, now. Ashamed, he turned away. A shadow fell over him.
"You're lying to me again. I always know it when you lie to me." Before Davis could say a word in defense, his father grabbed him by the wrist and yanked him out of the chair. "Must we go through this every night, Davis? Must I beat everthing out of you? Why do you lie?"
Up against the wall and strong hands around his throat. He'd never been strangled before; his father always had enough since to beat him where it couldn't been seen. Fear kicked into overdrive. "I'm sorry! I-The words...I can't read them. They're all mixed up!"
More pressure. He was beginning to see spots now. "But that's not all, is it?"
He told him everything that had happened that day: his bad incident with the teacher, his inability to focus, and his lapse of memory. "...I'm sorry. I guess the medicine was making me tired."
"Tired?" His father roared, throwing him to the floor. He heard a loud crack and the world bounced momentarily away. "I'll give you tired, Boy."
The lines in the linolium tiling ran like train tracks to the livingroom. Davis rode the lines into a misty, dazed state. If he could just lay there long enough, the man would get bored and leave him alone. But he was loosing his grip on the world again. Fog swirled around, until even the tracks were lost.
He knew where he was, and he didn't like it. Being in the dream-place meant he had blacked out. The Dark Digidestined lurked out there in the fog. But Raidramon was also there, somewhere, trying to fight them off. Longing to find his friend again, he climbed to his feet and ventured into the unknown.
Who knows how long he wandered around, calling Raidramon's name. Time passed differently there than in the real world. He heard strange sound as he rounded the corner. The wind blew, the fog parted and he saw something that made him literally sick. It was himself, lying unconscious, maybe even dead there on the bare dirt. All three of the Dark Digidestined's essences drank the blood that poured out of holes in his head. He couldn't possibly have that much blood. No one did.
He gasped, alerting them to his presence. Their red eyes locked on him and they laughed wickedly.
He took off at top speed, trying to escape the horrifing vision. They were behind him, chasing him. Into some old ruins, he ran. When he tripped he thought they would catch him, but they had vanished.
Instead, he heard a familiar voice. "Davis? Why are you running from me?"
"Raidramon?" He turned to see the friendly face of his Digimon. He gave the wolf a big bear hug. "Oh, I missed you! I thought they would eat me!"
"Who?"
"The Dark Digidestined. That's who I've been running from."
Raidramon's eyes softened, "But I've been behind you the whole time."
Suddenly, Davis felt very tired. He looked away, ashamed.
"Let me show you something." Raidramon nudged Davis gently, indicating that he wanted Davis to climb on his back. He did. He felt safe there, and dozed off while they rode through the darkness. "Davis, we're here."
Davis woke to see two stone goblets. The larger one had nothing in it, but the other one contained a weak blue flame. "What is this?"
"This is all that's left of your soul, Davis. The other one should have an orange fire, but..."
He rolled off his Digimon's back and stepped closer to it. He felt he shouldn't be there, like it was holy ground. He reached out to the little flame, but quickly drew his hand back. "It's so cold. It's like it's sucking the energy out of me!"
"It should be giving off energy, but it's like a black hole. Eventually, it will consume itself."
"Not soon enough, though."
"No, Davis, I'm afraid you are right. You will die a slow death, longing for relief. I only wish I could help you more."
*A/N: Whoo-doggie, I just abuse Davis to no end! But I love him, I do! He's my favorite character! Remember: You always hurt the ones you love. Poor Davis...Cody's becoming a stronger character, but slowly...My whole story moves extremely slowly, I noticed. Oh, well. Maybe I'll write a lot now that summer is here. Probably not, sorry. I'm trying. Really. I am. *sighs* Writer's Block, again. Gets me every time.