Despite earlier plans to do the resurrection ceremony in two parts, I decided to combine it all into one big chapter. That means the story will be over a lot sooner than I'd planned. Damn. Warnings for this chapter: it's kind of gory, but not enough to make you lose your lunch. My definition of gory is anything bigger than a papercut, though.
Duo chewed on the pad of his thumb, glancing about Quatre's bedroom with agitation. He felt as though he was missing something, some important ingredient or piece of equipment, but he couldn't think of what. With an annoyed squeak, he crossed the creaking floor to the bureau, where he'd propped up a huge, yellowing book with a thick black binding.
"I love this thing. Let's see, 'Necromancy for the Average Village Idiot.' That's what we need, considering Wufei's going to be helping out. Right, so…hmm, raising zombie armies, no, calling back the recently deceased, no, aha! Resurrecting those long passed on, bingo. Necessary ingredients: black candles, check. Anointing oil, check. Holy water, check. Tarpaulin, check. Various ingredients of questionable origin, check. Subject's corpse…oh, that's what we need. Okay, that's no biggie."
The longhaired man wandered down the spiral staircase into the hallway where the scientists were residing for the weekend.
"Hey! Who wants to come dig up a cadaver in the backyard?" he hollered.
Wufei stuck his head out the door. "Idiot! Barton's asleep!" he hissed.
"Shit, sorry. Come on, Chang-a-lang-a-ding-dong, you'll help me shovel up Quatre's wormy remains, right? I'll bet Trowa gives you a bonus in your next paycheck for helping out."
Wufei sighed crossly, pulling on his work boots and a navy blue windbreaker. "Fine."
Heero, Catherine, and Mariemaia appeared almost out of nowhere as well, the latter carrying a large camping lantern.
"Monsieur Yuy said you needed shovels. Follow me, si vous plait."
They were led down a tiny set of stairs outside, to a gardening shed tucked innocuously away from the castle. Mariemaia unlocked it and passed spades to the three men, giving Catherine the lantern.
"I don't even want to know what you're up to, but if you need anything, just send for me or Sylvia, and we'll get it. Okay?"
They nodded and trouped out into the cemetery, Catherine leading the way with the lantern.
~^~
"All right, guys, here's the deal. This is Quatre's grave. These are shovels. Our mission: dig up Quatre's grave and get his remains out in as close to one piece as we can," Duo instructed, stamping down on the shovel and pitching a dirt clod over his shoulder. Heero and Wufei, not wanting to question the slightly insane necromancer, complied, digging in. Catherine held the lantern overhead, illuminating the small plot.
"So…why are we…doing this again?" Wufei grunted, wiping his forehead as they dug further into the ground, already about a quarter of the way to the relative location of the coffin.
"Because," Duo panted. "Trowa's…in love. If we…don't resurrect…Quatre, or at least try…he'll…be absolutely miserable…both of them. And Trowa might…try and commit suicide."
Heero nodded. "I can see that happening. Why isn't he out here helping?"
"For one thing, he's asleep. And…I thought it might be too hard on him if we asked him to dig up his boyfriend. You know?"
Just then, someone with a shovel jumped into the open grave, leaning on the handle and looking slightly piqued.
"So you're just going to dig him up for me, bring him back to life, and then tell me when it's all over, Deuteronomy Maxwell?" a dark baritone voice queried.
Duo's luminous violet eyes went saucer-wide. "Shit."
Heero placed a hand on the brunette scientist's shoulder. "Trowa, help if you must, but we'll understand. This would be too much for me if I were in your position."
He nodded and continued to shovel with the rest of them, plowing away at the dirt until the tip of someone's spade struck with a resonant 'thunk.' Everyone stopped, staring at the ground beneath them. A wooden coffin should not have lasted two hundred years; it should have rotted away completely. Duo and Wufei knelt down, brushing aside the dirt. Sure enough, though it was in rough condition, splintering in moist chunks, the casket was still intact. The four men dug around the sides until it was raised from the ground enough to take hold of the pallbearers' straps and hoist it the rest of the way.
"Cathy! Haul down the ladders, will ya?" Duo shouted up. A pair of metal ladders dropped into the open grave, side-by-side. With two men on either side of the casket, one hand firmly gripping the gold pallbearers' straps and the other on the ladder, they slowly ascended from the crypt with the coffin in tow. Catherine stepped back as they climbed out, gently dropping the sarcophagus on the spongy ground.
"Wow, it's like, whole. Why's that?" she asked.
Heero toed a side. "Looks like they coated it with some sort of chemical and painted the innards with gold or gold plate. Held up pretty well."
Wufei nudged it with the tip of his shovel. "Should we open it?"
All eyes went to Trowa. He bit his lip, glancing down at the moldering coffin.
"Yeah."
Duo bent over, unclasping the hinges on the coffin and carefully swinging the lid back. Trowa was quietly muttering to himself, his fingernails digging into his palms as he fisted his hands at his sides. The team of scientists slowly peered over the lip of the coffin, nervous expressions on their faces. A yellowed skeleton grinned up at them, bony fingers clasped over his chest, shreds of a pale rose waistcoat and navy blue breeches still clinging to the bones, wisps of pale blonde hair still rooted in the scalp. Heero placed a firm hand on Trowa's shoulder.
"It's not him. He's inside, waiting for you," he murmured. Trowa nodded, though he was visibly shaking. Catherine shot him a sympathetic look, though it seemed eerie and disjointed from the torchlight.
"We'll take it upstairs ourselves, give you a couple of moments, Tro. Just make sure you get up there when you're ready, this won't work without you," Duo remarked, dropping his shovel on the ground and taking up the casket again. His husband and colleague took the other straps, Catherine following with the lamp.
Trowa stood over the empty grave for a moment, watching the solemn procession as the others carried the skeletal remains of his lover back towards the castle. The hideous visage of the corpse was all that his mind could focus on, no matter how many times he told himself that it wasn't truly Quatre, just an empty shell without a soul. He knelt on the ground, violently trembling, one shuddering hand gripping the earth as he threw up.
"It's all right," a calm voice whispered in his ear as he continued to heave, retching dryly after there was nothing left. "It's all right, Trowa, it's all right."
He rose slowly, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, spitting to expel the bitter taste. Trowa glanced about with watering eyes for his lover, but Quatre was nowhere in sight. He let out a slow breath, nodding a small thanks, and slowly plodded his way back towards the castle, where the others were waiting.
~^~
The other scientists deposited the coffin on the bed, which Duo had already covered with a heavy tarpaulin. Pillbugs that had been burrowing through the wood shook loose as the sarcophagus was dropped down onto the mattress, springing slightly. The corner of Duo's mouth twitched as he pulled a lighter from his pocket, solemnly walking about the tiny room in the turret of Peacecraft Castle, igniting the wicks of the many black candles. Catherine turned out the lights, and the room became awash with an eerie yellow glow.
"We'll just give Trowa a minute," Duo stated. "Besides, I have to find the right page."
Wufei frowned, folding his arms across his toned chest. "Do you really expect this to work, Maxwell? This isn't some hokey B-rated science fiction movie, you know."
Duo glared at Wufei, his dark eyes glittering malevolently in the pale light. "I'll have you know that it does so work, I've performed a bunch of necromancy rituals, successful ones, I might add. Right, Heero?"
"He brought our parakeet back to life six times," the Japanese man said matter-of-factly. "And I got a premonition a moment ago. Something big is going to happen tonight."
Trowa sauntered into the room, closing the door behind him. "Let's get this thing over with as quickly as possible, Duo."
The violet-eyed necromancer nodded, thumbing over another page of his thick grimoire.
"Can do, Tro. All right, the book says I have to read this before anything else happens. Lady and gentlemen, we are gathered here this evening to revive Quatre Raberba Winner in both body and spirit. Should there be anyone, mortal or divine, who does not wish this ceremony to proceed, may they speak now."
Not a sound was uttered, no god made their disapprovals known.
"Okay. We've laid out the body, the candles are lit, all we need to do is mark the floor with a circle of dirt from the grave. Dammit, I forgot to get grave dirt. Everybody shake out their shoes."
Shoes were removed and banged together until a small pile of dirt fell to the floor. This Duo sprinkled around the perimeter of the bed and coffin, muttering words in an odd tongue as he did so.
"Now we have to anoint the body with ceremonial oil and holy water…funny, using holy water in a sacrilegious ceremony. Ah, whatever."
He strapped on a pair of rubber gloves, dribbling oil and water on the corpse, smearing it with his fingers in runic patterns, still chanting in a husky voice. The room seemed to hum with a dark energy, crackling with faint sparks.
"And then we have to…" Duo's voice trailed off as he went to pour another vial of something into the open casket, tossing glittering powder behind it, chanting all the while. The hum in the room grew stronger, energy now visibly crackling like lightning at the ceiling. Catherine gripped her brother's arm tightly, digging painted nails into his flesh.
"All right, this is the important part. Trowa, you have to come here," Duo instructed, shoving a loose lock of hair out of his way. Trowa cautiously stepped forward after prying his sister from her viselike grip.
"First of all, you need to give the body an 'offering,' something that will connect the two of you. Once you have connected with the body, it will be a whole lot easier not only to revive the body, but to get Quatre into it," he explained. The green-eyed man nodded, slipping the thin silver band off from his own finger and gently sliding it onto the fine-boned finger of the corpse. It seemed to glow with its own flickering light.
"Good, that's good, you're doing fine. Now this is the worst part of any necromancy, you get through this, it's pretty much smooth sailing. The body needs blood, and since you have now connected with the body, it has to be your blood, Trowa. Give me your hand."
Trowa reluctantly held out his right hand, palm up. Duo swabbed it with a little disinfectant and a numbing agent, then ran the blade of a little silver knife straight down the lifeline. Blood welled up in the crack, pooling in his hand. Trowa looked at him expectantly.
"Pour it on his chest, where his heart should be."
Trowa tipped his hand, watching with a gross fascination as his blood trickled down the cracked ribs and the sternum, dark red in contrast with the yellow bones. Duo whispered something in his serpentine tongue, eyes dancing with hellfire. He slapped a band-aid on the laceration and bade Trowa watch.
The blood had not collected in the bottom of the coffin, as was expected. Instead, it hovered in the chest, a bright ruby bead. A hollow, squelching sound resounded, followed by a second, and a third, until a steady beat had formed. Around the blood, a heart had formed, pulsing weakly but steadily. Blue and magenta veins sprang forth, twining around bones like an intricate web. The bones knit themselves together, where there were fissures, it was made whole; where Quatre's head had been bashed in, the entire skull had fused back together. Organs grew from seemingly nothing, pink and healthy and alive. Muscle and tissue, sinews cording about the bone, supporting the frail structure. Cartilage regrew, shaping the delicate nose and ears. The empty sockets were suddenly filled with brilliant turquoise eyes that stared unblinking and lidless at the ceiling for a mere moment, until heavily lashed lids closed over them. Skin sheathed the newly working body, wrapping tightly about the slender frame. Soft blonde hair, pale as morning light grew on the scalp, falling thickly onto a gentle brow and curling about ears and neck. Even the tattered remains of his funeral suit were reborn, the rose waistcoat, the lace cravat, every button and buckle brought to its proper state.
"Holy shit," Catherine breathed when it finally seemed appropriate to speak.
There, laying in the wormy coffin, was a very much alive-seeming corpse, as if Quatre had fallen asleep in his own grave. But his face was unnervingly pale, and though his heart beat, his chest did not rise and fall.
"You need to breathe for him, Trowa," Duo said gently.
"And then will he be alive?" Trowa replied, with an almost childish hope.
The chestnut-haired psychic nodded. "All that'll remain is getting his soul back in, and that's not much of anything at all."
The tall brunette leaned over the coffin and placed his warm lips on the cold, lifeless ones of the prone form. He gave him his breath, pouring all the warmth and love he could into that one breath, hoping far beyond hope that it would be enough, and silently begging God to let it be. There was a tiny gasp, and Trowa felt a soft exhalation of air as the chest began to rise and fall. The pale cheeks colored with a pale rose blush, the colorless lips became bright, Pygmalion's nymph was nearing completion.
"You've done a fine job, Tro. The rest is up to me and Quatre. If I start sounding hokey, it's because I'm reading from the book. O spirits and shades, release the weary soul of our beloved Quatre Raberba Winner from perpetual night, and let him return to the warm of life and the arms of the ones he loves. Quatre, I now invite you to leave your phantasmal form and return to your soulless body."
There was a slight pause. Duo cocked his head to the side slightly. "That means get your ghost ass back in that body now, or else."
There was a sudden chill in the room as a violent wind picked up, scattering papers wildly. The smell of roses grew to an unbearable, nauseating level as the maelstrom grew. The candles guttered out in a circle, starting from those at the head of the bed and arching around the perimeter of the room, firelights dancing about Trowa for a mere instant. The room was plunged into total darkness, Catherine screaming, and Wufei letting out a hoarse cry. And then, silence, silence like the tomb they'd crawled out of just hours ago. Somewhere down in the great hall, the clock resounded twelve doleful tolls. Everyone held their breaths, waiting for the four minutes afterwards to pass, the time of Quatre's death.
"It's five past the hour, please breathe before you all suffocate yourselves," a light tenor voice, unfamiliar without its echoing cadences, requested.
~^~
Notes:
I definitely made up that whole necromancy ritual. I based it very loosely on a little lore from Inu-Yasha, some of those bad sci-fi series that are on at seven in the morning, and a lot of bullshitting. I don't suggest trying this ritual at home, children. It is for trained, professional cartoon characters.
Next Chapter: The last chapter of the Parapsychology saga. But fear not, it won't be without an epilogue. So expect two more chapters to make it a nice, uneven eleven. Call it homage to Lady Une, everyone's favorite schizophrenic.