Fear and Loathing In--Well, Just Fear and Loathing By Elendil Star-Lover

Chapter one: End of "Secrets in the Dark"

Cute, little, red Scarecrowmon. My friend. My first friend. So who cares if I was not his first? He was mine, right? If it weren't for him, I'd be bat chow. More then likely, actually, I wouldn't have met Kari. After all, Scarecrowmon as a champion figured it all out. He knew.

I still have to admire him. Not only was he killed because--for--because of me, he left his partner behind. Left her to be used as a tool, because she, and therefore he, knew. They knew the Darkness would win the girl either way, so the children were more important then Sarabi. I could never guarantee that I'd have the strength to do the same.

From what Ken had said of her and what we'd seen of her as Sailor Saturn, Gennaii had done a good job of altering his data to fit Sarabi's and hers alone personality type. They were strong and brave, fast, agile, and above all, had the inner strength to do what was right, at any cost.

He was a marvel of engineering. Standing hardly two feet tall, he easily passed as a human child, and did so. His hair vaguely resembled straw, but was softer and silkier, maybe like corn silk. The same material stuck out from his sleeves over his gloves and his pants over his boots, which were all re leather, well worn. The gloves zipped just like his in Champion form did, complete with crescent moon-shaped handles. His jumpsuit, too, was red. And the hat, which was topped with the same skull. The cape was, again, red, and tattered at the bottom, and clasped with a smaller skull. The effect was a tinier, red Wizardmon, and he was beautiful.

I missed him, those few years in-between. I thought of him almost as much as I thought of Kari. I was at the Primary Village every day, seeking the description of a Magic Digi-Egg, and never found one. I cried often, but hid it. No one saw, I made sure of that.

I wanted my friend, my first friend, his sympathy, his dumb jokes, no one else's. I wouldn't take *their* pity. They didn't understand what it had been like, those long years of torment and despair. Three of those years had been spent tailing the newbie I had dragged out of the desert around, ensuring that he didn't mess up. Sometimes, I was forced to-to punish him for mouthing off. And I remember wondering why Myotismon didn't simply dispose of the impudent young mage. I guess, now I know.

Back then, Wizardmon, which was his name then, told me that I reminded him of someone. He never told me who, he just went temporarily deaf or said he couldn't place description with name or face or that he never told me such a thing, even when I told him that I'd rip the stitches from his pale blue- grey lips. Especially then.

But I guess that Scarecrowmon told me about Sarabi back then, in an illicit way. In the silent, secretive Wizardmon way.

He'd never been too open about his past, and I knew the reason for that, too. If the Darkness ever got to Sarabi, it would-will, use her to take over the Multiverse. He assured me that I cannot win a fight with Sarabi by myself, and that he doesn't even want me coming along, but I never listened. He is my friend and needed my help. I only wonder how Queen Growltiger figured the Darkness would make a go for her daughter anyway.

I stared at him, illuminated by the full moon outside of Kari and Tai's room. He had been there since the two kids went to bed, hours before. We'd left him there, out of pure mercy. He needed his space. After all, Tai cried for three hours straight when the Digimon Emperor took control of MetalGreymon, and I knew perfectly well how little the little magic master cried. I'd heard of him doing it once, when Elecmon put him to bed in Gennaii's villa, and that hadn't even lasted five minutes. He never even cried when he was beaten-or when Myotismon ripped the stitches from his mouth. Or when my friend was-when he had been dying at my feet, surrounded by strangers, even me, for he had guessed the real me, but never seen her, alone and away from his beloved Angel of Music.

I wondered if it was healthy for him to be in so much pain and not let it out. To keep it pent up, like the soda bottle someone shakes until it explodes. I'd seen how crazy he could *act*, so how crazy would he really be at the end of this?

"Heh, heh," the soft, accented voice from the windowsill sighed.

"What?"

It laughed again, "Didn't you see it?"

"See what?"

"The funny image I had as soon as I heard you think about the soda bottle involving my head flying off in a shower of sticky, fizzy Dr. Pepper."

I smiled. At least he was talking again. That was an improvement. And the demented-ness was almost normal.

"You haven't said a word since Gennaii's," I noted, and remembered the scene. We were all about to sign up for yet another do-or-die mission involving things beyond our comprehension when Scarecrowmon had come down the stairs. He had insisted on going until he and Gennaii, who had been almost a father to the boy and his, err, Valkyrie partner, had started arguing. The scene had looked like the teenage human boy about to be disowned arguing with his parents. In the end, Gennaii gave his consent, and Scarecrowmon was going to be our guide.

"Nothing to say," he whispered. He was so-quiet. Never moving, his eyes always on the starry sky outside, so close you could almost touch them-and yet so far. It scared me. My Wizardmon had always been in motion, not so still, not even blinking. Just for the humor of it I piped up, "I thought I told you never to read my mind without permission." He didn't laugh like he used to, didn't tell me how natural it seemed to hear-

I bounced onto the windowsill beside him, just to be near him, "What's it like?"

"What?"

"To read minds."

He never moved. I couldn't even see his stitched lips working. Hech, I realized that I knew so little about him, my first best friend, that I wasn't even sure that me moved them *to* speak.

He was beautiful. An elf-child. So innocent, and little, and afraid of anything bigger then him, which is nearly everything. On the other hand, he is selfless and brave. I love him, but does he love me like-he loves Sarabi?

Sarabi. The name meant "Angel of Music". From what Ken, Gennaii, Elecmon, and Scarecrowmon had said, a cover for something that was nowhere near an angel. She was defensive, mischievous, smart, strong, conniving- Wizardmon made Valkyrie. In addition, female. She was pretty, too: sleek, slender, graceful. She was small, but only to minimize energy output so that she could maintain her wings. In Valkyrie form, she still had a streamlined body, covered in glossy black and white tiger-striped fur that even days in a dungeon had not wiped the glow from. Her wings were the most catching of her features, bat-like, glossy black and absorbed light energy to fly.

To fly--! How wonderful it was to be in Wizardmon's arms and over the glowing city, which spread beneath us like the star-filled sky above! Not even her pointed teeth or retractable claws could compare to those shining hematite wings!

"It's okay," that cute, beautifully accented voice mused neutrally.

"What is?" He'd interrupted my thoughts and I'd forgotten where I'd left off at.

"You asked about reading minds. It's okay. Different minds sound different."

I was intrigued. I figured Sarabi knew all about it, but this was the first time I'd heard what it *felt* like.

"How so?" I asked.

He didn't shrug, but he sounded like he might have in any other situation, "Sociopaths don't *feel*. I can hear what they are thinking, but not their emotions. Warm, caring people, like you even way back when, Kari, Ken, Trista, Gennaii, Elecmon-you all *feel* more then you sound. Minds with shorter attention spans don't sound like complete sentences, but many emotions and meanings all in a small space."

"What does Sarabi's mind feel like?"

He did the implied-shrugging again, as if he'd never given it much thought, which he probably hadn't, "Depends. When she's 'predatory', like earlier at the Dark Ocean, sociopathic, but short attention span. When she's normal, warm and short attention span."

Why did I have to ask that? If my friend already hadn't been noticing it the whole time anyway, he'd know I was almost jealous.

Scarecrowmon lifted his red-gloved hand and pointed to a tiny, yellowish pinprick of light in the sea of its brothers and sisters.

"That," he said, "is her Guardian Star, Saturn."

Do you like her better then me?

For the first time all evening, he blinked, and then turned his head to look at me, slowly because he must have been stiff.

"You are my friend. Isn't that enough?" he asked with such startled simplicity that he clearly thought that reasoning should have been sufficient.

"What?" I demanded sharply, a little startled myself. What did he mean by that? Were his emotional problems affecting his communication skills? Maybe his mind?

He laughed a little and ran his gloved fingers on mine, "I haven't acted like it, but I missed you."

I put my claw over his collar, about where his lips should have been, "You've had things on your mind." I paused for a second, "What was it like in Limboland?"

He tore his eyes away from mine, "I don't remember. I remember boredom, and why I stayed, but I don't remember exactly what happened or what I heard there."

"Why'd you stay?" I was afraid of the answer.

"First, I remember thinking that something could happen to you and Kari. Then I was afraid for Sarabi."

He laid his blond head against my white silk shoulder, "I'm afraid for her. I miss Sarabi."

Then he did something I only heard of him doing one other time (I never actually saw it).

He cried.

Here's the deal: I am almost halfway done with this story, but I won't put any more up until I get five reviews. Then, when I put the second chapter up, I'll wait for five more reviews, get it? There's the little review box, talk to him, he's lonely.