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Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of it's characters of references.

Notes: (Warning, blood and gore ahead! I mean serious gore. I planned to write out the whole fight scene, but found myself getting sick when I got the part where it turns bloody, so I just wrote the beginning and the aftermath.) I would love it if I could update for you guy's every week, I really would, I just can't. I'm having trouble keeping up with two weeks as it is. I'm just glad I'm not losing you guys because it takes me that long to update.

Chapter Fifteen

(Never Wake the Beast)

GONG, GONG, GONG, GONG, GONG, GONG. An old woman startled awake from her slouched huddle at the base of the clock tower. She craned her brittle neck upward, staring at the tower that stretched far above her. The tower was old; it had been abandoned and broken for decades. It's only workers were the rats that skittered about the shadows and made an occasional meal for her. The old lady's face molded itself like reluctant clay, into an expression of awe and pity. Frail wisps of silver white hair drifted about her face as she nodded sagely, listening to the venerable bell tolling out the message. Father time foretold of death to come, who knew when or where.

A company of arrogant young men, (well, young to her), with dark clothes and smokes swaggered past. She sneered at their backs. Perhaps death would start with them, she could hope. Pretentious bastards, always walking across her nicely tended weeds, blowing smoke in her face and cleaning their bloody hands in her rain bucket. She pulled a small teapot from under her armpit where she'd been keeping it warm and poured herself a cup. The bell fell silent and she sat hugging her tea, awaiting the prediction and humming a funeral march.

~~~~~

Caltha watched him sneak down the stairs and across the hall to the front double doors. She wrinkled her nose and brow in displeasure and slipped out of her tent in the lounge. She tucked Sushi under her arm and padded up behind him, sliding on her PJ, booty covered feet. Odin was crouched down, hunching over a bag that made soft clinking noises in the dark. Caltha glared at his back and tapped him on the shoulder. He had a hand on her throat before she could withdraw her finger.

Odin dropped his hand as soon as he saw her. He hadn't even heard her above the sounds of the bag. He smirked; she was spending so much time with him she was even picking up on his walk.

"You're sneaking out again," she whispered, shaking her finger at him. "That's," she held up both hands, paused, lifted a foot and pursed her lips. "A lot of sneaky nights." Odin pushed her hands and foot down so she wouldn't lose her balance and grunted. "Where do you go?" she asked.

"Out," he replied, and reached back for his bag. Caltha crossed her arms, much like him when he was lurking in a corner and said.

"I'm coming, I gotta keep you out of trouble." Odin mock glared at her, there was no possibility of her coming with him.

"No."

"I'll tell," she said. Odin's mock glare became sincere. He mentally scolded himself. This is what comes of humoring her about your whereabouts, now deal with the consequences. He continued to glare doom as he gathered his bag and swung her up onto his back.

They took the city tram and got off at ground level on the north side of the city. Odin made sure he had a firm grip on Caltha and made her walk close beside him. Caltha periodically went from hiding her head behind him to staring at the new world before her with wonder. The streets were deserted for the most part. A few dead leaves and an old newspaper danced across the empty road on an evening wind. The air was cool and smelled of plants and rust. The only person they passed was an old woman sitting on the step of a dilapidated clock tower, all bundled up in rags, hats, coats and scarves. She grinned at them as they passed, showing off her one remaining tooth. Odin did not pause or dawdle. He kept up a brisk pace until they reached a high wire fence at the end of an alley with a deserted construction site behind it.

Odin brushed his fingers lightly over the twisted metal. The fence felt cool and smooth beneath his hands. He traced his thumb along the thread thin wires between the larger cables. There would be no cutting through this one without a lot of time, just his luck they would put up a new fence and make the site officially condemned.

"Odin, watcha doing?" Caltha asked, her ever-chipper voice echoing through the lonesome back street. Odin crouched and pressed a hand over her mouth. He brought a finger to his lips and looked hard into her eyes. Caltha nodded and he released her face.

"I'm unlocking the fence," he said. Caltha frowned and stuck her thumb in her mouth. Odin stood and turned back to the fence. On the other side, far past the piles of junk he could see the shadowed figure of an MS leaning against the wall. It sat there with one arm hanging limply in its lap, like some broken puppet with its strings cut. Someone must have had plans to use it in the building process. He ran his hands over the wire framework of the fence looking for a weak spot he could bend.

A metal clang rang out from above and Odin jerked his head up. There were fire escape stairways on both sides of the alley, traveling all the way up the walls to the roofs of the two buildings. The shadows were to deep to see much, but when the sound did not persist Odin turned back to the fence, keeping both ears open. If he couldn't find a weak spot in the fence he would have to climb over, ordinarily that wouldn't be a problem, but Caltha would be stranded by herself on the opposite side from him. He didn't think she would be able to climb up with him.

Another sound came, this time from the other side of the alley. A creaking of metal, as if someone was shifting position up there on the rusted stairs. Odin spun around to face the entrance of the alley. He made a soft 'hnn' grunt and pulled Caltha behind him with the fence to her back. Someone or something was watching them, he could tell. He could always tell when he was being watched.

"Show yourselves," he commanded. At first nothing answered him, just a few nervous creaks and shifting shadows. His eyes darted about the alley searching for a hint of their positions. "Now," he barked. A slippery laugh echoed down to him from the roof on the left.

"Ya think we're that fucking stupid? Nah, I think we'll stay up here, nice an cozy, but you're in for a hell of fucking time."

"Shit, what about the kid man, Scead said nothin' about fucking a kid." Another voice called from half way down the other wall.

A deafening bang rang out from the roof of the right building. Odin sprang and dropped to the side with Caltha underneath him. Something small whizzed past his head and stung his ear. They hit the ground hard, Odin tumbled in a roll to absorb the impact and Caltha clung to him more tightly them she ever had before. They rolled across the pavement and collided with a pile of trash bags in a corner between the fence and the wall. Another shot was fired and Odin crawled on top of Caltha protecting her with his body as best he could. The small noise of bullets pinging off the metal fire escape above was drowned out by the sounds of gunfire reverberating through their bones. Again and again it sounded, BANG, BANG, BANG. Odin glanced up at the metal stairs overhead and thanked his luck for such a shield. Beneath him Caltha was shaking and crying into his shirt. He tucked the top of her head under his chin and brushed his fingers through her hair. The smell of gun smoke drifted down from the roof, leaving thin clouds floating in the air.

When the earsplitting clamor finally stopped, the silence left behind was solid. Odin could imagine his ears bleeding from the vacant roar. It had been less then a year since he'd last heard it yet it seemed like an eternity. He blinked when he felt a warm trickle leak down his outer ear. He lifted his fingers to the side of his head and they came away red. Was it the sound that made his ears bleed? No, no it was the bullet, the one that had grazed the side of his head. Odin lifted his head and peeked up through the new holes in the fire escape. A black silhouetted figure at the top of the wall was reloading a gun with practiced ease. Now would be the ideal time to run.

At the entrance to the alley two tall, dark shapes shuffled into the little street. Odin watched the men come out of the shadows. Three on the fire escapes, one on the roof and two on the ground. He stood in one smooth motion and braced himself in front of Caltha. One of the men charged in from the alley entrance, a blur of speed and shadow. Odin's eye caught the glint of a blade in the dark. He dodged to the right, flattening himself to the wall above Caltha. The man who had rushed him ran into the fence, leaving a huge dent in the structure. Another man on the staircase above dropped onto Odin's back. Odin spun on his toes and hurled the man against the opposite wall.

Caltha was curled up in a ball among the trash bags. She covered her ears with her hands to block out the frightening thuds and curses that boomed through the side street. The awful bangs from before did not return and slowly she began to loosen her tightly closed eyelids. The sickly sweet smell of garbage emanating from the trash bags made her wrinkle her nose in distaste. A loud crash and more shouting came from the left. Caltha cracked an eye open and peeked out over the mound of plastic bags and cardboard boxes of trash.

All she could see were smudges. Everyone was moving to fast for her to catch. There was a large dark blur that moved around the alley and cursed. Inside was lighter colored blur she thought was Odin, but she really couldn't tell, there were just different colored streaks zipping about. One of the dark blurs that was attacking Odin suddenly sailed up and over their heads and hit the far wall, dislodging dust and loose bricks on impact. Only when the fighters broke apart to stop and circle could she see who was who and where. A large fellow with a pipe in his hands was lurking under the stairs behind Odin. He lifted the pipe in his hands and started to bring it down on Odin's head. Caltha Shrieked. Odin turned in time to save his head but was thrown into the wall just beside her. The man with the pipe and another man with brass knuckles advanced on Odin. Caltha squeaked and stuck her fist into her mouth, staring in terrified fascination as the big men pummeled her defender.

Odin released a gasp of air and bent over his stomach, which now had a fist imbedded in it. Opponent number one had rushed in to punch him in the gut. Opponent number one was a very big man, with brass knuckles. The thug punched again, and Odin sagged and tried to breathe, the man had a fist like a sledgehammer. He did not want to kill these men, though they obviously wanted to kill him. If he could just defend Caltha long enough to get them both out of here things would be fine. Another punch to the stomach and he choked. The thug must either be taking steroids or carrying illegal implants. The next fist he would have to break. Except there was no next fist, instead there was a high pitched scream, the like he'd never heard. A sound shrill enough to shatter glass and eardrums. The man who had been rearranging his insides looked down with a startled grunt.

"The fuck?…" he said. Caltha had attached herself to the man's leg and was biting his knee through a large tear in the pants, biting hard. The thug howled and swung down both fists. Odin caught the first one with the brass knuckles, but he wasn't fast enough to grab the second. The man backhanded Caltha, flinging her tiny weight away from him. She gave a choked cry before her head hit the brick wall and she dropped back on to the garbage heap. She lay very still, exactly where she landed. Not a sound came out of her. Not a whine, not a cry, nothing.

Time slowed like a rickety subway train and came to a halt. Odin felt nothing at first, he just watched her still body, waiting for it to get up and run to him, asking him to kiss it better… to do something. There was nothing, then there was rage. A terrible burning heat exploded inside his heart and filled his mind. A wild firestorm hot enough to scorch his innards to blackened cinders. His blood surged up to the point of boiling, scalding his veins apart and washing away every wall and defense. Any reservations he'd had about causing pain to these goons were incinerated, they were nothing but kindling for the blaze. He didn't even notice that he was slowly crushing the hand in his possession, grinding it to a bloody pulp with his fingers. Not a sound could reach his ears, except the echo of her defiant scream. Something deep, deep down inside started to move. Just a little snort and scuffle at first, then more and more until it woke and roared out its fury. Until it cried for blood!

Odin growled deep in his throat. Not the normal, poor, human imitation of a growl, no this was the true animalistic sound. He turned away from her crumpled body to face the dumb brute that had dared raise a hand against her. The man's face was twisted in pain and his mouth was moving in what might have been shouts and pleas, but Odin couldn't hear a thing. He cocked his head to the side and looked at the remains of the fist he held. His hand was covered in blood and he could feel the red liquid dripping down his arm. There were bits of bone sticking out between his fingers, hard little shards with bits of tendons still attached. He looked at the blood covering his hand and watched it run down the thug's forearm along with his. This is what you want? You are hungry? He thought, and the beast within howled in response. He bent his head down and took a bit of the raw meat in his mouth, sucking on the rusty tasting flesh. He licked his lips and let out a soft chuckle at the horrified face of the man before him. The beast was free, and it would reek havoc on the world!

~~~~~

It was everywhere, absolutely everywhere. The walls looked as if someone had splashed buckets of red paint on them. There were all different shades, going from a black red to the lighter hue of the veins. The fence was dripping with it. Little crimson droplets falling into congealing puddles on the ground. Drip, drip, drip… his head felt heavy, as if some great weight was forcing it down. He didn't want to look down, if he looked down he'd see, oh god… there were six of them. Poor stupid bastards didn't know when to run. Then again, maybe they did, and they were just hunted down. He couldn't remember. He lifted his shoe and let the head that had been resting against it roll away. He shuffled after the head, nudging it with his foot when it came to a halt. He listened to the plop, plop of his footsteps splashing through the thick puddles on the asphalt. Every once in awhile there would be an extra squish when he stepped on an organ. The air was musty and smelled of death. A brief ripping sound came from above on the fire escape and an arm that was hanging onto its master by its last string finally gave up and fell to the pavement.

Odin stopped his slow march when he reached the trash bags at the back. He knelt down by the black baggage, now slippery with blood. His bangs were sticking to his forehead, and he knew it wasn't from sweat. She still lay there, were she had landed at the beginning. He reached out a hand and touched it to her throat, leaving a dark red mark on her neck. She had a pulse, she was alive! He picked her up and held her close to him. He had to get her back to the Orphanage. He turned to leave and stray thought crossed his hazy mind. One of those simple, lifesaving thoughts that come at random when you are least able to deal with common sense. You cannot go back the way you came, it said. People will see you on a public transport. You are not a fit sight to see, there will be panic and questions. Odin closed his eyes and nodded, listening to the safe little voice that sounded so much like his own, and yet different. He hoisted Caltha up onto his back, holding her feet with one arm and her hands with the other. He took a deep breath, crouched and leaped into a run, the long and powerful run that could take him across a city and leap over cars. As he ran he prayed that Caltha did not wake up. Run, just run and don't think. If you think you'll remember what you're running from. Don't think, just run.

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