*Hold me when I'm here
Right me when I'm wrong
Hold me when I'm scared,
And love me when I'm gone
Everything I am
Everything in me
Wants to be the one
You wanted me to be
I'll never let you down
Even if I could
I'd give up everything
If only for your good
So hold me when I'm here
Right me when I'm wrong
Hold me when I'm scared
I won't always be there,
So love me when I'm gone*
*3 Doors Down - When I'm Gone*
"I'm sorry. I was gonna tell you..." Angel's voice was sadder than he'd ever heard anyone sound. Not that he was in any mood to care.
"You KNEW? And you didn't TELL me?!" Bryan stood over her and glared, his icy blue eyes seeming to throw sparks. Angel could feel the air vibrating between them. His aura wasn't hard to read. All anger, and betrayal, and hurt.
"She told me after I woke up, and found out that one of the bullets messed up my tattoo. She told me that she knew a good plastic surgeon, and let it slip that he was her husband. I confronted her about it, and she begged me not to tell you. She swore she'd tell you herself, and judging by her aura an hour ago, she was gonna tell you tonight. Then HE showed up and, well..."
Bryan didn't say a word. He just stared at her, unblinking.
Angel decided to press on. "She told me that it wasn't a happy marriage. She's a trophy wife, Bryan. They show up at dinners and functions together, but in the meantime they do whoever and whatever they want. She's good friends with his current mistress, so I hear."
Bryan's voice was deep and gravelly. "So what does that make me?" Angel started to reply, but he cut her off. "What does that make me, Angel? A boyfriend? Some long-term forbidden love or something? Jesus H. Christ, Angel, I really..." he trailed off.
"You really what?" Angel's voice was all compassion.
Bryan raised his eyes to meet hers. "I really liked her. A lot. In fact, I liked her more than anyone else I've ever met. And there was more to it than sex. It was like..." He broke off, frustrated.
"You were in love with her, weren't you? You loved Cassandra, and I think you still do. I can feel it, so don't lie to me. You are in love with Dr. Cassandra Harrelson, and you know it. You-"
"Shut the fuck up, Angel! What do you know about it? You don't know anything! Cassandra, she was... different. It was like, we really clicked or something. Stop looking at me like that, you know what I mean." He heaved a sigh. "And now she's gone. I'll probably never see her again. Probably would have been better off if I hadn't met her."
"No."
Bryan looked up. "No? No what?"
"No, you wouldn't have been better off. Listen to yourself, Bryan. I'm feeling stuff coming from you that I've NEVER felt coming from you. Listen to yourself lately. You WORRIED about me in the hospital. Cassandra made you HAPPY. Now you feel SAD and ANGRY. Don't you see? Something about her has unlocked your emotions. You have feelings again. Your mind-touch has, well, it's hard to describe but your mind is... deeper, somehow. There's more depth, more feeling. Bryan, your mind is ALIVE again. You can FEEL. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"
At the moment, Bryan was impossible to read. Shock, amazement, and other emotions competed for dominance on the chalk-white face. He realized that she was right. He COULD feel emotions right now. He hadn't even noticed it. Cassandra... she'd taught him how to feel again, in a way that Angel never could.
"Yeah, I understand. But, there's something else going on. Somehow, hearing you say that brings back... memories. Maybe my memories and feelings were just supressed, you know? I'm getting these flashbacks. I mean, I already remember most of my adult life, but what you said makes sense. Now, there's more feeling to them. I remember what I was feeling when those memories happened. I remember now..."
Angel looked down for a moment. "You're lucky in that respect. I have yet to recover any more memories, though the ones I DO have are just a bit less foggy."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"I'm sure."
"I'm serious, Angel."
"Yeah, well, while you're remembering, there's something I've been wanting to ask you for a long time." She waited until she had his full attention before continuing. "Bryan... where did you get that scar?"
He seemed surprised by the question. "Hang on, let me think a minute... yeah, I remember now. A fight, about three years ago. It was back when I was a drug-runner for Mishima. Damn, those were bad times. Doing that work was what completely fucked up my life, you know? Back then, before..." He was silent a moment, then continued.
"It was a shipment of some narcotic, I forget which. I'd been screwing up orders lately, and Mishima wasn't too happy about it. Interpol was getting closer, and I couldn't let them see me playing both sides of the street."
"I thought you were undercover."
"I was at first, then I got in too deep. Way too deep. Fine, I started sampling a bit of my own merchandise, and I got hooked. It was heroin. I couldn't let Interpol see that, so I went deeper 'undercover.' Then Mishima found out about it somehow. They were understandably pissed that I was screwing them out of some good merchandise. They sent a whole shitload of Tekkenshu soldiers after me, to 'teach me a lesson,' so they said.
"At first, I was kicking ass on everybody out there. I'd just KO'd my fifth target when they all went quiet. They stepped back, kinda parting the waves. I thought it would be an Owl or something but it was a chick. Couldn't tell anything about her, other than that, from wearin' that gay-ass body armor and that helmet. She didn't say one word. She just looked at me for a moment, then she starts attacking.
"She was kicking my ass. I knew that I was gonna have to play dirty if I was gonna live, so I pulled out my trusty hunting knife and came at her. She grabbed it out of my hand before I could do anything about it, then she started attacking ME with it. She got me good. The face and chest scars are all from one big lucky cut she got on me. She probably would have killed me, but then there were sirens. The cops were showing up. Obviously my cuts hurt like hell, and I couldn't see out my left eye because of the blood, but I could see her staring at me and then she said something in Japanese. I think it was-"
"Hanashi ni naran'na."
"Huh?"
"Hanashi ni naran'na. Roughly translated, it means 'You're too pathetic for words.'" Angel's voice was quiet, and her eyes were distant, as though she was trying remember something.
Bryan stared. "Yeah, that's right. How'd you know?"
"Because I remember that happening."
"What? How can you, unless..."
They were both silent for a moment, then Angel's voice came, barely above a wisper. "Jesus Chist. That was me, back then." Her eyes refused to meet his. "It just hit me. Bryan... I gave you that scar."
More silence. She looked up to see him staring at her as if seeing her for the first time. She decided to continue. "I got a god-awful beating that night. Apparently my... master... had told me that I was supposed to kill you. I would have, but those sirens saved your life. My master... I wish I remembered his name. It would probably clear up a lot about the past I still can't remember. I have names without faces, and faces without names. I just wish I could REMEMBER!" She looked up at him. "One thing I do remember was feeling deja vu when I saw your face at Jerry's for the first time. I knew I'd seen that scar before, but I had no idea where..."
Bryan said nothing, he just kept staring at her. His mind raced. This is her, he thought. She scarred me. He'd wanted revenge "...so bad," he murmured.
"Huh?"
"I remember wanting to get you back for this scar. I wanted it bad. See, you're one of the few people in the world that has ever kicked my ass, and I wanted revenge so bad. Now, here you are..." he trailed off.
"Here I am..." she echoed.
Both of them stared at the floor for a moment. Then he spoke up. "I know where I've seen your tattoo before."
Her eyes snapped up to meet his. Bryan looked away instantly. "I saw him during the tournament. Never fought him, though. I just saw him fighting. Some Japanese kid."
"A Japanese kid with a tattoo... and brown eyes! He had brown eyes!" Angel's mind raced. Things were coming back to her now. She thought harder. Concentrate, she thought to herself. Who is this boy? She almost had it when-
"Aaargh!" She slapped both hands to her head. "Fuck, that hurts!" It felt like her head would explode.
"Brain cramp?"
"No, smartass. It hurts to remember... wait. Now I get it. My memories aren't lost, they're blocked! Somebody blocked my memories. That's not something you do easily. Only another telepath could do that. And the person who blocked my memories had brown eyes," she glanced down at her arm, "and this tattoo!"
She looked at him. "You say you saw him during the tournament?" When Bryan nodded, she leaped out of her chair and raced for Kenji's study. Mystified, he followed her, and saw her clattering away on the keyboards. "Before you ask, I'm looking for information on the King of Iron Fist Tournament 3. They gotta have pictures of the fighters!"
"They don't."
"What?"
"That tournament never got televised, and there were no photographers. Nobody saw the final fight. Heihachi Mishima claimed victory, and nobody's disputed it, so..."
She looked at the computer screen, defeated. "So there's no picture of him." She sighed. "I feel cheated."
Another silence descended, and Bryan took a swig of beer and leaned against the doorframe. "So, what now?"
Angel didn't answer. Her head was bowed, deep in thought. A long time passed, with the only movement being Bryan's drinking. Then she spoke. "It's you."
"Excuse me?"
"It's you. Somehow, you're connected to all of this. You used to be an undercover cop, and you were a delivery boy for a large drug dealer. I was a soldier for that drug dealer. We faced off, and I gave you that scar. It's the dealer that ties this all together. And you said it earlier. The dealer was Mishima Enterprises." She paused to think. "Okay, so I was a soldier in the private army of Mishima Enterprises. You were an undercover cop, working for Mishima Enterprises. Somehow you pissed them off, and they did something to you. Then here you are, dear brother, and you say that you don't remember what happened. I think you're lying."
Bryan could only stare. Oh God, here it comes.
"Bryan, I think it's time you told me who you really are." She sat in the computer chair with her hands folded in her lap. Her face was stern, and her eyes seemed to burn holes into his. There was an incredibly long silence, where all they did was stare at each other. She wasn't going to let him get away, he knew.
He sighed, and looked her squarely in the eyes. "I'm not your real brother."
"I know that. I was wondering why you would pose as my brother, but I decided to wait it out. Now, I'm done waiting. Keep going."
"This is gonna take a while, and I wanna sit down." She followed him closely all the way back to the living room. He took his customary spot on the loveseat, and she curled up in a chair. Her eyes never left his.
He told her everything. Everything he remembered. He told her about his history as a cop, and how he got into Interpol. He told her about being partners with Lei Wulong, and about working for Mishima undercover. He nearly choked when he spoke of that night, when he died. His eyes burned when he spoke of waking up in Abel's lab. His hands shook when he related all of the things that Abel had made him do. He told her everything. He didn't look at her the entire time, but when he finished he raised his gaze to meet hers.
"My God..." Angel murmured, followed by a long silence. Bryan started to take a swig of beer, then realized it was empty. He looked out the window. Christ, it was pitch black outside! His little story had taken longer than he'd thought. "So that means..."
"Yeah, Angel. I'm dead. I'm a fucking cyborg. So now you know. You happy now?" His voice was bitter, and rose with each word until he was almost yelling at her. They he saw her eyes. Her eyes. Her eyes were closed, and he could see tears rolling down her cheeks. "My God, Angel! If you can't stand me yelling at you-"
"It's not that. I wasn't crying because you yelled. It's because... oh, Bryan." Then she really broke down. She curled into a ball, weeping. She was broadcasting pain and sorrow, directing them at him. Then it hit him.
"Angel..." he stared at her. "Are you... are you really crying for me?" She nodded, still weeping. "Jesus, Angel, I... fuck, I just..."
A long silence passed, with the only sound being Angel's hoarse, ragged breaths as she fought to regain control of herself. Bryan could only stare at the floor, stunned. She was crying for him, he thought. She really cared about him.
Then he felt her hand, on his. He looked into her glittering eyes. "Bryan, as far as I'm concerned... you ARE my brother... if you want to be."
Bryan managed a heavy nod before something odd happened to him. Suddenly his eyes burned and stung, and it felt like he'd been sprayed with mace or something. Then there was an odd wetness on his cheek, and a small drop splashed on his arm. "Bryan... you're crying." Her voice took on an odd note. "You're crying, Bryan. And your arm... it's not cold anymore."
Right me when I'm wrong
Hold me when I'm scared,
And love me when I'm gone
Everything I am
Everything in me
Wants to be the one
You wanted me to be
I'll never let you down
Even if I could
I'd give up everything
If only for your good
So hold me when I'm here
Right me when I'm wrong
Hold me when I'm scared
I won't always be there,
So love me when I'm gone*
*3 Doors Down - When I'm Gone*
"I'm sorry. I was gonna tell you..." Angel's voice was sadder than he'd ever heard anyone sound. Not that he was in any mood to care.
"You KNEW? And you didn't TELL me?!" Bryan stood over her and glared, his icy blue eyes seeming to throw sparks. Angel could feel the air vibrating between them. His aura wasn't hard to read. All anger, and betrayal, and hurt.
"She told me after I woke up, and found out that one of the bullets messed up my tattoo. She told me that she knew a good plastic surgeon, and let it slip that he was her husband. I confronted her about it, and she begged me not to tell you. She swore she'd tell you herself, and judging by her aura an hour ago, she was gonna tell you tonight. Then HE showed up and, well..."
Bryan didn't say a word. He just stared at her, unblinking.
Angel decided to press on. "She told me that it wasn't a happy marriage. She's a trophy wife, Bryan. They show up at dinners and functions together, but in the meantime they do whoever and whatever they want. She's good friends with his current mistress, so I hear."
Bryan's voice was deep and gravelly. "So what does that make me?" Angel started to reply, but he cut her off. "What does that make me, Angel? A boyfriend? Some long-term forbidden love or something? Jesus H. Christ, Angel, I really..." he trailed off.
"You really what?" Angel's voice was all compassion.
Bryan raised his eyes to meet hers. "I really liked her. A lot. In fact, I liked her more than anyone else I've ever met. And there was more to it than sex. It was like..." He broke off, frustrated.
"You were in love with her, weren't you? You loved Cassandra, and I think you still do. I can feel it, so don't lie to me. You are in love with Dr. Cassandra Harrelson, and you know it. You-"
"Shut the fuck up, Angel! What do you know about it? You don't know anything! Cassandra, she was... different. It was like, we really clicked or something. Stop looking at me like that, you know what I mean." He heaved a sigh. "And now she's gone. I'll probably never see her again. Probably would have been better off if I hadn't met her."
"No."
Bryan looked up. "No? No what?"
"No, you wouldn't have been better off. Listen to yourself, Bryan. I'm feeling stuff coming from you that I've NEVER felt coming from you. Listen to yourself lately. You WORRIED about me in the hospital. Cassandra made you HAPPY. Now you feel SAD and ANGRY. Don't you see? Something about her has unlocked your emotions. You have feelings again. Your mind-touch has, well, it's hard to describe but your mind is... deeper, somehow. There's more depth, more feeling. Bryan, your mind is ALIVE again. You can FEEL. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"
At the moment, Bryan was impossible to read. Shock, amazement, and other emotions competed for dominance on the chalk-white face. He realized that she was right. He COULD feel emotions right now. He hadn't even noticed it. Cassandra... she'd taught him how to feel again, in a way that Angel never could.
"Yeah, I understand. But, there's something else going on. Somehow, hearing you say that brings back... memories. Maybe my memories and feelings were just supressed, you know? I'm getting these flashbacks. I mean, I already remember most of my adult life, but what you said makes sense. Now, there's more feeling to them. I remember what I was feeling when those memories happened. I remember now..."
Angel looked down for a moment. "You're lucky in that respect. I have yet to recover any more memories, though the ones I DO have are just a bit less foggy."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"I'm sure."
"I'm serious, Angel."
"Yeah, well, while you're remembering, there's something I've been wanting to ask you for a long time." She waited until she had his full attention before continuing. "Bryan... where did you get that scar?"
He seemed surprised by the question. "Hang on, let me think a minute... yeah, I remember now. A fight, about three years ago. It was back when I was a drug-runner for Mishima. Damn, those were bad times. Doing that work was what completely fucked up my life, you know? Back then, before..." He was silent a moment, then continued.
"It was a shipment of some narcotic, I forget which. I'd been screwing up orders lately, and Mishima wasn't too happy about it. Interpol was getting closer, and I couldn't let them see me playing both sides of the street."
"I thought you were undercover."
"I was at first, then I got in too deep. Way too deep. Fine, I started sampling a bit of my own merchandise, and I got hooked. It was heroin. I couldn't let Interpol see that, so I went deeper 'undercover.' Then Mishima found out about it somehow. They were understandably pissed that I was screwing them out of some good merchandise. They sent a whole shitload of Tekkenshu soldiers after me, to 'teach me a lesson,' so they said.
"At first, I was kicking ass on everybody out there. I'd just KO'd my fifth target when they all went quiet. They stepped back, kinda parting the waves. I thought it would be an Owl or something but it was a chick. Couldn't tell anything about her, other than that, from wearin' that gay-ass body armor and that helmet. She didn't say one word. She just looked at me for a moment, then she starts attacking.
"She was kicking my ass. I knew that I was gonna have to play dirty if I was gonna live, so I pulled out my trusty hunting knife and came at her. She grabbed it out of my hand before I could do anything about it, then she started attacking ME with it. She got me good. The face and chest scars are all from one big lucky cut she got on me. She probably would have killed me, but then there were sirens. The cops were showing up. Obviously my cuts hurt like hell, and I couldn't see out my left eye because of the blood, but I could see her staring at me and then she said something in Japanese. I think it was-"
"Hanashi ni naran'na."
"Huh?"
"Hanashi ni naran'na. Roughly translated, it means 'You're too pathetic for words.'" Angel's voice was quiet, and her eyes were distant, as though she was trying remember something.
Bryan stared. "Yeah, that's right. How'd you know?"
"Because I remember that happening."
"What? How can you, unless..."
They were both silent for a moment, then Angel's voice came, barely above a wisper. "Jesus Chist. That was me, back then." Her eyes refused to meet his. "It just hit me. Bryan... I gave you that scar."
More silence. She looked up to see him staring at her as if seeing her for the first time. She decided to continue. "I got a god-awful beating that night. Apparently my... master... had told me that I was supposed to kill you. I would have, but those sirens saved your life. My master... I wish I remembered his name. It would probably clear up a lot about the past I still can't remember. I have names without faces, and faces without names. I just wish I could REMEMBER!" She looked up at him. "One thing I do remember was feeling deja vu when I saw your face at Jerry's for the first time. I knew I'd seen that scar before, but I had no idea where..."
Bryan said nothing, he just kept staring at her. His mind raced. This is her, he thought. She scarred me. He'd wanted revenge "...so bad," he murmured.
"Huh?"
"I remember wanting to get you back for this scar. I wanted it bad. See, you're one of the few people in the world that has ever kicked my ass, and I wanted revenge so bad. Now, here you are..." he trailed off.
"Here I am..." she echoed.
Both of them stared at the floor for a moment. Then he spoke up. "I know where I've seen your tattoo before."
Her eyes snapped up to meet his. Bryan looked away instantly. "I saw him during the tournament. Never fought him, though. I just saw him fighting. Some Japanese kid."
"A Japanese kid with a tattoo... and brown eyes! He had brown eyes!" Angel's mind raced. Things were coming back to her now. She thought harder. Concentrate, she thought to herself. Who is this boy? She almost had it when-
"Aaargh!" She slapped both hands to her head. "Fuck, that hurts!" It felt like her head would explode.
"Brain cramp?"
"No, smartass. It hurts to remember... wait. Now I get it. My memories aren't lost, they're blocked! Somebody blocked my memories. That's not something you do easily. Only another telepath could do that. And the person who blocked my memories had brown eyes," she glanced down at her arm, "and this tattoo!"
She looked at him. "You say you saw him during the tournament?" When Bryan nodded, she leaped out of her chair and raced for Kenji's study. Mystified, he followed her, and saw her clattering away on the keyboards. "Before you ask, I'm looking for information on the King of Iron Fist Tournament 3. They gotta have pictures of the fighters!"
"They don't."
"What?"
"That tournament never got televised, and there were no photographers. Nobody saw the final fight. Heihachi Mishima claimed victory, and nobody's disputed it, so..."
She looked at the computer screen, defeated. "So there's no picture of him." She sighed. "I feel cheated."
Another silence descended, and Bryan took a swig of beer and leaned against the doorframe. "So, what now?"
Angel didn't answer. Her head was bowed, deep in thought. A long time passed, with the only movement being Bryan's drinking. Then she spoke. "It's you."
"Excuse me?"
"It's you. Somehow, you're connected to all of this. You used to be an undercover cop, and you were a delivery boy for a large drug dealer. I was a soldier for that drug dealer. We faced off, and I gave you that scar. It's the dealer that ties this all together. And you said it earlier. The dealer was Mishima Enterprises." She paused to think. "Okay, so I was a soldier in the private army of Mishima Enterprises. You were an undercover cop, working for Mishima Enterprises. Somehow you pissed them off, and they did something to you. Then here you are, dear brother, and you say that you don't remember what happened. I think you're lying."
Bryan could only stare. Oh God, here it comes.
"Bryan, I think it's time you told me who you really are." She sat in the computer chair with her hands folded in her lap. Her face was stern, and her eyes seemed to burn holes into his. There was an incredibly long silence, where all they did was stare at each other. She wasn't going to let him get away, he knew.
He sighed, and looked her squarely in the eyes. "I'm not your real brother."
"I know that. I was wondering why you would pose as my brother, but I decided to wait it out. Now, I'm done waiting. Keep going."
"This is gonna take a while, and I wanna sit down." She followed him closely all the way back to the living room. He took his customary spot on the loveseat, and she curled up in a chair. Her eyes never left his.
He told her everything. Everything he remembered. He told her about his history as a cop, and how he got into Interpol. He told her about being partners with Lei Wulong, and about working for Mishima undercover. He nearly choked when he spoke of that night, when he died. His eyes burned when he spoke of waking up in Abel's lab. His hands shook when he related all of the things that Abel had made him do. He told her everything. He didn't look at her the entire time, but when he finished he raised his gaze to meet hers.
"My God..." Angel murmured, followed by a long silence. Bryan started to take a swig of beer, then realized it was empty. He looked out the window. Christ, it was pitch black outside! His little story had taken longer than he'd thought. "So that means..."
"Yeah, Angel. I'm dead. I'm a fucking cyborg. So now you know. You happy now?" His voice was bitter, and rose with each word until he was almost yelling at her. They he saw her eyes. Her eyes. Her eyes were closed, and he could see tears rolling down her cheeks. "My God, Angel! If you can't stand me yelling at you-"
"It's not that. I wasn't crying because you yelled. It's because... oh, Bryan." Then she really broke down. She curled into a ball, weeping. She was broadcasting pain and sorrow, directing them at him. Then it hit him.
"Angel..." he stared at her. "Are you... are you really crying for me?" She nodded, still weeping. "Jesus, Angel, I... fuck, I just..."
A long silence passed, with the only sound being Angel's hoarse, ragged breaths as she fought to regain control of herself. Bryan could only stare at the floor, stunned. She was crying for him, he thought. She really cared about him.
Then he felt her hand, on his. He looked into her glittering eyes. "Bryan, as far as I'm concerned... you ARE my brother... if you want to be."
Bryan managed a heavy nod before something odd happened to him. Suddenly his eyes burned and stung, and it felt like he'd been sprayed with mace or something. Then there was an odd wetness on his cheek, and a small drop splashed on his arm. "Bryan... you're crying." Her voice took on an odd note. "You're crying, Bryan. And your arm... it's not cold anymore."