A week later...
The doorbell rang.
Bryan looked from the TV, to Angel, to the door, to Angel, and back to the door. "Please tell me that's not another damn customer of Kenji's. Don't they fucking know he's dead?"
Angel's eyes unfocused for a moment, then she suddenly smiled broadly and leaped from her seat on the couch. "It's not. It's Jeff!"
Bryan couldn't decide whether to stare or roll his eyes. "You know it always freaks me out when you do that."
She gave him an apologetic grin before bouncing to the door. She flung it open, and found herself face-to-face with Jeff Clay. "Hey, Angel! You ready to go?" The young eighteen-year-old asked, his grin no less broad than hers.
"Just a second!" She bounced back to her brother, and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Good-night, Bryan!" Then they were out the door and practically jogging.
Bryan walked to the door to fire a few parting shots at the retreating couple. "Hey, Jeff! You bring her back by 9:00, you hear me?" Jeff waved as they jogged for his car. "Hey, Angel! Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"
"And what exactly would that be?" she shouted back with a broad smile, before climbing into the shiny green Pontiac.
Bryan stood in silence for a moment, before shrugging and waving. Returning to the loveseat, he found Takeru studying him with a puzzled look on his canine face. "She's going on a date, dog." Bryan informed him. "Her first date ever."
They sat in silence, dog and man, thinking about the events that would probably transpire that night.
*********************************************
Jeff took her to dinner at the local Fazoli's. It was good food, and they laughed and talked the entire time. They were already good friends, so going out together was nothing new for them. After dinner came a movie. He asked her if she wanted to see the new chick flick. She calmly informed him that she would remove his head and use it for a soccer ball before she went to a chick flick with ANYONE. Jeff swallowed, and ordered two tickets to the latest Steven Seagal movie.
*********************************************
At home, it was halfway through Angel's movie when Bryan felt the first twinge in his chest. A few seconds later came a dull ache in his midsection. He grimaced and muted the TV. He could feel bile starting to rise in his throat, and he groggily made his way to the bathroom. Thinking he'd had one beer too many that night, he hovered over the toilet, but nothing came up. He frowned, and rinsed his mouth with water before returning to the TV.
*********************************************
"I've seen better," Angel informed Jeff. "That one simply wasn't his best work, I'm serious."
"Yeah, right." Jeff was not a big Steven Seagal fan, but Angel simply adored martial arts films. No surprise there.
They were exiting the theater after an hour and a half. The movie wasn't that bad, by Angel's standards, but Jeff thought it sucked.
"I've seen better, too, Angel. A LOT better." He was only half joking, but wore a lopsided grin to take the sting out of his words.
They chatted some more as they headed toward's Jeff's car. It was while waiting for Jeff to unlock the door before Angel felt the slight twinge in her chest. No, not a twinge. An ache, like she was exhausted, or out of breath. She placed a hand over her sternum, and breathed hard for a moment. Jeff saw it and glanced over.
"Hey, are you okay?" His voice was full of concern.
"No, I'm fine," she said shakily, and climbed into the car. "I don't know what came over me. I'm fine, really." And she was. The chest pain had been purely psychic. Angel belatedly realized that it was from a link she had with someone. Being an empath, she inavertently formed a psionic link with people she was close to. In her case, it was Jerry, Jeff, and Bryan. She could feel their emotions, even from far away. And she could feel their pain, too. The pain she felt now was Bryan's. And it was coming back, stronger than before. "On second thought, I think I'd like to go home. Something's not right."
Slightly disappointed, but overly concerned, Jeff drove her home. He knew about her empathic abilities, and although he wasn't wild about them, he did know when she was being serious.
*******************************************
Bryan was in the bathroom again, hovering over the toilet. This time, it was no false alarm, and he was puking his guts out. When he finally emptied his stomach and rinsed out his rancid mouth, the ache returned in his chest. It felt like his lungs were on fire. He was having trouble breathing, too, and he staggered his way back to his bedroom before collapsing on his unmade bed. Then the coughs started. Hoarse, ragged coughs that made it seem as though he was trying to get rid of his very lungs. God, it hurt! And he couldn't stop coughing.
********************************************
By the time the car pulled into the driveway, Angel was in a state of near-panic, her hand clutched to her sternum in shared pain. She nearly yanked the door off the hinges in her haste to unlock it. Takeru rushed toward her, ears back with worry. Jeff and the dog followed Angel to the living room. Bryan wasn't there. "Bryan?" she called anxiously. The sound of heavy coughing reached her ears, and the trio raced for Bryan's room, where Angel threw open the door. "Oh, sweet mother of...!"
Bryan was on his hands and knees on the bedroom floor, his back arched in pain. He was coughing heavily, and she could see that his mouth was bright red. Bryan was coughing up blood. She leaped to his side, and knelt down next to him. Jeff hovered anxiously in the doorway, unsure of what to do.
Angel clapped her brother on the back several times, at which Bryan rolled onto his side and clutched his stomach. "He's having trouble breathing!" shouted Angel. At least he'd stopped coughing. A single long exhale, then... nothing! Bryan pulled with his lungs, pulled with all his might, but nothing happened. He couldn't inhale. He couldn't breathe! A wave of his panic washed over his sister, nearly knocking her over, but she responded the best way she knew how. She placed both hands on his bare chest, and closed her eyes.
It was something she'd done only a few times, but Angel had learned how to psychically manipulate the processes of the human body. His lungs had essentially shut down, much as he'd wish otherwise. Angel 'dug' for a while, and found the culprit to be a blood clot. She broke it up, and instantly felt the pressure rise from his aching chest. He inhaled deeply, the breath of life itself. Angel felt a surge of relief that was close to orgastic in its intensity. She knew she'd saved his life.
Flat on his back, Bryan opened his eyes and looked deep into those of his sister. His fit, or whatever it was, had subsided. A few more solitary coughs, a deep inhale, and then he climbed to his feet. He almost immediately fell over, and it was with Angel's aid that he made it to the bed not five feet away.
"Is he okay?" Jeff asked anxiously.
"For now," Angel said worriedly. "I think I'll call a doctor."
"No!" Bryan rasped. "Angel, no doctors. What if they..." Knowing that she would get the message, he faked another coughing fit.
Angel knew exactly what he was talking about. What if the doctors found out that Bryan was a cyborg? The media would have a field day, and there was no telling what the US government would do. Jeff, however, had no idea what was going on. "What if they what?" he demanded.
"What if they give him a shot, was what he meant to say." Angel said smoothly. "He hates needles."
Bryan raised an eyebrow, but had to marvel at her ingenuity. Jeff chuckled, and thought of the mighty, badass Bryan being afraid of shots. It was quite amusing, and brought to Jeff's mind the image of Bryan, in full kickboxing regalia, backing slowly away from a hefty female nurse with a loaded hypodermic needle. He was hard pressed not to burst out laughing as he relayed the image to his friends, and there were more than a few grins around the room, particularly on Bryan's face.
After a moment of silence, Angel walked her friend to the door. "I'm sorry about tonight, Jeff," she said hesitantly.
"No problem. I'll call you some other time, alright?" He was genuinely concerned for her well-being, and Bryan was as much a part of her as anything.
"Okay." They stared at each other uncertainly. Jeff started to lean in just the tiniest bit, but Angel shied away instinctively. Not surprised, he bid her a good night and left.
When Angel walked back to her brother's room, Bryan was starting to nod off, but she wouldn't let him. "Bryan? Bryan, wake up." When he groggily opened one eye, she sat next to him on the bed. "Bryan, what the hell was that? It wasn't natural."
He closed the eye, and for a moment she thought he would fall asleep again. Then he opened both steel-blue eyes to stare intently at her. "I'm dying, Angel."
The revalation hit her like a load of bricks. "No..." she started to deny, but realized that it was futile. She'd been inside his mind, felt his nervous system. He WAS dying.
"Yeah. You know... what I am. When Abel abandoned me, I'd been with him for a little over a year and a half. He'd do regular maintennace on me, like tuning up a car. It's been almost six months since my last 'tune-up' and, well..." He trailed off, collapsing into another coughing fit.
On an impulse, Angel leaned forward and pressed a hand to his forehead. He could feel her enter his mind, search his body for answers. When she found them, she pulled away slowly.
"You weren't designed to go this long without maintennace, were you? Your cybernetics are wearing out. They're shutting down, and they can't sustain you for much longer." Her face was expressionless, her tone flat, her eyes dull.
"How much longer?" he asked hoarsely.
There was a long pause. "A month, at best." Her tone was hard.
Silence. He cursed hoarsely under his breath, but she heard every word. "That bastard," he rasped. "If it weren't for him, I'd already be dead."
Angel adopted a curious look. "What was his name again?"
He coughed. "Abel. I said it a bunch of times. Why?"
Angel didn't answer. In her mind's eye, she saw a brief flash, like an old movie reel. She was looking at a shadowy figure, whose face she couldn't see. 'Yes, Abel-sama.' the voice (hers?) said primly.
'Do you wish to go another round before retiring for the night?' the weasely voice asked.
'No, Abel-sama...' the voice faded out, the picture disappeared, and she was once again back in reality.
"Angel?" Bryan asked, seeing the faraway look.
"That name gave me... a flashback. It's all right there, between the both of us. I just have to look for it." She looked at him. "But not tonight. You need to sleep, and so do I."
When he started to protest, she shushed him. "Don't worry, Bryan. You can sleep now. I'll be listening." She leaned over and once again laid a hand on his forehead. His mind was a chaotic jumble of thoughts, which would make sleep impossible. She calmed them into a peaceable pattern, at which he almost immediately fell asleep. At that touch, she also re-established their link in full. With Cassandra gone, she didn't have to worry about disgusting thoughts anymore.
At that sad note, she stood and left the room, turning out the lights and closing the door softly behind her. She was physically exhausted, but too keyed up to sleep. Her brother, her closest companion, the first person to ever really understand her... was dying. In her mindless wandering, she plopped down on his usual spot on the loveseat and flipped on the TV. She clicked aimlessly through the channels until something caught her eye. It was an advertisement with Japanese characters on the screen, with an English narration. No, not an advertisement. A notice, or an announcement. She'd almost read the Japanese characters when they disappeared an and older-looking Japanese man appeared on the screen and started speaking his native language in a rough, deep voice. It was somewhat muted, as that quiet male voice continued to translate in English.
"My name is Heihachi Mishima, owner and CEO of Mishima Enterprises, in Japan. I am here to announce the King of Iron Fist Tournament 4, sponsored by my company.
"I am old, and I must find a successor. I want that person to be a strong, capable person much like myself. Thus, the winner of this tournament shall be given the entire company as their prize!" The picture faded, to be replaced by the Mishima Enterprises logo, before returning to the evening news.
Angel stared at the TV, stunned. Tournament? Mishima? The man, as well as his company, were connected to her past, though she couldn't remember how, other than the fact that they had been the ones to train her. But why? And didn't Bryan say that their mutual master, Dr. Abel, had been recruited by Mishima as its top scientific advisor?
Suddenly the future of Bryan Fury and Angel Leah had gotten much simpler. Angel now knew where she and Bryan were going. They had to stake everything they had on this one hope: The King of Iron Fist Tournament 4.
The doorbell rang.
Bryan looked from the TV, to Angel, to the door, to Angel, and back to the door. "Please tell me that's not another damn customer of Kenji's. Don't they fucking know he's dead?"
Angel's eyes unfocused for a moment, then she suddenly smiled broadly and leaped from her seat on the couch. "It's not. It's Jeff!"
Bryan couldn't decide whether to stare or roll his eyes. "You know it always freaks me out when you do that."
She gave him an apologetic grin before bouncing to the door. She flung it open, and found herself face-to-face with Jeff Clay. "Hey, Angel! You ready to go?" The young eighteen-year-old asked, his grin no less broad than hers.
"Just a second!" She bounced back to her brother, and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Good-night, Bryan!" Then they were out the door and practically jogging.
Bryan walked to the door to fire a few parting shots at the retreating couple. "Hey, Jeff! You bring her back by 9:00, you hear me?" Jeff waved as they jogged for his car. "Hey, Angel! Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"
"And what exactly would that be?" she shouted back with a broad smile, before climbing into the shiny green Pontiac.
Bryan stood in silence for a moment, before shrugging and waving. Returning to the loveseat, he found Takeru studying him with a puzzled look on his canine face. "She's going on a date, dog." Bryan informed him. "Her first date ever."
They sat in silence, dog and man, thinking about the events that would probably transpire that night.
*********************************************
Jeff took her to dinner at the local Fazoli's. It was good food, and they laughed and talked the entire time. They were already good friends, so going out together was nothing new for them. After dinner came a movie. He asked her if she wanted to see the new chick flick. She calmly informed him that she would remove his head and use it for a soccer ball before she went to a chick flick with ANYONE. Jeff swallowed, and ordered two tickets to the latest Steven Seagal movie.
*********************************************
At home, it was halfway through Angel's movie when Bryan felt the first twinge in his chest. A few seconds later came a dull ache in his midsection. He grimaced and muted the TV. He could feel bile starting to rise in his throat, and he groggily made his way to the bathroom. Thinking he'd had one beer too many that night, he hovered over the toilet, but nothing came up. He frowned, and rinsed his mouth with water before returning to the TV.
*********************************************
"I've seen better," Angel informed Jeff. "That one simply wasn't his best work, I'm serious."
"Yeah, right." Jeff was not a big Steven Seagal fan, but Angel simply adored martial arts films. No surprise there.
They were exiting the theater after an hour and a half. The movie wasn't that bad, by Angel's standards, but Jeff thought it sucked.
"I've seen better, too, Angel. A LOT better." He was only half joking, but wore a lopsided grin to take the sting out of his words.
They chatted some more as they headed toward's Jeff's car. It was while waiting for Jeff to unlock the door before Angel felt the slight twinge in her chest. No, not a twinge. An ache, like she was exhausted, or out of breath. She placed a hand over her sternum, and breathed hard for a moment. Jeff saw it and glanced over.
"Hey, are you okay?" His voice was full of concern.
"No, I'm fine," she said shakily, and climbed into the car. "I don't know what came over me. I'm fine, really." And she was. The chest pain had been purely psychic. Angel belatedly realized that it was from a link she had with someone. Being an empath, she inavertently formed a psionic link with people she was close to. In her case, it was Jerry, Jeff, and Bryan. She could feel their emotions, even from far away. And she could feel their pain, too. The pain she felt now was Bryan's. And it was coming back, stronger than before. "On second thought, I think I'd like to go home. Something's not right."
Slightly disappointed, but overly concerned, Jeff drove her home. He knew about her empathic abilities, and although he wasn't wild about them, he did know when she was being serious.
*******************************************
Bryan was in the bathroom again, hovering over the toilet. This time, it was no false alarm, and he was puking his guts out. When he finally emptied his stomach and rinsed out his rancid mouth, the ache returned in his chest. It felt like his lungs were on fire. He was having trouble breathing, too, and he staggered his way back to his bedroom before collapsing on his unmade bed. Then the coughs started. Hoarse, ragged coughs that made it seem as though he was trying to get rid of his very lungs. God, it hurt! And he couldn't stop coughing.
********************************************
By the time the car pulled into the driveway, Angel was in a state of near-panic, her hand clutched to her sternum in shared pain. She nearly yanked the door off the hinges in her haste to unlock it. Takeru rushed toward her, ears back with worry. Jeff and the dog followed Angel to the living room. Bryan wasn't there. "Bryan?" she called anxiously. The sound of heavy coughing reached her ears, and the trio raced for Bryan's room, where Angel threw open the door. "Oh, sweet mother of...!"
Bryan was on his hands and knees on the bedroom floor, his back arched in pain. He was coughing heavily, and she could see that his mouth was bright red. Bryan was coughing up blood. She leaped to his side, and knelt down next to him. Jeff hovered anxiously in the doorway, unsure of what to do.
Angel clapped her brother on the back several times, at which Bryan rolled onto his side and clutched his stomach. "He's having trouble breathing!" shouted Angel. At least he'd stopped coughing. A single long exhale, then... nothing! Bryan pulled with his lungs, pulled with all his might, but nothing happened. He couldn't inhale. He couldn't breathe! A wave of his panic washed over his sister, nearly knocking her over, but she responded the best way she knew how. She placed both hands on his bare chest, and closed her eyes.
It was something she'd done only a few times, but Angel had learned how to psychically manipulate the processes of the human body. His lungs had essentially shut down, much as he'd wish otherwise. Angel 'dug' for a while, and found the culprit to be a blood clot. She broke it up, and instantly felt the pressure rise from his aching chest. He inhaled deeply, the breath of life itself. Angel felt a surge of relief that was close to orgastic in its intensity. She knew she'd saved his life.
Flat on his back, Bryan opened his eyes and looked deep into those of his sister. His fit, or whatever it was, had subsided. A few more solitary coughs, a deep inhale, and then he climbed to his feet. He almost immediately fell over, and it was with Angel's aid that he made it to the bed not five feet away.
"Is he okay?" Jeff asked anxiously.
"For now," Angel said worriedly. "I think I'll call a doctor."
"No!" Bryan rasped. "Angel, no doctors. What if they..." Knowing that she would get the message, he faked another coughing fit.
Angel knew exactly what he was talking about. What if the doctors found out that Bryan was a cyborg? The media would have a field day, and there was no telling what the US government would do. Jeff, however, had no idea what was going on. "What if they what?" he demanded.
"What if they give him a shot, was what he meant to say." Angel said smoothly. "He hates needles."
Bryan raised an eyebrow, but had to marvel at her ingenuity. Jeff chuckled, and thought of the mighty, badass Bryan being afraid of shots. It was quite amusing, and brought to Jeff's mind the image of Bryan, in full kickboxing regalia, backing slowly away from a hefty female nurse with a loaded hypodermic needle. He was hard pressed not to burst out laughing as he relayed the image to his friends, and there were more than a few grins around the room, particularly on Bryan's face.
After a moment of silence, Angel walked her friend to the door. "I'm sorry about tonight, Jeff," she said hesitantly.
"No problem. I'll call you some other time, alright?" He was genuinely concerned for her well-being, and Bryan was as much a part of her as anything.
"Okay." They stared at each other uncertainly. Jeff started to lean in just the tiniest bit, but Angel shied away instinctively. Not surprised, he bid her a good night and left.
When Angel walked back to her brother's room, Bryan was starting to nod off, but she wouldn't let him. "Bryan? Bryan, wake up." When he groggily opened one eye, she sat next to him on the bed. "Bryan, what the hell was that? It wasn't natural."
He closed the eye, and for a moment she thought he would fall asleep again. Then he opened both steel-blue eyes to stare intently at her. "I'm dying, Angel."
The revalation hit her like a load of bricks. "No..." she started to deny, but realized that it was futile. She'd been inside his mind, felt his nervous system. He WAS dying.
"Yeah. You know... what I am. When Abel abandoned me, I'd been with him for a little over a year and a half. He'd do regular maintennace on me, like tuning up a car. It's been almost six months since my last 'tune-up' and, well..." He trailed off, collapsing into another coughing fit.
On an impulse, Angel leaned forward and pressed a hand to his forehead. He could feel her enter his mind, search his body for answers. When she found them, she pulled away slowly.
"You weren't designed to go this long without maintennace, were you? Your cybernetics are wearing out. They're shutting down, and they can't sustain you for much longer." Her face was expressionless, her tone flat, her eyes dull.
"How much longer?" he asked hoarsely.
There was a long pause. "A month, at best." Her tone was hard.
Silence. He cursed hoarsely under his breath, but she heard every word. "That bastard," he rasped. "If it weren't for him, I'd already be dead."
Angel adopted a curious look. "What was his name again?"
He coughed. "Abel. I said it a bunch of times. Why?"
Angel didn't answer. In her mind's eye, she saw a brief flash, like an old movie reel. She was looking at a shadowy figure, whose face she couldn't see. 'Yes, Abel-sama.' the voice (hers?) said primly.
'Do you wish to go another round before retiring for the night?' the weasely voice asked.
'No, Abel-sama...' the voice faded out, the picture disappeared, and she was once again back in reality.
"Angel?" Bryan asked, seeing the faraway look.
"That name gave me... a flashback. It's all right there, between the both of us. I just have to look for it." She looked at him. "But not tonight. You need to sleep, and so do I."
When he started to protest, she shushed him. "Don't worry, Bryan. You can sleep now. I'll be listening." She leaned over and once again laid a hand on his forehead. His mind was a chaotic jumble of thoughts, which would make sleep impossible. She calmed them into a peaceable pattern, at which he almost immediately fell asleep. At that touch, she also re-established their link in full. With Cassandra gone, she didn't have to worry about disgusting thoughts anymore.
At that sad note, she stood and left the room, turning out the lights and closing the door softly behind her. She was physically exhausted, but too keyed up to sleep. Her brother, her closest companion, the first person to ever really understand her... was dying. In her mindless wandering, she plopped down on his usual spot on the loveseat and flipped on the TV. She clicked aimlessly through the channels until something caught her eye. It was an advertisement with Japanese characters on the screen, with an English narration. No, not an advertisement. A notice, or an announcement. She'd almost read the Japanese characters when they disappeared an and older-looking Japanese man appeared on the screen and started speaking his native language in a rough, deep voice. It was somewhat muted, as that quiet male voice continued to translate in English.
"My name is Heihachi Mishima, owner and CEO of Mishima Enterprises, in Japan. I am here to announce the King of Iron Fist Tournament 4, sponsored by my company.
"I am old, and I must find a successor. I want that person to be a strong, capable person much like myself. Thus, the winner of this tournament shall be given the entire company as their prize!" The picture faded, to be replaced by the Mishima Enterprises logo, before returning to the evening news.
Angel stared at the TV, stunned. Tournament? Mishima? The man, as well as his company, were connected to her past, though she couldn't remember how, other than the fact that they had been the ones to train her. But why? And didn't Bryan say that their mutual master, Dr. Abel, had been recruited by Mishima as its top scientific advisor?
Suddenly the future of Bryan Fury and Angel Leah had gotten much simpler. Angel now knew where she and Bryan were going. They had to stake everything they had on this one hope: The King of Iron Fist Tournament 4.