DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Digimon or related chars. Damn. I do however own any original
creatures, characters, and concepts (except where SPECIFICALLY noted), including this dumb fic. And while there's not much I could actually do to you should you for some reason steal my crap, I WILL put a hex on you. So THERE.
Specific notation alert: Teyu is property of my sister Sammi, who can be found on FF.net under the penname Osidiano.
Author's Note: I think everyone should know that since I can't for the life of my recall how I started this story the first time, the chapters might not be so great until I get to a part where I once more know what I'm doing. ^^;;; But I'm getting there, no worries.
This story is faintly AU (or would that be AC?) from the actual series--BelialVamdemon never happened. In fact, nothing after the release of Quinlongmon and the dissapearacnce of BlackWargreymon happened. Okay? Given that, this takes place one year after 02. I already told you this repeatedly. =P
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7
Keep Your Friends Close
What was wrong with Hikari. The question had been on Takeru's lips when he put his hand to the doorknob, had been in his eyes since Miyako had hauled him from his apartment with a hasty explanation that Ken was gone and Hikari didn't seem herself and Dai sounded out of his head. It wasn't that he wasn't worried about Ken and Dai--they were his friends too, his very good, very close friends and he was worried as all hell about them. But Hikari had a history of falling sick, she had a history of strange visions and dark dreams she hadn't told anyone but her close friend, her very closest friend about. Hikari had a history of disappearing into a strange place she couldn't describe, and once he had followed her to the dark land that still haunted him. What was wrong with Hikari was the question he wanted to ask as Miyako hauled him and Iori down the hall to her apartment, and it was the question that died on his tongue when he heard the strangled scream from beyond her door.
For a second his hand froze on the knob, and then Miyako pushed Takeru aside roughly and barged in. She ran through the entryway not bothering to toss her shoes off, and both Iori and Takeru followed suit, the door swinging open behind them and hitting the wall. The sound echoed in Takeru's ears, a harsh and sharp banging that reverberated through his skull.
In the life-worn mundanity of Miyako's livingroom the scene before the three stunned children seemed absurd. Hikari sat on her knees on the floor before the loveseat where she had apparently been sitting, hands folded in front of her but held together almost as if she were chained, trapped. Her head was back, tilted as if some rough hand had forced it there; her eyes wide and blank with a disbelieving horror, wide and blank like she wanted nothing more than to close them to a mindless terror and yet could not. There was frost in her hair; small and blistered burns feathered across her forehead, collected on her chin, curled down the side of her neck. Beside her Tailmon tugged on Hikari's shirt, hugged her and begged her and tried as hard as she knew to calm the girl, to silence the choked and trembling scream that tore out of Hikari's shuddering rigid frame on and on and on.
At about the time Takeru realized Hikari was only screaming never breathing she stopped--suddenly, abruptly as if her throat had simply snapped closed on the sound and slaughtered it. Eyes still wide and unseeing turned to them, stared forever beyond them and welled with tears in one moment before they rolled back in her head and she collapsed forward onto the carpet.
It may have been Iori beginning to say something, and it may have been Miyako suddenly snapping forward and dropping to Hikari's side; but something pulled Takeru from his deep shock and dragged him forward as well. He felt on some level as if he were watching himself move stiffly forward, watching himself kneel down next to Miyako and help her prop Hikari up, try to wake her up. She was gone again. Her hand was cold where he held it and yes she was breathing now but he couldn't hear it past the sound of her screams in his head, the sharp bang of the door in his head. Hikari was gone, she was gone into one of the dark worlds that tainted her dreams and hung like a shadow in the back of her eyes. "Hikari. . ." He squeezed her hand, closing his eyes a bit. "Come back Hikari, come on. . ."
Behind them Iori blinked faintly, looking down at the couch he still stood beside. . .more accurately fixing upon a smeared handprint upon the cushion, dark and wet and red as blood. Right now, most likely, would not be the best time to wonder why Daisuke was not there.
~~~
"Yo."
Ken opened his eyes halfway, lifted his head from his knees just enough to see Teyu drop down into a sitting position beside him on the ground with a plastic grin plastered to his face. Making a small sound in his throat, Ken lowered his head once more and closed his eyes again.
The smile Teyu had bullied onto his face dropped, and he rubbed his neck again, sitting back against the tree trunk and looking at the hunched boy beside him. "Hey. . .cheer up, okay? I'll get you home, no worries. . .just gotta figure out how to get there from here, right?" He paused for a minute, waiting for a response he guessed wasn't coming.
He was right.
With a sigh, Teyu shook his head, folding his hands together and putting them behind his head so he could lean back, and look up at the branches. ". . .Must be nice."
Ken stirred a little, but did not move. "What?" His voice was muffled against his knees, and he flinched faintly when he spoke--that burn must really be getting sore by now, if wasn't numb.
"Home. I mean, if you wanna get back so bad. . ." Teyu shrugged, closing one eye and tracking a green leaf-shadow on the branch he had been sitting on before. "Cause this place. . .it seems pretty nice." When big ugly greaseball soul-suckers aren't chasing you. He almost grinned, but stopped at the menacing snap of the whip behind his eyes. Or controlling you.
For a moment, Teyu thought this new and equally feeble attempt at conversation was doomed to a young death as well, and then Ken lifted his shoulders a little, dropping them sharply again in a shrug of his own. ". . .It's all right. I'm worried about Wormmon, and Daisuke. . .they don't know what happened. . ." He laughed a little, weakly. "Dais probably thinks I was kidnapped by aliens. . ."
"Aliens?" Teyu's eye came down from the dancing shadow, settled back on Ken. "Dude. . .he might be right. I'm kinda foreign, yeah?"
Ken shook his head, looking up a little again, with a tiny smile. "Little green men in big flying saucers."
Teyu opened his other eye, and rolled both up to look at the vividly purple-blue hair hanging in his face. "Well, I'm not green, and I'm not old enough to drive, so he's shit outta luck. So I guess your 'rents didn't expect ya home soon, huh?"
The smile dropped from Ken's face, and he turned it against his knees once more without a single sound.
Woah. Teyu sat up, eyes rolling back down as he leaned forward, trying to look at Ken through the awkward angle and the curtain of Ken's dark hair. "Hey. . .hey Ken, what's wrong? Did I say something wrong?" He probably had. . .Aw shit, that was a careless question. What if his parents were dead or in the hospital or something? What if the kid didn't like his parents (that'd be just wacked), or what if he lived without his parents in a house full of people that hated his freaking guts (that'd be just freaky)? What if--
"My parents wouldn't notice." Again it was muffled against his knees, and tired this time. "I could disappear and they wouldn't even notice I was gone, except they wouldn't have anything to feel special over any more."
Blinking, Teyu scooted forward, sitting right next to Ken and drawing his own knees up, resting his chin on the faded denim. That wasn't what he expected. . . Whatever he had expected, not that.
That small revelation seemed to open Ken up a bit--his face still pressed against his knees, and his bandaged hands gripped tighter now, but that weary statement seemed to open some kind of floodgate for the kid and be damned if that wasn't bitter water. "I thought they'd learned. . .I thought they'd stop being that way, after all that happened. After all their apologies, all their reparations and all the time they tried to spend, I thought. . ." He snorted, snapped the words out short and sharp. "I thought they'd grown up. But it's only a year and now they're congratulating themselves on what wonderful parents they've become. They're still showing me off, but this time it's bragging about how quickly I've gotten better, and now I still see the disappointment in their eyes whenever I get so sick and tired of being the little genius I let my grades slack a little. When the doctor told them I had 'hostility issues'. Whenever. . .whenever I'm not fucking perfect. . . " The last word was choked, thick and violent; and his hands where they gripped each other around his legs were going white at the knuckles, straining and shaking.
Reaching out, Teyu put a hand on Ken's back. "Hey--"
The muscles tightened under Teyu's hand, and Ken shook his head, words hissing out. "I'd rather they hate me. Just so I knew it was for me. . .so I knew they felt something about who I am instead of what I represent. . ." He took a deep breath, and shuddered, shoulders slumping again. The flood was through for now--maybe he had spent the waters, or maybe he had just closed the gate but whatever it was Ken's next words were weary again, and quiet. "I. . .I'm sorry."
"What for?" Teyu blinked. He might have almost been more surprised by that than the outburst itself. "I mean. . .you needed to get that out, man."
"I'm a complete stranger. I shouldn't be loading my problems onto you. . . You shouldn't have to put up with that."
This time it was Teyu that said nothing for a minute, and then he leaned back again, hands behind his head and eyes closed. ". . .I'd trade you. I'd give just anything to be ignored for everything except what I represent. I guess maybe then they wouldn't always be so pissed at me, and maybe my Aunties wouldn't hate me so much. Probably uncle Kai wouldn't be so hard on me then except that he's always got a stick up his ass so that's just wishful thinking, and I think he actually might not mind me anyway. But I mean, if all I had to do was get things right Auntie El and Auntie Elli wouldn't always jump on my ass for being a moron and being halfass and being whatever else they wanna call me that time. And maybe Auntie Kat wouldn't push me around and call me a weakling for not being able to use those big honkin' Guardian weapons, because we both know I'm not. And Uncle Dane wouldn't keep trying to kill me because hell. . .what do I represent to him? Nothin' at all."
He opened one eye to see Ken's head lifted, the boy turned to look at him with blinking, confused eyes. "What. . .?"
"What? Hey. . .I'm just saying I'd trade you places. I'd rather be ignored than hated. . .it's not all it's cracked up to be, yeah?" At Ken's continued stare he gave his best cheese-eater grin, flashing a thumbs up with one eye still closed. "So now we're even, right? You load me with your shit, I load you with mine. Cool?"
Ken blinked one last time, and started to turn away again. . .but then he let his hands go, smiling a little. Still weak, still strained and sad but a smile at that, so Teyu thought he had done pretty damn good. "I guess so. . ."
"Yeah!" Teyu bounded back to his feet with an enthusiasm he didn't know he had in him right now. "And hell, now we're not total strangers anymore!" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, putting a hand into his pocket and reaching down to help Ken up, though he doubted the boy would take his hand.
The smile faltered for a moment as Ken looked at Teyu's hand, then came back just a little stronger. "Yes. . .yes, I guess we aren't, are we. . ." It was only one more brief hesitation before Ken reached up, bandaged hand taking the one Teyu offered to him and pulling himself to his feet. "So how far to home?"
Beaming, Teyu socked Ken in the shoulder lightly. "Yeah, that's the spirit. Let's rock. Home is. . ."
He only flinched a little as the red whip snapped again, and the low oiled voice hissed in his head in it's wake. "Don't get too attached boy. . .he is a tool, and you still have work to do. . ."
Closing his eyes for a second, Teyu willed the smile to stay there, even as it felt more like a grimace. He didn't want to freak Ken out. He didn't want to worry Ken, nope, not now. Hey. . .they had something in common besides bad blood, and in Teyu's world that was a rare thing; rare precious thing and fuck no he didn't want to lose this tenuous fellowship. It felt so nice, to see someone smile at him, to take his hand. . . "Home is long way yet Ken, but we'll get there." He didn't really feel he had earned the right to sling his arm over Ken's shoulder like a good friend but he did it anyway. "We'll get there eventually."
While he still had the chance.
~~~
The library doors made a heavy snap-bang when Daisuke kicked them open so they slapped and groaned back on their hinges against the wall, but he ignored it like he ignored the flinch and glare of the librarian. He had more important things to worry about; he had rubbing the blood on his hands off onto his pants to worry about, he had going and finding Ken
(he's in trouble by now, 'Suke, oh yes you can put your money on that he's in trouble by now and you ain't there to help him, bad 'Suke bad)
to worry about.
Not that any of that told him why he'd come to the library.
Making his way down the tall aisles of books the undeniable impulse to come here began to fade, and he ceased rubbing his hands on his pants and instead put them into his pockets. Why had he felt like coming to the library was a good plan, anyway? And why the heck hadn't he brought
(he's awfully loud, 'Suke Don't think you could hear me with him squealing in your ear, 'Suke)
Chibimon? And why was he heading back to the very back of the library--the very very back where the old catalogues and the old newspapers and the old, old computer lab nobody ever used anymore were?
In a way, it almost felt like someone had taken his wrist and pulled one hand out of his pocket--through his sleeve it felt like his skin was on fire--and placed his palm on the slightly warped wooden door against the back wall, pushing it open. It made an aged creak, a nerve-grinding squeal that set Daisuke's head and aching wrist to throbbing. From inside the room itself there was a sudden scrambling jolt--he caught a glimpse of wide pale eyes and teal hair rushing by as someone tore out of the room almost knocking him down. Daisuke started to turn, started to look back at who the heck that was and ask what had scared them so bad, but the same hand that had taken his wrist and pushed the door open had now pulled him in and pushed it closed.
The feeling fled and Daisuke snapped his hand back, cramming it deep into his pocket again as he looked around. A dim bulb hung from the ceiling, flickering and flyblown, but it was enough to see from. Apparently the janitor had missed this room a couple hundred times-- cobwebbed and with the dust in a thick grey-brown-white fuzz over everything except a few small and scuffed footprints. Computer cords--the machines were probably older than Daisuke himself, ancient IBM fossils from the DOS-only age of digital-green and blue word processors--lay scattered on the floor, most rat-chewed and not a one leading to an outlet. It was a dead end, and the dust made his nose itch and his eyes water, and Daisuke didn't have the faintest stinking clue why he was wasting time here.
Liar. Such a horrible liar, 'Suke. . .
Daisuke jumped with a faint and startled yelp, turning and looking around for the source of the laughing comment. "K. . .Ken? Ken, that you?" He blinked, squinting towards the shadows at the back of the room.
Stick to the truth for me, won't you 'Suke?
That was Ken. It had to be Ken--not that Ken had ever called him anything like 'Suke' but who else had that soft measured voice, that certain teasing sarcasm? Nope, nobody else, not that Daisuke knew or would ever know. "Ken, what're you doing here? Hey, are you okay?" Pushing a dusty chair aside Daisuke started back towards that shadowed corner Ken's laughter seemed to be coming from.
Suits you so much better, you know. . .
"Hey. . .why don't you answer me? What happened back there, anyway?" Yeah, there was something back there in the corner under the cobwebs. . .
. . .but it wasn't Ken.
Dai stopped in front of the piled monitors, blinking dully, that oh-so-confused look finding its way onto his face again. Nobody back here, and come to think of it no footprints in the thick dust, but he had heard Ken damnit, and damnit Ken should have been back here because of it. Scowling, he kicked at the floor, sending up a cloud of dust. "Damnit!" He sneezed, and this time kicked the stack of dead monitors. "Damnit damnit damnit DAMNIT!"
The pile tumbled down, sending up more fuzzy clouds in the dark. Sneezing again, Dai started to back up, only for a falling computer to crash into his legs, knock him to the ground. He heard his D-3 fall from his pocket with a dust-muffled clatter--he was one of the few Chosen Children to still carry it with him everywhere--and slide away on the floor. Muttering a few choice curses, he sat up a bit, looking around for the blue and white digivice. "Aw come on. . ."
Before they could find the D-3, his eyes found the monitor that had hit him. They went wide, and he pushed himself back a bit on the ground, hands reaching back to seek something to pull himself up with--they found his D-3, and gripped it tightly. Something was wrong here. Yup. Something was freakycrazyweirdass wrong here, hell yes. Because that cracked monitor with it's painful, eye-burning digital blue screen said aren't you coming? in glaring white ancient typeface. He could almost hear the machine laughing at him, it laughed at him with that soft and gentle measured voice, that carelessly kind and sardonic voice he knew way too well to think it was anyone else.
Taking a deep breath, choking and sneezing on the dust again Dai sat up the rest of the way on the dirty floor, held his D-3 out with hands steady enough to almost surprise him. "You think I'm gonna abandon my best friend?" Then you can kiss my ass you fucking schizo-box. You can fucking eat me.
Something in the ancient gnawed wires must have clicked then, something in the timeless tongue of binary must have gotten through. Because then the gate found a way through; because then the cracked screen exploded into soundless shards and light. . .
and it did.
~~~~
The librarian scowled again as another child slammed the doors open, this one headed out--a somewhat familiar little girl with odd-colored hair and too-large clothing she may or may not have remembered seeing come in earlier. These children, they were so loud, completely disrespectful of public property. Clicking her tongue, the librarian moved from her desk to close the door against the wind in the wake of the girl's passage.
And what were those children doing there in the back anyway, if not vandalizing? Not a thing back there except old newspapers and old catalogues. Well, and the door to the old computer lab. But no children were getting in there, not anymore.
It had been boarded up, after all, for five years.
