Plura Ater Nox

Chapter 11

Gently stroking a hand over his twin's face, Jeremiah sighed. At least his brother's fever had gone down somewhat. The chi transfer had worked. He could have taken down the fever entirely but didn't want to overdose on the chi.

He sat on the edge of his twin's bed, concertedly pressing a cool, damp rag to his brother's face. He stared neutrally into his twin's peaceful expression. He sighed, lost in thought, as his eyes remained riveted in place. 'He's innocent...so sweet. It's like before.'

A thin wane smile quirked over his lips as he pressed the rag once more to his brother's face before dropping into the bowl, a series of ripples in circles around the slowly dampening rag. He didn't notice, his hand out of the bowl, touch his twin's warm face before he softly pressed his mouth against Séamus', gently pushing his brother's lips apart as he fed his twin chi.

He felt light-headed; he rarely did initiate such transfers frequently. The loss of chi hit him, making him dizzy yet it felt great. He couldn't explain it; not even to him self.

Brushing a hand over his twin's flush face, he sighed softly. "Just like before, you've changed none, brother, just more beautiful than I remember. Though you're stronger, you're still likely to get sick; so stubbornly beautiful, Shun-chan."

There was a small twitch in the features of the resting twin; his nose twitched though it was irritated. It stopped briefly. A sigh escaped him. He seemed to be peacefully resting but in actuality he was awake, hearing his twin's word, but gave no hint of it.

A small mirthful chuckle came from Jeremiah. 'He's not awake and still can be kinda funny in a cute way. I wonder...' he mused, watching his twin, who he believed was sleeping, with a strange close intent.

He then brushed his lips over the nose of the resting one. Once more, Séamus' nose twitched at the touch. This time he murmured a partially incoherent phrase, "stop...lemme sleep..."

"He's awake. How're you feeling, brother?!" Jeremiah whispered, his face next to his brother's. He pressed a cool cheek against his twin's feverishly warm one. "Any better or like total shit?!" He didn't speak seriously, there was after all, no need for it. He didn't want to nor feel like depressing his brother. He wished to extract any type of laugh, or at least witness a wane smile crack across those lips.

"Why ask?! You know what the bloody answer's gonna be." Séamus growled, though a weak smile quirk over his features.

"I knew it would be that, I had to ask anyways. Besides, it made you smile..." Jeremiah pointed out (un)helpfully.

"Hn...like I give a flying rat's ass." Séamus muttered, his eyes meeting his brother's. "I didn't need it. What I need is sleep, ain't gettin' much now..."

"Aw, my poor dear brother..."

"Oh shut-up you!"

"You're still real cranky aren't you?!"

"No shit, Sherlock!"

"Need anything to drink, something to make it go away?!" Jeremiah queried, breaking the topic. He lightly brushed a hand over his brother's flush face.

"I need the Father to have my last rites 'cause I feel like I kinda wanna and gonna die." Séamus groused. He didn't want to say so, but in reality he was feeling better. He didn't know why. Whenever an ailment afflicted him, he never felt this well after just a night's rest.

He blinked in perplexity, gazing at Jeremiah. "What did ya give me anyway?!"

"I....I used chi..." He replied quietly, not knowing how Séamus would likely react, or even know what it was.

"Chi?! Transference?!" The younger pressed. "Like before..."

Jeremiah blinked, a realisation dawning suddenly on his conscious. "You...remember?! You honestly remember that much, brother?! So...it didn't shock you..."

"No, it's okay, Aniki. I liked it when you did it, it took away the hurt." His response was a low, gratefully whisper. Séamus touched a shaky weak hand to his brother's face. "It's okay, it wouldn't have."

"I'm glad, brother. Now be honest, how're you really feeling?!"

"Li'l better."

"Want soup or something to drink to at least get something in your stomach?!" It was less of a question than an order.

He sheepishly grinned. "I don't have much choice do I?!"

"Not really, but c'mon, it'll make you feel better."

"If you say so."

"I do say so!"

"You're starting to abuse your spot as the older one, I hope you know that." Séamus pointed out.

"I know, and I love it!" Jeremiah stood up, smirking. He then slithered from the room, stopping to wink at his brother before disappearing from the entrance to the small, cramped quarters.

~~~~

Standing, his ice blue eyes riveted to a map from France on the layout of the area around Dunkirk, Captain JC Andreas sighed, frustrated. According to military snitches, the security in the area was near impenetrable at almost all times of day except at the darkest hour before the break of dawn.

He studied the statistics from the last failed mission. He placed a peg in where the last attack was launched from making a strategic note that said point would be dangerous to penetrate. He shifted some other items around based on information he received. He needed this military operation to be successful.

His eyes drifted, landing on another piece of paper. It had been attached to what had been reported to be a carrier pigeon. The scouts in the area had picked it up and brought it to him, saying it might be useful because it was from one of the POWs under the command of Lieutenant Van Eyke.

He had the name of the in-command officer. It was certainly helpful. He had dismissed his scouts with orders to acquire information on the lieutenant and more on the girl who had sent the message via carrier pigeon. He also requested information on the resistance that was growing in that area.

The scout objected. "But sir, there isn't any evidence as such!"

"Silence! I don't want any more dead-end evidence! I want to know more about Ms Beauregard. Surely you jest you maladroit harlequin! How can you say there isn't one? Clearly by her letter, there is! Now, use your skills and stop fucking up!"

"Ye-yes sir!" The scout shook. The blonde captain was certainly frightening. The man had an air of confidence and arrogance that made him imposing as well as scary. The scout pitied the soldiers that were under this man's command. "I-I'll see right to it!"

He ran off, terrified of any repercussions if he lurked around the area any more.

Snorting scornfully, Captain Andreas turned back to his collected data.

"You certainly were harsh on the boy, wouldn't you says, Andreas?!" Smirk Captain Stonewall. The chocolate brown haired man stood against the doorframe before sauntering in gracefully. "The best way to get what you want isn't to scare the hell out of these messengers you've sent but perhaps, try a foreign concepts of...oh, let's say, politeness?!"

Captain Andreas looked up, growling. How he loathed it when these man was sarcastic and made such remarks. "If you can think of a better way of doing this, then why don't you enlighten me, since you think you could obviously do a better job!"

"For one thing, I suggest we forgo using the military's resources and draft the reprobates from the IRA. They might actually be useful for something. A plus on using tem for this operation would be that they can fight dirty."

Captain Andreas hummed thoughtfully, musing on what was being suggested. "You know, as much as I don't want to follow any of your suggestions, you might be on to something there. It would be a waste to use valuable resources for a mission. They could serve well in holding the post if and when we do secure it for our interests."

"Also, I'd hate to interfere with your genius military strategy, but perhaps, you shouldn't plan this alone. After all, that is what leads to flaws and operations that are Swiss cheese in nature."

"You want in on this?!"

"It'll provide me with a chance to do something other than train a bunch of whiney country boys who just want to go cryin' to their mamas."

"Underneath that polite, proper exterior is a cruel drill sergeant." The blonde captain smirked knowingly. His lips were quirked, twisted. He spoke with a knowing, snide tone, as he regarded the other captain.

"Polite or not, it isn't the way on the battlefield. It's a war out there and if you can't take a bit of training, then you ought to be shipped to the factories to work long side them women, sewing up parachutes and uniforms." The regal mannered captain replied coldly.

"I'm starting to like your style even if I say you shouldn't have been born. At least you know military strategy. You're quick. Perhaps we could pool our efforts together, make something magnificent out of this small, petty campaign."

"It would be nice to regain Nazi claimed land and push them nationalists back behind their boarder and seal them in where they belong. They're about as bad as those Bolsheviks! Sad part is, we're allied with no lesser of two evils. Before we appeased the Nazis and isolated the Soviets, now we're doing the opposite. I wish there were a way to cleanse the world of both the Bolsheviks and Nazis."

"We could start by pushing those damn Nazis out of Dunkirk. If this operation is successful, then we should take a large number of troops and push inward. The Americans that have come over, not those under my command, but others, haven't done much, except training. They've been useless."

"Why not give them a taste of war? We could use them to back up the IRA degenerates. It'll make a good combat crew. If we mix military trained men with men with street intelligence, perhaps we could develop our own form of 'Blitzkrieg', give the Nazis a taste of their own poisonous medicine and drive them back."

Captain Andreas nodded, considering the proposition. Despite his loath for this man, the man did have a good head that was certainly strapped on right. He had to admire the man for that. He certainly had a good range of knowledge. He smiled strangely. "Sounds plausible, I'll admit, very strategic. It would no doubt catch the patrolling nationalists off-guard, create chaos amongst their ranks."

He paused, picking up some information. "Take a glance over this. It's a brief over view of the company that's occupying the base I want to reclaim. They're fairly organised and fall under the command of one Lieutenant Van Eyke. From what information as been gathered, it seems this man isn't asleep on the job, he's alert. They also hold POWs."

Taking the papers, Captain Stonewall gave them a cursory glance over. "It seems they are quite organised." He nodded. "I don't supposed you noticed this." He turned the page over. "The scout you had sent, seems to think this man has some sort of illusionary powers. Indications point towards such. His observations state that he saw this through a window."

"Illusions." Captain Andreas stated simply. "There was only one I knew that had such powers. Ruo Chuin, better known as Tomo."