MEGA MAN X: DEMONS OF THE PAST
By Erico
CHAPTER ONE: TIME'S TEDIUM
Cain grasped at his head again, wincing as the throbbing pain racked into him.
"Aah, cripes." He muttered under his breath, reaching into his desk and pulling out a heavy dose of aspirin and a bottle of water. Downing both with a fluid motion that spoke of numerous other occurrences like this one, Cain lay back in his comfortable fake leather chair and stared up at the ceiling of his office.
He should have known better than to try and do all these reports. That's what newbies were for, after all…but Cain felt he needed to. After all, he had no direct control over the Hunters anymore. The Unit Commanders were in place, well dedicated to their roles, and kept the place in line.
He was just the aging father figure. And aging, indeed. Cain had passed his 80th birthday a while back. His bald head seemed to mismatch the long whiskered beard he had, and in a blatant snuffing of fashion sense, Cain kept himself clothed in a long blue cloak with red and black trimmings. It draped off of his frail arms, and dangled loosely from his waist. That's why he wore a belt with it.
In some ways, it was like a kimono--but there were no flower designs on it. Just the colors.
Cain waited a few moments. He didn't really expect the aspirin to help his monstrous headache, and recently they'd been getting so chronic that he'd begun to call them migraines. Of course, considering the hell he lived in, it was a small wonder he didn't have hypertension, high blood pressure, osteoporosis, ulcers, and liver spots to boot.
Cain's wrinkled hands reached over and picked up the datapadd of recent Hunter evaluation reports. His eyes finally dimmed out as he saw how many he still had left to do.
"Frack it." Cain muttered, letting the thing clatter back on his desk. He punched his desk's comm switch and brought up the signal for Hazil. "Hazil, get in here for a sec." The response was quick and decisive.
"Aside from my better judgement, all right boss." Hazil's voice was gruffish and filled with a tone of annoyance.
Of course, it was ten at night. That was when the reploid usually cleaned his medical gear and went over to get plastered with Zero every third cycle.
There were so many patterns that went on at the HQ, Cain couldn't keep track of them all. Hunters had training schedules, there was the constant cycle of upgrades, funerals, and promotions…
It all seemed so shallow to him. Of course, for how long now had he been doing this? Being the old man in charge of the whole shebang, and supplying the money for it? His patents on reploids raked in the dough…money he used to keep the Hunters in working order.
His feeble mind snapped back to reality as his door opened up. Cain looked over through his bloodshot eyes to see Hazil calmly walking--and not rolling in. It had been a while since Hazil had received his leg upgrade from the clunky wheel base Cain was so familiar seeing him with. A short tally of weeks. Of course, a lot had happened in those weeks.
Sigma had returned, for one. Emilius Cristoph had bitten the dust. Bristol AND Wycost had both packed their bags and set up to wander the earth. Bastion had turned into a shallow shadow of the great Hunter he once was--Bristol's departure had completely shattered him.
X was also in the dumps, because not only did he have to deal with the fact Sigma was still there to haunt him, but also because his treasured armor sets were fading. Eventually, all of them, nothing more than data in the Hunter's Main Computer Database, would degrade beyond usefulness. That would severely hinder his ability to perform as a Hunter.
About the only good piece of news was that one J.K. Horn and his young, once rebellious protégé Allegro were now diligently at work making equipment for the Hunters. What exactly, he had no idea. But it had to be something good…
"Cain, you all right? You look a little spaced out…" Hazil said. The aging human blinked for a few moments, and then looked up with his tired eyes.
"Hazil, I don't think I can handle these reports." Hazil grunted for a moment.
"Cain, I've told you before that those things are too much for you. The eyestrain, the carpal tunnel syndrome, camaahn! Take doctor's orders for once--which considering what you just said, is surprisingly what you're doing."
Cain sat back in his seat, smiling weakly as he put a hand up to his head.
"Yes, yes…I guess I'm just trying to be useful." Hazil pursed his lips together.
"Believe me Cain, you're PLENTY useful. You're the guy we all look up to here…without you, the Hunters are missing a vital part of themselves." Cain shook his head.
"Zero and X are the strongest role models here, and you know that." Hazil slapped a hand to his wrist.
"Fine! Then you're the most outspoken pro-reploid individual we know! Without you, the reploids would have long ago ceased to exist, you know? Whether you like it or not, the WORLD is influenced by you." Cain shrugged.
"I suppose…" Cain's voice trailed off as he winced and put a hand up to his head. Hazil frowned.
"Those headaches again?" Cain nodded.
"Fourth one today…and I've already taken as much aspirin as I can." Hazil bared his teeth, then blew out a breath of exasperation.
"That's not good, Cain. I know your checkup isn't for another week, but this problem of yours is getting to be chronic. I'd like to check in on it soon." Hazil pulled a datapadd out of his large boxlike chest compartment and activated his schedule. "Cain, I can pencil you in…two days from now, 2 in the afternoon. That work for you?" Cain lifted his hands in surrender.
"What else is an ailing man to do?" Hazil scratched his gray head and put the calendar back in his chest compartment, shutting it again.
"Stop being so defeatist. You're only eighty years old…humans can live well beyond one hundred anymore. You still have a good many cycles left to you." Cain snorted, his dimming eyes growing wet.
"Yes…more years of this. Sigma threatening the world's destruction, the Maverick Virus wreaking havoc, and me leading a force that should have long ago finished its job." Cain laughed bitterly, slapping a palm to his desk. "Oh my, we'll all be having a ball then."
Hazil sighed. There was no use arguing with Cain now. He was absorbed in his own shell, and nothing could pull him out of it. Staying around any longer might push Hazil into it as well.
"I'll see you then, Cain. Now I want you to go get some sack time and take it easy for the next two days--doctor's orders. I'll have some of the newbies sort out the reports."
"Thanks, Hazil." Cain said wearily. His gnarled right hand reached over and grasped the wooden shaft laying against his desk, easing himself up to his feet and slowly hobbling along until he walked out of his office door.
Hazil folded his arms and leaned against a wall of the blue-lit room with its large window to Tokyo's night lights.
His calm, professional eyes had been honed through years of service to identify medical problems, from Buster wounds to internal bleeding and extreme trauma.
But they'd also attained the ability to pick up moods and attitudes. Hazil had been with the Hunters since they were created, for he came in on the same ride as Storm Eagle and Spark Mandrill. All three of them had come from the British Royal Air Force, Storm a warrior, Spark a mechanic, and Hazil a field medic. A damned good field medic.
And in all the time that those long years of service had brought, Hazil had seen every mood in James Cain a human possessed.
Anger. Joy. Exhilaration. Sadness.
But never depression.
James Cain, a paleontologist, amateur robotics designer, and assigned leader of the Maverick Hunters based in Tokyo, Japan, had never once in his life held depression in his many moods.
That depression came now because he felt his role in the Hunters was nothing more than uselessness. Hazil chirped his tongue against the roof of his mouth, brushing back his gray hair again.
"Cain, for once I think Sigma's finally managed to defeat you." Hazil glared and picked himself up, walking out the door.
He froze outside in the hallway, watching the once great man known as James Cain hobble down the corridor, his back hunched over and his head bowed down as if a club had struck it. It tore at Hazil to see Cain like this.
Cain had never surrendered. Not even when the MHHQ itself had been ravaged by the Maverick attacks. NEVER.
But now, it seemed, he had given up. If not on the Hunters, on himself.
"And Sigma did it the worst way he could, Cain. He didn't kill you outright, he did it slowly." Hazil mused to himself that this process had taken years. But the events of "Sigma's Sixth" two weeks ago had clinched it. "He made you lose hope in the cause."
Hazil's voice was so soft, the elderly Cain never heard him. Even if he could have, he wouldn't have responded.
His head--and his heart--were both aching.
In the bustling port of Hong Kong, people swarmed all over. Most needed to get someplace, and the night sky seemed to fade in the blazing flourescents.
One figure in particular walked the darker alleyways of this mobius, calmly going about with a mission.
He also wanted to keep to himself. As far as the leather jacketed individual cared, the rest of the world could just pass him by. He had a very specific goal, and he didn't need people getting in his way. Avoiding the main streets allowed him that role.
Some people walking by blinked in confusion, wondering why this individual was wearing dark black sunglasses at night.
The truth was, he could see fine with them on.
After all, their functions ranged from blocking high intensity light to infared and X-Ray scanning.
His footsteps grew louder as he walked into the darker corners of the bustling metropolis, having finally decided it was time to seek a place to get some shut eye. He was on a limited budget, and the hotels here were too expensive.
He was here for information, and that cost more than a room did.
But an odd noise caught his ultrasensitive ears as the honking horns and steaming vents began to fade away into the night's maw. The figure turned his head, narrowing his eyes in a scrutinizing gaze.
Just as he had thought. A scuffle in the streets. From the sound of it...
One woman...And one...no wait, TWO men.
Language, a very frightened Chinese dialect.
"Great..." The being muttered under his breath. He couldn't walk away.
After all, a part of his penance was protecting life. So he sighed, heaving his shoulders up for a moment. He slipped his hands out of his jacket, priming them at his sides.
Gleaming glints of polished metal shone underneath the dark sleeves, betraying a part of his secret.
The figure sped up his pace, calmly approaching the epicenter of the conflagration as if he was a lost tourist. Sure enough, his ears hadn't betrayed him.
One of the men however, was a reploid. The flimsy armor gave him away.
"Hey...Am I intruding on something here?" The leather jacketed individual asked, brushing back his shiny black hair.
The woman was terrified, the man pointing a menacing pistol at her and reaching for her purse. The semi-biker's appearance broke the mugging's eerie cloud.
The reploid and the male human turned to face him, glaring menacingly. The reploid, his armor colored a fuschia purple with silver trimmings waved his hand in the air as if to warn the intruder away.
"None of your business, Mack. Shove off!" The jacketed sunglass wearing being seemed to ponder the idea for a moment, then nonchalantly shrugged.
"Well, it seems like you two gentlemen are trying to forcefully relieve this defenseless woman of her wallet...as far as I'm concerned, that MAKES it my business." His calm voice had an icy undertone to it that sent shivers down even the reploid's spine.
The man, Asian most definitely glared and pointed his gun at the brash black haired fool in front of them. In guttural and drunken Chinese, he sent his retort:
"Leave now or die!" The jacketed figure raised his arms up as if to surrender, but his mouth was still firm and glaring.
"I don't think so, Buster. Just put the gun down before someone gets hurt..." The sunglass wearing man replied.
The reploid snorted, his snarling disgust becoming all too evident.
"Hey man, just shoot him!" The Chinese man chuckled for a moment and pulled back the hammer of the pistol.
"Not a bad idea." The eyes of the Chinese Man and the impetuous would-be-savior met for a moment, their eyes calmly acknowledging each other.
Then the Chinese man laughed in what could be glee, and pulled the trigger.
A bullet, flying at the speed of sound itself blew its way from the gun's barrel, flying straight and true for the fool's chest. The black haired man shook his head for a moment, even as the bullet drew closer and closer to ending his life.
Then in a blur of movement, his left hand shot out, turning the wrist to face the approaching hot metal.
In the unmistakable sound of a ricochet of metal meeting metal, the bullet was deflected easily.
The man's right hand flew up in a similar burst of speed, seeming to quiver and distort for what seemed only the blink of an eye. In a second, the reploid and the Chinese Man's eyes flew open wide in surprise.
This person who had dared to risk his life to save this woman's purse, not to mention her life...
"He's not a man..." The reploid gaped, looking like a fish out of water as his mouth flapped open. The Chinese Man's arm began to quiver, threatening to drop the gun.
For what they were staring into was a much bigger gun.
An X-Buster.
The Buster toting, sunglass wearing savior shook his head in disgust at them.
"I warned you two to put it down before someone got hurt, didn't I?" He stiffened his stance, propping his left arm underneath the Buster for support. "This is a Modified Mark 18 X-Buster." The man...reploid with black hair said.
"It has the ability to reach a level four charge with a plasma shot equivalent to a medium sized bomb. It has two special weapons, a Homing Explosive called the Narwhal Striker, and an optical nerve disabler known as the Strobe Flash." He lifted the bulbous mass of metal at the end of his arm for emphasis, so that the two attackers could clearly see the transparent crystal ovals ingrained in the metal's framework, containing the datanodes for the weapon. "So I will ask you again, sir." This time, there was a very stern and menacing tone to the person's voice.
"Put the gun down...before someone gets hurt." The Chinese Man obliged, dropping the gun as if it was on fire.
The leather jacketed figure swung his Buster arm towards an open pathway for them. "GO."
The two attackers fled without so much as a peep.
The reploid in the leather jacket sighed, glad that the standoff was over with. He'd seen too many years of this type of thing, and it was wearing him down. He unclenched his fist, letting the Buster shift back into his arm, and with a second thought, off of his arm completely and into his warp generator's memory banks.
His right hand reached up and brushed back a strand of black hair that was over his eyes. He looked over to the woman, who was shakingly picking herself up from the street, clutching her purse tightly.
"Are you all right?" He asked, in fluent Chinese. The woman took in a ragged breath and nodded.
"Thank you." She said, still amazed anyone had come to help her. "Thank you...What is your name?"
The black haired reploid shrugged.
"It's Wycost...Not like that matters. I heard your cries for help." The woman nodded, smiling.
"Well, Wycost...is there anything I can do to help you? Some money, perhaps?" Wycost shrugged again.
"I really don't have much use for it...Hotels cost too much." The woman frowned.
"You mean you sleep out on the streets?" Wycost nodded slowly.
"It's not that bad, really." The woman planted a hand to her hip and gave a curling half smile.
"You will not do that tonight. Come! You will spend the night at my apartment. It has been so long since the children have had any company..."
Wycost smiled back a bit.
"Are you sure, miss?"
"Positive. And the name is Tia Xiang."
"Tia, eh?" Wycost mused, rubbing his stubbled chin. "So, how far are we from your place?"
"Not far...not far." The woman replied. She slung the purse on her shoulder, scrutinizing Wycost with eyes that held a sense of wisdom in them. "I can perceive that you are on a quest, of some sort."
Wycost raised his eyebrows, nodding his head. That surprised him. Tia smiled.
"It runs in the family...We're seers. Come! A warm bed and a hot meal await you. It is the least I can do for you." Wycost resumed his walk, joining at Tia's side as they proceeded to meander to a busier street.
"What else can you see with that prophecy power of yours?" Wycost asked, looking down at Tia for a moment. The Chinese woman smiled weakly.
"Enough...enough, perhaps to help lead you to your next destination in the search for your friend's lover." Wycost almost stopped walking.
"Geez..." He said in awe. "That's dead accurate! You'd put those phone psychics to shame with a skill like that." Tia chuckled softly for a moment, shaking her head.
"True psychics don't need to make money off of it. That's what corrupts their power."
Sunlight seemed to continually beat down upon the tropical island paradise just off of Fiji. Of course, considering that it was just getting to summer, that was to be expected--along with the usual rain storms.
Partially hidden by the foliage of palm variety treeborgs, an incredibly beautiful two story house, with an equally attractive patio with ceramic tiling lay, basking in the sunlight and seeming not to have a care in the world. Birds chirped merrily, their feathers glittering in all the colors of the rainbow against the goldenrod sand and the aquamarine surf.
Then, a low rumbling noise disturbed the calm noises of the sea. The calm salty breeze seemed to stop for a moment as the cascading vibrations grew louder.
The lower right hand windows of the house on the small island blew open with the shattering of glass, allowing a rush of hot smoke and a brief burst of flame to pull themselves free.
The gathering of the birds in the treeborg's leaves cawed out in surprise, taking to the air and flying away to avoid the fast rising cloud of hot dark colored air that belched its way free of the house's interior.
Finally, the noises of the sea restored themselves and the disruption ceased. Outside, at least.
Inside, a pair of figures dazedly stumbled outside the side door from the room whose windows had just blown out. They were both completely sooty, the explosion having enveloped them both.
One of them seemed to have gray hair underneath the charred, blackened mass of fibers on top of his head. Calmly he dug into his pants pocket and removed a handkerchief, then proceeded to take his glasses off and clean them. He spoke up, letting his voice carry over to his companion.
"Obviously, we need to improve the safeties on that new jetpack design." The other one, looking a young twenty to the other's sixty five, snorted for a moment before rubbing the soot out of his own eyes.
"The safeties? Horn, that whole damn thing's a bomb waiting to go off!"
"Suggestions, Mr. Allegro?" The younger man shrugged, finally blinking the last bits of the explosion out of his eyes.
"For one, scrap the project. Next, work on something that won't turn us into chimney sweepers."
Julius Kinnian Horn nodded, twisting his mouth up in a half smile.
"Then you're learning. Sometimes it's best to cut your losses and move on, and such is the case of this time."
"Waiitaminute--" Allegro said warily, raising a finger to his head. "Was this a setup?" Horn snorted for a minute in surprise.
"Yahweh, no! It's just an experiment of ours that holds a lesson you can learn from." Allegro sighed.
"Whatever. Come on. Let's get cleaned up and grab lunch."
"Egg salad or teriyaki chicken?" Horn asked calmly. Allegro thought for a moment.
"Teriyaki. Hold on, I'll be right back…" In a flash of light, Allegro's lower legs vanished into a pair of thick boots of blue and yellow. He began to run towards the pool close by, then jumped up into the air.
His boots released a powerful blast of thruster fuel, pushing him even higher up into his arc.
Horn watched, transfixed as the blazing sun above glared off of the odd combination of metal and flesh.
Allegro let out a loud cry, then splashed down into the still water with a resounding 'kerploosh' and releasing a circular wave five feet high.
Julius Kinnian Horn gaped for a moment at the wave of water approaching him, and barely had time to lift his hands up before it crashed down upon him. As the water finally settled down, the dripping wet scientist noted that at least he was cleaned off.
An explosion of the magnitude they had faced inside that cramped room would have killed humans.
Then again, Julius Kinnian Horn and his assistant Allegro were reploids. The rules didn't apply to them as much.
Allegro surfaced, grinning from ear to ear as his sandy short hair dripped down across his eyes. He pushed it aside and nodded.
"Once again, nice pool Horn!" The aging reploid scientist let out a sigh of defeat.
"Come on. Let's fire up that Teriyaki already before I regret bringing you in on this."
They walked back into the house through the french double doors that led to their airy and white colored kitchen. They really didn't need to eat, but it was just something they did to feel more human.
Which in reality, is what they were. In their minds, at least. Only the body was different.
"So tell me Jules…" Allegro began, cracking open the freezer and pulling out a bag of stir fry vegetables. The elderly reploid winced at the mispronunciation of his name, but didn't speak up. "When do we need to have something into the Hunters?" Horn smiled.
"That's the best part of this. We're not on a deadline. We can take our time to put together the best project for them. An improved Mech, a faster Landchaser, a better energy shield…it's all up to us. Cain's given us the Carte Blanche--do whatever we need to, but do it well." Allegro grunted, dropping the frozen veggies on the kitchen's counter and reaching for a towel to dry his hair off.
"Kooshy deal. Have you heard back from them lately?" Cain shrugged.
"No…they seem to be pretty preoccupied."
"What about that Bastion fella?" Allegro asked pointedly. Horn froze up for a moment, then relaxed the tension in his shoulders. He looked at Allegro with relief.
"The Desert Fire? Bristol's departure seems to have left him without his warrior's spirit. The best part of it I guess, is that he won't be coming after ME. After all, I'm the only person who ever survived one of his attacks--Jihad or Hunter." Allegro blinked.
"I've been noticing that our account balance has been dropping lately. Any connection?" Horn nodded, rubbing his chin for a moment.
"As a matter of fact, I provided Bastion's love Bristol with my account card. I suppose you could say I'm footing the bill for her soul-searching." Allegro leaned up against the counter and folded his arms.
"Any specific reason?" Horn chuckled, looking at his fiesty young follower.
"You mean, do I hold feelings for her?" Allegro nodded. Horn grinned, a saintly twinkle in his eye.
"I think of it more as a Kris Kringle view. I'm giving her what she wants. Besides, I'm an old man. What am I going to do with all that money? Build another house on another tropical island?" Horn snorted again. "Unlikely. Besides, Bastion may not know it, but it makes me feel good anyway. Those Hunters, him included are facing Hell itself in their struggle. The least I can do is make one of their close friends safe on her trip."
Allegro picked himself back up and tore the bag open. Horn handed over a wok, and lit the electric stove's range.
"Shall I mix in some extra hoisin?" Allegro said gently. Horn laughed softly.
"Why, of course. A little change now and then is a healthy thing."
"Children? Mommy's home!" Tia sang out as she opened the door to her apartment. Two young children ran out from the main living room, their eyes wide.
"Mommy! Mommy!" They called out happily. The Asian woman smiled widely and knelt down, her children crashing into her arms and hugging her tightly.
"Aaaw…did you two miss me?" The young boy looked up, sniffling a bit.
"Where were you, mommy? You're later than usual." Tia shook her head and brushed his bangs back from his eyes.
"Mommy ran into some trouble on the way home…some bad men wanted to take her money." The girl with her gasped.
"Mommy got hurt?" Tia Xiang shook her head.
"No, no. Mommy didn't get hurt. Mommy found a nice man who told the bad men to go away!"
"A nice man?" The girl sniffled. Tia nodded, then motioned behind her. Slowly, the stocky figure of a sunglass wearing black haired man filled their doorway, and Tia smiled.
"This is Wycost." The mother and her two children walked into their apartment, then Wycost stepped in. He brushed his hair back and waved weakly, smiling a bit.
"Hello." He said, using their own native tongue. The children stepped forth from their mother's embrace, frowning a bit. Tia motioned to them.
"Kwai and Lon, my angels." Wycost kneeled down and looked at them for a moment, gazing into them with a gaze that on the outside was icy, but inside was interest. The boy, Lon stepped forth and frowned.
"You look weird, Mister Wycost." Wycost drew his head back, raising his eyebrows above the rim of his goggles in feigned shock.
"Oh? Why am I weird?" Lon pointed.
"Your eyes…I can't see your eyes!" Wycost chuckled a bit and took them off, holding the high quality goggles gingerly with his fingers. His brown eyes exposed, Wycost let them take on a bit of a sparkle.
He'd never understood why, but children always made him smile.
"Is that better, Lon?" Wycost responded in a lighthearted voice. Lon clapped his hands and nodded with a grin. Tia yawned and stretched out her hands, then looked to the clock. She frowned.
"Oh no…I have to get dinner ready." She turned back to Wycost with a pleading stare. "I may be overstepping my bounds here, Wycost, but can you keep an eye on these two while I prepare the noodles?" Wycost blinked in surprise.
"You'd trust me with them?" Tia smiled again, shaking her head while her dimpled cheeks expanded out. She folded her arms and leaned on a wall.
"Wycost, you saved my life, and you're on a quest to save another. I trust you wholeheartedly." Tia smiled a bit and shook her head. "Funny…you even look like my husband. He was like you too." Tia shook her head and turned around.
"I'll be in the kitchen if you need me. And their favorite book is by the couch, if they want you to read it." Wycost blinked again, smiling smugly.
"Read a book, eh? I could probably do that." Kwai tugged on his jacket sleeve and motioned over to the couch.
"Mister Wycost, can you read us the story?" Wycost shrugged. Something felt right about doing that, so he followed obediently as the two children tugged him over to the couch. Wycost picked them both up easily with his hands, scooping them up like ancient vases, and placing them down on opposite sides of him on the couch. The two squealed in delight and Lon clapped his hands.
"Again! Again!" Wycost laughed for a moment and shook his head. He took his leather jacket off, feeling that the gruffish apparel didn't belong here. Comfortably sitting in his green T-Shirt, Wycost waited. Sure enough, Kwai handed him the book laying on the lamp's desk. Wycost blinked at it a few times, then smiled.
"Collected Fairy Tale Rhymes." Wycost opened it up, then scanned the contents. He looked at Kwai with that genuine Santa Claus twinkle and pointed to the list. "Which one do you want me to read first?" Lon pointed eagerly with his small chubby finger to one song, and Kwai voiced it.
"Owl and the Pussycat! Owl and the Pussycat!" Wycost smiled so broadly it surprised himself, but through it he thumbed ahead to the right page and began to read what he saw.
"I may be a little off with this. I've never…read a poem before." Wycost shrugged and looked down the script, scanning the language and interpreting it.
"The Owl and the Pussycat went to sea in a beautiful pea green boat...The took some money and plenty of honey, wrapped up in a five pound note..."
Lon and Kwai leaned up against him, nestling into his arm, their hands falling down onto his sturdy legs, closing their eyes, drifting away with wide smiles as they shut out everything but the sound of his voice.
Wycost smiled for a moment, then shook his head with contentment. It felt so right to be surrounded by them like this.
"The owl looked up to the stars above and sang to a small guitar…Oh lovely pussy, oh pussy my love, what a lovely pussy you are, you are, what a lovely pussy you are."
Wycost's voice was clear and collected, carrying out through the calm apartment. In the kitchen, Tia Xiang boiled water, rubbing her hands on a cloth towel and watching with a calm smile.
He's so much like my husband…No wonder the children aren't afraid of him.
In that apartment at that time, it did indeed look like a family was settling down for a quiet evening.
Happy times were closer than most thought.
"Mmmph…" Lon mumbled, shutting his eyes again. Squirming a bit underneath his blankets, the boy soon fell asleep.
Wycost brushed a bit of hair out of the young child's eyes before picking himself up from the chair next to Lon's bed and walking out. He flipped the light off, noticing that a Night Light turned on immediately. Wycost smiled again and shut the door quietly behind him.
He found Tia out in the kitchen, putting the dishes away. Wycost gave her a thumbs up.
"Both the kids are in bed." Tia shook her head wryly, her eyes twinkling in the dim light.
"You've been so much of a help to me…and I haven't forgotten my end of the bargain." Tia placed the final dish away and shut the cabinet, then wiped her hands dry and motioned to the living room.
Wycost faithfully trotted after her, slinging his black leather jacket over his shoulder. His glasses were tucked in his shirt pocket, and for once Wycost looked happy.
Like Isaiah was near. Tia sat down on the reclining chair and Wycost chose the couch. Tia shut her eyes and took in a deep breath, letting her unusual foresight reach out to try and grasp onto the image of Bristol Wycost's mind produced.
She found it. Tia's eyes flashed open in a blaze of fire, and she smiled.
"I think I've found her. I don't suppose you know where a place called Denver, Colorado is?" Wycost nodded.
"It's in the U.S." Tia folded her small arms and placed them in her lap.
"Then there you go. That's where you need to leave for next to find her." Tia's eyes narrowed.
"She isn't yours, is she? Her heart belongs to someone else--Bastion." Wycost touched his forehead with his index finger and grinned wryly.
"I'll have to watch what I think around you, Miss Xiang."
"Tia." The young woman said plaintively. Wycost shrugged.
"Very well. So now what?" Tia smiled.
"Oh, stay the night. The couch folds out into a bed, and I'll bring in some extra blankets." Wycost frowned.
"I don't know…if Bristol is there, I should keep going." Tia bowed her head and dropped the smile.
"So you're leaving…like Kwan." Wycost's ears perked up.
"Excuse me? Who's Kwan?" Tia lifted her head again, now looking saddened.
"Kwan was my husband…their father. That's why they aren't afraid of you. You look just like him, save for the fact you're not Asian. Kwan was." Wycost's eyes dimmed out.
"Was he killed?" Tia shook her head.
"Not quite as clear cut. He left us." Wycost blinked in disbelief.
"He left you?! Why would he want to leave this?"
"Why do you feel the need to keep going? Why do YOU want to leave us?" Tia asked bitterly.
Wycost leaned back in the couch and shut his eyes.
"Good point." Silence echoes between them for moments.
Long, infinite moments. Tia finally stood up.
"You'd best be going then. As much as it saddens me, your involvement with us is minimal. You have a goal to accomplish, a goal that takes precedence over your rescue tonight." Wycost stood up, feeling slightly like a zombie.
"I suppose so." Wycost put his jacket back on, then slipped his glasses over his eyes. He turned to the apartment's door, then stopped in midstep. He turned back around and looked at Tia.
"Hey, what's your phone number?" Tia blinked. "Tia, I'm serious. Those two kids--I seriously do care for them. And you. If I can call them every now and then, it'll be a good thing." Tia smiled at the idea.
"Sounds good to me. Hold on, I'll go and grab a slip of paper for you." Tia walked into the kitchen, then walked out, scribbling furiously on the back of a thin cardboard calling card. She handed it to Wycost, who scanned over it quickly, then slipped it in his jacket pocket.
"Thanks, Tia. I'll call as often as I can." Tia fidgeted for a moment, then looked up nervously.
"One more thing, Wycost." Wycost nodded slowly.
"Yes?" Tia reached up and planted a kiss on his lips. Stunned, Wycost waited until she had pulled off. Tia shrugged and smiled faintly.
"It doesn't matter whether or not you're a human or a reploid. The simple truth is you're a man…a man who cares for others. That makes you better than most. And no matter where you go, you'll always have an open door and us waiting for you." Tia shrugged. "I may just be wishing, but everyone needs a home to return to." Wycost reached over and caressed Tia's cheek, then lightly planted a kiss of his own on her forehead.
"Once again, I thank you, Tia Xiang. Never lose that spark of yourself. And I will call. I will call." Wycost gave the Asian woman a gentle hug, then opened the apartment's door and walked out, shutting it behind him.
Walking out the complex's bottom door, Wycost once more trodded on the streets, heading for the airport, and a plane ticket to the U.S.
He chuckled softly, rubbing his lips with his left hand.
"These humans are gonna be the death of me--or they'll give me back life yet."
Wycost whistled as he walked along.
It just felt right.