Thank you to everyone who's reviewed so far! I really appreciate your reviews; they helped me get through my studies with as few spaz attacks as possible. And Ididn't fill in the blanks in the shape of Amon (though I may have gotten more of my test correct, I looked at the scoring sheet when I was finished and my inner artist took over; I felt there was too much negative space so I filled some different ones in).
Povertysucks: Yes it does, and as a child of a Jewish man, I fear you…just kidding…I want supper!
Kaidence: I cannot say anything…and I have read…very very good!
Z.A.G.: It was a time warp, but I guess I didn't space enough for it to translate….
Aliora: (Blushes) thank you! That means a lot, because I've been told that I take to long to get to the important stuff, so that's great! Actually, I find that my want to write may have been caused by my 4th grade teacher, an ex-football cheerleader, who told my parents that there was no hope for me when it came to English and that I might need to start reading more. So I asked her if I should start going over to the High School and actually reading good books, since I'd read everything in my school library. She didn't like me much after that. My English teacher hated me this year because I'd occasionally sleep through his class and I was one of the only two in my class exempt at the end of the year, and yet I write on a post-college level. Hmph.
Indirockqueen: Finally! Someone who loves good music! I'm really into basically any singer in the same area, and I'm always listening to Nina, or Ella (takes moment and pays respect to the Great Woman Whom Can Tune a Piano with Her Voice).
Flaming Wolf: I'm Irish, too and oh, Lord, if only…my mother would be so happy to see me bring home one of 'our' kind…and I think the whole cigarette thing just…gah. Scary thought though, I just realized, when I woke up this morning and my extremely curly hair was something kinda straight, I noticed Amon and I have the same hair cut. Eek. And the Lil' Bird thing just seems like Nagira, but I gotta say I have seen it done before.
xkuroxshinobix, Jewel of Tasuki, and Laureate: Thank you for the kind reviews!
To anyone reviewing: feel free to flame if you must, but first, let me address a few things:
To IhateAnimeButI: Here's my line of thinking as far as using the Japanese: I'm a mutt. I'm everything from Lenape to Lithuanian and everything in between other than Asian, Hispanic, and Italian (which doesn't explain why I look like a dead Italian constantly scarfing down burritos and hanging out at my Hindu best friend's house…mmm, samosas, yummy). Everyone in my family speaks something along with English, and having dinner with us means that you've got to think fast and speak as soon as you get it. My stepbrother was freaked out the first time he ever came to dinner at my grandparent's house, known at the Grand Hotel. I'm fluent in English and French, know a little Japanese, Yiddish, Spanish, and Latin, enough to teach to others. I'm learning Gaelic from a friend and I'm going to learn Russian this summer. Sometimes, I accidentally end up using the wrong language to end a sentence, like this: Gomen, je suis crevée et je me vais coucher, hai? Translation: Sorry, I am exhausted and I'm going to bed, okay? (BTW, Gomen means 'sorry', and hai basically means 'okay'.)
They do not speak like Americans in the show; that's Cartoon Network dubbing it. I've watched in Japanese, and sure, they use slang, but everyone does. All languages have slang. Robin grew in Italy, meaning she definitely speaks Italian and if she grew up in a church-atmosphere, she's probably got some Latin down. I don't know if it shows up in the Cartoon Network eps, but at one point, Michael says something about her Japanese and how it's pretty good. He's American, if I remember correctly, so that's partially why they get along so well; they're both strangers in a culture so very different from there own. She goes with Miho to visit the dying wife of one of the witches and Miho has to remind her to bow. So Japanese is slightly hard for her. In most European countries, you know whatever language is native to your area and you also speak English from like, day one. Therefore, Robin probably knows English.
Amon is a Hunter. He's been trained to fit in anywhere, and probably speaks many, many languages fluently. He probably knows quite a few more. (Which brings up a few questions. If Robin worked for Salomon, then why does she always feel like such a stranger? Did Juliano not train her correctly? And if she was really that good, then why was she transferred to STN-J? Isn't that like a demotion? I'll have to think about that…)
Most Americans who aren't exposed to different cultures wouldn't understand that English isn't what everyone speaks, and that everyone doesn't have the same morals that we have. Maybe that's why most Americans in other countries, like France, hate us, so much. Americans don't understand Systèm D, and that's why even those who speak French fluently wouldn't fit in well.
I don't mean it in any way other than informative, and if you have problems in the future with foreign languages, there are websites like systran.net that allow free translations of websites or phrases, and I know I sometimes use them if I can't understand.
And now, the chapter!
Chapter Four:I Sing Just to Know That I'm Alive
I sing just to know
that I'm alive
I play just to feel that I'll survive
And if there's a second place
Where ?????????? just the case
I sing just to know that I'm alive
Sugoose, Yeah Sugoose, Sugoose, Yeah Sugoose, Sugoose, Yeah Sugoose
Well the mountains they won't move no they don't
And the people they won't dance and they won't
I sing, I sing, I sing, I sing,
I sing just to know that I'm alive.
Robin brushed her hair, scrunching her nose at the knots. So many of them. She hadn't been able to wear her hair back the way she usually did for a while, but she still held on to the ribbons. Part of her felt that if she held onto them, something from before she learned of who she was, she might be able to return to what she used to be. She might be able to once again look upon the faces of Michael, Miho, Sakaki, Karasuma, and the others, with 'comrade's trust'.
Right now, however, it seemed that if wouldn't be happening; she wouldn't even get to see Christmas. She'd give Amon his present before that, then, just in case.
Amon had said at first to stay behind today, but now, he felt it better if she came with him on their trip to the old home where the manuscript came from.
He really was worried. To be doing this. Even if all of Salomon was looking for him, he was following their orders.
Weren't they his orders?
His promise at the Factory had seemed so impromptu, but it could have been well rehearsed. She had listened to Harry; she trusted him, but she did not know to what extent his loyalty. She would do anything for him, but in the end, she was afraid, he might just turn her in. He'd always stuck to the book, in more abstract ways, and it caused her to fear him in the past.
Just like at her apartment. She was afraid of him, then. Afraid of what he could have done to her if it hadn't been for her sheer luck. The barrier had been broken by a-
She dropped the brush, sudden realization hitting her as her mind's eye traveled back to that date she tried to forget. It was Amon who caused that bullet to hit her instead of Robin. That's why he used that blank.
He'd…saved her.
Nagira threw in the last shirt. Abruptly, he had to bring his little vacation to an end. He'd a case that, supposedly, according to his staff, he simply had to take. Usually, they were quite good at figuring out what was going to give him a better reputation on the bar and what would leave him taking to the bottle. Robin sat on the window seat, now sans cigarette ashes, her head cocked to one side and her blonde hair falling over it.
"How long will you be gone, Nagira?"
He gave her a pained glance. "I'm not quite sure how long this is going to take, but know now that I won't let you stay with this guy who needs a stickectomy from his ass for too long alone!"
She smiled, a small pull on the edge of her lips. He turned and crossed his arms, frowning. "We're not in Japan anymore, Robin. Smiling is okay."
"But I-"
"Teeth. You don't show your teeth and they'll think you're not as amused."
She nodded.
"I just want you fitting in, for your sake. We both know that Amon's wife would probably not have the greatest sense of humor, but still."
She flushed, and Nagira smiled. He'd known almost right away that this young woman had feelings for his brother. Of course, then he'd just thought that it perhaps might pass; she was so young she certainly would loose feelings for him and move on to someone closer to her age. Instead, he'd found that Robin, far more mature than her years, not only felt more than just a crush on his brother, but her feelings were returned.
First glance would never tell anyone anything about her other than that she probably could snap like a twig and needed increasing amounts of sunscreen.
She was strong, strong enough to bear his brother's over exceeding stoicism and his critique, and brave enough to speak out against him when he got out of line, which happened a lot.
"I really don't know what I'm doing…" she admitted quietly, then she stared at him, glassy-eyed. "Listen, if I don't get the chance to see you again…" she trailed off, and Nagira sighed at the young girl.
"You need to trust my brother, because he may not have ever been involved with century-old death prophecies beforehand, but I can assure you, he knows what he's doing."
Robin got up and crossed to the other window, broodingly. It was at that moment Nagira decided once Christmas came, he'd be taking her away from his brother from a while; she was becoming much too much like Amon.
"I do, Nagira, but I just feel like I've got no control over anything right now and that…well, it scares me."
Nagira threw another set of socks in his bag. "You should share those feelings with my brother, Lil' Bird. I'm sure he can assure you everything will be fine. He's probably going to be carrying enough heat around it'll make your Craft look like child's play."
She smiled, white teeth showing slightly. It suited her more. "Thank you, Nagira. I'll leave you to your packing, now."
As soon as the door closed, he collapsed onto his bed. He'd just given fatherly advice. Lord. He reached for another pack.
"Amon, what are you doing up at your family's place?"
Amon looked up from the shotgun he'd been looking to purchase. Robin stood close by, perusing some brightly colored tackle. Dan was standing in front of him, a pierced eyebrow raised.
"Uh,"
Robin's hand slid over his, gracefully. "Amon loves hunting," she said, a small smile. "I wanted to learn. He wanted to get a new one so I could."
Dan smiled. "That's sweet. I should teach my wife how to fish. City slicker, she is, has no idea what she's doing in here, and she walks in here and sees me and I just nearly fell over and well, I don't know why she stayed, but she did. I was voted most likely to end up a spinster. Amon wouldn't know about that…his family sent him packing to be a priest," he gave Amon a wink. "Clearly that didn't work, eh? Well, they sent him away when we were still pretty young right after his mom d-"
"So what city is you're wife from?" It was rude, and he knew it, but he didn't want to bring that up with Robin standing so close. Dan looked disoriented, but he answered anyway.
"Belfast. You want me to ring that up for you?"
"Thanks." He took Robin by the hand after paying and quickly left.
"Thank you," he said when they got into the car. Robin looked up surprised. They hadn't talked much since they said goodbye to Nagira. "For thinking quickly."
"You do it enough for the two of us. We're supposed to turn left here."
He knew it, but the reminder helped him. They were now on the ramp for the parkway. He pulled over a few hundred feet before the real entrance. "Put this on," he said, handing her a hat he'd picked up for her at the shop. She stared at it. "If we drive past any cameras-"
"And Michael could be scanning." She put it on; the tight fitting cap hugged her head, causing her ears to be a little more prominent than they usually were. Amon started to tie his hair back with a rubber band he found, but it snapped. He stared at it for a moment, a heavy exhale the only sound in the car, other than the clicking of the blinkers.
Her hand went automatically to her pocket. "Here." She leaned over. Robin gathered his hair and took one of the dark purple ribbons and wrapped it tightly around the hair. She let her mind wander for a moment to the thought that his hair felt wonderful and that she'd love to put her hands through it, and then it was back to tucking in the ends. She sat back.
His hand felt the back tentatively, and she smiled, happily. "It should stay, I think."
"Thank you."
She turned back to the road. "We're not going to make it to Meath if you keep paying me compliments."
He started back onto the road.
Robin was shivering next to him as they trudged up slight slope, and if it weren't for the shotgun in one hand underneath the trench coat, and the other free for the Glock he kept at his waist.
It was after dark, and very much after five, when the park closed. However, since the Witch they'd gotten the papers from worked at Loughcrew Cairns, they now had a way into the tombs.
"Mr. McCannus, does anyone have an idea of what exactly these tombs are used for?" She was upset, steeling herself for what was to come. Fuck the rifle. He switched to her other side, took a quick look to see if there were any cars other than theirs and the man now in front of them, and tried to place as comforting a grip as possible on her arm. She gave him a smile as suddenly he felt her stomach flip-flop.
"Of course." He was an older man, who knew a lot and now launched into what sounded like History professor's lecture. "These were passage tombs. We believe they were built around 4000 B.C for burial purposes."
Suddenly the cries that he'd only imagined so far filled his head, and he turned to see a stricken look in Robin's eyes. He reached down and gave her hand a light squeeze, walking her along so she'd stay with the two older men.
"Thank you, for doing this for us," she said quietly. The man turned and gave her a slight nod.
"It is my honor, to help the Witches Eve. If only my Uncle could meet you," his eyes widened. "He'd well, after kissing your feet, he'd probably propose!"
Robin blushed.
"Ah, here," Mr. McCannus unlocked a door to a small office and he ushered them in. Amon made a sweep, raising the shot gun ever so slightly, but then he realized that the only threat that awaited them in the closet of an office was a towering pile of papers falling on them. Mc. McCannus sat down behind the desk that took up nearly the entire width and pulled out a safe box from the bottom drawer. Amon and Robin leaned precariously against a bookshelf.
Taking a key off of a chain around his neck, he unlocked the drawer and took out another key. "Here we are. Let's go."
The older Witch exited, and Amon turned to Robin.
"Ready?"
She took a breath, and then nodded.
The air in the chamber was old, and they could tell right away he hadn't lied when he said no one was allowed in this one. Robin took a breath and leaned against a light stand for a moment, the bright light casting shadows on her face.
It was starting, already. Distant murmurs from those already dead filled her ears. It wasn't as painful as when they had visited Stonehenge, but these were by far, very powerful witches who wanted their selves to be heard.
"This was where he translated it from. Can you believe it? Told everyone it was his prophecy. Bloody git. If he really was prophetic, he'd know that his descendant would find this." He pointed to the wall.
Robin took a step forward and read, and she was aware Amon was watching her lips move quickly, eyes wide as she drank in the symbols in front of her. They had learned at Stonehenge that possessing the Arcanum of the Craft had given her this amazing ability. She shoulders fell and she turned to Amon, her stomach falling with the loss of hope.
"It's true."
"Are you sure?" he looked anxious. Why was he worried? "Read more."
She strained. It was starting to hurt; her own inner voice whispering to her the words and the voices of the dead were competing for her attention. She managed to finish the line before squinting her eyes shut, rubbing them with the back of her hand. "It talks about a woman in a lake…and a hill. It's a story."
Amon stood up as much as possible, which wasn't much because the ceiling was so low. Things were starting to sway in and out of focus, the pain of a headache setting in. She vaguely heard Amon thank the man and he guided her out. Her vision swam as the cool air suddenly stung her cheeks and she found herself tripping down a slope…
Her legs gave out under her, and it took only a second for Amon to kneeling next to her. Cool air filled her lungs.
"Come on, we're almost to the car," he said quietly. "We can't just sit out here like this."
Robin opened her eyes, and Amon's profile met her sight, his jaw clenched. "I can't get up, Amon." She couldn't. Robin felt empty and drained. "I heard them again. They weren't as angry, they just…they're jealous of us. Of me."
"Why?" it was amazing how someone whose voice could cause such pain could be so soft to her.
"Because I'm alive. And they aren't."
"And we're keeping it that way."
Robin tried, she really did, but suddenly that little bit of her that had been restrained, had silently protested to everything they did and the awkwardness between the two of them burst. "I can't take it anymore! I'm so sick of this." She rested her forehead on her chin, inhaling the scent of the grass. "I don't want to be special anymore. Amon you just have no idea what they sound like. In your head."
"I do."
Robin's head came up, and she turned slowly to face him.
"When I touched your arm while we were in there, I heard them. It only started recently, and I'm still trying to figure it out." They sat for a few minutes while she finally started to breathe normally. Here she was, complaining about something she knew how to control to a certain degree, and Amon…
Had become exactly what he hated.
She wiped her eyes. "Listen to me. Such a child." She stood up and brushed the grass of her pants, and gave a hand to Amon. He grasped it, but didn't get up right away. His eyes bore into hers.
"You don't feel any differently about…"
She shook her head, and then smiled. "I could never think of you as a witch."