Title: Being 286
Author: the random monkey
Date: September 11, 2003
Author's Notes: I want to give some shout-outs to my homies *Pauses for crowd's cheers* First, I wanna thank my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, I love you Jesus!* Kisses fingers and gives peace sign to sky* I'd also like to give a shout-out to my homie, Bloodshy Testament, she been a real source of inspiration, if you ain't read her fic "Love, Violence, and Swim Trunks," GO DO IT!!! Uh, after you finish mine. Yeah.
Enjoy! I own nothing.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Who can I believe in?
I'm kneeling on the floor.
There has to be a force. Who do I phone?
The stars are out and shining, But all I really want to know...
Oh, won't you show me the way?"
-Peter Frampton, "Show Me the Way"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


He lay outside, in a ditch, in a pile of Black Mage bodies. The sun had just disappeared for the night, and he could see the tiny points of light in the sky in between the heads of two of his dead comrades.
He knew something was happening to him, but he didn't know what. The pain that he had felt constantly since the house collapsed was fading, and everything seemed quieter, softer. Was this death?
He stared at the stars, thinking. He deserved death, for what he had done. But somehow, he didn't want to die. He had just started to live...
His number was 286. He had become aware that he was alive only a few days before. There, in the rainy place, where he had seen another mage get its hand cut off, and continue fighting, he had suddenly realized that he could be hurt, that he could die, just like their enemies were dying, and he had decided he did not want that to happen. But now...
Now he had no choice. Maybe he never had had one. He stared at the sky lights, and waited for the inevitable.
But something got in the way of the inevitable, and the lights, too. A face, its features invisible in the dark, except for two large, glowing eyes, hovered over him. Another Black Mage. Had it been sent to find bodies to be recycled?
The other spoke. "Are you awake, sir?"
286 was startled. Another who could talk? He opened his mouth to reply, but no sound came out. He tried again; same result.
The other looked disappointed. It began to pull away.
He felt stimuli he had felt many times in the past few days: sadness and fear. Tears filled his eyes, and his mouth opened in a silent sob.
The other seemed to notice; it leaned over him and stared for several moments. Then it said, "Crying is not a programmed response for Black Mages. If you are carrying out an unprogrammed response, you must be able to think." It nodded, as if confirming its logic to itself, then began pulling bodies off of the pile.
286 was filled with a new stimulus: relief. Maybe he wouldn't die, after all.
He studied the other as it worked: an A type, big and strong, made to go into battle first and take out the local defenses. Then the B types, like 286, were supposed to follow, destroying everything and everyone they saw..
The other removed the last body from on top of 286, then looked down at him. Its eyes widened in surprise. "You are damaged, sir," it said.
He closed his eyes. Black Mages were programmed to ignore those who were damaged. Would the other now ignore him?
It didn't ignore him. "Can you stand?" it asked.
286 opened his eyes, surprised. The other held out a hand, as if offering to help him stand. But...
286 shook his head. He had sustained damage to both legs and his right arm, and he could not move them.
The other lowered its arm and paused for a moment. Then it leaned down. "I apologize if I cause you pain, sir," it said, and picked him up.
He would have screamed if he could. Pain shot through his body as broken limbs were moved. The other began walking, jostling 286 around, and the pain increased to the point that he lost consciousness.


He awoke as the sun was appearing, alone, in a different place. Mossy, rounded rocks were all around, and he heard a stream nearby. There was a small fire burning near him. It looked like someone had started it on purpose. Perhaps the other?...
He lifted his head and looked around. The other was nowhere to be seen.
He laid back and stared at the pinkening sky. Perhaps the other had left him to die. Or perhaps it had been captured. He stared at the sky, the dull but strong ache of his body the only thing keeping him from sleeping again, and waited, once again, for death. His mind began to wander...
He had been awake when they attacked Lindblum; awake, but scared. He had seen another who had woken up, after the battle in the rainy place, and had heard the guards talking about what happened to Mages who didn't obey orders. They were taken apart, used to make new Mages.... So he had stayed still and silent, even while the other on the ship had run away. He had stayed still and silent, followed orders, warped into Lindblum. He had intended to leave, run away, be lost in the confusion, but something had happened. The killing, the destruction, the smell of blood and the sound of screams, had affected him somehow, called him, and he had given in....
He shut his eyes tight. It hurt to think about, not physically like his legs and arm, but deep down, in a place he could not reach.
He deserved to die for what he had done.
He heard the sound of someone approaching. Perhaps more humans, seeking more vengeance. Perhaps more mages, sent to make sure that mages like 286 did not escape.
The footsteps stopped, and he heard a voice. "Are you awake yet, sir?" it asked.
He opened his eyes. The other was standing above him. Somehow, the mere presence of the other made him feel comforted. He smiled and tried to tell it this, but once again, when he opened his mouth, he couldn't make a sound.
The other looked concerned. "Can you talk, sir?"
286 looked away. He had no idea.
The other stayed silent for a moment,then changed the subject. "I would like to help you with your damages, sir," it said. "I am not programmed to perform repairs. However, I think that if I do not attempt it, you will stop."
286 said nothing.
The other kneeled down by his right side and touched his arm. 286 arched his back as pain shot through him, and he opened his mouth, trying to scream. The other pulled its hands away, looking scared. "I am so sorry, sir! I did not mean to cause you pain!"
286 squinted his eyes shut and bit his lip as he waited for the pain to subside, and gradually relaxed his back.
The other was looking at the ground sadly. "Sir, I must repair your damages. Would you like me to cast Sleep on you?"
286 stared at the other. Why was this one so insistent on repairing 286? They had no reason to care about each other, and nothing in common, except that they were both aware....
286 nodded his head yes.
The other laid its hand on 286's chest and cast the spell, and 286 fell blissfully into darkness.


The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was the face of the other, who was sitting on the other side of the fire from 286. "Sir! You are awake!" it said happily, quickly moving over to 286's side.
It was after dark. He was no longer on his back; he was now leaning against a rock. His arm and legs still ached; when he looked, he saw sticks were tied to his limbs with pieces of purple cloth. Confused, he pointed at them and looked at the other with a questioning look.
"Are you attempting to ask about the sticks, sir?" asked the other. 286 nodded, and it continued. "Your limbs were bent in improper places. I attempted to straighten them. They would not stay straight. I found that if held to something straight, your limbs would stay straight. Therefore, I attached sticks to your limbs."
286 looked again at his damaged limbs. It seemed like a difficult thing to figure out; he decided that the other must be very intelligent.
"I have not found any food," continued the other, interrupting 286's thoughts. 286 looked back up, noticing the other's jacket was frayed at the bottom, and shorter than before. "I have found water, though. Are you thirsty?" It held up a makeshift container made of clay.
286 realized he was. He nodded. As the other helped him drink, he admired the other Mage's intelligence again. 286 wouldn't have thought to make a container to carry water.
"I have been thinking," said the other, after 286 had finished drinking. "Can you write, sir? If you cannot communicate by speaking, perhaps you can communicate by writing."
286 thought about it. He had never tried to write before. Using his good hand, he tried it: he traced a few shapes into the dirt next to him.
The other moved over to read what he had written. "Two Eighty-Six? Is that your name?"
286 hesitated before he nodded. He had never thought of it as a name, just a number.
The other looked excited. "It is nice to meet you, Mr. 286! My name is 287."
287... They had probably fought next to each other and not even known it. For some reason the thought made him shiver.
287 saw this. "Are you okay, sir?" he asked.
286 nodded, then thought of something he had been wondering. He wrote it in the dirt.
"'Why do you call me sir?'" 287 read. He looked at 286. "I do not know," he said. "It seemed appropriate."
Appropriate? How could it be appropriate for anyone to call him 'sir', after what he had done? After he had killed.... He began to shake again, and he shut his eyes tight, trying to block out the memories.
He felt a hand on his arm. "What is it?" asked 287. 286 opened his eyes and looked at the other mage. 287 looked worried, scared, even, unable to understand what was happening, just like... those humans....
286 looked around. Fire... Darkness.... Humans.... And suddenly he was there, pulse pounding in his ears, screams all around him, standing in the burning structure, the humans huddling in the corner. They were such small humans, and so scared; they didn't understand what was happening. For a moment he had felt a strange sensation of wanting to be kind to them, because they were alike, but he had quickly ignored it. All that had mattered was following the command, even though he knew it was wrong, because it felt right, so much better than disobeying. He had raised his hands...
Pain came streaking through him, bringing him back to reality. He realized he was sobbing.
287 was sitting on 286's right side, hands poised above 286's broken arm, looking at 286 sadly. "I am very sorry, sir," he said. "You were not responding. I was afraid you had stopped."
286 leaned back against the rock and cried, silently, for a long time.