Warnings: A bit OOC?
Notes: I'm going to be very busy in the next few weeks, so I caved and decided to post this although I only skimmed over the chapter after my beta commented on it. I'm not sure when another update will occur, but I might reload this sometime later if I find any glaring errors. Thanks to my wonderful readers and reviewers for your support and patience.
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Chapter 13 - Crime
It was gloomy. Under the artificial sky of the observation deck there was only rain and fog. Leena raised the palms of her hands to catch the water droplets falling from above, but the holograms faded before they reached mid-way and did not strike her hand. The mirage water never reached the ground, never made a noise, never felt the warm skin of a hand before dashing onto the smooth white surface beneath Leena's boots and to their death.
Garu wasn't here.
A part of Leena was still anxious, but a greater part of her was glad. What would she have done if Garu had been here? What would she have done if she had found Garu stretched beneath stormy heavens with an expression more somber than the -
She turned abruptly on her heel and fled.
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He had woken that day, feeling trapped and drained like a fly stuck in hardening amber. It was black in his dreams. Always black. During his sleep he only focused on himself, taking the time to sit down on the cool obsidian stone floor of his dream world. He'd think about the future, always the future, and never the past. If he hurt because his muscles ached from exercising too much, he did not bother to give it more than a cursory thought. There was a greater pain, a greater ache in his heart that circulated with each pump of his blood. It had always been there, buried under cooled lava, a living river of magma, churning and flowing, a dazzling fiery liquid, hungry and glowing with life. Now, it stirred in greater waves than before. When things became too much, he pushed himself harder instead of pausing and pondering like another candidate might do. When he ran, the heat in his body became beautiful, a pushing force that propelled him higher and higher, until his head, heart, and lungs throbbed. But in the dreams, when he was somehow forced into introspection, the crackling energy in him became a burden. He found himself wondering, imagining, and growing frightened. No one else felt this way. No one possibly could. In that darkness, there came a brief light. It was only sometimes, a small window at the edge of his consciousness. A window. Through it he glimpsed white emptiness. White airy emptiness. Once a colorless bird alighted on the window sill and as its feet touched the banister its feathers grew smoky and gray, looking more solid and tangible than it had been before. The bird was a bridge to something, or perhaps from somewhere, but he never went toward it. Lately, the other world had grown dark, too, into a more menacing black than his own, and he was glad he had shied away. The magma thrumming underneath his black floor was warm like a mother's lullaby, and he clung to it still when the song became twisted and shrill. If he only ran enough, pushed hard enough, he would be tired again and the magma would recede and go back to sleep and murmur to him again.
Gareas Elidd believed this.
He believed this even though the waves grew bigger and bigger everyday, when finally, in desperation, he just let it all explode.
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It was past curfew. Gareas frowned and carefully sneaked out of bed, changing out of his pajamas and into the dark material of his training outfit. He crept silently through the halls into the wing where the girl dormitories where located. At the forbidden door, he punched in the appropriate code, hassled out of Candidate 33, the resident computer nerd, with friendly jabs, teasing, and laughter. The door slid open with a soft "whish," and he walked to the bed by the far end. His green eyes roamed quickly over the other sleeping girls. Their faces were soft, and so where the curves of their bodies under their blankets. In the lunchroom, under bright fluorescent lighting and the jealous grinding teeth of Rio, flirt-in-training, he had made lewd remarks about these same curves and smiled whether their receivers had responded with giggles or slaps. But it was night now, and the girls were still and distant. The stars shone bright through the windows above their headboards, and cast a complex pattern of light and shadow across their dreaming forms. Suddenly, they were more than what he had seen of them. Gareas frowned again, but only to himself and made his way to Leena's bedside. Unlike the others, Leena just was. In the night, she remained familiar and comforting, except there was just one incongruity. She was frowning. He pressed his fingers against her cheek in a not quite gentle way so that the skin indented. He bent down to whisper into her ear. His voice came out gruff, apprehensive, even though he didn't mean to be so, "Leena."
His partner's frown deepened, and her eyebrows twitched. She swatted away his hand, and mumbled something.
"Leena," he let the syllables roll smoothly off his tongue now in a more successful second attempt.
"Garu!" Leena woke. She gasped, and shot straight up in bed. Her face smoothed in dazed happiness, but then contorted in somber distress. "What are you doing here?!" She hissed, managing to still look concerned at the same time. "Do you know what happens if you're caught?!"
"I need my repairer," Gareas replied solemnly, taking her hand. She latched onto it and shuffled off the bed into her slippers.
"Gareas?" She seemed lost in the night. A child in her nightgown with her head of sleep-rumpled blonde hair.
"Get dressed. Please," Gareas added coaxingly. It unnerved him to see her so disoriented, it made the faint uncertainty in him stir. But his plan would work. It had to.
"Okay," Leena said, nodding decisively. Her blue eyes grew light and cold, and he had no other words to describe it, but they flashed. She went to the bathroom to change and Gareas let her complete trust in him seep into his bones. When she returned, she was no longer the child he had woken; now she felt infinitely older. He found his body leaning towards her, gravitating without knowing. She smiled and slipped her arms around him, and he no longer felt as foolish as he did for wanting her reassurance. Together, they sneaked out of the room, and waited until the security cameras rotated a certain fraction of their 360 degree swivels to make it into the halls undetected.
"There's to be a battle tonight. I'm taking down 34," Gareas said in the tense silence.
"How will we get into the training grounds?" Leena inquired in a whisper.
"The codes have been hacked. We have all the necessary information." He stilled when he caught the faint flash of a lens. He sheltered her against a corner and counted slowly to five before he pulled her out from the alcove. They passed through the wing of the boys' dormitories, and as they did he slowed when he passed by a certain door. He breathed for a moment, just standing there. Some of the lava in him quieted, some of the apprehension, even the fear did too, as if siphoned away.
"This is Ernest's room," Leena said. Gareas' head whipped around at her quiet statement, and relaxed when he found her tracing the 39 printed by the door. The numbers were very small and barely readable in the dim light. No one had expected 39 to be an empath. The other rooms had permanent, embossed numbers on their doors, so that scores of candidates, in consecutive numbers of two sometimes three had resided in them through the years. Ernest, as an exception, had been moved to this single makeshift room.
"I didn't realize it was his. I wander through the night sometimes, when I can't sleep. Just, by the time I wander this far, I usually feel better, so I stop for a break," Gareas murmured, feeling defensive.
"Do you visit often, Garu?" Leena said softly, still tracing the mark. She dipped her head, and her front bangs hid her eyes. The cheap black paint flaked a little under her nails.
"Leena, if you keep doing that, it'll fall off," Gareas said, drawing her had away.
"Sorry."
"Anyway. This isn't about Ernest."
"You're going against all regulations to have a punching match with 34 and you tell me it's not about Ernest?" Leena smiled wryly.
"No. It's not."
"Come on. You love to play the knight in shinning armor. I won't begrudge you another damsel in distress to save," Leena said jokingly. She lifted her head and her eyes were gentle. "You, Gareas Elidd, are a big softie at heart."
"Leena, you're no damsel in distress. Ernest isn't either," Gareas huffed back good-naturedly, relaxing under her teasing. His next words were uttered in a completely different tone, "I told you this isn't about him. Maybe it started as that, but it isn't anymore."
"You mean, you really aren't going to rescue Ernest?" Leena said, confused.
"No. That's just an excuse."
There was again hardness in Gareas' face, and this time Leena could see an irrational anger in his eyes. Leena wondered how she could make it all better but when he stepped away from the door and tugged at her hand again, she followed.
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Alone in his room, a blonde boy suddenly tossed in his sleep. The sheets twisted around his distressed form in growing chaos before he was abruptly still again.
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"You shouldn't do this."
Leena started and so did Gareas when they entered the training area. The quiet voice was honest and familiar.
"Tune!" Leena said.
At her name, the blue-haired girl turned. She was dressed in a standard nightgown, but wore sweatpants underneath as if to preserve her modesty although the dress fell well below her knees. Tune was clutching at another girl's arm. Repairer 34, a brunette with a strange arrangement of braids on her head, reluctantly snatched her arm away.
"He bugged the hell out of me. If I don't do this, he'll report me as a terrible repairer, and I'll be let go," she scowled defensively more to herself than anyone else.
"Leena-san! Gareas-san!" Tune cried in relief, ignoring the way the girl had slung her arm off. "I was trying to get Sakura-san back to bed. It's past curfew and you know the demerits for breaking it. But she told me her partner is battling. She'll be expelled for sure, if someone finds out." Tune turned back towards the stubborn girl, "Please Sakura-san! Let's go back."
"Let her go Tune. I can't battle 34 if he doesn't have his repairer with him," Gareas said abruptly.
"Gareas-san?" Tune looked bewildered. "But an unsupervised battle is dangerous. I don't want anyone to get hur -"
"34 hurt Ernest," Gareas interrupted.
"W-What?" Tune turned her attention to Leena to confirm the statement. Leena looked away.
"He and his cronies beat him today, the week before that, and the week before that. This battle is about revenge," Gareas said with a sharp-toothed grin.
"B-But," Tune stuttered.
"It's true, Tune. He's been hurt because of them," Leena hugged the small girl.
"But, Ernest-san told me he fell down the stairs!" Tune said with wide eyes. "Why wouldn't he tell me? Even though it's not my place, even though I'm just his repairer..."
The girl was close to tears, and Leena comforted her, "He probably didn't want you to worry. Ernest is stubborn, too, in his own way. Even more than Garu."
"Well, where's your pilot? Should've guessed your partner was a coward," Gareas smirked, glancing at the forgotten Repairer 34, and tearing away his eyes from Tune's tears.
"I'm right here, you punk!" Candidate 34 entered the room bluntly with a group of three boys behind him.
"Couldn't even face me alone, huh? Betcha your knees are shaking so much, you need them to hold you up!" Gareas crowed in pompous tones. His mad smile grew wider. Static electricity shook and wavered in his hair. It was beginning to acquire a strange iridescence.
"Bring it on!" Candidate 34 huffed back with bravado. His own grin wavered a little, then strengthened when the gang at is back repeat his words in a second echo.
"No. You can't do this! We shouldn't fight each other. The only enemy is Victim!" Tune gasped, glancing at Gareas' sparking form, leaving Leena's protective arms, and grabbing Taka's shoulder. Her voice was determined and so were her eyes although she was more than a full head shorter than the boy. "Gareas-san isn't thinking straight right now. But you can."
"Bug off!" Candidate 34 shouted, before shoving Tune harshly to the side. Tune landed on her knees. She stood up and moved to try again. A hand halted her.
"Forget him, Tune. You can't change a bastard like that, or a bastard like me either," Gareas said with a self-depreciating smile. "If there were more gentle people like you and Ernest, the universe would be a better place."
"Gareas-san..."
"Leena. Let's go!" He strode away to the back hanger.
"Leena-san," Tune said latching onto Leena's sleeve. Her voice was oddly hollow and her eyes accusing, "You understand, I know you do. Stop this. Ernest-san wouldn't want Gareas to do this."
Leena could not look into that strong face, because she knew if she did, the strength of Tune's convictions would crush her own.
"I'm sorry. But I have to help Gareas. I just -- he needs me." She left with Team 34 to do a pre-battle check up on her partner's pro-ing. Every step she took, she could feel the sorrow emanating from the eyes that watched her retreating back, and yet, Leena couldn't bear to reveal the possibility of Gareas' lie -- it would destroy them both.
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Success!
Pure relief and joy flooded through Ernest's being when he felt his hand encounter a small feathered body. He couldn't see the bird in the dark, but he hugged the trembling creature close. His hands were sticky, and he was worried. Ernest brushed through the bird's wings, and they fluttered weakly underneath is fingers. The empath wished there was some light. He traced the flesh and bone he could feel under his fingertips, and was surprised when the bird didn't call out in pain. The boy did the best he could to free the dried blood from its body. He stroked over its neck, down the length of its body to its tail feathers. As he worked a small knotted clump of brown from its lower leg something happened to the world. Above, there was a thunderous crash. Ernest looked up, and there was the moon. From the edges of his universe, gloomy rain clouds rolled lazily in. There were long reverberating rumbles like drums of war and then the anticipated rain began to fall. The rain drops came slowly, bits of glass suspended in the air. Halfway down, they suddenly accelerated with lightning speed. The rumbles and lightning grew faster, and dizzying. The rain was cool and thick. The water splashed down on him, on the bird, and on the ground in a way he'd never before experience in the tiled cubicles of GOA showers.
Ernest laughed. The bird in his arms nuzzled into his shirt, but the rain managed to soak them both, until the red was washed from the bird and the scarlet washed from Ernest's knees and arms. From the floor, alien grass elongated up like the tails of shooting stars in their strange whiteness. But there was a moon, and a sky, and grass, and a bird in Ernest's arms. It was as the old books had described. There was just one thing missing. He looked at the colorless blades of grass when the bird suddenly lifted its head. Its once black dewdrop eyes were that particular vibrant hue, and Ernest's world was complete.
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"Ernest-san! Ernest-san!"
There was a furious pounding on his door. Candidate 39 groaned and sat up, rubbing his bleary eyes. He went to open the door and was surprised at the sight that greeted him. The girl breathed heavily, and a weight seemed to rest heavily in her eyes.
"Tune!"
"They're fighting. They didn't understand me. Or didn't want to. Please, we need to go stop them!" Tune's hand reached out to grasp his when it retreated in abashed horror. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking," she said softly.
"It's okay," Ernest said, slowly offering his hand, palm up. Tune hesitated but snagged a sleeve instead.
"I'd feel like I was intruding, Ernest-san. But even without touch, can you still...?"
"Yes. I'm better at it now especially when I concentrate. I understand how you are feeling. Why are you anxious, Tune?"
She pulled him out the door with brisk steps. "Gareas and 34 are fighting."
"Why?"
She led him to the training grounds. Behind the closed doors, they could hear the frantic cries of five people, barely more than children. Tune recalled the buttons Repairer 34 had pushed, and her fingers danced across the keypad in an unerring rhythm.
"34 has wronged you. Gareas-san wishes vengeance," Tune said quietly, brushing her hand against his wrist in a moment of support.
The doors opened.
"This. This is not justice," Ernest croaked. The warmth of Tune's fingers slid away, and his terror was complete. Behind three dumbstruck spectators, two stricken repairers, and a pane of insensible glass, pro-ing 37's arm was locked against his enemy's neck -- its gun was targeted point blank at the pilot's cockpit.
TBC...