Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon, you silly rabbit.
AN: Thanks so much for all the reviews. As you'll see in this chapter, we will see much of what happened in season one in flashbacks. Also, to the concerned reader who asked, the reason why it was sunny at night in chapter seven was because TK's in Alaska and it's summer, which means the sun only sets for a very, very short time. Also, I haven't said this before, but on the subject of Alaska, I made up the town (St. Joseph's) and convent to suit my purposes, but all facts about Alaska are as true as research can make them. Also, the Inuit is correct as well, although I may have made some errors in usage, for which I apologize. The reason he's at a convent, other than convenient symbolism, is that I attend a Catholic college with two convents on campus, and I feel you should always try to write what you know. This fic, however, is not specifically Christian in nature, although it does have those overtones. The reason the Digimon were already in rookie form when the destined arrived, way back in chapters five and six, is because I felt if Patamon had been MagnaAngemon already, than the other deserved an upgrade too. It was only fair, right?
Please keep up the reviews, they are immensely helpful and informative. As you can see, questions are accepted and encouraged!
You have your work, and nothing more,
You are possessed, what is your demon?
You've never been this way before,
You've lost the fire you built your dream on.
There's something strange, there's something wrong,
I see a change
It's like when love dies…
I who have known you for so long,
I see the pain in your eyes…
"His Work and Nothing More"
Jekyll &Hyde
The soft notes of the harmonica floated into the apartment through the wide-open balcony doors, carried in the by the warm evening breeze. The sounds of the city were muted by the haze of the evening after the oppressive heat of the summer day. The waves of heat that had been rising off the blacktop had given way to a gentle lilac dusk, the lower sky streaked with electric orange, scarlet, and illuminated blue, silhouetting the tall buildings of Tokyo's high rise districts. Above Yamato the sky was tinted violet and navy, and dotted with cool silver stars and a pale moon made slightly fuzzy by the hazy warmth of the atmosphere.
Below him, people were taking advantage of the beautiful night, walking in families and pairs, heading towards parks and restaurants, their mingled voices and laughter barely reaching him over the ever-present hum of the city. In the distance, a siren wailed, and somewhere nearby, someone was playing a violin, probably in the park, which flourished in its natural verdant glory directly across the street from Yamato's apartment.
A note strangled flatly as Matt's eyes glanced over the Odaiba Park, pausing ever-so-briefly on the playground before darting away. Matt steadied himself and picked up the tune again, laying the groundwork of his new song on his harmonica before switching to his guitar. The guitar was propped in the chair next to him, abandoned earlier that evening in favor of the faithful silver instrument the meant so much to Matt. The soft melody floated down to the street below, where some paused in their walking to listen to the lonely sound, before moving on with friends and loved ones.
Behind Matt, another audience sat silently, listening to the melancholy sounds of his partner. To say that Gabumon was worried about his partner was a vast understatement, but like so many problems of the heart, this one had been subtle and unnoticeable until it was too late to stop the snowballing of the blonde's depression. Sitting in the cool darkness of the air-conditioned apartment, the digimon sat and pondered how to bring Matt's out of this bleak hole that seemed to have encompassed him. It was almost like that time in the cave, when Matt had been held by that shadow… but the Crest of Hope had saved them then, not by activating but by reminding the boy of what he had to gain by fighting on. Gabumon had only had to mention the Crest then to make the trick work, but now…
The canine digimon glanced towards Matt's bedroom, where he knew two Crests were sitting dormant and gathering dust, as they had for far too long.
Two years ago…
Matt had stormed through the apartment door, slamming it so hard the hardwood floor beneath Gabumon's paws had trembled. The digimon gulped slightly at the look on his partner's face, which was darker than he had ever seen it, even when they had been fighting the Dark Masters. It had been two months since the Digimon Emperor had begun his rampage across the picturesque face of the Digital world they had all fought so long and hard to save, and the inability of the older children to help was wearing hard on them all. However, this kind of anger was way over the top, even for that. The teenager looked angry in a way Gabumon had only seen once before, on Spiral Mountain. But there had been good reason, then…
Shaking himself from those dark thoughts that did Matt no good, Gabumon followed his partner's stomped and stormy path into his bedroom, where he had to duck when two small metal objects slammed into the wall beside his head. The digimon's eyes grew as wide as saucers when he turned his head to see what had been thrown.
The Crests of Hope and Friendship, their chains hopelessly tangled, had made a fairly respectable dent in the drywall before landing, darkened and dormant, on the immaculately kept floor.
In the immortal words of Tai when he had seen Apocalymon, this was a real 'oh, shit!' moment. As in, the only thing Gabumon seemed to be able to think at the moment was "OH SHIT!!"
He picked the Crests up, attempting to untangle the chains, but giving up after realizing quickly that his furry fingers were not optimally designed for the task. He gave a mighty jump, landing on the bed next to Matt, who was sitting on the bed staring at his feet as though they held all the wisdom of the ages. He watched his partner for a long moment, wishing they had more heart to heart talks, so he wouldn't be so helpless when Matt so obviously needed him. Deciding on the innocently cheerful act he had cultivated after hearing many tales of Matt's long missing younger brother, he smiled in as sunny a manner he could without his fangs crossing the line into menacing. It was a difficult balance to maintain, but long practice had made the digimon into an expert at counterfeiting nauseatingly hopeful, helpful expressions.
"Is something the matter, Matt?"
Silence.
Gabumon blinked, Matt had never outright ignored him before. Something was seriously wrong here.
"Matt… Matt? We need to talk, Matt! Are you sick?"
As if in reply, the doorbell rang. Matt groaned, flopping down on his bed and rolling over to face the wall. Gabumon stared at him in shock as the bell rang again, whomever was out there leaning on it this time.
"Ummm… I'll get it, then."
With a final glance at his best friend, who was curled into a fetal position on the dark blue coverlet, Gabumon padded out through the apartment, stopping just before the door, and pushing a chair to it so he could see out the high peep-hole as he had seen Matt do many times. He blinked slightly until the curved and magnified world in the tiny hole came into focus.
On the other side of the door stood Sora and Tai, handfast.
In that moment, everything became clear to Gabumon. He had never really understood what went on between the human teenagers he knew, but he understood what Matt had wanted for as long as he had known him, and he understood what he now saw through the tiny hole in a door.
Jumping off the chair, Gabumon went straight back to Matt's room, knowing now what he needed to do. Picking up the Crests from their place on the coverlet, he opened a drawer only he and Matt ever opened, which was empty except for a few objects. Gabumon set the dim objects beside a battered silver harmonica.
Shutting the drawer quietly, he jumped back up on the bed, climbing carefully over his partner and insinuating himself into the tightly curled arms. After a moment, Matt responded, clutching the soft digimon like a teddy bear and letting the tears fall silently, allowing the one person he had left in the world who really understood him to share his pain for a little while, at least.
The two remained prone in a circle of misery and sympathy as the doorbell continued to ring, almost desperately, into the silent apartment.
But that had been two years ago, and Gabumon wasn't sure what comfort he could now offer the boy, now a young man, really, who had suffered beyond what a hug could heal. So he sat and watched the boy as the darkness of night fell around them both and the sounds of the harmonica became more and more lonely.
Soon Matt would be off to college, he knew, someplace he couldn't go, at the end of the summer, and Gabumon felt the pressure of time, knowing that for better or worse, something had to change before this already sweltering season ended.
Hope and despair ignore one another's cries.
Hope likes justification, but can do without.
Mason Cooley
Gennai had said no, again.
Patamon had asked him a favor once before, asked permission really, and then, like now, he had been refused.
Then, like now, he hadn't listened to the elder's admonishments.
On Gennai's advice, he had waited. For a full decade, he had waited. The Crest will work this out, Gennai said. Wait for the Crest to finish its work. Trust me, he said.
Not anymore. Patamon was finished waiting. His Chosen was in pain again, it was very clear this time, as though somehow TK had reopened some sort of link between them.
He had the Digivice, a D3, now, he supposed. Hope and Light had D3's, they were the Crests chosen to move forward into the second group of children. Somehow TK had found it, and the spiritual space between the partners had shrunk dramatically. His spirit was close, and he was ready.
Wait for a sign, Gennai said.
This was his sign. The tiny digimon was fed up, his spirit brimming with frustration and disillusionment. Like any Light digimon, especially as an Angel type, Patamon had instinctively respected Gennai, instinctively trusted and sought out his wisdom.
But it didn't seem like wisdom anymore. If their bond had suddenly strengthened anew, then so too had Patamon's sense of urgency. He had waited, the last time, until he was so sure that TK was dying that he could no longer help himself to withstand the summons. He had almost been too late, and though he had saved the boy, he knew the he had failed him.
He had to failed to protect his Chosen Child, there was no greater shame for a digimon, for an Angel digimon to whom protection was an instinct as old as time itself. He had failed TK because he had listened to Gennai and waited for a sign. When the sign had finally come, it had been one of disaster.
Patamon refused to make that mistake again.
Which meant, unfortunately, that all instinct and precedent must be set aside. Gennai was wrong; his advice could mean TK's life. Patamon could not gamble again with his Chosen's life. It was time set out on his own, to go into the human world and to find TK himself.
And so he found himself flying with desperate speed through the darkened forest of the digital world, racing time and the dawn towards the one Digimon he knew could open a gate between the worlds without Gennai detecting it. He had to get there while it was still night, while he was sure the digimon would be alone. The trees loomed in the darkness around him, growing gnarled and fearsome as he entered a dark spire area, but Patamon ignored their gloomy menace. He urged himself still faster, knowing he could not afford to stop and fight any possessed digimon, that time was slipping past him even as the stars overhead, in streaks of silver in the darkness. Trees and leaves and stars and clouds blurred together into and endless chain, as his thoughts reduced to a faint sense of pain and fear from TK and his own feelings of exhaustion and desperation. Faster, faster, I can't collapse now, faster, a little further, faster, faster, please!
Suddenly, the forest seemed to break open around him, and in a sudden change of terrain characteristic of the digital world, endless white dunes spread out beneath him, and floating just above the sea of sand, more menacing then ever in the dark, was his goal.
The flying fortress of the Digimon Emperor.
As Patamon had hoped, security was so minimal as to be non-existent in a dark spire area, and the flying digimon had no problem gaining access to the darkened corridors of the ship's interior. He flew swiftly towards what he prayed was the center and the control room, not allowing himself to pause long enough to reconsider. Then just as suddenly as the forest earlier, the corridors opened up into a large room with a tremendous bank of screens along one long wall, a computer console, and a single chair. The very heart of the dark Empire, but for some reason it didn't feel Evil as Spiral Mountain had to the Vaccine Digimon, it just felt cold, like fear and loss.
And, curled up in a pale green ball on the single chair, was the very digimon Patamon had hoped to find, the digimon he had been watching secretly for a while now. The reluctant lackey, the only digimon on the Dark army that wore no dark spiral, no dark ring, Wormon.
Sensing his presence, the insect digimon jerked awake, his eyes finding Patamon quickly in the dim light of the room. Patamon held his breath, ready to dodge if he had to, praying Wormon would hear him out, and beginning to feel like this had been a bad idea.
However, the other digimon merely uncurled himself, eyeing Patamon speculatively. Finally, he spoke, his tone one of confusion and suspicion, but not of anger.
"What are you doing here?"
Patamon hesitated a moment, deciding to take the question at face value. "I—I'm Patamon—"
"I know who you are. You're the Protector of the Child of Hope, the lost Chosen. You defeated Devimon. I know who you are. So why are you here, in the heart of evil?"
Patamon smirked slightly at the description of him, wondering exactly how fast and far rumors spread in the Digital World. "There's no evil here. I've watched you, and we both know the Emperor is many things, but Evil, truly Evil, isn't one of them. I need your help. I think we can help each other." Patamon threw in most of the speech he had been rehearsing to himself, hoping he hadn't sounded too rushed.
Wormon arched an eyebrow at him, torn between loyalty to Ken and the knowledge that he ought to have attacked this intruder, and a sense that Patamon was right, and they could indeed help each other. Taking a cue from his partner, he decided to play it cool.
"I'm listening," he said, his voice, usually so pleading around Ken, now smoothly revealing nothing.
"I need to get to the human world, I need you to open a gate for me. I want to go find TK—the Child of Hope."
Patamon fell silent, laying everything on the line, waiting for the insect to respond. He didn't have to wait long.
"Why aren't you asking Gennai to do this? Or one of your friends' partners?" Wormon paused a moment, then wisely answered his own question. "You don't want Gennai to know."
Patamon met his eyes squarely, saying nothing. Wormon thought for a long moment before continuing. "How do you think this will be helping me?"
Patamon's reply was swift and convincing. "If I can find TK, this could all end. I promise you I'll protect Ken when we eventually defeat him. I'm sure we could heal him, but at this point, the Destined will kill him as soon as they get the chance. You know they will. TK is your only chance of Ken surviving this war." Patamon flew closer, pinning Wormon in place with his desperate gaze. "This is the only way to save both our partners. This is what's best for Ken."
Wormon's eyes widened at the use of Ken's name. Patamon nodded seriously, not breaking his gaze. "I've been paying attention for a long time. I've been waiting for a long time, just as you have. It's time, Wormon. Help me finish this."
Wormon held the stare, thinking for a long moment about what would happen if Ken found out that he was working behind his back. However, Patamon was right, this was best for Ken. Deciding suddenly, he hopped from the chair to the console, beginning the difficult process of working the keyboard with his tiny appendages. He spoke as he worked.
"There's a program that Ken designed that allows me to go through the portals with out his digivice, into his bedroom. He—he does such kind things, sometimes. I—you'll go through into his room, but he'll have already gotten up and gone to morning soccer practice by now. He likes to practice a little before the rest of the team arrives. You can probably get out the window, it should be open, but the shade will be down, because Ken likes it dark."
Patamon was silent as Wormon instructed him, feeling slightly jealous of the familiarity between Ken and Wormon, even if the bond was somewhat warped. He had never gotten to know TK that well, but he had never felt so cheated about it until now. The gate opened, and through it Patamon could see a darkened room.
Wormon paused before activating the transfer. "You realize you won't be able to come back this way. Ken would kill you if he caught you."
Patamon nodded with determination, giving his unlikely ally a grim smile. "Either I'm coming back with TK, or I'm not coming back."
It was not a boast, or a fearful admission, but merely a statement of fact. Wormon nodded with respect, recognizing that Patamon had crossed a line within himself and had reached a place where there was success or nothing at all. For the courageous little digimon, failure equaled death.
And with him through the portal he would take the last hope of the digital world, to attempt to bring back a hope that should never have been lost.
Pressing the buttons, Wormon watched Patamon dissolve into data and disappear into the gate.
"Good luck." He whispered, as the light slowly faded, leaving him in the darkness with his feeble hopes.
Somehow I have to get to the place where my journey started,
Find the course I charted, when I first departed.
Somehow I have to hang on to the vision that first inspired me,
To the hope that fired me when the world admired me!
I'll find a way back to the higher ground and see the view I knew before,
I'll search the world until the answer's found and then success will pound
Upon my door!
Somehow I've got to rebuild all the dreams that winds have scattered,
From what fate has shattered, I'll retrieve what mattered!
Somehow I've got to go on till the evil has been defeated,
Till my work's completed, I will not be cheated.
God, You must help me carry on when it seems all hope is gone…
"No One Must Ever Know"
Jekyll & Hyde
After about fifteen minutes of attempting to figure out how to raise the blinds, which were a bit of a foreign concept to Patamon, he finally got them raised enough to stick his head cautiously out the window…
And come face to face with more humans than he ever could have imagined existed. Settling onto the sill, he groaned, his ears drooping. People of every shape, size, and description were hurrying to and fro beneath the window, hundreds and hundreds of them. His eyes darted from face to face, but he realized with despair that he wasn't even sure what he was looking for. He knew from experience watching the other Chosen that humans changed a lot over time, especially children. And he hadn't seen TK in twelve years.
He was never going to find him in this world of so many people, and now he was stranded in this world, without any knowledge of how it worked or who could help him.
Watching the people for a long moment, he sighed to himself. "I am an idiot."
With that depreciating thought, he set off into the world, sticking to the shadows as he searched for a face he knew. Though it was early, the streets were packed with commuters, and the streets were roaring with traffic. The sights and noises were overwhelming to the little digimon as he darted in and out of the early sunlight, looking up at the clear, fresh morning sky that was the only thing he could see that bore even a passing resemblance to the Digital World.
His stomach made a fierce noise as he passed a place that smelled like food, and then, like a miracle, he turned a corner and saw something familiar.
Trees, many, many trees, gathered behind a wire fence. A park, he realized, remembering what he had heard the other Digimon say about the human world. It would be a good place to hide, at least, until he could come up with a better plan. He really needed to come up with a better plan.
An hour later, he had settled in a tree of his liking, where he could see the people but they couldn't see him, but unfortunately, a better plan had not yet arrived. He hadn't given up hope though, because teenagers in outfits he recognized had begun to pass under his tree. Uniforms, he remembered. TK's brother wore one just like them.
Suddenly, like the answer to his prayers, another girl in uniform passed beneath his tree. It was Kamiya Hikari, the Child of Light, and unless he was misinterpreting the movement in her backpack, Gatomon was there was well.
Perfect!!
AN: You know what else is perfect? Writing a review!!