The Burning Fire
By: Babs Laumer
Disclaimer: I don't own Amon, Robin, Nagira, Zaizen, or...heck, any of the WHR characters.
Zaizen is probably slightly OOC because I don't like him much. Thank you. If anyone else is OOC, I apologize, I was just having fun, and I wanted to share.
Author's note: This fic is set after the fall of the factory. And, this is my first fic in the Japanese anime world, so any constructive comments are appreciated. I blame my sister and her boyfriend for roping me into this universe. Okay, 'nuf said. :o)
Oh, wait...please review.
Flames will be used to heat my apartment.
Chapter 1:
"Robin, get OUT of here!" Robin turned from the witch she'd burned the shirt of to find Amon had been overrun by Solomon's men. His eyes burned with annoyance when she took a step towards him, intent on saving him anyway.
"GO!" She whirled, unleashing the fire inside of her, when his eyes widened. The witch sneaking up on her managed to shove her into a wall before she glared at him through her half moon glasses, incinerating him. Adrenaline pounding through her veins, she realized what Amon had guessed. They were being boxed in. Witches were appearing everywhere, and Robin couldn't take them all on at once; if the constant hits didn't wear her down, one of them would eventually get a lucky shot in and that would be it. Glancing quickly around, Robin realized two things. First, she saw a potential escape route from the way they came. It would be easy to lose most of them in the Walled City, with all its twists, turns, and numerous hiding places. The second was that Amon was gone.
Robin shut off the familiar stomach wrenching feeling in her gut, setting the littered trash in the alley into a firey blaze. Her legs gained momentum as she tore off down the alley in the opposite direction, setting fire to burnables littering the alley as she went. Hopefully, the fire would not only keep them from getting too close, but would also distract them into following a false trail when she decided to turn off to hide. "Really soon, now", she thought as she leaned into the turn to the right, grabbing hold of the corner of the red brick buillding as she did so to avoid falling over or crashing into the building. Breathing heavily, she glared as far down the alley as she could, setting more trash ablaze.
All she wanted right now was to lean against the wall for support, and banish the smoke so she could actually breathe. Instead, the running began again, but quieter this time. Being around Amon had rubbed off on her, she discovered, when she found herself, as she got further away, slipping behind trash cans and into darkened doorways, trying hard to keep from choking on the lingering smoke in her lungs. The alley, she noted absently, was almost too dark to see in. Luckily, Solomon's tactic to keep Amon and herself from noticing the hunters was backfiring into allowing her to escape.
"Amon..."
She could feel a burning sensation behind her eyes, but she blinked it back. Wait till she had time for feelings.
Finally, she found the spot she wanted. Cautious, now that she was within reach of the hiding place she and Amon had staked out for emergencies, she waited in the dark doorway, eyes seeking out telltale movement.
Normally, she wasn't this paranoid. However, after being hunted....after being worried that her partner was the one hunting her...after him pointing a gun at her...after the factory.....
She had learned circumspection. It was hard when her personality lent itself towards sweetness and thoughtfullness, but she had adapted fairly quickly-it was that or be dead.
Five minutes. It had been quiet for five minutes. Slowly she inched towards the grate in the street on the other side of the alley. After one last piercing glance, she pulled up the grate noiselessly and slipped in.
Light.
That was the first thing Amon noticed when his brain finally rebooted. And his arms hurt, almost like he'd been hanging from them for hours. Considering the position of his head, he decided this was at least not an unreasonable assumption. With difficulty, Amon opened his eyes, blinking rapidly to get his eyes used to the high illumination.
"Oh, so e's awake. Mornin' sunshine."
Amon's head slowly worked against gravity and tracked the sound to the far corner of the rectangular, bare...white....room. He strongly suspected that, especially since his recent memories were a bit fuzzy, he had been drugged. The room had an annoying tendency to sway back and forth, and his mouth had a nasty after taste in it.
Finally his eyes focused on the dark blur at the end of the room. The blur snickered.
"Sure packs a wallop, don't it?" When Amon didn't answer, the blur crossed the room until the man was painfully in focus. The brown eyes mocking Amon twinkled, as with a joke unshared (but implied) and the mouth tried to sneer successfully. Amon almost snorted. Even Sakaki could give this guy lessons. The messy mop of red hair flared wildly around the wide face, although it was still dwarfed by the man's large frame.
Amon's dark eyes remained quiescent, his face betraying none of his current mind set. A hand slick with sweat grabbed Amon's chin, forcing his face upwards for inspection. Amon choked, and tried to hold his breath against the rankness of the other's. The man grinned.
"Whassa matter, pretty boy? Cat got your tongue?" With a quick jerk, Amon brought his right knee as hard as he could up between the other's legs. After the satisfying squeak, Amon kicked out with both of his long legs, sending the guard into the other wall (only five feet away). The guard's head made a sickening crack aganst the wall, then fell forward, face first at Amon's feet.
"I'm not a curiosity."
The man on the floor didn't argue.
Satisfied, Amon stepped on the guard's head to acquire easier access to his trenchcoat's collar. With his teeth, he turned the collar, quickly using his chin to keep it up. Then, carefully, his teeth worked the lockpick from the crease under his collar. It was tricky, especially when trying NOT to get the damn thing stuck or stabbed into his mouth, but he'd practiced to the point that it only happened occasionally. Then it was embarrassing. He'd had to ask for Nagira's help once. That had been enough.
Some careful manoevering and lock picking later, Amon finally pulled off the handcuffs and rubbed down his sore wrists. With any luck, he could make it out of there before Zaizen even noticed.
Frisking the guard turned up a gun, a couple of extra clips for it, a pocket knife, and a pack of smokes. Amon collected the gun, bullets, and pocket knife. Only Nagira would go for the cigarrettes.
It was here that the door opened, revealing a host of hired help...and Zaizen. Damn.
"My, my, aren't you resourceful?" Amon curled a lip disdainfully.
"Don't you wish I was on your side?" Zaizen cocked his head to the side, noting that Amon had positioned himself behind the comatose guard on the floor. Idiot. He opened his mouth, but Amon interrupted him.
"Oh, right. You wouldn't want a witch polluting your sight, would you?" Contempt reeked from every syllable, nearly visible in the room. Zaizen no longer looked amused.
"Amon, let's stop playing. Men..." Zaizen waved a hand. Guys with guns walked confidently forward.
"One more step...and he's history." Most of the horde paused, as Amon held the pilfered gun muzzle deep in the red fuzz of his personal annoyance from earlier.
Amon wasn't sure if this would realistically work...after all, this WAS Zaizen. If nothing else, he'd gain some time to play with till he came up with something else.
"Heh. Amon, I think you've seen too many cop shows. Besides..." Amon saw a figure in the back raise his firearm. Quickly, he ducked behind the guard as a loud boom echoed through the room. Then he popped up long enough to send a bullet towards the shooter in the back, and swiveled to get Zaizen as well.
It would have worked, too, if someone hadn't nicked his upper right arm as he pulled the trigger, sending the bullet off course a bit, putting a hole in Zaizen's sleeve instead. Amon didn't have an opportunity to do much else as he was overrun by the mob Zaizen had brought with him. Amid the blows, Amon heard Zaizen call out, "Keep him in one piece! I want him alive. He's no use to me dead...that comes later." Amon, held by two burly guards, sagged between them, favoring his right side. A trail of blood flowed from his mouth to his chin, but he didn't seem to notice.
"Why wait?"
"Because I want Robin dead first. And the only way to get to HER...is through you."
"You're wrong." Zaizen snorted loudly.
"I've seen the way she looks at you, even if you don't. Do you expect me to believe you have no feelings for that WITCH?! That she has no feelings for you? After you went out of your way to save her from being hunted? After she tried to incinerate me after I shot you? You're blind. So blind it's amusing." Amon's mouth twisted upward into his version of a smirk.
"It's better than setting up your own daughter as bait to hunt a kind person, who never abused her powers, only to get your daughter shot. You're as heartless as you claim witches are. Admit it Zaizen, you and some witches have something in common—you both love to have power over others...and the power to destroy." Zaizen's eye twitched murderously before punching Amon hard in the ribs. Amon doubled over as far as he could with both his arms pinioned. With luck, he'll either kill me, or I'll get to tell the truth I've been dying to throw in his face for months. I win either way. If I die, he can't use me against Robin. If I live, I'll be hurting, but every murderous look on Zaizen's face will be worth it.
"HOW DARE YOU? It's YOUR fault she was shot! If you'd just followed the plan... I'm NOTHING like you evil, satanic witches! NOTHING!" Amon did feel badly about what happened to Touko, but he hadn't told anyone to tie her up in her apartment with morons shooting at Robin on the other side. Zaizen should really be angry with Solomon.
"Shouting isn't going to make you any more believable. You had this guy killed," Amon indicated with his chin, "just for the convienience of it. You're WORSE than the witches...because no one will stop you from carrying on your selfish, cruel, heartless crusade."
"SHUT UP!"
"Why, Zaizen? The truth too painful?"
"I can't wait for you to die..."
"What's stopping you?"
"You don't understand, Amon. Robin has proved herself too difficult to find...unless in defense of her friends...but perhaps you're more than that? No? I don't trust your answer anyway. So...after I get her through you," Zaizen's voice dropped below zero, "I'll use you both as guinea pigs for the new batch of orbo my chief scientist has concocted. I imagine it'll be a slow death Amon, but well worth watching, after everything you've put me through."
"You don't see Touko much anymore, do you?"
"That's none of your business."
"Have you killed her yet?" It was a low blow, and probably would never happen, he knew, but it would push Zaizen over the edge.
"You're pushing it. Or is that on purpose? Hoping I kill you so I won't be able to smoke out Robin? So you'll be a martyr? Really, Amon, I didn't think you had it in you."
"You're afraid of her."
"Not particularly."
"Afraid or obsessed. Probably a combination of both, with the fear in the forefront."
"Amon...imagine (hypothetically) that I killed you right now (not that it's not terribly tempting, you understand)...then I not only have no bargaining chip, but...once she found us (and I've no doubt she will eventually) burning the place would be so easy without anyone she cared about in there."
He doesn't understand Robin at all. She wouldn't do that. Even if I was dead.
"Assuming she DOES care for me, not that she does," Especially when I offered to kill her if she gets out of line, "you're just showing how much more human Robin is than you." Success. Zaizen has snapped.
"That's it! Chunji?"
"Sir?"
"I think you can administer it now."
"What?" What does he mean by that?
"Don't worry, Amon. Just think of it as catching up on the sleep you've missed when with Robin."
He's clueless. NOTHING has happened. Not that it matters right now... Damn. The situation's gone south.
Amon struggled violently despite the feeling that his arms would come out of their sockets soon, and that his ribs felt like a 200 pound lead weight was residing there. The doctor...at least, he almost HOPED he was one (the guy was in a lab coat), was getting closer with the hypodermic. Amon felt a bullet pierce his thigh when he tried to kick the needle out of Chunji's hand.
"I need access to his arm..."
Amon's trenchcoat was half pulled off and his sleeve torn before he had time to control the pain emanating from his leg. He wouldn't beg, he wouldn't... For the second time in his life, Amon was terrified...terrified he couldn't help Robin...that he wasn't in control of the situation...that....that...
The needle bit into his upper arm, and he felt his limbs turn into lead weights. His vision was spiraling out of control, swirling from a miasma of color to a dark black. He hadn't even a chance to feel his legs give out.