Well sports fans, here's the next part of the story. Let's review. Raven is a zombie (haha), asleep in the middle of a destroyed Republican base, and Shadow is playing watchdog. Of course, we haven't heard from everyone's favorite wonder-man Van yet. Never fear, I'm not leaving him out. And I'd like to make it clear that I am NOT planning for romance of any sort. So anyone who was expecting Raven to fall crying into someone's arms at any point in the future should just get a refund and go to another fantasy. Otherwise, I hope you like!
I don't own Zoids, or anything related to them. Raven owns my socks, of course, and I'm willing to let him keep them. But I don't own his socks, sadly.
And the title of this chapter, "A Hole In The Dream", comes from the 14th track on the End Of Evangelion soundtrack. I don't imply that I own it, only that it seemed fitting.
--------------------------
I'll Pity You When You're Gone
--------------------------
Two: A Hole In The Dream
--------------------------
It was immeasurably dark, the kind of dark that only comes with no hint of light to be found. The kind of dark that death brings. It wasn't peaceful, or malevolent. It just was. There was nothing here to make sense of, or think about, or be torn apart by. Only darkness. Slowly though, the aspects of the darkness changed. It was no longer still, and definitely had a feeling about it now.
Raven felt himself open his eyes, but there was no difference between being asleep and awake. It was still dark. There was a slight sensation of movement: smooth and calculated. Something in the depths of his mind clicked, and he reacted by testing his arms.
As he had expected, they were loosely bound in cords and wires.
He let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. He let the stray worried thoughts drift into the fog again; he'd been here before. There was nothing to think about.
With a slight struggle he'd pulled his left arm free. Lifting it forwards, he thumped weakly on the cool metal plate he knew would be in front of him. He held his arm there for a few moments, resting against the smooth chest plate. Then there was a thrumming noise that seemed to come from all around him. He slumped back then; Shadow knew he was awake. Some nights he was ejected immediately. But other nights, like tonight, the organoid didn't let him out for a while. Raven didn't consider why this was. He didn't need to know anyway.
Drifting in and out of consciousness, it may have been three hours or ten minutes later that the slow rocking movement of Shadow's running gait began to change. Opening his eyes again, Raven felt the organoid stop completely. There was a hissing sound, and cracks of dim light split open in front of him. The cords holding him back whipped around and away, leaving him to stumble out onto the rocky ground. He was terribly cramped from sleeping in such a small space for so long, and his hand was aching again.
They seemed to be in a canyon of sorts. Rock walls towered up above their heads, with a sparkling road of stars above them. It was a good choice, his instincts told him; there were only so many places an enemy could come from down here. But that didn't matter much.
Raven tilted his head back to look at the stars. They weren't as clear as they used to be. It was as though someone had brushed water over an inking, and made the colours run slightly. The hard points of light were softer now.
He didn't know how long he stood there, just gazing at the heavens. He had no answers for himself. He only knew that by day he traveled, and at night he would look at the stars. The only solid points in his empty forgotten life, along with Shadow.
The sub-conscious interrupted the peace then with an insistence for sleep. Indeed, he was still exhausted. Raven couldn't remember sleeping, but he must have, to have been in the army base at one point and found himself inside Shadow at another. Shifting his gaze downwards, his darkened eyes followed the rock wall along to a blackness. A cave. He stared at it a while longer before heading inside.
He heard Shadow follow behind him.
Raven didn't even notice what was inside the hole that passed for a cave. The tiredness was hitting him all at once, and he couldn't possibly stand much longer. Dropping to his knees, he went forward on all fours until he found the freezing rough stone at the other side. Then he fell to the side, and was instantly asleep, letting the fog consume him.
~*~
The morning sunlight brought no joy for Van. It only illuminated a horrifying scene.
Hardly recognizable was the army base, now only charred and broken ruins upon the dirt. Twisted pieces of metal shone dully through the concrete and dust, along with gun barrels and empty shells. The smell of old fire permeated the air. As Van watched, a wall that had survived the destruction cracked and fell to the ground in hundreds of pieces. A depressing sight.
"Wow. . . what a mess," he sighed, kicking a stone with his boot. "Whoever did this wanted to make sure they did a thorough job. There's nothing left." He turned to face Fiona with his last statement, but she wasn't looking at him. The Ancient Zoidian was surveying the army site with a closed expression.
That worried Van. The only times she looked like that was when she was deeply troubled by something. He'd learnt to trust her instincts over the time they'd known each other. What would be a wild hunch or guess with other people was often a premonition with Fiona.
Zeke crunched along behind them, a reassuring presence in this wasted place. Van always felt safer when he was with the two of them. It was irrational really; he was more vulnerable when they were beside him. Enemies often tried to use them against him. Like Reese had done. The false ideas she'd planted in his head still gave him cold chills.
And nightmares.
Van's musings were broken by the sound of shifting rubble and a low groan. Startled, he exchanged a look with Fiona then ran forward into the base. Coming around a corner, he spotted a blonde-haired soldier struggling under a pile of broken cement. He looked half-dead.
"Zeke!" Van called out, coming to a stop next to the man. Dropping down to his knees he tried to budge the top-most slab, to no avail. He'd known he couldn't lift it, but he'd wanted to give it a shot. Now he positioned his hands under the piece below it. If the organoid lifted the top stone, this one could slide down further onto the poor man, and he didn't want that.
Zeke trotted over, and immediately knew what Van wished of him. Pushing his steel snout beneath the offending stone, he growled and heaved the slab over to the side, and not without difficulty. Van slid the other stone carefully to the side as Fiona's red boots appeared beside him. He could free the man now.
As gently as he could he pulled the soldier free from the last stone and rubble. He was badly hurt; both his legs were twisted at painful angles and lacerations made a bloody crisscross of his torso. "You're gonna be OK," Van told him in what he hoped was a calming voice. "We'll get you to a hospital as soon as we can. Just hang in there." He wasn't sure whether the man had even heard him; he seemed so lost to the pain. He was about to ask Fiona to help him get the soldier to the Liger when he spoke in a halting voice.
"This. . . this was done by. . . a black organoid."
Van felt as though someone had belted him across the face. His body went rigid, though he only noticed in a vague manner.
This shattered everything he'd brought himself to believe these past few years. If he'd been wrong about this one thing, he could be wrong about a thousand other details that could throw him and those he cared about into trauma and battle. He had seen the Geno Saurer burst into flames, at his own hands. He had heard the screams of rage, and at the last second terror and pain, the last second he tried so hard to forget. But. . .
Desperate, he tilted his head back to look at Fiona. "Could it be . . . that he's back?"
But he found no comfort in her maroon eyes. She faintly shook her head, pale sunlight hair wavering back and forth. Disbelief, dismay, but not surprise.
He knew what she'd been thinking then, since setting foot on the army base.
~*~
Daylight was seeping in through the mouth of the cave. Raven could feel it burning on his eyelids. Cracking his eyes open, he shifted so that the glare was below his line of site.
The edges of the hard rock were bleached pale in the light, and already the outside world was shimmering in heat. But the wall he leaned against was still mercifully cool. Shutting his eyes once more, he just allowed the sun to come to him. There was nothing around to prompt him into action yet. So all he did was breathe, air swelling into his chest like the tide, then leaving him again like so many other things had done. Like his soul had done.
Raven never even heard Shadow approach and wasn't aware of his presence until a hard snout nudged his shoulder. He didn't look up, only shifted to pull himself up. Using his left hand to grip the wall, he spared his other hand most of the pain by pushing against his knee. Such slowness in other people would be considered lazy or insolent, but the only thing that motivated Raven was the fact that this was what was. This was what started the day, every day, and it required no thoughts about how it would look, and how to go about doing it.
Straightening up he felt slightly dizzy. Most likely it stemmed from the empty feeling in his stomach. Water and carrots weren't the best diet. It was all he had though, for he didn't deviate to go hunting for food. Such pursuits were irrelevant, and didn't occur to him except in the direst of situations. He went to the entrance of the cave and blinked. The desert sun was harsh, even at this early hour.
The dark organoid slid up beside him once more, his silent presence strangely fitting the spiked creature. They would separate once out of the canyon. Shadow never came close to Raven unless they happened upon a base. But he still followed the same path, looking to him for direction.
Feeling oddly numb, Raven set out into the natural walled street. Even rudimentary feeling escaped him today.
~*~
The base was a hive of activity, more so than was usual for a place of this size. Word had gotten around that something was afoot, which started wild rumors amongst the soldiers. Indeed, Van often thought that run-of-the-mill army personnel could challenge any wives' club in their ability to gossip.
Not that they gossiped about related subjects.
He just started reading the bulletin board when an excited growl came from Zeke's direction. Glancing up, Van saw that the gates of the base were grating downwards, to admit a Zoid. A few moments more revealed that the Zoid was the one he'd been waiting to see.
Tapping Fiona on the shoulder, they both made their way across the wide Zoid launching area towards the gates, with Zeke trailing along behind them. They stopped a few metres from the green and grey plated Di Bison.
The orange tinted cockpit popped up and Thomas dropped to the ground in front of them shortly after. Straightening up once more, the Imperial tilted his head down slightly to look at Van. It was a pet peeve of Van's that Thomas was taller than he was. In fact, he didn't like anyone being taller than him. It made him feel more like a kid than he really was.
Plus he had the sneaking suspicion that Thomas distinctly enjoyed looking down on him.
He didn't look so happy at the moment though; there was a mixed look of curiosity and importance on the man's pale face. Van decided to break the ice.
"Hey Thomas, thanks for coming. We're glad you're here." Immediately Thomas got that air of superiority around him that had annoyed Van at first, but had come to accept as part of his character.
"I must admit I was a little surprised that you called on me. But I'm very pleased that you did. So are you going to give me the low down on the situation?" The last sentence came with a pointed look from his vivid green eyes.
"It looks like our military facilities are being specifically targeted for attack one by one." The young Shubaltz suddenly looked as grave as Van felt. "If you can believe it, it's one Zoid. First, whoever it is –"
"He destroys everything. I know about it," Thomas interrupted, with the tone of someone realizing his guess had been right, and hadn't wanted it to be. "He doesn't leave the base until everything inside it has been blown to smithereens. It's a terrible business."
There was an uneasy silence between the three companions.
"Then I guess you must know about the black organoid," Fiona ventured. Thomas, however, looked surprised.
"Huh? You're kidding me, right?" Whatever he saw on their faces darkened his expression. "You're not. It's true? That means . . . he must be back."
"It's certainly starting to look that way," Van sighed, rubbing his temples with his fingers. He heard Zeke shift uncomfortably in the background. These kind of confrontations must give off a bad vibe or something.
"Let's go inside. It's no good discussing this kind of thing out here, and I for one could use a cup of coffee," Fiona bravely put in. She'd picked up on the strain as well. Van smiled thankfully at her.
Thomas looked slightly thrilled. "Of course Miss Fiona. I'll go get the salt, shall I?"
~*~
"So although it seems incredible, all signs are that he's returned," Van stated, stirring his half-drank tea absently.
"But I thought you defeated him in battle a long time ago," questioned Thomas. Of course, Van thought, everyone thought that. No one had questioned him, just accepted his word.
"I did destroy his Geno Saurer," he muttered. "I just assumed that he'd have been destroyed too." Thomas gave him a degrading look, then turned his attention back to his cup.
"You should never assume anything." This burned Van. Thomas was always out to find the slightest flaw in what he did. He was only fourteen at the time, couldn't he give him a little slack?
"I know, but what's done is done." Thomas seemed to get the point then, for he remained patiently quiet. Relieved, Van reached for his bag and dug around, pulling out a map. Unfolding it, he laid it on the cracked laminated table in front of him. "There's a straightforward pattern to this series of attacks. He's been slowly moving east and targeting military facilities along the way." He traced his finger along the red dots, accentuating his point. "If he follows that pattern his next target will be this base, which is why we've been called in to help them out here. So that's the situation. You wanna come on board?"
When Thomas' answer was a few moments coming he glanced up. The slanting sunlight from the window gave his face a sharper look, and his tawny-gold hair seemed to spark.
"The hero can't do it on his own?"
Resisting the urge to whack the Guardian in the head for good measure, Van fumed silently and looked out the window. That man didn't know when to quit, or just couldn't stop himself. He watched a group of soldiers on the ground below surveying a damaged Darkhorn. It seemed to have a problem with its front right leg, judging by the way the Zoid lilted to the side. A few seconds later and the soldiers seemed to figure that out as well. Sighing, he turned his attention back to the matters at hand.
"This isn't about me, so cut the wisecracks. Will you do it or not? Remember this is Raven we're dealing with," Van said, forcing himself to say the hated name. He hadn't said that name in years. He hadn't wanted to, ever again. With his gaze fixed on his tea, Van never noticed Thomas' expression soften slightly.
"Well... OK then. I'll do it. I've always wondered if Raven could live up to his reputation. An interesting challenge."
"Just be careful Thomas," Fiona murmured. The Imperial lieutenant looked up in surprise and Van saw him flush before he turned away again.
"I appreciate your concern Miss Fiona, but I'll be fine."
"Well it's just ... dont' underestimate him." The heaviness in her tone brought Van back to reality. It was all well and good to get embarrassed over other people's feelings but now was not the time. He glanced back at Thomas, who was stirring his cup with an air of gloom, and expectation. I hope it wasn't a mistake bringing him into this mission, he thought morosely.
"So what's the plan, Van?" Thomas asked brightly, obviously trying to clear the air of hostility. Van was thankful. He knew Thomas didn't really think ill of him. He was probably just suffering the younger brother syndrome again. He grinned at the other Guardian.
"First of all we finish our tea, then we think of a plan."
~*~
Looking out at the plains of the desert, Fiona tried to take it all in. It seemed like such a harsh place, she couldn't imagine anyone crossing it on foot. Yet, that must be what he was doing, to elude the radar. . .
How was she supposed to handle this? People were not supposed to come back from the dead to haunt you. She felt the old fear creeping into her heart once more. She hoped like she had never done that there had been a mistake, that it was some other organoid, or none at all. She even found herself hoping that he'd be dead. She'd never hoped that before.
And she didn't know if she liked the thought.
She was trailing her gaze along the Iron Kongs stationed outside the base when she heard footsteps behind her. Fiona didn't turn around though: she knew that walk better than she knew herself.
"Hey Fiona, I was looking for you," Van said quietly, coming up beside her in the watchtower. "You seemed a bit quiet. I wanted to check on you." She smiled absently. Van was always worried about her. He cared so much about others, she sometimes wondered if there was enough room left in his heart for himself.
"Yeah, I'm OK. I was just thinking."
"About what?" Fiona knew perfectly well that question was just a courtesy. There was only one thing that could possibly be on her mind, and Van knew it.
"About the black organoid. Do you really think that means Raven's back?"
Van looked at her for a long time, his face closed off and unreadable. She knew this meant a great deal to him. In truth, she was more worried for Van than about Raven. She knew things that other people didn't. She wanted to know what Van thought. Finally, he shut his eyes and said "Could be. . . but there's no need to worry. You know I'll be there for you."
She forced a smile. "Yes." As you always are, Van. But what about you?
Suddenly, violently bright flares shot up into the sky, and the alarms around the base began to blare. Fiona, startled, looked around frantically for the cause of the alert. And then she saw a plume of dirt and dust rising from the west.
He was coming.
She barely had time to see the Iron Kongs begin firing at the distant Zoid, a Redler flying too close to the ground, before both she and Van were hurtling down the stairs of the watchtower.
Van reached the end of the stairs before her, and was running full pelt towards the nearby Blade Liger. She tried her best to keep up but in the end he got there before her. Leaping into the cockpit he shouted at her to stay where she was.
"No Van! I'm coming with you!" she yelled back, and before he could object she'd hauled herself up the Liger's leg and was inside the cockpit with him. The orange hatch snapped shut with a hiss as she sat down in the rear seat. Van was looking at her with something resembling exasperation, and possibly nervousness. Then he turned back to the fray.
"Alright then. . . Zeke!"
The familiar howl of the silver organoid echoed his call, and a hot beam of light shot into the Liger's core. With a roar, they set off towards the western gates. They barreled past the Di Bison, which was just beginning to activate, heading for the sharp bursts of gunfire blazing up above the compound walls.
Van hauled back on the controls, and the Blade Liger skidded to a halt before it crashed into the gates. Thomas came charging up behind them, just as the rogue Redler appeared over the walls and flew straight past them.
"Do you see that?" Van yelled at the communicator in shock, though Fiona couldn't see anything wrong.
"There's no pilot!" came Thomas' response. In the next moment the winged Zoid had smashed straight into the second command center, creating a huge explosion. Through all the fire and smoke Fiona thought she spotted. . . Shadow!
"That Redler was sent as a decoy!" Thomas yelled in frustration. The two Zoids turned tail and ran back past the advancing soldiers. Passing through the heavy black smoke, Fiona found that they were in the Zoid storage and preparation area.
And standing in front of the open cockpit of a Darkhorn. . .
~*~
The soldiers were nowhere to be found. It seemed that, judging by the explosion heard earlier, Shadow had done something to occupy them. Entering the base had been no problem: Raven had known exactly where the weakness of this particular base was. It just appeared in his mind as the right way to get inside.
Perched on the edge of the Darkhorn's cockpit, he was about to get inside when there was the sound of a large object coming at him. Turning, he saw what it was.
Two Zoids were approaching from the other side of the square, the slower Di Bison in the rear. But he hardly noticed that. For the first time in months he was focused entirely on one thing.
The large blue Blade Liger was charging forwards, closing the gap between them at incredible speeds. He couldn't stop staring at it. It paralyzed him. And then the one memory he had came.
Through the crackling energy and shattered cockpit, the Blade Liger shot forward. The charged particle gun was firing at full power, but it might as well have been firing water. Shield up, he saw the left blade of the Zoid heading straight towards him. . .
Next he knew, he was piloting the Darkhorn in a kamikaze run towards the Di Bison. All guns firing, his instincts noted the battling style of the pilot immediately. Tendency to rely on firepower indicates inferior piloting. Best attacked at close range. Pulling the left control to swerve, he watched emotionless as the pilot tried to compensate his aim. With the opening, Raven headed straight in and fired both mounted guns directly at the chest of the Zoid. The Di Bison groaned and started toppling over.
Movement. His eyes flickered to the screen once more. The Blade Liger was coming at him. He expected to attack, but he did not. Instead, his hands executed a jump, right over the top of the blue Zoid. And he was heading out towards the exit. He didn't comprehend his actions; that was usual. But somehow he felt it wrong. He felt that he needed to understand this.
Yet, he could not.
The way was blocked with more Zoids. Deftly handling the controls, they fell before him easily. He maneuvered around once more.
The Di Bison and Blade Liger were facing him down. Something shifted in the fog: they would not let him escape. The instincts agreed. He had to destroy them. Easing back on the controls Raven moved forward at a slower pace, firing both machine guns at his two opponents. They leapt aside, each in different directions. He could no longer monitor them both at once. Unconsciously his eyes locked onto the Blade Liger. It filled his vision. It began to fire. He countered with short bursts of energy, repelling the shots, when a barrage of fire hit the Darkhorn from the left side. The other was firing also. His grip on the controls tightened. He felt the blood come again from his right hand, but his attention was still fully on the Blade Liger. With a twisting shriek of metal one of the guns fell from the Darkhorn, knocked away by the enemy fire.
The Liger's blades extended.
He felt himself become rigid.
The blade slashed through the side of the Darkhorn, and it fell to its side with the tearing, snapping sound of gears and wires being broken. Static electricity sizzled through the Zoid, rendering it immobile. He pulled on the controls. Nothing. He pulled again. Nothing. He'd gone blank. This wasn't a situation he knew, but his instincts were not coming to the rescue. Not this time. Unawares, his right hand moved the control stick to the side and detached the last machine gun. The Darkhorn fetched it up in its jaws and began firing it. The shots were erratic and hardly any were connecting with the other two machines. The ammunition ran out. The gun was firing empty rounds.
There was nothing he could do. His instincts had failed, and he couldn't think for himself. He saw his left hand, flickering and blurred in the firelight, hit the hatch button. Familiar waves of heat burst through the cockpit. The seatbelts unbuckled and he was left to drop to the ground.
Raven stared at the ground without seeing it. The fog in his head was thickening and choking him. There was a hissing sound. He looked up.
The Blade Liger stood metres away. The cockpit was open, and there was someone inside. Raven stared at him. Black hair. Dark eyes. Red rectangular marking on the left jawbone. Intense expression.
He knew this person.
Van Flyheight.
Something was boiling inside his mind. It was growing in force, beneath the fog, and shooting upwards. It would break through in a moment. Confused, Raven reached for it. But before he could determine what it was, it shattered. Just withered, and left him alone with the fog.
He'd almost come out of his lost self. But he'd failed to break through.
He stopped seeing again.
~*~
Van looked down at Raven. He looked the same, yet was obviously different. In four years he'd grown out of his childlike self and was on the brink of being mature. His hair was longer than it used to be, and ragged around the edges as though a child had cut it for him. His clothes were weather-beaten and washed out. The slash and circle marking on his face was as livid as a bleeding wound.
But it was the eyes that stole the breath from him. He remembered the eyes so well. Hardened, stormy eyes filled with hatred whenever they looked at him. Eyes that had witnessed the destruction of so many people and Zoids it was horrible to contemplate. And the eyes he hadn't seen when the Blade Liger had annihilated the Geno Saurer.
But Van couldn't see any of that in the eyes of Raven anymore. What he saw, was nothing. His eyes were dead and barren, empty windows that reflected the emptiness of his soul. They weren't alive.
They terrified him.
He didn't know how long they both were still, gazes locked on each other. But eventually he came to realize that Raven wasn't going to move. He wasn't going to get up and kill him, or run away, or yell at him that he hated him and wanted to end his miserable life.
Van swallowed hard, and unbuckled his harness. Vaguely he was aware of Fiona asking him what he was doing, but he didn't answer her. Instead, he leapt out of the cockpit. He steeled himself, and walked up to Raven. He stopped inches in front of him, but Raven didn't respond.
This hardened him further, and pulling the steel handcuffs from his pocket, he snatched his hands up and locked them in.
"You're under arrest for the destruction and murder of hundreds of people and Zoids."
Raven stared down at his hands with a blank expression, as though he didn't understand. Then he looked up, straight at Van. He felt himself go numb and almost lost himself in the emptiness of those eyes again. His pupils were dilated so far that his eyes looked black, ringed with storm-cloud purple.
Van heard running feet then, which brought him mercifully back to himself. "Private," he barked at the soldier who'd approached him from the side. "Take him to the holding cells. Keep him under armed guard at all times. Do you understand?"
"Yes sir," the man saluted, then grabbed the chain attached to Raven's cuffs and pulled him away. He went without a fight, with his head down.
Watching him go, Van felt another person come up next to him. A soft hand landed on his shoulder, and squeezed slightly. He felt slightly better, knowing that in this whole cursed world, there was another person there and they cared.
"Thank you, Fiona."
--------------------------
Holy shebang that took a while! And I'm so happy to be out of these scripted events, because now it's all going into uncharted territory. Well, not uncharted, I do have some idea of what I'm doing.
Sorry to all those Thomas fans out there, if I made him seem like a bit of a picky bastard. I don't hate him or anything, I'm just trying to view him from Van's perspective. And he won't be all narky for the whole story.
I don't know if I'll get the next chapter finished before I go on holiday, so it may be a while until it comes up. Like, February? I'll try my hardest though, pinky swear.