No, I didn't die. I just got distracted by The Two Towers. . . * latches onto Aragorn *
OK, so now we're at the point where I'm taking the story into alternate universe territory. I have no idea how long each chapter will be; that last one was a freak of nature at 5000+ XD. And yes, the characters will most likely divert from their "normal" personalities somewhat. That's what makes it original and . . . stuff. Thanks to all my reviewers, you've been great so far.
I'll stop being annoying now and start the actual chapter.
Zoids doesn't belong to me. If I did own a Zoid, do you reckon I'd be wasting my time writing a story when I could be off joy-riding? No, didn't think so.
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I'll Pity You When You're Gone
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Three: Twisted Expectations
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"That was all very anti-climactic if you ask me."
Van turned to look incredulously at Thomas. "Have you even looked at your Di Bison since three hours ago?"
"Don't give me that," Thomas snapped, kicking out with his boot at the toolkit lying near his feet. "Of course I've seen the Di Bison. Why do you think I've been screwing around with spanners for the past hour? All the bolts on the front left leg have been blown out, and the wiring's half melted which causes electrical fluctuations that I could do without, because it requires a lot of reprogramming in BEEK's system and why did you change the subject like that? You sent me off on a tangent. And you know what I meant."
Sighing, Van picked up a wrench from the kit and began twisting a stubborn screw in the Di Bison's leg. He was hoping that Thomas would get the hint and leave him be, but obviously he wasn't to be deterred. Let him fume over there for a bit, he thought. He wasn't some encyclopaedia to be consulted whenever then put back on the shelf.
"Van, I'm not trying to irritate you. I can tell you've been a bit unhinged by it all."
"And just what do you mean by that?"
"You're using the wrong end of the wrench." He was right. Van scowled and turned the stupid thing upside down, then attacked the screw again. He heard Thomas sigh. "All I'm saying is, it was strange. I mean, after all I've heard about Raven, I didn't expect him to go down without a fight. He sounded like the sort of guy who'd still be trying to kill you if the only weapon on hand was a piece of wood."
Van couldn't help imagining Raven threatening the Republican forces with a tree branch in his hand. Sadly enough it made him grin. Thomas always managed to come up with something that could break the tension. If he felt like it, that is. Leaning back against the cold metal, Van decided to talk about it. Maybe he could get a little peace then.
"I don't know, Thomas. Don't look at me like that, I'm telling the truth. I've fought him heaps of times, and all of those he was willing to fight until the very end." He felt his skin go cold, just thinking about it. "I. . . honestly, I don't know. It confuses me."
True to form, once Thomas was part of the conversation he relaxed his starched and sarcastic manner. "Maybe he wanted to be captured? Part of some diabolical scheme to . . . um . . . well, it's diabolical, it doesn't need to go anywhere beyond that."
"Sometimes I wonder," Van said with a mock sigh, "how you managed to get promoted to Lieutenant." Thomas looked scandalized.
"Now that was uncalled for."
"Oh yes it was."
"Was not."
"Was too."
"Was not times ten."
"Was too infinity."
"Damn." Van smirked at Thomas, who stuck his tongue out in return, before stomping off to run a diagnostic check on BEEK. Pushing himself away from the Di Bison, he decided he should check the Liger himself.
Crossing the tarmac, Van was struck anew by how equally beautiful and powerful the Blade Liger was. The streamlined head and body were designed for high-speed piloting, yet concealed the weaponry that could – and had – destroyed many Zoids. Its yellow blades seemed to glow in the twin moonlight, tucked away next to the boosters.
But when he reached the Liger, he didn't feel like checking its systems or components. Instead, he sat down on the claws of its front right leg, and looked at the moons. It was a few weeks yet till they would be full; tonight they were curved sickles, the smaller almost within the larger.
Suddenly he felt very cold and alone. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, hugging himself. He shouldn't have left Thomas. He didn't like being alone. Because it left him with only himself, and his thoughts. And those thoughts were not wanted, especially not now. Van knew the barriers he'd set up against remembering were cracking again. It was worse when he couldn't be distracted by daily life. It was then that the ignored and repressed dark feelings would try to creep into his soul, eroding his happiness. It very rarely happened anymore; he was always with Fiona and Zeke. And even when he wasn't, he made sure that he was busy doing something. Nights were the worst.
"Van?" came a soft voice from above his head. Startled, he looked up at Fiona's shadowy form, accented around the edges with moonlight. She looked concerned.
Van stood up quickly and stretched his arms. "It's a bit cold tonight, huh?"
How long did I sit there? How long was she standing with me and I didn't notice?
He couldn't quite see Fiona's face in the dark, but he heard her response. "Just a bit. I've been inside, I didn't notice. Speaking of which, that's why I came to find you. Captain Hayes wanted me to get you: they want to discuss how to deal with Raven, and they thought you should be a part of it, seeing as. . ." She trailed off, not needing to say anything more. He was silent a moment, thinking it over.
"Yeah, of course I'll come, if I'm needed," Van smiled to reassure her, though he wasn't certain she could see it in the dark. "I've had the most experience with . . . him after all."
Fiona moved then, and the dim starlight struck red in her eyes. "Yes. You have."
~*~
High above the base, perched on a cliff, the pair was watched by no less than four sets of eyes. They had been there for a long time, watching the battle, and the attempt to clean up the aftermath. And they were still there, watching, when Van Flyheight and Fiona Alisi Linette headed into one of the buildings nearby. The woman, a cold person with ice-blue hair and eyes that could stop anyone dead in their tracks, turned to her flame-haired companion.
"This was unexpected. I thought that Raven was sure to reawaken when he saw Flyheight. This changes things."
Hiltz didn't move, however. His gaze remained fixed on the pitiful army living quarters that was called a "base". Behind him, two spiked creatures shifted with their yellow and green eyes flaring. He smirked then, and turned to Reese.
"It doesn't change our goal. It only changes the way things need to be done."
~*~
"As you can see, the damage done here tonight will take a long time to repair. This base is going to be out of operation for at least a week, as far as military activities go. Zoids will still be functioning of course, but our communications and strategy rooms were destroyed in the attack. Any planning and organizing will have to be done in alternate buildings."
The man talking, Private Saunders, seated himself at the table again. Captain Hayes seemed to be digesting the information, whilst the other officers and soldiers looked morose. Van, sitting at the far end of the table, was only getting a headache. When was the last time he slept longer than five hours in one go? Trying to remember only made the headache worse. He noticed another person move to speak out of the corner of his eye. When would this meeting end?
"We can sort all of that business out no troubles. We have procedures for things like this," said Tactical Specialist Maiyer. "The real problem is what to do with Raven." Everyone nodded or made agreeing noises around the table.
"He can't stay here forever, that's one definite," Captain Hayes put in, rubbing his chin.
"That's true. After all, he's supposed to be part of the Imperial Army. He's their duty, not ours. The Republic shouldn't be put in charge of his miserable fate." More agreement. Van shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Military chairs were always so hard and straight; it was virtually impossible to get a good position in them. And he always had to sit in them when there was something bad being spoken about.
"Before we do anything, I suggest that we interrogate Raven, sir." Maiyer suggested. "The less time we give him to create false stories the better."
"Lieutenant Flyheight," Van was startled out of his reverie by Captain Hayes. "You've had experience with this man before. Would you be willing to bring him out of his cell to the interrogation block?"
"Of course sir," he said before having a chance to think about it, much less doubt it.
"Very well. If you would do that immediately, please."
"Right away sir." And with that, the meeting was over. Everyone began to push back their chairs, gather their papers and leave the briefing room. Everyone was relieved to be free at last, and be able to go to bed after such a harrowing night.
Everyone except Van.
Still sitting in his rigid chair, he pressed his fingers against his temples and groaned a bit. He would have done anything to just get up like the rest of these men and be able to sleep a while, but he couldn't. And it was because of his reputation, yet again. Van Flyheight, the only person who'd ever defeated Raven, so he must be able to handle him. "Yeah," he murmured to himself, pushing his chair back. "Of course Van Flyheight can handle it."
He was alone in the room. Van frowned. He always seemed to lose big spaces of time when he was thinking, although it never seemed that long to him. Supposing he should hurry, he exited the room swiftly. The questioner was probably waiting for him and his charge already.
Van decided to distract himself by reading every sign he came across. Unfortunately once he left the building and had to cross the launching platform there was little to read. Even if there had been signs, it was too dark to make them out. It was very late: probably past midnight by now.
Reaching the holding block, Van took out his keys and unlocked the door. He knew from experience how Republican holding cells were laid out. The common thieves and inexperienced criminals were kept on ground level. More dangerous prisoners were kept in the level below, in underground cells. Underground was certainly where Raven would be. Crossing to the door at the far end of the first level, he opened it and went down the stairs.
The door to the underground cells was made of sturdier stuff than the upper doors. Three inches of steel, to be exact, with three separate bolts and locks. Van had a hard time imagining anyone getting out of this door, unless they were packing serious firepower. He swung his keys into all three locks, and then pushed the door open. It went reluctantly, squeaking at the hinges as though it could use a good oiling.
It was dim in the cells, with only two bulb lights hanging from the ceiling. Van supposed he couldn't expect a prison to be cheerful. He would have preferred a bit more light though. The darkness was making him feel caged. He spotted a guard standing against the last cell, holding his gun and generally looking like he'd rather be somewhere else. Van could relate with him. The man stood at attention and saluted when he noticed Van enter the room.
"Lieutenant Flyheight."
"Private," Van said, saluting himself. He always felt slightly silly at these formalities. "I can take this from here. Go ahead and inform Captain Hayes that I'll be there shortly, then you can go off-duty for the night." The soldier visibly relaxed, and saluted again.
"Thank you sir." He turned and left out the door then, leaving Van alone.
But he wasn't alone.
Van still hadn't looked through the bars yet. He was expecting to be met with a look of open hostility and madness, regardless of what he'd looked like before. Old impressions die hard.
You're being stupid. Just turn around and do it. He sighed, and turned to face the bars of the cell.
It took a while for his eyes to adjust enough to see, but finally he could make out in the inside of the cell. Besides the floor-to-ceiling bars that made up one wall, the rest of the room was cold grey stone. There were no windows of course, being underground. The only thing in the cell was a wooden bed attached to the wall with bolts and chains. Raven himself was on the bed, facing the wall so that all Van could see was his back. And, he appeared to be asleep.
Van was incredulous. How could he be asleep? No, he was just ignoring him and being difficult, that was it. Getting frustrated, Van brought out his coldest, toneless voice to deal with him.
"You're to be questioned. Get up."
Raven didn't move. Van scowled.
"I know you're not asleep. As if you would be, considering all you did tonight. Get up now."
He still didn't respond. Van was getting angrier by the minute. If that fool kept on being insolent, he had half a mind to get a gun and shoot him in the foot just to get a scream out of him. As soon as he thought that he was disgusted with himself, but he pushed both thoughts away.
"If you don't get up right now, I'm coming in there and dragging you out." Van had no idea why he said that. He had no intention of touching Raven, much less hauling him across the floor! But still, he might have to, considering that for the third time he didn't make a move to get up. Van hovered at the bars of the cell, unwilling to go in there. For once in his miserable life Raven should be compliant. He was beginning to wish that Raven would even insult him, throw a punch, give him the evil eye. Because a sneaking nasty thought was trying to get into Van's mind. That same thought that almost destroyed him years ago. Hastily he whipped out the cell keys and pressed them into the keyhole.
Rolling the door aside with a squeak, Van stepped into the stone prison. The feeble light from the globe cast striped shadows across the floor and wall. It was barely three steps to where he lay. Too close for comfort. Too far for reassurance. Van hesitated again, just inside of the cell door.
"Raven?" he asked quietly, and even Van was aware of the threads of uncertainty and nervousness in his voice. If Raven was truly awake, he would have delighted in having this effect on Van. So then. . .
Feeling strangely surreal, Van resurrected his courage and approached the bed. Standing above Raven, watching him lie utterly still, was almost too much for him. When was Raven ever still? He was always destroying, hurting, taunting.
"Come on, get up," Van said, still clinging to the false hope that something would happen at his words. In a sudden movement his hand came up and grabbed Raven's shoulder. Van was shocked at how sharp the bone felt underneath the fabric and skin. He shook him a little. "Come on. . ." Van was shaking him harder now, trying to banish the spiraling sensation in his stomach. Finally he pulled too hard and Raven was flipped onto his back. Startled, Van drew back a little.
Raven looked terrible. In the dark of night and lit by dancing flames, it had been easy to miss how much weight he had lost. He had always been a lean person, but now he looked thin. His cheekbones were more prominent than they had been, and his face was beginning to look pinched. Dark grey hair was plastered across his pale forehead, making him seem colourless as the hour before dawn. The slash and circle marking on his left cheek looked akin to a gash. He was breathing: that much was certain. But it was shallow and weak; Raven's chest hardly rising when he inhaled.
Compelled by some unknown instinct, Van pressed his index and middle fingers against Raven's neck. It was cold. Van found a heartbeat, and waited for the next. Too many seconds passed before it came again.
Van withdrew his hand. Without giving it a moment's thought he shot out of the cell back towards the main door, where he knew there was an internal base phoneline.
"I need a medical team down in the high security cells now!" Van directed at the receiver, dimly bewildered at how controlled his voice was, though it was definitely higher than normal. There was some static, then someone telling him a team was on its way, and then silence. Van hung up the phone receiver, and rested his head against the hard wall.
Reality was fracturing around him, and there was nothing he could do. There was never anything he could do.
"Fool. . ." he whispered.
~*~
"Dehydration. Malnutrition. Several fractures not completely healed, some caused by stress from excessive piloting. Damaged vision."
"Damaged vision?" Fiona asked, turning to the doctor. He in turn looked to his clipboard.
"Yes From what we can tell, it was caused by exposure to extreme light sources. Explosions and the sun I'm guessing. Those sort of things are bound to damage your eyes. In addition to that, there are quite a few old burns that look like they've never seen medical attention. I suppose that's to be expected though. Most of them are along his legs and back. Oh, and there's the injured right palm. Moderate level of tissue damage there." He snapped the clipboard shut and gave them a half grin. "He's been beaten around the bush, this one."
Fiona managed to smile wanly as the doctor left down the corridor to check on other patients. Sighing inwardly, she turned to Van. He'd been standing with his arms crossed the entire time the doctor was there, staring fixedly through he viewing window of the hospital room door. She knew he'd been listening, though he hadn't shown it. Van hadn't said a word since he'd come up a few minutes behind the medical team, and didn't look like he was going to start now. There were dark shadows under his eyes, and his disheveled hair was beginning to escape from his ponytail.
"Van – " she started, pulling at the edge of her sleeve.
"I'm going to bed," Van said flatly. Dropping his arms back down to his side, he strode away down the hall without even looking at her. She watched his retreating back until it disappeared around the corner. Unbidden she remembered what the doctor had first said when he'd come out of the room.
"He was lucky. An hour or so more and we wouldn't have been able to help him. His body had begun to shut down. Thanks to Lieutenant Flyheight's quick thinking, he may pull through."
But he might not, Fiona thought. She stepped up to the viewing window and peered inside. All she could see of Raven was a shock of dark hair against the pillow, and the shape of his body underneath the blanket. Turned away from her, she could not see where the IV fed into his left arm. He didn't look strong enough to last from this angle.
It was the one scenario she'd never expected. Over the years his image had changed from that of a murderous child to that of a dead nightmare in her mind. Never a shell of a person on the verge of death once more. And she still was not sure whether she wanted him dead or alive.
"For Van's sake, I hope that. . ." But Fiona stopped. Because she didn't know which would hurt him more.
~*~
Raven stood upon a dark road. The ground was like black sand, glittering along his path. Around him a mist drifted. It was silent here, with a tingling quality unlike any earthly feeling. He twisted to look back along the pathway, presumably where he'd come from. But he couldn't see anything for the wispy fog clouding that direction. The black road extended on into it until it was swallowed up. He knew he'd come to be here from beyond those mists, yet it seemed like there was nothing for him there. He felt no desire of need to go that way. Turning back Raven gazed at the path ahead. This way the fog did not seem to cross the road; it halted at the edges of it. Raven could clearly see the sparkling floor. Following it with his eyes, he thought he could see an abrupt end to the road ahead of him. It beckoned to him, calling with what could almost be music. He wanted to go this way.
Walking towards the end of the path brought no noise from his shoes. All he could hear was the urge to meet with the end of the road. The silvery mists closed behind him where he walked. And then he was there.
The black road indeed ended here. It looked as though someone had cut into it like a knife, severing it cleanly at his feet. The ground dropped away into a sheer cliff with no bottom. There was only blackness deeper than any night below him.
Raven heard the call whisper to take the last step. It promised or pretended nothing: only told him to go. He looked back behind himself again. The fog was absolute. He could see nothing. And so he turned back, and lifted his foot.
There was a sudden pressure on his right arm, and he was pulled backwards. Looking up he saw a dark spiny creature peering urgently at him. He knew this creature. Shadow. . .
He'd said nothing, but Shadow seemed to hear. He swung his head back along the path, then back towards Raven. His blue eyes burned with fire and need. Shadow opened his jaws and bit down into his arm again, tightly. It should have hurt, but it did not. Shadow tugged twice at him.
You want this of me? Raven thought. To return? Shadow growled and pulled again, as though to say yes. I cannot pass through the fog. . .
Shadow hauled on his arm then, causing Raven to stumble along with him. The organoid plunged into the mist, dragging him along in his grip. With the fog pressing against him from all directions, Raven felt afraid. He couldn't do this, he couldn't. Everything started to fade to blackness. In terror he flung his other arm out and snatched at Shadow's neck. But the organoid was beginning to fade as well. He was lost now. He couldn't find his way. Something whispered into his mind as the dark came.
Alone, Bittersong cannot. But you are not alone. . .
Not alone? Raven wondered, and then blackness shut in entirely.
~*~
There was a sound nearby. Only from this could Raven tell he was awake. His eyes were still closed. The sound was constant and the same each time. Something about it seemed to relate to a thing he knew. Yet his thoughts were still suffocated by the fog, and he couldn't recall. He felt utterly exhausted, through and through. Somehow things felt strange. Where was he?
Slowly he managed to open his eyes. He couldn't see properly at first. Raven blinked and managed to nearly clear his vision. He was looking at a grey paneled ceiling, a single inactive light in the center with fuzzy edges. He was in a building. This made no sense. He never woke up inside any houses or man-made shelters. The noise was continuing, and it was coming from his left side. Raven needed to know what it was. Dredging some strength out of his wrecked body he shifted his head so that he could see what was on his left side. He could see a boxy machine at eye level with a green line traveling across its screen. As he watched, the line spiked upwards then down before going straight again. At the same time the noise came again.
A heart rate machine. So he must be in a hospital of some kind. There was a stand next to the heart monitor, a thin metal pole extending upwards. At the top, a clear plastic bag was hooked, that seemed to be full of liquid. A small pipe came out of the bottom of it. Following it down, he saw then that it disappeared into his left arm. He stared at where it was taped down to the skin. Why was it there? It wasn't normal. He didn't want it there.
Raven slowly pulled his right arm out from under the sheets that covered him. His hand felt strange. Bringing it up to his face he saw that it was bandaged. He then brought it round and let his fingers grip around the thin pipe extending out of his arm. Trying to pull it out was harder than he had anticipated; his hand was shaking and he couldn't hold onto it properly. His arm was starting to hurt where the pipe was sliding out bit by bit. There was a sudden noise like a door opening, footsteps, and then a woman in a starched white uniform appeared in front of him.
"I'm sorry, but you shouldn't do that," she said, removing his hand from the artificial vein. He stared at her, confused. Noticing, she turned away and checked the bag at the end of the tube. "You need the IV drip to get well again. You're badly dehydrated." He couldn't understand half of what she meant, but he thought that she must know better than him at least. She went around to the end of his bed and picked up a chart, scribbling something onto it. As she headed to the door, she halted and looked back at him. "You should . . . get some rest." And then she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her.
He couldn't get his mind to function, couldn't get the answers from beneath the fog like he used to. What do I do now? But he got no answer. Raven felt a wave of exhaustion hit him. He was horribly tired. His eyes shut of their own accord and the dark swallowed him once more.
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Notes:
I am no doctor, and I don't know much about medical things besides sticking a bandaid on something if it bleeds. So all the details about the effects on Raven from his dehydration and lack of food are completely made up. I was going on the assumption that when your body begins to shut down, your heart would go slower and therefore you would get cold. So uh, even if someone tells me what *really* happens, I won't change it, because I needed it that way for this chapter.
All the military ranks are correct, I looked them up. Captains are indeed higher than Lieutenants so no one bite my head off. Also, interesting fact for you. There are two ranks of Lieutenant: First and Second. I'm guessing that Thomas is a First Lieutenant and Van is a Second Lieutenant, just going by that episode where Thomas was all "You're disobeying my orders blah blah" and seeming to make a point of being higher in rank than he was.
I'd just like to say that writing for Raven is extremely difficult, given his lack of memories and personality of any sort at this point in time. So if anything is weird in those parts, I apologize.
The large italics section was intended to represent a dream. I hope you realized that.
Do you know how frustrating it is to describe a prison cell?
Once again, if I've gotten names wrong please tell me.
One more thing. I'm going on holidays tomorrow and I won't be back until January 27th. So don't expect any new chapters until February. I may work on it while I'm away but it's doubtful. In the meantime, go frolic in the sunshine or something. Vappa out.
*Update 31/01/03* Oh my goodness, I spotted some mistakes! So I fixed. Chapter 4 is coming along nicely, should be up soon. At least by the end of February XD.