.Hack: Penance
A .Hack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun

Disclaimer: Project .Hack and attached characters/concepts are property of Bandai and Cyber Connect. They are used without permission, but with the utmost respect.

Notes: Happens after the end of Quarantine. (Thoughts look like this.) I told y'all you should've been sitting for that last one! Uwee hee hee! Rest assured that genuine closure is coming. 3 chapters (after this) and counting!

This chapter done to the tune of: Shinedown – 45

Chapter 39 – Keeping Score

A soft sigh escaped his chest, a companion sound to the chatter around him. He heard the clicking of cameras, police conversations in both English and Japanese, radio static and heavy shoes tromping this way and that. None of it drew his attention away from the unfurling of bandages as a paramedic spun the roll around his arm over and over, slowly covering up the wound, which had already been numbed and disinfected.

"You sure it'll be okay?" he asked the medic – a short man in his 30's, blue jumpsuit and wavy black hair.

He nodded in assurance. "Don't worry, it looks worse than it is. You were lucky, he didn't do much more than break the skin, although the muscle could still tear if you stress it too much. Just try not to lift anything heavy."

"And my back?" Dean shivered slightly, a faint draft coming from the vent on the wall behind him. He glanced downward at his bare torso, also decorated in white.

"The same. Your jacket, believe it or not, took some of the bite out of his swing."

His mind began calculating how much he might have saved in medical bills, versus how much the jacket was going to cost him. "Good to know," he said dryly.

"There," said the medic as he finished wrapping up Dean's arm. "You should be good to go."

"Thanks."

Dean stood up, leaving his perch on the desk as the medic gathered up his supplies and left the office. The detective retrieved his tattered t-shirt and long-sleeve from a nearby chair, putting on one and then the other. As he was buttoning up the shirt, a shadow crossed the door, pushed inwards by the bright lights of the hallway outside.

"How are you feeling?" a quiet female voice asked him.

He briefly pondered how long she'd been standing there. "I'll be okay," he said, adjusting his shirt, trying to ignore the long, bloodstained holes on the sleeve and back. He looked up at Miku. "Are you all right?"

She leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over her chest, shadows falling over her eyes. "I think so," she said, her voice unmistakably uncertain. "I can't believe it all goes back to that night you broke in here. And coming after you, of all people."

The detective tilted his head left, rubbing the side of his neck. "Felix and the others probably got him thinking I killed Shinji." He paused for a couple seconds. "What wouldn't a parent do for their kid?"

She said nothing, scratched at the corner of her lip, her wrist noticeably trembling.

Dean reached over and grabbed his jacket from the chair with his good arm, looping his index and middle finger under the collar and slinging it over his shoulder. He knew what was bothering her. "Hey. You did what you had to do. I know that doesn't make it any easier, but it was him or me."

"I-I know," she said, pushing away from the door as Dean joined her. "I didn't even think about it like that at the time, it's just…"

Managing a weary smile, Dean reached out and set his hand on her shoulder. "Really, you did all right. That guy would've gotten me if you hadn't been there. He might've gotten Frank, too."

She inhaled through the nose – just barely a sniff – and asked, "How… how did it feel for you? The first time you ever… you know…"

His smile disappeared, his hand slipped off. "Yeah, I know. I know how you feel; for a while afterwards, I couldn't stop thinking about it."

She watched him closely. "How did you deal with it?"

He shook his head. "Well, I didn't have time to when it happened. I had to make sure my partner was okay."

"Your partner?"

He nodded. "It was eight years ago, before he got promoted. He took a nine to the leg from some dealer that resisted arrest. Was about to shoot him again when I put two in his chest." He looked away. "I got on the radio, called for an ambulance. All I could think about was making sure he was okay." Facing Miku again, he added, "Afterwards… eventually it just stopped bothering me."

She blinked, puzzled. "Just like that?"

He shrugged. "Just like that. Ah, I don't wanna sound heartless or anything… it's just that I stopped thinking about it." With a sigh, he added, "Of course, later other things got on my mind…"

The way he trailed off told her what he was referring to. "I… I see."

"For what it's worth… I don't think any less of you because of what you had to do. Far as I'm concerned, you're still who you were when I picked you up tonight. Miku Kurasawa. BT." He took a breath, his delivery as serious as he could muster. "A rather attractive young lady who causes me no end of simultaneous grief and curiosity."

"Mmph… hmm hmm…" she couldn't quite stifle a chuckle, her lips starting to crack into a smile.

Dean relished this small victory. "Anyway, there'll be time to relax later. Let's go see what Miss Mystery has to say."

She nodded, stood aside as he stepped into the hallway, and followed close beside him. They walked in silence towards the main office room, the maze of cubicles that were abuzz with police activity. Entering one path through the cubicles, he nodded to a sentry who took notice of their arrival, giving the young cop a short (if improper, considering his hand) salute.

When she spoke again, it genuinely caught him off guard. "Dean?"

"Yeah?"

Her voice bore a trace of her more common confidence. "Thank you."

He smiled. "She saves my life, and she's thanking me. I tell you, that just makes my day. All I need is a bottle of coke and a plate of nachos and I can call this the best day ever."

He'd had something wittier in mind, but that familiar soft laugh of hers set him at ease. (Thank you too,) he didn't have to say aloud.

"Dammit! Come on, work with me here!" Yumi snarled, frustrated as she typed out command after command. "What the hell did they DO to you!"

"Try suspending the root program," urged Francis, pointing to a blinking line of text on the black screen. "There may be a backdoor through the code."

More clacking of keys. "Nothing! I've never seen code like this before!"

He gave a sidelong glance at the woman he had long known as Helba. Gone was any part of her cool, collected nature, replaced by something between panic and rage. Outside the office, a security guard spoke with a police officer, who was dutifully jotting all the details down.

(I still can't believe they haven't found them yet,) thought Francis. (This building isn't that big, they can't still be hiding in here. And if they're aren't, how the hell did they get past the police?)

His eyes returned to the text box in the corner of the screen, an instant message from Aura herself. Although his stony visage showed little response to the distraught ramblings, inside he felt his stomach churning.

Trying to get his mind off of the girl, he asked, "How did they find you, anyway? Dean said something about them rebuilding Delphi, or something like it."

"To an extent," she explained as she typed. "That… that Felix," she seemed to spit the name out, flinching as she did so, "infected my character, took control of me using it. Whatever he found out about me, apparently it was enough."

"All this time," said Francis, "and you knew? Did Takahashi know?"

She gave an annoyed sigh. "We split well before all this, but yes, he knew; it was through him that I met Harald and Emma."

"And didn't you ever stop to think about warning someone? Getting ahold of us, instead of hacking our network?"

Yumi stopped typing. "You mean like Tokuoka tried to do? I don't think so."

Francis grunted, almost amused. "Fair enough, I suppose." He looked up, hearing a voice he recognized. "Well, look who's back."

Dean stepped into the office, Miku in tow. "What've you got?"

Yumi resumed typing, though half-heartedly so. "It's what Mr. Moritsu suggested. They're killing her, the only way they can without destroying 'The World' in the process."

"How are they doing this?" asked Miku.

"Technically speaking," said Francis, looking back at the computer, "they used a very sophisticated containment program to transfer her behavior protocols onto a disc. From there, they've isolated the protocols to where they will exhaust every possible means of escape. Once it has settled on self-termination, the disc will upload these protocols onto 'The World', and Aura will cease to exist."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "I didn't quite follow all that. Are you saying they've trapped her on a disc and she's going to kill herself if we don't get her out of there?"

"Psychologically speaking," Francis continued, ignoring Dean's question, "they've taken Aura's mind, locked it in a small, dark cell, and are waiting for her to grow insane, so when she's returned to her body – to 'The World' – she'll want to die."

Dean's breaths came in short, shallow bursts. "Jesus Christ… can't we do anything to stop it?"

"The disc is here," said Yumi, "and I'm trying to break the encoding so she can be released, but… I don't know how they did it, but this thing is like nothing I've ever seen before."

"Maybe they're using the Delphi program to contain her?" Dean suggested.

Yumi shook her head. "No, this is something else entirely. It's like it was custom-made, just for her."

"My god," murmured Miku. "Is Aura… really going to die?"

"This wasn't the handoff," Dean said quietly. "They didn't need to make one. That's why Takahashi's bodyguard came here – what was his name, Sebastian?"

"Yeah, Sebastian Wainright," said Francis.

"Right. Anyway, they knew we'd come after him, so Felix could sic Sato on me, and they could set this thing in motion. Even if Sato failed, we'd be tied up here trying to save Aura and they could get away in the confusion."

"What about the police?" asked Francis. "Surely if they saw him coming in, they would notice vehicles trying to get away, wouldn't they?"

Dean lightly chewed on his tongue. "I don't know. Felix has done stakeouts before, he knows how they work. Leaving the same way they arrived would be too obvious, but Masamoto knows that. Or at least, he should have."

A pair of beeps came from the radio of the hall guard, who had since finished speaking with the police officer. He spoke into the radio, muttering something affirmative and turning to enter the office. "Excuse me, Mr. Moritsu. Mr. Stollis?"

Francis and Dean looked over at the man. "Yes?" they said at the same time.

"There's a lieutenant Masamoto down in the lobby, he's looking for you, sir." He nodded to Dean.

"Speak of the devil," he replied. "Maybe they found something."

"We'll stay here," said Francis, "and keep working on this. We've got to break the programming keeping her apart. I don't think we have much time."

"What do you mean, 'You don't know!' Well, find out! I don't care how!"

As he neared, Dean witnessed a side of the lieutenant he'd never seen before; enraged, frustrated, clearly livid, yet with a look on his face that suggested concern and grief. Flanked by a pair of perplexed officers, Masamoto paced back and forth, shouting into a walkie-talkie, getting occasional curious glances from the few security guards milling about the lobby.

"I want to know where exactly you found it." He waved Dean and Miku over silently. "And then I want to know how they got out of here without their vehicles, and without being seen! Come on, Koji, get the lead out!"

"Rough night?" Dean asked innocently.

"We found your phone," Masamoto replied.

Dean blinked. "What?"

"Your cell phone. The one you taped to the bottom of the Range Rover?"

Miku gave him a weird look. "You did what?"

The detective had to think for a moment before his eyes widened in recollection. "Holy shit, it was still on there? I'd, uh… heh, I'd completely forgotten about it." To Miku, he explained, "I was trying to use it as kind of a cheap locator, in case we didn't learn anything from that Monroe guy we tracked down a few days back."

"Yeah, we know," said Masa. "The battery was dead. But, it apparently came off the vehicle somewhere on the east side of town. It wound up in a lost-and-found box of an apartment complex. Koji says the landlord claims someone brought it in off the street about a day ago. He charged up the battery, and whose name do you think popped up on it?"

Dean could only shuffle his feet and look at the floor sheepishly. "Heh. Can't believe it…"

Masamoto didn't so much as smirk. "We're trying to find out where exactly it was found. But Dean, there's something else you need to know."

"Wait, first, what's going on with Takahashi? Did you guys get ahold of him?"

"He wouldn't talk to us; technically we have nothing on him, we had to let him go. He went home for the night."

"I see. All right, what's up?"

It was Masamoto's turn to look away. "There's… no easy way for me to say this, Dean. We don't know how they got in or out, he must've had someone sneak into the expo, someone we weren't looking out for."

Dean felt a few traces of fear sneak into his nerves. "What happened?" he insisted.

The lieutenant gulped hard, not meeting Dean's eyes. "They grabbed him. They grabbed your friend Hiro."

Dean stopped breathing. "What?" he asked, almost whispering. His right arm fell to his side, the jacket over his shoulder following it, sliding off his fingers and to the floor.

Masamoto looked ashamed. "I'm sorry. Some girl claiming to be one of his friends reported seeing him with a man dressed like a cop, who claimed he knew you and you had something to tell him; this guy said Hiro would be right back, but when the girl went over there, they were gone. Then she saw them both enter a stairwell. The door was locked, and by the time security got it open…"

"No." The detective's left hand balled into a fist, his shoulders starting to shake. "No, no way… you… you can't be serious."

"I'm sorry," the elder officer repeated.

"N-no! This can't be happening!" he suddenly blurted out. "I… I-I-I told him it was gonna be okay! I… I… god damn it!" Twining his hands in his hair, squeezing the sides of his head, he shouted, "That… that cowardly little piece of shit! F-Felix… aaaaargh! God damn you!"

"Dean, easy!" Masamoto reached out to Dean. "Calm down! We are going to find him. We are going to rescue him, okay?"

"Dean," Miku murmured helplessly, watching as he started forward, almost walking through the lieutenant. She'd never seen him anywhere near as furious as he looked now, and still she pitied him, his battered form shivering with rage.

Masamoto put an arm across Dean's chest, forcing him back. "Dammit, Dean, settle down! I need you to work with me here, now! I can't beat this asshole without you!"

"Outta my way!" Dean shouted, trying to push past Masamoto, his features contorted into a hideous scowl. "I'm gonna find that sadistic little fuck and break every goddamn bone in his body! Let me go!"

The lieutenant forced himself into Dean's path. "That's exactly what he wants!" he challenged. "He wants to push your buttons so you go and do something stupid! Listen to me: this is not the movies. When the good guy goes nuts and goes out there alone to kill the bad guy, he only gets himself killed! You go out there, you will die, and so will he! Do you hear me?"

The American's head of steam started to wear off, Masamoto's logic penetrating his armor of hatred. "But, but…" he stammered, his struggle weakening. "I… shit…"

"Stay with me on this, Dean." Aniki looked him hard in the eye, loosening his grip. "We're gonna do this, you and me, we're gonna stop this guy. I need your help, but you need mine too. We're gonna get him back, okay? Are you with me?"

One final sigh signaled the end of Dean's bloodlust. "I… y-you're right, Masa, I… shit, I'm sorry. I just…" he stammered, ashamed; he dared not look the policeman in the eye.

"I know, I know," Masa assured Dean as he released him. "And it's okay. Listen. We have the girl in a squad car outside. She says she knows you. Why don't you go talk to her, see if you can't find out anything else before her parents get here, or at least reassure her."

Dean swallowed, forcing down a lump in his throat. "All right. But… wh-what about Hiro's mother? Have… have you called her yet?" His words were apprehensive, harried; anger had been replaced with anxiety.

"I just called her, she's on her way. I'll talk to her. Don't worry, I'll handle it." He patted Dean on the shoulder. "Just go talk to the girl. Okay?"

"Sure," said Dean. "Sure, uh…" he looked back at Miku, who was watching him with a strange mix of pity and wariness. "Can you… uh, will you…" he struggled for words, instructions, something to tell her, to show he was still in control.

She sensed his uncertainty. "I'll come with you," she answered, making the call for him; after his outburst, she wasn't about to let him out of her sight.

No thanks were necessary. He picked his jacket up off the floor and gave her a small nod. "L-let's go."

"Where did you say your parents would pick you up?" asked the officer from up front. "We'll have a man waiting there to get them to you."

Sitting in the backseat of the police car, Akira rubbed her eyes for what had to have been the fiftieth time that night; eyes long since spent of tears, now simply red and dry. "S-south entrance," she said. "Just opposite the convenience store on the corner."

"All right. Don't worry, your friend will be just fine."

His words, well intentioned though they were, rang hollow in her ears. She remembered the words of the false cop, how neither was at the lounge when she went there; she remembered seeing the cop and Hiro near a door to a stairway, and saw the frightened look on his face when the man shoved him into it, closing and locking the door behind him before the boy could even shout for help.

In hindsight, she was surprised she had the presence of mind to go straight for a real police officer. In hindsight, she wondered if she would have been better off just shouting 'help' right then and there.

Akira sniffed loudly. Their fears had come true; the events surrounding 'The World' were no longer confined to it. The boy she had come to trust, to call partner, to like… and maybe even to more than like; he was gone, and there was nothing she could do but wait.

(BlackRose wouldn't just wait,) she told herself. (BlackRose would go after Kite. She would help him when he needed her… just like he helped her when she needed him.)

There was a tap on the window. The officer rolled his down, and another man's voice spoke up. "Masamoto sent us. We're here to talk to the girl, Akira."

She knew the voice. "Dean?" she asked, craning her neck to look out the window. Sure enough, the detective stood next to the car, clad in a leather jacket with a long tear on the back; he was accompanied by a woman in a green sweater, who bore no physical trace of injury but looked similarly disheveled.

The officer nodded to Dean, who then opened the rear door of the car and stepped around it, kneeling down next to Akira. The woman hovered over him, watching her surroundings carefully but staying notably close to Dean.

"Hi, Akira," he said, his voice compassionate, his eyes weary. "How are you feeling?"

The question seemed innocent, if ultimately pointless. Akira looked at him expectantly, moving over to make room. "How did it all happen?" she asked. "Why did they take him?"

Dean shook his head, sliding into the seat, leaving one foot in place to keep the door from closing. "I don't know. We're trying to find that out now." Turning slightly to her, he asked, "Do you remember anything in particular about this man? Did he… did he say anything, to you or Hiro?" The questions were analytical, though there was a pain behind the words.

"No… nothing besides what I told the others," she said, scrunching up her face as she forced herself to actively think about the event. He had seemed honest enough, and the lounge was far from a quiet spot. "It's not like he ran in and grabbed Hiro…" she murmured, "I mean, he wasn't… w-when I saw him, he wasn't struggling or anything. It didn't even look like he was… like they were taking him, until I saw the cop shove him."

Dean frowned. "He was just going with them?"

"Maybe he told something to Hiro," said Miku, herself trying not to think too hard about a scared, lonely young boy being held captive by dangerous men. It was all she could do not to remember – at least, not to remember too vividly – another young boy being held captive, a lifetime ago and a world away.

"Maybe," Dean said, shoulders sagging. "I…"

Akira swallowed quietly. "So what do we do now?"

He almost collapsed against the backseat. His eyes stared up through the roof of the car, at nothing in particular. "I don't know," he finally admitted, a tacit surrender to fate. "I just don't know."

She hung her head. "I just wish there was something I could do. I gave him the chocolates… we were having such a good time together…"

Dean wanted to say something. He wanted to tell her it was going to be okay again, and this time he wanted her to believe it, even though it was something he was having a hard time believing.

For the second time that night, Miku saved him. "There is something you can do," she said, leaning forward into the car to address Akira directly.

Akira peered up at Miku. "What do you mean?" she asked, a trace of hopefulness in her voice.

"Be there for him," Miku answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

She started to look away, but Miku kept talking. "A while ago, there was… a friend of mine, who was having problems, online and offline." She spoke in slow, clear tones, soothing, her voice calming even to Dean, and maybe even to herself. "He… she had to go through many terrible things…" she pursed her lips, "things you can't imagine."

"But through it all, she always had friends she could count on." She stopped to inhale, breathing out as she continued. "They couldn't always be there to help her… sometimes she went to places they couldn't follow her into… but she kept going because she knew that they'd be there when she got back."

Akira nodded silently, staring up at Miku with eyes that shimmered.

Dean, listening to every word, spoke up in her stead. "You care for him, don't you, Akira?"

"Of course," she answered, earnestly yet with a hint of shyness.

With a nearly invisible smile, Miku picked up where she left off. "When he gets back – and he will get back – he'll want to play games again. He'll want to have friends, play around, have fun. He'll have a life again, you both will." She paused for emphasis. "You want to know how you can help him? Help him fill that life. Help him enjoy that life. Can you do that?"

Akira's eyes met with Miku's; warm, brown, piercing yet understanding. She was still too upset to be embarrassed, though a tiny part of her managed to be so regardless. After some hesitation, she said "I will," with just enough confidence to lift both of the adults' spirits.

Dean glanced at Miku, seeing something foreign in her expression. Foreign, yet kind. Almost motherly. "Good," he murmured, not really sure who or what he was talking to or about.

Akira closed her eyes for a second. "Can you find him? Is he really going to be okay?"

(What wouldn't a parent do for their kid?) His earlier words came back unbidden, something he hadn't thought twice about before. Forcing out his most confident smile, he said to Akira, "You better believe it."

To his surprise, she was able to smile back, albeit very faintly. "I'll try."

"Good."

Almost as an afterthought, she asked, "Oh… if… I mean, when you find him, can you tell him something for me?"

He nodded. "Sure, anything."

She met his eyes once more, this time with a glint of humor in them. "Tell him he owes me for the chocolates."

Dean chuckled. "I'll let him know."

"Hi, you've reached the Stollis residence. We're not here right now, please leave a message!"

Beep. Nobody home. He planted his elbow on the desk, resting his head on the receiver.

"Hey dad, hey mom. It's Dean. I, uh… well, I thought you guys might be home, I… just wanted to talk."

He coughed. For a second, he thought he could taste blood.

"It's been kinda busy over here lately, sorry I haven't been keeping in touch more often. Heh… workin' hard, y'know? Well, trying to, anyway."

He sniffed, adjusting his hold on the phone. The chair squeaked slightly as he turned in place, hunching over a little.

"Listen, there's something I gotta take care of, I can't stay on too long. A buddy of mine needs help with something… something kinda serious."

Silence. A partial truth. Spin. No need to worry them.

"I just wanted to let you guys know… I, uh…"

Another sniff.

"I love you both. Very much. And I…"

He gulped, his throat contracting; a close observer may have noticed a gentle sob, a voice cracking as he tried desperately to keep composed.

"Ah, I… I-I really miss you guys."

A sigh. An unburdening, the weight off his shoulders, just a little bit. Just to let mom and dad know he was gonna go be the good guy.

"I g-gotta get going. I'll… call you later. Take care, okay?"

Click.

End of Chapter 39