Aurora Borealis
The Boundaries of Human
Walking through the deserted corridors of the Archangel, Sai feels somewhat like a ghost. With nothing ever breaking the monotony on the ship that has somehow, to his undisguised horror, become akin to his home and the person who represented hope to all of them now gone it is as though they have all reverted to pale specters. Even Ensign Badguriel's sharp temper and sharper tongue and Lieutenant La Flaga's good humor have faded into silent, dying presences. The only chipper sounds are Torii's occasional noises, even among the civilians – they too have caught on to the grimness of the situation, from what he's seen and heard. That, admittedly, isn't much, being that he's mostly kept to the crew, but he'd have to be dead, deaf and blind not to notice the unrest. They haven't even been hiding here a week, and already a feeling of gloom hangs over them.
Though there is presently no need to operate or even maintain the controls of the ship, there have been things to occupy his time, for which he is grateful. Without the assistance of Strike it's a considerably harder and slower task to obtain and transport the supplies they need from external sources but it has to be done, and manning one of the little pods used for it is better than just slouching around on the mothership.
In between sleep and work, there's been Fllay. Which means that he hasn't been getting all that much sleep at all lately.
His pretty, petty fiancée has always been on the high-maintenance side, and now bereft of her usual coterie and with her beloved father recently killed she takes up a lot of his time and energy. Not that he minds, not at all, on the contrary he's rather grateful that she gives him something to do, someone to be there for so he doesn't have to feel so damn useless.
His fragmented musings are interrupted by one of the other crewmembers coming up beside him. "I hear they've taken in that shuttle we detected a while ago," the man says. "There's still no identification of it or its passengers, and I fancied I saw an alarm just about now – come with me to check?"
Nodding his agreement, Sai falls into step beside the other.
When arriving at last, they find the machine hall a battlefield. No, that's not the right word for it, and Sai's particular about his phrasing. "Battlefield" implies a large area, a large-scale fight, and that is not what takes place here – too few people, too cramped together. It isn't even really a fight, the two sides just being too unequal for that description, which speaks of mutual actions.
Stopping uncertainly a few meters from the closest person engaged, Sai stares at the only one who's actually doing damage, at a lethal boy his own age with hair a shade of blue that no amount of dye could ever have given a natural. He should probably search his mind for an answer as to how the hell they managed to get themselves into this situation, or better yet do his best to help remedy it, but he's frozen with fear and fascination at the sight of the Coordinator. Who's moving with a speed and agility Sai has only ever expected to see in fictional characters, heroes of computer games or sci-fi movies, the kind of controlled, passionate perfection that has so fleetingly graced some of Kira's moves.
Now La Flaga is leaping for Blue Hair and it should matter that the blond man is the Hawk of Endymion, with greater reach and presumably greater strength, more experience and a name as hero to live up to – it should matter but evidently it doesn't for one kick later the natural is down.
Next second he's not the only one, several other people falling as well; most of them screaming and bleeding, causing Sai's eyes to widen painfully as he notices the knives stuck in some of the victims. Still the feeling of being cut-off remains, as though he were watching an action flick. He never much liked those, though, and nausea is rolling at the bottom of his stomach at the sight of the redness rapidly staining white uniforms and orange bodysuits. Stumbling forward he lets his knees give way and collapses beside Ensign Badguriel. He hovers tentatively over her, never quite daring to touch the hilt of the knife stuck in between her ribs, and his attention snaps elsewhere as a familiar, impossible voice calls, "Athrun!"
Sai is absently glad that it's not possible for a human jaw to detach itself enough to hit the floor, cause otherwise he'd get himself some nasty bruising. Kira, MIA, dead-assumed but obviously very much alive Kira, is leaning against the wall of the shuttle. A meter or two away from him is Tolle, Tolle who's doing what Sai should have done, pointing a pistol at the Coordinator (Athrun? The Athrun they spoke of the night Kira disappeared?) and he'd have quite possibly managed to shoot him, had it not been for Kira's warning.
Now, with Tolle staring at their friend in bewilderment, Blue Hair makes his move, again so fast that it seems like everyone else is practicing slow motion, a blink of silver flying towards Tolle. This time the projectile wouldn't "quite possibly" have hit, no, it would with absolute certainty have landed exactly where Athrun intended, had Kira not again interfered.
The knife embeds itself into Tolle's upper torso almost at the same instant as the bullet takes Kira in the leg.
Blue Hair's shocked, terrified, furious exclamation ringing through the hall, Sai abandons manners and grabs Ensign Badguriel's gun from her belt, intending to go down fighting with the rest of the crew. It's over; they haven't a chance. Goodbye, Mother, Father, everyone, he thinks. Fllay, I'm sorry, I tried my best to protect you.
Catching sight of Kuzzey's mangled body, slumped against the wall the impact with which stole his consciousness, Sai surges to his feet but before he can get involved Kira speaks again, that same one word again capturing Blue Hair's attention.
Startled, Sai doesn't move a muscle as the Coordinator reaches out and grabs Captain Ramius, hardly able to register what's happening until Blue Hair has her securely captured and is pointing a gun at her head. Apparently somewhat shocked as well, Kira gives an indignant protest, but is fast though not unkindly cut off by the other Coordinator.
"Yes," he says. "Let's talk."
Talk? Sai thinks. You explode into our ship and start killing us, now you've taken the captain hostage and you want to talk?
Though of course they don't have much choice but to agree, a fact clearly illustrated by Lieutenant La Flaga's gruff, "Fine." He wavers slightly, clearly injured; he's the only one at all to get up again after having fallen twice. "What do you want?"
"I want not to be killed," is not unexpected, but that can't be said for, "And I want not to be separated from Kira." The brunette did warn him earlier, though – is this the friend he called out for, ill and alone, that fateful evening not so long ago?
Sai has to agree with La Flaga – the demands are reasonable, even humble. And, to his faint surprise, Blue Hair doesn't only release the captain, he even drops the pistol and kicks it towards the lieutenant. Sai isn't sure he'd have the guts to unarm himself in a ZAFT ship.
He doesn't have long to wonder about it, since only moments after stumbling free Captain Ramius' instructions honor the non-aggression pact, and Blue Hair can sink to his knees beside Kira while the Archangel crew examine their wounded.
"Call the doctor among the passenger," the captain orders, "and tell him to bring as many voluntaries as he can get. Everyone here who's able is to start helping the injured."
Sai has no idea what to do about a bleeding, death-pale Ensign Badguriel, and is so somewhat relived when La Flaga's hand closes around his shoulder.
"Unhurt?" he asks, and at Sai's nod continues, "Good. Then take this," he pauses to hand over a gun, "and bring those two," nodding discreetly in the Coordinators' direction, "somewhere else. Keep them there, try and get them talking but most importantly stay calm."
"Even with firearms I can't hinder-"
"I suggest aiming at Kira." Plainly seeing Sai's disbelieving mien (he's my friend, no matter what involvement he might have with that Coordinator he did keep his promise and return to us after giving the girl back to PLANT) La Flaga continues, "I'm not telling you to fire, I'm just saying that he isn't in a condition to fight effectively, and the ZAFT one doesn't seem likely to risk him. Oh, and search Blue Hair. All right?"
Not giving Sai time to protest the lieutenant disappears among the general chaos, and Sai forces himself to his feet and towards Kira and Athrun, pistol clutched nervously in one hand. Coming closer, he realizes that his brunette friend can't be hurt especially badly since neither he nor the other Coordinator is bothering to do anything about it; instead they're hugging each other closely. Blue Hair is on his knees, arms tightly around Kira so that the other is half lying, half sitting against him, and the brunette's hands are around his companion's neck.
"Um…" Sai begins intelligently, "Excuse me."
They both look up at him, Athrun's face guarded and suspicious, Kira's tired but friendly. "Sai," he greets.
"Yeah," he agrees. "I'm supposed to escort the two of you somewhere else. I trust you don't mind coming with me immediately?"
"That's fine," Kira says, and Sai crouches down to take half his weight (shot in what looks to be an already injured leg there's no way the brunette can walk) but before he's come even close to making contact Blue Hair is tensing, coiling up like a snake ready to spring. Sai stares as Kira catches the ZAFT soldier's hand in his own, intertwining their fingers and holding on as Athrun relaxes and lets his arm drop. "Easy, there," he admonishes lightly, then turns to Sai, "You don't need to help. Just lead the way."
Indeed his assistance isn't needed, seeing as the blunette scoops Kira up princess-style with what appears to be little or no effort. After an initial blushing reluctance the brunette puts one arm over his carrier's shoulder and rests his head against his body. Athrun's steps are steady and sure behind him as Sai makes his way through the corridors, aiming for a certain smallish room close to the bridge. Pistol clutched in his sweaty grip or no he's grateful to reach his goal and show them through so that he no longer needs to have the Coordinator behind him.
Remaining just inside the doorframe he watches passively as the blunette gently deposits Kira on the table and says, "We should probably check the wound." The two Coordinators nod at each other before jointly peeling away the blood-soaked cloth covering the brunette's thigh.
"How does it look?" Sai asks, coming a few steps closer. Given that Athrun's obscuring his view the question is rather literal.
"Hit just above the bandage," the blunette mutters, "so it didn't disrupt the broken bone. Now, it's a clean wound, but I'd need a pair of tweezers to remove the bullet and something to staunch the bleeding with afterwards. And we're very lucky some of the pain killing drugs they fed you at our ship must still be lingering in your bloodstream or this would hurt like a real bitch. I assume you have some sort of medical facility and associated personnel aboard?"
"Not much of that, unfortunately," Kira replies, "and I don't doubt that I'm not exactly on the top of their priorities list."
Athrun's lips thin, but he keeps his temper. "Can't do much about it now, then," he says. "We'll just have to bind it." Using the fabric ripped from Kira's trousers he proceeds to do just that, the procedure punctuated by a few moans and sucked-in breaths from the brunette.
"Err," Sai ventures when the ZAFT solider appears to be finished. How the hell do you phrase a request to body search someone anyway? "I was asked to… I mean, I'm supposed to – to check, that you… that you don't…" A few tries later he finally gets it out, a furious pink tingle to his cheeks. The anticlimax that is Athrun shrugging and nodding approval is welcome, except that now he has to actually do it.
And nevermind how the hell you ask to body search someone – the relevant question is how the hell do you body search someone?
Finally, uncertainly, he puts his sweat-dewed hands on the blunette's shoulders, following them from neck to end and tracing down the arms. That part, like fingering the Coordinator's sides, is all right, but though Athrun doesn't seem to give a flying fuck, Sai is mortally embarrassed at the idea of searching the other's chest or thighs. He forces himself to do it anyway, sloppily and blushing, skimming over lean muscle and sharp bone. The thin green sweater, of a brand Sai recognizes from Fllay's occasional lectures on fashion, reveals enough to have the natural wondering how someone so thin and fine-boned can have the kind of strength that the blunette obviously does. Well, Kira is like that too, all delicate iron fists.
"I… I think I'm done now," he announces at last, and the one with the red, relieved face ought to be Athrun but it isn't. According to La Flaga's instructions Sai should attempt some sort of small talk or questioning now, see if he can get any information, but his social skills aren't precisely one of his assets and they sure don't look like they'd take kindly to being disturbed.
Just a few seconds later the door swishes open, revealing the blond lieutenant and Captain Ramius.
"Kuzzey's dead," are the first words out of the former's mouth. The brutality is shrouded in words so simple that Sai's brain refuses to process their meaning for what feels like an exceedingly long while. Kira's face goes ashen, his lips trembling and his eyes hard while the captain gives her lieutenant a half worried, half disapproving gaze. Only Athrun looks completely unfazed.
That, however, changes when Kira turns to him. "Ohmygod," he pants. "You killed Kuzzey."
"It appears reasonable to assume that, yes," Athrun agrees. Judging by his tone, Sai wouldn't be completely surprised to hear him add, Who the hell is Kuzzey anyway? Or possible, Yeah, so?
"It's not right," Kira says. "It's not right to kill a person and then just walk away from it."
"I'll hurt if you want me to," the blunette replies, staring into purple eyes, green ones strained and sincere. "I'll die if you want me to."
Regardless of how dense he knows he is when it comes to moods and relationships, Sai doesn't doubt that Kira is moments from crying as he clutches Athrun to him, whispering words that don't need to be heard to be understood as an explanation that as far as he is concerned the other Coordinator should never hurt, can't ever die. Was Kira always this clingy? Sai can't remember the brunette ever hanging on to him this way, or to anyone else, not the way he and Athrun are constantly seeking contact, touching and staring at each other.
"If you are quite done," La Flaga interrupts them, gaining their attention though their physical proximity is still striking, "I thought I'd inform you that Tolle too is dying. The knife didn't give him any lethal puncturing but he's losing too much blood to make it without a transfusion. Now, the doctor says he can manage that procedure with fairly low risk-levels, but we don't know what blood type he needs and there's no time to check it."
But if you provide it we don't have to, since Coordinator blood is compatible with all types.
"Of course," Kira says immediately. "We have to hurry up and help him!"
Athrun's hand firms around his shoulder. "You do not have any blood to spare."
"But you do," the brunette points out.
"Give me one reason to help him," his friend challenges.
"One normally does help people when one's able to!" Kira explodes. "One doesn't just let friends die-"
An intense green gaze cuts him off and Athrun states, "You could have as much as you wanted. That person is not my friend, and if he were yours I doubt he'd have fucking shot you."
"He never intended to!" Kira argues. "He was aiming for you!"
"There was an interval of several seconds between your getting in the way and his pulling the trigger," the blunette contradicts. "Anyone could have stopped in time."
"Anyone who's a Coordinator, probably," Kira says, "but not a natural. They are like that. They can't do better."
"It's true, then," Athrun concludes coldly. "They really are like children."
"Time's running out," La Flaga interjects, chasing panic over Kira's face.
"If I can have your blood, then give it to me and I'll give it to Tolle," he says to Athrun who closes his eyes briefly and sighs in defeat.
"All right," he yields. "Fine. I'll do it."
Kira smiles gratefully, and minutes later they're all in Tolle's room, which is crowded by the doctor, several volunteers and a hysterical Miriallia. Quite unceremoniously they sit Athrun down at one of the beds and tap him of blood until his skin is white as snow and he's lying down, eyelids fighting weakly against the overpowering pull of gravity.
Afterwards Miriallia remains at Tolle's bedside, having cried herself exhausted but to agitated to fall asleep, Kira lets the doctor pluck the bullet from his leg and swallows a few painkillers before curling up next to Athrun, and Sai is told to keep watch and slumps down self-pityingly on the only chair.
xxxxx