A word from your author: First of all, I'd like to apologize to you wonderful and patient people for waiting so long for this chapter. I know I left you off with a terrible cliffhanger, but at the time I had no intentions on prolonging the posting of this chapter. Unfortunately, the end of the week it was promised to you, I had received news on the sudden death of a dear friend's brother, which came as a great shock. Needless to say I was one of many people who was depressed and couldn't get him off my mind—which destroyed my brain with writer's cramp when I tried several times to finish what I had started here. On a better note, though, the freedom obtained today for the Thanksgiving recess has brightened up my day and I finally finished. It is a bit short, and some of it may not be very clear (I'm too lazy to rewrite the whole thing) but keep in mind what circumstances it was written under.

Enjoy.

Chapter 11: Impossibilities

His question swam through my head for far too long. The way he said it, the way he looked at me when he said it was enough to make my knees weak. "Well, Layrial, what are you thinking now?" How the hell was I supposed to know? It was only my own mind! Damn it to hell, this is turning into a nightmare. You know what? I hated it! There—HATED IT, you hear me?

No, of course he hadn't. He probably saw right through me and was answering his own question for himself. His eyes bore into my skull, picking through whatever information he could find and started feeding off it to come up with another way to torture me, to make me feel like I was no bigger than an ant.

But what did I really think? It wasn't…that bad, was it? Yes it was—of course it was! This was Cell, not some random guy I met on the street. First of all, he's not even human; second, he's a bloody terrorist! For someone who was basically a machine, he knew for the most part what he was doing. It wasn't the best, that's for sure, but there was still something there that caught me.

Oh no….

I had begun to realize after much contemplation that Cell achieved his goal. He did exactly what he wanted to do to me—he made me develop a small feeling for him, even if it was practically insignificant. The fact of the matter was I almost considered ignoring my conscience and allowing my ignorant and very stupid side to take over. I allowed my heart to race by his touch. I allowed myself to start closing my eyes and forget who he was.

"I'm waiting for your answer," I heard him say, although my vision couldn't…wouldn't focus on his face.

"Who said there is one?" I said without even realizing I had said it until it was too late.

I caught the smile forming on his face from the corner of my eyes. I hate my big mouth. I really did.

"Then I'm assuming, since you're denying it, that you do have some sort of thought for me other than an android who killed your friends."

Why did he have to say it like that? Especially those last few words….And at that point I realized that no, I didn't have any feelings for him. What I felt was nothing less than the intensity of the moment and that I could never forgive him for what he's done to me and others.

I stepped away from him, my feet pressing into the dirt ground next to the ringside. "No Cell, you're wrong." His smile barely faded. "You have nothing over me. And you never will. If you think a display of that type of physical communication is enough to persuade me to think otherwise of you, then you need to go do some research on the human mind."

I left it at that, and I'm glad to say I was proud of how it came out. It said basically what I wanted to and it was done calmly. I turned around and took a few more steps away from him before I stopped and held my arms around myself as if I was cold and had nothing to keep me warm. I closed my eyes and looked towards the ground and before I knew it, a small tear had escaped my right eye. I'm not sure why I started to cry again, but I did. It was a slow sob, but I could feel the salty liquid leaking from my surrendered eyelids.

Then, out of nowhere, strong hands landed on my shoulders. I jumped, but didn't dare pull away, my body afraid that those hands would break me in half. I looked up and over my shoulder; I knew who it was, but I couldn't figure out just why he was acting like this after I told him it was no good. Didn't he believe me?

"Layrial, perhaps you should know that you've caught my interest beyond the fact that you're a human," he said in a naturally composed manner. "And I think I've caught yours; you just haven't discovered it yet."

"Stop it," I scolded and pulled away from his grip. I aimed to swat his arm as I did this, but I missed by a mile. "Don't talk to me—don't even look at me! I don't want to have anything to do with you, you…you inhuman freak!"

I might've picked that as a chance to run, but I remained where I was and only turned my back on him. I wanted him to know that it wasn't fear of him. No, I know it wasn't fear; it was just disappointment that someone like him existed. I wanted him to have to stare at my back, knowing that I wasn't flying into his arms like he thought I might if he provided some sort of affectionate evidence.

"Very well," is the reply that came; it surprised me.

I waited for more to come, but there was nothing. I finally gave in and turned to see where he was and again surprise came to me to see that he was now standing back in the ring with his back to me. Was this another one of his antics?

I couldn't tell—I was never good at reading people for who they really were. My grandmother was; she could pick someone out easily. If you were a complete jerk, but put on a good show, she'd know it in a heartbeat. Don't ask me how 'cause if I knew I'd use the same technique. In a way, though, I had this terrible, aching feeling that Cell might've meant what he said…and did. Maybe not, but how can I actually know?

Wait…why would I want to know?

Because Layrial…you're lying when you say you haven't felt the slightest thing when he talks to you as if you were equal…or the way he smiles.

I hated my inner thoughts…especially when I knew they were pretty much right. So that was that. I made up my mind. I decided to give him a second…third…maybe we're on the fourth chance.

I approached Cell slowly, wondering if he'd tell me to go away since I insulted him for the millionth time that day. When I made it to the arena and he hadn't budged, I figured I was clear to step up.

Yeah…whatever…

"I suggest you keep your distance, Layrial."

"Why?" I asked solemnly.

He still hadn't moved. I wonder in what way his face was twisted in disgust at the thought of me. "I think you've done enough damage for one day."

I was flabbergasted. "How the hell have I done damage? I think you're the one who's tried to kill me several times!"

"I have never attempted to kill you."

"Oh no? What do you call that time when that other guy showed up? Or when you tried choking me a second time? Or when you had your foot prepared to crush my chest?"

He said nothing for the longest time. "That was a bad statement on my part."

"You're damn right."

"But you've found several opportunities to bring down the level of my self-esteem, haven't you?"

I threw up my arms and sat on the edge of the ring. I was getting tired of the endless, meaningless verbal disputes we had. It was starting to eat away my nerves and patience.

"Furthermore—"

"Give it up already! I'm sorry, okay? SORRY!"

There was a long moment of silence in which I thought I had thrown myself into the depths of Hell where no one would ever want to talk to me again. I kept my eyes on the dirt ground and listened for any signs of movement behind me. I heard nothing. Well, I can't say nothing…my heart was beating so loudly I thought that maybe he'd come over and kick me to make it stop.

When my ears perked up at the sound of a single squeak I turned to see if he was making his way over to me. When instead I noticed him looking towards the sky with his wings flexed out, I quickly stood up on the ground. Before I could finish standing straight he was in the air.

"Where are you going?" I shouted up to him.

At first he made no answer; he hovered over the arena for a long moment before glancing back down at me with an expression that spelt out confusion and anger. "I have other things to tend to. Leave if you will—it doesn't matter to me."

I stared at his retreating form as it became smaller and smaller in the distance until in a matter of seconds he was out of my range of sight. I stood still for a long while, my neck craned and eyes wondering over the sky for any signs of him returning. Finally, though, my neck started to hurt and I was forced to sit back down. He had told me to leave…I had my freedom right in front of me. And yet…I didn't know what I wanted to do. There was no point in me staying; in fact, I'd be foolish to do so. I could start walking right now and hopefully someone in a helicopter or car or whatever would see me and pick me up. I'd be home free. Free…from it all.

Dedicated to the loving memory of Johnny