Hello Would you like a story?

by Lune-Solei

UxY, JxA, and Ox? What happens when a young girl is faced with her worst enemy? What happens when the story takes on a life of its own?

Disclaimer: I don't own Code Lyoko

Pairings: UxY, JxA, Ox?

Chapter: 1-1

Warnings: Blood, death.

Author's Note: It's a bit different than some of the other stuff I've done but I like it. Kind of long for a one-shot but still one. :shrug: Let me know what you think, okay? Thanks!

Hello.

Hello.

My name is Catlynn.

Catlynn Elisabeta Stern.

Would you like to hear a story?

A story?

Not just any story...but a true one?

True...

Very well. If you insist.

Insist. Always insist.

This is the story of a girl.

A girl called Cat.

No interruptions or the story will never end.

Never end.

I'm serious. This girl had dark hair and green eyes. Witch eyes.

Witch.

Yes, now hush. This girl was just a bit...mad.

Mad?

Yes. Mad. As a Hatter.

Strange expression.

It fits the situation.

Finish the story. About Cat.

But it's not a story. Not really.

Just finish it.

But you know it already.

Humor me?

I'm not in the mood to anymore. You caused to many interruptions.

Finish the story.

Fine.

Yumi smiled as she peeked into the room, watching the little girl sleep soundly on the guest bed. She placed a hand to her swollen stomach as Ulrich came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and resting his head on top of hers. The hall light caught on the child's light brown hair which was fanned out around her face and on the teddy bear she clutched in her hand.

"Where on earth...what's her name?" Yumi asked softly, trying to keep the child from waking.

"Cat."

"Cat?"

"Catlynn Elisabeta," he added, murmuring the words against her hair.

"Where did you find her?" Yumi asked, turning in her husband's arms.

"It doesn't matter, does it? The fact is she needed a good home and..." he fumbled for the words, "her parents couldn't care for her. It was a private adoption."

"She's beautiful Ulrich." He smiled as he watched the girl mumble under her breath as she stirred in the unfamiliar room.

"Come on. We should let her sleep."

They left the room, walking downstairs to the living room and Yumi sighed, sitting on the sofa, propping her feet up on the coffee table. She let her head fall back, a soft groan escaping her lips when the baby she was carrying kicked her squarely in the abdomen.

"Definitely takes after you," she sighed. He glanced at her and she smiled. "The baby doesn't play fair," she elaborated. He laughed, sitting next to her. "Just a few more weeks. Can you believe it?"

"Are you sure you're alright with us taking in Cat?"

"I'm sure. She's beautiful." She sighed as he rubbed her shoulders. "Catlynn Elisabeta Stern. Pretty. Did you know her parents?"

"No. No, not really. Not anymore," he said softly.

That's not all.

It's enough.

No. Finish.

I don't want to.

You keep saying that.

Because it's true.

You can't possibly believe that.

I do.

Tell me more about Cat.

There's nothing to tell that you don't know.

Tell anyway.

What do you want to know?

Everything. Finish your story.

"Catlynn! Benjamin! We have visitors, come downstairs!"

Yumi watched as her three-year-old son raced down the stairs, hair in disarray and clothes a mess. She smiled, catching him in her arms and lifting him onto her hip. "Hey Benjy," she ignored Ulrich's wince, "where's your sister?"

"She's upstairs," he told her, then grinned, reaching for their guests. "Auntie A-lita! Uncle Jer-mie!"

"Ulrich will you run upstairs and get Cat?"

He nodded, ascending the stairs and walking down the hall. They had redone the guest bedroom, making it Cat's room. Lavender and green walls with white curtains, rose carpet. A forest painted on one wall, can you see the hidden creatures? When she was younger she'd always sit and watch the walls.

The door was partly closed and he pushed it open all the way when she didn't answer the knock. "Catty?" he called softly, careful not to wake the sleeping child in the cradle. She was sitting at the window, the panes pushed open letting the spring breeze in, long hair blowing around her. Her knees rested on the cushioned bench built into the wall and she leaned over the sill, hand outstretched, fingers splayed, reaching for something he couldn't see.

"Catty!"

She spun to face him, guilt smeared across her face, green eyes level and contemptuous. He walked over to her, pulling her to her feet on the bench. She stared at him evenly as he reached around her and closed the window. "What were you doing? Catlynn look at me! What were you doing?"

"I wanted to play with the fairy."

"The what?"

"The fairy. I just wanted to touch it!"

He looked out the window, then back at her. "Catty, there aren't any fairies outside. I don't know what you thought you saw..."

"No! There was a fairy! You scared him away! She said that they were real!"

"She? Who's she?"

"Lynne my friend."

He frowned, picking her up after making sure that the window was latched tightly. "Don't believe everything Lynne tells you Catty." He checked Alisa, still asleep in her crib, on the way out of the room.

"Why?" she asked him, green eyes staring up at him.

"Some people don't always tell the truth." He carried her downstairs and into the living room. "Here she is!" he exclaimed, swinging her, smiling when she giggled and squealed and Benjamin ran up to him.

He never met Lynne.

He did.

Did he believe her?

No.

Why did you stop?

Does it matter?

You said you wanted to tell a story.

I said I didn't want to anymore.

What is your name?

Catlynn.

What?

It's Catlynn.

Are you sure?

Yes.

Catlynn, what happened to Cat?

"Catlynn Stern? That's an unusual name. Tell us about yourself Miss Stern."

She stood at the front of the classroom, unfamiliar faces stared back at her. Her father had recently been transferred to Norway and she was starting a new school halfway through the year. She smiled brightly, friendly, eyes solemn as she watched them.

"My name is Cat Stern. I live with my mother, father, younger brother and younger sister. We have just moved here from France," she said clearly, slowly, eyes vigilant.

"How wonderful! Did you enjoy France?"

"Very much." She walked down the aisle calmly, sitting in the back of the class, watching the other students. She was twelve years old, halfway through her first year of middle school. Cat watched the other students interact, watching eyes, always watching eyes. The eyes told the most about the soul. You knew when someone was lying.

By watching the eyes.

"Cat, time for dinner!"

Cat looked up from where she sat cross-legged on the rug in the middle of her room. Her own room. She watched the light under her door slowly diminish from the approaching shadow, shrinking out of sight. The door swung open and she saw Alisa gasp, clasping a hand over her mouth.

"What did you do Cat?"

She had saved up her allowance until today when she stopped by the hardware store after school buying the paint she needed. She had painted over the walls, some had dipped onto the carpet, some had rubbed onto the ceiling, decorating them in her own way. Black, green, navy, plum paint covered the walls and you could see faces glistening in the still-wet paint. Her blinds were drawn, curtains pulled. She had been in perfect darkness before the intruder.

"I'm telling mommy!"

She watched as Alisa turned, dashing down the hall to tattle on her to their mother, a faint smile gracing her lips. Her green eyes watched the light play tricks on her outside the safety of her room, watched as Alisa's black hair disappeared down the stairs.

"It's alright," she whispered softly. She stood gracefully and shut the door before returning to her spot. "It's alright now."

Why did she paint the walls?

It was her room.

Why so dark?

To keep out the light.

Why?

You know why.

Refresh my memory.

I don't have to.

But you will.

What makes you think that?

You can't refuse me.

Watch me.

I am. I see nothing.

Look harder.

Why did she want to keep out the light?

Because the light is deceiving.

Why?

Just because.

Why won't you talk to me anymore?

Because there's nothing left to discuss.

I think there is.

You're wrong.

Am I?

Ulrich slowed down and Cat lifted her head, looking at him. They were approaching the cemetery and she narrowed her eyes. "Why are we slowing?" she asked, voice whisper thin, eerie in the night.

He looked over at her, at the little girl he had taken in and cared for so carefully. He sighed. "No reason," he said, stepping on the gas. She watched him gaze at the cemetery as they passed it, eyes straining. "We're going to stop off somewhere before we go home, alright?" She shrugged, biting into a cuticle, eyes darting around the car. "Don't tell your mother?"

"Why?" She lifted her head again, light golden brown hair falling over her shoulders, green eyes piercing his, trying to read his mind.

"Just don't tell her, alright?" She shrugged again, sitting back against the seat, legs drawn up so that her chin rested comfortably on her knees. They passed the cemetery and took a side street making a few turns before pulling up in front of a house she didn't recognize.

"Where are we?"

"Come on." He got out of the car, locking the door and looking at her as she emerged, graceful as always. She was beautiful. He smiled softly at her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they walked up the front steps and rang the doorbell. An elderly man answered the door, looking confused when he saw them.

"Hello. How may I help you?" he asked, green eyes scrutinizing them.

"Mr. Della Robbia, I don't know if you remember me but I'm Ulrich Stern? I was your sons-"

"Ulrich you sure have changed! Of course I remember you. Come in, come in." He ushered them inside the house and then into a small parlor. "Now who is this beautiful young lady?"

Cat glanced at her father questioningly before she ran her eyes over the room, pulling her jacket tighter around herself. There was a fireplace at the other end of the room and she wandered over to it, fingertips brushing the back of the sofa. On the mantle were a collection of photographs and she smiled faintly at the picture of the young blonde boy sticking his tongue out at the camera. The next one was a graduation picture and she could tell it was the same boy, but different. His skin was ash colored and his eyes hollow. The green of his eyes had faded as well. The last one was a picture of him and a young woman with brown hair. The woman was holding a baby in her arms.

"This is Catlynn," Ulrich said.

"Cat," she replied automatically, fingertips brushing the surface of the fireplace. The old man approached her and she spun to face him, arms tight over her chest.

"Hello Cat. It's nice to see you."

"Don't you mean 'meet'?" she asked, backing away from him, eyes darting around the room.

"No, we met when you were younger," he told her softly. She tripped over a rug and flattened herself against the wall. He looked strange, tormented, before swallowing and turning back to her father. "What brings you to Norway?"

"I was transferred here. I passed a cemetery is that where...?"

"Yes. In the back, under the trees."

Ulrich nodded, smiling faintly. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the funeral."

"You wouldn't have wanted to."

Who was the old man?

Mr. Della Robbia. You know that. Why do you keep asking?

Keep asking?

Yes, you do.

Do I?

Why won't you leave me alone!

Because you still need me.

No I don't!

Who was buried in the cemetery?

You know the answer to that as well.

Tell me once more.

Why do I always have to tell you something? Why can't you tell me something once?

What would you like to know?

I don't know.

Let me know when you do. Now. Continue.

Ulrich closed Cat's door softly behind him, walking down the hall to the master bedroom. Yumi was reading in bed and she paused, glancing up at him when he entered. Her face was set and he frowned, walking over to her and sitting on the bed.

"What's wrong?"

"It's Catlynn."

"What about her?" Uncertainty coated his voice and his eyes searched hers.

"Ulrich...where did you get her from?"

"I told you. It was a private adoption. Why?"

She closed the book, setting it on the end table and looked at him strangely. "I accepted that she wanted to paint her room when she got older, I didn't approve, but I accepted it. I accepted her wanting to be called Cat. Benjamin likes Ben and Alisa likes Allie. Not unusual. I even accepted her believing in fairies when she was younger but this..."

"What is it Yumi?" he asked tiredly, getting up and changing. When he turned back she had caught her bottom lip between her teeth, watching him nervously. "Yumi?"

"Ulrich...I walked by her room today and heard her talking to someone. I knocked and she didn't answer. When I opened the door she was in a corner talking to her cupped hands. Alisa says that she does that all the time. Benjamin said that none of the kids at their highschool like to hang out with her."

"She has an active imagination!"

"I want her to see a doctor. A specialist."

"Yumi..."

"I mean it Ulrich."

He jerked awake to the screams, stumbling out of bed, adrenaline pulsing through his veins. Yumi was next to him, tying the sash of her robe tightly as she followed him out of their room. Light pooled downstairs and he saw Benjamin exiting his room.

"Stay here," he told him, running downstairs.

He entered the kitchen and froze, watching as Alisa screamed, trying to wriggle out of Cat's grasp. Blood was spattered around, dribbling off the counter, dripping onto the tile floor, sprayed on the walls. Yumi screamed behind him and he shoved her out of the room, closing the door.

"Cat..." he whispered. "Cat..."

She was holding Alisa by her hair, he didn't see cuts, just saw the running water overflowing the sink where Alisa's face was pushed in. She was flailing, trying to kick off the older girl but still to small at ten to do much to a sixteen-year-old.

"Catlynn!"

She jerked back and Alisa gasped, sputtering, wiping her eyes, stumbling away from the sink and her sister. Her green eyes darted around the room and she ran nervous fingers through her hair and he watched the red smear over her temples and cheeks, hair and forehead as her mouth locked in a frozen scream. She crossed her arms over her chest, rocking back and forth, mumbling to herself, fingers twitching.

"Catty..."

"You freak!" Alisa screamed. "You absolute freak!"

"Alisa." He knelt before her, checking her over. "Go into the living room with your mother and brother."

"She tried to kill me!"

"Just go Allie."

She glowered but left, still breathing hard, still shooting looks over her shoulder at the other girl. He sighed when the door closed, going over and shutting off the water. Cat continued to rock back and forth on her heels, voice rising.

"Cat..."

"No, I said no. Not again."

"Cat."

Listen to me Cat.

"No! You heard her. Can't. Not again. Nuh-uh."

"Catlynn!"

You must Cat. Or the fairies won't play anymore.

"No!"

Yes Cat...yes.

"Catlynn listen to me!" He reached for her arms, trying to see where the blood was coming from.

"Cat! Not Catlynn! Cat! I'm not Lynn!" she screamed, wrenching away from him.

Aren't you? They think you are.

"Catty...listen to me. Catty..."

Listen Cat. Listen. Kitty Cat. Kitty Cat. Listen to me. Have I ever lied.

"Yes!"

"Cat! I need to see your arms. Catlynn Elizabeta!"

You want to see the fairies again don't you?

"Yes."

"Yes? Yes what? Cat give me your arm!" He could hear Yumi calling his name, pounding on the door but he'd locked it once Alisa had left. He could hear sirens approaching. Who had called the police? He grabbed her arm, fingers sinking in the soggy sleeve as he yanked it up, red liquid drenching his fingers. "God Catty..."

God can't help anyone. If you want to see the fairies you must make the sacrifice.

"Leave me alone!"

"I need to bandage your arm. Look at me Cat. Look at me." He gripped her chin with one hand, forcing her eyes to meet his, watching the dull green orbs flicker, trying to lock onto his eyes. "Look at me Cat."

Cat...

"Leave me alone Lynne!" She rocked back and forth hitting her head as hard as she could against the wooden cabinets as he heard the kitchen door splinter as police and paramedics rushed in.

"I'm sorry Cat."

That's not the end either.

How can you tell?

Stories are supposed to have a happy ending.

This one never will.

You don't know that.

Yes I do.

You know they stopped you from making the sacrifice.

They did.

Continue the story please.

No. I don't want to.

He visited you. Didn't he?

Yes.

What happened?

I don't want to..

What happened?

"I'm sorry Catty."

She glanced up tiredly from where she was strapped to the hospital bed. Her green eyes locked with his and he gave her a tired smile, brushing back the hair from her face. He hadn't slept since she was admitted under heavy tranquilization. Yumi had glared at him, demanded to know if he'd known she was capable of this. He hadn't answered.

"What's wrong with me?"

"I'm going to tell you a story."

"No...no stories...answers," she murmured.

"Alright Catty, I'll tell you when you come home?"

"Will I come home?" she asked lazily, eyes rolling in her head, looking around.

"Of course Catty. Of course."

"I'm tired."

"Sleep then," he whispered, holding onto her hand which was fastened to her side, wrist bandaged.

You went home.

Yes.

What was the story?

It doesn't matter now.

Doesn't matter?

No.

It matters to me.

You're just saying that.

I mean it. Tell me.

He stepped onto the patio, smiling when he saw her in one of the over stuffed chairs. Her long hair was pulled back in a single braid that hung heavy down her back, green eyes staring at the greenery just beginning to come out. "What are you looking at?" he asked as he sat down next to her.

"The fairies."

"Where are they?"

"Dancing, in the flowers over there," she murmured, lifting an arm to show him. He winced mentally when he saw the pale scar on the inside of her wrist.

"I see them."

"Do you?"

"Yes. They're beautiful. Just like you."

"Mother doesn't love me anymore. She's afraid of me. That's what Lynne says."

"Do you still talk with Lynne?" She nodded and he sighed, gripping her hand so that she turned to face him. "I need to tell you something Cat. And you need to listen carefully." She nodded again.

"I love you very much Catty. I always have. Ever since I saw you. But your not mine." He paused when she frowned, hand turning cold in his. "You are the daughter of my best friend, Odd Della Robbia."

"The old man's son?" she asked calmly. He nodded this time, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "Then where is he? My real father?"

"He died when you were five."

"But I lived with you. There are pictures of my fourth and fifth birthday parties!"

"Because he gave you up for adoption. He couldn't care for you anymore. I adopted you when you were three."

Her frown deepened and he felt her fingers curling in on themselves. "Why couldn't he care for me? Was he ill?"

"Yes. He had schizophrenia. A severe case of it. And Catty? It was passed on to you."

"I..."

"He killed himself when you were five because the voices told him to. He was my best friend Catty and I had to watch him deteriorate before my eyes and not tell anyone else because he didn't want them to know. I don't want that to happen to you sweetheart. I don't want that to be your fate too."

"My mother...?"

"Died in childbirth."

"My grandfather?"

"He was to old to care for you. He knew. I sent him pictures of you through the years."

"Why did you lie to me all these years!"

"I hoped you'd be normal."

You aren't normal.

I'm not.

You see things others don't.

Witch's eyes.

Witch's eyes.

I inherited them from my father.

But that's not all.

I'm tired.

You completed the sacrifice in the end, didn't you?

Yes.

Is that why there isn't a happy ending?

Yes.

But wouldn't that make it happy? You get to see fairies again.

No. No more.

Why?

I'm really tired. I think I'll take a nap.

Who did you use for the sacrifice?

You.

Ulrich swallowed as he approached the grave, a bouquet of violets in one hand and a bouquet of tiger lilies in the other. He stepped over the frozen ground and stood in front of the headstone, he could sense Yumi watching behind him with the children. He didn't care.

The ground was cold, seeping into his knees and he sighed laying the bouquet of violets on the grown in front of him, tracing his fingers over the letters engraved on the stone. "I'm sorry Odd. I failed you," he whispered. He bowed his head for a moment. "She was beautiful though. Brilliant, just like you. She was an artist. You would've been proud."

He stood slowly, approaching the headstone of the next grave and kneeling before it, placing the lilies on the ground. "Cat...I'm sorry. So sorry. I should've gotten you help sooner but I thought...I thought." He swallowed, running his fingers over her name. She had died at the age of eighteen, killing herself, giving in. A month shy of the thirteenth anniversary of her father's death.

He sat back on his heels, watching the wind blow lightly at the flowers, trying to scatter the petals on the frozen earth. He looked at the two graves. Father and daughter. "I'm sorry," he whispered as he stood and walked away from them.