Disclaimer: Still don't own anything -sigh- Lucky them.
WARNING: scenes of violence.
Chapter Two: No Regrets?
Locke the Echidna yawned as he turned all the surveillance screens off one by one. His fathers were long asleep, and he figured out it was time for him to go to bed as well. After all, even a Guardian had to sleep sometimes.
The day's events had him completely exhausted; in fact he had done more things in a day than in six months. Talk about a change of pace! Seriously now, Locke loved his son, but he couldn't help but wonder how the boy could be so hyper at times. Maybe Athair is wearing off on him, who knows. As long as Knuckles doesn't do cartwheels and eat sugar, it'll be fine.
More importantly, now, he had had the chance to spend the day in Lara's company. Gentle and lovely Lara. He knew there was no way on Mobius they would get back together, but at least he had let her know that he still loved her. That and her being close to him was enough for Locke. She was happy, and he had his dreams. That's one anniversary I won't forget anytime soon!
Locke paused, his finger hovering over the button when he was about to turn the last computer screen off. Could he- no that wouldn't be appropriate, especially after today. But still, his mind burned to see Lara one last time before going to bed. Indulging himself, Locke tipped Lara's apartment's frequency on the keyboard, making the mental promise to go to sleep right after seeing his ex-wife.
The image came on, and there she was. Lying peacefully asleep in her bed, a half-smile paying on her lips. She must be dreaming, Locke thought. He then noticed something: she was alone. No Wynmacher to be seen anywhere. That's strange. Well I take it he hasn't come back from work yet.
Locke dropped that thought as he observed the beautiful female on the screen. He smiled as he saw her roll on her side and snuggle up with her pillow; how he longed to be by her side, in this bed, just holding her and smelling her sweet scent. He would have killed to be that pillow. But she's got another man, now, and if she's happy with him then so be it. She deserves to be happy. Still it hurt to watch her like this, as if the sight of her let alone her presence was forbidden to Locke. It felt even worse after all that had happened during the day.
Then Locke was hit by a thought he had had all along, but had never found a way to express till then: I miss her.
The cold feeling in his heart, the empty space in his chest. She was it, she was the missing part. And the worst of all was that he knew, no matter what he would say or do, he couldn't get her back. That was what he had got to face, and it maddened him. But at least now he knew they were on good terms, so new opportunities offered themselves to him. Maybe I'll visit her tomorrow and ask her out for a walk.
Having now found a good reason to get up the following morning, Locke muttered a "Goodnight Lara," and turned the screen off. He got up from his chair and stretched out, his limbs half-asleep. Locke then got out from the surveillance room and walked in the dark corridor towards his quarters. Maybe we could go rollerblading again. She seemed to have fun this morning. He smiled, the memory coming back to him. His heart burned to squeeze her hand once again and whisper comforting words in her ear.
By the time he finished pondering about it, he was in front of his bedroom. He was about to open the door when he saw something move in the shadows from the corner of his eye. Not fearing anything, he turned around.
Imagine his surprise when he saw a rather angry-looking Wynmacher standing there, arms crossed and frowning. Locke's first instinct was to ask: "How did you get in there?"
Wynmacher shrugged as if it has been the easiest thing in the world. "I found your entrance code in one of Lara's drawers. Simple as that." His face darkened. "Which code, now that I think of it, had nothing to do there." Locke was about to object but the brown echidna held a hand up. That's when Locke noticed Wynmacher was slightly swaying on his feet. "Before you ask, I'll tell you. I'm here to teach you a lesson you aren't about to forget."
Locke frowned, now confused. He didn't budge as Wynmacher approached him, expecting some angry words as usual because that's what the younger one always did. But when he was within punching range, Locke realized Wynmacher's breath reeked of alcohol, which could explain the swaying. Uh-oh, this could turn out bad… very bad. The red Guardian did something he had never done before: he tried to reason his rival. "Listen here, Wynmacher, you're not in your normal state and-"
"Shut up you bastard!" the brown echidna barked right before his fist shot forwards. Locke dodged the hit, taking several steps back. "You've ruined Lara's life!"
Locke hadn't the time to ask for further explanations as Wynmacher went on. "All along I did my best to protect her, comfort her, and heal her from all the things you did to her! Sadly she loved you, Locke, and still does, but she was slowly getting over it till you came up and acted all sweet with her! Why can't you just leave her alone? You've ruined her life, you've ruined all of my efforts, and you're going to pay for it!"
Locke barely had time to register what his young rival had said before he took the full impact of Wynmacher's fist against his face. His head jerked aside from the momentum, his features crisped in pain. What does he think he is doing? I guess he didn't take that well that Lara spent the day with me. Still, if he wasn't drunk, I wouldn't find this situation possible.
Locke managed to catch his balance again and turned to his adversary; many thoughts rang through his mind as he saw Wynmacher charging. What can I do, now? I can't use my powers; after all he isn't a real enemy. But I can't fight him either, he is Lara's husband and isn't in his normal state. As Locke was pondering Wynmacher had reached him, and had punched him the stomach. Locke toppled over, landing on his back on the cold metal floor. He moaned in pain.
"Already tired, Locke?" Wynmacher asked dangerously.
The red Guardian turned his icy-blue eyes towards him. Two can play at this game, Wynmacher. Maybe you're not normal, but it won't be said I hadn't warned you! Locke jumped to his feet and kicked Wynmacher's legs from under him. As the young one fell Locke stood up and looked down at him. "Now listen, Wynmacher. You're drunk, you're overreacting, and you need rest. Now go home. I don't want to fight you."
"Too bad!" Wynmacher jumped, hands extended in front of him. He caught Locke by the waist and the two males toppled on the floor, growling and tussling to get on top. Wynmacher enclosed his hands around Locke's throat, wanting to strangle the red echidna to death. Struggling to get some air, Locke lashed out at Wynmacher's face in a desperate attempt to free himself. He managed to slash the brown echidna's face, and at the same time ripped one of the black rings he wore on his spines off.
Wynmacher released the death grip he had on Locke's throat, bringing a hand to his face. Locke took advantage of it and used his feet to throw Wynmacher away from him. He fell a little further, and as soon as he gained his feet he attacked Locke again. He bit the red one's shoulder as the echidna was going to punch him, and Locke yelped as blood began to seep through his lab coat. He shoved Wynmacher away, and the battle went on.
The fight has lasted for at least a good half-hour now. The battle had led the fighters far from their starting point, to a part of Haven that was rarely used by its occupants: the ship bay. Shuttles and hovercrafts were stored there; they weren't that much used since the Dark Legion was rather peaceful these days. And I wondered how my fathers could sleep through the commotion we're making, Locke thought. Now there are even less chances they'll wake up at all.
Locke tried to dodge Wynmacher's next attack, but failed as his badly injured leg gave out and he tripped. This gave the brown echidna time to act, and soon they were face-to-face, their fingers entwined together in a vicious grip as they pushed to make the other fall. Locke's nose almost touched Wynmacher's, and the red one winced. First in disgust as he smelled alcohol through his young rival's bared teeth, and second in pain because Wynmacher had hit his injured leg. "Giving up, now are we?" the brown one growled, a smirk on his lips.
"In your dreams," Locke hissed back. He gathered his strength and pushed Wynmacher away. The Guardian was divided between running away and using his powers to beat Wynmacher to death. The first choice would make him a coward, the second a murderer. That was when he realized he could do none.
Wynmacher recovered quickly from Locke's shove; his anger and the alcohol running in his bloodstream gave him the strength to put past his injuries whereas Locke was exhausted because of the day's events. He strode up to his adversary and punched Locke under the chin; the red echidna felt his teeth shake from the impact as well as he could now taste blood in his mouth. He took several steps back but didn't fall; he then brought a red-stained gloved hand to his nose and whipped the blood that flowed out of it. Locke didn't know if he could hold on much longer at this rate.
He couldn't help but back up as Wynmacher advanced towards him. What now? He has to be in the same bad shape as me, but he still has energy. I would have, too, if I used my powers but I can't. What now? Edmund help me. Locke couldn't help a yelp of pain as Wynmacher punched his ribcage; there was a sickening cracking sound, and Locke knew something has been broken. He even felt it as he began to run out of air. Dear Aurora, what's happening to me!
Locke stumbled, leaning against a wall for support as he tried to catch his breath. Wynmacher's punch had probably damaged his lungs, which meant he only had a few hours left to get medical attention if he wanted to survive. Locke's field of vision blurred; he saw a brown silhouette as Wynmacher walked over to him.
The brown echidna was still fuming, and the furious glint in his eyes meant he wasn't about to leave Locke alone. I'm going to beat him, Wynmacher thought angrily. I'm going to show him what happens when he messes with Lara! He accompanied his thoughts with a powerful punch to Locke's jaw, which sent him stumbling backwards. A triumphal grin broke on Wynmacher's face-
then he noticed the stairs behind Locke.
Those were the stairs leading down to the ships and the landing platform. They were plain metallic steps, sharp and grey steps. And Locke was heading right towards them.
But before Wynmacher could decide on what to do, Locke lost his balance and fell. Downstairs. To the brown echidna it took him hours to hit every step and crash on the ground down the stairs. There were tearing and cracking sounds, but strangely enough no screams. Locke knew they were useless.
When silence returned in the ship bay, Wynmacher brought himself to approach the stairs. What he saw then sobered him up and made all of his anger vanish. There was so much blood everywhere! The red liquid was giving off a dark glint against metal, a sinister announce of what had taken place.
Then there was Locke. Lying on his side on the floor, bathing in a pool of his own blood, the Guardian was lifeless. His lab coat and his fur were a mess of mixed blood and sweat, and from where he stood Wynmacher could see no rising and falling of his chest. Locke wasn't breathing. The full impact of what he had done hit Wynmacher: he had killed a Guardian. He had killed the person Lara loved.
A moan jerked him out of his thoughts. He couldn't tell if he was relieved or angered to see Locke open an eye weakly. Now he had no time to waste; Locke was soon going to die from lack of air, or loss of blood. But Wynmacher was too frightened to do anything but think of all the explanations he'd have to give were he caught in this predicament. The young echidna then did the only thing his mind told him to do.
He turned heels and ran out of Haven, leaving Locke to die behind him.
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4 a.m.
Lara-Le couldn't sleep. She kept on wondering what Wyn was doing. I just hope he's not out doing something stupid. She rolled on her back and looked at the alarm clock on her nightstand. He's been gone for five hours now. Why hasn't he come back? Surely he isn't that angry. Pretty ironic, how when one opens up, the other vanishes. I guess the saying is right, good things never come unaccompanied.
Lara sighed and sat up in her nightgown, leaning against the headboard while getting the pillow out from under her. She wanted to get her mind off Wyn for some time, so she began thinking about Locke.
She remembered the love in his bright blue eyes as he handed the roses to her. His soft smile as he patiently taught her to rollerblade, his gentle touch as he prevented her fall. She could still smell his fresh scent and hear his clear laugh rang through her ears. Lara smiled and hugged her pillow to her chest, wishing it could turn into Locke. It's a wonder how he changed. He seems to have grown more communicative, I suppose thanks to Knuckles. Why couldn't he be like this when we were married…
Lara shook her head, instead turning her attention to the red roses in the blue vase on her nightstand. She smiled softly and reached out to stroke a petal. The proof that Locke still loved her. She knew the divorce hurt him deeply, and so she was surprised to see that he still had feelings for her. She also knew they were doing themselves emotional harm by holding on the past. Locke… why do you have to be so stubborn? Lara had once asked him that one question when they were young and dating. He'd just smiled and answered: "Because that's part of the reason you love me so much," before kissing her.
Lara smiled in spite of herself at the memory. Yes, that was a part of him she had learned to dislike and love at the same time. That was when she voiced the nagging thought she had kept hidden for so long. "I still love you too, Locke."
She barely had the time to register that she had said that out loud when the door opened suddenly. Lara started and sat up immediately, her hands gripping the sheets in fright. "Who's there?" she asked quietly.
"It's me," a grumpy voice answered. Lara felt relief wash over her as she recognized Wyn's voice, and couldn't help but wonder at the angry tone she sensed in it.
Lara turned the light on and was about to ask him where he has been when she saw him. His clothes were torn apart, and many gashes covered his head, some deep and surrounded with black. Lara noticed with fright that his gloved hands were covered in blood, and that he was staggering rather than walking. When he took notice of her gaping at him, he groaned. "Damn it," Wyn whispered.
Lara was instantly on her feet and by his side. "What happened?" she asked, putting a comforting hand on his arm. Her anger at him for their argument hours ago melted away, replaced by concern.
Wyn brushed her hand away impatiently. "Nothing," he said. "I just walked by a bar when a brawl broke out. I got dragged in the fight, no big deal." He tried to look cool about it; Lara could see it right through him. There was something else.
"Is that all? Then why is there blood on your gloves?" she asked.
"I tried to stop my wounds from bleeding, and ended up with my gloves drenched, that's why," he answered, his voice slightly wavering. For one long minute, he thought Lara wouldn't buy his story, but to his surprise she smiled kindly.
"My poor Wyn," she whispered, before hugging him. She felt him stiffen in her arms, and took it he hasn't fully recovered from the brawl he had been in. Lara stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, when she smelled something she would have never thought she would smell from him. His breath reeked of alcohol. "Are you sure you just walked by the bar, Wyn?" she asked suspiciously, drawing away from him.
Wyn was shifting his weight on his feet, looking nervous. "Well, you see…" he stammered, stumbling on his own words.
Lara frowned, crossing her arms in front of her. "Tell me the truth, Wyn. What were you doing in that bar?"
"This is none of your business," he growled dangerously, and his change of attitude surprised Lara. One second ago he was nervous and unsure, and now his eyes were glowing with anger. Oh she just knew it: he was hiding something from her. "After all you don't seem to mind spending the entire day with that bastard without letting me know about it, so why couldn't I do whatever I want without you knowing?"
"Is that it? You're still angry at Locke? Let me tell you this is kind of stupid for a man of your age to behave like this," Lara said. "I'd thought you would be more understanding-"
"I've tried to understand you, Lara, but I'm unable to! You divorce willingly with the man who hurt you, and then you tell me you love him! Make up your mind, damn it!" And with these last words Wyn stormed out of the bedroom and in the bathroom.
Lara was startled by her husband's words, and as the bathroom's door slammed shut, she sat on her bed and hugged her pillow once again. She knew Wyn's story about the brawl wasn't true. What in the world happened?
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Chest slowly, ever so slowly rising and falling, seeming to breath the peace out and the pain in. He could see nothing but red and black mixed together, could feel nothing but the pain. Every single broken bone in his body, every single drop of blood flowing from his gashes. Was he dead already? No, he wasn't that lucky; fate wouldn't even allow him to pass out.
Even keeping his eyes opened has become a real challenge. A passer-by would have thought he was dead. Not that anyone would see me, though. I have the extreme luck to find myself in the most abandoned place of Haven. I'll be long dead when my fathers will find me.
To think he couldn't even sigh. He couldn't afford to abandon the fight now. He knew death was lurking in his sleep and pain in his consciousness. But he'd have to endure till his fathers come and rescue him. But as for now, breathe Locke the Echidna.
Breathe and live.