Author's Note:
This chapter contains angst and evidence of primary stages of the Duncan Syndrome. What is the Duncan Syndrome, you ask? Well, I'll explain it to you in layman's terms (since that's all there really is for it anyway). The syndrome is named after a certain angsty immortal who is the main character in Highlander: the Series. Duncan MacLeod, the patient in question, exhibits incredible amounts of angst over past sins and regret over things which are not entirely his fault. He has a strict moral code and tends to divide the world into good and evil. He takes the responsibility fully upon his shoulders to protect all the good in the world and personally destroy the evil. When he fails to do one or the other, he becomes broody, inconsolably guilt-ridden and occasionally even self-destructive. Sound familiar to anyone? Does it describe many a favorite broody hero character?
Now, Amon doesn't necessarily fit the description entirely, but he does exhibit some symptoms of the syndrome--such as dividing the world into good and evil, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera . . .
Yet, now that I'm thinking about it, I'm wondering if I should rename the Duncan Syndrome the "Arrowin Syndrome," since I have created a character in my original fiction (named Arrowin, duh) that pretty much epitomizes the syndrome in every way. Ah, but that question is for another time, I suppose. Enjoy the chapter.
Chapter 12
The Boss is Back and You're Gonna be in Trouble
Rubbing his shoulder where Zaizen had thrown him against the wall, Michael plodded down the stairs from the Director's office with a surly expression twisting his face. He was going to have a few bruises from Zaizen's punishment for--well, he wasn't really sure why he had been punished, but he supposed it didn't really matter. Zaizen was the one in control here, and if he wanted to continue living, he had to suck it up and keep his mouth shut. Muttering to himself about the unfairness of it all, he heard a soft shuffle of feet and looked up in surprise to see Amon standing in the middle of the office with a woman Michael had never seen before thrown over his shoulder.
Karasuma peeked out from behind Amon. "Michael?" Michael turned the bruised side of his face away from the light, but he wasn't quick enough. "Are you hurt?"
"I t-tripped on the stairs," he bit off.
She touched his face gently before he could evade her and she cried out in shock and dismay. He pulled away from her roughly and headed for his desk. He knew she had just scryed him. She had seen exactly what had happened in that office. "Michael!" she cried. "What--"
"Don't say it!" Michael snapped back, feeling hot tears filling his eyes as he slumped down his chair and reached for his earphones, determined to forget the experience as quickly as possible. He glanced over at Amon who was staring off into the shadowy corner of the office with an expression of what looked like panic. Pushing his glasses up on his nose, Michael looked closer at the man. He'd never seen such an expression on Amon's face before. Turning on his heel, Amon headed for the elevator without a word, still carrying the unconscious woman.
"Amon?" Karasuma inquired in confusion.
"What is the meaning of this?" Zaizen's words froze everyone in their tracks as he appeared at the doorway which led up to his office. "Amon. Who--" His eyes widened and fury crossed his features like a swiftly moving storm. "Touko?!"
Amon did not move. Michael strained in his chair so that he could just make out the "deer in the headlights" look on the enigmatic hunter's face, which was also an expression he had never seen Amon make before. He then returned his gaze to Zaizen who was still glowering so angrily Michael swore he could see the steam rising off of him.
"She fainted," Karasuma explained calmly, though Michael knew from what Robin had told him on the phone that Touko had most likely had some assistance in losing consciousness.
"Then put her down on the couch," Zaizen stated as if his solution was so obvious it would take an idiot not to think of it. "Don't just keep carrying her around like a sack of potatoes." Amon did as he was told expressionlessly, crossing the room to the couch. Zaizen helped him situate Touko and cursed when he placed her head on the pillow. Glaring accusatorily at Amon, he growled, "There's a huge bump on the back of her head."
Amon simply stared back at him, still without expression, his face incredibly pale. Karasuma answered for him once again, lying so smoothly Michael wanted to believe her despite the fact he knew it was a fabrication. "She hit her head on a chair when she fainted. Amon tried to catch her, but he didn't reach her in time."
Zaizen stood up slowly, brushing his coat off. "Always too late, aren't you Amon? At least anymore. And where have you been while this 'demon hunter' Michael told me about has been infiltrating the office?"
Michael cringed at the way Zaizen made it sound as if he had volunteered the information. Amon continued to remain silent, his face a mask. Karasuma opened her mouth again to answer. "Amon's been--"
"Can he not answer for himself?!" Zaizen barked and Karasuma jumped. He seemed so human as he glanced down at Touko and smoothed her hair away from her face tenderly. But when he looked back up at Amon, the darkness in his eyes seemed almost demonic. "In my office. Now." He turned on his heel, obviously expecting Amon to follow.
Amon watched him go for a moment, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.
"Amon," Karasuma whispered, but he ignored her, loosening the fists his hands had turned into and following the Director up the stairs, his strides a little shaky.
"There goes punching bag number two," Michael muttered. "Fresh out of the hospital too . . ."
"Michael," Karasuma began, turning to face him with anxiety, "How long has--"
"Please," Michael interrupted with anger entering his voice, "I really don't want to talk about it."
Silence fell as Karasuma struggled with the temptation to find another way to phrase her question and frame her concerns. Then, the elevator door opened and Sakaki and Doujima spilled out, arguing about something unimportant, as usual. Michael had to do a double take when he saw the girl following along behind them. "Robin?!" Warm green eyes met his own as he looked on in amazement, and he knew for certain it was her. "Wow . . ." He found himself at a loss for words.
"My, don't you look cute," Karasuma complimented, stopping Robin with a light touch on her shoulder so she could look at her. "What's the occasion?"
"Some jerk in a Porsche couldn't slow down long enough to avoid the puddle on the side of the road," Doujima replied, smiling tightly. "We were both soaked with mud. Rescue clothes were required."
"I see." Karasuma glanced with a raised eyebrow. "That must have been quite the adventure."
Michael saw Robin cross the room toward him and hid the bruised side of his face quickly, leaning against his hand, elbow propped up on his desk. He returned her gaze with a smile as she approached, unable to get over her new appearance, and tried desperately to come up with something intelligent to say. That queasy feeling of excitement washed over him again as she came to a stop in front of him, followed quickly by disappointment when she spoke. "Is Amon here, Michael?" She seemed vaguely worried, and he wondered if she was worried about Amon's absence or worried about his possible presence.
"Yeah," Doujima joined in with a wink, overhearing her. "I can't wait to see the look on Amon's face when he sees Robin." Pouting, she added, "I kind of missed his expression at the party . . . but I think he was a little distracted at the time anyway."
Karasuma exchanged a somber look with Michael. "He may still be a bit distracted." She nodded in the direction of the couch.
Doujima hid behind Sakaki when she saw Touko. "Whoa, shouldn't we be doing something about her? Like tying her up or something? I think I kind of pissed her off last time I saw her and . . . I'm too young to die!"
"I don't think tying her up would be such a good idea," Michael commented sourly. "Not unless you want to get next in line for Zaizen's office. I think Amon's currently paying for the bump on the back of her head." He knew he shouldn't have said it out loud, but he also knew that most of them probably didn't have a clue what he was really talking about. Scratching his head, he added softly, "Though I don't know how the Director even knows Touko, or why he cares . . . not that it matters anyway. The end result is pretty much the same." Robin's eyebrows had furrowed as she listened to him, giving him the uneasy suspicion she had seen the bruise he was trying to hide.
"Well, this is all just great!" Doujima sulked. "I'm going out." She reached for her purse.
Suddenly the phone rang, interrupting Michael's thoughts as he desperately searched for an excuse for his bruise, knowing Robin was working herself up to asking the question. Dante was at the other end of the line when he picked it up. "Hey, Mike, could you send someone down to open the door for us? Trish and I are almost to your office."
"Um . . ." Michael gazed off toward Zaizen's office before replying. "I don't think you want to come by here right now. The Director just got back and he's . . . well he's not too happy with us for letting you in without authorization. Anyway, maybe everybody could meet you somewhere?"
"Sure. I guess . . . You have someplace in mind?"
"There's this place everyone hangs out at a lot. It's called Harry's . . ." After Michael had given Dante directions and they had hung up, he looked up at his companions who were all watching him intently--all except for Robin who was now looking anxiously at the stairs to Zaizen's office. "He says he's on his way to Harry's. I hope it was all right for me to suggest it. . ."
Karasuma shrugged. "We certainly can't meet him here."
"And he knows more about this witch than we do," Sakaki added.
"Well, we'd better get going," Doujima chanted eagerly in a singsong voice, already halfway to the door. "You guys coming?"
"Someone should stay behind and wait for Amon . . ." Robin murmured.
"I'll be here," Michael reminded her, wishing more than anything that he could go with them. It was so frustrating to always be the one left behind.
"Robin," Doujima said firmly. "Remember what we talked about?"
"I know, but . . ." Doujima's glare stopped her. Finally, Robin nodded in submission, rising to her feet slowly and following after Doujima. What was that all about? Michael wondered.
Sakaki trailed after the two not far behind, but Karasuma hesitated, turning to Michael. Feeling a blush on his cheeks, Michael looked away. "Michael . . . if you need anything . . . just let me know. Okay?" Michael nodded silently.
Turning up his music when he was alone again, Michael tried to drown out his memories, focusing on scouring the Internet for more clues on their target witch's whereabouts. According to what Zaizen had mentioned in between blows, his summons to HQ had actually concerned the witch they were already hunting, and he had returned so quickly because they wanted him on the scene with all the information. This witch was even more dangerous than they had thought it seemed, and they needed to catch her before all hell broke loose--literally.
A few minutes after everyone had left, Michael heard footsteps stomping down the steps and glanced up to see Zaizen cross the room to Touko. He knelt down beside her and murmured something to her inert form before scooping her up in his arms and heading for the elevator. Michael was relieved to see the Director was completely ignoring him.
But where was Amon? Worry ate at Michael's resolve to not care too much about their unapproachable leader, but his anger at Amon's treatment of Robin was not enough to keep him from sympathizing with the man. He knew all too well what a power trip Zaizen got out of abusing his underlings. Besides, Amon had been receiving the abuse almost as long as Michael had, and that common suffering had created a kind of bond between them in the past.
He had almost convinced himself to run up to the office just to make sure Amon was still alive considering the length of time he had been missing, when he heard soft footsteps making their way down the stairs . . . with a limp. Michael stopped typing, pulling his earphones out of his ears and watching the doorway intently. Amon finally exited, his eyes downcast, his hair a tangled mess and blood trailing down his chin from a cut on his lip. He threw a glance in the direction of the couch where Touko had been laying before sighing with relief. Touching his lip gingerly to see if it was still bleeding, he looked up at Michael, his eyes even darker than normal.
"Where did Karasuma go?" Amon inquired without a hint of inflection in his voice, sliding his hands through his hair and attempting to put it in order.
"To Harry's with everyone else."
Amon's eyes narrowed. "Are they celebrating something?"
Michael winced. He hadn't even expected that conclusion, though he knew how Amon felt. Zaizen had just torn his pride into little tiny pieces and stomped around on them while the rest of his coworkers had wandered off to a bar to have a drink and relax? It was an easy assumption to make when you felt lower and more abused than a doormat. "No. They went there so they could meet with Dante and plan their next move in finding Beatrice." Michael knew the real explanation wouldn't make Amon much happier than his false assumption, but he decided truth was the best option anyway.
Amon's expression was hard to read as he looked away, pain burning in his eyes. "Hmm. I suppose I'm not really needed then. That's good. It will give me a chance to go home and take a shower." He glanced down at his rumpled clothes and emotions raged across his face for a moment before he regained control. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
"They do need you," Michael said resolutely suddenly, surprising even himself. He wasn't sure what inspired him to attempt putting Amon back together right now, but he suspected it had something to do with the fact that it scared the shit out of him to think Amon--Amon, of all people--could be falling apart like this. Amon was generally as unchanging and unflappable as a rock, but something had fractured him recently, and the cracks were spreading wider. Michael decided he needed Amon to be a rock. His stubbornness and coldness might be annoying at times, but if Amon was turning into quicksand then something was no longer right with the world. It was Michael's responsibility to keep the world from coming unhinged. It was his duty to put Humpty Dumpty back together again. All the same, he thought it might be best to keep the childhood rhyme analogy to himself.
Amon was looking at him curiously. "Why do you say that?"
"Oh come on, Amon! You're the glue that holds this group together. You know that. Without you they lack direction and leadership. They look up to you, and trust you to make the important decisions when no one else can--because they believe in you."
Shaking his head slightly, Amon replied, "I don't know what they're believing in, Michael." He turned slowly toward the door.
Remembering the comment he had made to Robin on the phone about wanting to replace Amon with Dante, Michael felt an intense wave of guilt. What a hypocrite he was. "Still . . ." he said, uncertain how to convince Amon when he had judged him so harshly himself, "you should go to Harry's. They're expecting you to come. They won't make any final decisions without you."
Amon paused in his progress toward the door. "Why shouldn't they? They have a leader with them who can direct them just as easily."
Desperately, Michael pulled out the last card in his hand, knowing it would hurt him to say, but knowing it was what Amon needed to hear. His voice was soft in the silence as he observed, "Robin will be sad if you don't come. And she will be worried about you." Amon didn't look convinced as he glanced back at him. "I was kind of jealous of you for awhile, you know. I kept hoping Robin felt the same way about me as I've been beginning to feel about her, but I'm starting to realize that Robin doesn't care for me as anything other than a friend. But you . . . she worships the ground you walk on."
"I think . . ." Amon sighed, his voice sounding ragged, "that you may have been right about that at one time. But, now I think she's finally learning the ground isn't so sacred after all. It's a good thing she's finally coming to her senses." He glanced back over his shoulder again, though this time his face was too shadowed for Michael to read. "It may not be as impossible as you think for her to care for you." Slipping his hands into the pockets of his coat, he continued walking toward the elevator. "Goodnight, Michael."
Michael frowned as Amon's dark form disappeared. This wasn't right. It wasn't right at all. The world was coming unhinged and he had failed to stop it.
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Incidentally, the lie Karasuma made up about Touko fainting and hitting her head on a chair was something that actually happened to me. Let me tell you, the bump on the back of my head hurt like hell too.
Thanks for reading. Next chapter coming soon--though I haven't decided on a name for it yet. I look forward to reading your reviews! Feedback is very useful to me, so continue to feel free to let me know what you think, positive or negative.
Until next time!
