Author's Note:

I really am evil. It's been a little while since I updated . . . and after a cliffhanger too. crawls under rug and scurries around in circles like the lady who runs the hot springs in Fruit's Basket GOMEN NASAI!!!!

Oh well, if you're reading this now then you must have forgiven me enough to bother reading more. :) Now for the excuses. Can't exactly blame my muses since I have been somewhat inspired lately. Unfortunately, I've been unable to get any inspiration out of my head and into a tangible form. It doesn't help that much of my inspiration has been directed in a different direction either . . . But enough apologizing! On with the story!

A little warning though: this chapter has a bit of that fantasy violence I mentioned in the beginning of this story. Reader discretion is advised. Please, if someone has a problem with the rating of my fic, let me know and I will change it rather than deal with the hassle of having to make a new account and repost everything after its been deleted. I just felt the need to mention this with all the crazy sudden deletions going on lately on the website. Don't Strong Bad my story!

Chapter 21

Inferno: Part Two

Her body was no longer under her control.

Swaying, she lost her balance but felt gentle arms catch her, holding her safe. Breath came desperately into her lungs, but she couldn't seem to get enough to satisfy her body's need for air. Before she knew what was happening, she felt herself reaching for her craft against her will and summoning fire to use against the kind embrace keeping her on her feet. No! Michael! The words went no farther than her mind.

She heard him scream, but the sound had become slurred in her ears and her vision had blurred, ghostly images dancing in front of her as she turned away and walked toward the elevator, unable to stop her feet from moving. The crystal burned in her hand, and she felt it tugging her onward as if it connected her directly to whoever had control over her with an invisible string.

--------

"Would you shut up already, Sakaki?" Doujima hissed, attempting to stop the stupid otaku's incessant humming under his breath. "We're trying not to be heard, remember?"

"I can't help it," Sakaki whispered back. "Sneaking around this place reminds me of infiltrating Shinra Tower in Final Fantasy VII, and the music just popped into my head. Then 'Underneath the Rotting Pizza' came to mind and I couldn't help but start humming it too."

"What was that about a rotting pizza?" Doujima asked uncertainly as she looked back at him after hopping around a corner of the building dramatically and leveling her orbo gun at the empty air in front of her.

"That's the name of the track that plays when you're wandering around Wall Market," Sakaki answered with a disgusted shake of his head--apparently at her lack of video game knowledge. "You should just be happy the song from the Gold Saucer or the Bumblebee Manor didn't get stuck in my head. Give me a kazoo and I could reproduce just about every song from Final Fantasy VII. But my rendition of Aeris' theme could make even the coldest man feel sorrow."

Sighing, Doujima peeked around another corner at the side entrance of the theater and muttered under her breath, "You are such a freak, Sakaki. You might as well be talking a different language."

"I'm a freak?" Sakaki snapped back, following her down the alley and sweeping his gaze and his gunpoint across the length of the shadowy passage. "You're the one wearing sunglasses at night."

"For the last time, they're only a fashion accessory," Doujima growled. "I can see perfectly well with them on, even in the dark."

"Yeah, and that's not weird in the least," he scoffed. "Really, wearing pink sunglasses on a hunt . . ."

"Are you as colorblind as you are stupid? They're not pink--I left the pink pair at home. These are red to match my shirt." She gestured to her incredibly cute strawberry shortcake t-shirt.

"Isn't red usually a little darker? You know, with a little less white in it?"

"Fine! So they're . . . lightish red, but they're still red!"

Sakaki nearly choked on a laugh. "'Hate to break it to you, but there's already a color for lightish red. It's called pink!'" he chortled in a tone of voice that implied he was quoting from something, though Doujima didn't recognize the reference.

She spun around to glower at him. "You are so annoying!"

Sakaki replied with a smug smile. "You didn't find me so annoying a little while ago when we were back in the car."

"I was bored," Doujima retorted, feeling her cheeks coloring with the memory in spite of herself. "And your mouth was occupied with a less annoying activity." Spinning back to face the theater's side entrance, Doujima reached for the handle only to jump back in surprise as the door flew open suddenly, revealing an angry and disheveled Karasuma. Doujima noted in concern that the older hunter's clothes were rent in a few places and dark liquid edged the tattered fabric.

Glaring at both of them with equal measure, Karasuma demanded, "What are you two doing out here? How long have you been standing out here prattling like grade schoolers while Trish and I have been fighting for our lives?"

"Are you okay, Miho?" Doujima asked in worry, looking more closely at the slashed fabric of the woman's right sleeve.

"I'll be fine." Karasuma leaned back against the wall behind her for support as Sakaki slipped into the hallway beyond her. Doujima followed him reluctantly, recoiling when she saw the dark liquid and strange amorphous shapes clinging to the walls and ceiling of the dark hallway. "What happened?" she breathed.

"Creatures--demonic . . . things," Karasuma managed to explain haltingly. "They came swarming through that door." She pointed at the ragged opening at the end of the hall which no longer resembled a doorway. "The orbo hardly made them pause. If Trish hadn't been here, I don't think I still would be."

"Well, it's not like I had much choice on where I was," Trish commented sourly, looking at her with a wry smile. "My feet are still glued to the floor." Her clothing wasn't torn, and she had sustained no injuries Doujima could see, yet she looked more exhausted than Karasuma as she swayed slightly on her feet. Doujima watched with a strange twinge of jealousy as Sakaki caught the wavering blonde and helped her regain her balance.

Distracting herself from the unexplainable emotion the scene invoked, Doujima observed that the carnage on the walls went no farther than the spot where Trish stood, implying the demon hunter had held off the attackers herself, though Doujima didn't have a clue as to how she could have accomplished such a super human feat. "How did you fight off all those . . . things?" Doujima asked as she approached them carefully, stepping over the slick spots on the floor nimbly in her stylish high heels.

"Yes," Karasuma echoed. "That lightning you used--why didn't you tell us you were a craft user?"

"This conversation sounds familiar," Trish muttered. "I didn't tell you because I'm not a craft user," she explained reluctantly, leaning against Sakaki on one side and gesturing with her free arm. "I'm like Dante."

"A demon," Karasuma concluded quietly. "I see . . ."

"Well, shouldn't we be looking for the others?" Doujima asked impatiently, not really caring what Trish was so long as she stopped hanging on Sakaki. She and Trish already had a lot in common, but there were some things Doujima did not want to share, even if she would have never admitted her feelings out loud.

"Amon told us to retreat," Sakaki reminded her with irritating efficiency.

"We have to find Robin," Doujima snapped back.

"Robin's here?" Karasuma cried in surprise.

"Yeah," Sakaki answered with a shrug. "She showed up looking like a zombie--for a second I thought we were in Raccoon City. Amon went after her, but he sent us to find you two and bring you out," Sakaki answered. "He didn't seem too hopeful about being able to save Robin."

"Dante's still in here somewhere," Trish reminded. "We need to find him too--before he lives down to my expectations and does something stupid."

"First, we need to find a way to get you out of this hallway," Karasuma observed with a frown, looking up at the faintly glowing ring of runes on the ceiling above Trish.

Sakaki looked up in panic and Doujima nearly laughed out loud at the look on his face. "I'm stuck now too," he yelped when he tried to move his feet and failed.

Remembering something Robin had said when they were examining the Ogham wheel at that witch's apartment the day before, Doujima looked up at the circle and considered her options. Robin said the lines in the wood floor had disrupted the wheel's power. In that case, couldn't she interrupt the circle in a similar way and break its hold on them? Without a second thought, Doujima pointed her gun at the ceiling and fired several shots, painting the surface with splatters of iridescent green.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sakaki cried, unprepared for her action.

"Saving your stupid ass, though it's hardly worth the effort." Shaking her head, Doujima headed down the hall past him, avoiding looking too closely at the unidentifiable lumps and shapes on the surfaces around her. "Come on. Let's get this over with so we can get out of here."

-----

"Robin, stop!" Amon stood just inside the doorway of the theater, his gun aimed squarely at the craft user's slim back--though he had to admit his aim was wavering ever so slightly. Robin, he pleaded with her in his mind, fight it. Don't make me do this. Oblivious to his silent pleas, she continued walking unhurriedly toward the stage, and Amon felt his stomach clench as he pulled back on the trigger ever so slowly. His vision blurred as the bullet ripped through the air toward her.

He was too numb to even react when he felt a sharp pain cut into his left shoulder followed by a heavy weight causing him to stumble. He nearly dropped his gun as he leaned against a nearby seat to regain his balance, ignoring the creature's howl of challenge. The heavy odor of something rotten filled his nostrils as he struggled to throw the weight off his side, but the smell was quickly replaced by the equally repulsive scent of burning flesh. Cringing as the panicked beast dug its claws deeper into his shoulder, he managed to shove the writhing beast off of him with a roar of frustration. It seemed that in its attack, the strange, dog-like creature had unwittingly saved Amon from a different assault--one originating from Robin. His gaze snapped up to where Robin stood now, facing him with her eyes burnished by flame. He caught a glimpse of bright green splashed across a seat not far from her and realized she must have deflected the orbo. This was going to be even more difficult than he had thought.

Robin pushed her glasses up on her nose before turning toward the stage again, her movements seeming sluggish to him, as if time itself had slowed. But then again, perhaps he was the only one moving in slow motion as he mutely watched her walk away, helpless to even move for several long moments. Distantly, he heard an unearthly shriek shatter the shell of silence his mind had created around him. The macabre sound was followed by a hollow cackle, and he looked up to see an ephemeral shape swooping down through the air at him, brandishing razor sharp scissors large enough to cut him in two. He had no time to react, merely watching as a sword sliced through the insubstantial shape suddenly, sparks dancing along the metal as it arced past. Another spectral scream quivered through the charged air, and Amon had to roll to one side quickly to evade the blade of the scissors as they spun toward him, glinting dully in the dim light.

Then Dante was beside him, dragging him to his feet with a tight grip on his uninjured arm. Dante deflected another attack from a twisted, demonic creature before growling in Amon's face with a rather demonic expression of his own, "What the hell was that? Why did you try to shoot her?"

Amon met the half-demon's angry blue gaze evenly, pulling his sleeve out of the man's grasp with a scowl. "Perhaps you've failed to notice, but Robin isn't in control of her actions at the moment--which means she isn't in control of her powers. She would want to be stopped."

"Stopped maybe, but not killed!"

"I'm using orbo bullets," Amon retorted, feeling his lips twist in an expression close to a sneer. Did Dante truly think he could kill Robin without a second thought? "They won't kill her, but they will suppress her powers."

"I see," Dante grunted gruffly, tossing another attacking fiend off his back in annoyance and showering the creature with bullets before it hit the ground. Amon backed away a step when he noticed the faint aura of red glowing around Dante, uncertain of its source but fairly certain he would not like its outcome. Turning back to face him, Dante stated, "Well you're not much good to me without real bullets, but I'd wager she needs your help more than I do right now anyway." Shoving Amon in the direction of the stage, he added, "Don't let her down."

Amon dismissed the demon hunter silently, continuing toward his destination without looking back--not even when he heard what sounded like wings beating at the air and the buzz of electrical current followed by more wraithlike screams. His gaze was focused on the honey-haired girl knelt in a pool of light at the center of the stage. He was determined to protect her at all costs--even if it meant hurting her in the process--even if it meant trading his own life for hers.

A dark feminine figure stepped out of the shadows beyond Robin as Amon climbed onto the stage, his injured side protesting the strain of the movement. He did not immediately recognize Beatrice--her features had become more animalistic, less surreally beautiful--but her voice was all too familiar as she began chanting words urgently in a language he could not understand. Amon saw a glint of claws at her fingertips as she cupped Robin's face in her hands, dark hair spilling over her shoulders and shrouding them both as she leaned closer.

Quickening his pace, Amon slipped behind the edge of a border, using the dark curtain for cover as he panted to catch his breath; his injuries were affecting him more than he had expected. Crouching down and bracing his elbows against his knee to keep his hands from shaking, he aimed carefully at Beatrice. The first bullet deflected off Beatrice's shield uselessly and the second only managed to draw a thin line of blood against her pale cheek with its close trajectory. However, the third actually landed in the half-demon's calf, causing her to look up at him with a feral growl. A wave of heat rushed by him, and he rolled out of its path not a moment too soon. Pain burned in his left side as he came back to his feet, but it was a less dangerous burn than the flame, which had just consumed the curtain he had been using as shelter.

When he finally looked up again, he saw that Beatrice had sliced deep enough into Robin's forearm with her claws to draw blood, her chanting gaining intensity. Robin showed no reaction to the half-demon's actions, not even when Beatrice raised the bloodied skin to her lips and began lapping at the red liquid like a cat at a bowl of milk. Overwhelmed with disgust by merely watching the nauseating scene, Amon struggled to focus as he raised his gun again, aiming this time at Robin since the orbo clearly had little effect on Beatrice. He could only hope that the orbo would break Beatrice's control and not merely leave Robin more vulnerable. Not allowing himself to hesitate, he pulled the trigger quickly, but flinched when Robin went limp momentarily in Beatrice's arms, a dark patch on the back of her shirt.

To his dismay, Beatrice looked up at him slowly, her lips curving upward in a malevolent smile. She raised a small flask to her lips after dousing Robin's wounds with the murky liquid, throwing her head back as she drained the container. Amon watched her in dread, finger itching at the trigger. Settling her pale gaze on him again, Beatrice announced, "You're too late, hunter. The ritual of binding is complete."

"No," Amon breathed, watching as Beatrice stepped away from Robin and the girl crumpled to the ground without the support to keep her upright. His breath caught in his throat as Robin managed to turn her head to look at him, her gaze lucid again. He watched in horror as she mouthed his name, tears glittering on her cheeks. "You're lying," he said to Beatrice with more confidence than he felt. Robin would not be looking at him now with such desperate questions in her eyes if she were still under Beatrice's control; she would not be silently asking why he had shot her because she would be unable to even consider such independent thoughts under Beatrice's influence.

"So you don't believe me," Beatrice observed. "I shall just have to prove the truth to you then."

A flash of brilliant light and a sharp cry of pain from Robin were the only warnings he had before flame burnt through a few thick ropes against the wall behind him, upsetting the system of pulleys controlling the various curtains, scenery and pipes of electrics hanging at a threatening height above them. He had barely a moment to consider his danger before he heard a snap and a rushing noise as something far above came plummeting down to the stage. Leaping out of the way just in time, he landed hard against the floor and slid to a stop, the stage vibrating with the volume of the crash behind him. Lights and equipment shattered as they hit the ground, pelting him with shrapnel and debris.

Blinking up through the settling dust, he saw Beatrice lower a wall of flame she had raised in protection between herself and the wreckage. "Her power is within such easy reach," she murmured. He dropped his gaze to see Robin trembling at her feet, her breath coming in shaky gasps. "You see," Beatrice continued, looking wonderingly at her hand as she danced a tongue of fire from fingertip to fingertip, "it no longer matters where she is, whether she fights me or not . . . I have complete access to her power--and she can do nothing to stop me from taking it."

Amon's eyes widened when wings sprouted from Beatrice's back suddenly, swooping down through the air to lift her gracefully off the ground. He struggled to move, to find some way to stop her, but he felt too weak at the moment to even lift his gun. "Keep her safe for a little while longer, will you?" Beatrice laughed, looking at Amon as a ball of fire erupted in the wall behind her, accompanied by another scream from Robin. "I'll have use for her power tomorrow."

Before she had disappeared completely, another winged figure landed on the stage not far from Amon, panting slightly, its hands braced against its knees. "Come back here you sadistic freak!" the dark figure bellowed, and Amon realized with a start that the strange creature was in fact Dante. "We're not through yet!" Dante added, but his threat was minimal since he was obviously weary from all the fighting he had already done. The wings on his back became more ephemeral with every breath he gasped into his lungs, and his skin was slowly returning to its usual shade of tan, his hair once again paling to white.

"You spend too little time in your demon form, Dante," Beatrice taunted, hovering at the edge of the opening she had created in the wall. "It rejects you so quickly."

"And you spend too much time as a demon! You forget you're still partly human--with all the wonderful weaknesses that come with humanity."

"I'll admit I am feeling rather fatigued at the moment. But at least I got what I wanted. Do you even know what you want anymore, dear brother?"

Then she was gone, and Amon had found enough strength to struggle to his feet and stumble across the debris-strewn stage to Robin's crumpled form. Dropping to his knees next to her--partially because he didn't have the energy to do otherwise--he gently brushed the hair out of her face and frowned at the sickly pallor of her skin. He heard Dante approach slowly, boots crunching over the rubble. "She okay?" the demon hunter asked quietly.

"I don't know," Amon replied after checking her pulse. "She's unconscious, but she is alive." Unable to think beyond his need to protect her despite his miserable failure in that task already, he gathered his partner into his arms tenderly, ignoring the stabbing pain in his left side and noting instead how fragile Robin felt in his arms. He managed to get to his feet, only to find himself crumbling a moment later, Robin still clutched against his chest.

"Shit, could you at least try to remember you're not a superhero for one damn second?" Dante grumbled, supporting both of them for a moment before tugging Robin's limp form out of Amon's arms. "Because, unless you're wearing a leotard with a huge 's' on the chest underneath those clothes, you're in no shape to carry her out of here." A lesser man--or perhaps a "mere man" was a more accurate term--would have wavered under the glare Amon turned on Dante then, but Dante simply shook his head. Shifting Robin so he could hold her with just one arm, Dante pulled something out of his jacket and pressed it into Amon's hand.

Looking down, Amon saw a green globe glowing in his palm for a few moments before it melted into his skin with a tingling sensation. Almost instantly, he felt energy seeping back into his body, reviving him enough for him to remain standing without support. "What was that?" Amon inquired curiously, too tired to even react to Dante's presumption.

"Green orb," Dante answered brusquely, walking back across the rubble toward the exit. "Works wonders, doesn't it? It's a good thing I didn't have to go so far as to use a yellow one--I'm not sure if it would work on someone who doesn't have demon blood anyway."

"What a mess," a familiar voice exclaimed from the main entrance of the theater. "Hey, Doujima, we must be getting close--this looks like Dante's handiwork."

"I see you finally got yourself out of Beatrice's little trap, Trish," Dante called to the tall blonde picking her way across the carcass-littered space. "And you even managed to do it without having to cut your feet off at the ankles." Cradling Robin closer to his body, he hopped down off the stage gingerly.

"You can thank me for that!" Doujima proclaimed proudly, peeking in through the doorway. "Though I suppose I should give credit to Robin since she was the one to give me the idea." Doujima's expression grew worried as she noticed the unconscious girl in Dante's arms. "Is she all right?"

Amon followed Dante off the stage with a bit less grace--a fact which annoyed Amon more than a little--and replied quickly, "Too soon to tell. Do you know where the others are?"

Doujima's eyes narrowed as she shifted her gaze to him. "Sakaki took Karasuma back to the car."

"Is she injured?" Amon asked evenly.

"We had to fight off a swarm of demons . . . Her injures aren't serious, but she's lost a lot of blood," Trish answered. Her eyes widened slightly when she looked at Amon; they had now met each other in the middle of the theater, and she was close enough to see the blood darkening Amon's coat; Dante's crimson jacket was likewise soaked in blood, but little of it was his own. "Hey, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Amon stated tersely, brushing past her as he continued on toward the door. Though he couldn't see Dante's expression, he could surmise with little doubt that the half-demon was rolling his eyes in response.

Doujima eyed him uncertainly as he swept by her as well on his way out the door, reloading his orbo gun. "Oh, you won't need that," she commented. "The place is deserted now. We didn't see a single living thing the whole way from the side entrance to here."

Despite her assertion, Amon did not put his gun away when he was finished loading it, and he caught Doujima making a similar expression to the one he'd imagined Dante making. Nevertheless, the building did indeed seem to be as empty as she described since they met absolutely no resistance on their way out of the building. Amon didn't put his gun away until they were outside though, just to be safe.

The others walked several paces behind him, either because they respected the fact that he needed his space at the moment or because he was the subject of their quiet conversation. Concentrating on formulating a plan of action to enact when they reached the vehicles, he managed to ignore their mutters and soft exclamations with a fair amount of success until he heard Doujima gasp suddenly, "Is that orbo?" Then, shortly after, he felt her accusatory glare on his back. "Amon, you didn't shoot Robin . . . did you?"

Feeling the sting of her words, he struggled to keep his voice emotionless. "I did. But that's the least of our problems right now. She will recover from the orbo."

"But exactly what are the side effects of orbo?" Doujima persisted. "Do any of us really know? All the witches we've used it against are whisked away to the Factory before we get a chance to find out."

"Wait a minute," Dante said with anger edging his voice. "You said it was safe. You said it would only suppress her powers."

Amon took a slow breath, but continued walking, refusing to turn around to face their reproachful expressions. "I never said it was entirely 'safe,'" he replied carefully. "I said it wouldn't kill her."

"You cold hearted son-of-a-bitch," Dante growled. "You were willing to take the risk--"

Fury boiling beneath the surface of his calm facade, Amon came to a stop suddenly and spun around. "To save her life. Yes." Nearly shaking with his repressed anger, Amon regarded each of them in return, knowing, and no longer even caring, that they could see the hurt in his eyes. Doujima's gaze dropped quickly, her expression pensive. Trish frowned and looked down at Robin sadly. But Dante returned his glare, his expression warring between outrage and regret.

Before anyone could say another word, the focus of their argument stirred slightly in Dante's arms. Curling closer to Dante's chest, Robin buried her face against his shoulder and reached up a hand to cling to his vest, murmuring a word which made heat rise to Amon's cheeks. "Amon . . ."

Swallowing, Amon only watched the half-conscious girl a moment longer, ignoring the gazes which had just shifted to him and turning around again. He heard another muffled noise from Robin as he walked away and then heard Dante say softly, "Hey, babe. How are you feeling?"

"A little disoriented," Robin murmured. Amon heard a shuffling of fabric. "It's okay, you can put me down."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, Robin, maybe you shouldn't try walking right now," Doujima agreed.

"I'll be okay," Robin replied quietly, and Amon felt the weight of her eyes on his back suddenly. "Amon . . . ?"

They were in sight of the cars now and Amon refused to slow his pace. They didn't have time for pleasantries at the moment. "Doujima, I need you to take Robin and Karasuma to the hospital," he ordered, ignoring his partner's plaintive query. "I'm going back to the office to check on Michael."

"Michael," Robin whispered, her voice heavy with emotion. He heard her boots click on the pavement as she quickened her pace to catch up with him. "I'm going with you." She tugged lightly on his sleeve to pull him to a stop, stumbling slightly when he actually did stop and nearly caused her to run into him.

Catching her out of reflex more than conscious thought, he looked down into her emerald eyes, wide as saucers and filled with entreaty. "No. You're not." Her expression of anguish deepened to despair and he felt his resolve wavering at the defeated look in the depths of her eyes.

"But, I don't need to go to the hospital. I'm afraid I hurt Michael, and I--"

"No," he repeated as firmly as he could manage. When he felt assured she could remain standing on her own, he released her arms and turned away quickly, unable to bear her pained expression any longer.

Sakaki had just closed the passenger door after helping Karasuma into the front seat of Doujima's car when he noticed them approaching. Looking up at them with panic in his eyes, he cried, "We need to get her to the hospital like ten minutes ago." He was rubbing his hands against each other anxiously in an attempt to wipe away all the blood still clinging to his skin.

Panic spurring her, Doujima jogged up to the car and snatched the keys out of Sakaki's hand when he offered them before slipping into the driver's seat without a pause. Amon approached his own car hardly less quickly, only stopping momentarily when he felt Dante's hand on his right shoulder. Lips pressed into a firm line and expression tight, Amon looked up at the demon hunter impatiently. "Michael could be dying on the floor of the STN-J right now. I don't have time for more arguments."

Without mincing words, Dante stated bluntly, "Someone else can check on him. You need to go to the hospital too."

"I will see a doctor later. That 'orb' you gave me cut the pain in half. I'll be fine." Opening the door, he slid down into the driver's seat before meeting Dante's eyes again and adding quietly, "I'm trusting you to take care of her."

Dante only nodded silently, his expression a strange conglomeration of emotions. Slamming the door and turning the ignition, Amon didn't even look back before peeling out onto the street, fearful that seeing Robin's forlorn expression one more time would be too much for him.

--------

"Will he be okay?" Trish inquired quietly, standing at Dante's elbow.

Dante shook himself slightly. "Who? Rambo? I gave him my last green orb. Don't worry, he'll live to annoy another day."

"You're terrible," Trish muttered, shaking her head.

"Guys, we really need to get going!" Doujima cried with a hint of desperation.

Trish turned to the car, following Dante, but almost ran into him when he stopped suddenly, his gaze darting around urgently. "Where's Robin?" Panic caught in Trish's chest and she turned slowly, sweeping her eyes around the area.

"Shit," Sakaki cursed from the other side of the car. "Look," he continued, pointing back at the theater. "Her Vespa's gone. I didn't even see her sneak off."

"I don't think we have time to look for her," Doujima said, worry filling her voice as she looked over at Karasuma. "Miho's completely unconscious now."

"And we only have one vehicle. Dammit!" Dante cursed as he squeezed into the back seat of the car beside Trish, sliding Alastor down against the floorboard. Sakaki slipped into the seat on the other side, and Trish realized Doujima's car was quite a bit smaller than Amon's. Settling herself in what little seat remained for her, she leaned closer to Dante, sensing his anxiety, and wondering--not for the first time since arriving in Japan--how Dante had grown attached to Robin so quickly. She watched him look back over his shoulder at the theater when Doujima pulled the car out into the street and felt the tension in his muscles as they drove away. Reaching for his hand, Trish pulled it into her lap and folded both of her own around it, gently stroking his skin in soothing circles. Slowly, she felt him relax against her.

Looking back at them in the rear view mirror, Doujima said reassuringly, "As soon as we get Miho to the hospital, I'll take you back to Harry's to get your vehicles and we'll all split up to look for Robin."

"Amon's going to kill us," Sakaki muttered under his breath.

"Somehow I think he might find Robin first," Dante replied quietly. Trish looked up at Dante's profile as he looked blankly out the window, silver hair obscuring half his face. He must have sensed her eyes on him because he glanced down at her and smiled ever so faintly, squeezing her hand.

"You think she went back to the office?" Sakaki asked.

"That would be my first guess, yes," Dante answered. "She wanted to go there, and if Rambo hadn't been such an asshole he would have let her come with him in the first place and she wouldn't have taken off on her own." Shaking his head with a sharp sigh of frustration, he added, "You'd think the moron would catch the clue train eventually."

"I don't think the clue train has ever stopped in Amon's part of town," Doujima said with a nervous laugh. "He's kind of stuck on stupid sometimes."

"So I've noticed."

--------

Remember how I told you I was evil at the top of the page? Yeah . . . Another cliffhanger! Lucky for all of you though, I have pieces of the next chapter already written--plus, I have a much better idea of exactly what's going to happen in it. So, it shouldn't be nearly as long of a wait.
Don't know if any of you caught the Red vs. Blue reference earlier, but thought I would mention it in case anyone wondered what Sakaki was quoting when he was talking about Doujima's "lightish red" sunglasses. It's much funnier in RvB, but I just had to pay it homage.

To Seashah: Thank you, thank you! I'm glad you enjoy my style, though I have to admit I've ripped most of it off from Nikita and other various shows I've watched. Yeah, I think it's amusing that the readers actually often know more than the characters about the references. And as for the dreams--I've had some majorly random ones myself, so I suppose I had some material to work from.

To AVAAntares: I'm so glad you enjoyed my story! It's always rewarding to have a favorite author enjoy your own work. It seems like we've got a lot in common too! Good luck with your search for a Graphic Design job--believe me, I know how difficult it is to find one. I had to work at a doctor's office for a year before I finally got lucky. I've never really had a chance to cosplay, but I did dress up as Chiana from Farscape for Halloween last year and the makeup alone took for freakin' ever. But it looked cool enough to really freak some of my friends out.
Amon and the carwash! Ah, the Utena movie is such good fodder for crazy imagery. And X. Yeah, I decided to avoid the disembodied heads, but I was actually considering at one point working Tokyo Tower in there. And sakura blossoms. (Ah, Seishiro and tree-san). Maybe Amon should have started screaming, "ROBIN!" As far as I know, Trish is indeed a demon, but hey, I don't claim to be a complete expert. As far as the relation between Beatrice and Trish, though, I'm going to leave that open for now.

To Kyra Invictus Black: Sorry I didn't update as soon as I planned. And sorry I put in another cliffhanger, but I'll try to keep this wait shorter. Actually, I checked with a few of my friend who graduated with a degree in Japanese and she said "Doujima-kun" is correct and Kosaka does call her that in the Japanese on the DVD's. I rarely watch anything dubbed because the voice acting is so horrible and the translations often get messed up (in fact I did watch part of WHR in the dub because I was watching with people who don't like subtitles after I'd already watched the subtitled version and I was amazed by how the meaning of a scene was completely different. I eventually forced them to watch it with subtitles.) LOL about Zaizen in a watercooler bottle! What an image! But no worries, more AxR on the way!

To lizalou42: Oh my, do I really have to respond to all of these reviews, my dear and good friend? Dude, it's hard not to add "Mr. Garibaldi" onto the end of that sentence. You know I was saying it with Londo's accent. Anyway . . . I'll do these in chronological order. You know you liked Michael getting beaten up--bandages remember? So Zaizen's on the list with Pioneer? Well, I suppose I should say the one Pioneer used to be on . . . Character insight and thoughts: two of my fav things.
"Another transitory chapter"--are you really surprised? I enjoy the juxtaposition of humor against the seriousness of the abuse. I think most everyone was clueless to the severity of the situation. Robin and Karasuma were the only ones who noticed the bruises and no one else really realizes what f$#in' bastard Zaizen is. I originally wrote this chapter from a diff pt of view, but changing it to Karasuma's really helped make it more cohesive with the other chapters since she's more in the know than some of the others.
Michael's dream . . .damn, knew I forgot something. But that gives me an idea. evil grin I'd have to agree I like Dante's dream the best simply because it adds depth to Dante's character, yet I think it's interesting how the balance of all three in their varied weirdness make the chapter feel complete.
I still disagree about Karasuma's attitude, but maybe that's because I wrote that section after rewatching some of the episodes where she has major mood swings. You can have Michael, I suppose, so long as I get Birkof! And teamwork is important. Go team! Synergy! Blech, barf, puke.
"Log, log, it's big, it's heavy, it's wood. Log, log, it's better than bad, it's good!" It is amazing how reading all the chapters together makes a difference. Writing them all together helps too, but we knew there have been issues in the way of that lately. As for the Amon/Dante conversation, I originally saw them coming to an easier understanding with less head butting. But then I started really writing it and I realized that's so not the way things would go. Neither of them likes to give up control.
Ah, a date with Dante--driving around in Quetzalcoatl. Actually, I don't think he would like that much . . . It's a smooth chapter maybe because I'm better at writing interlude character interaction stuff than writing action or strategy. Oh well.
Whew, last review. I'm getting tired. :) Happy one hundred review. Yeah, I think it adds something to Karasuma's character that she's skeptical of Dante's stories. We got some major style points. Oh yeah. Robin rode that Vespa like a bat outta hell. Well we'll just have to see what Robin does to "make it up" to Michael.

To Yukari Youkai: The action continues. Yeah, he had to shoot her, but it'll be okay.

To Mikkyayaya: Thank you! It makes me feel good my story hooked you so much you read 15 chapters all at once. It feels strange to be the one giving hope to crossovers when I've never been much of a fan of them myself! But hey, maybe that's what it takes. LOL about the bumblebee story. I don't know if you've every watched any Monty Python, but it reminds me of a skit they did about Eric the Half-a-Bee. Sorry about another evil cliffhanger.

To Pyrosa: Thanks! Sorry I didn't put the quote in, but I tend to like writing the insanely cheesy kind of lines he said in the first game. Even though I groaned at them when I played the game, somehow they just make up a big part of Dante's character in my mind. As far as Amon shooting Robin--you got what you wanted! I was glad to hear someone actually wanted it since I already knew it was going to happen!

To Tiger of the Wind1: Thank you! Glad you enjoyed! Yeah, those crazy kids were doing a little bit o' somethin' somethin' in the car. And Michael will be okay. No shaming!

To Amon's Angel of the Darkness: I'm not completely sure how many chapters are left since I like interludes so well, who knows . . . I can make two days go on for twenty chapters. Crazy. And next chapter, I promise, the AxR is going to kick into high gear.

To bravedragon: Thanks! Amon will save Robin, yes. But now I'm talking about the next chapter. Hee hee hee! You'll just have to wait and see!

To Sakura Rain: Thanks! I'll update as soon as I can.