Loxias once foretold
That I should mate with mine own mother, and shed
With my own hands the blood of my own sire.
Hence Corinth was for many a year to me
A home distant; and I trove abroad,
But missed the sweetest sight, my parents' face.

- Sophocles, Oedipus the King

Chapter Three: Like A Woman

Warm. Warm liquid. Floating clothes. Red.

Where am I? The entry plug of Unit-01? Nobody is here.

Images. Faces, too fast to recognize. Faces, friendly, neutral, watching.

Watching me. Yes. People I know. People who know me.

Water. Cool ripples, darkness; silver waves, seen from below. Underwater.

I see. Everything from my world.

A flicker.

What's this?

More flickers. Things. Beaks, claws. Blood. Too much blood! Faces, not like human faces; leering, monstrous faces, hurting.

Unpleasant images; I understand. Enemies. Enemies! Enemies! Our enemies, Angels, with heavenly names. Eva's target; NERV's target. Misato's father's revenge. Why am I fighting? I hate it.

A voice. Asuka, scolding. There's no reason, only the need to fight, not to think.

What do you mean, there's no reason? I shouldn't think about it? I know this thing. Enemy! Enemy! Everyone's an enemy!

More faces. Different faces.

Nobody... nobody will think ill of me if I fight, if I fight to protect myself, protect everyone. Enemies! More enemies!

Silence. Father. Father, staring down, a cold face.

My enemy! Damn it! You are my enemy! You crippled Touji; you killed Mother! The progressive knife, a feather in my hands, screaming, driving it up, towards...

Dripping LCL, Asuka stepped down from the test plug, gritting her teeth. The results weren't back yet, of course, but her scores would almost certainly be down. Losing ground wasn't something she was used to. It won't last, she reminded herself angrily. I'm better than this.

Idly grabbing one of the disposable towels NERV kept around for this exact purpose, she ran the thing over her face and hair, soaking up most of the foul liquid; at least now it wouldn't run into her eyes, her mouth. I hate that stuff. Like blood.

Grimacing, she tossed the towel into a nearby refuse bin, where it lay on top of a heap of others like it. When was the last time someone emptied that? she wondered, disgusted. That's got to be a biohazard. They're too busy worried about their precious Shinji to see to the needs of the other two pilots who aren't stuck in their Evas. Idiots.

As she stood there, Ayanami descended from her own plug and made for the showers without toweling at all, cool as you please. Asuka stared at her retreating back with narrowed eyes. How can she be so docile about this? They're snubbing her too. She probably just doesn't care. Ritsuko could probably slap her face all day and she'd just stand there and take it.

Lips twisted, she started to follow the other pilot, but her eyes were drawn to the empty plug, the one Shinji would have been using. He'd been stuck inside the damn Eva for weeks, now, and they were still hatching plans to salvage him. Not "rescue." "Salvage." Like he was just pieces of a person they were going to sweep out of the entry plug and glue back together into a living, breathing idiot. That alone told Asuka how likely they thought success would be. All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Shinji together again. She snorted, shaking her head.

Quickly, though, the wry grin faded from her lips. How exactly did someone get stuck in an Evangelion anyway? She'd seen video of the entry plug; it was just empty, with only his clothes floating there. That's... a little creepy, she admitted.

Before she knew it, her feet were carrying her across the industrial metal floor to the box, where she could stare down at the inert Unit-01; the Eva still stood wrapped in restraints like an upright, mechanical Gulliver among the sneaky Lilliputians. Or is it mechanical at all? she wondered, frowning. The last fight made it look like an animal. Shinji may be a show-off, but I doubt he'd choose to eat an Angel.

As the last thought struck her, she frowned. Does that mean the Eva's keeping him in there? Or is he staying by choice? Running away by another name?

Unbidden, her eyes drifted sideways, to where her own Unit-02 stood, still the subject of extensive repair work. You wouldn't do that, would you? You're a good little doll. Not like Shinji's stupid Eva. The mecha did not venture a response.

Moments slid past, and she chewed a lip thoughtfully. What would it be like in there? What was he feeling, if anything? What would it be like to be just... alone, totally alone, with only your own thoughts for company? Asuka scowled, tensing at the thought. Or would he just be in something like a simple coma? I hope so, for your sake. Oblivion would be better than that kind of loneliness.

Abruptly she shook herself. Whatever. I'm sure they'll get him out so he can dazzle us with his skill again. The boy's talent wouldn't be half so infuriating if it seemed he had to work for it, or if he would just honestly gloat about it. Idiot.

Teeth bared, she spun and headed for the showers, hoping Ayanami was already done.

Something comfortable. Warm. What is this? Human warmth? I've never had it.

What is loneliness?

I've never known it, but I feel like I know it.

What is happiness?

I've never known it, but I feel like I know it.

Are others kind to you?

Yes.

Why?

It's... it's because I pilot the Eva. Because I get into the Eva. It's why I can stay here, why everyone supports me.

Get into it.

Yes. I must fight against what everyone calls our enemies.

Fight.

Yes. I must win. I must not lose, otherwise nobody will... nobody...

Do your best!

Hang in there!

Knock 'em dead!

Misato, Ritsuko, Asuka, Touji, Kensuke, Father... they all praise me. They praise me because I pilot the Eva. So... everybody likes me.

Do your best!

I am! I am doing my best! Please be nice to me. I've been fighting so hard, and I'm so tired of it, and I'm doing the best I can. Somebody be nice to me!

"Are we ready yet?" asked Ritsuko quietly.

Maya nodded. "MAGI report all peripherals online, and the capture buffer is ready."

Ritsuko pondered this briefly. "I want to double-check," she decided. "Run a P1 diagnostic on all the probes and compare the results against the records from last time." Maya nodded, keying the commands into her console.

Kouzou Fuyutsuki stood a few paces behind the women, letting them work in peace, for now, though he suspected things were about to get substantially less peaceful. Beyond them, in the cage, the puzzling Unit-01 stood amidst an array of sensors and test equipment. The other Evangelions remained on either side, bracketed by scaffolds, complete with hanging cords supplying power to torches and the like. All the tools had been abandoned for now; the workers had been evacuated an hour previous against the possibility of any... mishaps... regarding the salvage operation on Unit-01.

This had better work, he sighed, watching as Ritsuko and her subordinate pored over a screen of graphs and numbers, pointing things out to one another. Unit-01 was clearly useless without a physical Shinji in it, and though Unit-02 could likely go into combat, Unit-00 still looked vaguely like a candle in an oven, even after the armor plates had been replaced. N2 mines will do that, I suppose.

"They're being so careful," murmured Misato next to him, rubbing her cross necklace pensively against her lips. The thought did not appear to please her.

Kouzou smiled thinly at the reinforced window. He knew what she was thinking; so much care suggested a lack of confidence in the outcome of today's operation. "Patience," he advised. "It's not as though Shinji's going anywhere."

The woman snorted at this, dropping the necklace back against her chest. "I'm not very patient," she sighed, "though for him, I am trying."

"Good." Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Rei appearing in the opening door; without expression the girl advanced to the window and began staring down at the offending Eva unit. Or at least that was what he assumed she was staring at. With Rei, one could never tell.

"Makoto," called Ritsuko, glancing up from her display. "Set up a flood loop between the MAGI to make sure there are no bandwidth issues."

"Roger," answered the bespectacled tech crisply, fingers flying over his keyboard.

Kouzou glanced idly at his timepiece, then suppressed the urge to sigh. This had better work, he concluded again. If it doesn't, we're screwed.

Misato's face, Misato's body; she's smiling. Carefree.

I am kind to you, Shinji. Well? Do you want to become one with me? Do you want to become of one mind and body? It's such a comfortable feeling. I'm ready for you, ready whenever you are.

Asuka's face, Asuka's body; she's smiling, smiling at me. I never see her smile like that. Her eyes are... playful.

Hey, idiot Shinji. Do you want to become one with me? Do you want to become of one mind and body? It's such a comfortable feeling. I won't ask you this very often. Come on!

Rei's face, Rei's body; she's smiling, relaxed. It breaks me. Is she actually happy? I could see that forever.

Ikari. Do you want to become one with me? Do you want to become of one mind and body? It's such a comfortable feeling. Ikari.

They're blurring now, all three of them. Can't separate the voices, the faces, the eyes.

Do you want to become one with me?

Do you want to become of one mind and body?

It's such a comfortable feeling.

Come on, now. Be at ease.

"The ego-border pulse has been connected," reported Maya eagerly.

Good. Finally. Ritsuko nodded. "Roger. Begin the salvage operation."

"Roger," acknowledged Makoto without glancing away from his screen. "First signal is sent."

"The Eva has received the signal," added Shigeru.

"Second and third signals sent," announced Maya.

"Edge drift is under nominal conditions."

"No destrudo detected."

"Roger," replied Ritsuko, keeping her composure. A lot could still go wrong. "Move the operation to phase two."

Something beeped somewhere; Maya frowned at her screen, then grimaced. "His ego border has fallen into a fixed loop."

Ritsuko frowned over the younger woman's shoulder. "Try to irradiate the wave patterns from all directions," she suggested; Maya complied, and the results flowed down the screen, an ugly sequence of numbers she recognized. "No," she mused. "The signals are captured in Klein space." That is unexpected.

"What does that even mean?" demanded Misato.

Ritsuko eyed the other woman. "It means we're failing," she explained simply. A shame we don't have any clones of Shinji.

Misato blinked. "What?"

Sighing, Ritsuko turned back to the operation in progress. "Stop the interference," she instructed. "Reverse the tangent graph and set the addition value to zero."

"Yes," acknowledged Maya crisply, tapping in the commands.

Ignoring everyone else in the room, Ritsuko let herself settle into the problem at hand, welcoming the intellectual challenge. In truth, the mechanisms to retrieve Shinji from the entry plug were not altogether different from those to capture the shape of Rei's personality for the dummy plugs, but the conditions in which they were used made for a different set of obstacles. A refreshing change.

But too big of a change, perhaps. After what she assumed to be hours, Ritsuko sighed, conceding defeat. I'm sorry, Shinji. "Stop all operations," she commanded. "Cut the power supply."

"No!" gasped Maya. "The entry plug is venting!" Indeed, as she spoke, swells of crimson liquid spilled out of the still-inserted plug, flowing around the angular form of the Eva's back and crashing forcefully to the ground far below.

Somehow Misato had gotten down to the floor, where she knelt clutching Shinji's empty garments and weeping loudly. Just like a mother, noted Ritsuko, shaking her head. Eva claims another victim. Will we ever use it again, or is it just an enormous paperweight now? I feel for the next sad fool to get into that thing. Mouth twisted in resignation, she turned from the window.

A new note to Misato's wailing caught her attention, however. Frowning, she glanced back and blinked, seeing Shinji's naked body lying facedown on the flooring as though simply dumped from the machine.

Ritsuko stared at the boy for a moment, but then couldn't help chuckling. We tried every trick in the book to steal a man from her, but only after we've given up does she decide to release him. Just like a woman.

Beside her, Maya and the other techs slumped with relief, while Misato called for a medical team to claim and examine Shinji. Even Fuyutsuki wore a faint smile.

In fact, she saw, the only face not smiling in the box was the First Child's. "Rei," she called. "Are you not happy?"

The plugsuited girl finally turned from the window to face Ritsuko, red eyes not quite meeting her gaze. "It is good that he is safe," she answered softly, carefully. After a moment of silence, Rei turned and walked silently from the room.

Ritsuko watched the girl as she departed, eyes narrowed. Something is odd there, she realized. She's changing, somehow. Perhaps it bears worth watching.

Making a mental note for later, she put Rei out of her mind and turned back to the techs. "Don't congratulate yourselves just yet," she reminded them. "We need to check the residuals in Unit-01 and run it through the full test suite. I hope none of you were planning on sleeping anytime soon."

In the bright silence of a hospital room, Rei sat reading. The formal words lining the page did not hold her interest closely, but they did provide useful information, Eva safety recommendations Naoko Akagi had written but never finished, years ago. Though much of what the woman had suggested was now considered out-of-date, Rei found a few noteworthy changes between past and present policy, mostly regarding environmental conditions in the entry plugs. The late Dr. Akagi had been substantially more conservative than what her daughter now permitted.

In those days, Rei realized, frowning at the book, they feared Eva even more than they do now, after what happened to Ikari. Or perhaps they were merely afraid of damaging them. In any case, I do not think anyone understands the Eva, then or now. As she continued to read, sunlight from the windows warmed her back.

Soft noise and rapid motion pulled her attention to the bed; Ikari had just sat bolt upright, a startled expression on his face as he blinked about the room. Shortly his notice alighted on Rei and he twitched in clear surprise. "Ayanami?" he wondered quietly.

Carefully marking her page, Rei folded the book shut and put it gently aside. He looks different, she decided uncertainly, examining her fellow pilot. Less animated. He must still be tired.

After a moment Ikari relaxed, rubbing hands slowly over his face. "I'm alive?" he asked flatly. "I wasn't sure."

"You are alive now," she answered. "For the previous month, I do not think your status was defined."

The hands dropped from his face, and blue eyes met her gaze with a peculiar expression she could not identify. "A month," he repeated. "I was... I was in there for a month? In Eva?"

Rei nodded. "You were retrieved eighteen hours ago."

Ikari shuddered, letting himself fall back onto the bed again, head landing neatly in the depression it had left during his recovery. "Who ran the recovery operation?"

"Dr. Akagi."

He nodded faintly against the pillow, staring at the ceiling. "Was my father there?"

"No." She paused, thinking. "The subcommander was present."

Ikari's eyes slid shut. "He doesn't care," he whispered. An angry scowl formed over his features.

Rei considered this. "The Commander made your salvage a priority," she pointed out.

"Because I can pilot Unit-01," he added with an empty laugh. "Not because I'm his son."

"That is true," she agreed. That must trouble him. Why?

Ikari remained silent for long moments; his expression grew angrier, harder, before gradually fading back to its usual character. Eventually he rolled his head to the side to eye her. "Why are you here, Ayanami?"

She frowned. "I... I felt I should be," she explained. I worried. I cared.

He blinked, then squeezed his eyes shut. "Thank you," he whispered, turning his head away.

Rei hesitated, puzzled by his reaction. Doctor Akagi's question from after the test surfaced somewhere. "Are you not happy?"

Ikari sighed, pushing himself back up to a seated position. He seemed unable to meet her gaze now. "I... am," he allowed. "Happy that you're here, at least. As for everything else..." He shrugged. "I just... I don't know. It just seems like... like no one... no one bothers to be kind to me."

Kind, she reflected. He means caring. He thinks nobody cares. "I am kind to you, Ikari," she noted.

He jerked, staring as though startled by her words. His mouth opened, then stayed that way briefly in silence before he managed to close it again. "What do you mean?" he managed finally.

"I am here," she explained. But nobody else is. Not Major Katsuragi, not Sohryu, not the Commander. Ikari is right; he doesn't care. Should he? I... don't know.

The other pilot's lips curved momentarily, but she sensed no pleasure or amusement in the smile. "Like I said," he answered, "I'm happy for that. Kindness is more than being present, though." He shook his head tiredly. "How long have you been here?"

Rei studied his face briefly but found no insight in it. "Seven hours. Since early this morning." He gazed mutely at her, seemingly somehow paralyzed; as the silence stretched she shifted slightly in the chair. "What do you mean?"

He blinked. "What?"

"About kindness."

"Oh." Ikari dropped his gaze to his lap. "I don't know," he sighed. "Maybe you're right. I... don't know much about it, I'm afraid."

Rei waited for him to elaborate, but when he did not, she tilted her head. "Should the Commander be here?"

Ikari's face clouded. "I don't..." He paused, scowling more deeply. "You know what?" he asked quietly, glancing up at her. "I don't care. I don't want him to be here. I don't want to see him. I'm done with him."

The soft force in his voice startled her. "Why?"

"Because he's a terrible father!" he answered, eyes narrowed. "Slap me again if you want; I don't even care anymore. He's a terrible person who doesn't care about anyone. Everything he does hurts people; he hurt Touji, killed my mother. He..." Swallowing, Ikari glanced down at himself and seemed to realize he was shaking, fists clenched. With a sigh, he visibly calmed himself, but said no more, instead staring dully at the sheets covering his legs.

Rei pondered his words in silence. Those are all true things, except... did he kill Yui Ikari? He has never spoken to me of her. He did hurt me, though. The sensation she now assumed to be fear slithered faintly through her belly before fading. Whereas she was tempted to reprimand Ikari, and had in fact slapped him once as he claimed, now the urge was not nearly so strong.

What if he is correct? she wondered nervously. The Commander, she reminded herself, had been correct to do everything he had done, but Pilot Ikari was also correct to feel as he did. A conundrum.

"I'm sorry, Ayanami." His words were flatter than normal, and still he did not lift his head. "You didn't want to hear all that."

Didn't I? No, I think I did. "You clarified things for me," she admitted.

Ikari chuckled, eyes downcast, but there seemed to be genuine humor in the noise. "I'm glad."

Rei watched him, eventually shifting her gaze to the book on the table beside her. Now what? Lacking a plan or anything to say, she gathered her things and stood. "Do not believe no one cares," she instructed Ikari. The Commander may not, but I do. Turning, she made her way for the door and pulled it open.

"Ayanami." His voice stopped her, quiet, uncertain. "Thank you for coming."

Without turning around she continued on into the hallway, closing the door quietly behind her. Something felt odd on her face, and belatedly she realized she was smiling, for only the second time in her life. Both times for him.

Schooling her face back to smoothness, she ignored the nurses watching her and began the long walk towards her apartment.