Not Ister nor all Phasis' flood, I ween,
Could wash away the blood-stains from this house,
The ills it shrouds or soon will bring to light,
Ills wrought of malice, not unwittingly.
The worst to bear are self-inflicted wounds.

- Sophocles, Oedipus the King

Chapter Eleven: Doll Parts

Shinji lay on top of the bed's covers, still in his clothes, wide awake in the darkness. Curled into a ball on one side, he stared at the wall without really seeing it. The silence in the apartment seemed a fitting match for the icy hopelessness inside him.

I hate him. I hate him so much. If there was one thing the last Angel's attack had shown him, it was that his life had been characterized entirely in terms of loneliness and suffering, and that it had all been because of his father. Completely and without exception. Every moment of pain he'd ever felt could be traced, without many steps, to something his father had done to him, or failed to do.

If you were still alive, decided Shinji, baring teeth silently, I'd kill you again. But what was the point now? What point in hating a man who could only be killed once? All his rage was focused against a target which was now forever immune to harm. You killed Mother. You left me all alone. You crippled Touji. You made Rei, and then used to her to hurt us both. I hate you so much, but there's nothing I can do about it now. Squeezing his eyes shut, he curled tighter into himself.

Things might have been different, once. He could recall a time, just days ago -- though it felt like years -- when Rei could have helped him. Now the sight of her twisted his insides, made him feel dirty. Ill.

Not that he hadn't tried anyway, with her. After his post-battle checkup with Ritsuko, she had been waiting for him. He'd stepped out of the examination room to find her there in the hallway, red eyes wide and open, offering everything she could give. He'd been tempted to let her give it, had hesitated there, staring at her for all of ten heartbeats. Then she'd raised a hand towards his cheek, and all the images had come flashing back, the warmth, the taste of milk, the smell of sex.

He'd run, then, brushed past her and run down the hallway, swallowing against the sour urge to vomit again. She was there if he wanted her, one last fucked-up gift from his father. A way to twist the knife from beyond the grave.

You turn everything that gives me joy into a source of pain. Shivering, he hugged knees to his chest. Father, I hate you so much.

Asuka sniffled tiredly in the night's protective gloom. God damn it, she sighed angrily, pulling the covers over her head. I hope I'm done crying again.

She was not accustomed to crying. She was not accustomed to having her mind violated, either, to seeing everything she'd tried to forget over the last ten years thrown in her face, to having everyone at NERV hear her begging her mother not to kill her.

And so she'd been weeping, in the dark, alone. For three hours or so she'd sobbed into her pillow over an attack against her mind that had lasted, from what she could tell, for less than five minutes. Then she'd recalled how it had ended, and had spent another hour crying in sheer cowardly gratitude that it had ended it all, that Shinji had made the pain stop. This last disgusted her, the mindless flinching at the thought of more pain, the craving for relief at any cost, like someone breaking under torture.

Broken, she mused bleakly, pressing a fistful of blanket firmly against her eyes. That's me.

She'd been thinking about the end of the attack a great deal. Thinking about Shinji. He shouldn't have done what he did, not for her. Since he had, NERV now had to deal with two nearly-worthless pilots instead of one. Nevertheless, in her current state she could admit she was glad he had. She owed him.

It felt strange, owing something to someone. She was not entirely certain how to proceed.

He was still awake, she knew; she'd not heard his dresser drawers sliding in and out as they did every night when he changed into the clothes he wore to bed. He was in the beam longer than I was, she reflected uneasily. I... I wonder how he's doing. I suppose the least I could do is check on him.

Wiping her face one last time with the blankets, she slipped to her feet. Making little noise, she stole into the hallway and approached his door. A moment of careful listening did not reveal any obvious sobbing. Perhaps he actually had gone to sleep.

Now what? she wondered, frowning. Whatever. If he's asleep he won't hear anyway. Knocking gently on the door with one knuckle, she slid it open just a crack. "Shinji?"

He did not answer. Though she could only see a slice of his wall, there came the soft sound of shifting cloth, as though he'd heard and was trying to ignore her.

Lips thinning, she opened the door enough to see him curled into a fetal ball on the bed, head buried in his arms. "Shinji, can I come in? I... I just want to talk to you."

"Why?" he asked in a dead whisper. "You're just going to hurt me."

Fuck this, she sighed, reaching to shut the door again. Her hand paused, however, fingers resting on the cool surface. No, I'm not running from this wimp. Then I really would be pathetic. "Shinji, I'm coming in. I'm not going to be mean to you." Swallowing the bitter words in her mouth, she slipped inside, closing the door behind her.

He said nothing, instead curling tighter as though hiding his face would make her go away. Asuka eyed him for a moment, then shuffled uncertainly towards the bed. "It sucks," she murmured, "doesn't it?"

"What sucks?"

"This does," she clarified, gesturing at him though he couldn't see it. "We're the only people in the world who know what it's like to have that happen, Shinji." Hesitating briefly, she seated herself lightly on the edge of the mattress.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Lucky us."

"Yeah," she agreed, resting her chin in her hands and staring at the opposite wall. "I feel like someone took everything that makes me who I am and smeared it on the bathroom walls for everyone to see."

Shinji did not answer right away, though she could hear him drawing a shaking breath. Eventually he sighed. "I hate him."

"Who?" she wondered without looking at him. "Your dad?"

"I hate him," repeated Shinji weakly. "I want to hurt him more."

Asuka frowned at the wall. "Shinji, he's dead. You emptied a clip into his face." She was still shocked at that, horrified that quiet, gentle Shinji would do such a thing. Not that I blame him. If it were me, I'd have done it a long time ago.

"I know," he snapped. "You think I don't know that?"

She sighed tiredly. "Shinji... look. What I'm trying to say is... I know how you feel. I was there too. You shouldn't have helped, but you did, so... thank you." She blinked. That wasn't too hard.

"I deserved it," he whispered. "I'm just sorry I didn't do it sooner."

"Well, whatever," she acknowledged quietly. "Just... remember that I understand what it's like. So, if you want, we can talk about it and... maybe help each other out."

"Maybe," he allowed. "Right now I just... I want to be alone."

"Okay." Frowning, she reached a hand out to touch his ankle, the closest part of him to her; he tensed, but did not jerk away. "Shinji, don't forget what I said."

He rolled his shoulders uncomfortably but did not reply. Asuka waited a moment, then stood and left him to his solitude.

Rei stood on the sidewalk, staring up at the apartment building, squinting against the sun behind it. She'd been there only once before, months ago. A life ago.

With Commander Ikari gone now, her only remaining anchor in life was Shinji; he was partly the cause of her current problems, but he was also the solution. Or could be, if she could get him to open up and explain what troubled him so. If not... she did not know what would happen.

I need to go in there, she told herself for at least the tenth time, brushing a few strands of hair from her eyes. I need him as much as he needs me.

Lowering her gaze to the pavement, she sighed and continued on the last hundred meters of her walk. The building's front door let her in without a problem, having no lock; navigating by memory, she took the elevator, got off on his floor and headed down the hallway.

Stopping before the door with Major Katsuragi's name on it, she hesitated, then sighed. Fear tingled about in her stomach, up her spine. He might not want to see me. I have to try, though. Lifting her head, she knocked quietly on the door and waited.

And waited.

Frowning, she knocked again, more loudly. Again, nobody answered.

Shinji? she wondered. He had not been in school, neither he nor Sohryu, and since he was not at NERV, she had assumed him to be at home. Where else could he be? There are few other places he ever goes.

Abruptly an idea occurred to her, and she tried the door. It opened.

Peeking just her head into the apartment, she glanced about and frowned. The place was sunny, almost cheery, and clean as well; the only thing she could see out of place was the wrapper to some instant meal sitting on the counter. Despite Shinji's and Sohryu's shoes near the door, the apartment was silent as one empty of people.

Feeling vaguely guilty at entering in such a fashion, Rei slipped inside, closing the door silently behind her. Moving slowly, she made certain Shinji wasn't perhaps in the kitchen or living room, then advanced down the short hallway towards his room.

Again she knocked quietly. "Shinji?"

Some manner of muffled sound came from within, followed by his voice. "Rei?"

Uncertainly she opened the door. He was lying on the bed, apparently having lifted only his head to answer her. "Shinji, I'd like to talk to you."

He blinked at her, then tore his gaze away. "Yeah," he answered quietly, sitting up. "Come in."

Rei nodded, stepping inside and closing the door. "How... how are you?" she began softly. "I wanted so badly to talk to you after the battle."

Shinji shrugged without expression, staring at her feet. "I'm pretty messed up, Rei," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what to do."

"Let me help," she urged, stepping to stand before him. "Let me do what I can."

He closed his eyes, face screwing up in apparent pain. "Why?" he asked after a moment. "Why do you still want to help me after what I did?"

"You're everything," she explained. "I'm still angry, but I don't... care for you any less. I know why you did it." Chewing a lip, she reached out, resting hands on his shoulders.

With a grimace he twisted away, scooted back on the bed until he was against the wall. "Rei, don't... just don't," he breathed. Blue eyes rose to regard her, deeply troubled.

She shifted to gaze at her hands, then let them fall to her sides. "I'm sorry," she whispered. What can I do?

He sighed, planting his face in his own hands. "Don't worry about it."

She nodded faintly. "Is there... will you ever be able to talk to me? I want to touch you. I want you to come back to me."

Shinji shivered. "I... don't know, Rei," he managed hoarsely. "It's just... the way you are, trying to help and everything, is like something a... something my... I can never forget about it."

Her heart sank. "I'm sorry," she repeated, the phrase tumbling woodenly from her lips.

"Don't be," he whispered, staring again at the floor. "It's nothing you've done. It's just... I don't know."

What he likes about me, she realized, now brings him pain. He'll be happier without me here. "I'll just... I'll let you think, then," she offered, closing her eyes.

"That's fine," he sighed quietly. "I'm sorry, Rei."

Lacking the energy to respond, she nodded, shuffled to the door and tugged it open. Pausing there, she turned back, studying him one last time, but he was still only staring glumly at the floor. With a sigh she stepped out into the hallway.

When she reached the apartment door, it opened before her hand touched it. Major Katsuragi made as if to step inside, then jerked in surprise on seeing her there. "Rei?" she wondered.

"Major Katsuragi," she greeted, keeping her face down. "I... I'm sorry." Slipping past the confused woman, she made for the elevator as fast as her weary legs would carry her.

Misato frowned after Rei as the girl disappeared around a corner, then shifted her attention to the interior of the apartment. Shrugging, she stepped inside, idly kicking her shoes off. "Shinji?" she called. "Asuka? I'm home." Nobody answered her, of course; the kids between them had more problems than she could count. She'd hoped that telling them to stay home from school for the day would let them relax somewhat, but in retrospect it had likely just made their wounds fester.

Absently tossing her beret aside, she wandered down the hallway and knocked on Shinji's door. "Hey, are you in there?"

"Misato," he groaned from within. "I'm... yeah."

Concerned, she slid the door open, then studied him. The boy was seated on his bed, head in his hands, the very picture of a man trying to contain a riotous stomach. "You okay?" she wondered carefully.

Shinji swayed with a silent chuckle. "Not at all."

"What is it?" she pressed, closing the door and sprawling comfortably on the floor. "I just saw Rei leave; she looked like someone just... I don't know. What's going on between you two? Is it the Commander?"

"A little," he shrugged, his voice subdued. "But mostly it's... Misato, it's... it's really fucked up."

She grinned encouragingly, giving his knee a backhanded slap. "I'm an expert on fucked-up relationships," she boasted. "Tell me what's going on. Maybe I can help."

He lifted his head slightly to gaze at her with haunted eyes. "Do you really want to know?" he whispered. "It's not pretty."

She nodded. "Try me. Sometimes it helps just to get it out, and I won't tell anyone."

"I know you won't," he sighed, dropping his head back to his hands. "Fine. Rei is... man, I can barely say it out loud."

Misato eyed him in concern, waiting. She's what? A robot? A lesbian?

"She's... a clone," he explained finally, the words seeming dragged out of him. "One my father made. A clone of... of my mother. With... I guess you could say Angelic highlights."

Her eyebrows climbed higher by the word. "Wow," she murmured after a moment. "That is pretty fucked up."

He sighed angrily. "I know," he growled. "I don't need you to..."

"Shinji, I'm sorry," she interrupted. "I... wasn't thinking." Pausing for a moment to think, she shook her head. "What do you want?"

Letting his hands drop, he sat up and regarded her with narrowed eyes. "What do you mean?"

Misato spread her hands. "I mean... well, there's no way to say it more clearly. What do you actually want where she is concerned?"

Shinji's angry expression slowly faded to one of worry. "You know," he murmured, "what I want hasn't changed. At all. And that's what creeps me out so much."

Misato smiled sadly. I know how that is. "Look at it this way," she suggested. "You feel that way because she fulfills some need you have. Now, maybe you're one of those people whose needs are just messed up, but they're there all the same. You're only uncomfortable because your head is trying to tell you to need something else."

"Maybe," he shrugged tiredly, leaning back against the wall. "I don't know. I just need to think about it."

"Well, thinking is good," she agreed, climbing to her feet. "As long as that's not all you do. How about you think and make dinner at the same time?"

She'd hoped for a chuckle, but Shinji only nodded wearily. "I'll get it started," he whispered, rolling to the floor and shuffling out into the hall.

Huh, mused Misato, staring after him. I wonder if I actually helped him at all.

Hikari frowned across the classroom from where she stood at its corner. Students were milling about, chatting as they waited for class to start, but between the shifting bodies she could still see the motionless forms of Shinji and Rei seated in their respective desks. They wore identical blank expressions, each focused on some point perhaps a meter or two in front of their face. "Asuka?" she asked suddenly.

The German girl stirred vaguely, seated on top of a desk near her. "What?"

"Things have settled down at my place lately," she recalled, still watching the two pilots across the room. "You can start staying with us again if you need to."

"Oh," acknowledged Asuka after a moment. "Actually, Misato's place isn't so bad anymore."

Hikari finally shifted her attention to her friend. "So you patched things up with Shinji? That's good."

Asuka scratched the side of her head uncomfortably. "Yeah, kinda. It's just... stuff lately has sort of... put things in perspective."

She smiled. "I'm happy for you. Maybe we can all start hanging out together again."

The German glanced up to meet her gaze seriously. "Things aren't going well, Hikari," she explained quietly. "Have you heard what happened with Shinji and Rei?"

"Not recently," she admitted. "Though they're not eating together anymore. Did they break up?"

Asuka's eyes went distant. "Sort of. The Commander ordered it, and Rei being Rei, she obeyed. So..." She trailed off, glancing darkly around the room to make certain no one was listening, but everyone else seemed engrossed in their own conversations. "So Shinji... killed him. Stole a gun and shot him to death."

"He... oh my God," breathed Hikari, clapping hands to her mouth. "You're joking."

"Not at all," sighed Asuka, glancing sideways at her roommate. "Then the last battle was... kind of hard on him and me, and the two of them still seem off. I have no idea what's going on between them."

Stunned, Hikari followed her friend's gaze, to where Shinji sat dully in his desk, gazing at nothing. What she had previously seen as a shy kid's cute self-containment now took on the sinister air of a killer's silent brooding. "He really did that? Wasn't that... his own father?"

"Yeah, but the guy was a douchebag," dismissed Asuka. "I don't think anyone really cared. They held Shinji for maybe half a day and then just let him go. Though now Section Two goons are all over the place."

"Well, I care," noted Hikari faintly. "He should care too. I should... I'm going to go talk to him," she decided.

"Good luck," muttered Asuka.

Ignoring her friend, Hikari wandered over to where the other pilot sat and threw herself into the seat in front of him, backwards, arms crossed over the chair's back. "Shinji," she greeted.

He blinked, eyes taking a moment to focus on her. "Oh," he murmured. "Hi, Hikari."

She swallowed. "I... heard what happened," she explained quietly. "Or at least some of it."

Shinji slumped and dropped his gaze. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

As well you should be, she scolded silently. "Did you... did you really...?"

"Shoot him?" finished Shinji flatly. "Yeah. I just... I just wanted to threaten him, to make him tell Rei it was okay for us to... to... but then we argued, and I got so mad, and it just sort of..." He paused, turning his face away, rubbing at his eyes. "This isn't how I wanted it to be," he whispered hoarsely. "You have to believe me."

"I... do," she allowed after a moment. "Shinji, I'm still your friend, but this... this is serious, and..."

"I know," he growled, slamming his fist down on the desk. She jumped, flinching; Shinji noticed her reaction and sagged again, seemingly near tears. "No, I'm sorry, Hikari. I didn't mean to snap at you. I just... anyway, when this is all over, I figure they'll want to send me to prison then. If so, I'll go."

"Prison," she repeated softly. Warmth stung her eyes. "Oh, Shinji. If... if there's anything I can do, let me know."

He smiled, the bitter expression of a hopeless man listening to others around him dream. "Thank you, Hikari. I'll do that."

She nodded uncomfortably. Standing, she made her way back towards Asuka, but couldn't help glancing over her shoulder. Weird. He seemed like such a nice, quiet kid.

"This one's showing no abnormal readings," reported Maya cheerily. "Shall I go ahead and start the transfer?"

Ritsuko nodded, and the younger woman bent over her console, fingers flying. They sat in the plug lab, surrounded by tanks full of soulless Rei clones; the LCL in them turned normal white light to a vague bloody orange, leaving the room a forbidding, alien air, though Maya seemed not to mind it. Probably because I'm here, she decided wryly.

Standing, Ritsuko thrust hands into the pockets of her coat and strolled over to the subject of today's experiment. A dummy plug like the others already in existence, this one was designed to be different. To carry a stronger personality than the originals, hopefully one strong enough to dominate Unit-01 in the case of a breakdown by Shinji. Another breakdown, she amended.

"Transfer in process," announced Maya, scanning the figures on her console. "Looks like... ten minutes until completion."

"Noted." Ritsuko studied the smooth metal plug impassively, though inside she simmered with frustration. I don't see why this one will work any better than the others. Even the living Rei can't control Unit-01; how would these plugs serve any different?

It was just like Gendo to order something like this, she reflected. Just like him to build something unnatural for the sole purpose of stepping on the living soul of his dead wife, all supposedly in pursuit of the goal of joining with her again. Are you so sure she'll be glad to see you? wondered Ritsuko with a faint smile. She did try to kill you not so long ago. And then Shinji did it for her. I told you not to upset a woman like that.

Chuckling to herself, Ritsuko checked the time, then resigned herself to patience. Why am I even doing this? she wondered idly. I know it's not going to work. Hell, Maya probably knows it's not going to work; she just likes messing with this stuff for fun. We're only here because he wanted it. Just like them, she added silently, glancing at the tanks.

An idea surfaced in her mind; she froze. "Maya?"

"Yes?"

"This shouldn't take two people to handle," noted Ritsuko reasonably. "I can see to it, if you want to head home."

The younger woman glanced up from where she sat. "Oh, Doctor, it's no trouble to stay."

Ritsuko waved away the offer. "Don't worry about it. I'm just planning to finish this up before leaving myself."

"Okay." Smiling her thanks, Maya gathered her things and headed out the heavy steel door.

Ritsuko shifted her gaze absently to the tanks all around the room. Yui, for once I believe we are in agreement.

Rei slipped through the sparse crowd in the NERV trauma ward without a second glance. One of the benefits of being a doll, it seemed, was the complete trust everyone else placed in her. If she were spotted doing something expected, say, palming two plastic-wrapped packages from storage, then certainly she was doing it under Doctor Akagi's orders.

Unconfronted, barely even seen, she made her way to the elevator, keeping her gaze focused straight ahead. Doll-like, uninterested. She shared the ascent with two NERV logistical officers who stood behind her, chatting about baseball. She did not glance away from the elevator doors until they opened for her to step off.

The walk back to her building proved similarly uneventful, a quiet passage along warm sunlit streets. Hidden cicadas buzzed at one another throughout.

Once she reached the final safety of her apartment she closed the door carefully behind her, then rummaged around for writing materials. Quickly she managed to find herself a pad of paper and a pen Shinji had once left by accident, a blue thing with rainbows all over it.

Tapping the pen briefly against her lips, she pondered what she wanted to say, how to explain so he would understand. Then, nodding, she began to write.

Ritsuko brought up a seldom-used menu on one of the few MAGI consoles in the facility. On it, she could access all the environmental controls in the clone tanks. Could and did.

After keying in the changes she wanted, she paused, glancing up at the unholy tanks all around. The clones stared back at her, of course, grinning, delighted to see another person.

It was strange; after all this time, Ritsuko only now realized how she hated the things, hated them with a cold passion. Hated their vacant smiles, hated how aware they were, how they always tracked any movement in the room. Hated how even soulless spare parts had occupied a greater portion of Gendo's worry than she herself had. I lost to dolls, she sighed. How pathetic. Even now, with their destruction at her fingertips, they made her skin crawl.

But not for much longer, she sighed. More times than she had been able to count, Gendo had finished before her, had reached climax while she hovered just at the edge, had lost interest and stopped without spending the extra minute to share his bliss with her. And now he'd gone and done it again, dying before she was able to cripple him with a masterstroke of revenge. In that case, I'm doing this for me. For everyone.

Without hesitating she tapped the final key, committing her changes. The ambient noise in the room changed slightly as pipes in under the floor, in the ceiling, rerouted the liquids they supplied. A moment later, clouds of inky black appeared in the tanks and grew, a toxic acid pumped in from the tops. The color of the LCL quickly changed from the familiar hue of blood to something ugly.

Gradually the replacements began to dissolve, falling apart at the seams like so many plastic dolls. Even as they were destroyed, they continued to smile, to giggle at her, uncomprehending.

Loathsome things. Wearing a smile she felt more on her face than in her heart, she watched as the last few pieces separated into their invisible component materials.

For a moment she gazed thoughtfully at the tanks, now empty and dark. Then she flipped off the room lights and headed for the door.

Rei wrote sparingly and finished the letter in moments. Carefully she placed it on the dresser, next to the glasses that had once been the Commander's. After a brief pause she set the pen atop it; Shinji could have it back when he found it.

She'd explained her reasoning as straightforwardly as she could. He had made it clear, if not in so many words, that his heart no longer had a place for her, not if he wanted to remain whole. Rei wanted Shinji to be whole, to be happy. Though this would sadden him for a time, he would eventually recover, and with her replacement he would have the chance to start over if he wanted to. The third would be receptive enough, she knew, if she carried the same soul, if Shinji offered the same heart.

With a blink she realized she was hesitating, trying to delay the only viable option open to her. Smoothing a frown, she turned her back on the dresser and recovered the packages she'd retrieved from NERV earlier. They tore open easily enough, revealing a clean syringe in one and a bottle in the other.

Wandering absently back to the bed, she sat there and read the label on the bottle, more for the sake of curiosity than concern. The chemical claimed to be methohexital, an anesthetic; it was intended to be administered in a one-percent solution, five hundred milligrams of drug in fifty milliliters of diluent. Prepare mixture before application. Do not administer if patient is pregnant or breast-feeding, or has a history of liver or heart problems.

Without expression Rei stuck the syringe through the cap in the bottle and drew what it would take from the first partition, then the second. She had no diluent, had no need for one.

Watching briefly as the chemicals swirled and mixed in the syringe, turning yellowish, she lay back on the bed and got comfortable. Curiously she examined her left arm, searching for a suitable spot for injection, not entirely certain what she was looking for. A vein, I suppose.

Eventually she shrugged faintly, chose a spot and slid the syringe into it. She squeezed slowly, the room-temperature liquid feeling icy as it slipped silently into her body.

When the syringe was empty, she extracted it slowly, lips tight, and set it on the floor next to the bed. Then she lay back once more, turning her head to the window. It was sunny out, still; for some reason the sight made her smile. Maybe it was the silly window clings Shinji had chosen so long ago.

Shinji. The thought of him, the image of his face, gripped tightly at her heart, or perhaps it was just the drug taking effect. Shinji, my love. I'm so sorry. I hope you understand.

Swallowing, she closed her eyes, felt the warm sun on her tear-damp face. Then she went to sleep.