Author's Note: Hey, how is everyone? If you're like me, you're grumbling about the end of summer and school starting so early... Sigh. Ah well, get it over with, I say. Ok, I think I'm going to title Chapters 26, 27, and 28 the "Longest Day" Arc. So much has to happen that I've had to break it up into 2 chapters. I hope you guys like it!
And a thanks to Skippyscat for being my beta!
Review Responses:
Strangedream: Hey girl. I'm glad you liked the chapter and I hope I answered your questions in the e-mail I sent. Thank you for reviewing and thanks for e-mailing me. I love mail :). Take care!
Kou-Kagerou: Hey Miss Lady. Don't let school kill you now. I'm trying not to let it get me, but I'm nowhere near as busy as you are chic. You are doing some awesome work, and I'd love to see more of your drawings. You know the Slayers are gonna have fun teasing the heck out of Marie and Folken...or rather, I'm going to have fun (rubs palms together). No, the war hasn't ended yet. I still shiver to approach that mess, but the strange calm is the "calm before the storm." They know the fight's coming, but they've prepared all they can, all they can do is wait now. Waiting is enough to kill a body, so they're having a little fun to take the edge off of it ;). Slayer bickering is fun...too fun. I'll have them kiss and make up... soon :D. Allen in uncomfortable situations is almost more fun than Van in uncomfortable situations, hehe! More bets to come...since the day isn't quite over. Someone's going to be very rich by the end of, and a lot of other someone's will be broke lol. This chapter is the middle of the longest day, and hopefully the next chapter will be the last of it and I'll be over this crazy hump and everything will be out in the open for everyone. Then I can... END the story! Yippee! Never thought that was coming, did ya? Thanks for reviewing chic; I always appreciate it! Take care!
Glass Angel1: Cliffhangers are fun! I don't really do many of them, so when I find a chance, I try to throw them in ;). Folken is very dense when it comes to human relations lol. Ha, Hitomi... I keep forgetting about her, but whenever she's mentioned, I remember...oh yeah...wait til she finds out Van isn't interested! Thanks for much for reviewing and I hope you like the new chapter. Take care!
Gadget 151: Lol, hey girl. You go to a school where they give you a laptop and e-mail? Awesome. When I was in highschool... yikes, lets not think about that time... but we weren't that high tech lol. They barely gave us internet access and that was only in the library, oh and in computer science. Well, I hope to hear from you again and I hope you had a great summer too! Take care and thanks for reviewing!
Pocketfirefairy: Lol! What about me and my cliffys? ;). Lol, thanks for reviewing chic. Take care and I hope you like the new chapter.
S.P. Vinter: Hey Lady, nice talking to ya again! Geez... Folken, Marie and their 7 children... but you know what...since they already have 7 kids, that means Marie won't have to worry about "having" anymore. What a good way to get out of childbirth... hmm.. Lol (j/k). Lol, that is Hitomi in a nutshell, a necessary evil! Nope no big comebacks for Hitomi except for the stuff she does to end the war, that I can briefly sum up...oh, and she must learn about Van's interests ;). Muhahaha! Then she'll go home and never want to come back. Lol, dumbass Allen may have his epiphany in this chapter ;). There's more Slayer interaction too :). I really hope you like this chapter. So much has to happen, and I'm still not through. It's the day that never ends...lol. Take care and thanks for reviewing!
Renluva: Lol, I'm not bummed. Any review is a good review :). I'm grateful that you gave me a shout out. I'm impressed if yo got through all of that chapter in 10 minutes, and I hope you get more time to read this new chapter. Take care and thanks for reviewing!
Macky: Hey, thank you! Thanks for reviewing! Take care!
Nikku: Hey chic. See, I updated this month; not as soon as I said I would though. I sat on this chapter for much too long lol. The next one may not take so long now that school is starting and I have hour and thirty minute breaks between classes. I get a LOT of writing done in those breaks with nothing else to do. The end is near... after the Longest Day Arc is over in the next chapter, I can start shutting down shop. Lol, yes, Shesta/Guimel wars last forever and usually conclude by being forgotten because it's taken so long for them to come to a consensus. Merle is becoming an interesting character for me to pop in every now and again; I'm glad you like her. Hitomi...bah humbug. I shouldn't have used the word "vegan." I only meant it in the vegetarian sense; I forgot it was a whole set of beliefs. Dilandau refuses to eat flesh, dairy he just doesn't care for, but has no real problem with it. Sorry for the confusion. Lol, ah the soldiers are affected by war, but you have to be able to laugh and make light of things, or you'll go nuts. Who says Viole is the only thing that irritates Miguel? ;). And what's Viole care about being nice to Van lol? The Miguel/Van has faded; though Van thinks he's being secretive about his crush, just about everyone in the castle knows about it by now. There will be more on that in the next chapter. Hehehe, you'll see who finds Dilandau in a bit :). Glad you liked Allen's rant. He's fun to get riled up. Sorry this took so long to get up and thank you so much for reviewing. Love ya chica!
KentouKurige: Hello! Lol, I'm really glad you enjoy the story. I wish I could update more, but there's just not enough hours in the day to get to work on everything that needs to be done. I've been trying so hard to finish this story, and new aspects to explore keep popping up. I will try t keep my updates regular though. Thanks for reviewing and take care!
Jhaylin: Lol! I have to find a way to add in more cliffhangers, muhahahaha! Anyways, thanks for reviewing and I hope what happens in the chapter is enough to make up for the last :). Take care!
Higashikaze: Lol, Marie and Folken will get married and the banner attached to the limo will say: About Damn Time! So glad you're fond of Marie. She was a kinda added in character that was never supposed to be anything special, but she grew on me, and it makes me smile to know that she's grown on you too. The itch– mental, lol. Bwahaha, Van is so fun. His obsession... I actually sit and think of what new, creepy/weird thing he could do next to amuse myself lol. Sniff, sniff... Celena and Valeska...punks... snickering behind her hand... :'). Lol, well the previous chapter wasn't supposed to be a filler, it was a lead in for this one which will conclude in the next. The Longest Day, I'm calling it lol. I'm glad you still like the story, and actually... you can read "If I Didn't Know Better." Your reason for not liking the Dilan/Van pairing was different from what I thought it was. "If I Didn't Know..." is just a cute short story about an outing the two had :). Take care and thanks for reviewing!
SkippysCat: Hey! As usual, we've talked about ever inch of this review and then some. I will take this time to praise you for being a wonderful beta reader for whom I am very grateful. You really should demand payment for all the reading you do for me and the helpful hints, suggestions, and comments you make. Thanks again girl!
Chapter 27
Allen ran his hand over the large wooden steering wheel of his airship, imagining clear blue skies and endless clouds and wishing he was sailing through them, far away from this place and all the problems it brewed.
"You look like you're plotting a 'break and run,' Boss," Gaddes informed him, approaching from behind and patting his back. "Want to talk about it?"
Allen frowned at Gaddes intrusion. The man could make a little noise before he entered a room, especially if the room's sole occupant looked to be lost in thought. He turned to his first hand, leaning with his elbow on the wheel. "Talk about what?– the way my life continues to fall apart around me?"
Gaddes blinked; perhaps he hadn't been expecting Allen to be so straightforward with his answer. "Boss?" He asked, concern seeping into his placid expression, molding his face into a different mask.
Gaddes was clean-shaven that morning, exposing lines Allen had never noticed. They were not the young boys they'd been when they'd first started out together. It had been a long run, but they'd somehow survived it.
"I don't suppose I could say to you: Nothing, Gaddes. Ignore me– and have you actually go away, could I?"
Allen gave Gaddes credit for actually looking like he was considering the idea, before shaking his head and drawing a stool– that sat to the right of them– to his rear with his foot. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and chin in his hands, awaiting Allen's explanation for his dreary comment.
Allen sighed, looking back out at the sky and watching a "V" of birds fly past. What kind of an explanation could he manufacture for Gaddes that the man would actually believe. The truth was too odd to be truth, and a lie would be too real to be real at this point.
When he took too long to form a response, Gaddes spoke for him. "What happened when you went home, Boss? When you left the other day, you were ok. You were lightening up, starting to accept new things, and now it's like we're back to square one."
Allen's eyes narrowed. "Define square one."
Gaddes frowned at him, studying his expression. "If you're looking for someone to argue with Boss, I'm gone. I just want to talk to you, and if you can't do this without looking for a reason to blow up at me..."
"Define square one, Gaddes. I'm not going to get mad; I just need to know what you're talking about."
"Square One: You're back to being angry about nothing, always looking like you're chewing your face, clamming up all the time, and glaring at Silver Boss. I thought you two had a truce or something."
Allen didn't make truces with things that shouldn't exist. "Dilandau and I can never have a truce of any sort."
Gaddes frowned, inching his stool closer to Allen. "Why do you say that? You were ready to give it a shot. I saw you shake his hand, and you helped Van take care of him the other day."
Allen shrugged. "Then I learned the truth behind him."
"In going home?" Gaddes cracked his knuckles, frown deepening.
Allen began to pace the wooden deck. "Going home was only the beginning of it. Everything..." Allen reached the end of the room and turned to face Gaddes, tangling both hands in his hair and pulling hard. The fresh pain brought some clarity to his train of thought. "Everything is a mess. There's so much that I don't understand going on, and I don't know if I want to. Folken told me one thing, but I know better than to believe everything I'm told. Celena... hell, she's half crazy anyway..."
"Folken?– Celena?" Gaddes stopped Allen's mad babbling. "Your sister, Celena? You saw her? Whoa, Boss, is she what happened when you went home? Was she there?"
Allen started pacing again, hands still tugging at his roots. "Was she there? Yes, yes she was– all pretty and golden, dressed in rags. Finally home."
Gaddes leapt up from his stool, crossing the floor in long strides to get to Allen. Strong arms halted Allen in his pacing and forced him still, taking his hands and bringing them down to his sides. "Snap out of it and talk to me, Boss. Celena's home now and you left her alone? Why didn't you bring her here and what does any of it have to do with Folken?"
Allen took a deep breath and held it in an attempt to calm himself. He'd held himself together so nicely until then. He couldn't let Gaddes suspect that he was anything less than sane or he wouldn't believe a word Allen said.
Allen gently pulled away from Gaddes, turning and combing his fingers through his hair to straighten it. He shut his eyes and schooled his expression before facing Gaddes again. "Celena left again. Zaibach took her; she's been with Zaibach all this time."
Gaddes' eyes widened as he made an unseen connection. "Boss... did Folken know Celena while he was with Zaibach?– how about Silver Boss? They couldn't have known she was your sister, or they would have said something."
Allen was quiet and Gaddes jumped to a conclusion. "They knew and didn't say a word and you found out!"
Gaddes was right and wrong at the same time and Allen didn't know how to go about correcting him. They did know. "They knew about Celena, yes, but Dilandau doesn't know her relation to me."
"So Folken did, but why didn't he tell you? Didn't he know you were looking for her? And even if you weren't, if those bastards were holding the poor girl prisoner for all those years, you'd think Folken would try to get her out of there."
Gaddes was such a good man. He'd stacked the odds out of Folken's favor, but he was still willing to believe the man had good intentions. Allen watched Gaddes' face as the man debated on what he wanted to say or ask next. Finally, he heaved a sigh, going back to his stool and nodding at Allen from his position across the room.
"I can tell from the way you're looking at me I'm screwing it up, so how about I shut up and you tell your story, starting with what happened the night you went home. That's when things started getting messy for you, so that's what I want to hear."
Allen grunted, slowly walking back to the wheel and leaning his long body against it with a soft hiss. His body hadn't forgotten the beating it had taken in the last battle as easily as his mind had.
"Well? Do I get a story from you or do I get to bother Van's brother for one? Though the guy still kinda gives me the creeps, I'm tired of being left in the dark."
And Allen was just tired.
"I went home for peace of mind. I was sitting down, reading this silly book my father used to like..."
"We never decided on the color of the sails. Were we just gonna let Lord Dilandau pick it?"
Guimel jumped, nearly falling off the Alseid foot he was perched on at the sound of Dallet's voice so close. "Damn, Dally, trying to give me a heart attack?"
Dallet grinned as he wiped oil stained hands on his blue denim pants and slicked his hair back with axle grease from his nails. He needed a bath worse than King Van needed a freakin' clue.
"That wasn't quite the effect I had in mind." Dallet plopped down next to him, letting out the sigh of a man that had worked too hard. Guimel caught a whiff of his partner's scent, wrinkling his nose and giving him a shove away. "I was just checking to make sure you were still on this plane of existence. Been calling your name for a bit. Whatcha' thinking so hard about?"
Guimel blinked. Dallet had been calling him? He hadn't heard anything. Guimel rubbed his forehead, frowning and wondering how long he'd been sitting there. Dallet was apparently through tinkering with the Alseides.
"Well?" Dallet bumped his knee.
"You are ripe, man." Guimel chose to ignore Dallet's question as he was lost on how to answer it. He didn't know what he'd been thinking about exactly. Maybe it had something to do with Lord Dilandau or maybe Shesta. Maybe everyone. Guimel didn't want to dwell on it. He filed the thoughts away in place he didn't like to look in and only pulled upon by accident.
That was what he got for having too much free time on his hands.
"It's what happens to men when they work." Dallet looked pointedly at Guimel who tossed his arms up to the heavens as an offering of self.
"Well, what can I do, Dally? I try to help ya and you chew my face off for handing you the wrong screwy wrenches."
"You really do suck at handiwork, Guy," Dallet chuckled, throwing an arm around Guimel's shoulders and holding him firmly in place as he tried to squirm away from his strong odor.
Guimel fought his way out of Dallet's sweaty embrace only to end up with his head under Dallet's bare underarm, left cheek stuck to a nice patch of musty stubble. "Gah, Dally!"
"Say I'm your master."
"I'm not saying that shit head!"
"Oh, is that what I am?" Dallet purred, tightening his hold and laughing when Guimel hollered. "Now... mind your manners slave, and maybe I'll..."
Dallet squealed like a stuck pick and suddenly Guimel was gasping fresh air. He scrubbed at the side of his face, eyes widening at the oil coming away on his once clean palm. "Gross!"
He turned to pummel Dallet only to find him already on the ground, wrestling with Kio as a throng of sweaty men cheered them on. Reeden's hand clamped down on his shoulder. "You all right there, Guy? You went a long time without oxygen."
"Almost died; thanks for the rescue," Guimel said, staring at his soiled hands and rubbing it on the pants he wore. Oh well, they were Dallet's anyway.
Reeden invited himself to sit beside Guimel, his small eyes studying him in a curious manner that irritated the hell out of Guimel. "What do you want, Reed?"
"Ah..." Reeden shrugged, chewing on the side of his lower lip in hesitation, then deciding to go on with what he wanted to ask. "It's about Silver Boss. He's... not all right, is he?"
Guimel started for the second time that day, staring at Reeden. "What do you mean he's not all right? You talking about my leader?"
He wouldn't look at the older man for he'd see the unabashed pity in his brown eyes that Guimel couldn't acknowledge. Pity was for losers, and Guimel befriended none of that sort.
Reeden raised both hands in a non-offensive manner. "Hey, hey... I'm not talking like that."
"Then what are you talking like?" Guimel's voice was raising and he knew he was drawing attention. The sounds of Dallet and Kio's rumble quieted, as did the cheers.
"Nothing, nothing at all." Reeden shook his head, trying to smile but not quite pulling it off. Nervous hands patted the bandana on his head and he rose. "Forget I even said anything, ok? I was just– I don't know, being stupid."
"Yeah, you were being stupid," Guimel sneered, also rising; eyes narrowing. Righteous anger warmed his blood like hot coals under a kettle. How dare this man make assumptions about things that he didn't know, about things that he had no business to know! He sounded like everyone else.
He was Shesta; he was Gatty... he was Dallet!
"Everything's fine! Everything is just fine for anyone who wants to know!" Guimel yelled the first part at Reeden, and the next part at rest of the room. He was the center of attention and for once, he didn't like it. His heart pounded in his chest and something inside him kept screaming, "Run, you idiot!"
He tried, but something caught his wrist. "You couldn't wait to have histrionics in private?" Dallet's grip was surprisingly firm to be so damp.
"Let me the hell go, before I do something!" Guimel snarled, but Dallet didn't ease his grip. Instead, he tightened it, pulling Guimel to his side and marching him out of the hangar, eyes and gossip blazing holes through the backs of their shirts.
Dallet pushed him past the hangar's main entrance towards the service tunnels and released him, shoving him against the wall when he tried to storm away. "Speak."
"I lost it! Leave me alone!" The last thing Guimel needed to do was talk. He wanted to destroy something, make something else hurt like he did. There was a screaming pain somewhere in his chest. It was like someone had punched through his ribs and ripped his heart out, squeezing it to keep the blood flowing.
Dallet stood directly in front of him, fencing Guimel in with his back against the wall. He felt like a caged beast. "Move Dallet!" A firm push did nothing to unsettled Dallet's balance, instead Dallet took a step closer, invading his personal space.
"I'm not going anywhere, Guy, so I guess you might as well say something productive. I'm not looking to be here all day."
"Then get the hell out of my way and we can both leave!" Guimel narrowed his eyes at the stubborn look in Dallet's brown ones, wondering how much strength he could put into a rush. He didn't have any running room, so he wouldn't have any momentum. Dallet was too heavy to fall from something like that.
I need leverage.
Dallet was chewing his bottom lip in frustration. "Gu..."
Guimel moved forward as hard as he could, throwing his weight at Dallet and hooking a leg around Dallet's knee. He felt his good buddy wavering, balance teetering, and Guimel pulled his leg back, ready to duck out of Dallet's way and escape.
He wasn't counting on Dallet grabbing onto his elbows as hard as he did and bringing him down on top of him.
That wasn't the way Dallet played! Dallet was supposed to fall, trying to avoid bringing Guimel down with him at all cost. He'd never do anything that might injure a teammate. Guimel's eyes widened in surprise as he toppled downward, landing hard on Dallet, who was quick to use Guimel's confusion to his advantage. Guimel had the wind knocked out of him as he found himself on his back on the floor with one of Dallet's knees planted firmly in his chest.
Guimel wheezed painfully as Dallet's face inched closer to his. "So, I'm gonna guess what happened. You and Shesta had another verbal spar and he won, and now you want to take it out on a whole room of unsuspecting innocents."
Guimel snorted.
Shesta won? Shesta hadn't won anything.
"We didn't have an argument!"
Guimel did not like being on the floor... not with boys anyway. He punched out at Dallet and Dallet jerked out of the way of his fist. It was his turn to be surprised that Guimel had aimed for his face. Dallet's sudden movement gave Guimel exactly what he needed, he rocked to the left, in the direction Dallet had dodged, successfully knocking Dallet off him. He sat, lunging for his opponent immediately, taking Dallet down in a wild tackle. They rolled over the floor, fighting for who would be on top, grabbing at each others' arms in a manner that may have looked like desperate gropes from afar as they tried to keep the other from delivering blows.
They met a wall; both grunting as their backs struck hard stone and springing away from each other. Guimel climbed to his feet, glaring at Dallet as he did the same. They circled one another like boxers, waiting for an opening.
"Hey, Slayer fight!"
"Is that Guy and Dally?"
"Five bills says they were sleeping with the same woman and found out!"
"Ten bills says she's pregnant and don't know which one's the father!"
The hell?– Shit!– Guimel didn't duck the punch Dallet threw at him and grunted at the explosion of pain from Dallet's knuckles blasting into the tender bone of his cheek. That was gonna bruise!
The rage was leaving Dallet's face as he stared at his fist as if he'd never seen it before. "Guy, oh gods, I didn't..."
Guimel swung, catching Dallet in the mouth and watching him stagger backward a few steps. "Bastard!"
Dallet straightened, touching fingers to his split lip and studying the blood, before looking back at Guimel. Strangely, his eyes hadn't regained their anger. They were cool, but not unkind. "I don't know what the hell has gotten into you, but if you don't want to tell me, I can't make you."
"That's right you can't! Because... because all you'll do is play Shesta and tell me how stupid I am!"
Dallet frowned. "Shesta called you stupid?"
"He might as well! Who else lives in fantasy land but stupid people? People too dumb to know what's real and what isn't!"
"What are you talking about?"
"Shesta, Gatty, Miguel, Viole, YOU! All of you! You all think I'm so stupid, huh?" Guimel rubbed at his face, liking the pain touching the injury brought. "Well, we'll see who's stupid when... when..."
He stopped, taking notice of all of the foreign faces gathered around them, staring and whispering, some with smiles some with concerned frowns.
"What the hell are you people staring at? This ain't a show! This is... Dammit all to hell..." Guimel whirled, turning from Dallet and shoving his way through the crowd of soldiers and servants that tried to part for him. He wandered down the service tunnel, growling at anybody who dared place themselves in his path.
Someone was following him, and from the heaviness of his step, Guimel only had one guess as to who it could be.
"Go away Dallet."
"I wanna know when I'm going to be stupid."
"You're stupid right now!" Guimel roared, stopping his tracks and letting Dallet slam into him. "All of you are stupid right now, but you won't believe me until he proves you're stupid."
"Who's he?" Dallet didn't try to turn Guimel to face him, and Guimel didn't bother to make the effort either. He didn't want to see Dallet. He didn't want to see anyone.
Or maybe... maybe he didn't want anyone to see him.
"Lord Dilandau! When he's all better, we're going to laugh at you! When Folken and Marie figure out what it is they missed, or Lord Dilandau gets better on his own, we'll all laugh! He's too stubborn a bastard to just... just die! Hell would throw him back out! They don't like our kind in the afterlife. You should know that Dallet! You used to know that!"
His eyes were burning, stinging in that way that meant... no! No tears! But he could already feel them soiling his cheeks and taste their saltiness on his lips. This was Dallet's fault! Why wasn't he on Guimel's side anymore? How...
How could he let Shesta win?
Guimel turned on his friend, punching at him again, but missing his target as his vision blurred. Dammit! Both hands connected against Dallet's chest and he rushed at him, slamming him hard into the wall beside a door. Something delicate rattled, but Guimel could hardly hear the clinking of crystal on the other side of the wall over the blood pounding in his ears. "How could you..." he kept his grip on Dallet's shoulders, short nails digging into his bare skin; Dallet's shirt had no sleeves. Guimel slammed him again, only satisfied when Dallet's head rocked back and struck the wall as well.
"Feel that, Dallet? Does it hurt?" Guimel shrieked. "That's how I feel dammit! That's what I feel!"
Dallet wasn't fighting him. "Fight me! Don't let me do this to you! You can't just let me win!"
Dallet didn't make a move against him.
"Fight! Gods, why won't anyone fight anymore? Why won't he fight, Dallet?"
"Guy..."
Guimel slammed him again. "Make me let go, Dallet! You can take me... you can take anything! He can take anything, but he won't! Why!"
"Guimel, listen to me..."
"Why can't he fight..."
"He's fighting, Guimel."
"He's letting it win."
"He's not letting anything win."
"But..."
"He's doing his best, Guimel, and we've gotta do ours."
"But why does our best involve giving up?" Guimel tried to yell, but he'd lost the power to. His voice was thick and heavy. It was getting harder and harder to speak and he was having trouble pronouncing the words as his lips trembled.
Dallet sighed, and Guimel gave him another weak shove before letting him go, standing in front of him with his head bowed in defeat.
"We're not giving up, Guy. No one's giving up. We're just preparing for the worst. There are two battles: one happening now and one that will happen later that will depend on the outcome of the present battle. Lord Dilandau always taught us to be ready, to let nothing take us by surprise. We're being good soldiers to our captain, Guimel. He taught us well, and it would hurt him to know that you've forgotten one of his lessons."
Guimel's breath came in small, shaky shudders. "But... this lesson sucks."
"Lessons aren't meant to be enjoyed. Why else would kids hate school so much?"
"Stop making jokes."
"I'm not."
Guimel raised his head, wiping at his eyes and dabbing at his nose, to stare at Dallet. His dark haired buddy was pale and his mouth was swollen and starting to discolor. "I won't give in."
"No one's asking you too."
"He's not going to die."
"No one said he was."
"But... but I can... If it..."
"Guy," Dallet's voice was soft, hesitant. "When you can finish those sentences, I'm here."
Guimel sighed. Leaving Shesta's room, he'd already finished those sentences. Sitting in the hangar, he'd finished the sentences. When had Dallet finished them? Didn't they do everything together?
"You're here, huh?"
Everything but grow up.
"Yeah."
When did you get so old, Dally?
"Then..."
Dallet waited patiently as Guimel shifted his weight from foot to foot.
"...please don't move."
Guimel tensed when Dallet reached out for him and grunted as he was pulled into a light hug.
"And you don't believe him?"
Allen was sitting on Gaddes' stool watching the other man pace. Gaddes stared at Allen, chewing on the end of an unlit cigarette.
"Would you? The entire thing is absolutely ludicrous..."
"But you saw Celena change right there in front of you," Gaddes pulled the cigarette from his lips, waving it at Allen. "You know what Folken says is possible."
Allen tossed his hands up in the air. "Yes, so maybe I do believe in the Fate whatever- ation process, but are you telling me you'd be willing to believe Dilandau is part of my family?"
"Well Boss..." The cigarette went back into his mouth and Allen wondered when the man would shred the rolled bundle of weeds with his teeth. Gaddes scratched his head then let his fingers wander to his forehead, rubbing the center of it. "I don't know what to say."
Allen sighed, shaking his head. "I didn't think you would." But now you understand, you have to...
"But I do know that Dilandau is a decent kid, no matter where he came from, and treating him and his people like shit isn't going to help you any. Even if he's not a part of you, maybe he can help you to understand what is."
What?
"Gad..."
"Boss, look. This is crazy; you don't understand, I don't understand, but you can't take it out on that kid. I'm trying to put myself in your shoes, and I can't. There's no way I'll ever see Silver Boss as more than a victim in all of this– a victim that needs a break. Geez, Boss, you just told me the kid's dying. How old is he?–what, 14, 15? I'm supposed to look at him and see a monster?"
Allen blinked. "Gaddes, have you been listening. He's not a real person!"
"What is a real person to you, Boss? I'm not quite sure I get your requirements for legitimacy."
Allen was incredulous. Dilandau was something born from a lab, an offspring of a twisted experiment performed on his baby sister! "Gaddes!"
"Silver Boss eats, sleeps, breathes, bleeds, loves his men, and has a great mind. Any unreal people you know do all that?"
Allen rolled his eyes. Gaddes didn't get it. "Yes, Dilandau is alive and... and he's real because we can see him, but what's inside? What makes him tick? Something like him can't possibly process things like we do. He can't have the same kind of conscience or emotion..."
"Boss! Where have you been for the past month this kid has been here? You can't really believe the stuff you're saying; you're just mad! It's real easy to dismiss him as none of your concern because he's not human, as you claim. But you're making him that way, and you know it. If you're going to judge Silver Boss that way, you'll have to judge Lord Van on the same scale. Now he's really not human!– not all the way."
"Van's different!"
"How so?"
Well... Allen chewed his lower lip. He wasn't manufactured, but even that was starting to sound lame to his own ears. Gaddes was making sense and Allen was mature enough to admit it.
"Fine, Dilandau is human."
"And he's a good kid," Gaddes insisted. "You know that too, or else you wouldn't be helping Van pursue him."
Allen groaned, nodding his head in reluctance.
Allen just– he hated thinking about where Dilandau had originated. He saw little Celena as a lab specimen, a poor, sweet, innocent... Oh gods, did he just use the words "sweet" and "innocent" to describe the horrible monster that had been Cel...
He felt ill.
"Boss, you all right? You need some cold water?" Gaddes sounded a little scared.
What if...
Celena had always acted like two children: one decent, one awful.
Gods. What if...
"Gaddes?"
"Yeah, what is it?" Gaddes' hands were on his shoulders.
"I told you about my sister; how she was– two different kids sometimes. I need you to... I mean, I think I know... Gods, I think I know. I knew this morning at breakfast, but tell me. Celena was two kids, and Folken says she's been split in half. As you pointed out, how can I not believe Folken? I've seen her change, but into what?"
"Boss, I'm gonna get you some water."
"No, tell me something first," Allen reached up to cover the hands Gaddes had on either of his shoulders. "Celena was split in half, one half the ok kid, the other half the kid I wouldn't wish on a devil. Which do you think Dilandau is... if we're believing that half of Celena's personality was his?"
Gaddes chewed his cigarette, cocking his head at Allen with a light frown. "I never met Celena boss, but when you tell your stories I almost thought you were describing two different children. Judging from what I know and have seen from Silver Boss, he's the better deal and what's left... the girl you saw the other day, that's the one you'd lead to water. And when she changed into that warlord Valeska... it wasn't much of a change, was it? How different did she look?"
Allen sighed, brushing Gaddes' hands off him and covering his face. "Not very different at all. The only thing that changed were her eyes. She still looked like Celena– Father's child; Mother referred to her as Father's child. She had Mother's curls and Mother's eyes, but she was his. When I saw her, I saw Father."
Gaddes chuckled softly. "But you don't see your Father in you?"
"No," Allen patted his knees. "I take after Mother. You've never seen portraits of my Father or Celena, have you?"
"No. I've only seen your Ma. Good looking lady, and you do look a lot like her, but..."
"But?" Allen found a loose string on his tan colored slacks. How had that happened? He tugged at it, careful not to rip any seams.
"I seen somebody who looks more like your Ma," Gaddes said easily.
Allen glanced up from his work to meet Gaddes' eyes. "Gaddes– you're not me, but if this was happening to you, would you believe what Folken says, everything that Folken says?"
Gaddes' eyes lost focus as he dove deep into thought. He hummed a pleasant tune, leaning on the wheel. Allen waited patiently for his answer for it would declare the winner of the duel going on in Allen's heart. Celena was two children, one good, one bad. Celena may have had two souls. Celena was not crazy and her "little brother" was more than imaginary. But...
But Folken was asking for too much.
The dead baby, could he really give Dilandau's name to the baby that the gods didn't allow a chance.
But maybe science had...
There was something going on outside the airship. The men were getting rowdy, but Allen didn't care to find out what was going on. He needed Gaddes' say.
He was tired and needed someone to do the work for him. Make his choice, because he was bad at choosing.
Hitomi, mistake. Millerna, mistake. Marlene... gods. Celena... great good gods. Mother, forgive me.
"I wouldn't believe it..."
Allen almost gasped. Gaddes didn't. Dilandau wasn't... Allen could breathe...
"...not right away. I would investigate on my own. I would talk to the kid and find out all I could about him. I'd learn who he was and... geez, Boss. You know who you grew up with. Just talking to someone about the good old days and hearing them laugh or pick at a familiar scab, it all brings back so much."
Allen choked and Gaddes slapped his back.
"Gaddes?"
"Boss, you don't know anything real about him. You don't know what he knows. Hell, I bet Folken doesn't know what he knows! Talk to him! Folken hasn't told him who you are, right? What if something you say makes him remember you? Obviously Zaibach does something to them, makes them forget. Celena forgot you, didn't she? She forgot how much time had passed, and then she started remembering. When she claimed she was Valeska, she had no idea who you were."
Allen's insides trembled.
"Talk to him, Boss. Once you do that, you'll know, and then you won't have to beat yourself up anymore."
The stool was shaking or maybe it was him. He clasped his hands together, not liking how cold they felt. The duel was over. Gaddes had declared the winner, and the winner said, What would Mother have you do?
Mother would have believed.
But Allen wasn't Mother and Gaddes said not to– not yet– and Allen agreed. He had to know more.
"I have to know more."
"That's it," Gaddes encouraged him, squeezing his shoulder. "You're a good man, Boss– a good man that attracts a lot of weird shit. I thought you'd stop at Draconians, but you just couldn't."
Allen tossed Gaddes a trying look and lowered his face into his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. He still felt a bit ill. Perhaps he should have eaten his porridge at breakfast after all, along with Dilandau's fruit.
"You still don't look good, Boss. How about that cold water I was talking about?"
Allen nodded, not uncovering his eyes. "Thanks."
"No problem," Gaddes replied easily, and Allen was sure Gaddes knew that the 'thanks' extended to more than just the water.
What if I find out Dilandau is someone...close to me? How do I act? What should I tell him?
What would he say to me?
And more importantly, what was he going to do about Celena?
Gaddes had helped a bit; it was nice not drowning alone... but gods, he was going under fast and Gaddes wasn't a good swimmer.
"Hey Boss..." A cold glass was pressed against his fingers, and Allen sat up, revealing his face and claiming the drink with both hands. He sipped slowly, puzzled at Gaddes' expression. He was hesitating.
"What is it?" Allen asked gently.
"Ah...I don't know if you care, or want to do this or not... but uh..."
"What?"
"Silver Boss, he's alone. I know it's really hard to find him alone, and..."
"And?" Allen felt something constricting his airways. He was going to talk to Dilandau, but now? It was too soon... much too soon!
But Gaddes was right; it was rare to find Dilandau without one of his men joined at his hip. What if this was his only chance without actually having to ask someone to leave?
His only chance. Allen wanted to snicker. It was not as if the boy was... dying. Shit.
"Something's wrong with him. I don't think he knew who I was, when he pushed me out of the way."
"Out of the way? Where is he?" Allen was already rising from the stool, stretching his arms and legs that had started to cramp from being sedentary for so long.
"In the lavatory nearby. I hope you don't mind that I got your water from there. I wanted to get back to you fast..."
"He's in the bathroom? You want me to bother him in the bathroom?" Allen was aghast. How comfortable would that be?
"Boss, you didn't listen to me. Something's wrong with him. I don't know why one of his Slayers didn't come in here with him. Maybe he ditched them, but I think he may need some help."
"Then why didn't you..."
"Go for help? I am. Help him, Boss; find out what's wrong," Gaddes urged.
"I'm not real help, Gaddes. What if he needs medical attention?"
"Then you'll take him to it, but as I see it, this is your easy way in," Gaddes said gently. Allen was silent and Gaddes looked heavenward. "Look Boss, if you don't go in 2 seconds, I will. I wouldn't have left in the first place, but I thought... well you know what I thought. So, what's it gonna be?"
Allen glared at Gaddes for putting him on the spot. This was his chance, and Dilandau was vulnerable. It may never happen like this again. He had to know, and gods, he wanted to know now. His entire being demanded it all of a sudden. It was like inspiration striking; do it now! But... but...
"Gaddes I hate you!"
He stalked from the ship, not bothering to look back at Gaddes for he knew the man was smirking at him.
Asshole.
"Heya Boss!" Men shouted at him.
Allen ignored them.
"What's he pissed about?"
"Hell, 2 bills says Gaddes caught Boss' weird girl from the Mystic Moon messing around with Dally and Guy."
"She ain't their type."
He was back on the Vione asleep on the shower floor. Cold water drizzled over his face and the tile was hard under his butt. The back of his head ached... maybe he'd hit it when he fell.
Only a dream then?
Astoria had been only a dream.
"Dilandau? Are you awake now? Can you open your eyes?"
Folken had come in and found him.
Bet he's pissed... but his voice sounds funny.
More water... he moaned, trying to turn his head away. The side of his face brushed against a soft shoulder draped in fine fabric that smelled of spicy cologne. Folken didn't wear cologne, and why was Folken sitting in the shower with him?
Dilandau's eyes bolted open, spots and stars dancing before them sooner than he could see his surroundings. He was... not in his shower. He was...
In a small bathroom, a washroom really, in Astoria. He'd come in here because... He gasped, sitting up and pushing the person trying to protest his movements away. On his knees, he made his way to the dark porcelain mecca as his stomach attempted to pay homage to it again.
Stomach acid, then nothing. He had nothing more to give, but that didn't stop him from trying.
Long fingered hands rubbed his back, even after he was done dry heaving. He fell backward on his rump, breathing hard, tears... tears of every meaning... running down the sides of his face. Using both hands, he scrubbed them away, over and over again.
I'm still crying.
Water was running in the sink. Someone was filling a cup. Who was here witnessing this?– Dilandau wondered in horror. He titled his head up to see a waterfall of blond hair flowing to about mid-back on a long, lean frame. The man wore tall boots and light slacks.
He turned.
"Allen Schezar."
"That's right. Are you feeling better?" Dilandau frowned at the man's tentative smile. He sank down on one knee in front of Dilandau, offering him the cup of water. Dilandau's stomach gave a rebellious lurch, telling him that he'd better not swallow any of the foreign liquid. Dilandau took the cup, sipping and swishing the water around in his mouth, then spitting it back in the cup. He set it on the floor by his leg and scooted until he could rest the back of his head against the cool wall.
One by one, he felt he was sucking the tears back in. Dilandau had to stop this. He couldn't keep crying in front of Allen. If he stopped now, maybe Allen could dismiss the tears as reflexive from pain.
Dilandau felt a quick rush of air as Allen must have stood and he heard the man shuffling around. He used that time to pull himself together. Dilandau buried his head between his knees.
You are stronger than this, Dilandau. Stronger! Every mortal thing dies! You are not a god; accept your fate! What would your Slayers say? They know; they dealt with it before you and they are strong. Viole... Viole is the strongest of them all.
If they can do it, you should do it better!
But...
A moist towel was placed against the back of his neck. "Are you going to be sick again?"
Of all the people Dilandau would have imagined taking care of him, he just didn't visualize Allen Schezar. The blond man had to have been the one to open the door, not The Lady, and he'd been there with Dilandau since. In a way, Dilandau was grateful. Allen was not panicking or causing a scene like someone else might have; he wasn't running to get Folken like his Slayers would have. And...
I bet if I asked, he'd go away.
"I don't think so. Too empty."
"I guess it's a good thing you didn't eat all of that porridge this morning." Dilandau frowned as he felt Allen massaging his neck through the towel.
"Maybe yeah, and maybe no. The porridge felt and tasted a heck of a lot better than acid," Dilandau sputtered, proud that his voice wasn't shaking, though it sounded a bit scratchy.
"Jam would too."
What was the man's preoccupation with jam and porridge? The idea of the two unlikely foods touching made him grimace. He swallowed hard, nearly gagging again at the sinus drainage clogging then finally going down his throat with a thick gulp. He felt the beginnings of a headache and the familiar pangs in his gut that warned him his body wasn't through working him over.
Dilandau was strong, stronger than his Slayers, stronger than everyone! If anyone could be calm and fearless, he could. He would! No more being a chicken shit! Nobody liked a chicken shit! Nobody respected a chicken shit! A chicken shit died without honor!
Dilandau had honor; he wouldn't cry anymore! He would not! Viole hadn't cried! But...
"Al... Allen." Damn that stutter!
"Yes?" The towel was moving up toward the nape of his neck, dampening the base of his hair.
"Th... thanks for coming in. I'm ok now, though. You don't have to stay. I'll get up and go back to Van and Viole in a minute. I might need to break up an argument."
Pitiful. I have to lie to hide my disgrace. Where's my strength? Did my Slayers steal it from me? They were handling it better! But...
"Not a good idea, Dilandau. Unless Van and your other friend are in your bedroom, that's not where you're going now."
What?
"If you're feeling better, I'll take you to your room."
The hell?
I'll take you to your room?
Unless Dilandau had a hearing dysfunction– which wasn't improbable for as he continued to swallow Dilandau could feel fluid building in his ears– Allen wasn't leaving and didn't plan on it.
Why was he being so nice? Then again, Allen was really trying to be different after Dilandau had saved his life, twice. Maybe this was a challenge for him to overcome. Seemed everyone was overcoming challenges, but Dilandau. He was the only loser. But...
"Allen..."
I can't keep this up. He can't stay, but he won't leave; something has to give!"Yes?"
"My room then. I'll go; I promise. Thanks." Now he'll leave; he has no more reason to stay.
"I'll walk you."
No! He can't!
"It's all right," Dilandau breathed, hoping he hadn't sounded desperate. He was cracking; his back and shoulders itched and what was left of the juices in his belly were starting to bubble.
"No, it's not. You were unconscious, Dilandau. I found you on the floor. This is the second fainting spell of yours I've been witness too, and I don't trust you on the stairs alone. I'll walk with you until we get to your room or we find one of your friends to pass you off too."
Why wasn't Allen referring to his Slayers as his men anymore?
"You keep calling them my friends..."
"You're too young to be men, and calling them your boys sounds degrading," Allen explained, sounding a bit surprised himself.
Too young to be men, huh? What about 'to die'?– weren't they too young for that too? They were allowed to take that risk every time they went into battle. Allen, Dryden, Astoria, didn't try to stop them. Folken did. Marie did.
They were too young for Folken and Marie as well.
Someone should tell Lady Death it was against the rules. Only, Dilandau heard that she was deaf. Something inside him shuddered and his eyes burned as it shattered behind them.
He couldn't do this anymore. He was strong, stronger than his men, than Viole who hadn't cried when he told him what he feared, but...
They weren't dying. Viole wasn't dying. Only Dilandau truly knew what it felt like; the others could only taste his fear and react. They didn't have to live with it until it was done, and didn't have to fight against something they couldn't win against, knowing it was futile. Every blow Dilandau struck against Her hurt like fire melting flesh. He was a fresh, green branch in a roaring bonfire doused in kerosene.
How could he win?
Dilandau could see, hear, taste, smell, and feel his loss. Others could only see and hear the echoes of his screams. They couldn't know; it was impossible for them to know.
And that's why they seemed so much stronger.
Dilandau was the one taking the brunt of the blow, the one burning, the shield.
"All right, walk with me."
It would be the fastest walk of his life. Alone– he'd mourn alone. It wasn't the same with people around, people who didn't know because they couldn't.
Dilandau raised his head, wiping his face clean with his sleeve, making a note to himself to throw the shirt away when this was done. Could he get to his feet?
It didn't matter if he could have on his own or not, Allen helped him without asking. Outside the washroom was a crowd, but their attention was directed elsewhere. There was a fight going on, but there were just too many people to see the contenders. Allen steered him beyond that, heading for the back stairwell.
Thank the gods for whoever it was that had decided to act like jackasses and start a brawl. It took the eyes away from Dilandau and the mess he was sure he'd made of himself.
The journey to his room was a quick one, and they did not run into any of his Slayers, Folken, Marie, nor Pearce. Folken and Marie were probably slaving away in the depths of that lab. Those two would never give up.
Pearce.
Who knew what Pearce did in his spare time.
"This one's mine," Dilandau whispered, he didn't trust his voice, before Allen could push him past his own door. Allen stopped, and Dilandau turned the doorknob, letting himself in.
"Thanks," he said, turning to close his door while bidding the knight farewell, but Allen had crossed the threshold as well, large hand against the middle of his back.
"Go on and lie down. I'll get you a glass of water to put on your night stand."
"You don't..."
"Lie down," Allen insisted.
Dilandau fought the shakes threatening to engulf him. He needed to get rid of Allen, but he didn't want to offend the man who was finally starting to behave normally toward him. If he was kind to Dilandau, he'd be kind to his Slayers.
His Slayers might need an Allen Schezar on their side, when Dilandau couldn't be.
Dilandau sat on his bed, holding his shaking hands in his lap. Swallow... don't choke, swallow again. It couldn't take that long to fill a glass, then Allen would go.
Allen had disappeared in his bathroom and Dilandau could hear the tap going. It was taking an eternity. The walls were trembling and more cracks appeared. They were growing, his hands arched, fingers attacking places on his body that itched the worst. He could feel skin tearing, the blood was so hot and runny, but it didn't stop him.
Gods, Schezar, hurry up!
The man appeared with the clear glass of water, setting it on Dilandau's night stand. "Maybe you should take those clothes off, if they're bothering you."
Dilandau shook his head, biting his lip against. "It's fine. I'm fine. Just gonna take a nap now. See you around. Thanks."
Allen frowned at him and Dilandau lay down, trying not to hiss as his pants scraped against his lower back.
"You really shouldn't put your boots on the bed," Allen began and Dilandau almost groaned in horror! Not only was the man still here, but Dilandau had put his shoes on the bed!
"Forgot..." Dilandau murmured, losing himself. "No shoes on the bed, House Rule 3."
"House Rule 4," Allen corrected, then produced a noise that made Dilandau focus on him again. He was still here!
"Feel better, Dilandau." He was finally leaving!
Dilandau listened for Allen's retreating steps, but carpet muffled boots and the throbbing in his ears nearly deafened him. He gave Allen 3 seconds... 4 seconds... House Rule 4. Silly me, it was House Rule 4...
Silly, stupid, worthless, loser me...
Why me?
Lying on his aching back, cramping fingers working over burning skin, head pounding, stomach churning, he wept.
Why me?
Allen paused in reaching for the door at the first sound of Dilandau's sobs. It was familiar. He turned, watching the boy on the bed. Dilandau didn't wail or howl like certain people he knew, but he wasn't silent either.
His breathing changed from a slow, steady rhythm to soft, sputtering gasps. The kind someone wouldn't hear from the other side of a door. Dilandau's face had been damp, when Allen had found him sprawled on the stone floor of the washroom, but Allen never considered that the boy may have been crying. Allen really hadn't known what to think or do. He'd tested the door to find it unlocked, after he had called to Dilandau a few times with no response.
Allen would have left. He couldn't stand to listen to people being ill, but he'd come in Gaddes place. When Dilandau hadn't answered him, he figured he may need help. Allen hadn't planned on dragging the boy up to his room, but once inside he knew he couldn't leave Dilandau alone in a washroom. He'd felt the bony ridges of the boy's spine as he'd guided him up the steps and paid careful attention to his color. Allen had really thought Dilandau would faint again, and he was ready to catch him.
Dilandau rolled over on the bed, bringing his knees to his chest, boots rumpling the comforter and Allen made a face. Allen should have removed his boots, when Dilandau didn't. No shoes on the bed...
House Rule 4.
He'd known the House Rules, granted he'd gotten it wrong; he had knowledge of the House Rules.
Allen could have shrugged it off. Shoes on beds were disgusting and anyone could make rules against it, but somehow, Allen couldn't shrug it off.
Dilandau was obviously trying to get rid of you, Allen. Maybe he doesn't like crying in front of people; you don't. Lets go.
Somehow, Allen also couldn't go.
It was wrong to leave someone that sounded like they were in so much pain. No matter how hard they pushed others away, they never really wanted to be alone.
Mother hadn't, though she'd banned Allen from her suite.
It had been so bad in those final weeks, Allen was afraid every morning he'd walk in to find she had passed on. He had taken to sleeping in her sitting room beside the door. Allen listened for her in the night, coming in when she cried out. Mother had nightmares about her children, and she needed someone to hold. In the end, Allen had held her. He never left her side, sitting with her when she was ill and letting her rest against his chest when she wept.
Mother had been so thin and fragile then he felt he knew every bone in her body. Her hair was soft as a baby's and fine like expensive silk. He'd lowered his face into it many a time, reveling in its rosy scent. His mother, so beautiful, so helpless...
So gone.
Something inside him shattered as he pushed the door to Dilandau's room closed and made his way to the bed. Allen hated hearing people cry or be ill; he hated knowing someone was in pain that he couldn't stop.
He'd failed his mother, and gods, he couldn't stand that noise!
Allen sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at Dilandau, who didn't seem to notice him. His face was on his knees, his arms wrapped around the joints tightly. Allen frowned at the skin exposed by the sleeves that had been inadvertently rolled back. Tiny spots of blood soiled the pale skin and his hand... the back of one of his hands had something in it, the skin around it swollen and purple.
The shuddering sobs didn't stop and Allen, maybe hoping to smother the hateful sound, did the only thing he could think of. He grabbed the boy by the shoulders, pulling him to his chest and holding him there tightly.
Mother had usually quieted when he did this. Hitomi did too, though it took a while... and her cries were most annoying. She wailed and moaned like a body giving birth. Mother, even in her deepest of despair, was too dignified for that. The gentle hitch of her breath and the shaking of her shoulders signaled tears.
That's why the sound Dilandau was making was so awful and must be stopped. It was Mother's sound.
"Hush now," he tried to no avail.
Now what? Allen readjusted his hold, so Dilandau could breathe. He weighed nothing, and it was easy for Allen swing himself further onto the bed and situate Dilandau in his lap. What would Dilandau think when he realized the position he was in?
Allen would have chuckled if Dilandau's arms hadn't wormed themselves around his back. The boy was pressing himself against Allen like he was a wall at the lips of an abyss his toes were dangling over. It hurt, but Allen didn't pry him away; he... didn't think he wanted to.
Allen loosened his hold on Dilandau, unlocking his hands and stroking the boy's quivering back. He felt so frail, Allen imagined he could break him if he squeezed hard enough.
What could he be crying about?
Young boys had no need to cry. Dilandau was a successful commander of a superb troop. He had their love and support. He still had every chance in the world to shape his destiny and choose what he wanted to be.
But once again, Allen had to remember Folken had said Dilandau was dying, and Dilandau had to know.
Allen sighed, his head falling forward slightly and silvery hair, fine as silk tickled his face. He closed his eyes, rocking back and forth slowly, not caring if the motions strained his back in the awkward position he was in. He could move closer to the pillows, but then he'd get his boots on the bed. Taking them off would mean releasing Mother to unzip them. She would probably panic at the sudden loss of warmth.
Allen opened his eyes, staring down into silver locks, not golden ones. He was holding Dilandau. He must have fallen asleep for a moment there for him to start imagining he was holding his mother at her weakest.
His hand stopped rubbing Dilandau's back and instead inspected his spine, moving up to the base of his neck and spanning across his shoulder to an elbow. So delicate, if Mother had been a boy... Once again, he shifted Dilandau so that he could reach behind him and find one of Dilandau's hands. Allen found the smooth one without an insertion point, running his hand along the graceful arch of the palm and the shapely slenderness of the fingers.
Elegant like Allen's own, like hers, like Mother's.
Celena's hands, what had they been like?
Rough and stubby, like Father's, even when she was 5. Allen's hands had never looked that way.
Dilandau was moving, his grip slackening as he relaxed more against Allen. Allen stopped his inspection of Dilandau's hand and put his arms back around the boy, letting his hands cross in his lap. Dilandau's breathing was deep and even.
Asleep.
He'd cried himself to sleep in Allen's arms, and Allen hadn't minded a bit.
He stared down at Dilandau, studying the curl of his lashes, the bones of his face, even the point of his nose.
Allen had never noticed before, but Gaddes was right.
He had seen someone that looked more like Mother than Allen did; in fact, he saw that someone every day.
Allen swallowed hard, blinking back a strange sensation in his eyes.
It seemed Allen was either extremely lucky or terribly cursed, but he wasn't going to have to interrogate Dilandau after all.
Mother wouldn't want that.
She would say...
Allen fingered Dilandau's hair.
She would say: Why couldn't you figure it out yourself?
Mother had a sixth sense. She knew weird things. She'd talked crazy talk, when Celena was a baby. That's what Father had called it, crazy talk, but now Allen wished he'd listened.
If he had, he could have figured it out on his own.
The only thing he needed now, was to figure out what to do with what he'd learned.
Allen eased Dilandau out of his lap, onto his bed pillows. He watched as Dilandau turned onto his side, finding a pillow to wrap his arms around, and smiled lightly. No monsters here.
Allen removed Dilandau's boots and knelt on the floor to tuck them under the bed. His knuckles brushed against the leather spine of a book, and curious, he pulled it out while patting the boots into place.
The Adventures of Captain Jack Sparrow.
Well, I'll be.
Allen raised a brow at the silly caricature of the pirate on the front cover and took a seat in the armchair next to Dilandau's bed. He had never finished this book, and he was taking this as a sign of it being time.
The leather gave a large yawn as he opened the book and thumbed to the well–worn page he remembered leaving off at.
He wouldn't go until someone else came.
Mother never really liked being alone, and now Allen was quite sure Dilandau wouldn't like it either.
What was next? Allen knew he wasn't done yet. Dilandau was no monster, and Dilandau, no matter how he came to be, was a Schezar, but... what was he to Allen?
That Allen was still figuring out and this time, he wasn't just going to let the answer stare at him across a breakfast table.
Allen looked over at Dilandau, scowling when he realized he hadn't covered him. Setting down the book, he rose, lifting Dilandau just enough to slide the blanket from beneath him. He tossed the cover over the boy and tucked it in around him.
Dilandau didn't stir and Allen plopped back down on top of the book and yelped at the hard square pressing into his butt. A pain in the ass... Hmm... He wondered if this was another sign. Shaking his head, he found his place again and started to read.
Author's Note: So... here it is once again: What's the verdict? Like it? Hate it? Don't care either way? Anyway, let me know. Please review! Thanks :)