Me: Hey, hey, hey! Sorry I haven't updated! I wasn't sure how to do this and then I just moved on to something else…

GS: (coughs) Persona.

Picup: (sneezes) Devil Summoner.

World: (mutters) Digital Devil Saga.

Me: … Okay, so A LOT pulled me away, but here it goes!

Disclaimer: I do not own Trauma Center as it belongs to Atlus.

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Delphi: Under Wraps

Realization

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The jet black car came to a stop at the curb near Nozomi's apartment and Michael shut the engine off, leaning back in his chair. He wasn't really sure what was going on anymore in Delphi. They had begun spiraling a bit after that surgeon – what's his name? Derek Stiles? – treated the first creation, Kyriaki. It wasn't possible. No normal surgeon should've been able to cure such a violently active creature. Hmph, his agent under cover did say something about him being able to use the Healing Touch, but not in the same manner that Nozomi could. Whatever the Inner Circle was planning, they better tell him soon.

As much as he would've liked to continue contemplating over his job, a shifting lab coat brought his attention to his passenger. Nozomi was still out, her lab coat covering her as she slept, and the thin black and orange fabric rising and falling with each breath she drew. She barely moved at all, but then again, he supposed rocking with the car's movements didn't count as actual motion. It hated to say it, but she probably needed attention for the night after a hallucinogenic confinement. He had never been exposed, but it could drive some of their men mad or suicidal. Adam knew she was vital, but at the same time, she was medical scum; no, she was just a surgeon entangled in something that was way over her head.

Taking the keys out of the ignition, he opened the driver's door and looked up. Clouds rumbled in the distance, blackening out the night sky and the dull scent of rain drifted on weak gusts of wind. It would pick up soon with the storm and inevitably the temperature would drop at least a few degrees, but not extremely to a point of notability.

Michael walked around the car, ignoring a white car speeding by as he stopped and opened the passenger's door. Nozomi didn't shift or stir, continuing on in her sleep. Dammit, he needed the key to the apartment and he didn't want to try finding out where it was hidden. He fought off the heat rising to his cheeks and knelt down, reaching forward with a hand. He dug into the lab coat pockets, but God wasn't exactly letting him off easy. Neither pocket held her apartment key. Dammit, he knew he should've made a spare besides how creepy that seemed. Carefully, he raised his hand, moving to her dress pocket. It was then that he realized how tight it was on her and that he really needed to request the uniform be redesigned as he fished in her pocket. Fortunately, he found it in the first go and was able to unlock her front door.

Thunder rolled overhead again as he returned to the car and knelt down. He had been assigned to watch over and assist Nozomi and he was doing just that. This was nothing more and nothing less. He slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her out of her seat, slipping his other arm under her legs when she was farther out of the car.

It was work getting her inside the apartment and on her bed, but he somehow managed. He stepped out for a second to lock the car and retreated inside the apartment, turning out the lights just as a bolt flashed high above. His steely eyes sharpened as the darkness encroached on his vision. It was something he was use too; the darkness and a small light on. For now, the lights had to be out for Nozomi's sake, just until it was all clear.

Rain was starting to fall now as he grabbed a chair from the front and carried it down the hall to her bedroom. He stared at her prone form, remembering what she had said. It was her job to save the good and bad. How rotten a job really… Medicine was not only sin, but it endangered those diligently working on it. Sure, GUILT would take his life one day, but it was meant to. It was a day all in Delphi faced, but he remembered history extremely well. Medics burned as witches, killed for aiding the enemy, taken hostage since they could heal; such a double-edged job with no fulfillment and besides what they did now, people still died of old age. It was simpler to let life be balanced by the diseases God made.

And yet…

Even without medicine, he understood the body fought back naturally. Cells turned against disease to cleanse it; that was placed by God, was it not? He never really considered… The vaccines made were usually taken from the very system God designed to fight against a certain disease, but didn't that mean there was another way a person was supposed to die? Disease evolved, but the body evolved too. Delphi was going to correct the error of man's longevity, but what about those few meant to live on? Evolution, the cycle of life and death, the struggle for life over death; man fought about all this, but still did what they must. Mankind killed their flesh and blood, brainwashed, tortured, corrupted… Good and Bad; Justice and Villainy.

Lust, greed, pride, envy, gluttony, sloth, and wrath…

Chastity, charity, humility, kindness, temperance, diligence, and patience…

How does one fall into either category? There was no in between. Delphi was doing a charity to humanity and God, but that was the group overall. What about those against…?

Michael blinked at a rather loud crash of thunder and lightning, his eyes refocusing. Nozomi – no, no her name was Naomi - Which category did she fall under? At the moment, she worked for herself, for survival, but at the same time, she did it because she was a doctor. She couldn't save the GUILT patients, but was curing them to the best that Delphi required. She had openly admitted to curing him as well even though… this could've happened.

Humility, kindness, diligence, patience…

There were more people like this who worked not only for themselves, but for the good of another, for their survival; a charity on someone's life and the patience to help them through. He was nearly ticking off all seven virtues instead of the seven sins he expected, but did this mean they were wrong?

For a while, he let his mind drift as he stared out the darkened window, watching the rain tap against the glass and slide down drop by drop. Minutes drew to the first hour and then the second slowly when he finally noticed Naomi shiver. Ugh, he forgot to pull the sheets up. He pulled the bed sheets over Naomi's body before turning to the window and allowing time to pass again.

Three hours…

Four…

The fifth hour creeping and he stifled a yawn, ignoring another flash of lightning outside. The bed creaked and, for a moment, he thought she was finally going to awaken. It was a false alarm, but he noticed something wrong. The bed sheets were slowly sliding off as she tossed and turned, chest rising and falling at an abnormally rapid pace. He raised an eyebrow, shifting closer to the bed as she mumbled something inaudible. Her shaking returned and began clawing at the bed.

"… Ms. Kimishima?" Michael asked, his eyes darting to her face for a reaction. There was none, but he noticed the beads of sweat dotting her forehead as she started panting. Pants turned into gasps, choked attempts for air. Her hands moved, reaching for something around her throat that was invisible to him.

'Hell, the hallucinogen must still be in her system,' he mentally cursed and placed a hand on her arm. He had to stop her from hurting herself and, hopefully, wake her up.

"Ms. Kimishima, wake up," he said coolly, shaking her a bit, but she didn't rouse, her skin becoming pale. Her breath was becoming shorter. He frowned and shook her again, "Ms. Kimishima!"

His eyes shot to her hand as it grabbed his sleeve. For a moment, he thought she was going to awaken then, but no, her eyes didn't open. Her slender fingers held on tightly, the grip intensifying, but it released suddenly and fell away. The shaking stopped and her breathing ceased. The rhythm her chest rose and fell at stopped and her head lulled to the side a bit.

His brows furrowed, "Ms. Kimishima…?"

No reply.

He hissed under his breath, his hold tightening on her arm, "Ms. Kimishima… it's just an illusion… Wake up…!"

Still nothing.

"… Naomi Kimishima, whoever is doing this to you isn't there…" he said urgently, releasing her arm. His hand moved to her face, fingers brushing her cheek slightly as he moved to her closed eyes. God, if they were dilated…

Her lips suddenly parted and she gasped, coughing for air and he moved back, knocking over his chair. He let out a breath his didn't know he was holding, watching as her eyes started fluttering open. She rolled to her side, coughing again, and gazed up at him, "M-Michael? What are – What are you doing here?"

Michael swallowed, but then cleared his throat, turning away, "You passed out from a hallucinogen… I was told to bring you home."

"… I see," she murmured. For a moment, he thought she was going to get up, but she just sighed, closing her eyes and furrowing her brow, "I thought… A dream? Or a nightmare? I was infected with GUILT and then… choking me… I-I can't remember who."

"That was from the chemicals… I'm sure it's nothing now," he said, looking back at her. He snapped his head away, cheeks faintly red. She could warn him when she's undressing… The covers shifted and he chanced a glance back, relieved at the fact she was under the bed sheets again.

"… Why did you stay?"

"Hm..?"

"You didn't have to stay," Naomi said, "I know work is important to you, yet you remained here."

"I'm supposed to be your assistant and caretaker. If something happened to you, I couldn't perform any research," he replied blandly.

"Mhm… so you're under orders. It was nothing though. You don't need to babysit me," she mumbled.

"Almost dying in your sleep isn't 'nothing'. This has happened several times before," Michael said, his voice raised a bit. It lowered though as he continued, "The hallucinogen drives people insane, causing them to have nightmares. If they're exposed again, most are driven to suicide. You can't step out of line again."

"… Awe, you sound genuinely concerned," Naomi teased, not really taking him seriously. He really wanted to snap, but his hands shot up, catching a pillow. He blinked as she sighed, "I know. I'll be more careful, but it was a risk I needed to take. Anyway, you can sleep on the couch or join me. You better not be touchy though."

"The couch is just fine."

"Whatever works for you," she yawned. She turned away from him and fell silent, drifting to sleep again. Michael stared at her for a moment, but then stepped out of the room, closing the door slowly. When Naomi rose the next morning and entered the living room, he was no longer there, but the pillow and blanket he had used were neatly folded on the armrest.

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Me: (lets out a breath) Finally! Well, you can see why I got stuck. Making Michael contemplate all that stuff was a little over my head when I started this. Anyway, review please! I'll get to work on the next chapter!

Picup: Yeah… no…

Me: Wha?

GS: You're playing Nocturne again.

Me: … Oh, dammit!