Yeah, so I was away this weekend, and I had no internet access. Sorry this chapter is late! Anyhow, thanks to ilikedan and WillowC1 for the reviews!
The Imaginary Sock
Part Thirteen: Gute Nacht
"The maiden had a friendly smile
The mother had kind words
But now the world is dreary
With a winter path before me."
Wilhelm Müller
As soon as they walked into the main hallway Cross could smell something burning. It gave off an awful stench, worse than any potion he had even concocted. He saw the finders around him raise their hands up to their faces to block out the smell. Cross could understand why: the air was very heavy and his face was becoming sticky around his lips. It made him not want to breathe.
Someone held out a piece of cloth in front of his face. He turned to see that the hand belonged to a petite blonde woman. She also wore the silver rose cross on the front of her jacket that fit tightly compared to her wide billowy skirts. "Here," she said. Her voice was muffled, though, since she held another cloth up to her own face. "It will make breathing easier."
He took the cloth and gave her a nod. "Thanks," he replied as soon as it covered his nose and mouth.
Khanna either didn't notice the smell or didn't seem to mind it for he walked forward as if everything was normal. A bearded man in a white coat walked up to the exorcist. "Khanna!" shouted the man through his kerchief. "You've gone and done it again! Every single time we ask you to take another exorcist with you, you refuse. We had to shorten the latest wake to accommodate the Finders you lost in Sicily."
Khanna shrugged and walked around the man. "Each one of those men knew what they were doing," he stated. "If it were not for them then there wouldn't be anyone left from that village. I doubt having another exorcist on the scene would have changed much. You'd still be counting the dead from some other place considering how thin our forces are spread right now."
"Khanna!" yelled the man, turning on his heels to face the Indian exorcist's retreating back.
"I'm tired of this greeting every single time," responded Khanna. "How about you pay more attention to the recruit I brought back? He'll make an excellent medical researcher."
The man balled his fists but turned back to face Cross. "Come with me!" he snapped. For some reason Cross felt it would be a bad choice to argue against this command, so he jogged up to the man in the white coat and continued walking at his heels. He felt like a dog, or like a certain servant boy…
Cross focused on the man's back, trying to wipe out the last of that thought from his memory. He was here to avoid incarceration- damn Khanna- and thinking about the Walkers would not help in that aim.
"So," said the man over his shoulder. He seemed to have calmed down now that they were out of the smoky, stinking hall. "You're interested in working for the science department."
"Yes sir," he lied. "I was working as a medic in the town that was attacked. After Mr. Khanna saw my work he suggested that I consider joining the Black Order."
"Did you train at a medical school?" inquired the man.
"No sir," Cross replied truthfully. "I taught myself."
"That's pretty impressive," mused the man, stroking his thick beard. "I'll have to let Raphael decide whether to let you join his department or not."
They stopped in front of a set of heavy metal doors. Even with the lack of a window Cross could tell what was happening inside since everyone was yelling at each other. The man banged a fist against the door.
A very short man opened the door a crack and poked his head out. He had wild grey hair that stuck up at all angles. A pair of round glasses sat on the edge of his thin nose, looking like they would fall off at any moment. He opened his mouth to speak but then began to cough. After hitting his chest a couple times with a clenched fist he finally spoke in a very soft voice. "Yes?"
"There's a recruit out here to see you, Raphael," stated the man in the white coat.
Raphael straightened his glasses and stepped outside to look at Cross. It made him feel somewhat uncomfortable, for it seemed that the old scientist's eyes were examining not only his appearance but everything about him.
Apparently he was satisfied, for Raphael said, "Why don't you come into my office for an interview?" He gingerly placed a hand on Cross' shoulder to guide him into the main laboratory. They left the man in the white coat out in the hall, probably to continue thinking and rubbing his beard or to go off and hunt down a certain dark-haired exorcist.
The main laboratory was a huge open area that was at least four stories tall. Cross had to crane his neck to count the different balconies that marked the floors. Several scientists in pristine lab coats were standing around a table in the middle of the open area looking over blueprints and smoking. It left a bluish haze that rose up between the metal verandas to block the ceiling from view. Everyone looked up at him and began to whisper as Raphael led him to his office. It was a hidden room with a narrow door, but it was surprisingly spacious.
Raphael had to hop up in order to sit comfortably in his raised chair. He then pulled out a large stack of papers from the top right drawer. Cross began to wonder if Khanna would forgive him and let him go if he failed the interview. For some reason, he doubted it. "Name?" asked Raphael.
"Cross," he replied.
"Cross who?"
"It's just Cross."
"You can't just be Cross. Everyone generally has two names."
"Really, it's just Cross. I don't have any other name."
Raphael frowned but moved on to the next question. "How old are you?"
"I believe I am sixteen," responded Cross.
"You believe?" inquired Raphael, looking at him over the rim of his round glasses. "You either are sixteen or you are not sixteen. Plus that is grossly underage to be working as a scientist."
"I've been working my whole life," stated Cross. "I doubt that's going to change any time soon."
"Good heavens! Working your whole life, you say. Whatever were your parents thinking?" questioned the head scientist.
"If I ever meet them, then I'll let you know," said Cross tersely.
"Oh," replied Raphael. "I suppose that does explain things a bit. I'll just skip your place of birth and hometown as well. Let's see… tell me about your work experience."
Cross decided to skip as many specific details as possible. He doubted the old man would take conditions of servitude or slavery much better than the fact that he had no background. "I've worked at odd jobs mostly. Cleaning things, fixing things, running errands… then I joined a circus."
"You came from the circus?" asked Raphael in complete disbelief. "How did you ever end up here?"
"The circus got blown up, so I'm out of a job," responded Cross truthfully (for the most part). He left out the bit about being blackmailed into joining.
"How do you think these… experiences will help you?" inquired Raphael. He seemed to truly be curious as to what his response would be.
"I learned how to make medical salves and other medical, well, potions," said Cross. "I treated some of the Finders in Sicily, and they brought me back here."
"Alright," said Raphael. He muttered under his breath and began leafing through different pieces of paper.
Before he could say anything else, however, there was a knock at the door. A younger brown-haired scientist came into the room. "Dr. de Orta, the main generator has broken down again," he announced.
Raphael de Orta gave a sigh. "This is the third time this week. I thought someone fixed it."
"We've all tried sir, but we're still getting used to the new electrical system," said the brown-haired scientist.
Raphael stood up and walked towards the door. "I'm afraid we'll have to finish your interview at a later time," he stated. "I must see to it that the generator is fixed properly this time. I'd like you to follow along, though, since I cannot leave you unattended in my office."
Cross noticed that the main laboratory was much dimmer now. There were many more scientists gathered there muttering about some project or another that they needed to get back to and how they should just go back to oil lamps. He followed Raphael to the back of the room where several men stood around a large metal box wearing rubber gloves and goggles to go along with their lab coats. Cross was beginning to think that all the people here looked like mad scientists or crazy old scholars, and he was sure the gloves were not helping their reputation.
"Well?" questioned Raphael.
"We can't fix it, sir," said one of the men, taking off his goggles.
"It looks like we might have overloaded the system," stated another.
"You should tell the guys upstairs to stop playing around with silly things like coffee machines or telephones so that we can actually get some work done," sniffed a third scientist.
"You all are supposed to be the brightest minds on the planet," moaned Raphael softly. He began rubbing his temples. "Are you telling me a little electricity is too hard to handle?"
"Well… yes," quipped some faceless scientist amongst the crowd.
Raphael's face began to turn red. Watching this transition was almost more exciting than seeing Mana try to get a reaction out of Sanjiv when they were in Berlin at Christmas time. Just when it appeared that Raphael would quietly blow his top, someone from the back of the crowd began to shout. "Could I give it a try?"
Some of the scientists began to groan. "Little show-off," muttered the brown-haired man from the office.
A blonde boy who appeared to be close to Cross' age pushed his way through the crowd. He had a very cheerful face with soft features, though he did sport rather small dark eyes. His pale face seemed to glow in the lamp light.
"Not now, Edgar," said Raphael. "Aren't you supposed to be with your father?"
"He's in a meeting with the officials upstairs," replied the blonde boy. "Is this the generator I've heard so much about?"
"Yes," sighed the brown-haired scientist. He took Edgar by the arm and tried to lead him back through the crowd. "How about you wait outside until it's fixed?"
"But I can help!" protested Edgar. "My dad has been working with electricity the past couple years, and I've been helping him. Why can't I give it a shot?"
"Because you're a kid!" shouted the same faceless scientist from before. Cross was beginning to find this guy rather annoying.
He didn't know why, but he decided to intercede. "Why don't you give the kid a shot?" asked Cross.
"It's against protocol," responded Raphael.
"The last thing I knew, we were in a war against giant mechanical monsters that can turn you to dust," said Cross. "I would have thought that you all would jump on any kind of assistance offered to you, but I guess I was wrong."
The scientists began to mutter amongst themselves. They stole furtive glances at Cross and Edgar and then whipped their heads back to continue talking amongst themselves. Cross had to admit that they were pretty chatty, especially for guys who would sit inside and work all day. Finally, Raphael stepped forward. "Alright, Edgar, you may try to fix it. You have one hour. Cross, help him."
Edgar pumped a fist into the air when no one was looking and then picked up some rubber gloves to begin his work. Cross began to regret stepping in for the kid's sake. It appeared that he had unfortunately been hired. Since there was nothing else he could do, he walked over and picked up another pair of the abandoned gloves.
"Could you hand me those pliers?" inquired Edgar. Cross reached into a steel toolbox and pulled the pliers out. "I'm Edgar Chang Martin, by the ways. I don't believe I've seen you around here before, Chris."
"It's Cross," replied Cross. "I'm new here. Just started today actually."
"Really? You seem pretty young for an employee," said Edgar. "I tried to get an apprenticeship here, but they turned me down. It's hard to get into the Central crowd. Good luck. I'm being sent out to the Asian Branch myself to study with my Uncle."
Cross wasn't quite sure how to respond. "That's… nice."
"Yeah, hopefully I'll be useful there," said Edgar. "Damn! I nicked a wire. Could you hand me those wire cutters there? I'll just have to replace it."
"No need," responded Cross. He waved his hand over the wire, and it repaired itself.
"You know magic?" questioned Edgar. His eye's appeared as if they might pop out of his skull from his excitement. "That's a pretty useful skill. I tried learning once myself, but I never had the aptitude. Twi is decent at it, though."
"Twi?" asked Cross.
"She's a distant relative of mine," explained Edgar. "We've been engaged since before the time we were born. It is part of the reason I'm being sent out east. They want us to get to know one another."
Cross thought of another pair of betrothed cousins currently living among England's elite. He hoped that this Twi wasn't nearly as awful as Road. "Well, good luck, I suppose."
"Thanks," said Edgar. His face broke out into a bright smile. He then wiped his hands on a towel nearby. "That should just about do it. Try flipping the switch back there."
Cross was about to do as he was told when he noticed a small metal cylinder on the floor. "What's this?" he questioned.
"Oh, that's a fuse," stated Edgar. "I bet it's been loose this entire time. It's a good thing you found it, otherwise this thing probably would never start up properly."
"But I thought you fixed it," remarked Cross.
"Oh, I did some tune up work, but I had yet to find any huge problems. It sure was fun finally working on this, though. Just get a new fuse out of the bag over there. That one looks like it is shot."
He wasn't sure what to think of Edgar Chang Martin anymore. The kid had just been relying on luck to fix the generator. Cross began to wonder if Edgar had also lied about working with his father. However, when he switched the switch the lights did turn back on, so he supposed he'd have to give the kid some credit. Many of the scientists began to cheer upon the return to normalcy.
"Thank you, you two," said Raphael. Edgar politely thanked the head scientist for the fun and left the laboratory. "I just talked with the Finders and the exorcist you came in with, Cross. I must say, I am impressed with the burn salve. I'm going to move you to the medical research department. First, however, you must be inducted into the Black Order."
"Um… thanks," replied Cross. He was having trouble keeping up with the overload of information from the soft-spoken head scientist.
"Take these papers to the main office on the fifth floor. I'd suggest changing into some nicer clothes first."
"Right," stated Cross. He took a large stack of papers from Raphael and made his way to the main office. There under the watchful gaze of the petite blonde woman from earlier, Cross sold his soul to the Black Order, not thinking he might potentially never get it back.
oOo
If Mana had thought the adults at the circus were bad, then he had yet to meet adults in the real working world. It wasn't the scientists who were bad, though. Most of them were good nerds who didn't have a life outside the laboratory. Cross was even beginning to like working with the men in the medical research department. Sure, they smoked a lot for people concerned about their health, but he found it was a social thing.
One time they even gave him a cigarette to try. It was a bad choice, though, for he almost coughed up a lung. Raphael almost exploded once he learned what had happened. He was the kind of man who treated all his subordinates like they were little school children, and he seemed to be annoyingly concerned about Cross due to his lack of family. Cross knew the man meant well, but it was too late to change the past. He would always be a loner.
It wasn't even the Finders or the Exorcists who were causing him problems. The Finders were often too busy to stop by or even notice his existence. Cross had to admire their work ethic. Most of them were fellows who had lost their friends or families to the Earl and his minions, so they had dedicated their lives to fighting against the darkness. Some of the exorcists could be pompous considering they held a very high status in the Black Order hierarchy. They didn't really socialize with non-exorcists, which was perfectly fine with Cross. It meant that he saw very little of Khanna. The Indian exorcist was more often than not away on a mission either collecting Innocence or battling akuma, but when he did return it would be several days before he would depart once again. Cross couldn't imagine what caused him to return for such a long period of time.
No, the problem was the administration. The higher-ups were annoying as hell. They always gave out orders that would contradict themselves and previous orders from other years. Cross wasn't sure they actually knew what they were doing, yet they ruled the place with an iron fist, especially the Levarier family. They were high up amongst the Central officials and seemed to be running the whole show.
The lower offices were like a jungle. If the higher-ups didn't know what they were doing, then the lower offices were certainly worse. Cross felt that the biggest contributing factor was that the main office was one of the only places where women worked in the Order. He supposed that it was dull only discussing things with other men all the time, so he'd accompany other members of the science department to the upper floors where they could stop by the infirmary to talk with the nurses or the secretaries. Pretty soon, though, Cross was trying to find any way possible to avoid the upper floors. It wasn't that the women up there were rude. On the contrary, they were very friendly.
Very friendly.
The other men resented the fact that Cross was so young. All the secretaries and nurses thought that he was so cute. He was pretty sure he'd have permanent red pinch marks on his cheeks by the end of the month. Plus, they would hold him annoyingly close. Maybe he'd come to appreciate this in time, but right now he didn't really want to even be in the Black Order.
It was like having to deal with twenty sober Jacquelines all the time. They'd cling to him, tell him stories about their day, and make him coffee without even asking. He probably had drunken enough coffee to stay awake for the rest of his life by now, which meant they'd be able to continue telling him about the latest gossip in Headquarters. The worst part of it all was that he was compelled to being polite to all of them.
One day, he became the victim of a rather pretty girl named Gwendolyn. She was the assistant to the petite blonde that worked in communications. Gwendolyn was a nineteen year old brunette from northern England whose father worked as a Finder. She was a nice girl that many of the younger scientists always tried to chat up. On that day Cross was walking down the hall towards the science department minding his own business when he ran into Gwendolyn.
"Hello, Cross," she said sweetly.
He gave her a nod. "Good afternoon," he replied politely. "What brings you up here? Normally there's nobody in this corridor when I pass by."
"I could ask the same of yourself," she stated. Her eyelids batted incessantly. He was about to suggest that she go to the powder room and clean her eye out when she spoke again. "People tend to avoid these parts because the administrative meeting rooms are just around the corner. They don't really like people being in this part."
"But we are," he responded. "I suppose they must be pretty secret meetings if they try to keep people out of here. Then again, the security is pretty awful if that is the case."
"That's true. They only keep a couple guards outside the door if they're in session," she explained.
Cross stole a glance around the nearest corner. Sure enough, there were a couple guards in black uniforms standing outside a door on the far end of the hall. He pulled his head back to avoid being caught. "I'm afraid they are in session. We should go."
They began walking back towards the nearest stairwell when they heard a door open. Several voices began to bounce off the walls as the meeting adjourned. In a panic, Cross pulled Gwendolyn into a nearby closet and shut the door. They waited in silence for several minutes as the officials and the very unobservant guards passed by. He let out a sigh as soon as they exited into the stairwell.
"That was clo-" he began to say. He was cut off, though, because Gwendolyn kissed him very passionately on the mouth. Cross felt his face turn red.
"Thank you for saving me!" exclaimed Gwendolyn after breaking off the kiss. She had her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. "I would have been in so much trouble if they had seen me up here!"
"N-no problem?" he stammered. Cross honestly just wanted to fling the door open and run down to the science department and hide in one of the laboratories. They seemed very safe at the moment. Gwendolyn, however, was not letting him go that easily.
"Your expression right now is so cute!" she giggled. She swatted him playfully on the arm. "You seemed so shocked. Wait! Don't tell me you've never kissed anyone before?"
"Um..."
"That's adorable!" she squealed. "I'm quite surprised. My little brother is only twelve and he's already kissed two girls. I'm worried how he'll turn out when he gets older. Father just laughs, though, and says that boys will be boys."
"Okay?" He was wondering if he should just ask her to let him go, but then he realized she'd probably cry. Jacqueline had always cried if he tried to leave her alone while drunk.
"You're not really much of a conversationalist, but I bet I could teach you to be really charming," she said. Gwendolyn nuzzled her head against his chest. "How about it?"
She was a nice girl, but he hardly knew her. From everything he'd ever heard people say, a first kiss was supposed to be something exciting, monument in one's lifetime. He didn't really like Gwendolyn in the way that she seemed to like him. The kiss had caused his insides to flip, but not in the magical sparks-flying kind of way. Cross desperately looked into her blue eyes hoping that he'd find some sort of solution to this current predicament. Unfortunately all he saw was his blushing face reflected in those bright blue eyes. Gwendolyn seemed to take his silence as some sort of agreement, for she began to kiss him again.
He didn't get back to the science department until ten minutes later. It was difficult, but he snuck past all the older scientists to the men's room where he washed off Gwendolyn's lipstick from his face. Despite it being gone, he still felt like it was there as he labored Erlenmeyer flasks filled with multi-coloured chemical concoctions. He decided this was definitely not the proudest moment in his life.
Luckily he did not run into Gwendolyn again that day. In fact, he didn't see her for the next couple days. It was only a week later that he learned from one of the other secretaries that Gwendolyn had been moved to Australian Headquarters. He felt himself sigh in relief.
Cross thankfully never saw Gwendolyn again. However, he'd never forget those big blue eyes. He was determined that Mana would never ever find out about this.
oOo
As nice and friendly as the Black Order seemed to be, they did have their own darkness. It was a darkness that Cross felt was almost as bad as some of the dark things he had seen Neah do during his time at Walker Manor. Every time he saw the groups of small children led to the experimental labs at the other end of the science department, he'd think of Rory clutching his acid-burned arm in pain, tears welling up in his silver eyes.
At first, Cross was curious as to why they needed so many children in the Black Order. He knew that the other scientists weren't fond of having children in the laboratory. Most of them had voted to blockade Edgar out of the science department until he left for China. Some of them would even send him dirty looks as he worked. Cross felt this was grossly unfair seeing as he was practically an adult now. When he found out, though, what they were doing with all those kids...
It was the petite blonde from communications that told him. She was the only woman from the Order that he actually enjoyed talking to since she didn't treat him like a child or want to make out with him in a broom cupboard. Her name was Amaranta. Cross vaguely remembered Khanna mention her name back in Sicily. Amaranta hailed from the Alps in northern Switzerland. He would have thought that she was in her mid-twenties, but apparently she was 32 years old. She'd been working for the Order since her parents had died in an akuma attack. That had been nearly fourteen years ago.
Amaranta knew just about everything about Headquarters and all its branches. That was why he asked her about the children during lunch one day.
Her face became grim and she looked at her hands lying limply in her lap. "You saw them, then," she said.
"Yes," he replied. It was impossible not to see them. "They've had me making burn salve constantly for the past two weeks, and I always see them taking it down there. What are they doing?"
"It's a difficult thing," she stated, shifting in her seat. "The Black Order is desperate to find more exorcists. Right now we are so outnumbered that they're willing to try anything... even experimenting on children to try and make them accomodators."
"They're trying to force them to become accomodators for Innocence?" he repeated. "I thought that was impossible."
"It probably is," she agreed. Her warm brown eyes continued to stare down into her lap.
"Then why try," muttered Cross under his breath. He glared at the back of some official's head. "Those bastards..."
oOo
A few days later he was asked to come up to the medical wing to assist the doctors. They were short on staff at the moment considering how badly the experiments were going. Every bed was full of little children covered in bandages, moaning in pain. He tried not to look them in the eyes. Cross didn't want to see the pain in their eyes.
He was assigned to take care of a little African boy. The boy couldn't have been more than two years old, but still he didn't cry out as Cross spread the salve on his wounds. "What's your name?" asked Cross. He was trying to get his mind off the burn marks.
The boy didn't respond. His big brown eyes stared blankly at Cross' face.
Cross decided to try again. "Well, how old are you, kid?" he inquired.
Again the kid said nothing. Either the boy was a mute, in too much pain to speak, or was being plain annoying. This was going to be annoying. Cross decided to check for more burns so that he could hopefully move on to the next patient very quickly.
"Alright, take off your shirt, kid," he said. "I need to check your back."
Thankfully the kid wasn't acting deaf as well and did as he was told. Just like on his arms there were burns all over his chest and back. These burns, however, were worse. They gave his rich chocolate color skin an even darker tint with hints of red and purple. The kid also had some lacerations on his sides. If Cross had been a weaker man, he might have wanted to vomit. Being who he was, though, all he did was take a deep breath and exhale as quietly as possible, trying to keep his emotions under control.
He looked the kid up and down. From the looks of it, Cross didn't believe he could make it through another round of experiments. The kid's ribs were already clearly visible through his skin and his limbs were like toothpicks. His mouth hung open like a fish, letting Cross hear his shallow breathing.
Cross decided to be a Good Samaritan for once and call over a doctor. "Doctor, could you take a kid a look at this kid?" he questioned.
The young doctor that came over checked the kid's pulse and then pulled out his stethoscope. After five minutes of examination he turned to Cross. "I don't see anything wrong with him."
"You don't see anything wrong?" inquired Cross incredulously.
"There's nothing wrong with him that isn't wrong with the others," clarified the doctor, turning his back on Cross. "Don't get too attached."
Cross didn't know what was wrong with the guy. He had seen the other kids and none of them had been quite as unhealthy looking as this one. Sure, if he had his druthers, then Cross would send them all home, but he didn't have any say in these experiments. He supposed the young doctor didn't have much of a say either. If he could only convince someone that could convince everyone else, then this kid might have time to recover.
The door to the infirmary opened and in walked the scientists running the experiments. Most of the looked pale and sick, not much better than the children who were being experimented upon, but there was one man who seemed perfectly normal. Cross recognized this man to be the head of the experimental department, Henry DeMaure. He was in the back of the group of scientists leading a group of nonscientists through the infirmary. It would be a risk, but it was now or never.
"Dr. DeMaure?" asked Cross. The man walked over to him.
"Yes?" inquired the plump old man.
"I was wondering if I could have your opinion on this boy's progress in the experiment," he stated in the most formal way possible.
Dr. DeMaure fixed a pair of bifocals onto his face. He picked up a chart at the foot of the bed. "It's true that this child hasn't seen as much progress as the others, but it hasn't been as bad as others. I'd say he's good to go through to the next round."
It appeared that the Black Order had pretty low standards for what was 'good'. Cross was about to snap at the guy and get himself fired when someone interrupted. "Good?" scoffed a familiar deep voice. "You think this tyke is good? Let me see him stand if he's ready to go on."
Indivar Khanna stood in the doorway of the Head Nurse's office, his left arm in a sling. He was scowling at the back of Dr. DeMaure's head and used no effort to hide it when the man finally turned around.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Khana," seethed Dr. DeMaure. "If you don't mind, I must finish this tour for our patrons, so if you'd just mind your own business-"
"I think this is my business," retorted Khanna. "There's a remote chance that this kid could be assigned to my team someday, and I'm not taking little weakling shrimps. You bookworms have no idea what it takes to be an exorcist, so perhaps I should elaborate."
Khanna threw his sword on the ground in front of the kid. The boy cringed in his bed. Cross was surprised Khanna hadn't thrown his sword at the kid at this point.
"An exorcist is many things. In the beginning we were tasked with banishing demons. Today, however, we are charged with the task of fighting the forces of the Millennium Earl: akuma," said Khanna. He began to pace in front of the Dr. DeMaure and the patrons, his black hair swinging slightly with each step. "Akuma take on the identities of the people who summon them, blending in with the rest of the human race while secretly killing the people around them. They can launch bullets filled with the akuma virus that causes extreme pain until you are reduced to dust. You must be quick, relentless, and strong- not just in body but in the mind and spirit as well. Finally, exorcists are the warriors of God. We all know gentlemen, that He works in mysterious ways. Only God decides who His warriors will be, for an exorcist must be willing to give up his life to do His work. Now, do you honestly think that this kid, who won't even talk, can become an exorcist?"
The kid looked about ready to faint. It seemed that he was able to follow every word that Khanna had said. Cross could feel the mattress shaking as the kid shivered, tears welling up in his dull brown eyes.
"Pick up that sword," demanded Khanna. He stopped pacing and stared directly into the kid's fearful eyes. Cross hoped the kid wouldn't wet the bed. He didn't want to clean that up.
Beads of sweat dripped down Dr. DeMaure's round face as he watched his test subject. The patrons leaned in, very interested to see how this exchange would end.
Finally, the kid fainted. Cross had been waiting for it to happen. It seemed that Khanna's dark side had won this contest. The patrons began to mutter amongst themselves.
Dr. DeMaure turned red in the face. "I'll send the deferral to Dr. de Orta," he snapped. "I don't want to see this kid in my lab or anywhere around Headquarters after this. There's no point of him being here if he's no longer part of the experiment. You there, take him to Rome tomorrow." Dr. DeMaure pointed a shaky finger at Cross. With that said, he stormed out of the infirmary with the patrons nodding their approval.
The only problems now were that he had a kid on his hands for the next twenty-four hours and that he was in debt to Khanna. He didn't know which one was worse. "Thanks," he stated gruffly to Khanna.
"I hate DeMaure," replied Khanna. "At least he finally got a bit of what's coming to him. Any man who can talk about everything like it's just another experiment… I'm surprised he's even with the Black Order. I'd suggest steering clear of him for now on."
"Right," responded Cross. "What am I supposed to do with this kid in Rome?"
"I think he just wants you to leave him there," said Khanna. "They'll take away his memory of the Order and then just expect you to leave him on the street."
"They just want me to abandon him in the middle of the city?" inquired Cross.
"Yeah," replied Khanna. "Nothing fancy. Just keep it simple. If you're lucky the kid might even be asleep."
Cross was about to remind Khanna about how evil he really was when someone hit the exorcist over the head with a broom. He whirled around and used his uninjured arm to draw his sword. "Don't you dare chop up my cane, Indivar!" hissed a middle-aged woman. Her mousy brown hair was tied up in a loose bun. She was somewhat pale, which made the lines on her face stand out, many of them being frown lines. Cross had seen her in the back of the group of patrons. "I'll make you replace it, and believe me I won't make it easy."
"You stupid old bat!" snapped Khana, rubbing the bump forming on the back of his head. "What the hell did you do that for?"
"You deserve much more than that, telling him to just abandon the child out there," sneered the middle-aged woman. "Don't try to step in on the child's behalf if you're not going to stick with your decision the whole way. You're going to get what's coming to you just like DeMaure if you don't stop using things for your own gain. Perhaps I'll just cut away some of my funding for you."
Khanna muttered incoherently under his breath. The old woman raised her cane again, but this time he ducked his head. She seemed satisfied and then turned to Cross. He readied himself to fend off any cane-related attacks.
"I suppose that Indivar is responsible for bringing you here, young man," said the woman. Cross nodded silently, not wishing ruin this stroke of luck. It didn't seem like he'd be sporting a bump to match a certain exorcist. "Well, I'm sorry about that. I won't pry into whatever situation brought you here. You may call me 'Mother'- at least that's what most people call me. I am Indivar's patron."
"I-I'm Cross," he stammered, offering a hand out to her. "Scientist."
She shook it. "Well, it's nice to meet you," Mother responded. "Now, what are you going to do about this child?"
Cross thought about it for a moment. "I suppose if the kid is here, then either his parents are gone, or they wanted him to be gone," he reasoned. "I could see if any of the orphanages in Rome will take him. They might ask questions about where he came from, though."
"What, are you going to adopt him?" asked Khanna sarcastically.
"I'm sixteen," stated Cross. "There's no way that I'm adopting a kid."
"That's rather cold. I actually thought for a moment there that you would actually be a gentleman, Cross. And Indivar, stop making irrational suggestions," reprimanded Mother. Khanna scowled at her back as she turned away. "Well, I don't see anyone in the Order being generous, especially not that one behind me, so I suppose I'll teach you boys a lesson in generosity."
"You're going to adopt him?" questioned Cross.
"That poor kid," mumbled Khanna. He rubbed the bump on his head again.
"Yes," she replied. She looked down at his chart. "Barba will be coming home with me. Of course, I hope he likes the cold because I'll be returning to Liverpool. If you ever are travelling that way or if you get transferred feel free to stop by whenever you want."
Cross was pleasantly surprised how well things had gone for him in this circumstance. He'd saved a life and given Mother a family to call her own. She had even opened her doors for him to visit. Perhaps he really would stay in touch with someone besides Mana for once in his life.
And here enters Mother and Barba. That part was the first part I planned, but it was the hardest to write. So I just kept going with the other stuff. XD Anyhow, I thought Cross' first kiss would be a funny thing to add. The Poka-Dotted Sock had asked how Cross was going to become the booze drinking womanizer that he is today. Well, there's the first step on the road. Please review!