Part 12 – Out of Control

Dark opened his eyes drowsily as rays of bright sunlight slipped through the window blinds and tickled his face. Morning already? His brain lazily tested the rest of his nerve endings for a reaction, but his whole body felt blissfully numb, cuddling with gravity. "Not yet," he mumbled, rolling forward comfortably and pressing his face into the nice, warm…carpet?

"Hah?" The angel opened his eyes for real and studied the coarse blue-gray rug he was splayed out on. The television was airing commercials on the other side of the room. 'Guess I didn't make it to the remote,' he deduced, smirking as he recalled the events of last night. As an afterthought, he pushed up onto one elbow and gave his wings a stretch. He wound up panting face-down on the carpet. 'Yep, still hurt.'

With a grunt, the dark angel pushed up onto his knees and looked around the room. With the exception of his wings, the rest of his body felt surprisingly good. Beside the bed was a pile of used IV cases and a receptacle for used needles and bandages. The latter was full enough that a few inches of bloody linen showed stuck through the mouth of the container. "Ugh," Dark murmured, glancing from there to his bloodstained sheets. "Quite a mess." He remembered very little of the last 24 hours, but the worst parts had stuck with him, and what his eyes were seeing confirmed that they were no dream.

His stomach interrupted him with a growl, shamelessly decreeing that it was eating time. "Well then," Dark grunted as he pushed up to his feet and stretched his arms overhead. His legs accepted his weight a bit awkwardly, but the angel was able to walk across to the door of the room without fainting or falling over. "Wonder what that Hiwatari kid has in his fridge." He cringed, "Better not be Slim Fast." He opened the door to the joint kitchen and living room area and stepped casually in, ready to rummage through Satoshi's cupboards.

He took a few steps and stopped dead, his eyes catching on the sofa. The Hiwatari kid lay there, Risa Harada's slender form curled against his. Their arms were entwined, and they were both sound asleep. The left side of Risa's shirt collar had slipped down over her shoulder, revealing a smooth patch of almond skin.

'Not a problem,' Dark told himself, fighting the stiffness that had taken hold of his limbs. Why was it suddenly so hard to breathe, like all the air in the room had turned to oil? He turned his attention firmly toward the kitchen and away from the girl's sleeping face. The kitchen consisted of three walls of dark wooden cupboards with a table and chairs set up like an island in the middle. Dark went for the fridge, suddenly craving something warm.

Five minutes later, Satoshi's eyes flickered open at the sound of metallic clicking. Dark was standing in the kitchen in a dark blue apron, stirring something in a bowl. The blue-haired boy blinked firmly, wondering if he was imagining this. The angel glanced back at him, as if sensing that he'd woken. "Oh, Satoshi! How do you like your eggs?" the angel asked, casting him a disarming smile.

"Over hard…" he murmured. Nothing seemed to surprise the kid, not even a dark angel in an apron cooking eggs in his kitchen.

"Oops, they're already scrambled," Dark said without much regret. There was a faint grin on his face.

"Should you really be walking around like that?"

"I'm fit as a fiddle. Had a good night's sleep. Looks like you did, too." Dark's grin grew a bit evil, amused by the fierce blush that spread across Satoshi's face. He clicked on the stove, heating up a frying pan he'd discovered under the sink.

"Don't just invade people's kitchens," Satoshi grumbled coldly, fixing Risa's clothes so that they weren't falling off. Risa made a snorting sound and nuzzled further into Satoshi's armpit, dead to the world.

"Good sleeper, isn't she," Dark chuckled, pouring the bowl of eggs into the pan before grinding salt and pepper onto it.

Satoshi sighed, watching the angel scrupulously as he cooked. Dark's violet hair wasn't sticking up wildly as usual, but hung like silk against his head, streaming behind his ears and cascading around his shoulders. Satoshi knew it was because it was heavy with sweat and oils from Dark's skin after two days without washing, but it still looked like it had been brushed down on purpose. Leave it to Dark to look good even when he was sick. Had the angel really recovered that much in one night?

"I need you to tell me about Daisuke. You said you know where he is," Dark cut into his thoughts.

Satoshi frowned, and the room was silent except for the expectant fizzling of Dark's cooking. How could he explain to Dark what happened? That Daisuke was kidnapped because of his history with Dark? Would the angel interpret Daisuke's kidnapping as his fault? Satoshi himself had thought of it that way more than once. Of course, whether he knew it or not, Gorudo wasn't just after Dark. He was after the Black Wings itself, which meant not only Dark, but his counterpart as well.

"I need you to tell me something first," Satoshi finally said.

Dark stopped what he was doing for a moment, looking back at Satoshi expectantly.

"Where is Krad?"

Dark's gaze hardened at the boy. He did not like the urgency he saw in the Hiwatari's eyes, even if it hadn't made it into his voice. "Why."

"If he's here, it's best we don't underestimate him," Satoshi clarified stiffly. "Is he still sealed? Or is he…"

"Like me?" Dark supplied harshly, tossing his head back to indicate his bloodied wings.

The tone in Dark's voice raised a pang of guilt in Satoshi's gut. What was the angel so upset about? Still, he had to know. He wasn't sure why, but he did. It had been bothering him since he first recognized Dark two nights ago. "Yes. Is he…injured somewhere, in this plane?"

Dark couldn't believe what he was hearing. How could Satoshi be concerned for Krad after all the angel had done to his wing host? Satoshi spoke as if he didn't even recognize his own feelings, but Dark knew exactly what he was seeing. It was the same longing that burned the angel's soul when he thought about Daisuke. The Hiwatari missed Krad.

"Krad remains within the seal. I escaped alone, and nearly paid for it with my life. Krad is not strong enough to follow me," Dark said flatly.

"He's ill, then. Inside the seal," Satoshi pushed carefully, confused by the anger in Dark's voice.

"He's fine! The maniacal bastard is just dandy," Dark hissed, too horrified by Satoshi's worry to control his voice beyond a whisper. He needed to get the kid off this subject. "The eggs are done."

Satoshi gave Dark a puzzled frown, giving up on getting any more information out of him. "Risa," he said, looking down at the girl in his arms. He gave her a little shake. "Risa? Risa, you can't sleep all day…" He glanced at Dark, looking a little frustrated with the girl. "Risa!"

"Risa."

The girl's eyes opened immediately at the soft melody of Dark's voice. Dark didn't acknowledge the baffled gaze Satoshi shot at him. "Eggs," he announced casually, holding up the frying pan so she could see.

It took her a minute to register the concept of food and the land of the living, but eventually her eyes widened. "Oh! Yay, not hot pockets!" She clambered drowsily out of the couch and wandered over to stare at the food.

"Hmm," Dark smirked, holding the pan at arm's length away from her, his body blocking her from getting any closer to his hard-cooked food. "I seem to be unusually hungry this morning. I recall expending an especially large effort reaching a certain electrical device last night."

"Eh?! You actually went after it! Are you crazy?" she gasped in guilty horror.

"Good thing I did, too," Dark smirked, amused by her reaction. "If I hadn't passed out, I'd have been stuck watching that god-awful show all evening."

Risa turned paler, if that was possible. "You slept on the floor?"

Dark gave her a satisfied grin. "So, if you want some of these, you'll have to make it up to me," he teased.

The girl nodded sheepishly. "Ok, I owe you one," she said, casting a longing stare at the food. She had been so anxious the day before that she really hadn't eaten at all.

"Okay then," Dark approved, splitting the eggs out onto three plates that he'd set on the table.

Satoshi got up from his place on the couch, fishing his glasses up off the coffee table, and walked toward them. He was confused by Risa and Dark's exchange, but at the same time, he could sort of imagine what had happened. Watching how Risa relaxed and responded so easily to Dark's smooth manner somehow made the Hiwatari a bit jealous. Funny, yesterday he'd been worried because she was afraid of him. He rubbed his sleep-tousled blue hair and sat down at the table, deciding to try and relax also. Picking up a fork, he took a bite of Dark's food and had to admit it was decent. Not a masterpiece, but sufficient.

Risa clapped her hands together over her food as a quick prayer before digging into it. "Mm, these are good," she praised between mouthfuls, paying little attention to the two men as she enjoyed her food.

Dark touched his fork to the fluffy yellow tissue, but looked at Satoshi. "Now, tell me what happened to Daisuke." He put a forkful of food in his mouth and watched the Hiwatari expectantly.

Satoshi pushed his glasses up his nose, something that Risa recognized as a defensive gesture. "The person who had him kidnapped is named Christopher Gorudo. He's an extremely wealthy American-born Japanese. His financial support was instrumental in obtaining the resources I needed to attempt to capture Dark and maintain control of the press. In fact, he not only controls the press, but the police, minor political representatives, and a myriad of other industries that are at his disposal when he calls upon them. I chose Hattori as Dark's physician because he's one of the few in this city I can depend on to keep Dark secret from Gorudo. He's too stubborn to be puppetized."

"So he's rich, and he's got the town under his thumb. Why Daisuke?" Dark said.

Satoshi hesitated. Should he tell Dark the truth? How could he possibly avoid it? Besides his sore conscience, another emotion acted on his mind that he was less proud of. He wasn't fond of Dark. He had no reason to be. Dark was his former enemy, and Risa's former love interest. Aside from his ability to help Daisuke, Satoshi really had little interest in the angel's well-being. He and Daisuke had already had their lives turned upside down by the deeds of their ancestors and the Black Wings' curse. The young Hiwatari couldn't help resenting Dark's role in all of it.

His expression grew very grim and serious, eyes reflecting empty blue against the force of Dark's passionate lavender. "Four hundred years ago, when the Hikari artists undertook the creation of the Black Wings, it was not just for their own artistic amusement. There was someone behind them, with plenty of cash and an invested interest in the final product."

"A commission?" Risa realized in surprise.

"Yes, you can call it that. For an enormous sum of money, the Hikari family set out to create the ultimate living work of art. However, as we know, a thief from the Niwa line disrupted the process of animation, and two beings resulted. They each possessed free thought and beauty, but," he glanced at Dark, "were ultimately defective in light of the original goal. With their powers split in two, they were unable to hold their own forms without another life force to support them. The angels chose the nearest available hosts, a Hikari and the Niwa, and thus the curse of both families began." Satoshi took a deep breath, not at all accustomed to talking this much in the spotlight, but when he caught the impatient look in Dark's eyes, he frowned and went on.

"Well, to say the least, the Gorudo family was displeased that their desired product was not delivered to them. The Hikaris offered a second attempt, but the Gorudos would not invest in their skills a second time. However, they still intended to salvage what did result from their attempt, and provided funding to the Hikari line to assist in Dark's capture. Dozens of Hikaris were killed in the course of their battle with Dark. Some were drained dry by Krad's liberal use of power, and others were destroyed by the Gorudo line for failing to capture Dark. A few, like my father, were driven insane by the immensity of the curse's responsibility. Our family saw to it that Gorudo's line remained ignorant of the fact that not just one, but two angels existed, and over time only the Hikari line retained the true facts surrounding the project.

"The bottom line is this," Satoshi looked pointedly at Dark, "Knowing what I did about your permanent sealing inside the Black Wings, I've become the first in my family's history to refuse further effort toward your capture. Without my cooperation, they've taken a different approach. They somehow developed a way to identify Daisuke as your wing host. And his capture is inevitably part of an effort to summon and obtain their property." Seeing an odd emotion creeping into the angel's confused eyes, Satoshi gently clarified, "They want you, Dark."

"Satoshi, how can you say something like that," Risa said protectively, but even she sounded uncertain. The story was as new to her as it was to Dark.

The black-winged angel stared at Satoshi, emotions drifting across his eyes too quickly to be made out. He'd come to this realm to protect Daisuke, and now he was learning that he was the entire reason the redhead was in danger in the first place. Maybe it was because of his injuries, but suddenly he didn't know how to address the emotions coursing through him. 'Stay cool. Think cool, there should be a solution for this,' he told himself, all too aware that Risa and the Hiwatari kid were staring at him. Gratefully, he felt his logical side click into gear. His mind quickly sorted through the strategies available to him, and he selected the one with the greatest chance of success.

"All right. If anything, this simplifies things," Dark said suddenly, his bold voice earning surprised and curious looks from his two listeners. "They're looking for me. So the first step is to give them me, and arrange for Daisuke's release. We'll worry about the rest after he's safe."

It was Risa's turn to look alarmed. "What? You can't! If that happens, who will be able to save you?" she said almost frantically. "Or are you thinking it's okay to trade your life for Daisuke's?"

"I think it's a good idea," Satoshi cut in on her protest. "Their goal is Dark, and they will never leave Daisuke or his family alone until they've acquired him. A mere rescue will not be enough." He felt guilt pound his chest as he looked from his girlfriend's astonished expression to Dark's unreadable one. Dark had thought of the same plan he had. They had a few things in common, after all.

Risa glared at him. "It's not right to sacrifice one life for another."

"Strictly speaking, Dark is not alive. He's a work of art, and he's bought and paid for."

His girlfriend's eyes widened in shock. "And I suppose if Krad was here, you'd say the same to him!"

Her challenge caught Satoshi entirely off guard. Where did she get the idea that he had even the slightest interest in that sadistic angel? "If he were the one they were after, I'd be more than thrilled to trade his worthless life for my best friend's," he almost shouted.

"So Krad's alive and Dark isn't?" Risa demanded.

"You're missing the point!"

"Oh, really? I was under the impression that the point was too enormous to miss, but you're being such a dummy that I'm having doubts!"

"Dummy?" Satoshi echoed skeptically.

Risa cast her boyfriend a get-serious look, wondering how she could possibly damage control this situation. "Dark, don't mind what he says, Satoshi's not great with these kind of things, but he means well," Risa said, looking over at Dark…

…Only to realize that both the phantom thief and his food were no longer at the table with them.

Their eyes flashed simultaneously to the bedroom door, which Dark was on his way through. "I'm hungry, let's finish this later," he threw back at them with a subdued wink, closing the door behind him.

-oO0Oo-

Daisuke woke up sitting upright in a customized leather chair that looked more like a torture device than furniture. His wrists and ankles were strapped down with smooth, but reinforced vinyl. His leg hurt, and so did his side, but not as much as they should have. They must have given him more pain killers while he was out. He noticed as he looked down that he was shirtless, with a smock covering his lower body. Small electrode sensors were pinned along his chest in two lines, and more were taped to his neck and forehead. Unlike what he'd seen in books, these sensors had no wires trailing from them. Daisuke knew enough about technology to acknowledge that this was extremely expensive equipment, and that it related to a neural test of some sort.

"Good morning, Daisuke," came a familiar female voice from behind his chair. He frowned and waited for the woman he now knew was called Shira to come around his chair and stand within view.

"You gave me more pain killers. I told you not to," Daisuke said, searching her fiery eyes for answers.

"Not pain killers," Shira chuckled, moving toward some machines the boy hadn't noticed before. There were several monitors there, and a printer that was slowly spooling out readings. "The drugs we gave you placed you in level three sleep. Do you know anything about sleep, Daisuke?"

The redhead closed his eyes, recalling information. He did, as a matter of fact, know a bit about sleep. "Level three, or deep sleep, where your body is closest to death. All primary mental functions shut down to allow the body to heal. You no longer react to outside stimuli, and life signs drop to their lowest possible rates. Are you trying to make me heal faster?"

"Sorry to say, that's only a side effect. My goal was to ensure that you couldn't dream."

Daisuke stared at her, trying to figure out what she was thinking about. "Why?"

"To assure the purity of my readings," she smirked, scanning a page of the readout. "These sensors track cerebral activity, conscious and unconscious. I can follow your higher brain function, emotions, and sensations with this machine. She walked over to him, holding the sheet of paper in front of his face. "As you see, the lines on the lower half of the page are thick and flatlined. These are your five senses, if you will, and your conscious thoughts. And up here, at the very top, you see a very thin line periodically dancing all over the place. Do you know what that pattern represents?

Daisuke stared at the pattern, which at its most intense fluctuations still only took up a mere eighth of an inch of vertical space on the entire readout. At most sections, it was so small that the line could easily be mistaken for flat like the rest of them. It was hard to make out the pattern at all without a magnifying glass. He didn't know. "What?" he asked a little impatiently.

"That's a dream, Daisuke. A very, very weak one. Now, explain to me how we've had you in deep sleep for fourteen hours, and yet you've been dreaming intermittently the whole time?

"I think you didn't put me out far enough," Daisuke said, growing annoyed.

"Believe me, kid, had we given you any more, your heart would've stopped dead. I think, my dear, that these brainwaves are not yours. They belong to the Black Wings. Now the question is, when do you intend to face reality and hand it over to us?"

"I can't! I told you, it's not part of me any more! I'll never transform to the Black Wings again!" Daisuke almost screamed, fed up with everything about this woman and this place. He'd been careful not to mention Dark by name, because Shira didn't seem to know anything about the Black Wings except that it possessed a life force and her master wanted it. The less he seemed to know, the better, but it was beginning to look like they wouldn't give up on making him transform until he died in the process.

'You psycho idiots, he's gone. He's never coming back, not to me and not to you. And it's a damn good thing, too,' he thought bitterly. He wanted nothing to do with these people, and especially not Dark. That part of his life was over. He was free now; it was time for him to have his life all to himself.

Part of him was terrified that they might find some way to bring Dark back into his head. It was a horrible thing to think, but the thought wasn't hurting anyone. Dark was gone, maybe even dead. It had taken him nearly a year to adjust to the loss, to finally stop seeking voices in the back of his head, to stop trying to transform by staring into Riku's eyes. He'd had no one he could tell, no one who would understand. It was like going insane. He'd eventually decided he couldn't obsess over Dark forever. Who could blame him for moving on with his life?

His thoughts were interrupted as a metal gate slid open at the side of the room and a new figure entered the room. Daisuke strained his neck to see the person. It was a man, slim and tall, with a slender face and hair that hung in a neat, straight tail tied at the base of his neck. His eyes were black and inexpressive, and he wore a coal-gray button-up shirt tucked neatly into khaki slacks with a leather belt.

The man walked up to Shira, who stood to meet him. Daisuke thought he detected a certain friction between the two almost immediately. There was something feral and testing in her eyes as she nodded to him and said "Morning, Trap."

"What were the results of your testing," he returned matter-of-factly. There was something snakelike in his manner, disinterested but deadly.

Shira made a visible effort to conceal her irritation at Trap's down-to-business attitude. "No doubt about it, he's the host," she said, thunking a stack of paper into his hand. "Brat's a mite uncooperative, though."

Trap studied the results and then raised his eyes to the woman. "I'll take it from here. You can return to your usual post."

"How do you intend to bring the Black Wings out? Everything I've tried has failed," Shira challenged hotly.

"My instructions come from Christopher Gorudo. Do you wish to challenge them?" Trap said, his chilly voice utterly devoid of feeling.

Shira glared at her colleague. He thought he was so impressive. Well, he had a bit of a right to be cocky, as the most brilliant scientist in the compound and Gorudo's half-brother. She, on the other hand, was merely a bodyguard temporarily performing the duties of a lab tech. Still, it brought a devilish smirk to her face to know that she could deck him easy in a scuffle. "Don't break him, or we'll never get anything from him," she advised, collecting herself to leave the room. "So long, kid. Do yourself a favor and cooperate with Trap here," she warned Daisuke. Her leather boots clicked against the polished floor as she left the room.

When the steel gate clicked shut behind her, Daisuke looked up at this new captor. Trap didn't seem to be paying him any mind, walking over to the machine that was still spitting out readings. He gathered the readings that had accumulated and clapped the pile against the desk to even them. Instead of going through them as Daisuke was expecting, he set them aside and turned off the machine. The printer squeaked to a halt.

"Not going to keep spying on my brainwaves?" Daisuke said testily, his impatience making the quiet boy cheekier than usual.

"The method's potential has been exhausted," Trap said, his voice so level and sincere that Daisuke relaxed a little despite himself. The boy drew his head back a little as Trap approached him and began removing the sensors from his skin. The sensation in his bare chest made Daisuke turn his gaze stiffly to the side to avoid Trap's midnight eyes. The scientist completed his task quickly with no unnecessary movements, and then pulled back to the desk to return the sensors to their container.

"Look, I know you're here because you want the Black Wings, but I really can't transform. I have no way to give it to you. I just want to know if my girlfriend's safe," Daisuke told him wearily.

"I believe you," Trap said, pressing a button on the computer.

"You do?" Daisuke flinched as the bonds on his wrists and ankles released with a mechanical hiss. He stretched his wrists carefully, staring at Trap.

"You may not remember how to transform, but there is no doubt," he thunked his hand down on the huge stack of brainwave readouts, "that you are still host to the Black Wings. Or, should I say Dark Mousy?"

Daisuke frowned, unable to keep the uncertainty out of his features. "You really think those results mean he's still inside of me?"

Trap pulled a plain white scrub shirt off a hook on the wall and threw it to Daisuke. "That's one possibility. The other is that he exists somewhere else, and has somehow retained a psychic link with you from outside your body. Or existed."

"Existed?"

Trap frowned, as if perturbed that he really had to explain everything. "When an astronomer witnesses the death of a star in his telescope, he is not seeing something that occurred at that moment. By the time the light reaches his lens, the star may have been dead for hundreds, even thousands of years. Our species knows very little about the phenomenon of thought. If the being known as Dark has spent time on another plane, his existence may have already ended in a different time continuum, but still be playing in your own subconscious."

The thought of Dark's brain patterns living on in him after the angel's death made Daisuke suddenly turn pale. Could Trap be right? After all, he knew almost nothing about how his bond with Dark actually worked. He suddenly wanted to know. He had to know the truth about what was happening. He thought about it hard and pulled the loose shirt over his head, wincing as he stretched his wounded side. If there was any chance that Dark could be brought back to this realm, the effort of accepting Dark's absence would be wasted, and Daisuke might never be able to rest peacefully. He hated to admit it, but if his kidnappers released him now, he'd regret it.

"I have no reason to trust you people. But if you can show me the truth about whether Dark's truly gone, I'll cooperate."

"You want proof that he no longer exists that badly?"

Daisuke clenched his fists, his resolve gathering. "Yes."

Trap observed him coolly. "You do realize that I'm here to revive Dark, by any means possible. There's no one in the world more equipped to accomplish it."

"Then if you fail, at least I'll be sure," Daisuke met his gaze evenly.

Trap considered the teen, taking his time to think under Daisuke's tense stare. "Well, then, wing host, I look forward to your help," he said, his voice almost friendly. He extended a lean hand to the boy.

"My name's Niwa Daisuke," the boy clarified, returning the shake without relish.

"Very well, Niwa-san," the man said, his chilled black eyes impossible to read, "Let's get started."

TBC

-oO0Oo-

Next chapter – Krad grudgingly attends an art festival, where an unexpected disaster changes everything. Will he meet his former wing host at exactly the wrong moment?

If you reviewed last chapter but didn't see my response, that's because I ran out of time and only just put them up now! They're there in part 11 if you want to see.

Falsetto54 – Thank you for reviewing! The decision on whether to include outside characters is always important, and I appreciate your opinion. I personally feel that using them with the right balance adds new excitement to the existing characters and helps increase the options for drama and plot available to the author of the fanfic. There are several OC's in this story, but as it continues, I think you'll find that the DN Angel characters are safely still the main event, and the OC's help to develop them later.

To my friendly ghosts – Thank you for reading!! If you have a few seconds, I'd love to know what you think so far.