Chapter 27: Secrets and Lies
"Dr. Trap, what an unexpected pleasure," the cold voice came from the other end of the line.
"I have some questions," the scientist's voice spoke clearly.
"Yes, I understand we had a rather embarrassing incident last night. You must be confused."
Trap sat back in his chair and gazed thoughtfully at his computer monitor. He pressed the button in and out on his ball point pen. Click-chk. Click-chk. "You chose not to tell me the Black Wings was already here."
"Yes, do forgive us for that. There was no need for you to know."
"Shira was told," Trap pointed out, clicking the pen thoughtfully.
"For security reasons, Special Ops was informed. It made sense for Shira to know."
Trap set the pen down on his desk to type something on his keyboard while Gorudo spoke. "The objective of my research is to summon a being that is already here in our facility. Can you explain why I don't need to know?"
"There was a change of plans," the CEO said matter-of-factly. "An opportunity came, and we took it. I'm sure you can understand. I can explain some of the details, but it's rather boring, really."
"I don't require the details," the scientist said. "How does this affect my research?"
"The technology you've developed is still necessary, and the procedure will still take place tonight."
"I don't follow."
"I believe we should discuss this face to face. Come up to my office at noon, and we'll talk all about it," Gorudo said.
"Understood. And the boy?"
"Keep him secure. We'll still need his presence for the procedure. Other than that, we have no further use for him. I do hope you aren't too bogged down in work without Shira to assist you."
"The preparations are already complete. I'm sure she's more useful where she is now," Trap noted, picking up his pen again. Click-chk. "I'm just spending some time on the web," he mused, leaning in closer to his monitor as something caught his eye."
"Good. See you at noon, then."
"Noon," the scientist confirmed, setting the receiver down as he studied his screen. "Interesting," he murmured to himself.
-o0o0OOO0o0o-
Daisuke's eyes rose grimly to the lab door as the lock hissed open. The heavy door slid sideways to reveal Trap's familiar silhouette. The neuroscientist stepped into the room with solemn indifference, holding a clipboard under one arm and a pen in his opposite hand. His cool grey eyes met the boy's angry stare as he entered. When Daisuke didn't offer up the words that seemed to be gleaming in his red eyes, the scientist walked to the work area that was set up along the side of the room and began examining some papers that had printed out. He carried one sheet over to his glaring test subject and dropped it in the boy's lap.
"Know who that is?" the scientist asked flatly.
The boy snatched it up and stared at it for a long moment. It was a screenshot printed off of YouTube. It bore an image of a white-winged man with gold hair, his back to the camera, struggling to hold up a crumbling building above his head. The Niwa stared at the image like it was covered in dead insects. How could something like this exist? Was it someone's sick idea of a joke?
Daisuke took a deep breath and told himself it couldn't be real. "I don't know," he offered coldly.
"Really." Trap cast the boy a brief look before returning to his work. He examined the readings on one of the machines and took some notes on the clipboard, content to ignore his test subject.
"Dark is here." The boy's words echoed in the sterile room.
"He is," Trap acknowledged, continuing his task without much regard for the boy.
"You never told me he was here."
"I wasn't aware."
Daisuke went silent and studied his captor fiercely. "Why should I believe you?"
"You've given me all the data I require. I don't need you to believe me," Trap noted as he scribbled something down and then clicked his pen down and up again.
"All you require for what? You were supposed to use me to break his seal. That obviously isn't necessary, so what exactly is it that we've been doing here?" Daisuke growled. "What are you planning to do with him?"
"A little late to be asking things like that, isn't it?"
Daisuke's gut twisted. "When I agreed to cooperate with this insane thing, I thought anyplace was better for him than where he was. I thought he was trapped, sealed in with—" He broke off and his expression glazed over.
The scientist paused in his work long enough to look over at the boy idly. "Sealed in with what?" he probed.
"I won't do anything that's going to hurt him," Daisuke warned, ignoring the question.
"Your cooperation is no longer required, so you'll have very little choice."
Daisuke threw up his hands. "How am I supposed to trust you when you're hiding things from me?" he demanded.
"You are hiding things from me as well," Trap pointed out.
"I'm a hostage! I get to hide things! You're supposed to be my creepy yet bizarrely straightforward mad-scientist kidnapper who acts all cold and emotionless but actually tells the truth and decides to do the right thing at the last moment!"
Trap lifted his head from his papers and turned an expressionless gaze on the redhead, his gray eyes holding nothing but dull impatience. "This is life, not some comic book. I'm a scientist with research to perform. I'm the most qualified person to do this work, and I don't get emotionally entrenched in my projects. If you thought differently, that was your mistake."
"Trap…" the boy asked darkly. "Did you lie to me about Riku?"
The scientist frowned at the boy. "Yes." He showed no response to the spreading shock on the boy's face. He walked over to stand in front of Daisuke. "And you already know it. You saw her thrown from the cliff." Daisuke's eyes looked hollow as the scientist stared him down indifferently. "This is the last time I'll warn you: All of this is real. Stop humoring yourself."
The boy's furious gaze was like paper scratching at steel as Trap calmly turned and packed up the papers he'd come for. "We'll complete the procedure tonight, and your role here will be done," he said.
"What 'procedure?' He's here! …Trap! He's already here!" the boy growled as the scientist ignored him and made his way out of the room.
-o0o0OOO0o0o-
"Trap."
The scientist paused mid-step and turned to face the voice behind him. A female figure stood a few yards behind him in the long hallway, her hands planted on her hips.
"Who is guarding the Black Wings?" he asked her. There wasn't a shred of greeting in his tone.
Shira frowned and glanced at the wall. "I need to speak with you."
"Yes?" He raised his eyebrows at her.
She paused uncomfortably, picking out her words. "Were you just with the boy?"
"Yes."
"How is he?"
"He's secure."
She pulled her fingers through her fire-red hair. "You're still mad."
"I'm not mad. What did you need to ask?" he offered. He clicked his pen in and out as he observed her patiently.
"I couldn't tell you about the Black Wings. It was an order, and I only knew for a very short time," Shira whispered as she stepped closer to him.
"I know that," he said calmly. "You don't need to worry about it."
"I'm not! I was just following orders, for god's-sake!"
Trap's forehead knitted slightly. His cool grey eyes studied her like she was a Rubik's cube. "I know."
"Trap, we've been working together nonstop for the last week. We're not strangers anymore, so don't treat me like one," she pressed.
"I'm not. I said we could speak." He tilted his head slightly, the way he did when he saw something that didn't make sense. "But if that's everything, I need to get back to my office and do some work," he said.
"You're really not going to ask me? About the Black Wings?"
"Are you authorized to answer if I do?" Trap asked, resting his thumb on the button of his pen as he studied her.
"No…"
He blinked at her. "Then there's no need to talk about it."
"Maybe I need to talk about it," Shira snapped impatiently.
"You can talk about it when they ask you to," Trap reaffirmed flatly.
"Damn it, Trap, quit being a stone wall!" she whispered to be sure no one else could overhear them, "I need help, here, and you're the only person I can go to. Whatever I'm guarding up there, it's not just some artifact."
"Yes, it is."
"You haven't spent time with it yet. It talks, and I swear to god it acts just like it has feelings."
"It's a piece of art. Its brain processes mimic ours. That's all," the scientist concluded flatly.
"Is that really what you believe?" Shira studied him uneasily. His expression gave her nothing. Was she making a huge mistake by going to him with this? "Trap, I need to know if that thing up there is alive or not. This isn't what I signed on for… After what happened with the girl… I can't do this again. I need to know what's happening here. Do you understand?" Her eyes begged him for a human response.
"Perform your job," he advised. "There's no room for confusion here. If your personal feelings are interfering, you'll be removed from the project."
"I'm only telling you, no one else," Shira shot back.
"And if your attitude threatens the project, I'll be forced to report it. Understand? Overcome your personal reaction and perform your job."
Shira narrowed her eyes on him uncertainly. "You're saying you seriously don't think something fishy is going on here? It's ok if it comes out all wrong, as long as you finish your research? Do you even know what we're supposed to be doing to the boy and that…thing tonight?" she demanded.
"Yes."
"You're lying."
"You're pushing over the line," Trap warned sternly. "Stop trying to make this personal."
"Alright, sugar. If this really isn't bothering you at all, then why are you doing that?"
"What?"
"That! You keep messing with your pen."
Trap glanced down at the pen he'd been clicking. "That's a fairly common habit," he noted condescendingly.
"You never did it before," Shira insisted.
"You're insulting me," Trap said, a glint of rare anger forming in his eyes. "Go back to your post and do your job."
Shira stared at him, trying hard to look mad and not hurt by his attitude. "What the hell's wrong with you?" she said scornfully as she turned her back on him and walked back the way she'd come.
"Shira," Trap called. She stopped and looked angrily over her shoulder. "Talk to anyone else about this, and I'll report you."
She clenched her fists at her sides and kept walking.
Trap watched her detachedly for several moments before turning to proceed toward his office.
Click-chk.
Click-chk.
Click-chk.
-o0o0OOO0o0o-
He opened his lids to a pale white ceiling. Moving his eyes slowly to avoid provoking the ache looming behind them, he turned his gaze to the left. The room he was lying in was as nondescript as his memories of getting there. The blinds on the curtainless windows were drawn tight, but late-afternoon sunlight cut in from around them and cast shadows across the plain but clean room. The furniture was simple; practical. Next to the window were a desk and a bookcase. Perhaps it was just the vibe of waking up in a strange room, but the things on the shelves looked like exactly that: things. Arranged neatly on the horizontal space, nothing about them suggested that they were cherished, that they were someone's possessions. It made the space impersonal, almost like a movie set.
He stared at the window again, craving sunlight. His thoughts felt disconnected, like he'd slept for far too long. But he hadn't gone to sleep… at least not here.
The memories began as a trickle and quickly erupted into a flood. Krad held his breath stiffly as he sifted through everything that had happened – Midnight's torture, Satoshi's appearance, the car chase, the argument that followed, the flight, …the roof. He didn't remember anything after landing on the roof.
He noticed the softness of fabric under him for the first time, and twisted his head uncertainly. His gold eyes narrowed in confusion. A head of blue hair was resting face-down on pale, crossed arms on the edge of the mattress. The boy was sitting in a chair next to the bed, leaning forward onto the sheets. Krad shot up to a sitting position, his wings arching outward. The movement put little daggers through the backs of his eyes. A blue-gray sheet spilled down to pool around his waist. Fighting off panic, the angel looked down at himself. His wounded hand had been cleaned and bandaged. Except for the dizziness, he didn't feel drugged. How had the boy gotten him here? Why wasn't he restrained?
What a fool the Hikari was, to let his guard down and sleep there next to him. It would be so easy to kill him, he thought bitterly. How dare the boy think he'd do otherwise? How dare he condescend to him this way? None of this made sense. He looked down at his unbound hands and felt his world falling apart. It was a trick. The boy planned to trap him here by playing games with his mind. It wouldn't work.
He raised his good hand slowly and pulled one of his feathers loose. He pointed it at Satoshi in earnest. A bead of sweat rolled off his brow as he sat there in a deadlock with his thoughts. It would be so easy…yet he didn't follow through. He wanted to scream.
He grit his teeth in horror. He couldn't do it. Slowly, with near-painful deliberation, he dropped the feather. It fell to the bedsheet in front of Satoshi. Krad stared at the abandoned weapon. "No," he breathed, disgust building up within him. He needed Satoshi to do something… to piss him off so he could find his nerve. How dare he bring him here! Gold eyes flashed to the boy. "Wake up, now!" he snarled.
He grabbed Satoshi's hair and tugged his head roughly up to face him. A wash of startled pain jumped through Krad's mind as the boy snapped awake and stared at him with vivid blue eyes. Then the sensation blotted out, hidden behind Satoshi's shields.
Krad took a look at his face and fought a reflex to release his harsh grip on the boy. Satoshi was white as a sheet, and his skin glowed with sweat. "What am I doing here?" the angel heard himself demand.
Satoshi grimaced and stared the angel down. "If you don't let go, I might puke on you," he warned dizzily.
Krad slowly uncurled his fingers from the boy's hair and withdrew his hand. "What's wrong with you? You were okay before," he pressed. He sounded annoyed, but looking at the boy was knotting his stomach. This wasn't right. He needed to snap out of it, to do something so he could be himself again.
"Guess some things got worse," Satoshi muttered and tilted his head to a more comfortable position. His eyes flickered over the angel searchingly for an instant before returning to meet that golden stare. "How do you feel?" he asked without enthusiasm, straightening up very slowly while his ribs protested every inch of movement.
"Why did you bring me here?" the angel demanded again, ignoring his question.
"You passed out. Someone would have found you on the roof."
"I would have taken care of it," Krad said ominously.
"Oh, sorry. I should have just left you alone to kill any bystanders that happened upon your half-dead body." He gave a shallow laugh that sounded like it hurt.
Krad scowled distrustfully. He grabbed the boy by the front of his shirt and tugged him up out of his chair. "You cannot threaten me in your condition. I am not staying here," he hissed into Satoshi's face.
The boy managed not to groan at the sudden movement, though he looked delirious for a moment. "I know," he returned quietly. He made no move to fight, no sign of protest at the angel's treatment of him.
Krad glared at the boy. Satoshi's expression was locked down, pale. He looked miserable. The boy's non-confrontational attitude was making him nervous and, for reasons he couldn't pin down, angry. "Say something," the angel growled. "I know you shield the link between us. I know I'm hurting you, so open your damned mouth and say something!" Tightening his grip on Satoshi's shirt, he jerked the boy sideways as he climbed off the bed and walked him up against a wall. The movement made Satoshi wince, but he didn't fight back, which only seemed to heighten the angel's wrath. Krad leaned in toward him fiercely. "What do you think you're doing? Protecting me, you condescending brat?" he pressed.
"I won't let you feel this," Satoshi seethed, almost too hoarse to be understood. He grabbed onto the arm that was pinning him to the wall and pulled at it in vain. His blue eyes clouded. "I won't give you the satisfaction," he groaned.
"Satisfaction?" Krad demanded, pressing Satoshi harder into the wall. He couldn't explain why the boy's reticence was getting him so pissed off. Satoshi's breath broke apart into thin gasps, and still he was sheltering him, hiding from their link. It was maddening to be kept out. It made no sense. "Do not dare protect me!" Krad rasped.
The pain in Satoshi's expression was no longer hidden, but something crazed inside the angel refused to stop pushing him. He was trying to make the boy snap. He knew very well that he was doing it. But he couldn't control the impulse to get Satoshi to drop that blank wall of detachment.
That didn't mean he was prepared for what would happen when it worked.
The wing host's eyes flashed at him, colder than the angel had ever seen them. A barricade opened within his mind, bringing behind it an avalanche of sensations. Krad could feel the piercing sting of something broken and wrong inside his chest, crushed with some unseen vice. He felt dizzy and sickly chilled, like every pore on his body had broken into a cold sweat.
But more than anything, a rage so strong that it scalded his nerves poured through the link Satoshi had just thrown wide.
"Is this what you want, asshole?" a voice far stronger than Satoshi's physical body could muster right now boomed in the angel's head. The thought was wild, almost mad with hurt. "Feels good, doesn't it? Breaking me? Drives you wild, doing this to me. Is it out of your system? Need some more?"
The angel's eyes went wide as Satoshi suddenly reversed his efforts to repel the angel's oppressing arm and instead tugged Krad's fist harder into his chest. Pain exploded around both of them, drawing a grunt from Satoshi and a breathless gasp from the blonde. Satoshi glared at him wildly, pain-tears escaping down his cheeks as he stared the angel down. The boy was seriously ready to hurt himself.
"Satoshi-sama…stop," Krad gasped, tugging his arm out of the boy's grip. The pain abated with the release of pressure, but the anger didn't. There was much more going on there, behind all the anger, but understanding it was like looking through a sandstorm.
"I hate you. Selfish, arrogant monster, I hate you!" Satoshi's voice screamed through their link.
The blood drained from Krad's expression as he finally began to feel what lay behind that overwhelming wall of anger in the boy. He didn't know any word to describe this sense of helpless outrage, like something terribly secret and fragile was being ripped wide and touched, violated. The mood was disturbingly familiar to him. Recently familiar.
No. Krad fought in panic for an explanation that would clarify why he wasn't the same as Midnight to the boy right now. Before he could find one, the door to Satoshi's mind slammed angrily in his face. He was left abruptly back in his own body and thoughts, and he was shaking.
Satoshi swallowed dryly as he looked away from the angel and focused on regaining his composure. He wrapped an arm loosely around his chest and leaned back against the wall to catch his breath. "God, I'm losing my mind," he murmured, sliding down the wall to sit on the ground. Never mind the fact that Krad was still standing in front of him. If the angel wanted to attack him now, he could. It didn't feel like his legs could hold him at the moment, anyway.
Krad stood glued in place. "Satoshi-sama…" he breathed.
"Don't do that to me again," the boy whispered. He dug both hands back into his blue hair and pressed his eyes shut. "Don't force me open. I'm not your punching bag."
"Fine. Fine…" Krad said uneasily, noting the frantic, shallow rise and fall of Satoshi's chest. The kid wasn't doing well. He'd known that before. In forcing him to open up, had he managed to hurt the boy worse? Why had he pressed the issue at all? Why did he feel this way now? "You're not breathing right," he noted.
Satoshi opened his eyes to cast the angel a frustrated look. "Give me a minute," he muttered.
Krad took a step back and waited briefly, monitoring the boy's condition. "Your lips are turning blue," the angel prodded.
"Are you going to attack me, or do you just plan to annoy me to death," Satoshi winced between thin gasps.
The blonde frowned and turned for the door.
"Don't go that way," Satoshi ordered hoarsely as the angel took hold of the knob.
The blonde paused for a moment, careful not to look back at his wing host. "I'm not going," he forced out quietly, "You need help."
Satoshi blinked and shook his head in disbelief. "No, Krad, I seriously meant, don't go that w-" he pressed, too late.
The angel pulled the door open and immediately froze. Five feet outside in Satoshi's living room, Riku Harada was standing watch in a chair facing the door. She was holding Satoshi's pistol trained directly on the angel's chest.
And she looked ready to use it.
"Don't. Move," she ordered coldly.
-o0o0OOO0o0o-
TBC!
Happy fourth of July! Whew, finally got this wrapped up! I recently adopted a pair of sugar gliders who have been greedily hogging up my time, but at last, I'm able to write again! Thank you guys so much for the reviews and ideas – they really help me plan out where to focus on the coming chapters : ) Some of the questions are so tempting to answer, but eek spoilers! I will say that we'll be seeing our friendly neighborhood veterinarian very soon, and that Dark will be back in play next chapter : )
Also, another new piece of fan art is up in my profile. Just a picture of Krad waking up in the last scene of this chapter. Shirtlessness involved, mu ha ha.
Please let me know what you think!