Episode 6:
Hounds of Love
I
"Good morning, Angel."
626's insipid little smile was the first thing she saw as her eyes creaked open. The second thing was the pot of hibiscuses he offered to her.
624 couldn't help but grin. He seemed all too anxious to give her the perfect opportunity to enthrall him. She had spent most of the night wondering how she'd pry him away from his overbearing Earthling friend. His having gotten up early just to greet her, having done her work for her, and offering himself up on a silver platter were even greater gifts than the flowers could ever hope to be.
She didn't waste anymore time; she stood up from her makeshift laundry basket bed, taking him by the shoulders in case he realized what she was about to do and tried to escape.
All she had to do now was sing and enjoy the satisfaction of a mission accomplished.
"Acoota chi meeto,
"Ikata no moota,
"Naga to nala,
"Itume te dooka…"
She released his shoulders and peered into his black eyes, anxious to watch them fade into submissiveness and then march him back to Gantu's ship, ready to take him on as well.
He smiled.
She hadn't told him to smile.
She hadn't told him to smile!
"Nice pipes," he said, offering the hibiscuses again.
She felt thunder in her heart. She gave a weak attempt at returning his smile, hoping it would mask the color fleeing from her face.
He was immune to her siren song; she couldn't control him.
She scorned herself; she'd been so focused on getting Jumba's database to Gantu that she hadn't thought to check her own file. She could picture an addendum there now: 'all future Experiments to be programmed with anti-siren protocol.'
She couldn't control him.
He just kept standing there, smiling as if all was right in the world.
She couldn't control him!
He could do anything!
She turned and bolted for the front door, only barely outpacing her pounding heart. She glanced only once over her shoulder to find him frozen, his disappointed gaze following her.
She didn't stay still long; she had to get out of there.
She had to regain control.
II
Stitch's adorable smile was the first thing she saw as the elevator doors whirred open.
Angel couldn't help but grin. He seemed all too anxious to leap into the biggest hug his super strength could accommodate, but he stayed put on his chosen bench. Behind him, the leisure wing's trademark skyscraper-sized window meshed his ocean blue fur with the star-dotted eternity beyond.
The scene was made all the more perfect by the cinnamon scent of the crimson Venusian roses Angel held.
"You're early," Stitch said as their noses met.
"Says the one already here," Angel said. "I got you these. Thought they'd remind you of home."
"Aw, thanks, booj." He kissed her again before smelling them. "I love them. Oh, and I got you something, too."
He held up a strip of metal with blue and pink stripes.
"A capo!" Angel cheered. "Aw, and it's in our colors."
"It didn't come like that," Stitch said. "I found a blue one and, uh… I painted some pink onto it. I thought you'd like that."
"I love it. Thank you so much, booj. I can't wait to get back to my guitar; I'm gonna play the coolest version of 'Fast Car' with this."
Angel caught Stitch's eyes wandering towards the colossal window. He suddenly seemed miles away, as if a voice had called out to him from the distant stars.
"Stitch?" She said, taking his hand.
Her touch seemed to anchor him; he blinked as he faced her again, his smile returning.
"Yeah, booj?"
"You okay?"
He didn't answer straight away. "Yeah. I'm great, Angie. I always feel great when I'm with you."
She smiled back at him, but already she knew she'd be asking him again later.
"Hey," he said. "Let's go see if our table's ready. I've been daydreaming of karaoke and mai tais all day."
III
The doors were sealed and Hamsterviel's monologue was well underway. For now, 624 was content to stand, smile, and watch as Gantu prepared to release his army of Experiments. At least, they would be his army for as long as she felt he should have it. She'd be calling the shots soon enough; all she had to do for now was enjoy the show.
She kept an eye on 626; even cornered, she couldn't bear to look away from him. After all, he could do anything.
However, all he did was look back at her. She hadn't seen him like this before; his face was sunken like a melting candle. Somehow, his eyes stung her.
'Stop looking at me like that,' she thought. 'At least look angry. You can be angry at me; I wouldn't care about that. This is so much worse.'
He wouldn't stop; she wished more than ever that she could make him stop.
There was still time before the countdown started; she snaked one of her antennae back up to the door controls and stepped outside.
She thought the fresh air and the lakeside would do her some good. Instead, it only reminded her of his stinging gaze. She shut her eyes, leaning her forehead against the rock cliffside beside the waterfall, but his face was burned into her mind's eye.
'Why can't you just be angry?' She thought. 'Anyone else would be angry.'
She brought her forehead back and drove it into the rock, then turned and stormed back to the ship. She never looked back to see the crack in the rock fleeing up the cliffside, desperate to get away from her.
IV
"Ooh, don't break the spell…"
Angel's third performance was well underway. For now, Stitch was content to sit, smile, and watch her do her thing.
"'Cause it'll be different, you know it will…"
She loved the large venues she and the X-Periments had taken on over the years; she loved the sea of cheers and applause and the delightful tingle she got when she heard so many other voices singing with her. But she couldn't deny that there was something even more special about her and Stitch's favorite people, sharing a karaoke booth, a few appies, and their favorite lyrics together.
"Ooh, you make loving fun,
"And I don't have to tell you,
"But you're the only one…"
She finished her performance with a twirl and a bow, watching her skunk stripe droop from her head before she straightened back up. She found Stitch applauding her, her favorite grin of his shining like a sun above their table's ruined village of empty glasses and dirty plates.
"Alright," Angel said with a laugh. "I've had two turns now, so now let's see you do some serenading."
"Oh, I can hardly serenade," Stitch said. "I'm a born shower-singer. I only sound good when I sing with you."
"Just pretend you're in the shower, then," Angel said. "Besides, I want a couple of those spring rolls before you have them all."
"Alright, alright…" Stitch said as they swapped places. Angel stretched out on the bright red couch as Stitch stepped up to the podium-mounted screen, browsing the bar's selection of songs.
"Oh, cool," he said. "They have some Saturian jazz on here."
According to Angel, there were many different types of singing. Shower-singing, as Stitch had mentioned - lonely but comfortable. There was the type she specialized in, meant for crowds and parties. Then there was the rarest type, which even the singer could never anticipate: the brutally, violently honest type.
"When I was a child, running in the night,
"Afraid of what might be,
"Hiding in the dark, hiding in the street,
"And of what was following me!"
Angel slowly sat up, her heart sinking as she realized which type Stitch sang in now.
"The hounds of love are hunting,
"I've always been a coward,
"And I don't know what's good for me!"
She had to ask why he'd choose this song. On their fun night out, why wouldn't he choose one of his favorite upbeat Elvis rockers, shaking his hips and pulling off his best imitation of the iconic smirk? Or one of her favorite power ballads, complete with air guitar and an impromptu partner dance?
She knew him well enough to know that he never picked any song at random.
"Oh, here I go,
"Don't let me go,
"Hold me down,
"It's coming for me through the trees!"
In a lucid moment amid his loud, throaty performance, he met her eyes.
"Oh, help me, darling,
"Help me, please,
"Take my shoes off and throw them in the lake,
"And I'll be two steps on the water!"
At that, Angel stood up and approached him. Without telling it to, her hand found his shoulder.
"I don't know what's good for me.
"I-!"
He halted and silenced at her touch. His eyes quivered as Kate Bush's powerful echo serenaded their quiet moment.
"I don't know what's good for me…" He whispered with the echo.
"You wanna talk about what's wrong?" Angel asked, her hand rising to caress his cheek.
He shut his eyes, his head and ears falling and dragging Angel's heart down with them. His hand rose to meet hers at his cheek, where a tear fell onto their fur.
He opened his eyes again, struggling to look at her.
"Promise you won't hate me," he said.
V
624 didn't see much point in getting up anymore. She was content to lie on the floor; it was her favorite activity, barely above banging her head against the glass shield that reduced her world to four gray walls.
She hated that she still thought about 626, although there was little else to think about.
He didn't have to say those things about her. He didn't have to make her feel those things. That pity, that guilt, that hope that she could be something other than just another of the manipulative monsters that Jumba and Hamsterviel had churned out ages ago.
The real monsters were the ones who created all those feelings.
She would escape; it was only a matter of time. Gantu was stupid; he'd make a mistake soon enough. She'd be there, ready to travel lightyears once she was given the faintest inch. And there was nothing 626 could do about it.
Not that it seemed he would bother anyway. Clearly he had more important things to deal with than all the other monsters.
She shut her eyes and hoped she wouldn't dream again.
VI
"You don't have to," Angel said immediately. Only after she spoke did she realize that Stitch hadn't asked her a question; he'd given her a warning.
"I feel like I do," Stitch said, his sunken face darker than the deep space out the window behind him.
"I've always felt like I've had to, but this time, with him, it feels so much harder."
"It doesn't have to be," Angel said. "After everything he's done, he doesn't deserve your attention. He won't understand!"
"I'm sure that he won't," Stitch said, softer than her but somehow still cutting through. "But I can't help feeling like something even worse will happen if I don't at least try."
"But why?!" Angel stepped towards him, but he stood still.
"Why do you owe him that?!"
"Because Lilo didn't owe me anything," he said, looking right in her eyes. "But she still helped me. Even after everything I did, she helped me."
Angel's voice came out louder than she meant it to. "She didn't save you so you could give yourself up to that… Thing!"
"We've all been called that at some point," Stitch said, as calmly as ever. "You or me or any of our cousins could've done much worse things if Lilo and Nani and David and everyone else back home hadn't been there for us."
"He's not like us!"
"He might not be, but I don't know. He might be like D-"
"He was scared and confused! That's what Checkers did to people! Without Checkers, he wouldn't have..!" She stopped, her belief in her words evaporating before she could finish them.
"But Zorek isn't like him! He's had time to meditate on everything, on everybody he's pulled into his demented scheme!"
"And I am thinking about them," Stitch pleaded. "But I have to know what it was all for."
"We'll find out when we get him!"
"I think we'll have to know to get him."
"And what if he-" Angel stopped and turned away from him. She barely stopped herself from smashing her forehead against the window. Her tears burned.
"I'm sorry," Stitch said. She could tell that he meant it.
"I'm really frustrated with you right now," she muttered.
"I'm sorry."
"No, it's…" She let out her heaviest sigh. "... He's more like how I was than how you were."
"Angel…"
"He wants to be in control of everyone. He won't be happy until everyone does exactly what he wants."
She heaved her head back up; her tears mirrored his.
"Who do we know who used to do exactly that?"
They hugged; neither could tell who had pulled the other in.
"I'm not saying that I think we can save him," Stitch said. "I'm not even saying that I want to save him. But if I don't at least try to do for him what was done for me, for you, for Flute and Dan and Chop and Leroy and all of us… If we don't at least try now, when it's harder than it's ever been, probably as hard as it's ever going to be… Then how strong can it really be?"
"I only ask one thing," Angel said.
"Anything."
"I want to come with you."
"You don't have to."
"I want to… It won't be like it was all those years ago." She pulled away so their noses could touch.
"This time I know for sure we'll get out."
Stitch managed a smile through his tears.
"Besides," Angel added, "we'll have to get out so I can give Nani ten dollars."
"Huh?" Stitch said.
"At the wedding, she told me she'd bet ten dollars that you and I would have our first argument in three months. Something like where the garbage cans should go or who should book the next vacation."
Stitch looked at her for a moment, then a laugh slowly bubbled out of him. Within seconds, they clutched each other with howling laughter.
Finally, their laughter faded. Still holding each other, they said the same thing in perfect harmony.
"I love you."
VII
"I'll be home later!"
The crimson dusk sky brought a cool breeze to the warm Hawaiian air. 624 thought long ago that she would have traded it in for the vast reaches of deep space by now. She hadn't given herself time to consider how refreshing it felt.
She and 626 walked hand-in-hand to the beach, admiring the sunset all the way. When they arrived, they found a spot far enough away from the early evening surfers that they could pretend they had the whole place to themselves. They stood for a few moments, letting the foamy white water sweep around their ankles, burying their feet in warm sand.
624 took it all in and tried to feel something. She was nearly there, but she was out of practice.
Finally, 626 said something.
"I'm sorry," he said in their native Tantalog tongue. "I should've come for you sooner. For all of you… So many more of us came back since that night; there was always another fire to put out. I should've done more, I should've asked for more help, but I didn't."
624 turned to him and looked at his eyes. She hadn't noticed during the escape, but his eyes were dark and sunken. She recognized them from her reflection in her cell's glass shield after many sleepless nights; after all, what use did a prisoner have for sleep?
"But you don't have to forgive me for that. I don't even want you to. I just wanted you to be free… We should all be free. That's what I love about this planet, about this place. They all want everybody to be free; they give speeches about it, write songs about it, tell stories about it. I want that to be my story, and I want it to be your story…"
His ears fell as he looked down at the water rushing away from him back to the sea. He smiled at it through his sunken eyes.
"Even if it's not our story…" He said.
624 thought she'd have more to say to him. She'd filled so many bitter nights with mental rehearsals of venomous tirades. The evening sun dried them all up. Instead, she pulled him into a hug.
They both let out the months' worth of tears they'd been saving up.
When they were all spent, they still clutched each other, and whispered the same thing at the same time.
"I'm sorry."
VIII
Geared up with their oxygen fields, Stitch and Angel squeezed each other's hands as they stepped from their ship onto Nyell's sandy ocean floor.
"You ready?" Angel asked.
"Doesn't matter," Stitch said. "You?"
"Like you said."
"Yeah…"
"We've got everything planned out. They'll be right behind us."
"I know… I'm more worried about what's ahead… I'm not used to that."
"Neither am I… You want some music?"
"Sure."
"Anything in particular?"
"No. I'm happy with anything."
Angel pressed a button on her uniform's sleeve. They stepped towards the undersea town in time with the slow piano keys.
"I'm just the pieces of the man I used to be,
"Too many bitter tears are raining down on me,
"I'm far away from home,
"And I've been facing this alone for much too long…"
They hadn't gotten a good look at the town before. Little octopi swam between the beautiful stone and steel buildings; it reminded them of the Mighty Pudge's glorious submerged kingdom back home. They felt their hearts skip; perhaps there would be more to remind them of home here. Perhaps there was some hope for Nyell.
"How would it be if you were standing in my shoes?
"Can't you see that it's impossible to choose,
"No, there's no way of making sense of it,
"Every way I go, I'm bound to lose…"
They thought again once they were face-to-face with one of the octopi; he floated away from a building which Stitch and Angel assumed was a school. They could only guess from the smaller creatures waving goodbye to the octopus as they swam away from his vast steel center.
"Aloha," Stitch said to him.
"Oh, good afternoon," the octopus' chipper voice echoed in Stitch and Angel's heads. "Forgive me; I don't recall being told about extraterrestrial visitors. Are you from the Federation? If so, then I am at your service-"
"We want to talk, Tyr," Stitch said.
The octopus' face froze. His black eyes quivered as the rest of him sank into a more formal, rigid posture, as if some invisible force were pinning him down. Stitch and Angel became lost in his eyes for a while, watching as something therein tried to claw its way out.
"You know where to find me," the octopus' voice echoed again, sterner than before.
"Too much love will kill you,
"Just as sure as none at all,
"It'll drain the power that's in you,
"Make you plead and scream and crawl,
"And the pain will make you crazy,
"You're the victim of your crime,
"Too much love will kill you,
"Every time…"
Stitch and Angel moved on to the vast steel dome at the far edge of town.
"He's done well fixing the place up since last time," Stitch said.
"He never needed to," Angel said. "Remember?"
"Oh… Right."
They stepped towards the semi-circle door, which seemed wide enough to let a small ship through. It whirred open without so much as a word from Zorek, making way for a massive flooded airlock.
"Thank you," Stitch said as they stepped inside. "For everything."
"Of course," Angel said. "Like we said… For better or for worse, right?"
"Yeah…"
The door shut behind them. As the water began to fall, it suddenly seemed so much easier to Stitch and Angel to turn and run.
"Too much love will kill you,
"It'll make your life a lie…"
They squeezed each other's hands as tightly as they could, forcing their addled minds to bring them some happier thoughts.
They pictured their cousins' faces, projecting their reflections against the falling water and the door in front of them. They tried to remember how they used to be; they tried to remember the signs they showed that they weren't beyond hope.
"Too much love will kill you,
"And you won't understand why…"
Sparky, Felix, Kixx, Bonnie, Clyde, Slushy, Remmy, Flute, Daniel, Chopsuey, Leroy, Checkers, even the Man Who Sold the World.
They'd all had the same look in their eyes, even while they insisted on their lives that they were right.
They'd all looked sad.
"You'd give your life, you'd sell your soul,
"But here it comes again…"
The water was gone; the door began to rise open. Stitch and Angel kept their cousins' sad eyes imprinted in their vision, ready to see the same in Zorek.
"Too much love will kill you…"
They didn't find any sadness in his black eyes.
Only fear.
"In the end…"