A week ago.
The air still hung acrid with the scents of smoke, melt, and char. The night's cool breeze knocked down an occasional loose fragment from the edges of the breached hangar walls.
The Liger Zero turned its head to each sound, wary and watchful. It was lying down, forepaws outstretched and protectively encircling Bit, Vega, and their Organoids - all of who were exhausted and asleep.
The night's chill had long crept into Sara, but she hadn't moved. She'd just been watching Vega for hours now, silent. He was curled up in a fetal position, tucked tightly to the black Organoid.
After quite some time Sara cautiously approached and knelt, running her fingers through Vega's silky hair.
One stirred and Sara felt the piercing sting of its regard. Though its pitch-black optics gave no visual clues of a gaze, it was somehow obvious when it was staring. But she quickly felt the creature's rile dissipate. Sara was no threat.
She kept combing her fingers through her son's hair. The deep horror of almost losing him tightened her throat. Thoughts of his limp body and cold skin weren't going anywhere anytime soon.
One flicked the tip of its tail idly.
~He is safe with me.~
She cut a glare at the Organoid. He almost died.
One lifted its head from the floor and met Sara's eyes directly.
She couldn't help but to stumble into the depths of its mind, gently led along by something she didn't quite understand. Tantalizing and irresistible, One's beckon drew her nearer… until perception sharply narrowed and Sara found herself in the beast's tight mental grip.
A trap that she'd just blithely walked into.
There was an intense pressure without pain. She became peripherally aware of just how easily it could crush the life out of her… but it didn't, and she simply gazed in a reverie.
~Vega is safe. And so are you. You are important to him.~
One harshly released her and Sara jerked back, catching herself in a kneel.
Vega never stirred from sleep.
~For now.~
Early morning.
Leon and Steve were already in the kitchen, looking over a datapad on the counter and speaking softly to each other.
Sara approached silently from one corridor, pausing before she entered. The two men were discussing the damage to the Hover Cargo and the base, and how to best approach reconstruction. If they wanted to change anything. Cost.
She noticed Jaime sitting on a stool to one side, sipping coffee… looking directly at her, not saying a word.
It was odd to be in the company of these complete strangers she'd so thoroughly disregarded. Less than 24 hours ago she'd been indifferent to whether these people lived or died. Now - for the time being - she was more-or-less at their mercy.
Fierce pride writhed beneath reality's steely grip. The Blitz Team held all the power here. They could have turned her away. Could have refused to help her - and Vega. Could have sent her - and Vega - out into the frigid desert night. But they hadn't. Instead, she'd been invited in.
She wasn't sure how to take that, but it would do.
Leon glanced and stopped talking. Steve looked also.
"Good morning." Sara said quietly.
Leon didn't reply, but Steve did. "Morning. Need anything?"
She motioned at Jaime's coffee. Steve nodded and moved to get her some.
Sara looked back at Leon.
Every line of the young man's face and body read exhaustion and pain. The more she looked at him the more obvious it became. Leon was clearly forcing a pleasant front for his father, but when his eyes met Sara's, distrust flashed in them.
She didn't blame him. She also didn't know what injuries the extensive bandages on his hands and arms covered, but he looked the most deeply shaken of anyone in the base.
Steve handed Sara a cup of coffee and she took it with a nod. Her eyes stayed on Leon.
"So," Steve broke the exchange of stares. "What are things looking like for you and Vega?"
"Bit?"
"Mm."
"Are you awake?"
Bit lay reclined on Zero, eyes closed. He cracked an eye to glance at Vega, who'd spoken.
"Yeah. What's up."
The hangar was dark, with only thin stripes of dawn beginning to filter in. The child's eyes caught the dim light, catlike, as he peered over One's side.
"Did you see all that… stuff?"
The unusual fear in Vega's voice indicated what his vague words didn't. Their shared experience of the Zoidian apocalypse - albeit from very different viewpoints and with no real understanding.
Bit was silent for a moment.
"Yeah."
Vega searched Bit's face, hoping for more. But Bit didn't say anything else. The child's throat worked, uneasily.
"Is that real? Did that really happen?"
"I don't know. I don't want to think about it."
"But-"
"Vega." Bit sat up and glared, uncharacteristically terse. "I don't want to think about it."
"Okay, okay." Vega let his eyes drift to the floor and returned to silence, ducking back behind One.
Zero quietly waited for Bit to nod off again, before it turned a dully-glowing orange optic towards Vega.
~It did.~
The worst thing wrong with him was that he really needed to eat.
Otherwise: slightly anemic and definitely badly bruised, but amazingly, nothing was broken. The hospital staff had certainly seen much worse injuries on pilots. Having no real idea what this particular pilot had just been through, Brad was completely unremarkable.
He kept it that way.
For far too long, he simply sat in the hospital bed with tightly folded arms, staring in silence out the window of the small room. Naomi had been in and out, seeming much less worried now that the doctors had given him a decent bill of health.
He certainly didn't feel it, but refused to dwell.
The door to the room opened again. Brad looked over, expecting Naomi.
It was Bit.
They exchanged a long stare.
"Hey." Bit finally said.
Brad held eye contact a few moments longer, then looked aside. He didn't say anything.
Bit uncomfortably shifted from one leg to the other. "I just wanted to see how you're doing."
"I'm not dead." Brad replied, and glanced back at the blonde. "You?"
"I'm… not dead either." Bit confirmed.
Brad frowned. The blonde seemed out of sorts. "Really, Bit. Are you okay."
"Yeah. I am." He wasn't.
"...good." It wasn't.
Silence.
Bit didn't like the quiet, so put a hand on the bed rail. "I get why you were upset." He started. "I never-"
"Don't." Brad cut him off. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"Neither did you."
"I almost killed you." The words felt nasty to say. "Feels pretty damn wrong."
"It wasn't your fault. I get how One… is."
Brad abruptly looked away, eyes becoming red-rimmed with upset. Yes, the Fury- One -was behind everything that'd gone on. But Brad knew he'd all-too-willingly given the beast something to work with. Without the dangling threads of his own resentment, the Fury never could've gained a hold, never would have gotten anywhere. He wanted to think none of what'd happened was his fault. But the more he dwelt on it, the less certain he became.
Worse still: why did he miss the Fury so badly. Brad shut his eyes against the intense ache in his head and chest, a deep and loathsome craving. He didn't want to want the damn thing, but he did.
Having an entire internal crisis with Bit standing a foot away made everything intolerable.
Yet Brad said nothing.
The hurt in the room was stifling, near-tangible.
Really, it was no different now than what it'd been when the dust of the fight was still settling. Bit knew that the Shadow Fox had meant well, and had just been trying to protect its pilot... but Brad had needed Zero's help then, and still needed it now.
Zero apparently agreed because it suddenly appeared in the small room, ducking to accommodate the ceiling. Its massive tail bowled over a cart and adjacent chair. Concerned by this, it lifted said tail, shifted daintily, then looked back at the two men.
They both reacted with panic. Brad, out of dismay, and Bit because-
"Is everyone all right?" A nurse called from the hall, starting to open the door. "I heard-"
In one fluid motion Bit slammed the door shut and shoved a chair up under the handle. "Everything's fine! Thanks!" He shot a look at Zero and hissed. "You can't just-"
~I can.~ It replied idly, and carefully stepped towards Brad. Brad, who promptly scrambled out of the bed and put it between himself and the Organoid.
Bit dragged a hand down the side of his face; the door thumped behind him.
"Sir, please-" The nurse began.
Bit's eyes darted. "We're not- uh- decent!"
Brad squinted across the room at the blonde and mouthed 'really?'
Bit threw a massive shrug, motioning with his head at the Organoid. Zero just stared at Brad.
~I will not hurt you.~ It said simply. ~But what you feel is pain from a wound that cannot, on its own, heal. I only need you to trust me.~
Brad glanced up at the Organoid but pointedly avoided its eyes. "See, that's the thing. I don't."
~You must understand that One's opinions are… biased.~
Brad chuckled thinly, warily, and moved as Zero did, working to keep the bed between them. "No. It was right about you. And you've already fucked with me before. Get lost."
Zero rumbled a sigh. ~Things have changed. Substantially. Y-~
"Zero you can't be in here, " Bit interrupted, voice strained in a whisper. "I told you- "
~You tell me many things. No one will be aware of my presence.~ The Organoid said dismissively, gently taking the bed's rail with its teeth and moving it aside. The motion's casual strength ripped the bed from Brad's grasp, and the long-haired man was left shoving himself into a corner of the room. He tightly shut his eyes.
"Bit, please. Get it away from me."
"I c- Zero- Brad, he just wants to h-"
"Bit-"
Another rap on the door. This one sharper. Impatient. "Bit?" It was Naomi.
"Naomi, please help me." Brad said, loudly and utterly deadpan.
He didn't have to ask twice. Naomi shouldered into the room to find a chair in her way, the bed wildly askew, and Brad sunk into one corner. No Bit. Or anything else but a mess.
"Say WHAT?!"
Leon had already moved the phone away from his ear, expecting the rise.
"It's okay, Leena. Everyone is fine."
"Why didn't y- what happened?!"
Leon quietly explained prior events as he understood them, neatly excising any mentions of his injuries and the Organoids. The former because he didn't want to worry his sister, the latter because he had serious reservations about discussing the beasts openly.
It was Leena's uncharacteristic silence afterward that gave him pause.
She finally spoke. "Is dad doing okay? Do I need to come help with anything?"
Leon briefly resented Leena's concern for their father. Steve was fine. It was Leon who wasn't. He silently reminded himself that he was the one downplaying things, by necessity. And Steve's responses to stress were known to vary wildly.
"No. I'd rather you not. We've got a lot of… company, at the base."
From the shade of the Blitz hangar, One stared silently into the heat-distorted desert's distance. Just at the edges of easy viewing lay the Berserk Fury, stone and still.
Vega stood nearby, sharing his Organoid's grim regard. Sara approached both from behind, but the child cut his eyes over his shoulder before she got too close. Vega's lowered brows softened quickly.
"When are we going back?"
Sara's eyes flicked, scanning the horizon. She didn't answer for several seconds.
"I don't think we can."
"Why."
"You know why."
A hot, sandy breeze whipped at them.
Vega glared up at Sara. "You're just afraid. They have to listen to me."
"No, Vega. They don't." Sara shook her head. "And they've cut me off. I wouldn't even know where to go."
"Well, I'll find them."
"No."
"Sara-"
"No. It's not safe."
The child's eyes rolled. "Oh, now you're worried about things being safe."
Sara flashed him a dangerous look.
Vega sneered and slipped closer to One, reaching up to run his hands along the creature's face and neck. He gently scratched each juncture between its neckplates, the Organoid rumbling softly in seeming enjoyment. Sara watched her son's face reflect pure adoration.
It was a nice thing to see, but a low-level anxiety crept in.
"Everyone will be after these Organoids if they find out about them, Vega." Sara said, impassively. "Between that and Backdraft not... taking failure lightly, it's best we stay put for the time being. You're still hurt."
Vega didn't like being reminded. Though he felt much better in an abstract sense, he physically ached everywhere, especially his chest. He scowled. "We didn't fail. It just… didn't go how it was supposed to."
Sara gave a single, mirthless chuckle. "Everyone who came with me was killed, dear. The Committee has no idea what went on."
Vega glared up at Sara like she was stupid. "Then we have to tell them."
Her brow twitched. All Sara could think of was the handful of people she'd personally written out of existence with a simple command. Most of Backdraft's senior leadership were no different, willing to discard anyone or anything that endangered the Organization or its clients.
At its peak Backdraft had operatives and pilots all over the continent. Though it was clearly no longer at its peak, Sara wasn't convinced it was damaged enough to stop functioning at that level. The existence of the Organoids threw additional complications into the mix.
Sara just shook her head.
"Then I'll have to tell them." Vega snorted, and broke away from One with a beckon. "Come on."
He started walking off.
One watched Vega go for several yards, glanced at Sara, then followed idly after the child.
~Vega.~
Sand crunched with every impetuous step. "What."
~Your mother is correct.~
Vega stopped and threw his arms up, whirling to One. "Hey! No! She's not!"
~You are not yet well. And many in Backdraft liked neither of you. Taking such risk is pointless, especially when - at present - they have nothing to offer us.~
Vega blinked, and wrinkled his nose indignantly. Only one thing seemed to register: "What? Everyone liked me. Except Alteil. But he was always an ass. To Sara."
The Organoid inclined its head. ~Vega. They did not like you. They feared you. And from that fear came their respect.~
Vega's expression blanked.
One went on, voice level as always. ~Make no mistake. That respect is our right, and we will demand it. We will be able to claim all that is ours. But we must be patient.~
The harsh sun beat down on the two. At length Vega dropped his arms and shoulders, sighing, and glanced once again at the distant stone Fury.
Several days passed.
Brad had returned to his present abode, Naomi's apartment.
And it was there he took up residence on the couch, sitting near-motionlessly for hours at a time. Simply staring off into space, eyes occasionally flicking with thought. And he'd been doing that a lot.
Naomi let him be for a while, but eventually sat beside him. She ran a hand up his leg. "Hey."
He looked at her, and slid his hand up onto hers. Their fingers twined.
"You doing okay?" She said.
"Not really."
Naomi wasn't surprised, but didn't have much of a reply. She just looked the man in the face, hoping he'd elaborate. He didn't. Just met her gaze and said nothing.
"Want to talk about anything?"
"Not really."
Again, it wasn't surprising that he was being so reserved. He always had been, and that wasn't likely to change. But what was new is that he looked so lost, blue eyes weary and dull.
Naomi shifted and sat up against him, still holding his hand. "Well. Tell me what happened."
It was a command rather than a question. Brad blinked once and gently put his other arm around the woman, distantly grateful for her.
"It's... not nice."
"Never thought it was. Tell me."
He did.
Though he did leave out some parts. Like the Fury's brutal string of murders in the arena. The fewer people who knew about that, the better. It already rankled him that Zero likely knew - the damn things seemed to know everything. He just hoped Bit didn't also know, but wouldn't dare ask.
Naomi could only listen with a growing horror to the situations described. She'd figured things were bad, but Brad was relaying straight-up torture. He didn't really have a good concept of how long he'd been gone and subject to it. She did.
Backdraft simply leaving her to die suddenly seemed much less of an offense. And that was saying a lot.
Her thoughts subsided as she noticed Brad had gone quiet. She looked up at him again.
Brad shook his head. "I could've killed Bit. Leon. You."
"Well… you didn't. Everyone is okay."
He knew this, but the relentless crush of guilt blurred what lines had been crossed. He'd given the Fury an in. He'd embraced it. He'd craved it, and he still did. He'd wanted to see them all dead, and the thought made him physically ill. The sensation was quickly countered by the delight of potentially pleasing the Fury - followed by the stomach-drop of horror at even having the thought.
"You really should talk to Leon. He's been trying to get ahold of you."
"I can't. Not right now."
"He's worried."
"I'm worried." Brad snapped, but immediately withdrew, "I'm- sorry. It's just that thing is so fucked up. It's awful. But I've never wanted something so much. It was amazing. I've never felt so…" Brad trailed off.
Naomi stared at him, waiting for the rest.
He squeezed her hand a little too firmly, eyes suddenly bright. "Strong. Alive. I'd- we'd never have another care in the world. Can you imagine?"
She could not. She blinked.
"But I just wasn't good enough." Brad glanced aside, crestfallen. "I'm so sorry."
Naomi had never seen Brad look so thoroughly defeated. She didn't really think he could look this way, were she not sitting here staring at it. He clearly meant what he said, but she couldn't fathom how any of what he'd relayed or what she'd witnessed of the Berserk Fury amounted to a desirable experience.
She took her hand from his to brush the hair from beside his face. "Hey. I thought you were gone for good. You're still here. That's good enough for me."
Despite himself, Brad looked back at her and smiled a little.
"Got that goin' for me at least."
