A present for you all on Christmas. I hope you all enjoy it and have happy holidays and new year.
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Recovery was such a contradictory thing, Raiden mused to himself as he restlessly paced. In some ways beginning to feel better was so much worse than feeling like complete shit. When you were a wreck inside and out all your focus was bent towards making it for at least another hour. Another day. Another week. Each of those milestones felt like a hard won victory. But once you reached a certain point in recovery it seemed that the improvements started to come slower and slower until there were none at all. All the while on the inside you still expected that continuous string of victories and the lack of forward progress would began to chafe.
Improving from that wretched state he had been reduced to felt akin to surviving a storm at sea that should have sent the ship and her crew below the dark waves. Once the joy of seeing the sun return wore off, the realization that there would be a long arduous row back to port in a damaged ship had set in. While Raiden was no longer metaphorically treading water, to his immense frustration there still seemed to be no land in sight.
Walking came naturally to him but for some reason running without intense concentration still eluded him. His hands seemingly obeyed precisely without issue, the cybernetics carrying out his will with mechanical precision. However whenever he became distracted they slipped up and fumbled, like a puppy causing mischief whenever its handler would turn away just for a moment. Raiden found that his memory and focus were blessedly restored to him. Mostly. But the thrice damned drowsiness plagued him still. He felt like an old man, waking up from unexpected naps whenever he would settle for too long with a blanket thrown over him courtesy of John or Wolf.
He felt like his recovery had plateaued. The man yearned to push himself more, knowing full well what he was capable of doing, but there was no way to strive towards those goals stuck here in these rooms as he was.
Raiden wandered aimlessly, possessing a body and yet somehow still feeling like he were trapped within his own mind. The apartment they lived in was comfortable enough and he and John had settled in fairly well. The man knew that they were confined here for their own good, but couldn't help the feeling that he had been moved from one form of captivity to the next.
John ignored his back and forth stalking, being well used to it at this point. Normally the boy wouldn't be up this early, having the teenage predilection to rising late. He could almost hear Rose scolding him for not setting and enforcing a proper bedtime for the boy. It was fairly early on a bright Sunday morning and they were both already fed, dressed, and waiting. Today was supposed to be another one of their trips to the gym. Unfortunately the final call from Boris with the go ahead had yet to come through.
The teen was currently engrossed in one of the more difficult video game selections for the past hour while they waited and was making exceedingly little progress in it. Wolf lay on the floor in front of the couch, occasionally offering well meaning, if ultimately unhelpful advice on the game, frustrating the boy. The both of them ignored Raiden's presence as he passed them once more in his restlessness.
The man mentally checked the time once again as he completed yet another circuit and turned back. The planned outing was turning out to be more and more unlikely as two days ago Boris and his team had been called out of the states to take care of an urgent mission that had popped up.
Raiden hadn't been informed on what the mission entailed nor had he asked. It stung somewhat being left out of the loop but he understood. After all, he had walked away first, even if it had been to keep Maverick's name from being sullied with his actions. While he was once an integral part of the team, now Raiden was just another client to be protected.
It was funny in an ironic way. He had been set on breaking away from Maverick all those years ago because he felt that he was getting too entrenched with the group. Now that he was separate the exclusion actually managed to hurt a little. A classic case of be careful what you wish for.
The notification of a call incoming halted Raiden in his tracks. Seeing that the call was from Boris, he accepted the call instantly.
"Hey Boris." Raiden greeted the older man, trying to kept his voice casual. Both John and Wolf's head immediately popped up from over the top of the couch.
"Many apologies for the delay Raiden. I did not mean to keep you waiting for so long." The older man's voice held none of the tension that it usually held when on difficult missions. Apparently it was not such a dire emergency after all.
"Are we going? Are we?" John whispered loudly, the teen climbed atop of the couch listening in with eager intensity. Raiden held up a finger for him to wait and pressed a hand to his ear to hear the call better.
"It's ok. You've got more important things to worry about than organizing field trips. I'm actually surprised you called."
"I said I would, did I not? Besides getting out is important for your recovery." Boris said in that sometimes maddeningly cheery way of his.
"So we still on for today? 'Cause I gotta say, I'm about to start climbing the walls here." Raiden confessed, not bothering to hide the desperation in his voice. This earned a hearty laugh from the older man.
"Yes tovarich, yes. Things are ready now. Soon your guard will be by to escort you down to gym." Raiden gave John a nod who then vaulted over the back of the couch running for his small room and his shoes that still lay inside.
"Good to hear. Hopefully things will break and there will be a change of pace soon?" Raiden none to subtly tried to fish for information.
"Soon my friend, but that is for me to worry about. I will speak more with you on that subject when I return. I'm afraid I must go now. I will be out of contact for several hours."
Initially when Boris had proposed the idea of a safe house Raiden had reflexively balked at it. The idea of being tucked away in yet another small forgotten part of the world was naturally not something that appealed to him all things considering. Also the prospect that he needed to be carefully looked after like some client with a delicate constitution rankled.
Raiden soon accepted the wisdom of the action as he knew that it was not just him at stake. John had to be protected along with him and there was also the hope that Rose would soon be found alive and well to join them. The thought of the three of them together again under one roof would turn being hidden away from the world from bitter to sweet.
If only there were some word of her.
"Stay safe." Raiden tried to keep the downturn of his mood out of his voice.
"And you as well." Boris responded with a little more meaning than simply parting words as if he knew the other man's mood anyway. Then again the sly old bear always did have a way at reading him.
The call ended as John darted back into the living room with shoes on, realized that he forgot to put on socks, and darted back to his room. Raiden chuckled and finally sat down to wait for their escort. Thankfully for the sake of his already frayed sanity it was a fairly short wait.
Wolf led the way down the halls, the first to encounter trouble should it arise. John was talking animatedly with Trent a few paces ahead of Raiden. The two were exchanging stories of mischief making. John, having long learned that there was no hard feelings being held about the ketchup incident, seemed hellbent on befriending the man. That was all Rose in the boy right there. Raiden preferred to keep people at a distance but if Rose met a stranger they didn't stay a stranger for long.
It was nice in a bittersweet kind of way, to still see traces of her around even if she was not present.
It was a tight squeeze with the two men, teen, and a large autonomous AI all in one elevator. In his small space in the corner John was practically bouncing with hardly contained energy. Raiden was surprised that the boy was doing as well as he was in his current circumstances. With having all the energy of a fourteen year old boy being cooped up in those small rooms for nearly a month with his recovering father, it was a wonder that John hadn't gone crazy as well.
When they reached the gym Wolf was only all too happy to match John's energy as they both took off across the spacious room the very moment it was cleared. Raiden watched the pair with no small twinge of envy at the ease at which they took off running, then at his more moderate pace began to practice getting used to seamlessly commanding a cybernetic body once more.
Against an imaginary opponent the man worked through some CQC. As he settled into the training, the motions to cause harm and death came more naturally than anything else he had attempted so far. It was a laughable irony that it seemed that he had no trouble performing his old combat training but struggled to recall how to live and function like a normal individual. But he had never been a normal individual though, had he?
Raiden fell out of stance, suddenly no longer interested in practicing combat basics. He began to wonder why he was even running through the motions at all. He was tired of fighting. Of struggling. Of bloodshed. Raiden was just tired in general. The weight of the uncertain future and the struggles looming overhead filled him with a bone deep weariness. For the first time in weeks he felt that old familiar call of the void beckoning him to just let go and stop thinking and come back to the nothingness.
He violently shook his thoughts from the mental lethargy and scolded himself to keep trying. For John, for those here at Maverick trying so hard for him, and for all those children that sent him the colorful cards.
Pressing forward, Raiden eyed his secluded little area for any others observing him. He wondered if he could attempt to practice some of his old acrobatic maneuvers without too many eyes on him when he inevitably fell and ate shit. He may have not been an overly prideful person but still he had more than enough of humiliation over the past few weeks.
Years, really.
The sounds of his boy and Wolf playing distracted him. The pair of them had found one of the practice mats and Wolf was pulling it along with his tail as he lightly ran about while John lay on top of it trying to keep hold through his laughing and the occasionally sharp turns. Seeing as how the two had the rest of the room well entertained, he took the opportunity to practice unobserved.
Raiden, from what admittedly little he could remember of that time, had been practicing acrobatics even before Solidus had taken him under his tender wing. The distant memory of his mother fretting that he was going to break his neck hazily came to mind. Well the reinforced metal that made up his spine now was under no threat from his attempt so he went for it.
The old familiar motions of winding up came back to him as if they never left. It was the rest of the motion that he had issue with, only barely avoiding landing on his head. It was not the action itself that had him faltering when he was upside down at the apex of the maneuver, it was a glimpse of dark hair and a familiar scarred face through the glass of the gym doors that distracted him.
As soon as he had landed Raiden whirled around to face the doors to see if he saw what he thought he did. There was no face on the other side of the glass watching him, but he could have swore that there was a fleeting movement to get out of sight that spoke of danger and vague familiarity. Without thinking his actions through, he marched up to the doors and pulled them open.
His first thought upon looking out into the hall was that the hallucinations were back.
Locked in that basement Raiden's mind had seemed hell bent on adding to the torment he was put through. Visions of rescue from imaginary saviors. The pleading of those close to him for a response when he had no way to do so. Many times during that long darkness he saw the faces and heard the curses of all those whose lives he had taken. Those angry faces were the worst, their rage clear through the blood and decay.
The hallucination of the dead man he was looking at here and now was not enraged. In fact he seemed immensely amused by Raiden's stunned reaction.
Several blinks and a quick systems check to see if something had gone awry later and the sight still remained before him, smirking even more boldly now. Standing before him with no armor yet with sword still sheathed at his side, was Raiden's formerly deceased opponent: Jetstream Sam.
"Surprise." Sam said brightly, going as far as to wave his hands in the air for mock emphasis.
Raiden took a step back trying to process the shock. The man before him, who was clearly not dead, crossed his arms and leaned against the wall enjoying the reaction he was receiving. Unless there was something seriously wrong with his memory, the last time Raiden saw the man he was lying dead in the dirt. Now he was standing there in faded jeans and a black sleeveless top wearing that same insufferable smirk.
"Now that the cat is out of the bag, let us get one thing straight. If Boris asks, this is all your fault." Sam said jabbing a metal finger his direction. It was the last thing Raiden expected to come out of his mouth and his confusion kept any reply from being born. "I know that he told me to keep my distance when you arrived and was otherwise, ah, indisposed. But you are the one who found me, not the other way around. I kept my word but you caught me. Oh well." The insincerity practically dripped from the man.
"...How?" Raiden eventually forced the words to come out. The man before him seemed to take great amusement in Raiden's reactions.
"You don't honestly expect me to answer that truthfully, do you?" At the complete lack of reply Sam sighed dramatically and continued on. "Lets just say you half-assed the job. Very amateur quality of you. Thankfully the Doktor was able to fix what you broke during our little match. Don't you think that you will get lucky with that move a second time."
Raiden's first thought was that Sam was here to finish what they had started years ago. He knew that he was currently no match for his old foe but his thoughts were less focused on his own safety but that of John's. A quick glance revealed that the boy was still fine and well but was curiously approaching. Raiden knew that Bladewolf and Sam had some sort of rapport together but he sincerely hoped that the AI would step in to get his son to safety and then come see if there was anything left of Raiden to help.
Once that initial flash of alarm faded as no attack was forthcoming Raiden took in the words that were just said to him. 'What? The Doktor?' The cobwebs cluttering up his mind seemed to stick to his thoughts and slow them down even further.
Sam remained leaning causally against the wall, seemingly at ease and with no intent to fight. The breezy manner he carried himself suggested high spirits rather than ill intent, but given what he knew of the man that was not saying anything. It took him a moment to recognize it but Raiden saw that Sam was in possession of the Murasama once more. The red and black motif of Desperado was replaced with a more traditional silver and black, no doubt a return to the weapons traditional colors.
The last time Raiden had seen that particular weapon was when he returned it to Wolf's possession during their flight back from Pakistan. It was still sheathed although Raiden knew first hand that did not mean that the man was any less dangerous. Memories of being grabbed by the face and slammed down onto the ground replayed quite vividly in his minds eye.
He also happened to notice the employee ID clipped onto a belt loop of Sam's pants.
The truth before him was blatantly obvious but Raiden had immense difficulty reconciling the facts in front of him with previous experiences. The references to Doktor and Boris, the ID...there was no way Boris had taken this bastard onto the team.
"You can't be serious." Raiden muttered in disbelief, shock fading off into something far more acidic. The sour look on his face only seemed to entertain the taller man before him. "Why the hell are you here?" He snapped out.
"Short answer is that I am paying off a debt." Sam replied with unexpected sincerity. "After our fight and the fall of World Marshal there were precious few places I could go for some much needed cybernetic work. Why I stayed is another question entirely." He said with a significant look. Raiden's displeasure only deepened.
"Is it a fight you're wanting? Well you're out of luck." Raiden felt that he could hardly function as it was, much less manage a fight on Sam's level. If the other man insisted on combat it would be a short match.
"What? And leave business unfinished between us? Where is the fun in that?" Sam threw his arms up, laughing. "No no no no, we are not through. We have to have our rematch. I won the first round, you won the second. Our next fight should settle things, yes?"
"I'm not interested." Raiden stated again, far more coldly this time. He was not about to play the other man's games this time around.
"Denying your purpose again? And after you had made such excellent progress in realizing those truths about yourself." Sam tisked several times in disappointment. "What a shame. Then again you may yet change your mind seeing as how you are not your, ah, best at this point in time. I did not mean to imply that we are to do this right now."
The clink of metal on the floors announced Wolf's approach and an indignant "Hey!" told of John's arrival as well. Raiden wanted to snap at the both of them, John for approaching and Wolf for letting his son come near such a threat. But no, Wolf did not see Sam that way now did he?
"Dad." John tugged insistently at his sleeve, edging behind him nervously. At least John recalled his lessons and knew a dangerous individual when he saw one. "That's him. Remember how I was telling you about being kidnapped? That's the guy."
"For your information it was a retrieval, not a kidnapping. I was under orders to bring you in." Sam huffed in a way that suggested that he had insisted such numerous times before.
"You didn't have to send creeper texts!" John threw out at him then tucked back behind Raiden's back.
"I frightened you. You stabbed me. We're even."
"Why would they send you to pick up my son?" Honestly Raiden wished Boris was around so he could yell at the man. Could he in no way have seen how sending someone who had every reason to have a grudge against him to be in charge of his son's protection could go wrong? It could have ended so badly. The thought chilled Raiden so thoroughly that he nearly missed Sam's next words.
"Well considering the mess that you got yourself into it was uncertain what opposition would be faced. Especially since it was known that we were coming. Maverick wanted to send its best bodyguard for the child."
"Bullshit." Raiden did not deny that the man was skilled. But he could not view the former member of the Winds of Destruction hell bent on death through the same lens as a protector. The hypocrisy was a pill he chose to choke on rather than to swallow.
"It is true. Sam has been a trusted employee at Maverick for several years now." Wolf said in his robotic monotone, none too subtly sitting down between the two men. "He has managed many missions successfully."
"Ever since you decided to take off to parts unknown for your little vigilante stint Boris needed someone to handle the big jobs. Business has been good seeing as how I'm a more a cost effective option." Sam wore that insufferable grin that was for the sole purpose on incensing others.
Raiden wanted to get angry, he really did. The memories of their previous clashes, sparring with both word and blade flashed through his mind. Also in those memories there was a good man Raiden had swore to avenge. While Sam had not landed the killing blow to N'Mani it was in part due to his actions that the world was deprived on one of its very few genuinely good people. A politician that wanted to help their people instead of use them. Raiden would never forgive himself for being unable to save the man.
But no matter what feelings all of these memories kicked up there was not enough left in him for true anger. It was as if someone had threw a spark on the kindling but did not lay down enough fuel for the flames to catch hold on. Raiden wanted to be furious at the prodding but the bone deep weariness that hung about him did not allow for anything more than a brief flash of irritation that left only sooty embers in its wake.
He couldn't deal with this right now.
"We're leaving." Raiden announced to John, steering the teen by the shoulder towards the elevators. There was a protesting "Hey" from the formerly dead man but Raiden paid him no attention. John let himself be led without objection, no doubt slightly cowed by the increasingly electrified atmosphere when it was supposed to be a simple trip to the gym.
Raiden did not need his enhanced hearing to know that Sam was following after them. While he may not have managed to become properly angry, Raiden did manage to feel plenty of betrayed and bitter. What the hell had Boris been thinking taking on someone like Sam? Raiden knew his type, living only for the fight. Did Boris think he would manage to hold onto the leash tightly enough not to get bit? The fact that Raiden had also disappointed the man, that he was also cut from a blood soaked cloth, did not escape him.
Raiden had little mind to marvel at how unusually steadily he walked as he marched towards the elevators. John was glued to his side, shooting glances back to those following them. The clicking of metal against the floors grew louder as Wolf approached the retreating pair. Before the machine had a chance to speak Raiden struck first.
"You knew about this." The clipped words were a statement, not a question. The return of the sword was the smoking gun here.
"I did. I knew from the beginning. I apologize for the deception. There were bigger things at stake at the time." Wolf glanced up at him briefly then lowered his head at the man's thunderous expression. Raiden furrowed his brows in brief confusion at the odd phrasing of the statement. Bigger things at stake? Then the memory struck him, Wolf's declaration that Sam was dead back in the Badlands.
"You lied to me." Raiden bit out, but then had to yield to Wolf's point. "I get that you didn't want me distracted then, but later? You couldn't have said anything this past month?" Raiden snapped, casting a glance down at the machine. From the corner of his eye he spotted Sam easily following along a few paces back. Beyond that followed an extremely distressed Trent, texting away furiously on his phone.
"I was under orders from Boris to not speak of such matters."
"When did you decide you wanted to be somebody's lap dog?" Raiden hit the button for the elevators with a little more force than was necessary, nearly cracking the plastic. Fortunately the doors slid open without hesitation. John immediately slunk inside, silently watching the tense exchange from the far corner. Raiden waited for an answer before he stepped on as well.
"I was told it was for your own good. That unnecessary stress would prove to be detrimental to your recovery." The AI continued to present his case.
"You, Doktor, Boris, all the others. Everyone is always deciding for me what 'my own good' is. I'm sick of it." Raiden stepped on the elevator, reaching over to press the appropriate floor only to find that John had already done it. Wolf made to follow but stopped at Raiden's upheld hand.
"I only had your well being in mind." Drooping his head, Wolf backed away looking as contrite as blade covered autonomous machine designed for death could look. That brief flare of anger burned away as quickly as it had blazed forth, taking with it the heat but leaving behind the pain of being burnt its wake. Raiden sighed running a hand through his hair.
"I know that. I know you did Wolf. Just...gimme some space today, yeah?"
Wolf quietly nodded, sitting back on his haunches as the elevator doors began to slide close. They had nearly sealed the two occupants away from the situation in the hall when a shining metal hand forced its way in causing the doors to slowly reopen.
"Ah, nearly missed it." Sam chuckled with faux relief as he slid in the one elevator on Earth that he was the most unwelcome in. "You know, you could have waited for me. It's not wise to wonder off alone. I am one of your guards after all."
Several responses formed and died within him, no words actually managing to make it past his lips. Raiden kept his eyes strictly on the slowly closing doors in front of him in favor of ignoring the taller man. The dully reflective surface mockingly cast the sight he was trying to avoid right before him.
The atmosphere in the elevator was so thick a HF blade would be hard pressed to cut through it. John looked like he was trying to melt through the metal in the corner and disappear. Sam stood at an angle so he could observe the other two occupants. The shortened nails of his flesh hand tapping out a rhythm against the metal side of his crossed arms. Raiden continued to stare dully ahead, in no mood or state of mind to deal with this situation at the moment.
"You've really got nothing to say after all this time?" Sam tilted his head curiously. "No questions, no comments? Just going to pretend I don't exist? That I'm still dead?"
"That's the idea." Raiden said flatly.
With an exasperated sigh Sam pushed away from the wall and stepped forward. As Sam moved Raiden immediatly shifted to put himself firmly between the other man and John. Despite his weariness and apathy, Raiden was now really second guessing himself about allowing John and himself to be cornered in a small area by a man who had repeatedly tried to kill him, Boris' endorsement not withstanding.
Luckily the only aggression that Sam displayed was towards the button that brought the elevator to an abrupt halt. The small space bathed in the yellowed safety lights only added to the rising tension of the situation. Sam turned to face him squarely with some hidden emotion but said nothing.
Raiden frostily returned the look searching for any clue as to what the other man wanted. Raiden was jostled slightly as John squirmed and pushed his way past where he had been protectively covered to watch the exchange. The crackling of the intercom broke the silence.
"Is everything alright? Is assistance required?" A woman's voice inquired over the speakers.
"There is no trouble. Many apologies for the inconvenience." The charm Sam filled his voice with was at odds with the carefully neutral expression he wore. Raiden was beginning to wish that he had let this be hashed out in the halls outside of the gym rather than this claustrophobic metal box.
"Sir, if there is no issue then…"
"This is agent Rodriguez. There is no trouble and thank you." The polite tone was still there yet the words had all the give of iron.
"Yes sir." The woman yielded at once at the dismissal and the intercom crackled then shut off.
"Big shot around here?" Raiden asked, voice as dry as the desert that they had fought in. His earlier musings on the sting of the Maverick crew leaving him behind was only deepened by the fact that he had been so thoroughly replaced.
"Rumor spreads fast as you well know, and lets say I've made quite the impression here." Sam shrugged unabashedly. The other man stepped back slightly as to not crowd the pair. Raiden felt a wisp of gratitude for the display of non hostility. It would be more substantial gesture if Sam were still not close enough to block the elevator controls should anyone try to go for the buttons.
"What do you want?" Raiden asked after the silence had stretched on obscenely long.
"First off, a slight confession." Sam flicked a few stray hairs out of his face. "Despite my joking earlier I intended for you to find me this day."
"Yeah I figured." Raiden said darkly. "You've been lurking about without me knowing this long, if you wanted it to stay that way I wouldn't have known. Why? Why now?"
"Boris, as I have come to learn over these past few years, is a good man. I know Maverick was founded on security but even so he tends to be a bit too overprotective at times. A man like you does not need to be coddled. As for the Doktor, he will only ever see those around him as patients or potential patients. That is simply who he is. But look at you now." Sam gestured towards Raiden up and down. "You are in charge of your own recovery now. A patient no longer."
"The Dok might disagree with you on that one." The self depreciation was poorly contained. Sam paid his protest little mind.
"This is why I intended for you to find me this day. Because I knew you could handle it. A recovering warrior does not need to smothered in well wishes, he needs space to find his strength again."
Each word the scarred man threw at him struck a little too close to home. Raiden's feelings of confinement, his weary ire at having everyone fret and nag over his health. Between doing nothing but pace around all day and constantly being reminded of what he could no longer do, Raiden was starting not to recognize himself anymore.
He could not stop himself before he turned away from both the words and the piercing brown eyes.
"Space isn't exactly something I have an abundance of right now." Even his damn voice was as subdued as he had been these long weeks.
"The reason I have stayed here at Maverick after my debt has been repaid is because there is only one I know of who can provide what I seek." Sam spoke with none of the careless mockery that Raiden had come to know him for. This was said in complete serious sincerity. "That one is you."
Raiden could not stop the laugh before it escaped him. The last thing in the world he needed was someone else after him. He didn't know if this was a come-on or a vow of vengeance or anything else in between, but this was not something he needed right now.
"Me?" Contempt poured forth from that single syllable. At this point Raiden didn't know for who such scorn was directed toward. "How disappointed you must be." Raiden tried to reach for the control panel, anything to escape this conversation, but Sam was one step ahead of him blocking it. The two men stared each other down. Nearly forgotten, John timidly shuffled to the other side of the elevator away from the rapidly heating tension.
"This?" Sam jabbed a finger towards Raiden's head, narrowly avoiding being swatted as he withdrew the offending digit. "This is temporary. Yes, you're fucked up. Who isn't? But I know your type. I know you. What was done to you won't keep you down for long."
"I really don't care what you think Sam. Whatever it is you want leave me out of it. Leave me alone." Raiden tried for the buttons once more. He barely managed to get a finger on the correct button before a cold metal hand locked around his wrist and forcefully pried his hand away.
Sam released him the moment Raiden began to pull back. He very nearly threw a punch at being grabbed like that but quickly smothered down the impulse. Any attempt at fighting would be pathetically pointless. Apparently Sam was not short on audacity this day as he took a step forward and leaned in close to his face.
"You are doing it again. Getting so caught up in your own head that you fail to take other perspectives in consideration." Sam searched his face looking hard for whatever it was that he wanted. Raiden kept his face stone cold even as he internally bristled at someone so close. "Or perhaps I have been mistaken. Perhaps you enjoy being treated as an invalid. Everyone hovering over your every step, fretting over every move. How that must hurt your pride. A masochist like you must love it."
"Fuck off!" Raiden growled out finally snapping and pushing Sam away from himself as hard as he could. In the corner John flinched at the sudden action. There was nowhere near the strength in this body that he was used to wielding. The fact that Sam let himself be knocked back into the silvery doors stunk of mockery and pity.
The almost delighted grin on the samurai's face did not help matters in the slightest. Some of that anger that previously could not hold a spark began to burn hot in spite of apathy's attempts to smother it.
"At least you have some spirit left in you. Not a total loss." It was the cheerful delivery, as if this were all a game to him was what finally fanned the flames of Raiden's temper back to life.
"Whatever happened between us is over and done with. Whatever it is you want from me I don't know and I don't care. My problem with you is not because of what you've done to me but to others. Because of you a good man died. He was better than all of us and deserved more than what he got."
"Ah you mean back in Africa, oh what was his name…" Sam began snapping fingers as he thought. Raiden didn't know if it was an honest gesture or one designed to rile him up. The end result was the same either way.
"Someone like you doesn't deserve to know it." Raiden practically spat at him. "You chose to throw your lot in with Desperado and follow their insane leader. They were against everything he stood for. He was probably just in the way while you waited for a fight with me."
"I probably saved your life." Sam bit back at him with a frown that was starting to show the beginnings of anger. That was unexpected. Which words hit home? "You and your outdated cybernetics would have stood no chance against Sundowner."
Raiden was seething too much to stop now. Taking his opening at Sam's shift in mood, Raiden was the one to step in close this time and continue his verbal assault.
"And those kids! Did you know what they were doing with them? Or did you stand back and let that happen too? Now you have the audacity to come work with Maverick? You're just a mad dog that goes looking for fights. Is that why you're here? Your old master is gone so you needed someone else to hold your leash and give you a purpose?"
The atmosphere in that small metal box had seemed to be getting progressively hotter as tempers flared and heated words were thrown back and forth. Now with that last verbal jab thrown the temperature seemed to plummet into positively arctic territory.
"You're one to talk about having a purpose for fighting, Jack the Ripper." For the first time since laying eyes on the man, Raiden was now seeing what a truly angry Samuel Rodriguez looked like. The hissed words and narrowed eyes held all the promise of steel being drawn. "Between the two of us it's you that needs put on a leash."
Eyes never leaving his, Sam switched the elevator back in motion and stepped back. John quickly scurried back over to the other side of the small area away from the angry Brazilian. Raiden had plenty more to say to the man but did not dare pursue the conversation any further.
Some of the things said had certainly not been meant for John's ears. Some of those things he never wanted the boy to know at all. That detestable nickname, his relationship with pain…Raiden was relived that more of his history he had been trying to hide from his son had not be revealed. He hoped that the teen had been too intimidated by the situation to truly take in what was being said. Barring that, he hoped that John only took it as barbs and jabs rather than cold truths.
Even without drawing his sword Sam had managed to cut through him once again.
Never had a ride up an elevator seemed so long. With every floor they ascended the tension seemed to fold in on itself and become more concentrated in the lingering heat of their exchange, like a blade being tempered by a master. Raiden knew that it was only the presence of John with them that kept the encounter from becoming truly nasty. Despite how he felt about the man, Sam had earned the smallest sliver of redemption in his eyes for being mindful of the teens presence and not escalating.
Raiden had to lunge forward and catch John to pull him back in the boy's haste to exit the uncomfortable situation as the elevator reached its destination and the doors slid open. His son looked up at him in confusion but then remembered the usual protocol for when they were being escorted. Sam stepped out first, looking about like the guard that he claimed to be. He nodded and led the way leaving John and Raiden to silently follow.
Oddly enough the return to the rooms was far less tense than the ride up. Perhaps it was a more open space. Or it could be that they were falling into the familiar routine that other guards had carried out helped deescalate the situation somewhat. The tight set of Sam's shoulders said that the feeling was not mutual yet but he remained vigilant against any potential threat regardless.
As the three of them turned the corner a figure came into view down the hallway. Standing by the doors to their rooms Trent looked upon the group with relief, slipping his phone back into his pocket. Seeing the angry faces and tense postures Raiden's silver haired old comrade had the good sense not to address the situation or even acknowledge it existed at all.
"Gonna go clear the rooms." He murmured as they approached and he ducked into the small apartment ahead. As the older man disappeared inside the three waited outside, air thick between them.
Sam crossed his arms and leaned against the far wall with eyes closed and brows furrowed in thought. John became suddenly and deeply interested with the skin around his fingernails, forgoing looking up at anything in favor of his hands. Despite his feigned inattention, the teen remained glued to Raiden's side. As for Raiden himself, he chose to lean against the wall with eyes fixed on the floor unconsciously mirroring Sam's pose.
'I just wanted a day to finally get out and it all goes to hell. Figures.' Raiden could not help but let out a sigh at the poor luck. The more he thought about it, despite the anger at Sam's prodding and the lingering feelings of betrayal from Boris and Wolf, Raiden was surprised to realize that he felt more like his old self now more than ever since waking. Rose could surely tell him the psych behind it if only she were here.
The door slid open pulling Raiden from his confused thoughts.
"All clear." Trent said before slipping back inside and out of the line of fire.
"Go on." Raiden nudged at John. "I'll be in there in a moment." The boy looked up at him with uncertain eyes before pulling away.
"Ok Dad." Before slipping inside John looked at Sam one last time who gave the boy what would have been a cheerful wave had the smile reached his eyes. The door slowly closed leaving the two of them alone standing on opposite sides of the hall.
Tired of these back and forth jabs between them, or just simply growing tired, Raiden took the initiative and decided to strike at the heart of the matter.
"That rematch you want, forget it. You won. You're the better swordsman. Happy now?"
"No." Sam said looking up from the subtle patterns on the tile floor to meet his eyes. "Giving up without a fight? I thought I knew you better."
"You don't know me." Came the blunt retort. "And I can't afford to lose right now. Not with John. So I forfeit." Raiden held his hands up in surrender for emphasis.
"Worry for your son never stopped you from fighting before." Sam quirked an eyebrow, skepticism clear as day.
"Yeah well now…" Raiden glanced down and away as he struggled to say the words. "Now I might be the only parent he has left." Despite what Sam had implied earlier, emotional pain still was something he would rather avoid and that confession was enough to rend at his heart. "As things are looking now, my fighting days are over. He comes first." There was a certain numbness in that confession. Raiden couldn't tell if it were a cold ache at the loss a core part of himself or an acknowledgment that Rose might not be coming back.
Sam looked at the locked door for a moment, seemingly lost in a memory then pushed away from the wall. He passed Raiden without a glance nor word but after a few paces he slowed then stopped.
"A rematch would have been fun, but not why I have waited years for your return." Sam said quietly, still looking steadfastly ahead and not at the other man.
"Then what is it Sam? What the hell do you want from me?" Raiden sighed rubbing at his eyes. With the threat of a fight gone, that weariness that he had been battling with returned with a vengeance. He just wanted this conversation to be over with so he could go lock himself in his room for a few hours.
Lowering his hand once more Raiden looked up to see Sam watching at him with almost...a sad expression. Raiden was taken aback by the unexpected display of emotion.
"I stayed with Maverick because I was wanting to ask you something, but I think I already have my answers." With those parting words over his shoulder, Sam walked away without another look back.
-0-0-0-
Thankfully there was no one else around for Sam to encounter this early on a Sunday morning. He was not sure if he could deal with talking to anyone else at the moment. Reentering the elevator that he had just left minuets prior, the man pressed the ground floor button with a knuckle.
The contraption descended far too slowly, leaving too much time for him to stand there and stew in the whirlwind of thoughts. They were many and each one cut at him one after another.
The bitter disappointment threatening to choke him was no one's fault but his own, Sam decided. He knew that Raiden was still not himself yet he still had pressed the encounter. In his impatience he had made a mess of the whole business. Not only had a want several years in the making had been dashed with his foolish actions, he had no doubt had damaged Boris' trust in him as well.
Sam lashed out before he had a chance to reign in the impulse. Flesh and bone fingers impacted the metal doors with a sound that was nearly deafening in the confined area. Deciding his knuckles didn't hurt enough from the initial strike, Sam punched the door again. And again.
"Your old master is gone so you needed someone else to hold your leash and give you a purpose?"
Oh if only Raiden knew how true he struck with those words. Sam's failure haunted him. His convictions had not been enough for victory, his strength had not been enough. Lost, he had let others guide him. He had obediently walked down the kind of roads that he had once waged war against others for taking. Led on a leash like the dog Raiden had accused him of being.
Once again Sam found himself looking towards the man that had defeated him for guidance and purpose.
Sam felt rather the fool as he rested his head against the cold metal of the doors, knuckles aching pleasantly. He had put so much stock in using the strength of Raiden's convictions as a means of repairing his own that he had been unprepared to see the man so broken looking. He had done his best to goad him. To tease and taunt trying to stoke some of that fire that he knew was lurking in there. But just like Sam himself, Raiden was not who he was years ago.
But it was more than just that. More than just the disappointment of a foolish notion that had built up over the years unchecked. Once more Blondie had run him right through, only this time he hadn't meant to do it.
"Now I might be the only parent he has left."
The elevator doors had not fully opened before Sam had slipped past them. He paid no heed to where his feet were carrying him. No matter how quickly he walked, he couldn't escape his frustration or the once peaceful but now smothering atmosphere at Maverick.
Sam never had a chance to know his mother. She had died when he was far too young to form such memories. It had always just been his father and himself living in the floor above the school his father ran. Sam had been learning swordsmanship before he could even speak properly. An unusual childhood to be certain but he had been happy.
As a child he had no way of knowing that the small martial arts school was not enough to keep the both of them sheltered and fed. Sam had no idea about the people his father had involved himself in just to get them by. As he grew older he became curious about the frequent trips his father would make.
"Again you are leaving? But you just got back!" A much younger and innocent Sam had protested with a stomped foot that was intended to be intimidating. All it succeeded in accomplishing was making his fathers eyes crinkle at the corners in amusement. The man still had his eyes closed from where he knelt meditating in the shade but answered him all the same.
"Things do not often work out in the way or time we expect them to. Therefore it is always wise to keep an eye out for opportunity because you never know when or how it may arise." His father had finally opened his eyes and looked to the upset child pouting before him.
"You had just taken an opportunity to test your blade last week. Surely it needs a nap by now? You are good enough without having to leave again." Young Sam had tried to encourage and cajole, anything to keep another going away trip from happening. The school always became so lonely when it was just him alone.
His father gestured to the ground before him, encouraging the boy to kneel as well. Sam had sullenly sunk into a pose that mirrored his father, head bowed in respect for his parent and sensei. He had looked up when a calloused hand rested lightly on his shoulder.
"A true master knows that one is never truly through learning. To study the blade is a lifelong commitment. Once cannot deny an opportunity to test ones blade without denying the blades spirit itself. You will understand one day. Do not make such a face, I will be back before you know it."
What would Sam's life be like, he wondered again now as often did at his lowest points, if his father had decided to deny his weapon in favor of his son? Where would they be if they had left the school and his fathers shady employers and had gone to start a farm or some other peaceful walk of life? Would they still be together or would his father's darker past had caught up with him in the end?
It was pointless speculation that Sam usually avoided as it did nothing but pick at long healed scars. Now the old wounds in his soul were left aching after that failed exchanged. Not only had Jack lost his own way, it seemed that he had no intention of finding it again for the sake of his son. Sam sincerely wished that for John's sake, things would work out better for him and his father than Sam's own story had.
The cool air of the parking garage greeted Sam, a soothing contrast to the heated turmoil within. He did not recall deciding to head here but his feet had seemed to make the decision for him as he was too preoccupied in his thoughts to pay attention to such unimportant matters. Now that he was standing amidst the concrete and oil stains, Sam realized that he needed to get out of this place.
Taking back control of where he was going, Sam made his way towards the out of the way corner which held his bike. While the promise to Boris weighed heavy on his mind, Sam knew that he could not be at this place any longer. He needed to get away from this building and friendly people making him soft. He needed to get away from a leader making the decisions for him and telling him what to do and who to fight. He needed to get away from the shell of a man that Sam had so badly hoped would help guide him back on his path once more.
He wanted to be angry. Sam wanted to rage against the irony of waiting all of these years only to be disappointed. He wanted to curse Jack for seemingly losing his convictions and falling astray from his way as well. But he couldn't. There was no one to blame but himself. He had been blaming himself for much these past few years, what was a little more?
Keys right where he had left them, Sam started up the machine and made towards the exit. He maneuvered around a van pulling in, causing the vehicle to hit its breaks at the near collision. He had no destination in mind, no idea where he was headed or for how long. All he knew was that he wanted space and clarity of mind. Perhaps out on the road he would be able to gain the illusion of both.
Had Sam not been in such a hurry to flee Maverick and his troubled thoughts he might have spared the unfamiliar vehicle a second glance but as things stood he only had eyes for road and the horizon beyond.
.
Authors notes: A little bit of a cliff hanger for you all to hold on to next year. Got some fun chapters coming up that I can't wait to write. The entire time we were going over this chapter my Beta kept quoting TFS's Krillin: "Shots fired!" Made it hard to focus on looking for typos lol.