Points of Divergence: Episode 17: Burning Heights
Shinji Ikari sat on the edge of the apartment roof looking past the circular gap in the city at the setting sun and ignoring the blisters on his arms. The sun would set soon, the space that the Angel had occupied would look slightly less black as the city lights replaced the deepening shadows. The blisters would fade before he went back to the empty apartment. If he did.
Asuka was out visiting Hikari, and Misato was pretending her night out wasn't a date with Kaji. They weren't even managing to hide it from him at this point, he wasn't sure why they bothered trying.
He wasn't sure why he bothered trying either.
One of the many things he was currently regretting was ever doing the "thermal expansion" calculation. A few nights of different nightmares, a shopping trip which was uncomfortable in more ways than what Asuka had been shopping for, a hotter night alone than usual and his curiosity had gotten the better of him. He was uncomfortably aware of the shape and size of Asuka's breasts, despite having no more contact with them than when he woke with her lying across him, something that hadn't happened in several days, she'd left him alone with the new nightmares. Which now included just how hot it would take for Asuka to burn, just how distressingly close Ayanami had been to that limit while she protected him during the third attack.
At least he'd been doing something then, even if he screwed up and nearly got Ayanami killed. The deepening shadows reminded him that once again he'd done nothing. He remembered nothing between passing out as the oxygen ran out and Misato opening the emergency hatch on the entry plug. Misato had congratulated him, then he'd been interrogated for anything he might remember. The one thing he did remember he wasn't going to tell anyone, certainly no one who might put it in a report that his father would see. Asuka had seemed more concerned that he almost died than his father.
Not that he was going to risk telling her about the half remembered, blurry image of his mother - he couldn't see her face of course, not even in dreams, nightmares or oxygen deprivation did he remember what she looked like, but he knew it was her. Except he was the size he was now, not small like the last time she was alive to hug him. The closest thing it felt like was Ayanami, and while he still wasn't sure what she was thinking, the way she hugged was definitely not motherly. Ayanami was also shorter, so whatever tricks his mind or the angel had been playing on him, it wasn't her.
No, the only way he was ever likely to see his mother again was if he leaned forward far enough. The roof was high enough. Of course knowing his life, he'd been reincarnated as a small bug which would be accidently stepped on or eaten. At least if he became bird food, that would be more useful.
He shook his head. Maybe tomorrow. Ayanami's hug was scheduled for the morning. He should at least do that.