Disclaimer: I do not own pokémon or the quote from the film "When a Man Loves a Woman".
Author's Note:I would like to thank you all for the feedback you gave me in the last chapter. It went beyond my expectations, and I encourage you to continue to suggest songs, as this story will continue to evolve and delve into more matters than merely the romance - which, you should all understand, is not necessarily themain focusof the story, as important as it may be….
At any rate, this entry is something of a bridge, and a bit of a breather from the last chapter, so if it seems anti-climatic…well, that's because its purpose is to set up the next sequence of events. That said, this short episode is essential to the future of the story.
Enjoy.
Previously:Mewtwo revealed the aspects of his past with Cassandra to Psyche – how the two of them met, what the human and he went through together…and ultimately how their doomed affair ended: with the teenage girl being a victim of his amnesia technique. After hearing the story, the Espeon decides to reveal everything to Cassandra, trying a last ditch attempt to save her friend from the oblivious female….
CHAPTER 12: NOT WITHOUT FEAR
'You hold the answers deep within your own mind. Consciously, you've forgotten it. That's the way the human mind works. Whenever something is too unpleasant, too shameful for us to entertain, we reject it. We erase it from our memories. But the imprint is always there. Nothing is ever really forgotten.'
- From the film: "When a Man Loves a Woman."
Cassandra Winters, the assassin of Team Rocket, an archangel in mortal flesh, stood before her prey as nothing more than a mere young woman.
Mewtwo watched as she trembled, as she tried to repress the emotions that tormented her and tore her soul apart with each passing second as she struggled to comprehend what to do next. Her head was bowed; her arms wrapped around her quivering body tightly…the clone made no move to touch her: she had already made it quite clear that he no longer had such a right. Once perhaps…but not anymore.
Mental rape had deprived him of the allowance; reduced him into the very type of creature he despised with all his soul. By his own hands, he had committed that unforgivable betrayal, witless of the parallel which now resounded so strongly in her mind...for she had let him touch her, had taken him into herself in a way that now revolted and drew her in equal measures. She had even loved him, and had spoken the words to him to tell him such. She had given him all that she possessed of herself - him, who wasn't even a fellow human being! He, a creature who many contended did not have a soul! After all, God had not made him - the defiant race had, killing their Almighty when they'd taken His power. Again, His murder was an example of yet another witless act - for once a species can explain the mysterious elements that created matter and life, and the force which is called the psyche, the spirit, they no longer find it necessary to believe in a divine being. And without any whom worship the entity, the entity Itself will slowly sicken and fall into fantasy, dwindling until It is only a faint memory in the history of the race It made.
It becomes a fake dream; a children's tale...much like what they had shared. No...that was incorrect: the concepts were identical. For love in itself is a deity in the world…but when lovers no longer have faith in what founds it - in one another - it too withers and then perishes without a word, too weary to protest.
At least…that was the case most of the time.
"...You…you bastard. What made you think you had the right to go into my head and…? What thefuckdid you use as your justification?"
Unfortunately, Cassandra already knew the answer to that...for if she had been in his position, she would have committed the same atrocity in order to keep them bothsafe.Still,shehad been the victim, not him.Shehad been the one made to forget…!
(…I do not expect your forgiveness, Cassandra. My actions were monstrous…I am certain you know that I comprehend this fact well.)
In response, she shuddered instead of speaking, and he heard how difficult her breathing had grown, as if she was being choked by a non-physical force. Yet even with sobs threatening to overtake her, he doubted she would weep: she was well past that point when it came to the fury and hurt that grasped and squeezed at her innards, making this current confrontation so hard for her to get through without doing something rash. The male had to admire her ability to keep herself so well under control…but at the same time, he wished she wouldn't. However harsh it may be, he deserved her wrath…and he despised that she wouldn't shown him her eyes. Of all creatures, he would understand if she broke down now, and would think no less of her for it.
Then, suddenly, that was precisely what she did. With only a small, strangled cry to give him warning, she came at him, pounding her shaking, clenched fists against his chest, his shoulders, his ribs. She struck at him as sharply and forcefully as she could manage, yet in the end her strikes did not hurt Mewtwo in the least. Perhaps he would be a tad bit bruised from the assault, as her hands would be, but nothing more. When she finally drew back, pulling away from the arms that had almost enfolded her even as she fought him, she finally looked up at him, her eyes blazing as they met his, glistening in the dim moonlight that shown through the windows so high above them.
"…You may have wanted to save me frompain, Mewtwo…but I-," she halted then, correcting herself, "…shewanted to remember you, despise how much it hurt."
As she turned away from him in that moment, retreating to her adopted place in his home, the artificial pokémon stared after her...and then teleported outside into the cold, black air, his eyes lifting to gaze up at the indifferent moon. He…had not missed how the human had altered the perspective of herself from 'I' to 'she' to indicate that the one he had so cherished no longer existed, not even in the slightest of manners. His dove was gone now, reduced to nothing more than a memory….
The worst part was that he'd once had a chance to save her from fading completely….
- Team Rocket Viridian Base Laboratories (Beta). -
"I think you'll be quite pleased with the progress we've made, Signore Giovanni. Several improvements have been made to the GV serum since I last sent you a report," Dr. Kitadake said as he led Domino and their boss to an unlit observation room. As the trio took their seats behind the glass, the scientist leaned forward with a wicked, prideful grin as he spied his subordinates in the testing chamber beyond the window. The interns seemed prepared for the worst from the subject strapped down to the steel table they surrounded, despite the creature currently being in a nearly comatose state.
"The catalyst we've produced is now close to 90 percent effective. Regrettably, we are still struggling on a way to incorporate it into the compound with the exact delay you desire. So far though, wehavemanaged to cut the incubation time to less than sixty hours. This particular subject was exposed to the serum 52 hours ago – as you can see, it is entering the third and final stage," he continued, breathing out a pleased sigh as he saw the fruits of his labor come into being before his superiors' eyes.
The infected one, an Arcanine that had been maimed in a battle a few weeks prior, was stirring awake, its growling becoming increasingly agitated as it rose and found itself bound. It promptly began to thrash against its bonds, snarling and roaring, spittle seeping from its snapping jaws, its fur and claws flying into the air to find release. It soon displayed a forcefulness that the straps could not withstand, despite their being made to subdue pokémon of far high levels than their current captor. Viciously it tore itself free, launching its body from the table at the tamers surrounding it. At first, they kept it at bay through a series of electrical shocks from the charged rods in their hands, the device made to hold enough voltage to force even an Ampharos into moving away from the searing burn. But the canine would not be subdued. It smelled the blood in their veins, heard the frenzied pounding of their hearts, felt the warmth of them through its swiftly shedding fur, could almosttastethem in the air not a few feet from it…and it longed to ravage them in the most violent manner it could.
But not for what they had done to it - not in retaliation for the serum that they'd injected into its body. The desire to maim, to kill, was base, driven by the force that was eating away at its mind and keeping its only thoughts those of creating death and pain. The being was feral in the worst of ways; not in control of itself in the least…but it still possessed a purpose: to spread the poison in its system to another, and another... The toxin itself would kill the creature eventually, but only after pumping it so full of adrenaline and endorphins that it could not sleep or feel pain - only attack, infecting others with the lethal chemicals it had been exposed to, until exhaustion, dehydration, and starvation destroyed its body.
Giovanni watched the Arcanine with a satisfied sort of contemplation, and then rose, "It was infected by the bite of a previous experiment, was it not?"
"Yes. However, we plan to see to it that such drastic methods are eliminated. After all, you wished for its transmission to be subtle – a gaping wound it hardly inconspicuous."
The crime leader grunted in agreement, and motioned for Domino - who was staring into the test chamber with narrowed eyes - to rise, "You've done well thus far. From this, I am to understand that the prototype of the GV compound will be ready by the New Year?"
Dr. Kitadake nodded, "Almost certainly. Now that we've bypassed most of the real obstacles, work will move swiftly. We will probably be able to start producing a commercial serum by the beginning of February at the very latest. I take it you'll want to observe further tests?"
"Yes; and I think it would also be wise to conduct some field tests soon. I already have a few sites in mind that would be suitable for such trial runs: zones that are reasonably isolated, and possess a low human population. At any rate, it should prove...informative,to see public and governmental reactions in these smaller areas, before thinking about making larger, strategic hits."
The scientist quirked a grin, "Indeed. I will inform you as soon as we have a completely viable product."
"I would expect no less from you," the crime lord stated, and then went on less formally, "...Now all we need is the sample Agent Winters is bringing to us…once she's returned, we can begin the secondary part of our plans. You will have even more to occupy yourself with soon enough, doctor. Do try not to disappoint-."
The monster in the other chamber threw itself at the glass between them, startling them from their conversation. It had turned away from its tormentors in rage, evidentially having detected the trio beyond the window. But it would not make it through the barrier: one of the technicians near the creature pulled out a dart gun, shooting it with a lethal dose of sedative. It wavered, stumbled…and then crashed to the ground, never to rise again. The Team Rocket Elite members approached the glass, looking down at the fallen demon sprawled out on the cold floor. Its breathing was labored and heavy, saliva running from its muzzle, the liquid mingled heavily with blood gagged up from its stomach and lungs. It peered up at them with completely gray eyes, the pupils foggy with cataracts, and the irises and whites of the orbs turned to a smoky hue.
Then, slowly, it closed its dead eyes, and fell into the final oblivion of lifelessness….
"Espeon...espe. Es, espe...es, es, espeon…," Psyche had told her, "There is a small, black book within Mewtwo's quarters that has what you wish to know within it...there is even a photograph of his former partner. I would suggest you take a look at it now, while you have the chance...Mewtwo, after all, will never allow you near the book if he's here…."
The psychic's words flowed through Cassandra's curious brain like a spilling of wine, intoxicating and mellow in the sound of it splashing against the depths of her mind. Vaguely as she walked to the doorway into Mewtwo's room, she let herself recall past incidences that had created clashing notes to the backdrop of the repetitive symphony that accompanied her with every mission she took. This time around she was faced with a mystery...for there was something terribly familiar about the creature she was hunting, a feeling she did not know how to define. His mannerisms, his movements, the physical traits of himself...all had aroused moments of undeniable deja-vu when she had been in his presence. His words, his motions about her, his behavior…whatwasit that struck her so? She had never known of Mewtwo before Giovanni had handed her the files on him…!
...Did she know the girl then, his lover? Somehow, that seemed to ring true in her mind, through she could not fathom how such a thing could be. Still, something was wrong in an integral sense. Something was off with the world she'd stepped into…and for reasons she could not explain to herself, she wanted to know why that was, even though it went against everything she'd been taught. Assassins, after all, do not take any interest in their targets lives or pasts...their only concerns were for the immediate present, since a future would not exist for the hunted individual. All that there was to the relationship was that, in the end, one of them would die, and not from an emotional murder of passion. It was cold, what she did and was; calculated and precise. It was not her place to try to learn Mewtwo's secrets.
A killer never grows enough attached to their victim to gain a sense of wonder about him or her.
And yet…this wasn't like the other assignments. This wasdifferent….
Stepping into the clone's room, she found his book within a few instants. The air seemed to grow heavier with each step she took towards it, and her body and mind began to feel just a bit sick, as if she were committing some unspeakable evil by invading this place. As a result she hesitated to touch the book, to let her fingers roam across the leather surface. It was the same as she remembered, but this time, it seemed to weigh far more. Did it feel too dense because it was filled with the thoughts, the feelings, and the secrets of the one she was here to destroy? The one that provoked her curiosity, despite her training to be detached…?
As she opened the book, flipping through the pages for what she sought, spying innumerably poems, quotes, theories, and ideas in the dull pages, a soft saying came into her mind:curiosity killed the cat, remember?
Then she came to the photograph…and felt as if she were falling, her wings cut from her back and no one there to catch her….
In that moment when illusions ended, when lies were dashed aside by the even crueler truth, Mewtwo found her there, the book fallen from her hands to her feet, the Polaroid clutched tightly between her fingers. He halted immediately upon spying the thing she held in her grasp, at the wash of emotions swirling toxic in the air around her: confusion…revulsion…even an edge offear. Hearing him step up behind her, she asked in a harsh, shaky voice, "What…whatisthis?"
Mewtwo closed his eyes…what could he possibly say to her?
She spun around, holding the photograph in front of his face, "Is...isthisyoursickversion of some sort of practical joke? You make a fake photo with…withmein it, and egg Psyche on to - how the hell did you get a picture of me when I was-?"
(It would take by far more skill in photo-rendering than I possess to do what you imply. The picture is authentic…the faded quality of it, the tearing and wear it possesses, should be enough to make that much clear to you, even if you do not comprehend what it shows.)
She stared for a moment…and then shook her head quickly, "You're lying. I never…. Not with you-!"
His eyes flashed, narrowing with something akin to anger... He swiped the photograph out of her hold and gazed upon it, observing the scene it held. The bed shown was only dimly lit from the faint glow of sunrise filtering through the window to the outside…the clone lay on his back, tail laying out between his legs, his arms about the waist of the creature sprawled across him, her head resting on his collar. Both of their eyes were barely open, still glazed with sleep…the covers over them hiding them to the center of their thoraxes. Nothing was revealed at far as private aspects of either's anatomy were concerned…arms, fur, and hair covered all tender spots of their forms. Yet they were not clothed…and while their actions in the picture were innocent enough, the nakedness was clear in what it conveyed. Almost in confirmation of the suspected fact, the girl was blushing slightly…her fingers resting on her lover's shoulders, with the clone's muzzle pressed to her black hair, contentment evident in both of their expressions.
He should have burned this proof of their doomed affair with the other evidence long before now. Then this moment…it would never have occurred! She would not have believed the truth if Psyche had told her straight out, but now she faced undeniable proof thatshe, not some mysterious, random creature, had been his partner. Meeting her eyes and seeing the desperate look on her face, the subtle way her expression begged him to lie, to tell her this was not the truth, he realized that he couldnothide matters from her anymore. Try as he might, verity had come….
He moved before she had a chance speak again.
In the next moment, Cassandra found herself trapped against him, her forearms coiled in his tail, his arms grasping her tightly in manner that prevented her any type of escape…and in a sharp, silver sensation, wet and hot, she felt his mouth at her neck, his teeth against the skin of her throat just above her choker. She jerked before stilling…the canines he possessed threatened to slice into her, letting her bled out. The act would be simple enough for him to commit, though she'd never imagined he'd actually resort to suchpredatorymethods to kill her. To tear out someone's throat seemed far beneath him, but if he really wanted to, he could do it. He had enough strength in his jaw to put a lethal amount of pounds-per-inch of pressure to bite through her flesh, evenwithhis omnivorous teeth. Yet he merely held her there, keeping the woman incapable of pulling away…because no matter how evolved and advanced they might be, humans recall in their instincts what it felt like to be prey. Even now, as soon as they feel something sharp against their necks, they freeze, despite knowing that it's already over, that the razor will tear through their windpipe and end their lives. In short, Cassandra couldn't move – her body wouldn't allow her to.
"What are you-?"
(You are not afraid of this, are you…?)
Confusion flooded her brain…sensing it, he elaborated on his meaning. (…The prospect of pain…of injury…of death…the things that usually terrify others has no effect on you. The concept of my killing you here and now does not make you feel even the slightest shade of fear, for over the past several years you have lost the ability to care for your own life. As a result, many consider you to be fearless, for you hold no common phobias.)
(Yet...you are notwithoutfear. You are merely able tohidewhat frightens you better than most...)
He hesitated at that point...but then continued, understanding well that he was crossing a very distinct line.
(...After all...who would suspect you to be a creature afraid ofcloseness? Of...this...)
And the feline mimicked the very thing that had so horrified her in the realities conveyed in the Polaroid...his bite changed, teeth withdrawn from her skin, replaced with mouth and tongue, in a caressing and heated type of passionate kiss that shook Cassandra to her core. She began to tremble uncontrollably, a timid whimper escaping her at the sensation…feeling his hold on her turn into an embrace, his paws running over her form, finding the areas of her body that most responded to touch. He remembered well how make her feel craving, and used that against her. At one point, he traced the Japanese kanji for the word "regret" upon the small of her back, even knowing that she wasn't in the state of mind to recognize it: for she could not bear to feel his touches. She did not want…!
"Mewtwo...Mewtwo pleasestop! Stop…!"
Her plea came out weak and pitiful…and hearing it, he paused, and sighed into her: (…You wish to know the truth? Very well – I will return it to you. Yet if you cannot stand this act, I cannot conceive of how you will tolerate something far more intimate.)
And so he released her, shoving her away from him and lashing out with his powers, tearing into her mind regardless of the defenses she tried to guard herself with. He found the barriers he himself had placed within her mind three years prior, and dissolved portions of the psychical walls: not all at once, but now that the integrity of the barriers was breached, the rest would follow suit, until nothing more was kept hidden from her. He watched as she fell back, grasping the fibers of his hammock, her breathing coming in shuddering gasps. Her eyes widened and glazed as she gazed at his feet, the first of her lost memories flooding her brain, triggered by the tiniest of similarities and recognitions. What was remembered was splintered, flashing, varied, making little to no cohesive sense, before another recollection invaded it, buried it, mingled with it….
As the rushing flow began to stem to a trickle, she barely heard Mewtwo, her once-love and her current target, say quietly, (It will come back to you slowly…if you remembered all at once, I have little doubt that you would be rendered insane from the onslaught of information.)
She did not respond, nor did he expect her to. Picking up his book and replacing the picture to where it belonged, he set the condemning material back to where it had lain on his nightstand. That meaningless task complete, the male began to walk out of the room...but upon reaching the doorway, he turned back to her, and looked upon her with somewhat sad eyes, murmuring: (…Cassandra…you have nothing to fear from me...not anymore.)
With those words, he left…leaving her alone with the memories oftheirpast….
- Team Rocket Dormitories. –
…The man had returned to Cassandra's apartment once again, and this time he would not leave empty-handed or alone. Looking at the guardian Umbreon, he murmured that it was time to leave - they had no more time left to linger in this place. The wanderer had learned what Giovanni was planning, had viewed first-hand the weapon he was creating. He had seen the heinous tests, read the confidential files, and from the premonitions of the ancient one who accompanied him, he knew what would happen when the young woman returned to the organization. Musing on the grim truths of the coming future, he stole the items most precious to the girl: after all, they would no longer be safe in her hands once she came into her own.
The man only wondered who would suffer more in the end for her betrayals: Giovanni…Mewtwo…or the female herself?
The late autumn sun cast white light down upon the nursing kits and their mother. In the shadows, Mewtwo stood near them, meeting the eyes of the one who had forsaken his trust. Her gaze held no form of remorse...only shining with a faint gleam of inner satisfaction as he asked her, (Why…? Why did you reveal it to her?)
But even as the clone posed Psyche the question, he already knew her answer…and she said that much to him.
(…Psyche…because of your actions, now she too, will suffer.)
"Es…espe. Espeon, espe. Espeon," his friend replied, "Yes…and it's better that way. If she does not automatically try to murder you out of vengeance, than maybe she won't try to kill you at all. Perhaps the memory of how you loved her will stay her hand."
Bitterly, the demonic one laughed, scoffing at the childish, romantic notion, (…You are a fool, Psyche.)
Because if Cassandra disobeyed her orders, she would be branded a traitor – and Giovanni did not have mercy on those who turned their back on him. The man would condemn the angel todeathfor daring to let her target live, despite how much he had invested in the female! And even though the clone and the mutation were changed from their former selves, Mewtwo did not want Cassandra to die. He wanted her to live in any way she could, to continue breathing and surviving until she ultimately chose to fade away. And the only way that was possible...the only way was for him to die. There was no option which would allow them both to survive...or at least not one that he dared to entertain. So if he had to perish in order for her to live...so be it. He had expressed his views on the matter to Giovanni a year ago, when the man had trapped him on Mt. Quena.
Hanging there, crucified in a sphere of anguish illumination, Mewtwo had broken his promise to his mateirrevocably.
Yet even now, even after everything had unraveled, he did not believe he had made a mistake….
Giovanni sat within Mewtwo's lair, watching the screen that showed its brainwaves in fury. Several hours had passed in which the clone's body had been tortured, its cells turned to fire as the electrical volts had flooded its veins, but still, its will had not wavered! It defied him, and in the call of all those oppressed by a tyrant, it would rather perish than see its freedom taken from it. The crime lord would not be able to break its soul…its body, perhaps…but not the damnable soul it had somehow managed to obtain!
Faintly the man heard Agent 009 shouting at him that the psychic could not be destroyed…it would take too many years and too much money to create again, even with the genetic base they would obtain from its corpse. But Giovanni was too frustrated to care: this had become a personal fight for dominance! Whose spirit was stronger, the creator or the created? Giovanni had been put through too much in his life to believe that a bastard of science like Mewtwo had more strength than he did. He would not have it!
It was time for Plan B. Like the serpent he was, Giovanni uncoiled from his seat, going out onto the grounds beneath Mewtwo's suspended body. The man's voice, strong and hard from years of giving inhumane and merciless orders, carried up to the suffering feline with ease…the tempter trying to discover whether the creature would succumb to the prospect of pleasure, not pain.
"Mewtwo, this fighting is pointless! Neither of us will succeed in this clash, so let me make you a better offer: if you come with me and do my bidding, I will give you back your…partner. I will turn a blind eye on what you do with her, and not intervene with your potential happiness. For your services, she will be returned to you immediately. Does that seem to be a fair enough trade?"
He saw how the clone had opened its eyes minutely, peering at him through the slits of its eyelids, contemplating what he said. Then it closed it eyes again, and as Giovanni noted, its brainwaves began to grow erratic as it seemed to remember the girl he spoke of, now an adult, and what they had shared together illicitly. Would the clone, he wondered, take that bait? What was more important to it? Freedom…or love?
For its companions, the question had been a matter of safety versus independence - to Mewtwo, the choice was far more horrendous to comprehend.
After a minute under the Viridian Gym Leader's observation, it opened its eyes again…and proceeded to laugh at him.
(I will not accept that deal…you know as well as I that she would not accept me now, nor would I force myself upon her merely because the option is open to me. Do you honestly believe that what I felt for her was merely lust? No, Giovanni…the one you offer to me so carelessly was my mate. But I never owned her…nor do you now.)
(Someday, you will comprehend that fact as well – for despite the farce of a relationship you have with her, she is not YOURdaughter.)
Those facts declared, Mewtwo smiled with some dark humor, (Now if you are done attempting to bend me to your will with false promises, I would prefer if you merely end this tiresome game of yours. I grow weary of your attempts to destroy me.)
Giovanni shook with rage - how dare any being speak to him in such a disrespectful way? Without a thought he turned the energy output of the capture drones to maximum, increasing the level of pain they afflicted to an utterly intolerable amount, even for a beast who could so quickly adapt to suffering and abuse. The task complete, the crime lord walked away, leaving the abomination that had touched his goddaughterin feculent ways to its demise.
The only pleasure the seething human took from the incident was the screaming the animal gave as he left it to perish and rot….
That night, Mewtwo stared up at the moon, at the god-eye of ice and stone….
So Cassandra…I could have saved you. I could have returned then, on the pretense of his lie, and kept my word. But…what use would it have been when you would not have remembered your vows to me and kept them too? What use would it have been…dove?
Author's Note:I can't believe I updated this...right before I go on my trip. Ah well...
Anyhow, in the next several chapters, you will notice that I will cut to memories of the past that I needed to leave out of chapter ten for length purposes. I will try to make the transitions as smooth as possible…just understand, they are needed to be included to give a whole picture of everything that occurred between Giovanni, Mewtwo, and Cassandra. Essentially, the relationship those three possess is what runs the story.
Weird, but though it may not seem like it, we're just about halfway done with this fic….
Pleasereview. Thanks.
- WiseAbsol
P.S. - In my profile are two pictures from "Angelic Shadows" (technically four, since two are sketches and two are the colored versions), so if you are interested in seeing what Cassandra looks like, go take a look at them. Many thanks to Tierkana for her Photoshopping skills...she turned my penciling into art! Gotta love her!