Clipped Wings

A Clover fanfiction written by: RinoaDestiny

Chapter 7

Barus spoke to him privately over the official line, a handler following up after an assignment. Standing nearby was the captain, looking preoccupied with a book in hand, but listening. It was day one of their continued stay here, as ordered, and his injuries had healed enough overnight that he now sat upright on the cot. The curtains, drawn back since morning, allowed sunlight in. Yet, he was cold – stomach tight – and none of it had to do with the day before.

"I don't care if the squad's idling or delayed. Your job's done, so I expect you back."

"I'm following the captain's order," he said, voice low and non-combative. "He wants us to rest before –"

"Get him back on the line," Barus snapped, his mood obvious and without its usual jollity. "You come back immediately or I'll raise hell. Make me wait any longer and I won't be so kind."

The captain had glanced over at him, as if sensing something was amiss; trying to keep his voice from shaking, 284 did what Barus told him. "Sir, Colonel Barus wants to speak with you."

With two taps against his lapel, the captain transferred the call over. "Captain Hachi speaking. What is it, sir?"

From where he sat and observed, it became clear his handler was rebuking the young captain. The captain's expression, already serious, turned mulish. One of his hands clenched, as if fighting the urge to strike someone. His own hands, lying useless on his covered lap, stayed curled.

"With all due respect, sir – your agent's injured and requires recovery time, same as my unit. In three more days, we'll fly back. I do not see the reason for urgency."

Whatever it was Barus said, the captain gave him a quick look.

"Yes, sir. I know. Still, he was placed under my command by my superior officer. If there's any issue, please take it up with him."

He didn't dare to hope, for Barus always got what he wanted. Barus outranked the captain – perhaps not the superior officer – and threats and intimidation usually worked. Why would anyone from Azaiea sacrifice their livelihood for him, a lowly prisoner? Even the captain had a strong military career, despite the possible lack of promotion. It wasn't a bad position, leading an elite unit.

"He came under attack and was alone. Always a risk for a sniper, especially without a spotter." Again, a glance in his direction. "It wasn't his fault, sir. The enemy knew where to look – they probably suspected."

284 silently swallowed, a lump forming in his throat. He could guess at Barus's tone and the gist of what he probably said about him.

"A chunk out of his left shoulder, knife wounds on both arms, and a stab wound to his left side. Lost consciousness. Not the only one injured." The captain paused and started pacing. "Even an agent attached to my unit deserves a rest. Don't you do the same for your men, if you'll forgive my presumption, sir?"

What the captain had done was dangerous, calling out Barus like that. Although it couldn't be counted as insolence or insubordination – the captain reported to someone else – it'd do little to mollify Barus's temper, which now needed an outlet. Him. As always.

"I ensure you, sir – we'll return as per my schedule. No later." A brief silence and then the captain looked at him, concerned. "I'll transfer you back to him, sir." Two lapel taps and the other man frowned, watching him.

Barus remained quiet on the other end, which increased his anxiety. He knew a storm brewed unseen, something he felt only because he'd witnessed and been on the receiving end many times. An ominous sign. His handler was enraged, seething and deciding best how to unleash it.

His stomach, already tight, twisted.

"So," Barus said, tone hard, "the captain insists on your continued stay with his unit. A rest, he says. A rest you undeservedly got for being an idiot. How did they see you, eh, Gingetsu? You should know better."

"They had their suspicions. We were on their –"

"Ah, yes. Their territory. And yet, you went unnoticed several times in your former home country, didn't you? Are you becoming complacent? Will you fail Azaiea, like you once did the special forces under your command?"

He winced at the reminder of his greatest failure.

"You offered yourself to the captain, did ya? That's why he's all sweet on you."

"No. I didn't," he protested, horrified at the thought. He didn't want… Just the idea of it revolted him, was nauseating.

Barus's voice hammered at him, a relentless tirade. "Your ass is fucking mine, you hear? Only I decide who gets a piece of ya – you don't call the shots. But your precious captain thinks he can and who's to blame for that? The fucking idiot who got himself hurt. You think you're on a holiday? Do you, Gingetsu?"

Shivering, he could only listen, mute against the verbal onslaught.

"I've been thinking. You feel so secure when you're away, don'tcha? Got a bit of breathing room, huh? Perhaps that's too much freedom even for you. That will change. Right after I fuck some sense into you, you go to the specialists. We'll see then if you continue mouthing off or pulling your goddamn stunts. My men were right about you."

"No." The word was a plea; panic arose within him. "I didn't do anything –"

"Then get your damn ass back here. You think I won't follow through?"

Bowing his head, 284 stared at his hands in his lap. They were cold, even though the room was warm. "I'll…" He could barely speak, aware of what awaited him when he returned. Everything would change; he would be changed, forcibly. He trembled, unable to suppress it. The captain was before him in his periphery, yet he kept his eyes down. "I'll…do what I can."

"You better, Gingetsu. Don't get comfortable. Nothing escapes me."

There was no distance from Barus – not even here.

"We'll speak again. Dismissed."

The line went dead, empty air and he sat, frozen. Speech left him, as did the ability to move. Time seemed to stop – his heart beating, pulse fast – suspending thought and with it, all decisions. Escalating panic, building and building.

"Gingetsu…"

A hand touched his shoulder; 284 flinched, jerking back, panic erupting. It burst upon him, roaring in his ears and his mouth dry. His throat constricted, vision blurring and he couldn't breathe or swallow. Dead stale air around him and everything was falling apart. Everything closing in, a trap snapping shut and he…

It was like dying. He felt himself wither, razed, destroyed.

He stood alone and could not breathe.

Something near him changed, but he was unaware of what had. He no longer inhabited this space; instead, it collapsed upon him, consuming him. A telescoping world, claustrophobic and caught in the worst panic attack to date, 284 found the line between the sensation of dying and wanting to die thin.

Horrible, enough to make death seem merciful.

A sound, as though from a great distance and then voices. He couldn't differentiate – everything melded, becoming garbled – but his bodily paralysis must've eased, because he cowered, drawing his knees towards his chest. Kept his head bowed and whimpered.

"Panic attack. What happened?"

"…something to give him? After?"

"…sedative. Weight? Height?"

Background noise, the voices going back and forth. If he was dying – he'd come close before – then just let it happen. Let it happen; he didn't want to suffer anymore. Not like this. Not like –

"Stay with him."

Someone nearby, but not touching him. "Gingetsu, you're going to be okay. We're getting you a sedative."

He heard the speaker clearly – the captain – yet remained silent, holding himself tightly. Pressure still, the unease present and he trusted no one, not even himself. Let this pass, let it… Why wasn't he dead? Why did he still live?

Another sound and then someone else spoke, drawing closer. "Sir, here. This should work. Wait for it to pass. May take a while."

"Thank you, Wata. Will he be alright?"

"Hard to tell, sir, but it looks rather bad. Take it carefully afterwards, okay? Don't startle him."

"Will try not to. Thank you again."

The door closing. A sigh above him, followed by a slight rustle as the captain stooped down to his level. "Whatever happened there, take your time. The others can look after themselves for a while."

His surroundings slowly returning to his senses – the world wobbling upright again – 284 lifted his head and stared at the bewildered captain. His body felt numb, his thoughts scattered and currently inchoate. Wetness on his cheeks, shaming him. Disappear. Invisible.

Across from him, the other man sat down, cross-legged. Didn't touch him.

Exhausted, he waited for the attack to pass. It'd take time and that, too, had unwound and finally begun to continue again.

The sealed ampoule in his hand was small, a potent military-grade sedative. Wrung out by the panic attack, 284 remained slumped by the wall. His skin was clammy and pale; shock had unsettled him, had upended his world for a couple of hours. Still sitting across from him, the captain frowned, as if trying to unravel the cause of this sudden disruption. True to his word, the other man hadn't left him, also waiting for the attack to pass before speaking.

"Take that when you're ready. It'll help you sleep."

He nodded, too tired to do much more.

"What did he say to you? Did you agree to something he demanded?"

"To return immediately." Closing his eyes, he shut out the world. "He's…very angry. I can't refuse."

"Why? I've already told him you'll come back with us. On my schedule."

"Because if I don't, he'll…" A shudder ran through him, unguarded. "I have to…" Shame and humiliation together, a brutal joining for brutal acts suffered. "I'm needed."

An obvious pause before the captain spoke. "For what?"

Keeping his eyes closed, he replied, hearing his voice detached and inflectionless. "Gratification." Nothing more, for he didn't wish to elaborate on what this meant. He felt wretched, almost physically ill.

A long and uncomfortable silence, the captain not saying a word in response. 284 dared not open his eyes to look, sure the other man was disgusted by him or now disdained his presence. Perhaps he'd be ordered to return to Azaiea to remove him from the other's sight. Let the prisoner who allowed his own debasement crawl back to his disgrace. What did it matter to someone secure within the Azaiean military hierarchy? He knew the captain's remaining squad members would encourage it. Despite his contribution to this operation, there was no camaraderie between them.

Did he have a choice? No. Barus had him trapped and returning earlier could mitigate the consequences. But there was no guarantee and his handler, once enraged, never forgot the perceived slights. His punishments made it all too clear how little he held his worth as a person – he was an agent of the state, a body on loan for personal reasons. Soon, he wouldn't even have his own thoughts.

His future turning bleaker. Yet, what choice did he have, but to obey?

"Gingetsu," the captain said, breaking the long silence. "I can't let you return to that."

Startled, he opened his eyes, staring at the other man. "But…I have to."

A frustrated gesture – the captain looking cross, but not at him. Sunlight on his glasses, the outside reflected on the lenses. "Why? Can't you go home? Return to your country?"

Already emotionally and physically weary, 284 answered quietly. "I betrayed my country, sir. I don't have a home anymore. Don't ask that of me. It's no longer possible."

"But you can't return to Azaiea. To your handler. He's the one behind this."

His panic attack, witnessed by not only the captain, but someone else. Considering the sedative, possibly the squad medic. Ashamed, he lowered his head and didn't confirm the statement.

"Is there any way to get you reassigned to someone else?"

He shook his head, already knowing the answer. "Barus would refuse. He owns me. I'm his responsibility."

The captain's lips thinned. "He should take better care of you, then. Rather than…what he's doing to you." The other man shifted, readjusting his sitting position. "Our other agents are not treated this way."

"Are they Azaiean-born?" He remembered what Naoki said, about their own agents and how their loyalties were vouchsafed.

"Yes."

"I'm not." Within that statement laid the source of his mistreatment and the justification for it. "My handler was given instructions to break me in. If his methods work, it doesn't matter what he does." Another shudder racked him. "They do, together with the conditioning. He…enjoys what he does."

The revulsion on the captain's face matched what he felt, saying that.

"It's worse when he's angry. So I have to go back."

"You don't have to."

"Sir, he'll end your career if you stand against him." He should sleep soon, the sedative in his hand an aid to hopefully a deep dreamless state. "Your superior officer will probably insist you obey. If he calls later and commands you to release me early, would you tell him 'no'?"

A brief silence. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

Or that Barus would call a few hours later or tomorrow, angrily demanding his immediate compliance. If he complained to the superior officer, told him what an upstart young captain had said… They would both lose – he, his entire being; the captain, his livelihood gone and worse, if Barus wanted him permanently removed. Assigning someone to a suicide mission was a subtle way of destroying such obstacles. The captain, knowing too much and obstinate, would be seen as one.

"Don't make him your enemy. I was one."

"Now that I know, I'll not stand by and condone what he does to you."

"Sir, if you value your life and career, you will." The other man's frown deepened, but what he spoke was the truth. He understood how Barus worked, how he thought, and the lengths he'd go to in order to maintain control. Having the broken former Hisoku lieutenant colonel wrested away from him because of a softhearted Azaiean captain? Impossible. "Don't waste it on me. Maybe he'll tire of me eventually."

Or kill him one day, overdoing savagery during pleasure.

"We'll think of something." The captain stood, looking down at him. "I'll bring some food up, if you want an early dinner. Take the sedative and get some rest, Gingetsu. You're safe with me."

Yes, but never safe enough. A bitter lesson learned. How could he be safe when living in an unending nightmare?

Ryuu smiling, but his scarf trailed crimson behind him. Snow to ashes, gray and swirling and the central city, now a war-torn battlefield, echoed with the screams and cries of dying and injured men.

"Ryuu!" he shouted, adding his voice to the cacophony. His friend was gone, had vanished and…

Leather gloves on his hands, bloodstained. An explosion right by him, his vision dark and light, flashing. Colors, red and white, on and off, bright like a string of holiday lights. Ryuu standing over him, a rictus grin in his throat. Drip, drip, drip. Blood on the ground, on his hair, staining it red. A gash in his side. His sword was gone. His friend reaching down, that horrible gaping wound getting closer and the grin turned white, horrific in a different way.

"Well, if it isn't Gingetsu!" Ryuu's voice, but Barus's words. "Isn't this a nice surprise?"

A hand around his throat, closing tight.

He screamed.