A/N: So what do you think... Is White is too nice? Is White's too mean? Has the word 'freak' has been overused for the past three chapters...?? Are people deeply offended by my ritualistic slaughter of modern grammar and spelling? Just wondering. :D
Ooh and thanks Rowe who kick started with the UST in Chapter 4, and Enigma who delved into Alec's head and pulled out some lines. And thanks Firehand for sharing your random thoughts - and everyone else who R&R�s!!!
"Give it a last meal; we don't want to be accused of being inhospitable."
The room the transgenics had shoved me into was everything I'd expected it to be. They had truly spared no expense in displaying their finest of accommodation. Though with a guest like myself, I really thought they would have gone for the high security approach. These crumbling walls looked as if they'd collapse if I so much as leant against them.
The hastily boarded up window spared me the eyesore that was Terminal City's narrow broken streets. Although I could obviously bust through without effort, I knew there would be guards waiting for me on the other side. Being a somewhat impatient man, the thought of biding my time was already forming a sharp knot of frustration in the pit of my stomach.
Weak light from beneath the door warned me where not to step. Granting me the unwelcome sight of walls stained and filthy, a ceiling cracked and peeling, rainwater trapped in stagnant puddles upon the sunken floor, and a bare lumpy mattress which stank of mould and rat piss. I wondered if every other building in Terminal City was as dismal and decayed as this, or if they'd just given me the worst of the lot. Perhaps the answer was a bit of both.
Glancing down at another suit about to be ruined, I removed my jacket and folded it onto one the driest section of the floor before sitting on it. Quietly I wished that I could compact myself into a ball so as not to touch any more of my surrounding filth than necessary. White. Pure. Unsullied. What a joke that seemed now.
Time seemed to stop within this room. I had no idea if I sat for minutes or hours. Alone with only my thoughts, I almost wished a transgenic guard could be posted in the room so I could taunt him with threats while whittling away the time. Perhaps a fellow prisoner? Someone whom I could train to swallow their own tongue while churning out profound statements on psychology and the taste of human flesh? But unfortunately my team were being held elsewhere and I was no Hannibal Lector. Isolation really could drive a person mad, especially in such settings as these. Well if nothing else, it would be an interesting test of endurance.
I knew 452 wouldn't have the guts to ship out my team in pieces, nor would she allow anyone else to attempt it. But I hardly cared if she spared them or not. It would make no difference to me. I had already made my last fuck-up for the Conclave. No amount of ass-kissing would spare me their wrath this time. Every chance I'd had to eliminate 452 had come to nothing but frustration. Ongoing defeat was not welcomed by the elders. We didn't come this far over ten thousand years by riding the back of failure. If I were to leave this hole, it would have to be with 452's lifeless body in my arms. If not, then I would be as hunted as surely as these creatures me and my kind sought to destroy.
Clenching my fists in frustration, I squeezed my eyes tight against the anger that burned within me. It wasn't my fault. I knew that, but the Conclave had grown tired of hearing my excuses. They doubted where my loyalties lay. They didn't understand why I was risking my entire race for the life of one child. My only son - Ray. He was my world, my existence. Unfortunately, I had only come to realise this fact when I stood over his unconscious body during the proving. Since then, the words of the priestess had resurfaced daily to haunted me. He's weak. I'd be surprised if he survives.
My loyalty lay with my only son. He was the shield 452 held before her. And I knew that as long as he was kept from me, I'd continue to spare the girl's life.
Perhaps I was already going mad. Here I sat, trying to sound out the deep and hidden meanings behind every little thing that had brought me to this stinking rotten hole. The prophesy protected the girl, twisting her away from me at every turn, even when nothing stood between us but my own conscience. The very prophesy which my kind fought against, appeared in turn to protect me. On several occasions now I should have been dead by the hands of a transgenic. The balance was even. For reasons beyond my comprehension, Fate wouldn't allow either of our deaths right now and I was itching to find out why.
The light beneath the door by now had retreated, in the darkness I could almost pretend I was somewhere else. The walls of this room were held together by grime and tainted by the sour smell of sickness. I wasn't by any means squeamish. Just meticulous. And so I'd rather sit here and develop cramp than walk through puddles of filth to lie upon a disease ridden bed. I couldn't stand putrefaction, none of my kind could. In the perfect world, there would be no famine or disease, no wastelands rotting with the bodies of plague ridden rats. These things had been brought into the world by humankind. We were better than human.
A sound outside the door interrupted my thoughts and I jumped to my feet as the handle turned, preparing to face whatever jazzed up cat, dog, lizard or three-headed mythological dragon that was bound to enter the room. After all, you could never be sure what Sandeman had been playing with in his secret little lab.
"So, you haven't hung yourself with your tie yet? Well that's a shame."
I rolled my eyes and sneered at the X5 standing in the doorway. "The court jester. I'm honoured. I take it you're here to amuse me with your clownish antics?"
494 merely gave me a tight lipped smile and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. For a moment, his eyes almost glittered in the darkness and I could sense his desire to do the one thing we both knew 452 would never bring herself to do. Kill me. I also sensed that the only thing holding him back - was her.
He thumped the wall, which surprisingly remained intact, and yelled to whoever was outside. Moments later, a weak bulb spluttered into life from above, and suddenly the ghastliness of the room was emphasised by the stark light.
With a wide smile that I found highly suspicious, 494 waved before me a brown paper bag. "Want some burger?"
I sneered at him. "How about you freaks just spare yourself the food rations and kill me now?"
Ignoring my remark, he grinned. "No? Ah well, your loss." An inquisitive look crossed his face. "What do you familiar types eat anyway?"
I stared open mouthed at his easy going stance as he leant against the back of the door and began to awkwardly unwrap a burger with his broken, bandaged up arm. Of course, my lack of response only seemed to give 494 encouragement to speak.
"You know, I hear that in some countries, snakes are a delicacy. So, do you eat the snake or just drink the blood? 'Cause you may just be missing out on -"
What exactly do you want 494?" To say I was irritable would be the understatement of the century. How he had managed to survive all of these years when he obviously had the mental agility of a young child, was beyond me.
Taking another larger bite, 494's face showed an exaggerated look of satisfaction as he crunched the bread and its fillings. Valuing discussion over table manners, he swallowed only half of his mouthful before continuing with his mindless chatter. "I just thought we could have a friendly conversation... I mean, I know we're enemies and all but you can't truly hate someone unless you know them first right?"
"I don't want to know you 494. I just want to kill you. And the more you speak to me, the more intensely I want to wipe your smirk off your face and then wipe your head clear off your neck!" I also wanted to kick myself. The transgenic was obviously up to some new game, and so far he had succeeded in agitating me with only the barest effort. I tried to reclaim my composure, not wanting to rise to the bait again.
He shrugged his shoulders as his grin grew wide enough to claim his face, and continued. "We'll start with you huh? How's it going? How's your family?"
My scowl deepened but I stood my ground, refusing to give a comment, knowing it would only encourage him.
Crooking his head to one side in contemplation, 494 paused for a moment as if relaying his words back to himself. "Oh... touchy subject? Happens when you kill your wife and send your kid into a freaky ass snake worshipping cult."
Before I even realised what I was doing, I sprung forward and knocked the remainders of the burger from 494's hands, my hand grabbing his throat as his eyebrows began to rise in what I suspected was only mock surprise.
"I'm not in the mood for chit chat, I'm not in the mood for deciphering your whacked out nonsense and I'm certainly not in the mood for listening to you talk of things you know nothing about."
I pressed harder against his throat, hoping that with enough pressure his head would explode, thus erasing the smart ass look right off his face. But the more I pressed, the further he managed to grin, serving to frustrate and anger me further.
"You may think you have me under the sole of your boot right now, but that's just your perception. Make no mistake - you won't have me trapped in shit hole forever. And I will kill you and your little X5 whore in the first given opportunity."
Releasing him, I stepped back, glowering with the rage which seemed to forever simmer within me. But the look in 494's eyes matched mine, except his anger radiated through a smug facade. As if he still had one up on me. Well being that I was still their prisoner and at their mercy - I guess he did.
"Max is no whore . But you know, I think I've figured you out Ames." 494 spat the name as he rubbed at his throat, his voice slightly raspy but still filled with hate none the less. "Your jealous aren't you? I saw the way you were looking at her before..."
He stepped forward, his eyes narrowed into a dangerous glint. 494's arm was bound and in a sling but he was still a threat I knew not to take lightly. "Whatever creepy little thoughts you have about her, I suggest you get them out of your head right now."
I laughed at his unspoken threat. I wanted to tell him the truth - that the thought of physical contact with his little bitch, except to kill her, made me nauseous. But I instead gave into the temptation to say something that would inflame him so much more.
"What's wrong 494 - feeling a bit insecure? Oh I don't blame you. You're obviously doing nothing to satisfy the little wench. I'm sure it wouldn't take much coercion from me to have her screaming my name."
With immense pleasure, I noticed how my comment had succeeded in agitating him further. His glanced down to his injured arm and back to me again, his jaw clenching with anger as he seemingly weighed up a decision.
"Why don't you just shut your mouth?" His voice was low and laced with venom. As much as he wanted to pretend my words didn't have any effect on him, he couldn't hide the fact that they did.
Bemused, I wondered if I had hit a raw spot. Though which part of my comment was the one that had hit the nail on the head, I wasn't yet sure of.
"Why 494? Was I too accurate for your liking?"
A battle of wills raged within him, but in the end he let out a quiet breath and forced a tight smile as his eyes fell to his injured arm once more. "Oh you know, I think I can let it slide White - besides, I know you're trying to bait me, and I would hate to give you that kind of satisfaction."
"You right 494." I eyed him critically. "It'd be best to wait until you have a fighting chance."
At that, 494 laughed with genuine amusement, his expression almost laid-back. "Oh White, I've already seen you in action remember? And don't you also remember how we left you taped to a post with your super duper ass kicking warriors in their underwear?"
494 chuckled to himself as he ran a hand through his hair, his stance that of a man who wasn't making an effort to be on guard. As with his easy-going expression, it was of course, a ruse. I smiled. His attempt to belittle me had no effect when I knew I could go one lower.
"I remember that day well 494. Your head would have been stoved in if it weren't for that human coming to your rescue. That must have been a real blow to the ego. How did your transgenic bitch look at you after that huh?" I punctuated my words and grinned as I watched the X5's jaw clench while he fought to hold on to his laid back facade. After a moment the smooth casual expression settled over his features once more.
"I don't think anything could knock down your ego White." He laughed and hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans before proceeding to bounce annoyingly on the balls of his feet, reminding me of a young child. "I mean look at you - you're so far up yourself you're inside out."
"Did you come here to bore me with your pathetic little jibes 494? Or did your little pals get sick of you and send you away? Because, I'm really not this desperate for the company." I scowled at him and sat back down on my jacket. I was under the transgenic's thumb right now, and there was currently nothing I could do about it. Besides, 494 had an aura about him that I found utterly draining.
He raised an eyebrow as I sat down, and then looked around the room as if taking it in for the first time. As his eyes travelled over the rotting mattress, the frown that had begun to form, deepened.
"You know Ames, I think I should see about getting you better accommodation. After all, we wouldn't want to be accused of being inhospitable."
He turned to leave, and his words brought to mind a memory. I had said basically the same thing about a transgenic whose murder I had ultimately set up. Mule. At the thought, I wondered just how noble 494's words were - or if this was some kind of karmic retribution.
"You know, you can't keep me here forever. And you can't kill me either."
494 turned back to face me, his hand pausing at the door handle. He scanned me for a moment before chuckling. "Oh don't worry White. At least not about us keeping you here forever."
I longed to tear the smug smile off his face, but instead felt my stomach muscles flex as I fought to control the urge. "The NSA know I'm here. And the Conclave won't take light to you holding their people. How about you show a bit of transgenic-style humanity and let us go?"
His expression grew serious and he chewed his bottom lip for a moment, as if in concentration. Then the cocky smile that I was growing to loathe was slapped on his face once more. "Nah. Like you said, I've got a new buddy to hang out with when my transgenic pals get sick of my pathetic jibes."
He left me with that remark and the room sank back into silence once more. This time, there was light in the room to emphasise the disgusting filth that surrounded me.
So much time had passed. I had begun to examine the insides of my own head once more. The transgenics had truly outfoxed me. I could control physical pain, and so I had believed nothing they could say or do would ever get to me. But here I was, trapped in a scungy little room for hours on end, with my thoughts running over and over in endless little circles. A myriad of emotions I didn't even know I possessed, ran through my mind. Desire, confusion, fear... This turmoil raged inside of me, with no way of release. I could almost considering beating my head against the wall if it would knock me out and allow me to escape myself.
This confined space I was stuck in, could almost lead me to develop empathy for caged zoo animals. At that thought, my mind turned to the transgenics who were trapped in this rotting section of Seattle. They were after all - caged zoo animals.
It surprised me that this kind of existence didn't drive them mad. Once again I asked myself, what the hell had my father been thinking when he made them? Whatever his intentions - did he honestly think they would ever be accepted by humans or familiars? They were abominations. Half of them looked like monsters. But... they were also intelligent. And I had to grudgingly admit - capable of human emotions and attitudes. With the way my thoughts had begun to reflectively drift these past few days, I could almost feel envious of this fact.
The only transgenic I had ever made a vague effort to speak to before had been Mule. A freakishly ugly specimen, with a face that had been so trusting, I had felt compelled to wish him good luck before sending him to certain death. He had then turned to me and said, "thank you - for everything" with more sincerity than any other creature I had ever met. He truly thought I was helping him to freedom.
In that moment before he stepped out from my protection and into the scalding public eye, I realised he had actually thought of me as his friend. He didn't know any better. He didn't realise I was in fact his greatest enemy. How would he be aware of this? He had never had a friend before to hold comparison to.
Now as I sat here with my conscience coming back to haunt me, I began to feel guilty for letting him think I was the noble saviour he had believed me to be. Why did I wish him luck? Why when I had never made even the barest attempt to be polite to a transgenic before? I didn't have to tell him to watch out for the sector police. It would have been enough for me to just release him from the car. Why had it been important for me to lead him to believe I was his friend?
It had been those damned eyes. His subservient, even gentle nature. Another reminder of how my father's manipulations had produced something that I felt the need to pity. At least until I had reminded myself of what he was - and of what I was.
As I watched Mule being brought to the ground by sector police, my smug satisfaction came not from witnessing his death, but from seeing the humans act like the very things I had always thought them to be - animals. They sickened me. Far more than my father's creations ever could, if I really dared to admit it.
And the strangest thing of all that I noticed only now in the solitude of my own thoughts - I had called that damned transgenic by his name.
How long were they going to keep me here? Long enough to drive me mad? I was half fearful that their plan would be successful. The only sound in this room was that of my own breathing. And an annoying drip drip drip from a ceiling leak that had been driving me crazy since I first became aware of it. So much for not wanting to be inhospitable. I think even I had treated caged transgenics with more decency than this. If I could just shut off both that damn drip, and the thoughts inside my head, I'd be content to suffer the sheer boredom.
But unfortunately, it wasn't the boredom that was the problem. It was 452. 494's reaction to my remark about his little wench had caused me to play back in my mind, the way her eyes had raked over my body before she had even realised it herself. It had been hard enough to get these fucked up little thoughts out of my mind before 494's insecurities had flashed across his face like an old silent movie. Now he had caused me to start wondering something I desperately did not want to allow myself to envision. My thoughts about 452 were no longer around ways in which to kill her, but rather ways in which to make her...
The sound of approached footsteps roused me from my thoughts - thankfully. I foolishly felt I would be grateful for the appearance of a transgenic once more.
Until the door opened.
And 452 herself stepped in.
Like a child caught peeking at a Penthouse magazine, I felt as if my inner fantasies had suddenly been laid out for all the world to see. Fantasies that were so so wrong, yet - I couldn't stop my mind from mentally indulging in them. And it was the fact that they were wrong, that had made such thoughts so enticing.
Internally I cringed, hoping she didn't have the same ability to read thoughts that some of my own kind did. Fortunately, her flat expression was as devoid of emotion as ever, though judging by the partially open door behind her, I wondered if she was actually afraid of me despite the fact that she had me at her mercy.
"Get up White."
I blocked out my earlier thoughts and allowed my customary smirk to settle on my face like a mask once more - it was a failsafe for all occasions.
"What's the matter 452 - afraid to be alone with me?"
The expression on her face flickered uncertainly for the barest moment before she kicked the door shut behind her. "Of course not. Now get up."
"Oh as if 452. Do I look like one of your little lap dogs you can just order around?" I laughed as her face contorted into a scowl black enough to chase away darkness itself.
"Move!"
She kicked out at me, just as I had anticipated she would. Grabbing her foot, I pulled it towards me and tipped her off balance, causing her to fall into a stinking puddle of water. She sat in stunned shock for a moment. The putrid liquid had splashed up on her and now dripped from her face and hair. It would have made such a humorous Kodak moment.
Then she snapped into awareness and reacted with pure anger rather than rational thought - another thing I had anticipated.
"You fucking piece of cult bred filth!"
Catching her as she hurtled herself at me, I pulled her hands away from my throat and flung her to one side, rolling with her as I still had hold of her arms. Pinned beneath my weight, she glowered at me and opened her mouth to no doubt yell for help to the guards in the hall. I released one wrist and held my hand against her mouth. She used her free hand to push against my chest and try to shove me away. When that failed, she began punching my ribs. I sighed. When would she learn?
"It's scary that I know you well enough now, to foresee the way you react when angry." My smirk broadened involuntarily as her eyes blackened further. I could almost see the pent up steam begin to escape through her ears.
"When you can't get your own way - when people don't do what you want them to do, you lash out. You really should learn how to control that fiery temper if you expect to be any kind of leader."
The realisation that I was giving her advice, however sarcastic and hypocritical it might be, caused me to laugh. And the fact that I was lying on top of her, abruptly cut the laughter off. Groaning inwardly, I asked myself how I had managed to get in this - predicament - with her. And the truth of the matter was that I had been imagining this very scenario before she had walked in the door...
452 mumbled something beneath my hand and I realised that while my mind had been locked into my own thoughts, she had been trying to communicate her insults to me for a seemingly eternal half minute or so. Snapping back to reality, I grinned down at her. "I'm sorry 452 - I can't understand you?"
This was poetic justice for her. She had left me gagged and humiliated before the mirthful laughter of Clemente after all. And so I was enjoying every moment of this chance to deal her a little payback. But as her chest heaved beneath me in an effort to draw in breath,
I realised I was enjoying this perhaps a little too much. Realising also that I was crushing her, I lowered one elbow to the ground - the one that held her wrist, and propped myself up on it to relieve her from some of my weight. I didn't want to suffocate the girl. Well, not yet at least."If you scream, I'll kill you before your little transgenic chumps have a chance to so much as open that door. Understand me?" She nodded her head - this was like a typical kidnap scene from a movie. Cautiously I removed my hand from her mouth, my fingers brushing her skin as I wrapped them softly around her throat - in warning.
"Now. What can I do for you 452?"
"Huh?" Her confusion at my question momentarily caused her to forget any threat to kick my ass that she had no doubt been formulating inside her head.
"Well... you came in here and tried to order me to stand before you as if I were one of your little minions. What did you want?" I spoke to her as if trying to explain simple road directions to a complete imbecile. But really, I was stalling. The truth is, I really didn't want to move off her. As much as I knew I'd hate myself for feeling this way the instant I was alone with my thoughts once more, right now she just felt too damn good for me to care.
Absent mindedly, I began to stroke the skin of her throat with my finger tips. She shivered slightly beneath my touch, causing her eyes to widen in surprise before filling with hate once more. "Would you stop that? And get the hell of me!"
The words were quietly hissed as she tried not to bring attention to the guards outside the door. Obviously she had taken my threat to break her neck seriously.
"Just answer the damn question 452." I knew I should move off her, this was just... odd. In an increasingly uncomfortable kind of way.
"You know, if you had listened to me in the first place, you would have found out by now why I came here!"
I laughed - at myself. She was right.
"Just get the hell off me and I'll tell you!" She grabbed the fingers that brushed almost gently across her throat, and held them still. A look of wild fear was in her eyes - perhaps fear of her own unwanted reaction to me.
It dawned on me then, that I was heading in a direction with this transgenic that I should never ever want to go. And somehow, she seemed... to be loathefully enjoying it as much as me. Surely not. The possibility of her desiring me was as unlikely as me wanting her... but here we were... this was so, so wrong.
"Deal." Distaste filled my mouth as I released my hold and moved off her. She sprung to her feet and shoved me backwards into the wall. I didn't try and stop her, in fact I was surprised that shoving me was the worst that she did. As I sank against the wall, my mind filled with self-disgust once more.
"I swear you're going to regret this Ames!" She too seemed to be crawling with disgust as she brushed at her clothes - as if trying to brush the memory of me off her.
I didn't answer. I couldn't think of anything to say. Nothing she or her transgenic buddies could do, would make me regret the way I had fleetingly allowed myself to feel about her any more than I already did.
"We had a deal 452 - why are you here?" The words came out from my mouth ragged and broken.
She stared at me in sullen silence, her eyes radiating hate, but burning also with something else. So many things had changed within me over the past few days, and even more suddenly, things had changed between us.
Finally, she released her voice. "Alec told me about the state of this room. I was going to take you to a better one."
I bit off the smart ass retort that leapt to my tongue and instead asked, "and you're not now huh?"
"That's right." Her expression tightened for a moment before she added, "you can stay here and rot."
452 then began to step backwards towards the door, not wanting to turn her back on me obviously. I took a couple of measured paces towards her and she halted, a defiant look at once jumping to her eyes.
"Wait." I held my hands up, indicating that I wasn't going to wrestle her to the ground once more. "What was the catch? I'm sure there must have been one."
We now stood two feet apart, though the thick wall of uncertainty and denial that rested between us made that distance seem so much farther - or closer - depending on how you looked at it.
Shrugging as she came to a decision within herself, she held out a hand and for a moment I looked to her in puzzlement, before realisation set in. On her palms were runes that had now nearly faded away. I took her hand in mine and ran a finger over the symbols. The way in which they appeared on her skin baffled me, the message they seemed to be relaying, baffled me further. But I wasn't about to let her in on either of these revelations.
As I held on to her hand and wrestled with a decision, I thought of how she had broken my mental defences just by.... being. Being inside my head. Being beneath me. Being the stone in my shoe for countless months now. Being the person to take my son away from me. Being the one to make me feel things I should only have felt for my wife - things that even my wife hadn't made me be able to feel. Gods I just wanted to wring her neck right there and then and be done with this dilemma.
I could help her, but that would mean changing my entire way of system of belief. It would turn me into the worlds biggest hypocrite. And it would undoubtedly bring a death sentence upon me if the Conclave ever found out. I just wasn't ready for anything like that - not to help a doomed race of people whose existence I had always sworn to hate.
"You want me to translate them for you?" Her eyes bore into mine as she nodded. I thought of Mule's trusting gaze. These runes scared her. It was almost as if she were looking to me as one looks at a familiar face amid a crowd of strangers. Well, one thing I was, was Familiar. And that was the problem.
"Well, that aint gonna happen." I forced my eyes to harden and my smile to grow cold. Then I looked down at her hand and released it at last.
"Fine!" She hissed the words, her voice laced with venom as she backed away and opened the door. "Rot in here then!"
As the door clicked shut and I was alone in the room once more, I resumed my seat on the ground. This time unmindful of where I sat. I was bone weary and filled with confusion. And guilt. Why guilt for crying out loud?
The sound of dripping began to rebound against the walls once more, as if taunting me into believing I had somehow made the wrong decision. Perhaps I should have agreed to help her. Just to get out of this damned room. I had the sickening feeling there had been some kind of fate filled symbolism behind me taking her hand moments earlier, and also for me letting it go. No doubt if I looked deeply enough into the damned prophesy, it would be in there. The question was, how much did it control me, and how much was I willing to let it control me?
All of my life I had allowed my decisions to be based on the ideals of the Conclave, or my animosity towards my father. I hunted the transgenics by the whim of the Conclave, I hated them as revenge towards Sandeman. A new thought began to worm its way into my head. If I were to strip away the brainwashing of both the Conclave and my own blinding hatred for my father, what exactly did I want to do?
That was a question I seemingly had all the time in the world to ponder upon as I sat in this damned filth filled room, alone with only my thoughts, and the god damned rhythmic drip from a leaky roof.
