What's left behind
22/5/14 01:31![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scubatankfilledwithfartsNotes: whew idk idkidk
theres more for this later
like tetsuo fucking....coming to and being angry and terrified and ot3-ing the fuck outta life gradually but not so gradually that they dont notice
so i tried
and i kinda like it
She recognizes the voices spilling across the synapses of her mind instantly, muscle memory splayed right there in the grey matter. They aren't something she'd made an effort to escape regardless, not when it came down to the wire, not back then. Not now.
He's here hes here here he's here he is here he's here right there he's here-
The rush and meld of the words, faster than Kaneda's bike, faster than any shower of gun fire fills her head with images to accompany the fray; familiar conversations and faces, events that still lock her body, powerful now, powerful from the start, with terror--
[The screams of agony and the brush strokes of blood always looping with happy faces, fury, cheekiness, and always back to him]
When Kei is finally released from the psychic hold of sensation she jack knifes up in bed [if you can call the nest of blankets and futons anything but] in a cold sweat, a location burning the backs of her eyelids and four words lingering.
[This is our thanks.]
Full lips thinning into a narrow line, trembling to withhold the gasps for air she shouldn't need, Kei exhales sharply through her nose instead, lets her eyes adjust to the darkness of the room. Kaneda is a comforting warmth sprawled beside her, one arm across her lap where it slid upon her rude awakening. Thankfully this incident didn't disturb him.
[They're far used to being woken shaken and howling, able to do nothing for precious moments but hold each other close, feel their breaths mingle and know they made it]
Her fingers aren't even shaking as much when she skates them down his arm, traces those knuckles powerful enough to punch fellow survivors into a pulp for the last bit of food but gentle enough to hold her in the dead of night when even the stars' light seems to forsake them. Her eyes flicker from his hands to his face, slack and peaceful in sleep. Younger than the few years under his belt that still hardened him. He deserves a few more hours rest. And she....she needs to figure out where to go on from here.
[Isn't that the question of the century? The new motto of the land of the rising sun? The sun will continue to rise now but will the people? What now, what now, what now?]
[It feels a little less like gravity's trying to crush you to the soil and welcome you back to Earth's embrace if you first focus on food, shelter, warmth, she's figured out pretty quickly]
Back then, what feels like years ago when it's only been months, maybe, she hadn't hesitated very long to do what was right. Because she was the only one. The instructions, as mad and impossible as they were, were a lot more clear cut than this cryptic shit.
Who was here? Akira? The other kids? Something else? Was she to find whatever it is and take out an impending threat? Observe? Seriously, what the hell.
Forgoing the urge to rip out her hair in frustration Kei rubs the start of a headache at her temples instead, then jumps in surprise when the anchor across her lap moves to tiptoe warm fingers across her hip and up her belly. She casts her gaze [annoyed and grateful and annoyed] on Kaneda's face, no longer relaxed in sleep. It still clings to the grogginess painted in those dark eyes, the heavy drag of eyelids across those orbs, but his mouth is curled into a grin much too mischievous for so early in the morning.
"Whassa matter?" His voice rumbles where he's pressed against her side, goosebumps which would normally be welcome lancing across her skin reminding her of the scant bits of peace they'd had until now. [She had a feeling....]
"I had a dream." There's no use lying. It's the truth after all, both of them privy to frequent ones as of late.
His mouth pulls into that sloppy shit eating leer, the one she knows the feeling of pressed into the juncture between her shoulder and her neck, and the feeling of it splitting beneath her fist with a satisfying crunch.
"Why didntcha say so? Why dream of me when the real thing's here and ready for ya." Ah yes, there's that satisfying sound now, the sound of her hand meeting his face, shoving him back into the futons.
[But with it comes the satisfaction of the tense set of her shoulders unraveling bullshit by bullshit.]
"Not that kind. The "mystical bullshit" kind." Kei will actually admit to the disappointment that comes from watching the jovial expression drain from his face.
"You don't say. Collect call charges gotta be a bitch from the other side." Though his words come out as playful there's a firm, no nonsense look in his eyes she knows she can't escape. And, without prompting, she answers the questions swirling in his eyes.
"Apparently I'm picking up the charges. I've got another job to do. And this time I don't exactly know what it is. But I know where." Her gaze cuts to the hard line of his body beside her, strong shoulders that carried half of the weight of the world with her. "You can stay here and watch the fort while I'm gone." It's halfhearted at best, half knowing he'll follow her to the end of the earth and half recognizes she doesn't want to do this alone.
A rude snort and arms winding around her waist, pulling her into his warmth, the roar of his heartbeat against her nearly in synch with her own anxious beat, are her reward. "What, and let you wipe out without me? Not a goddamn chance."
A surge of affection rushes through her along with his face in her hair.
"Besides..." The fingers he thinks are sneakily cupping her breast stop that fondness double time.
[Well, there's still something fond about crushing his fingers just to hear him yelp]
So when light begins to splinter along the horizon, bringing with it hues of pink and gold, beauty that once seemed lost to this land, they pack their meager provisions and set out into the empty city. Hours of dust trailing in their wake and few and far between fellow refugees either begging for help or shielding away from the very real potential of dangerous newcomers are their companions along the way, Kaneda's arms snug around her waist [like they belong there] where he sits behind her, content to let her piece together the visions of her message and set the path.
[He trusts her, something she hasn't bothered to question because why should she? As much as they argue and clash and burn hotter than molten lava they also fit into place, jarring each other but never untangling or hindering]
It's four days of camping out in scalped ruins of buildings and under the stars later and going on evening time if the position of the sun and the cast of it's rays are any indication when Kei feels him. It's like she's stuck a fork into a wall socket and come away with her nerve endings burnt and tingling, oversensitive, a crackle of electricity rockets through her veins and sets in a prickle at the back of her neck.
[The scent of sickness, decay and medicine and strangely enough, bike oil and leather gloves clings to her nostrils]
Maybe Kaneda feels something like it at his very core as well or maybe Kei's a medium through and through, the sensations filtering into him because he sits stock still behind her in the very same instant, thighs that have bracketed hers for days suddenly trembling. Anxiety's been flipped on like a switch, his heart thunders against her back.
They scramble off the bike once Kei kills the engine, somehow they curb the impulse to jump, engine gunning and everything, which has got to count for something, right? The end of this journey finds them staring right through the crumbled remnants of what used to be a restaurant. There had been a firefight here recently, scorch marks diving up the walls and bullet holes riddled the floor and ceiling a sure sign as Kei and Kaneda make their way through a sea of toppled tables and remnants of old camps. There's even half of a couch turned on its side in the break room.
The feel and the smell of him calls to her from the kitchen and that's where they're drawn, heavy step by step. That's when, on that day months after the final blast, they discover him stark naked in front of an oven and curled in on himself as if he tried to make himself smaller or covet all the warmth he could find, his single arm wrapped around his middle defensively.
Kaneda and Kei barely breathe as one, frozen on the spot. Lead encases her stomach while something in her chest constricts. Her gaze flickers to Kaneda, the ghostly pallor of his face, his adam's apple bobbing to swallow past the lump in his throat. Her heart lurches.
"Tet...suo?" The softness of his voice is a sound she's only found in the shelter of darkness that swallows them whole. Complete.
[But it isn't something to fear]
He takes a step when Kei can't, where terrorconfusionfinality roots her to the spot. She can't find her voice, not even when Kaneda places a hand on Tetsuo's shoulder after a moment's hesitation, jostles the once second in command of the sham of an empire, calls him quietly. Tetsuo's eyelids don't even twitch. Deep under the influence of sleep or a coma [magical mystic coma??? It's been months but he doesn't appear to be starving or hurt, what the fuck, the universe?], breaths shallow puffs from his lips.
Finally Kaneda straightens, fixes those wide eyes on her. "So what the fuck is this?"
She wrings her hands helplessly, her mouth dry like she's had a shitty jaunt at the dentist. "I don't know." But the words are turning over and over and over in her head this is our thanks this is our thanks this is our thanks this is-
[If this is the other shoe dropping she's not sure how to take it] Finally she adds, "He could be dangerous." That was the case that held when he was mutated and strong and absorbing everything in his path faster than a wild fire and when he was incoherent and grasping, struggling to stay rooted to the Earth. Here, naked as the day he was born, dark curtain of hair around his slackened face, curled in the fetal position, he could be dangerous too.
[He doesn't feel the same. The sickness and decay are there, yes, but it's different. Not as concentrated.]
[Is her fear, shifting to the background with every passing moment, leftovers from Before or a very real warning?]
[This is our thanks.]
Though he's stricken by his own whirlwind of emotions the expression Kaneda shoots her is familiar despite how shaken he looks. [Dark eyes linger on what remains of Tetsuo's arm] It's calling bullshit as always, Kei's pretty sure he was born with sarcasm spooned to him from day one. But it's a look that never underestimates her. Questioning comes as natural as breathing to him, but not about her. The situation, the plan, the odds.
[He's never questioned her ability. Not her.] "No shit. But if we leave him here I don't know if I can ever believe this wasn't just some fucked up dream."
[No, that's not true. The instant they felt him Kaneda knew he was real. Knew it right in his gut. He doesn't want to admit he wouldn't be able to sleep at night if he left Tetsuo behind]
Kei's wary, Kaneda isn't so swayed by the strange reunion and his own relief that he isn't either, however despite that they decide to take him with. They aren't so screwed as to have zero means of communicating with their various allies by now and it isn't long before they get word to Joker to get someone in the area to lend them some wheels.
["Interest, you little fuck! Just because you helped save the world doesn't mean you're hot shit. Doesn't mean I forgot 'bout what you owe me, neither. You owe me big."
"You'd think after fighting in a war together some people would learn 'bout a little thing called comradely! You're still one cheap bastard. Those bikes were pieces of shit too."]
In the meantime Kaneda and Kei set up a routine to care for their unconscious companion. No matter what they did Tetsuo wouldn't awaken. Bathing him, clothing him, moving him from room to room while they waited for the inevitable fallout once Joker's crew reached them, making him comfortable, talking to him.
[Kei spent many nights pretending to be none the wiser to Kaneda's conspiring whispers of old times and new ones unfolding before them, long fingers carding through dark locks in need of a trim]
[She spent many more days pretending she didn't whisper in Tetsuo's ear about anything from old high school stories to threats, don't break his heart again, to promises of food they haven't tasted in months if he just woke up okay, not splintered in a million pieces]
The day Tetsuo opened his eyes was the same day Joker's crew came; a loud, messy group with unbelievable tales and paint as ridiculous and impressionable as their leader splattered across their faces by careful hands. They were good with mechanics, though, ready to lend a helping hand and overlook their leader's ire in the face of the saviors of the goddamn world. Or something.
[Kei didn't really get it. Kaneda absorbed it like a sponge. And Tetsuo-]
Grey eyes shutter open in order to pin Kei with a dead eyed, empty stare that freezes the air in her lungs. Her fingers in his hair still.
When she finds her voice again it's to realize she's been screaming for Kaneda-- shrill and earth shattering but not. Scared.
There's nothing behind Tetsuo's expression. Not recognition, not anger lacing up his spine like hard water rust on pipes, not those last few moments of naked terror on his face. Not even when Kaneda, choked by tears he'll deny much, much later, calls his name and clutches Tetsuo to his chest.
[There's joy, warm and foreign in Kei's chest, something she'll file away later]
But there's nothing. Until there's something. But that's left for later when Joker's crew leave, denial about shitting their pants over the bizarre behavior of their saviors echoes in their midst.
This is our thanks.
theres more for this later
like tetsuo fucking....coming to and being angry and terrified and ot3-ing the fuck outta life gradually but not so gradually that they dont notice
so i tried
and i kinda like it
She recognizes the voices spilling across the synapses of her mind instantly, muscle memory splayed right there in the grey matter. They aren't something she'd made an effort to escape regardless, not when it came down to the wire, not back then. Not now.
He's here hes here here he's here he is here he's here right there he's here-
The rush and meld of the words, faster than Kaneda's bike, faster than any shower of gun fire fills her head with images to accompany the fray; familiar conversations and faces, events that still lock her body, powerful now, powerful from the start, with terror--
[The screams of agony and the brush strokes of blood always looping with happy faces, fury, cheekiness, and always back to him]
When Kei is finally released from the psychic hold of sensation she jack knifes up in bed [if you can call the nest of blankets and futons anything but] in a cold sweat, a location burning the backs of her eyelids and four words lingering.
[This is our thanks.]
Full lips thinning into a narrow line, trembling to withhold the gasps for air she shouldn't need, Kei exhales sharply through her nose instead, lets her eyes adjust to the darkness of the room. Kaneda is a comforting warmth sprawled beside her, one arm across her lap where it slid upon her rude awakening. Thankfully this incident didn't disturb him.
[They're far used to being woken shaken and howling, able to do nothing for precious moments but hold each other close, feel their breaths mingle and know they made it]
Her fingers aren't even shaking as much when she skates them down his arm, traces those knuckles powerful enough to punch fellow survivors into a pulp for the last bit of food but gentle enough to hold her in the dead of night when even the stars' light seems to forsake them. Her eyes flicker from his hands to his face, slack and peaceful in sleep. Younger than the few years under his belt that still hardened him. He deserves a few more hours rest. And she....she needs to figure out where to go on from here.
[Isn't that the question of the century? The new motto of the land of the rising sun? The sun will continue to rise now but will the people? What now, what now, what now?]
[It feels a little less like gravity's trying to crush you to the soil and welcome you back to Earth's embrace if you first focus on food, shelter, warmth, she's figured out pretty quickly]
Back then, what feels like years ago when it's only been months, maybe, she hadn't hesitated very long to do what was right. Because she was the only one. The instructions, as mad and impossible as they were, were a lot more clear cut than this cryptic shit.
Who was here? Akira? The other kids? Something else? Was she to find whatever it is and take out an impending threat? Observe? Seriously, what the hell.
Forgoing the urge to rip out her hair in frustration Kei rubs the start of a headache at her temples instead, then jumps in surprise when the anchor across her lap moves to tiptoe warm fingers across her hip and up her belly. She casts her gaze [annoyed and grateful and annoyed] on Kaneda's face, no longer relaxed in sleep. It still clings to the grogginess painted in those dark eyes, the heavy drag of eyelids across those orbs, but his mouth is curled into a grin much too mischievous for so early in the morning.
"Whassa matter?" His voice rumbles where he's pressed against her side, goosebumps which would normally be welcome lancing across her skin reminding her of the scant bits of peace they'd had until now. [She had a feeling....]
"I had a dream." There's no use lying. It's the truth after all, both of them privy to frequent ones as of late.
His mouth pulls into that sloppy shit eating leer, the one she knows the feeling of pressed into the juncture between her shoulder and her neck, and the feeling of it splitting beneath her fist with a satisfying crunch.
"Why didntcha say so? Why dream of me when the real thing's here and ready for ya." Ah yes, there's that satisfying sound now, the sound of her hand meeting his face, shoving him back into the futons.
[But with it comes the satisfaction of the tense set of her shoulders unraveling bullshit by bullshit.]
"Not that kind. The "mystical bullshit" kind." Kei will actually admit to the disappointment that comes from watching the jovial expression drain from his face.
"You don't say. Collect call charges gotta be a bitch from the other side." Though his words come out as playful there's a firm, no nonsense look in his eyes she knows she can't escape. And, without prompting, she answers the questions swirling in his eyes.
"Apparently I'm picking up the charges. I've got another job to do. And this time I don't exactly know what it is. But I know where." Her gaze cuts to the hard line of his body beside her, strong shoulders that carried half of the weight of the world with her. "You can stay here and watch the fort while I'm gone." It's halfhearted at best, half knowing he'll follow her to the end of the earth and half recognizes she doesn't want to do this alone.
A rude snort and arms winding around her waist, pulling her into his warmth, the roar of his heartbeat against her nearly in synch with her own anxious beat, are her reward. "What, and let you wipe out without me? Not a goddamn chance."
A surge of affection rushes through her along with his face in her hair.
"Besides..." The fingers he thinks are sneakily cupping her breast stop that fondness double time.
[Well, there's still something fond about crushing his fingers just to hear him yelp]
So when light begins to splinter along the horizon, bringing with it hues of pink and gold, beauty that once seemed lost to this land, they pack their meager provisions and set out into the empty city. Hours of dust trailing in their wake and few and far between fellow refugees either begging for help or shielding away from the very real potential of dangerous newcomers are their companions along the way, Kaneda's arms snug around her waist [like they belong there] where he sits behind her, content to let her piece together the visions of her message and set the path.
[He trusts her, something she hasn't bothered to question because why should she? As much as they argue and clash and burn hotter than molten lava they also fit into place, jarring each other but never untangling or hindering]
It's four days of camping out in scalped ruins of buildings and under the stars later and going on evening time if the position of the sun and the cast of it's rays are any indication when Kei feels him. It's like she's stuck a fork into a wall socket and come away with her nerve endings burnt and tingling, oversensitive, a crackle of electricity rockets through her veins and sets in a prickle at the back of her neck.
[The scent of sickness, decay and medicine and strangely enough, bike oil and leather gloves clings to her nostrils]
Maybe Kaneda feels something like it at his very core as well or maybe Kei's a medium through and through, the sensations filtering into him because he sits stock still behind her in the very same instant, thighs that have bracketed hers for days suddenly trembling. Anxiety's been flipped on like a switch, his heart thunders against her back.
They scramble off the bike once Kei kills the engine, somehow they curb the impulse to jump, engine gunning and everything, which has got to count for something, right? The end of this journey finds them staring right through the crumbled remnants of what used to be a restaurant. There had been a firefight here recently, scorch marks diving up the walls and bullet holes riddled the floor and ceiling a sure sign as Kei and Kaneda make their way through a sea of toppled tables and remnants of old camps. There's even half of a couch turned on its side in the break room.
The feel and the smell of him calls to her from the kitchen and that's where they're drawn, heavy step by step. That's when, on that day months after the final blast, they discover him stark naked in front of an oven and curled in on himself as if he tried to make himself smaller or covet all the warmth he could find, his single arm wrapped around his middle defensively.
Kaneda and Kei barely breathe as one, frozen on the spot. Lead encases her stomach while something in her chest constricts. Her gaze flickers to Kaneda, the ghostly pallor of his face, his adam's apple bobbing to swallow past the lump in his throat. Her heart lurches.
"Tet...suo?" The softness of his voice is a sound she's only found in the shelter of darkness that swallows them whole. Complete.
[But it isn't something to fear]
He takes a step when Kei can't, where terrorconfusionfinality roots her to the spot. She can't find her voice, not even when Kaneda places a hand on Tetsuo's shoulder after a moment's hesitation, jostles the once second in command of the sham of an empire, calls him quietly. Tetsuo's eyelids don't even twitch. Deep under the influence of sleep or a coma [magical mystic coma??? It's been months but he doesn't appear to be starving or hurt, what the fuck, the universe?], breaths shallow puffs from his lips.
Finally Kaneda straightens, fixes those wide eyes on her. "So what the fuck is this?"
She wrings her hands helplessly, her mouth dry like she's had a shitty jaunt at the dentist. "I don't know." But the words are turning over and over and over in her head this is our thanks this is our thanks this is our thanks this is-
[If this is the other shoe dropping she's not sure how to take it] Finally she adds, "He could be dangerous." That was the case that held when he was mutated and strong and absorbing everything in his path faster than a wild fire and when he was incoherent and grasping, struggling to stay rooted to the Earth. Here, naked as the day he was born, dark curtain of hair around his slackened face, curled in the fetal position, he could be dangerous too.
[He doesn't feel the same. The sickness and decay are there, yes, but it's different. Not as concentrated.]
[Is her fear, shifting to the background with every passing moment, leftovers from Before or a very real warning?]
[This is our thanks.]
Though he's stricken by his own whirlwind of emotions the expression Kaneda shoots her is familiar despite how shaken he looks. [Dark eyes linger on what remains of Tetsuo's arm] It's calling bullshit as always, Kei's pretty sure he was born with sarcasm spooned to him from day one. But it's a look that never underestimates her. Questioning comes as natural as breathing to him, but not about her. The situation, the plan, the odds.
[He's never questioned her ability. Not her.] "No shit. But if we leave him here I don't know if I can ever believe this wasn't just some fucked up dream."
[No, that's not true. The instant they felt him Kaneda knew he was real. Knew it right in his gut. He doesn't want to admit he wouldn't be able to sleep at night if he left Tetsuo behind]
Kei's wary, Kaneda isn't so swayed by the strange reunion and his own relief that he isn't either, however despite that they decide to take him with. They aren't so screwed as to have zero means of communicating with their various allies by now and it isn't long before they get word to Joker to get someone in the area to lend them some wheels.
["Interest, you little fuck! Just because you helped save the world doesn't mean you're hot shit. Doesn't mean I forgot 'bout what you owe me, neither. You owe me big."
"You'd think after fighting in a war together some people would learn 'bout a little thing called comradely! You're still one cheap bastard. Those bikes were pieces of shit too."]
In the meantime Kaneda and Kei set up a routine to care for their unconscious companion. No matter what they did Tetsuo wouldn't awaken. Bathing him, clothing him, moving him from room to room while they waited for the inevitable fallout once Joker's crew reached them, making him comfortable, talking to him.
[Kei spent many nights pretending to be none the wiser to Kaneda's conspiring whispers of old times and new ones unfolding before them, long fingers carding through dark locks in need of a trim]
[She spent many more days pretending she didn't whisper in Tetsuo's ear about anything from old high school stories to threats, don't break his heart again, to promises of food they haven't tasted in months if he just woke up okay, not splintered in a million pieces]
The day Tetsuo opened his eyes was the same day Joker's crew came; a loud, messy group with unbelievable tales and paint as ridiculous and impressionable as their leader splattered across their faces by careful hands. They were good with mechanics, though, ready to lend a helping hand and overlook their leader's ire in the face of the saviors of the goddamn world. Or something.
[Kei didn't really get it. Kaneda absorbed it like a sponge. And Tetsuo-]
Grey eyes shutter open in order to pin Kei with a dead eyed, empty stare that freezes the air in her lungs. Her fingers in his hair still.
When she finds her voice again it's to realize she's been screaming for Kaneda-- shrill and earth shattering but not. Scared.
There's nothing behind Tetsuo's expression. Not recognition, not anger lacing up his spine like hard water rust on pipes, not those last few moments of naked terror on his face. Not even when Kaneda, choked by tears he'll deny much, much later, calls his name and clutches Tetsuo to his chest.
[There's joy, warm and foreign in Kei's chest, something she'll file away later]
But there's nothing. Until there's something. But that's left for later when Joker's crew leave, denial about shitting their pants over the bizarre behavior of their saviors echoes in their midst.
This is our thanks.
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