Chapter Twelve
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"... all right, I got it... careful, I got it...."
The mechanic murmured softly to himself, slowly setting down the enormous metal plate he had finally unhinged, stretching the aches and pains out of his shoulders, turning his eyes toward the sparkling lake in front of him, the sun still poised, just above the horizon.
"Beautiful day... just beautiful..."
After a few moments, the man finally noticed that he wasn't alone, a small child was watching the sunrise with him, leaning just slightly against the side of the garage wall. The man swallowed past a sudden lump of nervousness, reminding himself that the boy was just a boy, that there was nothing to be afraid of - even though he knew the child belonged to SEELE, and so, was much more than any mere child could be - and steadied himself to speak...
//He likes you. You talk to him all the time. Be an adult, you know it must be really hard for him, being treated like he's different all the time.//
/... because he /is/ different, probably even more than you could imagine./
"Good morning."
The mechanic paused at the quiet greeting, the boy beating him to it, and finally remembered to close his mouth, chuckling as the tension was broken.
//It's sad, though, that he always has to be the one to do it.//
"Good morning, then, little Kaworu?"
The mechanic's grasp of German was rough at best, he was Norwegian, brought in for his mechanical skill only a year or so ago, expected to be fast, strong, and not eloquent. The young boy never seemed to mind his uneven speech, and the one time he had accidentally slipped back to his native tongue, he was startled to find the child following him, using the other language immediately, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do.
//I almost want to ask him, if he even knows... just what /are/ you, boy? Why does SEELE keep such a close eye on you, and yet let you wander almost freely?//
He knew the answer to that, the only answer there could be, for a massive power such as SEELE - of which he had seen mere glimpses - to bend to the needs of a child.
They were afraid of this boy, at least enough so to let him do mostly as he pleased, though the mechanic still hadn't seen any signs as to why... The pale-haired child was much like any other, quieter, yes, but the man himself had grown up with many friends like that, amicable but simply not outgoing. What was it, then, why was Kaworu so special?
//Why am I nervous around him, even after all this time...//
The mechanic was so caught up in his thoughts, it took him a while to realize the boy hadn't answered, still staring out across the water.
"It will look like this... when he comes for me, when one of us will decide the future for all, and one of us will die."
"Kaworu?
The last part of the boy's words had been nearly swallowed, spoken so softly the man didn't know if he had heard it correctly. He assumed he hadn't, as the young child looked up with one of his usual smiles - warm, startlingly mature and confident - the light from the sun managing to catch quite deep in his ruby eyes.
"What are you doing?"
The mechanic shook his confusion off, quickly returning to his task. SEELE may have been strangely lax on the child, but he knew they would not tolerate any delays from him - whatever their plans.
"Just reattaching the main clamp to a hydraulic arm that broke earlier, nothing too fascinating..."
The mechanic returned the pale-haired child's strange smile, shrugged, wiping his hands on his already oily overalls as he moved back to his work. It was skilled labor, but once one had learned all of the parts and pieces, how to take apart and rebuild the strange machinery SEELE used for whatever reasons - he didn't ask, he didn't /really/ want to know - it wasn't difficult, or demanding, and this wasn't nearly the first time the boy had come to visit him.
The mechanic could hear the child's footsteps behind him - light, nearly inaudible - and smiled...
//Inquisitive. He's so curious...//
"I'm afraid it's rather dull work, little Kaworu. Wouldn't you rather go play?"
"I've never seen a machine like this before..."
The boy was staring at it with an intense concentration, completely focused, as if it were a work of art on many levels, and not a rather ugly, unimpressive piece of metal, nearly junk. It was the way the pale-haired child looked at anything, anyone, as if reading the whole, the essence of the thing, and all the subtle nuance all at once. It had also nearly knocked the mechanic over, the first time it had been directed at him.
Kaworu continued to watch silently, as the mechanic pulled himself back underneath the low arch of the arm, never making a sound as the dull, repetitive work progressed, not backing away as the man began welding, ignoring the flying sparks, the potential danger, until the mechanic demanded he sit on a nearby stoop... and even still, the boy kept watching.
//Voracious for it... but for what, exactly? What in the world is so interesting about a man fixing a pipe?//
He was rather happy for the silent company though, especially as he finished his work, and pulled two lemonades from a nearby cooler, throwing one to the still-sitting boy. Any other child, he would have handed it to, but something told him there was no reason not to treat Kaworu this way, that there was no pass he could attempt that the boy wouldn't have been able to catch.
The man felt a bit guilty for being grateful for the child's presence, couldn't help but like having him around. It was lonely, he was the one in charge of the mechanics around him, and also the only foreigner from his land, and the combination usually kept him isolated... and even though he and the boy didn't talk much, it was still nice, just to know someone else was nearby.
The mechanic wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve, pressed the can against his forehead for a moment.
"... ahhh... that's good."
"Pleasure, from pain... it wouldn't be as good now, if you hadn't gone through all that hard work and discomfort first?"
The mechanic startled slightly at the soft query, Kaworu watching him for a reaction. The boy had such an odd way of speaking sometimes. The man had never heard a philosopher talk before, but he thought the child must have been one, or one in the making, especially with the way he examined words, and truths, speaking his words so carefully, as if picking them apart letter by letter for a glimpse of something more within.
"Yeah, something like that... I guess."
The mechanic was no such thinker, and that kind of talk shook him just a little. He found it very strange, almost unnerving, especially from someone so young. A high, loud laugh interrupted his thoughts, he looked up, across the grass beyond the curve of the garage wall. A red-haired girl was playing there, chattering in loud, proud tones to another one of the SEELE employees, who was quietly indulging the child in her confident, knowing statements of all the world around her, brilliant theories from the timeless wisdom of a grade-schooler.
//The girl needs a little less of a listening ear, and a few more teachers, if you ask me...// The mechanic did not dislike the brash redhead, but knew from watching others if not from experience, how harsh life could be for the headstrong.
//If someone doesn't pull her off that high horse before she reaches the real world, she'll fall... and fall hard.//
"Do you know who that is?" He pointed, though the boy was already watching. "That's the second child... Asuka Langly Soryuu." He knew the name, they all did, the girl most believed was their last, best hope for the future. "Why don't you go play with her, little Kaworu?"
The man smiled, turning... but the smile fell away at the focused concentration on the boy's face. The sense of peace and silence in those ruby eyes was always unsettling, but there was a flicker of something even more frightening beneath, an emotion in the ruby haze, as he gazed at the girl playing beneath the sunshine, something unimaginably vast, and completely inhuman.
"No, she's... not mine."
... and the pale-haired child smiled.
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Kaworu could hear Misato's steady breathing, felt the gun tremble against his skin. He knew it was not from fear or panic, but all-encompassing rage. The pale-haired man calmly raised his hands, though they both knew the gesture was purely symbolic.
"Are you going to shoot me now, Misato-san?"
The woman's voice was a barely controlled scream, kept down solely to avoid disturbing Asuka.
"What did you do to Shinji!?"
The woman knew, knew instantly, instinctively, that he would seek out the Third Child first.
Very slowly, Kaworu turned, taking careful, even steps, keeping his hands up and motionless as he did so, until he was looking down the barrel of the gun, and then up, into eyes heavy with hate and worry.
"I did nothing. I could never hurt him."
"Liar!" The gun tipped ever so slightly forward - there was obviously very little that was keeping her from pulling the trigger. Misato was an avenging angel all her own, wanting only vengeance, to make him hurt as he had wounded her, by attacking Shinji all those years ago.
"If I thought it would make things better, if I thought it meant I could atone, for what I did, I would let you nail me to that cross, Misato-san. Gladly."
"Shut up. Just shut. The fuck. Up." The woman growled, kept her eyes on him and the gun raised as she took a few steps back, pulled a fifth from the counter without ever having to look, taking a long drink of whiskey, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she slammed the bottle on the table.
"So many good people died because of you. You and your fucking kind, your fucking /angels/." The dark-haired woman reached beneath the collar of her shirt, pulled out a small, metal block cross, holding it tight in her hand, meeting his gaze without blinking, her eyes like coals or coffee grounds, burnt, bitter, dead...
"It is just beginning, and more will die, before this is resolved, I think. SEELE is coming, Misato-san, for you... and your broken pilot."
Misato blinked, he could see her pale, dry empty eyes infused with shock, terror, confusion - liquid lightning.
"... more Angels."
It was a question, spoken as fact.
"Yes."
Kaworu watched, as her eyes flicked suddenly toward the door, he knew she was thinking of Asuka, as if his warning had been some signal, at any moment the sound of engines, dark cars with tinted windows, helicopters, would descend upon them like a flock of birds, tearing the girl away, spiriting her like Persephone, back to the underworld.
"Asuka can't fight any Angels, any /anything/, she's been... crippled... for years."
Inside and out, unable to pilot an Eva, unable to stand, let alone walk, and inside her mind, nearly unable to live.
"SEELE cares if she is further injured? If they can find a way, to make it possible, do they really care what it will do to the one forced to pilot?"
Misato flinched, knew they were no longer talking about Asuka. The gun lowered slowly to her side.
"I-I did my best to make him strong. It was the most important thing, that Shinji was strong, because it would keep him safe, it would keep him alive."
"Did it really?"
The gun snapped up, rising along with her voice.
"He was fighting against things like /you/, and you wanted to destroy us! It was a /war/, there was no time for mercy, no time for weakness. You... you... don't you /dare/ judge us! You might look human, but you have /no/ idea, you know /nothing/ about..." she swallowed, searching for words past the fury, "It was the /only way/! Making him hard, making him strong was all that might have, /might have/ actually seen him to the other side of all that fucking /madness/, and you goddamn well /know it/!"
"Perhaps." If Kaworu's purpose had once been to judge, it was no longer so, blaming her for the past brought him no closer to his desired future.
Misato struggled with lowering the gun, a hard sort of curiosity shining in her eyes, her voice no longer as angry as it had been. "Why are you here? Why tell us anything at all?"
"Shinji cared for you. I do not want to see him suffer anymore, and if he knew something happened to you, he would."
Misato tried to speak, found she could not, and finally seemed to realize the futility of holding the angel at gunpoint, turning to the window instead.
"I did my best to protect him. No matter what you may think of me, I always tried to keep him safe... is he safe now? Has SEELE... /how/ has SEELE...?"
"Men from the United States, unnoticed by their counterparts in the rest of the world, by Gendo Ikari and NERV when the rest of it was destroyed... they are responsible for this revival. Shinji... he is working for them now."
"I kept away to save him from that..." the woman's features hardened, voice dropping to a strangled whisper, "I thought, even if they found me, he would be safe, so I kept away..." The dark-haired woman closed her eyes, very tightly, as if she were betraying her deepest nature.
"... you know he loved you," she murmured, each word exacting a deep price, "You crushed... more than what he did to you... you..."
"He will be fine. You don't have to worry, Misato-san. I will protect him from now on."
Misato's eyes widened once more, dark brows drawing down into an expression of pure fury. The woman turned.
"Like /hell/ you..."
The rest of her sentence dissolved into bitter cursing. Kaworu was already gone.
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"Shinji... Shinji, can you hear me?"
Shaking, someone was shaking him hard. Shinji groaned, or thought he did, trying his best to pull away, finding it impossible to do so. He was irritated with the worry in the high-pitched voice. Couldn't Misato see he was trying to sleep, that he was exhausted?
//Another Angel? Send Rei, she can handle it, or Asuka, she'd love the chance to show me up... I can't... I can't do it again, not this soon...//
The thought slowly echoed through his mind, and a thousand questions rose quickly in its passing. Angels? How could he be fighting angels now? It didn't make any sense...
/... and Rei is dead./
He cringed away from that thought, hiding in the darkness behind his eyes.
//... don't want to think, don't /want/... just let me sleep...//
The shaking stopped, but the voices continued somewhere above him, high and low echoing back and forth over his head.
"I can't get him to wake up... what should we do?"
"I don't know... I don't think..."
The rumbling voice confused him even more, skeletal fingers of confusion dragging him towards consciousness. Kaji? Kaji with Misato... that made sense, or at least it would have...
//... but Kaji is dead.//
/They're all dead./
The thought should have bit deeper, tearing into him as it usually did, but this time it was blunted by the sweet haze of a dream that hadn't quite faded... Shinji ignored the still-speaking voices, searching deeper for a dream, he had been dreaming something sweet...
Kaworu. Kaworu had been there... and Shinji had dreamed of that day, the darkest day, in the center of Terminal Dogma, when he had held the other boy in that gentle, lethal grasp...
// - and I let go, and he /didn't/ merge with Adam... and we just... skipped out.//
Shinji couldn't help but laugh at the image, the beauty of dream logic, that he hadn't wanted to kill Kaworu, and the angel hadn't wanted to make him, and so they /hadn't/ had to do anything, just joined hands and walked away from the entire mess, leaving NERV and SEELE and God himself to do what they would without them.
//I gave my father the finger, too, I think... I /remember/ that part.//
The laugh, unlike his earlier protests, must have reached the waking world. The conversation above him abruptly stopped, he could feel someone moving closer.
"Shinji? Shinji, can you hear me? Come on... wake up, please..."
//Misato... no... no, it's... wait, it's...//
"... Brigid?" He mumbled stupidly, slowly sitting up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Shinji looked down for a moment at his own bare chest - funny, he hadn't remembered even having the energy to /think/ of unbuttoning it - and then up at his co-worker, surprised at the panic on her face. Ben was standing behind her, arms crossed, watching him, a surprising amount of concern in his expression as well.
"What... what's going on?"
The words took surprising effort, and it still felt as if a brick was pressing down on his chest, sapping all the strength of his other limbs as he tried to sit up. Shinji closed his eyes for a moment as the night came back to him in full - the fight with the Angel, Geburah, the tape - and a flood of emotions that might have sent him into panic, or tears, if he hadn't still been so exhausted. The dark-haired man swallowed hard instead, moving his hand to the table to catch the remote control, and turn off the TV, though the dark screen revealed nothing.
"Shinji? Are you all right? How are you feeling?"
Brigid was hovering a few paces away from him, hands gently wringing together, too much of a friend to stay away, but not close enough to know how to act, how near she was allowed to be. Shinji knew he was staring at her, the words seeming to take a long time to filter properly to his ears, and just as long to go back out as a reply.
"What? What are you talking about?"
"You weren't at work." Ben finally said from the end of the couch. "We were worried about you. The super let us in when she realized she hadn't seen you either."
It was hard to keep up any kind of conversation with his head spinning the way it was, and Shinji realized he was both ravenous and terribly thirsty. He looked up at Ben to ask for water, and the other man nodded before he could even speak, disappearing back down the hall. Shinji heard the sound of the tap running, tried to focus his attention on Brigid, couldn't believe she was so worried about him, not over one day, when he had already called...
"Yeah... I told Vara I wouldn't be in today, I figured she'd tell you..."
"Shinji..." Brigid's expression was a mix of worry and disbelief. "... that was three days ago!"
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It took him a good half-hour to convince Brigid and Ben that he was all right, mostly because Shinji didn't believe it himself. Everything ached, and he still wanted nothing more than to lay down and sleep, possibly forever...
//... but if it's three days... that means... and the concert's /tomorrow/.//
He had forgotten all about it, pushed it away as something to worry about after he'd dealt with SEELE, though that didn't seem to be an option anymore.
Shinji was the first chair pretty much by default in the small orchestra - no one was anywhere near good enough to match him - and it wasn't usually that difficult to learn his pieces, if he didn't know them already... but this time...
The man who had assembled the mostly volunteer group had managed to secure the attention of some city official for the night, a rare opportunity for the orchestra to shine. Playing well at this concert could mean increased funds for their group, better instruments for those who needed them, full-time jobs for some... Shinji may have been happy as a florist, may have had all the money he'd ever need without the job, but he understood what it must have meant for some of the other musicians, to dream of a future of only the orchestra.
//... just like that girl on the bridge... even though I'm still alive, I know what it must have been like, to realize there was nothing left... but death... oh god, I could have saved them, if I had only been...//
/Stronger./
/Faster./
/Not Shinji./
He collapsed into the kitchen chair, less than five paces from the couch, head in his hands.
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."
Of course, there was no one to hear him, only the wind rustling outside, teasing at the corners of his shirt... Shinji looked down, surprised to see bare skin... he swore he hadn't thought - hadn't been able - to unbutton it last night, and the marks against his flesh barely hurt as he touched them... carefully traced one of the light pink smudges with a fingertip, and shivered...
//... Shinji...//
The dark-haired man gasped at the soft whisper in his mind, scrambling away from the table, immediately realizing how silly it was, running from a /thought/, of all things...
//... but it was... his voice, and it feels... as if he's so close... it's like I'm being haunted.//
He smiled slightly at the absurd thought... until the wind brushed against his cheek, carrying the scent of flowers, and the promises they held.
"God..." Shinji collapsed back in the chair, a tiny voice taking note that he was in the middle of an excellent dramatic breakdown, but judging him rather poorly on his voice projection and overall lackluster execution...
"God, I'm going crazy..." The blossoms bobbed their colorful heads in another world, unconcerned with him or his fears. "I'm going completely crazy... to think... that he's alive."
He had two choices, perfectly clear, to break and go mad, or to push on with his life, do what he could to live with what would come. It sounded painful to push forward, absent of reward, and with all he had been through in the last few days, with all the potential horrors to come, insanity seemed like a fairly safe place to be.
//No... I can't... I /won't/...//
He wouldn't... what? Be like Asuka? Give up like Asuka? ... but she hadn't really given up, had she? Asuka fell in battle, like a soldier, a warrior, there was no shame in it. It was so easy to judge her, wasn't it, when all he had ever done, given the chance, was turn tail and run...
//I couldn't... I didn't...//
/... going crazy.../
Shinji pushed the thoughts at bay the only way he knew how, the only way that had ever worked - quickly pulling his chair to the center of the room, dragging his cello slightly across the floor, too weak to lift it fully.
//I can't fight like that again... not when I feel like this, not with the way it used me up... I won't make it through another battle like that.//
/... and it can only get worse. The Angels were always stronger as they kept coming, /always/... it can only... get worse./
Shinji threw himself into playing, and every thought, every ache, every pang of his empty stomach was still there, but he could stay distant, step away from them and into the music - it was cliche, but true, that no one could touch him within the melody, he was safe...
//SEELE didn't destroy the Evas, did they? NERV did... and your father... your father killed your mother, didn't he.//
The man's hand never trembled on the strings, Shinji flying through the measures of the piece effortlessly, smoothly moving from the coda of one to the next without pause, and the thought was gone, smoothing down until it was nothing more than another layer of guilt across his heart, softer than snow...
//I don't know what to do... I... there's no one, no one to help me, no Misato, no Rei.//
... not even Gendo Ikari.
Cate had set his plans in stone, far in advance of this day, planned for Shinji's arrival before the other man had even a hint of his presence... he could do nothing to the leader of SEELE without the suit, and /with/ it...
//Well, he planned for that too, now didn't he?//
Shinji half-wondered why he was still alive, once he had seen Geburah, knew of the greater plan. Cate was not a man to keep his word, to care for honor or treaty, and Shinji had no doubt the man would kill him without blinking twice...
//... but he's probably unsure, if Asuka can take the strain of piloting again... and, those orbs...//
The cold, the pain in his chest had returned somewhat, a phantom ache inside his chest, hovering where the orb had rested against his back. The Dominion's power source /wasn't/ safe for him to carry, Shinji was sure of it... perhaps Cate simply wanted to use him up, then, to see how far he could manage before he died on his own.
The new piece of music lay at his feet, Shinji melted his song into those notes with ease, unsurprised by their melancholy and sadness, that this piece was his to play alone. Was his sorrow really /that/ obvious, to even the orchestra?
//... when you say nothing to any of them if not asked directly? When you're always the first one out the door, even at the after party, the best celebrations?//
Regret, sorrow... but in a way it was comforting as well, full of old memories, full of his /life/...
... and it was his tribute to what he had lost, a promise that he would never forget, simply because it hurt, never let go of any of them... not Rei, or Ritsuko, or Kaji...
//... or Kaworu. I could never let go... if I even knew /how/ to forget him.//
Shinji played - always - with the Angel's blood on his hands, dragging the high notes up like razors against his soul, the music an eloquent, extended scream, the only way he could find even some release. He let the song take him, traced a path of memory through the notes, a lost joy to match each plaintive draw across the strings... and hope? There was hope at the end of the piece, a promise so well known, well-loved, that life could not be cruel forever... but this was the music in Shinji's heart, and in his heart that joy was a faint echo of the untouchable, a will o' wisp dancing forever beyond his reach.
He felt no better when he finally had to stop, slowly placing the cello back against the wall, half-heartedly making himself a sandwich and stepping onto his small apartment balcony. He was still tired, aching and sore... and SEELE could call on him at any moment, any time...
A sniffle caught his attention, Shinji turned to see a young woman watching him, a new next-door neighbor he hadn't ever said more than a few words to... and there were tears in her eyes.
"The people who used to live here... I didn't believe them, when they said they left because of the music, because it was so sad." She smiled, but it was a bit wobbly. "Warn me before you do that again, all right?"
The woman disappeared inside before he could come up with an apology, and Shinji was once again alone.