This one goes out to the one I love
This one goes out to the one I've left behind
A simple prop, to occupy my time
This one goes out to the one I love
R.E.M - The One I Love
Chapter Fourteen
---------------------------------
"I've been told to collect you."
Shinji was surprised to feel, not shock or anger, but a strange sense of relief. He'd been fearing this moment all day, and now it came as if inevitable, and it seemed completely inconsequential.
"Are you alone?"
Toby seemed unimpressed with the question, looked as burnt out as he felt.
"Yes."
"Oh."
Shinji calmly turned up the stairs, walked to his room, every step negating all the orders he'd ever been given, the military training to follow orders he now refused simply to listen to - he nearly giggled like a small child at the freedom in it.
He heard the woman follow him, all the way to his bedroom, though she stopped outside the door as he went inside.
"You can come in, trust me, there's nothing to see."
Shinji pulled off his work clothes, hanging them in his nearly empty closet, pulling his dark slacks and white dress shirt, quickly buttoning it up. Toby didn't come in, out of respect or modesty, her voice rising thin and tired from the hall. He wondered if she'd been working nonstop since the fight.
"If I don't return with you, Cate will use Asuka."
"In two hours? Can he even bring her here in that amount of time?" Shinji smiled, buttoning the last button, on his left sleeve. "You really can come in now."
Toby turned the corner, smiled just as he slid on his black suit coat.
"You look fabulous."
"He can't get Asuka, not that soon, can he." Shinji stated it as fact, knew it was true, didn't even need to see Toby's reflection nod in the nearby mirror. He ran a hand through his hair, though it still fell mostly back in his eyes. He realized after a moment, he didn't really care if Toby answered him.
"No," she finally sighed. "He can't."
Shinji reached for his bow tie - apparently his sudden calm and cool collection didn't extend to tying the damn thing - and he was half surprised to feel a hand on his shoulder, a grumbling sound of exasperation.
"Just let me!"
It was odd to be helped, in even this small manner, he had gotten so used to doing things completely on his own. He noticed every movement of Toby's hands as she quickly tied the bow, spending a few moments fussing with his already flat lapels. He knew - they both knew, it couldn't end there, and her hands stayed on his shoulders, as she looked into his eyes.
"Cate will be angry, Shinji."
"Toby, I need this."
He didn't know who she was pleading to, the look of desperation in her eyes was so much more personal than something meant just for him. Who was he to her? What did he represent?
"It's the only thing I have that is... beautiful, anymore. The only thing normal left in my life." Shinji spoke to that look in her eyes, whatever that pain meant. "You understand, don't you?"
"I understand."
Toby's mouth seemed set in a permanent line of worry, gaze already turned inward, trying to think of a plan.
"I can't lie to him. I can't tell him I couldn't find you. He already knows you're here..."
"It's all right, Toby. I'm not afraid of him."
She looked up at him, astonished.
"How can you not be?"
Shinji surprised himself by smiling.
"You never met my father."
----------------------------
"... for long you live and high you fly,
and smiles you'll give and tears you'll cry,
and all you touch and all you see,
is all your life will ever be."
Kaworu tapped one foot slowly along with the music, until the temptation became too much for Virgil, and the dark gray puppy leapt out with a delighted yap, gnawing and tugging on the top knot of his shoelaces.
He smiled at the distraction, playfully pushing the dog away with his toe, Virgil quickly catching onto the game, leaping back on over-large paws, this time preferring to latch his teeth onto the toe, growling in delight as he started in on a single-minded destruction.
Kaworu watched him for another moment, before pulling his foot up and slipping out of the shoe, leaving it completely for Virgil to mangle. He stepped to the small table, one of the only pieces of furniture in the sparsely decorated room, picked up the only bag of three not filled to the brim with CD's - Emily would probably have taken him at his ten-thousand dollar word, had Karen not held her somewhat at bay.
Still, for every CD she picked up, she seemed to find two more bands he "absolutely needed to hear," and he now flipped through a much larger selection than she had initially named - Clapton, the Beatles, Tom Petty - he really /should/ have asked for more than classical at SEELE. It had all survived the Second Impact unscathed, this music an untouchable, unstoppable strength.
//... small wonder Shinji is a musician.//
Kaworu reached into the bag, for the envelope he had put there last, and opened it, surprised to find that he was tense, one finger tapping the edge of the ticket he pulled out.
//I finally get to see him play.//
He could not wait, could not hold back if Cate truly planned to follow through with his plans. Using the Dominion core to power a Lillim-piloted weapon... Kaworu found it quite ironic that he could only describe it as inhuman.
He had erased his records from SEELE's computers, done all he could to destroy his history with them - but it seemed there was no way to avoid meeting them head-on now, there would have to be a direct confrontation. It was simply too dangerous for Shinji to pilot Tiphereth again, and he had been unable to convince even the scientist who most cared for Shinji of the fact.
He regretted that, but it was a small regret, and he was no longer required to stand back and watch things lead to an inexorable conclusion. His was the strongest claim, no one would stop him from regaining what had been lost to him.
Kaworu dropped the ticket back into the bag, picking up a dress shirt instead, eyes closing in a moment of deep contentment as he imagined seeing Shinji in the same - his beautiful Shinji, where he belonged - on the stage, for all the world to see.
If he had been human, Kaworu would have second-guessed the emotion in the air, would have doubted the hope, the happiness.
"... but I'm not human." He closed his eyes, reaching for what he had been feeling for a while now, Shinji's hopes and fears and desires... Kaworu was no longer being pushed away. The promise of fulfilling those silent heart-wishes was sweet on his lips, he could not help but smile.
"The music of your heart... this will be the last time that you will have to play alone."
Humming a few lilting bars of an old favorite, Kaworu pulled the bag into his room to change. Virgil, blissfully unaware that anything of interest was happening, continued to tear his master's shoe to shreds.
--------------------
His friends called him Slade, or at least, they used to. Or at least, the people he used to hang out with called him by the nickname. The dark-haired man couldn't remember any of their names after he'd been let out on parole, he didn't exactly think of them as friends.
Slade scowled as he crossed the midday street, giving a wide berth to a woman with dark-brown skin and almond-shaped eyes, doing her best to console a baby who was at least two shades lighter than she was - oh yes, he noticed things like that. He glared at her from behind, revulsion filling him for reasons he had never quite bothered to sort out into real words.
The man turned off the main street, away from the mob of people - ironic, that he'd never even /asked/ himself why he lived in New York City, surrounding himself by a throng of those he'd hated.
The thin, Asian man who'd bumped into him by accident was little more than a shadow in his mind now, a surprising anomaly to his usual virulent but inactive hate. Slade couldn't really remember why he'd even singled the man out - he'd been drinking, yes, and that bitch Suzanne had kicked him out again - dumb cunt. The man had tried to make a pass at him, or simply tripped and hit his shoulder - the details were fairly blurry...
He might not have stabbed the man, under any other circumstances, but the memory still brought him some pleasure.
//Goddamn fags, worse than animals. If only I could -//
He turned, as something rattled against the pile of crates in the corner of the alley he just passed, probably a pair of cats fighting, or the wind pulling against a board... Slade felt the hair rising on the back of his neck, though he couldn't imagine why, after all he was in the middle of one of the largest cities in America, surrounded by people, how could he -
He'd been staring at the crates, trying to ease his mind though his heart continued to race, that there was no danger in the miniscule shadows... but he was violently jolted from the placid thought as he looked between two of the larger planks - two shining, copper colored eyes -
//Nails, or pennies... a trick of the light...//
- /blinked/ at him from the shadows.
It happened without a sound, before he could even begin to process what he'd seen. Slade felt the pain before anything else, and even that seemed surprised, a stunningly agonizing jolt just above his knee, that peaked, subsided and peaked again, almost questioning whether or not he should even be in pain. He looked down, staring blankly at the near-rust colored spike stretching out from the pile of garbage, and through his upper thigh.
The tremendous crash drew his attention from the impossible sight, as the figment of his imagination rose from the darkness. Its entire body was the same dully gleaming copper, metallic but completely silent, some mixture of bug and armor... it wasn't real, was it? It was some sort of movie creature...?
Slade thought to scream, but his voice barely rose before the creature lumbered forward, slightly unsteady but gaining grace with each step. The man turned to run, forgetting the massive spike still perforating his leg, and the scream died in his throat, overwhelmed by pain. As he reeled back, the man turned, just in time to see an endless number of insectoid legs reaching out for him, the great heavy mass of alien darkness crashing down on him, instantly burying his final attempt to scream.
------------------------
Zacharael needed form, it's current body more or less as Slade had seen it, a suit of armor with no one to fill it. One creature, any creature would be enough, but it was much faster, far superior to have a larger organic mass - a human - especially given the need to divide... more than one enemy would have to be destroyed this day, it would no longer be enough simply to take Adam.
//Tabris.//
It bristled, copper plates twisting into spikes inside and out, and though Zacharael took no notice of it, the human inside whimpered at the sudden pain. Slade was still quite alive, Zacharael could not replicate dead cells, but had been designed with just such a purpose, to use the organic matter - the human body - to its best advantage.
The man was still conscious, as the Dominion divided, tearing his left arm out of the socket in one easy movement, for the necessary material, a pile of shimmering copper plates falling to the alley floor, quickly smoothing, beginning to grow on their own. He was still aware enough to scream, as two smooth metal plates slid down, cracking most of his ribs, the Dominion beginning to seal itself with this new structure, the smaller portion still dividing, nothing but a slave to the larger form.
The mindless drone, with all the power of its host, would be enough to handle Tabris, while Zacharael took Adam, and recovered the core of its fallen brethren.
Slade never had the chance to panic, to wonder why his lungs had filled with liquid, or why he could still breathe, before the Dominion's core punctured through his back, snapping his spine, finding a new home in the coils of his lower intestine. It burned, the physical agony dwarfed by the mental - perhaps even spiritual - annihilation. The man's eyes were as wide as they could go, frozen in a shock beyond pain as the Angel's fire burned away the unnecessary memory, the useless soul.
By the time the golden tendrils reached into his brain, to cement the final connection, there was nothing left but meat in the convenient shape of a man.
------------------------
"Hey... I don't mean to pry, but are you all right?"
Shinji looked up from his careful tuning. He didn't know the name of the second chair who was now watching him, as he tuned his own instrument.
"Mm?"
"Sorry man, you just look a little... spaced out? Everything all right?"
"I guess I'm just a little tired."
He was glad, for the first time in quite a while, that ten years had passed, that he was no longer with anyone in NERV, who would have seen past the lie instantly.
//So much time alone, I never thought I'd grow used to them being there... Misato, Asuka.//
Of course, knowing that they knew he was hurting, and still did nothing to help him was a much more painful agony than the second chair's kindly half-attention.
//I'm no one important... thank god. I'm no one special, not anymore, and the fact that he even asked is more than I could have hoped for.//
No one important... except that Shinji knew he shouldn't have been on the stage, preparing for the concert, but with Toby and SEELE instead. The decision no longer seemed as certain as when he had made it, though Shinji still couldn't imagine having to pilot now, couldn't imagine staying sane if he had to do anything but play.
Cate wouldn't really go after Asuka for this, would he? A two-hour delay? Shinji bowed his head against the neck of his cello, hand tightening painfully around the bow. How hard had he thought, had he even thought, to make the decision he had?
//Or did I run away again? Just like always... who's the only one no one can hope to count on?//
It was too much, there was just too much going on, and all he knew was that it was tearing him up inside, and to stay would be to make an impossible mess of it, how could anyone expect that /he/ could make things better? Didn't they understand, that leaving was the only way he had been sure he could help?
Shinji startled, as he heard the rise of violins, and finally noticed the press of warmth, the orchestra surrounding him, the audience muted, only half-visible beneath the dimmed lights.
The lights raised, the curtain went up, applause pulling in like a slow, steady wave as the conductor moved past him to the front of the stage. Shinji sighed in deep relief, practice and habit replacing worry, the breathy beauty of the woodwinds signaling his moment of entry into the song was approaching... almost... two - one - there.
The music shed all the pain and fear, leaving only vital emotion, the pure and most beautiful, all in his hands, in the instrument he held, the notes he could draw from it, adding his simple strains to a larger, more potent melody, the best any of them had to offer.
Kaworu had been right, music was the best thing humanity had ever managed to create, the only thing it hadn't found some way to tarnish.
The songs flowed from piece to piece with impressive ease. It was mostly original, composed by a local artist, ironically focused around Second Impact, the loss of so many lives, the survival of the human spirit... Shinji let the music buoy him up, thinking only of its beauty, that it had always been the only joy no one could take from him... and very nearly missed his cue.
"... and now, our first solo piece of the evening, played by our own master cellist, Shinji Ikari."
Polite applause, as he quickly, carefully carried the instrument to its place at the center of the stage. Master cellist? Shinji grinned, who had ever come up with that? He smiled again as the spotlight lit up, wildly off center, and slowly focused back on him. The suits and stage may have been nothing but elegance, but the production was fairly low budget, the work of those obsessed by the beauty and power of music. The drive and dedication made all the rough edges invisible, this lovingly crafted makeshift production - perhaps that was why he liked it so much.
//Nothing perfect, no expectations, except to play what you love... and that becomes your perfection.//
The applause had faded, but he barely realized the audience was there. It was his time now, beneath the brilliant light that made the rest of the world fade away, his time and his song.
Shinji tipped his head back, closing his eyes, reaching back through the past in less than a heartbeat, finding the smile he remembered, warm red eyes and easy affection...
He drew the bow down, shattering the silence with what he knew now had been lost forever, his first and last taste of a perfect love.
It was a requiem, for that which should not have had to die, for innocence he hadn't thought he had left to lose, for a yearning he didn't understand until it was far too late, and all he had left was regret for the loss. The bow all but drew blood, and with each note he felt the sharp slash, a mirror stroke against his heart.
It was a sweet pain, Shinji could imagine each note building upon the last, until they could all see the image shining in his mind's eye, the love he had never been able to share - yes, this was the man I loved, the one who died for me. The empty space nothing else will ever fill.
The crowd was not young, Shinji knew he played their regrets along with his own, sweet dreams of the world before the Second Impact, of friends and lovers not lost irrevocably to the passage of the years. He wanted to play for that which lay beyond the loss, something worth hoping for - reunion, an inevitable dawn to even the darkest day.
Shinji wanted that, to at least make the pain beautiful, if nothing else - but as he played, he realized it wasn't going to happen, hearing the music slip deeper into the minor keys. He had NERV's teachings, not hope, and his father's life as example... nothing to hope for.
//I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, I can't give you what I don't have. I wish I could remember the good times, to make them worth more than everything after. I wish I could play you Asuka's strength, Misato's gentle hands - Kaworu, all of Kaworu.//
/Shinji.../
He didn't notice the whisper, thought it nothing but another buried ghost of the past, a phantom momentarily unearthed to moan and keen and fade away. Shinji dug the notes down, holding them until he was sure that they bled - pulling the bow was nearly crippling, the way his chest ached in sympathy, memories washing over him uncontrollably, though he was perfect in his frozen poise, /knew/ he was giving all he could...
/It's beautiful, Shinji... but so sad.../
The music made him brave, though the breath caught in his throat, and he didn't dare look, to give form to the ghost...
/Open your eyes, my heart of glass... I'm here, you just have to believe it./
He couldn't believe he had managed to keep playing, that his hands were at all steady when the rest of himself - body and soul - seemed to be shaking uncontrollably.
/Shinji.../
//What if you're NOT?! What if... what if there are only... strangers? Kaworu, I couldn't bear... I couldn't...//
The high, piercing note cut the air like a scream - his scream, long after the splash of LCL, that final decision. It had taken them the better part of an hour to get him out of the suit that time, he wouldn't let go, he /couldn't/ let go...
Warm humor erased the agony without any effort at all, the soft, husky voice both real and unreal, silent though he could hear it purr in his ear, soft breathing raising the fine hairs on the back of his neck, like the gentlest caress, and he nearly shivered...
/Shinji, won't you even look at me?/
//It's not real. I'm going crazy, it can't be...//
/... just open your eyes./
He did, without thinking - wanting everything, fearing nothing - and all at once found himself staring senselessly into the audience, everything disappearing...
Kaworu Nagisa was smiling back at him.
--------------------------
It had all the pain of a public lashing, though Kaworu knew he was the only one who could feel the full force of the emotions coming from the stage. He could hear a few people on either side of where he sat reaching for tissues, sniffling slightly, ensnared by the music that seemed determined to wrap around the throat and squeeze - a physical force, that grief, rage and pain with nowhere to go.
It seemed that Shinji hardly had to play at all, the instrument simply pulled the emotion from the air, the player, and spun it into song.
//It's beautiful, and it shouldn't be. Oh Shinji, just look at me...//
He knew the man could hear him, emotions the angel didn't hear as words stretching between them, tense and shaking, Shinji so afraid to believe. Kaworu saw the quiver in the bow, so slight that it didn't even change the music, but he felt it - shock, surprise, that horrible fear - and what it was like, as it had been that day at the beach, what it felt like to completely resonate with another soul.
/Open your eyes, my heart of glass... I'm here, you just have to believe it. Shinji.../
The backlash came, flooding over him, sorrow and anger and the bitter tears of a decade's worth of grieving. Kaworu took it all in, though he swore it nearly stopped his human heart, let it all flow through him, it was, after all, just another part of the soul he loved.
/Shinji, won't you even look at me?/
He smiled, waiting, letting his eyes rest on the man beneath the spotlight, so fragile, but strong, far beyond what Shinji believed he was capable of... didn't he see? He had a room full of people grieving with him... wasn't it time to learn happiness?
/ ... just open your eyes./
... and Shinji did, ten years of separation vanishing as if they had never been. Kaworu could feel all the painful feelings dissolve, like mist in the heat of the sun, the note changing even as Shinji played it, swelling with such hope, happiness.
//I'm sorry I left you, Shinji. I didn't know, I thought it would be all right. I'm so sorry you had to be alone.//
He was smiling, the small, shy smile Kaworu had ached to see again - two spots of color high on his cheeks, but his fathomless blue eyes held no note of the reserve they had, ten years ago, no sign of worry or confusion or hesitation.
/Kaworu./ The words were as clear as if he had spoken them himself. /You've... come back? ... because of me?/
They were enraptured by each other, Shinji playing from a forgotten wellspring, hands dancing over the instrument almost carelessly, never missing a note of the final few bars of his solo though his eyes never strayed from Kaworu's.
It was their moment, a perfect, untouchable thing - and so neither man took any notice of the others among the crowd, familiar faces watching them both with great interest.
--------------------------
"Good job, Shinji."
"Great work."
It was unusual, that anyone had ever patted him on the shoulder in congratulation, but as Shinji walked down the corridor toward the music lockers, the applause still ringing in his ears, he barely noticed it, kept looking down, half-expecting to be floating in midair. It felt almost as it did when he was sad - as if he were walking outside of his body, but this feeling was completely different, electric, thrilling, leaving him completely unsure of what it was he should be doing, but that it had to be done /right now/.
Shinji hadn't dared to look away, eyes fixed on Kaworu for the rest of the concert, afraid that at any moment he would blink, and the pale-haired man would vanish forever. He didn't, and Shinji wondered how he had managed to make it through the rest of the concert, knew he had never let his gaze drift from the other man's face, those warm, soft ruby eyes - he'd forgotten, even with how hard he held on, he'd still forgotten just /how/ beautiful Kaworu had been.
It would have been impossible to reach him directly after, the way the stage and seating had been separated, but Kaworu's ever-confident smile appeared, his sentiment clear - I will find you. It wasn't until after he had vanished through the top doorway that Shinji realized he needed a few minutes to simply catch his breath.
//What do I say to him? God, what do I...? I mean, should I apologize, for... I... I could thank him, for the flowers, or...//
He realized he was wringing his hands, forced himself to stop, open his small locker door, thankful that the traffic, the other performers moving around him kept anyone from noticing his anxiety - thankful that, for the very first time, the sight of celebration, of people leaving with their loved ones, friends, relatives... it didn't hurt to see.
//Kaworu is here. It doesn't hurt because... he's here, waiting for me.//
Shinji took out the bag with his street clothes, reached up one hand to undo his tie, and paused. Maybe the man would rather see him this way? Maybe...
He felt the blush, the sudden smile, closed his eyes briefly at the glorious painful sweetness of it, the ache in his chest worse than butterflies, for all the years he had never had a chance to desire, to feel giddy with new love, the promise of even one perfect day...
//Kaworu is here. He's here, he's here.//
Instead of calming down, Shinji was feeling more out-of-body by the moment, as he turned, walked out the door, saying vague goodbyes a few times as he passed other players, tracing the lines of the bricks in the wall with his eyes, thoughts a blur. He wondered which door to exit out of, found himself crossing down into the deeper parts of the backstage area, the noise dimming to nearly nothing in the concrete halls, as he tried to remember how to get back, finally decided he was on the right path, wondering if his face looked as brilliantly red as it felt.
//I... I'm not sure... I mean, maybe he'll be hungry? I should think of a place... or maybe he'll just want to go back to my house and...//
Shinji came to a dead halt, eyes widening as he followed that thought, blindingly fast, to a conclusion that nearly took him off his feet. He remembered his time with Kaworu, /all/ his time, including that fateful trip to the showers. Nothing happened, it wasn't like anything had actually happened...
//He touched me.//
Nothing /happened/...
//He touched my hand, and he smiled at me, and I... I...//
Shinji shivered at the feeling that swept over him, once again nearly sent to the floor, goose bumps rising on his skin as he struggled to name it - hot, cold, happiness, anxiety, fear, yearning, anticipation...
//I wonder if he looks different naked now?//
Shinji laughed out loud at that one, wondering why on earth he hadn't found himself with a nosebleed yet, leaning against the wall, one hand over his stomach, giggling like a small child, the promise of a better tomorrow simply overwhelming.
The dark-haired man finally got a hold of himself, wiping tiny tears from the corners of his eyes, picking up his cello and his bag of regular clothes, continuing toward the door, to something unknown but certainly wonderful...
"Hello, Mr. Ikari."
He'd rounded the corner without thinking, the men at the other end for a moment seeming like phantoms, as imaginary as he feared Kaworu to be. Shinji felt the shock as a physical blow, a bucket of ice water thrown over his head at the speed of sound. He tried to speak, could do little more than whisper the word.
"Cate."
---------------------------
He'd taken too many steps toward the men at the other end of the hall, and even as Shinji took a step backward, he heard footsteps behind him, didn't need to turn to know two more black-suited thugs, just like the ones Cate had with him had appeared, blocking his chance of escape.
"You should have come with Toby, Mr. Ikari. We would have had time to test out the adjustments to the suit. As it is, the next Dominion has already appeared."
"Send Asuka."
Shinji hated the words even as he spit them out between gritted teeth, glaring at Cate and the scientist who stood next to him, a man who would not meet his eye - //Lon? Liu? The one responsible for Geburah.// - but something deep inside of him had taken over, something selfish and vicious and true.
It was that other him - the Shinji that had been watched Kaworu die the first time, the Shinji who had seen his mother die, who had endured blow after blow after blow, crippling emotional agony each time his father turned away, who /still/ reached out even though every kindness, no matter how small, was cruelly wrenched from his grasp...
//No more. No more.//
Cate smiled slightly, shaking his head.
"You were right, you know. There's no way we could suit up Asuka in time for this battle. It's a shame you picked now to grow a spine, Mr. Ikari. I'm afraid it isn't very convenient."
"It's over. I'm done. No more... find yourself another pilot."
Cate's eyes flashed, he took a step forward, and Shinji edged back just slightly, glancing behind at the two very broad-shouldered men who more or less filled up the end of the hallway - he couldn't fight them, there was no way - and braced himself, standing his ground.
"You don't want to fight the seventeenth angel again? I can't say I blame you, Mr. Ikari."
"What?"
"We saw you watching him during the concert. He's been following you for some time, you know. Do you have any idea, how he might have found his way back here? Why is he alive?"
//A miracle. It's a miracle.//
Shinji said nothing, hands clenching into fists.
"I won't pilot for you again. It's over. I'm done."
"Mr. Ikari, I fail to see when you were given any choice."
He heard footsteps behind him, turned, and managed to get one good punch in, but his kick went wide, easily caught, and a ruthless backhand slap sent him flying, crashing hard into the wall.
"Stop! We need him unharmed!"
The dark-haired man wondered how that was possible, when his head was already spinning from the initial blow. He was roughly grabbed, each man taking an arm, pinning it painfully high behind his back, lifting him nearly off the ground, but Shinji could feel the anger, hysterical... he was back in the Eva again, raging for what had been done to Toji - his father had been wrong, there was little difference between his reasons then and now, between 15 and 25. He would not let them use him, and oh god, not /now/, not when he was so close to what he wanted, a happiness he had always dreamed might be.
"Let go of me! It's over! Let me GO!" He struggled as hard as he could, lashing out with his feet, twisting his arms despite the pain, screaming - let someone hear, let anyone hear -
//Kaworu!//
The men managed to drag him to the other end of the hall, though he could hear cursing, it hadn't been accomplished easily, and the other two men quickly moved to assist, until he was nearly immobile.
"We don't have time for this."
Cate's voice was sharp with impatience, and Shinji could hear him step away as someone else moved closer.
"I'm sorry."
Shinji heard the deep voice of Toby's counterpart - Lae, that was it - murmur in his ear, an instant before something sharp pricked the back of his neck, a sudden stabbing pain. He howled, knowing what had happened immediately, even before the world began to dim, smearing into a senseless blur, his body going limp as he was dragged backward... a flash of pale hair caught the corner of his eye just before his head dropped, the world flipping into darkness.
"... won't do it. I... w-won't. Kaw... oru... help... me..."
-----------------------
Lae hated Cate, perhaps not as much as Toby did, but the man had no illusions about the kind of person he worked for, how much he disliked it. Still, he couldn't help but feel grateful for the man's cutthroat presence, as from behind them, /something/ melted through the wall.
Cate turned, several emotions flickering on his face, finally landing on pleasant surprise, his most usual and utterly false expression.
"Well well, if it isn't SEELE's precious baby Angel."
Lae winced, amazed that even Cate would have the nerve to say something so snide, not when even he could feel the change in the air - there was /something/ waiting in those red eyes, no matter how calm the Angel's expression.
"Give him to me."
The Angel's voice was surprisingly normal, as he gestured to the man slumped in the guards' arms. Strange, Lae thought, wasn't he supposed to be Shinji's enemy?
"He isn't yours. I want him back."
"Shoot him." Cate murmured softly. "I want to see what happens."
The guards opened fire, bullets pinging, vaporizing as they hit a barrier - Lae watched it flare up with each shot, amazed at what he was seeing, an actual AT field - this man really /was/ an Angel. Eventually the clips ran dry, and they were back at the beginning, though Lae was wondering just how much longer this Angel would keep from acting, or what in the world Cate was planning to stop him.
"Give him to me."
Lae swallowed hard, knowing Cate would never do it, looked over, surprised at the calculating look in his superior's eyes, a sudden flash of some sort of inspiration.
"Impossible. You... so /that/ would be why you..." The man's eyes flashed cruelly, and before the scientist could blink, Cate had his own gun out, muzzle resting against the top of Shinji's head. "He isn't your /enemy/ at all, is he?"
The angel had frozen where he stood, one hand half raised, Lae felt a surprising pang of sympathy for the look on his face, as if he just now realized Shinji Ikari was a part of this.
"Stop. Don't."
Cate was a sadist, and the scientist knew the thoughtful look on his face was sickeningly real, as he pondered whether or not to kill the man at the end of his gun.
"He's really no use to me this way, you know. He already said he won't fight, I'm assuming because of /you/."
Lae opened his mouth to protest, though he wasn't sure what he would say, when a violent tremor shook the entire building. A cell phone went off, one of the guards, who answered it quickly, stunningly calm.
"It's the Dominion. It's here."
Cate sighed.
"We have no other pilot, we need him now..." Keeping the gun firmly on Shinji, he turned back to the Angel.
"I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again, Nagisa."
Lae wondered, taking one careful glance of the expressionless angel's face as they retreated toward the exit, just how long Cate planned on surviving if he did, how long the red-eyed man would let him live.