Chapter Two
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"He's crashing! We're losing him!"
Amazing, how calm he felt, as rushing shapes swirled around him in a wave, and he heard machines bleating, blaring much more loudly than was necessary, drowning out all the voices, reducing the world to a murmur and a blur. It reminded him of the way, in childhood, that he had lived his life through his headphones, all the darkness and the sorrow in the world replaced with sweet music...
Even this electronic bleating was better than the true whispers of the world.
"I need 10 cc's..."
"Move!"
"Christ, he's a skinny guy..."
"... least his veins are easy to find."
Oh yes, he was good at that, if nothing else. After his stint with NERV and Eva, there wasn't one test, one medical procedure he couldn't soar through...
//Eva.//
Amazing that, after only these few years, he could barely remember a good portion of that time, couldn't remember what some of the angels even /looked/ like, and some parts of NERV were only blank, dark corridors, no matter how hard he tried to fill in the details...
"... barely stable... shock..."
He was floating now, the pain a cloud that lay over him, could touch him only in the vaguest sense... it was not unlike being absorbed by his Eva - something he would /never/ forget - but freer... Shinji could feel himself, just his own consciousness drifting along, untouched by the voices, growing ever more distant... Even when he tried to listen, they were little more than murmurs...
//Not yet, Shinji... not yet...//
He smiled, recognizing that voice, as if his soul had been struck, produced one clear note, and that note echoed back to him, but with more power, more warmth than he could ever create on his own...
... or perhaps, /he/ was the echo?
//I'm coming. Shinji.//
It was the truth, that voice had never held the power to lie. Even in his anger, so long ago, he knew that had been the truth...
Warmth, and light, he could feel that touch pulling on him, and reached out for it, for that absence of suffering, in the arms, the so-tender grip - //take me... take me with you...//
"Damn it! He's not responding..."
//Misato-san...?// The voice from the past collided with the doctor in the present, and he smiled... Misato, she was /always/ so angry, ready to face the world with frustration as her only weapon, annoyance her ever-ready shield.
//If I had known then, what I know now...//
The pull increased, as if he were enveloped in sunbeams, being drawn away with the most gentle of touches, and Shinji tried to follow it, lifted upward, but was tangled... fought to free himself...
//No. Shinji, stop...//
Two? Two forces, pulling on him now? One drawing him up and away, promising him the eternal, the infinite, blessedly free of want, and pain, and life... The other pulling too, but trying to reach him by it, drawing himself down the line of Shinji's soul, coming back...
/... back?!/
Shinji turned his eyes up, instantly blinded by the brilliant white light, but forced himself to see, he /had/ to see...
... red-hazel eyes, drawn to his own, coming closer, until they filled his vision, staring into his soul, the way that only he had ever bothered to do...
//Oh God...//
/Not exactly, Shinji.../ His heart threatened to burst, overflow at the sound of that wry amusement, the kind, slightly rough tone that promised such infinite patience with his mistakes, swore he would not be hurt, that he would never be alone again...
"We've got a pulse!"
All at once, exhaustion swept over him in a wave, and he was falling, falling, even those beloved eyes darkening along with the rest of the world. He struggled to hold on to the light, feeling it slip through exhausted, clumsy fingers... he would not let go... would /not/...
//You've done enough, Shinji... more than enough. Rest, it's all right now...//
A light kiss against his brow, the rustling of feathers, or the tide coming up on some far-off, distant sea, and the last strands of light slid from his fingers... but the darkness was equally warm, peaceful and welcoming, and Shinji, his faith wholly in the voice, the eyes that smiled down on him, happily let it take him under once more.
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It didn't really matter much what the man's name had been, or even how he had died. It was more important that, until a few moments ago, he /had/ been dead... and before that, not even close to what he was now.
The young man slid off of the gurney, bare feet hardly making a sound as they touched the ground, for what was really the first time in many, many years.
He looked down, sliding a hand over his bare chest, his slightly muscular arms, carefully examining the new form for any visible injuries, finding none... It was not exactly like the body he had taken before, this form quite older... but then, time /had/ passed, and many things had changed.
It was not all that important to /him/ what form he took - at this, the thin lips curved into an easy smile - but this was not /his/ surprise, not only meant for his delight, and he would spare no detail, not if he could help it...
//I'm here.//
He had only a blurry image, a few moments sensation, of what he knew was waiting for him, out there... somewhere... but it was more than enough to make him smile again.
"It would be best, perhaps... if I found some clothes."
His voice was of a nice timbre and pitch- though deeper, of course, than it had been before - and his new body moved well with him, as he took a few practice steps along the cool floor, stretching his arms, turning slightly, as if preparing to dance... or lift into the sky...
/~you delude yourself, tabris.~/
The man turned sharply, but there were no shadows in the pale blue room, nothing that could have brought up the cold, chill whisper that burned in the air, went to the very core of the body he now wore, goose bumps shivering across his skin, though he was nothing but calm, centered... ready...
//I performed the task I was bidden to do. Nothing more was required of me. You know that as well as I.//
/~you did nothing~/
Another smile, this one stronger, proud.
//I fulfilled my destiny, as I had been created to do. This has nothing to do with any of you, nothing to do with anything, but /me/ and /what I want/.//
//~they rarely get what they want... why should you?~//
The man's eyes narrowed, gleaming, though there was still nothing to see, not even hear, the ghostly, cold whisper inaudible, the threat meant only for his soul to see.
/Without a fight? I /will/ fight this time, and you know on what terms. There is no claim on me anymore. I will fight for what I claim as my own./
/~/His/ claim is permanent, tabris. you would defy Him?~/
//If He wants me, let /Him/ come.//
No answer, though he knew the sharp words had struck deep.
//Leave me to my own... this is over.//
/~cycles, only cycles... your disobedience will not go unpunished forever~/
There was no fading presence, no vanishing sensation, but the man knew the moment it was over, knew the voice had left him, just as he knew it would return, that things had not yet begun to resolve themselves.
//There is time, though...// He smiled, for a moment almost breathlessly warm inside, from the thought of things to come, in the very near future...
//Ikari Shinji...//
Stepping towards the door, draping a hospital gown around him until he could find better clothes, the man looked up, and into a small mirror set on the wall. He smiled again, pushing feathery bangs away from his face, the hair just slightly too long - he would cut it later, yes - and stared into his own light hazel eyes, already beginning to deepen, darken to a rich, velvety red.
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Shinji woke, looking up at a white ceiling so familiar it could very well have been a nightmare.
//It could very well be the beginning...//
As if his entire life had never happened? As if he had returned to the first battle? Shinji wondered blankly, if knowing what was to come would change anything at all...
//Toji.//
/Kaworu.../
Suddenly, a brightly colored blossom dipped down, covering his nose. Shinji breathed in sharply, and only realized he was hooked to an oxygen machine when he could barely smell a thing. The young man turned his head, staring into a pair of familiar dark glasses, a small, oval face smiling back at him.
"Vara..?"
His voice sounded surprisingly weak in his ears... and Shinji realized he was hooked to even more machines as he tried to move his hands, and for the most part, failed. Cobalt blue eyes darted down, he could feel a slight pain beneath the blanket, where his hands lay...
The alley. The attacker, stabbing him again... and again...
Shinji closed his eyes, shuddering slightly, the feel of the blade sliding through his skin, tearing at his insides... so vivid... A steady hand touched his shoulder, breaking him from the past.
"I can feel you trembling..."
He nodded, trying to catch his breath, to calm down.
"How did you know... I was here...?"
"The hospital called the shop, when they saw your name on our card."
Shinji nodded weakly, and Vara didn't press for more. They had worked together long enough, that though he didn't talk much about his past, she knew that there was no one to call.
"Have you... talked to the doctors...?"
"You were moved out of intensive care a few hours ago. They say nothing critical was damaged... you should heal just fine."
Shinji nodded, carefully reached out for the box of juice resting on the tray near his bed, making sure all the cords would follow - but stopped, and shifted his hand toward the flowers instead.
Vara, of course, saw none of it, but waiting patiently for him to speak, one hand against the side of her narrow cane.
"They look beautiful, Vara..." he winced slightly, hastily added, "... and they smell wonderful too."
"It's all right, Shinji." Vara smiled. "I'm glad you like them."
It was an amazingly colorful bouquet, and almost hurt his eyes, the shifting softness constantly producing new shades along the blooms, as his hand gently moved from one flower to the next... bright begonias, even brighter marigolds. Shinji paused, rubbing a petal of soft, ivory oleander between his thumb and forefinger...
"... but what? What's this new one?"
His weary mind refused to catch on the name of the final flower. As he brushed the back of his hand against the red blossoms, even that small strength left him, and his arm fell back limply to his side.
"The Nasturtium? It was delivered just this morning..." Vara smiled, soft voice momentarily aglow. "It means victory."
Shinji smiled, quietly watched her get to her feet, cane coming out to measure her slow, easy steps to the door. He hadn't forgotten, hadn't misunderstood... that if she knew when and how they'd moved him, she had probably been waiting for him all day.
"Thank you, Vara..."
"Get well soon, Shinji. The flowers are already missing you."
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The doctor quickly sidestepped the young woman as she moved out of the room directly into his path. The cane tapping out the ground in front of her quickly dislodged any annoyance that had flared at her sudden, unexpected appearance.
//Sad, that...// There was technology available to counteract blindness now, but most of it was still /so/ expensive...
His eyes flicked up inside the room for a moment, in one of his usual mental exercises, as he forced himself to remember the current occupant, and his condition...
//Asian male, early 20's, brought in with multiple stab wounds... no perforation of internal organs, moved out of ICU, on watch for the next 24 hours...//
The doctor doubted if the young man would know his attacker, he wasn't close to the first person that had come in during his stay at the hospital with such sudden, vicious wounds...
//Goddamn city... you'd think that when the whole damn place /flooded/, people might be just a bit more /nice/ to their fellow man?//
If the whole wave of planetary upheavals, and the catastrophic death tolls hadn't been enough of a wake-up, there was also all he had heard, of the thoroughly bizarre series of "monsters" that had supposedly terrorized Japan nearly ten years ago.
It had captured the world's attention while it had happened, inspired worldwide panic, with all sorts of people declaring the apocalypse nigh, the assured end of humanity coming at any moment... and then, one day, it had just /stopped/, the entire nightmare dropping back into the silence it had come from...
It could very well have been a turning point for the world, but really, for all that /could/ have happened, not much changed in the aftermath of the so-called "Second Impact." The planet kept chugging along much like it always had, cities rebuilding, people repopulating, working, living and fighting pretty much just as they had before the disaster... living out the same problems, dreaming of the same solutions...
//... and pray that there's intelligent life somewhere up in space,
'Cause there's bugger all down here on Earth.//
Humming bits and pieces of that particular scrap of Earthly wisdom, the man made his way into the morgue. His memory couldn't quite pinpoint the facts surrounding the body that was waiting for him... whatever had killed the man, it must not have been /too/ messy...
The doctor opened the door, slid on a pair of gloves, picked up the clipboard on the desk, and froze.
The gleam of cold metal winked up at him from the flat, blank surface... and the body was gone.
Stunned, and much too confused to understand, the doctor made his way to the empty metal table, slowly picked up the toe tag that had been placed atop the carefully folded blanket resting at the corner of the gurney.
He never saw the blind woman, who had followed him out of Shinji's room, now standing at the end of the hallway. He never noticed her pause for a moment, or smile, or heard the tap of her cane against the floor as she slowly walked away.
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Author's Notes
1. I barely know ER the show, let alone actual emergency room procedure. Please be gentle. : )
2. I've pretty much decided that for the purposes of this story, the movies don't exist. Not that I really understand the plot of the show anyway... <sigh>