Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Dance With Death ❯ The Tell-Tale Heart ( Chapter 9 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Angel Katarina aka AC 
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance / Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 12.19.2004 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.8K | Visits: 303 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance / Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 12.19.2004 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.8K | Visits: 303 | Status: Completed
Disclaimer: I don't own DragonBallZ or any of its characters, just Comet.
"Dance With Death"
by A.C
Chapter Nine
The Tell-Tale Heart
Dedicated to: Ryu, aka Pen Dragon, Metal Siren. Whenever depressed, may she pull herself back up with the strength I know she has ^^ Whenever happy.... let's keep it that way! It is she who has inspired these up-coming chapters
---`---,---@
The latest encounter in the church seemed to have brought out a change amongst the occupants of the Lookout. Whether it was for better or worst was impossible to tell by any. Comet remained as reserved as ever, although she seemed less troubled and more or less... thoughtful. She was seen with a faint smile more than often, as if the memory of being happy was what her glazed eyes were observing, her tired mind relentlessly turning itself over as she mused on it.
Goku, they would have thought, would be more protective than ever and would refuse to let Comet be, but on the contrary he was rather the opposite. The entire company was still barred from leaving, trapped upon its surface - trapped, or freed from the monstrosity of Cell that loomed below them? He allowed Comet plenty of free time, and didn't seem particularly worried about her. He, too, seemed to be deep in thought. A rare mood for the Sayain hero.
Piccolo was not present or accountable for any of the events that had brought this silent change, but the versions relayed by Goku and the story he had managed to press out of Comet, led to his consistent meditating. He would confide only in Goku, and gave Gohan the abridged version. All other findings or thoughts, he kept to himself.
Regarding the android in question was a topic typically avoided. Not for the comfort level or reason of awkwardness, but for the plain, simple fact that none of them knew what to think. There were botched versions of what had occurred when Comet disappeared and finally returned - the most the group had been able to gather were hideous pictures of Cell cornering her and almost taking her when Goku appeared. But the tale from there on was blurred, seemingly in the center more than around the edges. Supposing the real question; was Cell still alive, or had Goku finished him off? But who knew? Details were sparse, and Goku refused to let any of his own findings contribute.
The thought of it was ludicrous - Cell, after all this time, finally defeated? It seemed impossible. After the weeks' worth of struggle with the android, such a short and simple ending? They were afraid and yet hopeful of underestimating him. If he did return, could surprise or even panic ensue? No... almost deep down, they knew that Cell would be back. On the surface, it seemed a haze of lost, hopeful folly had enveloped the place. Empty hope, which Comet confronted with an equally empty smile. Her relaxed pose meant nothing - whether the emotions were true relaxation or anxiety. She merely felt nothing.
The clouded, bitter confusion was only deepened with a drastic change upon everything.
The reappearance of Vegeta.
He, who should stalk from the shadows, cursing all the world had to offer with his trademark scowl and letting the moody atmosphere of the lookout slide right off him like he did everything else. Not at all troubled by Comet's own problems, he resorted to deep periods of training - where it was a universal knowledge that these were also his meditating sessions. He thought best when his fists were at work.
How had he survived? Comet had taken a keen interest in this when Vegeta showed up on the Lookout's edge, bruised, battered, with several old wounds and one refusing to stem its flow. As Popo patched him up, Comet hovered nearby, questioning him and helping. As he steadily recovered, his own account unraveled.
All the group had felt - they had seen nothing - was the bolt of power that shook the skies and his life force snap in their minds. They had felt it disappear - they FELT him die. How could he be back? For days afterward, he had drifted in and out of consciousness, recovering with only the process of rest. As he slept, his body healed itself and his strength increased, giving more to withstand the pain. Eventually, he had gained enough to fly and stumble his way back to the lookout.
But how had Cell missed? The Sayain prince, at the last moment, had finally snatched his life from the air as it hovered before him and, for once, shadowed his pride. He had thrown out his Final Flash at the last moment, partially deflecting the blow - at least preventing it from making actual contact with him. Using his remaining strength, he had raised a shield before tossed into blackness.
It didn't explain for what they had felt. The Senshi had, indeed, felt him die. If it was at all possible for Vegeta to die and then somehow return to life on his own, no one knew. The miraculous resurrection was only half explained, and an ending never made itself present.
Immediately afterwards, Comet changed once more. Her spirit, the one they were familiar with, flickered and flared back to life - she began a fierce concentration and determination with Piccolo, questioning him and spending hours at a time searching for Cell's life force. Her dogged attempts to find him, however, seemed a bit harsh. More strongly felt, perhaps, then it should have. In all reality, why should she care if he was alive or not? But anxiously she searched - and, miraculously felt dispirited when it wasn't to be found.
And thus, days progressed. Goku seemed to be in a rather moody state of pondering the situation. Vegeta spent his time training and sulking, in an angry void to himself. Piccolo payed a bit more attention to Comet, overseeing her wretched determination to find Cell - and the earthling woman in question spent her days thinking and trying to feel Cell out.
But thinking? Of one thing in particular, and certainly not what anyone could have supposed.
In all abandonment of denial, she had seen things back in the chapel. Things she knew Cell was LETTING her see, emotions she knew he was LETTING her feel, thoughts he was allowing her to pick up on. And it was what she had seen, and felt, and sensed that weighed on her.
For she had seen loneliness in that church. Pure, unadulterated loneliness. Backed by pain and contempt. For the first time, she began to think about Cell's feelings, and the reasons behind his actions. Because these reasons were slowly becoming plain to her. She heard 'his' voice too, now - in her nightmares. Every night, the voice of the man she knew as Dr. Gero haunted her dreams, yelling at her and beating her and calling her worthless. Every limb ached of pain, her heart burned of helpless rage, and her soul ripped with that horrible sense of solitude whenever she awoke.
Were these the things that Cell felt? Was this why he was trained to fight without compassion or trust, without love or emotion? He had been born as Gero's creation, and in her dreams her every wish was to make him happy and finally satisfy him in being the perfect being, and was ripped with a miserable feeling of worthlessness, until she awoke and questioned why she felt she needed to please his desires for killing the Z Fighters, for being perfect?
Why did she feel the need to do these for him? But it wasn't her feeling it - it was Cell. Why did Cell listen to the old man??
Her mind raced each day, first from these thoughts before shifting into the next wonderment. Was she beginning to pity the heartless - or perhaps not so much - android? She had no reason to pity him. She had no reason to care what he was feeling, or why she should feel the slightest bit of compassion for him. But it was already she knew her answer. Because he didn't know compassion. He felt it, but he didn't know what it meant. Imagine if she could free him from the icy prison of entrapment within himself...
But why did she owe this to him...?
Days and nights slipped by slowly. She spent all of her time pondering over this, searching to find some sort of meaning, of reason in it all. Yet the Z Fighters were pleased to note she came from her seclusion to meals, and that she spoke again to each of them. Whatever had happened in the church seemed to have been a reckoning that had given Comet a sense of self-security; for the time being. Comet didn't know if she felt assured or not. She felt no fear, but she knew Cell was still out there. And yet the thought of his reappearance seemed equally dull, and remained buried in the base of her spine. Her main thoughts were focused more or less on her own inner turmoil.
It was one of these nights that Comet found herself lying, wide awake in bed, staring blankly across the shadowed room to the splash of moonlight that stained the floor. It was a cold night, but her window remained open to the chill. Above the clouds, it was cooler and nights and days were always clear. The moon seemed harsher, and the stars were more acute, in focus. Closer, they appeared, and harder was their glow.
'Say you'll stay with me... say you love me, and will never leave me... to be alone... say you will!'
Those words from the chapel... she could still hear him whispering them in her ear. And she knew perfectly well what they meant. The meaning left its imprint upon her - whether it imposed with a dawning childlike curiosity, or a foreboding shiver of what could have been.
She drew back the covers and slipped out of bed, shivering as she walked to the window. The moon was just rounding out, filling up as they steadily approached the night of the full moon. The nights had been becoming colder, too, and tonight was no different. A cruel breeze played across her neck and shoulders, chilling her almost instantly. But she couldn't sleep. Not with all that was pressing on her.
She sighed lightly, seeing her breath mist above her before it slipped away on the breeze. Her green eyes calmly surveyed the outside skies. But suddenly, a wave of anxiety fell over her, and she felt her body tense. She didn't even know why - as if a sudden thrill of foreboding had struck, she found herself paralyzed at the window, staring calmly out, as her stomach flip-flopped wildly, threatening to empty itself.
The moment, however, soon passed. Chilled, and passing it off as the thought of freezing in the cold of night, Comet turned and slowly stepped back to her bed to duck under the covers once again. Soon, she had fallen into a troubled doze.
---`---,---@
Hours later, the pallid moon shone coldly down upon the lookout, spilling silvery white pools across every surface, shying away from the darkness of the shadows. The moon's innocent light stayed meekly away from the looming shadows, but the two danced and entwined, bound together by night. Shadow and Moonlight, darkness and innocence.
And above, while Moonlight slept - peacefully, yet troubled - Shadow crept stealthily across the way, drawing closer. *
The dark figure of a stranger slipped easily in the window; Shadow spilling his aura silently on the floor. Gleaming eyes raised slowly across the room, ignoring the tall silhouette outlined on the floor, to the sleeping form on the bed. All was silent and cold, and the stillness was unbroken as the figure stepped silently across the threshold.
Comet was sound asleep, lost in the darkness of a blissfully dreamless world, devoid of feeling, warmth and emotion. Just pure, suspended blackness. But a sudden cold pervaded her senses, and as she was plunged into the icy pain, the blackness vanished and regained feeling with a sudden, painful swoop. Her eyes snapped open - and a moment later, a hand clapped over her mouth.
Standing over her was the silhouette of a tall figure, shrouded in a veil of darkness, mystery and evil. Had she been free to breathe, she would have uttered a slight inhalation of the breath at the familiarity of Cell's evil aura.
"Good evening, Comet," he murmured. "Don't call for help now. I know you don't want to hurt your friends."
She managed her best glare and waited for him to remove his hand. Once he had done so, she pulled herself up into a sitting position and squirmed away from him, pulling the blankets over her fully-clothed self, feeling more vulnerable then ever. "What are you doing here?" she hissed through the heavy coldness of the night.
His piercing pink eyes never left her own green ones. "To claim what's mine."
Her hand was still resting atop the blankets, clutching them up to her neck. Calmly and smoothly, but before she could react, he had reached forward, seized her wrist and pulled her up to her feet. Once she had steadied herself, he stepped back again, pulling her with him another few feet from the bed.
"Cell," Comet began angrily, "If you think -"
"Shh..." he murmured, pressing a finger of his free hand against her lips, still keeping an iron grip on her wrist. The cold of the room was beginning to get to her, as a chill ran up and down her spine. Or was it the look of longing on his face, his touch against her skin? "Silence."
She glared bitterly into his face - but subconsciously, without really feeling it, her piercing stare was softening. She couldn't help it. He was so gentle, so miserable and alone...
"That's it," he whispered, taking his finger from her lips and gently stroking her cheek, "Now don't move, or struggle. It will hurt if you do."
Her green eyes - seemingly illuminated in the moonlight pouring across her face from the window - widened slightly. "What...?"
Again, with that calm, gentle confidentiality - smoothly yet swiftly - he leaned forward and kissed her again. Her body froze up with shock as it always did, but this time, something was different. She didn't get a feeling of horror or of fear - or even of anger. For a moment, it was just an empty surprise, only because she hadn't been expecting it. For a brief moment that seemed to drag into an hour, she simply stood and stared blankly, neither rejecting or accepting. For a moment, it was nothing but a question.
And then, she made that mistake - if you even would presume to go as far and call it that. Mistake or final event of something that was bound to happen, she did it and sealed her fate. Whether it was good or bad was up to the receiver. By one's standards, it can easily depend. By Comet's standards...
She made the mistake, for another brief second, of giving into it. For another moment in time, she responded to his question, simply gave up fighting for the time being. She was tired of fighting it, and let logic slip her mind and emotion come into play. Her posture relaxed, her eyes closed, and without even realizing it - kissed back. Because for that moment, she didn't think. And all she knew was how warm he was, and that he was reaching out. And even though she denied it until the deepest possible tone of her heart... she wanted to kiss back.
That one moment of bliss, of blind, impulsive relaxation. That one second of letting go cost her. As if this proved her acceptance, Cell broke the kiss. In the same, smooth, fluent motion, he leaned down and, without the slightest hesitation, sank his teeth into the smooth skin on her neck.
Reality came rushing back, in a cold, piercing wave. Her eyes shot open again and her jaw dropped in a horrified gasp, and her entire body tensed in paralysis. Her skin prickled and tingled, the icy bite riding in on another breeze from outside. Cell, lost once again to instinct, bit harder, his jaws moving rhythmically, while his arms wrapped around her back - pulling her closer to him. Her entire body trembled with cold, shock - moving with him, too weak to do anything else.
Comet remained motionless as he instructed, eyes glazing over with tears. Her face, a blank mask, betrayed no sign of pain, but the tears began to flow as her body wracked against it, wave after wave of splintering, blinding pain. The android gave no sign of noticing, still latched onto her neck, not until she finally made a noise. She gave a slight whimper, unable to hold it back any longer.
Cell finally withdrew, a slight trail of blood at the corner of his mouth. He leaned back and locked eyes with her again. She raised her chin, weakly, to meet his gaze. Her skin was unearthly pale, glowing in the moonlight pouring in, lips a faint tinge of blue from the cold. They trembled slightly as she stared back at him, her eyes glittering against her white skin. In her gaze, he read it all. The one, single question.
"C-cell..." she whimpered, entire body trembling. "Don't..."
"Don't you see why I'm doing this?" he replied softly, replying with his own question. He leaned again, gently nuzzling her cheek and neck in a reassuring way, and bringing his lips to her ear again. "I want you to be my mate."
She was silent, still drawing in trembling breaths, shaking slightly. Her eyes stared blankly forward, past him, trying to tie it all together. She didn't feel much of a stab of horror as one might have expected. After all, she knew something of this sort would undoubtedly happen, sooner or later. True, she had been blissfully oblivious as to the method how, but she knew he wanted her with him. How he finally pulled it off... unexpected. But the motive behind it was. It just came as a variety of quiet sadness...
Was it sadness? She didn't quite know what the emotions tumbling within her was. She was aware of a tremor in her stomach. Yet from what? Out of fear? Excitement? Foreboding?
What was he DOING to her...?
The ironic thing was, although Comet was far from realizing it, was that this was the precise question Cell had asked himself about her only a week before. Funny, the way feelings and emotions work.
But Cell didn't want an answer. He didn't need her consent - in a way, she had already given it - and he would have gone through with it with her consent or not. He didn't particularly need a biting, bitter comment from her, after he had lowered himself so far as to practically PLEAD for her to save him from his loneliness. He knew he was lonely, and although he had hated it at first, he had known he missed Comet. He was just giving into these feelings now, and it was a new sensation for him; lowering the barrier he had around his heart at all times...
He gently reached up and pressed two fingers to the small, still bleeding punctures in her neck. She focused her eyes on his face, blinking wearily, as he pressed harder for a few moments and then let go. The bleeding slowed, and stemmed. Cell stepped back, taking the warmth with him, and gazed into her emerald orbs one last time.
And then he vanished.
Comet didn't move for a good five minutes, staring in surprise, confusion, and still in a light trance from all that had happened and trying to cope with it at the same time. And then as it slowly came back, she looked blearily around the room, blinking. Why had he left? Where had he gone? Was this a NEW mind game to screw her up!?
"Well it's working," she growled under her breath, shivering violently and wrapping her arms around her shoulders in a feeble attempt to warm up. She cast a disdainful frown back at her bed. It was probably cold now, and she really wasn't in much of a mood to sleep anyway. She doubted she could. Damn near impossible to sleep when there's a load on one's mind... and it would probably just give nightmares anyway.
Where was the warmest room on the Lookout? Somewhere that didn't have windows and preferably had a nice fireplace installed. The only trouble was, now that she thought about it, she couldn't quite remember seeing a fire anywhere... and there seemed to be windows everywhere...
"Dammit! Kami, you really need to install some central heating or something..."
Grumbling, she crawled back into bed, ignoring the icy sheets and sitting up against the headboard as she tugged the blankets over her, trying to warm up and think at the same time.
Wait... what was that he had said?
"I'm... his mate...?" she murmured questioningly, wide eyes blinking in alarm. Slowly, she let it sink in. For fifteen minutes she sat in silence, staring blankly into space, all sorts of thoughts and questions running rampant through her mind. None of which tying together enough to make sense and most of them repeating themselves and getting horribly off track. The one clear thought she was able to pull was all that she could use to sum up her feelings at that moment, at two o' clock in the morning.
"Uh oh..."
---`---,---@
* HINT HINT; Anyone catching the symbolism out there...?
"Dance With Death"
by A.C
Chapter Nine
The Tell-Tale Heart
Dedicated to: Ryu, aka Pen Dragon, Metal Siren. Whenever depressed, may she pull herself back up with the strength I know she has ^^ Whenever happy.... let's keep it that way! It is she who has inspired these up-coming chapters
---`---,---@
The latest encounter in the church seemed to have brought out a change amongst the occupants of the Lookout. Whether it was for better or worst was impossible to tell by any. Comet remained as reserved as ever, although she seemed less troubled and more or less... thoughtful. She was seen with a faint smile more than often, as if the memory of being happy was what her glazed eyes were observing, her tired mind relentlessly turning itself over as she mused on it.
Goku, they would have thought, would be more protective than ever and would refuse to let Comet be, but on the contrary he was rather the opposite. The entire company was still barred from leaving, trapped upon its surface - trapped, or freed from the monstrosity of Cell that loomed below them? He allowed Comet plenty of free time, and didn't seem particularly worried about her. He, too, seemed to be deep in thought. A rare mood for the Sayain hero.
Piccolo was not present or accountable for any of the events that had brought this silent change, but the versions relayed by Goku and the story he had managed to press out of Comet, led to his consistent meditating. He would confide only in Goku, and gave Gohan the abridged version. All other findings or thoughts, he kept to himself.
Regarding the android in question was a topic typically avoided. Not for the comfort level or reason of awkwardness, but for the plain, simple fact that none of them knew what to think. There were botched versions of what had occurred when Comet disappeared and finally returned - the most the group had been able to gather were hideous pictures of Cell cornering her and almost taking her when Goku appeared. But the tale from there on was blurred, seemingly in the center more than around the edges. Supposing the real question; was Cell still alive, or had Goku finished him off? But who knew? Details were sparse, and Goku refused to let any of his own findings contribute.
The thought of it was ludicrous - Cell, after all this time, finally defeated? It seemed impossible. After the weeks' worth of struggle with the android, such a short and simple ending? They were afraid and yet hopeful of underestimating him. If he did return, could surprise or even panic ensue? No... almost deep down, they knew that Cell would be back. On the surface, it seemed a haze of lost, hopeful folly had enveloped the place. Empty hope, which Comet confronted with an equally empty smile. Her relaxed pose meant nothing - whether the emotions were true relaxation or anxiety. She merely felt nothing.
The clouded, bitter confusion was only deepened with a drastic change upon everything.
The reappearance of Vegeta.
He, who should stalk from the shadows, cursing all the world had to offer with his trademark scowl and letting the moody atmosphere of the lookout slide right off him like he did everything else. Not at all troubled by Comet's own problems, he resorted to deep periods of training - where it was a universal knowledge that these were also his meditating sessions. He thought best when his fists were at work.
How had he survived? Comet had taken a keen interest in this when Vegeta showed up on the Lookout's edge, bruised, battered, with several old wounds and one refusing to stem its flow. As Popo patched him up, Comet hovered nearby, questioning him and helping. As he steadily recovered, his own account unraveled.
All the group had felt - they had seen nothing - was the bolt of power that shook the skies and his life force snap in their minds. They had felt it disappear - they FELT him die. How could he be back? For days afterward, he had drifted in and out of consciousness, recovering with only the process of rest. As he slept, his body healed itself and his strength increased, giving more to withstand the pain. Eventually, he had gained enough to fly and stumble his way back to the lookout.
But how had Cell missed? The Sayain prince, at the last moment, had finally snatched his life from the air as it hovered before him and, for once, shadowed his pride. He had thrown out his Final Flash at the last moment, partially deflecting the blow - at least preventing it from making actual contact with him. Using his remaining strength, he had raised a shield before tossed into blackness.
It didn't explain for what they had felt. The Senshi had, indeed, felt him die. If it was at all possible for Vegeta to die and then somehow return to life on his own, no one knew. The miraculous resurrection was only half explained, and an ending never made itself present.
Immediately afterwards, Comet changed once more. Her spirit, the one they were familiar with, flickered and flared back to life - she began a fierce concentration and determination with Piccolo, questioning him and spending hours at a time searching for Cell's life force. Her dogged attempts to find him, however, seemed a bit harsh. More strongly felt, perhaps, then it should have. In all reality, why should she care if he was alive or not? But anxiously she searched - and, miraculously felt dispirited when it wasn't to be found.
And thus, days progressed. Goku seemed to be in a rather moody state of pondering the situation. Vegeta spent his time training and sulking, in an angry void to himself. Piccolo payed a bit more attention to Comet, overseeing her wretched determination to find Cell - and the earthling woman in question spent her days thinking and trying to feel Cell out.
But thinking? Of one thing in particular, and certainly not what anyone could have supposed.
In all abandonment of denial, she had seen things back in the chapel. Things she knew Cell was LETTING her see, emotions she knew he was LETTING her feel, thoughts he was allowing her to pick up on. And it was what she had seen, and felt, and sensed that weighed on her.
For she had seen loneliness in that church. Pure, unadulterated loneliness. Backed by pain and contempt. For the first time, she began to think about Cell's feelings, and the reasons behind his actions. Because these reasons were slowly becoming plain to her. She heard 'his' voice too, now - in her nightmares. Every night, the voice of the man she knew as Dr. Gero haunted her dreams, yelling at her and beating her and calling her worthless. Every limb ached of pain, her heart burned of helpless rage, and her soul ripped with that horrible sense of solitude whenever she awoke.
Were these the things that Cell felt? Was this why he was trained to fight without compassion or trust, without love or emotion? He had been born as Gero's creation, and in her dreams her every wish was to make him happy and finally satisfy him in being the perfect being, and was ripped with a miserable feeling of worthlessness, until she awoke and questioned why she felt she needed to please his desires for killing the Z Fighters, for being perfect?
Why did she feel the need to do these for him? But it wasn't her feeling it - it was Cell. Why did Cell listen to the old man??
Her mind raced each day, first from these thoughts before shifting into the next wonderment. Was she beginning to pity the heartless - or perhaps not so much - android? She had no reason to pity him. She had no reason to care what he was feeling, or why she should feel the slightest bit of compassion for him. But it was already she knew her answer. Because he didn't know compassion. He felt it, but he didn't know what it meant. Imagine if she could free him from the icy prison of entrapment within himself...
But why did she owe this to him...?
Days and nights slipped by slowly. She spent all of her time pondering over this, searching to find some sort of meaning, of reason in it all. Yet the Z Fighters were pleased to note she came from her seclusion to meals, and that she spoke again to each of them. Whatever had happened in the church seemed to have been a reckoning that had given Comet a sense of self-security; for the time being. Comet didn't know if she felt assured or not. She felt no fear, but she knew Cell was still out there. And yet the thought of his reappearance seemed equally dull, and remained buried in the base of her spine. Her main thoughts were focused more or less on her own inner turmoil.
It was one of these nights that Comet found herself lying, wide awake in bed, staring blankly across the shadowed room to the splash of moonlight that stained the floor. It was a cold night, but her window remained open to the chill. Above the clouds, it was cooler and nights and days were always clear. The moon seemed harsher, and the stars were more acute, in focus. Closer, they appeared, and harder was their glow.
'Say you'll stay with me... say you love me, and will never leave me... to be alone... say you will!'
Those words from the chapel... she could still hear him whispering them in her ear. And she knew perfectly well what they meant. The meaning left its imprint upon her - whether it imposed with a dawning childlike curiosity, or a foreboding shiver of what could have been.
She drew back the covers and slipped out of bed, shivering as she walked to the window. The moon was just rounding out, filling up as they steadily approached the night of the full moon. The nights had been becoming colder, too, and tonight was no different. A cruel breeze played across her neck and shoulders, chilling her almost instantly. But she couldn't sleep. Not with all that was pressing on her.
She sighed lightly, seeing her breath mist above her before it slipped away on the breeze. Her green eyes calmly surveyed the outside skies. But suddenly, a wave of anxiety fell over her, and she felt her body tense. She didn't even know why - as if a sudden thrill of foreboding had struck, she found herself paralyzed at the window, staring calmly out, as her stomach flip-flopped wildly, threatening to empty itself.
The moment, however, soon passed. Chilled, and passing it off as the thought of freezing in the cold of night, Comet turned and slowly stepped back to her bed to duck under the covers once again. Soon, she had fallen into a troubled doze.
---`---,---@
Hours later, the pallid moon shone coldly down upon the lookout, spilling silvery white pools across every surface, shying away from the darkness of the shadows. The moon's innocent light stayed meekly away from the looming shadows, but the two danced and entwined, bound together by night. Shadow and Moonlight, darkness and innocence.
And above, while Moonlight slept - peacefully, yet troubled - Shadow crept stealthily across the way, drawing closer. *
The dark figure of a stranger slipped easily in the window; Shadow spilling his aura silently on the floor. Gleaming eyes raised slowly across the room, ignoring the tall silhouette outlined on the floor, to the sleeping form on the bed. All was silent and cold, and the stillness was unbroken as the figure stepped silently across the threshold.
Comet was sound asleep, lost in the darkness of a blissfully dreamless world, devoid of feeling, warmth and emotion. Just pure, suspended blackness. But a sudden cold pervaded her senses, and as she was plunged into the icy pain, the blackness vanished and regained feeling with a sudden, painful swoop. Her eyes snapped open - and a moment later, a hand clapped over her mouth.
Standing over her was the silhouette of a tall figure, shrouded in a veil of darkness, mystery and evil. Had she been free to breathe, she would have uttered a slight inhalation of the breath at the familiarity of Cell's evil aura.
"Good evening, Comet," he murmured. "Don't call for help now. I know you don't want to hurt your friends."
She managed her best glare and waited for him to remove his hand. Once he had done so, she pulled herself up into a sitting position and squirmed away from him, pulling the blankets over her fully-clothed self, feeling more vulnerable then ever. "What are you doing here?" she hissed through the heavy coldness of the night.
His piercing pink eyes never left her own green ones. "To claim what's mine."
Her hand was still resting atop the blankets, clutching them up to her neck. Calmly and smoothly, but before she could react, he had reached forward, seized her wrist and pulled her up to her feet. Once she had steadied herself, he stepped back again, pulling her with him another few feet from the bed.
"Cell," Comet began angrily, "If you think -"
"Shh..." he murmured, pressing a finger of his free hand against her lips, still keeping an iron grip on her wrist. The cold of the room was beginning to get to her, as a chill ran up and down her spine. Or was it the look of longing on his face, his touch against her skin? "Silence."
She glared bitterly into his face - but subconsciously, without really feeling it, her piercing stare was softening. She couldn't help it. He was so gentle, so miserable and alone...
"That's it," he whispered, taking his finger from her lips and gently stroking her cheek, "Now don't move, or struggle. It will hurt if you do."
Her green eyes - seemingly illuminated in the moonlight pouring across her face from the window - widened slightly. "What...?"
Again, with that calm, gentle confidentiality - smoothly yet swiftly - he leaned forward and kissed her again. Her body froze up with shock as it always did, but this time, something was different. She didn't get a feeling of horror or of fear - or even of anger. For a moment, it was just an empty surprise, only because she hadn't been expecting it. For a brief moment that seemed to drag into an hour, she simply stood and stared blankly, neither rejecting or accepting. For a moment, it was nothing but a question.
And then, she made that mistake - if you even would presume to go as far and call it that. Mistake or final event of something that was bound to happen, she did it and sealed her fate. Whether it was good or bad was up to the receiver. By one's standards, it can easily depend. By Comet's standards...
She made the mistake, for another brief second, of giving into it. For another moment in time, she responded to his question, simply gave up fighting for the time being. She was tired of fighting it, and let logic slip her mind and emotion come into play. Her posture relaxed, her eyes closed, and without even realizing it - kissed back. Because for that moment, she didn't think. And all she knew was how warm he was, and that he was reaching out. And even though she denied it until the deepest possible tone of her heart... she wanted to kiss back.
That one moment of bliss, of blind, impulsive relaxation. That one second of letting go cost her. As if this proved her acceptance, Cell broke the kiss. In the same, smooth, fluent motion, he leaned down and, without the slightest hesitation, sank his teeth into the smooth skin on her neck.
Reality came rushing back, in a cold, piercing wave. Her eyes shot open again and her jaw dropped in a horrified gasp, and her entire body tensed in paralysis. Her skin prickled and tingled, the icy bite riding in on another breeze from outside. Cell, lost once again to instinct, bit harder, his jaws moving rhythmically, while his arms wrapped around her back - pulling her closer to him. Her entire body trembled with cold, shock - moving with him, too weak to do anything else.
Comet remained motionless as he instructed, eyes glazing over with tears. Her face, a blank mask, betrayed no sign of pain, but the tears began to flow as her body wracked against it, wave after wave of splintering, blinding pain. The android gave no sign of noticing, still latched onto her neck, not until she finally made a noise. She gave a slight whimper, unable to hold it back any longer.
Cell finally withdrew, a slight trail of blood at the corner of his mouth. He leaned back and locked eyes with her again. She raised her chin, weakly, to meet his gaze. Her skin was unearthly pale, glowing in the moonlight pouring in, lips a faint tinge of blue from the cold. They trembled slightly as she stared back at him, her eyes glittering against her white skin. In her gaze, he read it all. The one, single question.
"C-cell..." she whimpered, entire body trembling. "Don't..."
"Don't you see why I'm doing this?" he replied softly, replying with his own question. He leaned again, gently nuzzling her cheek and neck in a reassuring way, and bringing his lips to her ear again. "I want you to be my mate."
She was silent, still drawing in trembling breaths, shaking slightly. Her eyes stared blankly forward, past him, trying to tie it all together. She didn't feel much of a stab of horror as one might have expected. After all, she knew something of this sort would undoubtedly happen, sooner or later. True, she had been blissfully oblivious as to the method how, but she knew he wanted her with him. How he finally pulled it off... unexpected. But the motive behind it was. It just came as a variety of quiet sadness...
Was it sadness? She didn't quite know what the emotions tumbling within her was. She was aware of a tremor in her stomach. Yet from what? Out of fear? Excitement? Foreboding?
What was he DOING to her...?
The ironic thing was, although Comet was far from realizing it, was that this was the precise question Cell had asked himself about her only a week before. Funny, the way feelings and emotions work.
But Cell didn't want an answer. He didn't need her consent - in a way, she had already given it - and he would have gone through with it with her consent or not. He didn't particularly need a biting, bitter comment from her, after he had lowered himself so far as to practically PLEAD for her to save him from his loneliness. He knew he was lonely, and although he had hated it at first, he had known he missed Comet. He was just giving into these feelings now, and it was a new sensation for him; lowering the barrier he had around his heart at all times...
He gently reached up and pressed two fingers to the small, still bleeding punctures in her neck. She focused her eyes on his face, blinking wearily, as he pressed harder for a few moments and then let go. The bleeding slowed, and stemmed. Cell stepped back, taking the warmth with him, and gazed into her emerald orbs one last time.
And then he vanished.
Comet didn't move for a good five minutes, staring in surprise, confusion, and still in a light trance from all that had happened and trying to cope with it at the same time. And then as it slowly came back, she looked blearily around the room, blinking. Why had he left? Where had he gone? Was this a NEW mind game to screw her up!?
"Well it's working," she growled under her breath, shivering violently and wrapping her arms around her shoulders in a feeble attempt to warm up. She cast a disdainful frown back at her bed. It was probably cold now, and she really wasn't in much of a mood to sleep anyway. She doubted she could. Damn near impossible to sleep when there's a load on one's mind... and it would probably just give nightmares anyway.
Where was the warmest room on the Lookout? Somewhere that didn't have windows and preferably had a nice fireplace installed. The only trouble was, now that she thought about it, she couldn't quite remember seeing a fire anywhere... and there seemed to be windows everywhere...
"Dammit! Kami, you really need to install some central heating or something..."
Grumbling, she crawled back into bed, ignoring the icy sheets and sitting up against the headboard as she tugged the blankets over her, trying to warm up and think at the same time.
Wait... what was that he had said?
"I'm... his mate...?" she murmured questioningly, wide eyes blinking in alarm. Slowly, she let it sink in. For fifteen minutes she sat in silence, staring blankly into space, all sorts of thoughts and questions running rampant through her mind. None of which tying together enough to make sense and most of them repeating themselves and getting horribly off track. The one clear thought she was able to pull was all that she could use to sum up her feelings at that moment, at two o' clock in the morning.
"Uh oh..."
---`---,---@
* HINT HINT; Anyone catching the symbolism out there...?