A Glimmer of Light in the Void: Chapter 7
"What do you mean you'll only pay half the amount we asked for?" Lan's heart dropped into the pit of his stomach when Biff shouts those fifteen horrible words into the tiny speaker of the cell phone that appeared massive in comparison in the man's hand.
The sudden onset of panic and terror these bundle of words had inevitably forces him to choke on the throbbing member pistoning in and out of his mouth .Trying to pull away from the two men that were split-roasting him in order to gain his breath was pointless. Strong hands easily put a stop the thrashing sixteen year old boy body. Instead of going slower: the men ravaging him appeared to get off on Steve's choking and sudden vice clenching tightness of the boy's rear. A claim whose evidence was musky payloads spurting into both the boy's orifices. Unlike the past times Lan didn't join them. Was too busy trying not choke to death on the gallons of spunk that was forced down his windpipe.
Took every ounce of Lan's will not to give into the reflex to bite down on the tube of flesh in his mouth. An action that would feel damn good for at least a moment for multiple reasons...that is until the amount of charm Lan painstakingly built up with his kidnappers these past couple days evaporates like smoke.
You are probably confused. Understandable considering you know Lanchester Stevenson Polar by a different name. Since Lan isn't the sharpest tool in the shed when it comes to intellect or imagination: you probably already guessed the name he goes by nowadays.
Anyway Steve's current position and implied enjoyment of this scene would lead an observer to believe he is where he was of his own free will. Allow me to start at a beginning of sorts to put things into perspectives.
To Steve these past couple days elongated into years since the group of men ransacked the brothers' camp while they slept and took them into this abandoned warehouse. A warehouse that became more like a prison with each passing second; an irony that the convicts whose orange jumpsuits lay in puddles on the floor (except Biff whom never took part in the festivities) would have found extremely amusing if Steve lost enough IQ points to say that thought out loud.
Several things were in the brothers' favor.
The first was that Steve had enough smarts to figure out that know matter how tough Krunk -Steve's Chatot- and his brother's Farfetch'd was: They weren't strong enough to fight off 8 vs. 4 fight at their beginner level of skill level; probably not even if they were masters. As a result of this unfortunate naked truth: Steve ordered both the 'mon to get help. Krunk escaped with the help of Valorie's (his brother's Farfetch'd ) sacrifice. The duck Pokemon wasn't dead luckily enough-
Yet.
-but with Breloom poison coursing through its veins, it was only a matter of time. Still Krunk escaped and that meant everything to Steve...even if the Chatot failed in his mission and never came back. A fact that seemed highly likely thanks to the two gunshots that appeared to clip his rear and the right wings.
Steve's shot in the dark had caused the escaped convicts to believe him a well meaning idiot. Meanwhile Don -Steve's youngest brother- didn't seem to hold anything for his sibling but absolute loathing and disgust directed at Steve's every molecule. This hate was apparently enough to blind him from understanding Steve's logic and reasoning. A hatred that consequently birthed pity from Steve's captors.
This was an event whose end result was for Steve to lose the love of the only loyal family member he had left even though they were all alive. A fact that Steve had yet to tell his new 'buddies' because to do so would sign his own death warrant.
Another was that somehow the 'guards' had enough honor to keep their end of the bargain Steve had struck with them after overhearing a certain debate his 'buddies' were having. The conditions were simple: Steve would be a good ' bitch in heat' and bend to men's whims without so much as a whimper. In return the bastards wouldn't touch a single hair on his younger brother's body. At first the convicts did nothing but scoff at the offer. But shortly afterward breaking down after a combination of Steve's charm and being left to stew in the fluid over-flooding their testicles from their time in the slammer.
That about covers the whole situation.
"What's wrong?" the man behind Lan growled through gritted teeth, apparently regaining himself rather quickly despite the tremendous orgasm he just had. Something that Lan couldn't blame him for since the fury and malice in Biff's voice had the bite of a bucketful of ice water. The authoritative power in the voices undertones was potent enough for everyone in the room to instantly stop what they had been doing and listen very attentively.
The authoritative power behind Biff's voice was the one of main reasons why Steve gave the man the title of Ring Master before learning his actual name. Was rather simple if looking at the man with the logic of a kid. Biff not only looked like the stereotypical aspect of his title with balding head, bushy curled mustache and all that; but this man was also the one that had all the ideas and called all the shots the other three wouldn't even wipe their asses without him around for fear of punishment.
Which was quite the feat considering Biff was less than half the size of every full grown male here. Smaller even. In fact Steve had one growth spurt left in him, meaning he was barely missing the 6'0 range and this guy only barely came up to the top of his belly button. Yet despite the size difference...
Everyone in this warehouse was terrified of wrath of the Ring Master.
"They only want to pay for the younger brother. According to them their other son died quite recently. Which I know is bullshit because the pair of them look almost like twins." Care to explain why they don't want to pay for your life love?"
"Yeah... I thought considering how famous they are, our million would be asking for chump change" grunted the man behind Lan. The fellow behind Lan was once called by his fellows by simply Dave. Lan however had dubbed him Grizzly in his head and made the mistake of saying the nickname out loud once. The title stuck ever since.
It was at this moment tears started to trickle down Lan's dirt and dried sweat caked face. Something that hadn't yet happened throughout this entire incident. Not only did the unknown of his current fate terrify him but a huge chasm took the place where his heart had been. Honestly Lan should have saw this coming. Did have a inkling in fact.
But God damn it! Wasn't family supposed to put all that stuff under the rug during times of crisis?!
Lan felt his insides shatter like glass and absolutely knew he was rapidly approaching an emotional collapse. However Lan had to answer the Ringmaster's question before all that if he valued his life at all. Lan's answer held all the meat of the matter with very few words. "Money no big deal. My parent's God is public opinion. Didn't care that I was gay as long as I didn't date the plebs. Hated the people they matched me with so I did a poor job of sneaking around. I'm an orphan as a result."
"In other words you were the dirty, mangy, shit smelling mutt in a room full of prissy poodles" mumbled the Biff whose face was devoid of any emotion as he began playing with a zippo lighter, a habit that Steve knew occurred when the man was deep in thought or really really pissed.
Lan nodded as he shoved a fist down his mouth just in time to stop himself from wailing; was still hyperventilating however but his earlier action was all that he could do to put a lid on the erupting volcano.
"That's rough." Bret, a chubby unremarkable man in the looks department (the one that had earlier did his damndest to shove his cock all the way into Steve's lungs) said simply as picked Steve up -Grizzly's dick squelching out of Steve's ass with a wet pop as he done so- and turned him around to face him with reassuring grin plastered on his face. "You're still too young to be a man dude so cry. No one here will give two shits."
Grizzly chuckled evilly for a moment before speaking up "You wouldn't be the group designated bitch if you didn't."
Now consumed with dark humor a sound that was more snort than laugh escaped from his throat as he said in a cracked voice "Making me feel better is a bit pointless don't you think? Since you're going to kill me just because my parents wont pay." Lan twisted his head around to the leader of the group; which was like turning towards a storm cloud.
Yet strangely Lan sensed that the anger wasn't aimed anywhere near his vicinity and even was greeted by a slight smirk when the man finally noticed he was looking at him. The answer to an unformed question came rather quickly."I may be a lot of things: but a child killer isn't one of them. Especially with Grizzly there who would likely rip me in half. Damn pedophiles..." Two out of the four convicts apparently found that rather amusing. The other in question was pouting and while Biff was just born without a sense of humor. Biff took a moment to light a cigarette before putting away his lighter "Besides you're too great of a kid and guilty of nothing besides being born the way you are." Biff took a slow long puff of the cancer stick before continuing "Don't bother trying to act tough in front of us princess; you're way too young, emotional, and transparent for that. Get it out now and save us all the headache later"
With a command like that Lan had no choice but to latch onto Brett's chest and weep.
Don chose this moment to decide to snort and spat a glob of saliva in a display of beyond obvious disgust. Than faded back into the shadows of the corner he didn't move from unless it was to eat or a bathroom break. That was another thing that was very odd to Steve: the group of convicts actually seemed to care about the siblings well being. Took care of them like some scary, misunderstood nannies.
The group -excluding Brett who was busy comforting Steve like a parent would an upset toddler - exchanged a singular glance and left the room. Presumably to decide what they were going to do with the loose end.
Ten minutes later, All of Lan's emotions seemingly deserted the moment the Ring Leader's words were comprehend; leaving him feeling that blissfully numb sensation that nearly all victims of disaster have said they experienced.
"You want Don and me to fight?" Lan found himself mumbling without consciously remembering creating those words. To Lan the words were mumbled but to the others it was with a normal, level tone but the look in Lans eye and sound in his inflection would have told anyone that he himself was far away and distant from whatever was happening to his body.
"To the death" His sibling said with nothing but consideration on his face; as if he expected something like this from the get-go and was only preparing and waiting for the unspoken words.
"with knives yes. You see princess...You've seen our faces so I can't let you roam untethered but I need to know if you can listen to commands you normally wouldn't be able to accomplish. Considering the money is already in the false bank account I've created: your brother is a loose end whose purpose has been served and needs dealt with. We're not child killers though. This is our little messed up way of solving both problems. Right here. Right now." replied Biff mirroring his other three men's and Steve's blankness but something in his tone told everyone in the room that he was serious.
During this discussion the Ring Master's minions had unbound the little brother -whom was the only one actually still tied up since Steve had built enough trust to allow his captor's not to keep him binded- and gave each sibling a knife before quickly retreating out of immediate striking range.
Lan was about to ask if he could run and grab his own clothes instead of the cum-stained costume -of what was barely considered a dress and lingerie- in a half-hearted attempt to buy time to gain the re-gain the ability to breathe and reboot the logical thinking part of his brain. Don however was already upon him, all the while shrieking with absolute maniacal glee.
Lan didn't hear that laugh or anything for that matter. Lan was too busy having an inner debate of his precious few options. Was Lan's destiny death right here in this pest infested warehouse? ...or was it to be tossed on the street penniless like an overused whore (which is what he essentially what he was at this moment- until the boy could get his feet on the ground somehow or die a ditch somewhere. All of which really horrible options.
But it was a chance at life. A shitty life filled with never healing scars... but still a life.
A chance a tiny part of his mind screamed a despair filled death wail to while his body and the biggest part of his mind that was his survival instinct screamed the most enthusiastic yell of a child who scored two tickets to Disney world.
During the time Lan was precious seconds wrestling with his inner turmoil: Don was throwing clumsy swipes at Lan's vital spots. Lan had avoided them all with the ease of a dancer with the help of the years Lan spent hardening and conditioning his body through Medley swimming, baseball, and football. Even distracted as Lan was: Don would be lucky to give Lan the equivalent of a paper cut.
Meaning this was all Lan's ball game.
Don seemed to know this fact as well because he had done something so unexpectedly dirty that even all of the convicts balked with disbelief for a moment: Don kneed Lan in the balls as hard as he could. As a result Lan saw nothing but white light as the pure agony twisted around in his insides like a jagged molten knife...A fair comparison since there was an actual knife briefly embedded in Lan's guts.
Distantly and vaguely; Lan felt Don disarm him and heard the snap of his own arm. Meanwhile Don was laughing an completely insane bellowing laugh while he yanked Lan's head upward to expose his own brother's throat for a killing blow. The pain and stress of the situation was finally enough that some merciful power detached Steve from reality. Thanks to this detachment Steve was able to view the next clusterfuck of incidents in a almost dream-like state.
Four pissed convicts veiled almost completely in the darkness of room with no other lighting then a few candles; pointing handguns and screaming various of insults and orders at Don who had broken the one and only rule: no dirty-fighting.
The bashing in of the doorway to the warehouse when a mixed team of gun toting policemen and a SWAT members stumbled in on the madness happening inside.
The trigger happy point man whom only seen the insane knife wielding teenager as the only threat firing the bullet that made the back of Don's head explode outward. Crazily a memory of Don shouting "Headshot" at one of his war games flitted past Steve's eyelids as his own body fell backward; saving him from Don's incoming fate.
This fate was to be pinned in place by the impact of hailstorm of bullets that cut his body into many separate pieces as if some crazed samurai was had decided to make mincemeat of the boy.
By now the convicts had trained their guns and systematically took down society's justice enforcers thanks purely to the environmental advantage, sheer surprise, and stupid luck they had over their opponents.
It was during this fire fight that Steve had mercifully passed out. That's how this nightmare would have ended in the normal re-runs that have haunted Steve with the smallest of reminders. With Steve powerless to do anything about the events themselves.
After the incident in this memory; Steve would later to be awakened by Grizzly whom had taken the opportunity of the boy's unconsciousness to amateurishly stitch together Steve's knife wound, re-set the boy's arm,and place it into a splint. Something that would save Steve's arm from becoming unusable in the future.
Next the remaining two convicts of the group that were Grizzly and the Ring Master had forced the boy into helping them avoid getting strung up by the law AND play nurse so that they can recover from their various of wounds they had sustained in the firefight.
Thus forcing Steve into what was -until recently- one of the oddest couple of years he would ever experience.
But these weren't normal circumstances.
Instead during the moments Lan was at the mercy of Don's knife; time seemed to slow as Lan's abused neck began birthing beads of sweat. Drops that seemed to laugh as they oozed down Steve's neck and chest, becoming almost black as they mixed with the blood and dirt found there. Lan felt a warm pulse in the very center of his being. Thinking the warmth was rage: Lan let it consume him so can snap himself out of the stupid shock he was feeling in order to punish all the bastards in the room that will/ have made his life a living hell when poor Lan had done nothing to them.
This warmth apparently had a alien hitchhiker riding shotgun.
What is justice? the alien thought was in Steve's own full-grown neutral voice asking the naked, terrified boy lying in what Steve had a suspicion was the aftermath of 3 on 1 orgy that had taken place earlier.
Lan was unable to not follow the innate instinct to humor this strange voice born of approaching madness. Vaguely Lan noticed time did seem to freeze this moment the same way that it did in the movies; forcing the boy to laugh humorlessly. Meanwhile Lan parroted the definition any smuck could find in a dictionary as if he had read it so many times he had memorized it word for word:
"The administration of law according to prescribed and accepted principles."
Lan could feel the voice shake it's head with disappointment as it repeated it's question "What is justice?"
Now sufficiently confused; Steve tried his own personal definition "Well-measured and covertly placed revenge."
"Correct. Next question: Have you been gifted your justice?"
Lan was about to lie and thought better of it; the fucker in his head seemed to know all the answers anyway. "No. Most that wronged me died before I could. The rest are protected by the law that I serve."
Lanchester was referring to Don about the first part. The second was the birth parents whom had managed to elude Steve since that night many years ago when eventually the press of the whole incident made them fall off the face of the planet. Before that disappearance however the law protected the fucking bastards. Even with Lan's falsified background and identity: Lan couldn't approach them without throwing his life away in the process.
Lan surprisingly didn't hold one tiny bit of grudge for his captors turned Daddies. An amusing title for their relationship if there ever was one since the pseudo-guardians/convalescent friends were just roommates that never screwed each other. Just Lan, if one the escaped convicts were desperate for a fuck...or so they said anyway. Lan's portion of the give-and-take relationship was knowledge. From more life lessons than you can shake a stick at. To being taught in the ways of the criminal and to co-exist with them without losing his own identity.
In fact it's why Steve was so good at his job since it essentially takes stepping into a criminal's shoes to catch them. In other words thanks to his Daddies: Steve became better actors than his birth parents could ever even dream to be. Something rather amusing since that's how the family received the money that they lived off of. Steve owed his captors for who he was and had today. Loved them both dearly and was very thankful that they'd stepped into his life to show him what real love and loyalty was.
Gods rest their beautiful misunderstood souls.
In fact: the similarities between Steve's and Elliot's lives was what made Steve so determined to help the boy. Even though the man would never admit that out loud or too himself.
"Correct. Why are you an agent of justice?"
A simple enough question even though that title sure as hell wasn't what he wouldn't call himself. Too corny "To eventually soothe my own lust for something that I know I can never have." Sad thing was that this selfish wish was doing a lot of good...well not really good per say, but it sure as hell was balancing the scorecard that the bitch named Karma was keeping.
Sooo agent of Karma?
...Nah still too corny.
"Time for justice is nigh. Are you prepared?"
Hell to the yes. As if Steve had spoken aloud the voice seemed to almost snicker with a combination of amusement and excitement. Two bright lights began to emit in Steve's palm. The one on the left seemed to slither and wrap tightly around Steve's left wrist and halfway up his arm before the bright light disappeared to reveal a gauntlet with what looked like a muzzle and trigger. This trigger was child's play for the boy's middle and ring finger to reach.
The other glow in Steve palm had began to stretch as if made entirely out of silly putty. This mass continued to grow until the staff of light was exactly 75 inches long in length and then solidified into a light that had the consistency of metal. On the top most end was a three prong jagged looking blade which immediately upon forming those three prongs began to imitate a chainsaw as if powered by some electrical current from an unknown source. On the other end was a metal loop that looked very eerily close to a key chain.
"Chainsaw spear. Neat" Though the weapon was simple, Steve thought it was.
"More complex than that, sorry to burst that bubble. What's the first thing that comes to mind when you think of the name Origami other than stupid paper-made animals?"
"A shape changer for some reason."
"Bingo. A voice commanded one at that. This is Ori, whom like you said is a spear with a little unique twist. The rest of the weapon's secrets can be unlocked by playing with her full name. You're a smart guy; you'll figure these forms and their uses out with time"
"Can't it-" Lan began before the alien rudely interrupted:
"No it's a girl Lanchester. No arguing"Tone seemed to have a fatherly edge to it now.
"It's Lan" Lan said automatically without one bit of thought before he comprehended those words and it hit him like a unseen blow "NO! It's Steve asshole"
"Ok Lan. The other half of your weapon is on your left wrist. You can call him Fly, whom is also is voice activated. Tutorial over but please don't put away your notebook."
Before Steve could say "What?" time suddenly unfroze and Steve found himself being controlled like a puppet; A feeling all dreamers are very familiar with. Steve's left arm raised up towards the door and press the trigger with his middle and ring finger. Immediately something that whirled like a drill shot like a shiny grey bullet out the muzzle of the gauntlet and went right through the wood and metal door like butter. As soon as the grey drill bullet made contact with the door: the prongs on metal apparatus immediately stopped whirling and then proceeded to bloom like a metal flower whom was part venus flytrap. Thus embedding the door with its sharp hooks.
"A Gatling hook? How in the hell is that useful in a fight?"
"Fly" the puppet duly croaked and was immediately was realed as if he was nothing but a fish being pulled in by a fishing rod. The puppet zipped to it's destination so quickly that it almost didn't have time to twist itself around so that it landed on the door feet first in a crouching position, as if it were possible to defy gravity with enough speed.
As the Gatling hook was reeled back into it master's holder with a simple metallic Kachink: the puppet waited for the slams against the door to be enough to break the 2x4 that served as the door's current locking mechanism: a hand was waved seemingly dismissively towards the four men hiding in the shadows on the catwalk in the utmost portion of the warehouse as if in afterthought. The -this time- completely innocent men were immediately sent backwards by the resulting magnetic pulse and out of the two story back window and into the same overgrowth that was doing it's very best trying to reclaim the spot the abandoned warehouse resided back into the forest's loving folds.
"Origami!" the puppet shouted as the door finally folded under the punishment of those people were throwing at it, At the same moment the puppet cut the magnetic power of the soles of his feet to nothing so that he could be catapulted at the main focal point of many of his recurring nightmares. Meanwhile the puppet managed to pull the sansetsukon at arm's length. Each tip of the weapon screeching with the same whirling blades as the spear; though small enough as to not get in the way of the mobility and minimize the drop aerial dynamics the weighted metal would sure to create compared against a non-customized one.
As if realizing what was in store for it: the true monster of the nightmare who'd committed the sin of betrayal inhaled really big as if to scream. But only almost had the chance to before both slamming into solid metal at almost 80 miles per hour: turning poor Don into mush as every bone in his body was reduced into splinters that ruptured each and every vital and non-vital organ inside the boy.
Meanwhile the puppet swinging by it string from the roof wrestled with the remaining blackness in it's still bleeding but slowly healing heart as it lowered itself onto the floor.
They stopped you from acquiring your revenge last time
They should die
DIEDIEDIE
Convicts too for the humiliation they put us through
Kill them all!
DIEDIEDIE!
The men watched the boy's progress with confusion,disbelief and awe at the feats they had witnessed rush by in mere seconds. Each watching nervously as the boy slowly approached with his weapons drawn.
"Freeze!" the point-man shouted as he trained his gun on Lan who was still slowly stumbling forward. "I said FREEZE!" screamed the point man whose voice cracked then eeped like a girl when all of his forces weapons were yanked forcefully from their arms.
The demon boy was sure to be upon them now! The man closed his eyes and waited patiently for the pain sure to come. Only to eep like frightened pre-school girl when shakily weak arms encircled around his midriff in a hug.
"T-Take m-me home p-please s-sir"
With that statement Lan's world became the murky, blissful darkness of unconsciousness
At first Steve didn't realize that he had opened his eyes until he blinked them rapidly for a full minute. A bus hit Steve then, breaking a hundred miles an hour when the man's panic screamed out that he was most surely blind. After thrashing for many moments as if fighting that reality:Steve became tuckered out enough for calm to slowly to take root inside his brain. Luckily right before the aging man could damage his ticker anymore with pointless stress. With that calmness memories that explained Steve's current predicament came flying past his mind's eye with the quickness of a picture book.
I'm going to kill Mew once I get out of here. I will! No matter how long that goal takes me.
With that promise was made Steve tried moving his arms again but this time with slow experimentation instead of thrashing in panic. The whole time thinking like all men would if they were trapped inside a huge mess:
"I'm gonna punch, kick, and tear my way out of this shit. That's what I ought to do." Steve attempted this with all his laboriously acquired muscle but once again only managed to tucker himself out further. "It's fucking skintight like latex, can't move!"
Now Steve was getting sleepy again. Probably thanks to the recent activities, panic- induced stress, and low level oxygen."Don't even think about it you fucker!" Rage was beginning to consume him no matter how much he breathed deeply to calm his rapidly climbing heart rate as terror and panic came in a close second and third place.
Finally Steve gave up keeping his emotions in and roared loudly with frustration clear in his tone "If only I had a knife or something sha-" Steve's dream came back to him then at that moment and he once again tried but again failed to move his arm. No face palms for this old cat I guess.
That last thought made Steve grit his teeth in fury and then proceeded to dare the gods to give him one. Just one fucking feline quality. Steve had then at that moment decided that he would rip whatever it was off just to spite them.
Unless it was his eyes or ears or nose or tongue or manhood...Steve sort of needed those.
The rear end of that eerie thought made Steve shiver.
Seconds later a bright light flashed from inside the cocoon and a three prong spear point whirled like a some kind of excited insect.... or a buzz saw. Whatever came to mind first.
A minute or two of tearing and clawing later Steve finally crawled out of his prison; debating now if it would be worth setting it on fire and pissing on it's ashes. Course the hospital, it's officials, patients, doctors, nurses, and any other living thing in the building might take issue with those action though. Hell the janitor would most definitely take issue with the piss.
Ah well, I'll just wipe my ass with it later. Fuck the plumbing damages that it could cause as a result.
With another promise made: Steve began taking in his surroundings.
Hospital room.
That's all Steve got before any and all other information became meaningless when nature's call told him that certain pipes were seconds away from imploding.
A fact that was known by nearly half the hospital when ears picked up the singular wail that carried no words but held all the feelings of surprise, agony, and life vs. death desperation. Being what the place was: no one paid the tortured soul the faintest hint of sympathy other than the pitying wince that veteran soldiers give the fresh meat during the treatment of their first bullet wound.
Meanwhile Steve was currently wishing with all that he had that he was one of those characters in those books where the person could just flip a switch and shut off all awareness of an unpleasant situations. Kind of like a fugue state. Sadly no genie or God or fairy princess was listening; so Steve was forced to endure each and every vile noise and sensation of him birthing the offering(s) he was throwing into the earthbound God's gaping maw. Steve whom always been one for toilet humor and never squeamish of the glory of the human body: was way beyond the point of vomiting...but was way too afraid of what would come up to say hi.
"I'm-dying-Oh Hail all the Marys Steve is leaving this mortal coil and coming Home I'm-dying-I'm-" Somehow through all the dying and the melodrama: Steve had heard the three knocks that echoed quite loudly in the little room. Internally Steve was crazily singing the very few lyric to 'K-k-knocking on Heaven's door'. Outwardly Steve was gazing slack-jawed at the noise, not quite believing there was an intermission period in Hell.
"Are you alright hun? Do I need to get-" Steve who had seen enough of the room to know that Trevor had been still trapped before his stumble into hell. A simple calculation was made that forced Steve to interrupt Trevor with a full blown bellow before Trevor could even form the word 'doctor' in mind and mouth:
"TREVOR FUCK PLEASANTRIES, KICK THE DOOR DOWN TO THE CLOSEST BATHROOM AND DO IT NOW OR GOD SO HELP YOU-!" Steve didn't even get a chance to finish before another wave of misery overtook him, causing the tortured soul to echo out it's agony in a wailing moan instead. Fortunately footsteps were already making a beeline away from the door. Either Trevor heard the note of panic in Steve's message or nature's siren was blaring for him to. Didn't really matter in the end Steve supposed; especially since he had his own load of problems to deal with.
Steve moaned miserably for what was probably the tenth time in the past couple minutes as his distraction abandoned him. Once again leaving poor Steve to vile things,goose flesh, full bodied shakes, feverish daydreams, death, and the steady noise of the almost satisfying click and gurgle of a choking porcelain God.
"Please just kill me off and get it over with already" Steve grumbling to no-one as he attempted to turn around carefully so he could both support himself upright and lay his way too warm forehead against the icy cool of the porcelain tanktop.
It wasn't until an hour later that the pair had finally finished the standard shit ,shower, and shave routine. Then it was off to the cafeteria to devour a whole buffet worth of food and to glare at anyone that would dare evilly at anyone foolish enough to try tell them that they had enough when they weren't satisfied yet. After everything was said and done: the unstoppable duo was ready.
Ready to kill a particular feline demon sent to them from the lowest underbellies of Hell.
Course it probably wasn't a good idea to go after a threat so lethal with only their measly pea-shooters and hounds as a front assault and back-up respectively... But when mortals are consumed with rage and thoughts of revenge: they tend to reach out for whatever weapons that are most familiar.
Even if the power comparison is the equivalent of waving sticks at a nuclear war-head.
The agents surprisingly knew exactly where they had to go to reach their target despite never navigating a singliar step in the unknown hospital they were in or never asking for help. An observer could guess that with enough luck and gut intuition, anything was possible. Others would say the pair cheated and used their newfound telepathy abilities to scan each room they passed for their target. Maybe those in the faith would say that it was divine intervention that led them to that room.
Well the author says they BS'd the crap out their little problem.
When the door to the room was kicked inward with Steve being the point man while Trevor came at his rear:
Nobody in the room batted an single eyelash.
Course it helped that the group of ten or so doctors,nurses, and Pokemon in the room appeared rather busy keeping surveillance on both bodies of Mew and Jayne lying side-by-side on the only two beds in the room in order to keep the pair from dying. A rather big chore considering both girl's and Pokemon's vitals would suddenly spike, then just as suddenly drop down into a flat-line, and then become stable again. Sometimes the problem would fix itself before the medical personnel could even lift a single finger. Sometimes the medical professionals actually had to do something to jump start whatever vital had shut down.
So in essence: the room was a chaotic hell.
Whether it was canceled from the room's state of confusion or the disappointment the pair felt: there was going be no grand final battle of good vs. evil today. The agents reluctantly put their gun's and Pokeballs away just when one something finally noticed them.
The sarcophagus that was standing upright against a corner that somehow -despite having bright coloring of a shining gold and flamboyant navy blue patterns so light that it was almost different color contrast entirely- might as well have been dubbed invisible to the other ninety-eight percent of the room; suddenly spoke telepathically into their mind's ear:
"Don't bother Lightlings. The witch doctors and the green fairy are nothing more than living dead taking post over the corpses on the bed." As if to emphasise the word 'corpse' the apparent living coffin's real face flickered into view as it's side's 'opened up' to reveal four blob-like arm's that seemingly had the consistency as smoke. In a pair of the Cofagrigus's hands it cradled an egg whose design appeared to be the hints of a fist-sized face being hugged by a midnight shade of darkness.
Upon seeing this Steve turned to Trevor and asked "Why is a Cofagrigus talking English at us?"
Trevor shrugged and replied with "I'm more curious of the fact a Ghost type seems to be an ally rather than the enemy like Mew said they were going to be in one of her lectures."
Steve responded by chuckling and elbowing Trevor good-naturedly in the ribs while muttering "Only you would have that as your first thought. Why is it always 'friend or foe' with you?"
Again Trevor shrugged while both returned their attention back to the 'mon who was staring at them with eerily unblinking amusement; seemingly not appearing to mind being talked about like a puppy who had done a neat trick. Even breathed a ghost of a chuckle as it answered the pair's asked but not directly asked questions. "I was human once and from that part of the world that speaks the language fluently. As for the question of allegiance: I was a very good friend of Mew's in life. So much so that apparently not even heaven,hell, or a stupid god-forsaken war will change my friendship with that idiotic furball. Besides; if the other side can have bloodthirsty Dragons of all things for allies then we can have well-meaning Caspers flying around."
Steve and Trevor shared a brief glance before simultaneously saying in the same blank way "You are Mew's friend."
The 'mon actually began laughing outloud "Yeah... well... give it time. Once you spend a ounce of your time with this bunch you'll be over explaining yourself as well. I'll try to keep it to the utmost minimum for my sanity as much as yours."
Trevor flashed an almost toothy grin as he waved dismissively at the seemonly friendly Confagrigus "No need. I'm already used to Steve's flood. I can wad through any word wall with only a minor soaking now." Trevor drew a sharp intake of breath when Steve ebowed him not-so good naturedly way in the gut which quite obviously robbed the air from Trevor's lungs.
"I just had to marry the wise guy...just wait till we're alone again and I'll show you a flood." Trevor gulped audibly but had the barest hint of a smirk as if he wouldn't really mind that threat of a promise all too much.
Meanwhile the Ghost type chilled the whole room with it's step beyond eerie laughter; when it finally calmed down it said "Ha ha hee hee You guys are a riot! Try to keep the crude humor to minimum though when Jayne hatches please? I don't want her to ask questions that she would be way too young for the answers yet or for her puberty to activate too early like those tramps you see on TV."
The agents opened their mouths, closed them, then opened them again, only to close them again. After a shared glance that seemed to reveal a exchange of telepathy without words: they mirrored a shrug as if both surprised and not surprised at this little tidbit of news.
Stranger events had happened to them in the past couple of weeks after all.
This time in the silence both did seem to speak to each other telepathically based on the reactionary facial expressions that flickered and fled on both of their faces. Finally Steve coughed and said aloud "And on that note we're going to get some air."
"That's nice dear. Would you bring Jayne with you? I'm afraid she'll become a fat pig on the gloom and doom of this room. I was going to ask Hamleck on his way out but changed my mind when the poor thing seemed half-dead from exhaustion and worry. "
Steve thought for a moment about saying a politely worded no; but then realized he really didn't have a reason. Not to as long as both of them kept an eye out for hungry Pokemon looking for a free meal during Trevor's and his exploratory sparring match. Something that would be mere child's play thanks to drilled in paranoia and seemingly heightened senses born from simply being a Light One.
"Sure" Steve and Trevor said dully with a hint of grump bleeding in both their tones.
Just because they were cornered into becoming literal babysitters didn't mean they had to like it.
Just as the pair began to leave the room with their forced-on-them charge: the mama 'mon called out "Don't have too much fun out there. Mew's exact orders were to have a last check-up before the five of us pack up to travel."
Well THAT news came like a slap to the face.
"We're leaving tomorrow?" echoed Steve
"Five of us? whimpered Trevor
"Well Mew's exact orders were Hamleck, Jayne's egg, and you two. But I'll be damned if I send my baby out into a dangerous world with only a pair of tiddly-fuck strangers as guardians" There was an awkward pause before the ghost hastily added "No offence guys; but to all mama's all strangers are ignorant tidly-fucks."
"None taken" muttered the duo as they began walking away again, both seemingly dazed and aged a good 30 years in seconds. Once they were gone Mama Judy grinned happily "A pair of nice lads those two were even with that sharp grumpy edge to them. Lots and lots of potential in them me thinks..." The mon's eyes were dulling as she became lost in a daydream "Reminds me of my own in another life, another time." With that the Confagrigus yawned before quickly falling back into the nap she was in before the two agents barged in unannounced.
Along the way to outside the building the duo had nothing to really talk about other than their dreams. Steve did most of the talking of course since Trevor was one of those type of people who found dreams so trivial and meaningless that they weren't worth holding onto. The only useful nugget Steve was able to get out of him was the vague "they were nightmares with good ending twist." From that small tidbit Steve was able to gleam a fact he had already known since Mew's first couple hours at their little abode:
Both sides of this damn war was filled with manipulative cunts with very powerful tactics of brainwashing.
Sad thing was the self confidence gained from defeating one's own inner personal demons in a struggle fit for television was so intoxicating that you had not choice but to swallow what was being forcefully spoon-fed into you.
That included the clever messages of "All bad guy's must be dealt with and as brutally as possible" and the "There is only right and wrong with nothing in between." Things soldiers were told in many different ways, many different times before they witness the true bloody brutality of war firsthand. That wasn't the most depressing part however.
Most if not all of these people in the fucking war are nothing but kids fresh out of diapers! They should be home playing X-box and sneaking peaks at porn; not being turned into some Nazi secret police clones !" The sudden explosion of rage bubbling up from Steve's gut at that current moment from an overloaded Bullshit Meter was enough that the egg both the agents had been passing back and forth like a football had been sent flying a lot farther then he had meant it to.
It was due to sheer stupid luck and a little thanks to Trevor's intuition, quick reflexes, and being constantly aware of the people and objects in his surroundings/paranoia that Jayne's egg didn't transform into a runny mess that some poor bastard of a janitor would be forced to clean up.
Trevor may be clumsy like newborn deer when it's his own body was in jeopardy but when it's any other smuck then he turns into fucking Superman. A fact that was always amusing to Steve no matter what mood he was in.
Steve's current mood however was apparently an exception to that rule.
Trevor said nothing about the almost accident however, just continued playing with the fragile football with a care one usually reserved for walking on eggshells. Pardon the pun.
Finally the pair had made it to their destination of what qualified as the backyard garden of the hospital. Seems that they weren't the only ones to come up with the idea of getting some fresh air, exercise, and self-discovery. Far from it in fact since there seemed to dozens of children and very few adults taking advantage of the warm summer weather to do just that.
Trying to not think too hard about the almost but not too ludicrous thought of being one of many animals following the same odd biological impulse that was bred into the species ages ago: Steve just grit his teeth and gave into the desire to start legging it in a full tilt untethered sprint into the a cornfield that grew adjacent to the property. During that little sprint Steve 's mind became blissfully blank in the sudden rush of endorphins, causing a rather pleasant high that almost anyone would feel from eating 100 yards of distance in mere seconds.
Well I sure as hell wasn't expecting that... What am I part gazelle? Steve thought as the wind induced teary eyed vision of the field lunged closer with quick leaps and bounds.
Suddenly rude, laughing dark inner voices ruined Steve's high by whispering:
10 bucks says Trevor gets super durability.
Would only make sense in a cosmic sort of way.
You guys do fit together like puzzle pieces after all.
Especially since you indirectly run away from your problems while he takes on his like a man when shit starts getting too real for the timid little bear cub to take lying down.
Pop went Steve's pleasant balloon ride and back he went into the prison pit of gloom and rage.
Still Steve managed an amused grin when Trevor's annoyed glare fell upon him in-between the rapid, heavy intakes for air all heavier massed individuals and their loved ones are very used to hearing. "I...*pant* *pant* hate *pant* *wheeze* you *pant* you show-off *cough* *gasp*"
Not even a little bit winded; Steve's grin didn't falter, only widened. Steve took a moment to observe his wheezing partner with probing eyes that had more clinical intentions than ones of lust; a feat that was much more difficult to accomplish than it sounded given the past blue-balling couple of weeks.
Subtracting the reduced muscle mass from a few weeks of inactivity: nothing about the Trevor in front of him was visually different from the one in Steve's memory of the one before those past couple of weeks. This lack of a notable change surprised Steve to some degree since Mew had warned them previously of various of possible physical changes.
One of which slammed into Steve's skull like a baseball flying at full tilt from Babe Ruth's baseball bat.
Steve's hand quickly pried the waistband of his grey sweatpants away from his body and risked a glance down before the terror had the chance to grip him completely. As if being born of the same wavelength Trevor mirrored the same action with the same expression of pure undulated terror shining with the same brilliance of a fire work on his face.
Both agents breathed a sigh of relief when Mr. Happy told them in his own way that everything was A-Ok in this part of town.
"Thank God." both swore in the same whispered breath and began to laugh simultaneously with the same higher-pitched nervousness that many people exhibit when told how close the bullet that nearly ended their life actually was. Both shared a look before Trevor got up on some unspoken command and got close enough for Steve to grip and pull the clone of the undershirt that hugged Steve's own torso up and off his chest.
Steve stared slack-jawed at the sight in-front of him for a couple moments before ever so tentatively, inch by everlasting inch: stroked Trevor's blank unblemished back. Judging from Trevor's sharp intake of breath and start as if someone placed an ice-cube on the area instead of a hand: the nerve receptors were also healed and were sensitive to any and all stimuli.
Not only that but the stab, shot, slash, and other various long-ago scars were also healed as if they had never been there at all. Now confident that this fact could actually be real: Steve became happy for Trevor. An emotion well founded from the knowledge of just how self-conscious and ashamed Trevor was of of his own body thanks to his various battle scars; a secret that was only between the married men. At that moment for the first time in his life Steve wished that he had a mirror on him so he can show the man his non-existent wounds instead of relying solely on the sensation of touch.
Not that touching Trevor was ever a bad thing Steve thought with evil, mischievous snicker of delight.
But for some reason Steve couldn't fathom: the sight of the non-existent scars added another shovelful of fuel into the temper that as of yet hadn't shown signs of appearing on the surface.
Not that Steve had long to debate the reason for the increase of anger since the adorable child-like whoop of glee that came from Trevor throat slapped that thought away in favor for the startled yelp of surprise when Trevor's frying pan sized mitts suddenly roughly gripped the bottom of Steve's shirt before gently yanking up and over Steve's head. During the experience a dark thought wiggled it's way into the forefront of Steve's mind:
Look at us...full grown men acting like a bunch of virgin teenagers getting ready to have their first awkward fumble in the dark. It's just as sad as it's freaking ridiculous!
At that point the cold-detached logical part of Steve took over and wasn't at all surprised to see that his gut had disappeared and in it's place was the six-pack he'd craved for in his teens. But now years later into adulthood he pretty much cared equally about them as one would a passing ant's well being. Sure Trevor's was sexy. But since in all honesty: even the man's snoring habit was sexy to Steve, so that wasn't saying very much. Steve was also sure that if could see his own back he would also find that his own battle scars obtained from a combination of various life-or-death strifes and hard-knock life were also gone.
While Trevor appeared seemingly to barely keep himself bouncing from glee: Steve was glaring at the six pack he had unintentionally cheated for with a gaze that could spoil milk; as if demanding for his stomach to bow to the inwardly shouted commands to return to what was his.
It was during this moment that Steve realized why he was becoming disgusted and pissed off with his own body. Two very big reasons to be precise. The first and very simple reason was the fact that Steve didn't work for this image; more accurately it was yet another thing that was shoved down his throat. The second reason was the biggest and deeper reason why the change upset him so greatly: Steve's scars was the only document left of his -though dark- still very personal past.
The past of Lanchester to be precise. Without the scars: Lan and the events that happened to him might as well never existed; didn't exist actually exempt from Steve's memory of them.
"What's wrong?" Seemed Trevor finally calmed down enough to see the expression on Steve's face. Steve did his best to ice it but not quite succeeding; at least he was able to keep the anger was completely hidden from his tone.
"Nothing." Steve said coolly with the slightest of uncaring shrugs before grinning again. "Take off your pants for me please. I want to see if the anything odd is happening down there." Now Trevor was becoming squeamish like a little girl who was told to lift up her dress for the male doctor's inspection. The reasoning for that quickly became obvious with his almost whispered reply:
"The underwear they left me for me was too small. Was too much of a bother to ask for a larger pair so I went without."
Steve's betterment of mood was as instantaneous as it was gratuitous. He was now smiling wolfishly despite himself. "Nothing I haven't seen before love."
"It's not you that I'm worried about seeing idiot. It's the fact we are in the open with dozens or so people -most if not all appear to be kids- walking around as if this area was hosting a summer festival."
"And I'm saying we're too far out for you to be worried about anything. If we aren't then we just kick the unlucky bastard's ass for stepping unknowingly into our curtain of privacy; if that will so help the baby feel better. Now. drop. them." Steve said in a dangerous tone that told there would be no argument in this issue; A threat so potent that Trevor's old war veteran Army Commander of a father would shed a single proud tear if he'd had been within hearing range.
Trevor only hesitated for only the briefest moments, only long enough to growl out "I. Hate. You." in an equally dangerous 'there will be blood for this' type of growl -a threat that both knew would go the same amount of nowhere as the slippery slope that was Miley Cyrus's singing career- and complied with his husband's demands: an action that made Steve ludicrously happy.
So happy that Steve couldn't resist stretching the staring contest the two had going on as long as possible until Trevor was almost swimming in nervous sweat. Even then Steve's eyes only made slow progress down Trevor's bare form as if taking mental snapshots of every inch along the way. Even forcing the poor squirming man to turn around s l o w l y, as if Trevor was posing for a swim suit photographer. Eventually Trevor passed Steve's inspection and was allowed to "Pull them up."
"Your turn asshole" Trevor spat furiously with all sorts of embarrassment and extreme arousal thrown into the blended mixtures of emotions revealed in his tone.
Steve complied with the grace and ease of a man with nothing to hide and who reveled at the chance to become nude; especially in public. Even had the gall to kick his clothes away as if glad to be rid of such uncomfortable torture devices.
Both surprised at the quickness and way this action was performed and a lot of pissed off and even more aroused now then he was before: Trevor gave Steve a far quicker and more reserved scan then what Steve had made him endure before stuttering the expected command like a tongue-tied school boy. "Y-y-you can put em back on. Y-you're fine- Ok I mean." the last part was added in a rather rapid-fire rush.
Steve complied but not before flashing Trevor an arrogant grin, bow, and giving Trevor a small 'totally' innocent show as he bent over to retrieve his clothing.
With that the image of the two fresh faced virgin lover exchange was complete.
"So no feline physical traits it looks like." Trevor tried to say coolly but failing miserably of sounding anything other than an uncomfortable little boy who wants to flee and hide for a little while.
"Nope." Steve replied blankly with a coy smile that didn't seem to ever want to leave remaining firmly planted on his face.
"So...now what?" questioned Trevor, finally becoming calm again as curiosity swept all else under the rug.
"Now for the cliché-" Steve suddenly made his voice extremely high pitched and boyish for this next bit "-'Golly gosh let's see what neat tricks we can do now' thing." This at least tickled Trevor to some degree even though the humor was lost completely to Steve. Glad that he done it though since Trevor was slowly bringing Steve back to himself piece by tiny fragment of those pieces by simply doing nothing but being himself.
Recovering from reality shattering events, corpses that were best left buried becoming unearthed again, and salt being thrown into old wounds was not as easy to bounce back from as media made it appear to be. Especially when they all came out from their hiding places one after another in rapid succession, almost simultaneously.
"How do we go about doing that? I haven't really felt any different then I was before since waking up. Hell I thought it was all for nothing until that little 0 to 60 mph sprint you just pulled off back there... Do we just ask someone for poin-?"
"No. We don't ask for help from them. Ever." Steve spat venomously before calming down and explaining himself "Sure the whole lot of them would be all too eager to help their weakers and newbies like the good samaritans they are. Probably get off on it. The only problem is we wouldn't get a moment's peace because we shown that tiny bit of weakness."
Trevor elaborated from where Steve left off with a 'I'm just talking to myself' mumble "As if we reminding them that we're the 'poor dumb' foreign exchange students that someone forgot to assign a guide to. What would be an answer to a simple question would lead to them trying to do everything excluding wiping our ass for us. Never-minding the fact that we have enough common sense and wit to figure out 9/10 of the things they know through deductive reasoning and common sense."
"Yes and I wouldn't put it past them to even attempt the ass wipe thing." growled Steve in a low mutter before adding a quick clipped "Yup we're on our own on this one like always. Lets put our heads together then."
So they did. Took a full twenty minutes of meditation later until Trevor remembered the events surrounding the boy. "Wasn't Elliot and the rat exhibiting all almost normal seeming until the second time that Darkrai attacked? Opposite sides of the spectrum I know but the similarities between us should still exist."
Steve was about to dismiss Trevor's question entirely just because it sounded like an illogical leap and they were both still sensitive about the subject. But then Steve saw the same connections. "Yeah... and after that they became smart. Way too smart as if both seemed to have a sudden IQ boost that would make any scholar green with envy. Yet they didn't exhibit any sort of supernatural powers. The only odd instance was the day at the school when both were almost radiating that particular purple glow as if they escaped from the pages of some magic-related comic book."
"Manga" Trevor whispered under his breath
"What was that?" questioned Steve who was still half in a daze at the time.
"Nothing" Trevor dismissed quickly, trying to hid the fierce blush that overtook his face.
Steve stared at Trevor suspiciously for a moment before slowly saying "Anyway... the other thing that's off is we still don't have an answer for why Darkrai spent so much time on the boy. We assumed at the time that Cresselia done something to block any sort of dark progress. We were so sure on this that we didn't even ask in all the times that we got the chance. Given what we know about the blasted bird now however; it's extremely safe to assume that she didn't even make a token attempt. Which leaves only one other option-"
"It was actually the boys' very will that stopped them from turning bad. In a last ditch attempt by their inner light so to speak" Trevor finished with an air of dawning understanding. Their was a brief lapse in epiphanies before Trevor began to speak again. "Which would logically mean Dark Ones and Light Ones have the option to refuse the destiny being shoved into their faces. They have to be convinced to accept what they are with open arms."
"Which is why it takes so damn long for the recruitment process to happen and why there is only a few dozen of us running around on both sides instead of hundreds or thousands despite this damn war and it's setting up crawling around in the span of hundreds of years. That's the real reason why Darkrai spent so much time with the boy!"exclaimed Steve with quickly mounting excitement.
"So that damn cocoon thing was just a forced episode of Spring cleaning. We're not actually Light Ones yet. Just guys that got a stat boost. Probably temporary." Trevor muttered in the same breath as a sigh.
Relief washed over them both like a really warm shower; if a slightly salty one.
"I actually can't believe we get a choice." Steve said exhibiting all the signs of stunned disbelief.
"Neither can I." Trevor replied, mirroring Steve's expression. A moment silence occurred before Trevor added "You know...we're far enough away that we can make a run for it and never look back. Mew's sorta down for the count. Noone else is strong enough to track us after a certain set amount of distance."
"and we're not exactly tethered to bedpost either." muttered Steve with a deliberating expression on his face.
Both agents grinned glumly, already knowing what the other one was thinking before Steve brought the thought into life "We're already in too deep to pull out now."
Trevor sighed deeply before taking Steve's hand in his and yanking him close enough that only their interlocking arms kept them from the skin on skin contact. Both their bodies suddenly began screaming so very randomly and out of place that both were momentarily gobsmacked until natural impulses were quickly squashed into whimpers.
This was neither the time nor place for any of that.
After this brief moment Trevor said what he was going to say prior to the interruption "Just don't let go or I'll lose my nerve."
Steve grinned before laughing rather belly deep for the first time in what felt like ages "I'm not exactly Mr. Nerves-of-Steel either Lil' bear. I need you to hold my weight just as much as you need my strength." As if to reinforce his words Trevor felt the grip squeezing his palm tighten to the point that bones began to pop.
"Yeah... but you're a fearless lion compared to this mewling terrified kitten during the tiniest hint of a thunderstorm"
"Ugh don't even mention the word cat in a joking manner; you'll jinx the shit out of us and I'll start coming at you swinging."
"Right...sorry. Count of 3, like a band-aid?"
"Yup."
"3"
"2"
"1" on the last syllable of this word both men closed their eyes. Immediately entering a state that requires at least an hour's worth of meditation to achieve in merely seconds; seemingly not even breathing except for the occasional slow almost imperceivable rise and fall of their chest occurring at a sleepers pace.
Not a sound was heard during this episode except for the howl of a lone gust of wind that stirred the cornstalks that veiled them from even the most determined probing roaming pair of eyes. Eventually after a full minute both whispered two words under their breath as if answering a third or even fourth party member.
"I accept."That same light began to bathe the pair in a light that had an almost eerie similarity to the kind of light Pokemon emit during the evolution process.
Once the light cleared changes to both bodies were immediately evident to the pair when they finally opened their eyes again. Fear and panic took root before acceptance gripped them in it's calming hug.
Those changes were then explored with curious hands -paws now- and sand papery tongues a like as long tails, cone-shaped ears, nose pads, and whiskers twitched with anticipation and various different muscle groups of each muscle bound man were flexed for experimentation, show, and because the sheer feel of it all felt so damned good.
The two made love in that field of corn that day; neither one caring a bit of a damn of the possible chance of discovery and consequences. Afterward a long period of nothing but a dead silent relaxing period settled in; both dozing on and off until very late into the afternoon.
Eventually the two now anthropomorphized agents of man summoned their weapons and devised a training regiment that was mostly just a exploratory sparring match and body building. Course they had a bit of assistance from the faintest memory of a past dream or two. Divine dream intervention aside the pair just went with the flow of what their instincts and insanely great intuition told them to do.
A cautious Hamleck watched the pair go at it for quite a while before making his presence known and joining in the fun; something the pair would be very grateful for later during the events that were to come after the following days. But for now the fighting was only for fun and self-discovery.
And through all this drama Jayne's egg observed them in its silent nearly forgotten presence; the mask that was it's design seemed more somber than usual though as if it sensed some sort of blood thirsty predator stalking into view just beyond the horizon.
And just because it would be cliché to end yet another entry of this bizarre tale in a vague hint of incoming disaster: this storyteller would like to end it on a different note.
After the day of training was said and done, Steve and Trevor received the best dose of good news that they had in weeks; quite possibly years:
Steve and Trevor wouldn't be spending the rest of their lives coughing up furballs under sofas or suddenly finding themselves chasing laser pointers for others amusement.
The agents feline forms were about as temporary as a werewolf curse whose on/off button was quickly discovered after the end of the first transformation. Some divine power must have been listening to their prayers since the only feline quality that bled into their normal human form were the odd gold and silver feline eyes that their previous Light One transformation had: a flaw that was extremely unnoticeable unless you were inches from their faces.
Each transformation hurt as if each and every tiny pain receptor was being set aflame because their bodies and DNA weren't used to being man-handled like Play-dough. But with time and enough patience: the pain should minimize into a dull ache or even possibly disappear entirely; the sudden rush of power was seemingly going to be both the morphine and crutch of that possibility.
Or better yet have all the benefits of the super-powered form without having the slightest hint of their feline halves. Certainly in theory it was possible with enough wishing, willpower, and training to fight to remain human? Why not? Especially given how much stupid, weird, and freaky sci-fi shit that's been happening already.
The very brunt of the impact that this news reduced the fully-grown men into a fit of joyous tears of happiness; leaving poor Hamleck to slink away awkwardly with Jayne tucked away under his only arm that could grip the egg securely to his chest. The other was far too busy tracking his progress via a jagged line through whatever surface had the displeasure of being underfoot when he didn't have his sheathe on him and walked on two paws.
.