Cyborg 009 Fan Fiction ❯ Of Moths and Flames ❯ Where There's Smoke . . . ( Chapter 1 )

(*Author's Note: This is my first bit of fan fiction for the Cyborg 009 universe. I just thought that I'd tell you all that most of the dialogue (and action in later chapters) used in this story was lifted directly from the episode Hero as transcribed by me using a copy of the show from Cartoon Network. I'll apologize in advance for the slight shippy-ness right now but the idea just wouldn't leave me alone. This story may be confusing if you haven't seen Hero, but you might find it interesting anyway. Oh, and if you have any suggestions on how I can make this story better, feel free to tell me that too.

One more thing: most of the words in ( ) are Cathy's thoughts. *)

-Of Moths and Flames-

Chapter 1: Where There's Smoke . . .

Cathy Jenkins was not in a good mood when she arrived at the hotel. That was to be expected of course, considering her latest run in with that delinquent that her son had attached himself to. Just seeing that man was enough to get her temper up.

Could hardly call him a 'man,' she thought as she trudged upstairs. To her eyes, Jet Link was nothing more than a boy who obviously thought that the world should revolve around him. She couldn't think of any other reason why he saw nothing wrong with standing idly by while her boy got into fights or with filling her son's head with the worst kind of nonsense. Never mind the fact he was jobless . . .

If only there was a way to keep Jimmy away from him. She'd had this thought many times before and it never ceased to annoy her: 'If only's were for people who were too busy belly aching to deal with reality and too lazy to help themselves. Besides, she thought as she opened the door to the first room she had to clean, it just wasn't possible anyway. She could barely afford to put food on the table as it was- there was no way that she could afford to pay someone to watch over Jimmy. And since she worked during the day and at night, she had no way to stop Jimmy from doing what he wanted.

She supposed, as she scrubbed the bathroom tiles (How does one person make this much of a mess in one day!), that she should be grateful that Jimmy wasn't spending his time with gang members or drug dealers, and she was - but only just. Jet Link was not the sort of person that she wanted for Jimmy's role model. Unfortunately, it seemed that Jimmy had decided to replace one lousy father figure with another lousy father figure.

She just couldn't decide which lousy father figure was worse. On the one hand, she considered as she changed the sheets on the bed (What the heck was this guest doing! Cooking?), Jimmy's real father was a drunken idiot that had abandoned them at the first sign that he was actually going to have to take responsibility for his actions and take care of himself. The only reason that she'd gotten together with that man in the first place was that he was Jimmy's father and she had hoped that he would mature a little. Of course, that didn't happen. With luck, the only thing that Jimmy would inherit from his father were his eyes, but who could believe in luck now-a-days?

And then there was Jet Link. A loser who really didn't seem to care about much of anything at all. Jet obviously thought he could coast through life; Jimmy could not afford to take that lesson to heart. Not if he wanted to survive in the real world. Not if he wanted to be more than just an inner city street tough. She wanted Jimmy to have a chance at the easy life that she never had- whenever she saw the plain hero worship in Jimmy's eyes when the subject of Jet came up, she saw that dream slip a little further away. She only hoped that Jimmy would come to realize that Jet wasn't as cool as he thought and abandon him; but she feared that even if Jimmy ever did see Jet for what he really was, the damage would already be done.

Wiping the stove top with a bit more force than necessary (Do I even want to know what this stuff is?), she decided that the main reason that she had gotten so mad at Jet tonight was that he had the audacity to say that her having to work two jobs was unfair. It wasn't because what he said wasn't true- it wasn't right that she had to work two jobs; it was because she couldn't imagine that he was old enough to know what unfairness really was.

Then again, she thought as she wrung out her wash cloth (I don't think this will ever get clean.), Jet had a look that she recognized quite well. That predatory gleam in his eye, his swagger, and the leanness of his frame- he was a child of the streets. He'd probably had lived the life that she was trying so hard to protect Jimmy from. It was sad to realize, but now that she really thought about it, Jet probably did know what real unfairness was.

Maybe she wasn't being completely fair to Jet, but she couldn't help feeling angry about what he'd said anyway. Cathy had never liked pity no matter where it came from; it really burned her that someone in Jet's situation should think that he was in a position to offer her pity. She was twenty five years old- she didn't need or want to be pitied by a delinquent teenager.

She was just about to start vacuuming (If I didn't know this carpet was supposed to blue . . . ), when she heard screaming. For a few moments, she just stood and listened. She could hear the sound of running feet (These walls really are paper thin!) and shouts. Dropping the vacuum without giving it a second look, she ran out the door.

It was pandemonium. People were scrambling by the door and heading down the stairs. Everyone was talking at once and while she couldn't understand what was being said, she could hear the fear in their voices. (What's going on here?) She was about to grab someone and ask what was happening when she smelled the smoke. As soon as she smelled it, she saw it too; she didn't see flames yet, but they couldn't be too far off. (I've got to get out of here!)

She was about to follow the people heading to the stairs when she heard a scream coming from down the smoke-darkened hallway. It was high pitched and any mother could tell that it had came from a child. Cathy looked around, disappointed, but unsurprised, when no one seemed willing to stop running and go back for the kid.

Not that she was exactly raring to go herself. It filled her with disgust, but she had to admit that she wanted to walk away too. The difference between her and all the jerks running by was that she was going to go anyway. She was a mother- heck, she was a human being- she'd be damned if she was just going to walk away without even trying to help.

She was just about to do that when someone grabbed her arm. Spinning around with an angry retort on her lips and getting ready to shake the hand away, she stopped herself when she saw a familiar face. It was Maria, an older woman that Cathy found annoying but tolerable. Her maid uniform was dark with soot and her eyes were a bit too wide, wild.

"Cathy! What the hell are you doing! We've got to get out of here!" With every word, Maria had squeezed Cathy's arm a little tighter. By the time she was finished, her grip was uncomfortably tight and Cathy worried a little about her circulation (When did she get so strong?).

"Maria. I need you to do something for me." She tried to keep her voice calm and authoritative but she only succeeded with the latter. "I need you to go down there and tell the firefighters that there's still people up here."

'Why can't you . . ." Maria's grip tightened as she seemed to realize what Cathy was meaning to do."You can't mean to- What about your son?"

Cathy didn't have time for this. As quickly as she could, she told Maria to go and pick up Jimmy (giving Maria Jet's apartment number * because she knew that was where he'd be) and make sure he was all right.

Maria didn't look happy and, frankly, Cathy didn't care. (There's no time for this!). Wrenching her arm away, she gave her a devil-may-care smile that she didn't feel. "I'll be fine, Maria- just go."

Maria hesitated a moment longer before turning and heading towards the stairs.

Not giving herself a chance to hesitate any longer, Cathy started down the smoky hallway. She could hear sobbing cries but she couldn't really tell where they were coming from. "Where are you!" When her call received no answer, she walked further into the suddenly labyrinthine halls.

"Is anyone here!" She strained her ears but she could no longer hear the sound that brought her here. She couldn't hear anything except creaking wood and roaring flames. Smoke blurred her eyes, caught in her throat and she realized that the fire had gotten worse during the short time she'd been looking.

As she searched for a handkerchief to put over her face (Just like in the movies), she made the tough decision to go back. She had no way of finding the child now that she couldn't hear it and- for all she knew- the child wasn't even here anymore. She refused to entertain the idea that the child had died while she'd been looking for it. Besides that, she had a child of her own to take care of. She owed it to Jimmy to get out of here alive and if she wanted to do that, she had to leave now.

Putting the handkerchief over her nose and mouth, she turned back the way she'd come. Or, at least, the way she thought she'd come. It became clear to her in short order that she'd managed to lose herself pretty well during her search. She had no idea where she was and she couldn't understand how she could've gotten so lost. (How long have I worked at this hotel?) It was mind boggling.

Her mind didn't have too long to boggle as the hotel chose that moment to start spinning wildly. She fell to her knees and folded in on herself as she was overwhelmed by a coughing fit. By the time she'd caught her breath, her throat felt raw and her eyes were tearing. (This isn't good) Using the wall, she pushed herself to her feet. She wasn't upright for more than five seconds before the hotel spun again, but it wasn't the hotel's spinning that made her fall this time.

A burning beam from the floor above slammed down in front of her with enough force to knock her off her feet. She scrambled away from the flames and turned her back to it, shielding herself from the heat. Pressing the handkerchief to her face, she concentrated on breathing. She felt too light headed at the moment to try anything harder. (This can't be happening.)

But it was and now that she had realized the serousness of the situation, she felt the crushing weight of despair as Maria's words came back to her. "What about your son." What would happen to Jimmy if she died here? She had no idea where his bastard father was and his only other relative was a grandfather who was in an institution because he couldn't remember his name. He'd go to an orphanage- Jimmy would be an orphan!

And all for nothing.

The thought made her so angry that she could've cried if the smoke hadn't made her tear up already. It wasn't fair. But then, she knew all about unfairness. She had learned her first lesson about the unfairness of life as a child when her mother drank herself to death. And ever since then, it seemed as though fate thought that she needed to keep relearning it. When her first boyfriend took advantage of her, when the father of her child left, when her own father lost his mind, when she had to work two jobs so she and her son could eat -

There had been many little lessons, but nothing had prepared her for this. If only she hadn't decided to play hero. If only she'd just run when she had a chance. If only -

(Stop it!) Now she felt thoroughly disgusted with herself. 'If only's never helped anyone do anything. It was weak to start down the 'if only' path and if there was one thing that Cathy prided herself on, it was her strength. She refused to just sit here and let herself die without even trying to save herself.

She almost thought that she could hear something over the roaring flames, but she ignored it. She couldn't afford any more distractions- time was running out and she knew it. She got the feeling that if she didn't leave soon, she wouldn't. That was not even an option. She was just about to try standing again- knowing inside (even if she refused to admit it to herself) that if she got to her feet, she probably wouldn't stay there-, when she heard the last thing that she expected to hear.

"Cathy? It's Jet. Are you all right?"