Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ For They Shall Be Filled ❯ The Merits of Paranoia ( Chapter 11 )

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For They Shall Be Filled

The future is only a reaction to the past.

By: Vain 5/31/2001-1/26/2002

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I do not own Digimon, Ichijouji Ken, the Digidestined, or the Digital World, nor am I making any money off of this. Kazunori, Sanghee, the Golden Triangle, the Revelationas Arch, all its OC's and original concepts all belong to me.

Please DO NOT use or "borrow" them without my written permission.

Special Thanks goes to Herongale and the Guardian for betaing and thank you's are extended to everyone who reviewed on FF.net, especially Athena, ShinniJekka, KA, Pan-chan, Crew of the Clow, Mink, and Soulfull Ishida.

Because of the FF.net situation, this story will be posted here gradually. The entire fic and its sequel can be found here: http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=91738

Thank you and please read and review.

~ Vain

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~Judge not, that you be not judged.

-Matthew 7: 1

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Chapter Eleven

The Merits of Paranoia

Ken didn't see Wormmon as he vanished; his eyes were locked on the injured Demidevimon in his arms. "I'm so sorry," he breathed. "It's just hard for me to remember sometimes. It's hard to separate who I was from who I am. Or at least, whom everyone says I'm supposed to be. I guess I really haven't changed. I still can't think of other's feelings . . ."

The digimon in his arms awoke. "You?" Round blue eyes blinked in surprise. "You stayed?"

"Yeah, I stayed."

"Oh . . . Where's your little friend?"

The boy's brows contracted swiftly and then his expression smoothed over. "I sent him to get herbs for you. They'll help with the pain."

The creature closed his eyes as he absorbed this information and then sighed. "Thank you. There aren't too many digimon who are willing to help out an undead. You're really kind."

No, I'm not. I'm nothing if the sort, Ken thought bitterly. Aloud, he said nothing.

The human sat down on the grass Indian-style and gently placed the digimon bundle down in front of him. Demidevimon still had his eyes closed and he looked almost asleep. Ken watched him closely and noticed that his breathing was neither even nor deep, though. Still, the undead rookie wasn't feeling talkative and neither was the ex-Emperor, so the two merely sat in companionable silence and waited for Wormmon.

How did I get here? thought the pale boy. His eyes wandered away from Demidevimon and he tilted his head back to stare at a blue digital sky. It seems like just a few days ago I was erecting control spires and fine tuning dark spirals and now . . . Now what? He closed his eyes. Now I'm alone. I don't really want to be, but I can't help it. The only Digidestinedwho does not want to carve out my heart with a rusty spoon is Motomiya, and I'm not sure what to think of him. And Yagami? Just what exactly DOES the Child of the Light want with me? A scowl spasmed over his face. I always know exactly what I want to say when I approach them, but something always happens. It's almost as though something's trying to keep me from them . . . Ken bit his lip in frustration. I hate being this . . . helpless! When did I lose control of this situation? When did I lose everything . . .? He could taste blood in his mouth and he clenched his hands into fists and slowly ceased to bite his lip. Dull pain slid through him, relaxing his body. I really am a fool, he thought darkly. But what is that really? It only means I'm just like everyone else, in my own way. Stupid, inconsequential, and . . . ordinary . . . Does that make me Digidestined? Being as useless as everybody else? . . . Hmph. Given the choice, I think I'd rather be the Emperor.

Ken's eyes snapped open and his pupils dilated in fear as he realized what he had just been thinking. God, no! That's what's brought me here in the first place! Damnit, why does this have to be so hard?! When I'm not falling apart, I'm sliding back into the Emperor's habits. It's either one extreme or the other with me. What is wrong with--

"So what's your--ouch--Crest?"

"What?" Ken jerked and looked at the forgotten digimon as he struggled to disentangle himself from the boy's shirt.

"I said 'what's your Crest?' Argh! A little help here?"

"You shouldn't be doing that," Ken stated coolly as he watched the struggling rookie with mild interest. He made no moves to aid him. "Your wounds are all superficial, but you could tear them open or--"

"Don't worry about me," advised Demidevimon as he shook himself free of the shirt. "We undead heal real fast."

"So I see." The boy genius eyed the creature expressionlessly as he hopped about and flapped his wings. "So then what was all that 'leave me here to die' crap about?"

Demidevimon stopped and turned slightly, eyes widening. "I . . . er . . . um . . . I--"

There was a reason people called Ken Ichijouji "the Rocket." He was fast. He was very, very fast. And suddenly Demidevimon found out that that soccer-honed speed did not get left on the field after the game. The little undead found himself hanging upside down, both feet held in one hand of a very, very pissed off looking former Digimon Emperor. The once-tyrant was on his feet with his free hand on his hip and shaking the digimon like a rag doll.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"I'm j-just- D-D-Demidevimon!"

"Oh, really?" Ken gave the digimon another viscous shake. "Then what do you have to do with the white-haired woman?"

"N-nothing!"

Another shake. "Liar."

"I s-swear it!"

"Why did you want to know about my Crest?"

"I was just tryin' to distract you. You looked so sad that I--"

Shake. "Why do you care?"

"Cause I know what it's like to be hated because of your past!"

"What?" Ken squinted and brought Demidevimon closer to his face to stare into the upside-down creature's eyes. They were filled with tears and a brilliant shade of blue . . . almost the same color as Wormmon's. Unbidden he remembered seeing that exact same expression, terrified resignation, in his partner digimon's eyes countless times during his reign as Emperor. It had usually been when he abused the cowering creature. Every time the whip fell . . . those eyes. They haunted him.

Sickened, he released Demidevimon and the undead fell to the grass with a dull thud. Ken dropped to the ground in a crouch and put his hands over his eyes. "My God, what's happening to me?" What have I done? What have I allowed myself to become?

Demidevimon backed away slowly, eyes wide. "They're right. You haven't changed at all . . . You can't change."

"What?" Ken's head snapped up and his eyes burned into the digimon who was still trying to escape. "What do you mean I . . ." he drifted off, too frightened to finish the sentence.

"You can't change," repeated the rookie. "You can't help yourself . . . You are the Digimon Emperor and the Emperor is you . . . You're tainted. You could never unlock the full power of your Crest. It would never submit to you."

Ken stood and took a step towards Demidevimon, desperately needing to undo some of the damage he had done, but the digimon flinched at his gestured and cowered on the ground, too terrified to move.

"Please . . ." he begged. "Please don't hurt me again."

" . . . Go."

"Huh?" Two eyes peered out from beneath black wings. Ken had turned his back and wrapped his arms around his waist, hunched over as though in pain.

"I said go!" The Child of Kindness' voice was a strangled scream. He could feel those eyes boring into his back. Those crying blue eyes . . .

Then there was a flap of wings and the movement of air through his hair as Demidevimon flew away. Ken dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms about himself still more tightly. I destroy everything I touch . . . everyone I love . . . gone.

He bent down, dropping his head to the ground until his hair brushed the dirt. This is where I belong. In the dirt.

In the distance he heard a rustle in the underbrush. Wormmon.

Hastily, the boy stood and brushed himself off. He smoothed his face into the mask he wore so often, and carefully arranged himself. His partner could not know what had happened here.

Wormmon cleared the brush easily, dragging a small branch out with him. "It's too late in the year for snowgrass, but I found some potay leaves that should--" He cut off as he stared at Ken. The boy's face was slightly flushed and his shoulders were tensed. There was a slight twitch in his lower lip and his breath came too quickly. Something is wrong here.

"What happened?" demanded the little virus as he dropped the suddenly unimportant branch. "Demidevimon did something to you, didn't he? Where is he?" The round head swiveled rapidly as Wormmon scanned the area. "Where did that flying rat go?"

Ken smiled and wanted to burst into tears at Wormmon's display of protection. The human sat down in the grass. "No, I . . . It's nothing. He's gone now. Come here." Pale, short-sleeved arms extended and a somewhat confused Wormmon clambered into Ken's lap.

"Ken, what happened? Are you alright?"

No. "I'm fine, my friend."

The digimon frowned. Why are you hiding things from me, Ken? He remain silent however, unsure of what he should do.

They sat together like that, Ken hugging Wormmon tightly to his chest, for several minutes until the boy broke the silence with an ancient, tired sounding voice, inappropriate for his age. "Wormmon?"

"Yes, Ken?"

"Y-you'll love me no matter what, right?"

"Right."

"Forever?"

"Forever."

"And you won't ever leave me, right? Not like--" he broke off, unable to finish the sentence.

Wormmon knew, though; he understood. "I will always come back to you, Ken. I promise."

The boy hugged his digimon.

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"And why, you fool, did you not obtain the Crest?"

Demidevimon resisted the urge to cringe and fluttered anxiously around the white-haired woman. "I tried!" the creature protested with a vehement shake of his feathered body.

"And you failed!" she snapped anxiously. "The Master will not tolerate failure!"

"Don't worry about it, Arukenimon. I've done the next best thing." Demideveemon was smirking.

"And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"Easy," replied the reformatted digimon, "We may not have the Crest, but I've made sure that he can't use it. He's afraid to submit to the power of the Crest, and if he tries to make it submit to him, it will only become corrupted. He'll never pass the Guardians' test!"

"And if he does?"

"He won't. I'm sure of it."

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