Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ Peregrine ❯ Veracity ( Chapter 4 )

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ve·rac·i· ty n.
1. Adherence to the truth; truthfulness.
2. Conformity to fact or truth; accuracy or precision: a report of doubtful veracity.
3. Something that is true.

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"Staying inside has got me doubting my mind
And doing battle with phantoms again.
In the form of some notes, I think a musical ghost
Is digging dead melodies from my head.

I should be out in the sun, I should be having some fun.
I should be drinking some beer, I should be reading somewhere.
I should be seeing my wife instead of wasting my nights
And from all that I hear I should be getting my hair cut."

Pain.

The whole world was a pure symphony of explosive undulating pain, centered at a pulsating convex location at the back of his head. He was only mildly aware that his hands were tied behind his back with coarse rope. The stiffness of his shoulders was the equivalent of a needle piercing his skin in comparison with the jackhammering of his skull. Strands of gold were mildly matted with the rusty brown of dried vital fluid, and even the low groan that escaped from deep within his throat resonated with sufferance not unlike a knife twisting into his aching brain.

"Ow."

Wallace pulled himself up with cautious velocity, still unwilling to present his eyes to the fluorescence that turned his vision crimson as faint light penetrated the shield of flesh covering his eyes. The moments it took for him to make it to a kneeling position were eternal to his pain-infused perception, and the traveler wondered if it was the world that moved around him instead. He considered with what small amount of his thought process that was not focused on the agony in his head that he might have possibly had a concussion.

"No, Wallace-san, don't move too much." A gentle hand slid towards the back of his head, carefully avoiding the place the pipe had connected with the now-tender flesh. Another hand held a cup of water towards parched lips, the liquid sliding down the grateful throat to combat the bile movement caused to rise. "I'm sorry that it was necessary for me to incapacitate you, though you don't believe me now, I'm sure."

The blonde choked on the next offered item, a dry slice of lightly toasted bread. The voice insisted that he eat, so he reluctantly swallowed the food, despite the protest from his stomach. More of that precious cool water followed, and Wallace drank eagerly, until he found his mouth forced open, a pill forced into his mouth that he could not help but swallow.

"It's just Vicodin. It won't kill you." His hands were next unbound, only to be retied in front of him. The world turned on its end him once more as his caretaker laid him back on the cot, a pillow lodged under his aching head. "Rest now, and you'll have your explanation when you wake up."

Wallace had no choice but to comply, as the darkness claimed him once again.

When he woke the second time, his hands were still bound before him, but the hooks of agony implanted in his skull that threatened to tear his head appart had been removed in favor of a dull throbbing ache. The nausea had almost completely vanished, much to his relief. The weary traveler found himself able to sit up, moving clumsily thanks to the grogginess of his pain and the drug his captor forced down his throat.

Wallace found his ears assaulted by the plastic clicking which he recognized as a keyboard. Eyes were opened with slow deliberation, focusing on the figure, the pulsating pain in his head bringing light and color into a sharp and definite focus.

"Iori....." He gasped the name, and would have lifted a hand to his forehead to shield his eyes from the harsh florescent bulb had it not been cruelly tied to its twin. "What the hell....is going on?"

The Hida boy did not immediately respond, instead opting to type a command into the laptop that Wallace immediately recognized as being his own. The item was powered down and returned to the older teen's leather backpack. Metal conflicted with concrete, screeching as the folding chair was drawn across the ground so that Iori could sit across from Wallace.

"You will not believe me, I'm sure, but I did this for your own good." Iori began, a trace of sorrow evident in the brown eyes drilling into Wallace's. "You apparently were Chosen to protect the Digital World from this most recent threat. I suppose that task was to have fallen into the hands of our team." He produced his D3. "This was supposed to inform us. None of the others know about the Digital Keys, or that you were pulled into this."

"That still doesn't explain why you hit me over the head with a damned pipe, Iori!" The blonde frowned, a snarl nearly forming on those smooth features.

"We are being monitored visually, so I can't remove your bindings. These cameras have no sound, however, so we are free to talk." Iori continued, unmoved by the older boy's outburst. "I've infiltrated their organization. Many other Chosen Children were taken, usually around the time they suffered a traumatic event. Yuri's parents were murdered during a robbery. I noticed that you had Rosa's name pulled up on the computer outside. Her home was destroyed with her in it. Another, Catherine in France, she was kidnapped. I won't go into detail, but it was relatively traumatic for her." He paused, a flash of disgust on his face at the thought.

"And someone was there, to 'help' them pick up the pieces of their lives and give them purpose, correct?" The captive leaned back against the wall, careful to prevent his head from contacting with the unyielding cinder blocks.

"For each taken, yes. The Commander started about two years ago. How long he's been planning the theft of the Digital Keys is anyone's guess."

"What about you, Iori? Why are you with him?"

Silence passed between the boys before Iori spoke again. "He killed my grandfather six months ago. I received an email warning me just before The Commander approached me. It was an opportunity that I could not pass up." The faintest sigh passed through dried lips, chocolate pools finally shifting away from the cornflower of Wallace's gaze. "This is my duty, as a Chosen Child."

"Duty. Heh." Wallace found himself buying the story, silencing the doubts he might have had regarding his friend. "I'm sorry, but the price of duty sucks ass, Iori-kun."

"Quite." The subject shifted at Iori's suggestion. "We will need to remove Yuri as an obstacle. He's misguided, but still dangerous, and fanatical in his dedication to The Commander."

"Who in hell is this 'Commander' person?" The word "commander" nearly spat out with the sense of distress that rose within the Ford. He knew already. The features of Rosa's guardian had been committed to memory in the airport in Las Vegas.

"I have a theory that he's working for someone else, but really, he's the only true figurehead I've seen personally. Every order comes from him." Hida frowned, the gesture turning his countenance severe. "What's worse, he looks like Ge-"

A loud noise interrupted the word before Iori could finish it, the smaller youth whipping his head around towards the door. "Quickly, Wallace-san." Wallace noted upon the other boy's rising that there was a slender device strapped to Iori's hand, hair-thin metal fibers spread across that small hand. Hida was careful to avoid letting the camera see it as he slid a lightweight jacket onto his frame. "Follow my lead, please."

Ford followed Hida numbly, biting back the gore that wanted to do nothing more than travel the distance of his esophagus to his mouth. He swallowed this back, wincing at the foul acidic flavor coating his tongue. The meatball sandwich from earlier was proving to be an unruly resident of his stomach.

The two continued past the door frame and into a narrow passage, dimly lit with bulbs, illumination muted by layers of dust on the plastic shrouds shielding the sources. The older figure eyed the back of the younger Chosen's head, still suspicious of those unclear intentions, and still slightly unsteady from the dull pain in his head. Even so, he kept quiet and remained secretly grateful that Iori thought to bring the leather backpack with him. After a moment of walking, the pair turned down another branch of the hallway, into the room Wallace in which had been attacked.

Yuri sat at the main console, the one Wallace had been at hours before, apparently running a search. He glanced around sharply towards Iori, a hand risen to indicate that the captive should be brought forward. He only spared a single smug glance for the other blonde, returning to his typing.

"How the mighty have fallen. We have our little golden prince here, and soon, we will have our other target. The Commander will be most pleased." Ready fingers slid across the keyboard with only the small clicks to indicate keys were being pressed. The series of names on the primary screen shifted form, a replica of Iori's native country forming in colors of green on black. Another command had the display zoom in on Tokyo, bringing the map of districts and prefectures to the fore. Different kanji appeared over the district of Odaiba, a pair in Hachijouji, and another in the Tamachi area.

"Can you read those, tovarich?" Yuri peered at Wallace for any sign of recognition. Of course he could read the names of his friends displayed before him, but this was not allowed to betray him as he kept his expression carefully neutral. "I don't suppose you can, American. It doesn't matter. You don't know him."

Where have I heard that before? Daisuke's words echoed through Wallace's confused mind unbidden, and he had a fear that meatball sub sandwich wasn't done flip-flopping in his stomach. "What do you have planned?"

"You don't need to know that information. The Commander will be here within the hour to retrieve you. After he's done with you, you'll beg him to accept the Digital Keys!" Laughter echoed off of the plastic and metal that lined the room's walls, suddenly cut off with a gurgle from his throat.

Yuri stood, choking as his hand flew to his neck, pulling it away to reveal bare traces of blood. He fell, head crashing into the console. Behind him, Iori stood with a needle, pale fluid dripping. "It's a tranquilizer, Wallace-san. Don't look at me as though I've just killed him."

The smaller boy dropped the needle, moving to unbind Wallace's hands. His next course of action was to open the Digital Gate, entering the desired location. The darkness was chased back with near-blinding light as the Gate opened, and swallowed Yuri moments after Iori held him up. "I sent him somewhere remote. It's your turn now, Wallace-san. You have to get to Japan. By now, they've already taken him." Iori slid an optical disc into Wallace's backpack before returning the item to him. "This will deposit you near Primary Village. Another portal should be easy enough to find. Just look for a TV."

"What about you, Iori-kun?" The face that turned towards the smaller teen was skeptical, concern evident in those sky-hued eyes. "Come with me."

The Hida shook his head sadly. "No, Wallace. I have to make sure The Commander doesn't find you. I'm blowing this place up, so I need to detonate it from here." Before Wallace could protest, Iori had the gate open. "Go to Japan! Find Ichi...." The words were cut off as the traveler found himself on the other side of an oddly shaped monitor, face first in grass.

"You sure do know how to make an entrance, hot stuff."

I know that voice.... Blue eyes turned slowly, greeted by bare legs. I know those legs too. He rolled over, looking directly up at a smirking face he did not expect to see so soon. "Sariel, hiya."

"I don't hear from you for a week, and all you can say is 'hiya'? Hmph." She extended a hand to assist her friend in rising. "You're forgiven because you're cute."

"How did you know where to find me?" He brushed the digital dirt from his clothes, sparing a worried glance for the inactive monitor. Iori. Good luck!

"Mysterious email from an address that shouldn't exist." The corners of her mouth turned upwards in a sheepish grin, and she took Wallace's hand. "Let's go get Renamon and your Partner Digimon. They're outside of Primary Village. We're not that far away."

Rubescent coloring graced his cheeks, which he tried to subdue by focusing on the iridescent butterflies surrounding and following the pair as one lead the other towards the intended destination. Wallace found himself suitably distracted, watching as the swarm seemed to travel with an uncanny deliberation of movement, as though following a uniform purpose. Weird.

Sariel pulled Wallace along, traveling over the verdant hills that spread out before them. The young man took a moment to notice the slightly older girl. Her face carried a look of resolve that had not been there when he last saw her, as though there were some renewed oath to keep. He found his heart catch when sunlight poured through the golden strands that trailed behind her as she ran ahead of him. The vision was breathtaking, though there was momentary regret that the contact of her hand in his was broken with the distance.

Keep your thoughts on the task at hand. You'll have time to use your mad pimpin' skillz when the Digital Keys are found. Wallace repeated the thought to himself like a mantra, surpised at how quickly the journey was over when he was tackled by two rather excited Digimon, Terriermon and Lopmon.

"WARRASU!" The two practically squealled, followed by the melodious laughter of Sariel, and the other familiar chuckle of Renamon. "It's about time you arrived!" Lopmon poked his human friend once in the nose with a paw, just for good measure.

"Lopmon, Terriermon! Get off already! I can't feel my legs below the knee!" Wallace laughed, accepting Sariel's help to stand upright again once his two furry friends moved from his lower appendages.

"We found a gate, Warrasu! We found one that will take you to Sacramento. I'm sorry, but we couldn't find another one in San Francisco that wouldn't draw attention." Terriermon frowned, the olive and ivory of his fur turning rose-hued, painted by the setting sun.

"It's not too far from here, but it's getting late, so you should camp here with us, Warrasu." Lopmon offered a big smile. floppy ears catching a bit of mild breeze.

The two Partner Digimon scrambled ahead when Wallace took Sariel's smaller hand in his, a touch of a smirk resting at the corners of his mouth as he felt sure he detected a brilliant blush threatening to overpower the fuchsia of the sinking sun. This is a bad time to get like this, but I really don't think I care.

They found an open area near a few stray trees near the monitor that served as a portal back to the Real World, and set up camp, complete with a blazing fire with plant roots roasting there. Sariel explained that they were a bit like yucca root, which tasted somewhat like a potato, only sweeter. Wallace agreed, comparing the texture more to that of a yam. It was a simple dinner, but not one to be complained about.

"Hey, Sari?" The traveler looked down where Seraphine leaned against him, her back against his chest as his legs ran along the outside of hers. Renamon stood guard on the other side of the dying fire, trying her hardest not to be amused by the frolicking twin Digimon and failing miserably.

"Yeah, Wallace?" She leaned her head back, sapphire meeting his sky blue.

"Come to Japan with me."

Disbelief and confusion touched her features, shadows cast by the camp fire deepening the set of her eyes. "Are you serious?"

"Never been more serious. You have a passport, don't you?"

"Well, yeah. I've been there with my father not too long ago."

"You're legal and aren't working. Come with me."

The young man smiled gently at Sariel, reaching down to brush stray golden strands from over her eyes. "Wallace....I don't know."

She looked down again, upper incisors worrying her lower lip.

"Think about it tonight, and let me know tomorrow." Warm arms wrapped around the female, offering a hug before warm breath and a soft weight touched the top of her head as Wallace nuzzled there, soon falling asleep.

It was at least another hour before sleep came for Sariel.

Morning found the girl held in furrier arms, as Renamon sheltered her Partner from the ground as she had plenty of times in the past. She pulled herself away from her partner, who murmured in protest before snapping awake, instantly alert.

"Chill, Rena. It's just the morning. It won't bite you." Sari grinned, reaching for her own backpack to take her brush and mirror and make use of them for her morning grooming. "Where's Wallace?"

Renamon smirked at the comments. "Your prince is at the portal, waiting for your slow ass." The Digimon stood, helping Sariel when she was done with her morning primping. "You look fine. Let's go, already."

Wallace was soon located, sitting next to the monitor, his partners romping off in the background, loudly laughing. He watched them, a trace of sadness evident. I'm going to miss them. Hopefully they'll be able to wander freely with me once I'm in Japan.

"Ahem." Sariel cleared her throat, pulling the wanderer's attention towards her, face lighting in a smile. "Ah, there you are. Ready to go?"

The girl nodded, and turned to hug her partner. "Renamon, I'll get you once we're in Tokyo. Watch for me, and take care of yourself."

"Worry about yourself, blondie." The taller Digimon hugged her partner close, and gently pushed her away, standing off to the side. She failed in her attempt to appear stern, warmth in her eyes for the human who had been her friend for so many years.

The male blonde was busy with heartfelt goodbyes of his own, burying his face in the warmth created by Terriermon and Lopmon. "We'll be here waiting for you, Warrasu." Terriermon sniffled.

"Yeah, and then when you're in Tokyo, we can walk around with you there!" Lopmon smiled bravely at his Partner.

"And you get to see all my friends there. Terriermon, don't cry! You get to hang out with Veemon again!" The human stood away from the Digimon twins, reaching for Sariel's hand.

"Wallace, about my answer, I...." She began. A swarm of iridescent butterflies flew overhead, casting oddly shining shadows over the girl.

"Later for that, Sari." He smiled and shook his head, and with an extension of his arm, fingers clenched around his D-3, the pair were soon pulled through that junction of data that connected the Digital World to the Real World, landing with a thud on worn office carpet.

"Damned teenagers! Get out of here! No making out in the back of a RADIO SHACK!!" A rather wrinkled old woman peered down on them, sneering angrily at them. "Out! Now!"

The pair apologized and made their way outside. Luckily, Wallace recognized the area as being near the mall he passed on his way from the Greyhound station to the AmTrak station. He did not let go of her hand during the duration of the walk to the AmTrak station, turning on the lettered streets with determined velocity.

"When we get to the station, I'll need you to cut my hair before I leave." The teen spoke in hushed tones, where only his companion could hear. "I don't think you should come with me after all. I will be too dangerous for you, and I'd rather you stay with Renamon so she can protect you when I can't."

"Bite me, Ford. I can take care of myself." Sariel freed her hand forcefully, and marched into the terminal. "I'm going with you, and it's too late to retract your invitation. Now get into that terminal and buy us our goddamned ticket before I kick your ass." She stood by the ticket counter, arms folded across her chest.

No way I'm arguing with that. Wallace smirked. "Fine, angel, but you are going to have to keep up with me." He approached the counter. "Two for Los Angeles." He peered past blonde bangs towards the female, unable to hide a smirk at her indignant expression. He accepted the newly printed tickets, handing one to Sari and pocketing the other.

"So, do we have a long wait?" The anger in her expression faded slightly, enough that she allowed Wallace to take her hand again.

"A couple hours. I figured we could go to the IHOP a block down and get some pancakes or something for breakfast. I know I'm hungry, and I'm sure you could use a bite to eat as well." The smirk expanded to a grin at Sariel's enthusiastic nod.

"I freakin' LOVE pancakes. We're going NOW." This time it was Sari who lead the way, pulling Wallace the length of the block and into the International House of Pancakes nearby.

As the duo were seated, another diminutive figure sneaked in, heart-shaped face framed by pale curls tucked under a bucket hat. She glanced up from her newspaper from time to time, towards the two who were engaged in animated conversation over pancakes and eggs. The other patrons did not seem to notice that she had not turned the page of her paper during the time she had picked it up.

"Commander, they are paying for the bill now. I will be at the station waiting." Crimson lips spoke into a near-microscopic microphone concealed in her compact as she pretended to check her makeup.

"Excellent, Catherine. Go now, and make sure Ford does not enter the bus. Kill the girl with him, if you have to." The reply was dry and humorless. The Commander was serious.

"Oui."

Catherine left her table, leaving a bill that was more than enough to pay for the food as well as leave an excessively generous tip, and nudged past Wallace and Sari as they were exiting the place.

"Pardonnez-moi." Catherine slid between the pair, and hurried on ahead of them.

"That was French." Sariel commented, walking at a leisurly pace next to Wallace, fingers twined with his. "She was watching us the entire time, you know."

"You're pretty sharp." The traveler pulled Sariel into another business. "Excuse me," he inquired of the clerk, "but may we use your bathroom to cut something stuck in my hair?"

The teenaged clerk stared blankly at the Ford from behind horn-rimmed black glasses, spiked hair refusing to move out of place as he nodded. "Bathroom is in the back. Don't spend all day there, and no screwing around. I don't wanna clean the mess." A key attached to a malformed coat hanger was placed in Wallace's hand, and the embarrassed pair snuck to the back of the establishment.

Once the door was closed firmly behind them, Wallace handed Sariel a pair of scissors from his worn travel bag. "Cut my hair. Make it different enough that I can't be recognized."

"But Wallace....your hair. I thought you loved it." Her tone was mournful, scissors held with uncertainty and reluctance.

"What choice is there? Come on, Sari. Just do it." He sighed, and took the scissors, cutting a front bit of his hair. The florescent lighting illuminated the strands in a violet-white hue, contrasting with the filthy lime-colored tile floor.

The young woman's breath was released in a sigh. "Fine, but I want you to cut mine afterwards. If you need to disguise yourself, so do I, since they likely know what I look like." She began tearfully cutting the length of gold from the Ford's head, wondering what thoughts crossed his mind as those eyes closed. The style was formed carefully, making sure ends were even.

Her efforts resulted in a center part, bangs curled back at the length of his ear lobes, the rest angled back into long layers that curled just short of his shoulders at the back of his neck. Using a bit of colored styling glue Wallace handed her, she disguised his blonde tresses to appear as though his natural hair color was an inky jet black.

Wallace took the scissors from Sari next, and with one snip, severed the braid from its foundation. The shortened remainder was shaped into a shaggy cropped cut, with shorter bangs fringing her forehead above the eyebrows, and two single long layers along the sides of her face, the remainder cut almost boyishly short. He produced a mirror, holding onto Sariel when she threatened to weep for the loss of her mane.

"It'll grow, and you did a good job," she sniffled, "but....it's so much hair, and now it's gone!" Sariel turned to wash her face, and touched up her makeup, making it a touch more dramatic, and changed clothes after insisting Wallace turn around. He changed as well when Sari had finished, and the Chosen looked more like a pair of club-goers that ventured out into the sunlight at the wrong hour of the day.

"You were in there a long time." The clerk looked at them. "My bad. I guess those two squares gave you the keys. Fuck 'em." He returned to his Penthouse magazine, rotating the page to peer at the centerfold. "Hurry up and buy something before I kick your asses out."

Not wanting to anger the disgruntled attendant any more than he already was, Wallace purchased a pack of Twinkies.

"These things'll kill you. Your funeral." The clerk scanned the packaged confection. "That'll be sixty cents. Fork it over." He deposited the change once Wallace paid, and returned to his softcore.

"What a jerk!" Sariel grumbled as the two returned to the terminal. "I guess that's what happens when you do nothing but look at porn all day."

"That's the sign of a guy who hates life and isn't getting laid." Wallace smirked. He directed Sariel to the counter with him. "I need to change my bus for one to one to San Diego."

"You're in luck. There's one leaving in ten minutes." The station attendant smiled, revealing yellowed smoke-stained teeth. "No charge to change, either." The woman handed the tickets over, winking to Wallace. "Luck to you and your lady there."

Wallace would have laughed at Sariel's sudden scarlet coloration, had a most interesting sight greeted him. It was the blonde French girl from the IHOP, casually glancing up from a paper. "They don't train these people well, do they?"

Both Chosen walked past the girl, not even drawing a glance from her. They paused on the opposite side of the tile and concrete pillar she leaned against, listening as the spy drew her compact.

"Non, Commander. I have not see them." She frowned, glossed lips forming a definite pout.

"They could be disguised. Keep alert." The elder man instructed.

"Mais oui!" Of course! was her reply, and she returned to her attentive surveillance.

"Looks like they scraped the bottom of the barrel for recruits." Sariel muttered, heading towards the direction of the San Diego bus. She set her foot on the step. "Wallace?"

Wallace had paused, but only when a knife was held at his throat, the blade touched with a touch of blood. "Sariel...."

"I am not the ditz you think I am." The French-accented thread sounded odd from the delicate young woman. "You get on the bus, and he dies! His blood will stain the path on our glorious cause!"

Sariel froze, staring in disbelief. "You can't kill him. Your commander needs the Digital Keys!" The terminal was nearly empty, the driver in the back using the restroom on the bus, so no one came to the Chosens' aid. "Help us! Don't you care about the Digital World too? Aren't you Chosen?"

"Hah! I am Chosen for a greater purpose than protecting a world that was created to serve us!" Catherine's hand faltered all the same. "This is the best way to protect it!" Haughty cackling filled Wallace's ears, but in that moment, the girl's guard dropped, and the traveler made his move, hooking his ankle around hers to send the inexperienced teenager to the ground, knife cast away. He tore at her sleeve, revealing a thickness of black metal wrapped around.

Catherine was on her feet instantly, tackling Wallace to the ground, a stiletto springing from a concealed sheath on her arm. Sariel panicked, unsure of how to help her struggling friend, and grabbed the first thing she could find.

The French teenager soon found the sweet fluffy white filling of a Twinkie in her eyes, dropping the stiletto to rub it out. She never saw Wallace's fist coming as it connected with her perfect nose, filling the girl's vision with sparks instead of vanilla cream.

"Quickly, on the bus!" Wallace shoved the spy off of him, sending her sliding across the concrete. Sari was only too happy to comply, tugging him towards the back of the bus, ignoring the complaint of the driver as he took the tickets, having just returned to his seat.

The pair slid down onto the foam padded seats, moving the flase oak arm rest upwards so that it no longer seperated them. "Did you notice that weird black armband she wore?" Sariel glanced at Wallace. "It looked electric."

"I need to let Daisuke and the others know what's up." Wallace reached for his laptop, connecting his cellular phone to the modem adaptor for his broadband connection. With the lifting of the monitor lid, the laptop came to life in vivid colors, and Wallace loaded the messaging program.

"Daisuke-kun, this is me. There's something horrible going down, and my friend and
I are on our way to Tokyo to come see you guys. We need your help. There's some weirdo
taking Chosen and making them work for him. We were just attacked here in Sacramento. I will
email you again when we arrive in Tokyo tomorrow.

"Be careful,
Wallace"

With a click on the mouse touchpad using his index finger, the message was sent. Wallace turned to comment about Daisuke to Sariel, when his mail notification went off only moments after he emailed his Japanese comrade.

"That was fast." He commented, pulling the file. "Daisuke-kun must be at his computer now."

Wallace-kun, been waiting. Captain Butterfly said you were coming. Please hurry, and bring
the Digital Keys quickly. I don't know what they want, but....

"....they have Ken-chan."

End Chapter Four.