Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ Under Stress ❯ Forgive Me ( Chapter 4 )

Drum roll, please... Chapter 4! I'm taking another Godsmack song way out of context. The song's name is 'Forgive Me' (like you won't figure THAT out...).
And again, I don't own either Godsmack or Digimon. I could, but I don't.

Without further ado... (I'm really quite proud of this chapter...amazing what hunger will do for your writing)

Ken wasn't in his room, asleep. Ken wasn't outside, carousing and crushing. Instead, he stared blearily at the calm blue screen, numb fingers on the transparent keyboard. He could feel the darkness under his eyes growing. One day too much sleep, the next too few. It was hard work avoiding that damned girl.

There's nothing to me now. An empty shell unfolded.

Why did he torment himself? He was king, none equal. He shut his eyes slowly to the 3D framework on the monitor. So close to finishing his work, so close to losing his mind.

How, when we learn to pray inside our demons are laughing
How long will this go on? Are we a bit much stronger?

He hadn't talked to her for... oh, it was only a week, but felt like forever. He missed her like his right arm, missed everything. The small disgusting smirks he let himself enjoy as he watched her. The tension in the air when she was in the same room. The way she quivered when he fixed her in his glare. The way he quivered when they were so close he could feel her body heat, he could smell her. He'd barely been able to watch her on the screens, and the only way he knew she hadn't escaped was the daily updates from the slug and the overbearing fact that she COULDN'T escape. She was somewhere in the maze of hallways. Somewhere - might as well be nowhere at all.
He was such a wuss. Why wouldn't he let his feet move to find her? Why did his brain keep writing over the question - the answered question?

Do you think you can save me from living this way?

He chewed on his lip, motioning his treasured project closed. With a sigh of weakness, he opened up the network of cameras. He needed to see her. See her beautiful form, to see-to KNOW she was there.
The mainframe processors ground through the myriad of possibilities. Hoping to find one, just one worthy result for its master. The machine stopped, popping a window open that contained the human female. From its vantage point high on the wall, the camera gathered the top of her purple head, cocked to one side in wonder. Despite himself, he slouched deeply into his chair, his lips parting with a sigh of relief. She was on his screen again. Where she should be. A smile, slightly amused, sat on his face. What was she looking at? His view was limited by the lens, but he saw her folded arms, the way she gently leaned on her hip against the wall. He put his right elbow on the armrest, smushing his chin lightly with the infamous hand. He knew why he'd taken her. Somewhere in his head, he'd known it all along. But now, every cell screamed the truth. The Kaiser was lifeless goo as he watched her.

A sound, instantly recognizable, poked at him through the air. He didn't move, paralyzed with fear. Behind his smoky lenses, his eyes grew wide. No, he was just hearing things, right? It poured through his ears again louder, shattering any naive hope. Someone was clearing their throat.

Behind him.

The Kaiser cleared his throat as well. Not for attention, no. To clear the terror from his voice, to make it proud and strong. And lightly irritated.
"Yes?" Please let it be Wormmon... On screen, Miyako lifted her head, inspecting the camera critically. All for show, he twisted his head around the back of the chair with a fatal glower. "WHAT DO YOU WANT?!" He stopped, inhaling the tiniest bit. Framed by the lit doorway, Miyako brought her eyes back to gaze forward. He had been watching her watching him watching her.

She stepped hesitantly forward, trying to muster as much confidence as she could find. The figure on the screen exited, leaving a view of the blank and lifeless hallway. Her eyes darted up to the screen briefly, bringing them back to settle on the purple glasses as she moved closer. He sat up straight, too surprised to manage any type of commanding presence.
Now she was at his side, scared to death. What was he going to do to her? 'Did I SAY you could come in here?!!!'
He was looking up at her eyes, scared to death. What was she going to say to him? 'I caught you watching me, pervert!' He opened his mouth.
"Hi." It was so tiny, so feeble. Something an utterly ashamed 'Kenny-boy' would say.
"Hi." She couldn't think properly and she started to panic. You're so stupid coming here. Look what he did to you last time! Miyako stepped backwards with one foot, creating enough space to run if he lunged at her.

His throat caught slightly, choking on fear. Why was she backing away? Did she realize what he... His breath came in shallow, mute gasps.

I don't know how to love. I just know how to live.
All I feel is hate. Will you forgive me?

But he couldn't say it. Couldn't take off his face and say it. Make her terror dissipate, make all the watchful bacteria relent to relief.
"I..." His mouth hung open, begging his lungs to function. "...am sorry."
"For what?" Miyako glanced up at the electrical rendering of the hallway. "You have every right to know where your slaves are."
"NO-" he spat frustratedly, his heart pounding, making him perspire microscopically. "...no..." Ken stood heavily, joints acting aged and stiff instead of spry. Somewhere above him, the accusers in his brain peered carefully, picking apart his every move. "For-" His mind raced back, the blood and sweat a blur, her screams punctuating his nerves. Thankful for his shades, small tears met at the corners of his eyes. He panted, his right hand on the chair to steady himself, left on his forehead, clawing away the memory. "For... forgive me."

He was the ruler of an entire world. Regal, tall, proud. But his voice betrayed him by cracking, his legs by collapsing. He held his lips shut with his teeth, nearly drawing blood until his face grew red and he couldn't breathe. The Kaiser's lips spread open, sobs screaming out between flailing grabs for air.

He was the ruler of an entire world. Yet here he was, kneeling, his face on the ground, in his hands. Crying and broken.

For all those things I've done, they keep on creeping by me.
And though we've changed our ways,
still all our demons are laughing.

Idiot! Half for his past actions and half for his present, Ken cried in the rising chaos of his mind. Get UP off the floor! Stand? But that would mean staring at her expression. No, you don't deserve to stand! Lay here like the filth you are.

He was so embarrassed, subjected before his slave. But he couldn't go on living like this... Pretending he didn't care. Pretending he was still in control. The day rushed through his mind repeatedly, torturing his open wound. It wasn't ever her fault. It had always been his.

His fault for years of brazen independence culminating in one act of pure insanity. A superiority complex that left him weak to criticism, blemishes on his pride and worth. His indifference to all life, human life precisely. And a deep desire for his first taste of uninhibited violence.

How long will this go on? Aren't we a bit much stronger?
I'd like to think you've come into my life to stay.

But now he'd had it. Like a little child, stuck the whole thing in his mouth at once. And instead of spitting the vile thing out, he held it over his tongue, letting it fester into gaping sores.

I don't know how to love. I just know how to live.
All I feel is hate. Will you forgive me?

He hated himself! His mind a blur as he tried, through tears, to focus on the tile. It whipped into a frenzy when he realized she might not be there anymore. He couldn't see her, couldn't dare to lift his sorry head and check... He panicked again and fresh tears streamed down his fingers. What if she left? What if she was so disgusted, or so offended, that she walked away? Alone, crying on the floor, what a perfect vignette of a perfect being.

I don't know how to breathe with you too far away.
Don't know how to love. Will you forgive me?
No I can't live this way!

Something settled on his throbbing head. Something light and ponderously warm. Between the folds of hatred, his mind tried to puzzle out what it could be. Was it a threat to him? No, probably not. Was it something that required his immediate attention? Not likely. The object moved through his hair in long, slow strokes. He liked the way it felt and was somewhat comforted. The sobs slowed as the Kaiser's attention focused on the new question. Whatever it was, it trailed across his ear, down his jaw. It cupped his chin lightly, with small pressure, begging him to tilt it up. He gave in, no longer any self-determination. His brain was flooded with the nagging, suffocating thought that he was so glad to have something else making decisions for him. The object could be his master - he its slave, and he'd be forever happy. His heavy, mildly blissful eyes opened as the object stopped its insistent path. Another object, warm again, and with fingers, slid the protective purple barrier from the bridge of his nose. A new kind of naked, he was caught helplessly in Miyako's eyes.
"Ask me again." She whispered it, her face devoid of emotion.

I don't know how to love. I just know how to live.
All I feel is pain. Will you forgive me?

"Forgive me?" His eyebrows knotted the tiniest bit, expecting an open-handed slap. She bent further down in her crouching position, bringing her lips to the face she'd feared. His eyes closed unbidden, a small but sweet pain catching in his chest. She kissed him. The slave kissed her master and mental curtains were burnt as they deepened their tenuous hold on each other. She wrapped her hands around his head, ordering him to sit up. The cold and cruel Kaiser let a small whimper pass between his teeth as she tilted his head back, running her fingers down his exposed throat. Bliss. Utter bliss. She MUST feel the same way he felt for her. Else she was playing a terrible trick on him and he was falling for it with his heart and his mouth open wide. But he couldn't even think now, and if breathing required any concentration, he would be dying a most pleasurable death. She pulled away to stare at him, his lips red and parted. He tried to catch his breath, his brows inching heavenward in hope and utter lack of control on the situation. Any pretention lay in particles of dust around him, the only sign of his status draped across his back.

I don't know how to breathe with you too far away.
I don't know how to love.

She stood; being tall she towered above him. Just a little boy in a world of shit of his own making. Miyako dropped one hand down to him, a lifeline he dearly wanted to climb. He grasped it with both hands, breathing a grateful kiss across her knuckles. Timidly he stood, solely existing for her command.
"I have an idea." Whatever it was, he didn't care. Didn't think to care or want to care. She turned, dragging him behind her, trading the control room for the empty hallway.

He loosened the grip of his evil right hand, trailing blindly by his left. He turned it over, inspecting. It was so bony, spattered with calluses from various activities. Ken smiled shyly. He'd put everything right. Make it up to her. All the bruises it caused, it would in turn, heal.

Past lives I've lived. Uncontrolled but sacred.
You've finally seen all that's left of me.

Miyako finally stopped in front of a door she'd been through before only to clean and pick up clothes for laundry. She turned the black knob, the rightful occupant following like a kicked puppy.

So hard to feel. So hard to breathe.
Will you forgive me?

Yes. The question, in all regards and forms, resounded with a 'yes'.

EH: Continue? I'll leave to your imagination that task.
Kaiser: Aw, no fair. I want some action!
EH: Um, did you even read the chapter?
EH and Miyako: <sweatdrops />