Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Eternal Series ❯ Eternally Different ( Chapter 7 )

Warnings: Minor pedophilia (nothing upsetting) {Believe it or not this is actually necessary to the greater plot} [Revised slightly on July 11, 2002. Revised end on July 19, 2002]

Eternally Different

"Hmm, hmm, hmm."

Wufei tosses the stack of photographs at me and I flip through them quickly, not bothering to slow my responses down to an acceptable human level seeing as how it's just the two of us.

I note that each photograph has a square label in the upper right corner, not big enough to interfere with the picture but large enough for a number to be written in it, noting the sequence in which the pictures were taken. At first that hardly seems necessary but I can see why he's done it after a minute.

I shuffle them until they're back in order and study the first for a moment. This one I took from the porch of the inn, just for a quick view of the town spread out in the distance. The quality of it is hazy and dark, as if I were in motion while taking it, at sunset, without the flash on. I hadn't been. I had been standing deathly still, and the sun was high above us in the sky.

The pictures steadily deteriorate in quality from there, and the last nine are completely black.

It's pictures 7 through 15 that catch my attention though. The others I drop back on the bed.

Wufei settles against my side as I study the remaining pictures and for a brief moment his heat, the rich mortality that oozes from him, the sweet taste of flesh in the back of my throat, that is all distracting. But only a moment. It's too… familiar for me to be lost long.

"Odd isn't it?" His breath is hot against my shoulder.

"Hmm is right. Isn't this the resistant film?"

"Mm hmm."

"Damn."

"Precisely my thought when I flipped through them earlier. Ask our delightful innkeeper why he has a darkroom next time you see him."

I half smile at the thought, reading the underlying message quite clearly. "Sure."

I flip through the pictures again, not even looking at them, just letting my mind take in the information there and assimilate it in it's own way. 7 through 15 are just as hazy as the others, just as darkened and shadowed, but for that all I can still make out the shapes of things, pick up small details here and there. And the discolorations are just as noticeable as the small details; seemingly nothing more than dark smudges, little spots, an odd mix of dark blue and dark purple, and the faintest hints of green here and there, mixed in with the photo. Energy splashes.

Of course, energy splashes usually only show up in highly charged areas, which this is granted, but on regular film. The resistant film we'd been using should have ignored the hot spots of directed energy, filtered it out, and taken a regular picture. Should have.

"Mm hmm. Should have, but didn't. These levels are high, high enough to qualify as reactive."

"Active."

"That too. But we knew there was active spell casting going on, all the charms over doorways and around windows."

"Green, blue, purple…" I sigh and lean into Wufei's body. "I can't pick up any yellow, orange, or red anywhere."

"There aren't any, I already sent it through the scanner."

"This is really serious."

"Those readings don't worry me as much as the other one does." Wufei reaches

down and sorts through the pictures on my lap until he finds 15. Funny thing is I can't remember taking pictures 10 and up but I must have for them to be here.

I take the picture from him and study it, attention first on the houses bordering the main focus of the picture. It is with interest and a slowly growing dread I note the large patches of dark blue and dark purple dotting the structures, and beyond that, though it takes me a minute to see, there is a pure line of dark purple that borders both sides of the main focus. The main focus itself is nothing but a rectangle of black. And not just any black, but the purest black possible, the most complete and intense black, the black of death.

"Peridan's?" It's not really a question.

"Yes."

"It's a…"

"Black hole. I know. Except…" Wufei reaches out and lightly touches the side of the black shape, drawing my attention to the almost invisible bands of white going across the picture like bars.

I let out a dry breath and lean closer. "Are you sure?"

"I have the scanner reading if you'd like to see."

"No, that's okay. So basically… it's a cage."

Wufei half nods.

"You said something." He stops uncertainly. I turn to look into his face, reading the hesitancy to bring the topic back to life in those midnight eyes.

"I said…"

"You said it was calling you, when we were just outside Peridan's house, and that that house wasn't warded to keep something out, not that one in particular."

"I did, did I?" I curl into the warmth of his body as I search through my admittedly hazy memory for that. There it is, tucked away where I wouldn't have found it if I hadn't been searching for it specifically.

I review the memory with a half frown. "I… I'm not sure…"

I'm staring up at Peridan's house, bathed in the weak light of dawn, as two figures I recognize stand just off the porch speaking softly. They look up as the door opens, one with bright interest on his features, the other with detached amusement. The woman, wife my mind supplies, shuffles out from the house steering two children, a hand resting lightly on a shoulder.

The old man moves stiffly from the shadows and stops at the edge of the steps up the porch, face unreadable though I can sense through senses not my own the sorrow that is heavy enough to crush. The woman says something to the children, crouching to hug each tightly, and then she straightens, says something else, pushes the children gently down the steps. They look up at the old man as he pulls them down to him, faces pale and pinched with fear.

The other man, features before blurred and unseen now clear, dark eyes like Wufei's but not so enticing, hair the color of soot, face pale yet infused with the life of others, he steps up to the old man, smiling down at the children, smiling at the young boy.

The mother whimpers, fear for her children almost tangible in it's weight, and rushes down the steps unsteadily to them. From within the house there is a scream that no human could ever make, of pure rage and hunger, and the old man pales, winces, pulls the children close to him. The woman stops, looking back to the house with wide eyes, then scrambles up the steps to collapse on the porch, sobbing brokenly, eyes haunted. The scream of rage dies as soon as she touches the porch again.

`Foolish woman.' A chuckle that is sinful, liquid, ebony.

A thought whispers through my mind. As sweet as the blood of children.

The vampire kneels beside the children and they draw back, against the old man, straining to crawl back into the comfort of their mother's arms. The old man holds tight even as the other draws the boy to him.

`I'll look after him.'

The old man trembles with some emotion at the soft words. The woman screams at him, still broken on the porch's red stained wood, her words lost in the anguish that has stolen her voice. He seems about to argue, even as he draws the girl closer to him.

The fiery redhead moves for the first time since coming, stopping in front of the old man, shaking his head, a smile hovering at the corners of his mouth.

`Don't meddle in our affairs.' A silken caress, this voice, hard steel covered in velvet.

A gasp, the old man looks fearfully past the creature before him to where the boy is, and something within him seems to break at seeing the adoring, loving smile on the child's face as he gazes up at the other man. The man touches the boy's face lightly, bends to kiss him softly along the cheeks, against the throat, tongue flicking out against the lips as he stands. The boy doesn't even blink.

The old man's attention is brought back to the one before him with the soft caress

of a pale hand along his cheek. `He'll be taken care of, you concentrate on your own affairs.'

Defeated the old man looks down, at the young girl, staring up at him in fear and horror, her blue eyes glazed with unshed tears as she twists to look at her older brother. The old man knows the children would be better off if kept together.

`Would you rather my son take both of them?'

The answer is reflected in his eyes.

`Then don't think things like that. You take care of her, watch over everything. You know your task, don't fail me, child.'

`Sorry, my lord.'

`It's okay.' One last painfully gentle caress and he turns back to the other two, shaking his head with a frown. He says something; the man looks up from the child, then a slow smile curls onto his face.

I rock back, unsteady, feel warm arms come around me and pull me close, breathe in Wufei's warm earthy scent even as I feel his mind brush against mine, calming and soothing, no words, just sensations and impressions and emotions and feelings.

"The old man-."

"Shh."

I let myself relax, knowing it won't do any good to fight Wufei about this, and he smiles, I can just sense the amusement and relief and silent good humor. I realize in the detached way of it not really mattering that I've been pulled onto Wufei's lap. There's nothing unusual in that.

My arms curl around his neck and I bury my face in his shoulder, letting my mind drift along all the information that I've picked up. I need to talk to the old man. That thought is first in my mind. The old man will have answers.

Wufei sighs softly into my hair. "All right, we'll go find him and you can talk to him."

I draw back from him at that; nod.

We find him sitting alone in the kitchen, the kitchen itself an odd mix of old and new, and he looks up from a glass of iced tea, face hardening. "You shouldn't be down here."

"We need to talk." I gesture to the charm set above the kitchen door.

He stares blankly at us, not uncomprehending as his expression would want one to believe, just unwilling to allow me into the room, unwilling to speak to us.

"I can come in and drag you out here," Wufei tells him.

The old man sighs, a sound that seems to rattle hollowly in his chest. "Fine. Come in."

The warding breaks with those words and I can enter the kitchen without a problem, even with the charm still sitting useless above the door. I pull a chair out opposite the old man and settle into it with my usual gracelessness. Wufei snorts and mutters something that sounds like "Hardly".

"What can I call you?"

The old man's eyes flit back and forth between Wufei and I. I can sense Wufei hovering in the background just behind me somewhere, though I don't know what he's doing back there when there's an open chair just beside me.

"People call me Tom."

"Foreigners?"

"Mostly." He half frowns. "You two…"

"Confidant."

"What about the other one?"

Wufei touches my shoulder lightly and I glance back at his face, then to the old man. "That's… really complicated actually." I'm aware in some part of my mind that Wufei has taken to unthreading a strand of hair that's snaked its way between the threads of my shirt.

"The thing is," I begin, watching the old man carefully. "There's something odd going on here, and I think you know what that might be."

He blanches. Granted it's not that noticeable, he might slip it by Heero even, but I'm already quite attuned to the blood flowing through him and I'm bound to notice when most of it drains from his face.

I'm honestly beginning to believe that there's something going on here that is, well, inherently evil, which is a term I won't use lightly knowing what can come of it. And the man sitting in front of me is a part of it, but as for being a part of the whole, he is not inherently evil. That conclusion helps me decide my next course of action.

_____________

The quiet knock on the door startles us both more than I'd like to admit. Wufei stares at the door suspiciously a moment before his body relaxes and he moves from the bed to answer it, disentangling himself from the tangle that is my limbs and braid. He stands there a moment at the open doorway, and then steps back so Trowa can come into the room, followed by Quatre, and finally you.

Imperfect Prussian bore into me a moment, long enough that Wufei looks over, something flickering through his eyes too fast for me to pick up and understand. That starts a chain reaction of course, catching Quatre's attention, and he looks between the three of us curiously before something like understanding dawns on his face. Quatre's focus is not lost on Trowa and he does his own private study and comes to whatever conclusions he might come to.

All this in less than ten seconds. I can't help but feel our group dynamic just shifted somehow.

Trowa's eyes fall to the photographs and he gathers them up, flipping through them efficiently, a half frown on his face. "What happened?"

Quatre leans over his shoulder with a frown. "Looks like energy splashes."

"What kind of film did you use? And where did you develop them?"

Wufei and I share a glance before he answers. "ERR500, Zacore. And they were developed here. Apparently the inn has the… equipment necessary to develop that sort of film."

"We'll come back to that. Has this been scanned, or is there…" Quatre trails off as Wufei holds out a folded sheet of paper. It only takes a moment for Quatre to open it and take the results in, Trowa peering over his shoulder.

I realize it feels nice to be working along side people who are just as weird as I am, and as much a part of the war effort, and that we can be open with who we are. That is, until my eyes settle on you, standing off to the side, clearly puzzled but brooding silently, taking everything in and trying to make sense of it.

In a roomful of Differents you are the only normal one. That thought steals away my breath. I wonder how.

Murmuring, soft but insistent, I listen for a moment then concede to Wufei that Trowa isn't gifted in anyway, and then I point out that he's been neck deep in Different business for probably his entire life.

"What's going on?"

I focus on you again and you've closed in on yourself, taken a defensive in a situation where one is hardly needed, feeling… separate, unattached. I motion you over to the bed, and when you don't move I reach out and snag you by the wrist, pull you to me before you can resist or come willingly.

I wonder how we're supposed to explain an entire underground class of existence to you in one sitting. Without even looking around I can tell the others aren't going to be offering any suggestions. Sighing silently I decide to avoid it.

I give you a cheeky grin. "I'll tell you when you're older, Hee-chan."