InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity Redux: Fruition ❯ Fury ( Chapter 36 )

"What . . . the hell . . .?"

Scowling at the area as he slowly shook his head, Ben rubbed his forehead as he tried to make sense of what his nose was telling him.  It was easy enough to locate the babies' trail, along with the scent of a strange youkai.  His scowl darkened.  'That guy . . . The one that took the pictures . . .? But he . . . Unker?  Damn it!'

The problem wasn't that.  The problem was that Charity's scent—far stronger than that of the twins and the cougar-youkai—indicated that she'd taken off not too long ago, but in the opposite direction.

'Which one . . .?'

'Don't be stupid, Ben!  The babies!  Get after them!  They're the ones in trouble, and Charity . . . She'd want you to go after them, right?'

"Damn it!" he growled, breaking into a sprint in the direction that the twins had been taken.  Cursing his oversight, he gritted his teeth.  He'd have been there so much sooner if they hadn't had to fly to the other side of the country and damn near to the Pacific Ocean on the other side of Guadalajara . . . But it was entirely careless, wasn't it?  Taking off, going that far away from them when he knew of the threat that the Unker family posed . . .

'Beat yourself up about that later, Ben.  Right now, they need you—your family needs you.'

'Right . . .'

Pushing himself faster, goading himself to move quicker, he uttered a fierce growl.  He should have known; he should have been more cautious . . . How they figured out who had the twins was anyone's guess, and not even the point, at least, at the moment.  He ought to have been more careful, and maybe . . .

Maybe he should have warned Charity, too . . .

Ducking as he broke through the edge of the rain forest, he slashed at the branches that tried to thwart him as he zipped through the trees.  The scents were far more convoluted now, making it much harder to track the twins and Unker.

Dropping to the ground to locate the path again, Ben stifled the desire to decimate something.  He was losing precious time, damn it, and he had very little doubt in his mind that the bastard had done it on purpose, too . . .

'Hold on, girls,' he thought as he located their scents once more.  When he caught up to Unker, he was going to rip him to shreds . . .

Stalking into the darkened house, Charity shook her hand to dispel the tingling in the limb that lingered after the release of the sankon tetsusou that she'd used to blow up the door, and cracked her knuckles, staring down the cougar-youkai without blinking as she unfurled her youki, allowing it to locate the fussing babies over in the corner and mercifully out of harm's way.  The brush of her aura soothed them instantly, and only then did she turn her full attention back to the fool who had dared to touch her children.  "Why did you take them?" she demanded, her words coming from between clenched teeth.   "Just who the hell are you?"

The youkai's eyes glowed though he had yet to move at all.  Staring at her in such an inscrutable way, he seemed to be thinking about something.  For some reason, his demeanor only served to piss her off a little more, and she stalked forward, careful to keep herself between the babies and him.  "Answer me or I'll kill you," she stated flatly, struggling for a calm that she just wasn't feeling.  After all the worry, all the choking fear that she'd felt while she searched for them, she had the feeling that the anger that she carried just might be the only thing still holding her together . . .

"I don't owe you any explanations," he growled, glowing eyes disappearing only for an instant as he blinked.  Suddenly, he shot forward.  Charity braced herself to push him back, but he veered to the side at the last moment, his body a blur of motion as he latched onto Emmeline and held her up in front of him."Put her down!" Charity yelped, starting forward, only to stop when the man scooped up Nadia and held them both tight.  The girls whimpered and squeaked as the fresh assault of tears filled Charity's nose, her senses, as their fear slammed into her, hit her hard, almost brought her to her knees.  "No!" she blurted, holding out a hand.  "Don't hurt them!"

He didn't move at all, but Charity almost thought he had when the squeals and whimpers escalated into full-out sobbing, as the babies she loved so much flailed their arms, kicked their legs, reaching out to her, leaving her powerless, desperate.

"Please . . ."

A flicker of emotion that was gone too fast to discern crossed his features.  Charity bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, fought back the bile that rose in her throat as the tang of her own blood hit her hard.  "What do you want?  Money?  I . . . I have some.  I-I-I have a lot . . . You can have it.  You can have it all, just . . .  Just please . . . Give me back my daughters . . ." To her horror, she felt the bitter sting of tears welling in her eyes, couldn't stop them as they spilled over, as they trailed down her cheeks.  "You . . . You can do what you want to me; I don't care, just please don't hurt them . . . Don't hurt them!"

He stared at her for another long moment; stared at her with an unfathomable expression on his face as she continued to babble, as she tried to fight back the sense of fear that tore at her, as she tried to soothe be babies as best as she could without touching them.  "My—My parents are rich, too—and they'll give you whatever you want—whatever you need . . . Anything—anything . . . Please, please, please . . . Kami, please!  Just give them back, and I'll . . . We'll walk away, and no one will ever know; I promise . . . I won't tell a soul, I swear . . . Please . . ."

He sighed softly, shook his head—or maybe Charity just thought he did, but he finally spoke.  "Hecht," he said, his eyes following her every movement.  "My name's Hecht Unker . . . Their daddy was my uncle."

Charity's eyes flared at the admission before narrowing once more when stubbornness kicked back in.  He was their cousin?  She frowned.  Ben had told her that the twins' mother didn't want her mate's side of the family to get custody of the twins, and if that's how she felt, then Charity wasn't about to hand them over, anyway, even if she were so inclined, which she wasn't.  "Your aunt didn't want your side of the family to have them," she said quietly, and, though her anxiety didn't wane at all, she could feel the rampant fear subside just a little.  "Would you . . .?  Tell me why?"

Hecht cleared his throat because of the dust that was slow in settling.  Again, it took him a minute to answer, but this time, she had the feeling that he was trying to figure out exactly what she might want to know.  "My old man . . . He wants them back," he said, jostling the twins just enough to show her who he was talking about.  Charity winced when the motion drew another round of sniffles and sobs from the twins.  Hecht sighed.  "He wants to sell 'em," he admitted.  "Has a lady lined up, I guess, willing to pay for 'em."

"They already have a mama," she blurted, scowling at the things that Hecht had said.  "I'm their mama . . . Please . . . They're going to cry themselves sick . . ."

He seemed surprised by her words, but Charity held her breath when he took a cautious step toward her—not close enough for her to take her babies, but closer.  "You . . . You love them, don't you?" Hecht asked quietly.  Something about the look on his face horrified Charity, and yet, she would have been hard-pressed to say why that was.

Charity choked out a sob of her own. "More than anything," she whispered, swatting away a tear that escaped to run unbidden down her cheek.  "They're my babies . . ."

He nodded suddenly, his sunken cheeks pinking slightly as he took another step forward, as he allowed her to reach out, to take the babies from him as she broke down in sobs, holding the twins as close as she could as she suddenly collapsed into one of the rickety chairs.  Burying her face in their hair, covering their little faces with a myriad of kisses, she babbled softly to the girls, and they . . . They stopped crying, content in the arms of their mother . . .

"I was . . . Was gonna take them," Hecht admitted quietly, dropping into another of the chairs.  "I . . . I wasn’t gonna take them home, though.  I just thought . . ." Shaking his head in a kind of pathetic way, he sighed again.  "I thought they should be with family—kin . . . But I guess they already are . . ."

"Thank you," Charity rasped out, her voice harsh, weary.

He shrugged.  "I watched you—all of you.  Is that . . .?  Is that how a family's supposed to be?"

She frowned at him as the girls sniffled, hiccupped, and ultimately closed their eyes.  "Yours isn't," she said.  It wasn't a question.

He jerked his head once, barked out a terse and humorless laugh.  "No."

"I'm sorry," she said.  "Children shouldn't be treated badly, ever—especially by the people who should love them the most . . ."

"Uh, w-I . . ." He made a face, scowling at the floor.  "I don't need your sympathy.  Just 'cause they weren't great don't mean . . ."

Charity frowned, wishing that it wasn't so dark.  If she could better see his face, maybe she could begin to comprehend, just why he'd tried to steal the babies . . . She sighed and stood up.  "It's getting late, and I need to get them home," she said.  "I . . . I'm guessing you don't have any diapers or formula here for them?"

"Oh, uh . . ." he grimaced.  "No, I . . . I don't . . ."
Letting out a deep breath, she let her head fall to the side, staring at him as he sat in the last waning daylight filtering through the open doorway.  Something about his aura seemed so isolated, so withdrawn, and she couldn't help the sadness that welled up inside her.  True, she didn't know much about him, but somehow, she could tell . . . He wasn't a bad person.  She didn't know how she knew that, but it was there, wasn't it?  No, he was just . . . just lost . . . and a part of her could understand that a little too well, too . . .

"Hecht-san—Can I call you that?"

He blinked and slowly lifted his gaze to meet hers.  "What's that?  Uh, the 'san' part?"

"It's polite where I'm from originally," she said.  He still didn’t seem like he understood.  “Japan,” she clarified.

He shrugged.  "Just Hecht's fine."

She nodded.  "You . . . You never were going to hurt the girls, were you?"

He looked entirely alarmed at the idea that she'd presented.  "N-No!" he blurted vehemently.  "I . . . I wouldn’t have . . ."

She digested that for several moments, and then, she sighed.  "Why don't you come home with me?  Let us help you."

"Wh—?  Uh, no!  I-I-I mean—"

"Do you want to go back home?  To your family?"

He made a face.  "If I go home now, they'll . . . My old man . . . He'll probably kill me," he replied, and the overwhelming sense of finality in his words dug at her.  "I mean, I'm costing them . . . a hell of a lot of money . . ."

"They're not going to kill you," she stated flatly.  "Come on."  He didn't move, and she lifted an eyebrow.  "I won’t allow it.  Now, come on," she said, a little more forcefully this time.

"But—"

She shook her head again.  "You owe me," she insisted, "for the chloroform."

He grimaced, his cheeks reddening a little more.  "S-Sorry about that."

"You should be," she told him.  "Now, move—before the girls start hollering because they're hungry."

She didn't think he'd comply.  In the end, though, he got to his feet and followed her toward the door.

"Do you have any good memories of your childhood?"

Pausing as he adjusted the boat rudder, he shot her a look.  "Well, yeah . . . I mean, doesn't everyone?"

She smiled.  "Well, I was starting to wonder . . ."

"You warm enough?" he asked suddenly.  "I mean, I could slow it down, but . . ."

"It's fine," she assured him.  He'd told her it would be faster, just to use the boat to get back to the island.

And that only solidified her prior thought that Hecht really hadn't wanted to hurt the babies, and might have even banked on the idea that Charity would come after them, because he hadn't used the boat to take them to that lonely old house, which would have made tracking them pretty much impossible.  Somewhere in the back of his mind, he'd meant to leave the trail for her, even if he hadn't realized that she'd be able to find them without use of her tracking skills . . .

"Your, uh . . . Well, that guy—Ben?  He's not going to be too happy that you're bringing me back," Hecht pointed out, turning up the throttle as the boat sped up, too.

"I'll talk to him," she promised.  "It'll be okay.  So . . . Tell me one of your good memories?  From your childhood?"

He sighed.  "When I was a cub, I used to sneak into the local theater. Watched all kinds of movies with a couple buddies of mine . . . We only got caught once . . ."

She rolled her eyes.  "Breaking the law was your good memory?"

"Well, it was with my friends . . ."

She shook her head but laughed.  "What do you want to do with your life?"

He shrugged.  "Not much I can do," he admitted.  "Haven't been able to land a job since I got out of prison . . ."

"You were in prison?"

He grimaced, but nodded.  "Drugs possession and weapons charge," he said.  "It was my old man's deal.  He made me deliver for him one day, and the cops nailed me.  It was a sting, and I was there . . . I was told later that he heard that it was going to go down.  That's why he made me go . . ."

"That's terrible," she said softly, shaking her head as she stared at him.  “He . . . He framed you . . .”

"That's my dad," he said rather matter-of-factly, as though that explained everything.

She didn't know what to say to that.  What kind of parent would do that?  'And that's why the twins' mom didn't want them left with her mate's family . . .'

"A parent shouldn't ever do something like that, let alone to their child," she replied.  "Can I ask you something?"

He shrugged.

She adjusted her hold on the snoozing babies in her arms, wondering just what would have happened if their father hadn't challenged Cain-oji-san . . . What kind of lives would they have led . . .? "Why do you stay there?" she asked gently.  "Why on earth would you ever go back?  There’s a whole world out there . . . People who could . . . Could help you—who would want to help you—if you just let them . . ."

His answer was as sad as it was full of an awful kind of truth. "Ain't got nowhere else to go," he replied, as if it were the simplest thing in the world, and for some reason, that broke Charity's heart just a little bit more . . .

Charity shuffled back into the living room as she heaved a heavy sigh, rubbing her still-throbbing forehead.  She'd just finished feeding and changing the babies, and they were out cold by the time she'd slipped them into their crib.  Hecht sat out on the edge of the deck, his shoulders slumped as he stared up at the overcast sky—where he'd been since they'd entered the house on the beach over an hour ago.

It was unconscionable, wasn't it?  What his family had done to him over the years . . . And, to be honest, it was something that Charity really didn't comprehend, and maybe that was because her mother and father had been so vastly different, but how fair was it, really?  Did it matter how old Hecht was when all she saw when she looked at him was a sad, lost, lonely little boy?

'Maybe Ben will have an idea,' her youkai-voice said.  'He's smart—and from what he's said, maybe he'd even understand Hecht on some level . . .'

'Ben . . .' she thought, wincing when she realized that she hadn't bothered to call him since she'd gotten back—hadn't even bothered to check to see if he had called during her absence . . .

She started to reach for her phone, but stopped when voices outside drew her attention.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Ben . . ." Charity murmured, swinging around and dashing over to intercept Ben before he reached Hecht, who was slowly starting to rise.  "Ben!"

"Answer me, damn you!  What are you doing here, Unker?"

Hecht lowered his head, reminding Charity of a dog that had just given up.  "Ben!  No!  Stop!" she yelled as she skittered to a halt beside him, grabbing his arm and yanking hard as Ben started to reach out, to grab Hecht.

"It's okay," Hecht muttered without looking at her.  "I . . . I kidnapped your cubs," he muttered, "and I . . . I knocked her out."

Ben shook off Charity's hands, arm flashing out as he grabbed the front of Hecht's shirt and yanked him forward.  "You dared to lay hands on them?  I'll—"

Charity grabbed his wrist again and tugged as hard as she could.  "It's fine, Ben!" she insisted.  "Let go!  We're fine!  We're all fine!"

"No!" Ben growled, refusing to take his eyes off the young man that wasn't trying to fight back at all.  "I'm sick of worrying and wondering if they were going to try something stupid—your damn family!  Their own mother didn’t want your lot to touch them, and you thought—"

Charity's eyes widened then narrowed.  "Wait . . . You knew that they were threatening to come after the girls?  You knew?"

His answer was forestalled when Hecht cleared his throat, when he spoke again.  "Kill me," he said, his voice giving nothing away in emotion.  No, it was just flat . . . hopeless . . . "Just . . .do it."

"You . . . You want me to kill you," Ben asked, shaking his head as he tightened his grip on Unker's shirt.  "Are you stupid?  Do you think it's some weird kind of penance or something?"

"Ben, let go!" Charity insisted, tugging harder on his wrist.  "I mean it!  He didn't hurt the girls or me—he never was going to!  Now stop it!"

"I attacked your . . . your family," Hecht muttered.  "It's your job, isn't it?"

"Don't you tell me what my 'job' is," Ben gritted out as he dealt Hecht a good, solid shake, unable to get a grip on the overwhelming ire—the late worry that had festered all day until frothed and roiled into what it was now: a sense of impotent rage: unspent anger at the base inability to protect his mate and his children . . . He'd followed the trail until he's realized that it had circled around past the beach and exactly in the direction that Charity's scent had gone.  By the time he'd reached the desolate little house on the crag, he'd been well beyond reason, and then to find them gone?  Crackling his knuckles, drawing his free hand back as a spark of golden fire erupted in his palm, he uttered a terse growl.

"Ben!  Stop it!" Charity screamed.

Another hand pushed Charity away as Ben jerked and let go of Hecht, sending the young man sprawling back as the youkai-flame shot off Ben's hand, straight up into the air, only to explode in a bright wash of color, like fireworks on the Fourth of July.

Ben grunted, yanking against the arms that locked under his and up over his shoulders.  "Ben!  Calm down!" Toga growled, giving the panther another hard shake for good measure, adjusting his grip, lest Ben decide he wanted to break free.

It took a moment for Toga's voice to register in Ben's head.  Slowly, the edge of the anger faded, enough that Ben stopped struggling.  Satisfied that he was calming down, the Japanese tai-youkai heaved a sigh and finally let go.

He didn't spare Toga or Charity a glance as he stomped over to the still-prone body of Hecht Unker.  Draping his hands on his hips, he glowered down at the younger man.  "Why do you want to die?" he demanded in a no-nonsense tone.

Hecht sat up slowly, shook his head.  "You . . . Them . . . It doesn't matter.  I'm dead, either way."

Charity pushed against Ben's chest until he stepped back.  "They wanted him to bring them back," she said, holding out a hand to help Hecht to his feet.  He ignored the gesture and stayed on the sand.  "They want to sell the babies, and . . ." Chin snapping up, she slowly rounded on Ben, eyes blazing with an inner fire—an anger—a rage.  "But you knew that already, didn't you, Ben?"  She glowered at him for another long moment before that gaze flicked to her father.  "Did you, Papa?  Did you know it, too?"

Toga didn't answer, but he had the grace to look away.  Charity drew her own conclusions from that.  "And no one thought to tell me about this?"

"Charity—" Toga began, only to be cut off by his daughter's loud snort.

"Who else knew?" she demanded quietly, then she shook her head.  "Everyone with a penis, am I right?"

Toga sighed.  "No one wanted to worry you when there really wasn't any real proof," he explained.  "No one wanted you to be afraid . . ."

"Those are my children, Papa," she gritted out.  "I had a right to know!"

"It was my call, Charity," Ben said.  "Don't be mad at your father."

Her temper snapped as she stomped over to him, as she glowered up at him, as she slowly, slowly shook her head.  "Your call?  Just like everything—everything—is always your call!  Everything about our relationship, our history, our—You know something?  You seem to forget that this is all a two-way street, Ben Philips—and you do not always get the final say!  You had no right to keep this from me!  No right at all!  I would have been on guard if I'd known!  I would have known to look for signs of danger, but you didn't!  And just because everything turned out all right this time doesn't mean it would the next time!  And if there is a next time, you'd better never keep something like this from me, ever again!"

Turning on her heel, she started to stomp away, only to stop as she swung around to pin him with a formidable glower once more.  "That was your call, was it?  Well, here's mine.  You are not to hurt him!  You will not!  What you're going to do is help him because no one else ever has!  Now, I'm going inside.  I'm calling the airport, and I'm taking my babies home, and you . . . You can stay here and do whatever you want, but don't you dare come back until you're ready to deal with the fact that you were dead damn wrong, and I'll think about whether or not I'll accept your apology!"