InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Perfect Standoff ❯ Chapter 6

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

I don't own Inuyasha or any Other Characters either excluding the ones I create (yes I own Mark, Axe, and Bo).

Chapter 6:

Present day-USA (ha ha)

Sgt. Mark Jarvik rolled over. He opened his eyes, it was night. His eyes coming into focus on the monitor displaying his vitals, a regular beep came from the machine with each beat of his heart. He groaned, the smells of the hospital assaulting his nose.

He started to sit up but fell back on to the hospital cot. Grunting from the pain in his abdomen, he lapsed back into unconsciousness. The black engulfing him, consuming him in the nothingness that was unconsciousness. The monitor chirped as his blood pressure dropped and his heart rate slowed.

The next day he opened his eyes suddenly, this wasn't his bunk, and his gut hurt, almost like his innards had been ripped out and knotted up before being stuffed back into him. He heard voices, all around him. They sounded distant, like he was listening to them through a door. He had to sit up. He needed to check out his surroundings, figure out where he was.

Grunting and nearly screaming from pain, he gripped the edge of the bed and pulled himself up right. A fast, steady beep caught his attention. Looking around the white room filled with medical equipment he found the source, a monitor that was hooked up to his body with numerable wires, cables, and cords. Then it hit him. He was in the hospital. FUCK! I got hit. GOD DAMN IT!

The voices were getting louder now. Lying back down on the bed he found the “raise” button on the guardrail. He pushed it down and let the bed push him into a sitting position. The whirring sound almost drowned out the voices.

Mark let go of the button. Watching the door. He thought he heard the sound of his mates. God I hope it is you guys.

The handle on the door turned and a man wearing a white coat walked into the room. The man seemed not to notice him. Checking the equipment for information.

“Hey, buddy!” Mark said. The doctor jumped about a foot in the air. “Mind handing me the remote.”

The man smiled. “Not yet, you have visitors to entertain.”

Mark groaned. He didn't want to talk to any doctors today. “Don't worry, it's your squad.” The man said it as if Mark should have known that, and he should have.

The doctor walked back to the door and opened it, saying, “He's up.”

The poor man was shoved out of the way as Mark's squad members rushed in, or the ones that were still alive anyway.

The four men were all covered in small cuts and bruises. The first one, a tall, fit man with red, wavy hair and a heavy build in his mid twenty's, grabbed Marks shoulders, crying for joy that he was still alive. “Damn it Runt, How many times do I have to tell you to quit stealing gut bling from the enemy?”

“I'm fine Axe.” Mark grinned at the use of his old nickname, “How's it going?”

“We're good.” Axe said, pushing down into the mattress.

“Come on Axe,” Called Bo, a sandy haired, tall, skinny, guy in his early twenties, “Give the rest of us a turn.”

“Fine,” Axe said, faking hurt.

Bo couldn't speak when he got up to Mark, he just grinned and playfully punched Marks fore head. Mark returned the punch, gently pushing his fist into Bo's jaw, forcing his head side ways.

Bo left and stood in the corner next to Axe while the other two said their hellos.

The five talked for three or four hours before Axe suggested that some one go get a pizza. After much debate over which two would go get it, Bo and Axe won the right to stay via rock-paper-scissors. The losers grumped for a minute or two before jogging out the door.

Mark turned to Axe and Bo, “So where's every one else?”

Bo broke and started sobbing into his hands; Axe held it together, tears leaking out of his eyes. “Dead…”

Mark didn't comprehend, “Wh-what?”

“They're all dead,” sobbed Axe, loosing his composure, “Flowers, Xeno (pronounced zen-oh), Bull, Donut, Ox, Tex…” He was crying harder now, “Sarge, Its just you me, Bo, Al, and Dic. Tex, Flowers, Bull, and Ox were all killed on site. Donut died on the way here, and Xeno came round yesterday, maybe 10 minutes after we met up with him he just asked to go to sleep, and then he died.”

Mark hung his head, tears dripping into his bandages, making the wounds burn. They all cried for a solid five minutes. Mark cried for the first time since he was eight, all of them, no this must be a bad dream, I'll wake up and we'll land…this can't be real.

Axe was the first to recover and the other two followed suit soon after. Mark asked for the remote and turned on the TV. The clock on the wall read '11:30-Friday'

The three watched the David letterman show, getting a few kicks out of it before Al and Dic showed up with a few pizzas and a case of good beer.

The pizza didn't last long and the beer didn't fare much better. The four eventually left, laughing and joking leaving a very happy sergeant behind them.

Mark didn't want them to go, but he needed time to think about what had happened, to put it all together. He'd do that tomorrow. He rolled over and fell asleep quickly, the events of the past playing through his head.

Flashback

He was a Sergeant, today was his seventeenth birthday, and things were finally looking up from his childhood. He reflected on why he joined the paratroopers.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

He had been mercilessly teased, and bullied at school, and things were starting to turn around. It was spring and his family was going to the beach for his dad's birthday. His life was about to return to the trend of unkindness that had plagued him since birth.

He looked up from his mp3 player. And out the window into the night. A light caught his attention briefly before he fell asleep.

When he woke up the car hit a bump and stalled. His dad got out and popped the hood, examining the engine.

“Hey dad,” Mark had called, “I'm gonna go take a piss.”

“Alright, hurry though, I almost have it fixed.” His dad had told him. Mark walked away to relieve himself.

He finished and pulled up the fly on his jeans. Turning around he saw a light moving toward the car. He watched as his dad got in and started the engine. The light still coming closer. A train horn sounded as his dad put the car in gear, it died again.

Mark could only watch as his dad franticly tried to start the engine. Catching on the third try he gunned it, but the train was too close to escape now. The car disintegrated as the train plowed into it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

That was why he had joined, the loss. That night was almost two years behind him now, and not a tear shed. He had decided that he would run from that life, he had joined the paratroopers, and he was happy. The kill or be killed life style they led suited him.

He looked out the small window at the airport they were landing at. Turning to his squad he said, “hold on we're gonna touch down soon.” Not even a minute later the plane dived for the runway, equipment slid forward until the restraints caught them.

Xeno let go of the bar he was holding on to and slid forward next to his best friend, and squad leader. “My girl's gonna be happy to see me.” He grinned broadly.

“Your lucky to still have one.” Ox said. He was touchy about the girlfriends and wives of his squad mates. Ox's girl had dumped him for a lawyer. He had walked in on them, when he was eating her out.

Mark looked at Ox; he knew what he had seen. Ox had only ever talked to him about it. Poor bastard.

The rest of the landing passed in silence, so did getting off the plane. People flocked to the fence, trying to spot their loved ones. He and his squad moved straight for the terminal. This wasn't a place for reunions, the other side of the terminal was. A man on a tug came toward them driving up to their small group, asking for autographs. They agreed, gathering around the tug.

Xeno suddenly yelled “BOMB” the man was about to click his pen when Xeno yelled. The squad scattered, the man clicked his pen, and the tug exploded, disintegrating the man and the tug. Mark saw Tex get torn in half as a part of the tug sliced into his back, and hunk of shrapnel lodged itself at the base of his skull. The heat wave washed over him and some thing caught his back, spinning him around. He started to fall backward when a secondary explosion sprayed more shrapnel at the area surrounding. A piece caught him in the brisket and he flew backward, he sat there for fighting for consciousness. He let his head fall back when sirens exploded in the distance, his head lolling back as he slipped under a blanket of unconsciousness.

End Flashback

Mark woke up. He was covered in cold sweat. He rolled over and looked out the window, watching the sunrise. He was going to have to start over again. Maybe in Japan…

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The next month passed uneventfully, his squad was reassigned and shipped back to the war, he was honorably discharged, and he ended up paying for his medical bills himself.

He was finally released from the hospital a month and a half after the attack. His life in taters once again. He closed his bank account, and caught a bus for Seattle. He had a certain acquaintance to meet. He was going to leave. America wasn't for him. He was getting out, starting over.

-Seattle-

Mark walked up the stairs to room 1313 in a large apartment complex. He knocked on the door, and whispered “Black International.”

The door opened a crack, the room's owner peering out. “Well Mark, good to see you.”

Mark pulled out a $100 bill, passing it through. He had another fifty thousand where that came from and he'd need it all, every last cent.

The man opened the door, his short gray hair was neatly combed straight, almost a buzz cut. Mark walked in and closed the door behind him, making sure to bolt it.

The man pulled out a chart of the world, saying, “Where to?”

Mark sat down at a small table, his back to the door, “Japan.”

The man nodded, and also sat down, “What else?”

“Here,” mark passed him a sheet of paper, “it has every thing you need on it.” The man pulled it toward him, “ and one more thing,” Mark pulled out an m1911 (.45 cal pistol, used from ww1-vietnam by US military), “I need another one of these and a lot of ammo.”

(a/n: Skipping the rest of the transaction and the trip because I don't know how to write it)

Walking down the gangplank to the dock, Mark pulled out his wallet. He looked at his driver's licence. He was a 17 year old, adopted son of Sesshomaru and Rin Inu Toshki, his name was different though, It was no longer Mark Jarvik. He wanted nothing to do with his years as a paratrooper any more. He was now Blake Inu Toshki.

He pulled a piece of paper out of his wallet. On it were the directions to the home where he was to live, or rather the manor. He was going to stop running here, He had paid the money to clear the lies of his past, and he was going back to school, this is what his parents had wanted.

They had named Sesshomaru his godfather when he was born, and he had agreed. `But' Sesshomaru had said all those years ago, `only because you saved Rin.'

Mark/Blake never questioned the meaning of this. He dismissed it as a mugging.

Mark/Blake started walking away from a secret filled past, into a future filled with secrets kept from him. Mark/Blake had a good feeling about this. He was going to do it right this time.

A/N: Well there's chapter 6. I know, no Inuyasha. This was very important though. I needed to give some background on why Blake/Mark is the way he is. And to answer claire's review. No, I spent 3 days trying to kill him, and he is going to stay dead. It took forever to get that close to the way I wanted it. Tell me what you think about Mark/Blake. No update until I get 2 reviews on this chapter.

P.S. I'm going to miss RvB. Bye Sarge, Simmon, Grif, Donut, Church, Tucker, Tex, Caboose, Doc, Andy, Sheila, Sister, that little alien baby of Tucker's, O'Mally, and any others I for got to mention. I'd cry but men don't cry over the end of RvB, we mope. Mope mope mope…