Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ I'm Free ❯ Chapter 8 ( Chapter 8 )

Trigun Fanfic

Summary:Why did it all go wrong? When did it all go wrong? He has a vague sense that he isn't where he's supposed to be, that he's being held by invisible bonds that he cannot see. Great sadness engulfs him as he looks upon the glowing bulbs and one thought reigns in his mind as he looks at the people looking back at him: You can't take me! I'm free!

 

Trigun © Yasuhiro Nightow * Shonen Gaho-sha * Tokuma Shoten * JVC * Pioneer Entertainment (USA) Inc.

The following fan fiction was written by me (Chiruken) and is intended for the sole purpose of shared entertainment and not intended for publication or sale.

 

I'm Free

 

By Chiruken

 

Chapter 8

 

On Board Project SEEDS, 132 Years Ago:

 

He closed his eyes tightly shut so as not to see the heavy hand descending towards him. Clenching his teeth together, he fought to hold his silence, to not cry out as pain exploded throughout his head and back as the blow threw him backwards into the hard, unforgiving sterile wall. The reek of alcohol was strong, cloying his senses and turning his stomach.

 

He lay unmoving on the cold floor, having learned through bitter experience that trying to get away would only result in more pain. Breathing shallowly, he opened his eyes and glared up at the man towering above him in time to see him hold the nearly empty bottle to his lips and upend it before tossing it carelessly to the side, seemingly oblivious to the sound of glass smashing. “Monsters…” A loud belch interrupted the familiar speech. “Freaks, the both o' ya!” He couldn't hold in the sharp cry of pain as the man's foot connected with his side, lifting him off the floor and throwing him to the side. “Ain't normal! Nobody listens t' me…I know…I know…” The slurred speech drifted off into unintelligible mutterings for a moment. “Kill us all in our sleep…lil hell-spawn!”

 

His eyes widened as he watched Steve reach to the side for a large crowbar. With a soft whimper of terror, he scrambled out of the way as it descended towards him, wincing as the metal clanged against the decking, vibrating it beneath his hands and knees as he crawled behind a piece of heavy equipment, wedging himself against the wall. “Rem…” He breathed her name, desperate, yet unable to actually call out to the woman for help, knowing that he wouldn't be heard through the walls and over the sound of equipment running. He shook his head to clear away the remnants of sluggishness the previous blow had left and twisted around until his back was to the wall, facing the opening he'd managed to crawl into. He covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut tight as the inebriated crew member continued to shout obscenities at him, profane words of hate and menace that filled him with equal parts of disgust and fear.

 

“C'mon outta there, freak!” He pulled back, hugging his knees to his chest and lowered his head, long blond hair falling forward to hide his face. “I ain't gonna hurt ya…much!” He jumped at the loud report of metal striking against metal. “Jus' gonna teach ya yer place, is all…can't let ya think yer better `n us…” He squeezed his eyes shut tight again and tried to focus on anything other than the man shouting invectives at him and threatening him. “Gottcha!” His head snapped up painfully as he felt a hand fist in his hair and drag him upwards. He couldn't hold in the scream of terror as he was pulled from his hiding place and thrown to the grated decking.

 

The blows rained down, seemingly with no end. He'd given up on counting long before, back when the beatings had first begun, choosing instead to retreat to a place inside his mind where the ugliness of reality couldn't find him. He concentrated on the faces he remembered from the profiles, the names of each person and his hopes for their future together. He thought of Rem and her gentle smile and soft voice. He remembered the games he'd played with his brother in the Recreation Room. He tried to think of everything good and kind and beautiful to push the horrible truth of his present from his mind. He was thankful that he'd been able to protect his brother from the vicious beatings at the hands of Steve. He could be content knowing that Vash was safe in the Recreation Room with Rem, listening to her stories of Earth and her dreams of the future. He would never have to know about the cruel side of humans, not as he was learning about it. For that, he would endure anything.

 

Just when he thought he could take no more the blows stopped just as suddenly as they'd begun. He drew in a shuddering breath, whimpering at the pain the action brought. He could taste blood and every breath caused excruciating agony to flare through his chest. He knew that Steve had hurt him worse this time than he ever had before and he wondered idly if the strange lethargy overcoming him meant that he was dying. He bit his lip and slowly, painfully, lifted his head to stare at the man slumped against the wall through a blur of tears. I don't want to die! He thought desperately. Not here, not like this… He listened for a moment and finally breathed a silent sigh of relief when he heard the man's loud snores. Slowly, with difficulty, he crawled towards the desk near the door where he paused to try to catch his breath before using it to pull himself to his feet where he swayed unsteadily, dark spots forming in his vision as he gasped, shooting shards of agony piercing his chest and side. With one last, anxious look over his shoulder towards the crew member passed out on the floor, he pressed his hand to the console and bit his lip worriedly when the door opened with a soft shushing sound. Looking towards Steve again, he was relieved to see that the sound of the door opening hadn't roused him from his drunken stupor.

 

He staggered out into the corridor and made his way unsteadily towards the medical center, silently praying that he didn't meet anyone along the way. It took all his concentration to remain on his feet as he clung to the walls for support, forcing one foot in front of the other. He hated this…this pain, this fear, this horrible feeling that made him feel as if he'd be physically ill at any moment. He knew that eventually Steve would no longer be content with merely hurting him, that someday soon he'd be overcome with his hatred and not stop…would continue until he was dead, and maybe Vash, too. He bit his lip, tears slowly trickling down his cheeks from the horrible pains lancing throughout his bruised and battered body as well as the ache in his heart. Rem alone couldn't protect them, that much had become clear to him. Something had to be done, and soon, he just didn't know what.

 

He didn't know how many times he fell as he made his slow way to the medical center, but when he finally managed to stagger through the doors into the semi-dark room he sobbed with relief as he fell against the console. Gritting his teeth, he typed in the commands on the keyboard and slid slowly to the floor as he waited for the cylindrical medical capsule to open for him. He lowered his head and concentrated on breathing shallowly for several long moments before forcing his body to move the last few meters between where he'd fallen to the medical equipment waiting in stand-by mode for him. Pulling himself up painfully, he half collapsed, half climbed into it and waited for the lid to close as the darkness pulled at him. In two hours it'll be like nothing happened. He thought fuzzily. No more bruises, no more broken bones…only memories. He sighed as warmth infused his body, beginning the healing process. His last conscious thought was wistful…Why can't everyone be like Rem?...then the healing sleep overtook him and he fell into nightmares filled with pain and tears.

 

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