Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ Behind Enemy Lines ❯ (Blood)lust and Separation ( Chapter 3 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Behind Enemy Lines

By: rainjewel

Chapter Three: (Blood)lust and Separation

~*~

"May your souls forever rest with Jeture and Great Mother Gaea," Van said, finishing up his improvised eulogy. Dilandau watched stone-faced as the "funeral" came to an end. He hadn't said anything throughout the entire ordeal, and was beginning to become very, very bored.

After Celena's "hold me" episode (which he had only done to cement the image of Celena as a childish girl...and to find a nice spot to stick a knife) Van had asked what had become of Allen's body. Dilandau said nothing had been done, for Gaddes had died before anything could be done. Van had immediately left the room, running to Allen's room at what Dilandau assumed was a horrifying pace. He remembered grinning, hearing the boy-king's retching at what must have been a gruesome sight. Van must have wrapped and dragged the fallen Knight (and Gaddes as well, can't forget that good old boy) down into the Schezar's personal graveyard before he had called Celena down, spouting nonsense about a funeral.

"Why isn't Allen going in the Asturian graveyard with Mother and Father? Why aren't you telling Gaddes' family about his death?" Dilandau had asked in his best Celena voice. Van had looked at him so sadly.

"Because then I would have to explain how they died, and that would cast a lot of suspicion on you, Celena."

Gods, this was so much fun. Dilandau knew that Van was certain that dearest Celena did have that heathen Dilandau running around inside her. And yet, he was still helping her. What a Dear Heart. It made him sick to his stomach. Dilandau knew that Van was still mooning over that Mystic Moon bitch. Perhaps he could pull his heartstrings and really fuck with the boy's emotions. That would make the game more interesting.

But Dilandau had had enough of playing kissy-face to people that he couldn't stand. If he was up for it, he was up for it. Right now he was going to concentrate on what was going to happen tonight:

Separation.

~*~

Van threw the last of the dirt on the two unmarked graves. His heart hurt. His soul hurt. And damnit, his arms hurt like crazy! Gods, Allen and Gaddes deserved better then this. He vowed that the minute Celena was sorted out, he would have the biggest goddamn funeral in all of Gaea.

Celena. She was so hard to figure out. One minute she was a little girl, crying and needing protection, and the next minute she was cool as ice, and sharp as a razor. He suspected Dilandau had some part in the latter. Van couldn't believe that he was putting himself through all this hell for his archenemy. It didn't make any sense. Nothing, actually, made sense anymore.

"Van?"

He turned and mopped his brow with a gloved hand. Celena stood, looking down at the two fresh mounds of dirt with an unreadable emotion upon her face.

"What is it?" he asked, his breathing ragged.

"Do you remember how I said I was going to need your help later?" She said, her eyes snapping up to his, focusing in with an intensity that Van was trying to get used too.

"Yes."

Celena smiled. "Then don't make dinner plans."

"Huh?" Van was puzzled. Dinner plans? It was almost dark outside, who would eat dinner at this hour?

"Never mind," Celena said, her voice hiding a chastising undertone. She extended a hand, and pulled Van close to her. She looked into his eyes for a moment, analyzing him. Van took a deep breath, feeling rather shaky for some reason. "Come with me," she finally said.

Van nodded and began to follow Celena. She marched through the gate and into the walled gardens surrounding the actual house. She walked with determination, but she wasn't walking fast. Interesting.

"Celena, how am I going to help you?" Van asked as they walked up the steps to the front door. The girl stopped, her hand resting on the doorknob. She looked to Van with such a…a hunger in her eyes that he almost stepped back.

"I simply need you to take that pendant there," Celena placed a cool, bandaged (now how did she get that?) hand on Van's sweaty chest, her palm covering the pendant. He shivered. "And use it to wish me the best of luck. To wish that I can rid my body and mind of Dilandau Albatou. You must wish that exact wish. That's all you have to do."

Van looked down at Celena's hand where Hitomi's pendant lay, and then back up to the young Schezar woman. He felt strange. "Wish that you can rid Dilandau of-"

"My body..." Celena cut in, placing another hand on Van's side, "...and mind." Her hand traveled up, never leaving his skin until she cupped his cheek in her cool palm. He was vaguely aware of how close the two of them had become all of a sudden. He could make out every eyelash surrounding Celena's baby blues, and he could see the fading sunlight dancing on her golden curls that were hid inside a dark blue cloak. Van reached out and put a hand on the girl's shoulder. If he leaned forward, just a little bit, he could...

"Body," he whispered, completely overcome, "and mind." He reached up and pushed the cloak's hood back, revealing the golden ringlets. The sight of them made something in Van burst like a breaking dam. His heart seemed to accelerate to twice it's normal speed and his head began to spin. He hadn't felt this way since...

...Hitomi...

Van felt himself leaning forward, and immediately jerked back. His hand slid from the back of Celena's neck and he wiped some imaginary dust on his pants.

"I think I can handle that," he whispered gruffly, bowing his head. He felt Celena's hands slide away from his body. He could feel his body temperature was slowly coming back down...though something else wasn't.

"Well," Celena said brightly, "I'm glad you're up to it!"

Van snapped his head up to look at her with obvious shock. But he was greeted by a vision of her back as she opened the door and walked through it. After a few footsteps she turned back around to him.

"Coming?" Van shut his mouth, blushed furiously, and followed Celena up into the second level of the house. And then he began to think.

Was it just me or did she just try to seduce me? She's so childish though...though gods, she doesn't look childish. Damn Fanel! Keep your head screwed on! Seduce, aren't we jumping to conclusions.

Van looked up from his shoes and looked at Celena's retreating back.

Well, if she just tried to seduce me...I think it might have work--

"We're here." Celena's voice broke through.

"W-what?" Van shook his head. They were at Allen's door. Oh hell no.

Celena turned around and looked at him, worry showing in her eyes. She took off her cloak and dropped it on the floor. Van saw goosebumps prickle on her bare arms.

"I'm going to go in this room, and all I need for you to do is to stand out here and do as I told you. Please do not enter this room until I say otherwise, or it might not work," Celena instructed. Van heard Dilandau's commanding ways shining through her orders. He nodded.

"Is it going to hurt?" Van asked.

"I don't know," Celena replied thoughtfully. She frowned at him. "I might not make it through this."

"You're Allen's sister and you spent ten years of your life as Dilandau. You can definitely make it," Van said, hoping he was sounding reassuring. The ache in his confused heart hurt even worse. Celena smiled at his comment.

The girl stepped close to him again. Van decided to not back away. "You're probably going to kill me for this, but if I don't make it..." Celena trailed off and leaned forward, giving him the first kiss of his young life. Van, for an instant, forgot about a certain green-eyed girl and gave into her. She was here, in the flesh and she (he thought) wanted him. Let him have this false heaven.

Celena pulled away, her full lips more mesmerizing then ever. "There," she stated, sounding out of breath, "You can try to kill me later." She leaned down and kissed the pendant that lay upon Van's breast, making him inhale sharply. Celena then stood up and smiled at him, then opened the door to Allen's room and slipped inside.

Van wrapped the pendant in a fist. He didn't know what to feel towards Celena, and for once he didn't know what to feel towards Hitomi. But, even though there were anxieties lurking in his confused heart, he knew he was going to help Celena.

I wish...

~*~

Dilandau shut the door behind him, an insane (ha, ha) grin upon Celena's face. Gods, that was funny. He had managed to get the Brat King to fall in love (or at least a healthy amount of lust) with Celena.

Well, Van Fanel, I hope you had a good time, for that is all you'll ever get.

Speaking of which, it was time to get down and dirty.

Quickly Dilandau walked over to Allen's closet. He pushed through the many white, pressed shirts (some had puffed sleeves, some did not) and kicked the deceased man's boots out of the way. Gods, it reeked of Allen's cologne. Dilandau wrinkled his nose. He reached up with a hand and felt along the back shelf. He couldn't see too much for Allen (damnit) was taller then Dilandau and the shelf was a lot higher then Celena could manage.

Finally though, his hand hit leather. Dilandau held back a shout of joy. He pulled the leather jacket gently down, as one might a crystal vase. Deftly he caught the spiked shoulder guards and plated overskirt as they to came crashing down. Dilandau reached up one more time and grabbed his boots and soft, lavender undershirt. Surprisingly, his red boxers where in the pile too. Dilandau giggled. Only Allen would keep those. Too bad Celena had dropped his diadem on the battlefield so many colors ago. Dilandau raised his treasure to his face, breathing in the smell of Zaibach: its power, its prestige, and its genius. All of these were his again.

Dilandau walked over the bed (Dear Van had stripped it so only the bare mattress was left…no matter, the bloodstains were still there). Carefully he laid his armor on the bed, and then turned and walked to the center of the room. He closed his eyes and spread his arms out, and then he brought his elbows swiftly into his sides, clenching his fists. As he did that, he retreated into Celena's body. The action did nothing to help his situation but he did it anyway.

He felt Celena sweep past him as she sought to take control of her body. Dilandau tensed and reached out with his mind and grabbed onto her spirit. He jerked her downward with a force that hurt them both. Slowly her form came into view, as did his. Both stood in damnable abysmal blackness.

"What's…what's happening?" Celena asked. Dilandau furrowed his eyebrows, feeling the strain of holding Celena down. He pulled her close to him, hugging her fiercely to him as a lover might. He heard her gasp in pain at how strongly he was holding her. For some reason he felt sorry.

"I need you to do something for me," Dilandau said through painfully clenched teeth. Gods it hurt.

"What?"

"Push against me. Want to be free, Celena. Want to control your own body. Want me to be free as well. Can you do that?" he whispered into the girl's ear. This was not the way such delicate matters should be handled. He was relying on the wishes of a boy and the fragile will of a handicapped girl. Gods.

"Of course, Dilandau-chan," Celena said, hugging him back. "When should I begin?"

"Now," he whispered. And then Celena's will surged up and Dilandau pushed against it as hard as he could.

<…I wish for Celena to rid her body and mind of Dilandau Albatou…>

Red flashed everywhere around Dilandau, and Van's words screamed in his head.

<…I wish for Celena to rid her body and mind of Dilandau Albatou…>

Well, I suppose I didwant red. Dilandau cackled bitterly.

<…I wish for Celena to rid her body and mind of Dilandau Albatou…>

Pain washed over Dilandau in huge crimson waves. He clutched at his body, but he couldn't stop it. That's when he realized the screams were his, not Van's chanting.

<…I wish for Celena to rid her body and mind of Dilandau Albatou…I wish for Celena to rid her body and mind of Dilandau Albatou…I WISH FOR CELENA TO RID HER BODY AND MIND OF DILANDAU ALBATOU!…>

Dilandau screamed one last time as the pain grew to such intensity that red was replaced with blackness and he felt himself hit something hard as stone. And then there was nothing.

***

Alone. He didn't want to be alone! Who was that fucking little girl? Oh gods, he was scared. What was happening? Why couldn't he move!?

"The patient has become unstable! The Fate Alteration wasn't successful. He's going to hurt himself if he keeps this up!

"Chesta! Gatti! Don't leave me!" Oh fuck there was the needle. No! Not that goddamn needle! Where were his Dragonslayers?

"AAAHH!!"

***

Dilandau groaned and opened his eyes. He was lying on a wooden floor. Around him were the smells of blood and men's cologne. Where was…Allen's room? Yes, that was it. Groggily he stood up, his legs shaking under him. Dilandau looked down at them, and then realized he was naked. Dilandau looked up and scratched his head. Now why was he…?

Wait just a fucking second. Dilandau looked back down. That certainly didn't look like Celena down there. And then everything fell into place.

It had worked! Gods, he was back! The former commander looked around the room, ecstasy apparent in his eyes. Red, crimson eyes. Those very same eyes looked down to the ground, and there he saw Celena lying on the floor. Quickly he leaned down but fell on his knees, too weak to support himself. The girl was on her back, unconscious. A small red circle of blood was forming on her stomach. Dilandau quickly ripped the dress from the bodice down (it wasn't as if there was anything there he hadn't seen before) and took a look at the wound. A long gash reached across the spot precisely where Celena's uterus was. Dilandau snorted.

His mother was a 15-year-old girl who had the mentality of a 5-year-old. Figures.

Dilandau reached out to touch the wound, praying to the gods that it wasn't fatal. As his fingers touched the gash Dilandau felt a great surge of pain in his gut. He clutched a hand to his stomach. Interesting. He knew that his soul and Celena's would be linked for all time since when he was "birthed" he had taken half of hers. He knew that if Celena were to die, he would kick the bucket as well. But he hadn't known that he would be able to feel her physical pain as well. Dilandau hoped it was only temporary.

Quickly he grabbed his undershirt from the bed and tore it into long strips and wrapped it around Celena's midsection, grimacing as he felt the discomfort of the bandages. The cut wasn't deep (which surprised him) and Celena should heal from it in no time.

Once he had finished tending to Celena, Dilandau decided it was time to get dressed. He stood up and slipped his boxers and pants on quickly and then pulled on his metal boots. He felt the familiar weight on his feet and grinned. He tugged on his jacket and snapped his on his overskirt, but he didn't bother buttoning it. He then fastened his armored shoulder guards on, feeling the heaviness of the metal that made his shoulders want to slump forward. Dilandau grinned, standing straight and tall. He slipped on his armored gloves. Gods, he felt glorious. Now, now it was time for the mirror. Slowly he turned, feeling his pride and beauty bursting from him. He walked over, listening to the click of his boots. Then he looked in the mirror.

Dilandau gasped. There was his silver hair, shining and his bangs curling perfectly at the ends. There were his garnet eyes, glowing with fire and defined so wonderfully by thick lashes. There were his smiling lips and perfect teeth. There was his alabaster skin, perfectly translucent and rare. And there was The Scar. Dilandau frowned. He raised a hand and stroked the marred cheek.

Oh Van, you are going to get yours. I'm back, and I'm going to make you pay for everything you've done to me.

Dilandau turned and walked back to Celena. He bent down and picked her up, wrapping her arms around his neck. With one arm he slipped his dog tags from her neck and put them around his own. He'd never taken them off. Dilandau was dismayed to find that he was having a hard time carrying her. The separation had taken most of his strength away.

Which only meant that he was going have to work a little harder and a lot quicker.

The albino boy turned around and walked over to Allen's sword rack. He let Celena's feet drop to the floor and snatched his sword away from the late Knight's own blades. Using some inventive maneuvering he fastened the sword around his waist. He then unsheathed the blade. He was surprised to see that Allen had taken care of the sword in-Dilandau smiled-his "absence." A thought crossed his mind. Dilandau used his teeth and took his glove off his left hand. He then quickly swiped at the blade with his bare hand, making a small shallow cut across his palm. Celena whimpered. Dilandau took her same hand (the unbandaged one) and pressed the center of the girl's hand. She cried out in pain.

What you do to one side you must do to the other.

Dilandau raised his cut hand to his lips and lapped at the wound with his tongue. Fantastic! The blood tasted just like his own. He sucked the wound dry and then put his glove back on, sheathing his sword as well. He then picked Celena up again and walked to the door.

Dilandau took a deep breath. This was going to be classic.

"Van!" he screamed in the highest pitch he could manage.

The door burst open.

~*~

..I wish for Celena…

"Van!" Celena's scream stopped him in mid-wish. Immediately Van grabbed the doorknob and burst through the door.

"Cele-Dilandau!"

Van skidded to a halt. In front of him stood Dilandau Albatou and in his arms was Celena. The Zaibach soldier's red eyes were full of masochistic delight. Shit.

"Hello Van," Dilandau said gaily. He lifted Celena and extended the girl out to him. Van reflexively reached out and grabbed Celena as quickly as he could. The minute she was in his arms he held her close to him, trying to protect her from Dilandau. Though, the other boy didn't seem to interested, for the minute Celena was out of his arms Dilandau stepped passed him so quickly that Van didn't even see it coming at first. However he turned swiftly, following Dilandau's every move.

"How did you…how are you…" Van whispered, regaining some of his wits. Dilandau didn't answer but cocked his head to the side and put his hands on his hips so that his jacket was pushed back and his bare stomach showed through. Van scowled. The bastard was flaunting the fact that Van couldn't do a thing to him. Van knew Dilandau could cut him down right now if he chose to do so, but he couldn't even touch him.

Dilandau motioned to Celena. "She'll heal shortly. Lay her down and dress her wound...Oh, and keep your paws to yourself."

Van felt his eyes widen with rage, but he looked down to Celena. The top of her dress was ripped and around her lower waist was a lavender cloth. A thin line of blood spotted the bandage. That bastard.

"What did you do to her!" Van shouted, looking up with an animal-like ferocity in his eyes. However, he was speaking to thin air. Dilandau was gone.

"Damn."

Van cleared his mind of the "how's and why's" of the situation and tried to think logically. Dilandau was running around wild and free (the emphasis on the wild) and the monster's better half was lying in his arms, unconscious and wounded. Van decided he would take care of latter first, and then-he sighed-he would go capture the psychopath.

The black-haired boy walked briskly down to Celena's room and for what seemed to be the millionth time that day, laid the girl down in her bed. Quickly he unwrapped Dilandau's bandaging job (which, he begrudgingly noticed, was pretty good) and cleaned the wound with hot soap and water. Finally he wrapped it again with clean gauze and dressed Celena in a nightgown. Van's face was as red as a tomato the entire time, but he was very professional about the whole mess.

As he rolled the covers up to Celena's chin, Van let his hand wander up to cup her cheek and run over her mouth. He didn't know what to think, what to do, or what to even feel anymore. He knew he felt something for Celena. Something…Van shrugged his shoulders tiredly. Gently he leaned down and brushed his lips against Celena's, feeling a buzz run through his body. Then he stood up and walked to the washroom.

Van sighed as he washed his hands off in the washbasin. It was time for the hard stuff. He had to go find Dilandau, capture him, and drag the idiot back to the Schezar Manor. The problem was that 1) He didn't know where Dilandau was, 2) He didn't know how he'd capture him, and 3) Dilandau was no idiot.

Well, Van thought, we'll start with problem Number One. If I were Dilandau, where would I go? Probably to the first Insane Asylum I passed and turned myself in.

Ugh.

This was going to be tough.

~*~

Dilandau smiled as the bartender poured his drink with a shaky hand. Good man. Dilandau had felt the shock, fear and (most importantly) the hatred of the tavern's customers the minute he had walked though the door. He took a swig of the bitter alcohol. What? A young boy in the uniform of a high-ranking officer in the Zaibach Army had just walked in late at night and ordered a drink? Didn't he know that Zaibachians weren't welcomed in Asturia?

Well, of course he did. But Dilandau didn't give a damn.

A few intelligent individuals had recognized him immediately and had left the bar quicker then you could say "Dilandau Albatou." Unfortunately, there were some ignorant, arrogant drunken bastards who didn't leave and Dilandau could sense how the ungainly lot itched to fight. Perfect.

Dilandau just hoped it didn't take too long. Van was undoubtedly on the trail he had left for the boy to find. He knew the reluctantly chivalrous king would pursue him to the end of the world to get back at what he thought Dilandau had done to Celena (and beloved Fanelia as well). Besides, he certainly couldn't have that monster running around, could he?

The soldier laughed and ordered another drink from the trembling bartender. As the man poured the alcohol Dilandau felt the feeling in the room change and he heard the approaching footsteps of drunken fools. The barkeeper backed down to help another customer.

So, the bastards had pulled together their measly courage.

Dilandau tensed. He waited for one second, and then another. Then he heard it: the sound of a dagger being unsheathed. He waited one more moment to give the man time to raise the dagger, aim it, and finally throw it. Dilandau then immediately jumped to the left and then up onto the counter, spinning around to face his attackers. He felt a little unbalanced, still very weak from the separation and he wasn't quite yet used to the extra 50 pounds the armor added to his frame. But his face showed none of this; it only smirked as the dagger went sailing past, shattering a couple of bottles.

"Attacking from behind, that's not very nice, is it? Such cowardice makes me angry," Dilandau said, looking down at the six startled faces. "Tsk, tsk. There is a fine line between bravery and stupidity. Obviously you louts don't see the difference."

"Better watch your tongue, kid," One of the men said. Dilandau raised a sterling eyebrow and said nothing. Silently, stealthily, he drew together his diminished strength. This would truly be a test of his ability-fighting six men while (for all intensive purposes) seriously weakened and injured.

"We're not going to let some upstart Zaibach albino freak insult us," said another man with along scar running across his forehead and left eye.

"Freak?" Dilandau whispered softly, "Well then, lets see how you six morons do against this 'freak.'"

The men rumbled their indignations at Dilandau's comment, and slowly withdrew their swords. Dilandau was impressed to see that the men weren't stupid enough to go one-on-one with him. They were going to rush him in groups. Perhaps all six at once.

Delightful. Dilandau could have cheered.

With a very drunken war cry, three men rushed forward. The first one flung himself at Dilandau's chest while the other two scrambled to either side of him. Dilandau merely dodged the first man, sending him flying into the vast array of bottles and back counters. He was knocked unconscious immediately. Dumb shit. Dilandau took no notice. He quickly unsheathed his sword and swiped at the man on his left, feinting a low blow, which the halfwit fell for and Dilandau swiftly swung up, relieving the man of his head. He then turned and blocked the swinging blade of the man behind him. Dilandau pushed fiercely at the other man, throwing him backwards. The opponent squared his feet, thinking Dilandau was going to wait until he attacked again. Surprise, surprise, Dilandau chose this time to go on the offensive and after throwing the man off, simply continued with his momentum and ran the other man through before he even had a chance to blink.

Dilandau turned, spinning on the countertop to face the remaining four drunkards. He was breathing heavily, and sweating more then he should have. Damn it. He leapt down off of the counter to meet the charging band of morons. With flourish, he sliced through the front man who had decided to charge with his sword above his head, leaving his stomach wide open. Dilandau then spun, killing the man who had rushed him from behind. He turned again, his blade clashing with one more would-be assassin who was probably the most sober of the bunch. He would give him trouble.

"You're weak, boy," said the man. His face was hard and grizzled but Dilandau could tell that once he had been a softer looking man. And he realized the man wasn't drunk at all. "I would have expected Dilandau Albatou to have more strength."

"And I would have expected a man who knew my identity to not have so much stupidity as to stay and fight me," Dilandau said, his red eyes blazing. He gave a last shove and ducked as low as he could and swiped the man's feet out from under him. He then stood up and with a swish of his sword, knocked the blade out of the fallen man's hand.

"So, you thought that you could simply waltz up to me, insult me, and then try to kill me and get away with it? What kind of dream-world are you living in?" Dilandau asked exasperatedly. The nerve of some people.

"I had to at least try. You stood by and let my son be killed," the man said, looking up at Dilandau with-could it be?-tears in his eyes.

Dilandau raised an eyebrow at this new development. "I think you had too much to drink. There is no reason on this planet that I should have ever helped some Asturian half-wit."

"My son's name was Dalet. Dalet Harliel," The man said, his tone accusing.

Dilandau stiffened visibly, and an old familiar ache pulsed in his heart. Now his morality was going to be called into question. It was a good thing he didn't have any.

"Ah, so you're the bastard that had beat him black and blue when I found him in the gutter. What an interesting way of showing your affection," Dilandau said, his words dripping in poison.

"I loved him, he was my son!" The man pleaded.

"And isn't it sad that I loved him more then you ever could," Dilandau whispered. He then flicked his wrist and Dalet's father was silenced forever.

He stood over the dead man for a minute, catching his breath and banishing all thoughts of poor Dalet. Then Dilandau decided it was time for a drink. He turned purposefully, sheathed his sword, and went to the bar and grabbed his previously ordered drink with a shaking hand. Dilandau smiled. The alcohol had mixed with the raining blood of his slain attackers. The soldier cackled and tossed it down.

Dilandau had reclaimed his edge.

~*~

Van shook his head, standing in the doorway of the pub. He was going to have intervened in the death of the last man Dilandau had slaughtered, but he had paused for a moment too long, hearing the maniac's utterance of "love" for Dalet. And for that pause, another death was now on his hands. Shit. Nothing was going right anymore.

"So, whoever knew a monster could love?" Van said, unsheathing his sword and walking slowly towards the turned back of Dilandau Albatou. The maniac (that was how Van always thought of him) acted as if he hadn't heard him.

"Hello Van. What happened, you missed me?" Dilandau said in a singsong voice. He spun around on his heel, leaning against the bar. He looked like a satisfied cat.

"I have to take you back," Van said, not wasting anytime on preliminaries.

Dilandau rubbed the hilt of his sword. "Why?"

Van opened his mouth to say something, but then realized he didn't know exactly why he had to take Dilandau back. Why in the hell couldn't he just kill the maniac here and be done with it? He didn't know the answer to that either. Van decided to stop asking questions he couldn't answer and scramble for a logical response.

"I can't have you running around killing people," Van said, motioning to the many dead bodies in the abandoned bar.

"I could say the same of you," Dilandau replied darkly. He withdrew his sword. Van groaned inwardly. He had never forgiven himself for killing those boys even if it was his life or theirs. Dilandau apparently wasn't about to either.

"Well then, let's get this mess over with, shall we?" Van asked, raising his sword.

"Aren't you in a hurry to die? Well, I suppose I'll be generous and grant you this last request," Dilandau replied. He withdrew his sword and stood up. Slowly the two warriors began circling each other. Van's eyes were determined; Dilandau's were delighted.

Until he fell to the ground.

Suddenly, without any warning at all, Dilandau moaned loudly and dropped his sword to the ground. Van froze on the spot, not knowing what to make of it. The albino's hands flew to his stomach, and then his arms wrapped around his waist and he fell to the ground, his armor ringing as it hit the floor. He moaned again, and then lay quiet on his side, breathing heavily. Van straightened up and came a little closer to the fallen maniac.

"What the…" He breathed.

"Celena. Something's wrong with Cel-" Dilandau's explanation was cut off as he gasped sharply, and then his large red eyes closed and he slipped into oblivion.

Van, being no fool, stepped up to Dilandau with extreme caution. His last words had frightened him, but the black-haired boy knew that it could be a trick. Slowly he bent down, his sword raised, and poked Dilandau with the toe of his boot like someone would a downed animal. The armored boy made no sound or movement. Van rolled him over with his foot. Still nothing.

"What a coward. Fainting at the fact that you had to fight Van Fanel, eh?" Van said, knowing that that would certainly get a rise out of him if nothing else. When Dilandau still made no acknowledgement, Van sheathed his sword (satisfied with the proof of Dilandau's unconscious state) and then picked up the boy in his arms. And then he almost fell over himself. Reminding himself of Dilandau's last words, Van quickly set the albino down and hastily removed his jacket and overskirt to get rid of the extra weight of the armor. He also relieved the unconscious boy of his sword as well, mumbling at the insanity of not killing bastard. Van then picked Dilandau up once more and (just to be on the safe side) decided to not sling the boy over his back for fear the maniac still was faking and had a dagger to stick in his back.

Then Van all but ran to where his horse was standing outside the bar. He heaved Dilandau up onto the creature so that the soldier was in front of the saddle. He then jumped on to the beast himself and pulled Dilandau up into a sitting position (that is until he fell back against Van's chest). The Fanelian boy swore darkly and grabbed the reins. He kicked the horse's sides with an added urgency and reluctantly wrapped an arm around Dilandau's waist to keep him from falling off.

"You," Van said into the ear of his unconscious enemy, "Are more trouble then you are worth."

Then why couldn't he leave him?

Dilandau would say because he was weak.

Van didn't know what to say.

Halfway through the ride, his mind worried on Celena and the absurdity of his and Dilandau's position, Van checked the maniac's pulse.

There wasn't one.

~*~

A/N: Bwahahaha! I am so incredibly evil! And I revel in it! I have also decided that Zelgadis (from "The Slayers"…only one more tape to go!) is so damn hot I can hardly restrain myself from licking the TV screen whenever he comes on.

Dilandau: What are you talking about? He's only a third human and he has scaly-rock things on his face! And his skin's a weird color! And his ears are pointy!

rainjewel: I love his ears! What's your point?

Dilandau: He's so weird.

rainjewel: Uh-huh. This coming from the gender-bending albino pyromaniac psycho.

Folken: But I thought you loved me! *sulks*

rainjewel: I love you the most! I just happen to love Zelly-babe too.

Zelgadis: Oh dear god, please tell me that's not my nickname.

Folken: It's better then "Folkie-poo." Stop bitching.

rainjewel: Oh Folkie-poo, Zelly-babe, come here! *Starry eyes*

Folken and Zelgadis: *sweatdrop*

To be continued…

~*~