Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ Behind Enemy Lines ❯ Crash and Burn ( Chapter 8 )

Behind Enemy Lines

By: rainjewel

Chapter Eight: Crash and Burn

A/N: A warning to you all, this is going to be disturbing! Please do not complain to me about my sick mind, for I told you that this was going to be a twisted little tale. *evil laughter is heard* Have fun!

"If you need fall apart

I can mend a broken heart

If you need to crash then crash and burn

You're not alone."

- Savage Garden (Darren Hayes and Daniel Jones)

~*~

Dilandau was becoming a professional at this fake-love game. Pulling the heartstrings of whomever he chose was becoming as easy as picking up a sword. He could make anyone fall in love-or at least in "like," whatever the hell that meant-with him (provided they didn't know about his previous…actions). Now he was beginning to understand why Allen did it so often. Dilandau bet he could beat the knight at his own game.

Even if it was a bit harder for him to keep it up then it had been for Sleeve-boy.

Even if it was more taxing on his stamina and acting skills.

Even if it was Van.

Yesterday, he had fallen back on his "love game" and had, for the small price of some of his delicious kisses, won over Van completely. He had choked back that tantalizing emotional concoction of fear and lust, and had simply become the soldier doing what was needed to achieve his prize.

The prize was the death of the Madoushi.

And all he had to do was open the door to his old-killing-stomping grounds.

Dilandau turned. "Well, my dearest Fanelian king, just stay by my side and let me work. Do not get in the way. Do not get sentimental. Do not do anything. But do remind me again, why are you allowing me this rampage?"

"These people killed my brother. I feel no need to protect them, for they are not innocent," Van said darkly. "Where are we going, exactly?" He looked up at the tall steps that led to the Capitol building. It was the place where Emperor Dornkirk had resided; it was the ground that had been bathed in his brother's blood.

"We are going to the headquarters of the Madoushi. This is where I spent the first six years of my life, if you can call it that," Dilandau replied. This is where monsters are created. Welcome to the lab from hell.

Dilandau braced himself. This was going to bring back a lot of pain.

Van pushed the door open.

"Let's go," he said. Dilandau nodded, for once thankful of Van's sensitivity.

Dilandau pushed through, going straight for the lab. He would have to do this stealthily and quietly if he were going to get what he wanted. If the guard were alerted, then the entire Zaibach army would be upon him. Which could really put a crimp in his style.

As he was running/crouching down the halls (Can't be spotted, can't let anyone see. There's a monster on the loose, and guess what…it's me!), Dilandau passed by the glass-encompassed garden where he had spent his time when he had reverted to Celena. He stopped dead in his tracks when he had seen it, staring at the glass with a fury that even dazzled him. Fury at the pain he felt.

Van stopped, not understanding.

"This is Celena's garden," Dilandau said, offering nothing more. Van put a hesitant hand on Dilandau's shoulder. He shrugged it off and began moving once more. "On the other side of that wall is the outside training fields. It all begins here."

"Guard," Van whispered. Dilandau held up his hand to shush him, then simply stepped out in front of the soldier.

"Remember me?" he asked brightly. The guard's face blanched and then Dilandau's blade flashed through the air, and the soldier's head was gone. Simple as that.

Dilandau kept moving, his eyes scanning for any obstacles he had to get rid of. Van stayed close by his side. He could tell the boy was repulsed by Dilandau's lack of respect for the "value of human life," but he said nothing.

Pigeon, you shouldn't compromise your morals for people you care about. Tell me that I'm wrong…give me an excuse to hate you.

After another two minutes, five guards, and seven tunnels, Dilandau had come to the main door of the lab. He turned to Van.

"Everyone should be in here. I announced throughout the capitol that there was to be a meeting ordered by Emperor Adelphos for all the Madoushi in the main lab. There will be perhaps twenty or more. If you would like to help, feel free. I have only one rule: Do not kill the bald man with a large nose and glasses. I get him."

Van nodded, looking rather green. "I'll watch your back."

"Actually, you could do me a favor without killing anyone. This lab is in the shape of one big circle. Their are four other doors besides this one, if I remember correctly. Follow this hallway and lock them," Dilandau said.

"Watch yourself," Van warned. Dilandau lifted an eyebrow, then watched Van run off down the hallway. He then threw open the doors to greet twenty-plus geniuses standing in full black leather.

"Why hello, gentlemen!" he said coldly, locking the door behind him. "You're wonderful lab rat has returned to you! Do you remember me? I'm what happens when experiments go horribly wrong."

Every single head turned, staring at him. Though probably all of them had extremely high IQ's, all looked completely baffled. Dilandau continued his rant, walking around the grouped men. They stood in a cluster in the middle of the room, which had been thoughtfully cleared for Adelphos' "meeting."

"So, you thought I was failure. You thought that I could actually fail at something? Are you all mad?" Dilandau gave an insane laugh, just to make the scene ironic. His body sang for blood. "You, who after endless poking and prodding, after thousands of lies and buckets of pain, thought that I could be so easily defeated? Well, my sick and twisted parents, behold your creation! And I even had the decency to come back improved. Ah yes, I have separated from the darling Celena Schezar. I am fully the monster you made."

"Dilandau…Albatou?"

"You're alive?"

"How did he know?"

"How could he not?"

The Madoushi had finally found their voices, and little blurbs of meaningless babble floated through the room. Dilandau locked his eyes on the bald man and winked.

"Sweet Mother of Gaea!" one man said, realizing Dilandau's intentions.

"Yes," Dilandau finally said, his tone as lethal as Death itself, "Sweet Mother of Gaea is right! I have returned to my creators, now it's time to return to yours!"

Dilandau then charged forward and flung himself into the sea of black leather. The sorcerers frantically scattered, grabbing their ceremonial swords and daggers as the slower ones were cut down by Dilandau's vengeful blade. Van was nowhere to be seen, but his work showed through clearly; all the doors were locked.

"Sound the alarms!" cried one man. Dilandau twirled, sending two of the braver men who actually attempted to fight flying through the air, both with fatal wounds. He walked calmly over to the screaming sorcerer.

"Too late," he said, then relieved the man of his head. Decapitation was so boring…Actually, Dilandau thought, striking down another man, this entire thing is rather boring. Which was true (for Dilandau). There was no one to fight that had his caliber. Still, the relief he felt was immense.

Before too long, Dilandau had killed almost every single man. All that remained were the troublesome ones and Zlain, the bald one with glasses. They lurked in the cluttered test tubes and vials that had been shoved aside for the nonexistent meeting. He relaxed.

"All right, even I can have a little mercy," Dilandau said, leaning on his sword, pretending not to see the hiding sorcerers. "If all of you turn over Zlain, I will spare your lives. Simply surrender and hand over everyone's favorite bespectacled fuckhead, and life is good."

Immediately, the five remaining men stood up, two had hold of the balding pig. Dilandau grinned as the sorcerers stepped up to him.

"You made me," he said softly, "You of all people should know that I show no mercy." He then cut them all down as they tried to flee. Only one blocked his blows, and he lasted a good .03 seconds.

Zlain remained untouched. He rose before Dilandau, a huge and intimidating figure of black leather. At least to most people he was. Dilandau had had a rather large and supposedly intimidating ex-Madoushi commander for a good part of his life, so he wasn't too worried. Then again, Folken was nothing compared to this immoral bastard.

"So you've returned to me," Zlain said in his horrid, snake-like voice. He had barely finished his words when Dilandau's fist flew out and connected with his jaw.

"I've returned to torture you, you sick sonofabitch," Dilandau said.

"Dilandau!" came Van's voice. "My god!"

So, Van has come to check out the carnage. Are you to be my angel of death?

Dilandau grinned. "Over here, Pigeon. We've got a pig to tie down."

Zlain rubbed his jaw and looked at Van with wide eyes. "You wouldn't…"

"There's nothing I won't do. I'm not drugged, nor am I bound," Dilandau said, acid dripping. He stuck his sword to Zlain's neck. "Let's go."

"Where, your room or mine?" Zlain said. Dilandau increased the pressure on his blade, cutting the throat of the sorcerer slightly so that blood ran down his chest.

"I've never been a patient person Zlain, don't push it," Dilandau said. Van stepped up beside him.

"What's going on?" he asked. Dilandau trembled with his power.

"This is Zlain. We have a little chat in store for us," he replied. Dilandau reached up and hit the side of the man's head, making him fall down to his knees in a daze. He reached down and grabbed Zlain's collar and, with Van's help, dragged the man out the door, down the hall, and into a room that almost made Dilandau fall to his knees.

"Gods," Van breathed.

"Welcome to my delivery room," Dilandau whispered. In the center of the room was an operating table with restraints for the feet, hands and torso. "Let's strap this bastard in."

Together Van and Dilandau lifted the dazed Zlain onto the table. As Dilandau expertly strapped the sorcerer in, he saw the wholly disgusted expression on Van's face.

"Why don't you go and keep watch outside," Dilandau said. Van looked up in alarm, and Dilandau grinned. "No one has to watch over me. They never have, they never will."

"I beg to differ," Van said.

"I will do this alone," Dilandau replied. Van nodded and left swiftly. So accommodating, that boy.

"Please, I-" Zlain began. Dilandau cuffed him over the head.

"I didn't tell you to speak," he said. Slowly he circled the table, tapping his bloodied sword on the floor. "Turnabout is fair play. Are you comfortable? Aren't those straps nice? They make the victim, I mean, the 'patient' totally vulnerable and helpless. But you know that, don't you?"

Dilandau stopped at the base of the table. He pulled the boots off of the sorcerer. The stench of foot odor rose through the air. "Don't you?" With a flick of his wrist, he sliced a deep cut through the top of the foot.

Zlain moaned. "Now, I know you're only capable of extreme rage, Dilandau, but-"

"What do you mean, I'm only capable of extreme rage?" Dilandau cut in, his voice high with anger.

"You're only capable of extreme emotions. We gave you permanent chemical imbalances and a higher amount of adrenaline," Zlain explained. Dilandau stopped his pacing and crouched on a chair, an alabaster gargoyle. "Think about it, you only feel the most extreme of any emotion. You feel extreme anger and hatred. You have an extreme need to be loved by someone, you have an extreme dependency."

"I depend on no one!" Dilandau said. He sliced the other foot, taking a few toes with it. Zlain whimpered.

"You are susceptible to extreme fear, sadness, happiness, even love. That's why you had to have such perfect training to beat down those emotions. You are epitome of extreme," Zlain said. He was trying to buy his life by telling Dilandau about his.

"What in the hell possessed you to do that? You simply told me how I could feel?" Dilandau hissed. He refused to come down from his perch atop the chair.

"It was for your own good. It made you a better soldier," Zlain said. A faint glimmer of hope was in his words.

"Fuck that. It was to make yourselves feel more powerful. Tell me Zlain, did you feel like a god then? When you made me? Or was it when you broke me?" Dilandau asked poisonously.

"We felt like your parents. You were the most successful of all our children," Zlain said with false compassion.

"You raped your child! What kind of sick mother does that?" Dilandau screamed. Now he jumped off his chair, his sword pressed to Zlain's neck. "How in the hell does that help your 'beautiful creation?'"

His cry alerted Van, who came running in the room. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine! I'm perfectly fine! I can fight back now, Zlain, and you'll never, ever be able to get at me again. I have corrected all the mistakes you bastards have made. All the damage you caused will be undone, you bald fuckhead," Dilandau ranted. He raised his sword.

"Don't, you've done enough," Van interrupted. Dilandau turned to him.

"I will never have done enough! Zlain," Dilandau thrust his face in his captive's, "all you've ever done is made me feel extreme pain. Paybacks are a bitch."

With that, Dilandau slammed the tip of his sword through the man's throat. Zlain gagged, and his eyes grew wide.

"Die, you bastard. Go and wait for me in hell!" Dilandau yelled furiously. He wrenched the blade from Zlain's throat and began stabbing ferociously at the dying sorcerer. The relief, the freedom he was supposed to feel with this liberation wasn't coming.

"Stop!" Van yelled. He grabbed Dilandau from behind, stopping him in mid-swing. He shook the albino's arm violently, causing him to drop the blade. "He's gone!"

"Let me go! You don't understand, you'll never understand! With him this nightmare dies!" Dilandau screamed. He burst from Van's grasp and began pummeling the body with his bare fists. "Fuck you, you sick leech."

"Calm down! We have got to get out of here!" Van said. He reached out and wrapped his arms around Dilandau. "Gods, what in the hell is wrong with you?"

Dilandau strained against Van, but it was to no avail. "This monster…this is the true monster," he said, trying to make the Fanelian boy understand. Then he screamed in utter frustration, and that's when the damn broke, and tears began flowing down his cheeks. He didn't even feel them.

Van exasperatedly scooped up Dilandau's legs, and with much effort, fled from the capitol of the Zaibach Empire. Halfway through his flight, Dilandau passed out from exhaustion, leaving Van with a fearful heart and a confused mind.

~*~

Dilandau had lost all of his senses. He could feel the cold metal beneath him, and the hard, biting leather of the restraints. But, for the moment, he knew what neither was.

He looked around, trying to place the room. However, his vision was blurry and all he could make out was the bright, shining light above him. Other than that he was alone in the darkness.

Alone.

"Chesta?" he whispered feebly, his tongue rolling around in his mouth like a piece of meat. "Gatti?"

He almost said Migel, but then he remembered that that particular soldier was dead.

And then he remembered that the rest of his Dragonslayers were as well. So Dilandau dealt with it accordingly.

His screams rang out in the cold room like those of a dying animal.

Somewhere, in-between one cry and the next, he heard the refreshing whoosh of the door. At first Dilandau thought it was a breeze, that he was on a battlefield, but his befuddled mind finally placed the sound. He listened to the footsteps.

"Chesta? Gatti? Dalet?" He mumbled habitually. A dark, creaking figure blocked half of his light. He tried to raise his hand to shield his eyes, but something was holding it down. The thing looked like the Strategos in his robes.

"Folken, they're dead," Dilandau said miserably. His voice was no more then a whisper.

The thing spoke. "I'm not Folken. My name is Zlain."

Dilandau could not comprehend that. Of course it was Folken, who else marched around in those stupid black capes? Who would be by his side on the Vione after losing such a promising bunch of young soldiers?

"You're on the floating fortress Korishi of the Madoushi," the thing continued. Dilandau shut his eyes. Seeing and hearing things at the same time was an overload to him. He felt so tired.

"I can't move," Dilandau managed to say. It was beginning to become hard to speak as well. He felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"That's okay," said the man, who Dilandau was beginning to recognize as Zlain. He pressed his hand to the boy's fevered forehead. "You are a pretty thing, aren't you?"

Dilandau wished to be rid of the man's touch. "Stop that," he ordered. In his drugged state, he connected the feeling of human hands with needles and pain.

Zlain's glasses caught the light and the radiance flashed through even Dilandau's closed eyelids. Then the darkness grew even darker, and the boy opened his eyes, searching for understanding.

Floating right above his head was the blurred image of the thing's face. Dilandau could make out small eyes, a rather large nose, and circular glasses. The light backlit the pale monstrosity of Zlain's features, and he looked utterly terrifying. Dilandau began to hyperventilate, his heart ill at ease.

"Hush, my beautiful creation, it's all right," he heard Zlain whisper. Dilandau wanted to cry out that it wasn't all right, it wasn't right at all, but there was something in his mouth. It was wet and sticky, and it rolled around across his teeth and tongue like a dying snake. Dilandau, not knowing what else to do, bit down on it.

"YAH!" yelled the black-robed man. Dilandau cowered, expecting a barrage of needles and knives any minute. "You bit my tongue!"

Tongue? Dilandau fought to understand what a tongue was. Then it came to him. Zlain's tongue had just been in his mouth?

And that's when his situation began to become clear to him.

"Help me!" Dilandau screamed, utterly terrified for the first time in his life. "Chesta, Gatti, help me!" He yearned to call another name, the name of a man that could help him, but he couldn't quite remember what it was. "Viole, Dalet, don't leave me here with him!"

Alas, dead men cannot help the living.

"Oh, my pretty thing, my beautiful creation, don't scream. No one can hear you anyway, not from this room. You're all alone, completely alone," Zlain said.

"Gods," Dilandau said, ceasing his screaming. He began to shake uncontrollably, and he pulled weakly against his restraints. Tears leaked from his ruby eyes, and Zlain filthily kissed them away.

And then he felt the foreign hands on his shoulders, his chest, and his stomach. They raced along every outline of his lithe muscles; felt the trembling ivory skin. To Dilandau, this hurt more then any of the needles, scalpels, and chemicals put together.

"So smooth, this skin. It truly is superb," whispered Zlain between his kisses. Dilandau wrenched his head from side to side, trying to escape the snake's lips and bleeding tongue. Another name occurred to Dilandau's sluggish brain.

"Folken! You're never around when I need you!" Dilandau cried, one of his more coherent screams. Zlain's hands slid underneath the waistband of Dilandau's pants, and the albino screamed louder then he thought was humanly possible. What the hell was this about?

"Hush. That barbaric Fanelian will be coming shortly to collect you, damn it all," Zlain said, his hands sliding through the thin fabric of Dilandau's boxers, "So we'll make this short. I won't be able to have my usual fun, but you will. I'll even let you remember this meeting of ours, since I haven't let you recall the other two."

Dilandau shut his eyes as he felt Zlain's cold hand curl around his length. No one in his life had ever, ever touched him this way. As the fingers slid down to cup his balls, he shuddered violently.

"Go away," he said weakly. He tried to rise, but found it impossible. What was holding him down?

Zlain bent over him, his fingers moving rapidly up and down Dilandau's cock until it was hard and erect as a soldier. "Imagine, I have Dilandau Albatou by the balls."

All Dilandau could manage was a whimper. He ground his teeth together, feeling his drugged state slipping and his coherency becoming more and more apparent. He prayed for his previous weakened confusion. As a strange pressure began to build in his loins, shame and fear washed over him. Sweat broke out across his body.

"No, stop!" he whispered, his breaths coming in gasps as Zlain's able fingers continued their work. Unable to stop himself, he rose and fell with the motion of Zlain's hands. Suddenly a mind-blowing sensation overcame him and his hips jerked violently. Dilandau half-heard himself moan.

"Good boy," Zlain said, whispering in Dilandau's ear as the boy came into his hands. Dilandau collapsed against the metal table, scared of what was going to happen next, but knowing that it wasn't good. Zlain raised his sticky hand to his face and began licking his fingers one by one.

Dilandau shut his eyes and began to cry; though this time he was silent. He cried for how easily he had been defeated.

"You taste superb, child," Zlain said. Dilandau felt kisses once again on his neck. He imagined a huge black bat swooping in and devouring him whole. He couldn't take anymore of this. He tilted his head and bit his teeth deep into the flesh of Zlain's ear. The sorcerer wrenched away, screaming this time instead of Dilandau.

"Don't touch me!" Dilandau yelled at the pained Madoushi. Zlain clasped a hand to his ear, holding the bleeding cartilage. Blood ran from Dilandau's lips and he spat out of the little piece of earlobe he'd managed to bite off.

"You are quite a terror," Zlain said. "I'll make you pay for that, my beautiful creation." Dilandau saw the monster's hands going once again to his nether regions and he screamed louder then he ever had in his entire life. He couldn't take it again.

"So this is where Dilandau is," came a deep and resonating voice. Zlain stood up as straight as a post. Dilandau closed his eyes against the sudden shine of light from the doorway.

"Ah…Folken! Yes, this is where we have been keeping him," Zlain stammered, bringing his cloak up to his ears to hide the wound. Dilandau opened his eyes, disregarding the pain of the light.

"Folken! Get me out of here!" he screamed to the tall, pale man. Folken looked stunned.

"Why is he still tied down? I was informed that he was prepared to leave today. I see that he is not," the Strategos said. Zlain blubbered about for an explanation. Folken's patience thinned. "Untie him at once."

"Yes Strategos," said the sorcerer. Zlain bent down and began undoing the bonds that held Dilandau. Upon seeing the man's face so close to his again, feeling his hands as he undid the leather fastenings, Dilandau flinched and trembled violently.

"Get away from me! Don't touch me!" Dilandau screamed, straining to be as far away from the bald man as he could. Zlain undid the last bond across his torso, and Dilandau sprung up from the table like lightening. The drugs were still coursing through his system, and he collapsed as soon as feet hit the floor. Folken, to his credit, reached out and caught Dilandau as he fell. However, Dilandau would rather die then be touched by anyone else at the moment, and fought furiously-vainly-to get out of Folken's grasp.

Zlain came forward. "We could keep him a little longer until he calmed down."

"Folken! Don't you dare let him come any closer! Stay away, you bastard!" Dilandau screamed, ceasing his struggling against Folken, but rather pressing himself against the Strategos' dark cloak. His head spun and if it hadn't been for Folken's iron (literally) grip on his shoulder, Dilandau would probably have fallen to the ground.

"Zlain please, keep your distance. It's obviously disconcerting to him," Folken said, his brows knitted. Dilandau flailed around some more, mumbling incoherently about his terror. Folken sighed and unsheathed the needle in his artificial forefinger. Quickly he injected the captain with a heavy sedative. After a few seconds, Dilandau became still and slumped to the ground. His hold on Folken's cloak, however, still remained.

Zlain's face was furious. "What did you do? Do you have any idea what kind of reaction that might have with the chemicals that are still coursing through his system?"

Folken's face remained impassive.

"I don't know what exactly transpired in here, but if I ever hear of Dilandau being this irate and upset in your care, then I will stop this demonic science of yours in a heartbeat. This boy may have been manufactured to be a killer, but he's still a human boy, and he shall be treated as such," Folken said. He bent over and picked the limp Dilandau up in his arms. "I will deliver him to his new post myself. I suggest you leave immediately."

The shorter man opened his mouth to protest.

"Zlain, don't push it," Folken warned bluntly. A severe expression painted his features.

Zlain's mouth shut at once and the balding man bowed. Zlain then walked grudgingly out the door. Folken turned and followed him out of the room, on his way to deliver Dilandau to another hell.

~*~

After fleeing from the Zaibach capital, Van had made his way back to the camping ground Dilandau and him had occupied for the past couple of days. Occasionally he was forced to stop and retch on the side of the road, thoroughly disgusted with Dilandau's Gorefest and his taking part in it. He had gone against everything he believed in.

Upon his return, he had wrapped Dilandau in a blanket and set him on the ground. Then Van had waited patiently until sundown for the boy to wake up. He had cleaned camp up twice, hunted down some of the forest's fowl and small animals for later meals, and had rubbed down his horse until it shown brighter then the sun itself. Van didn't want to think about the morning. He had been extremely frightened by Dilandau's actions. He had never seen the soldier shed tears and he had never heard him scream so desperately. Van had never seen anyone hold in so much pain.

All the while, Dilandau remained curled in a ball, occasionally moaning in his slumber. His moans were the most sorrowful and haunting sound Van had ever heard in his life.

As the hours dragged on, Van finally built a fire and fell asleep himself. He positioned himself a few feet away from Dilandau, assuming a position where he would be alerted if anyone from Zaibach decided to come after them to avenge the slain Madoushi. Van doubted it; General Adelphos was probably pleased as punch from being released from the rule of the sorcerers.

At exactly 1:37 a.m. (though neither of them would ever know what time it was), Van awakened to Dilandau's screaming.

"Chicken toes!" he exclaimed confusedly, sitting up (hey, it was a really weird dream). He heard another scream and immediately grabbed his sword, thinking that some fierce forest creature was attacking the camp. Van ran to Dilandau's side. The boy's eyes were squeezed shut, but his body flinched as Van neared, as if he could see him coming. The screams continued.

"Dilandau!" Van shouted, trying to shout over the albino's cries, "Wake up! Dilandau!" This was to no avail, so Van bent down and shook the boy roughly.

"Don't touch me!" Dilandau cried. His garnet eyes flew open and he backed up frenziedly, twisting in the folds of his blanket. "Don't come near me!"

Van froze, trying to judge the boy's demeanor. "Dilandau, you were having a nightmare."

"Why can't you just die?!" Dilandau screamed, jumping up from his blanket. In his hand was a dagger.

No, not more of this shit.

Dilandau charged. Van ducked and sent the soldier flying over his back. Dilandau rolled and stood up again, his eyes full of desperation. Van turned to face him, but Dilandau plowed right into him, knocking him to the ground. He felt the cool blade of the dagger press against his throat. His vision was filled with Dilandau's ruby-red gaze.

"Madoushi bastard," the pale boy whispered. Realization hit Van like a ton of bricks.

"Dilandau! It's me, Van!" he yelled. Dilandau blinked.

"Pigeon?" he whispered. The grip he had on Van slipped.

Van nodded (as well as he could without slitting his throat). "Pigeon."

"Oops," Dilandau whispered. He rose, leaving a very stunned Fanelian king on the ground. He brought his dagger to his eye level and looked at it in total wonder. Van jumped up and gently took it from him. He flung the blade far into the forest. Dilandau watched it sail through the air, breathing in ragged gasps.

"What is wrong?" Van asked, rubbing his own neck with one hand and placing the other on Dilandau's shoulder.

"Stop that!" Dilandau shouted, wrenching away fiercely from Van's touch. He wrapped his arms around himself and looked at the dark-haired boy with soft, frightened eyes. "He's dead, isn't he?"

He must mean Zlain.

"Yes. You killed him," Van said. And about twenty others.

"So he's dead," Dilandau whispered.

"That's usually how it works," Van replied with a small grin.

"It's not funny!" Dilandau screamed. He shoved Van fiercely. "It's not funny at all!" He sank down to his knees, clutching his sides. "He's dead. He's dead, he's dead, he's dead!" He chanted softly to himself.

Van stumbled backwards, then righted himself again. He carefully, carefully inched his way to Dilandau, and then sat down beside him.

"Dilandau, calm down. Tell me what's wrong," Van said. He ached to help the younger boy. A terrified Dilandau is a terrible sight. He thought of reaching out to him, but gauging by Dilandau's response last time, he decided against it.

"This is a nightmare," Dilandau whispered.

"No it's not. You said that with Zlain the nightmare died," Van said, recalling Dilandau's wild outburst, his complete hatred towards the man. Now, looking at the reaction Dilandau was having currently, a realization dawned on him. "What did he do to you?" Van whispered darkly, the thought of Dilandau being beaten as a small child flashing through his mind.

Dilandau laid his head down on his bent knees, clutching the sides of his legs ferociously. For a moment there was complete silence; Dilandau was trying to decide on what to do. Finally he spoke, "I…I was drugged for the most part when I underwent Fate Alterations."

"Do you remember any-"

"I'm going to tell you my story. Shut up and feel privileged," Dilandau said, talking into his shaking thighs. Van nodded. "I'll start over. When I was five, I had just come through the first successful Fate Alteration, and Celena Schezar was nonexistent. The sorcerer's told me that my mother hadn't wanted me, and she had turned me over to their care. They explained that I didn't remember any of my previous life because I had become uncontrollable when she had left, and I had suffered a blow to the head by running into a wall. Isn't that believable? Me, ramming myself into a wall until I rendered myself unconscious?"

Van could believe it, but he didn't say anything.

Dilandau continued. "Zlain was one of the main sorcerers who took care of me during my six years of training. He obviously taught me nothing about warfare, that was done by specialized masters, but he was in charge of all the experimentation that was forced upon me. I don't remember any of the tests they put me through. Wait…" Dilandau paused. "…I do remember the pain."

Van remained silent, while Dilandau took a few deep breaths.

"But obviously something wasn't done right, for I reverted back to Celena after the deaths of my Dragonslayers. Zlain was in charge of 'fixing me.' After the Fate Alterations, he…"

Dilandau stopped. Even though his face was hid in his knees, Van could picture the tears that were running down his face. Van scooted closer, but Dilandau held out an arm.

"Don't come near me. Just stay there." He put down his hand. "The last night I was there, he…he raped me. And he told me of the other times he'd done so; I had just been drugged so I couldn't remember. I was chained to that horrid table, and he raped me." Dilandau stopped talking and his only his sobs could be heard. Slowly he crumpled like a broken thing, falling onto his side with his back towards Van. "All alone," he whispered. "Completely and utterly alone."

Van sat on the ground, his body numb. What Dilandau just said had rocked his more innocent take on the world. He had never, ever heard of someone being violated like that. It was no wonder to him now why Dilandau had so many problems.

"Did you tell anyone what he had done to you?" Van whispered.

"Oh yes, I would love to run around telling people that I, the magnificent Dilandau Albatou, had been raped by a Madoushi pedophile," Dilandau spat. "Though, I do believe your brother knew. At least, he knew something bad had happened. Folken, for all of his cautious and weak notions, was a genius. But he couldn't help me. He worked to change the future and could not undo the past."

Van winced and Dilandau once again succumbed to a fresh onslaught of tears, though he did so quietly. Van thought for a moment, then stood up and walked around Dilandau. He dropped to the ground and lay on his side, facing the silver-haired boy. Dilandau's face was wet and glistening against the dark nighttime grass.

"I, like my brother, cannot undo the past," Van said. "I look to the future as he did. I want to make a bright future for all of Gaea. But right now, all I want to do is make your present and future all right."

Dilandau closed his eyes and jewel-like tears ran down his face. "Oh god, Van. It hurts. It hurts so much," he whispered. Tentatively Van reached out and brushed a tear from Dilandau's face. The albino didn't pull away. Van sat up and gently pulled Dilandau into his lap, cradling the soldier like a mother would her child. He rocked back and forth, remembering how his own mother used to do when he had wept.

"Shh, Dilandau. It's okay, I'm right here," Van said as Dilandau sobbed and clutched his shirt fiercely with one hand. "That man can never hurt you again. Even if he were alive, I would never let him near you. You're not alone anymore."

And so Dilandau sobbed the tears of ten years of pain away, taking comfort in Van's safe arms and soft words. They stayed that way for the rest of the night, until both fell asleep just as Gaea awakened to start a new day.

~*~