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04 January 2006 @ 09:52 pm
Power and Control- Chapter 11 part1  

Well, all current chapters are now up (chap 12 is in the memories)  Chapter 13 is still with the beta.  *Glares at presser_kun *  On a personal note, I think chapters 11 and 12 are my favorites so far.  I really enjoyed writing Amon for both.  He really is a complex character and it would be so easy to keep him aloof and one-dimensional.  Exploring him in the context of this story has been a welcome challenge.

Power and Control- Chapter 11

 

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            Sakaki stood just inside the doorway of his apartment, hand still clutching the knob.  The light from the hallway caused his shadow to stretch out before him, long and thin.  He couldn’t remember how he got there.  If he concentrated hard enough there were brief flashes in his memory of his motorcycle taking turns too quickly or weaving through the small amount of traffic he encountered this late at night.  But for the most part there was nothing, just a blank spot in his mind, and he didn’t want to think too hard about it.  Thinking just made the pounding inside his head worse.  His brain had been on autopilot, and that suited him just fine.

 

            His body felt cold, chilled down to the very marrow of his bones, and he knew that it was not the cool winter air that was causing it.  Sakaki was also angry, so unbelievably angry with himself, with Michael, that fucking bastard, Zaizen, and that good for nothing coward, Amon, that he didn’t know what to do with himself. 

 

Amon.  Just the thought of that name was like a kick in the ribs.

 

            Sakaki couldn’t bear to think about the man, and most definitely not about what he had just done.  He was certainly not going to revisit that experience anytime soon.  Amon had just taken it.  Oh, he had put on a brief show of resistance, but when it was all said and done, he still knelt down and sucked that bastard’s dick like it was nothing.  Sakaki didn’t understand.  He couldn’t reconcile the man he thought he knew with the one he had seen in Zaizen’s office tonight.  Is that how Michael is going to end up if I don’t stop Zaizen? Am I going to end up the same way?  I just sucked Amon’s cock in order to keep my sister’s pictures from falling into some disgusting pedophile’s hands.  What the hell does that make me? 

 

            Sakaki began to feel all of the rage that he had managed to push down into the pit of his stomach begin to come back up.  Helmet and keys fell from limp fingers to the floor; the crash sounded deafening in his empty apartment.  The back of his throat contracted and his stomach clenched powerfully.  He hastily slammed the door to his apartment shut and stumbled towards the bathroom.   

 

            He fell down hard on his knees in front of the toilet and stared blankly at the water while the tremors in his body worsened.  Convulsions started low in his belly and rolled upwards until his mouth filled with bile.  He leaned violently into the bowl and vomited out all the accumulated pain, anger, shame, and guilt.  He coughed and choked on the foul liquid as it burned the back of his throat and seared his nasal passages.  He squeezed his eyes shut at the stinging sensation and felt hot tears scoring his cheeks.  When the heaving stopped, his head fell onto his outstretched arm.  Panting with exhaustion, he absently spat the drool lingering on his lips and waited for his body to recover.  He looked down, staring through the frothy, half-digested contents of the bowl.  His eyes focused sharply at the realization that somewhere in that rank concoction was Amon’s semen.  He retched violently again, dry heaved until he felt like his stomach had turned inside-out, and then promptly passed out on the bathroom floor.

 

            Sakaki came back to consciousness sometime later, confused briefly as to why he was on the floor.  He blinked up at the ceiling while his eyes adjusted to the light.  He was on his back with his neck bent awkwardly, chin touching his collarbone.  He had apparently fallen back against the bath tub and then his limp body slumped down into its current position, wedged into the corner between the wall and the tub.  He groaned loudly as the muscles in his neck and shoulders protested painfully as he began to slowly pull himself upright.  The sudden rush of blood back into his head caused him to cry out and clutch his scalp as white-hot pain tore through his brain like a knife.  He nearly passed out again from the onslaught, but squeezed his eyes shut and just rode out the wave until it subsided. When his senses finally returned to a somewhat normal level, he was greeted by the acrid odor emanating from the toilet, threatening to start the whole process over again.  Sakaki clamped a hand over his mouth and reached blindly for the flush lever.

 

            Keep it down…come on…keep it down.

 

            It took another long stretch of minutes for him to rally the energy to pull himself to his feet.  Once that was accomplished, he held onto the sink until the dizziness passed.  Sakaki nearly gagged again at the horrible taste in his mouth and leaned over the sink to cup the cold water from the faucet in his hand and bring it up to his mouth to gargle and wash the dried puke from his chin.  He repeated this process until he could no longer taste what he had regurgitated.  He hissed loudly between his teeth when the water splashed up onto his abraded wrists, causing pain to blaze through the raw skin.  There was also an odd tugging sensation on the injuries whenever he moved.  He shrugged off the leather jacket and carefully peeled back the cuff of his shirt.  He muttered a curse under his breath at what was revealed.  The long-sleeved, cotton shirt clung to freshly congealed blood.  Sakaki took a deep breath to try and steady his trembling hands as he began to slowly separate cloth from wound, pausing more than once, nearly swooning from the burning agony.  The once pristine white of the basin was now stained with droplets of red, and Sakaki cursed his weakness at fainting long enough for the wounds to close.

 

“Damn it,” he whispered hoarsely as another scab was torn off.  There was the briefest of moments where he entertained the notion of pulling the shirt in one, fast motion, as one would do a band-aid, but after seeing just how adhered to the blood it was made him rethink that strategy.  He bit his lip to stave off some of the queasiness and trudged onward.   By the time he was finished, he was nauseous and light-headed, and leaned heavily on the wall adjacent to the sink to keep him upright.  The tears were much worse than what he had initially sustained from Zaizen’s handcuffs. Sakaki didn’t think there was any skin left covering his wrists and he was sure that he seen the pale color of exposed bone at one point.  His head was throbbing unmercifully and it took all the strength he had left to wash and then gently dry his bloody wrists. 

 

            Sakaki was disappointed to find that he did not own a first aid kit and slammed the door to the medicine cabinet out of frustration. Wanting nothing more than to crawl into his bed and fall asleep, he grabbed the first thing he thought would make a good substitute for gauze: toilet paper.  He wrapped his wrists as best he could, not really caring how ridiculous it looked.  It would keep the wounds clean until he could go out and pick up some real medical supplies, and that was good enough for him at this moment. 

 

            Sakaki stumbled out of the bathroom and collapsed, face first onto his bed.   He stayed there, motionless for a moment before the realization that he was still fully clothed set in. He toed off his shoes and had to talk his weary body into rolling over so that he could undo his jeans and pull them off.  It was too much effort to remove anything else, so he crawled under the covers in just his shirt and boxers.  Sakaki was aware of the large bump of the side of his head made by Zaizen’s elbow.  He was more than likely concussed this time, but he didn’t care.  He didn’t want to have to think anymore.  He didn’t want face everything that happened.  He couldn’t face everything that happened.  Sakaki closed his eyes tightly and the room felt like it was spinning. He gave no resistance to the numbing blackness that slowly crept over him.   

     

 

~*~*~*~*~*

 

 

            Amon leaned against the rear bumper of his car while he watched the Factory workers load the body of the captured witch into the back of the truck.  It was cold, much too cold for his liking, and he turned the collar of his trench coat up to keep some of the chill off his neck.  The hunt was a success, but did not go off without incident.  Sakaki never showed and was not answering his cell phone.  Michael had been frantic when he arrived at Raven’s Flat that morning and looked like he hadn’t slept at all.  The hacker informed him that he was unable to reach Sakaki and had spent most of the night trying.   The others were suitably worried at Sakaki’s absence, but he explained it away as being due to illness.  He found it almost amusing that the explanation was met with the same curious stares as his bruised cheek and bloodied lip which, thankfully, no one had the nerve to ask about.     

 

Amon wasn’t surprised in the least.  When Sakaki stormed out last night he had been very upset.  He figured the rookie hunter just needed some time to cool off and come to terms with what happened, but when he was a no-show that afternoon for the hunt, Amon had to admit to a spark of concern deep inside.  Concern and a heaping amount of guilt.  The image of Sakaki on his knees in front of him flared to the forefront of his mind.  He pushed it away and tried to tell himself that it was better that it was him and not Zaizen that the headstrong blond had been forced to fellate.  It was cold comfort at best.  But that was not what Amon fought even harder to convince himself as untrue.  It was the knowledge that some part him, some hidden little corner of his battered, cloistered heart, had enjoyed it.  And that thought sat like a boulder in his belly.  Was he so pathetically desperate for any type of non-painful attention that he would find enjoyment from another’s coerced ministrations?   Amon knew the answer to that question. He knew he wasn’t worthy of even the smallest fraction of affection, let alone the type of love Michael and Sakaki shared with one another, but that didn’t keep the envious feelings at bay.  On more than one occasion Amon had come across the two lovers in a moment of unchecked passion.  A long kiss in the courtyard when they thought everyone had gone home for the evening, a tender embrace in the hall when no one was around- Amon had silently watched these occurrences with a hollowness that was hard to bear.  Though he would never admit it, he wanted someone to fill his own aching emptiness.  But who would ever want him?  He was a rich man’s plaything, used and passed around for the pleasure of others.  No, he had nothing to offer…nothing at all.      

 

Amon shook his long bangs out of his eyes.  He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose between his middle finger and thumb to quell the building pressure behind his eyes.  There was a shuffling of feet on the cement that drew his attention and he raised his head to watch Doujima and Karasuma as they spoke with Nanjo, the Factory’s squad leader.  He was too far away to hear the words passed between them, but could tell by their somber expressions what was being discussed.  Their conversation ended with a polite bow from the two women.  Doujima headed off in one direction, presumably back to her own car, while Karasuma walked over to Robin leaning against the stone wall of the warehouse.  The short-haired woman placed a hand on Robin’s shoulder and said something to the young craft-user who shook her head solemnly.   Amon stood up straight when the two began to walk in his direction.

 

“The team said that they found no evidence of a second shooter in the warehouse,” Karasuma stated carefully.  “No spent shells or bullet holes where Robin said the sniper was.”

 

“I know what I saw,” Robin said irritably.

 

“And why is there no evidence to back up your story?” Amon snapped.  “This hunt was almost a failure thanks to you.”

 

“But Amon, I saw it.  There was an Ogham Circle, I’m sure of it, and when I went to get a closer look, someone fired at me.  I’m not-“

 

“If that were the case, then there should be something.  It only indicates your level of maturity if you feel the need to make up ridiculous stories to cover your own ineptitude as a hunter.” 

 

Robin gasped and took a step back, stunned into silence at Amon’s harsh words.  Karasuma opened her mouth as if to say something on Robin’s behalf, but held it back when Amon leveled his gaze at her.

 

“Robin, why don’t you go and wait by my car?  I’ll take you home,” Karasuma suggested as she put an arm around her shoulders and gently steered the young girl away from Amon.  It took a few seconds for Robin to get her feet working, but when she came out of her shock, she spun on her heel, the streamers hanging from her strange pony tails whipping around her face, and stormed away in an angry huff that would have made Doujima proud.  

 

As soon as Robin was out of earshot, Karasuma turned to the man standing next to her.  “Don’t you think you’re being a little hard on her?” she asked.  “Everyone makes mistakes every now-“

 

“Her mistakes are becoming more frequent and are starting to affect the hunts,” Amon interrupted sternly.  “If she doesn’t learn to control herself and stop making excuses for her inadequacies, the rest of the team will suffer for it.”

 

Karasuma crossed he arms over her chest and tilted her head to the side as she regarded Amon for a moment.  “Are you alright?” 

 

The tall man blanched at the unexpected question, but recovered quickly.  “I’m fine,” he answered dryly.

 

“I wouldn’t normally pry, but you don’t seem the type to get into bar room brawls.”  Karasuma’s gaze passed over his bruised face.  She took a step closer and lowered her voice.  “If there is something you need help with-“

 

“I said I’m fine.” Amon growled through clenched teeth.  “My private life is of no concern to you.  Leave it alone.”  He turned his back his teammate and began to walk to the driver’s side of his car.  The discussion was over. 

 

“Yeah, but, I get the feeling that there is something going on that you’re not telling anyone, and it looks like it involves Michael and Sakaki as well,” Karasuma called after him.

 

That got Amon’s attention.  He turned around slowly to face the young woman who seemed surprised that he had acknowledged her statement.  A few strides of his long legs and he stood towering above her.  “I’m afraid you have your facts incorrect, Karasuma,” he said with a sneer.  “Don’t go filling your head with speculation when you have nothing to back it up with.”  The shorter woman actually cowered at the venom in his voice.  Amon could be very intimidating when he wanted to be.  “I suggest you go home and we’ll forget all about this little conversation.  There is nothing going on with anyone.  It’s all just a strange coincidence,” he said with an eyebrow cocked.  There was enough underlying threat in his tone to make Karasuma nod her head dumbly.  She backed up a few steps and then turned to quickly scurry away.

 

Amon slid behind the wheel of his car and slammed the door shut.  He hated having to do that to Karasuma.  She didn’t deserve that tone of voice, but he couldn’t have her sniffing around and uncovering the truth.  Everything was going wrong.  All of his careful planning was starting to fall apart.  They needed to act and they needed to do it soon, or else Sakaki would be trapped as well. 

 

Amon pulled his phone from his pocket and hit the speed dial for the office.  Michael picked up on the second ring.  “Any word yet?” he asked as he let his head rest against the window.

 

“No, nothing.”  Michael sounded disappointed.  “I’m really starting to worry, Amon.  Maybe he’s hurt.” 

 

“It’s doubtful; he probably just needs some time alone.”

 

Michael sighed loudly into the receiver.  “We shouldn’t have let him leave last night.  He was too upset, he shouldn’t have been riding…and he probably had a concussion from when…Zaizen hit him.  What if he got into an accident and is lying in a ditch somewhere?” the hacker said with building panic.   

 

“Relax, Michael.  If that were the case, we would have been notified or his name would have shown up on the hospital’s directory, which I’m sure you’ve already checked.”  Amon could hear Michael’s blush over the phone and a small smile touched his lips.  “He just needs some time to get a grip on…everything and we should leave him be.”

 

“Maybe you could take a ride over to his apartment and check up on him,” Michael asked hopefully.  There was a long pause before Amon spoke.

 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.  I’m the last person he wants to see.”

 

“Please, Amon.  You’re the only one who can go over there…please,” Michael begged. 

 

Amon leaned forward until his forehead touched the steering wheel.  “Michael,” he sighed.  “I can’t.  He won’t talk to me.  He-“

 

“Please?  Even if he slams the door in your face, I just need to make sure he’s okay.  Please do this for me.”

 

The unmitigated sorrow in Michael’s voice tore through Amon’s defenses like battering ram.  Amon knew it was a bad idea, but how could he refuse when he realized just how distraught the hacker was. 

 

“Give me the address,” he replied wearily.

 

“I’m sending it to you right now via non-linear filter…and Amon?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Thank you.  I know this is hard for you,” Michael said reverently. 

 

You have no idea, Michael, is what he wanted to say.  “I’ll call you later and let you know how things turned out,” is what he actually verbalized.  Amon disconnected the call and then flipped open the display on the back of the phone.  Not only had Michael provided him with the address, the overzealous redhead had also given him a detailed map outlining the fastest route.   A wry grin touched his lips. 

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

 

 

Amon stood outside the door to Sakaki’s apartment.  It was in a well-kept building in a typical middle-class area.   Most of the building’s occupants were university students whose parents could afford to have them live off-campus, though it was unusually quiet for a tenement full of rowdy college students. Amon pulled his phone out of his pocket to be sure he had the correct apartment number even though he knew he did.  He was stalling. 

 

Amon took a deep breath to calm himself, knocked twice on the door and waited.  There was no answer. 

 

“Sakaki?” he inquired as he rapped his knuckles against the door a second time.  When the blonde didn’t come to the door, he leaned in to see if he could hear any movement inside.  The apartment seemed quiet.  Amon gave the doorknob an experimental turn and was surprised to find it unlocked. 

 

“Sakaki?” he called out again as he poked his head inside.  From what he could see, the apartment was dark.  Either Sakaki was not here or he was sitting in an unlit apartment. 

 

Concern started to build inside him.  There was a real fear that Michael might have been right and Sakaki never made it back here after he left Raven’s Flat last night.  He stepped inside the foyer and closed the door behind him.  There was a light switch on the wall to the right and he flicked it on.  The overhead dome light wasn’t very bright, but it provided enough illumination for Amon to see the helmet and keys on the floor at his feet.  Relief washed over him.  Sakaki was here.

 

Amon slowly walked further into the apartment.  He didn’t want to take the teen by surprise, since he was technically uninvited.  He took a moment to glance around the room and get his bearings.  The apartment was surprisingly tidy and sparse considering that Sakaki was such a slacker when it came to the neatness of his work space.  He continued forward into the living room.  It was good-sized room with a large picture window on the wall opposite the entrance.  Amon turned to the right and stopped inside the doorway to the bedroom.  There was a pair of jeans and sneakers thrown haphazardly on the floor and buried underneath a mountain of covers on the bed was Sakaki, sound asleep. Amon didn’t want to rush in and startle the boy, so he called his name.  A low, sick-sounding groan came from under the blankets.     

 

“Sakaki, are you alright?” Amon asked as he took a cautious step into the room.  The body under the covers shifted slightly and moaned again.  Amon moved to the foot of the bed and called out softly again.  This time he was close enough to see when violet eyes snapped open at the sound of his voice, dazed and unfocused.

 

 
 
Current Mood: mellowmellow
Current Music: "Weak and Powerless" -A Perfect Circle