dg_cain | Imperfect Person Perfectly (FINALLY) (Reply)

Title: Imperfect Person Perfectly
Author: Lyc
Rating: PG-13(?)
Spoilers: Episode One
Warnings: Gratuitous Violence, curse words, etc (the good stuff)
Author's Notes: Omg, you guys...I am so freaking sorry! This has been what...two months in the making? ::hangs head::
My IPP Muse had entered the Witness Protection Program because of my wild abuse of her without compensation by way of hotboys and chocolate. And chocolate covered hotboys. But now ::dramatic music:: she's returned!

Also, chapter thirteen has been redone. Why? Because I started writing at the wrong part and didn't realize I'd covered it until a minute ago. And I like it better now anyway. So there :p

Chapter Thirteen: The Emerald of the Eclipse

The first thought Cain had when he stepped into the massive hall of the Northern Palace was that it was a good place for an ambush. The second was wondering why there were so many pillars. What good reason could the architect have had that would have necessitated so many columns? Basic laws of building would only show the need for maybe a third of the amount that were in the room.

He made sure to keep DG on his right, where he could better protect her. When she suddenly stopped, her attention caught on something, it took less than a second for him to realize it and pull to a halt himself. His gaze went immediately to her, and then slid up to rest on what had drawn her eyes.

It was a portrait of the queen. Painted nigh on twenty years before, although it was altered from the way it’d been the first time he’d seen it. Not that he could place his finger on how, exactly. He didn’t look away as he stepped closer, not even when DG realized that the woman inside the frame was her mother.

Raw’s own revelation to the fact surprised him, but not overly so, making him look over at the Animal. He knew that Zipperhead had reached the same conclusion over the identity of DG’s mother when the Mystic Man had mentioned her ‘lavender eyes.’ Although he couldn’t be sure if the other man still remembered that fact. The Viewers being such an isolationist group in the O.Z. probably was to blame for Raw’s sketchy knowledge about the Queen.

The portrait reminded Cain of how deeply the changes were woven in the O.Z.. The beautiful raven-haired queen of the light had been replaced during a violent coup by her cold-hearted power-hungry eldest daughter. Central City had faded from a shining beacon to a decrepit and corrupt place. The Tin Men were either banished, tortured eternally or killed, long replaced by the Sorceress’ Longcoats.

He’d been just starting off in his career the last time he’d seen the portrait. An optimistic and lighthearted young man, deeply in love with his new bride and ecstatic over the coming child he’d been told about the week before.

‘You knew my mother.’

Cain couldn’t help the twinge of guilt that caught him when he remembered he’d called Zipperhead a convict. And wasn’t surprised when the very same turned around to remind him of the fact. He personally wouldn’t have forgotten being so misjudged, so it made sense that the other man felt the same way. It just wasn’t done to insult another man’s honor, his father had taught him to behave better than that.

DG began another one of her lilting remembered stories, counting out the meter with her hand. He drew his eyes away from the portrait, finally, to look at her. Better keep his mind on the present, and off the past. When she suddenly turned and bolted, his eyes went against his will back up to the painting, before Raw followed. Zipperhead and he shared a glance, before (with yet another look back at the framed picture) he followed DG…the princess.

She led them up a flight of stairs, through a corridor and finally into a room, where she suddenly halted. Furball and Zipperhead followed, with Cain close on their heels. As soon as they were all inside, they fanned out. Zipperhead aimlessly wandered, Furball headed for DG and Cain began to scout the room. He looked in every direction, even up at the ceiling, where there was a colorful mural of animals painted in a lush forest scene.

When he finally was sure that there weren’t any Longcoats hiding behind the curtains, or about to pop up from the dust covered bed (he would’ve been able to see bootprints on the dust covered floor) he immediately turned towards DG.

The way she sighed, when Furball described her mother waiting for her return, made Cain look away. Only to find Zipperhead looking back at him, the same unsure expression on his goofy face as he knew he had on his. He didn’t know how to handle a woman’s emotions, other than anger or lust, they always seemed so much more complicated than his own.
His mouth opened and closed slightly as he tried to figure out what to say to her, but nothing came to mind. Flexing his fingers didn’t help either, and he kept finding himself picking up one hand to reach out to her, before he realized what he was doing and put it back down.

He turned towards Zipperhead when he spoke, but while mildly amusing and sad at the same time, what the man did wasn’t all that important. When Furball spoke next, however, it was. The Animal was extremely upset, to a degree Cain hadn’t seen before. In fact, when he grabbed DG’s hands and began pulling her up and out of the room, he nearly ran into the ex-tin man behind him. Cain had to step backwards to avoid the collision.

DG asked Furball to tell her what he meant by ‘bad things,’ but he seemed scared out of his senses. When he turned to look at Cain, who was still standing behind him, Cain immediately ordered him to tell her what she wanted to know. He was sure to temper his usually steely tone, the furry man-creature did not need harshness at the moment, just a little authority.
Furball’s expression didn’t change, he was still afraid, but he still did what was necessary. He headed towards an old mirror against one wall, the other three following, and began pulling at the diaphanous cloths draped over it. Once it was clear he placed one hand on the edge, and bowed with pain. After a moment the mirror’s surface changed from reflecting the room as it was, to reflecting as it had been.

Cain stood riveted, his attention narrowed in on the picture glowing on the mirror’s surface. It was of the Queen, and of what Cain knew must be DG as a child, lying on the beautifully carved bed that was in the room. The Queen’s voice floated almost eerily from the mirror, singing a song he’d heard DG hum absent-mindedly more than once during their travels.
The image of the Queen he’d always held in his mind was of a dignified and aloof woman, everything royalty was in the stories his mother had told him as a child. But here, she was just a mother, singing to her child. The contrast was a startling one, he hadn’t exactly thought she was a cyborg, but he hadn’t really thought about what the royals were really like. They just…were.

Zipperhead remembered then that the child was indeed DG, and that he’d known her then too. She however seemed more fixated on the kiss the image of her mother had given her as a child. Her fingers trailed over her cheek, as if trying to feel the soft touch from over a decade before. He wasn’t sure if it was better to have forgotten everything rather than remember the horrors as well as the joys.

After the Queen left, it wasn’t more than a moment before she walked in. A cold young girl, spouting lines from a long ago supposed prophesy. He didn’t place her really until Zipperhead whispered her name, making Cain’s eyes dart between the other man’s face and the images playing out on the mirror’s surface. He could do no more than swallow and blink when DG realized who exactly the Sorceress really was. Her elder sister.

The girl, Azkadellia, continued slinking towards the bed her sister lay sleeping on, still repeating the prophesy. When she finally reached the edge of the bed, she stretched out her hands over her sister, and unleashed a mass of darkness towards the smaller child. The younger DG gasped away, choking from the magic wrapping itself around her throat. After a minute she stilled, and her older sister put down her hands, a self-satisfied smile on her icily blank face.

“She tried to kill me!”

He was quick to correct her, it was important that she realized the truth. Now was not a time to coddle her, allow her to think that she escaped unscathed, or that her sister didn’t cold-heartedly suffocate her as a child. She needed to know how far the Witch was willing to go. There would be no mercy, no quarter, just death.

Her denial had just slipped off her tongue with a shake of her head, when the Queen returned to the room. And with a suspicious glance at her departing older daughter, moved towards the bed, at first slowly and then at a dead run. A sound, seemingly torn from her throat without her will, escaped the Queen as she threw herself beside her child. Crying and apologizing for not being able to protect her.

The sound of her words settled around his heart like a vise, momentarily stopping his breath. She hadn’t been the only one unable to save her child from the Sorceress, just the first.

Her cries stopped suddenly, as if she made a decision and knew it had to be carried out swiftly. Mouth open, snow white tendrils of pure magic weaved themselves from somewhere deep inside, flowing into the mouth of her daughter. It was like watching the Sorceress work in reverse. Instead of pulling the life out of another and into herself, the Queen was pulling her life out and pushing it into her child. Silver threaded its way into the dark strands of her hair as she acted, just before she collapsed, gasping from exertion.

The Emerald of the Eclipse? Damn it, where had he heard of that before?

Chapter Fourteen: Still can't fight your own battles...

So entranced in the golden glow of the mirror’s image of the past was Cain, that he didn’t realize the Sorceress was there until he heard her speak. He should not have let his guard down! When nameless Longcoat strode forward with a sneer on his face to relieve him of his weapon, Cain opened his coat to allow the man clear access to his gun. He wasn’t going to put up with being touched by one of the Witch’s foul lackeys.

And Zero. The minute that arrogant bastard stepped into the room with that abominable smirk on his face, Cain’s eyes were on him. Thinking that possibly, if he glared hard enough, his enemy would burst into flame then and there. Sadly, it didn’t happen. Instead he was left with the disgusting taste of disappointment and failure in his mouth, coating his tongue and choking him. Zero, the smug git, gladly took the weapon from his subordinate. And held it up triumphantly, as if he’d just won something.

Azkadellia stepped forward when DG spoke to her, responding in the sickly sweet voice that usually preceded some horrific death or devastation. Zipperhead tried to defend the younger Gale, but Cain was still fixated on Zero. And of how he’d failed yet another time to protect someone he’d grown to care about from the Longcoat’s grasping hands.

He’d been a friend once, had learned and trained at Cain’s side. Their families had known each other when they were growing up, with Adora’s. The three of them had done everything together, until just Cain‘s graduation from the Academy, and Zero‘s from military training. The sudden and lasting romance between Cain and Adora created a rift between the trio, one that was never repaired. One that boiled with resentment and anger until it came to a head when the Princess deposed her mother in a violent coup.

The Sorceress’s humorless bubble of laughter brought Cain screeching back to the present, his hand reaching for the gun that was no longer there as she stepped towards her sister. The elder sister demanded the location of the Emerald, the piece of information only DG herself knew, now that the Queen had been missing for almost a decade.

DG looked only slightly confused, placing her hands on her hips as she faced down her sister. Faced down the monster she’d become. Cain looked over at her for a moment as she shook her head. She didn’t know where it was.

Was it all a trick? A way for the Queen to throw off her eldest daughter, to confuse and irritate her? But he couldn’t figure out any purpose that could possibly serve the royal line, to place the daughter of light in danger without reason, it would be madness. And while the House of Gale was known for many things, but insanity was not one of them. Not to this extent.
Ozma’s stars. There was nothing Cain would’ve liked better to do then knock that smarmy full-of-himself expression off of Zero’s ugly mug. He was watching the Witch with an almost lustful look in his eye, which wouldn’t really surprise the former tin man, Zero always did have a thing for power. So the idea of power, mixed with sick sadism and low-cut gowns, must really turn the freak on.

Azkadellia clapped her hands together, eyes on DG, and slowly drew them apart, conjuring a lantern of sorts. From within it the Queen’s voice called out for her younger daughter, her image shining from behind the glass panes of the device. With a flourish the Sorceress tossed the lantern to her sister, a smug grin tipping the edges of her lips. Cain kept his eyes on the illegitimate monarch, unable to watch DG’s face as she took in the little piece of mental torture.

From the very beginning of her campaign to overthrow her mother, the rightful Queen, the Enchantress had delighted in using both mental and physical torture upon her opponents. And when displeased with her own troops, had been quick to make an example of the leader. In the end, both enemies and allies became yet more broken toys she’d tired of playing with.
It was no secret that she’d captured the Queen eight years before, but even Cain was surprised that she had kept her alive all those years. But then again, she’d never been one for giving up anything she could use later.

Quick thinking as ever, DG smashed the device she held to the floor. Causing a burst of light, followed by an explosion of the aftereffects of dark magic, a tainted cloud that immediately swarmed towards the dark magic user in the room. Also knocking back her Longcoat confederates, who all cried out in dismay.

DG, Zipperhead and Furball all fled the room immediately, taking advantage of the distraction. But Cain did not move. Instead he waited for the cloud to dissipate, doing a quick look around him for possible weapons, and finding none, decided to fight hand to hand. Tossing his hat at them, for no other reason than to make sure his vision was unobscured, he steeled himself for the coming skirmish.

He planted one boot straight into the gut of the first who came at him, knocking him back. Knocking aside the second man’s punch, and delivering one of his own to knock him backwards. Finally Zero attacked, having waited out the first two, as usual. He did like his prey properly softened up before he himself did anything about it. Cain felt the thrill go through him at the chance to finally do damage to the man who’d single-handedly shredded his life.

Struggling for the gun, the pair both tried to get the weapon, before Cain gave up on the idea and kneed the other man in the rib cage. Causing the Witch’s General to drop Cain’s gun to the tile floor. Reaching for the pistol, Cain’s side was exposed, which Zero immediately took advantage of with a rib cracking kick to his old friend’s side. Which was succeeded with another kick, this time to the gut. A painful backhand was delivered to Cain’s jaw with one armored fist made him see stars for a moment, and spun him straight to his hands and knees on the ground.

Cain wiped blood from his mouth with the back of one hand as Zero backed off slightly, most likely to get a better view of the other man’s pain. And of course to smooth his too long blonde hair back into place, Zero always was rather narcissistic about his appearance. Getting to his feet, Cain delivered a smartass comment to aggravate his opponent, needing the time to try to shake the daze that was coming and going from the blow to the jaw.

‘Now I know why they call you Zero. Still can’t fight your own battles.’

Zero waved off his two lackeys, who were only know getting to their feet. Without realizing it, he was doing exactly what Cain wanted, coming for him all on his own. The former tin man knew that he couldn’t handle all three at once on a good day, let alone when he hadn’t had a full meal or night’s sleep since he’d escaped his tin suit. His stance was less than steady as he held up his fists to fight the other man, his head was still swimming from that blow. ‘Lucky shot,’ he thought mulishly.

Cain was the first to attack, three heavy blows that, if they had landed, would have done serious damage to his adversary. But all three were blocked the general’s armored arm, just causing damage to Cain’s fists. Zero threw a right hook that was particularly nasty, clipping his jaw nicely. But the former tin man did not fall, instead he threw a haymaker that knocked Zero on his ass with a nice twirl.

Cain couldn’t enjoy the image however, because immediately one of the Longcoats who’d been standing back leapt on him. Throwing an arm around his neck and yanking him backwards with bruising force. Less than a moment later the second Longcoat planted a fist in Cain’s face, making blood flood his mouth as his cheek smashed against his teeth. Another hit to the kidneys and he was feeling the pain. Then a double fisted attack to the right side of his face, which made him feel as all his teeth rattled in his skull. The man just kept on delivering blow after blow to Cain’s body and face as his buddy held him in a standing position.

Gathering his strength, Cain used the Longcoat’s hold on him to lift up his legs and kick the man, who’d rained relentless blows upon him, straight in the gut and knocking him backwards. He slammed an elbow backwards into the fleshy gut of the man holding him, following it with another elbow hit, this time to the man‘s face. When the first came at him again, Cain made sure he got his share of the pain he was delivering.

Zero finally reappeared, punching an open hand straight to Cain’s sternum and knocking the wind out of him. Mercilessly, he grabbed his old friend’s head and kneed him straight in the nose and mouth. Bloody, bruised and head swimming in pain and dizziness, Cain could no longer stand up straight. But Zero tipped up his chin with one hand, forcing him to look up at his smiling display. Before dropping the final bashing blow onto his upturned face.

Cain dropped to the floor in a the space of a hummingbird’s heartbeat. And lay there, muddled and vision spinning, eyes glazed. He was close to unconsciousness, he could feel it. Still he struggled to get back on his feet, focusing on Zero’s hateful voice as a way of keeping himself awake, if only for a few minutes more.

‘No wife or child, crying for years to free you from it.’

Blood dripping from his mouth, eyes, nose, as well as saliva and sweat, Cain was only fixated on what his enemy had said. His family was alive. All these annuals he’d thought them lost, but they were out there, somewhere. Alive.

Fuelled by the fledgling hope building in his chest, he finally got back on his feet and faced Zero. Just in time to be shot with his own gun. Stumbling backwards from the force of the blast, he fell into the ice-covered window pane, and through it. He screamed as he fell downwards towards the surface of the frozen lake, not only from the physical pain in his chest. But also from the heart wrenching pain of the fates playing a sadistic trick on him.

Damn it…