Current mood:	tired
Current music:	'Quasimodo' - Lifehouse

FIC: [Vandread] 'Himegoto' 1/3 (BC/Meia, R)
One of these days I'll post more of that FFVII fic. ^_~ But for now, I'm going to start posting the Vandread stuff I've been working on. Most of it's for the 30_lemons community, but this is the prequel to the smut, setting up the relationship as it were. ^_^

Given said relationship's oddness, I really don't expect anyone to read this, but hey, I'm having fun. ;P

This fic is basically self-contained, but I still consider it a WIP because it's part of a series. Until the series is finished, I may at any point end up going to the earlier stories to fix inconsistencies and whatnot, hence the WIP status. ^_^

Fandom: Vandread (anime)
Date Finished: June 13th, 2005
Classification: Angst, WAFF, Romance
Pairing: BC/Meia
Rating: R
Note: Response to an opening line challenge from the quillandink livejournal community.

Himegoto
By Elsewhere
elsewherecw@shaw.ca

Disclaimer: The universe and characters aren’t mine. How shocking, eh?

Distribution: If you want this story for any page other than the ones I’ve sent it to, please ask me first, so I know where it goes.

Spoilers: For the entire series, essentially, but mostly Second Stage and Gekitouhen. If you haven’t seen the entire series, I advise you not to read this.

Series Warnings: For the most part this focuses on a heterosexual romance, but given that this is Vandread, there are frequent references to yuri, and even the occasional mention of yaoi.

Summary: A surprise enemy attack leaves Meia trapped, alone in the dark, facing her own demons. But must she face them by herself?

Part One:

*****

It was foggy and cold when she woke up. She struggled to take in her surroundings, to understand more than the blurry, dark shapes swimming in front of her eyes. It was several moments before she remembered.

The battle had started before they’d had time to prepare for it; the enemy were getting more clever, more insidious with every battle. The attack had damaged the west section of the lower decks, the place where so many of the crew made their homes. After that, a state of controlled chaos. BC had left the bridge, gone to oversee the evacuation of the area and the safety of her crew. Then came the order to launch the dreads.

She had been on her way to the launch bay---she could remember cursing inwardly, her forehead bunched into a stern frown, as the ship trembled and bucked beneath her feet. The last thing she remembered was the feeling of the deck dropping out beneath her, the world tilting and spinning around her before time ceased.

She sat up gingerly, a hand against a throbbing pain in her right side as she looked around, assessing the situation.

Above her was a threatening darkness in place of the usual comforting sight of grey metal. The ceiling was gone. She could only conclude her instinct had been correct: the hallway she had been standing in had collapsed down into the hall below. A quick glance at her surroundings---piles of rubble rising higher than her sitting form, drifting dust that stung her eyes---told her that she was more than lucky to be alive, much less barely injured.

With that thought, she turned her assessment inward. The sting in her right abdomen was a cut, deep but not immediately threatening. She didn’t feel any of the familiar pain of internal injury, and her senses were clearing quickly---aside from a possible concussion, she wasn’t seriously hurt. One ankle was trapped beneath a small pile of debris; it was sore, but not overwhelming.

With a wince, she leaned forward, and used the hand not clamped against her waist to push away the fragments of metal, until her foot was free. Her fingers searched the flesh and bone of her ankle, and she sighed in relief upon deciding that it was sprained, nothing more.

She got to her feet slowly, keeping her weight off of the injured ankle and wary of causing the bleeding from her wound to worsen. The next essential step was to search for anyone else who might have been trapped in the rubble. With that thought fixed in her mind, she limped forward, skirting the piles of debris as best she could, her eyes narrowed against the sting of dust.

What was probably minutes felt like hours, moving slowly on an injured foot and with the hot, metallic scent of blood hitting her nose. She moved as fast as she could, ignoring the fact that her breathing was getting faster with every step; trying to stop herself from whipping her head around, searching for shadows in the darkness around her.

She traversed the length of the hallway, passing two broken, nonfunctional communication panels on the way. With no way to contact the bridge and ask for help, she had no choice but to continue her painful trek, searching for signs of life in the twisted metal around her.

She gritted her teeth in frustration as she came up against a blockage, a tall tumble of rubble that kept her from moving forward. She had no choice but to climb, and she did, forehead creased in concentration as she focused on each step upwards rather than the pain that shot through her body with every move she made. She made it to the top, again in a time span that could be measured in fast, uneven breaths and the slow, constant drip of blood down her side. She was about to start her way down the other side, her eyes staring blindly into the all-encompassing blackness before her, when she set her foot down on an uneven piece of debris. She couldn’t help the sound of shock that escaped her as she tumbled downwards, and then the grunt of pain as she hit the ground below.

Her disgruntlement was short-lived, however, when she realized that she had fallen on something…or rather, someone. Beneath her hand she could feel the familiar warmth of human flesh. Sucking in a quick breath, she scrambled to one side, taking her weight off of the other person.

"Are you all right?" she whispered into the dark, and when she received no response, she clenched her teeth again and leaned over. She hovered her hand over the length of the still body beneath her, seeking first some sort of identification, and then any vital signs. The first she found almost instantly. Her hand brushed against cold metal lying against bare skin; her finger scraped briefly into a navel. A bare midriff and metal adorning the ribcage meant only one person: the sub-commander. But why was she here!? She was supposed to be in the west section, taking care of the evacuation…

She swore under her breath. This complicated matters somewhat. If BC were dead… She forced herself to be steady as she moved her hand upwards, stopping when her fingers bumped against the sub-commander’s nose. She held her hand still for several seconds, waiting with her own breath held, only to let it out in relief when she felt a brief puff of warmth against her palm. BC was alive. Her breathing was shallow and short, but she was alive.

For a few minutes after that, all the time in the universe focused in on a waiting game, the rules of which were centered around the uneven flow of breath against her skin. She waited and watched, staring steadily, forcing her eyes fully open despite the sting, until finally her eyes became accustomed to her surroundings and the shapes around her began to resolve into concrete entities. She took in the dark masses to her left and right, and behind her, judging as best she could the distance and size of the piles of debris surrounding them. Then she assessed the sub-commander’s condition, using both hands and mostly-blind eyes to map the state of BC’s body.

She found the broken leg immediately; she had to swallow back the bile that hit the back of her throat when her hand touched on a sticky mess of splintered bone and shredded flesh. Shivering slightly, she continued, telling herself to be professional and not think about the blood on her hands. A quick feel of BC’s chest proved a lack of broken ribs.

She finished her silent check-up and turned her attention to the unpleasant task of splinting the broken bone.

Again, minutes seemed to stretch into hours as she fumbled blindly in the darkness, looking for anything she could use. It took time, but she eventually came across two short lengths of broken piping. Jagged edges tore the skin of her hands as she worked with the pipes, binding them as tightly as she could to the sub-commander’s leg with a torn length of fabric from her own jacket.

After that, she held her hand once again over BC’s face, waiting for the comforting feeling of the other woman’s breath, before she settled herself on the floor next to BC’s prone form. She leant back against some of the rubble and closed her eyes, trying to calm her breathing. The longer she remained in here, the more menacing the dark seemed, and the more she felt her chest clench with fear.

She wasn’t sure how long had passed; even seconds felt like an eternity as she sat there, her face buried in her arms, struggling not to hyperventilate. But however long she had been alone in the darkness, she finally heard the comforting sound of another human voice. It was little more than a muffled groan, but it was enough to make her whip her head up, staring towards the sound.

She heard another soft grunt, and then a quick breath; then, silence for a moment before finally, her companion in pain spoke.

"Is…anyone there?"

Just like the sub-commander, she thought. Even at a time like this, her voice didn’t waver, didn’t show the slightest trace of uncertainty. Her voice was calm and even.

"Yes, I’m here," she said. Her voice was hoarse, and she stopped to cough, trying to dislodge the grainy dust from her tongue. She would have attempted something more complete, more coherent, but BC beat her to it.

"Meia?" A brief note of surprise, and then silence.

"Yes."

The silence stretched into the sound of her own hasty breaths as she imagined BC doing the same she had done earlier: assessing her own condition, and the situation they found themselves in. She heard the shift of clothing against clothing, the soft smack of a hand against metal as, presumably, the sub-commander tried to lift herself to a sitting position. Then a gasp of pain, and the sound of several ragged breaths.

"What did you do?"

She blinked in surprise, the question taking her off guard. BC’s voice, usually so composed, suddenly sounded frantic.

"Do…?" She frowned. "Nothing. Your leg is broken. I splinted it as best I could."

Another silence, this one briefer, before she heard a slow, even breath.

"Thank you." A hesitant murmur; again, Meia was surprised. BC, hesitant?

"…What happened?" BC’s voice returned to its usual firm tone, and Meia felt her stiff shoulders start to relax.

"We must have taken damage in the battle…the floor of the hallway above this one collapsed. But, fukuchou …I thought you were taking care of the evacuation, in the west section."

"That was finished," BC said, and again Meia mused on how utterly calm BC seemed, despite her serious injury. "I was on my way back to the bridge when…"

"I was on my way to the dread hangar," Meia said, allowing the first note of impatience into her voice.

"I see…have you been able to contact the bridge?" BC asked.

"No," Meia shook her head, even though she knew her companion couldn’t see it. "For all intents and purposes, we’re trapped here. I passed some comm panels earlier, but they were dead."

BC didn’t answer, but Meia could hear movement. The sound was unnerving, without something visual to connect it to.

"What are you doing?" Meia asked, and winced when she heard how breathless she had become.

"Looking for my communicator," BC answered shortly. A moment later, Meia heard the sound of a breath, hastily puffed out. "…Damn it. Broken."

Meia swallowed. They would be trapped in here for as long as it would take the bridge to realize exactly what had happened, and to clear away enough of the rubble to get to them… She flinched at the sound of something shifting in the darkness, metal sliding against metal as somewhere, some of the debris fell apart. They were alone and defenseless in vulnerable territory, on floor that could conceivably collapse beneath them, under hanging bits of twisted metal that could conceivably fall *on* them, trapped in the dark…

Suddenly the walls around her seemed extremely close. She was sitting in a box, unable to even stretch her arms out. She fought not to whimper as she forced herself to breathe, her eyes closed and throat working to keep the bile down.

"Meia?" BC’s voice, this time sounding concerned. This was an emotion that Meia was all too familiar with from the sub-commander. BC was always so concerned for her fellow crew members, always checking to make sure they were all right, always there to deliver a lecture or an encouraging word of advice where it was needed. But in all her time with the Vivan pirates, she had never heard that particular tone of BC’s directed towards her.

"Meia? Answer me," BC said, a note of urgency entering her tone. Meia caught her breath, and realized she had no breath to catch. She was panting, gasping for air.

"Meia! Meia!!"

For a moment she blacked out; when she could breathe again she found herself enveloped in a loose embrace, warm hands against her arms.

"Meia! Meia!" Now BC’s voice was flustered, bordering on desperate.

"…Yes…" Meia whispered, unable to manage anything else.

"What is it? What’s wrong!?" BC was demanding. Of course…she always worried about everyone so much. Surely it was difficult for her to see someone in trouble and not know what to do.

Meia calculated all of these simple thoughts easily, while her deeper thought processes remained occupied in the darkness.

"Meia! Answer me!" The fingers wrapped around her arms tightened. When no answer came, she felt the fingers tighten until they were painful, heard the sound of a few hasty breaths, and then her eyes snapped open as she felt the warm touch of skin against her forehead and breath fanning across her mouth.

"Meia, come back. Stay with me." It wasn’t a request, but rather an order. Meia blinked, and felt her breathing start to calm. The hands on her arms anchored her. The forehead against her own, the eyes staring into hers, the breath over her face kept her grounded.

"Fukuchou …" she said reluctantly, and suddenly she felt incredibly ashamed. How pathetic, to be seen in such a state by the sub-commander, one of the people she most respected in the world. How mortifying.

"Meia. What is it?" A softer tone, persuasive and kind. "You can tell me, Meia."

Her hands clenched into fists in her lap as she gritted her teeth. She pulled back, and BC let her, lifting her own head. But Meia could still feel the eyes on her, expecting an answer.

"It’s…I’m…claustrophobic," she said quietly, her nails biting into the palms of her hands as she fought to keep her voice even and calm. Calm. She had to stay calm.

"Claustrophobic?" BC repeated, sounding surprised.

"Yes…I’m sorry," Meia said, turning her head. She couldn’t face the feeling of those dark eyes on her, watching her.

"Why are you sorry?" BC said, with such ease that Meia again felt a tingle of shame move down her spine. How mortifying… "It’s perfectly natural, Meia. You should have said earlier."

"I’ll be fine," Meia said, not intending the stern note that made its way into her tone. As casual as their hierarchy was, she didn’t usually make a habit of speaking sharply to her superiors.

"Yes, you will," BC agreed, and Meia blinked in surprise. She didn’t know what she had expected, but that hadn’t been it. She caught her breath when she felt BC’s hands fall away from her arms, only to press against her palms, open in her lap. "Take my hands, Meia."

"But…"

"You’re not alone." And that was it. BC didn’t speak again, falling into silence as her long, slender fingers intertwined with Meia’s smaller, shorter ones and held tight. Meia felt her breathing even out, felt her mind retreating from the dark around them, focusing almost desperately on the feeling of the warm, slightly moist palms pressed to her own.

"Fukuchou …" She began, a bit breathless. "You’re hurt…you should have stayed where you were, in case you have any inter…"

"I’m fine." Her tone was short, clipped, bearing little resemblance to the kindness of a moment before. Meia blinked and gritted her teeth, tamping down her instant reaction of annoyance.

Then she heard a slow breath, and one of the hands against her own squeezed reassuringly.

"I’m sorry to be short with you, Meia," BC murmured, and in this longer vocalization, Meia recognized the sound of preoccupation. "I was listening to something else."

"Something else…?" she questioned.

BC didn’t answer, and Meia held her breath, straining her own ears now to hear something in the silence, something beyond the slow, hard beating of her own heart.

After a moment of stillness during which Meia was only slightly aware of the strength with which she was gripping the other woman’s fingers, she finally heard it: a rustling sound, coming from directly ahead of them.

"What is it?" Meia whispered, as quietly as she could while still assuring that the sub-commander could hear her. Her heart pounded louder in her ears as she hoped fervently that it was their rescuers, the inevitable team of their fellow Mejale come to free them from the darkness…

That hope was dashed when the sound of the first hard bang resonated through the small space they were enclosed in. Meia felt herself shaking to her core, suddenly aching all over as she realized how tightly she’d been holding herself in tension. Her breath rattled in her chest; her eyes darted desperately around her, seeking the source of the noise.

"What is it!?" she said, only realizing after it was out of her mouth that she had shouted it, and that her tone was one of fearful desperation. The darkness was threatening to enclose her again. Her eyes spun wildly in their sockets, seeking purchase. She was sure she was clasping BC’s hands so tightly that her fingernails would leave marks.

"I don’t know," BC said quietly, her calmness only serving to further agitate Meia. She felt her breath rasping hard and fast in her throat. "But it isn’t human…"

The enemy! Oh gods, the enemy…the enemy was…

For several minutes, time sped up, becoming endless seconds. Shapes in the darkness around her flickered by in fast forward; BC’s hands left her, BC left her, she was alone; she clasped her hands against her head and fought the rushing sensation behind her eyes, the feeling of the oily blackness around her enfolding her in its cold embrace. The last thing she heard before she blacked out again was the sound of her own feeble whimpers, helplessly torn from her throat as she struggled against the pressure in her mind.

This time when she came to, she was leaning against something warm. She was enfolded in that warmth, and she could hear the sound of soft, even breathing. Human breath. With a start, she sat upright, rasping in a breath of her own.

"Meia! Shh, Meia…it’s all right. Calm down." BC’s voice, strong and soothing. She realized almost immediately that the warm body she was leaning against was BC’s; that the arm nestled around her back was BC’s, holding her firmly against BC’s side.

"Fu…fukuchou …" She took several deep breaths, waiting until the edge of panic had left her voice before she tried again. "What…"

"It’s all right," BC repeated. The arm tightened, implying that she wouldn’t let go. "It was one of the enemy, scouting around. I dispatched it."

Her voice was calm, no-nonsense. Again Meia felt the sharp slam of shame compress her ribcage. How mortifying… But she felt it would only be more pitiful to apologize for her lapse, to beg that BC overlook her weakness.

"They got inside the ship?" She breathed the question as calmly as she could.

"I can only hope there were no others inside," BC answered, her voice hardening with what to Meia sounded like determination.

After that Meia was silent, stewing alone in her misery, in her mortification. She was still afraid, but she was also so ashamed…how would she ever face the sub-commander again, after this? After the ‘courage’ she had shown here?

"Meia." The voice was soft, gentle. She felt BC’s other arm join the first, enfolding her in a cautious embrace. Somehow BC managed to hold her at the same time as keeping her at arm’s length. It made Meia ache, to feel the restraint in BC’s motion. Disgust, surely…disgust with the weak creature she was forced to support…

"Meia." There it was again. But it didn’t sound like pity. "It’s all right. I understand."

A hand stroked almost hesitantly into her hair, cradling the back of her head as BC pulled Meia to rest her forehead against BC’s bare shoulder. Meia blinked several times, trying to stop the tears that threatened, and let out a shaky breath.

/No, you don’t,/ she wanted to say, but couldn’t. /You don’t understand./

How mortifying…

Despite herself, despite the way she gritted her teeth and fisted her hands until her nails bit into skin, despite the way she fought within herself, eventually she found herself slipping, again falling prey to darkness, this time without a struggle.

She wasn’t sure how long she slept, dozing uneasily against BC’s supportive shoulder, but when she woke it was again to the sound of shifting metal. She started, tried to pull away from BC, her breath instantly catching in her throat, only to feel BC’s hand curl around her shoulder and hold fast.

"It’s okay. It’s the crew," BC said, with a certainty that Meia couldn’t ignore. Relief instantly flooded through her, and she found herself staring in the direction of the sound as she waited, breath held.

Again, time sped to a steady stream of events, motions, sounds. It seemed only a matter of seconds that she had waited before light poured into the dark space around them, leaving her blinking in confusion, and people rushed in to fill the blankness. She felt herself go numb as she was lifted away from BC’s side, as she was bombarded with questions she couldn’t answer…as she blinked away the tears again. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again she was in the medical bay, stretched out on one of the hospital beds just as she had so often been of late, it seemed.

She closed her eyes against the returning sense of mortification and waited until she heard the calm, low voice of Duero, talking to her, diagnosing her, telling her she would be fine. She expected him to lecture her about stretching herself past her limits, about her condition and how it required no embarrassment. But he didn’t say it. He seemed preoccupied.

She opened her eyes and glanced over to the bed next to her, only to feel her heart freeze in her chest when her eyes met a solid, steady pair of green ones.

"Fukuchou!" It sounded like a yelp; she couldn’t contain it. She watched as a smile slowly settled onto BC’s face…that usual reassuring smile.

"I’m fine, Meia," BC said, tilting her chin to indicate where the doctor was working on her leg. Meia’s eyes widened and she had to turn away when she saw the scattered mess of bloody gauze. Duero was cleaning BC’s wound, probably preparing to set it…Meia closed her eyes, yet again forcing down the bile in her throat.

Sure enough, in a few moments she heard the distinct sound of crunching bone, followed by a rough grunt in BC’s distinctive, throaty voice. That was all BC displayed of her pain. Meia felt herself trembling. How mortifying…she had showed herself to be so weak, had shown such pathetic behavior right in front of a person so strong she could never measure up…

She wasn’t paying attention, didn’t realize what was happening until she heard the surprised squeak of someone off to her left---Paiwei, she realized shortly---and then a metal dish was shoved in front of her face, catching the last of the contents of her stomach as she heaved helplessly.

She struggled for a moment, bent over the pan, her eyes closed tightly against the sting of tears, her rasping gasps sounding like sobs. Then she felt a sharp pain in her upper arm, and within moments, the world went black again.

She woke to the sound of chattering voices, to the feeling of hands clasping hers, and a scattered, soft sound of sniffling. When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was the faces crowded around her. The first thing she heard was a cacophony of voices, each one expressing their worry and relief that she was all right. A quick glance to her left, and she took in the sight of BC, peacefully sleeping. She also had a crowd around her, concerned crew members murmuring their concern as they watched over her.

"Leader! Thank goodness you’re okay!" Dita’s voice, high with distress. She felt a clammy hand grasping her own.

She forced a smile.

"I’m fine, Dita…" She cleared her throat, glancing around at all the faces hovering over her. Sense returned to her slowly; emotions were closed off behind a hard wall. "Was anyone else hurt in the explosion?"

"No…you and fukuchou-san were the only ones caught in it," one of the others said tearfully.

"Don’t cry," Meia said, forcing another soft smile. "We’re fine…we’ll be fine."

"We found the bad alien’s body," Dita said, her voice strained. "Oh, what you and fukuchou-san must’ve had to go through…!"

Meia closed her eyes, unable to take Dita’s near-frantic tone.

"We’re fine," she repeated, as if by rote. "We’ll be fine."

Time passed gradually. People left, returning to their stations. At times Meia slept, and at others she lay awake, staring at the ceiling. At one point she fell asleep, and when she woke up she found herself alone in the room.

She blinked blankly at the bed BC had been in before. Now it was neatly made, awaiting a new patient. A sudden feeling of panic settled into her skin. She felt a lump rise in her throat. Surely BC couldn’t have…it was only a broken leg…the bleeding wasn’t that bad…

"Doctor!" She couldn’t contain the frantic note in her voice, or the way her eyes flew to meet his as he came quickly back into the room. "Doctor…fukuchou is…?"

"Ah, if it’s the sub-commander you’re worried about, she returned to her own quarters," Duero said. Like BC, he had an incredibly even, soothing tone.

"With that wound?" Meia frowned, even as she felt her panic fading. BC was alive. She was alive.

"She insisted," Duero said, with a frown of his own. He obviously disapproved of this choice. "I made her agree to remain in her bed, but she said she’d rather be there, so she could at least use her comm panel to catch up on the ship’s situation and speak with the boss."

Meia couldn’t help the breath of relief that sighed through her slim frame, shaking her like a leaf in the wind. BC was alive, and well enough that she was back to her usual, all-business self.

"She’s all right. She’ll be all right?" Her eyes focused on Duero’s again, demanding a straight answer.

"She’ll be fine, with adequate rest," Duero said, still sounding disapproving.

When Meia only smiled, unspeakably relieved, Duero rubbed his chin and mused aloud, possibly to himself, "The sub-commander is a very interesting person. So stubborn…and private."

"Private?" Meia asked automatically, although as soon as it was out of her mouth she regretted it. She knew BC was private. She was always there to lend an ear to anyone in need, to listen endlessly to other people’s problems. But she never spoke about herself. She never offered her own problems for anyone else’s scrutiny. She was rarely even seen away from the bridge…

"Mm, a very stubborn patient," Duero continued, his frown deepening. "She insisted that we not touch her clothing, despite how torn and bloody it was. She said it was a matter of ‘female privacy.’"

Meia lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing. Even with a wound like that, BC had been stubborn enough to make the doctor work around her clothing, rather than simply exchanging it for a proper medical robe? Private indeed…

"Perhaps one day I will fully understand the relationship between men and women," Duero said, almost certainly to himself, as he turned to go to his computer station. Meia watched as he sat down and turned his back to her, then let herself smile slightly.

Her smile faded as she realized her predicament. Of all things in life, the thing she hated most was being indebted to anyone. More than once on their strange, unisexual journey she had found herself in the position of owing a life debt to a man, to Hibiki. Now she found herself in the same position with the sub-commander. She would have to repay BC somehow, without losing her own pride anymore than she already had.

She gritted her teeth, frustrated. Ever since the men had come here, and the long battle with the unknown enemy had begun, it seemed as though she had grown weaker in some respects even as, in others, she grew stronger. She had thought she was improving…she was slowly learning to trust, to allow other people close to her; she was becoming a better fighter, and learning that she couldn’t handle the weight of the entire universe on her own, especially when it came to battle.

But she was still so weak. At times she could still be so useless.

Maybe…maybe the best thing to do, in an effort to repay her, would be to go to BC and confess how she felt. Maybe if she aired out the weakness, let it be known to the person she was so ashamed to have performed so badly before…maybe that would make a good first step.

With that settled in her mind, she lay back, closing her eyes and waiting again for sleep to claim her, relieved at the heavy feeling of the sedative still circulating in her system.

*****

END PART ONE