Stained Glass

Chapter 4: In Judas We Trust

"All I'm saying is, that girl needs to check herself before she tries to come for me again, otherwise I'll deck her the moment she gets in my face and starts fogging up my aviators."

"She's not that bad, Cassie. She's just a bit temperamental."

A snort. "A bit, Jacqui? For someone who's got cryomantic powers, Frost's such a hot-headed b****. I can't understand how Sub-Zero can put up with her s*** …"

The conversation between Sergeant Cassie Cage and Specialist Jacqui Briggs continued, and Kung Jin rolled his eyes impressively as he listened to them. He had half a mind to pull out his MP3 player and listen to some music so that he would not have to hear their chitchat, but he decided against the idea – the device's battery was sitting on 83% or thereabouts, and the Shaolin monk did not want to waste its power whilst his team waited in one of S-F's lounges. It was going to be a long trip to Shenzhen, so the device was only going to be used to wile away the hours on the plane as they flew to their destination.

Blowing out a weary sigh and resting his chin in the palm of his hand, Jin looked across the table at Takahashi Takeda, who was fiddling with the ends of his head-band.

"Never mind the Grandmaster putting up with Frost," the bowman muttered to him. "At least he doesn't have to put up with these girls when they start yacking their mouths off."

Takeda's eyes rolled this time, but he also smiled. "Give them a break, Jin. At least they're not arguing about Mr Cage like they did the last time."

"S'pose you're right about that," Jin conceded. "They yelled at each other from New York to Geneva all because Jacqui called Mr Cage hot. Geneva Conventions be damned, it felt like World War 3 was about to go down."

The Shirai Ryu chuckled. "I don't even know if Cassie ever forgave Jacqui after that."

"She must have if they're talking right now."

"That's good," said Takeda. "It's better to just forgive, forget and move on."

A dreamy expression bloomed across his face as he looked in the girls' direction, his dark eyes falling on the specialist. "Besides, I could listen to Jacqui talk all day …"

His friend raised an eyebrow.

"Whatever floats your boat, Takeda," he replied. "She could talk about sewage and you'd still find it attractive."

The Shirai Ryu shook his head. "There's not a romantic bone in your body, huh, Jin?"

The bowman was about to answer with a most witheringly dry retort when Cassie's voice rung out:

"Takeda, Jin, I got a message from my dad. He says the plane's arrived at the cargo bay. The pilot's gonna take a breather for half an hour, but we can start boarding in the meantime."

The four team-mates picked up their hand luggage, which a S-F soldier was going to take to the plane for them. As the girls passed the young men, Jacqui stopped and smiled at Takeda, who responded with a beaming grin of his own. It practically shone as he received a kiss on the cheek before the specialist walked off to catch up with Cassie.

"I guess you're not sitting next to me on the plane, then," Jin remarked.

Takeda, still beaming, patted his friend's shoulder. "On the next flight, we will," he said. "I promise."

"Promise, eh?" replied the monk, smiling knowingly. "Like you promised to teach me how to use your whip-chains? I'm still waiting for that to happen, Takahashi."

The Shirai Ryu shrugged, looking sheepish.

"Trust me, Jin," he said. "On the next flight home, we'll share seats. Then the whip-chains training will start after."

He patted his shoulder again. "Let's get outta here."

Satisfied with the promise, and mollified by his warm touch, Kung Jin allowed Takeda to lead him by the arm out of the lounge.

"Mmmph …"

Pain.

Kung Jin could feel a dull pain aching beneath his chest. Twinges of this painful sensation could be felt in every part of his body, coursing through his veins at a rapid rate. His limbs, stiff though they were, throbbed sorely – with every beat that his heart drummed out, the throbbing intensified. Moans passed his lips. Eyes squeezed shut, keeping the sting of tears at bay, he pressed the side of his face into what seemed like soft, cool material, but its comfort did nothing to relieve him.

It hurts … oh Elder Gods, it hurts …

"Unghh …"

"Jin?"

He barely heard the low voice the first time around.

"Heeugh …"

"Jin? Jin."

This time, the Shaolin monk heard the voice softly speak his name. Thereafter, something warm touched the top of his shoulder, pressing into his skin gently.

"Mmm … Ta … Take … da …"

"Jin," the voice spoke again. "Wake up …"

Rolling his head so that it was lying back on the material (a pillow?), Jin let his closed eyelids relax despite his discomfort. Breathing deeply yet at a hastened pace, he slowly began to open his eyes; they fluttered more than a few times, for his vision was blurred. All he saw was the hazy shape of a face staring down at him.

"Ta … keda," he moaned again. "Cas … sie …"

It was with another flutter that Jin's vision finally cleared.

… huh? Who …?

It was, the bowman could see, the face of a man. Dirty-blonde hair framed his tanned, smooth visage. In the center was a birdish nose; sitting beneath it were lips that were soft, pink and a little plump, contrasting with the sharpness of his cheek-bones and the sturdiness of his jawline. Above the nose were eyes the colour of lapis lazuli. They crinkled ever so slightly as they met the bemused, golden-brown eyes of Jin's. He pressed the monk's shoulder with his warm fingers again.

"It's okay, kid," he murmured. "You're safe."

Jin stared blankly up at the man, ignoring the increased twinges.

"Who … are you?" he asked, his voice husky. His throat was hoarse and dry for some reason.

The man blinked.

"It's me, Junior," he answered simply.

Whether it was the familiar bass twang of his voice, the monk's gaze falling upon the tally-marked scars that were etched into the other man's arms, or the name "Junior" slipping off his tongue that made Jin recognise the person looking over him, one could not say.

But it was in that moment that he realised who exactly he was dealing with.

"Black," Jin whispered.

Erron Black nodded, pulling on a blonde strand.

"No mask this time," he stated. "Uh, strange, I know."

The Shaolin monk's eyes widened.

"Black," he whispered again, a hint of dread creeping into his tone. His breathing quickened.

Erron's eyebrows furrowed. "Junior?"

Jin did not respond. In spite of his body's protests, he sluggishly sat up, the blanket falling to show his upper body, and Erron's hand slipped off his shoulder. He propped himself on his elbows, feeling the coil of bed-springs beneath them. His eyes were fixed on the former Earthrealmer; his chest rose and fell with every tremulous breath he exhaled.

"Black, you …" the bowman whimpered. "You …"

"Easy now, kid," Erron said lowly, sensing his growing anxiety. "Don't excite yourself …"

He began to reach out with his hand, but he stopped when Jin shrunk away.

"You," he breathed heavily, rising to a pant. "You killed …"

It was all coming back to him: the plane grounded at the cargo bay … Cassie Cage and Jacqui Briggs walking ahead of him on the tarmac … Takeda walking briskly so that he could catch up to them, making it so that the bowman could quicken his pace … Jin breaking out into an amused smile at his friend's actions …

… a smile that immediately disappeared when the first shot was fired …

Cassie crying out, blood pouring forth from her body …

… his mouth opened to yell her name when the second shot was fired …

Jacqui falling face-first onto the platform, her blood seeping out around her …

… his body turned to the side so that he could warn the Shirai Ryu when three more shots were fired …

Takeda's face splattered with scarlet ichor as his eyes took the fourth shot …

… until he finally turned around to see the face of the assailant, when the final shot was fired …

A shock erupting throughout his body as he felt the bullet entering his chest, before it transformed into the most excruciating pain that he had ever felt in his life …

… and whenever his eyes fluttered open, all he saw was his face staring down at him …

The pain he felt then, the pain he felt in-between the waking and fading, and the pain he felt now as he looked into the face of –

"You," Kung Jin gasped, "killed my team."

Erron said nothing.

"My team … they're dead," Jin said, his voice rising.

His aching body protested once more as he pushed himself up in the bed. His eyes were darkening like the sky being overcome by storm-clouds. "You murdered my friends. They're all dead …"

Panic laced his every word, and Erron knew that an anxiety attack was slowly but surely taking hold of the monk. To his dismay, he noticed that blood had begun to seep through the thin fabric of the wounded man's bandages, and it was doing so at a fast speed.

At this rate, he's gonna bleed himself to death.

"Kid, you need to calm down now," said the gun-slinger as gently as he could, leaning down towards the Earthrealmer. "The less panicky you are, the more – OOF!"

The Shaolin monk's foot connected with Erron's crotch before the cowboy could even register the other man moving his leg from underneath the comforter. He fell to his knees as curses flew past his lips, the pain practically unbearable as it surged through his frame. It very well nearly distracted him from seeing Jin throwing the covers off him and hurriedly swinging his body over the other side of the bed.

The groan that the archer gave as he attempted to get up managed to draw Erron's attention almost instantly – through a pained squint, he could see Jin's body bending forward, wrapping his arms around himself. Indeed, as he did this, Jin became aware that there were bandages covering his bare chest. He saw the ever-growing patch spreading out across the white fabric, sending a copper scent up towards his nose.

But he could not afford to dwell on this for another second.

"Junior," Erron grunted from the other side of the bed.

Jin's head snapped back up. Without looking at the mercenary, he lifted himself off the bed. Trying his best to ignore the pounding beneath his chest, he trudged his way towards the door. The stiffness of his limbs and the intense throbbing slowed his movements, but it did not douse the thought that blared in his mind:

Get yourself out of here, Jin.

"Junior," Erron's voice was louder now as he struggled to get up from the floor. "Jin, wait!"

Get out now.

There was a key in the door's key-hole: Jin turned it, unlocking the door. As he pulled the door open, the Shaolin monk deigned to look over his shoulder; he saw Erron placing his hands on the bed to push himself up. Breathing rapidly, Jin turned away and walked out of the room.

"Damn it, kid, wait!" cursed Erron as he managed to get to his feet. He hissed as he lumbered towards the door – balancing himself in the door frame, he peered out to his left and saw that Jin was more than halfway down the corridor. However, his head hung low as he took uneven steps, reaching out towards the wall with his arm every few seconds to steady himself. His laboured pants echoed in the passageway.

The gunshot wound's slowing him down. The kid ain't gonna get that far.

But he's full of f****** surprises, the former Earthrealmer thought, the pain between his legs still lingering something fierce.

Wresting himself away from the door frame, he walked unsteadily after the bowman. "Jin, stop!"

But Jin did not plan on stopping. The Elder Gods knew he wanted to get away from the mercenary as fast as his legs could carry him. He had no idea where he was (somewhere in Kotal Kahn's palace?), but he sure as hell knew that he needed to escape.

I need to get back to the Special Forces Headquarters. The general has got to know what had happened by now.

Cassie's body flying back … Jacqui collapsing … Takeda's blood flying forth …

He shut his eyes, his hand finding the wall to calm his nerves. His heart was thumping in his throat, so much so that he could feel a metallic taste on his tongue …

"Get back here right now!"

It very well nearly exploded as Erron's voice rung out like a gunshot. With a gasp, and holding a hand to his chest, the blood wetting his palm and fingers, Jin nearly tripped over his own feet as he continued to struggle in his lagged steps. Behind him, he could hear the other man's faltering footsteps reverberating.

"You're gonna die, kid," Erron yelled, "if you don't stop moving!"

But Jin kept moving regardless. He had to get out of here.

He had to –

"Ungh!"

The Shaolin monk nearly fell backwards when he collided hard with goodness knows what. Stumbling a little with another gasp, he looked up and saw a blood-red dot.

No. A blood-red eye.

An eye that stared right back down at him.

Before Jin could make any sudden movements, the massive arms of Torr enclosed around his waist. It was not a tight grip, but the pain that he already felt seemed to increase by a ten-fold. A cry issued forth from the back of his throat as the brute tightened his hold, lifting him off the ground and pressing him to his chest.

"Augh!" he yelled, feeling like his life was being squeezed out of him. "Let me go!"

"Torr, put him down!"

Torr's eye flitted over Jin's shoulder as Erron came into sight. Although he looked to be ailing, the former Earthrealmer looked just as determined. He held up his hands in a beseeching manner.

"Torr," he said, "put the monk down."

"Hmph," chirruped a light voice, and Ferra's head appeared next to Torr's. Her auburn eyes were narrowed as she used her partner's shoulders to lift herself higher and look at Jin's anguished face. "Looks to we like Skinny try escape."

She brought her face closer to the Shaolin monk's. "Big Bossy no want him go from here."

"I was getting to that before he, uh, got a fright," Erron said, mustering up a calm tone.

He reached out to touch Torr's forearm. "Now tell Torr to release him so that I can take him back to my room. He's hurt enough as is."

Ferra shook her head.

"We take Skinny back to Bang-bang's room," she declared. "Skinny try escape again, and we no trust you to do job."

Torr gave an affirmative grunt, adding another squeeze for good measure – the bowman gave an unholy groan, his head tipping back in agony. A dizzying sensation was beginning to stir up, making him see spots in his vision.

"Let … me …" he choked, his voice trailing off into a whimper.

"Hey, cut it out," Erron seethed. "Junior's a bleeding mess already. Don't make it any worse for him. Loosen your damn grip."

Ferra giggled.

"Junior no Skinny's name," she cooed. "He no baby."

"Ferra," Erron rumbled, his blue eyes becoming aflame. "Loosen. The. Grip. Now."

The girl stared at him; Torr breathed heavily, the edges of his cloth moving in and out. His eye darted from the woozy monk to his gun-slinging comrade and back again.

Finally, Ferra gave a sigh.

"You no fun, Bang-bang," she grumbled. "Losamak houma, Torr."

At once, Torr relaxed his grip. Jin felt his body being relieved of some pressure. Inhaling precious air, he began to squirm in the Outworlder's arms.

"Let me go," he wheezed. "Let me go right now …"

"Shut up, Junior – ugh, Jin," Erron barked. "You'll hurt yourself more if you carry on like this."

To Ferra/Torr, he said, "Follow me."

And so, carrying the flailing monk, the girl and the brute followed behind Erron – who walked easily now – down the corridor. They reached his bedroom, and, seeing the Outworld cowboy gesture with his head towards the spare bed, Ferra jumped off her partner's back and said, "Siti af."

Torr nodded. He marched to the bed and, in a none too gentle manner, dropped the Shaolin monk onto it. Jin yelled for the world to hear as his back hit the mattress, his pain temporarily paralysing his form – all he could do was emit groans and writhe in sheer discomfort. Erron's skin grew cold at the sight, but he inwardly reminded himself that he would not have to restrain the bowman as a result.

He can't get up if he tried.

There was a tug on his shirt. Looking down, Erron's eyes met that of Ferra's. Her mouth was set in a pout.

"Big Bossy say we give Bang-bang his shoot-shoots back," she said as she reached up behind her back and removed Erron's guns from her holster.

Her comrade said nothing, quietly taking the guns from her hands. It felt good to have his weapons back; the weight of them pressed into his palms and his fingers caressing the triggers gave him a sense of relief.

Another shot or two of whiskey and I'll be the happiest f***** alive.

"You make sure he no go?" asked Ferra, glaring at Erron.

He nodded. "No go."

Ferra nodded as well before barking something to Torr. The brute left Jin's bedside – there was a noticeable scarlet stain on the front of his broad chest – and ambled over to his partner's side; using his left arm as leverage, she climbed onto his back, gripping his shoulders with her hands. With another incomprehensible order, Ferra/Torr stomped out of the room, the brute's heavy footsteps echoing in the corridor.

When they were gone, Erron holstered his guns into the waistband of his pants and went to lock the door. This time, he put the key into his pants' pocket. Then, he turned to the other man. Jin's movements had slowed down, but the agitation and pain were still there as evidenced by his wheezing and the spasmodic rising and falling of his chest. His bandages were just about soaked through, red and damp. His eyes were wide with fear and choler – they widened further as the mercenary slowly approached the bed.

"Stay back," he growled in a strangled tone. He sat up, his head and shoulders pressed against the wall. "Don't you come anywhere near me."

"Kid, I'm not in the mood to play around," Erron warned as he drew nearer, automatically touching the top of his guns.

Jin flinched, shrinking back even further if that was possible. Erron saw this, and his hands dropped to his sides.

"Your wound's acting up some," he said in what he hoped was a low, soothing voice. "I just want to check on it."

"Don't you even think of touching me, scumbag," hissed Jin, a scowl full of hate crossing his fair features. "You'll regret it if you do."

Too late for regret.

Too late to take everything back …

Erron sat on the end of the bed; he looked up at Jin, who straight away drew his legs up (the former was wary of them as is). The gun-slinger dug his fingers into the material of his pants.

"Jin," he tried again, "you're bleeding too much. The healer won't be around for another hour or so. If you keep still and not get excited, you won't bleed as much."

"And whose fault is that?" thundered the Shaolin monk, touching his chest, his hand coated in another layer of blood. "Who's responsible for this happening in the first place?"

"Jin, I –"

But Jin cut him off.

"You killed my team, Black!" he shouted, his husky voice reverberating around the room. "You waltzed into Earthrealm and killed them all! And you tried to kill me, too!"

"I had my orders from the Kahn –" started Erron, but Jin interrupted him again.

"Yet you couldn't even finish the job!" he yelled. "You shot me, and you brought me to goddamn Outworld!"

"You were dying. I had to get you medical attention –"

"But why?!"demanded Jin. "Why the hell did you bring me to Outworld?! Why did you shoot me only to turn around and try to save me?! Why didn't you end my life back in Earthrealm when you had the friggin' chance?!"

Here, the monk lowered his voice, his words dripping with venom. His immaculate face contorted into an expression of absolute hatred.

"You tried to kill me," he uttered darkly. "Why didn't you leave me to die …?"

Cassie's once lively eyes, now dulled … Jacqui's arm muscles rippling, now stilled … Takeda's smile, now gone …

A lump appeared in Jin's throat. His heart beat against the wall of his chest, sending trickles of blood into the creases of his bandages.

Lives living, now ended by bullets …

Feeling the pin-prick of tears in the corners of his eyes, Jin stared hard at Erron,

"Why didn't you kill me?" he whispered.

Silence.

The gun-slinger pursed his lips, considering the other man's question.

Jin continued staring, waiting for the answer.

Hoping that the tears would not fall …

Then, Erron looked straight into Jin's eyes, not blinking as he responded:

"God alone knows."

The Shaolin monk gaped at him. "What?"

Erron repeated himself. "God alone knows."

Jin could not believe what he was hearing. A few seconds later, anger once again reared its ugly head as he glared at the man.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean, God alone knows?" he snarled. "That doesn't tell me a damn thing about why you didn't kill me! I need a proper reason, Black, do you understand?"

"What I need you to understand," stated Erron steadily yet firmly, "is that I don't know why I didn't kill you."

The bowman was silenced.

"I don't know why," the former Earthrealmer said again, more to himself than the kid. "I don't know why I didn't kill you … I don't know …"

Jin was still silent. He took in the details of the mercenary's form. Never had he seen him without his mask, his eye black that shaded the lids of his blue orbs, the bandolier-strapped hat, the countless other bandoliers strapped onto other parts of his body, his Western-cum-gun-slinging gear and attire …

Never had he seen him so … human.

This man, with his simple shirt and pants … his tousled blonde hair … his fine-looking features … his naked blue eyes, large and thoughtful …

A human being.

No.

An Earthrealm traitor.

A killer.

"I don't believe you," Jin muttered, anger crossing his features once more. "You kept me alive for some reason. My team …"

He exhaled a shaky breath; his eyes began to burn with salt.

"My friends," he said softly, "are all gone because of you. I'm still alive because of you."

He barked out a harsh laugh. "But you? You don't know why? How am I supposed to believe such a weak excuse?"

Erron had a feeling that the Shaolin monk would react this way. Much like Kotal Kahn had similarly reacted earlier in the throne room, the kid was in disbelief about his actions. And for the life of him, even the Outworld cowboy could not understand why he had done what he did that had brought them to this point in time.

I had him on the ground … on the edge of death … my revolver aiming for his forehead …

I wanted him dead.

But I never pulled the trigger because …

Because …

Erron moved up on the bed. Jin kept still, the back of his body aching from the hardness of the wall. A dribble of blood ran down his stomach.

"Jin, I want you to listen to me nicely now," the mercenary spoke gravely. "I don't know why I didn't kill you. That's the only reason I can give you at this time. But I'm telling you now, if you try to run away from the palace or make contact with Earthrealm, you will die. The emperor will have no qualms about having you killed."

Jin opened his mouth, but then he shut it again.

The bass register of the other man somehow managed to drop lower.

"But if you stay here in this room," he continued, "if you stay by my side at all times, I guarantee that you will remain safe. Reptile, Ermac, Ferra/Torr, the emperor himself … I won't let them lay a finger on you."

If it had been another person, maybe Jin would have been soothed by the words he was hearing.

But he could not be soothed – he would not.

Clean-cut and gentle in appearance, but this man's the devil through and through.

Jin shook his head.

"You're full of s***," he responded heatedly. "You think I'll let you so-called protect me from Kotal Kahn by keeping me imprisoned here against my will? How do I know that you won't slash my throat when I'm not looking, huh? Or that you'll let your buddies finish what you started?"

"Kid, if that was my intention all along, you wouldn't be alive right now," Erron replied evenly, watching another sliver of blood run down the monk's stomach. "Torr would have killed you by now if I hadn't been there."

"None of this would have happened if you hadn't been in Earthrealm," Jin retorted.

He followed Erron's gaze and saw the bloody lines painted on his stomach. Normally he was self-conscious about letting other people see too much of his bare skin … and too much of his emotions, as a matter of fact. It had been that way ever since he was a child.

When I was old enough to realise how some people don't give a damn …

The bowman smeared the lines with his fingers, trailing the digits across his midriff. Five streaks, like slashes from a gauntlet, decorated the area. Erron watched him, his mouth set in a firm line. It remained so as Jin looked up at him, holding up a stained hand.

"If you could do something like this to me, how do you expect me to believe that you can help me?" he murmured.

Erron glanced at the hand before turning his attention back to Jin. Those eyes of his were swirling with a variety of emotions, layered with a sheet of tears that threatened to fall. It was a far cry from the way they burned at the Kove and at the S-F cargo bay. It was most certainly a far cry from when the two men first met at the market-place, when the Asian man had been full of confidence and persuasion, his eyes brimming with liveliness.

His blood's on your hands, Black.

You broke him.

The only thing you can do is try to fix him …

"Jin, all I can ask you to do," answered Erron Black, "is to have faith in me."

Kung Jin ogled him. He lips parted out of confusion.

"Have faith in you?" he repeated, lowering his hand. "What kind of f –"

"If you wanna survive, then that's what you'll have to damn well do," Erron cut him off sternly. "That's the only way you're gonna avoid going six feet under."

He held out his hand, the movement slow and steady so that the monk would not get startled. The latter watched the movement very closely.

"Faith is a funny word, Junior," Erron murmured. "Not a word that I normally use, but right now it's all you got."

Jin regarded the hand in front of him – long, lean and slightly calloused fingers outstretched. They had been warm against his shoulder.

But they had been cold when they were wrapped around the revolver …

The Shaolin monk looked up from the hand to glare at its owner once more, trying his damndest to prevent his tears from flowing.

"After you killed my friends … when you tried to kill me … you seriously expect me to just dump my trust in your lap, for God's sake?" he spat.

Erron sighed as he withdrew his hand. He touched the scars on his left arm, tracing the tally marks. One, two, three, four strokes and then the fifth stroke cut across them.

One, two, three …

… and four to go.

"You will be greater than all the others", she used to read to me …

"I don't expect you to trust me right away," he replied at last.

He paused.

"And certainly not for the sake of God."

A/N: Losamak houma = "Loosen hold"; Siti af = "Put down."

Guest - Ja no, I feel bad for both of them, too, but more for Jin at this moment just because of what's going on in this chapter - the poor dear is going through too much trauma right now. Although you gotta feel for Erron because his mother did act a bit nasty to him. Sorry for the decade-late update, and thank you for the compliment! ^-^

NaruHinaLuvr13 - *Hugs* Thank you, sweets, you say the nicest things. :D I'm sorry that I'm only replying to you now after all this time. Hope you're well!

Hijanka - Hee hee, it took me a while to get that chapter up, and it took even longer for this one to appear. ^-^;; But I'm glad that you're enjoying the story so far. If I can motivate myself properly and have more time, I'd be able to put out more chapters. Watch this space. ;)

I'm sorry for the late updates, this year is still being a monster and a half. And I know I said the third chapter for Past The Point Of No Return was going to come out a long time ago, but I kept putting off the writing - this week I'm actually gonna do some sitting down and write for it. Hope this chapter made up for the wait - as well Jin kicking Erron in the ol' fruit and nuts.

*~AI07~* :)