Category: Cyborg 009
Rating: PG
Genre: General Drama/Fluff
Summary: Albert tries to get into Jet's head.
Hand Me Down
The group was just beginning to settle down for supper at Doctor Kozumi's. Zero-Zero-Six had put on quite the meal using an array of different spices and foods to form several dishes that appealed to both nose and eye.
But despite the appetizing entrée the Chinese chef had thrown together not everyone was ready to eat. When he noticed that the group's numbers were short he felt that he should do something to take care of the loose ends: it was the same group of brooding cyborgs that had also skipped on lunch, and probably on breakfast, as well. There was no point in just letting them starve themselves, and it was a proven fact that good food made happy cyborgs.
"Zero-Zero-Six," Françoise had pulled the man from his thoughts, holding a plate partially filled with food in one hand and a fork in the other, "This really is great. Why aren't you eating?"
He smiled at the compliment gingerly. "Well, I think I should round up the rest of our little troupe first, or bring them some at the very least. Zero-Zero-Eight, would you mind spooning up a couple of plates while I go off and make some tea?"
Pyunma, with his fork halfway to his mouth, stopped right away. "Of course. How many should I make?"
"Three will do, thank you," leaving the feasting group to their own, Zero-Zero-Six returned to the kitchen. In his mind he went over what would be best for the troubled members of the group: Zero-Zero-Nine preferred a well brewed green tea as apposed to anything else, and Zero-Zero-Four seemed to like peppermint, though he didn't really give any preference. Zero-Zero-Two had made it a known fact that he didn't care for anything other than what was carbonated and came in a can so any soda would do.
It was a shame how those boys just wasted themselves away like they did, Chang thought. Every day was spent lost in their own heads, trying to make sense out of fate's pieces that didn't fit together anyway. They were three intelligent men who really needed some form of support. They were the primary leaders of the group mind Zero-Zero-One, but who was there to fall back on when the leaders couldn't even keep themselves sane?
Joe was understandable. The ninth cyborg was living a life of terror and he wasn't even old enough to be having a mid-life crisis yet. He was just a child compared to some of the others and already he had been accused of murder. It was hard to get details out of him concerning his past, but it wasn't something Zero-Zero-Six envied, that was for sure.
And at the same age of Joe Shimamura was Jet Link. He refused to share his personal history, feelings, or current demons with anyone. There were the obvious things that could be figured out about the American misfit: he was probably raised on the street with an unhappy childhood. Both times he ever mentioned his parents he spoke hatefully about them; almost as though speaking about them left a bitter taste in his mouth. Albert was the only person who dared to pry into Jet's head, and that was because everyone else was afraid of striking a bad cord with the young man. Still, it was clear that he needed to be able to involve some one in his life. Not doing so would likely end in tragedy.
"Need some help with that, my friend?" Dr. Kozumi asked Chang as he entered the small kitchen, noticing the four teapots boiling consistently over the stove.
"That's very kind of you, sir, but I have everything under control. These two pots go out to the dinner table for the others, this one to Joe, and this one to Albert. Oh, that reminds me..." Chang left the stove to dig through the small icebox. He rummaged until he found a sealed can of soda and took it.
"It seems to me that you have your hands full, but perhaps I should let you all tend to your own agenda. Everyone here clearly likes to do their own work."
"Well, being busy keeps the heart at ease," Zero-Zero-Six said, "Strangely enough most of those people out there are quite productive when they have something disturbing on their minds. They work to keep the stress at bay."
"Well, I do hope that keeping it at bay doesn't cause it to boil over," the Doctor replied wisely. "If you need one, there is a larger carrying tray underneath the stove."
When Zero-Zero-Six left the house he knew the places to look for his quarry. Two cyborgs would always be on shift, and Zero-Zeros Two and Nine were always anxious to take on the watch duty of the other members of the team. One post was in the gorge where they'd first encountered Zero-Zero-Ten Plus and the other was at the bay. Not a far walk from the house to the locations, but it allowed the teenagers to separate themselves from their peers.
But first was the overhang near the house that protruded over the ocean. It was the usual thinking place for those who weren't fast enough to beat either Joe or Jet at getting extra guard duty. It was quite secluded despite being in immediate view of the house and was the perfect place for Zero-Zero-Four to reside.
It was quite perverse how Albert, the most willing to share his thoughts and opinions to most anyone who asked, was still the most enigmatic person in the party. He just seemed quite haunted all the time whether it by memories or fears. He was probably the most adjusted with his new cybernetic components - which was good; it was unlikely he'd be getting his own hand back any time soon. Still, Chang had the itching suspicion that not everything was what it seemed with the thirty-year-old.
"Zero-Zero-Four?" the Chinese man asked as quietly as he could in case Albert was feeling particularly jumpy today.
When the German turned around Chang caught a mere glimpse of his face. He looked distracted, lonely. The expression was quickly replaced with a new one, however. Albert grinned warmly and so convincingly that if Chang wasn't any wiser he'd think it was authentic.
"Hey. Is that for me?"
"This one is. I threw together a hot plate for you and some tea, just in case you weren't intentionally trying to miss supper."
Albert laughed under his breath. "Nah, I could eat. You should have just called me back, though. We all have these transmitters in our heads for a reason."
"Yes, but I figured you and our solemn teenagers could use the time to yourselves. Besides, the walk doesn't bother me any. It's nice to get out of the house and kitchen every so often."
"I appreciate it."
"No problem at all. Well, I'm off to cater Zero-Zero-Nine and Zero-Zero-Two. Hopefully they are in as good a mood as you are. I really don't feel like being subjected to another one of Zero-Zero-Two's verbal onslaughts tonight."
Albert shook his head, putting his plate down next to him. "I'll take it. He went further down the coast last I saw him, and he's in the opposite direction of Joe. Besides," the man began to really smile, "Jet's in a bitchy mood today."
Chang had to laugh at the statement. "Well, you eat first and I'll leave his food with you, then. Don't be afraid to come back to the house if you're still hungry. If the others haven't left anything I can always make more."
"Thanks a lot," Albert said as his friend turned and left, hoisting the large tray with just some tea and a single plate of food on it. The things that poor man put himself through so he could help the esteem of his teammates...
Heinrich sat there, finishing up his meal as quickly as he could before Jet's food cooled too much. Truth was that Jet was in one of his aggressive moods today, but Albert found himself quite able to handle anything the kid threw at him. Still, being insulted directly wasn't something he enjoyed much, but better he himself go than anybody else.
The second cyborg was actually a lot further along the coastline than Albert had even remembered. He was on the brink of giving up his search when he managed to spot a yellow scarf being whipped with the ocean breeze.
When approached Jet only glared daggers at Albert. For some reason the mere presence of the man made him upset. Not necessarily angry he had once realized, just upset. That just confused him even more, so he decided simply hating the smug German would be easier.
"Zero-Zero-Six had me bring this around to you," he explained, tipping the plate slightly.
"I'm not hungry."
"Well, that's a problem for you. I'm not leaving until you eat it." He grinned at the teenager's glowering look, knowing he had pushed the right buttons while at the same time getting the kid to eat. Jet, having become accustomed to how things worked with Albert, took the plate and soda. The sooner he'd succumb to it the sooner he'd be left alone.
What he didn't like was the fact that the other man sat down and started to get comfortable. This was the cue for another lecture coming up...
"Jet, I think-"
"Don't want to talk now."
Albert wasn't so much miffed as he normally would be. Jet didn't open up to anybody, but Albert still liked to think he was getting close to finding some sort of crack or weakness in the teen's emotional barrier. True, he had gotten farther than any other that he knew of, but it wasn't far enough. Jet had so much pent up anger within him that he had probably been carrying for most of his life, and just bearing the burden could become too much. For some reason Albert felt that it was his responsibility to tap into that rage and release it, or shoulder some of it himself - he didn't care. All that seemed to be happening for now, though, was Jet venting on anybody who dared get too close.
He watched as the young man stabbed at the pieces of shrimp about his plate, focused directly on that task and nothing else. He didn't like being watched, and Zero-Zero-Four examining his every move was not settling with him.
"If you're going to stare at me you can at least have the decency to act like you're not."
"Well, if you already know I'm watching then that would defeat the purpose of acting, wouldn't it?"
"Go away," he growled, still not looking up to meet those hollow blue eyes. It happened every time he switched glances with Zero-Zero-Four: he'd see those eyes and start pouring his soul out for no apparent reason, divulging every raw emotion and thought in his head with no limit in sight... Well, not tonight. Tonight Jet wanted to be pissed off at the world and everyone in it, and there was no way he was going to let this guy take away his right to.
"Secluding yourself isn't going to make it go away, you know," Albert probed on, knowing that Jet understood what he was talking about, "It will always get worse if you just sit back and let it."
"So I should just publicize whatever I'm thinking every time you ask me to? Letting the whole damn world know your personal angst may be helpful for you, but I don't work like that."
"So you use the method of climbing deeper and deeper within yourself every time somebody tries to understand what you're going through. You're so determined to keep other people out of your life that you'd be willing to ruin everything to stop them-"
"Shut up."
"-including your life and theirs'. Well, here's something for you to think about, Jet: maybe, just maybe, there is a person who cares enough to risk getting themselves hurt by you so that you don't have an emotional breakdown-"
"I said shut up!"
"-that will end up scarring you for life. Stop being so damn self centered and try to see that picture instead of wallowing in your self pity like-"
"Stop it!"
"-an arrogant child."
The gleam off the super gun silenced the conversation. Albert fell silent when Jet withdrew his weapon and aimed it right at the spot between those blueeyes, leaving only the humming noise of the gun's charge audible. At first his voice wouldn't come, but upon seeing how disturbed Jet looked Albert finally managed to speak up.
"If you think that will make things better," he said, looking past the tip of the weapon and at the face of the one wielding it. There were mixed emotions in the American's eyes: fear, hope, hate, loneliness. Albert recognized all these and proceeded on with a softer, more accepting tone. "then go ahead. Personally, I think it will only go downhill in the long run, but if you're determined to make things better in the "here" and "now", then fire away."
Jet was quick to holster the super gun when his mind caught up with his actions. He wondered how Zero-Zero-Four somehow always managed to get such a rise out of him; how he was read into so easily by the German despite all efforts to keep him out. A heavy weight in his chest twisted his stomach, and his discarded plate of scarcely touched food hardly looked appealing anymore.
"Get out of my life," he said simply, definitely, before turning around and triggering his thrusters, prepared to disappear into the night by air.
Albert watched as the session ended as it normally did: Jet running away from the conflict thinking it was the only way to protect himself. Albert didn't know why he expected it to turn out differently this time. This was all that Jet knew having been raised in the manner he was. But still, Albert had hoped that maybe this time he'd be able to at least get past some of the troubled teen's defenses and a bit closer to finding the kids inner angst.
He went and collected the abandoned plate with a sigh. How idealistic of him to think that maybe this time would be different.
"Wow. I thought he might actually eat some of it before deciding he didn't like it," Zero-Zero-Six said disappointedly when he found Zero-Zero-Four taking the dishes to the kitchen, Jet's plate still full.
"Don't worry. It was me who set him off, not your cooking."
"Ah, so he had another temper flare then?"
"If you can call a provoked form of emotional defense a "temper flare", then, yes, I suppose so." Putting the dishes in the sink carefully - the house was dark, so it was likely somebody was sleeping nearby - Zero-Zero-Four played back the things said between him and Jet, wondering if he had played it differently if the outcome would change. "I don't know. Maybe I just shouldn't-"
"Now, don't you start on like that," the Chinese man scolded him haughtily, "If you start doubting the situation, just imagine how Jet'll feel. You've gotten through to that boy, and just giving up on him now would be like a door of hope closing because he hesitated."
"I feel like I should be doing more, but I'm afraid that going too far might cause some sort of permanent, psychological screw up in his head that will make him afraid of people and soft, fuzzy things for the rest of his life." He scored an amusing look from Chang at that statement.
"So, now all you can really do is try at wait for him to accept you as a friend, at the very least. Yours is a hard, discouraging task," the chef said, not knowing to what extent he was right, "but I'm confident that you, if anyone, can do it. Be patient with him, and sooner or later he'll come around."
Even though Chang had turned and left, retreating back into the depths of the house to find his bed, Albert still felt the need to answer. "Yeah. Sooner or later, maybe."
"Is it working yet?"
"No, it's the same."
"All right. Hang on..."
Pyunma tapped his foot lightly on the floor, waiting for the monitor's current projection to change. On it was a power scale for the Dolphin's submerging apparatus: damage from a previous battle was causing it to function at a mediocre sixty-four percent.
The former slave's attention drifted around the hangar of the ship. It was descent sized in accordance to the war craft, but a bit narrow to hold any smaller planes or flying wings. It was clear the ship was still just an unfinished prototype: the entire lower deck seemed incomplete with exposed wiring and mechanics all about and little light installed.
Françoise poked her head back up into view. "Now toggle the power. Maybe we can get a start that way."
He began to do as directed, a grin on his face. "I never would have figured you to know so much 'bout electronics, Zero-Zero-Three. No offense intended."
"None taken," just said, just as equally amused by the thought of her being able to rewire an entire engine system, "It is kind of strange. When I was going to school I couldn't even replace a light bulb, but now look at me." When the power was reset the lighting flickered briefly overhead, then humming noise started nearby. Françoise laughed proudly.
Pyunma glanced at the screen before nodding approvingly to the French girl. "Power has hit eighty-seven percent. It looks like manual repair will have do be done to get it to full capacity, but great job, Zero-Zero-Three."
"Thanks. I suppose we should do a quick evaluation before breakfast since we're here anyway. I'm going to have to take care of Zero-Zero-One when he wakes up, so I really won't be able to help," she explained apologetically.
"Don't worry 'bout it. It'll be easy to get some of those slackers up at the house to help me down here. Everyone's got a lot of free time now seeing as how watch duty is usually taken up by Jet an' Joe."
"Are you complaining?" the girl asked jokingly.
"I guess not, seeing as how sitting up in an empty field for hours really isn't entertaining for me. I prefer to spend my time working on than somethin' else that needs to get done."
"Actually, I think those boys are working on things that need to get done when they're alone," Françoise thought aloud, more to herself than to Pyunma. Had she drifted any farther into thought she probably would have missed her companion's curious look. "Well, what I'm saying is that there are a lot of things to accept. I'm sure you didn't just come to terms with it right away. I know I'm still dealing with the insanity of it all. I believe that secluding themselves is how those two want to sort out their heads."
"Perhaps, but is closing off everyone really healthy? I won't pretend to know how they see this, but I don't think one can get a lot stronger if they're fighting such a delicate battle by themselves."
"I think that's why Albert has been trying so persistently to convince Jet to trust him."
"All that I see to be happening is Albert always gettinghis foot in the doorand then Jet slammingit in his face," the African scratched the back of his neck out of habit, "He's really concerned about the kid. I wonder if Joe will need to have the same treatment eventually."
"I don't understand it myself. We know that both Jet and Joe were raised mainly on the streets, but they were obviously raised differently. One is angry and stubborn; the other seems calm and docile. I haven't been able to speak with him personally yet, but I think that Joe will be fine. He seems more willing to accept and grow with his transformation. This is a maturity that - not to be speaking about him behind his back - I have never seen in Jet as long as I've known him."
"Still, it prob'bly wouldn't hurt to try and talk to Joe soon. You know, just in case he isn't as stable as we assume he is."
"I plan to. Even if he doesn't need it for his own insecurities, I would like to speak with him," she said, standing up and wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, "Well, let's get this evaluation done and head back to Dr. Kozumi's. I sure could use breakfast about now, and a bath."
"Marry sir, such claim as you would lay to your horse; and she would have me as a beast: not that, I being a beast, she would have me; but that she, being a very beastly creature, lays claim to me..."
As Zero-Zero-Seven continued to dictate his passage Albert couldn't help but grin at the sight of his miserable audience. The shape shifter did have a way of pinning people down to listen his versifications, proving yet again that there was more to the fatuous actor than he let on. Figuring he was safe from being rounded up with the rest of the viewers, Albert entered to cross the room to the kitchen.
"Zero-Zero-Four," a voice whispered. Albert looked back over his shoulder and saw Dr. Gilmore wave him over subtly. The cyborg, still hearing Zero-Zero-Seven reading in the background, grinned and shook his head. Dr. Gilmore rolled his eyes. "Not about him. I thought you were supposed to be on watch at the coast now."
"You mean Zero-Zero-Two isn't?"
"He came back early this morning and seemed very... Very distant. All he said was that the watch roster should go on as normal, and now is your assigned time. I'm guessing from your blank stare that you didn't get this message."
"Excuse me, gentlemen," Zero-Zero-Seven interrupted their conversation in turn for them interrupting his performance, looking quite miffed. The other cyborgs about the room looked grateful that he had stopped. "There is nothing ruder than people who talk in the theater. Kindly keep your peace!"
"Sorry," Albert said unconvincingly, "Doctor, do you know where he went?"
"No. He just ate a few bites of burnt toast and left. He didn't appear to be in any sort of hurry, however. If he was trying to leave he would have left in haste, Zero-Zero-Four. I'm sure it's nothing."
"I saw him," Zero-Zero-Five said heavily, "He was walking on the dirt road. It looked like he was going to the city."
"The city? Why would he..." Fading off into his own thought, the German simply sighed. His face quickly went from concerned to disappointed, and this led the others to only wonder what he was thinking. "I'll be on the Dolphin." The three cyborgs and the doctor watched him leave, bewildered at his reaction.
"Oh, dear," muttered Zero-Zero-Six, sliding off the couch in a hurry, "I'll try to talk with him."
Following his quarry outside, Chang had to actually look for the man for a bit before spotting him. Albert had already covered a good deal of ground with his long strides and it was a task for the smaller man to catch up with him. It was clear that the German was bothered, but why exactly was something that confused Chang.
"What's wrong, Zero-Zero-Four?"
"I pushed him too far," the man stated, expecting Chang to know exactly what he was referring to.
"Right now Zero-Zero-Two needs to be reached out to. You did the good thing!"
With a shake of his head Albert continued. "I shouldn't have pried. I knew he wouldn't talk to me no matter what, so why did I keep going? Why do I keep going? It only hurts... him." It was obvious that what he had said was not what he was thinking. Chang looked at him dead on, and Albert, knowing he had let that thought slip, could only examine the ground.
"No, it hurts both of you. You care for that boy deeply: I can tell, and he can, too. The problem is that he's never had anyone treat him like this and he doesn't know how to react. And we all know how Jet can get when he doesn't know how to handle a situation."
"I'm not going to follow him," Albert stated firmly.
"A good decision. He could use some time alone and away from here. The city is likely where he feels most comfortable," the elder said in place of agreement. "Give him the day to himself and I'm sure he'll be back to normal with a whole new array of insults and sarcastic remarks to throw at you tomorrow at breakfast."
Slightly more at ease at hearing these words, Albert just shrugged and nodded.
Japan was a major change of scenery for Zero-Zero-Two. The smell of dried fish and other food goods that wafted from the small shop he passed was a more than he could bear, so he did his best to conceal his grimace with a false cough into the back of his hand. The city was hardly the size of Tokyo or even New York, but it was still quite crowded with shoppers and the occasional group of children playing along the sidewalk.
Jet wasn't planning on doing anything in specific that day. He had a lot more free time now that he didn't have to always keep his enemies in line. Back on the West side he had to border his turf every day to make sure nobody was stepping up to challenge his gang. It had been the only responsibility he took seriously, actually. He'd been expelled from school, served time in juvey hall, almost made prison, and had been all but ordered out of his home by the alcoholics he called a family. With most of his life's activities stripped away Jet had fought and pulled himself to the top of the food chain on the streets. That was his last frontier, after all, and the only place that couldn't cast him out. He knew he had hit the bottom - sunken to the lowest level. This was where those who had pretty much failed at life so badly got thrown away to, left for dead and having no life line to get back on their feet. So, Jet once decided, he'd become the best of the worst.
He came to an alley and looked down it. On a bad night back home this was the kind of place he and some of the others would end up staying. On a really bad night he would end up sleeping out in the storming rain. In the winter he used to scout for vacant apartments or an unlocked warehouse to move his group to wait out the cold nights. There were sixteen guys that considered Jet a leader, and Jet took it upon himself to find a place for all of them every night. Some hardly had any clothes past a T-shirt and jeans, so freezing to death was always a possibility. And then there was the matter of creatively obtaining food so nobody starved... Sixteen people to look out for every night, and only when all sixteen were content did Jet start worrying about himself.
But all of that was a long time ago.
The teen shook his head and continued on past the alley, joining the steady stream of people that flowed down the sidewalks. Anybody who was in the old gang was long gone by now, especially since he doubted that anybody in his group would consider it important to supply for everyone under him. Each of them had been so considered with their own being that it was unlikely the gang even stuck together after their leader disappeared. Some of the younger kids probably froze and starved to death in the gutters, Jet thought bitterly.
Zero-Zero-Three said that fate intervened with their lives and took away their futures, but was it "fate"? Some unfortunate occurrence that destiny brought on? That was a load of bull. "Fate" had nothing to do with the fact that he had no human feeling in his legs anymore. "Fate" didn't make it so he had infrared vision in pitch black darkness. It was most certainly not "fate" that turned him into a damn killing machine. No, there was one person who was to blame for that, if Black Ghost was a person at all. Maybe he was, or maybe he was a cyborg, or a robot. It didn't matter. Jet was convinced he wanted the bastard to burn in hell for what he did.
Thinking back on the other Zero-Zero cyborgs seem to make the anger within him fall away, but itpounded back with an unbridled rage. Black Ghost had been so close so many times, but nobody wanted to move to strike back. They were all afraid or cautious or entirely apathetic. He was the only one that wanted vengeance so badly that he'd go charging to face an army to fight Black Ghost.
Actually, he was the only one who primarily wanted vengeance, period. There were tiny hints of anger and the desire to have what was taken away back seen in his comrades, but mainly they wanted to just stop the Death Merchant so that humanity might live for another day. They were so noble with their ideals of peace and ending this horror. Jet didn't understand why this made him feel so disgusted.
And then there was Zero-Zero-Four. Jet found himself unable to hate the man, but he couldn't even tolerate him, either. It was like he couldn't make up his mind about him, but who could? The man didn't give a whole lot off about himself past his smug attitude. But the fact that he had the gall to think he understood what was going through Jet's head was enough to piss the American off to holy hell. He had no idea how things were, living in a different dump day to day, having to fight off enemies to protect what little you had. Life was hard, and if he wanted to see only the sugar coated version then fine. He'd see it someday whether he wanted to or not.
Then Jet asked himself something that had never crossed his mind: What if Zero-Zero-Four already had? He never really said anything about where his life before this nightmare... He came from Germany, and Jet had a relative idea of where that was and its government (Showing that going to class everyday to throw spit balls at the teacher had, in fact, taught him something). But Zero-Zero-Four had to have had an actual life with a family... Or, maybe he didn't? Suddenly curious to know, though he'd never admit it to anyone, the second cyborg felt a little guilty. He had vaguely remembered learning something about judging people by his parents before the alcoholism and fights.
Starting to snap back to reality, Zero-Zero-Two noticed how the crowds of people were beginning to deplete. The day began to turn dark with heavy rain clouds slowly coming their way from the West. With a groan he decided it was time to turn back to Dr. Kozumi's, knowing he'd never beat the down pour on foot.
When Jet got back to the house - dripping wet, no less - he did his best to interrogate Zero-Zero-Six as to where he might find a specific blond German at the moment without giving away his intentions. Chang, however, was quite difficult and manipulated Jet's words to play a fool until the American had to bite his tongue and openly ask where Zero-Zero-Four was. When his question was answered Jet decided that he did not like the fat grin on the Chinese man's face as it meant there was probably something he'd missed.
Regardless, Zero-Zero-Six's words proved true. Albert was on the watch in the field, and seemed to be either ignoring or unaware of the thunderstorm that had hit the area. He was ducked under a tree, but it didn't appear that he was making any specific effort to keep dry. Jet couldn't see his face, but he could imagine the other cyborg to be lost in his own world and oblivious to the fact he was being watched.
"Not that I care if you get hit by lightening and have every circuit in your body blown or anything, but you shouldn't sit under trees in thunderstorms," he said in place of a warning of his arrival, noting how Albert jumped slightly from being caught off guard.
Instead of dwelling on how shocked he was to see Jet coming up to him for a change Albert went along with the conversation. "Well, I figure I've got nothing to worry about. The Zero-Zero-Tens hit me with his lightening countless times and I'm still here."
"I'm guessing it's probably not the same."
"Yeah, well... What brings you around?" he asked quietly, casting his gaze out toward the churning ocean to pretend like he wasn't too anxious to hear what Jet had to say. The action didn't get past Jet.
Wiping some of his wet hair away from his face, the teen went directly to the point. "I wanted to ask you something. You told me that you were willing to risk getting yourself hurt so that I don't have an emotional breakdown. Now tell me why."
Albert didn't reply immediately, but instead thought about an answer that would give his explanation justice. Under the harsh glare that Jet was giving him the thought was a bit more difficult to process than he cared for.
"I guess.... it's because I can sort of relate to your immediate dilemma. Not just the whole being reborn in a laboratory deal; I mean more like being alone when you're surrounded by people with a lot of good, menial intentions. I don't know how things were like for you, but you strike me as the type who isn't used to being cared about. No person should have to feel like that."
"And you just decided to be my savior?"
"Not quite," Albert said with a small laugh, "My motives are a bit more centered around myself than you think. I'd lost my entire life just before the Black Ghost had me abducted. I clung to the memory of how good it felt to be loved and not just somebody's lab rat until it was just too much. Then I saw you, a person who relied only on himself and didn't feel like he needed help from anyone. For some reason this attracted me to you."
Suppressing the urge to ask Zero-Zero-Four just to what extent he was attracted to him, Zero-Zero-Two just crossed his arms and began walking to the ship. "C'mon. Nobody's going to attack us in this storm and I'm sick of standing out here getting wet."
Quiet as they walked toward the alcove where the battle ship had been hidden, disregarding the gale-force winds and freezing cold rain pounding at them, the two headed to the natural harbor for the team's vessel. As they walked Jet began picking on small details from Albert's confession that were puzzling or just didn't make sense at all.
"You said you "lost your life" before Black Ghost. How?"
"Have you ever heard of the Berlin Wall?"
"Yeah. Well, I heard of it. Don't know what it's for."
"At the end of World War II Germany became divided into two parts: East and West. West Germany was a free government, and was inhabited by American and French forces trying to keep the peace. The Eastern portion, where I lived, began a communist style government and was strict with military power. Right between the two nations was the city of Berlin, and it was always a battle ground for soldiers on opposing sides. So, East Germany put up the Wall that divided the city and the two countries.Government officials said that the wall was meant to stop aggression from the West, but that was a lie. They started putting death traps and armed soldiers around our side of the wall to keep people from escaping. We were trapped in a doomed system."
They'd finally gotten to the alcove, out of the rain but still cold. The echo of the cyborg's words bounced off and intensified due to the stone rock surroundings. Jet forced himself to bear the cling of his wet clothes, but was silently hoping that Albert would finish his history lesson soon.
"I had just proposed to my lover, Hilda," he said sadly. Albert had never spoken to anyone about her before, and the flood of emotions that swept him when he said her name threw him off for a moment. "She accepted, but only on the condition that we be married in a free country where we could live our lives out happily. The only way to do that was to escape into West Germany." Had it not been for Jet's expression Albert probably would have just apologized for babbling on about himself incessantly and stopped talking. The American honestly looked like he was trying hard to comprehend the fact that Albert had been engaged and never said anything to anyone about it. "We tried to sneak through under the cover of a Hageback Circus Transport taking a lion to the zoological gardens across the border. It was the only thing I could get together that would convince them to let us through. The problem was I could only find a way to authorize myself. We had to work away around for Hilda.
"So, while looking at Simba, the lion I was moving, she got an idea. Next thing I know my bride-to-be is dressed up in a lioness disguise and is curled up in the cage on the back of the truck.
"I guess what makes me angry is the fact that it would have worked had I not panicked. We got through the check point without a hitch, but when I was driving away the guard flagged me down. I... I had thought he'd figured us out somehow, so I hit the gas and took off."
"This wasn't the case?" Jet asked.
Albert shook his head. "I'd forgotten to get my pass and identification back from the guard. What I took as an order to stop was actually him just trying to return what I'd left behind. Needless to say they understood what was happening when I shot out of there like a bat out of hell."
"Then what happened?"
"They fired on us. They gave us everything they had: rifles and grenades, and they shot at us until the truck tipped over. It hurt like you wouldn't believe, having all those bullets and glass shards sticking out of my body. Dr. Gilmore says that a lot of my vital organs were damaged or destroyed, and that's why I'm more cybernetic than the rest of you.
"In the end I dragged myself out of the wreck to see... Well, there was the hope she might have survived being fired on directly by a dozen machine guns at a time. Unlikely, but I had the hope." Shaking his head softly, Albert looked toward, but not directly at, Jet. "She was gone long before I could get to her... I suppose that I should also be dead too, all things considered, but I blacked out and eventually wound up as somebody's science project. My guess is that Black Ghost agents found me right after the escape attempt."
Jet stood there in an awed silence. Hell, that confirmed Zero-Zero-Four did know how hard life could be. A pang of remorse hit Jet when he realized that he had been quick to put down the other cyborg before he had learned the whole story. But still, there was the something irking at him that needed to be addressed.
"It would have been a lot easier for you to provide emotional support to somebody more willing to accept it."
"It would have," the German agreed, "but I was willing to put up the effort. Besides, you need an advocate to shoulder some stress."
"So noble to put others first. You're a better person than I am."
"I don't think so. More patient, maybe, but not a better person," Albert replied, ignoring the small hint of sarcasm from Jet, "I seriously doubt that you could live your whole life without feeling responsibility for another."
The memory of those sixteen guys back in New York caught up with Jet at that moment. It was scary how Zero-Zero-Four could be so blindly accurate.
"So, Jet, you've heard my story and know my motives. D'you still want me to get out of your life?"
The teen's stony expression, typical for him, didn't change in the least. "You still piss me off and I can't stand your complacent disposition... but no." Jet paused, feeling like he owed it to the fourth cyborg to clear the air a little more. "I'm only gonna say it once that I'm sorry for being a bastard to you. Tell anybody and I'll deny it. And I most certainly never told you that for a hopeless romantic, you're not as intolerable as you come off to be."
"Thanks," Albert smirked. At that Jet left, not storming off as usual, but a bit more laid back. The German could understand: it was easier to relax when the burdens of life were shared. He was glad that he was the one able to convince Jet to share them.
From what I've seen
You're just one more hand me down
'Cause no one's tried to give you what you need
So lay all your troubles down
I am with you now
Matchbox Twenty - Hand Me Down