VI
When Ayden opened his eyes to the complete darkness, he shot up in a panic, his mind racing to figure out his surrounding. As his eyes adjusted to find what tiny bit of light could be found with the blackness, he settled. He began to remember the events of the night before, from his entrance into Alexandria, to his meeting of Marcus and eventual rest in what had said was his new room. He also remembered the photo album he had found within the old dresser in the corner of his new personal dwelling. The one that told him a bit more then he figured his new friend wanted him to know. Told a secret he was sure Marcus was trying to hide.
Ayden threw the blanket and sheets to side; scooting to sit on the side of the bed, with his head held in his hands between his legs.
"Lights on," he said, as he covered his eyes from the oncoming light, that would soon fill the room. As he touched his face, he could feel the wetness of tears that had fallen during his haunted sleep. Haunted by dreams replaying the events of the events that lead him to this moment. The look of horror and discuss on his own mothers face, as her eyes darted from him to the crippled body of the man she claimed to love, though Ayden would never come to understand why. But more than that, the sounds of Leonard Cross screaming as Ayden's makeshift blade had cut his mobility permanently from the man's life, plagued the boy's mind.
So he sat there, silently on the edge of the bed, shedding the last tears he would ever shed over those moments. Silent sobs choked in his throat, has he let go of his hold on the past. All he could do now is look to the future, this much he knew. His father had always made that point. There was no use in holding onto the mistakes, learn and move on. No matter how much those mistakes hurt like a motherfucker.
The booming sound of what sounded like an explosion below him, followed by a stream of what he Iassumed to be curses coming from the young man who had saved his ass, shook Ayden out of his own head and back to his currently situation. As thankful as Ayden was, he had questions for Marcus Young, well he assumed he went by Young, if the photos that lay upon the dresser across the room proved true.
How he was to approach the coming questions, he wasn't sure. From the way Marcus had acted at the mention of his mother, Ayden knew it was more than a touchy subject. And who could blame Marcus for wanting to hide the fact he was the son of the most famous engineer, no mind, of their time.
But whatever the reason, fate had apparently brought the son of August Alexander and the son of Raychel Young together, and Ayden needed to understand why. With a final brush of his hand, Ayden wiped the last of the tears and sleep from his eyes, got up and began to dress. Finding a pair of faded jeans and a plain white tee amongst his things, he threw them on, and left the room. But not before grabbing the photo album from its place.
The muffed sound of a crash came from below as Ayden made his way down the hall towards the staircase leading downstairs. 'Stupid motherfucker' is what he could make out of Marcus' apparent rage filled rant this time. He wasn't sure exactly what was happening to cause such an uproar, but he couldn't help but smirk a bit at it all. This is what Marcus must have meant when he warned him about the random yelling.
As he reached the balcony, Marcus was entering in through the garage door. He didn't seem to notice that Ayden was standing overhead, as he slammed the door and gave a final protest of "Fuck this."
He stood there with his back towards the stairs for a moment, looking over his hands, bloody from what Ayden assumed to be the cause of all the excitement. After a moment he removed an old rag from the pocket of his grease covered jeans and wiped his hands with it.
Ayden just stood there a moment, watching it all. Finally Marcus turned and looked up to see him standing there. "Sorry if I woke you," he said with a final glance at his hands.
"Nah, you're good." Ayden answered.
"Cool, cool. How'd ya sleep? Guessing pretty good considering the day is almost gone already. Much longer, and I was gonna come check to make sure you were still breathing in there, honestly." Marcus said.
"Good," Ayden lied. "Needed it."
"I bet."
Ayden made his way down the stairs, stopping at the bottom step still a few feet away from where
Marcus stood, photo album now behind his back. He cast his gaze at his feet, searching once again for how to do what he knew he needed to do next.
Marcus noticing this sudden change in Ayden's behavior asked, "Something else on your mind there?"
Ayden drew in a shallow breath and removed the album from behind his back, holding it out for Marcus to see. Ayden now took notice that it was Marcus' turn to glance to the floor.
Letting out his held breath, he asked, "You're Dr. Young's kid aren't you?" No better way than to just come out with it in the end.
Marcus met Ayden's gaze, and let out a deep sigh. "Where'd you find that?" he asked calmly.
"It was sitting in one of the drawers of the dresser in my room,"
"I see. Was kinda wondering where it had gone off to. Sure she figured it was as safe of place to hide it as any. Or more likely she simply forgot where she had placed it," at this Marcus chuckled and shrugged.
"Yeah, she was my mom," he finished, his voice still calm.
Ayden began to step forward now, "Why didn't you tell me? After you figured out who my dad was, why hide the fact that your mom was someone so close to him? Someone so close to my entire family, once upon a time?"
"Honestly, I wasn't exactly ready. Hell, no one really even knows I exist. Well they know, but they don't exactly know the whole story. As a matter of fact, only two people know who I am. And they're both standing in this room." Marcus answered.
"How is that even possible?" Ayden asked.
"Easy really. When your mom is one of the most important people on Terra, certain dangers come with it. After whatever happened to my dad, well happened, she was still pregnant with me. She kept her pregnancy a secret from what I've been able to gather. She never really said it out loud, but I know.
Then when it was time for me to be delivered, she did it off planet. On one of the lab stations. See mom wasn't exactly the most, how to put this? Trusting of people. Paranoid might be a better word, honestly."
"So she hide your existence from the beginning?" Ayden interjected.
"Pretty much. Don't get me wrong, its not like she wasn't a loving mother. I mean maybe a little cold sometimes, but that comes with a mind like hers. But I digress. Yes, she hid all records of my birth. To keep me safe she told me, when I was old enough to start asking questions." Marcus said.
"What kinda questions?" Ayden asked.
"You know, the typical. Why can't I leave the house? Where is my dad? Why don't I have a chip like she does?"
"Wait you don't have a chip at all? Like never had one?" Ayden asked suddenly, surprised more by this than anything else. "How than have you been able to survive on your own?"
At this Marcus reached into his pocket and pulled out what appeared to be a small black card, that could easily be hid within the palm of his hand if need be. "This little guy. Has every last dime she ever made on it. Other than that, I tend to avoid the scanners around the city. Live like a ghost really."
"And no one's noticed anything? Like when you have to deal with other people?"
"Honestly, people don't give a shit about how they get paid, as long as they do. Especially these days.
And that much I have pretty much been able to cover. Obviously I don't go around waving this thing around. Use it for the basics, food and what not. Bigger things I typically make a deal for, or you know, find it."
Ayden raised an eyebrow at this, causing Marcus to laugh. "Don't worry, I'm not going out there robbing anyone," Marcus said, putting Ayden's thought to rest.
"Okay, so I follow so far," Ayden stated, "But how has no one come looking here, especially after she passed away. Obviously this place is kinda hard to miss, and the world must have known this was her home."
"Not exactly. Like I said, mom was just a little paranoid. With everything. So like me, there is no record of this place having any connection to her. Her main concern in everything she did, was always the safety of her, let's say, assets," Marcus answered.
"That doesn't exactly sound like someone who made it her life's mission to create a way to end a war," Ayden said.
"Well, on the surface, no. But even in that matter, the same driving force remained. When she came up with the first concept of the HARMs, it was because she herself was afraid to die. She knew she couldn't fight a war by herself. So she took the idea to the Coalition. She figured if they had a weapon that could possibly turn the tides, it always meant that she had a possibility of surviving. Watching her ass was objective number one. The fact that it helped the rest of humanity, was in reality, a bonus."
Ayden sat there, staring at Marcus, trying to wrap his head around all of what he was being told. Deep down he felt an anger beginning to brew. All his life, he had thought of the doctor as this savior of Terra.
A selfless soul that had worked for the betterment and survival of them all. Now he was being told that it was all a lie. That this woman was truly only looking out for herself. That his own father had lost his life, believing in what Ayden himself had believed in just moments before. He wanted to scream at her son that stood before him. But yet, he kept his composure. He would hear Marcus out. He wasn't his mother. That much Ayden could see from the first moments he met Marcus.
"Jesus," is all he could say, shaking his head.
"Yeah, I know its kinda a lot to take in," Marcus remarked. "And I also know how fucked up it all sounds, when you break it down. But I promise she wasn't some selfish monster, deep down. I think maybe in the beginning she was afraid, and that fear lead her to create what she did. But as time went on, she actually did care. For more than just herself," he added.
"But still…" Ayden said.
"Yeah, I know, like I said, fucked up."
"Beyond, if I'm being honest," Ayden stated. He watched as Marcus' eyes met with the ground again, shame showing its ugly head from behind those emerald colored eyes. Yet he remained silent. "Sorry,"
Ayden added suddenly.
"Nah, you're good. It's the truth, and I know it. She may have been my ma, but she wasn't perfect."
"Listen, I know it can't be easy, talking about her. I know she was your mom, man. And we all like to think of our parents are some sort of superheroes." Ayden said, stood up and began making his way towards Marcus. "But eventually I think we all come to accept they are just people, like the rest of us.
That they are flawed and sometimes do fucked up things. And that reality hurts a shit load. Knowing that they are human, and can and will eventually let us down," he continued, talking to both Marcus and himself in a way.
"Yeah you're probably right, oh great wise one," Marcus chuckled, slapping Ayden on the shoulder. "By the way, been meaning to ask you, how'd you mess up your hand?"
Ayden looked down at his right hand, honestly forgetting until that moment he had hurt it. The pain had all but gone away, surprisingly even to him. As he stared at the tape around his hand, the shame returned. Another reminder of the blood on his hands, literally.
He met Marcus' gaze, still waiting for him to answer. "I..I cut it on my way to Alex," he lied, his voice cracking slightly. He hoped that Marcus didn't notice this, and yet a part of him did. He felt like such a hypocrite. Excepting the truth out of the one who had saved him, yet here he was still holding out on his own secrets.
"Well it looks like you may need a bit more than just a dirty rag and some duct tape for it. Don't want it getting infected. So how bout you head back upstairs, and clean it off with hot shower. Then meet me in the garage. I have a first aid kid I keep for when I mess myself up, out there," Marcus said, before turning back towards the door to the garage. Before he reached door, he stopped. "Everything you need should be right in the bathroom. See ya soon."
Ayden turned and made his way back up the stairs, stopping near the top to watch Marcus leave back into the garage. He hung his head. Eventually he knew the truth would have to come out, one way or another. But he was afraid, of what that would mean. He wasn't a killer. But would Marcus see it that way. Plus all the other lies he's told, just to protect his own ass. Maybe he was no different than the woman he had judged so harshly.
He shook the thought away and continued towards the bathroom near his bedroom. Inside he found a large shower, surrounded by fogged glass. Near it was a large tub with what appeared to be jets built
into the sides. If Marcus hadn't been waiting for him to hurry up and meet him, Ayden would have chosen the tub over the shower. To soak in his own thoughts.
He undressed and stepped into the shower. He turned on the water, which came out freezing at first, causing him to jump out of the stream quickly. He had to grab the side of the entrance so not to slip and bust his head. After a moment, he reached around the water and adjusted the temperature to his liking.
Steam quickly began to fill the air around him, as he stepped back into the water, almost hot enough to burn his skin. But not quite.
He lowered his head, allowing the hot water to flow over the back of his dark brown hair, which at that
point was just beginning to grow a bit shaggy. The slight curls in back flattened against his neck.
He stood like this, just letting the water run over him. Washing away the grim of the past few days. He ignored the slight pain that came from the back of his head, or the rest of his body from the fight with Leonard. He brought his hand up to his neck. It was obvious there was no visual damage, yet it will stuck slightly.
He lowered his good hand and brought the damaged one up near his face, so that his head was blocking the stream of water from hitting it any further. He stood there looking at it a moment longer, almost afraid to do what he had to next. But after a moment, he straighted his head up, and allowed the water to pour over the tape and makeshift bandage. The heat and water began to loosen the hold of the tape, making it easy to remove the entire workings from his hand. And that is what he did.
Letting the wad of tape and wet, bloody sock hit the floor of the shower, he brought his hand back to his face. Looking over the wound now, he could see that even with any sort of medical cream, it was healing much better than he could have hoped. That at least was good. Bits of dried blood hung near the wound itself, which was beginning to close. He knew he would most likely always have a scar there. And maybe that much he did deserve. Maybe he wasn't meant to simply forget what that hand had done.
A few more moments passed, before he began to finish cleaning the rest of the way, including the remaining blood on his arm from Leonard's throat. Most of it must have soaked into his red hoodie. And the little that did remain, could have been mistaken from coming from the wound on his own hand. But still the image of himself holding pulling Leonard's head back, and bringing that blade across his neck, replayed in his head as he watched it swirl down the drain with the mixture of dirt, soap and water.
His entire body shuddered at the thought, but eventually he pushed this aside as well. He finished cleaning the rest of himself quickly, removing the wrap of tape from his wrist as well, allowing it and the foil that was used to block his chip to fall beside its companion that had covered his wounded hand.
Stepping out of the shower, he grabbed for the over sized towel that hung nearby. Drying himself off, he walked towards the large, steamed over mirror that hung on the wall across from the shower. With a wipe of his hand, he stared at his own blurred imagine. Behind his almond shaped blue eyes, set against a youthful, yet handsome face, hide a pain that had no place living in a gaze as young as his.
He stood there, looking back at his own reflection with a contempt that rose its head more and more with each passing moment. Finally he swiped his hand across the glass again, making the steam blur his image away once again. He couldn't stand the sight of himself. Couldn't stand to look at the one who had ruined his life.
Yet another part of him still said that he had done what was right. He had done it to protect. Not because he hated the man; although deep down he did; but only to save the life of the last remaining person he had loved in that moment. Yet the question remained, which voice was correct?
He finished drying his body and dressed, throwing back on the same clothes he had when he had awoken. He quickly cleaned out the remains of bloody cloth, tape and foil that sat in the bottom of the shower, throwing it all away in a near by trash can that sat near the white porcelain toilet.
With one final look towards the mirror, that was now dispersing its fogged look, he left the room and headed back down the long hallway. As he walked, he ran his hands through his still damp hair, spiking the top ever so slightly. At this length he hated to have it all lay flat against his head.
He made his way down the stairs, stopping near the top to see if Marcus had returned inside. Another loud crash from behind the door he was headed for, gave the answer.
He reached the door and paused, as a slew of curses came from behind it. He jumped back in surprise as another crash came, this time just on the other side of the door. Something had hit it, hard, shaking the frame ever so slightly.
After a moment, it all calmed, and he knocked. A moment passed, before he heard an answer.
"In here," Marcus called from behind the door.
Ayden opened the door and stepped inside. What he walked into was like nothing he had expected. As he stepped over the small lip just beyond the door, his feet met with a cross hatch metal walkway, that ran around the entire length of the garage. Lining the walls where shelves, all filled with random tools, metal, and a variety of electrical equipment. A single set of stairs lead to the lower concreted floor below.
All of this Ayden took in a glance. None of it truly mattered. The only thing that had his attention was the massive beast that hung in the middle, held up by chains that where bolted into the ceiling.
At once he knew what it was meant to be. A H.A.R.M, although it looked to be only partially finished. A shell of what it was to eventually become. Even still, it was by far one of the biggest Ayden had ever seen, in person or otherwise. Although he had really ever seen one up close before this, and that was his father's.
What he looked on in awe at now, as best as he could describe it, a massive metal gorilla. It's massive arms hung to its side, with its head/cockpit slumped forward to rest on its chest. On its chest he could see the outline of what he assumed lead to the inner workings. Where its face should have been, there was only glass, with a single seat resting within.
"Beautiful isn't he?" Marcus suddenly called from below. He stood behind what looked a control panel of some kind, most likely to control the chains on which the giant ape hung.
"Did you build all this?" Ayden asked, now leaning over the edge of the walkway.
"Yep, well me and my mom started him together, but yeah, I designed most of him." Marcus answered.
"Him?" Ayden asked.
"Well yeah, it's a him. His name is Sun. Like as in the old story of the monkey king," he said this as if Ayden should have picked up on the reference right away. He was only met with a shrug from the younger boy. "Never mind," he finished.
"Does he work?" Ayden called down, ignoring the sulking of Marcus had, for apparently not knowing who this monkey king was.
"Well, yeah…and no." Marcus said. "He can't walk or anything like that. What you see there is only his skeleton, so to say. I intend to armor this bad boy up. The king of all tank HARMs," he answered, a smiled spreading across his face.
"What's with the seat in the cock pit? I thought all the newest one ran on the detection spheres your mom created?" Ayden said, as he began making his way down the stairs.
As he grabbed the cold metal railing, his hand stung slightly. He ignored the pain, what he was now see was much more interesting than his bleeding hand.
"Not Sun. I wanted to keep him a bit old school, as they say. All manual controls. Well he will still have the auto pilot AI, just not as advanced as other HARMs. Just something about having control of a beast like that, like real control, that I just couldn't let go." Marcus said, now standing just under Sun's massive hanging right arm, looking up at the machine like a proud parent. "Just need to get my hands on few more things, and we should be read to at least see how he's holding up so far."
Ayden stood beside Marcus now, his head only coming up to the other boy's shoulder. He cranked his neck to look up at the king ape. It was even more impressive up close. If he had to guess, if the thing was to stand up straight, it would be pushing sixty feet or more.
"What do you plan on doing with him, once its all said and done?" Ayden asked, still staring up.
"Not sure, really." Marcus answered. "We'll see I guess. Wanna help me out with him? Could teach you at least the basics of how these things work. Mom did teach me a shit load about them. So…."
Ayden lowered his neck and looked at his new friend. He stood there a moment, thinking how grateful he was to have found shelter with Marcus Young. He nodded and smiled. "Sure, sounds good."
"Sweet," Marcus smiled back, clapping Ayden on his shoulder. "But first lets get that hand wrapped up.
Then probably go grab a bite."
The coming weeks came to be some of the best Ayden would hold onto until his dying day. Looking back at them, he wished he had known of the coming storm that was heading his way. Their way. Maybe he would have appreciated it all the more.
All the same, he loved the feeling of being carefree that those weeks gave him. One last piece of childhood the world would ever truly grant them. A brief escape from the harsh realities of the world surrounding them both.
But eventually, all good things must end. And the world has a cruel way of crushing the innocence of those it seems to need the most.