[Narrative]

[hellbornhuntrss]

Who: Rip van Winkle
When: Wednesday night
Where: The Western District, from the Decepticon hideout to the Opera House.
What: Recently returned to her original age, Rip is forced to face the truth; that Rayne won't be coming back.



It was like being on an alien planet.

The air smelled different, fell drier and heavier in the lungs as she breathed in. The floor, or maybe it was gravity itself, made her feel off balance so that she swayed slightly as she walked. A pounding in her head and behind her eyes echoed the faint, dull beating of her heart. The entire world felt stale and poisonous.

She remembered the last week as if it were a lengthy dream, far removed and with little impact on the present moment. Occasionally she suspected that she must have had a childhood, as all people did; however, exploring those forgotten years did little to comfort or console her, only to remind her that she had once known happiness, in an age far removed. It no longer mattered what had occurred; she would have to eventually face her disrespectful behavior towards Megatron, her uncalled-for actions with America and Tony Stark...but not tonight. It was a trifling, unimportant glimpse of childlike ignorance, and nothing but a brief respite before the dark curtain came crashing down into her reality.

He was gone. He was gone, and he was never, ever returning. The truth of this statement in her mind was so big and so brutal that she couldn't comprehend the entire idea at once. She had to nibble little chunks at it, taking the universal, crushing truth in tiny, boiling pieces that felt heavy in her heart and rotten in her stomach.

She would never hear his voice say her name again. There would be no more smiles between them, no more teasing, no nostalgic talks about the greatness of Mars and Germany. She would not teach him how to speak her language; he would never instruct her in Arabic. No more drinking together as humans, never tasting his distinct blood that revitalized her more than just physically. Never feeling his warm hand against her cheek, or the small of her back, or his breath against her ear as he slept. It was as if someone had taken a knife and carved from her heart everything that was good and wonderful and worthwhile, stealing it away and leaving only an empty, bleeding shell.

It took forever to walk from the door of the opera house to her coffin. With every step she imagined his face, his voice, his everything. He was burned into her memory. The fact of the matter was that in the short time she had had him, he'd quickly surpassed and overlapped in importance everything else. She was no stranger to dying, or to the feeling of dying, feeling your life ebb away in an instant or in a lifetime. It was the joke of her existence, to survive everything and return for more; a perpetual cycle of death and rebirth.

But this time there was nothing. Nothing to grab hold to, nothing to cling to in replace of what had been lost and nothing to help her begin the cycle anew. Twice her world had gone up in flames; she had lost war, and she had lost what came after war. It was like being trapped in the limbo between two different lives, and she couldn't muster the strength or the courage to leave the old and move into the new. Nothing was waiting for her in the new life except more grief.

She had been so arrogant, so assuming that he would be around forever, that when he was at last torn away she was left fumbling; he was her crutch when one of her legs was broken, and now that the crutch had been stolen, she had no choice but to fall. Within her coffin she curled her arms around her, struggling to forget and to remember at the same time.

Bitterly, Rip closed her eyes tight, sucking in short, pained gasps as her shoulders hiccuped every few seconds. For hours, she didn't move, didn't speak; did nothing but remembered.

And in the earlier days, it had been so different.

"Yeah, well, from what I can tell, you're one twisted Nazi fuck."
"A pity you survived."
"Yeah, I'm pretty stubborn like that."

"If this place's made of feeling, then there's nothing to be afraid of."
"Zuch a brave soldier."
"And fuck you too."

"Do not fear, Colonel. Your blood vill remain faithfully inzide you."
"You know, I honestly wasn't that worried."
"Oh, you vere so. I can smell your fear halfvay across zer city."
"Fear? You've never seen me afraid."
"Not yet."

"Before zhere vas var, zhere vas music. Und don't you zhink zer two go togezher vell?"
"Not really. You can't carry a violin around on a battlefront."
"Colonel, I am dizappointed. You are no romantic."

"Zo I am zhinking, vhen I am restored to my proper form, of getting myzelf a dog."
"Really. I hadn't pegged you as the animal lover type. What kind?"
"It is not because I have a fondness for animals. More a matter of zafety und usefulness. Und zer type does not matter, zo long as it is big, it listens, und it has teeth; anyzhing else is superficial. But I vould not mind if it looked appropriately volf-ish. Only out of theme.

I am zhinking of naming it Derek! A good name, don't you zhink?"
"In the choice between being flattered and offended, I think I'll go for the second."

"Amazing. It's like I can annoy you without even being around."
"I zhould never have named him after you....He buries zhings in zer dirt of my coffin. He barks at all hours of zer day. Vhen I am up at night he is tired und cannot be bozhered to follow directions."
"He just wants a little love.

...I would add that this advice in no way applies to his namesake."

"Yeah, your help is really not something I need right now."
"I vas not offering help. Only gratitude for your alleviating my boredom, Colonel. I had not realized how much I missed your presence until zhis very moment. "

"You know you don't really need to sleep here?"
"Zhat is not healthy, Colonel."
"Rip, has anything about me ever struck you as healthy? I like not having to dream."

"Zo any chance after zhis you vill come und fight for my zide now? Despite your belief zhat my commanding officer is anozher vun of us idiots?"
"I'm not on anyone's side. Hell, I'm not even really on my side. But if you were in trouble, I probably wouldn't hang you out to dry."
"For vhot it is vorth, I may be persuaded to do zer same. Life here is more interesting vith you around in it, und zhat is probably zer biggest surprise I have known since coming here, und zhat includes turning into a car."
"And we'll even have a puppy to commemorate this touching moment."
"Zhis moment of deciding not to kill each ozher? Zo sentimental. I vill treasure it alvays."

"Really? You're being noble?
...
Well, noble or not, you're also not being very convincing. People are going to expect a twist, because in stories, the killer never reveals him or herself and all their motives immediately."

"You know, in early development, children that are touched more, spoken to more, and generally given more attention develop greater trust and security than children who don't? Later in life, those same kids are braver and more prone to risk-taking, and more successful.
It might be worth it now to show him some of the love he's looking for."
"I do not know how to zhow affection vithout blatantly faking it. "
"Love gets the highest sort of obedience."

"If you are going to go, zhen do it, und don't stand around talking und vasting my time."
"Well, you know, I do actually have to walk to the Western Gate."
"Oh good. Zhen zhat leaves us just enough time for me to tell you all zer vays in vhich you are both ztupid und incompetent!"

"You are wretchedly obnoxious, you have no true home or identity outzide your identification vith var, you are nozhing but a child, who pretends to be a var hero but really he is nozhing more zhan a pretender, und you are by far zer most annoying, pazhetic, disgusting, filzhy idiot I have ever had zer displeasure of acqvainting myzelf vith!"
"I'm not filthy."

"Heyyyy, I made you shout. You must really care."
"I loathe you."

"So, is this gonna be a brief time in which you indicate you care about the integrity of my skin, or are we going to rapidly revert back to the whole 'you're my fifth least favorite person in Nautilus' thing?"
"I can hate und appreciate a person at zer same time. I am of a very deep character."

"Zhen I vill be returning to hostile indifference."
"...how about you don't."
"...Zorry? Zhen vhot?"
"Well, gosh, Rip, because you're a Nazi and you're excessively bloodthirsty (pun kinda intended, I'm just gonna run with that), and I still like your company better than basically anyone else in Nautilus."

"You know, I think we actually have a sort of theme going on here. 'Derek Rayne has terrible taste in friends'.
And worse taste in significant others."
"Zhen it is a good zhing ve are only friends. I zhink I vould be forced to zhoot you if ve vere zignificant ozhers."
"And then you'd lose the only willing source of blood-I-mean-source of interesting conversation in the city, and wouldn't that be a tragedy."
"I don't need you to feed me."
"I know.

...does that mean you do need me to talk to?"

And when they had first admitted they loved one another.

"If you want to have a bitchfest, you can have it with yourself. I'm - just not interested in arguing with you."
"No? Because only days ago you - vhot vas it again? Oh, yes. You vere professing your love to me."
"I was fighting dirty. Do you want me to apologize?"
"I vant to know if it's true."
"Yes. Tragically."
"But you also vished to use me vhen you vanted to join zer Decepticon army."
"Does love exempt people from trying to use each other? Funny, I must have missed that web."
"I don't know vhezher I vant to hate you or love you or-...

You make zhings so difficult."

"Zhen tell me vhot you vant!"
"The fuck do I know?
How about you tell me what you want."
"I vanted to be a soldier of var, I vanted to live, or at least to die vith dignity und avait zer rest of my army in Valhalla!

But I vent back after I died, und discovered zhere is no Heaven. Zhere is only zhis.

Zo now I vill only continue existing. I cannot even vait for zer next var. Und now...zhere is you.
I vant you to replace var."

"It is a sad zhing indeed vhen I am zer better choice of any two."
"That's the thing, isn't it? It's not really a choice. But ideally, when you look back, you wouldn't have chosen any different."
"I take it you are happy vith how zhings have turned out?"
"Why, are you?"
"Und zhere you go again! Answering qvestions vith qvestions!"
"If I wasn't so aggravating, you'd totally have dismissed me the day we met."
"You keep my unlife interesting. I vould hate to imagine Nautilus vithout your incessant company."
"See, that's almost like affection."

"Next time ve are in bed togezher, I vant it to be bloody. Zer first time vas nice, but I do not have patience for niceties for very long. It is not my nature."
"I'm.

A little turned on right now."

She remembered when he had been replaced, temporarily, by Operative 417. And though they didn't remember each other, they still connected, still could grasp onto the tail ends of the memories they had lost.

"It's a beautiful violin."
"It is.

...Vhot else can you play?"
"I don't know, various things.

...huh. Looks like there's sheet music here for Der Freischutz. Funny. I didn't think I was really a fan of German ... opera ... "
"Zhat's my...favorite.

Perhaps zhere vas...truth to zer story of our relationship after all."

"...No vun is forcing you to be somevun you don't remember. Zhese memories...zhey are yours to choose vhezher you vish to claim zhem or not."
"They don't have to force me. I am the seeds of this person, whether I want to be or not.

Only - I've never hurt as much as this completely barren apartment would suggest that I'm going to, someday...

I wonder if he can play this thing any better than I can."
"If he could, I can see vhy I vould fall in love vith him."

"You can stop pursuing me. Like I'm some puzzlebox you can work open if you just mess with it enough."
"Vhy vould I need to pursue you? You are mine already. I am zer huntress, und I have hunted und caught you. Is it my fault you do not remember zer capture?"

..and when he had returned.

"I don't think there's a single person alive who truly is their whole self."
"Except for me."
"Yeah right. When you were a vampire, your little dream thingy was to be human, but when you were human, you weren't happy until you were a vampire again.

Dream on, my dear."
"....Zhat does not mean anyzhing. Only zhat I am unsatisfied vith vhot I am, is all."
"Being unsatisfied is how we change and how we grow. Nothing wrong with that.

It means you're not finished growing, though.

...I didn't talk like this before I was 417, did I."
"No. You vere far more tolerable vhen you vere qviet und not overanalyzing everyvun."
"You mean when I was loud and cursing everyone out?"
"Exactly! It vas fun to vatch."
"...you're just pissed off 'cause I'm right."
"Derek. Derek. How can I be pissed off vhen you are you again?"

"...If living forever truly bozhers you, I suppose you could ask vun of zer Ashura about putting you to sleep for good."
"Uh, no. It doesn't. I'd rather be alive than nonexistent, any day."
"Good. I vas vorried zhere for a moment.

But just zhink of all zer amazing zhings you vill live zhrough in all zer time you have left. All zer people you have yet to meet."
"I'd rather die fighting Isis than live a boring life for the next few millenia."
"As vould I. A glorious death.

...of course, zer reason vhy I agreed to even ascend in zer first place vas to protect zhis city from such a fate. I do not like peace as a rule, und yet....I do vish to have a home for as long as you und I are alive."
"Well, you know I'll be there backing you up.

Slightly less effectively."
"Yes. Und zhis is comforting. I vas never meant to be a vun-person army."

And she remembered her precious, last few days with him, and clung to these memories even as they slipped away from her.

"You know what would have clinched it for me? If she'd been able to send us both to a world we chose. The fuck away from Nautilus and this fight, and onto fights we can choose, and worlds we want."
"...Zhat sounds very much like some zort of Valhalla to me. Und people like us do not get to go to paradise."
"And why the fuck not?"
"Vell...

Ve are selfish, for vun. Ve zhink only of ourselves und our immediate group of friends; to hell vith zer universe if ve can only save our country, our planet.

Ve are murderers; I kill for fun, you kill out of necessity und lacking remorse.

Und ve are frighteningly vengeful."
"We're not selfish. We're selfless. We give ourselves to a country. Or a planet. A nation, fine. But soldiers aren't takers. They're givers."
"But ve give only to zer people ve recognize as being on our side. To zer "Ozher", ve give nozhing."
"Because we're not perfect, and you can't protect everyone.

It doesn't make us wrong, it doesn't take away our right to fucking rest."
"...vell. Even if ve don't deserve it, don't have a right to it....I still vould have liked to reach zhat Valhalla vith you."

She was wrong. She had never been the huntress, capturing Derek and keeping him for herself. He had always been the one laying the traps, taming her, coaxing her to love and to permanently imprint herself on him. She had opened up and made him her soulmate, her bread and butter and her life after all the life had been drained out of her.

Now she was left to agonize and grieve, alone. If Derek had been her life, then with his disappearance he brought her death.

She reached up, taking hold of the lid of her coffin and closed it up, where she didn't move for a very long time.

And above the Western district, the sky bled crimson.