The Children and the Fury A Neon Genesis Evangelion Alternate Universe Fanfiction by Andrew Carey ***** All characters and situations of Neon Genesis Evangelion belong to their creators and publishers. I've merely borrowed them for this non-profit fanfiction. Meg and her heart-sisters belong to themselves. No disrespect is meant. ********** In a place on the very cusp between Time and that greater reality beyond, there was a room. A small, dark, comfortable room, mostly taken up with a great canopied bed of carven wood. In that bed, three women slept nestled together. Their age was indeterminate-- one observer, had there been such, might have thought them barely more than children, while to another they might seem aged, and to a third in their prime. Their faces bore a general resemblance, although one would have been hard pressed to judge if it was the born similarity of sisters or the grown similarity of those who have shared life and laughter and toil and tears. Their expressions were quite peaceful. One stirred, and opened her eyes. For a moment, she lay still, enjoying the warmth and closeness of her dearest comrades. Then, sighing softly at the necessity, she carefully extricated herself from their sweet-smelling embrace. She smiled to see them huddle together, taking up the space she had left. She stepped through the wall, into a marbled room with a pool of warm water sunk into its floor. Rose petals floated on the surface. Although unnecessary, the bath was comforting. She sank to the bottom, holding her breath for the pleasant pretense of it. The effect would have been spoilt entirely had she remained there too long, so after a minute she rose to the surface and floated on her back, eyes closed. "Ah, there's no use putting it off, is there?" she said aloud at last, in an archaic Greek which wove its way through both her best and least beloved memories. She rose from the water, wrung out her hair, and began to braid it. She willed one of the walls into mirror-brightness, and fixed her own image in her mind: the clean brown hair and small firm breasts and solid hips, the strong smooth- skinned body, the hands strong and callused with honest work. Her true self, shared with her heart-sisters, not the cruel caricature she became on her missions. At last she called to her uniform, and it came obediently to her. Not a cowled robe, this time, nor a mannish kilt and breastplate. Not heavy space armour, nor the fitted tunic and trousers which were/are/would be fashionable on a distant planet settled by Gaia's children in the third millennium of their diaspora. A long black coat, surplus from some unknown military, breeches and blouse of the same color, heavy calf-high boots, and a black beret. She looked at her reflection through gentle blue eyes and turned away. In the bedroom she paused to kiss her sleeping loves before walking through the opposite wall. It was hot and muggy; had she truly been a mortal, her clothing would have been soaked with sweat within a minute. A few birds floated lazily through the air. She stood on a street corner in a great city, curiously empty of the crowds she remembered from other missions in similar settings. Maybe there was a war on. She laughed a bitter professional's laugh. There was always a war on, somewhere in the world. She looked up at the looming buildings of concrete and glass and steel. They were ugly, but no uglier than many others; she'd seen hovels in the ruins of cities and palaces built by lords with more money than taste, in times that were both before and after this one. She looked up at a sign, reading the foreign characters as easily as the Cretan syllabary or the Ionian alphabet; absently, she wondered what "Yebisu Beer" might taste like. She sniffed at the air, caught the scent of greed and murder, and went on her way, trying very hard not to look at her reflection in the shop windows. ***** Ikari Gendou sat in his office, fingers steepled on his desk, staring at the wall. Had someone seen him, they would have said he was deep in thought; had that someone known his reputation, they would have said he was planning the next battle against the Angels, or perhaps the next twist in his complex struggle against Seele. But in truth, his mind was occupied with neither the otherwordly forces who warred on the Earth nor with the secret society whose dark agenda ran sometimes in unison and sometimes in counterpoint with his own. Rather, he was remembering a spring day some thirteen years in the past. It had been noted by his son, among others, that Gendou kept pictures neither of the wife he had lost nor of the child he had given up. Most of these observers assumed he was simply a heartless villain with all the human feelings of a mako shark. While this last was in some degree true, it was not the cause of his failure to remind himself of the past with photographs. He simply didn't need them. Right now he could see the child in his wife's lap, the chubby toothless smile, the little hand that reached out to grab his fingers, the soft eyes of the only person he'd ever loved, the cherry blossoms blowing in the breeze... He became aware that there was a woman in the room. Not a vision of Yui, such as he'd sometimes had, but a woman in black. Her face was scarred and weathered, her long hair the colour of dried blood, her fingernails sharp claws. Her blued-steel eyes were laser drills boring into his. He settled back in his chair. "I presume you're from Seele, miss?" Quite casually his hand reached for the hidden drawer, the one with the gun in it. "No." "Who sent you? The JSSDF are a pack of buffoons-- I've known one of their agents for years, and the man is a joke, a character out of a bad anime show. The Americans and Russians are worse, and everyone else is out of the picture." "I've nothing to do with any of them." "Whom do you work for?" "Fate. Justice. The forces of Good." "Very funny. If you asked me about myself, I'd probably say the same thing." The drawer was sticking. Not that it really mattered; he could handle this maniac without any firepower at all. The silenced 10mm with its soft-pointed slugs was merely insurance. "Anyhow, Miss Force of Good, what are you here to do?" "Kill you." "It's been tried." "Only by humans." She was short, he noticed, barely a hundred and fifty-five. He was vaguely irritated with himself for thinking about it. "I could have sworn you were a human yourself." "Appearances can be deceiving. And don't bother with your weapon; you can't get the drawer open, and even if you could it would be useless." "Who are you?" "My name is Megaera." She reached out; he felt an intolerable pain, as if his heart was being squeezed in his chest. "Yui..." he whispered. The killer turned her back on his body and left the way she'd came. There were more prey to be found. ***** There were birds singing in the park. Ikari Shinji sat down on a bench to listen. It wasn't so much that he was fond of birdsong as that he had nothing else to do at the moment. No tests were scheduled at Nerv this afternoon, and if he went home there would be nothing but Misato snoring and Pen-Pen hogging the bathroom. His friends were with their families, while his fellow pilots had gone off on their separate ways: Rei to gods-knew-where and Asuka to the mall. He linked his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. A weight settled down beside him on the bench. He wouldn't have cared if he hadn't felt the warmth of the body associated with that weight, sitting far too close to be a stranger. It was probably Asuka, happening by and deciding to play a trick. Not to wrap her arms about him and lay her head on his shoulder, of course; that only happened in dreams. He opened his eyes. The person sitting next to him wasn't Asuka. Nor was it Misato. Nor Rei. She might have been his own age, or a few years older. Despite the heat of the day, she wore heavy black clothing of a vaguely military cut, like something an anime character might wear. She was looking directly at him, a smile of peculiar sweetness quirking her lips. "Hello?" he said cautiously. "You can see me?" ***** Megaera sighed. A long day of hunting and killing was finally over. She had avenged billions of lives over the past several hours, but she felt like vomiting. Alas, that was one mortal comfort denied her. As was getting drunk. The city was called Tokyo-3. She wondered what had happened to the first two. Probably destroyed and rebuilt-- mortals did that, although this habit of sticking numbers onto the end of the name was a bit unusual. Usually they either kept the old one or whoever had taken the place called it something completely different. There was a small grassy space with trees and benches and a fountain, a welcome relief among the concrete. The wind brought the scent of growth to her, and she smiled slightly, remembering happier times when she and her heart-sisters had gone in mortal guise, dancing in Arcadian meadows, swimming in brooks, sometimes finding a pretty and willing lad or lass. As it happened, there was a fetching young fellow sitting alone. His hair was shorter than she liked, and she didn't think much of his dull clothes, but she quite fancied the look of his face. He wouldn't see her, of course; the mortals here didn't, save for her targets. She remembered a philosopher who'd talked of the human ability to ignore what oughtn't be; that might be the key to it. It wasn't a bad thing, really; in other times she'd never get within a dozen paces, not in her present form. She would sit down beside him and rest for a moment. He smelled nice. She'd move just a hair closer-- if he felt her at all, he'd only think there'd been a sudden current of air. ***** "Yes. Why shouldn't I?" Her tone was incredulous. "Because at least fifty people today haven't." "Oh." He realised that her face was heavily scarred. It wasn't right that people ignored her because of something she couldn't help. Touji-kun's sister was scarred because of his own stupid error. "I'm sorry." She smiled. "It's not _your_ fault." She had a nice voice. Maybe it was a little bit like what Asuka's would be if she weren't angry all the time. Or Rei's, if she had more emotion. Or even Misato's, if she were sober and unstressed. They sat quietly for some minutes. Shinji pretended to watch the pigeons, all the while stealing quick glances at the stranger beside him. ***** She didn't often meet genuinely nice people; it was one of the drawbacks of her profession. All the more reason to get to know this one. "So, do you come here often?" He started slightly. "Not really." "'Tis pity. It's one of the prettiest places I've seen here." "Oh." He didn't. "So, are you from here?" "Not really." "I'm not, myself. Just passing through. What brings you here?" "I didn't have anything else to do." She laughed. "I meant to this city." "Well... my father told me to come here..." ***** Shinji thought. It didn't make any sense; he'd never been much for opening up to people at all, particularly complete strangers. She was like... an old friend he'd never met before. A flash of red drew his attention. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. ***** A sudden flare of anger lit up the ambient. Megaera's senses reached out to the adorable redhead at its center. "Whyever for?" she queried. "She's going to throw a fit. You'll probably catch some of it." "Not if I can help it," she said quietly. Then, raising her voice, "Why don't you come over and join us? There's plenty of room." Her eyes widened. "Excuse me?" Megaera patted the bench. "Sit between us, why don't you?" "Ummm-- " "Sit! I certainly don't bite, and I don't think your friend does, does he?" "Ah, well, no..." the girl stammered as she settled into place. "At least not _hard_, I suspect. Maybe you'd have a better idea?" Both of them flushed quite fetchingly. "So, you're Asuka, right?" "Errr... yeah." "Call me Meg." ***** "Commander Ikari?" Ayanami Rei knocked at the heavy wooden door. There was no response. After a moment, she reached for the knob. "Commander?" He was slumped over the desk. No wonder; he'd been very busy lately. Her business wasn't important enough to wake him. She sat down in a straight-backed wooden chair to wait. ***** Asuka giggled. It was a nice sound, very different to her usual mocking laugh. She really was cute. And so was Meg, scars or no. a small voice whispered inside him. ***** It had been nearly two hours. The Commander had a meeting that afternoon. She had best to wake him. "Sir?" No response. "Commander Ikari?" She laid her hand carefully on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Commander." He didn't like to be touched. No reaction. She shook lightly. His head lolled to the side, eyes open. She had seen that look before, somewhere. "Commander? "Sir? "Father?!" ***** Meg smiled, and her battered face was a thing of radiant beauty. "Oh, Emil Fischbein Strasse! In Heidelburg? I've been there. Tell me, is that wonderful patisserie still in business?" "The one across from Sankt Cornelius Kirche?" "No, that was a gunsmith's when I was there. The place I'm thinking of was near the park. The one where the duels were fought, yes?" Asuka blinked. "I don't think I remember that one." "It has been a long time. Tell me, does the one you were talking about make good linzertorte?" Meg draped her arm about her shoulders, and she forgot her puzzlement. No one had been this close to her in so long... not since Bernadette. It felt nice. Except something was missing. Before she quite realised what she was doing, she reached out and pulled Shinji against her other side. He resisted a moment before relaxing into her grip. That was better. "Yes, but their creampuffs are the best." Shinji's arm slipped around her back. She'd never really touched him before, except as a joke. That was a mistake: he was cuddly. She should have done this a long time ago. And maybe sometime soon she'd do something more. some tiny part of her mind screamed in a last desperate bid for life, before being squashed entirely. She rubbed her cheek against first his shoulder, then Meg's. ***** BREAK ***** "Thank you, sweet ones," Meg whispered, soft so as not to wake them. "Take care of each other." She kissed each brow, and tucked the blanket around their shoulders. "Meg?" The blue-haired girl opened her red eyes. "Will you.. be back?" "Not here. But we will see each other again, all of us." "When?" "Even the great gods and goddesses don't know everything, Rei-chan. And I'm no more powerful than you. Just a little older. But sometimes the One above Them puts knowledge in our hearts. I don't know when, and I don't know where, but I know this isn't the last we'll see of each other." "We'll miss you." "Shhh. Don't cry, Rei-chan." ***** "Damn it, another night alone," Misato muttered as she fumbled with the key. She wasn't drunk, not really: just tired and unhappy. Another useless evening with useless people, slimy guys hitting on her, none of them half as cute as Shin-- _Kaji_-kun. The apartment was dark. And someone was moving. "Asuka? Shinji?" She reached for the light switch. "What the hell?" The woman was tiny, barely more than a meter and a half. And lovely... not really beautiful in a conventional sense, but fresh and sweet-faced, her brown hair pulled back into a long braid. Misato had known a girl like that in school, a Scottish diplomat's daughter. Half the class had been in love with her. "Major Katsuragi?" She was dressed in black, like a spy in an old movie, and she moved like... They'd shared a bottle of wine, the last night, and wound up in bed; angrily, Misato pushed the pleasant memory of warm arms and sweet schoolgirlish kisses aside, her hand reaching inside her jacket. "Who are you, and why the hell are you in my flat?" "Take good care of them, Major. They deserve it." She stood frozen as the stranger rose up on tiptoe to kiss her lightly on the cheek. "Good night." And she was gone, fading away between one moment and the next. She hurried to the bedrooms. Asuka's was empty, the unmade bed occupied only by a stuffed monkey and an open manga anthology Her heart in her mouth, she slid Shinji's door open. "How adorable..." she couldn't help but murmur. Rei was in the middle, her fellow pilots' arms clasped protectively around her. Their three heads shared one pillow. There was a fourth depression in the futon, behind Asuka's pale freckled back. Obviously, it was time she was in bed. ***** Megaera dropped her clothes on the floor, ignoring them as they vanished. Carefully, she lifted the covers and slipped beneath. "Meg?" "I didn't mean to wake you, Tis," she whispered. "'S all right. Come in the middle." "I don't want to rouse 'Lecta." "She'll not mind." "All right." Megaera climbed over her heart-sister's body amd was promptly embraced Still asleep, Alecta snuggled against her back. "So, sweetheart, how was it?" "Not so bad, for once." "What happened? You usually hate killing." "Some younglings were very kind to me." "That's good." She yawned. "Love you, Meg." "Love you, Tis." ********** Megaera, Tisiphone, and Alecta are, obviously, the Kindly Ones. In other words, the Furies. These characterisations are mine, although elements of Meg's appearance are probably derived from those of the nameless Fury in Alexander Jablokov's "The Fury at Colonus." Reading this excellent short story (found on his website) and David Weber's _Path of the Fury_ probably had something to do with the genesis of this fanfiction.