Surreptitious

Hi Guys! Sorry to make you come back to the beginning but this fic needed major renovating as its dramatic as hell- it still is, but now it flows better and uses better grammar, language, flow etc. Nothing major changed besides those but more insight on Docs' perspective was given and Zak's was altered, and its all improved. Ill be working on the others as well, I won't continue on the next arc until its completed because i fear once i stop revising i won't return, though its not difficult as the chapters aren't horribly long. Updated: 6/25/2018

Doc, looking back on all of his years, generally trusted fact and logic over luck and mysticism. Dating, and later his marriage with Drew might have led him and his beliefs astray. He eventually began to think his family was untouchable- well, he didn't take it quite to that level, rather they seemed to have an insatiable well of luck on their side. So most situations he'd brush off and continue on, after all, no one was ever hurt. Throughout all of the skirmishes, they managed to find themselves in they came out healthy and closer than when they went in. Which led to his lax, almost carefree, attitude about his profession.

Today had been the day his so-called logic was hurled up and shot in his face. His son, by some freak force of probability, was an ancient cryptid called Kur. His first hypothesis was that the cryptid was simply caged in his sons' body. This hypothesis was later reconsidered during their first run-in with the Nagas.

The Naga's didn't want Zak's cryptid powers but rather his son in his wholesomeness. They had wanted a boy - not even twelve at the time- a human boy to lead the march towards humanities extinction.

For a number of reasons, the first being no, their family wouldn't let that happen.

Circumstances, take them as they were, didn't always go the way he planned. So now as he stood over his son watching his wife and brother in law weep with unrestrained grief and anger, he felt his walls crumble. He had several Ph.D.'s, year's of college courses, renowned as one of the greatest scientists of his time; and yet he was powerless to save his son. No medical procedure could help him, they had restarted his heart but they couldn't restore a soul. Traitorous, unethical even, thoughts flittered back and forth as he continued to gaze upon his son's lifeless body.

He finally released his hold on the deliberator. It was a gambit that failed. For all extent and purposes, his son would remain an empty shell no matter how many times they restarted his heart or forced oxygen in his lungs. And of course, none of this would have happened if he hadn't allowed his pregnant wife to an extraction site. Would it? Would Zak still have had the powers he had?

Were the Naga's right when they claimed that Kur did not reside in Zak but rather was Zak?

The secret scientist would be happy then, he mused darkly, they stopped the ancient evil. The ancient evil who called most of them his aunt's and uncles'.

The eerie screech of the flatline echoed through the medbay; no one had the guts to turn the machine off. Fiskerton had glued himself to the edge of the bed watching with wide red eyes, murmurs flowed from his trembling mouth, and Doc knew they couldn't stay like this forever. Moving closer to Fisk he rested a hand on his arm, "Fiskerton… None of this is your fault, you know that right?"

Although he directed the question to the so-called "Kur guardian" he projected it to the rest of his family. His reassurances came out hollow, if this was the feeling of victory, of finally defeating Argost- then he didn't want it.

He saw the effects that flute had on his son- the screams, they would haunt him. In his son's last moments Doc wasn't there. None of them were. They had been too worried about Van Rook, took their time with the Naga's, ran down the wrong trail. They had all known that Zak had, on more than one occasion, went toe to toe with Argost and come out the victor. Why would the last time be any different?

Argost cheated. It was a childish thing; cheating, but really, who expected a villain to play fair?

He glanced at the clock.

2:59

At 2:59 Doc gave up. At 2:59 Zachariah Saturday had been proclaimed dead.

It was dark.

But it was hot - like really hot, Zak swore he was being burnt alive.

A familiar burnt orange flooded his senses, it entered slowly through his nose and swarmed out his mouth, it wasn't his power, it was a presence.

There was something, someone, there with him. Breathing, living, coexisting.

They thrummed with power - he himself thrummed with power. But he knew this being. It was him, not him, a part of him that was there since birth.

Kur.

It shouldn't be possible though; Kur was gone, but not, because he was Kur wasn't he? Kur wasn't gone because they weren't separate. Kur was a part of him.

Zak was Kur, therefor Kur was Zak.

And by law, what was bound, would not be broken.

They were one, but they were not the same.

Either or - They would thrive.

They would survive.

The air that rushed down his esophagus burned his lungs. It was crisp and sterile. Fluorescent light blinding him as his hand threw itself around his throat to relieve the burning sensation. One sense after another overwhelmed him. A high pitched 'beep' fluctuated over and over making his ears ring. He could practically hear his bones creak as he rolled his shoulders to relieve the pressure and- was it odd to say his skin felt too tight?

Heat flooded through his veins fueling the fire that burned in his chest. His eyes were stinging and throbbing. Raising a hand to his head in attempts to relieve the pressure that was beginning to build he looked around him. Six figures lurched forward but paused almost hesitantly. Orange and black began to figure into focus, he could now make out the forms of his family.

"Guys? Hello?" He asked sarcastically once he saw all of their eyes on him. If this was their way of welcoming him back from the land of the living, at least he thought he was alive again, he didn't appreciate it one bit. Which made him question if he actually died? Made he just passed out? It was admittedly blurry.

Fisk had moved first, a lanky arm reaching behind him for a tray, flipping the reflective surface up the Gorilla-cat held it out for Zak's eyes to see. Zak gasped and flinched back - his reflection was off, his eyes were ablaze with his power- no, no they weren't. His eyes were no longer dark pits but rather an orange similar to his shirt.

"Sheesh! I mean yeah this probably isn't a good thing, but you guys had me freaked out about my eyes changing color! You nearly scared me to death. Pun not intended." Slumping back he leaned into the touch of a rubber glove that rested itself on his shoulder.

Looking to the wary face of his mother he was taken back when she produced a small light pin and scanned it over his eye," Zak… changes like this aren't normal. Sweetie, you were... You didn't survive. It's amazing but- it's not. You shouldn't be alive right now." The resigned tone made him flinch. His heartbeat sped up to the point of hearing the blood rush through his ears. He thought it was just the idea of him not living that caused his unnormal heartbeat but the hair standing on the back of his neck told him otherwise. It was like his cryptid sense- something was nearby, and it was close. Pushing away his mother's hand he jerked back and eyed the room warily.

"Zak, just calm down- we'll figure out what happened." He ignored his dad. Something was wrong.

He saw a flicker of orange in the corner of his eye and chills shot straight up his back.

"Zak?" It was Doyle. Just Doyle. There was nothing-

A roar echoed in his ears and suddenly, he felt very unsafe.

Zak screamed as something burrowed into his body, the burn in his chest magnifying as that thing made itself at home, a migraine like no other burrowed in his skull as his hands flew to his mouth. His teeth felt horribly heavy and the crisp smell of the air burned his nostrils. Zak forced his eyes closed as the unnatural light threatened to blind him completely. Along his spine tingled and his legs twitched as the feeling spread to his hips.

He could feel it moving inside of him- like a parasite, it was leeching off of him, changing him. Though the changes didn't feel wrong. If Zak was being honest he was slowly becoming more- stable? The feeling- it's worming, it felt welcoming. He didn't want it to stop.

"Doyle! Hold him down!"

A scream tore from his dry throat as he felt hands grip onto the material of his shirt; he was thrashing, fighting to get away from their prying hands, he recognized his father's large hands on his shoulders and the sound of his uncle calling his name but the panic was too much. Their names slipped away from his fingers just like their influence. He didn't want them to have him. They would try to take him away again.

The sounds congested in his ears and made a dull ringing sound - they were subduing him!

Yelling out he felt a blast of his energy leave him as he connected with the Lumerian, a part of him felt guilty as he wormed his way into his -brother's?- head but he needed to get out of here fast, feeling fuzzy hands scoop him up he was vaguely aware of the wind gliding through his hair and his humans calling him before he blacked out.

When Zak finally came to he could finally breathe easier. He could smell the rain in the air and wear the grass below him rustling in the breeze. Exhaling through his mouth he coughed as furry strands entered his mouth. That was unpleasant.

Opening his eyes he sputtered and fell back, the ground shook as he heard Fisk grumble in worry, holding him by the ankles sat his extremely upset looking brother. The so-called "ground" was actually a thick branch that he just about fell off of. Furrowing his eyebrows he shot Fisk with a glare. The 'mad' effect didn't really work out when you were hanging upside down.

Fisk sprung back closer to the trunk of the tree forcing Zak to swing through the air before landing ungracefully on his brothers' lap. With a huff he propped himself up and watched Fisk's hands fly here and there as he sputtered indignantly.

"Wherythnkkin!" The phantom cried as he threw his hands up in the air. Fisk continued to mumble out half-coherent sentences while jerking his hands around him in frustration.

"Woah, woah, woah! Fisk, buddy, just calm down! What do you mean, 'what was I thinking'? From the beginning - slowly." Patting his brother's arm he sat upright and listened while Fisk calmly retold the story.

"Wait so you're telling me that I told you to get me out of the room and run as far as you could? That doesn't make any sense! Why would I tell you to run away from mom and dad?" Crossing his arms he decided to focus on the rip in his black sleeve while Fisk moaned in frustration.

"Yeah, well, I mean I was overwhelmed, but still, I wouldn't have ran away. And would you stop staring at me like that!? What is it? Do I have something on my face or?"

Without responding to his question the taller of the two scooped Zak into his arms and jumped down from their perch on the tree. His brother's red eyes scanned the forest before landing on a shallow stream. Grumbling in satisfaction he plopped Zak down and gestured to the water.

Sighing he complied to the request and ducked down so he could see his reflection, so his eyes were orange. They established that back in the medbay. No biggie, they looked cool.

Shrugging his shoulders back he turned back to his brother, "Yeah okay, it's a little weird but nothing to freak out over, I mean we see weirder things than this on the daily." The overgrown cat shook its head and used his hands to pull down his lower lip showing off his set of sharp white teeth. Letting go of his mouth he motioned for Zak to do the same.

"Teeth? My teeth are fine Fisk, see?" For emphasis, he smiled in the water's surface to see his normally dulled teeth, "You see? Nothing wrong with my - ack!" Leaning closer he saw that his canines had extended. The dull points had sharpened considerably and his tongue had accidentally swept too close to his teeth resulting in a small nick, "Ouch."

"Alright, Fisk I see your point. It's not like this is dangerous though. I mean, a magical flute tried to suck the soul out of me so if this is the drawback- I'm fine with it. Really. Nothing to worry about. But, I was expecting to you know...die," He whispered the word softly, only now was he realizing that he had essentially planned his death, "but I didn't. And if I really did control you, then my powers aren't gone either."

His hands trembled but he quickly hid it by grabbing onto the hem of his shirt.

"Besides, I think, when Argost tried to absorb my power, it reversed the polarity of the Devonian Annelids. When Zak Monday and I were in a room together everything disregarded the rules of physics. So Argost must have acted like a Magnet, right? Wait no, maybe? Technically our powers were the same, even if we were the opposite of each other! Okay, I got it. We were both (+)'s! So when he absorbed my power it slingshotted itself back because only opposites attract." He rambled as his brain worked overtime to get away from the dark pit that was forming. But Fisk- he wasn't the greatest conversational partner. His own brain was busy working on if the theory was plausible.

And without a distraction? The 'what-if's' invaded. When it came down it, Zak attempted to give his life away for the greater good.

Zak had been ready to die.

He had tried to kill himself for the greater good.

Zak died to stop Argost from taking over.

Zak died to get rid of the monster.

But Zak was the monster and he was still alive.