Won't say I own it. Don't sue me.

Orpheus

I

It started with a question.

"What do you want to do?"

She didn't know how he'd answer. What frightened her most about the quiet, shy boy that was sharing her life was that he was completely unpredictable. Most of the time, he'd apologize if she, or anyone else, looked at him wrong. He was eager to please. He was a toadying little lickspittle who followed after anyone who gave him any kind of affection without demanding anything at all in return. Yet, inside that quiet exterior was a raging battle god. He's almost killed himself twice to save her life, and why? She treated him like garbage, and she knew it, and if you asked, she couldn't tell you why. He's shown some backbone when she first arrived, but lately, he'd grown more reserved. If it was as if the weight of all of it was starting to crack him.

She wasn't completely sure why she was even talking to him. She was in a bit of a mood. Some moron her friend's sister set her up with had wanted to play grab-ass at the carnival, but Asuka wasn't that kind of girl. She expected someone a little older to show some sophistication, but he was just another bumbling, grasping teenager, nothing in his brain but his interest in what was between her legs. She was stuck there alone with him. She could have gone out, but what was the point? There was nowhere to go in this place. She wasn't home.

She was here. With him. Alone. He didn't even look at her. Why that bothered her, so she couldn't quite say.

"Hey, Shinji," she said, loud enough this time that he would hear. "Do you want to kiss?"

He looked up from his kitchenly putterings, and with his usual eloquence and verbosity said "What?"

"A kiss. You've never kissed, right? Let's do it."

"Why?"

She shrugged. "I'm bored."

"Because you're bored? But-"

She cut him off. "You don't want to kiss a girl on the anniversary of your mom's death? Are you afraid she's watching you from heaven?"

Ouch. It rolled out so easily, so bitingly, so smoothly, right off of the cuff. She winced inside but didn't show it, instead keeping her eyes locked on his. She wouldn't let him get away. If he wasn't going to make a move, she would make him. She'd show him. He needed her. She was needed. He needed her.

"Not really," he said.

Heat flared in her cheeks. How could he say that?

"Or are you scared?" she goaded. Boys are so easy to work with, sometimes.

"I'm not scared of a little kiss!" he retorted, a little heat in his voice now. That did it. So predictable. Challenge him, and he put away his false exterior of modesty and servile scraping and the real Shinji came out. She knew it.

"You brushed your teeth, didn't you?" she said. Set the hook, bring him in.

He nodded, either because he had nothing else to say or he was too choked up from nerves to talk. He was already blushing, closing his eyes in anticipation. What did he think this was, a movie? She moved in close, and felt a tingle on her upper lip. The idiot's breathing was tickling her. She was going to make an ass out of herself, start giggling and ruin it. She grabbed his nose.

"Don't breathe. It tickles."

It wasn't what she expected. They were just mashing their lips together. It kind of hurt a little. He didn't do anything. He was supposed to dip her or… something. Why was he just standing there. She could feel tension, the shaking in his arms. The little shit was clenching his fists. If he didn't like it, he should just say so.

She broke off. She ran. She got to the bathroom and caught a glimpse of him standing there, saw him in the mirror with his blank expression on his face. He didn't chase after her. He didn't try to comfort her. He didn't try to fight off her lame tickling excuse and really kiss her. He didn't care. It was over.

She brushed her teeth, like Pilate washed his hands.

"Definitely not something to do to kill time," she snapped.

II

It burned. Oh God, it burned. She clutched at her throat, the LCL swishing in and out as she took ragged gasps. A thin trickle of blood from her throat twisted in the orange liquid in front of her, a tiny spiral in the darkness of the silent entry plug. It cut off her head. It cut off her head. She had to stop and stare at her hands, just sit there looking at her crimson gloves, reassure herself that she was still alive. Before they cut the connection, she felt her own head turning, end over end, spiraling away, and her heart clenched like a giant making a fist in her chest.

Two technicians in orange jumpsuits pulled her out. She'd never seen them before. No Misato, no bridge techs, not even that little doll bitch. They treated her like an employee. When she made it out and wandered into the cage and saw everyone standing around Unit One, she knew why. They didn't have to tell her. He'd saved them all again, saved her, but something was different this time. Something was off. No one noticed her walk up behind the crowd in her plugsuit. She slowed, wishing she could stop but unable to. When she saw Misato on her knees in front of the machine weeping bitterly, she knew. She looked up into the monstrosity's cold eyes and remembered, remembered the day it tore free of the Twelfth Angel, remembered the thing inside.

She ran.

She wasn't running because she was scared. Or upset. She was running to run, to get away. No one even cared if she was hurt or upset anyway, they were too busy obsessing over stupid Shinji after he went and got himself killed or whatever. She ran and ran until she came to a panting stop in the apartment, leaned on her knees. Her belly felt like it was trying to hug her spine and she was close to retching, and she'd technically stolen her plugsuit- they'd never let her wear it off base before; not that she'd particularly wanted to.

She looked up and saw the door and saw the stupid little heart sign Misato drew, Shinji's Lovely Suite, and she punched it, put her fist right through the rice paper with a loud thwap. It was thicker than she'd thought. It actually hurt. She clutched her fist.

Misato didn't say anything when she found Asuka in the shower, still in her plugsuit, under a cold spray. There was nothing to be said.

III

She wore her school uniform even though she didn't go to school. She got up at regular time and sat at the kitchen table. When she was able, Misato would slur her way out of her bedroom and sit there opposite. There was nothing to eat until she made it herself, and since he'd gone, Misato's diet consisted of anything with alcohol in it and more alcohol. There was still a chance, she'd said. He was still in the Eva, somehow, whatever that meant. Asuka didn't want to think about that.

Neither one of them spoke.

"I'm going to work," Misato said thickly, got up, and walked out.

It had been seven days.

"I can't take this," she said to the empty apartment.

The bird made his noise. Stupid fucking bird.

She kicked it. It made an irritated sound and crawled back in the icebox Misato kept for it. She hated it, now more than ever.

Why was she upset? He wouldn't even hold her.

You didn't hold him, either.

She sighed and took a bite of toast. It was overdone. How the hell did he make toast better than she did? It's pushing a button.

He didn't care. He just stood there.

Maybe he was afraid. You treat him like shit.

"Shut up," she muttered to herself.

IV

"We have an idea," the bottle-blonde said, "but it's dangerous. We're asking you to volunteer."

Asuka stared at the woman. They didn't talk much, mostly business. They'd exchange maybe three words during synch tests. Asuka could tell she hated her. The woman was dumber, older, and uglier than she was, and knew it. With her youth, beauty, and intelligence on her side, Asuka was the superior being, and elicited jealousy wherever she went. She was used to it.

"Why should I?" she snapped. "He wouldn't do it for me."

The laboratory was very silent. Very cold. People were staring at her.

The scientist went on anyway. "Synching is a finicky process. With the MAGI's help, using Unit Two as a buffer, we might be able to synch you with him, rather than the Eva. Help him reconstitute himself.

Asuka stared at her for a moment. It sounded crazy. "No," she said immediately. "Get Rei to do it. Maybe his little girlfriend can bring him back. He doesn't want anything to do with me."

"Asuka," Misato said quietly. "Go outside. In the hallway."

"What-"

"Now."

She shrugged her shoulders and walked outside. She kept them hunched, until Misato caught her by surprise. The older woman spun her around and shoved her hard into the wall, and jammed her arm up under Asuka's chin. She was a millimeter away from pressure on her windpipe. She could have killed her.

"You little shit."

She tried to croak something, but Misato pushed just hard enough to stop the words before they got all the way out.

"That boy worships you. Don't you see the way he looks at you?" tears were staring to work down her cheeks. "God, no one has ever looked at me like that."

"Kaji," Asuka managed to croak.

"Shut the fuck up about Kaji," Misato growled. "A dozen Kajis couldn't equal one Shinji. He'd die for you. Don't you get that? He was ready to leave. He was free. You know when he came back? When that thing cut your head off. You're going to help him if I have to shove my hand in the back of your skull and talk through you like a sock puppet. Do you get me?"

"It's my decision," she wheezed as Misato released her. "I'm not doing it."

Misato stared at her. "Fine. We'll get Rei. I don't think it'll work, though. The Commander probably won't allow it."

"Of course not," Asuka snapped. "She's the favorite."

"You don't get it, do you?" Misato hissed. "The one person that puts up with your shit, and you won't lift a finger to help him. I wouldn't be having this discussion with him. Think about that. Now get the fuck out of here, before I break your neck."

Without another word, Misato turned and walked back into the lab, leaving Asuka alone in the hallway. She stood there for a minute, straightened her hair, and started walking. She pressed the button for the elevator and stood there. They were so damned slow, what did they spend all the money on in this place? An express elevator the center of the Earth would be nice. The door opened. She smelled the cologne before she saw him.

No. Not now.

She couldn't handle it. He didn't stay anything. He just stood there, sloppy grin, untucked shirt, that ugly, loosened tie. Just stared at her.

Asuka wept.

"What's wrong?"

He put his hand on the elevator door to listen to her while it all spilled out. He didn't move, his expression didn't change, and he didn't even seem to breathe. After she finished, there was a pregnant silence. He stood like a statue.

"Sounds like you have a decision to make."

"Yeah," she said thickly.

"Get in the elevator, or not. Help, or don't."

"What do you think?"

"To be brutally honest?"

"Whatever."

"You don't deserve him."

He pulled back his hand.

The elevator doors closed.

V

"Asuka, for the last time, this is a volunteer operation. I want to be clear on that."

She sat in the cold, empty entry plug and nodded. She didn't feel like talking. The plugsuit itched and it was bunched up around her crotch and her knees and she kept telling them the chest was too small and the hips a little too big and they never listened to her. Somehow, none of that ever bothered her before. She slipped the nerve clips into place. They were a little bigger, a little bulkier. Akagi said she'd modified them, to help with the buffer effect. The LCL started to come in. The smell choked her up.

"I can't tell you what to expect, what you'll see or feel," she said. "We've never remotely attempted anything like this before. Just try to communicate with him. It might be a feeling, or a smell, even. Just relax."

She barked out a small, quiet laugh at that.

"We're starting. Passing absolute borderli-"

VI

She opened her eyes with a gasp. The plug, the Eva, all of it was gone. She didn't feel synched with anything. What she did feel was a cool breeze on her face, and tiny stings all across her cheeks and her scalp. As the snowflakes touched her, they melted, and were already beginning to melt down and slick her hair to her scalp. She stood up, feeling the cold through her buttocks from where she sat on the ground, and looked around. She looked all around, and recognized this place. Their apartment was up the street. Where the hell was she? It never snowed in Tokyo-3.

She looked up and saw a light on the veranda, like a halo in the falling snow. She headed for it. The door to the complex was different. It just opened, no passcode. She slid it open and stepped inside, and found the air within drier if not any warmer. She padded up the stairs and realized she was barefoot, dressed only in the yellow sundress she'd worn that day on the aircraft carrier.

Their door was different. There was no keypad, and it looked… like wood, not the fancy metal sliding security door on their apartment. With no doorbell and no pad and no key to use, she just knocked. The sound rang hollow behind the door, and she waited a time before knocking again.

A smiling woman a little shorter than her opened the door. She had her brown hair in a bob, sort of the way Rei wore it but a little longer, and smiled warmly. She was dressed in an apron and a housecoat and had, believe it or not, a tray of cookies in her hand, clasped in oven mitts.

"Hello?" she said. "I think you have the wrong apartment, miss…?"

Asuka leaned over and glanced past her.

There he was, just sitting there at the table, working on something- schoolwork probably. He looked up and met her eyes. No recognition flickered there. He looked at her quizzically, maybe a little admiringly.

"Mom?" he called. "Who is it?"

The woman looked at her, her gaze somehow triumphant. "A stranger, my love. No one to worry about."

She leaned forward and whispered in Asuka's ear. "Just leave him alone."

The door slammed closed in her face. She fell to her knees.

VII

Her eyes flew open and she sat up, spitting out a choking breath of LCL. It had gone cold, and was draining around her with a hiss. She almost vomited as she purged the rest of it and took a ragged gasp of air. The first words to tumble out of her mouth were, "How long was I gone?"

"Gone?" Akagi said. "Asuka, we aborted. It didn't work. The connection was rejected. Something is blocking us. Should we…"

"No," she whispered. "He's happy. Leave him alone."

"What?"

"Get me out of here."

The plug ejected and she swayed with the movement, then climbed out, her legs trembling under her. She wandered into the locker room and sat there, leaned up against the lockers, on the floor. Time passed. She didn't bother trying to figure out how much. Misato walked in.

"Asuka," she said. "I'm sorry about what I said before. What you did just now was very brave. It's not your fault that-"

"Yes it is," she whispered, barely more than mouthing the words. "Go away."

Misato looked at her for a moment, brushed tears out of her eyes, and walked away slowly, unsteadily.

An alarm went off. Asuka rose to her feet, stumbled against the lockers, and walked out into the cage just in time to see the Evangelion lurch. The entry plug rotated up and out and the hatch opened, spilling precious fluid everywhere to mingle with the great pool of it below, as if it never was. Shinji's soaked uniform shirt slid to the decking, and Misato fell to her knees, clutching it.

She ran to the nose of the Evangelion, if it could be called that.

"God damn you!" she screamed, "God! Damn! You!" she shouted until she was hoarse, punctuating each word by battering it with her tiny fists. "I hate you! I hate you!"

She sobbed. "I hate you."

Someone coughed. She froze. Misato was staring behind her, her eyes wide, her lips trembling. Asuka slowly turned around.

"Asuka?" said Shinji.