There were no dreams for Asuka. No nightmares, no fancies, or memories. Simply void, black and empty. Somehow, that seemed worse to her. She seemed to float in that vast emptiness with no direction, no gravity. There was no up or down, just the black. The suffocating, blanketing, snug dark all around her.
She wondered if she was dead. She decided that she probably was. That little tiff in the bath must have done it. The men in the suits…an illusion. Dying delusions. The trip to the Med Center…the talk and the Talk…the Medicine to Make It Quiet….
All made up. None of it was real. That was that, and this was this. No more Eva. No more Angels. No more stupid Misato, or stupid penguin, or godawful Wondergirl. No more stupid, idiot, not-here-to-save-her Shinji.
…No Kaji. No Mama.
Just her and eternity. A black space in front of her, behind her, above and below and inside and out and now she was afraid. She felt that fear, the fear that this was it. Eternity in the black, alone and ignored. Alone. Alone, and forgotten, and there never was an Asuka Langley Soryu, because she can’t Pilot, and Shinji can, so forget about her, she’s worm food now, and feeding worms. Something about that made her feel so…upset. And hurting, and fearful, and she wanted a do-over. She wanted to redo that decision in the ruins of that apartment, next to that tub. She wanted to go back, so she didn’t have to be here.
She wanted Shinji to make her donburi.
“She’s coming around,” a Fake Voice murmured in the Vast Empty, and she knew it wasn’t real. It meant she was starting to hear things, so clearly she was going insane. You could go crazy in death, especially if you were crazy to begin with, and Asuka knew she was crazy. She was not right in the head. She was a messed up thing, she was broken and warped and definitely not a good little girl, because if she was than she would be able to Pilot the Eva, Pilot like she was supposed to. So she was crazy. It was right for her to be getting crazier. To go fruit-loop loopy in death.
“Second Child? Can you open your eyes?”
Sure, why not? She obeyed the Fake Voice, and felt a shudder as bright white brightness flooded her skull. She whimpered, and felt her heart racing. Slowly, shapes seemed to appear in the haze, stereo focused and not clear. Two by two, they floated around her. She tried to raise a hand to ward them off, but the arm barely left her side. She focused on that arm, feeling cotton beneath it, something hard and scratchy on her wrist. Both wrists. Cotton everywhere. Bedsheets. Chemical smell.
Heart beating. Beating faster. Sounds and noise and light. She wasn’t dead.
She didn’t know if she was relieved or disappointed, but she wasn’t dead, and that was for certain.
“There she is…dilation seems good.” A bright light in one eye…and then the other.
“Stop,” she mumbled. The lights were too bright, and there was too much motion. Too much fury in her eyes. It overwhelmed her. The shapes, however, did not hear her, and so they did not stop.
“She’s still groggy…a little more adrenaline,” a voice said, and her heart raced. Gasping, her vision focused abruptly, and she knew where she was. The Med Center was real. The men in the suits were real. She was here, and she had not killed herself.
“Welcome back, Second Child,” a female nurse said, “How are you feeling?”
Asuka made a sound halfway between a croak and a whimper.
“That’ll wear off,” the nurse said. “Let’s try and get you up.” Something felt off. Something felt confusing, and not right, and Asuka didn’t know what it was. She thought it might be with the nurse waking her up and trying to get her to walk. She should stay in bed, right? That’s what you did in a hospital, you stayed in the bed. Maybe they were trying to get her active for some reason? Part of the treatment?
She glanced around, and saw Wondergirl staring at her with her stupid, vacant expression. Asuka grimaced, and tried to cover her face with her hands. She didn’t want to be seen like this. She didn’t want Rei to see her like this.
“Come on, a few more steps,” the nurse coaxed, and Asuka wobbled onto her bare soles like a newborn foal, all knobby knees and shuddering limbs. She found the equilibrium of the world to be fluid and inconsistent, and she tilted wildly into the arms of her handlers. They assisted her in circling the space near her bed, little awkward half-steps and stumbles. As they circled, Asuka became aware that Rei was not the only person in the room. There were other people, and they had guns. There were…a lot of guns. A lot of people with guns.
And Rei.
Where was Baka? Where was Shinji? That seemed so important to her, and she didn't know why.
“What? What?” Asuka mumbled in confusion, her words sticking in her throat like toffee. They didn’t sound like words, and so the nurse and her assistant ignored them. The entire time, Asuka felt the heat of those red eyes boring into her, and she shivered in humiliation and shame. The armed people, some ignoring her and some watching her, bore down on her. She felt like crying, but she wasn’t clear on how to do that.
Loud noises came from the entrance to the room, and she slowly turned her head in that direction. New people. New people with weapons. The one in front pointed at her. “Is she ready?”
“She can barely stand!” the nurse snapped.
“Then get a wheelchair; she’s going now,” the man said.
“She needs to stay in bed! She was under heavy sedation until only a few minutes ago!” the nurse protested. “And besides, she’s—”
“That’s not a request, and it’s not up for debate: get the wheelchair right frigging now,” he said. Asuka’s wide eyes darted between the two, and she felt very afraid. She didn’t know why, but she was wanting the comfort of that deep, dreamless sleep, knowing now that it was just that: a sleep. A temporary break from the world.
She wanted a break. Just a break.
A wheelchair was brought over to her, and she tried to plant her feet. To resist. Something about that chair spoke volumes of dread to her. “Noooo,” she moaned, as she was carried boneless to the chair and placed carefully in it. She turned and looked at the nurse. She had no idea who this woman was, but for a few minutes she had spoken up for her. Asuka’s words were coming back to her, and fixated on that nurse, with her brief kindness. “I need…I need to stay. Let me stay. I can’t go, I don’t want to,” she babbled.
“You’ll be fine, these people are here to help,” the nurse said, unconvincingly. Asuka felt such betrayal in that moment, and that’s when she remembered how to cry. She deflated like a balloon, feeling utterly abandoned, and rubbed at her face with limp hands. They wheeled her past Rei, and she heard them talk some more.
“Where does she go?”
“To the cell-blocks. The Major wants her under lock and key.”
“Not Piloting?”
“Nope.” Asuka was wheeled into the hall before she heard anymore. She was trundled at a rapid pace down the hallways, onto lifts, through corridors, and she wanted to go to sleep again, to forget that she was in this place. She wanted out, very badly. She wanted to be in that dreamless sleep again. It was then that she recognized these corridors, had memory of where she was. They wheeled her up to the locker rooms.
“No, no, please, I don’t…I can’t do this,” she mumbled.
“Get her ready, take her to the Ready Room,” the lead guard said, and two female guards lifted her by her arms.
“Please don’t!” she begged, as they not-too-gently guided her into the locker room, partly dragging and partly pushing. Her legs were working fine now, and her stumbling steps seemed automatic, as though her legs were betraying her. Had thrown in with these people against her. She tried to make them stop, but one step after another drove her forward…on and on.
When they rounded the corner, and she saw her red Plug Suit hanging on an open locker, Asuka began to sob.
-----
The two Security women were brisk and practical in their actions. They pulled off Asuka’s flimsy hospital gown, leaving her nude in the cold room. She didn’t fight back as they forced her into the Suit, but she didn’t help them either, and her undignified weeping seemed to be pushing buttons. One of them took that as resistance, and was clearly irritated with it. She was more rough in pulling the Suit on Asuka, and she was the one that fumbled with the compression switch on the girl's wrist when the Suit was finally sealed. The guard pulled at Asuka’s arm, bending it painfully as she tried to figure out the mechanism. The girl whimpered as the guard’s fingers pressed down on the cuts in her wrist, but she did not pull back.
The guard finally found the right button and pressed, and the Suit briefly ballooned and tightened skin slick. She released the arm, and Asuka hugged herself and cried, and cried, and cried. She felt exposed, and without walls. The Plug Suit may as well have not been there at all, and the rough dressing left her feeling pawed and violated.
“Why the hell is she bawling?” the Irritated Guard grunted. Her partner shrugged, seemingly torn between exhaustion, pity, and impatience. The Irritated Guard sighed. “All right, Princess, let’s go.”
“Lay off, she’s had a rough couple of days,” the other guard sighed.
“Who the hell hasn’t?” the Irritated Guard snapped. “Come on, Second Child, on your feet.” Asuka closed her eyes, and shook her head. She hugged herself and slumped forward, refusing to stand. Her sobbing had devolved into sniffles, and she shivered as the crying fit passed.
“No time to be nice,” the Irritated Guard hissed, and hooked an arm under Asuka’s arm pit. The other one sighed and did the same with the other arm as Asuka slumped between them.
“Please don’t,” the girl mumbled as the guards propelled her towards the locker room door. They pushed into the hallway, where the rest of the Security group was waiting. Asuka tried to pull back, not wanting to be seen. A strange, detached part of her mind seemed to be laughing at her.
“Everybody’s looking at you! Isn’t this what you always wanted?” it seemed to cackle at her. She didn’t want it right now; she wanted to hide. She wanted to be alone, and be left alone, and here in the midst of the group she felt naked and on display. Her heart was racing, and she felt her knees shivering as though she were cold.
“Here, she needs these,” another guard said, handing the Interface Headset to the Irritated Guard. “They clip into the hair.”
“Yeah, I know,” she grunted, accepting them and beginning to pull at Asuka’s hair. Asuka meekly put up a hand to resist, but the guard batted it away indifferently. The motion struck the girl’s wrist, and she winced as burning pain lanced from it down past her elbow. She closed her eyes and accepted the unpleasant tugging as the guard clipped the set into place.
“There,” she said.
“It’s uneven,” one of the other guards noted. And indeed, they were: they were off-centered and in places that Asuka did not like.
“So what?” the Irritated Guard said. “They just need to connect to the nerves in the scalp. They’re touching the scalp.”
“Fix them later,” the leader said. “We need to get her to the Ready Room.” Once again, rough arms grabbed Asuka, and forced her down the hall. Her traitorous feet helped them along, stumbling and sliding along the floor with a surreal eagerness that terrified Asuka. What would betray her next? Her hands? Her eyes? Which part of her would turn against her when she needed it the most?
As they turned a corner towards the Pilot Ready Room, Asuka noted with a vague sense of Otherness that there was brown smudges up and down the walls, and the floor. It looked as though someone had tried to scrub at them, and given up halfway. She thought how messy Nerv had become, and knew then and there it was an absurd thought, because that was blood.
She knew what blood looked like. She stumbled to a halt, staring at the stains and gasping as she was pulled forward. “Stop,” she said, and tried to pull back, but the action hurt her wrists, and it made the guards pull harder. “I don’t want to. I don’t want to anymore!” Her legs quit, and she slumped to her knees.
There was blood on the walls.
With grunts of irritation, the two guards dragging her hauled her off her feet as a third one wrapped his arms around her ankles and lifted them off the floor. Shrieking, Asuka begged them. Pleaded. “Please stop!” she sobbed. She didn’t want any of it anymore. She was done.
She didn’t want the Eva. She didn’t want the Angels. She wanted to go back to that oblivion, that safe, warm, dreamless place. She thought that was hell, but it seemed so much safer now.
The guards, of course, ignored her. The lights of the corridor passed above her, blurred through tears. With a jarring suddenness, the lights vanished, and she somehow knew she was in the darkened Ready Room. Roughly, they plopped her on a couch, and quickly exited the room. Part of her wanted to get up and run towards the door. Make a break for it. Run, run, run.
She curled up and covered her face. She stopped crying, because she felt she had drained the whole of her out. She was empty, tired, and terrified. She felt hands on her body, pulled and grabbing and pushing. She felt eyes on her, judging. Dismissing. Irritated. Dissecting.
She felt her Headset out of place and uneven. It seemed to throw all of her out of balance.
“…Asuka?” She peered through her fingers, and made out a slim shape in the gloom. Shinji was slumped on a stool, looking starved in his blue Plug Suit. His arms were crossed protectively over his chest, one hand gripping the opposite wrist. His eyes were full of concern.
She didn’t want to see that. She didn’t want concern. She didn’t want him to see her. She moaned, and covered her face. She tried to roll away from him, but she couldn’t. She settled for burrowing her face into the couch cushion, and hugged her head.
“Asuka?” he asked again, quietly. “Are…you okay?”
“Go awaaay,” she whimpered.
“I…can’t,” he mumbled. “I might have to Pilot. And Misato wants me here.”
“I don’t care,” she hissed. “I don’t want to anymore.” She heard shuffling in the room.
“I don’t, either,” he mumbled. “I don’t want to kill anyone.” There was a long silence that followed, and Asuka thought that maybe he had left. She heard him snuffle. “We might have to fight another Eva.”
Slowly, deliberately, Asuka turned her face towards him. From his perspective, he would only be able to see one crystal blue eye peering at him from beneath a mound of red hair. He swallowed.
“Nerv was going to try to end the world,” he said. “Well…not Nerv. Seele…those are people who funded Nerv. I don’t know all the details, but…my dad was one of them. My dad was trying to end the world.” He lowered his head. “Misato’s trying to stop them. But they may try to stop her. I…don’t want to kill another person.”
“Another…person?”
“I killed my best friend.” Shinji’s face did not change, but his eyes became watery. Tears began to form and drizzle down his cheeks. He snuffled. “He was an Angel. He was going to kill us, but he asked me to kill him first. I didn’t want to, but I did. I…was told I did the right thing. It didn’t feel right.”
“…what are you talking about?”
“You were…asleep,” Shinji mumbled, rubbing his eyes with his fists. Asuka’s arms drifted from her head and curled up in front of her. Her wrists ached. “His name was Kaworu. He was very kind.”
“…he was an Angel?”
“Yes.” Shinji turned away from her, staring at the screen that dominated the far wall. “He was very kind.” She considered that, her gaze drifting away from Shinji to some place beyond the room. Somewhere far away and unseen. “Everybody is gone,” Shinji mumbled. “Toji is gone. Kensuke is gone. I don’t think…Ayanami is Ayanami. Not anymore.” Shinji stared at his hands. “I don’t know who she is. I don’t know who I am. Not anymore.” He turned and looked at her. “Your Headset is all messed up.”
She said nothing. “Do you want me to fix it?”
“…yes.” Shinji stood up and crossed to the couch. He sat down next to her as she forced herself up on one arm. With careful but nerveless fingers, Shinji disentangled the Headsets and moved them to where they were supposed to be. He was very careful with her hair, and very gentle. She resented the gentleness. She craved it. She hated him for it, she was grateful to him for it, she was content, she was furious, she was sad, she was satisfied. He wasn’t Kaji, but he was Shinji.
“Why are you doing this?” she mumbled.
“They aren’t set right,” he said.
“No. Why are you being nice? Why are you always nice?” she murmured. The fingers stopped working for a second. Slowly, they started working again, careful and cautious. “Why?” she asked again, but Shinji didn’t answer.
In a strange way, Asuka was glad that he didn’t. She closed her eyes, and focused on the fingers. The careful, delicate, cautious fingers. She was hoping they wouldn’t stop.
Eventually, they did.
)
I felt queasy reading that. In other words, you did a fantastic job! That was a powerful chapter. I hope those poor kids will be okay.