Part 5

[nekonexus.livejournal.com]

Time for the kid to get a name, an explanation to be offered about the Wyvern, and one more chara to be introduced.

~*~*~

It's a quiet ride in the police officer's car. The car is a dull blue on the outside, plain and unremarkable. The dash inside is covered with all kinds of gadgets that he just knows he's not allowed to touch. Not even the radio. Officer Garrett seems like the kind of guy who enjoys his silence and wouldn't appreciate someone surfing satellite radio stations.

"Valin," Officer Garrett says, unexpectedly.

"What?" He turns from staring out the window to gaze curiously at the cop. "Uh, sorry?"

Garrett scowls -- or maybe smirks, it's kinda hard to tell -- around his cigarrette. "Knew an Indian guy in the force, years ago. S'name was Valin. Said it meant 'monkey king' or something like that."

"Oh." It's as good a name as any, he supposes, but he doesn't feel like a Valin. "You think it's my name?"

Garrett downshifts and cuts a corner a little too fast. "No. But it's what I'm gonna call you. Problem?"

He thinks about this for a moment, wriggling his toes against the grit on the floormat. "No," he says. "Guess not. Val?"

The cop glances over and, for just a moment, Val thinks he's actually going to smile. But he glances away again, curses the traffic as he negotiates another turn, and finally just mutters, "Fine."

Val smiles and leans back in his chair. A moment later, Garrett is swearing at him to get his feet off the dash.

Life, he thinks, suddenly seems so normal it's scary. The black hole that's swallowed his memories doesn't matter so much. He yawns, stretches, and reaches up to rub at the back of his head. That's the only part of him that still hurts. Well, that and the funny mark on the inside of his elbow, but he didn't tell the doctor about that. His stomach grumbles.

"I'm hungry," he mutters, not because he expects Garrett to do anything about it, but just because he needs to say it.

Without a word, Garrett turns abruptly into the driveway of a late-night fastfood restaurant.

~*~*~

"Oh dear. Now what has he done to you?" Keiran murmured, crouching before the Wyvern. A faint sound like a whimpering sigh hissed from the car.

The hood was propped up, and the front grill and radiator were missing. He could see all the way into the engine well, where the engine block should have been. Resting his forehead against the bumper -- the warped and dented bumper -- he sighed. The Wyvern cooed.

"Oh, hey," someone said. "Parts aren't in yet. You weren't kidding about it being an import, eh?"

Keiran raised his head quickly, blinking in mild surprise at the mechanic who stood beside the car, drying his hands on a rag. "Parts?" he echoed, frowning. "Surely that was unnecessary."

The mechanic -- the name "Jake" was stitched on his shirt -- frowned back at him. "You're the one who --" He stopped short as Keiran rose to his feet, dusting off the knees of his jeans. "Or not..."

Keiran sighed. "Tamsin?"

Grey-blue eyes blinked slowly. "Yeah, that's what he said his name was. You...?"

"Twins, yes," Keiran replied, folding his arms across his chest.

"Hunh." He accepted that with an affable shrug and a smile that probably made girls' knees go weak.

Keiran smiled tightly. "Such... mundane repairs are unnecessary. Or would have been, had you not begun... gutting my friend, here."

The mechanic's eyebrows jumped and he patted the Wyvern's fender absently. "Don't quite follow your logic there, mister. Just doin' what I was asked to. It is how some folks make a living."

"Jake, is it?" Keiran asked. The mechanic nodded. "This car is a bio-engineered hybrid. If you had left him intact, he would have been able to heal himself."

Such was the theory, anyway. He had never had reason to test it on such obviously severe damage before. Not with this generation. It implied that his brother was in a hurry for repairs. Not wanting him to know about the accident? A difficult deception to perpetuate, all things considered.

"With all due respect, mister..."

The hesitation was intentional, leading. "Keiran," he supplied.

"Well, Mr. Keiran, Mr. Tamsin asked me to get the parts to fix his car, and I aim to do just that."

Stubborn, of course. Tamsin would find the most stubborn mechanic on the planet to ensure his plan wouldn't be thwarted. His logic, or lack thereof, baffled Keiran at the moment.

Smiling thinly, he adjusted his sunglasses. "I don't intend to stop you, although I would recommend restoring the engine block at least. And do try to treat him with more respect than your average vehicle."

Jake glanced down at the car before turning a strangely hesitant, yet curious, glance to Keiran. "Is it... he... sentient?"

Keiran's smile turned brittle. "In a sense."

~*~*~

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