trans_9 | Closed to Animorphs and Guards.

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Closed to Animorphs and Guards.

His hands itched. So did the backs of his ankles. And his head hurt.

It was rather annoying to not be able to scratch the itch. The headache was more troubling. It was going to get worse, but for the moment it was just an ache behind his eyes, aggravating more for the reminder than the actual physical pain.

He was helpless.

He let his head lull forward, resting his chin on his chest and testing the bindings on his hands. They were solid, and it didn't give in the least. They didn't even have the decency to scratch the damned itch.

He was hungry, and that would get worse as well. He had a feeling the current small portions of food would continue until he starved. He would get the added pleasure of his host's hunger making his own worse.

< They're going to kill you. > Tom's voice was soft, invasive, and annoying.

< That should make you happy. You're getting everything you wanted, aren't you Tommy-boy? >

The host was silent, considering.

Iniss kept his head down, soon, perhaps, one of his jailers would decide to lecture him, and who knew what might happen then?

If he pretended to be asleep, maybe they would just leave him alone.

((Occ: Give me what day you're on when you tag in, and we'll just do it sorta day by day? I guess? Maybe? Suggestions?)

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It was stupid trying to gauge the Yeerk's sincerity by looking into Tom's eyes, Jake knew that. But even so, he found himself staring, as though trying to drill a hole to the truth with his gaze alone. He didn't want to believe what the Yeerk was saying, didn't want to turn his eyes from the goal now that it was coming up so close, but something made him offer, casually, "You still have that option, you know. And it's still your most reasonable."

A part of Jake rebelled even as he said it, not wanting to give the Yeerk that option, wanting to just fast-forward to the end when it was a withered lump and he had family again. But he controlled his voice admirably, he thought, as he continued, "If you crawl out of my brother right now, we can... we can negotiate. And if you're telling the truth about those artificial bodies, then we'll stick you in one as soon as they're ready. But not if you starve to death first in there."

"Marco, he--" got involved the same way I did. The answer sprung easily to mind, but instead of giving it, he stood up suddenly, tired of alien Q&A, tired of playing brother's keeper. Restless, he began to pace across the cell, back and forth, though there wasn't much room to go. Even if the Yeerk cooperated, they didn't owe it anything better than a painless death. Wasn't that right? Wouldn't Tom want to see it dead for certain, rather than out there somewhere, free as he hadn't been? But all the same, killing out of combat was... Well, it didn't exactly make them seem like the good guys, did it?

It didn't matter, Jake told himself. The Yeerk wasn't going to surrender, and either way, Jake was happy to stray from the good, happy to commit one evil act, if he could just save his brother.

"So, little Jake, if I were to crawl out of your brother's ear, you'd be able to resist the temptation to squish me like a worm on the sidewalk after it rains?" He watched Jake, slow smile creeping over his lips. "Do I look like a moron to you?"

He watched Jake start to pace, settling back with a somewhat smug expression. They might be killing him, but he'd just gotten under Jake's skin. "Marco, he?"

< No, Jake. Stop. You're showing him he's bothering you. Stop. Ok. Just sit down and stay calm, I know you can. You're doing great. >

< He can't hear you, he's losing it. >

< Shut up. He's a kid and he's doing great. >

Though Jake looked over sharply, the answer didn't come as quickly as he liked. He had to stop to consider the mental imagery; not just sight but sensation as well: the soft yield under his shoe, or better yet, helping Tom to stand on shaky legs, and letting him have the honors. Only once he'd imagined how satisfying it would be, could he weigh that satisfaction against other concerns: that pesky thing called morality, and perhaps more immediately pressing, the prospect of freeing Tom a day sooner.

"You expect me to believe you want out of my brother, but you won't believe that I want the same thing?" Jake shook his head impatiently and, almost as though he'd heard Tom, plopped himself back into his seat.

"Marco's story isn't mine to tell, and I don't want to lie to you, not now. But I will tell you this: ask Tom. Ask my brother if he would be okay slapping you into some other host, even an artificial one, or if he'd rather see you dead. Because if you crawled out of there right now... I would let him decide."

"I think that is safe to assume you want me out of your brother, little Jake. But I also think it's just as safe to assume that you and your murderous friends have no intentions of allowing me to leave this room alive. I think no matter what I do, you and your friends are going to kill me. Better to hold on, and hope that the ship notices and protects me, than to place myself so passively in your hands."

< Good. Just stay calm, it's going to be ok. You can do this. >

< He can't hear you. >

< He knows I'm here. >

"Hmm, then how about telling me how you found out about yeerks. You said you met an Andalite, and you met a yeerk. How, exactly did you get involved? Knowing doesn't mean you have to save everyone."

Jake felt like he was on the brink of something, like if he just said the right words here, he could convince the Yeerk to do what he wanted. Whatever that was. Maybe he could convince the Yeerk that he was sincere, that if it let Tom go willingly, they wouldn't murder it in cold blood. But he wasn't about to go through that much trouble just to eliminate his best excuse to see his brother's tormentor dead, to say, 'Sure, they were working on artificial host bodies, but the Yeerk chose to starve.' And maybe that was no better than murder, but Jake didn't look too closely at his actions as he muttered a simple, "Fine. Then we'll wait."

And suddenly Jake was taken with something like - pity. The Yeerk must know that its chances at survival were slim, and here it was, trying so desperately to find some weapon, some leverage, while all it had to go on was this system, this game, of question for question, answer for answer. He met the Yeerk's gaze, shook his head sadly. "It was never about saving everyone. Once I found out what the Sharing was, what Tom must have been, my goal was always - this." He motioned vaguely to the room, to Tom, then let his hand fall. "I don't have any more questions for you."

"I supose we will." He scowled faintly, bowing his head briefly.

Information, understanding. They had always been what he valued. Trying to understand these humans, trying to understand what made them work the way they did...it had always been so confusing.

"That doesn't answer how you got involved. Just that you are selfishly motivated. So if you could have saved Tom, you would have what? Retired to the country side?" His lips pressed into a thin line, scowling. He needed to know.

They were going to kill him anyway, why not just TELL him?

"Why are you so hung up about this?" Jake demanded, trying to read answers from the way Tom's face darkened. It was hard in spite of everything to remember he wasn't talking to his brother, hard not to read condemnation on his brother's face for his actions, his choices, all the delay.

"I-- yeah, at first, if I could, I would've freed Tom right there and just, I don't know, run away. But there was never the time to be selfish, you know? There were always other things to deal with, the bigger picture, and people got hurt. Tom, I--"

Jake broke off, frowned. "I guess you realize that no one will be safe, not until this war is over."

"Because *I* protected you. And I wonder how useless that was." And he had, when others had carefully infested entire families just to cement their cover, he hadn't gotten Jake and his host's parents infested.

"How very grown up, Jake. I'm almost proud." The words were harsh, but the kid was going to kill him.

< There's always a bigger picture, Jake, you did the right thing. It's ok, I understand. If you'd gone after me, it just would have blown the whole thing wide open and mom and dad would have gotten involved. You did the right thing. >

"You protected me?" said Jake skeptically. "Don't you mean you left us free so you could use us to threaten Tom with? It's true, isn't it?" And as Jake spoke the words, he became certain. "Even in my brother's head, even controlling his every movement, you couldn't control him, could you? That's why you needed us free."

Jake remembered the books of poetry, and wished he'd thought to bring one with him. "You don't have to worry about that anymore, Tom," he said firmly. "It's never going to get me."

He snorted. "No, Jake. I protected you. Tom and I have a deal. If he didn't cause trouble, then I would do my best to keep you, your parents, and your little dog out of the invasion unless my life or safety were compromised. I felt no need to shred your brother into tiny pieces of a person. Excuse me for not being the cackling evil you assumed."

He watched Jake, eyebrow arching thoughtfully.

< I know I don't, Jake. And I'm glad. I'm so glad. >

It was the second time Jake had been taken aback, and the second time he had to stop and wonder if Iniss was telling the truth. It was obvious why he'd lie, less obvious why he'd keep a promise like that - but something stopped Jake from disregarding the idea as impossible. He almost found himself about to thank the Yeerk, before he caught himself and shook his head. No. Either way, the deal only benefited the Yeerk. Getting Tom to quiet down, stop fighting, was nothing but good for him.

Still, Jake remembered his own experience, knew for fact that Temrash would have beaten his host down rather than negotiated. Jake gave a small shrug, not a commitment, but also not a denial. "Just the body-snatching evil that you are, then, even right now."

Iniss had discovered an odd trait about humanity. Often times, when you presented them with the truth, it confused them more than the most elaborate lie.

"Well I can't argue with that, Jake. Though your impression and my understanding are two completely different things, after all. I'm just surviving the best way I know how, kid. You opinion is entirely subjective based only on your personal understanding."

< Does it make you feel better about your self to use four dollar words against a kid? Or is that just for your own personal enjoyment? >

< Hush, this is fun. He still thinks I'm lying to him, which means he can't read me. This is fantastic. >

< Quit. >

Jake took a moment to let the syllables slide into place. "Based on my own--? Well, yeah, not like I've got anything else to base on. Isn't it the same for you? All these years, and have you ever felt..."

But no, that was a stupid thing to ask. Like all this could be made right with guilt, or an apology. Besides, today was the Yeerk's last full day on Earth. Or. On Stacy, actually. It was different in the heat of battle, different to sit in the same room and wonder about the creature that was dying in front of him.

"Hey," he said, after some silence. "Do you... do Yeerks ever... do anything? Like, you go through all this trouble to enslave us, and then what? Just fly off to the next planet and start some more wars? Don't you have any - I don't know - Yeerk hobbies, or anything? Yeerk sports? Yeerk books? Do Yeerks ever tell jokes, or does fighting with your hosts all day not leave time for a sense of humor?"

He tipped his head, staring at Jake. "Have I ever felt?"

He paused for a moment, processing the question. "I've been told that attempts our attempts at humor are terrible. We don't have what you humans consider novelists, though we do have research specialists." He leaned his head back, resting against the wall behind him, sighing faintly. "I enjoy reading your human books, especially your history, we have nothing that can compare. I enjoy your brother's sense of humor, but I think his taste in reading material is utterly terrible. Poetry very rarely approaches sense. I've learned a lot about your species in my time on earth. I find them interesting. Odd, isn't it? You little murderours humans are going to kill me. But I still find you fascinating. Knowledge has always been my drug."

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Closed to Animorphs and Guards.

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