Crossover fic, Heat/Pearl, "Knock Down Drag Out"
Title: Knock Down Drag Out Author: Mitsuhachi Rating: R Warnings: Blood, lightly referenced cannibalism and poly Word count: 1,516 Prompt:Crossover: Bijou/Digital Devil Saga-Heat/Pearl-unbridled passion-exactly what he needs A/N: I know that Bindu is out of order given where this scene needed to happen in the story-line. But come on-- is that not just too perfect to pass up? *grin* Also, much less pairing-y than it could have been. Sorry.
“We’ll crush the other tribes and reach Nirvana, with this new power,” Heat snarls, half annoyed and half relieved to see Serph nod slowly in response.
“It is decided then,” Gale announces, bringing up the map. “If we are to continue the battle against the other tribes, we will need information beyond our current intelligence; we cannot hope to win if we walk into our battles blind. Let us then go to Bindu. If we can defeat Garnet and take the Jewels’ strategist, we should have more than enough intelligence to plan our assault on the others.” Serph leans on the edge of the machine, stretching his long body over it to look more closely at what they know of the base’s layout. Agni roils inside Heat, pushes against his throat in a way he’s not sure he hates.
“What about Sera, then?” Heat points out, turning to gesture at her even though that’s not really any better. “I’m sure everyone’s hot on her trail by now.” Cielo shuffles his feet in the corner, and Gale is quiet so long Heat starts to think he’s not going to answer.
“…There is little we can do about that, short of defeating the other tribes. Complete your mission quickly.” Heat kicks the base of the dissemination machine hard enough that his toes hurt even through his boot; it’s not good enough, and they both know it. Serph says nothing though, just puts one gloved hand on Heat’s shoulder under the cape and leaves it there until Heat pulls away.
“Lets get out of here then,” he says, and doesn’t even have to turn to know that Serph and Argilla are pacing him, close behind, as he heads for the elevator.
* * *
They get hit with a couple of big Gyu-ki right inside the gates, when the get to the Jewel’s territory; it’d almost be funny how easily Argilla takes them down with a few well-placed tera, bruisers three times her size before the change, if he hadn’t fought with her so long. She turns her back on the corpses while he and Serph tear into them, shoulders her assault rifle and keeps watch down the hall. Heat smears blood on her face when he changes back just because it annoys him so bad that she’s still refusing to eat. She glares at him and he sneers right back at her. “You killed them! You’re gonna get weak and hold us back if you don’t get your shit together.” She wipes the blood off on her coat-shoulder and ‘accidentally’ shoves him in the stomach with the butt of her gun when she walks past him. Agni watches her, riding just beneath Heat’s skin, with a sense of wistful admiration—sure that she would be delicious. ‘Comrade,’ Heat thinks back at him, just to have something to focus on other than the half-seen figures who disappear behind corners before they can attack.
Up ahead, Serph hesitates a moment before opening the door at the end of the hall. ‘Finally,” Heat thinks, walking a little faster to catch up. He’s never able to figure out how Serph always knows where the leaders are, but he’s pretty much used to it by this point. He’s not used to the door slamming between him and his leader, refusing to open when Argilla works the lock or when he slams himself, half-transformed, against it. Serph is in there fighting alone. His claws tear deep rivets into the stone, but the door holds.
“Your leader’s going to taste really good,” a man with pale-blue hair sneers, leaning against the posts of the doorway they’d just come through. He’s got some sort of whip curled around one shoulder, in addition to the handgun he leaves arrogantly holstered. A gray-eyed man with green hair stands next to him, a little further off, covering him with a shotgun. Argilla brings up the rifle, holding them in a stand-off.
“Serph’s not gonna lose that easily,” she bites out. The blue-haired man gestures at his companion without completely turning, and he lowers the gun, though Heat notices he keeps it in hand.
“Then my leader’s going to taste good,” the man says with an elaborate affectation of unconcern. Argilla adjusts her aim to account for the gray-eyed man’s changed posture, but doesn’t relax. “Come on, we’re not going to bother fighting you now,” the whip-guy sighs.
“It would just be a waste at this point,” a tilty-eyed preta explains, from off to their left. Heat grinds his teeth, wonders how these creeps keep getting the drop on them. “Why use our bullets to kill you when we can throw you at our enemies, once Garnet kills your leader?” It’s so backwards, Heat wants to fight him just because he’s making everything so complicated, makes no sense. His leader is in there fighting alone.
“Strategist,” Argilla murmurs to him under her breath, and Heat takes a deep breath, marks his face. With features like that, golden skin and red hair so dark it could almost be black, it shouldn’t be hard to remember him later.
“It’s dangerous to assume Garnet will win,” a tall, broad-shouldered man rumbles back near the door Serph had disappeared through. Two nekomata stand curled around him on either side, bright blue hair, posture, uniforms mirroring each other in every particular save that the one’s eyes match his hair while the other’s remain a flat gray. The way they both hang on him makes Heat’s skin itch. “I want to know if our potential comrades are strong enough to be worthy.”
“I’ll show you strong,” Heat growls. One of the boys unslings his gun, looking up at the white-haired man silently while the other holds his free hand. Heat wants to look away from them, uncomfortable in some way he can’t define, until they let go and stand back. “Come on and fight me, you freak.”
The man doesn’t even bother to transform; one moment he’s crouching a little while his comrades pull back against the walls and the next he’s gotten a good uppercut against the bottom of Heat’s chin. Heat grabs the guy’s long hair, pulls him on his own momentum into Heat’s elbow, but has to duck back before it can hit to avoid the foot the man sweeps out to trip him.
“You have the black-haired girl, don’t you?” the man whispers, and Heat can’t breathe, punches him hard enough in the face that he can see four little red circles bloom on the guy’s cheek after. Agni was raging inside his chest, and his atma burns. ‘I’ll kill you,’ Heat thinks, feeling his hands calcify into armor and claws without making himself stop driving them into the man’s chest. His world narrows to the crunch of bone beneath his fingers and the bright spark of pain where the guy gets a bayonette through his shoulder; it’s honest, simple. The man leans back, tries a high kick with a blade that would have taken out his eyes, but Heat had trained with Gale, knew to step just far enough back and bear down hard on the man’s kneecap. He goes down with a gurgle but not a scream, and when Heat kneels to press his knee into the guy’s sternum to keep him down, his eyes are a clear opalescent white, like Serph’s.
Just that fast, though, there’s a rustle of armor around the room, and the press of cold metal to the back of Heat’s head. Two pairs of blazing blue eyes meet his when he looks up, the muzzles of two guns are trained on him without hesitation as the Nekomata corner him. Behind them, the others have Argilla surrounded, though they’re still not attacking.
Heat eases up, even though Agni screams inside him. He forces his atma back into the mark, resents losing the focus of hunting, feeding. “I know of a place you can hide her for as long as it takes,” the white-haired man whispers under him. “If you kill Garnet, the three of us will follow you.” The Nekomata whose eyes just changed presses the muzzle of his gun harder against Heat’s skull, and Heat growls under his breath as he slowly stands. Argilla flicks her rifle over to semi-auto, loud in the sudden silence of the room, and for a long minute they all just stand there.
“I’m not following losers like you either way,” whip-guy says casually, re-holstering his weapon. “I’ll take Garnet’s place.” The Preta makes a disgusted noise in his direction.
“If the leader is defeated, the tribe must follow the victor; that is the law,” the Preta recites, watching intently as the others drop their weapons. The Nekomata are helping the white-haired man up, one of them transforming long enough for the pale wash of a Dia to flicker over him. They look less natural like that, the three of them, and Heat relaxes a little in spite of himself.
He relaxes more when, a minute later, the stone door swings open and Serph steps out, bloody and exhausted-looking, but alive.
/Edit: Tweak says, as I post this, "Give me the Karma, mama." A+