Disclaimer: Hello, don’t sue me. I don’t own Digimon or anything remotely related to the topic except a few original characters and a certain plot idea to be implemented into this fic. As always, review or else I’ll torture you to death with really lame jokes about plastic army men.

DigitalWar:

Campaign II

This was getting monotonous. “Have you finished yet?” Isaac looked down at me with an annoyed expression on his face.

“Nope.” He went back to work, folding up cloths and picking through his personal possessions.

“When you do, let me know.” I plopped my head down, resting it on my front paws. “Just keep it down.” I closed my eyes.

“Oh yes, Great Sahib!” Isaac said with a fake middle-eastern accent. “Whatever you say!”

“For a god-man, you’re really sarcastic,” I told him flatly, keeping my eyes shut. “You just like ruffling people’s feathers, don’t you?”

He grunted in a laughing fashion. Somehow, I could see him just looking at me with his condescending eyes and perfect smile. Stupid prep.

“Ya know,” he said at last. “Not even God is above sarcasm.”

“So he made me a freak out of spite?”

“Oh you poor, naïve little fool.”

Cotramon jumped in, getting us to quiet before someone blew up. (It would’ve literally been him, by the way). “You two are both getting on my nerves,” he chided. “If I hadn’t pledged myself to you, I would throw you out the window and throw a couch on you.”

“Wow. Really creative,” Isaac said. “If I had half a mind, I’d join a club and beat you with it.”

Ok, so he knew how to shoot someone down. Maybe I judged too quickly? I opened my eyes to see Isaac throw a bible into his case. “Packing for a lifetime or a week?”

“Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth,” he said, holding up his book. “Clever, eh?” Cotramon smiled, nodding his approval.

Nope, judged him perfectly. “Yeah, clever.”Stupid zealots. “Just don’t start preaching, Ok?” He nodded before continuing packing. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Great Sahib.”

“Eh heh. Whatever.” Stupid human. What! What am I saying? Damned foul worded prick! What’s he got me doing now?

Cotramon spoke to Isaac. “He’s right actually. You don’t need that much.” He rifled through Isaac’s stuff, picking and choosing things to throw out. “I suggest your Bible, a week of cloths, human stuff (you’re on your own there), no electronics.” He threw out a CD player just as he said that.

“Why no electronics,” I asked, rather annoyed at the fact that I had to leave my escape from reality.

“It’ll short circuit. Digital World, extremely large and powerful electrical fields that’ll zap anything with a computer chip that isn’t native to my world.”

Foul words! Foul words! Foul words! Foul words! “You’ve got to be kidding? No electronics what so ever?” Foul words!

The Digimon shrugged. “Nothing but our stuff and Pics,” he said lightly. “Pics are personal computers like your palm pilots that we use to buy, sell, analyze other Digimon, and generally keep track of people.”

“Sounds interesting,” Isaac grinned. “Computers are kind of a hobby of mine.” He pointed to a corner of his room that struck me as similar to Dr. Frankenstein’s Lab. “Kinda obvious, isn’t it?”

“Yep.”Weird guy. Huh, look at yourself. And he’s weird? Yeah, sure. “Ok, maybe you can help me with mine. The icons look funny.”

“No,” Cotramon said, smiling at me for some reason. “That’s just because you’ve been in the process of digivolving for a few days.”

“How long did you watch me!”

“Yesterday and today.”

Then how would he know? “I can’t be that interesting.” Cotramon agreed. “Thanks.” Something was pricking my chest so I rolled over. The tingling didn’t lessen on my back. I shifted again, this time to a sitting position. Still nothing. I started pacing around in the available space.

“Something wrong,” Isaac asked, sounding concerned. I denied it, but he didn’t believe me. “Are you sure? You look like you got an itch you can’t scratch.”

Cotramon snickered at me. “I know what’s wrong with him,” he said, making me a tad bit angry. “Every beast-type, especially quadrupeds, go through this every now and again. Lay down on your back,” he commanded.

I did, just wanting relief. He came up to me, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Now,” he said, “this won’t hurt a bit. In fact, you should rather like it.” I closed my eyes, wishing for some remedy to the itching that plagued my body, though that glint did have me worried.

I didn’t know what the green one was going to do until he actually did it. Isaac burst out laughing, most likely doubling over (and judging by the thump, falling to the floor in the process).

“Ooooohhhhhh, sweet relief! Woooooooh…” His hands raced across my chest, scratching and assuaging the feeling. “Ahhhh… grrrrrrrrrrr…” I disintegrated into a bubbling puddle of non-coherent speech and growls. Finally, he stopped, ending my revelry and leaving me wishing I could get more.

I opened my eyes, seeing Isaac laughing so hard a small puddle of tears was forming beneath him. “No more,” I asked genuinely. I wanted more. “Every beast-type,” I asked.

“Even me. Several times.” He glared at Isaac, instantly ending his mirth. “And if he is the Chosen and you are his human, you’ll go through it with him the next time it happens.” Isaac went back to his task without a word.

“I’m done,” he said a half-hour later. I had dozed after my belly rub. His voice woke me, and I was up and ready within seconds. I smiled to myself when I saw his bag. A smallish orange suitcase sat on the floor in front of his bed.

“It took you an hour to pack that?”

“Cotramon told me to pack something nice.”

“Nice?” My green counterpart nodded. I had long since decided that he wasn’t all bad if he’s willing to embarrass himself just to help someone. “Why nice? We aren’t going anywhere but to take a test.”

“The Sovereigns are the ones administering the test. They’re the four rulers of the Digital World.” That explains the nice. “For all they know, you’re the enemy. So behave yourself.”

“So we’re off to my place then? I could use a break from my parents anyway.” The others sighed, not knowing what else to do. “I probably won’t need anything, will I?” Cotramon confirmed. “Good, so all I need to do is tell my parents that I’ll be gone for a month.”

“Actually,” Cotramon corrected, “it’ll only be a week here. Time warp difference.”

Right out of Star Trek, I thought. I had another thought. “Isaac, do me a favor,” I said, trying not to call him something offensive.

“Alright.” He made a show of it, throwing his hands in the air and sighing loudly. “What is it?”

“Seeing as how your mom fainted when she saw me, you’re going to go in first and explain it to my parents.”

“Nope.”

“What! Why not?”

“You didn’t say ‘please.’”

He was milking this. I was impressed. Albeit I was annoyed as hell, but impressed with his ability to irk me so much. “Please?” I conceded. “Much as I hate to admit it, you milk things well when you want to.”

He smirked at me. “I know. You aren’t the only one to peeve a few people.”

“Eh heh.”

Forty-five minutes later, I was walking up the front steps to my door. I noticed my father’s truck was parked in the carport. “He’s home early,” I said. “That means we don’t have to explain this twice.”

The others agreed that this was a good thing, since it took so long with Isaac’s mother. Isaac opened the door, stepping inside our trailer. I heard my father stand and ask who he was.

“I’m a friend of Eli’s,” he said, making me grimace. “He’s here with me, but he has a sort of problem.”

My mother sounded worried. “Is he alright? I heard on the radio that there was some kind of attack on the school…” She trailed off as I entered the room.

“Hi, mom,” I called. She, like Isaac’s mom, fainted upon my entrance.

“Out,” my father said sternly. “Get out before I call my associates to escort you out.”

“What associates?” Isaac asked, totally oblivious to the gun rack behind him.

“Mr. Smith and Mr. Wesson.” He pulled a rifle from the gun rack and took aim. At me…

“Dad!” He loaded the weapon. “Dad, it’s me! Elijah! What’re you doing?” He pulled the firing pin back.

“Mr. Matthews,” Isaac tried to intervene. “This is your son. I saw him change with my own eyes! Just put the gun down and listen…”

BANG! I ducked; letting the bullet hit the floor. I looked back at the two-inch hole in the linoleum. “Dad!” I watched, horrified as he reloaded and took aim again, this time at Isaac. “Mom!” She didn’t stir.

“Get out!” What was wrong with him! He pulled the trigger. BANG!

Time seemed to stop as the bullet careened toward the human. I could see it moving, slowed down to only a few feet per second. The target: Isaac Marx. I jumped, pushing him out of the bullet’s path, the bullet hitting my shoulder at the same time.

Something clicked. “DYNAMITE RUSH!” The wall behind my dad shattered in a mess of wood splinters. I watched him struggle to his feet, heaving and gasping for breath. “What are you doing! I’m your son!”

I recoiled as the butt of the rifle collided with my muzzle. I spit out a blood-soaked tooth. Isaac had crawled out the door, out of the line of fire. “DAD!” He only got angrier every time I called him that. My father swung the rifle again, missing me by mere centimeters. In a second, the gun was loaded and cocked.

He fired again, hitting the doorframe when I rolled out the door. “RUN, Isaac! Grab the short one and go!”

Cotramon jumped on my back, much to my surprise, and Isaac followed suit. I ran, jumping the fence and hoping I would clear it. I did, with inches to spare. Another shot rang out behind us, eliciting a shout from Isaac to run faster.

“I’m running as fast as I can!” I shouted back. “Maybe get off and run by yourself!” I kept running, turning the corner and diving into a grove of bushes.

“What happened in there,” Cotramon asked, climbing off my back.

“I think his job finally got to ‘em,” I answered, entirely serious. “He tried to kill us… Me—his own son…”

I sat, letting Isaac slide off my back and fall to the ground. He put a hand on my injured shoulder. “We need to get you to a doctor,” he said. It was bleeding heavily, a deep reddish, almost black, fluid.

“I didn’t notice,” I said softly. I couldn’t get the image of the rifle pointing at me out of my head. Then at Isaac, then at me again. “He tried to kill me.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cotramon flip open his communicator again. He spoke quickly. “Azulongmon, have an Imperialdramon waiting for us and some medical supplies.”

Azulongmon’s voice came over loud and clear. “Why? Are you all right? Did he attack you?”

“No!” Cotramon shouted into the receiver. “Quit jumping to conclusions! The boy’s human father attacked him… I’m well aware of the fact that he’s the Enemy’s son! But he didn’t provoke anyone!”

“Then what happened?”

“Ask ‘em yourself!” Cotramon put the phone to my mouth. “Tell Azulongmon what happened, Eli.” I didn’t speak. My mind kept replaying the event.

“Well,” Azulongmon growled. “What happened? What did you do?” I didn’t do a thing. I wanted to tell him, but I couldn’t speak. “Well?” he said again.

Isaac took the phone and spoke. “He—can’t—really talk right now,” he said. “I’m his—uh—human, Isaac.”

“Then speak,” Azulongmon told him. “What did the demon do to provoke an attack?”

“He didn’t do anything. He was just going to tell his parents that he was going to be gone for a while and his dad opened fire with a .45 caliber! The guy took a shot at me too.”

“The man just attacked without reason?” The Sovereign didn’t sound convinced. I wasn’t entirely convinced either.

“Yeah. He pulled a gun of the rack and shot him.”

“Let me speak to Cotramon.” Isaac handed back the communicator, throwing an insult over the com as he did. “Cotramon, you’ll be met one mile from where the fog ends. Use the first aid kit you were given until then.”

“But there’s a bullet in his arm! He needs a hospital sir! I’m almost sure it some sort of artery!”

He sighed, finally giving in to Cotramon’s request. “Fine then. That bond of yours is starting to affect your judgment, Cotramon. I told you not to pledge yourself as his partner.”

“He’s not too bad once you figure out his weakness,” Cotramon said, glancing at me. Azulongmon asked what my weakness was. Despite the shoulder wound, I knew what Cotramon was about to say. “A good belly rub is all it takes.”

“Oh dear Lord.”

The com-link abruptly shut off and the green one shut the lid. “I’m glad I still have your cloths,” he said, taking a piece from my former shirt. He rapped it around my shoulder and put my front right leg into the sling. “You’ll have to limp along since we can’t carry you.”

I moved about on my three good legs, testing the weight. It was awkward at first, but I quickly got the hang of it. But my mind kept going back to the event that had caused the wound. I shook it from my mind as best I could. “We’d better be going then,” I said at last. “You said the Viaduct?”

“Yeah, the very top.”

“You mean on the fence?” Cotramon smiled. “Why?”

“You’ll see.”

Ten minutes later we were hiking up the thirty-foot incline. I say “hiked” because my limp slowed us down to a crawl. The others were good about it though, taking their time to help me when I needed it. Soon, we were there, staring down into a massive green vortex.

“I don’t see anything,” Isaac said.

Cotramon and me stared down into a massive green vortex.

“Oh.” Cotramon helped Isaac to the top of the fence. “Isaac, you go first.”

“Go?”

“Jump,” he stated simply. “All you have to do is jump. You’ll land on solid ground about three feet below that.”

“You’ve got to be joking. I’ll break my legs.” I rammed the fence with my good shoulder, not wanting to waste time. Isaac lost his balance within seconds and fell face first into the vortex and disappeared.

“I’ll go next,” Cotramon said, climbing to the top of the overhanging fence. “Then you can go and we’ll try to catch you so you don’t hurt your shoulder worse.” He jumped without hesitation, disappearing in the same manor that Isaac had.

I unsheathed the claws on my right paw. The inch-and-a-half blades popped out unceremoniously and cut a hole in the fence. The cut away portion dropped into the gate and vanished. I stole one last glance back toward what was my home, wondering if I would go back, and then I jumped.