My Soul to Keep

Disclaimer- I don't own Zoids or the characters

Author's Note:  This is Harry/Leena all the way so if you don't like it leave or… do what ever I guess I'll never know the difference.  *yawn… If I had energy I'd tell ya off, but I don't.

10:31 PM.  Friday.  October 18.  I am at my computer… but I don't know why…

In the Hover Cargo hanger and completely alone…  Dur hur…

Leena sat in the cockpit of her Gun Sniper.  She didn't want anyone to see her, if they did, they would remember to think about her.  She didn't want that now, she just wanted to be alone.  'Help me fade…'  She thought, 'Just help me fade away…'

Party time outside the base, courtesy of the Zoid Battle Commission

            "Has anyone seen Leena?"  Steve Torros wore the rare expression of worry as he scanned the crowd for his normally jubilant daughter.

            "She prolly went home with Harry," Brad giggled.  Yesh, he'd had one too many sips… Well glasses of the 'sparkly stuff' and was too loose with his tongue.  He did not realize this until Doc reached out and tried to strangle him.  It became most evident where Leena got her strength from as the mercenary tried unsuccessfully to remove the somewhat insane man's hands from his throat.

            "Doc!"  Jamie cried as he rushed to the aid of his teammate.  Through a little persuading and a great deal of physical effort, he managed to pry Brad out of the death grip.  Brad for his part managed to stay afoot while gulping air gratefully.

            "Lighten up Doc," Bit said swaying a little.  He was sort of dancing with one of the Tasker sisters, and had swallowed more than his share of the 'sparkly stuff' too.  "I just saw her a little while ago," he continued starting to be pulled back through the crowd. "She said she had a head ache, and was going home to get some sleep!"  This was the last his team would hear of him for most of the night.

            "Well alright then," an optimistic grin spread across the mad scientist's face as he too decided to have some fun before the night was over.  Jamie just sighed and prayed he would get them home and in their rooms before they yorked all over the place. 

            'Funny thing though,' he thought to himself, 'I don't remember seeing Leena here at all.'

At the Champ base… muahahaha…

            Benjamin and Sebastian moved as carefully as possible towards the maintenance room.  Harry had gone to bed hours ago, and there were noises coming from the main platform.  The two robots moved almost frightfully, with Benjamin wielding a baseball bat, and Sebastian a skillet.  If machines had hearts, theirs would have jumped right out of their small metal chests.  Nothing could have prepared them for what they say on the platform however.

            Harry was working on his Dark Horn…  No, scratch that, he was randomly taking apart and putting things back together.  He was still in his battle attire.  Everything was drenched in oil and grease; the absurd frills were dangling so soaked they dripped oil.

            There were two things on the robots tiny minds now.  What the hell was wrong with Harry, and how in the hell had he managed to bleed so much oil from his Zoid?

            He was muttering constantly to himself as he disconnect and reconnected the same cable five times in a row.  Benjamin waved to Sebastian to get some coffee going, and he strolled quietly closer raising the bat.  Harry would feel much better after a nice nap and a cup of coffee, he reassured himself.  Just as he was about to 'assist' Harry on his way to dream land, the words became coherent.

            "'S'not 'nough…  ehvy thin' 's'not 'nough."  He disconnected the cable again and reconnected it in less than five seconds.  It was a difficult and dangerous thing to do, considering the Zoid's core was still operational.  He could be electrocuted to death at any moment, yet he continued.

            "Everything…  Everything I have."  Benjamin watched entranced as Harry stopped working on the Zoid and sat down.  He ran his fingers through his hair; a nervous habit.  As he felt the oily traces leave black streaks through his russet, brown hair he smiled.  It wasn't a good smile; it was a demented, and twisted smile that reflected anger and other dark things.

            "He lifted the tool box which was full of heavy and expensive equipment…  He lifted it as though it weighed maybe a feather.  "Money isn't enough…"  He still failed to notice Sebastian who watched completely stricken.  "But money…"

            "GOD DAMMIT LEENA!!!"  He screamed at the emptiness of the room.  "WHAT ELSE IS THERE?  WHAT ELSE DO… YOU… WANT??"  It was simple.  She wanted love.  He tried to give love, but he didn't have it.  To his parents who had built the Champ Corporation from nothing, there was no greater gift than money.  To Harry, who had lived all his life with possessions instead of attention, there was nothing else.  His parents had showed they loved him in a way their parents would never have been able to show them.  Yet, his parents had missed the most important part of that love.  It was unconditional…  With money there were always conditions.  It was hard to earn and easy to lose, and it didn't give a damn because it was just money.

            "There is nothing else Harry…"  The electronic voice of his robot made him jump so high he was afraid he'd fall to his death from the platform.  That would be a way to go…

            Harry turned his grief stricken, and oil stained face to his metallic companion.  Sadly, they were his only real friends.  Aren't friends supposed to know things you don't, and be able to help you in times like these?  His robots were made through money, and having not the benefit of any other experience, knew no more of love than Harry did.  Benjamin might have, he'd thought once, but that love came too easy.  Human love was ever so much harder.  There was no sure way of knowing exactly who was right, without first knowing love.

            "But there are many other things," Harry said smiling sadly.  "I just have the one."  He looked down at the toolbox in his hand, having intended to throw it down over the platform.  It seemed such a stupid idea to do it now.  He set it down carefully and sighed.  "I need some coffee," he said rubbing his temples, which were quickly staining with the black muck he'd accumulated.

            "Sebastian is on that…"  Benjamin said nervously, not sure whether to leave the young man alone. 

            "Alright then," the scuffed up and somewhat wobbly boy said as he headed in the general direction of the kitchen.  " I think I could use a cup or two."

11:40 P.M.  Friday.  October 18.  I leave my computer for sleep much needed.