Author's Note: Me no own IZ. Jhonen and his winged monkeys do! But Neese and the Wevers are mine! Mwah! And I really have no clue how to end this sucker!

Chapter 3

Neese shifted among his bed of cushions, unable to sleep. Though the room was dark, his gaze never left the slumbering form of Tallest Purple. Sitting up, Neese tugged on the chain, a futile gesture as he still remained prisoner. Neese scowled in the dark, conjuring up plans only to discard them. Escape was out of the question. But maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't have to escape...

Rising, Neese grabbed a cushion and made his way to Purple, the chain slithering along the floor behind him. Neese straddled the Tallest easily, placing a foot on each side of the thin waist. Even in sleep, Purple looked serious, his brow knotted up with worry. Easing down to his knees, Neese reached out to push Purple's mouth closed, only to grin as it fell open again. Neese clutched his cushion to his stomach. He'd never done anything like this before, but he wasn't about to spend the rest of his life as someone's property. 'Now or never,' he told himself silently as he knelt close to press the cushion against Purple's face.

Suddenly a double-fingered hand shot up, grabbing Neese by the nape of the neck and hurling him away. Neese's bare chest scraped against the carpet, and he rolled to his feet in time to see the Tall One crouching too near for comfort. A low hiss slid out from between Purple's teeth as he glared at the Wever. With a frightened squeak, Neese dove for his pile of cushions, that being the closest bit of cover he could reach.

All civility seemed to have vanished as Purple pursued. He leapt onto Neese as the young Wever tried to scurry away, and wrestled him to the floor. The Irken's talons dug into the fresh brand, causing Neese to scream into the carpet. "Not all that different, are we, Wever?" Purple's murmured into Neese's ear. "Both our kinds play at being civilized, cultured, respectable - but beneath that thin veneer, we are both quite savage."

Neese swallowed hard, pulse pounding in his throat. He whimpered softly as Purple's claws circled the area around the brand, sending tiny slivers of pain through his back. Purple's breath was hot on the back of Neese's neck - short panting breaths that made the Wever tremble more than the pain. "Don't! Please please don't!" Neese pleaded, choking on a sob.

For all of his attempts at bravado, Neese was still quite young, barely old enough to be considered an adult by the standards of his culture. His soft crying forced that realization on Purple, as well as the knowledge that all he was doing was scaring the boy. "Oh knock it off!" Purple snapped as he rolled off of Neese. "I'm not going to hurt you. This time." Purple couldn't help being a bit short-tempered with the boy. He was tired, cranky, separated from Red, and the kid had just tried to kill him. Under the circumstances, Purple was quite proud of the fact that he didn't kill Neese.

Swallowing hard, Neese scurried as far from Purple as his chain would allow. He looked as though he'd go further if he could. Purple crouched down beside the wall bracket that held the chain in place. He'd tried in the past to convince Red that showing mercy on one's enemies could be a good thing. Now to test the theory. A single metallic leg eased out of Purple's backpod, a spark sizzling at the tip. The laser cut through the chain in seconds. Yawning, Purple waved a dismissive hand at Neese. "If you can escape, then get going and let me sleep."

The chain clanked as Neese pulled it to him. "Why?" the Wever asked, his eye ridges knitting together in confusion, but Purple paid the question no attention. Instead, the tall Irken settled back down amongst the cushions and shut his eyes. Satisfied that Purple wasn't going to attack again, Neese scurried to the window. But one glance showed Neese that the window was no escape route, being far too high. Despite being unfettered, the Wever was still a prisoner.

As Neese slumped down by the window, staring out at the freedom that was just beyond his reach, bells began to sound throughout the city. Bells... Bells, everywhere, ringing, clanging. Neese's ears drooped low. So many bells... And they could only mean one thing. "Father," Neese murmurred softly at first, and then, "Father! Father!" But Tilith Va-Surese would never again be able to answer his son's cries, for the bells heralded that the leader of the Wever's had taken his last breath.

~*~*~*~*~

Red paced the length of his room - back and forth, back and forth. He'd travelled the trail more times than he could count in the short time he'd been awake. How dare the Wevers lock him up like this! When he got out, heads would roll and blood would flow! Sure, the room was as oppulent as his own quarters on the Massive, but a prison by any other name was still a prison. And Tallest Red was undoubtedly trapped.

With a ferocious growl, Red ceased his pacing long enough to grab a fragile-looking vase with an even more delicate tapered neck, and he hurled it at the door. There was something satisfying in such a tiny act of resistance, even if the crash caused the headache he'd had since he'd awakened to pound momentarily. A small smirk crossed his lips as he heard nervous shuffling on the other side of the door. 'Good,' Red thought. 'Those conniving blue monsters should be afraid of me! When I get my hands on Tilith and his misbegotten shrimp of a son...'

Oh such vengeance Red would have! The Wevers who survived would tremble at the mere mention of Red's name for generations to come! Red would see to that! How dare Tilith trick Purple into marriage! Red whirled and slammed a fist into the wall. If he had his way, he would annihilate every Wever in the universe! Purple was his, and no one was going to take him from Red!

As Red continued to seethe, bells blossomed into their clanging songs outside the palace. With a groan, Red buried his face in his hands, for his head throbbed with every ring. Were the Wevers trying to kill him with noise? It certainly felt like his head was fixing to explode. "Stupid sleep drug and its stupid hangover," Red hissed. Louder, he shouted, "Shut the hell up or I'll rip down that door and shut you up!" Oh, the Wevers would pay dearly...