A/N: Here's the next one~ Was going to have Izaya in it, but he'll be in the next chapter... I promise! Really! Just letting you guys now, I fail at action scenes, so don't expect too much from me. D:
I hope this isn't too vague for people who haven't seen the movie, so here goes...
I don't own Durarara or Repo Men.
"Shizuo?" Tom asks, blinking, when he sees his blond partner waiting outside of his door. He's got a small suitcase in tow and a cigarette in between his lips, and he simply raises a hand in greeting. "Come in."
"Need a place to stay, huh?" He asks Shizuo, returning to the table where he's started to eat dinner before his door rang. His partner takes the seat across from him, nodding as he puts out the cigarette. Five minutes later, Shizuo is still silent. "Care to tell me what's on your mind?"
It takes another minute for a reply, but it still comes. "I can't do this shit anymore." He lights up another cigarette, hand in place over his forehead. "This whole business. Going and snatching people's organs right out of them. Maybe Kasuka's right."
Kasuka's the whole reason why he's here right now; he knows that he should just stay out of his way until he can come back with good news.
Tom sets down his glass, and he gives Shizuo a serious look. "But Shizuo, we've been doing this for so long... We're the top men the Union has. You know that. Besides, it's not like we go around mercilessly killing everyone. It's just the people who don't pay."
Just the people who don't pay.
Shizuo's hand clenches into a fist. "I'm aware of that."
"And you still want to quit? You can kiss that pretty paycheck goodbye."
"I know, Tom."
Shizuo really does know. He knows he probably won't be able to find another place that will take care of him the way the Union does, but ever since earlier, he's been having his doubts. Doubts that steadily became obvious decisions he has to make. After all, if he has to make a choice between his brother and his job - the answer is already clear to Shizuo.
"I can't lose him. He's all I've got." The hand on his forehead moves to run through his hair, disheveling it even more than it usually is.
"You got me, partner." Tom tries to give Shizuo a cheery grin to lift his spirits, but it doesn't really work. He clears his throat and takes his plate to the sink. "Well... maybe you could always go into sales, or something. I'm sure if you talked to Shinra, he... wouldn't mind transferring you."
They both know that yes, Shinra would mind. He would definitely protest against having one of his best repo men transfer to sit uselessly behind a desk, selling people the fake organs that he currently reclaims. "... Maybe."
"But you know, you better make sure they give you life insurance for that. You might choke on your own vomit and die if you have to hear Shinra's 'You owe it to your family. You owe it to yourself' bullshit."
Shizuo finally lets out a chuckle, though it's mostly humorless. Tom walks back to the table where his partner is still seated and claps a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, why don't we go hunting? I know you're trying to avoid it, but... you might as well rack up some commission while you can. Might get your mind off of this whole thing, too."
"Then, tomorrow, you can talk to Shinra once we turn everything into him. How about it?"
Shizuo takes a deep drag, burning the rest of the cigarette out to the butt, looks up to his partner's reassuring face; "Yeah, why not."
As they ride around the city, Shizuo can only stare out the window, mind occupied. He already feels guilt over going out to search for past-due clients. He feels like he's betraying the one person who would never betray him. But Tom's right; once they do find some targets, it'll get his mind off of the whole damn thing. He flicks his cigarette out the window before turning his attention to the radar scanner.
"I'll talk to Shinra tomorrow." He says, voice definite. "Even if it does mean I'll have to hear him say his spiel."
"That's the spirit, Shizuo." Tom leans over to pat his friend on the shoulder, but his hand freezes in mid-air once the scanner starts beeping.
The number starts out as a red, blinking 01; and then it's a red blinking 02, 03 - they pull over on the side of the road. The numbers speed up, and then the screen reads 26. PAST DUE.
The screen flashes, then blinks rapidly, displaying the word RECLAIM. RECLAIM.
"It's a fucking nest," Tom mutters disbelievingly, looking to the old, dilapidated building they're next to. "You ready, Shizuo?"
But his partner is already stepping out of the car and heading towards the trunk for weapons, and with a smile and shake of his head, Tom gets out to follow suit.
"Ready?" Shizuo whispers to Tom, who nods and sets out, stun gun in his hand.
Shizuo totes his own stun gun, complete with wireless darts strong enough to knock a man out for ten, twenty minutes. The first three he sneaks up on are completely unaware of him, all huddling around a blazing trash can for warmth. Warmth that they'll never feel again, once Shizuo is through with them.
They're talking and whining about the incoming cold weather, whining about the damn Union and how it's their fault they're even in this position - and stealthily, hidden in the shadows, Shizuo knocks one out with the butt of his gun before lunging and elbowing the other one on the side of the head, effectively knocking him out as well.
The last one in the room only flaps his mouth like a fish before he shoots a dart into him, and he flops backward onto the worn, dirty couch that's missing cushions. He searches the rest of the floor, finding one more asleep on a pile of flattened cardboard; without blinking, he shoots a dart into him as well before heading up another flight of stairs.
Once he gets on the next floor, they're more awake, definitely more alert than their neighbors. One sees Shizuo and goes charging at him, but he just holds out a hand as the man runs into it blindly, stumbling back as Shizuo pulls him forward again and knees him right in the head. Five down on my part, he thinks. The other two both brandish pocket knives, and he raises a brow at them before shooting one down as the other charges at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Tom jogging upstairs to inspect the next floor.
He thinks this guy charging at him must be pretty stupid to give him a chance to do exactly what he did to the first one he's encountered on this floor, but as the man falls, there's another one right behind him with an arm around his throat, choking him. Cool metal is in place against his throat, and there's the slightest sting when Shizuo grabs the man's arm and hurtles him over onto his back, where he gives him a good, hard kick to the head.
"Too easy," He murmurs, fingers ghosting over the the shallow cut. Eight down; it's only been a few minutes, and he sets out to explore the rest of the floor before he decides to progress. "You alright, Tom?"
"Yep," Tom grins at him as he holds up a hand. "I got seven."
"Eight." Shizuo throws out as he strides past Tom, gun poised to strike anyone who decides they're brave enough to pop out. The floor is empty, though; at least, besides the bodies Tom's knocked out. "Eleven more. They've got to be upstairs."
They nod to each other before both creep up the stairs, and they begin the whole process over again. Shoot, kick, punch, shoot - it's repetitive, yet effective, Shizuo determines as they stare at the eight bodies sprawled out onto the floor, still twitching.
"You always manage to get more than me, somehow..." Tom frowns, then sighs. "Oh well, three more. Let's wrap this up, shall we?" They both look at the room with a closed door, both approaching it and giving it a good kick when it doesn't open.
The door slams open wide, and whatever cover the people inside are trying to keep is blown at the sound of their surprised gasps. Shizuo's boots clunk painfully loud into the silence of the empty looking room, and he spies a closet on the side. He holds a hand up to Tom, who raises an eyebrow; he tip toes to the closet door and puts an ear to the door to hear inside.
High, whispery breaths are all he hears - and as he swings open the door with his gun pointed inside, it's exactly what he was hoping he didn't see. Two women and a child are huddling inside, and he can see their faces light up in terror as his gun discharges a dart into one woman, then the other. Soon, it's just him and the child, and they're staring at each other.
His hand pauses on the trigger, and he swallows thickly as the child tries to back up against the wall; almost like he wants to become part of it. But before he can deliberate anymore of this, a dart shoots into the child, who slumps down. Shizuo glances behind him to see Tom lowering his stun gun, frown on his face.
"... You still managed to beat me."
"Twenty six!" Shinra exclaims the next day, a grin on his face as he scans the last artiforg into the system. "You know you two are probably the only ones who can manage to do that in one fell swoop, right?" Once the last one is taken care of, he straightens his white lab coat out and gestures for the two of them to follow him into his office, the next room over.
"So I've been thinking..." Shinra folds his hands together as Shizuo and Tom both take a seat, "You two are up for a promotion! Think about it! You two, kicking ass and taking names-"
Organs, Shizuo thinks. Lives. That's what we're taking, isn't it? - but he doesn't voice this as Shinra rambles on.
"-Taking down these nests! You won't even have to deal with me and the pink slips anymore, you know that?"
Shizuo shifts uncomfortably in his seat as Shinra looks at them expectantly. "Well? How about it?"
"It sounds great. Right, Shizuo?" Tom nudges his partner, who just looks up at him with a glare that says You bastard, we went over this.
"Actually, there was something I wanted to talk to you about." Shizuo redirects his gaze to the bespectacled man in front of him, who's still grinning. "I want a transfer out of repossession. Put me into sales, or something."
The grin falters. "But - Shizuo, why?" Shinra questions, leaning over his desk to peer at him curiously. "You're one of the-"
"The best, I know," the blond mutters. "I still want a transfer."
Tom is silent beside him, though he can feel his eyes on him. Shinra just pushes up his glasses and clears his throat. "A transfer, huh? ... I guess I can do that." Shizuo's heart leaps into his throat, in a good way; and then: "But how about one last hurrah before that?"
His heart plummets back down into his gut. He should've known Shinra would cling onto the last vestiges he had with the best duo he has in this damn place.
"Just one more, Shizuo," Tom nudges him again. "You can do that, right?"
"... And then I'll get a transfer, right?"
"Right!" Shinra assures him, leaning back into his chair and refolding his hands. "One more, and into sales you go! Though it beats me why you'd want to do such a thing..."
"You got this one, right?" Tom questions the blond, resting his arms on the steering wheel.
"I got it. It's just one." The last, thank God; then he can put all of this behind him. He can return to Kasuka with the promise of a job that doesn't have to do with ripping people's parts out of them and leaving them for dead.
"Alright, I'll wait out here, then." Shizuo just nods and gets out of the car, hand tightly clutching the case in his hand.
The last hurrah. Then he can wipe his hands clean of this, or at least try to. With that thought in mind, he sets upon the quaint little stone pathway that leads up to the front door. To his surprise, it's not locked. He twists the knob and steps inside; the house is completely silent, and then he hears a faint clink coming from the next room over.
He quietly shuts the door before heading into the room, hand on his holster like it usually is when he's approaching a target. But when he goes into the next room, there is only a man sitting at a long dining room table, accompanied by nothing but a near empty bottle of whiskey and a glass in his hand.
"You," The man slurs, taking in the tattoo and the case at his side, his hand on his stun gun. "I've been waiting for you." He throws back the rest of his glass without so much as a wincing expression, then pours the rest into it. "At least let me finish this?"
Shizuo's hand moves from his holster to his side. "Sure." The man seems resigned to his fate, so Shizuo sets the case on the table and begins to take out the necessary tools.
The man chugs the rest of the glass quickly before standing, swaying slightly on the spot. "Where do you want me?"
"You can lay down on the floor. Or the table, whatever." The man grunts before going over closer to Shizuo, then lifts himself up onto the table.
"You're probably wondering why I'm not putting up a fight," he says simply. Shizuo wasn't really wondering, he's too occupied with the thought of getting this done and over with and going home to Kasuka.
Either way, he decides to humor the man who will cease to live in less than ten minutes. "I was."
So the man continues, "Wife left me. Took the kids, too. Said she didn't want herself and the kids to be around when this happens. When I'm gone." He smiles bitterly, then turns his head to look at Shizuo. "Is this going to hurt?"
Shizuo stares at him for a moment. "I'm legally bound to ask you if you want an ambulance on stand-by to take you to the hospital."
"No... no, that won't be necessary." He still gazes at Shizuo, who's beginning to rub together the paddles of the portable defibrillator. "You never answered me. Is this going to hurt?"
Shizuo doesn't halt his motions, and he meets the alcohol glazed eyes of the man laying in front of him. "You won't feel a thing."
"If you say so," The man mumbles, then moves his head to face the ceiling. "I'm ready."
"Okay," Shizuo says, and he places the defibrillator over the man's heart. "Here goes."
He silently counts one, two, three in his head; on three, he places the paddles onto the man's chest - and suddenly, Shizuo can feel himself flying backwards, and everything goes black.
"Hey, partner. How're you feeling?"
Shizuo's eyes slowly, blearily open; the ceiling he's staring at is a pristine white, and his eyes rove around til he sees Tom's smiling face. Next to him is Shinra, who's still got that ever present, pleasant looking grin on. His chest hurts, and he blinks wearily as his vision starts to adjust.
"... What..." He croaks out, throat uncomfortable dry, "Where's the... targ-"
"Haha, look at him! Just woke up, and he's already worried about the job!" Shinra cuts him off, "That's why you're the best, Shizuo."
Tom just keeps smiling at him, but Shizuo can tell there's something they're not telling him.
Like why the fuck he's in a hospital bed, IV hooked up to his arm - when he should be home with Kasuka.
"What happened?" He swallows the dryness down, or at least tries to. "Why..."
Tom steps forward, placing a hand on Shizuo's arm. "Shizuo, do you remember the last job?" Of course he does. It was supposed to be the last hurrah. "Well... something went wrong." Tom looks down. "You... had a cardiac arrest."
What? His mind whirls. What? This wasn't supposed to happen. "What?"
"I went in when you didn't come out, and the target tried to run - probably didn't know I was there. As soon as I called you an ambulance and chased the guy, they took you here. And then..." Tom's eyes look down again, but they're focused on Shizuo's chest.
Eyes narrowed, he looks down; the special kind of medical 'hot glue' they've developed is slightly raised on his chest in a straight line, almost like it's soldering his flesh together. Right where his heart should be. If he wasn't awake before, he is now. The defibrillator must have malfunctioned.
"... the fuck-!" The heart monitor starts beeping faster and faster.
"Top of the line," Shinra butts in again, ignoring the frantic look on the blond's face. "It's the best we've got, for the best!" He grins cheerily, and Shizuo wants to both punch it off his face and make sure Shinra's not talking about what he thinks he might be.
He swallows again and tries to regain some semblance of calm. The beeping slows down. "... is this..."
Tom's eyes are gravely serious. "An artificial heart. It was the only way-"
Shizuo lets out an animalistic roar before he sits up in bed, ripping the IV out of his arm. Before either of them can stop him, he stumbles onto his feet, treading clumsily into the hallway.
No. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. He was supposed to have the last fucking hurrah and be done with it. Now he's been saddled with a fake ticker - his chest clenches uncomfortably as he hears the two of them call out to him in the distance.
"Excuse me, sir! You shouldn't be out of bed!" A passing nurse calls out to him, but he ignores her and continues staggering down the hallway.
"Shizuo! Please, stop! You need to get back into bed!" Tom pleads, and Shizuo falls to his knees. Still, he ignores them and starts crawling on the cool, tiled floor. He needs to get out of here. He needs to see Kasuka.
"Shizuo." Shinra's calm voice comes from right beside him as the blond's hand reaches out to steady himself. "There's nothing you can do about it. It's already inside of you, or else you'd be dead."
There's no way he can pay this off, he thinks as continues to ever so slowly drag himself forward. Not with a sales job - even if it is at the Union. His heart, or the fake piece of pulsing metal that's taken its place begins to ache sharply, and he finds to his dismay he can't move anymore.
"Come on. We'll take care of you." Shinra tells him.
"Please, Shizuo," Tom is beside him now, too, "I don't want to see you in pain..."
Shizuo slumps down on the floor, cheek resting against the floor as he stares dully at the white hallway walls.
Shinra kneels down in front of him, right into his line of sight. "You owe it to your family." That fucker, Shizuo thinks angrily, He's going to try to use those goddamn words on me - but his body does not show the turbulence that lies inside. "You owe it to yourself."
A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed, and that it made sense! :D;;
Please review, more reviews mean faster updates and that I won't give up on this... Thanks for reading.
And hopefully, reviewing!