A Time to Heal

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A Time to Heal
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Manga-verse Appleseed fiction (post Briareos cyberization, still LAPD era)
All characters are property of Masamune Shirow. This is a fan work written purely for the fun of it! Go buy the manga!


Briareos looked up as he heard the apartment door slam, but from his shady corner of the patio couldn’t see Deunan’s arrival. The audible story told by the series of tired thumps and sighs was enough for him to deduce that her day hadn’t gone particularly well. For a moment he considered getting up to check on her, but the impulse faded beneath a fresh wave of apathy. She’d was fine. Deunan was always fine. And if even if she wasn’t, the last thing she needed was an over-sized and clumsy cyborg looming over her needlessly. The girl would shout for him if she needed him.

A steady flow of cursing grew louder as Deunan found her way to the kitchen, cupboards banging and clattering as she fumbled for various items. Seemingly content for the moment, the chaos stilled. Her sigh sounded exhausted. Briareos listened, still somewhat amused that he could hear her heart beat from several rooms away if he wanted. Its steady rhythm kept him company at night even when he was out on their minuscule patio rather than with her in bed. As if thinking about her made her recall his existence, he felt her breathing change even as she gave voice to the question.

“Bri? You home?”

Ennui warred with basic politeness for a long minute before he could muster the will to respond. It was strange how even the effort of speaking had become physically exhausting. “Yeah, girl. I’m here.”

“Hiding on the porch again…” She sighed, padding over to the sliding door and leaning against the jamb to check on him. “Don’t suppose I could get your help with something?”

Even with ‘superior’ optics and reflexes, it still took a minute for her bruises to register. He blinked, or at least, felt like he did, focus dilating with the now-useless reflex. Deunan looked like she’d been on the receiving end of a wrecking ball. One of her eyes was already swollen near-shut, her cheek purpling with what would soon be a spectacular bruise. She had shed her uniform jacket somewhere earlier, her sleeveless under-shirt revealing a layer of tape and gauze running the length of her left arm. Deunan’s right hand had two fingers taped together, either sprained or broken, and the rest of the skin seemed either filthy, or in that pre-bruise grey that promised to turn a purple shade later in the evening. His own nerves ached in sympathy with the painful looking injuries, despite his lack of skin. Like his inability to stop wanting to blink, the memory of bone-deep bruises was visceral, ingrained.

“What the hell happened to you?” Shock did more to energize him than anything yet since morning. He pushed himself to his feet and took a step closer, new angle revealing that the bruising continued over her shoulders and down her back. “You get in a car accident or something? You should be at the hospital!”

“Been and back.” Deunan shrugged, and then winced. “They said that I must have rubber instead of bones, because I ought to be in pieces but I’m not. I’ve got three-day leave to spend flat on my back while this shit clears up, and some pills, and that’s that.”

Holding up the new bottle of grapefruit juice she had bought earlier in the week, she made a face. “With my fingers taped I can’t get the god damn cap off.”

Briareos accepted the bottle reflexively, applying the necessarily minuscule force required to torque the stubborn lid free, careful to not shatter the glass. He paused as he moved to pass it back to her, realizing that if her hand was too compromised to twist correctly it was a wonder she hadn’t dropped the bottle trying to carry it over to him. Shaking his head, he gestured that she could join him in the kitchen before stepping past her. “I’ll get you a cup.”

“Thanks.”

“So what happened?” He leaned against the counter as she skulled the first tall glass-full he provided and awkwardly poured herself another.

“Stairs.” She sighed, holding the glass against her forehead, letting the cold juice chill her bruise.

Briareos puzzled out the one word reply as he dug in the freezer for a set of ice-packs, and wrapped them in dishtowels for her. “Stairs?”

“Lots of stairs.” Deunan sipped her drink and grimaced as the citrus burned her cut lip. “Do we have any whiskey?”

“Rum?” He opened another cabinet to check. “And… wine.”

“Beh.” She shook her head. “Nevermind, I probably shouldn’t mix my drugs anyway.” Slouching sideways, she ignored his noise of dismay as she let herself lean against his arm. Either she didn’t care that his arm wasn’t soft enough to be good padding for battered flesh, or the discomfort was sublimated beneath the aches she was already coping with. She looked up at him with a tired grin, seemingly happy in spite of herself. “Glad to be home.”
He picked up one of the ice-packs and pressed it gently against the worst looking of the bruises on her shoulder. “Only you would think to go down a set of stairs on your head.” Briareos stated, disbelieving.

“Lots of stairs.” She agreed grimly. “Lots and lots of stairs.”

“You could have broken your neck.” The truth of the statement sunk in even as he voiced the idle comment. As worrying as it was to have her home and bruised, there were far worse possibilities he hadn’t really considered. He could have gotten a phone call instead. The idea of answering such a phone call left him cold. Would he have bothered to pick up the phone? How long would it have taken for him to realize she hadn’t come home on time? His days had become a depressed blur, with only appointments with doctors and Deunan’s comings and goings to anchor him. It was one thing to think to himself that she’d be better off leaving him, but another thing entirely to consider what he would do with himself if she was gone.

“You should see the crack in my helmet. They say I won’t get charged for the replacement because it wasn’t my fault, which is good…“ Deunan didn’t notice his silent anxiety as she laughed at herself, raising a hand to gesture with her glass. She blinked as it slipped out of her tired fingers. “Oops.”

Catching it instinctively, Briareos marveled that he managed the feat, as upset as he was, without exploding the fragile container. He set it carefully on the counter before releasing his held breath. Such reflex-reactions were dangerous, the therapists reminded him all the time. Taking Deunan back to the hospital she’d just left to have glass splinters removed from her face would not have earned him any brownie points with the doctors.

Deunan, of course, remained oblivious to anything beyond her own injuries. Her eyelids were visibly drooping as her energy waned. “Nice save, handsome.”

“Hardly handsome now.” He snorted, amused despite himself at her insistence on the now-irrelevant nickname.

Deunan wrapped her arms around his arm, half a hug, half holding herself upright. “I say you are. And I’m too tired to argue about it.” Not able to reach anything above his bicep, she settled for kissing his arm just below the sleeve of his t-shirt.

It took only a split-second of processor time to analyze the evidence and predict that Deunan wouldn’t make it to the bedroom under her own power. Briareos shifted to scoop her up, achingly aware of how fragile she could be, despite current evidence to the contrary, and managed to bundle her up and against his chest without incident. Sparing her a critical eye as he navigated the hallway to their bedroom he decided she had to have had a dose of whatever it was the doctors had issued her at the hospital. He resolved to pick through her bag and see what exactly had been prescribed as soon as she was settled. If the pills alone could knock her over, he didn’t even want to think of what would happen if she tried to mix alcohol with them later in a fit of boredom. At least he’d be around to keep an eye on her. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do while he waited for the shrinks to pronounce him fit for desk duty.

For the first time in weeks, the idea of getting back to work felt interesting. He frowned as he gently deposited Deunan against the mattress and began the slow chore of working her shirt and slacks off without doing her further damage. Already dozing, she didn’t even notice his efforts. Briareos took stock of her scrapes and bruises, and shook his head as he tucked the blanket around her. If this was the sort of thing that happened while he was off duty, he’d be obliged to hurry up and get his shit together. Not even fully in SWAT yet, and the girl was already sent home on medical leave? It was worrying. He should have been there for her.

Twenty minutes and he found he had not only picked up the debris of her random arrival, but also straightened the living room and kitchen in the expectation of having another person sharing the apartment for more than just sleep in the near future. Books were back on the shelf and water put on to boil for when inspiration about dinner struck, leaving him with a bottle of pills and a grim sense of urgency as he sat at the kitchen table and dialed the number for Academy’s doctor-in-residence.

“Doc, this is Briareos.”

“I had a feeling I’d be hearing from you today.” Doctor Franklin’s voice had a familiar lilt to it. Clearly the man was amused at his call. “I trust your hellcat made it home safe and sound?”

“She said she fell down some stairs.” Briareos turned the bottle over in his hands. “They gave her an absurd amount of codeine.”

“I have the prescription, and the exam report sitting on my computer.” Franklin sighed. “Was just updating the file notes now. Apparently Carl’s little girl has a harder head than he does. Lucky for her. Although I agree the dose is a little high for her weight. Give her half a pill next time and see if it’s good enough.”

“Alright.” He agreed.

“Is that all?” The doctor asked sagely. “Or did you want to discuss your own status as well.”

“I- I wanted to make an appointment with you about getting approved for light duty.” Briareos rubbed his neck, embarrassed that he had come to the point where he had to ask. “I don’t know if I’m ready for SWAT yet, but I-”

“Come see me on Thursday. Ten am. We’ll talk about it.” The voice on the other end of the phone was far too understanding for his liking.

Briareos sighed, wondering when he had become such a boringly predictable mark. Another freelancer would have made easy work of him in the past month, if they could have recognized him, of course. He had to shake the funk he was in before it became permanent. Getting out of the damned apartment and back in uniform would be the first, and possibly hardest step. “Thanks.”