Dark Reflections

by Jemisard

Disclaimers: They arenıt mine. You know that. Iım just borrowing them.

Notes: Thank you to Kat, my inspiration, Taryn, who started up that wonderful archive, Hanofer, my guiding angel, Lythias, who I usually thank for listening, and Forest, who gave me the kick I needed, whether you realise it or not.

Summary: A space anomaly causes one of the team to encounter a world so different, yet close enough to be frighteningly real.

Warnings: Misuse of well loved characters. Violence, abuse, profanity.

Hunk was shoved hard in the back, sending him sprawling on the floor. He caught himself with his bound hands before his face hit the ground.

"Is this him?" A soft, barely discernible voice murmured above him.

"Yes, sir. We found him on the outskirts of the old village. He claimed to know you."

"Really? I donıt remember having met him before."

"He also mentioned that traitor from the castle, and that, thing."

"Ah, them."

Hunk couldnıt move, the hands on his neck were strong. He had thought that this was Arus. No, this was Arus, but not his Arus. That space disruption must have done something seriously wrong to the fabric of the space-time continuum.

He had asked about the team at the gates. That had gotten him arrested and brought down to the dungeon. In their the prisoner had told him about the cruel and sadistic leader here, who had murdered the rightful heir to the throne a couple of years ago. Not only that, but this person was a monster who had driven Doom out of this end of the galaxy, after torturing Lotor to death on public broadcast.

A terrible, seductive and cruel leader, who tolerated no betrayal, real or perceived.

He couldnıt work out who spoke to him. The voice was deep and seductive as it spoke to him, "Youıre quite something else."

"Who are you?"

"Let him go. He wonıt hurt me in here."

Hunk felt the pressure lessen on his neck and arms. He stretched out and rubbed the sore muscles, before looking up. "God, no," he whispered.

The narrow body was all too familiar, though dressed in black now, all sleek lines. Solemn brown eyes gazed at him, the soft mouth curved and auburn hair slicked back, rather than left wild.

A slim hand reached out and helped him up. He stared, numb, at his tiny friend, the terror who had Zarkon running in fear.


The eyes narrowed. "Once. How did you come to know that name?"

"Itıs your name. You."

The eyes lightened with laughter, but it was a laughter that left him cold and touched a place in his heart that screamed for the loss of innocence. "Iıve not been that for a while. What is your name?"


There was that cold smile again. "Tsuyoshi, I want you to remember something." A slim hand ran along his face, sucking the warmth from the skin in a blazing trail of ice. "You are mine, from this day forth." Staring at the small figure, a single tear tried to escape his eye. "I always have been, Hiroshi," he murmured.

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