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High Stakes
Created by NeoVid

Starring Annette Jackson,
	 Tyrell Morgan,
	 and Rachel Miller

Chapter 12: Double or Nothing
Written by Kate Malloy
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Annette awoke from a confusing dream, a mixed-up jumble of images from her 
battle last night, her battle with Talia, her battle with Tyrell, talking with 
Steve...all the recent events that had to do with the Game.  As was the nature 
of dreams, a few moments later she could barely recall what she had been 
thinking about, and dismissed it from her mind.

She realized that she wasn't in her apartment, and it took her a minute to 
figure out that she must be at Tyrell's place.  She was lying on a small cot 
in his living room.  As she sat up, she caught a glance at the time display on
his VCR.

"Oh, dammit!" she exclaimed.

A half-shaven Tyrell came rushing out of the bathroom, still holding his razor.  
"What?  What happened?" he asked.

She threw the covers off and stood hurriedly.  "I'm going to be late for my 
shift!" she cried, pointing at the clock.

Tyrell shook his head.  "No, you're okay.  There's been a water main break 
downtown.  Heard it on the radio this morning."

Annette blinked in surprise, then sighed.  "You're kidding me," she said in
disbelief, flopping back down onto the cot.

"Nope.  Guess the Player's Luck pulls through again, huh?"

"I don't feel very lucky..." Annette murmured, her memory flashing back to last 
night when she...when she...Her face paled.  "Tyrell," she said quietly.  "Last
night, did you see...when I...?" She couldn't bring herself to finish the
sentence.

Tyrell sat down on the couch opposite her, absentmindedly putting the razor on 
the seat next to him.  "You won," he said.

Annette reached into her pocket and pulled out her Cards.  She shuddered as she 
flipped over Hemophile, recalling that the monster was now in her possession.  
She held up the Annette card to Tyrell.  "I used this."

"You did," Tyrell answered simply.

"What..." Annette stumbled over her own words.  "What did it look like?  I mean, 
what happened?  What did you see?"

Tyrell paused, choosing his words carefully.  "You held out the Card.  You said 
your own name.  Then, there was this light...so bright that I couldn't look at 
you.  When it faded, you had become-"

"My picture," Annette interrupted.  "Just like that.  So then?"

"You said a few things to him, then shot his Minion.  It was over.  The Card was 
coming to you.  Then you started to glow again, and you collapsed.  You were 
back to normal when I reached you.  Chris ran off as soon as you started glowing 
again."

"So it was all true," she whispered.  "I really did use it."  Her voice shook 
and her hands trembled.

Tyrell didn't say anything.

"I used it!  I used myself!" she screamed.  "And God, Tyrell, it felt so *good!*  
I felt powerful, completely in control - I felt better than I ever did before in 
my life!  Like I was unstoppable, taking charge of my own destiny..." Her words 
ended in sobs.

Tyrell put his arm around her and let her cry.

"I'm scared," she said after she had finished crying.  "I know I want to feel 
that power again.  When I get challenged again, what's going to stop me from 
using it?"

"I don't know," Tyrell answered honestly.  "I can't even begin to imagine what 
it must have felt like.  I'm sorry, Annette.  I don't know if I can help you 
here."

Annette managed a tiny smile.  "Tyrell, you have helped.  You've become a really 
good friend to me."  She let out a shaky breath, gently moved his arm, and stood 
up.  "And lord knows, I could use a friend right now."  She sniffed and rubbed
her eyes.  "I must look like a mess...Do you mind if I use your bathroom so I 
can
clean up a bit?"

"Go right ahead," Tyrell said with a wave of his hand.

"Thanks."  Annette walked into the bathroom and shut the door.

Tyrell noticed the razor sitting on the cushion beside him.  "Blast it," he 
muttered.

*****

Rachel entered Michael's hospital room to find Katsuya already waiting there, as 
he had been every day since Michael had arrived.

"Hola, Katsuya," she said quietly.

Katsuya nodded in response.  Rachel sat down in the chair closest to Michael's 
bed.

"No change," she stated.  "Not a bit of change.  Dammit.  Damn *me.*"  Her voice
grew louder and angrier, and she clenched her hands into fists.  "How could 
I have been so stupid?  Okay, so there was never an official rule against 
showing your Minions to an outsider, but there was always an unwritten one.
But I didn't care.  All I wanted to do was show him what'd been taking up all my 
time.  Why I was so upset."  She stared straight at Katsuya.  "I didn't know 
what it would do to him," she insisted, her voice quieting and her expression
saddening.  "I didn't think."  She put her head down in her hands.

Katsuya didn't react.  The room became quiet, except for the tinny beeping of
the machines hooked up to Michael.

A little while later, Rachel looked up at Katsuya.  "His parents called me two
days ago," she said softly.  "They knew we were amigos, knew I'd been coming to
visit him.  They asked me if I was there when it happened.  They asked me if I
knew how it had happened.  I lied.  I told them no.  'Cause what was I gonna 
tell them?  'Si, it was me.  I showed him a monster and he went into shock.'"  
She
slowly sighed, then looked back at Michael.  "Yeah, it was me.  I was 
responsible."

Katsuya didn't say anything, nor did his face change expression.  He just sat 
there, his features carefully neutral.

"You said he's running for his life," she continued.  "Running from it.  Running 
from me.  So what about you, Katsuya?  You still running?"

A few minutes passed.

"Yes," Katsuya finally said, in a near-whisper.  "Yes.  Every day of my life.  
Every day until I die."

Rachel looked on the verge of tears, and her hands began to shake.

"But it might not be so bad for your friend," he added.  "What he saw, what you 
showed him, couldn't be as bad as..." His voice trailed off.

"That bad?" Rachel asked in shock.

Katsuya nodded weakly.  "There *can't* be more than one monster like that," he 
stated.

Rachel got up and walked over to Michael's bed.  She reached out and touched his 
hand.  "Michael.  Miguel.  Come back," she pleaded softly.  Now she was actually
crying.  "You gotta come back, dammit!  Stop running away!" she sobbed angrily.  
"I'll help you fight it.  I'm not leaving until you come back.  I don't care if 
you hate me for the rest of your life for what I did to you.  I'm still gonna
fight for you.  Michael.  I'm sorry."

No response.

Well, at any rate, Katsuya thought, what he had told Rachel was true.  He 
couldn't imagine anything, *anything* more terrifying than Shade.

He just wasn't sure if it would do Michael, or Rachel any good.

*****

Once again, Tyrell and Annette stood on Steve's doorstep.  This time, however, 
it had been Annette who suggested coming, since she wanted to talk to Steve 
again.  So after a quick phone call to make sure he was home, the two had headed 
over to his place.

Tyrell pressed the doorbell, and a few moments later, Steve answered.

"Hey, Tyrell, Annette," he greeted them.  "So, what's going on?"

The three stepped inside.

"Hi," Annette said shyly.  "Well...you remember my 'special' Card?  Last night, 
I was challenged...and I used it."

Steve blinked.  "I think we'd better sit down."

They walked to his living room, Annette and Tyrell sitting down on the couch 
while Steve took his usual chair.

"All right," Steve said, almost hesitantly, "tell me what happened."

"I was challenged by a kid who was down to his two last Cards," Annette stated.  
"I didn't want to fight him, but there was no way I could forfeit.  I sent out 
Patchwork, and he brought out this."  She handed Hemophile to Steve.

Steve whistled in surprise.  "Pure Blood.  That's nasty."

"Patchwork was losing," she continued.  "Then I heard this voice in my head - 
but not my voice."

"You didn't tell me that earlier," Tyrell noted.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.  "I'm still very confused.  Anyway...it told me 
to set it free.  Once Patchwork was injured enough, I called it back.  Then I 
held up my Card, and..."

"There was a bright light," Tyrell continued.  "When I could look back, Annette 
was just like the picture in the Card.  She knocked out Hemophile with one shot 
from her bow.  Then she changed back."

"But when I was - well, for lack of a better word, I'll call it 'transformed' - 
I felt fantastic," Annette explained.  "Powerful and...free somehow."

Steve nodded.  "I'd imagine that something like that could give you quite a 
rush," he said.

"I don't really think you could understand it," Annette replied, with a slight
shake of her head.  She examined his face closely. "I'm surprised you haven't 
run away screaming yet," she said with a crooked smile.

Steve let out a breath.  "Takes a bit more than that to scare me, but I will 
admit to feeling just a bit nervous right about now."

"Anyway..." Annette said slowly, "Tyrell and I were talking about the nature of
the Cards last night.  I think that the Cards might represent our spirits.  Our
souls."

"I'm inclined to agree with you," Steve answered.  "In fact, I've been thinking 
about something along that line since the last time you guys visited." He 
scratched  his chin thoughtfully before continuing.  "When you were little, did
you ever pretend that you were a superhero, or a mighty warrior, or a space
adventurer, or something along those lines?"

Annette nodded.  "Yes.  I really liked the story of Robin Hood.  I used to 
pretend I was a princess and I..." Her voice trailed off as she looked at the 
hard she was holding - her Card.  "No.  That's not possible."

"You created a dream persona for yourself," Steve continued.  "An archer 
princess.  A heroine.  Someone strong enough to stand up to any monster, any 
evil force.  So once you created that persona, somewhere in your mind, it became 
real somehow.  That's what manifested in the Card."

"That's...my real spirit?" Annette asked, confused.

"Deep down inside, maybe that's how you really want to see yourself," Steve 
answered.  "Of course, this is all speculation."

"So why wouldn't it sound like me?" she questioned.  "Why would Annette-the-
Card's thoughts be separate from Annette-the-person's?"

"Maybe it's...an aspect of your soul?" Steve wondered.  "I don't know...I've got 
the idea, but it's really hard to find the words to say it."

"I *think* I see what you mean," Tyrell said.  "But I'm not really sure how 
something like this could be possible."

"There is a way we could find out..." Steve mused.  "Since I last talked with 
you guys, I've had two matches.  I won the first and lost the second.  And I 
*was* tempted, especially in that second match, to use Terry's card."

Annette blinked.  "But you...oh no, you can't mean..."

"There's nothing prohibiting Players from releasing their Minions for non-battle 
purposes," Steve continued.  "Perhaps we should try and communicate with Terry."  
He pulled his deck out and shuffled through it until he found Terry.  "Shall 
we?"

*****

Visiting hours were nearly over at the hospital.  Rachel was still sitting by 
Michael's bed, hoping for some sort of response, when that familiar feeling of 
dizziness washed over her.

"Oh, shit.  Not now," Rachel murmured after her head had cleared.

Katsuya looked at her.  "What?"

"I've been challenged."  Rachel pulled out one of her Cards, careful not to let 
Katsuya see the picture, and checked her opponent's stats.  "This has got to be
a mistake," she said angrily.  "A goddamn freaking mistake!"

Katsuya blinked.  "Huh?"

Rachel waved the Card wildly in the air.  "There is no way a Player with a 
Ranking that low should even be able to challenge somebody like me!" she yelled.  
"It goes completely against the rules!  And in order to have a Rank that low, 
he's 
gotta be down to his last Card.  So if he's challenging somebody with my 
reputation, 
he's..."

"Looking to die," Katsuya finished.

"I won't do it!" she cried, her fists balled at her sides.  "No way, no how.  I 
ain't taking somebody out of the Game!  I screwed up enough already," She looked 
over at Michael's bed.  Her next words came slowly and quietly.  "When I started 
this whole thing, when I first became a Player, I swore I'd never do this...I 
had too much pride.  But now, I know I have to.  I'm gonna forfeit."

"No," Katsuya stated.

"What?!  What the hell do you mean?" she practically screamed. 

"You should talk to him," he answered.  "Even if you forfeit, eventually he'll 
be in the same position again, and he'll choose someone else.  If you talk to 
him, maybe you can help him out somehow."

"Then after I talk, I'll forfeit," Rachel insisted.  "Because that's the only 
way I think I can help someone like that."

"Do you really want to be responsible for prolonging the inevitable?" Katsuya 
asked.

"Not everybody's got a death wish, Katsuya!" Rachel exclaimed.

"Like me?" Katsuya said quietly.

"I...I didn't mean that..." Rachel apologized.

"You did," Katsuya answered.  "But that's all right.  I know it's true.  
Anyway..." He hesitated.  "I'll come with you."

"Why?" she asked.

"I know it's true," he repeated.  "But some part of me still clings to a foolish 
hope that I can change that."

Rachel considered his request for a few minutes.  "Okay," she said reluctantly.
"Let's go."

*****

Author's Notes: It all started with a MSTing.  No, seriously.  Over at ImproFic 
Roast, the second fic they did was High Stakes #1.  NeoVid requested it himself, 
and served as the villain.  It was good - not only were the remarks funny, but 
the fic itself was really interesting.  After that, I came on over to BTR, read 
the newer chapters (2-9 at that point), and signed myself up.  Guess I played 
right into Vid's hands on that one, huh? ;)

Another chapter, another crazy author's theory on exactly what the origin of the 
Cards is. ^_^  It's fun to speculate on this.  HS has a really great cast of 
characters, and it was very fun getting into their heads for a little while.

About Rachel and her upcoming opponent...I know that in previous chapters, 
nobody's been able to find out about how many cards his/her opponent has until 
they start fighting, but Rachel struck me as someone who's very smart and has 
figured out exactly what the statistics mean.

Anyhow, thanks to John Evans, Ardweden, and Scott Schimmel for prereading, and 
to NeoVid for starting the story.  Sorry for the delay, John.

And I see that the queue is no longer empty!  Yay!  Now, either I inspired
John and Ard to continue the story, or I screwed things up so badly that they
immediately joined to fix it. ^_~

Kate


Beware the Radish
http://www.mit.edu/~johne/btr/
4/26/00