I missed Izzy, so I wrote a little scene thing with him.
the full one is on fanfiction.net under the name "No Knowledge of what Comes"
It will be two chapters long. enjoy.
Izzy woke in utter darkness. If not for the sensation of closing his eyes and opening them again, and the throbbing pain in his shoulder, he could have believed he was still unconscious.
Flashes of what happened ran through his mind like bits of tattered film through one of the school’s old projectors.
He had been reading the Old Code, trying to translate- something- a prophecy- The Prophecy.
It was about Devimon, and someone called the Smallest. One of his friends.
He hadn’t gotten all of it- it had been too complex. Long. But it had been coming together when-
Someone- Unimon?- had shouted his name.
Tentomon digivolved- hadn’t he?
Something had exploded.
He’d passed out.
Frustratingly, that was all he could remember. He guessed by the fact that he wasn’t stiff- not too stiff anyway- and that he wasn’t hungry or thirsty that he’d only been out a few hours at most. It couldn’t be too much since dawn- two or three hours at most.
That meant around eight o clock, maybe nine.
That meant that the others would be getting ready for school, or were already there.
And that meant no help was coming anytime soon. Probably.
Most likely they don’t know Sora and I are in danger yet. Sora. Oh, crap.
Suddenly everything his logical mind had been screaming at him since he regained consciousness fit together. It was probably a good thing he was still sitting down in the dark corner of- of wherever he was- because his legs went weak.
He’d been captured. By Devimon, probably. Crap.
“Tentomon?” his voice was flat, and echoed slightly. A cave, he was in a cave, likely on Infinity mountain because even though Izzy didn’t read fantasy novels like Kari or T.K. or watch action movies like Matt or Tai (Or Joe, surprisingly) he knew that it was always evil villains in evil caves on evil mountains.
There was no response. “Tentomon!” he shouted. “Sora? Biyomon?”
Nothing.
That scared Izzy more than being captured. He was alone, if it was because his friends- his friends!- where being held elsewhere, or because they were- were-
Maybe they escaped. Maybe they got away.
He didn’t know.
He would hold on to that hope.
Izzy stood, bracing himself against the cold, stone wall. OK. He was in a cave, in the dark, with no allies or- a quick check told him he didn’t have his digivice.
He was a sitting duck. Devimon could come in right now, and-
The room was triangular, ten paces long on two sides and thirteen on the last, he counted involuntarily as he paced his prison. It was easier to think about trivial things like that then what might happen next.
Izzy hated not knowing what was to come, but part of his mind argued that in this case, maybe it was better not to know. The other half argued that it was easier to plan if one knew what was coming, and the first half began to panic about - what plan? What can I do? With no one there, against Devimon?
Izzy began to count again to drown out his own logic.
He remembered something from what seemed like lifetimes ago, before his world had revolved around anything but grades, computers, and school.
He’d feared the dark as a child, and still did, although less so. Now, sitting in the dark, waiting, alone, his shoulder throbbing- he feared the dark again.
Feel the fear till the count of ten.
It had been his mother- who had taught him the rhyme and the way to overcome.
Then count once more to feel brave again.
One. two. three.
He wished his mother was there to hold him like he hadn’t needed since fighting Myotismon. But, no, he didn’t because that would mean she would be trapped, too, and Izzy did not want that.
So he summoned her words and counted, slowly, allowing his fear to fill him- four, five, six seven eightnineten- and then trying to force it away with Light- tennine eightseven six. five, four, his friends would come for him. Three. Always. Two.
Tentomon would find him.
One.
His fear faded, but only a touch.Logical, he was nothing if not logical. His friends might not make it in time, in time for what he would not let himself think.
The Prophecy. He could think about that. His friends had to know about it, even if he didn’t have the details, had to know that only one of them could defeat devimon.
“Cody, Kari, T.K.” he said aloud, faces swimming in the shadow before him. “One of them. T.K. beat him before. Might again? But he didn’t stay dead. Cody’s little, the youngest currently. The smallest. Could be.” Though he liked the sound of his own voice in the darkness, pretending he was speaking to someone else, he did not want Devimon to hear. Shadows still filled the room, and Izzy could only tell his own hand as a lighter bit of darkness.
But what if it means Digimon? That might be it. Gatomon’s the smallest champion. That argues Kari. She was the Eighth Child. She’s shorter than T.K. But Patamon’s the smallest rookie. No, Salmon is. Still, Cody’s the newest. Why not come out before now? Why now?”
Thinking alone, strangely, seemed to dull his fear, as he tried to sort out his thoughts, not thinking of anything but the problem, not his own situation. It had always been that way, easier to solve something that wasn’t about him than to face things so close.
Perhaps that was why he had thrown himself into school and projects when he’d learned the truth about his past, his parents. It was easier to think if you ignored the fears and hurts. But they were still there.
“Why now?” he said again, this time out loud.
This time, a voice answered.
