Author's Note: Blame Brenna, it's her fault I wrote the story. And blame Nicole, 'cause it's her fault I wrote the story too. It didn't turn out quite as well as I had wanted it to. But, what can I say? It's been about a year since I've written fan fiction. Enjoy.

Pavlov's Dog

The rain continued to trickle down from the black smoke-filled sky. It fell upon the twisted, heated metal of the mobile suit with a gentle hiss, trials of steam curling into the chilled air

Portions of the thick forest that had once served as cover still burned viciously, despite the storm. He didn't think anything would be able to quench its rage.

And he wasn't about to try and stop it. He wanted nothing more than to see the entire island reduced to ash.

The sound of helicopter blades whirred madly above the screen of smoke, trying to spot a decent place to land. Yet the only portion not yet scorched was the mansion on the cliff. It stood overlooking the sea a few miles away and it would take the team awhile to make their way cautiously down the jagged, rocky terrain and into the forest.

He cast a glance toward the deformed hunk of metal that was once a suit. If he hadn't been there when it was destroyed, he would have mistaken it merely for scrap.

The cockpit door continued to spark slightly from where it had been torn open savagely during the battle. The metallic smell of blood had begun to ferment from inside.

He leaned against a tree and slid down to the wet earth. Various roots protruded from the ground; they were gnarled and charred like old, blackened fingers reaching out for something to hold onto.

…something to hold onto…

He raised his hands solemnly to his face. Already he'd tried to wash the crimson stains coating his palms with mud. Yet the color refused to leave his skin.

He groaned and stared into the sky. Closing his eyes, he let the raindrops fall gently on his eyelids. There was such a deafening silence here; peaceful, and yet, so chaotic.

He lie there for hours, his breathing in short shallow gasps. He could hear voices calling out his name in desperation and muffled thwacks as they cut through what was left of the heavy vegetation. He moaned and fell over onto his side.

Preventer was finally here, but they had already come too late.

Eight Months Earlier

September 197

Location: Unknown

The man poked at the heated embers with a shard of metal he had scavenged from the other side of the island. He clutched his arm in an attempt to suppress the blood flowing from still open wound.

A gentle breeze ruffled the treetops, blowing leaves into the makeshift campsite. Winter was approaching, and from the feel of it, it was going to be a cold one.

The man momentarily let go of his prod, floundering to retrieve the military jacket he'd tossed over a nearby stump. Throwing it over his tattered legs, he continued to coax heat from the bits of charred wood.

A few moments later he pulled the red tip from the fire only to stare at it, wide-eyed for a while more. Carefully peeling his hand away from the gash, he placed the metal against his skin.

The flesh sizzled and burned as the wound closed.

The man winced, but didn't scream. Screaming for him was impossible.

After a few moments he removed the metal shard from his arm and placed it gently back into the fire. Thunder crashed in the distance. The man looked into the sky and scowled. Tonight's storm was not going to be a pretty one.

He stood and brushed off the debris and dirt that clung to his pants. He looked around for a moment, gauging the surrounding area.

For the past week or so he'd found temporary sanctuary within the clearing. The trees surrounding the area were old and tall, the gnarled branches reaching high enough to shield him from any of the watchtowers poised along the island outskirts. He seemed to find some type of rest within the small refuge, no matter how momentary it was.

Slowly he made his way under the scanty tent. The palm leaves provided adequate cover from a measly dribble, but he wasn't sure how well it would serve him tonight. He pulled his jacket over his shoulders, placing his head lightly on the rock he'd been using as a pillow. As he slowly began to fall asleep, he prayed that he'd still be alive to see the sunrise in the morning.

The leaves hardly did anything to block the storm. Rain pelted his face, stinging his skin. He cowered and cursed, attempting to turn and hissing as the pain from the wound in his arm flared. Damn him. Damn Yamata and his games, he thought bitterly as he shuffled to find some place that would protect him from the rain.

He leaned against a tree, resting his head lightly on the trunk. His head pounded. I don't know how much longer I can keep this up, he mused angrily to himself. He felt the earth shake beneath him. The noises were like constant pulses that ricocheted through the ground, reverberating through his already tired body.

And then he heard it, faint, yet still distinguishable through the rain. The gentle sound that was borne and carried by the wind. The one sound he'd been conditioned never to forget.

Suddenly his mouth went dry and his heart lunged into his throat. He clenched his palms tightly, trying to peer vainly into the trees. But the rain provided a near-opaque curtain of the landscape. Damn it, his mind screamed as his feet began to move of their own accord. Not now. I can't die now!

Before he knew it he could hear the mobile suit crash through the clearing behind him. The snap of the trees only magnified the panic coursing through him. I've got to get off this island. I've got to get back. I've got to let Preventer know…

A smoldering tree fell in front of him and he spun rapidly, barely avoiding the saplings that reached out to claw at his face.

"There's no use in running anymore, Elias. The hunt is over."

The voice was old, even over the crackle of the rain and the intercom. Elias's eyes grew wide as he turned to face the large mass in front of him.

Steam rose from the suit blocking out even more of the area. The suit's arm leveled toward the man, taking aim for his head. Elias backpedaled, trying to feel his way around the fallen timber. "Just surrender, Elias. There's no point anymore. Game ov--"

Elias whirled and ran, flailing through the branches that smacked his face. He could hear the sinister laughter echoing through the air. "You're only drawing out my fun, Elias. You can't escape anymore. You know that." The cackling continued until he could no longer hear anything but the rain and his own heartbeat.

Elias had been on the island long enough to know every area, every grove, every ditch. He slid down the muddy embankment, wincing as he felt his ankle twist in the wet grass. But he couldn't stop now. He couldn't, not until he let the others know what was happening, the reason for all the disappearances.

He stopped just before throwing himself over the cliff. He waved his arms, trying to regain his balance. Below him angry waves crashed onto a shoreline of jagged, protruding rocks. He watched the waves for a few moments, contemplating the fastest way to make it down the cliffside with a sprained ankle. Slowly his heartbeat returned to normal.

"You cannot win, Elias. I know this island better than anyone."

Elias stopped breathing, peering over his shoulder.

The figure in the rain stood smugly, rain dripping from the brim of his hat. His eyes were hidden by the deep shadow that obscured his face. His shoulders sagged. "I grow tired of this game, Elias. I'm not as young as I used to be. You've grown tiresome." He lifted his head, his smile snaking across his face like a scar. The gentle tinkling of a wind chime filtered over the rain. Panic rose in Elias again. That sound. That awful sound"I'd at least like my prey to scream before they die. But you can't even do that now, can you…Elias…" As he drew out the last syllables of his name, the figure lifted a gun from his side.

Elias took a step back, feeling the edge of the cliff behind his heel. I've got to get back, his mind still screamed. I've got to let Preventer know…

The crack shattered his thoughts, and the last thing he could remember was falling backwards and the sounds of waves drowning out the wind chimes.

One Months Later

October 197

Location: Preventer-Sicily Base

Heero made his way toward the medical ward, his mind already preoccupied with questions for the patient. Three weeks ago the man had been found floating in the ocean on a piece of driftwood, barely alive. It was a miracle that he was even in the condition that he was. The wound in his right side had festered, contaminated with the salts and random bits of floating debris in the water. How the man had even managed to survive, however, wasn't the prime reason for his visit.

He opened the patient's door with a squeak that resonated down the empty corridor.

Duo was already sitting at the man's bedside, chair turned and leaning on the side of the bed. His braid hung down his back, swinging from side to side as the ex-gundam pilot rocked on the chair's legs. He leaned backwards as he heard the door. Instantly his violet eyes lit with excitement and something else that Heero couldn't quite place. The look had grown deeper over the course of the past year, and yet it still irked him. He hated things he couldn't understand.

"Heero! Buddy!" The pilot chirped, a smile cracking over his face. "I didn't think you'd get here so quickly. He only woke up just a few minutes ago." He turned back to the patient.

All the natural color had drained from the man's face and was replaced with a sickly green. He sat upright, a thin sheen of sweat covering his forehead. He raised a rickety hand to wipe away the bangs from his eyes.

"Can he speak yet?" Heero questioned, pulling up another chair. The smile disappeared from Duo's face as he shook his head regretfully.

"Nah. Elias won't be able to speak ever again."

The man in the bed perked up at the sound of his name. He nodded slightly toward Heero, as if he'd just woken up from a haze.

"We have to communicate in a sort of makeshift sign language," Duo continued. "The muscles in his arms haven't yet regained all the control they used to, so he can't write things down. And well…speaking is definitely out of the question."

Heero scowled, looking over his companion. The strain was finally beginning to lift from his face. For the past three months, Duo had been worried about his newest recruit. The man had been on a scouting mission, trying to discover the whereabouts of missing shiploads of old war parts. Ever since he'd gone missing, Duo had been worrying himself sick, blaming himself for not training his men properly. Heero had reprimanded him on numerous occasions; it was never good to become too attached. Attachment only led to unnecessary pain when the time for parting came. Yet still, now that the recruit had been recovered, it was good to have his friend return to his somewhat jovial self again.

"And why won't he be able to speak?"

Duo's eyes darkened, then turned toward Elias. "Elias? I know you're still recovering from everything, but…"

The patient nodded slightly, nothing more than a quick dip of his head. He opened his mouth, showing Heero the hole where his tongue should have been.

"You see," Duo said, locking his fingers together and resting his forehead on his fists. "Some bastard cut his tongue out."

Elias closed his mouth and tipped his head toward the window, making a low, gurgling noise in the back of his throat. Duo sighed and rose to open the window. A crisp autumn breeze wafted through the room, ruffling the linen curtains. Sounds of the bustling traffic outside filtered in as well.

"Do we know what happened at all?" Heero asked, trying to keep his mind on his questions and not the image of the speechless man's mouth. "Who did it, why they did it…"

Duo shook his head again. "I'm telling you, Heero, he only just woke up. The only thing I've gotten so far is a mixed assortment of gurgles and wide-eyed glances. That, and that he was abducted somewhere in the Mediterranean."

Heero scowled again. It would take months, possibly years, to completely search an area as vast as that. "Have you asked him yet who was responsible for this?" He cast a glance at the patient. He was staring out the window, seemingly absorbed by the hectic and discordant sounds from the base.

Duo continued to shake his head. "I asked him all the major players. People from the wars, leading businessmen, the usual. I haven't come across anything. This new guy is completely off the record." Heero's face tightened a bit, and Duo felt a lump rise into his throat. He knew that look of utter disappointment all too well and more than anything he hated to be the cause of it. He sighed, resting his head on the bed sheets.

"I'm sorry, Heero. I know how much you were banking on this…" He coughed, then groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and massaging his temples.

Heero cast a searching glance over the man next to him. The slump in Duo's shoulders still hasn't completely disappeared. Even through the marked improvements, there was still something that seemed to be bothering him. The thought itched at Heero constantly, nagging him at random hours of the night. Duo hadn't always been this way before. It was only in the past year that he'd begun to look so beaten, so downtrodden, so defeated.

"Duo, are you feeling alright?" Heero questioned, allowing only a bit of his concern to be reflected in his voice. "You don't look well."

Duo took a deep breath, pushing himself back into an upright position. "I'll be fine. I just need to get a little more sleep, that's all. I'll be alright." He stretched, as if trying to prove his point. Heero's eyes narrowed as he leaned in, inches from Duo's face.

Duo stopped abruptly, his arms falling by his sides. He'd never been this close to Heero before. Even on missions the man had pushed him away, making sure that he, along with everyone else, respected his personal space. Now here Heero was, close enough for Duo to feel his breath against his skin every time the Zero pilot exhaled. Duo suppressed a shudder that threatened to run along his spine. The cobalt eyes stared at him as if drilling and easily extracting information.

"Get some sleep, Duo," Heero commanded in a monotonous voice. "You're no good to anyone if you continue to make yourself sick." Duo inhaled sharply through his teeth. He was still so close…

The door to the room creaked open again, and Heero turned toward the door. Relena smiled at the two pilots, tipping her head to the side and unconsciously trying to smooth out the wrinkles in her skirt.

"Oh, I'm sorry you two. I hope that I'm not interrupting any type of important conversation." Heero leaned away from Duo's face and Duo slowly exhaled.

"What is it, Relena?" Heero lingered on the syllables of her name, just as he always did. Duo could never understand why. Was it because of a deep seeded annoyance he felt for the vice foreign minister? Or could it possibly be something more? Duo's head swam with the thoughts of the two together.

Relena smiled again and motioned toward the patient. "I heard that Duo's soldier had returned. I wanted to come in and check on him." She opened up briefcase, pulling out a small ornament. "It's always good when we can find one of our missing. And I knew how worried Duo had been."

Duo snorted, but otherwise made no comment. He yawned dramatically and stood. "Well, I can see where and when I'm not needed anymore. I think I'll go take your advice, Heero." He made his way toward the door. "Sorry I couldn't stay longer, Relena, but it's always nice to have you visit." Relena hummed.

"But, Duo, don't you want to see what I've brought?" She held up the wind chime so that the wind caught it as it passed. "I thought it would be nice and soothing after such a hectic experience. The man must be compeletely traumati-"

She was cut off by incessant gurgling near the window. Elias's eyes had grown wide in fear, and his whole body had begun to shake. He scrambled from the bed, sheets twisting around his legs.

"Elias calm down!" Duo shouted over the man's noises. "Elias!" Heero made a dash for the patient as he rushed toward the open window.

"Heero, what's happening?" Relena asked, panicked. The wind whipped through the room again. Elias began to flail his arms and Heero grabbed for him. He pushed the gundam pilot away, tripping over the cords and tipping out over the windowsill. Duo's eyes widened.

"NO!"

The cars below screeched to a halt. Duo ran to the window and peered into the street at Elias's body. Blood coated the taxi. Duo's knees buckled. "Oh God," he groaned, sinking to the floor.

Relena choked, dropping the wind chime. It shattered on the tiled floor. "What have I done?" she whispered. Suddenly her eyes fluttered and she fell backward. Heero caught her before she hit the floor.

"Damn it," Duo cursed, banging his fist against the sill. "This wasn't supposed to happen. This wasn't the way things were supposed to happen!"

Heero placed Relena in one of the nearby chairs and made his way toward Duo's bent frame.

"Duo, we can make do without the information…this doesn't mean that-"

Duo's shoulder's shook, a half-laugh, half-sob issuing from his throat. "That's not the point, Heero. That's not it at all." Heero crouched next to the other pilot.

"I told you not to get attached, Duo, I told you-"

"Just shut up, Heero! Damn it! All you can think about is your own objective. It's always been that way with you." Duo turned viciously on his partner. His eyes glistened with restrained anger, fear and frustration, but there weren't any tears at all. "You can't even see what this means. He was the last thing we had to hold on to. The last thing…we…"

Duo's eyes slowly rolled into the back of his head. Heero caught him just as he tipped forward into his arms. The boy had finally passed out.

Heero hoisted him and placed him lightly on the bed. He cast a glance at Relena in the corner before wiping the bangs away from Duo's eyes. Already he could hear the hectic footsteps from down the hallway. It wasn't everyday a high security patient fell from the twelfth story window of a hospital.

Heero sighed and blinked slowly, running his fingers down the chilled skin of Duo's jaw line.

"Don't worry, Duo. It will be alright. I promise."