The Dirt Under Our Nails
by Max
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing
Note: The tech level is on par with Not Quite Single, but this Duo doesn't have as much money as that Duo did.
The one-room apartment probably hadn't looked truly clean since the first person had it, some hundred years beforehand. A fresh coat of paint and a new mini-fridge hadn't done much to hide the age of the place. It wasn't like Duo was doing heaps better himself. At 35, he looked easily ten years on from what he was. But like the apartment, everything was lean and efficient.
He rolled out of his twin bed, soft black cotton pants hanging low on his waist. The curved line of his hip bone underlined lean abdominals, firm and tight. Three bullet scars on his back looked like Orion's belt and had narrowly missed his spine. Burn scars like swirled across his lower back like a storm that would never be over, not really.
His braid was long, brushing over the blemishes as if it weren't shit. A thread of silver ran from temple to tip, a little like penance that was prettier than having any real meaning. Standing there next to his bed, with a bottom sheet and a blanket, a pillow that wouldn't have know a pillow case if the Pope themselves overnighted one, he scrubbed his face with both hand, being careful to keep the prosthetic little finger away from his eyes. That was proof that learning could happen.
The world before his marble was disconnected, timeless. It was a world where anything could happen, but nothing bad was going to happen. It was a world that never lasted.
Yawning, fingers rubbing his jaw, he padded his three steps to the kitchen. His cup, clean and dry, with his rosary hanging out, the crucifix silver against the black textured paper. The cup had belonged to Heero once. They'd been at some shitty cafe, trying to talk and finding everything awkward as fuck. Duo was still sure there were things he wanted to say, but didn't know how.
Heero had walked away that day, leaving a younger Duo sitting alone at the table till he cried, even though much older Duo still didn't know why. He paid the tab and he'd kept Heero's stupid cup. He had it preserved and every morning it held his rosary and every night iit held his coffee. When he was out doing what he had to do, it did what it wanted, just like Heero, so it was almost as good as the real thing.
He pressed his lips to the cross, and in a deep, serious voice, recited, "Credo in Deum Parente omnipotentem, Creatorem caeli et terrae, et in Iesum Christum, Non Aliud malorum puer noster pastor qui conceptus est de Spiritu Sancto, natus ex Maria Virgine, passus sub Pontio Pilato, crucifixus, mortuus, et sepultus, descendit ad infernos, tertia die resurrexit a mortuis ascendit ad caelos, sedet ad dexteram Dei Patris omnipotentis, inde venturus est iudicare vivos et mortuos.
Credo in Spiritum Sanctum, sanctam Ecclesiam catholicam, sanctorum communionem, remissionem peccatorum, carnis resurrectionem, vitam aeternam." He paused pressed his lips again to the bare silver cross, "Amen."
At that point his coffee was done and he only managed a few Hail Mary's before throwing himself into the shower. Eternal life. As lukewarm water misted at his face, as good a shower as he was a Christian, he thought he deserved exactly that. Not heaven, not hell, just this in between, this life of endless almost hunger.
Anger bubbled up suddenly and only experience kept him from punching the concrete wall of his shower. It was probably good that Heero had moved on with whatever he found valuable because having him watch this endless slow death by the middle of nothing bullshit would have been deeply embarrassing.
Maybe today was the day to throw that cup away, for real this time.
He left his place in a cheap rent-a-cop uniform, his rosary next to his chest and Heero's cup safe on the counter, the only dish in the place, where it always was.
The train made his place seem like sanctuary. There had been a time when the night shift train into city center on had been mostly empty. Now it was only empty of space.
He got on at the first stop though, so he had his seat. Which meant he had no excuse not to put on his marble. As it melted into his ear, warm and soothing, it seemed like just as much of a lie as almost everything else. It vibrated with inbound connection request as soon as it was stable.
Duo sighed, and spend a couple buzzes watching the glittering lights of the growing city before answering "Maxwell. I'm on my way, if that's what yer callin' about."
The voice was warm, almost overly cheerful, cultivated, and deceptively safe. "Duo! I'm so glad I reached you! I've been trying for DAYS. How are you, my dearest friend?"
Duo's eyes swished shut, his nose wrinkling. "Fine, Q. I don't need a job. I'm not touching the account you set up for me."
"Oh my goodness, I didn't expect any of that to change. Let's just start by saying hello and being old friends, like we are, shall we," Quatre said, his voice sweet like if you don't talk to me I'm going to buy the colony you live on and space your ass.
"Okay," Duo said, sighing head resting against the window. "What's up?"
"Trowa and I just had our 15th anniversary! I was so sad you couldn't make the party!"
"It was ten days long and I don't have that kind of vacation saved up," Duo said, feeling like he'd said it before.
"Well, I postponed it until you can come. It's just not a celebration without you," Quatre said.
"Oh Q," Duo said softly, "Don't pull this bullshit. Things can't be what they were. It's just not how time works."
"Well, be that as it may," Quatre said and Duo imagined him as a little blond snake, slowly circling a little wild brown mouse, "I have something far more important to talk to you about."
"So what's that," Duo said, but is attention was on the teenage girl whose hand held by Old Lady Combs' purse for a moment too long. So he really didn't hear what Quatre was saying, though it sounded all formally and bothersome. "Hey, give me a second. I gotta deal with something."
"This is important," Quatre nearly shouted, but after that everything he was saying went down to a groaning string of mumbles for Duo.
With reluctance, Duo got out of his seat. He glared at the people right next to him. "I'm coming back. Don't take my seat."
They looked at him like they were looking through him, ignoring his rude, and completely unrealistic expectation.
While the colony was growing, that didn't mean that Duo didn't know most of the people lived at this end of it. They were his people, in some way, and what happened to them was his to take care of. They got by a couple of stops before the girl got to the doors between the cars and Duo's hand landed on them, keeping them from opening, before she could escape. "Hey."
"Hey, Maxwell," she said, looking up at him and if dirty looks were bombs, he'd be radioactive. "I ain't picking pockets."
"Uh," Duo said, eyes rolling before narrowing. "Lemme see yer hand."
She shoved her hands down deeper into her coat pocket. "I don't have to. You ain't law."
In his ear, Quatre was agreeing with the girl. "Don't you have actual law enforcement in that poorly structured social experiment," he snarled.
"Is this guy bothering you," a larger man in a suit asked, standing up from his seat, which was filled so fast they brushed against him as they sat down.
"Who da fuck'er you," Duo snapped.
"Oh god, Duo, please don't get killed on the train. I really need you," Quatre begged.
"I'm not the guy bothering a school girl on the train," the guy said pressing his fist against his palm.
"Uh," Duo said, "Syliva, you wanna tell the nice hero man why I'm bothering you, or should I?"
"How the hell should I know why you're bothering me," she lied. "I hope he kicks your ass."
"Stop your bullshit," a middle aged woman in the elevated seats in the middle shouted. "Leave him alone. That's Duo Maxwell. Syliva is a known thief."
"Funny," the big guy said. "You don't look like a cop to me."
"No? I'm the fucking undertaker, bitch," Duo snarled as the train went into a tunnel.
Once the tunnel had been as secure as the rest of the line, which wasn't very, but better than nothing. Those security measures needed maintenance.
As soon as the lights went to the bare minimum, the guy swung. Duo dodged, both hands grabbing the guys arm, pulling, giving more momentum that carried the man's punch right into the metal glass of the window. He followed with an elbow to the guy's chin, driving his head back. Then he stepped on his foot and gave him a really solid punch to the face. Blood sprayed everywhere. The man fell backwards into the regular riders who were already pissed and now dotted with his blood.
Duo's second punch, much lighter, barely a hard tap hit Syliva's back, over a rib he knew was bruised. "Don't. Fucking. Steal. From. Us! You wanna steal, do it up town. Don't do it here. If I see or here you doing it again, I'll make sure you don't live in sector 9 anymore. Do you understand me completely clearly this time?"
"Yeah! Yeah! I'm sorry! Fuck!" she hissed as she gestured to the altered marble set in her palm, as she sent the stolen funds back. "I'm sorry."
Duo turned back to the man. "Stop!" Someone was just about to give him a stomp to the head. "Don't kill him."
Duo reached for the man's hand, grabbed him by the wrist and jerked him to his feet. He was going to need a new shirt before work.
The guy ran a hand over his forehead, like he was trying to hold in the contents.
"I'm on the 6:45 train every day. You don't be on my train."
"Are you done," Quatre ground out.
"Yeah, man, I'm done. What can I do for you? You need someone's ass kicked or some useless fucking boxes watched, I'm your man."
"I have just bribed Heero out of prison, Duo."
"Oh." Duo's face went pale. "Is... is he okay?"
"I am sponsoring a new colony and I need you to lead it, so he'll have a safe place to be. I need a strong leader to take control on the ground. Do you think you might be able to help me out with that? Perhaps you and a few hundred of your train mob? Heero is dangerous. I can't leave him in anyone's care except yours. IF you're too busy watching useless boxes, I'll understand."
"Ah, I, Ah, yeah, I can do it," Duo said, though he didn't fucking know how. He didn't know how to lead a colony, but he'd take over Hell for Heero, if he had to. "What do you need me to do?"