Disclaimer: Ugh. No, people. I don't own them.
Note: I was having a hard time having to follow the exact storyline, and this was my stress-relief. /shrugs/ Also, Happy Birthday to me. /sighs/ I'm old now.
Warning: Uh, there's a rather graphically violent scene in the second part. Yeah.
Mindblown
Part I
He'd said he'd survive, and he'd lied.
Duo sat frozen, unable to move. He'd known it was too late. He'd known as soon as Heero had run off with that damn Beam Cannon. He'd known he would be forced to watch Heero die if the worst should happen. He'd just been in denial. Throughout this entire damn debacle, the only one who'd seemed infallible was Heero. The only one who had survived death, who had done the impossible, was Heero. Heero was even the only one to break through Duo's tough act. The only one to force Duo to fall in love, all by doing absolutely nothing.
Duo screamed in that small cockpit, his eyes trapped on the sight of Libra falling, of the Beam Cannon slicing a hole in the Libra. But it didn't break up enough, not enough to save Earth from destruction, and Heero kept falling, trying to get in another hit even though it was obvious that it wouldn't happen. Duo raced forward, threw Deathscythe toward that wreckage, even though there was no chance of doing anything. The others moved forward, too, and he thought they might be trying to stop the Libra somehow, and he let them cover his flank. But then they grabbed him and pulled him back. He wrenched the controls, trying to get free, but they just clamped tighter. He thought he could hear Quatre's voice, ordering a fall back. The Wing Zero got crushed underneath the Libra's weight, under the pressure of re-entry, and it exploded.
Duo's body went slack.
"Shit," the man said, looking down at the braided man's body before he turned back to the screens. "Shit! I hooked him up to mine." He ran a hand through his short fuzz of hair, drummed his fingers against the table. "It's too late now; I have to let it play out for at least forty-eight hours. Damn. Eh?" The screen blipped, pulling up the braided man's vitals. "What's this? It seems he's having quite the reaction to it." He smiled. "It's still salvageable. Let's see where it goes, shall we, Mister Gundam Pilot?"
"Where the hell is Duo?"
Heero slammed into Wufei's office, looking harassed as hell. Wufei couldn't help the chuckle. "Yuy, is that whipped cream in your hair?"
"Shaving cream," Heero snarled, and with one hand swiped at the messy locks on his head. Pieces stuck up to the sky. "Duo felt it necessary to remind me to shave every morning."
Wufei laughed. "Didn't he say something about that last time you came in without shaving? He warned you."
"Wufei, I'm warning you." Heero stepped in, peering into every nook and cranny to see if Duo had once again hidden within his partner's room. He ignored Wufei's snickering. "Has he come in here yet?" He gave Wufei's desk the stink eye.
Wufei sighed. "No, I haven't seen Maxwell since last night. He was called up to the commander's office just before closing. He probably won't be in until noon."
Heero scowled. "So he set this prank up before he left yesterday? How did he know I wouldn't shave?"
Wufei felt it best not to say he'd been there when Duo had set up said prank, specifically when Duo had been tying the string around the door knob. He'd wisely left before he could become an accomplice. "You never do when you drink over four cups of coffee. You're tired, and your internal alarm clock is off by about ten to fifteen minutes."
Heero frowned.
Wufei stood and moved around his desk. "Maxwell's perceptive, isn't he?"
"It's annoying."
Wufei smiled. Heero's lips had firmed. According to Duo, that meant Heero was lying. It was his tell. "Be that as it may, you won't get your revenge until this afternoon. Until then, you might wish to consider washing your hair."
Heero touched one of the spikes in his hair and grimaced. He turned on his heel and left.
Wufei waited politely for the door to shut before he clutched his gut and laughed.
The Libra fell.
Duo couldn't help but watch it as he was dragged back to the nearest colony. It was a huge, hulking mass of metal. Duo couldn't see the remains of the Wing Zero from so far away. Maybe there wasn't anything large enough to be found. Maybe all that was left of Heero was ash. Particles in the dust. He choked.
He could hear the others' voices. Wufei was coldly stating facts. Statistical probability of life still being sustained. Percentage of people who might live, how many would be able to retreat to the colonies. Overpopulation of colonies, limited supplies, overloading of sanitation systems. Trowa was muttering something, and Duo caught Quatre's name in there. Quatre was gasping out orders. "Fall back." "Get back." "We need to formulate a plan."
Duo thought he heard himself, somewhere in there, saying Heero's name. A lot.
He should have known. Heero wasn't perfect. No one was. It had been too much to ask, for a miracle to stop that damn thing. For Heero to pull that miracle out of his ass one more time. They'd relied on him too much. Duo had relied on him too much. Duo had felt like a life was opening up before him. He'd gotten those damn doctors to break off Libra, Oz had been defeated, White Fang had gone down with Zechs. But that damn piece of Libra... it had destroyed the future Duo had seen. One with all of the guys alive. Four friends forged through fire, through hell itself. All of them, living normal lives, or as normal as they could get with their specific sets of skills. He would be able to visit them. Watch them get families. Get closer to Heero, become best friends with the man, a friendship beyond the war, until he could finally work up the courage to tell Heero. Or even not. Just watch him marry the pink princess and be his best man.
He would've taken that. He would've been happy with that. To watch Heero come out of his shell, to watch everything change. For all of them.
Now everything had changed, but it was nothing like he'd imagined.
He couldn't say how long it took Quatre and Trowa to pull him away from that falling wreckage and to the colony. Long enough for the wreckage to turn red on its entry into Earth's atmosphere. Long enough for pieces of it to break off. Duo saw only one disintegrate in the heat. Only one. The rest were large enough to make it to Earth. A few might have already hit. Duo couldn't tell. He was fighting like hell not to cry.
They landed on a colony eventually. Duo didn't pay attention to which colony, or where. He docked automatically, cooling the thrusters and equalizing the cabin pressure and latching the Gundam to the metal of the landing dock. It was only after all this was done that he went to unbuckle himself and found his hands shaking.
Someone pounded on the outer hatch of the cockpit. He looked up from his attempt and just let the person in. He didn't care who it was. It could be a White Fang survivor with the intent to kill him. It could be a husk from a zombie movie, for all he cared.
He didn't know what to think when he saw that it was Quatre who entered. Quatre took one look at Duo's face and grimaced. "I'm sorry, Duo."
They were words of platitude for Duo's loss, but Duo couldn't find it in him to respond emotionally to them. "Yeah," he said, and fumbled once more with the straps. The release mechanism eluded him, and he felt the tears coming right back. He threw his hands up in frustration. "I give up!" Let him die in the damn machine. Let him and Deathscythe go together. He couldn't care.
But little Quatre came in and undid the clasps. "There." And the straps slid free. "Come on. Come with me." And Quatre put one hand over Duo's shoulder and led him out. Duo felt stupid, but when he stood, his legs were weak, hardly able to support him. "There you go; that's it."
Duo only noticed the mayhem around him when Quatre led him on the cable wench to the floor of the dock. Wufei was gone already, and Trowa seemed busy with a host of people. He looked distinctly uncomfortable. People were running around, pointing to shuttles, carrying clipboards, looking harried. It slowly filtered in. They were preparing for a mass incoming of refugees from the planet. He clenched his eyes shut. "This is really happening, isn't it?"
Quatre patted him on the back, but the little blond's face was pinched, his muscles strung tight. "Yes."
God.
Duo tried to take it all in. The landing dock was half full already, with shuttles that would normally take people to another colony, or to Earth, waiting in the dock. Others had already taken on refugees from the war, as colony after colony had been wiped out. More existed for the White Fang and World Nation forces that had to be stationed on-board the colony. Duo felt adrenaline pump through his body at the thought of meeting soldiers from either side. He welcomed the feeling. It dulled the pain.
"You need to take care of them," Duo said, and he pulled away from Quatre's grip. Quatre gave him a wide-eyed stare. "You're a leader, and you own the Winner Foundation. You can strong-arm this chaos." From the look in Quatre's eyes, the little one had already realized this. "You can't afford to carry me around. I'll... catch up." Duo tried a grin, and was upset when it slid right on. He'd smiled through worse. Hadn't he? "And you and I both know Trowa will join you soon."
Quatre wasn't fooled by Duo's smile, but he still waffled. There was a lot to prepare for. "Go," Duo urged. And though Quatre gave him one last look, the little blond went. And only then did Duo see the blood staining the boy's suit. Had he been injured during the last battle?
Duo made his way to Trowa. "Trowa," he said, interrupting the man's conversation, and pulled the pilot away despite the dark looks those speaking to Trowa gave him.
"What is it, Duo?"
"Is Quatre injured?"
Trowa frowned. "Yes. Why?"
"I told him to take over this madness, but when he left, he was bloody. Do you think–"
"I'll take care of it," Trowa said, and searched for Quatre's receding back before racing after it. Duo watched until he was alone amidst the large crowd, and he looked around, lost. He had no idea where to go.
Wufei frowned once more at the clock on his desk. Twelve oh-eight. Where was Maxwell? He'd joked that the braided pilot wouldn't be in by noon, but usually he came in for an hour and bothered Wufei before heading back off to his own office. Wufei knew the fool did it to reassure him that his braided partner was all right, that the man hadn't incurred any injuries. So why wasn't he here? And if Maxwell was injured, why hadn't he, as Maxwell's partner – and friend – been informed?
He stood, ready to confront Une, when his intercom chirped. He turned to it. Une's face stared back at him. "Commander."
"Agent Chang. You and Yuy are to report up here immediately." She didn't say anything more, simply signed off, yet his gut clenched. He raced from his room and marched to Yuy's office down the hall. As he approached, Yuy stepped out and shut his door. Yuy looked up and met Wufei's gaze. With little more than a nod, both turned to the stairwell. Around noon to one, everyone in Preventors rushed to their lunch breaks. The elevators would be busy until about two, when they normally had their own lunches. The stairs would be quicker.
"It's about Duo, isn't it?" Yuy asked, pushing open the door to the stairwell and leading Wufei up.
"It must be." Wufei wanted to tell Yuy to hurry, but Yuy was already taking the stairs three at a time. Une was only one flight of stairs above them, surrounded by tech support and computer kiosks. He didn't tell Yuy about Maxwell's habit of visiting him after a late bust, but Yuy didn't seem to need it, anyway.
They stormed out of the stairwell and through the front lobby, past the harried secretary and straight into Une's office. The room was wide, the carpet plush, the woman's desk facing the door as if to resemble a throne. She sat alone behind it, her hands steepled before her. Her brows were drawn. "Thank you for hurrying," she said, though she eyed the door they'd barged through as if it had done her a great injustice. "I'm sure you're both aware that I gave Agent Maxwell a job last night."
A job. What a cute turn of phrase.
"What happened?" Yuy asked. He took a few steps forward.
"The job was simple enough," she started, and waved them to the seats before her desk. Both refused to move. She sighed. "Agents Turry and Williams were already infiltrating the home of a suspected terrorist. The man had secreted in several boxes of tech supplies, and the two men believed he was building something, possibly a bomb. I sent Agent Maxwell in as a precautionary, just in case the suspect, a Gary Lisben, had already succeeded in creating the bomb. They each reported a successful infiltration last night around oh-one-hundred hours." She stood. "Then things went south. I can't say what has happened to any of them, but I lost contact with Turry and Williams at oh-two-fourteen hours, and Agent Maxwell at oh-four-twenty hours."
"So long?" Heero asked. "Why did you wait?"
She shook her head. "Agent Maxwell found no evidence of any weapons, but instead found what he termed 'a weird thingy.'" She frowned at the words. "He said it was like a chair from a barber shop, only there were several computers surrounding it. I asked him to gain information on the device and to, if possible, find signs of Turry and Williams. I also sent in Agent Wind to assist."
Wufei saw Heero scowl. Heero had never quite gotten used to Merquise's reappearance, or Une's acceptance of him into the Preventors. He said the man had made his decisions, and that they should accept those decisions as they were, not matter any well-meaning intentions. "And what has Agent Wind reported?" Wufei asked.
Une took a deep breath. "It appears that Agents Turry and Williams are dead. Agent Wind has not been able to find the device Agent Maxwell spoke of, but he states that he cannot infiltrate as well as Agent Maxwell."
"We need an assault unit," Heero said. "But it would be dangerous. If Duo's still alive, then our attack may force Lisben's hand."
She nodded. "We have a plan to deal with that, but I'll need you two and potentially Mister Barton, if I can."
"Barton? He's a civilian now. Simple bodyguard." Wufei tried to exchange a look with Heero, but he was already pulling out his phone.
"He may be a bodyguard," Une said, "but he hasn't lost his touch as a fighter, and right now, we need him." She looked at Heero. He punched in a number and held the phone to his ear.
"Quatre? Is Trowa there?" Heero glared at the wall. "I need to speak to him. It's about Duo." Wufei thought he could hear Winner's voice. He sounded upset. "Yes, something's wrong. That's why I need Trowa."
"We'll need to hurry on this," Une said. "If Mister Barton can't convene with us in an hour, we can't bring him with us. His skills with ammunition and agility, however, would be almost paramount to this."
"Trowa," Heero said, and Wufei and Une both turned to him once more. "Duo's in trouble and we need your help. What's your ETA?"
Trowa must have spoken immediately, without even conferring with Quatre, because Heero said, "okay," almost as soon as he'd finished asking. He closed his phone and turned to them. "He'll be here in twenty. What's the plan?"
"Lisben lives in an old house on the west side of the city. Due to the lack of sight on Agent Maxwell, we must assume there's an underground area of some sort, a place beyond a basement."
"How large is the house?"
"It sits on about an acre of land. The house is about a third of that, roughly 2600 feet, including the upper floors. Agents Turry and Williams were found on the ground floor. No basement is said to exist for the property, but..."
"If that were the case, then we would have found Maxwell already."
She nodded. "Exactly. Somehow, Maxwell made his way to where that odd device is located. We can only assume that it was somewhere on the grounds, and that Maxwell found it while making a sweep of the area. There's most likely an entrance somewhere along the edges of the perimeter, and it most likely leads to the room. I would prefer to have Mister Barton take the lead on heading in through that far perimeter. He's able to carry large loads of weaponry, and he's agile. He would be able to move alone through whatever path he would find. You two, on the other hand, will take the house while Lisben is in either the kitchen or the living room. Take him out quickly, before he has the chance to run, but keep him alive in case we need him. Understand?"
They both nodded. Now all they needed was Trowa, and they could storm Lisben's house. Hopefully, they would find Maxwell without any permanent damage.
Duo kept himself busy cleaning out junk yards to make room for incoming refugees. When the Libra collided with the Earth, he stopped working and watched. He didn't know what he expected to see; any cameras on ground zero were decimated. Satellites caught the destruction as it happened, though. The Earth lit like fireworks, great balls of red and yellow flames that spat gray dust through the air. It was surreal, seeing it from so far away. Deaths numbered in the hundreds of millions within the first hour. Duo closed his eyes and shuddered. By the end of the day, shuttles were crowding the landing docks and almost two billion people were counted among the dead.
Duo returned to Deathscythe as the day cycle came to a close. Vid screens were on all over the colony, each one showing the dust as it spread across the sky. Lightning flashed as the temperature changed drastically, the plumes of dust blocking the sun. A few more shuttles were escaping, but some people were probably staying behind, seeing who they could help. Duo could possibly do the same. He had basic medical training. But...
He turned as a crowd exited a shuttle pod. The pod looked banged up; it had most likely been hit by debris from the earth as the meteor hit. A man was shouting, riling up those around him. His goatee, Duo noticed idly, made him look like a cartoon villain. "They're a bunch of demons!" he said, and Duo hated how people turned to him. "Those White Fang bastards destroyed us! The colonies doomed us! And those damn Gundam pilots, weapons of the colonies? They helped! You know it, same as me –they even had the chance to stop this from happening! You want to tell me to calm down? To be reasonable? Why is it that you don't see what's right in front of your face – we were abandoned by these bastards out here!"
Duo took a few deep breaths and carefully stepped away from Deathscythe. It didn't take long for the rumors to circulate. White Fang was to blame for Libra's fall, and the destruction had done all that Zechs had hoped – it had turned Earth against the colonies. There were already reports of shuttles carrying people with guns, people who attacked as soon as they docked, killing everyone in sight. Relena Peacecraft and Quatre were both trying to calm everyone down, but Duo could already tell how that was going to go.
Everything was falling apart. Deathscythe had already sparked fury, and Duo could see the yelling man turning to the Gundam and gesturing wildly. Duo tried to think of what the man must have seen. Maybe he'd lost someone personally. A wife, or a kid. He had to have seen the dead. They were, according to reports, everywhere. The man's home and future had both been ruined in just one day. No job, no place to go, no money. Everything was gone. The way humans lived was demolished, and all because of one man's hate.
Duo shook his head violently. He couldn't let himself think about Heero. Couldn't let himself think about what he himself had lost, and what should have still been.
"You! You! I recognize you!" Duo turned to the sound of the man screaming and stilled. The man was pointing at him. He backed away. "You were captured by Oz! You're one of them! A Gundam pilot!"
It was like the people became a mob. They all descended on him. "You let them attack us! You let this happen!"
And it was like he was a little kid all over again. He ran.
It wouldn't have been his first choice, normally. Even as he turned tail and fled, he knew he would normally stand and face them. He'd shout them down, force his chin high, send retorts flying, dare them to try it. He might even be persuaded to scare the suckers off with his Deathscythe. But at that moment, when all he could think about was how Heero had gone in his own ball of flame, how the signal to Wing Zero had suddenly been lost, all he could think was that he had to get away.
So he did.
Gary Lisben laughed. "Unbelievable," he said. "To think that this would give me what I want, too. And what a wonderful outcome. At this rate, I'll still get the ending I want." The screen before him showed only text on what was occurring, short pieces that said 'Peacecraft argues for universal acceptance' and 'enraged father turns against 02 pilot.' That line, the last among a long stream, made him laugh all over again. "Take him," he said. "Destroy him. Show him a taste of hell."
Barton was better than his word, and in only twelve minutes, he was calling Yuy to say he'd arrived. Wufei and Yuy were already prepared, and it took Barton only a few to get up to speed. Lisben's house was a good ten minute rush through the back streets, a rush Yuy took at ninety miles an hour. Wufei would have been concerned if he hadn't seen how expertly Yuy had handled Wing and Wing Zero.
"If it was four o'clock since she'd heard from Duo, then why did she wait until noon to get in touch with us?" Trowa asked.
"Four twenty," Heero said, correcting Trowa automatically.
"She needed to verify the situation," Wufei said, unhappy with the answer, even if it made sense. "If there was any sort of imminent threat, Zechs was to kill Lisben. However, with no movement from Lisben and Duo lost, it makes more sense to say that Lisben is with Duo, and that Duo is alive. The only problem is that Zechs never found Duo."
"And where is 'Agent Wind' now?"
"He couldn't get any closer, and Une thought it best to not to include someone we don't fully trust."
Both Heero and Trowa humphed at that.
Trowa sat back in his seat behind them and crossed his arms. "It's been over eight hours. If he's been trapped for this long, then..."
It was a good thing Trowa's voice trailed off. Heero wasn't breathing very well.
Wufei leaned his head back. "So," he said conversationally, "will this hasten your answer, Heero?"
Heero's hands gripped the wheel. "You know about that?"
Wufei could feel Trowa's gaze on the back of his head. "Yes. I'm his partner. He told you over two months ago, didn't he?"
"Yes."
Wufei gave Heero a look. "He'd said he was giving up. That he would accept your silence as your answer."
If anything, Heero only gripped the wheel harder.
"What exactly are the two of you talking about?" Trowa asked.
"Maxwell told Yuy that he regarded him as more than a close friend." At Trowa's wide-eyed look, Wufei couldn't help but smile a bit. "For all the good it's done him."
Heero scowled, but said nothing.
Somehow, Wufei couldn't imagine too many scenarios that they may be walking into. Maxwell would have already triumphed over almost anything Lisben could throw at him. If he was being held somewhere, he was either unconscious or dead. Otherwise, he'd be hailing a cab twelve blocks away from Lisben's house right about now. Wufei could only hope that the former was true, and not the latter.
"We're there," Heero said, and just like that, the conversation was dropped. Each man double-checked his weapons as Heero pulled the car to a stop two blocks away from Lisben's house. The yards of the neighboring houses were all huge, each manicured to a lime green perfection. Heero called Une. "We're here," he said, reiterating for Une's sake. "Is he in his kitchen yet?"
"No," Une said, her voice loud enough for Wufei to hear. "But he'll have to come up for food eventually. In the meantime, I would like Barton to search the premises. You two, get into position outside the house and wait for my call."
"Understood." Heero closed his phone, turned it to vibrate, and stuck it in his pants pocket. He repeated her orders for Trowa. The man slipped out without a word, leaving them alone in the car.
"I'm sorry," Wufei said. "Looking at it, this would be one of the worst times to be reminded of what Maxwell had said."
Heero said nothing, but he did stop in the act of opening his door.
"It was thoughtless. I merely wanted to state that time may not always be on your side, Yuy. Maxwell understood that, and I believe that is why he told you how he felt."
"I know." Heero looked down at his lap, where his gun rested. "I never saw this day coming. During the war, I could save him. I guess I thought I would always be there to pull him out."
"We never think it will happen to us, Yuy." Wufei tried very hard not to think of the woman he'd lost so many years ago, a woman even now he dreamed of at night. He didn't want that fate for Yuy or himself. "We need to grab what we can while we can."
"I need to know he's alive first," Heero said, and with that he popped open his door.
Wufei understood the need. Heero could deny his feelings as long as he ignored them. Still, they would remain, and nothing would come from denying them but regret. Wufei knew this from experience. But they were words one couldn't understand until one had felt it themselves. He exited the car, too.
Duo had barely crawled out of the ducts when the vid screens caught his eye again. He froze. On every screen was a picture of Quatre, the little blond grinning, the words 'Terrorist Attack' written under the photo. His heart stopped.
"Winner, after sustaining injuries during the battle on-board the Libra, was attacked today, along with Relena Peacecraft, during a press conference. While Miss Peacecraft was found alive, though with extreme injuries, Mister Winner has been declared dead by the paramedics who arrived..."
Duo screamed.
"This man was seen outside the conference hall shortly before the bombing and is assumed to be responsible in some part for the destruction of Parry Hall and the death of Mister Winner."
Duo looked up to see a photo, obviously enlarged and slightly fuzzy, and his breath stopped. That goatee. That man. He choked. He'd run from that man just an hour ago. If he had just stood up to that man... Quatre...
Duo jumped as a ringing sounded from his hip. His phone. He clutched it like one might a lifeline and opened it. "Hello?"
"Duo."
Duo jumped again at Trowa's voice. "Trowa," he whispered. "I just heard. Quatre..."
Trowa didn't say anything for a while. Then, "yeah. The man. I'm hunting him."
Duo nodded. Purpose. A mission. "I'll help."
Lisben almost cackled at the result. It was better than he could have hoped! Better than he could have dreamed! Seeing it, watching each die off one by one – what a glorious torture. Better than he'd created. Better than he could have hoped. He read each line greedily as they rose. '02 pilot meets 03 pilot outside the conference hall.' '05 pilot attacks terrorist cell.' 'Peacecraft critical condition after 04 guards Peacecraft from bomb. 87 percent chance of survival.'
'Chance of war 100 percent.'
He watched for a while longer before he cut in to the program, searching for information. 'Mallory Lisbeth,' he typed, then searched through results. According to the program, she would continue her civilian status. She wouldn't head out to help the World Nation. She wouldn't be where the pro-Romefeller faction revolted. She wouldn't die helplessly in her own hospital tent. She wouldn't leave him alone.
He sighed. Nothing else mattered.
And hey, why ruin the best part of this pilot's story?
"I found it," Trowa said, his voice soft over the speaker of the phone. "It's small, perfectly blended. Right in the open. Looks like a piece of the garden by the birdbath." Wufei nodded and gave Heero the thumbs up sign. Heero watched Wufei from the corner of his eye, his body still beneath a front window in the yard. "Is he up yet?"
"No," Wufei said. "It's only four. He may not come up for food for hours yet." Heero's lips thinned as Wufei spoke. "We may have to wait quite a while."
"Not necessarily," Heero said. "If we can get him to come upstairs, then we might be able to force a confrontation."
"And how do we do that?" Wufei asked. "We need to go in silently, and we know very little about the man or his motivations. And even if Agent Wind was able to take down any alarms–"
"Wufei." Heero turned to him. "Do you want to wait?"
He hesitated. No. He did not want to wait. Which was exactly why he was afraid of moving too soon. But he nodded. "I understand." Because if he'd acted sooner, his fiancee would still be alive.
Heero hunkered low and slid to the door. Trowa spoke through the phone. "There are no traps or alarms on this trap door. Duo must have taken them off. I'm going in."
"Go ahead," Wufei said, watching Heero as he walked up to the door and... knocked on it. His jaw dropped. "Yuy! What are you doing?"
And Yuy got back down and hid again.
"Yuy!" Wufei hissed.
"Quiet."
Unbelievable. Wufei couldn't choose whether he should glare at Heero or stare at the door as if it had done him a personal disservice.
His jaw dropped again when he heard the approach of footsteps. "You can't be serious," he said, his voice no more than a breath. He saw Yuy grinning from the corner of his eye.
Lisben mumbled something as he opened the door. Yuy moved first, taking point, and shoved his gun in Lisben's face. Wufei was right behind him, searching Lisben as the man stared down the barrel of the gun. "I should have known," he said, but he was grinning. "At this rate, though, it'll be too late. Neither of you can stop it. Neither of you can do anything. There's still thirty-six hours left before you can free him."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Yuy snatched the throat of Lisben's collar, but the man only laughed. Yuy snarled.
"Thirty-six hours," the man said again. "I got one. I finally got one, love. We can start to rest." Yuy wrenched the man's arms back and cuffed him, growling out the Miranda Rights as he did. Wufei hurried into the house. The place was clean, almost of all semblance of personality; a couch sat in front of a small television, a thin hall slid past a half-wall into a kitchen. Both were so wide as to make the empty space stark against the wooden floors. An ornate staircase split the house in half, winding elegantly up to the second floor. He ignored it.
"You, too. I'll get you all." The man grinned as Yuy pushed him inside. Wufei wordlessly handed Heero his own cuffs as Yuy dragged the man to the banister. Yuy latched the man in place, then turned. Still the man laughed. "All of you. All of you bastards. I'll strap you in and watch you die." His laugh then was a bit... maniacal.
Wufei's blood froze in his veins.
"Tell me what you've done." Yuy asked, leaning down in front of the man. Those cobalt eyes were locked on Lisben's face. The man finally stopped laughing. "Tell me what's happened to our comrade."
The man choked on his own spit. "You – you Gundam pilots, you ruined everything!" he screamed. Spittle flew into Yuy's face, but he didn't even flinch. "White Fang was destroyed! You left us survivors to rot! And my wife – my wife!" The man shook his head. "All because you stopped Milliardo Peacecraft from destroying Earth and all of its inhabitants! If you hadn't – if he'd won – my wife would still be alive!"
Yuy pulled out his gun and gently placed it against the man's shoulder. "Tell me."
"Yuy, don't." Heero didn't react to Wufei's words. He stepped closer. "Yuy–"
"I found him."
Wufei jumped at the sound of Barton's voice. He'd forgotten he still held the phone. He brought it closer to his lips. "You found Maxwell? Where?"
Yuy turned to Wufei, finally putting his weapons away again. He stood, those dead eyes set.
"He's... strapped to a chair."
Wufei jerked. Lisben had said he would strap all of them down and watch them die. "Is he alive?"
Yuy took a step forward at that, his eyes narrow.
There was an interminable pause, then, "yes. He's alive. There's a ladder here; I'll get the door from this side. Watch for it."
Wufei wanted to tell Barton to just look after Maxwell, but it had taken Barton almost an hour and a half to find the secret entrance outside. They didn't want to waste time looking around when they could be helping Barton get Maxwell free from whatever was confining him.
After all, Barton had said that he'd found Maxwell, that he was alive, that he was strapped to a chair. That meant Maxwell wasn't in a position to tell Barton just what had happened. Which meant Maxwell wasn't conscious. And though he was happy Maxwell was at least alive, he couldn't help but think on Lisben's words. 'Watch you die.' Maxwell was still in some sort of danger.
He heard a creaking to his right. Yuy hurried to it, Wufei just behind him. It was from the stove, and Wufei's jaw dropped as he saw Yuy pull down the stove and he saw the back of it opened to a metal, vent-like passage. Barton waited within. "Come on." And Barton headed back through, disappearing quickly down the passage. Wufei remembered Barton mentioning a ladder.
Yuy went first, and Wufei took the moment to close his phone, ending his call with Barton, and called Une. "We have Lisben in custody," Wufei said, not waiting for a hello, and he could only hope that she didn't ask how they managed it. "We have yet to find any other form of resistance, and we've located Maxwell."
"I'll bring in a team for clean-up. I'll call the ambulance."
"He's alive," Wufei said. He didn't say 'for now,' but it was in his voice nonetheless.
"Understood," Une said. He could hear the regret in her voice and shuddered slightly. It seemed they were all preparing themselves for the worst.
Yuy was already gone when he turned back to the passageway. It went against all instincts to climb into the stove, but once in the metal shaft, he felt right at home. It reminded him of the few times he crawled through ducts during the war. Most of the time, he simply attacked head-on, but back at the beginning – his mind kept turning to the Victoria Base – he'd gone through this. And the shaft was fairly short, ending in just a few yards in a sheer drop. A ladder was glued awkwardly to the side of the shaft, looking ready to collapse. He took care while traveling down.
"Can you get him loose?"
Wufei dropped down to the floor as soon as he could. He turned to Yuy's voice.
The room was wide, the ceiling high, each portion of the area covered in sheet metal. Despite the room, there was only a mountain of wires and computers to break up the space. The only furniture was what had to be the 'weird thingy' Maxwell had spoken of to Une. It truly did look like a barber shop chair, missing only the seat adjustor. Wires traveled from the chair to what had to be a computer terminal, sitting upon more sheet metal. Barton was making his way toward the terminal, while Yuy knelt by the chair. Wufei walked woodenly forward. In the chair, strapped in by his wrists and ankles, hooked into countless wires, eyes shut, limp...
...was Maxwell.
"What's happened to him?" Wufei asked, though the question was moot. They'd all just arrived down here, and Barton was obviously moving to the terminal in order to find the answer to that. Wufei traced the wires stuck in Maxwell's body to the terminal. His lips thinned. Would it even be possible to remove them without doing permanent damage to Maxwell? Several were latched to his head. Yuy was lightly touching Duo's body, checking his forehead for temperature, skimming over the wires, not even touching them, to trail down to Maxwell's neck. "His heartbeat is accelerated," Yuy said.
"Heero," Barton said. Yuy jumped up and went to Barton's side. Wufei looked down at Maxwell. Even in this short time, he could see a radical change in Maxwell's appearance. He was pale, ghostly so, and his wrists, trapped as they were beneath leather restraints, looked thin and weak. He'd never seen his partner like this. So still. Maxwell was never still.
"What the hell is this?"
Wufei turned. Yuy was leaning over the terminal, his eyes wide, his lips pulled back into a snarl. Wufei felt his own heart hammering. "Yuy?" he asked.
"It's... it's like a virtual reality," Barton said, his eyes scanning the monitors before him. "Look – '05 leaves colony X-17433 and begins colonial purge.' 'Mob outbreak in Sector 9 of colony X-17433 in response to 04's... death." Barton's voice shook there. "What is this?"
"Find out," Yuy snapped. He turned back to Maxwell. "And find out how to safely release Duo from it. Lisben mentioned thirty-six hours – see if you can find something that mentions forty-eight hours."
"All right." And Barton tentatively began typing into the terminal interface, switching from one keyboard to another. Yuy hurried back to Maxwell's side.
"He doesn't seem aware of us at all," Yuy said. Wufei could only nod. Virtual reality? And what did the monitor mean? Was it really what Wufei thought? That for some reason, in that virtual world, Wufei was out killing colonists? That Winner was dead? He stared dumbly down at Maxwell. What world was Maxwell trapped in?
Yuy touched Maxwell's hand. Maxwell didn't so much as twitch. "Duo."
Wufei couldn't find it in him to joke about the hole in Yuy's shell. Maxwell was frowning slightly. Did he frown when he slept? Wufei had thought the grin a permanent attachment. It was demoralizing to see his friend without his usual smile.
He almost laughed at himself. As if Maxwell frowning was the most demoralizing part in this.
"Heero."
Barton's voice was almost breathless now, and both Yuy and Wufei turned to him. "What is it?" Yuy asked. He seemed ready to pounce.
"This is a simulation," Barton said. "A virtual reality prototype. Heero, it's supposed to investigate what would have happened if Wing Zero had failed – if the Libra had crashed onto Earth."
Yuy shivered. "What?" They all turned to look at Maxwell, lifeless in the chair. "What does it mean? Can we get him out?"
"It's on lock-down. We can't get him out until forty-eight hours after the moment he was locked in. We still have over thirty-five hours. And it's hard-wired to... to end at the simulator's death. If Duo dies in there, he dies out here."
Yuy cursed. "Then I'll go in."
"No." Yuy turned to snap at Barton, but Barton was firm. "Right now, the person inside the lock-down truly believes themselves to be in such a world. It's reality to them. Even after we override that, you would still be unable to enter."
"Why?" Yuy asked, but he stopped immediately after. His eyes widened.
Wufei looked away. He knew why. They all did. If the simulation was based around the Libra's continued descent, then that meant that Yuy had failed to destroy it. It meant Yuy would have been trapped underneath the falling ship. He would have died.
Wufei took a deep breath. "I can go. It mentioned me still being alive."
"Yes," Barton said quietly, "but according to this, you're already a fair distance away. You left the colony immediately after reports of Earth survivors targeting colonists came in. It would take you another six hours to return to the colony."
"But it's not infeasible," Yuy said.
"It might as well be," Barton said, raking a hand through his long bangs. "With..." He took a deep breath. "With Quatre dead, Duo and I are attacking the killer. We've already breached the defenses and are fighting our way through the last wall of men."
Why did Wufei feel as if such news would bring about the end of everything? "So?" Yuy asked. The man's fingers were clenched tight into fists. Yuy must have sensed it, too. The foreboding.
"It reads, '03 probability of survival 34 percent. 02 probability of survival 92 percent. Countdown to 02's self-detonation in 5 hours.'"
Things were very quiet then.
"What," Yuy asked, his voice quiet, "is 'self-detonation'?"
Trowa clacked on the keyboards a bit, then, "'Self-detonation: the act of self-destruction. Suicide most prevalent; suicidal actions also common, though rarer.'"
Wufei clenched his eyes shut. That second part sounded right. Well, it sounded like what he himself would be doing. Still raw from Treize's death, he would demand justice from the world, while all it gave him was chaos and disorder. Mobs? Winner's murder? What else was happening inside the world entrapping Maxwell? He didn't want to imagine. Death. Hate. Desperation. He would be fighting against it all, knowing he wouldn't succeed, knowing that eventually he would break down and fall to sheer numbers or exhaustion. Maxwell would reach such a stage, as well.
"But if you die," Yuy said, breaking the cloying silence that had descended upon them, "then who could we send in?"
Wufei clicked open his phone again. "I'll call Une. She has to be on a nearby colony in that world."
"I can alter the VR to allow me to instantly return once I die," Barton said, pulling everyone's attention back. "Heero, I'll need your help for this." Yuy rushed to Barton's side. "This will at least allow me to speak with him, if only for a few minutes."
"You would also need to be aware that that world is a VR," Wufei said, walking up to them. The monitors were showing updates on Maxwell's prison world. '03 fires on Wilson Barrow. Misses.' 'Barrow's brother arrives.'
"You'll be returned now," Heero said, "once you die. It won't be permanent for you. But we can't do the same for Duo. Dammit."
"And his awareness?" Wufei asked. He felt useless. There was no space before the terminal for a third person, but he couldn't help his partner in any other way. "Sign me up, too. I'll begin my rendezvous with him."
"There's only room for one at a time," Yuy said. "Lisben only had the set-up for two. It's probably why he only hooked Duo up and not Williams or Turry."
"Or because he knew Duo was a pilot," Barton said. "He hated us, didn't he?"
Yuy ground his teeth at that.
"As soon as I'm out, if Une isn't here, we'll plug you in." Yuy nodded to Wufei's phone. "Isn't she answering?"
"No. Busy signal," Wufei said. Barton cursed then, and the sound almost made Wufei jump. "She'll see we called and..." His voice trailed off. "Maxwell!"
Yuy and Barton turned. Maxwell was twitching in his seat, almost spasming. "He's been shot," Barton said. "In the leg. His chances of surviving have dropped to 78 percent." Wufei looked at Duo's legs. He couldn't see anything, of course; there was no blood, no bullet wound. But as Duo's movements stilled again, Wufei knew Duo was feeling it. It was real. If he could get Duo to stand, the man would favor whichever leg had been shot.
"Update," Yuy ordered, and turned back to the terminal.
Wufei looked around as Trowa started listing off the monitor's read-out. "'Peacecraft injured during peace rally.' 'Merquise found injured. Immediate execution.' 'Colony X-15447 destroyed.' '03 attack altered to engage Barrow's brother.' '02 shoulder injury. Chances of survival..."
"What?" Yuy asked.
Barton cleared his throat. "Chances of survival 97 percent."
Yuy tilted his head. Wufei frowned. "It's higher than it had been at the beginning."
"Because I would take the hit for him," Barton said. "It's where my mind would be. Not wanting to live without Quatre, not wanting to lose someone else. I would give my life."
"Then we're running out of time," Yuy said, his fingers pounding on the keys. "I've almost finished hacking through the VR interface. Barton, go lie down. Wufei, come read the set-up specs. As soon as I've finished this, I want him hooked in."
Wufei nodded.
They worked like mad for the next few minutes, Yuy picking apart the programming, Wufei sticking needle after needle into Barton's flesh, walking back and forth between the terminal and Barton's prone form. Maxwell never moved again, never twitched. They worked silently, only breaking the quiet with interspersed reports of, "05 completed colony purge in lower L5 cluster" and "Peacecraft attacked en route to hospital. Chances of survival 15 percent." They worked feverishly, almost missing Une's return phone call. Wufei cursed under his breath as he listened to the woman, his movements paused as he focused on his commanding officer. He ended the call and considered throwing the phone across the room.
"What is it?" Yuy asked. The man's gaze never strayed from the monitors before him.
"Une had to leave. An emergency broadcast. One of Lisben's neighbors made a stink about the Preventor presence here. She's holding a press conference in five."
Yuy cursed much more loudly than Wufei had. "Then it's up to us."
Of course it was. Wasn't it always?
If anything, they rushed to finish even faster. Wufei had to slow down once the last wires were to be put in place. While the others merely needed to be hooked up to the muscles and nerves, these needed to be placed against the skull in precise positions to align with certain parts of the brain. Once the program was begun, Barton would be jolted into the virtual reality. Wufei tried to slide them in as painlessly as possible. At least they'd all been trained from childhood to endure pain; Barton hardly flinched.
Finally the last needle clinked against the cranium and Wufei was finished. Barton opened his eyes, having closed them during the last part of the operation. "How do you feel?" Wufei asked. Barton rolled his eyes.
"Like a science experiment."
Wufei felt a grin tickle the edges of his lips. Barton seemed to be taking a page out of Maxwell's book, making foolish jokes like that at such a stage. "Yuy?"
"Last piece," Yuy gritted, those cobalt eyes flickering from one monitor to the other. "Shit," he said then. "Shit. Trowa. You've been shot."
Barton stiffened. "What does it say exactly?"
"'03 shot in chest by Barrow. Chances of survival 3 percent. 02 shoots Barrow through heart. Chances of survival 0.7 percent. 02 shoots Barrow's brother. Chances of survival 16 percent."
"We're running out of time." Barton was tensing and untensing on the cold metal beneath him, trying to keep himself from reacting. "We need to hurry."
"I almost have it," Yuy snarled. He looked as if he wished to destroy the offending computer systems, but finally that maniacal grin slid across his face. "Got it. Are you ready, Trowa?"
Trowa tilted his head back and relaxed his muscles. "Ready."
"I'm sending you in."
Duo worked feverishly on Trowa's wound, one hand staunching the flow while the other worked to tear off his shirt to donate to the cause. "Don't do this to me," he said, his voice choking. He only stopped his hands from shaking through sheer force of will. "Don't do this. Don't die. Not because of me. Not..." He had to take a breath. Then another. He'd failed to take down that man, that goatee'd bastard, all because the man had said it was a good thing that the Wing Zero pilot had gone down with the Libra and he'd frozen. He'd gotten so angry, so enraged, that he'd felt the desire to stick his gun into the man's mouth and blow his brains out of the back of his head. Duo had never wanted to revel in someone's death before. And because of that, he'd hesitated.
He felt tears welling in his eyes. He should have killed the man, anyway. Should have taken the plunge and become a true god of death, one who watched a man's eyes darken with glee instead of remorse. One who killed the man who'd killed his best friend without care. One who didn't have another friend die to save him.
He clenched his eyes shut and shook his head furiously. No. He wouldn't cry. He had to be able to see what he was doing. He had to... but he already knew it was too late. It had been too late the moment he'd hesitated.
"Duo."
He jumped. Trowa's eyes were open, tiny emerald slits that shone upon him. He flinched. "Trowa. Hold on." It was useless, though. Trowa could hold on all he liked; it would only prolong his suffering. Those damn tears were back again.
"Duo, listen to me."
Oh, God. The tears were harder to hold back now. He was going to get a final speech. He bit his lip to keep it from trembling like a little girl's. "I'm listening, Trowa." He tried to staunch the blood further, to give Trowa a little more time. Trowa winced at the added pressure, but nodded.
"This is going to sound unbelievable, but I need you to believe in me."
Duo furrowed his brows. "All... right?"
Trowa winced. Blood dribbled from his lips. He held his breath, turned his head to the side, and hacked until the blood pooled under his head. His face and hair was stained red when he turned back to Duo. Duo could hardly see the man through his tears. "This is a virtual reality world."
Duo blinked.
"A man named Gary Lisben locked you into his VR machine. Do you remember him?" Duo just blinked again. His brain had flatlined. Trowa grinned. His lips were crimson. "You need to live for us, okay?" Trowa tried to reach for him, but his movements hurried the blood flow and he stopped. "Just for another thirty-six hours. Can you do that for me? For us?" Trowa searched Duo's numb gaze. "For Heero?"
Duo jerked back like he'd been shot. Heero? He opened his mouth. Closed it. Tried again. "Trowa. Do you know what you're saying?"
He nodded, the slightest movement of his head. "Heero's alive, Duo. He destroyed the Libra. He walked off on us for two months before you finally found him. You two and Wufei all joined the Preventors. Do you... remember?" He had to turn his head and cough up more blood. Duo thought he could almost feel Trowa's heartbeats beneath his fingers, spraying more blood with each beat of its drum.
Duo gasped in a breath. Maybe it wasn't Trowa's heartbeat straining so hard to beat. Maybe it was his own. "You..." He'd heard of hallucinations before death, usually as one drowned or was strangled. Was that what Trowa had done? Was doing? Duo couldn't hold it against him. In his place, Duo was sure he would be doing the same thing. "What about Quatre?"
Trowa's eyes narrowed. "He's alive. I have to drag him away from his paperwork." His words were in patches now, breathy patches. Duo wished his friend respite. He took Trowa's hand. Trowa had earned a place in that illusion of his, and in any beautiful afterlife there should be. Duo wanted to believe Trowa and Quatre would meet up in some utopian land, but all he could envision for them was darkness. A blank world full of nothing. "Promise me," Trowa said suddenly, his fingers twitching in Duo's, trying to grab on. "Promise me you will live until the thirty-six hours are over. Promise."
Duo's heart hammered in his chest. Did Trowa know Duo would want to run from this? That he'd already planned to hide in Deathscythe and destroy anything or anyone that stood in his path to isolation? Maybe Trowa had felt the desire to do so himself. Duo's lips trembled. He could see the light dimming from Trowa's eyes, could feel the blood slowing as the heart struggled to beat. Suddenly he felt time's approach, and he said, "yes. I promise. I promise you, Trowa. I'll live for you. Okay? If that's what you want, I'll live." Damn Solo's words. Boys cried, too.
Trowa's lips moved, trembling feverishly under the strain. "Just," Duo could make out, "thirty... six..."
Duo nodded. Thirty-six hours. That was doable. Right? Only thirty-six hours. A delay of the inevitable. He could promise his friend that. He spoke then, trying to soothe Trowa on his path into that darkness, and found himself repeating words he'd never thought to say. "The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters." Duo watched his tears splatter against the glass tile beside Trowa's head. Blood was everywhere. Everywhere. It stank up the room. "He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake." He still clutched Trowa's hand, and he found that he couldn't let go. He leaned his head down and wept. His voice, when he continued, was hardly intelligible. "And yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil: for thou art with me. Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me."
All alone. While he'd always walked through fire and brimstone before, now he was all alone. He could smell the stench of blood, the stench of death, and he shook from the memories of it. "Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies. Thou anointest my head with oil. My cup runneth over." He could hardly speak now. Still, he looked up, and finally he closed Trowa's eyes, knowing they would simply pop back open once rigor mortis set in. He was the only one to move in the stupid comm tower. Both of those men were dead. Trowa was dead. Once again, Duo stood before Shinigami and walked away. Again, he was left the only one alive.
"Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever."
Duo watched Trowa's still face for a moment more, then stood. His right leg buckled beneath him, the bullet within still deep inside the muscle. He clutched his left shoulder as he limped away. He had to hole himself up somewhere. Just for thirty-six hours. Thirty-six more hours, as the world around him simply fell apart. Three of the strongest, most just people in the world – his friends – were gone in only twelve. He padded down the emergency stairs, his eyes focused on nothing. Thirty-six more hours, and there might just be no more humans left in existence.