The Burning
by Nix Winter
Disclaimer: I don't own GW. Tsk.
Notes: Sunhawk has been on my mind. This little story is not fic of her fic, but her stories have been flowing around in my mind lately and probably colored this one a little.
Warnings: War setting, death caused by the pilots.. as in people die, not the pilots, of course.
The real problem with weapons is that people like to use them. Duo crouched down, shoulder pressed to the steel wall, soaking in the subtle vibrations that secreted him information about the station. Dressed in black, his braid tucked down his coat, hat brim pulled down over his pale face, he shifted a little, bare finger tips reaching to the floor, waiting for the vibrations that would tell him Heero's part had started. Dark smudges under his eyes, over the curves of his cheeks. Tonight he was the god of death. Duo Maxwell was sitting somewhere back in the village, laughing with the little children, telling stories in broken Spanish.
It was those children, little half toothless, smiling faces that he carried with him, keeping his smiling self company deep within himself. Violet eyes watched the dark around him coldly.
Trowa had done the infiltration of the base, retrieved the maps and proof of activities. At sixteen Duo Maxwell was judge and executioner. He'd knew war and famine. He knew plenty and hat it was like when people smiled too. He knew his preference.
It had been eight-three seconds since he'd gotten to this spot. The plan required their targets to think there was only one intruder. Duo had already set the majority of charges. Heero was setting the ones in the data center, because he wanted to get the data collected safely.
Duo shifted again, one hand, reaching silently to feel the pistol strapped to his ankle. Heero's eyes were blue like he was part sky, made of the god of air and life, the deep rooted spirit of fertility that L2 street rats poured out precious water to.
Vibrations started deep in the metal and Duo took a slow breath. He was in a small blind spot, predatory glee in his broken little orphan heart. Alarms screamed in the mecha bay just a few hundred feet farther down the corridor. The pilots, would be running towards the mecha bay to go out and combat the incoming mecha that their systems were telling them were on their way.
It was always good to really understand the truth of threats, to be careful.
Silently, Duo shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, hands going around black ceramic pistols where they were at his ankles. Violet slits were the mark of hell bubbling up towards the surface. The last of the pilots, a girl with brown hair that barely managed to stay tucked into her flight suit. He watched her pass, her face, determined, young, maybe a little older than him, maybe not too much. He rose, arm moving. Her dreams, whatever they were, exploded.
Duo stepped into corridor, both guns up. Pop, silenced by custom built guns, pop, pop, pop, drop like liquid splattering plague. Like popcorn, dreams exploded. There was little point in doing something half way. Twenty pilots, down without the slightest bit of burning wreckage.
Like running a tire gauntlet, Duo raced the corridor, pistols down, until he came out into the glaring warning lights in the mecha bay. Body firm, a living gundam viper, he scanned for targets. A mechanic dropped a spanner, eyes wide and terrified.
Duo mouthed 'run'.
Blood and metal have a very complimentary scent, add in a little spent gunpowder, and it was familiar. Six hundred seconds and they would be clear, the base destroyed, and evidence of gross incompetence on the part of several parts providers. Nothing like recycling and ruining the reputation of weapons dealers. His communication connection had reconnected though. Heero had control of that, as he was mission leader. Heero was mission leader always, and Duo liked it that way. If there had to be a leader, it ought to be Heero, as he'd go where Heero went anyway.
Heero was twenty seconds late though. One of his pistols holstered, Duo scanned through the mechanic's abandoned tool rack, pocked a screwdriver and small spanner, stealing them almost compulsively because Heero was late. Theft of life was the only sure thing.
"Ax," Heero's voice said his ear, the code name coming from a shortening of Maxwell. "Terminate the mission."
Duo's eyes narrowed to glowing violet black holes. He pocketed a wedding ring that had been left in the tray. It wasn't like it would survive the coming cataclysm. "Location?"
"Not relevant," Heero said, and anyone other than Duo might not have picked up on the emotion in Heero's voice.
Duo's mind though ran the mission through his mind, tracking Heero's movements in the mission, second by second, with the most likely places for difficulty. The most likely place for difficulties would have been when he'd passed the canteen. The canteen should have been the least likely place to have trouble. Heero was the perfect soldier. Duo ran.
There had been a little girl. She appeared in Heero's dreams. Heero pulled the alarm in the canteen.
Duo ran faster.
The first of the mechas exploded to his right, flashing heat and metal shards into the air, into the other mechas, triggering other explosions. It was perfect.
Growling Duo skidded into the corridor where he expected to find Heero. Blast anger roiled forward, just barely leaving him untouched, coloring him in raging reds and blacks. Both pistols out again, he skidded, keeping his balance as he sailed right past the opening of the canteen. The plan was gone. Everything was chaotic.
Duo spun as he skidded, his braid working free and glitter on the floor caught his eye and his mind tallied up blood on the floor, turning brittle and black where the fire had just ripped over it, and the fire in the canteen. Heero had certainly been this far. A good ten seconds passed as Duo scanned the blood, the fire, the rising temperatures, listened for Heero.
Nothing more than a hunch moved him again, sending splashing boot prints through the dark fluid and back into the canteen. Heero was on the floor, a officer below him, on the receiving end of an efficient punch to the face. The rest of the mobiles had left the area, except, for one white clad, shaking man coming forward from the kitchen area, pistol held in both hands, pointing it at Heero. Duo had both pistols up, one at the man below Heero, the other at the cook. Eyes locked between Duo and the cook. 'Down,' Duo mouthed.
Heero punched again, but the two rolled the officer getting above him and pulling Heero up so fast that Duo couldn't get off a shot. The entire floor shifted spilling Duo towards a table. The officer hit the table and sprawled over, graceless and surprised, as if he were more known to paper than fists, and it made Duo happy. The cook went down under a clatter of pans and whatever kitchens had in them. A fifteen year old battle mode Duo didn't really give a god damn.
What he did care about that Heero had fallen again too and the wall was coming down on him, fiery wooden rack of books falling towards Heero. Duo in battle mode was like a calculator, but running on some alien script and value system. Pistols going back into his ankle holsters, time moving slow, and Duo caught the burning wood in both hands and shoved. Teeth gritted, he kicked at the burning dead tree carcass. He'd never liked wood. It made for poor metal though and it burned.
"Shit! 'Ro! We got to go! What are you doing?" Duo dropped to one knee, both hands held out before him. "'Ro, I think I fucked up."
Heero was already rolling up, his own face battered, but he grabbed one of the pistols from Duo's ankle holster and fired, taking down one more enemy. "Baka," Heero growled in Japanese, his eyes looking at Duo's hands.
Maybe something else fell on them. Duo wasn't sure. Heero's hands were pulling him close, holding him, giving him family and connection, love and Duo let go, let Heero hold him and take him anywhere he wanted.
"You can wake up." Heero said it kindly.
"Uh," Duo said, shifting in what felt like clean sheets on bare skin, "Do I want to?"
"Your hands will be fine. I have given you a painkiller that should prevent discomfort."
"Heero?"
Duo shifted, opening his eyes, to find Heero sitting next to him, wearing a clean, but worn green shirt. There was a softening to his stance though, and his fingers slowed as he typed on his keyboard. Blue eyes smiled, his mouth smiled. "Whatever might have been, however the world might have gone, we are family now. I will take care of you."
"Um," Duo said, shifting over onto his shoulder. "I get to take care of you too."
"Mission accepted."