Four years had passed without any sight of him. They had searched for him, between missions and assignments. It was strange: his absence had done now what his presence had done in the war. He'd kept them together.
Except for the part where he was missing…
Heero didn't like it. He missed the braided baka. Missed him every minute of every day, accompanied by an intense hollow feeling ripping his heart into little pieces. Quatre had taken to giving him hugs - hugs of all things! What was worse, Heero let him. He'd stand there, stiff as a wooden board, blinking against the strangest feeling that moistened his eyes.
So they searched. On and on.
But never found him.
Heero had tried quitting Preventers any number of times. He needed the time and focus to find that runaway fool. Une had never let him. Stern words and a few subtle threats kept him in her employ, kept him in the clinging hands of Miss Relena Peacecraft. He took all his leave-days and spend every holiday looking, searching.
He never had enough time. Didn't have the right resources.
All though all the four former pilots wanted to find their fifth, somehow they never managed to arrange any down time together. There was always a critical mission here or an emergency there that ensured the four were never alone together for more then an evening. They tried combing the planet and the colonies. They were too spread out. It took them too long between searches to come to any firm conclusions on his whereabouts.
Heero had almost become desperate. He reminded himself, whenever that feeling arose, that Duo was a survivor.
It irked him that they'd yet to find any sign of him. By now, he would have settled for just the tiniest bit of proof that he was alive.
He almost wished he didn't have that now though.
They'd gotten their proof he was alive… A whole file handed to them by Une.
Only to be ordered to kill him.
Une was certain that Maxwell was not hiding on the L2 Cluster. She'd had it searched extensively, several times. Regardless of her opinion, that is where the Gundam Pilots started their search. He was here. All four of them knew it. Had known it subconsciously all these years. Une and her agents might not have found him, but that didn't mean he wasn't right here. This place wasn't just his safe haven. It was here he had learned to run and hide and became Shinigami. This place was entirely his. His Kingdom. Fitting for a Death God to have the poorest, most crime-filled and disease-ridding colony for a home. Of course Une had been unable to find him. As if second rate Preventers could find a Gundam Pilot on his home-turf. L2 was his backyard, even if it was completely fucked up.
They could finally do whatever they wanted, however they wanted, in order to find him. It didn't lift their spirits any. As if live ammo and execution orders could. Regardless, they would find him.
Quatre was the one that drove them on. He was the one to convince Wufei that no, he could not decline this mission, bomb Preventers HQ, drug Duo and force him into hiding with them where they'd spank his ass for making them worry like this and chain him down to prevent him from leaving again if they had to. He was the one to gently take Heero's gun away from him when his hand was shaking so badly that his aim 'accidentally' landed on the pink monster named Relena again and again - 't was her own fault for badmouthing Duo. And he was the one who distracted Trowa from his pensive gazing at the file Une had given to them, after hiding it for years when they had been so desperate for any news. If that distraction came in the form of heavy petting and kissing, which reminded Quatre that there was still something worth living for in this world after Duo turned traitor... well, no-one blamed him.
The first thing they did on L2 was ditch their uniforms. They could hardly blend in with them.
Duo walked along an empty alley, keeping close to the wall. He was tastefully dressed in black pants, a white top and a long grey overcoat. His braid was longer than ever, gently swishing behind him. He went barefoot, being careful where he stepped.
"Target sighted." The piece in his ear announced in a silent solemn voice. Heero grunted, abruptly hurrying to Trowa's position. The others did as well.
A tiny red dot landed on his head amidst the brown masses of hair. If the light fell just right, it vanished from sight, becoming part of the reflected colourful shine of the chestnut braid. He wore it dangerously loose. A single tug would unravel the whole thing.
In wartime that would have cost him his life.
"Proceeding to eliminate."