College is never easy, but when you take a class fieldtrip and get exposed to a deadly toxin that changes your entire genetic structure, things are about to get a lot tougher.
Warnings: AU, Angst, romance, humor, language, violence, character death, original characters, drug use – and abuse.
Pairings: Again, classic serial style, things are going to change up A LOT. Het, Yaoi, Yuri. It's all here. However, things will work in a general direction: I've got the ultimate pairings in mind already (including a threesome), but we'll have a lot of detours before we get there.
As a side note: reviews are, seriously, really appreciated. Tell me I suck, I can take it, I promise.
1.1: One Week Later
Heero Yuy scowled at the empty classroom and looked at his watch again. The class was scheduled to start in five minutes – and the fact that the professor, and the other students, had yet to
make an appearance irritated him. Already this morning his other class, Globalization and the Market, had been a disappointment. The syllabus, the professor, and the other students all left much to be desired. It looked like the class would be less challenging than even Heero had feared. That was, he supposed, actually a good thing. His father had been pressuring him lately to take on more work – and if he didn't need to concentrate too much on schoolwork, then he would be able to appease him.
Heero couldn't help but smirk to himself at that thought. After graduation Heero would go into the family business – not unusual for some students – of 'personal acquisitions and liquidations', his father's colloquial terminology for contractual assassinations and abductions. Heero, who was the darling of both the business and international relations departments, idly wondered what his professors would say if they knew he had no intention of going to graduate school in either field of study.
When Heero had turned eighteen his father had given him the choice of going straight to work, or working part time and going to college. Heero had instantly taken the chance to go to college: not because he wanted to put off full-time work, or because he thought he would get much out of the experience. The only reason he wanted to go to college was to get out from under his father's thumb. Of course, his choices of schools had been limited: UCLA or UNLV: the two cities that Odin Lowe Yuy did most of his work from. Heero had grown up in Las Vegas, and knew the city well. The fact that Odin now resided full-time in Los Angeles had made the decision an easy one. He had probably been the only freshman genuinely excited about moving into his dorm-room and getting the chance to eat at the caf.
Now, going into his junior year, Heero was constantly reminded of the fact that in less than two years he would work for his father full-time, instead of doing part-time casework: ten or so assassinations a year, when Heero was on break from school.
Which made it all the more frustrating when his classes didn't go as we he wanted them to. The class he was currently waiting for – International Community – was the one he had been dreading since registration last semester. The university required a 'humanities' course to be taken every year, each focusing on a different aspect. Freshman year it had been ancient history and literature, sophomore year it had been world religion and philosophy. This year Heero would be studying the growing 'international community.' The entire idea behind the classes was to expose students to a different perspective on the world: since every junior was required to take the class, it was split into three sections each semester, each of around three hundred students. These sections met once a week for a lecture. Those sections were further divided into 'groups', randomly chosen by the administration, of ten students and one professor. These groups met twice a week to discuss the lecture and their own class projects. It was designed to give students a one-on-one experience, since most classes at UNLV were made up of at least thirty students.
"Excuse me, do you know if this is the classroom that Group 13 is meeting in?"
Heero looked up at the sudden interruption to his thoughts. A young, slight blonde man stood in the door, palm pilot in hand, leather satchel over one shoulder. He was dressed as though he was going on a business interview: light khakis, blue button-down shirt, and dark loafers. Heero arched an eyebrow at the ensemble, but nodded to the blonde.
He smiled, his face transforming from generic good-looks to stunning with the simple gesture.
"Great. I've been so lost." He sat down beside Heero and started to unpack his bag. "My classes this morning have been a complete disaster, and the last one is all the way across campus – I thought I would be late to this one." He finally stopped for air and held out a hand to Heero. "I'm Quatre Winner."
"Heero Yuy." They shook hands briefly and Quatre smiled again, though there was a hint of mischief behind his eyes this time.
"I can't tell you how much I'm NOT looking forward to this class." Quatre shuddered. "After World Religion last year I was almost ready to transfer – these classes are a good idea, in theory –"
"But in practice they are a complete failure," Heero found himself saying.
Quatre nodded emphatically.
"Exactly. Still – maybe this year will be different?" The blonde shrugged and picked up his palm pilot again and started rapidly tapping the screen with the stylus.
Heero mentally rolled his eyes – people who thought their time was that valuable always annoyed him. Still, he found himself responding to Quatre's charming nature, and found it difficult to muster up his usual irritation at the sound of the stylus hitting the face of the pilot.
"Huh. Guess I'm not too late after all."
Heero and Quatre both looked up at the new arrival.
Skateboard in one hand, sticker covered nalgene in the other, the man who stood in the doorway was the epitome of a west-coast skater in Heero's mind. His lanky body was attired in ripped jeans, and he wore a faded gray t-shirt that had a 'hello, my name is wade' patch on the front. His hair, a rich brown with golden highlights, was pulled back in a braid that fell just below his shoulders.
The newcomer grinned at them and took a seat that back of the class without another word. Quatre went back to his palm pilot and Heero returned to his brooding.
"Sorry I'm running late." It was their professor, Zechs Merquise, a brilliant young organic chemist who had just completed his doctoral work at Stanford. He had been Heero's first choice for this group, and after researching the professor, Heero had hacked into the administrative system and reassigned himself to the group. The professor was young – only a few years older than Heero – and attractive. His blonde hair was long and loose, and the khaki shorts he wore showcased his physique and youth as much as the fitted t-shirt he wore did.
Heero caught himself staring at the tanned and slightly muscular forearms of his professor and jerked his gaze away.
"I guess I'm not the only one running late. We'll give the others a few minutes before we start." Merquise smiled at them and sat on the desk at the front of the room, completely at ease.
It was another ten minutes before the rest of the students had assembled and Merquise stood up again.
"Great, we're all here. Well, I'm guessing that all of you have somehow survived your freshmen and sophomore humanities classes – my congratulations and apologies." Several of the students laughed at the joke, and even Heero smirked in appreciation of Merquise's wry sense of humor. "In any case, I promise to do my best to make this group as painless as possible. Actually, it's my goal that you actually learn something – so let's start by getting to know each other." He held up a hand to forestall complaints. "And I realize that you're sick of this, but, I am new here, and since there's only eleven of us, I'd like to remember each of you. So, to start off, I'm Zechs. I just graduated from Stanford and I'm here teaching Organic Chemistry. Most of my research is in desert ecology. If you look at global trends you will see that desertification – the process of deforestation and erosion that creates more desert – is increasing at an alarming pace. My goal is to figure out how we can adapt our farming practices to reduce that, and also to live with the consequences."
Heero had already known that – it was one of the reasons he had chosen Merquise – and as he looked around the room he saw that the other students were similarly impressed.
"So, why don't you start. Give us your name, your major – anything cool." Merquise gestured to a blonde girl in the front row. She turned halfway in her seat to face the class.
"I'm Relena Peacecraft, journalism major. I'm also the senior editor for the Rebel Yell. I suppose my main interests in journalism are covering politics – after all, they shape our lives." She smiled at them all and then turned to the student nearest her.
"Trowa Barton," said the lithe man whom Heero vaguely recognized. "I'm a BFA art major, and I play golf here."
Relena reached out and hit him on the arm playfully.
"Trowa, don't be so modest. He doesn't just play golf here – he recently won the futures tournament in San Diego!"
Trowa sent her a glare and shrugged, as though the tournament meant nothing. Heero wondered if he had seen Trowa playing golf before – he doubted they had shared any classes.
"Wufei Chang," the next student began before Relena could offer any more accolades. "Philosphy and pre-law. I also founded the student charity organization BENEFIT, which funds ALCU clients."
"Hilde Shciebecker, environmental studies – so I'm really interested in your work, Professor Merquise."
"Call me Zechs."
"Er, Zechs. Which is why I'm going to beg that you let me transfer my work-study over to being your assistant." She waggled her eyebrows and Zechs chuckled.
"I'll see what I can do, Hilde."
"Catherine Bloom, I'm a dance major. And no, I don't work at a strip club to pay for my tuition." She turned in her seat to glare at the back of the room.
"It was a joke! Jesus Christ Cathy! And it was two years ago!" The braided man protested loudly.
Catherine gave an annoyed sigh and turned back to the front of the class.
"I'm Quatre Winner and I'm in hotel management and also business. And…"
"And you're the heir to the Winner Congolmerate!" Relena jumped in for him. Quatre instantly flushed red.
"Yeah. And that."
Heero decided that, at all costs, he would avoid Relena. Already she had proven to be immensely annoying.
"Heero Yuy, business and international relations."
The class waited for him to add more, but after a moment of awkward silence it became obvious that he wasn't going to add anything.
"Right. Anyway, I'm Dorothy Catalonia, architecture student – and I just finished an internship with Green Builders in New York, so, obviously, I'm interested in an environmental perspective."
"Meilin Lee, sports medicine. I'm also on the swim team and I work at the gym, so when you guys need help with your workouts, come talk to me. Not you, Trowa, or your Professor Merquise. It's obvious you two are in great shape." There was a smirk on the Chinese girls' face that went with her teasing voice.
"And last we have…"
"Duo Maxwell, entertainment and engineering major. I also work at Metro, so if you guys ever need a pizza – you know where to go."
Merquise nodded.
"Okay, well, now that we've gotten that out of the way, let me talk to you about the class: we meet on Mondays as a section in the lecture hall, and then Tuesdays and Thursdays we meet here. Monday's lecture will be discussed on Tuesday, and on Thursday we will discuss our readings and class projects. So, for your projects, you have an individual, five thousand word paper due at the end of the semester. You also have two projects: one with a partner, one with a group of five. The five person project will take all semester, but the two person project is due at the midterm. Your syllabus, which I'm passing out now, will have more details on that. Throughout the semester we'll be going on fieldtrips around the city – and our first one will be on Thursday. We're going to have class at the Atomic Museum, over on Flamingo. You won't need to bring anything – it's not worth taking notes, this is a fieldtrip that our entire section is going on, one group at a time, over the course of the semester. We're the first that get to go." Merquise shrugged. "We won't even discuss it until the end of the semester, and by then I'm sure you'll all have forgotten it – so don't sweat it. "
Merquise flipped through a notebook, looking for something else to talk about, then he shrugged.
"So, I'm new in town. Anyone know a good place to grab a burger?"
His question resulted in a half hour debate on the merits of Las Vegas cuisine, which Heero half-listened to. Beside him, Quatre was engrossed with his palm pilot and Heero had to fight off his curiosity to see what the blonde man was looking at.
When the class ended Merquise reminded them to meet at the Atomic Museum and suggested they bring topics for their two-person projects.
As Heero left the classroom Duo Maxwell jumped ahead of him to talk to Merquise.
"Yo, Teach, I heard from Dr. G that you did some research on organic solar harvesting, right?"
"Yes, I did. Though not much. Actually, G told me about your project – the SUNflowers? It sounds very interesting."
"Yeah, if I ever get it to work. Anyway, it'd be cool if you had time to look over my research?"
"Sure. Bring your notes on Thursday."
Heero quickly revised his mental opinion of the skate-boarder. It seemed that he was at least somewhat intelligent , after all.
"Sure thing." Duo put down his skateboard and took off down the hallway, forcing students to leap out of the way to avoid being run over.
Heero shook his head in disgust. Or maybe not.
Thursday was Duo's self-coined 'hell day.'
He had four classes that day – starting at eight in the morning and not leaving campus until five-thirty, at which point he raced over to Metro Pizza to start his six to midnight shift. It wasn't his favorite day, and by noon he was already on his third cup of coffee.
He was in line at Starbucks, waiting for his forth, when he suddenly remembered the fieldtrip scheduled for today's class.
"Shit!" He exclaimed as he ducked out of line, earning glares from the other patrons, who clutched their coffees close as he brushed past them.
As soon as he stepped outside the café he threw down his skateboard and took off – the museum was a mile from campus, and with luck Duo would be able to navigate the streets well enough to get there only a few minutes late.
He arrived out of breath and slightly sweaty, which he was sure would earn him points with no one. As he stepped inside the ice-cold, air-conditioned museum he was greeted with the impatient glares of his class-mates.
"Wow. You guys didn't have to wait for me."
Merquise made a humming noise in his throat.
"Actually, we did, they're screening a new film today, and they are only showing it once…"
"Oh. Sorry." Duo self-consciously scratched the back of his neck, thoroughly embarrassed.
"Are we finally all here?" A tall woman wearing glasses and a Princess Leia hairstyle stepped forward and glared at Duo.
"Yes, Ms. Une, we're all here."
"Good, then come this way to the theatre. After the film you may take a tour of the museum at your leisure." Une turned sharply and entered the closed door s at the end of the hall. Duo fell in step behind the rest of his classmates, glad that he couldn't see their glares at the back of the line. Merquise walked beside him.
"I'm really sorry about being late," Duo started to apologize.
Merquise held up a hand.
"It's fine. I remember what's it's like to balance classes. I'm relieved that you made it – another ten minutes and we were going to go ahead without you."
"Well, thanks for waiting."
Merquise nodded.
"Just try not to be late next time?"
"Sure, no sweat."
The ' movie theatre' turned out to be a bunker-like structure with wooden benches and warning lights flashing. Duo sat on the back row, between Merquise and Hilde, and prepared himself to try to stay awake as the lights went dark.
The film was short and violent – it started off with views of wildlife and a suburban community. And then a countdown began. When the countdown reached zero the room was flooded with light and noise. Seconds later a mushroom cloud appeared on the screen and Duo felt a rush of hot air in hit him in the face, burning his nose.
And that was it. A moment later the lights came back up and Une walked in again.
"Well, what did you think of our film? Quite realistic, don't you think?"
"Are we gonna wake up with radiation sickness tomorrow?" Duo joked. Une shot him a quelling look.
"The special effects were very interesting," Relena spoke up from the front, her sarcasm carefully hidden under her voice.
"The air was kind of hot," Hilde complained and rubbed at her nose, obviously it had irritated her as well.
"It's a bit insensitive," Wufei added from the front, " after all – you portrayed a test site event. You're simply adding on to the American mythology that nuclear weapons can't hurt US. You should have shown one of the Japanese bombings – maybe added some corpses to the audience? Or selective seating that roasted the patrons," Wufei turned and pointed at Duo's seat, " for instance, placing one over Maxwell's seat would be perfect for maximum effect as everyone stood to leave."
Duo and Une turned matching glares on Wufei.
Beside Duo, Hilde nodded. "I have to agree – not with the killing Duo – but it definitely could be more realistic."
Une was tightlipped when she nodded and gestured for them to exit.
"Tough crowd," Merquise muttered and walked over to Une, presumably to apologize for his student's rude behavior.
Hilde nudged Duo and pointed to an exhibit that featured a miniature train set hauling nuclear warheads.
"Creepy, huh?"
"Pretty much. This whole place is weird. I came here in high school – but it didn't have the lame movie, back then."
Hilde nodded. "Yeah, I can't believe we had to wait for you just to see that crap."
"Sorry about that. Man, I wish I'd been another five minutes later and missed the damn thing."
"Have any ideas for your project yet? Merquise was telling me that he's going to assign us partners based on topics."
"Sounds like a good idea. I really want to look at the financial side of implementing solar energy – you know, look at the different power infrastructures in a few countries and come up with a proposal for a switch to conventional solar energy."
Duo could tell that, before he had said ten words, he had lost Hilde's interest. He grinned. "What about you? Want to research the benefits of marijuana again?"
She glared at the old joke. Freshman year they had lived in the same dorm, across the hall from each other, and her roommate had been caught smoking pot. Hilde, of course, had tried to come to the rescue and claimed that they were researching the medicinal benefits of marijuana when used to treat menstrual cramps. Her excuse had creeped out campus security, but it hadn't saved her roommate from getting thrown out of the dorms. It had been a running joke with Duo and Hilde sense then.
Duo and Hilde trudged through the museum, half paying attention to the exhibits, for another twenty minutes before Merquise rounded them up and walked them to the lobby.
"Okay, while we're all here, go ahead and turn in your project proposals. I'll have you paired off for Tuesday. Also, for Monday's lecture read the Ghandi essays. And enjoy your weekends."
The students turned in their proposals and then started to filter out of the museum. Duo was one of the last to leave and as he stepped outside it started to rain.
"You have got to be kidding me," he muttered, glaring up at the sky. "It's freakin' August! There's no rain in August!"
Merquise stepped outside a few minutes later and found a soaked and furious Duo.
"Need a ride?" He asked, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice.
Duo turned to glare at him.
"A ride? Why would I want a ride when the weather is so perfect?" Duo remained sullen for a few more seconds and then sighed. "Yeah, a ride would be great. I need to get to work – would you mind dropping me off at Metro Pizza?"
Merquise nodded and led the way to his car.
"Nice wheels," Duo commented as he slid into the passenger seat of the obviously well-used Toyota Corolla. "I thought they paid you the big bucks to come out and teach here."
"I had to pay off my gambling debts, so I sold the Ferrari," Merquise explained.
Duo laughed and leaned his head against the headrest as his head started to pound. He rubbed at his head, confused at the sudden migraine-intensity headache.
"Huh."
"You okay? You look pale."
"And wet," Duo groused, still rubbing his forehead. "I'm fine, my head just started to hurt. Must be the change in weather and air pressure or something."
"Hm. Are you okay to work?"
"It's just a migraine or something. I'll take some asprin. Um – this is it. Thanks for the ride."
"No problem. Take care, Duo."
"Thanks, um, you too."
Somehow, Duo forced himself to turn and go into the side entrance of the restaurant.
"Christ, Max, you look like shit," he was greeted by the chef.
"Thanks, Mark." Duo walked past the kitchen and into the staff bathroom. Once inside he pulled off his wet clothes, frowning at the feel of cold air against his wet skin. He looked in the mirror as he pulled on his black jeans and noticed that his skin seemed to be breaking out into some kind of rash – around his chest the skin was red and purplish. He rubbed at it, disturbed. The area didn't hurt or even itch, so Duo buttoned up his black shirt and tried to fix his hair.
Six tortuous hours later Duo left the restaurant and staggered home.
The headache that had begun earlier in the day had indeed reached migraine levels by nine o-clock, and Duo had spent the last three hours of work cringing at every sound.
It was lucky he only lived three blocks from the restaurant – unlucky that he head to cross a major road to get there. He walked out into traffic, anxious to get home and not caring about the traffic laws, and came within inches of being hit. He ran the rest of the way, the blare of car horns following him.
He somehow managed to open the front door to his apartment but then he collapsed, hitting his head against the door and falling onto the floor.
Trowa slowly, painfully, opened his eyes and looked at his alarm clock.
It was noon and it was Saturday.
Which meant that Trowa had slept for the last thirty six hours.
Shit. He had missed an entire day of classes and stood up his date last night. He groaned and rolled over, trying to remember how he had even made it to his bed before passing out on Thursday night. All he could remember was an intense migraine and a strange rash on his stomach.
Frowning, he walked over to the mirror and pulled off his shirt. He examined his torso but saw absolutely no sign of the strange rash. And aside from his stomach aching from hunger, he felt no ill effects from the migraine at all. It was completely bizarre. Almost as if nothing had happened to him.
Still frowning, Trowa took a shower and then ate a protein bar as he continued to contemplate the mystery. Maybe it had been the sudden rain storm and the change in pressure that had upset his body?
But he had never gotten a rash from rain before. Especially such a violent one – it had looked like a bruise that spread from his navel up to his sternum.
After another ten minutes of fruitless contemplation Trowa headed to the gym, deciding that a few hours of exercise would do him some good.
He waved at Meilin, stationed behind the information desk, and she waved back, looking pale and somewhat sick herself.
Trowa headed to the third for and the weight room reserved for varsity athletes. It was empty, a rare occurrence that Trowa took advantage of by cranking up the stereo in the corner and putting it on the NPR station, something he never could have gotten away with if anyone else had been in the room.
He decided to start out with free weights and reached for the fifteen pound weights. As he lifted them up he frowned. They felt incredibly light – almost as though they were the two pound weights. He put them down and picked up the twenty pound weights instead. But even those felt too light. As did the thirty pound and even the forty-five pound weights.
Trowa wondered if some idiot was trying to pull an elaborate practical joke, but he couldn't think of how this could possibly be funny.
He went to the machines and set up the bar bells to one-fifty, his usual weight. He laid down on the bench and drew in several deep breaths before grabbing the bar and lifting.
Instead of lifting, however, he found himself completely off balance as the bar, feeling as though it had no weights on it at all, flew out of his grasp and imbedded itself in the ceiling.
"What the fuck?" Trowa lay on the bench, staring at the bar and the weights, fascinated.
And then they came crashing down on him.
Trowa expected the impact to hurt and squeezed his eyes closed. Moments passed.
Hesitantly he opened his eyes and was shocked by what he saw.
The bar bell was across his waist, bent in a semicircle, the weights on either in sunken in the mats of the floor.
Trowa pushed the weights off and practically ran from the room. He had no idea what had just happened. It wasn't a practical joke – the damage those weights had done to the ceiling and the floor were obviously not done by something fake – and yet Trowa hadn't felt the impact at all.
Something was seriously wrong.
TBC...
A/N: I know absolutely nothing about the undergrad program at UNLV, so this stuff is totally made up. Aside from that, I'm trying to keep things as based in reality as is possible... fake science and all aside.