Disclaimer: What? Really? People are still confused over this?

Warnings!: This thing is about as M as M can get. I'm testing all the boundaries of my writing abilities, and that means M-rated yaoi scenes. If you don't understand what that means, then leave. Now. There's also underage sex, eventual non-con undertones, more yaoi, language, blood, gore, death, and other nasties. I'll never be able to write war is grotesque and horrifying as it really is, but I'm sure as hell gonna try.

Note: Episode 38 and 39.

Extra Note: I'm going to go crazy if I have to keep writing the scenes from the show, so I'm going to skirt around them a bit. I'll bet you all want to get back to the original plotline of this story, anyway. Therefore, I will inform you that Quatre and Trowa have been reunited, but Catherine the Busybody has gotten betwixt and scared Quatre off. Not to worry, though! Trowa has a slash moment of vaguely remembering Quatre. ^_^ Duo has a small scene where he asks Deathscythe what they should do, and White Fang comes to ask him for recruitment. He declines, telling Hilde that they 'smelled of Oz.' Probably because they are Oz. Anyway, there you go.

Memento Mori

Chapter 11

When All Hell

"Now if I am to survive,
The infection must die"

~ Disturbed, "The Infection"

His head pounded.

He was almost used to it by now, and he just leaned against Deathscythe's cool metal frame until the worst of it passed. He'd lost his goal in the onslaught of information he'd been given. When he'd first gotten the Brainbox, as he now dubbed it, he'd focused on getting it out and getting revenge. At the time, revenge had taken priority, since he was about to lose his link to his enemies. And still, he knew that there was a man he needed to take down that he hadn't yet – the doctor with the sideburns who had placed the metal on his occipital lobe. But the only clue he had was the key to a safety deposit box, granted to him by way of inheritance after he knifed one of the first of his assassins.

Still, he could no longer pretend he could live a normal life. He'd tried, for Hilde's sake, to grab hold of that dream. But in the end, he couldn't. Whether he joined Quatre or not, he couldn't let this go on. He clutched his cross, leaned back further against the railing, and glared at the hangar ceiling. He couldn't let this happen. He was worrying about Heero and quarter and Trowa without thinking about the troubles he himself faced. He was in danger. Every moment of his life, he was in danger, just so long as this horrible device remained in his head. He'd been told to wait for Heero and Sally to contact him before he could get it out, and it was true that he wouldn't trust this kind of work to just anybody.

Fine. He'd let that get in the way of the rest – of finding his enemy, of at least ascertaining their identities. For now, he was missionless. Pathless. He could choose what he did tomorrow. He could try to find a job, try to be normal, but that wasn't really an option. He wasn't for him. How could he possibly be normal now, at this stage? How could he turn his back on the future that was being created right before his eyes? How could he just accept it? That's what he'd done before. Accepted the fact that he was on the streets while people lounged in mansion. Accepted the fact that he struggled to steal rotten vegetables while other people threw away their food, uninterested in leftovers. He'd thought it acceptable. It wasn't. That was why he'd joined G, why he'd endured that hellish training. It wasn't for this.

He didn't intend to roll over and let people step on him. Not ever again.

Maybe... maybe that was why he'd been fighting? But it was too selfish for him to consider. He didn't want that to be his reason. He carefully shoved those thoughts to the side.

Unfortunately, he didn't have a picture of Doctor Sideburns. He sighed and opened Deathscythe's hatch. Searching through the myriads of doctors in the worldwide database would take days, if not weeks, of studied concentration, and even then, there was no guarantee that he would find the man. The safety deposit box, on the other hand, could take months, even though it would yield definite results eventually.

Once he was inside Deathscythe, he felt his nerves calm. He had to keep his emotions stable, his adrenaline plugged, in order to see clearly. He'd learned that much. He read over Deathscythe's specs, though he'd already fixed the thing up. It could use a better back-up energy cycle, and the beam could be upgraded, but it would take parts that were a bit more difficult to get. And the energy fusion would require dealing with Agas, which he wasn't quite ready for.

He logged out of Deathscythe's mainframe and pulled up another link, one he'd saved ever since he'd found it. The Ex-Alliance member, Sally Po. A rebel in a faction supporting the Gundams – all of whom were listed MIA, hilariously. The woman certainly seemed legit. And Duo remembered where he'd heard her voice before. According to the military record he'd pulled up, she'd been in the base he'd rescued Heero from.

He stared at her picture, her frowning face and camo outfit completely different than what he'd met in Heero's apartment. What had made the woman switch sides?

Well, whatever. It didn't change the fact that he had yet to receive a call from either her or Heero. And with Quatre about to go on the warpath against Romefeller and presumably White Fang, as well, Duo needed to be on top of his game.

Which, he thought with a sigh, playing with the end of his braid, meant he'd already made the decision to join the blond. He didn't know if he agreed with the fighting, or with the idea of peace, but he couldn't just let Quatre go off on his own. Maybe Duo couldn't believe in peace after all he'd seen, but he could still believe in Quatre. In the idea of comrades, and the meaning of his name. Duo. To do something together.

He sighed. Maybe he'd just been alone in this too long.

"Duo!"

He sighed. And why was it that he thought of being with Hilde as being alone? The girl was getting smart, after all. She was better at stealth. She could sneak around at night without being seen by civilians. She'd been practicing every night for weeks. With a little more training, she might even be able to slip past soldiers.

"Duo!" she called again, and this time he got up.

"Coming, coming!" And he jumped out of Deathscythe's cockpit, landing with a metallic thud on the platform. "What is it?"

Then he caught her gaze. In an instant, his FN was in his hand. He ducked behind the railing. Her eyes had been wide. Her lips were pulled back in a half-snarl.

"I'm about ready to break this dishwasher, Duo."

Almost, almost he shot her. Then he broke down, sat on the floor, and laughed. "Good God, Hilde, you'd looked like the Romefeller army had camped outside our doorstep."

"That's an idea. Maybe they could save me from this wretched machine." She stomped into the hangar, making the metal beams they stood on shake alarmingly. She hardly seemed to notice, simply gripping the railings tighter. "It just flooded the entire kitchen. All of it. There's water and suds everywhere."

Duo sighed. He'd been fighting the thing for forever. "There wasn't anything wrong with it the last time I ran it. I'll check it out again."

She sighed. Her shoulders untensed, then slumped. "Thanks, Duo."

He stood, brushed off his pants, and put away his gun. "Sure, Hilde." He smiled. This was why he felt alone. Hilde was learning, but she still wasn't there yet. He couldn't lean. He couldn't afford to. She was already leaning on him. He couldn't turn his back to face hers; he had to look in all directions still. She couldn't see all that he could.

It took an hour of banging and pulling and cursing under his breath, but Duo got the dishwasher working again. The thing was old, so old he thought the thing might have been manufactured in A.D. He slammed the wrench on the floor beside him as the dishwasher ran, completely empty, without leaks, spills, or creepy banging noises. He sighed.

What was he doing?

He was no machine repairman. And while he'd been working on this damn thing, he'd had to fight past every malicious chug to hear things from outside. He stood. He would need to check the perimeter, or his shoulders would never start itching.

Damn it. He put the tools away in the toolbox that he'd ended up leaving under the sink for just such emergencies. He was being stupid. This was not what he needed to concentrate on. This was not what he needed to be doing. He had to be moving. Doing. Fighting. He had to find some sort of lead. He could track J, or at least try. Search for discrepancies in police reports and case reports. Something. Anything.

He had to do something, or else the worry would eat at him. If this Sally Po was dead, or if he never heard from her or Heero again – he forced himself to think of the possibility of Heero being dead – then he might be faced with having the Brainbox forever. Either that, or risking his life on a doctor who might sooner turn him in to Romefeller or White Fang. And he didn't know if he could do that.

The grounds were rather simple, dishearteningly so. They were still on Hilde's uncle's junkyard. It was, perhaps, the longest he'd ever stayed anywhere since he'd come to Earth. It was making him antsy – well, that and everything else. A few cars passed their little junkyard haven, where Hilde's junkyard sat, walled in on three sides by other junkyards. Hilde hadn't lied, however. There was a front entrance, a side exit into a neighbor's yard, and an easy getaway up some concrete blocks into the yard behind them. Then there was the sewer entrance, half-buried by scrap metal, a small, hidden entrance leading in. Hilde had prepared that.

The place took a while to clear, since he needed to check beyond the walls, too, but eventually he was satisfied and went back into the junkyard. The place was nothing but a dead lot with a large building in the middle. Scrap metal hid the sewer entrance, but otherwise the place was clean. Most people stored their important parts in the hangar attached to the living quarters. They used their best pieces on Deathscythe, which hid inside the hangar. Duo joked that it was technically the same thing, only they weren't making any money. Hilde didn't seem to find that all that funny.

He entered the house, deliberately going through the front to the hangar, passing the living room/kitchen split and checking the small crevice hiding their rooms and the bathroom. As soon as he entered the hangar, though, he relaxed. Just seeing Deathscythe before him always did that. Here was the power to protect, to choose without fear of reprisal. With Deathscythe, he could move forward in life without hesitation. Not that he'd let himself hesitate before – he just didn't have to fear the consequences quite so much.

Maybe.

In any case, being with Deathscythe felt good, and he touched the cool metal as he checked the area. Clean. Hilde was in the corner of the hangar, checking through the small amount of unused metal, frowning. "We'll only get a few hundred from this piece," she said, shaking the warped piece of hard drive from a wrecked Leo.

"True," Duo said, checking the pile himself for bugs or bombs.

"Then why did you write that we'd get over ten thousand for it?" she said, turning that scowl of hers on him. Idly he wondered if she was going to be having a bad few days.

"Because it's a hard drive, Hilde. I already checked, and the thing has a stored memory. Not only do I know its pilot, I know the skills the man once had. His battles are all logged away, and he recorded notes from a few meetings he'd had with his superiors. Most of the information is old, but there were a few things. A small mobile doll hack, for one, that would let you make it see double for point-oh-three seconds – just long enough to dodge death. You don't think that information would be worth anything?"

She was quiet for a while. "Oh," she said finally. He just snorted and clapped her shoulder as he walked back to Deathscythe, satisfied that they were still safe. For now.

"Just make sure the ones who get that hack aren't our enemies, okay?"

"S-Sure."

Deathscythe was waiting for him, as usual, silent and patient as an idol. He stared up at Deathscythe for a while, into those dark green eyes, unlit for now. He had to get moving. He couldn't wait forever. He couldn't help anyone as he was, couldn't fight, couldn't protect. If he was going to die with this damn thing in his brain, he wanted to die with the blood of those bastards on his hands. And, he had to admit, if Heero was alive, Duo wasn't going to let the man keep taking his kills.

If Heero was alive.

Dammit. He needed to stop relying on Heero. Right now, he was the one in trouble. He was the one who needed to make a decision.

The law of the streets said that anyone who couldn't pull their weight was to be left behind. It wasn't cruel, it was simply necessary. No one wanted to die. Helping a useless person would get you killed. Duo had become that useless person. He was dragging down those around him. Heero would top the charts on the list of victims. And if he really wanted to help Quatre realize his dream, then he had to make sure he wouldn't drag down the blond, too.

He returned to Deathscythe once more, patting the thing's inside cockpit in apology for his odd behavior. Then he settled down for some investigative work.

It was hours later when he came up for air, his body protesting in several different places. He rolled his shoulders, rubbed his neck, and stretched out his back before scowling down at his screens. He'd searched through medical databases despite the thin chance of finding the man, and had chosen to narrow the findings down to those labeled to have beards or odd haircuts. Loads had popped up with beards, very few with odd haircuts. None of them with those distinctive sideburns. He didn't even bother searching for the safety deposit box key, only searched for colonies with discreet security banks. There were far too many, and only one of them were on this colony. He'd checked it weeks ago.

He sat back and frowned. He hadn't felt any sign of danger from J's men, but that was to be expected. He wasn't a threat anymore. But then, why attack Heero's apartment? Was it simply for revenge? But then, why attack Heero? They had been so psychotic about making sure Heero was in top physical condition and ready for battle. Why attack him?

The answer was so simple, yet ti made his head spin. They hadn't been after Heero. They'd been after Duo.

Had they thought Duo to be the one responsible for the deaths of Marcus and Lisa? Had they come to get Duo? But why, when he was with... unless they also knew Sally to be a doctor, and had put the pieces together.

His heart triphammered in his chest. He was still being watched, then? Or had they lost him again when he'd left Heero and Sally behind? They would have thought he'd escaped to Sanc. But now that the place was Romefeller's, it would be all too easy to get inside and confirm that he wasn't there. They would have set up a search, and looking for Hilde would have been the first step. If they weren't here now, they would be soon. Would they leave him be after that attack? Or would they return? If Heero was gone, there was no longer a reason to keep him alive. But they'd chosen to kill Duo anyway, right? Because he'd killed Marcus and Lisa – supposedly.

He banged his head against the cockpit's controls, but didn't bother rubbing away the pain. It was on the front of his head, which meant it cleared his mind instead of messing with the Brainbox. How, he wondered, had he missed something so blatantly obvious?

He had to prepare for an attack, just in case. Then he paused, right as he started to grab a couple of sensors from a packet he'd just recently managed to fill. What about Hilde?

He paused. Should e prepare this place for an attack, or should he leave? There had already been so many close calls. Trent. White Fang. If J's men came, the place would become a warzone. Hilde would fight, he had no doubt, and he was even starting to believe she might be able to hold her own, if the enemies came on foot and not in mobile suits – they hadn't had a lot of time to practice in those, seeing as she didn't have one and he refused to let anyone but himself in Deathscythe's cockpit. Hilde's neighbors might become involved. They would learn about her, and about Duo, and might shun her. She would probably say she was okay with it, but no one was ever really prepared to have those close to them turn away.

No. He should leave. This was his battle, not hers. She should never have been onvolved. But that had been her decision, and he had respected it.

Until now.

He came out of the cockpit and searched the hangar. Empty. She must have left at some point. He remembered her walking in and out all day, and when he concentrated on the memories, he thought he remembered her heading into the house about an hour ago. He went there first.

He'd been right. She was in the small kitchen nook stirring what smelled like a sumptuous pasta. His mouth watered. She turned when he entered, as he'd taught her, with one hand hidden behind her to grab a weapon. She grinned from ear to ear when she saw him. "Hey, Duo."

Why did she smile at him like that? But he just smiled back. "Hey," he said, and stepped further inside. Deathscythe was still on, however, and he didn't want to leave it unattended while in such a vulnerable state. "I came to tell you I'm heading out tomorrow morning." Hopefully, he thought, that wouldn't be too late.

She nodded. "Off to go fight again?" She stirred the pasta, then hesitated and turned back. "Not 'heading out again'?"

She'd caught on to his word choice. He grimaced. Maybe he'd spent too long with her, after all. "No."

She was silent. Her hand moved to stir some more, but it seemed more habit than conscious effort. "Oh." Then she seemed to wake up, and the normal Hilde was there, stomping over to him. "Why? Am I still pulling you down? Duo!"

"It's not like that," Duo said, and grabbed her shoulders when she got ready to yell at him some more. "It's not, I swear."

She looked into his eyes, then bit her lip. "Then what?"

He thought about twisting his language again, then decided not to. Whether she caught him in the half-lie or not, he decided she deserved the truth. "If I don't, there's a good chance this place will become a battleground. Your neighbors may get involved. Old Mr. Little. Ms. Halloway and her daughter. Do you want to let it come to that?"

She shook her head. "No. But I can come with you."

"No." And he shook his head. "No," he said again. "This is something no one else should be involved in."

"Why? Because of that... that thing they put in you?" She was getting upset again. She shrugged out of his hold. "I'm not going to leave you! This is something we can work through." She searched his gaze again, but he was unflinching. She seemed to see something in him that she hadn't before. She looked away. "Why won't you take me with you?"

"Because I don't want to get you any more involved."

She breathed deep. "You think I'll get in the way."

He didn't argue it, but he did speak. "There's more to it than that, Hilde, and you and I both know it."

She frowned. Touched his arm. Flinched away at the feel of his muscles, bunched and strained, though he looked calm. She nodded. "I'll be here. And I'll still help. I won't run away from this, Duo. At least... at least leave Deathscythe here, and come get it when you must."

He wanted to argue, but he knew doing so would be an even greater insult. Especially now. And he needed a safe place to store Deathscythe; it was far too dangerous to bring Deathscythe with him. "I understand, and thank you. Just..." he hesitated. His control slipped; his fists clenched. "Try not to get yourself killed, okay?"

She smiled. "You, too."

He left as the dawn's rays hit the colony screens.

He'd been right.

It hadn't taken long for the deep emptiness of space to be littered with the vestiges of J's team. He caught pictures of them through the space shuttle's radars, tiny little blips. Were those mobile suits? Did they really want to send those out after a little ol' shuttle? Wouldn't White Fang or Romefeller get suspicious?

Great. That meant they had enlisted the help of one or the other. That would indeed be easier. He was almost happy he'd left Deathscythe behind, with this reception. He flipped open the international emergency radio channel as he ripped off the helmet to his spacesuit. When the radio switched to the right frequency, he spoke. "Who is this? I'm just a civilian! I have records stating my path. Please let me through!"

"This is an envoy of White Fang," he heard after a minute. "State your code and business."

He sighed, deliberately loud enough to be heard. "It's M537HF. I'm off to Earth to sell my scrap metal." He even had some in the back, courtesy of Hilde. Now he had to hope that that Quinze guy hadn't felt fit to tell every last member of White Fang who Duo was.

"We will verify that."

Communications cut off, and soon the men were linking their main ship to his. He fought the urge to kill them all as they entered his small shuttle, simply pressurizing the entrance chamber and walking them through the place. He was careful not to let any of them directly behind him, and as he led them through his storage bay, he kept his weapons near at hand. They seemed satisfied, and all but the leader walked away satisfied. The leader, however, paused before entering the pressure chamber. "You know," the man said, turning slightly to look at Duo before he left, "you really should join us."

Duo didn't tense, though he wanted to. He just cocked his head and gave the man a small grin. "Um, what?"

But the man just kept looking at him. "Join us."

Duo switched from his persona to Shinigami in an instant. "My answer will always remain the same. Get out."

The man's lips twitched. "Even if we said we had expert doctors on our staff?"

This time he did tense. His breath hushed. Now he studied the man's features – black hair, buzz-cut, narrow eyes and big jaw. Amverage height, average weight, about mid-thirties. "You were told."

"I was."

He was. Not 'we were,' but he was.

Duo pulled out a knife and stabbed him in the neck.

The men in the pressure lock shouted. Duo pulled out a gun and opened the hatch as each man struggled to pull their own weapons out from beneath their suits. He shot each of them, once in the head, and paused. Now he would be in trouble. He may have taken out the men from that one ship, but three others were still waiting for the okay from their superior. The okay they would now never receive.

Great.

He thought for a moment, then pushed the captain into the pressure lock, entering it himself before sealing it and opening the outdoor hatch, still linked with the other ship. He hadn't depressurized the space, and with a whoosh, he and the corpses were all sent through the metal tube into the other ship. Two men were waiting, and as they turned to greet their comrades, they caught sight of Duo. "What–"

He used the same knife he'd used on the captain on them, quickly taking them out. The rest of the ship was the same – each person would see him, yelp or gasp in surprise, and get knifed. In the neck, in the gut, in the eye, in the heart. Duo took them all down, cleaning out the ship piece by piece, until he'd killed the pilot and co-pilot, neither of which even turned around to verify his identity. He glanced over the ship's systems and sighed with relief. These people hadn't been bluffing with him – they had weapons attached to their ship. He turned it around to face one of the other three ships. Without a word, he fired.

The explosion was contained, but it still rocked both the White Fang ship he'd borrowed and his own little shuttle. Staticky shouts came through the radio, then the speakers. He ignored them and shot again.

The last ship wasn't too eager to die so easily, and it fired on Duo. He let the target hit, let it crash through the main engine. Warnings blipped along the screens, warning of overheating, of eminent combustion. He aimed through the screaming sirens and destroyed the last ship before it could fire again.

Then he headed back through the linked tube to his own ship and launched away. When the final ship blew, he was already so far as to only see it on his radar.

"Tell me, will you hold me?
When wrong, will you scold me?
When lost, will you find me?"

~ Michael Jackson, "Will You Be There?"

Earth.

It really was a beautiful place, if seen from a distance. Bright, clear, full of blues and greens, the clouds a perfect, crystalline white. The darkness that pervaded its edges – the perfect blackness of space – couldn't seem to penetrate its beauty. Instead, it only seemed to make the Earth glow even more brilliantly. The rest of his trip had been uneventful, and now he could see the end of his short journey.

He couldn't believe he was going back to Earth.

It was stupid of him, he knew. Returning to Sanc – or where Sanc had once been – was treacherous. Not to mention stupid. Romefeller would be crawling all over Sanc's corpse. Still, if he wanted any chance of finding those J flunkies off of Hilde's turf, the best place would be where they last met. That meant going to Sanc, checking out Heero's apartment – old apartment; Heero wouldn't be caught dead there anymore – and then perhaps sailing right into Romefeller's clutches and sitting in Relena's old throne room. Oh, pardon. Office.

He passed the time considering what all could go wrong, then played with one of his bowie knives for about an hour. Then he thought about his contingency plans if he failed to meet with his enemeis – of which there were none, except maybe go on a killing spree with Romefeller and hope for the best – and then thought about what to do if he got captured. That one, too, was pretty much a blank. He didn't want to think about what J's men might do if they caught him again.

In the end, everything rode on dumb luck. He knew the risk was great, the reward negligent. He just needed to find these people and somehow learn how to get rid of all of them. Eliminate the threat, and Heero would say.

But how?

He knew he had to catch someone alive and make them talk, yet every time he managed the first, he always lost the latter. They would commit suicide, or something would happen and he'd be forced away from those he'd captured. Hilde had needed to kill the last batch, since he hadn't come back from burning the corpses. The time before that, the person had killed himself. The time before that, the person had killed himself. He swore, he had nothing but bad luck.

This time, he needed to keep someone alive long enough to get some answers. He had to, or else he was fucked.

Landing on Earth was simple. He had actual, official documentation explaining his visit, and he left the shuttle and its scrap metals to be offloaded. He didn't really care about what happened, but he would at least make sure Hilde got her money's worth before he disappeared off into the sunset. He went through the motions, found a reliable buyer, bid the man up a good three g's for the information on the wrecked mobile suit system, and headed into Sanc.

The trip into the destroyed country was difficult from the start. Romefeller really had camped just inside the old border. Duo could see men walking along the border, other heading into the country, most probably to hunt for any leftover Sanc supporters. Duo's mind flitted to Heero before he snorted. His butt those men would catch Heero. Unless he really was horribly injured from babysitting Duo.

No. Right now, Duo needed to concentrate on himself.

His plan was vague, and kind've sad. Go to the apartment and wait. Lame. The worst part was that Duo could swear White Fang had only come upon his shuttle because of J's men's intervention. That meant that Romefeller could come and hunt him down through J's men's help.

It was hard, being popular.

"Okay," he murmured, then again, as he walked past the outer rim of the old border for the second time, "okay."

He had to just go for it.

The road to Heero's apartment seemed a little too crowded, but Duo understood it when he saw that the apartment building had been cordoned off as a crime zone. Heero's house was practically wrapped in military police tape. People stopped to gawk at the ripped hedges and the pockmarked walls. It was rather easy to join the crowd, to look at the bottom-floor apartment and be able to see small holes in the plaster, letting him see inside to Heero's leather sofa. It was in tatters.

He thinned his lips. Heero had made that place. Duo could tell, instinctively, that the apartment he labeled Heero's really had been his. A sanctuary. A home. Duo felt rage bubble under his skin. Fuck J. Fuck that man and his men, for destroying something Heero had clasped as his own. Duo didn't want to look at what he was doing as stupid or suicidal. He wanted to look at it as getting his life back.

It was a bit harder to get into the apartment building, but not by much. He spoke with someone as they entered the apartment building, returning, possibly, from work, and struck up a conversation with them, mentioning a friend who called at all hours of the day and night. The middle-aged man laughed and joked about it being a close friend, and Duo was in. He waved the elevator off, pretending to be attempting to lose weight, and the man gave Duo a dubious look, looking over Duo's young body, before the man chuckled, shook his head, and mumbled, "very close friend." Duo just grinned and watched the man leave.

Then he checked the first floor for cameras, avoiding all of them, and slipped into the apartment. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stick up. He ducked down on instinct and pulled out a knife.

"Hello."

He turned. Off where Heero's apartment stretched to include the bedrooms, someone sat against the wall. Duo was unsurprised to see a gun in their hand. Still he held on to his knife, even as he saw the sitting person stand. It was a man, of course, but with hair almost as long as Duo's and jet black. Duo watched that hair swish as the man stood. "Who are you?"

"It's good to finally meet you," the man said instead. He walked over to Heero's ruined sofa and touched the back of it. Bullets had torn the cushions to shreds. Blood spatters still wrapped themselves up and down the walls, puddling on the floor. The man was careful to avoid them. It was only when watching the man's graceful movements, in fact, that Duo realized there were such puddles lying around still. The walls were dry, but the puddles still seemed the tiniest bit wet; Duo knew it was only because there was so much, in so small an area, without it being exposed to enough sunlight. It was moist, like water beneath ice in a lake.

Duo didn't move. He needed to be ready to dodge at any moment, and moving might mean being in a vulnerable position in the millisecond when it would lead to death. "Is that so." He also couldn't call the man one of J's men, just in case he wasn't.

"When I'd heard you left Schbeiker's scrap yard, I headed here. I was hoping I would have the opportunity to meet you."

The man wasn't giving him much. White Fang had known where he was, too, and Trent had managed to find him – proof that Romefeller could probably find him, as well. "Who are you?" he asked again.

The man smiled, but thinly. "My name is Nind."

Nind? "What do you want with me?" Still, he didn't move. His legs, trapped in the crouched position, felt hot with the effort of holding him up.

"Nothing." The man actually sat down in Heero's ruined couch. Duo had no idea why that made him see red. "And yet, a good deal. I'm rather confused, myself."

The man certainly didn't look confused. "Where are the rest?"

The man was already shaking his head. "No, enough questions, thank you. I have a few for you, after all." He gestured with his chin. "Please, do stand."

Duo wanted to do no such thing. He cursed himself for stupidly walking in. He hadn't thought they would ambush him, but it had been stupid to just calm waltzing in, too. He just hadn't had time to waste – fucking Romefeller. He stood.

"There. Now I can see you much better." Duo hid the grimace. That was, of course, another reason why he hadn't wanted to stand. "Put away the knife, Duo Maxwell. I won't give you the opportunity to use it."

This time, Duo did grimace. He took his time putting it away, back into his hidden sheath on his arm. It burned to do it; he didn't want to lose even this small illusion of power. He was left feeling completely vulnerable. He wasn't, though; if he had to dodge, he could roll over to the upended endtable and snatch up a broken fragment of the lamp. He could still win. He just needed to be patient. And ready to dodge.

"Have you nothing to say? From all reports, you're quite the blabbermouth."

"I have nothing I wanna say to you." Duo glared at the man, daring him to fire. This man didn't look like one of the forgettables at the bottom of the military food chain. No, he looked more like Duo, or Trowa, or Wufei. A special class, all his own.

"No?" The man outright grinned, showing off a set of bright whites. "But I'm curious. How strong are you? How beautiful? I'd seen your picture, but I hadn't believed. I'd read reports of you, and I had been unimpressed." He tilted his head. "Even now, you have entered into this room with far too little readiness."

Duo snarled.

The man crossed his legs, the very picture of ease. Duo, on the other hand, stayed in his position, ready to roll to the sides – or toward that bastard, if he got the chance. "Well." He leaned forward. The man's eyes were bright, Duo realized. A bright, bright green. "Have you and the one called Heero Yuy created more than a physical bond?"

Duo blinked. What the hell kind've way to ask was that? And would it be better to answer this man's questions, or not? No. No, it wouldn't. No matter what, he couldn't fall into whatever trap this man was trying to lay.

The man tsked, then nodded.

Duo sensed the danger and moved before he could understand the urge; a bullet ripped through a hole in the side plaster and slammed a short distance from where Duo had stood. He kept rolling and watched black and white splotch his vision, but was gratified when another bullet bit into the flooring. He couldn't hear any gunshots. Silencers? Or snipers? He couldn't tell without seeing the bullets, and he wouldn't be able to see them with Nind in the room. Duo looked up and growled. The man's gun was on him. Duo's head pounded, pounded, pounded.

The room was open. The walls might as well have been clear, what with all the holes. Enemies from outside would be able to target him, and he wouldn't be able to hunt for them effectively with Nind inside with him. Fuck! He'd hoped to meet up with them, not walk into an ambush. He locked his jaw. It would work. He would use this. He would win!

His vision turned black.

He flinched, grunted. Gave away, for one short instant, his weakness.

Pain flared up his leg, then back down. His leg buckled. A bullet. He hadn't heard the bullet, which meant he'd been hit from someone outside. He didn't grab for the wound, even as he felt his blood run down to join the rest.

He couldn't see.

He took a deep breath. The pain in the back of his head wasn't abating. If anything, it was getting worse. He grimaced as it pounded, harder and harder. He almost thought he could feel it thrumming against the lines of his brain, that damn metal flicking and sparking. Apparently, it was doing no damage at all to his imagination.

"That will become permanent, you know," Nind said, and Duo jerked. The man had moved. Fuck. The man was silent, and Duo couldn't see him. He'd sounded like he was nearing the kitchen, but he could simply be circling Duo like a shark. "There are issues with the installation of the Neuro-Optic Shock Link. I'm sure, by now, you've noticed a few of them."

Hell, there were more issues than just this? But Duo gritted his teeth and rode it out. "Fuck you."

The man actually laughed.

Hell, his leg hurt.

"That sounds more like the Duo Maxwell I've read about." The man sounded close. Duo ducked down on instinct, then moved again, tumbling back as the feel of death touched his senses. The pain in the back of his head doubled. He stumbled as he stood, the pain in his leg and his head beating against him. It cost him a grazing bullet on his arm. He clutched at it, pulled out his knife, and dodged again. His breath whooshed out as an elbow connected with his gut. He crashed into the upended endtable and fell into the broken lamp. Its pieces cut slithers into his arms and back. He sucked in a breath.

"Is there a bond?" the man asked again, and Duo knew Nind stood above him, that gun of his pointed at a part of Duo that would leave the man alive. Probably the side of his head. Duo snarled. "If you do not answer, then I will assume there is."

Duo snarled even more. If he denied it too quickly, then Nind would know how Duo felt. If Duo try to deny Heero's feelings, he would know Duo felt something. If he said yes, the man would know Duo was trying to dodge Nind's question. "It's none of your fuckin' business who I fuck," he said.

Nind didn't move. Or, at least, Duo couldn't hear him move, no matter how much he strained his ears. He wouldn't know if the man was going to shoot him until he already had the bullet wound. He couldn't fucking believe that after all of the recuperating he'd gone through with his busted ribs and numerous wounds, he was busted up again.

How stupid. Worrying about injuries when he had a gun pointed at him – well, probably pointed at him. He couldn't tell for sure. Because he was blind.

"Who you fuck," Nind said finally, his voice sounded like he was rolling the letters out one by one. "Interesting. And was he a good fuck?"

Duo felt something freezing in his chest and throat. It clawed at him. "What?" he whispered.

"Is he a good fuck?" the man said, as if Duo's hearing might also be impaired.

Clawing, clawing, clawing in his chest, its nails digging with every heartbeat. This man was after Heero? Duo's lips trembled. He wanted to warn the man away from Heero, but the words clogged in his throat. He couldn't say it. He didn't care if it was his life on the line; he would always blurt out anything he thought. But it wasn't him. This wasn't about him. What the hell did this man want with Heero?

He'd said he wasn't interested in Duo. That Duo meant nothing, and yet quite a bit.

"They're all the same after a while," Duo said. His voice sounded slightly choked. He cleared his throat, tried to pretend he was just embarrassed and not scared. "He was quick, though."

Nind chuckled. "I see. Perhaps we made a mistake."

Thank God. Maybe...

"Or," Nind said, "considering what J told us about your time at the Lunar base, perhaps not."

Duo worked hard to keep his breathing steady. "Or perhaps you're just stupid," he said. This was getting worse. At this rate, he wouldn't be able to stop Nind from doing... whatever he wanted.

Nind made a small, fake-interested sound, and went silent. Duo couldn't move; he could feel Nind above him, could feel the gun in the air, aimed at him. His leg burned, his arm hurt. But the back of his head – he could feel it. He wasn't imagining it. He could feel the Brainbox against his head, as if it was wrapped around a nerve. He could feel it like electricity, jolting against his brain. It wasn't as bad as it would be if he saw Heero, but it was trying.

Then Duo felt it. The cold muzzle of the gun, resting right above his left ear. "Then, if he holds interest and you do not," Nind said, cutting into Duo's thoughts, "then perhaps I asked the wrong question. "Are you a good fuck?"

The clawing ripped through his stomach. Duo gasped for breath. "What?"

Duo heard Nind shift, and suddenly he felt the man's hair on his chest and arms. His blood pumped fast and thick through his veins. "The one called Heero Yuy. He chose you above all else, even after all the training we gave him. All the training I gave him. And yet still he fell to sex." Duo felt fingers trace up his stomach. His muscles jumped. The creature within him seized his throat. "So did I fail in my training? Or are you better?"

Stop. His mouth opened for him to say it, but he couldn't. It was as if trying to keep silent for Heero had closed off his mouth entirely. Those fingers trailed up to his chest and pressed down. More hair bled onto his chest, his neck, his cheek, and then hot breath bathed his ear. "I'm curious."

No. Duo felt himself freezing up. No, no no! He'd been trained for this, for this very possibility. Yet now, when it was coming to pass, though he'd never had a fucking problem before...

He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head.

No!

Duo pushed against the man, using his knee to switch places with Nind. He ducked his head, moved his body around, trying to avoid the man's gun, and with a lamp shard stabbed the first place he could. Nind shouted and fired. The bullet ripped into the ceiling, the report echoing in Duo's ear. He stabbed again. This time when Duo heard the gunshot, he felt it punch through his gut. He sucked in a breath and stabbed the man one more time. He felt Nind go limp underneath him.

He couldn't be sure that Nind was dead, but he couldn't wait to try to find the man's neck. He stumbled to his feet, clutching his side. He felt more of his blood spill to the ground. It made sloppy splashing sounds as it landed. He tried to get away. But where to go? He was blind and injured, and Nind's gunshot would have instigated someone calling the police. He couldn't leave unconventionally, because J's men had the place surrounded. He was trapped.

Still, he ran for the bedrooms. He banged against the wall and rolled off. Another bullet slammed into the plaster. He just kept rolling until he fell in. The cops would find a new pattern of blood on those walls now.

He crawled into the hall until no more bullets hit the floor around him. He breathed hard, still holding his injured side. He wished, suddenly and rather desperately, that he could see Heero's face. Hell. He wished he could see anything. He ran through his options. Should he try to lose his weapons and act like a civilian? As if that would work. But he was blind. There was nothing he could do. The thought brought back that clawing monster. How he hated being afraid.

A ringing sounded from his ass, and he jumped. His phone. He reached for it, grappled with the thing, then searched with his thumb for the send button before hitting it and pulling it to his ear.

What? At this point, he had absolutely nothing to lose.

"Verify."

He almost collapsed. Why the hell was he so happy to hear Heero's voice? "Heero," he gasped, barely able to speak. He thought he heard sirens in the distance. He couldn't hear anything from outside the house, but he wouldn't. Not until it was too late.

"Status," Heero said, his voice clipped, and Duo couldn't believe it but he was relieved. He may not ever see Heero's voice again, but he was okay with the poor substitute.

"I'm dead, Heero." He sucked in another breath. "I'm dead."

There was silence over the line, and Duo suddenly felt that clawing thing again. Why was he afraid? Afraid to leave Heero? He leaned his head back and grimaced. He had to try to escape, even if he failed doing so. He struggled once again to stand. He needed to let go of his side wound to do so, and he thought he felt a bucketful of blood splurt free as he did.

"Where are you?"

He almost laughed. "No, no, I mean it, Heero. I'm toast. I'm blind, and I'm injured, and I'm surrounded. I'm dead."

"Where are you?"

He shook his head. "Nowhere." He wheezed. He wasn't coughing, though; that was good. He stumbled against the wall to a door. His old bedroom? Or a bathroom? "I'm nowhere, Heero."

"Dammit, Duo!"

The words sounded so foreign, so abnormal. Duo paused. Heero had just... lost his temper. "I'm sorry, Heero. I tried."

Those were definitely sirens, and they were definitely getting closer.

"Duo, where are you?"

Duo was scared. And, he realized with a start, so was Heero. "God, they were right. Can you fuckin' believe it?" He laughed, even as he rushed through the room. It was his bedroom, the one he'd stayed in when he was here. That knowledge helped him find the far wall without too much trouble. More gunshots broke the window. He was sprayed with glass, and the small little wounds scraped into his cheek and arm. "What the hell happened, Heero? How did it get to this point? We've hardly seen each other, for God's sake."

It hurt. He couldn't believe how much it hurt, the thought of dying here. "Duo." Heero's voice was quiet.

"I'm sorry. Really," Duo said, not wanting his last words to seem too cruel. "I'm sorry."

"Duo, tell me where you are!"

Duo pulled out a gun and listened to the bullets flying past him. When a short pause entered, he fired. He couldn't know if he'd hit anyone, but he couldn't wait. He jumped out of the window. Someone shouted. Pain flared up his right shoulder, scratched along his already-injured leg. He ran to nowhere. He was unsurprised when he slammed straight into something. By the texture, Duo would say it was a fence. He bounced off it and kept running, shooting once behind him, hoping he didn't hit a civilian.

He slammed into something else, and a quick touch noted a traffic pole. He'd... gotten away?

Still he ran, trying to stay straight and not jump into the road. He could hear cars, could hear the sirens, could hear people gasping and running away. He breathed hard. In the end, the thing that made him fall was nothing other than the Brainbox. His running seemed to upset something, and with a sizzle, pain seared through him. He fell and slammed his hands against the ground. It did nothing but make him fall on top of his hands. His gun dug into his shoulder.

And when he fell, he felt a gun against his back.

"Don't move," he heard, and cursed. Nind. "You are to come back with me. Resist again, and I will shoot your spinal cord."

Duo heard a small, tinny sound from his phone. "So, what, Nind?" he asked, speaking for Heero's benefit. Just in case Nind planned of doing something to Heero after he'd taken care of Duo. "You plan on fucking me before or after you take me to that sideburns doctor? Or are you just going to kill me?"

"All three offers tempt me. Stand up." Duo hesitated,then stood, hugging the phone and gun both to his chest. "Drop your weapon." He did, then spoke before Nind could order him to show his hands.

"What are you going to do to Heero, then? Are you going to tell him how you killed me?"

Duo could hear, since the phone was against his collarbone, the hiss on the other end of the line.

"No," Nind said. Duo heard a few more screams from the crowd he couldn't see. Apparently, Nind's gun had been noticed. "He will think you're alive. Perhaps, if you don't struggle with me, you might even will be."

Duo grinned. "Oh, I don't think he'll fall for that. Not anymore."

And he dropped his cell phone. He heard it crack as it hit the pavement.

Nind shouted inarticulately. Duo felt the wind move, and when he tried to dodge, Nind's gun left a glancing blow – right on the back of his head. Lightning crashed just before he went out.

A/N: Nind's existence surprised me, so... yeah. There you go. An actual storyline! Kind've...

Extra Note: And... wow. My Internet lasts only minutes at a time now. I'm uploading this while I have the chance. ^_^; Um, bear with me?