Chapter 14: No Chance in Hell
Author: Gilly Wrist
Reviews most welcome! Sorry it has been a little bit! I have been extremely busy with work!
Dyna: On Heero and the prison, yes, that is a good question to wonder about. As for the updates, you are quite welcome!
Karina: Agreed, poor boy can hardly stand.
Snowdragonct: You are on to something. You are on to something SO hard. Haha. I'm so pleased!
Enna: A lot can happen in two days. Of cuddles, I am not so sure.
Solitaire: Your faith warms my heart. And You have done more than you know, so feel delighted! As far as payback, I am the one indebted, my dear.
Lurk-ette: Agreed madam. As a writer I am usually a lyricist. I'm interested in the ear of a piece, and meticulous execution. If there was an appropriate word for anal over-thinking …( I will leave that thought hanging.) The nature, in my mind, of fan-fiction, stops me from making the sounds of each sentence a life and death issue. At the moment, I am so very happy I am writing again. It's an exercise in the opposite direction of the usual, so I relax a bit on myself. I'm glad you like the way they communicate. I've been absolutely delighting in the two of them interacting. I would be honored to hear a critique of some original work (which would be drafted and drafted and drafted) one day. I thank you so much for your words. Criticism is so helpful and dearly appreciated.
There is hardly a difference between nitrogen and oxygen. I read about it in an electronics manual. We could live in a world of all oxygen. A single spark would ignite that whole world, sure, but we could survive in it. Nitrogen? Nothing. The difference? A single electron in the outer most orbit. 5-6.
One damn electron.
I had a feeling we both wouldn't make it out alive.
There's only one damn electron after all. I suppose that meant one of us had to come up short.
I always thought I'd be a goner.
Zechs, for reasons still unknown, had just befriended me.
Like I said earlier, he was as batshit crazy as I was, I guess.
I started reading a lot after it all. I wanted to know more about everything. Manuals sure, I always read those. But also the minds of men. Literature. Things I could've imagined him reading. If the rats could see me now…
I guess I did not know what to do with all the time on my hands.
I was looking for something. Something to sort all my thoughts. Something to make sense of back then, and later, and now. Something so I'd understand. I carried these couple days with me more than a lot of other shit. I had no real explanation as to why.
Why he did what he did. And why I gave a shit.
And why I'm speaking now, for the first time really, in defense of this man.
"I need some air." Duo offered, backing away from the doorframe and towards the balcony. Things were starting to spin a bit. Not a lot, but it was disorienting still.
Zechs nodded, standing up and moving towards the kitchen. He thought it best to give the boy some room.
The boy swayed as he opened the door and desperately sucked in fresher air. He did not bother to shut the door as he moved for the support of the railing; he gripped the sturdy metal hard. It was a bright, bright day. After yesterday's overcast it was too much. Not a cloud. Everything felt overly saturated, fake almost. Hyper real. Too green, too blue, too bright, the air too fresh.
What was most disorienting about all of this is he had not one single thought. His head was a buzzing dizzy void. His inner monologue was silent as if shot dead. Silent like nothing ever existed in the space between his ears, just a big empty void. It was far beyond speechless. He felt souless. He closed his eyes and focused on his breaths.
He heard Zechs approach and turned his head, watching the man carry two steaming cups of coffee. The Merquise set them down on the table, and sat down in one of the chairs, pressing a cigarette to his lips.
Duo struggled to calculate how long it takes to make a fresh pot of coffee so he knew how long he'd been out here, but his brain would not latch on to that desire and respond.
"I am glad the door was open." Zechs supplied, watching him carefully, trying to bring his attention towards the coffee.
Duo reluctantly eased his death grip on the railing, moving over to the table and sitting down hard on the remaining chair. Two hands wrapped around a burning hot coffee mug but Duo needed that pain. He needed to feel his palms bright red with scalding heat to come back down to earth.
Zechs noticed and said nothing.
Duo was trembling by the time he slowly brought the coffee to his lips, and took a gulp. His burning mouth and hands did the trick, he was back, and he moved the mug back down to the table with urgency. The roof of his mouth felt a bit raw but he was back inside himself. Mission complete, as Heero would say.
Duo looked at him with a 'please?' And Zechs a 'help yourself.' The man pushed the pack of cigarettes closer, and Duo gratefully pushed one between his teeth.
"I'm not sure this is a good idea." Duo said finally, searching inside himself for more of his personality. He was too shaken to feel like it, but he needed it. "Ya know? Like…" That was better. "I, you probably have a lot of these types of things. Friends. The whole fencing team and all. I uh. I'm not very good with these types of things."
He looked away, eyes back on the hyper-real blue sky. Bad decision, he moved his eyes over to the coffee mug. Better.
He wrapped a palm around it again, breathing through the pain. He knew the mug would not stay hot enough long enough. He had to take advantage while he could. He could feel Zechs inhale, about to say something but he did not want to hear it. "I…I just don't gotta lotta friends. And I'm unlucky. And I'm the God of Death. So anyone that tried to be, died real quick."
"You might be the death of me figuratively, one day," Zechs said, his voice soft. "But we are not on each other's lists."
Duo shook his head. "Now wait just a-"
"You'd assassinate me?" Zechs sounded amused.
"If it was a targeted objective," Duo supplied weakly, realizing how utterly untrue that statement was. Fuck. Duo and Heero had both prided themselves on still being able to kill each other, on coming secondly, (or thirdly), to any mission objective. There was a comfort in that, an honesty. It was clean that way. It is what it is. It was what it was. That's how soldiers are friends.
This was a new animal. And It was a species Duo did not dare recognize. Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.
"I'd change the objective," Zechs said.
This was how humans are friends.
The mug no longer hurt in his palm. It had cooled sufficiently, or his palm had simply numbed to the pain. It was a shame.
Duo did not want this in the way he decided he did not, in fact, actually want a dog. Physical pain he'd welcome. He even needed it sometimes to snap back into himself, but the soul stuff. His soul ached. His very soul just fucking ached. He could not take much more of this kinda pain. Gut pain. In-your-lungs pain. Heart pain.
"I don't have very many friends," Zechs offered in the silence.
"Treize," Duo said.
"I ..no." He did not have words for it. "It's complicated. Yes, perhaps of a sort." The man shifted, averting his eyes.
"He looks at you like he wanted to eat you. Like he wanted to eat me. A man like that gets what he wants before long," Duo said.
Zechs sighed. "Is it so very apparent?"
"A guess." Duo offered. It was hardly a guess.
Zechs hardly believed him.
"And when he called you a friend, there was something else in it. Something mocking almost." Duo shrugged.
"It was a long time ago." Zechs said.
"Hey, it's your ass, not mine," Duo shrugged, inhaling a deep drag.
Before Zechs could pale, or wince, or sigh, the man spotted the mischief in Duo's eyes, it was somehow infectious. The man smirked as he shook his head. "The very death of me," Zechs said softly, marveling at what a trouble maker this small boy has been, and could be.
"Of that I wouldn't joke." Duo answered.
Duo had smoked down to the filter, stubbed it out and lit another. Zechs said nothing.
"We are on two different sides," Duo said.
"It's not two sides. Or a triangle even. Each soldier on his own side, more like." Zechs replied. "Certain soldiers share certain motives for a time, an allegiance. It does not last. Can you say you are on the same side as 01? Or 03 or 5?" Zechs looked at him. "It's more complicated, I'd imagine. You work together as long as you share common interest. As long as you have the same goals. That, as you are now aware, can change."
"I'm not a child," Duo answered.
"You are not a child," Zechs agreed.
"We don't share an interest," Duo tried. He did not like how often Zechs alluded to the assassination hit against him; it was hard enough to push it to the back of his thoughts. "No matter the number of sides."
"That will change," the Merquise said. "In time it will be revealed."
"Well, let there be fucking light then," Duo snapped. The patronizing, the control, the man had so much self control, and grace, and power. All the damn cards. He hated this. If Zechs had a solution, he wanted to hear it now.
"Trust me." Zechs said.
"No." Duo snapped.
Zechs said nothing.
The boy forced a deep breath. His voice was calmer now, "No." He shook his chestnut bangs out of his eyes.
"We are at an impasse then." The man's voice was thoughtful and sad. "Unless…"
"Yea…?" Duo said, his patience wearing thin.
The man reached for a cigarette, long fingers delicately holding the rolled paper and tobacco, "Quid pro quo."
"English," Duo frowned.
"Something given in return for something else," Zechs said, lighting the cigarette with a match. "Eye for eye."
"A barter." Duo said warily. He hated arrangements. "Tit for tat, ya mean."
The man nodded, staring at the bright orange ember at the end of the cigarette. He had to find a way to buy a couple more hours, a couple more days. He had to appeal to something he did not know much about. During negotiations, it is smart to appeal to empathy, to cause, or to past history. He did not know what tugged on Duo's heart; he did not know what causes the boy was truly behind. And that left history.
He did not have an extensive understanding of the boy's history. The file mentioned the colony in the L2 cluster. An orphanage. Streets and gangs. It would be a dangerous game.
"I'm not asking of you to be my friend," Zechs started. "But I am yours and with tha-"
The boy's eyes narrowed.
Game over.
"Sometimes it-"
Too late.
"I don't know what kind of friendships you entertain, Merquise." The boy all but sneered. "But they go both ways. Or they don't go at all." Duo took a deep drag, exhaling through his nostrils. It made him look like a wild snorting stallion. "Quid pro fucking quo."
The man opened his mouth but Duo shot him a look that had the man bite his tongue.
"Fucking complicated language, complicated fencing team, politics. We aren't-" Duo looked up towards the heavens. "-We aren't from the same fucking world even. You act like you trying to be my friend is free. Like I can just not be yours in return. Maybe in your world, fuck yea. Fucking wolves and politics and lies and your fucking big bullshit words."
Duo forced a deep breath, dragging his eyes off the too blue sky and back on the Merquise. Talking was grounding him. He could feel its strength in his stomach. "Not in my fucking world, man. If someone's got their back out for me I can't not have it out for them, understand? If someone's stealing me bread ya better fucking believe I'd break my neck to get the guards off their ass. So you better start saying what you mean or keep throwing around your nonsense big words again. Because ya can't keep throwing around real things like they ain't fucking nothing at all."
"I apologize." Zechs said. "I didn't…I understand now." It was not worth it to explain. "I was," he cleared his throat, "Lying to myself about the gravity of what I asked of you. I should never have thought you, you, would value friendships as lowly as some of my past acquaintances. I did not mean to infer that" Zechs just stopped. There was no need to continue. "I ask your pardon. I won't make the mistake again."
Duo did not look convinced. "Just spill already."
The man had wanted to wait. Wanted everything secure. The final few discs in hand before he got into it all. That, it appeared, was no longer a viable option. The negotiations had failed before they even had a chance to really begin.
"My motives…," Zechs said. He tried again, "It is clear to me now the system no longer functions." He looked over at the boy, "If it ever did at all."
The man took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "There is no justice for someone like you. There is no integrity, no honor, in the systems of this war. Treize is dangerous yes, dangerous to you and dangerous to me. But he is an ally in all of this. And if you can help me, then I will let you go so you can get back to doing just what it is you do."
Duo's eyes widened in objection.
"There is a schism." And with this, Zechs lowered his voice. It sounded like a soft rumbling growl. These were the gravest of secrets. "Duke Dermail and his mobile dolls. Treize and his," Zechs faltered, "beliefs."
The boy raised his eyebrows.
"The General," Zechs tried again, "Treize believes in honor on the battlefield and honor and civility can only be accomplished between men. A winner and a loser based on fortitude and skill, not numbers."
"He'd rather sacrifice lives on principle," Duo said, disgust in his tone.
"Without lives nothing holds weight. That's the nature of battle. It is resources otherwise, or simple mathematics. It all becomes meaningless."
"It always has been meaningless. Bodies, dolls." He shot the man a scornful look.
"If this becomes about the dolls, Duo. You will lose. You will all lose. Any resistance will be overwhelmed. It will be a massacre."
"Probably," Duo answered. One death was as good as another on a battlefield. Death in space he could handle. Executions or in a prison cell was a whole different animal.
"Certainly," Zechs said, frowning at Duo's nonchalance.
"So how do I help you so you'll let me atta here."
"The mobile dolls," Zechs said. "If I give you Tsubarov's systems. You can find a way, a weakness."
Duo whistled; dark blue eyes wide as saucers.
"If I give you those systems, that's worth more than a targeted objective."
Duo nodded, ears ringing a bit at the dizzying consequences of all of this. "That oughta work." He could not imagine the order still standing if he was holding information as devastating as the Merquise described. It is something even Heero would trade for. That thought, bargaining for his life, ached somewhere. He shoved it aside, in the shock of the Merquise's words. "You'd hang for that."
Zechs shook his head. "Not necessarily. The schism is there. It's a matter of time."
"All your beautiful furniture.." ( In Duo's defense, it did not sound as sardonic as it could have.)
"Forfeit." Zechs shrugged.
"Like a thief in the night."
"Are we so different now?" Zechs said.
"Yea," Duo answered. He would never let Zechs win a single point of that. They could not possibly be more different. Of that, if little else, Duo was completely and utterly convinced. "I'd love to see ya after a few years on the lam."
The man sobered at the thought. "I was never on a fencing team, Duo. I grew up in hiding. Grew up a ghost. I've been pretending since it suited me. I assumed a role that fit. I was at Victoria Academy. But trust me." He stared hard at the boy. "I will not mourn the furniture."
"Even the fancy couch looking things?"
"The canapé? No."
"Why the fucking helmet?"
Zechs frowned. As it had not come up earlier, he had been hoping the boy would not ask. He did not wear it in his quarters. He did not wear it around Treize. He had not been wearing it in the prison that day. He wore it in battle; he wore it in front of strangers. Habits, hiding, guilt. OZ. It was foolish to think anyone could recognize him as the seven year old kid presumed dead. The seven year old lost prince of the Peacecrafts.
"Alright sheesh," Duo answered, watching as Zechs face darkened, watching the man get lost in his thoughts. "Nevermind."
"Treize is securing the final discs. Hopefully he will not insist on seeing you off."
"He knows the truth then?" Duo said.
"No…yes," Zechs said. "He can tell I care for you. Perhaps he thinks it's a sort of …infatuation."
"It's more dangerous for him to think we're friends." Duo agreed. "So you're crushin' on your screw?"
"It appears that way to him, I believe." Zechs answered.
"I am charming."
Zechs snorted at that. He was glad Duo's mood was brightening. The tone was acidic still. But it was not as heavy as earlier. "You are charming."
"And very handsome." Duo added.
"Quite." The Merquise replied.
"I mean I could really understand how a guy like you would just fall for a guy like"
The Merquise raised his eyebrows. "You?"
"No the fucking canapé. Yea me, man."
"Unfortunate, as a guy like you could never really fall for a guy li-"
"Not a chance in hell," Duo answered with a grin.
"And hell is the house of the God of Death himself. So you'd know."
"You better believe it, babe."