*zap stares in utter amazement at reviews for the last chapter*. Wow. I'm speechless. I didn't think this many people would come back. I'm…really happy. Thank you. Everybody. Thank you. Please review again.
Temper the Soul
Chapter 25
By Zapenstap
Opening his eyes was like moving from one dark place to another, but with consciousness came awareness and a clarity Damion hadn't had since he came to this place. He could feel the restorative powers sleep had on his body. Even though he still felt tired, it was better than the sick exhaustion that had caused his emotions to go awry and his mind to hallucinate. His senses tuned in to his surroundings. Everything seemed so much clearer.
There was something warm and soft behind his head, and a scent like fresh fruit and roses in his nose. It was the sweet feel and scent of a woman. For a moment he was thrown backward and thought he was a child and this woman was his mother holding him in those very early days when he was afraid of the dark.
Then memory returned.
Audrey.
He hadn't hallucinated about her. He closed eyes, letting his senses absorb the reality. She was much more real to him now than he she had been before, and her presence with him much more frightening. She shouldn't be here, not in this place. For one thing, it was dangerous. He also knew that she shouldn't see him like this, but for one of the rare times in his life, he didn't care if someone saw him weak and vulnerable. Vaguely, he recalled the day before when he had willingly sought comfort in her arms and closed his eyes. Slowly, he moved his hands to touch her, delicately brushing the back of a crooked finger against the soft skin of her cheek and neck.
His hands were untied. He was free. It was a glorious feeling to be able to move his arms apart. Carefully, he sat up and turned, gently grasping her shoulders and twisting them both so that he could hold her instead of the other way around. She murmured as he moved her, falling across his lap. Smiling, he lifted her body until he could ease her back against his chest and wrap his arms about her middle. He was surprised she didn't wake up but not sorry. He had never observed her asleep before and never held her so intimately. He loved it. For some reason he thought she might be a light sleeper, but apparently she slept heavily, unless today was a rarity and she was just exhausted. He wished he could see her face. People always looked so peaceful when they slept. But he settled for running his hands over her tangled hair and holding her in his arms. Any other place and it would have been a beautiful way to wake up.
Try as he might, he couldn't understand why Gardiner let her in here with him. Why such grace after such cruelty? Unless he thought of it as a sort of torture. If so, the man did not understand love at all. Giving her to him, letting him see her, was like drinking a potion of hope. He felt the despair drain away just feeling her close. He did remember that time in the countryside, when her acceptance of his marriage proposal had been like signing a contract. But he had been sure then, sure she was a wonderful human being who would honor him all his life whether she loved him or not. Really, that was all he could ask for in his situation, all anyone should ask for. He remembered wanting to fall in love desperately, though, and recalled how surprised and confused he was when it happened simply from willing it. Of course, her qualities and attractiveness helped, but it was still so strange, and heartbreaking when she didn't return the gesture. He wondered if she was still self-possessed. He thought so. That wasn't something you shed like an accessory. Leaning over, he touched her forehead with his cheek, listening to her breathing. She was warm-blooded and beautiful. It just might take a little aggression on his part to break down her walls. He hoped he could do it.
Perhaps they would die today. Gardiner had said he would kill him soon, but Damion wasn't sure he minded. If he ever made it home alive, he wasn't sure how he would be able to live anyway. It wasn't that he would give up. He would certainly survive, but living was more complicated than breathing and he had lost so much of the foundations that had been his life. That was Gardiner's real victory, if he realized it. Depriving Damion of his country, his safety and even of the basic physical necessities only made him wish for an end to his pain, but destroying his sense of personal power, taking away Manny and making him carry on… that was a pain he would have to endure forever. He tried not to think about it, not while he was still in this place. He might be joining Manny in a little while after all. The thought was strangely comforting.
Audrey stirred against him, waking. He wished he could see her open her eyes, those dark, beautiful brown eyes and see his reflection there. He was a little afraid of what he must look like after being beaten, sleep deprived and starved, but he wanted to see her. He knew she must be beyond beautiful, something to continue living for. What did she feel for him? He was having trouble processing the way she had touched him and comforted him in what he considered last night. Affection was something he had wanted from her for so long, something he had hoped he would receive upon going home after reading her letters, but his heart was overwhelmed by the reality. If this was real, he never wanted to give it up. The only thing that poisoned it was the thought of Gardiner touching her, his wife.
The thought infuriated him, but Gardiner also terrified him. And he hated that. He was frightened of a man he wanted to murder. If he was rescued, he would see the man killed. It would be justice. His whole body was in such pain, his mind distracted, and the girl in his arms had suffered so that he could suffer more. If anything was to be set right, it would have to begin by Gardiner's death, for Manny and himself and Audrey as well as the thousands of people who had lost so much because of the war out there on the plain. It was Gardiner's fault, and he would pay. He almost hoped the man came in the room to kill him. With his hands loose…
"Damion, what are you thinking about?"
Her cool hands touched on his neck and he breathed in quietly, calming himself. "Nothing," he said. "I'm just thinking what to do next."
She curled her legs up, huddling against his chest, seeking warmth. Her weight hurt him a little bit, in the places where he had been kicked most often, but he ignored it. Having her in his arms compensated for the discomfort, but he could not bring himself to kiss her, not in this place, not as a beaten and bloodied prisoner awaiting death. And then there was the thought of her in Gardiner's arms, in his bed, with his hands and mouth on her body, anywhere he liked. The image of them having sex infuriated and suffocated him. It was enough for him to abruptly push her away and try to stand up, tormented.
"Damion," she said, getting to her feet with him, her hands supporting him by his ribs. He bit back the pain that pressure caused and used her body and the wall to balance himself on his feet. His muscles, unused for several days, groaned in protest, but he managed to stand, leaning back against the wall weakly. Frustrated, he laughed, wheezing from the effort.
She lifted her hand from his chest and stroked his face, smoothing his hair and caressing his cheeks. "All right," she said quietly. "You're up. Try walking."
He realized she wasn't ashamed of him in this pathetic state. For a moment he just stood in the darkness, angry and ashamed of himself and confused by her dismissal of it. He couldn't say anything. There was nothing to do but try to recover. Gripping her wrists, he pulled her hands down and held on to her like she was a bar to hold him up, taking a few shaky steps forward. The blood rushed into his legs as he moved, and also rushed out of his head. Suddenly so dizzy the world flipped and blurred together, he stopped moving, waiting for his vision to clear, not that he could see anything anyway. Slowly, things evened out again, though he still felt weak and shaky. When he stood firmly on both feet again, Audrey ducked under his arm, standing beside him so that his arm draped over her slender shoulders. He felt old and decrepit and useless, but bit his tongue and kept working the feeling back into his legs. Eventually he was able to pull away from her and walk on his own. She let him go, standing perfectly still.
He had never explored the room before. There wasn't much to explore. The dimensions he knew from when the door opened and light flooded the room. For practice he walked from corner to corner, trying not to think that this was a cage and he couldn't get out if tried.
"Damion?" Her voice was frightened in the darkness. He had left her alone.
He made his way back and touched her hand, pressing his fingers into her palm until she squeezed them. "How long was I asleep?" he asked her. "I feel worlds better."
"I don't know," Audrey said. "I fell asleep too, but it feels like hours doesn't it? He should have come back by now."
"When he comes," Damion said simply. "I'll kill him and you can escape."
"No," she protested, sounding aghast.
He didn't understand. "What do you mean 'no?' " he asked. She wanted to spare Gardiner's life? He tensed up. Maybe that was not what she meant, maybe she thought that when he said she would escape, he meant that he might die. Well, he might, but…
She touched his arm and he had the impression she was trying to look into his face to read his thoughts. "Damion, don't say things like that."
"I don't want to die," he said, hoping she meant the latter. "Maybe I won't. Maybe he won't bring that many guards. If I move quickly enough I can probably kill a few…"
"Damion," she breathed sharply. "Stop. Stop talking like that. You don't kill people."
That was what she was objecting to? He almost laughed. "Yes I do," he said calmly. "What? You don't think I can?" Then it made sense. Of course she knew he was able to kill, but the nice, sweet Prince Damion she knew would certainly try to avoid that all costs. "Audrey, we've run out of options."
"No," she said. "Wait for Heero. He…"
"Heero?" he interjected sharply. "It would be nice if he came, but I'm not sure what he can do by himself that I can't, even if he has more training and I…"
She sounded distressed. "He's a gundam pilot and he has friends, and weapons! You're talking crazy. I think I understand, but please just wait. They could be here soon and then we can all go home and forget about this."
For a moment he didn't say anything. "I won't forget about this," he said at last in a very quiet voice. "I won't forget what I endured here. I won't forget what he did to you, to us. I won't forget Manny. I can't."
"Damion…" She sounded choked up with tears. He didn't mean to make her cry.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I already killed a man. I snapped his neck in two."
For a moment he thought she had stopped breathing. Then she spoke, soothingly. "It's okay," she whispered, as if trying to comfort him. "You…"
"Oh, I know," he interrupted curtly, but in almost a normal, accepting tone of voice. "You don't understand. I don't care that I killed him. I only wish I could have made it last longer. When I saw that bullet go through Manny's face I could have killed ten more just like him and still not given a damn. Manny was shot because he was in the way. I'll never forget that."
She began to cry and at first he didn't understand. Then he wondered if maybe she hadn't known about Manny, or if it was still very new to her. For some reason, he felt like he had accepted it and was ready to forget Manny ever existed despite what he had just said, but somewhere deep down he knew he wasn't really dealing with it all. It was too painful to think about too long. All he wanted to do was make the people responsible suffer.
But he didn't mean to hurt her. "I'm sorry, Audrey. Did you know?" She was crying, shaking and holding herself. "You didn't know. I'm sorry." He tried to be comforting, to soften the harshness of the way he had revealed such terrible news. "I saw it happen," he said quietly. "He died quickly if that…"
"Don't try to comfort me!" she half-yelled at him, and his mouth parted in surprise at the way her voice assailed his ears. She sniffed and lowered her voice to a harsh, tear-filled whisper. "Can you listen to yourself? Manny was your best friend in the whole world. You lived by what he did for you. Don't pretend you don't care!"
"I do care," he said, amazed. "I'm really upset about it." But it sounded hollow even to him.
She made a sound like a hushed cry and then he felt her step into him, burying her head against his shoulder. His arms went around her mechanically, rubbing her back as her tears fell from her eyes and her shoulders shook. He wasn't sure if she was crying for Manny or him or herself. He didn't understand much of anything and didn't know how he felt. But he knew if he thought too much about it he wouldn't be able to think about anything else and he needed to keep his wits about him if he was going to be able to kill Gardiner.
*****
Julia lay sprawled in the red satin bed sheets and didn't bother to look for her clothes. She had always liked the feel of satin on her bare skin, and the color was perfect for her complexion. She was still reveling in a rare, warm afterglow, trying to gather her thoughts and settle on the best resolve.
Her determination and end course were completely unaffected by great sex. It made no difference to her whatsoever, other than that the distraction had been enjoyable as well as necessary. That she loathed the man made no difference either. This was business, nothing personal.
He looked a lot more harmless sleeping. It was to his benefit and her abstract misfortune that he was an attractive man with an appealing voice and very nice hands. Surprisingly gentle hands, really. She hadn't expected him to be at all gentle, but their lovemaking almost felt like its namesake, save that it lacked the necessary emotions. He had a very complex personality, hard and logical to blindness one minute and then brilliant and almost sensitive the next. She could see how Audrey had fallen victim to him without knowing what he was really like. Not all of the sex in the past few hours had been that gentle. But knowledge was power and she was no victim. She knew what she was doing and that gave her an edge as well as the necessary detachment.
Still, it was surprising the way he had been able to control her. That rarely happened, ever actually, or not since she was very young and naïve. Of course, her desperation on Damion's behalf gave him the upper hand and he knew it. Though she had no difficulty reading him, he seemed able to read her too, and that made things more difficult. She knew it also contributed to how he was able to pleasure her so well, but that was hardly any compensation after the moment. What she did, she did for Damion or she wouldn't be here. She didn't expect Damion to understand if he ever found out. There was no reason to tell him and no reason he should have to understand. She had been doing this for her own benefit for years and he knew it. Other than being personally involved, knowledge of this should neither surprise him nor affect him.
Abel sat up suddenly, opening his eyes and reaching for his cigarettes by the bed. She noted the brand name and how many were left in the pack absently. Leaning against the headboard with his knees propped up and his chest bare to the waist where the blankets covered him, he lit one cigarette, took a puff and turned his head to smile at her. He looked positively pleased. As he should, she told herself, considering.
She propped herself up on one elbow, letting her hair fall in a curled, golden glittering tangle about her arm and neck. She smiled at him too, though her thoughts roamed elsewhere.
"Well," Abel said, raising his eyebrows in a pleased and satisfied way. Then he laughed. "I enjoyed myself. Did you?"
"Do you care?" she murmured.
"Of course," he said assertively around his cigarette. "Men who don't have the principle of the thing all wrong. It satisfies my ego to see a girl satisfied. Otherwise, it's not as much fun."
He certainly was very frank about things, a stark contrast to her guile. She supposed it was best to reflect his personality quirk, though it was unlike the way she had conditioned herself to be for many years. "I did," she said. "Surprisingly so."
"Why a surprise?" he asked. "I know the rest of the world thinks I'm a villain, but you know a very great man, whether good or evil, must also have a great intellect, and I'm smart enough to know the benefits of paying high attention to details and giving payment where payment is due." He smiled at her in such a way that she couldn't help smiling back, as if he was sharing a secret with her. "You," he said, "are a very great woman. And dangerous too. I don't think I would have had as good of a time otherwise."
Well that was an interesting statement, but she didn't comment on it. "Do you think you're a villain?" she asked him in a cool, soft voice.
"No," he said simply. "But if you disagree with anyone strongly enough they are certain to hate you. I say a lot of things people disagree strongly with."
Strange how people never figured themselves to be truly bad no matter what their crimes. "About anarchy?" she asked.
He settled back against the pillows with a luxurious sigh. "That's a simple term, my dear. I don't like public officials. I don't like the way they argue, I don't like their system of government and I don't like the way they don't get anything done. I don't like the way a system of government such as most places have is practically designed to make the non-political part of a society ignorant and lazy. I also don't like how the people in power are always the worst sort of people pretending to be righteous and out to save everyone. They're fucking morons. People turn a blind eye to the bullshit that goes on in the political process, but people in power are always most corrupt than most criminals. That's an elective government."
"And the other kind?"
"Oh, you mean like your prince? That sort is worse then the rest. Do you think "born" rulers like him know what they're doing? Most are either pampered fools or tyrants. They don't know anything about the real world. I've seen them spend money like its water and order people around like it's some god-given right. They have privileges no one should have. They're not only very wealthy, but adored by everyone for titles that are given to them instead of earned. They don't notice how it is for the rest of the world. He doesn't understand where I come from or what I've been through to have what I have." Abel turned onto his elbow and looked straight into her eyes, smiling almost sweetly. "Do you know that if I wanted to, I could take care of a lady like you?"
She just looked at him, sensing a hypothetical point.
He laughed. "Ladies like you don't want a man like me," he explained. "It's not that I couldn't give you the things you're used to. It's not even my personality. It's the name. I don't have a name that people look up to. No one says 'ah, Mr. Gardiner, what an honor.' That's what Clara told me. 'You're a nobody, Abel. I want a prince.' She would sit all dainty and princess-like on a stool in front of her vanity and brush her hair, wearing whatever she liked around me because she knew that I knew I could never have her."
"You wanted Clara?" Julia asked, intrigued by his tone and the look in his eyes. "Did you love her?"
His brown eyes glinted under his reddish-brown locks. "I've never loved anybody. I'm not the type who can fall in love. That isn't the point. The point is that she wouldn't have me even if I did love her, even if she liked me, even if I could give her all the things she wanted."
She wondered whether or not she should believe him, though he certainly seemed convinced of it himself. "Clara was more than a little silly," Julia said, lowering her eyelashes and looking up at him from an angle.
He seemed to be studying her face, smiling that knowing smile that so irritated her. "Did you know her?"
"Yes."
His eyes flickered to the side of the room. "She said she was always in love with Damion," Abel said. "Did you know about that?"
"Of course," she replied. "Everyone knew that. She was absolutely atrocious about it. A very sweet girl once, but uncommonly blinded by her ambitions and desires. Spiteful and aggressive. That's probably why you liked her."
"Very funny," he said. "But then, here you are." He smiled at her. "But you want something. Is it him?"
"No," she said. "I too, am not the type to fall in love."
He chuckled. "No, I can certainly see that."
"You said the ladies won't have you," she murmured. "But then there's me. And Audrey. Perhaps others as well. Didn't you have Audrey?"
He tilted his head, looking impressed. "Yes. Yes I did. You must have researched my entire life before you came up here." His eyes sparkled. "Find anything frightening?"
"Not your whole life," she told him. "Just what I could find out in the circles where I am known."
He almost seemed disappointed. "Well that won't be too much," he said. "Yes, I had Audrey."
"And that doesn't count?"
"Count? I'm not keeping score. Besides, she didn't know who I was. That was a very sophisticated party for upper class people and I had to sneak in. It was only by luck I heard she would be there. And you're wrong about others. One lady was desperate, cold as an ice cube and drunk as a fish. The other is trying to manipulate me."
She blinked lazily at him and sat up, letting the covers fall off her body. His gaze never flickered, but he traced her form with a familiarity that was almost disturbing, except that, of course, it really wasn't. Still, it annoyed her. She was growing tired of this game, tired of him paining himself in as righteous a light as the people he claimed to despise. "You went to that party with the intention to rape her, though. This," she whispered into his ear. "His consensual."
His brown eyes widened as he jerked back to stare at her. He looked positively shocked. She blinked at him, intrigued by his reaction. "Rape?" he said with a half-scandalized tone. "You're misinformed. I never raped anybody. She agreed."
She raised her eyebrows. "You mean she didn't push you off of her and start crying in the middle, so it was therefore not rape?"
He scowled. "No. Of course there was nothing like that, but it wasn't rape or date rape or anything of the kind. She was nervous and edgy, but she did consent." He frowned. "I guess when it came to the point she was a little more unsure, but she still accepted. Either way, it wasn't rape. And I was careful with her."
Technically it could be considered rape if either party was intoxicated and "unsure," but it was pointless to argue something so ambivalent. She was more curious as to his righteousness in the matter. He didn't lie about what happened, but he seemed to accept no fault either. "You don't rape girls," she repeated his statement flatly.
"No. Never."
"But you do murder people?"
"No." He sounded almost more indignant if that were possible. "No, I haven't ever killed anyone. What are you saying? Where did you hear I had?"
She could scarcely believe it. She searched his face for a hint of mockery or amusement, a sign that this was a game he might be playing with her like they had played a few hours before, but found nothing. There was no smile at the corner of his lips and no gleam in his eye. If anything, he looked offended. He was being honest. Horribly, inconceivably honest.
She rested her head on her hand again and tried to draw it out of him by being as casual as possible. "What about all the people you ordered killed? All the people who were murdered in Camadrie, the fighting, the lawlessness, the blood that was shed? Surely you remember giving speeches advocating such things."
"No," he said, and she could do nothing but stare at him, again surprised. "Don't look at me like that. I'm not crazy. Of course I remember giving speeches and being in Camadrie. I talked against politics and government, but I didn't order anyone murdered. I know quite a few people were killed."
"Because people declared anarchy."
"They're idiots," he said. "That's not my fault."
She shook her head. "Abel, all that happened out there is because of you. You have an army of men who do whatever you say and you've been quoted ordering people shot and cities burned and laws broken…"
He turned his head away, blinking his eyes rapidly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I don't remember anything like that. There are some people who guard me, but that's all."
Slowly, she sat up, unable to turn her head away. He refused to look at her, staring into space and looking of all things, highly disconcerted. He didn't remember…? Slowly, a disturbing idea began to take shape in her head, but she could scarcely reconcile with it.
When he spoke again, he seemed to have fallen back into that amused and relaxed state of mind she was now familiar with. "Come on, let's not talk about this. Have you ever been to Italy? I would love to take you there sometime. They have some very nice shops where… What?" he interrupted himself crossly, taking note of her reaction to his words. "I know these are just games and you're here for that prince of yours, but I'm just saying I like you and I would like to take a lady like you somewhere. You can say no if you don't want to go."
For a full minute she could only stare at him, trying to make sense of his psyche. "You do remember Damion?"
He looked so confused by her confusion. "Of course. He's locked under this house with Audrey."
"And that is acceptable by you? Kidnapping is not on a level with rape and murder and rabble rousing?"
He scowled. "There you go again. I am not guilty of any of those except the kidnapping, I suppose, but I have a personal score to settle with him. He's responsible for a lot of shit that's happened to me, including Clara. I hate him. But I didn't murder anyone."
"I thought you were going to kill him in an hour or two?"
He shrugged. "Well I really oughtn't leave him alive."
"You just said you don't kill people."
He eyed her like she was the one who sounded crazy. "No, but there's lots of other men here that do."
She couldn't believe this. "And you don't consider that murder?"
"Well, they want him dead too," Abel explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I don't say 'go, kill him' I say 'I'm done keeping him alive. He's all yours now.' " He took another drag of his cigarette and leaned his head against the pillows, settling down on the bed.
"How have you treated him? Or allowed him to be treated?"
He looked up at the ceiling. "Nosy, aren't you?" He smiled. "I like an aggressive woman. I didn't want him sleeping, so I asked them to keep him awake. You have to understand how wild he was when we first brought him in. He was hardly intelligible and we didn't have any drugs to calm him down so I had to improvise." He shook his head, looking annoyed. "I could have fucking killed the bastard who almost killed him, though. I hate princes, especially that one. I don't mind if he gets a little banged up, but not killed for something so fucking stupid." He shrugged almost apologetically. "I really did want to blind him, but that's only because I lost my temper." He blew smoke out his nose and looked at her.
"Abel," she said. "Are you sure you don't remember doing violence to anyone?"
"I'm sure. I wasn't going to really hurt him, you know."
Julia kept her expression straight, but her mind whirled. She had proof of other things, times Abel Gardiner had gone wild and then ordered men shot for no reason, times when he had told his followers to burn cities to the ground, kill anyone who got in their way. She had learned from the men in this complex that he had threatened cutting out Damion's eyes and had only retracted from the act by a sudden and startling change of mind.
"Do you remember threatening to gouge out his eyes with a knife?"
For a moment it appeared as if he stopped breathing. "No," he said almost too quickly.
She could feel the way her features had scrunched in confusion. Her eyebrows were starting to hurt. "It happened only a few hours ago, Abel."
For a second he was silent, but she could almost hear him thinking. Abruptly he sneered, his features contorting as he jabbed the butt of his cigarette onto the desk beside him. "I wanted to frighten him," he said after almost a minute. The words came out like a hastily constructed lie. Julia had always been able to spot one. "That was when…" he frowned, as if trying to remember. "Something happened in Camadrie. I was furious with him."
She would need more time to understand this. Quickly, she made up her mind. The warning dropped from her lips heavily. "The Preventors and peace-keeping forces will be here soon," she said. "If you don't want to be caught and killed, we had better get dressed and depart."
The way he suddenly looked at her caused her to draw in her breath sharply. His expression shattered her façade. The intelligence in his eyes seemed to rip apart all of her hidden motives, to unbury her secrets and hang them up on display. She stared back at him, returning the dissecting glare, assertive and calm outwardly and terrified inside. Frozen, they locked gazes, waiting for the other to look away first. Neither moved.
"Why tell me that?" he asked, still staring at her almost balefully.
"I don't want Damion to kill you," she said. "Get dressed."
He smiled at her and then got out of bed, hardly ashamed of his state of undress. "Are you sure you're not the type to fall in love?"
"I'm sure," she said.
*****
Duo sat on the hood of the truck, watching Heero as he pulled Relena aside in the fading night and took her out a little ways away were the rest of the team couldn't hear them talking. Standing there with the dawn behind them and his fingers under her chin, they looked like a couple confessing their love, but Duo knew Heero had dragged Relena out there to convince her to wait behind for them. He could tell by the way she stood, with her long hair falling behind her back and her arms tense from the shoulders to the wrists, that Heero wasn't winning. Funny, Heero used to always win. Duo made a note that it was dangerous to get married.
Duo smiled to himself. It calmed him, watching them together in times like these, like a sparkle of light in the darkness. He had already cleaned his gun and arrayed himself in all the materials he hoped he would need for this raid, but there was always that bit of anxiety right before the beginning of a mission, and seeing them together always made him happy. Seeing Hilde even over the video communicator made him happy too. He supposed it was time to stop playing games and being unsure with her. Either they would try it for real or go their separate ways. He wanted to give it a try.
Relena shouldn't come, though. He knew that. She would distract Heero being there, distract everyone, and if anything happened to her… He knew she was a strong girl, a strong person, but she was still a girl and she was weaker then the rest of them. She couldn't run that fast. She knew hardly anything about combat. She had the spirit of a fighter but not the training, and Heero had won the argument about her holding guns. She had promised not to do it anymore.
At length, Heero pulled her close and she rested her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his back. The shadows their bodies made in the dim light melded into one. Discreetly, Heero lifted her chin again and kissed her. Duo looked away, knowing how private they were most of the time. Very reserved people were Heero and Relena, at least in public, and he suspected in private too. But they loved each other and sometimes that overcame their shyness in stressful situations. He still remembered when Heero was awkward about even admitting he had feelings for the princess. That seemed like ages ago, another time and place.
Heero took out his gun and began speaking very quietly, showing Relena something. She kept nodding, her head lowered, but Heero didn't give the gun to her. Of course not. Maybe he was explaining how to use if she absolutely had to, though she already had once. Still, Duo knew that Heero would do everything in his power to keep that from happening again.
When they eventually strolled back together, side by side, Duo swallowed a sigh. She was coming. Their eyes looked identical, eerily so. God must have hand-fashioned a girl like Relena for Heero. There was no other way in Duo's mind that a boy like Heero would ever have found anyone who could stand him, much less love him and relate to him so strongly. And he didn't even really believe in God. He believed in Death. But he supposed everybody believed in death.
"Are we ready?" Trowa murmured by his side.
"I think so," Duo said, resting his wrist on his knee. "I hope we're successful."
"You mean that we find Damion alive or that we remain alive doing it?"
"Both," Duo said.
But like any mission it was possible he might meet either God or Death tonight.