Disclaimer – If you recognise it… I don't own it.

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Duo's POV

I couldn't remember much at first. I didn't know what had happened.

And I don't recall much from those first few… What? Hours? Days? I don't know.

A snatch of music.

A murmur of a voice.

The beep of a machine.

Slowly things became easier to remember. I became more aware.

The music became tunes. The tunes became songs.

The murmurs became words. The words became sentences.

Surprisingly the first voice I remember hearing the words of was Trowa's.

"I thought I made you promise to take care of yourself?" Trowa sighed, his voice quiet. "I don't call nearly dying on us, taking care of yourself, Duo. You have to come back."

I couldn't remember why I had nearly died. I could barely remember the promise. Never mind why I had made it.

But if I had made it. Then I had to keep it.

Up until then, it had been curiosity that had brought me back. I never did know when to leave something well enough alone.

Funnily it was when I heard the song 'Concrete Angel' that I remembered what had happened. I always understood that song. Some people only hear the tune. Others grieve for the little girl. I smile for her. She's happy at last. And I understand how she feels. She's free.

That was when I stopped fighting. I started to let myself sink back. My promise didn't mean I had to fight my way back. Just that I keep myself as safe as possible. I was still allowed to die.

And what did I have to live for? They didn't need me. They were safe. I didn't… have to protect them anymore.

"Please," Wufei whispered, his voice pleading, "Come back to us, Duo. We can't cope without you. We're broken, unless you come back to us. We need you."

There was a tone in his voice. A tone that I'd only ever heard once before. And that was a long time ago. And the voice wasn't Wufei's. It was from a child. A very young child. Who didn't even have a name. But that didn't matter. He was begging for the only older brother he'd ever known to live.

It broke his heart when he died… Broke my heart. Solo dying, nearly killed me.

I couldn't do that to the others. I didn't want to hear that tone of voice again… Ever.

I had two choices. I could either let myself slip away. Or I could fight… With no guarantee that I would manage to make it back to the others.

"Please, Duo." Wufei repeated, "You have to wake up."

That clinched it. Hearing that tone again was not going to happen. I would not hear it again. Not while I could still fight.

I don't know how long it took me. I slept a great deal. But I did fight.

I don't think the others realized. I don't think they knew.

But slowly I became more aware. First smell came back to me. And it was Quatre that first let me smell something other than hospital. Quatre is all desert and heat. And mint. Cool, refreshing mint.

Anything was better than antiseptic and the sick smell that hospital beds accumulate by that point.

And smelling Quatre… That brought back some memories. Some good… Some not so good. The desert wasn't always happy for me.

The next sense was taste. As I discovered when they poured… literally poured… a meal drink down my throat. It was strawberry flavoured.

Touch and sight almost came back simultaneously. Not that I could open my eyes. Only sense the changing light levels through closed lids. I just couldn't summon the strength to open my eyes. It was frustrating.

It was also confusing. The feather-light touches were almost alien to me. Especially when it was Heero performing them… Yes, they had touched me almost like this in the hospital before and even at Quatre's place… And Quatre always had touched me gently.

But they had never touched me as if I were made of glass. As if I would break. And it scared me.

They never discussed how seriously I was hurt where I could hear. So all I had to go on where what I could feel and how they treated me. And how I felt wasn't much on the pain front, but I guessed that was the medications' fault…

But if they were treating me like glass… Then I was not doing well.

I was trying to fight. But I wasn't making much progress.

I couldn't open my eyes. I couldn't move. I couldn't twitch. I couldn't talk. I couldn't even clear my throat… Flare my nostrils… Alter my breathing rhythm.

I was trapped.

I nearly gave up hope there and then when I realized.

I don't know how long passed between my periods of consciousness. It could have been hours, days, weeks, months… or even years.

I had no way of telling.

Then I heard voices. People telling each other to move me carefully… But it wasn't the others' voices.

I felt hands move me. Lifting and carrying… But they weren't my brothers' hands… I could tell. They were gentle… But they weren't caring. It was just a job to them… I was just a job to them.

"What's gonna happen to him?"

"Your orders are to transport him. You only need to know your destination."

I stopped fighting… What was the point?

If I was being moved… Then the others didn't want to see me anymore. Or they would have moved me themselves. Or at the very least Sally would have overseen it.

They didn't need me.

They didn't want me. And that hurt. Because I still wanted to be wanted by them.

So I stopped fighting. And my senses once again began to fade away from me.

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It was the drums that got through to me. The drums and the trumpets. First the drums. Then the trumpets. Bright, brassy notes. Music that I know intimately.

It's the "Fanfare For The Common Man". All trumpets and drums.

It's the piece of music I always used to play before a planned fight. It's not loud. It's not violent. It's just music. Beautiful music. It inspires me. It reminds me of why I fought.

I clung on to my awareness. I wanted to hear it. I wanted to… I had to hear it out. So I stopped sinking back into oblivion. I made myself stay aware and awake.

It ended. And another piece began. Bagpipes leading the way. The "March of Cambreadth". Another piece of my "Battle Music".

Whoever it was that had chosen this music… They knew me.

And they knew me well.

It was just after the third verse, in the instrumental that the person spoke.

"Hey kid," I knew the voice, but I couldn't remember who it was, "You've gotta fight this. Your brothers are in trouble. Big trouble. And you're the only one who can get them outta it. They need ya."

I trusted the voice. I didn't know who it was. But I knew that I trusted them. So I believed them. My brothers were in trouble.

I started to fight again.

I will never be sure whether it was because I had something more definitive to fight for, my brother's safety, or because I was stronger… But I regained the ground I had lost very quickly.

But I still couldn't move.

I stopped letting myself fall back into slumber. Fighting against exhaustion. Fighting against rest. I fought with every fibre in my body.

"Come on kid." I heard the voice again. I didn't know how long it had been. But my Battle Music was still playing. It had never stopped. "Give me a sign you're in there. Tell me that you can hear me. Come on. Twitch your fingers or something."

I tried. I really did. But my fingers felt like they were in the world's stiffest pair of gloves.

But there's always another way. So I tried to speak.

Instinct and habit, made me lick my dry lips first.

"You back, kid?" The voice asked.

"Tell you later?" I croaked.

"Come on, kid." The voice chided, "Open those baby blues for me, will ya?"

"You colour blind?" I asked opening them. "They're violet, Snowman."

I only needed to see him to know who it was. Cletus Snow used to be a Sweeper… But he quit. Long before I joined. But he still kept in touch. In fact, during the War, he often helped me get from A to B, with my Buddy. Very few people knew that I was Pilot Oh-Two. Outside the others, Sally, Howie, Zechs, Noin, Lady Une, Relena and the other Conspirators, there was only really Snowman, the Bandit, Frog and the Duke Boys (of course, that meant that Uncle Jesse knew, as did Daisy and Cooter)… Oh and a few trusted Sweepers, like Josiah… And a few guys I always thought suspected, but they never asked.

Snowman… He's a good friend.

"Well," Snowman smiled, "I ain't seen them in so long, I can be forgiven for not remembering."

"Sorry." I breathed.

"That's alright, kid. Get some rest."

"The others?" I demanded.

"The situation will still be the same tomorrow. You've been out of it for a while."

"How long?" I didn't know. And I was scared. How long had I missed? Anything could have happened.

"Bit over a month kid." Snowman whispered, "And nothing is life-threatening. You can fix the problem tomorrow. I promise."

I couldn't fight my exhaustion any longer. I fell asleep, Snowman still holding my hand.

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When I woke up. I wasn't alone. And my Battle Music was still playing. I did wonder how I had managed to sleep through it.

It wasn't just Snowman in my room either. At some point he'd been joined by his usual partners in crime: the Bandit and Frog.

The fourth person, though. He wasn't one of the Bandit's crew. But I knew him.

"Nate?" I managed to get out.

"Drink some water," Nate held out a cup with a straw for me, "And take it easy."

"I'm fine." I argued.

"Do I need to recite to you the definition of 'fine'?" Nate argued.

Never argue with Nate. His actual name is Nathan. He's an old friend of Josiah's. Used to be an Army EMT.

Not Alliance. Just regular Army. Then Rebel.

His call-sign was 'Healer'. So when he got his handle, it was 'Saint Healer'.

He's patched me up a few times. Back when I was with Howie and the Sweepers. He helped me out during the War too.

Unlike Quatre, I didn't have a group of loyal men to obey my every command. Unlike Trowa, I didn't have a suitable cover that allowed me to move as I willed, still bringing my buddy with me, and also get help with other stuff. Unlike Wufei, I didn't have the money to buy what I needed… And Heero? Well, between what Dr J sent him and the things he stole, he could get anywhere and get anything.

All I had was a network of contacts. No guarantee that any of them would help… Yet there was always someone. Nate and Josiah had a handful of friends who sheltered me for a while. If they ever knew who and what they were sheltering; they never said. And they never asked either.

Truckers are almost anarchist by nature. We never liked the Alliance. We hated OZ. And we just about tolerate the UESN…

We don't really care who is in charge. As long as they don't try and control us.

Nate's put up with a lot people who have told him they're fine, when really half their arm is falling off. He's gotten a little annoyed about it.

"Alright," I managed to get out, "How bad is it? And when can I go help my brothers? And what trouble are they in?"

"The Legal kind," the Bandit drawled, "They're trying to prosecute the Mountain Lions. Only they're angels if ya listen to the Public. The trial ain't going down too well. They've gotten some support from us, and a few people are starting to believe that it is possible that the Lions ain't all sweetness and light…"

"Only it ain't enough." Frog took over, "We gotta a guy who's been listening and watching. The Jury aren't convinced. "

"They need something that can't be rejected." Snowman declared, "We need something irrefutable… Or they're just gonna turn around lock ya up and start to prosecute your running partners for something."

"You need me." I closed my eyes.

"How much can you move?" Nate asked, "I've detached your IV and catheter, so you're basically free."

"How bad was I hurt?" I asked, staring right into his brown eyes.

"Pretty bad kid." Nate shrugged, "But you've had some good care. I'd personally like to tie you down to that bed for another three months, at least. Until you'd put some meat on your bones… But that'll never happen. So you're going to have to look after yourself."

Nate has never pulled his punches. But he doesn't always tell you just how bad it is either.

"Let's see how you're running." Snowman suggested.

I waited for Nathan's nod, before I tried to move. I was already propped up in the bed, so I didn't have to sit up.

I checked each muscle that I could. My toes, feet and legs were fine. A little stiff, but that was probably lack of use. I knew they would be weak when I tried to walk.

My arms worked fine. My torso moved where I wanted it to. And there was no problem with my neck or facial muscles.

The problem was with my hands. I could barely move them. My fingers twitched slightly as I tried to move them. But apart from that… They might as well have not been my hands.

I stared at them. White bandages around the wrists. Old scars hidden by the paleness of my skin.

I frowned at them, as I willed them to close. Slowly they obeyed. But it felt like I was straining against a massive weight. It felt like I was trying to crush a stone. It felt like Heero was pulling against me… But not using his full strength.

I opened them again. This time it felt like I was pushing against something.

I repeated the action several times. Each time I found I could complete the action faster. But it wasn't any easier. I was simply learning how much effort it required… And learning that if I wanted to move my fingers I had to concentrate on them. It wasn't instinctive.

But I wouldn't need my hands for what I had to do. I only needed my voice and my brain.

"I can move." I declared, "Let's see if I can walk."

"Frog, out." Snowman ordered.

"But…!" She protested

"I'm sure the Kid doesn't want you to see his butt." Snowman pointed out, "You can come back in, when he's back in the bed. Or decently dressed."

I hate hospitals. And I hate hospital gowns as well. They ought to be banned.

Frog left, and Snowman helped me down from the bed. Much to my surprise, my stay in a hospital bed, hadn't made my muscles atrophy too much. I actually managed to walk the length of the room and half-way back to the bed again, before my legs gave way.

Nate and Snowman caught me before I hit the floor. With Bandit's help, they managed to get me back into the bed. The Frog came in, when Bandit called her.

I reached up and touched my face with my fingertips. It felt like someone else was touching me. I couldn't feel anything in my hands.

"Why aren't there alarms going off?" I asked, staring at my heart monitor, which was definitely not reporting my current heart rate. My heart was beating at least double time.

No one answered. At least not verbally, but the smirk on Frog's face and the screwdriver she was flipping in her hands answered my question.

"You always were a smart one, Frog." I grinned at her.

"It wasn't too hard." Frog laughed.

"How far away are we?" I asked. I didn't have to elaborate. They understood.

"Nine days drive." Nate replied, "Though I would prefer that you wait two days. Get a bit more strength up."

"I don't have the time." I retorted, "Four and a half days."

"That's impossible!" Nate was shocked, "It would need a miracle."

"From here to Central Sanq in a hundred and eight hours? That ain't never been done before." Bandit pointed out to me.

"That's cause you ain't never done it." I countered, "You gotta stop thinking so negative. I know your rep."

"The kid is right." Snowman shrugged, "That's our rep."

"We've got a long way to go," I stated, "And a short time to get there."

"We're gonna do, what they say can't be done." Bandit finished the quote for me, "You think we can make it?"

"Course we can make it," I snorted, "You ain't never not made it yet, have ya?"

"We'd better do a switch of our usual method," Snowman frowned, "The Frog and I will block, while Bandit takes the trans-am."

"You can't do that!" Nate protested, "Your rigs won't move fast enough."

"We'll find a way." Snowman stated, "Bandit, Frog, you go outside. We can't smuggle the Kid out easily. He'll come out through the window. Bandit, you're catcher. Frog, deal with the cameras. I'll get the Kid sorted."

"I'll get you some pain-killers." Nate followed the others out the room.

Snowman picked up a bag from the corner.

"You can't dress yourself, can you?" He asked rhetorically.

"No." I shook my head, eyes closed against the stinging tears.

"Let me help you." He instructed.

"Alright." I agreed, before balking at the white fabric he removed from the bag, "Oh hell no!"

"It's this or scrubs." Snowman countered, holding up the clothing. A white Milkybar Kid shirt.

"Okay." I conceded after a moment's pause. "Am I to assume that the full outfit is present in there?"

"Yeah," Snowman grinned unrepentantly, "Come on, Kid. We've been trying for over half your life!"

"Couldn't I wear the other one?"

"No." Snowman smirked, "I'll give you a hand."

Well, it wasn't so much a hand, as he basically dressed me.

Before he went to put the hat on my head, he reached out and touched my braid gently.

"It's a mess." He told me, "Close your eyes. I'll fix it. Imagine I'm anyone you like."

Snowman knows that I don't count him close enough to touch my hair. He's a great friend… But he's not family. However I didn't really have a choice. I couldn't do it myself. I had no one I would be normally willing to let do it. And I couldn't leave it as it was. Snowman was the best choice around. So I let him.

My mind drifted. I ignored the gentle tugs and pulls as he carefully rearranged my hair.

"Done." He placed the hat on my head. Then he stared me straight in the eyes.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Will the mask hold?"

"What?"

"You're pretending. You always have. And I could always see it. But what I don't know is whether your mask is strong enough to survive this. You can't let them see how much you're hurting. That's your advantage right now. They don't know the full extent of your pains. You can't let anyone find out."

"I know." I nodded.

"It's a lot to ask of you, I know. But will it hold?"

"It's got to." I choked back the tears. Boys don't cry. Not for themselves. Tears only get your face wet.

Nate came in, interrupting the moment.

"Alright," He sighed, "Now, I checked. You don't tolerate Morphine well. And Fentanyl takes double doses to even touch your pain… Oxycodone is the best option for you."

"Yeah, I know, I'm a pain." I chuckled.

"I can't get you any of the controlled drugs," Nate stated, "So I'm afraid it's back to the basics."

"Calpol and Nurofen?" I asked.

"Paracetamol and Ibuprofen." Nate nodded, "Both in liquid form as you seem to tolerate it better. Also has faster delivery. Don't exceed the maximum doses."

"Yadda, yadda, yaddah." I interrupted, "I know, Nate. And I won't. I promise. I won't disobey the dosages."

"Good." Nate took in the outfit, "About time you wore that."

"Nate!" I sighed exasperatedly.

"It could have been worse, kid," Nate shrugged, "They could have made you wear the Space Prince one."

"Oh, hell no!" I breathed, "That thing looked horrible! At least this thing has guns."

"Water-pistols, Kid," Snowman laughed, "Water-pistols. Like hell I was giving you a gun."

"How is he getting out of here?" Nate asked, "It was hard enough getting in!"

"You don't work here?" I frowned slightly.

"My wife does." Nate replied.

"Wife?"

"Married her about a year ago." Nate smiled, "You missed a lot, Duo."

"I know." I nodded, "I didn't have a choice, Nate."

"You always had a choice, Kid." Snowman pulled me into a loose hug, "You just didn't see the angles. We would have helped you. We would have protected you. We would have hidden you."

"And what about the others?" I argued.

"We would have found a way." Snowman assured me. "But that is the past. We'll leave it there. We'll help you from here."

"As Josiah would say," Nate added, "Friends are the sailors who guide your rickety boat safely across the dangerous waters of life."

"Would he?" I asked.

"He did a while ago." Nate nodded.

"We've got to go." Snowman declared, "Help me, Saint Healer?"

Snowman held up a rope, a fixed loop at the bottom.

"You can't lower him on that!" Nate snatched the rope. His quick hands added two extra loops. "Hand holds."

"Good call." Snowman agreed. "Come on, Kid. Time to go."

They lowered me out of the window. Bandit was at the bottom, and he quickly detangled me from the rope.

"Sorry about this, Kid." Bandit drawled, "But I don't think you're in any state to run."

It showed just how much weight I had lost that Bandit managed to scoop me up in his arms like a child, as his long legs carried him back to his car. A black Trans-Am, with a golden phoenix design on the hood. That car is Bandit's trademark. As unique as the designs on a Rig. As unique as a Handle.

He slid me into the passenger seat, and I carefully watched my hands, as I did up the seat-belt. I was determined not to show my weakness to anyone. I would not let them know that I was crippled… That I was a useless cripple.

"Here, you forgot these." Snowman placed the paper bag containing two bottles between my legs, "The pain-killers you're currently on won't last forever."

"I know." I nodded.

"We'll block for you as long as we can." Snowman stated, "But your best hope lies with speed."

"And anyone else who wants to pitch in." Bandit grinned.

"I'll key the mike." I smirked.

Bandit gunned the engine and we were gone.

Carefully watching my hand, I reached out and grabbed the mike on the dashboard.

"This is Milkybar Kid to all points." I declared, "I'm on a run from the Holly Land to Disney Land. I'm riding with the Bandit. And we're hammer down. I don't need any bear bites. So if anyone not worried about Bears could help me out. I'd appreciate it. Come back to me."

"Nice to hear from you, Kid!" the cry came over the radio, "It's Greebo here."

"Grave-Robber. Good to know you're alright. I can run some interference for ya. But I'm a little more Disneyland way. So give me a holler when you're closer. What's your expected ETA?"

"I'm aiming for four and a half days."

An impressed whistle came over the radio, several of them to be precise.

"I see why you need our help." A new voice declared.

"Yeah," I agreed, "So if anyone out there has no forgeries in their current comic book… I would appreciated the hand. I got a long way to go. And a short time to get there."

"Good to know you're alive and kicking." Grave-Robber stated, "I do so hate being the driver on the penultimate journey of friends."

"I have no intention of placing that burden on you, old friend." I smiled.

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The journey is best remembered as long, tiring and filled with conversations on the CB. It seemed every Trucker wanted to welcome me back to the land of the living. I also used the trip to stretch all my leg muscles. I would have to walk into the Court House on my own. I could not let any weakness be detected.

Pain also came back. The stuff Nate had given me barely touched it. My hands ached and hurt. It was the only thing I could feel from them.

We actually managed to arrive at the Court House after only three days. I know I slept a fair bit of the way. And occasionally Bandit slept too. But he spent most of the trip dosed up on Trucker's candy, fast-food and lots of caffeine rich drinks.

The crowd was expecting us. Or at least most of the crowd was. The protesters supporting the Foreign Minister and the other Conspirators weren't. However they couldn't protest.

The police were far to distracted with all the problems the Truckers were causing to be tightly regulating the area, so we drove straight up to the front doors. The crowd split before us.

Before I knew what was going on, someone had started the beat. Stomp. Stomp. Clap. Stomp. Stomp. Clap.

It spread, as I got out the car. I couldn't help my smile. I waved and mock bowed to the Truckers, even as the singing started… As I knew it would, the moment the beat had been taken up.

The confusion on the other Protesters' faces was a sight to behold. They couldn't understand why I was being given the Royal Treatment… And they didn't know the song either.

Bandit joined me on my walk into the Court House. No one opposed me. There wasn't the man power.

And I needed the support. For the moment the doors shut behind me, my knees nearly gave way in the hall. Bandit caught me.

But he wasn't the only one. A second pair of hands were supporting me.

I looked up between my bangs, as I got my feet back under me. It was a woman I'd never seen before. She was dressed in a suit that she would rather not be in.

"It's good to see you again." She told me.

"I don't know you." I frowned.

"No," She shook her head, "I wouldn't expect you to remember. We went to the same school on L2. I was a couple of years above you."

I didn't say anything. My past… At least that far back… Is the past. I don't think about it. At least not about the school.

"Look," The woman stared at me, "I'm Dani Messer. And I didn't treat you all that well back then. But you still stood up for a friend of mine. You didn't have to. But you did so anyway.

"I told myself that the next time I saw you, I would apologize, say thank you, and ask if you would consider being my friend.

"I'm sorry. Thank you. Could you possibly forgive me? I would like to be friends. I would rather walk with demons than with the humans that scorn him."

"Well, Dani," I smiled at her, "It's nice to meet you. But I have somewhere to be."

"I know." She agreed, "That's why I'm here. You changed my life. I'm a CSI. From L3."
"Well," Bandit drawled, "If you know why the boy is here… Can you show us which way to go?"

"Certainly." Dani grinned, "But we'll have to open the doors. I would offer to get a wheelchair, but I know the Demon never shows his weaknesses."

She was definitely from L2. Only they ever called me the Demon. And they would know that the Demon doesn't get hurt… Or if he does, you never know.

I wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

But she led us to the Court Room doors. They were large wooden things. Relics from a long time ago. Bandit and Dani made sure that I could stand on my own, before they went to open the doors.

I steeled myself.

I fixed a smile on my face.

Showtime.

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Reviews are my candy. I go on a writing spree with each one. Trying to earn them.

Constructive criticism encouraged.

And once again, thanks to all your reviews, I have hit a milestone. Five hundred reviews. Thank you all. And this chapter is dedicated to my five hundredth reviewer: Windwraith!

Malice2 – Rewind. And Play. Glad you enjoyed it.

Anonymous Void – Thanks for the data. I did know a little about jury selection. I read it in a fiction book once, about how to fix a trial. Good book… Can't remember the title or the author. Anyway, thanks for the review.

Illusion-Factory – I do so agree. It was a good film.

Katerina Shinigami – Just clean the blood up. I'm fine afterwards. Glad you liked the chapter.

Windwraith – Duo always knows how to make an entrance. Thanks for the chocolate.

Pattyard – Duo probably looks a fair bit like some sort of ghost actually. But that's cool.

So-kun – Like Duo would take all of this lying down. And the silver platter is waiting.

Hellfire – Cold nearly gone. Didn't see a doctor. What was the point? I have Day and Night Nurse. I'm fine. Thanks for the concern. And Duo's dressed like a cowboy, because he's dressed like the Milkybar Kid. The one in white.

E – I hope that I will not disappoint.

Enigmatek – Ready and waiting. Glad you liked Duo's entrance.

BlackRose-FlowerofDeath – I may not like reading cliff-hangers. But I love writing them.

Peaceful Angel – My music teacher? He was an acquired taste. You had to fight him to get his respect. That's what he wanted. And the music? Not so random. Only a few people have managed to name it yet. Any guesses?

Wind Dancer1981 – Nice to know. Hope this pleases you.

Fauxsey – Mind. Gutter. Out. Nice to know that you liked it though.

Zuzanny – Glad you enjoyed it.

Toraus – You're right on the money. And one of only a few people to get it. Well done.

20eKUraN09 – Hope you enjoyed this chapter.

Airalee – Glad you liked it.

King1234 – Welcome to the story, and nice to know that I surprised you.

Kage Elric – Go look up the Milkybar Kid on Youtube. Duo's dressed as the White Cowboy Sheriff from the adverts… Not his choice.

Whitetiger1589 – I'll keep writing. And thanks for the hugs.

Remedy – I have no intention of stopping… For one thing I don't like lynch mobs.

Solitaire – Your first guess was correct. And I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter.

Lilly – WooHoo! So I guess you enjoyed the chapter?

Kay – Nice to know. And I'm fond of Howie, too.

Once again, thanks to all my reviewers.