Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its affiliated trademarks.

Author's Note: Heero and Duo were experimented on. Now they have to try to live with the side effects. 1+2. 3+4. Sap. Language. TWT. Mention of torture. Constructive criticism is welcome. Edited 05/08/07.

Chapter Three, Revelations

It wasn't the usual nightmare with the war, his training, or the little girl he had killed that Heero struggled to wake from. This time he was being tortured with fire, the flames licking at his skin, hot tongues of pain caressing his back like a sadistic lover. In his dream he was being lowered into a blazing fire to burn alive, but he was skewered onto a spit and couldn't escape. Above him the white-clad madman laughed gleefully as the flames chewed at his back and the skin charred and peeled, blood dripping from the open wound to hiss on the flames that were slowly engulfing him. While he struggled to escape his death, the mechanical laughter suddenly changed to a frighteningly familiar voice. He knew that man, if only he could just see his face beyond the flames that grew higher and higher, blocking the white sky from view. The fire ate at his body, burning away his soul and demanding the last vestiges of life to leave. Not yet, not like this. Below him a burning figure formed in the flames. Was it Relena? No, it looked like Duo. His sad face looked up at him and his mouth formed words without voice, but Heero could read the message on his lips: "It's not so bad on the other side, Heero." Dead? Duo was dead? No, he had to--!

He awoke from the nightmare with a start. His eyes snapped open to see Trowa's green ones staring back at him. He slowly relaxed his muscles and wiped his head across the pillow to mop the sweat off his face, his neck muscles protesting at the movement. He shivered as the sweat began cooling on his naked torso. "Duo."

"- is sleeping better now." A small smile flitted across Trowa's lips. "He woke for the first time yesterday. It's a good sign."

Heero closed his eyes in relief and grunted his agreement.

"I take it you didn't sleep too well," Trowa's calming voice said. Then he felt something strange, like a slight, soothing pressure. He lifted his head slightly to look over and saw Trowa's hand stroking his wing. It felt oddly good and took away some of the sting, so he decided not to say anything and settled his head back down.

Trowa found himself wondering why Heero wasn't yelling at him to knock it off. Normally the stoic pilot was so hard to approach. Maybe, like Duo said, it did feel nice. Maybe Heero just needed company that badly.

"Trowa." Trowa's hand hesitated at Heero's hoarse voice. "Please, get me some drugs."

"Are you in pain?"

Heero grunted a small laugh. "Not yet, but I will be," he said into his pillow.

Wondering at this, Trowa carefully displaced the limb in hand and left.

Heero looked over at Duo and felt a stab of anguish at seeing him in such obvious distress. Duo never seemed defeated; he was always chattering and just generally moving his mouth too much, making unbearable situations bearable with his lighthearted jokes, but now he seemed so beaten. He hated the flashes he had in his mind's eye of Duo's screams echoing in the empty medical room, his wrists and ankles tearing against the shackles. Now he had tubes coming out of him, an oxygen mask, and an IV drip taped to his hand. He looked like a bomb survivor instead of the fierce Gundam pilot he knew.

Fixing his determination, his arms screamed at him to stop as Heero tore the oxygen tubes from his nose, and then removed the needle from the back of his hand. He stared at his bandaged wrists while he caught his breath, then very slowly began to move his left wing. He let out a sharp gasp as the sore, unused muscles responded, but stubbornly continued anyway. By the time Heero had folded his wing behind his back, he was panting and sweating with exertion. Then he did the same with his other wing, and he bit his lower lip to keep from crying out at the searing agony. He panted, waiting for the pain to subside, but it seemed that wasn't going to happen, so he took it for a victory when he felt both wings nestled softly against his back and brushing down his calves. He tried hard to stay off exhaustion, but he wasn't finished yet and kept going. He pushed up with his arms, this time screaming in agony as his shoulders flexed. He didn't stop moving until he was on his hands and knees, trying desperately to catch his breath and remain conscious.

When Trowa returned he found Heero like this, his head hanging and his chest heaving, the sheet having slithered off of his body and revealing Heero in all of his nudity. He could see his body shaking and his wings trembling from the effort. Now he understood why Heero had said that he would be in pain and wanted something to help deal with it.

Through the rush of blood in his ears, Heero dimly heard Trowa padding over to his bedside, and opened wearily opened his eyes. He couldn't read the other's blank face, but he saw something akin to admiration in his eyes as he offered the pill and water. Heero couldn't spare the energy to talk and was only just containing his shaking to fine tremors. He managed to gasp out, "Trowa," before he lost that bare control over his muscles and began trembling violently, still refusing to let the pain drag him back down to the bed.

Trowa bit the inside of his cheek at seeing his comrade like this. He set down the glass of water, and gently slid his hands under Heero's arms. With great difficulty he helped him to sit upright on his knees and heels. He worried about the other's wings coming in contact with the bed, but with visible and audible effort Heero rearranged them so that the tips crossed and protruded on opposite sides of the bed. He stayed upright only with Trowa's help and sagged greatly against his supporting arms.

"Heero, you're going to kill yourself," Trowa said to Heero's panting figure. Heero didn't respond, using all of his energy to quiet his screaming muscles. Soon he was well enough to look up at Trowa and said, "I can sit on my own now." Trowa slowly removed his hands from Heero's shoulders. He swayed slightly, but remained as he was. Trowa then fed him the pill and water, knowing that he probably was too sore to move his arms anymore for now.

Just then Quatre ran through the doorway. "What's all the commotion?" Then he stopped dead when he saw Heero's quivering body sitting up. "Are you okay? Heero, it's so good to see you awake!" Quatre took a seat next to Trowa and clasped Heero's arm. Pain shot up and down, spreading to the fingertips and shoulder at that gentle touch, and he grit his teeth to keep from making a sound.

Heero looked into Quatre's concerned blue eyes and nodded slightly. "I will be," he croaked. Now that he was sitting still, the pain was beginning to subside, but he knew that he had almost reached the limit of his abilities for the day. Quatre's hand began stroking his wings along with Trowa, and as the gentle touches seemed to massage the pain away, his head sagged lethargically with relief. He thought that maybe he should tell them to quit, but it felt almost therapeutic, and he was in no shape to turn down any reprieve from the burning they could grant him. The slightly chilled are made him aware that he was now without sheets to cover his nudity, but it didn't seem important. He looked across the short distance between the beds at Duo's prone body lying stretched out. For some reason, reaching him, making sure he was okay, seemed like the most important thing in the world right now.

Seeing where he was looking, Quatre and Trowa silently took hold of Heero's arms and helped him off the bed. He hissed as burning muscles were stretched, but he didn't tell them to stop. He shakily put one foot on the floor, then another, glad that at least his legs weren't affected by all this. He stood swaying for a moment, then waved the other two off. They reluctantly let go, but Heero didn't fall. Instead he resolutely put one foot in front of the other and made his slow, agonizing way to Duo's bedside. He kneeled at the edge of Duo's bed and studied the face of the soldier who was somehow always backing him up, protecting the colonies, protecting him. This young boy was willing to sacrifice himself unhesitatingly for the smallest chance of buying Heero a little time to survive, and he wondered why he would do such a thing. He looked peculiarly down at Duo's sleeping face and brushed a hand against his cheek, careful not to disturb the oxygen tube, and noticed that his skin was gradually regaining its color. A small smile and a sigh crossed Duo's lips, and his face looked less tortured. Remembering how relaxing it felt to have his own wings stroked, he ignored the pain of lifting his arms and moved his hands down to the velvety softness, gently rubbing the smooth leather. Duo's face eased in pleasure, and Heero felt an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Deciding that they didn't need to be present for this, Trowa and Quatre quietly left the room, leaving the two boys alone. They shut the door softly behind them and stood together in the hallway.

"I wonder if they even know they're in love," mused Quatre, leaning in to Trowa. "It's so obvious to everyone else, but you know how thick-headed they can be."

With a small chuckle, Trowa hooked his arm around Quatre's waist and started them off down the hallway. "They know it, but they haven't put a name to it." They leaned against each other as they made off, comforting each other with their touch. "Come on, let's go find something to eat and then see if Wufei's back yet."

Upstairs, Wufei sat at the computer in his closed room and popped in the disc he had retrieved from the base. He waited impatiently for the data to appear, and quickly began rifling through it, looking for any relevant information. In little time he hacked his way into a file concerning the purpose of this experiment and scoffed at their overconfidence for encoding sensitive material so poorly. Wufei leered in disgust as he skimmed it, rambling on about using soldiers that could fly in battle. It was an incredibly stupid idea, and certainly not worth all the pain that his friends had undergone. He then opened a file containing data on the researchers and scientists. His blood boiled as he read through each and every name. He would kill them all. There was one name that seemed to be missing, or it could have been so hidden under encoding so difficult that it would take some serious effort to crack.

His curiosity was piqued when he came across a video clip. When he opened it he was left in shock. It was obvious from the camera's perspective that it was done inside the information room he had blown up earlier. Through the one-way window he could see Heero and Duo suspended naked from chains in the ceiling. "Shit." His skin went cold as he realized it was the same room that he had seen so blood spattered. At the bottom of the screen were two separate readouts, monitoring the boys. As he was watching he thought he saw a blip in Heero's readout, but it immediately went back to normal. He saw no reaction from his still form, either. Then Duo woke up. His heartbeat sped up and his adrenaline level skyrocketed. He saw him mouthing something and turned on the volume.

". . . if you're gonna molest us, hurry up and do it so I can put my clothes back on. I'm cold!" he was saying. Wufei snorted. Typical Duo, always mouthing off when the situation got rough.

He continued to watch in morbid fascination as an obscure man came in with a cart. He listened attentively to his sadistic little conversation with the two pilots and flinched in sympathy when the needle was twisted inside Duo's leg. He was surprised to see that Heero's eyes were open when his readings still said that he was unconscious. "Very talented, Heero. You must teach me that trick." Then his fascination turned to disgust as the white figure shamelessly fondled Heero, then to horror after the doctor left the room.

He saw Heero break out in a sweat, panting as he pulled at his chains. Duo was absolutely terrified. Then they both began screaming. Bright red blood poured from their shoulders as the sounds of bones popping and wet skin ripping filled the room. Their heads rolled madly with pain. Then the screaming reached a new height as limbs emerged from their shoulders.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." Wufei thought he was going to be sick. He wanted nothing more than to stop the video and burn it right then, but if his friends could live through this, then he could stand to witness it. He watched in grim terror as the blood spurted all over the room. He was amazed that their hearts hadn't failed, and their blood pressure was dropping rapidly. Then, when the limbs finally stopped growing, the screaming came to an end and the two pilots sagged in their chains. The readouts showed that they were unconscious and quickly making their way toward death.

He leaned back in his chair with relief, glad that it was over. Shakily he stood up and made his way out the door to the bathroom downstairs. On his way there he passed Quatre, who tried to stop him and ask him what was wrong. Wufei shoved him out of his way and ran. He leaned over the toilet bowl just in time as he vomited, and Quatre was at his side with a washcloth and towel before he knew it, helping him to clean up.

He was embarrassed that he had thrown up. It wasn't something he did often and certainly never in front of his comrades. He looked up into Quatre's concerned face, then back down. The horror of what he had seen flashed through his mind again, and this time he had the dry heaves, nothing left in his stomach to throw back up.

Now Quatre was seriously worried. Throwing up once was one thing, but twice . . . "Wufei, what is it?" he asked quietly. The Chinese pilot looked into his eyes and the blond saw the terror flash in them.

"My mission," Wufei said hoarsely, grimacing at the bitter taste in his mouth. "I went back to the base and took all the files. They . . . They recorded it. All of it." He didn't try to stop the tremble in his spine. His master had trained him to withstand traditional torture methods, but witnessing this caliber of atrocity was altogether different.

The blood drained out of Quatre's face as he immediately realized what he was talking about. No. He didn't want to see it. He couldn't handle it. But he knew he would, and so would Trowa. He opened his mouth to ask, but Wufei just nodded before he could say anything.

"Get Trowa. I'll prepare the video." With that Wufei left to his room upstairs, and Quatre went to the kitchen to get the other pilot.

Minutes later, Quatre and Trowa emerged from Wufei's room to the hallway where the Chinese pilot waited, choosing not to watch the clip again. They refused to look at each other and stared at the ground in mute horror, trying to cope with everything they had seen. How could their friends have survived it? How could they live with the memories? But Quatre thought he already knew the answer: they had each other. That's how they could keep going on. It was a shame the two didn't quite realize it yet.

Transmission Interrupted

Duo slowly awoke as through drifting through a dense fog of tranquilizers. Feeling the need to scratch at something that was tickling his back, he reflexively moved his arm to remedy the problem and was quickly rewarded with a stab of pain. His eyes snapped open in shock as the memories of everything that had happened rushed back to him in a terrible flood, and he shook his head to clear the visions, taking deep, labored breaths. He blinked rapidly, wondering if he was still dreaming, because what he saw left him puzzled and confused.

Heero had somehow crawled into the giant bed with him, both of them naked under the covers. Partially covered by his messy brown hair, his face was serene and peaceful as he draped one feathered wing over Duo's back and one over the side of the bed. Duo had never seen the normally aggressive and violent boy look so tranquil and so unlike a highly trained assassin. Not wanting to disturb him, he decided he could live with a little tickling if it meant he could take this rare opportunity to watch him like this for a little while. He could figure out how Heero had gotten over here, knowing the persistence and endurance of the perfect soldier, but not why. He wondered what had put that look on his face. Maybe some really good drugs. Maybe he got off on being naked in bed with another guy. He laughed quietly to himself and immediately regretted moving his chest for that small motion. Nah, had to be the drugs.

He paused at that thought. So what if Heero was into guys? Did that mean he was into him? He realized that Heero's face looked almost happy, and he thought that's how he would have looked if this war hadn't come to them. Heero was probably just feeling lonely and vulnerable and in need of companionship. He wondered if Heero had ever had a friend before, much less knew what it meant to be in love or gay. Only a short while ago he thought that there was no way this hard ass killing machine could have feelings like friendship or love, but he also never thought this expression on his face was possible, either. He shrugged mentally. "Hell, if sleeping in my bed floats his boat, then fine by me," he thought. Besides, theirs was a purely by-the-numbers working relationship, nothing more.

But he knew that wasn't true. Not only did they defy death together nearly every day, but they also helped each other when they were injured and tended to each other's wounds. Duo remembered a time when he had been knocked unconscious inside an OZ military base when on a mission with Heero. When he awoke, he was in a dark room with Heero, who was wiping a cloth across his forehead and softly murmuring words in some foreign language. He couldn't recall feeling such a gentle touch in a long time, or feeling so sheltered. Partners or not, they fought harder when they were protecting each other. Strange that he had never realized it before.

"Well, maybe it is something more," Duo tried admitting to himself. "Yeah, like best pals. War buddies." Braving the pain he pulled out the oxygen tubes and hesitantly reached out to touch the other boy's surprisingly soft hair, smoothing it from his face. He was beautiful like this, looking so innocent. If only they weren't needed in this war so he could look this way all the time. And that was when it hit him that theirs was more than just a working relationship. "Whoa whoa whoa, back up a sec. I don't even like him that way. Besides, it's way too dangerous for us to be together like that right now." He blinked. He thought he'd just admitted that if it were any other time, it would be okay to--

"Best buds. Definitely." It was just good fortune that his friend was very attractive, possibly into him, and sharing his bed, he decided. But with a smirk Duo looked back at all the times he had seen Heero walk out of the shower in nothing but his birthday suit, his dark hair dripping water down his back and chest in rivulets that accentuated his perfect musculature. He chuckled then and sighed contentedly, reaching his hand out to rest on Heero's arm. His sexy best friend. Maybe he could hook him up with that Relena chick or something.

Duo fell asleep that way, listening to Heero's deep, regular breathing and admiring his peaceful features. He almost wished this would never end.

End Transmission