~ All standard disclaimers apply
~ Warning: See ToB- Ninmu
~ Tears of Blood: Kaitou ~
Duo sat in his darkened room, staring straight ahead. He didn't understand. Why? Why tell him to kill his comrades, his friends? It would be so much better, so much less painful, to kill the scientists. They were the ones who gave the orders to kill. They were the ones who had trained them to kill. They were the ones who had given them the Gundams, the tools of mass destruction.
However, even if the scientists died, the others would keep fighting. Duo knew this with certainty, because he knew he would keep fighting. He would fight until the war was over, as would the others. But even if he killed his friends, the scientists would only bring in new boys, train them to be what they had lost. So it wouldn't matter, would it, if the current pilots lost their lives? After all, Heero always said that they were expendable. That was why he valued life, especially his own, so little.
Perhaps that would be his next order, his next mission. Kill the scientists. That he could do. They were a bunch of crazy old geezers anyway. Someone would be coming for them soon enough. Why not send them on their way a little early?
But no. The master would hate it for his servant to take such decisive action without orders. He would be overstepping his rights, however minimal they were. Duo shuddered when he remembered Solo, another boy who had given his soul to the master. Solo had been given a mission that he failed to complete. He had angered the master with his defiance. His soul was still writhing in pain, even now, 10 years later. All that agony brought on by one simple word from the master.
Duo continued to stare into the dark space in front of him, remembering his former friend. Now Solo was used as an example of what could happen to any who dared go against the master's orders. The new recruits would be forced to watch the tormented soul squirm in its invisible confines, hearing its hollow cries echoing in their skulls, pleading for mercy. Duo didn't doubt that the tales the new ones heard of Solo's defiance were exaggerated. However, very few had known the truth of the matter, and Duo was the only one left with his living body. For some reason or other, all the Soulless Ones' bodies died early. Duo was the oldest and had been for a while.
He didn't particularly relish the though of becoming a tormented soul, like Solo. But if he wanted to hold off that he would have to kill his friends. There was no way around it. Perhaps, if he could sneak some poison into the dinner…? No. He'd have to eat the dinner, and the poison too.
But would that be so bad? He could die with his friends. The master wouldn't have too much to punish him for. After all, the others would be dead too, right? Sure, he could expect some punishment for not waiting until he was sure they were dead, but that had to be better than outright killing his friends.
He didn't really need to worry about joining Solo in eternal pain for something like that. He was the oldest, and had the most experience. The master might not want to pull his most adept slave out of service for not making sure his targets had died.
He would do it. He could sneak into the kitchen now, dump some poison into the food. No one would know it was him who had put the poison in the food. They could all die together, save him some heartache.
Duo stood, fished around in his duffel bag. Feeling cold glass smooth against his hand, he closed his fingers around the small vial, pulling it out. He examined it with a kind of grateful dread. The bottle was about the length of his finger, not much thicker.
Clear liquid sloshed around inside, scentless, tasteless. ¾ of the glass was empty. It didn't matter. The poison was strong enough to kill a full-grown man with only a few drops. Admittedly, it would take a few pain-filled hours for the guy to die, but if Duo poured the entire contents of the vial into the meal, they should all die after the first swallow.
Sighing, Duo stood, palming the tiny bottle. He coaxed his joker's mask on, wondering what he would do if someone were already in the kitchen. Well, he'd manage somehow. If anyone was in there, they were bound to turn their back to the food eventually. He could slip the poison in then. It was a good thing he had acquired a reputation for loving food. That would explain his presence, if anyone happened to be curious.
Hoping his smile didn't seem too forced, Duo opened the door. He was extremely grateful that all the pilots had been forced to stay in the same safe house. Momentarily the smile on his face altered into a smirk. He was sure the master had arranged that. It was odd for all of them to have a large, joint mission like this one. Perhaps one of the Soulless Ones had messed with the scientists' minds, or maybe their computers. Whatever the reason, he was glad he didn't have to search out any pilots missing the dinner.
The food sat on the counter, special containers keeping them warm. That was just one of the benefits of having a rich friend. Even in below freezing temperatures, they still received hot food. Duo opened the first of the two containers, carefully unstopping the tiny vial in his hand. The smell of the food enveloped him, along with a cloud of warmth. Duo paused, letting the warm steam bring some color back to his cheeks. He brought up his hand, preparing to dump half the liquid onto the food.
He tilted his hand, watching the fluid rush to the lip of the bottle. He froze. Someone was watching him. He could feel it. Glancing over his shoulder, eyes wide, Duo saw Heero standing in the doorway, staring at him. A blush rose to Duo's cheeks, deepening the color brought on by the heat of the food.
Did he know? Could Heero see the small cylinder of glass he held? Would he be able to tell that the liquid inside was poison?
"Hn." Heero turned and walked away, leaving Duo breathing heavily behind him.
He didn't know. If he had, Duo's body would be dead now, shot by the other boy's gun. Heero had most likely suspected that his comrade had been about to sneak a bit of food, an embarrassed blush coloring his cheeks at being caught. Duo was safe. He could continue, he could…
…He could murder his friends, that's what he could do. That's what would have happened if Heero hadn't appeared in the doorway. Duo supposed it wouldn't have mattered if his friend had or hadn't shown up. They were all destined to die, whether in battle, after the war, or by a comrade's hand.
Duo knew he had to do this. The master was watching, expecting his servant to obey. And if he didn't…his soul would join Solo's in eternal torture. He didn't want that, but he didn't want to hurt his friends. When the master attained the pilots' souls, they would be punished. And sooner or later, he would get them. The longer those souls were out of his grasp, the more torment they would receive when they finally joined the master's collection. So… it was… better… if they went… now… right?
Even with this knowledge Duo couldn't force himself to pour the poison. As if it had a mind of its own, the braided teen's hand straightened, recapping the tiny vial of poison. The container of food was closed, and Duo walked away, the glass bottle concealed in his pocket. He kept up the joker's mask, once again hoping the grin didn't look as fake as it felt.
~~~
Somehow Duo made it though the dinner. He was nervous, fidgety. He half expected someone to keel over, dead from the poison. What if some of the elixir had been spilt in his surprise at seeing Heero? Maybe there was a drop of the toxin in the food. They could die, but it wouldn't be quick.
One drop divided among five… They would die slowly, painfully as the poison affected their muscles and nerves. Nerves would seem on fire, burning them up while leaving them frozen in pain. It would slowly make it hard, nearly impossible for their muscles to contract and relax, slowing their hearts, leaving the blood still in their veins. This was not a forgiving poison.
Duo remained tense throughout the meal, eyes darting from the food to each of his friends in turn, looking for the paling of the skin, diluting of the pupils that was characteristic to his poison. He knew he was acting oddly, but there was no way he would be able to keep up a steady stream of mindless chatter. He was too stressed, knowing what could be in the food but not knowing if it was even there. For all he knew the poison hadn't fallen, leaving the food uncontaminated.
"Duo? Duo, daijoubu?"
"Nani?" Duo snapped back to attention, nervously pushing his food around on his plate.
"You zoned out, you're quiet, and you haven't eaten." Heero replied swiftly.
// Shit, they noticed. Well duh, of course they noticed. You're acting way too weird Maxwell. Ah hell, what'm I gonna say? // "I- I don't feel good. I'm going to my room."
Duo stood, mentally berating himself as he walked out of the room. //Oh yes, such an original excuse. Give em the ol 'I don't feel good' routine. That's been used, what, a million times before? What happened to all my smart-ass remarks, as the master calls them. Aw shit, what'm I gonna do?// He entered the darkened room, not bothering to turn the lights on. The dark would comfort him, if nothing else.
Duo paced around the room, knowing exactly where everything lay. He had to kill them, but he couldn't. They knew. They knew something was up. He was acting up after one attempt. Who knew how many it would take before he could finally do it?
If only it had been someone else. One of the other Soulless Ones could have killed the pilots, and him too, while they were at it. Or if someone else had been the target, Duo wouldn't have hesitated to pour the poison. Depending on who it was, he might not have even considered using the poison. He might have gone at it with his gun or knife, or even his bare hands.
"Why the hell couldn't it have been someone else?!"
"Why couldn't what have been someone else?"
Duo spun the see the owner of the new voice, his braid flying around and whipping him in the face. Pushing the length of hair aside, the braided teen stared wide-eyed at the other boy standing in the doorway. Dark blue eyes glared back as Duo silently looked at the boy he had claimed to be his best friend.
The one he was ordered to kill.
Heero cocked an eyebrow, the small gesture reminding Duo that he had been asked a question. Duo stuttered for a moment, unsure whether he had spoken more than the last statement aloud. He couldn't risk it. Even if Heero had heard, the master would be extremely upset if his slave confirmed any information.
"Oh, I-I was wondering why someone else couldn't have done this job instead of me. We're all freezing our asses off, but we don't all have to be here!" Well, technically it wasn't lie. He had been wondering why someone else hadn't been assigned his job, even though it wasn't the mission Heero assumed it was. And it was freezing.
"Hn."
Duo continued to fidget, playing with the end of his braid. It sounded lame, even to himself. Heero was sure to have noticed the way he avoided the other boy's eyes, how his breathing was labored, how nervous he was. There was no way the Perfect Soldier could have missed it. Even now Duo could feel the weight of Heero's gaze on him, unrelenting. It was as if Heero knew he was being lied to and planned on wringing the truth out with the power in his eyes.
This wasn't working. He couldn't do this. He couldn't lie to his friend. Duo had always prided himself on being honest, most of the time. His status as a Soulless One required him to lie to protect the master. However, he had never needed to lie to any of his friends. Admittedly, he never told them the whole truth about himself, but that wasn't really lying. Just not telling all the facts.
Duo took a breath. He couldn't lie. It didn't feel right.
"Heero I- huh?" He blinked, staring at the empty doorway. "Oh well. I'm not gonna go looking for him. What would I say? 'Hey buddy, guess what? I'm gonna send your soul to the master so he can torture it along with mine! You'll be writhing in agony for the rest of forever!' Right. He'd think I completely lost it. If he doesn't think that already."
Duo sat down on his bed, unaware of the boy listening around the corner.
~~~
Duo stood over the sleeping form of Heero wondering what he was doing. He had a dagger clutched in his shaking hand. //What the hell happened to my brain?! This is the Perfect Soldier here! He'll wake up now, see me with the dagger, and shoot my guts out! I must be crazy to try this!//
He blinked, realizing why he had been about to kill his best friend first. Heero had the quickest reaction time, and didn't hesitate to kill. Duo had been looking for a way out. He'd subconsciously been hoping that the other boy would kill him before he had a chance to hurt anyone else. He was afraid, plain and simple. Weak, as Wufei would say.
Duo backed away, mind reeling. He'd never failed the master before. Then again, he'd never been ordered to kill his friends before. He couldn't fail the mission placed upon him by the master, but he couldn't bring himself to kill his friends, either.
Which side would win? Loyalty to the master, or loyalty to his friends? To obey would mean loosing his friends, no, purposely misplacing them. But, the master wouldn't harm his soul. To disobey guaranteed eternal torture for his spirit, but left his friends alive, for a time. Which meant more, his soul or his friends?
Matte. There had to be a way around choosing; these painful options couldn't be the only ones he had. Duo gasped as the loophole made itself clear. There was a way…
He hurried out of the room, nearly tripping in his haste. Duo forced himself to move slowly, trying not to make too much noise. There was no way he wanted any of the others waking up. He was going to do this. It was so much easier this way…
Duo quietly closed the door behind him, cringing at the audible click the lock made. He stood before the sink, not bothering to turn on the light. Gazing into the darkness, the boy could barely make out the shadowy form in the mirror. Only his eyes blazed clear, amethyst stones set in cold determination.
Holding his arm over the basin, Duo raised the dagger. He regretted not having hot water to make the blood come faster, but he couldn't risk waking any of the others. He nicked the inside of his wrist, a shallow cut. The boy welcomed the flash of pain that accompanied the rending of his flesh. Blood welled up from the tear, slowly making its way down into the sink. He drove the blade deep into his flesh, wincing as it severed muscles, nerves, veins.
The pain was sharp, intense. Duo bit back a gasp, forcing himself to draw the dagger out slowly, widening the gash. Blood spurted from the torn flesh, staining his shirt, plunging into the sink. Clumsily he transferred the dagger to his injured hand. Gripping the handle as tightly as he was able, the teen drove the dripping blade into his other wrist.
He stood, watching the blood fly from his veins, as if desperate to escape its confines. It spattered the mirror, dotting the surface. The larger drops slid down the smooth surface, leaving red streaks behind. His reflection stood behind the drops of blood, a hazy outline spotted by red, violet eyes too bright.
Duo smiled grimly. He'd found a way around the mission. True, it was the easy way out, but he couldn't bring himself to hurt his friends. Sure, his soul would be tortured, but the master wouldn't send it to accompany Solo's in eternal torture, would he? After all, the order had been to kill the Gundam pilots, and he was one of them. Duo ignored the fact that the master had said to kill the other pilots, not his own body.
It wasn't coming fast enough! The blood was spilling too slowly for his taste, even though the flow hadn't lessened. Tightening his numb fingers around the hilt of the dagger, Duo raked the blade across the rest of his arm. Now the skin on both forearms was nothing more than red stained strips of flesh, riding the rivers of blood.
More blood splattered the mirror, doing its best to obscure the shadow of the dying boy.
He was getting light headed from blood loss. The pain reverberated through his whole body. Transfixed, Duo stared at the bloody mess of his arms, watching the life-giving liquid rapidly fleeing his body, taking the curse of life with it. Black tendrils licked at the edges of his vision. They threatened to reach into the center, merge and blind him to the rest of the world, to the pain.
No. He couldn't go with them just yet. He had to feel the full power of the pain. It was of his making, the pain. He had to live with it a little longer…
But the agony was dulling. The black fingers were pushing it away from him, pulling him into their depths. Duo glanced at his barely seen reflection in the glass. The eyes were dimming, fading to gray. He clung to the last hints of pain, pulling it into him, punishment for himself. The blackness receded, vision cleared. Duo breathed, wondering if this was normal for a dying man to experience.
Suddenly the darkness welled up, sucking him under, keeping him there. His body fell forward, mind trapped in the clinging blanket of nothing. The dagger scraped against his face, drawing a line of blood from his forehead down past his temple. Duo's body lay, twisted on the bathroom floor, mind lost to the black waters of death.
~~~
A shadowed man looked on in distaste as the transparent form before him slowly solidified. Blank gray eyes lost their emptiness as violet filtered though. The man clenched his fist, knuckles white around the handle of a whip. He rose from his chair, raising the whip as he walked toward the nearly opaque boy before him.
~~~
Gasping, Quatre jerked up in bed, blankets pooling around his waist. His eyes were wide with fear and pain, hands clawing at his shirt in a vain attempt to alleviate the pain. His breathing was labored, apprehension constricting his chest.
"Na-nani? Kore wa… kore wa… Trowa!"
Trowa rose from his bed, coming to sit next to the blond. "What is it, Little One? What is your Uchuu no Kokoro telling you?" He gently rubbed the smaller pilot's back in an attempt to calm.
"It's- Something's not right with one of us." Quatre paused, trying to determine which of his friends was in trouble. "Duo! We have to help him! He's-"
The boy bolted out the door before finishing his sentence. Trowa quickly followed him to Duo and Heero's room. He skidded to a stop, almost bumping into the other boy. Quatre was standing in the doorway, hand over the light switch, staring at Duo's empty bed. Heero was crouched in a fighting stance, eyes flashing.
Before Heero could rise, Quatre was out of the room, calling for Duo. The pain in his chest was still sharp, herding him onward, desperate to find the missing pilot. As he neared the closed door of the bathroom, the pain in his chest increased, making him gasp aloud.
One hand over his heart, Quatre frantically rattled the doorknob, somehow not surprised that it was locked. He began pounding on the wood, alternately shouting for Duo and calling for someone to break it down. A strong hand pulled him away from the door. Quatre turned, looked into Wufei's dark eyes as Heero broke through the door.
Immediately the young blond was in the small room, turning on the light and joining Heero at the side of the unconscious Duo. Blood still pumped from his arms, creating a growing pool, saturating his clothes and hair. After one glance Wufei hurried to get the First Aid kit, Trowa to get some towels. Heero and Quatre worked together in an attempt to staunch the flow of blood, tears streaming down Quatre's cheeks as he spoke.
"You can't die. Duo, we need you. Stay with us, please! You can't leave us. You're always saying that you're the god of death, but death can't die! You can't die, you just can't!"
With the reappearance of Trowa and Wufei, Quatre moved out into the hall to give the others more room to work. Heero stayed inside, supporting Duo's body as the other two worked to bandage the boy's arms. Quatre continued to murmur his pleas even as Duo was transported to his bed.
Knowing his friend needed blood, the blond pilot rolled up his sleeve. Understanding, Trowa began preparing the necessary equipment for the transfusion. Finding a vein in Duo was a problem. The boy has sliced open both forearms, preventing them from using any veins there. Eventually they found one and inserted the needle.
Blood began to flow through the tube, a red ribbon that was Duo's only hope. It seemed so fragile, as if one touch would break the ribbon, sever it forever. Quatre sat next to Duo's prone body, watching the blood flow between them. He felt himself getting weaker and knew he had to cut the ribbon soon. But not yet. Duo had lost so much blood, was still so pale…
Carefully monitoring the exchange, Trowa reached for the strip of rubber around Quatre's upper arm. The Arab opened his mouth to protest. He could still give more. He had to give more. No one else could, and Duo needed more…
Trowa held the smaller boy still while Heero pulled out the needles. Heero glared at Quatre, silently ordering the other to remember his own health. Quatre shut his mouth, turning his gaze back to the still form on the bed.
"The one time that onna Sally could be of use she's nowhere near." Wufei grumbled, glancing at Duo's body before walking out the door.
Trowa rose and followed Wufei outside. Heero and Quatre remained. They applied pressure to the still boy's torn arms, hoping to hurry the clotting.
Duo's heartbeat was still slow, his blood too thin. He was breathing shallowly. What with his diluted blood, the comatose boy couldn't be getting adequate oxygen. Even with the additional blood he'd just received… There had been too large a pool surrounding Duo's body, in his hair, in his clothes, but not his veins where it was needed.
Occasionally Quatre would lean over to listen to the soft breathing or faint heartbeat. He had not stopped murmuring, even though Duo could not answer. Heero kept silent, eyes on the motionless body before him.
While the two pilots kept vigil over their unconscious friend, Trowa and Wufei worked to clean the bathroom. Looking at the pool of blood covering the majority of the tile floor, Trowa felt vaguely awed. There was so much of it. It was almost hypnotizing, watching the light play over the red liquid. It shimmered, white streaks of light cutting across the dark, seemingly fixed surface.
Ripples disrupted the illusion, broke the spell.
"Oi, Trowa."
Trowa blinked, reached for the towels. In the end there were hardly any left unstained. Cleaning all this material would be hell. At least they wouldn't be low on water. All they had to do was figure out a way to melt ice collected from outside. Wufei and Trowa managed to remove the majority of the blood from both the bathroom and the hall floor, although the spaces between the individual tiles would forever be stained a brownish red. Wufei stepped outside with a bucket and returned along with a blast of wind. The towels were tossed in the bucket of freshly gather snow and ice. They would worry about the laundry later.
"I should have known he'd try something." Quatre murmured. "I should have know something was wrong when he didn't eat. This is my fault. If only I had paid more attention…!"
Heero sat, silently assisting his blond comrade. He made no move to convince the other boy that the current situation could not have been his fault. Instead he kept his eyes on Duo's pale face, his hands on Duo's bandaged arms. Heero concentrated on Duo's shallow breaths, willing the braided one to wake. The war was not yet won; the boy's piloting skills could still be used.
"No… Duo no…" Quatre's eyes widened, the dull throb in his chest increasing. "Duo… don't…please don't…"
Heero cocked an eyebrow, glanced at Quatre. Seeing the pleading, pained expression, he quickly found Duo's heartbeat. As his fingers located the faint pulse, the comatose boy's breathing faltered. Heero cursed softly as the pulse under his fingertips skipped a beat. By now Quatre had gone as pale as Duo, breaths coming hard and fast. He hunched over, wide blue eyes trained on his friend's face, mumbled pleas mixing with his breathing.
A scream tore itself from Duo's throat, wordless torment piercing his friends' ears. His eyes shot open, violet replaced by gray, gray empty of all that had made the boy Duo Maxwell. He ripped his arms from his comrades' hands, using fingers curved like claws to tear at his own face, throat, chest. Gray eyes remained empty, devoid of the agony expressed by the body.
Heero snatched Duo's hands away from his body, holding the struggling boy tight. The door burst open to admit Trowa and Wufei. Duo went limp, his body pitching forward, face landing on Heero's chest. Blood flowed, dark and red and thick.
Carefully Heero pushed his fallen comrade back on the pillows. Empty gray eyes tinged with red stared at the ceiling as the boy vainly searched for a heart beat. Heero passed his hand over those eyes, closing them. Quatre began to weep.
"We need to dispose of the body."
The blond pilot cried out at Trowa's emotionless statement.
"He's dead," Wufei spoke. "We need to get rid of the corpse before it rots."
Swallowing any disagreements Quatre nodded sadly. They were right. Duo's body would rot in the small house. He needed to be buried outside, laid to rest. Even so, that didn't mean Quatre couldn't mourn.
Heero lifted the cadaver in his arms, then motioned to the door with his head. The pilots filed silently outside. Although he was already wearing his jacket, Quatre shivered at the thought of venturing out into the snow. But they needed to do this, as a final act of courtesy to their dead friend.
The cadaver was buried hastily; perhaps only Heero seemed immune to the cold. Quatre bowed his head, saying a quick prayer, then followed his comrades back into the dubious warmth of the safe house. Without a word, Heero, Trowa and Wufei set about cleaning the mess of Duo's bed. Quatre sat at the table, staring at his hands. It was clear that none of this was quite real to him yet.
How long Quatre sat there he didn't know. He knew he should help the others, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to move. His body was frozen, stiff, just as Duo's must be. He knew his hands were folded in front of him, but he didn't see them. He was deaf to the sounds made by his friends, of the wind howling outside.
//Arms struggling, hands clawing, blood flowing. Empty gray eyes open wide. Limp body falling, resting on blood-soaked pillows. Hand over staring eyes, closing them. Backdrop: wordless agony, never-ending.//
A hand on his shoulder pulled the boy away from the mental scene replaying itself. Quatre looked up to see Trowa's blank face staring down at him. Forcing a tiny smile to his lips, the Arab stood. Without a word he retired to his room and lay staring at the ceiling.
The door opened, Trowa's quiet footsteps padded to the other bed. Rustling of bedclothes, then silence. If he concentrated, Quatre could hear the other boy's breathing, slowly evening out into the rhythm of sleep.
Once again the scene replayed itself, sounds echoing in the boy's head, images burning his eyes. Quietly he endured this, tears slipping down his cheeks. When sleep overtook him he joined the scene, the nightmarish visions haunting him all night.
~ Tsuzuku ~