Title: Performance, Chapter Three, Get the Steps Right
Summary: One word: Recovery.
Notes for the Reader: I have used verbs to portray the characters; hopefully this little chart will help you to understand it a bit more.
Heero: Indigo, Tension, Boy with No-Name, No-Named Boy, Command, Tap
Duo: Street Rat, Laughter, Rum, Drunk, Braided American, Cobalt Blue
Quatre: Platinum Blonde, Desert Prince, Greenish-Blue, Sip, (new one: Innocence or Perfect)
Trowa: Circus Clown, Green-eyed, Click
Wufei: Black, Boy with Black Hair, Pur, Meditate, Perch
(And any other little thing that adds on somehow. ^^;)
(I'll use these words to portray their bond, etc etc.. Silence. Understanding. Code. You know?)
Oh yes, another thing, the word "Cheese" is used to portray Women, Sex, Clues, anything 'mysterious' if you know what I mean. Think unknown but you want it.
It's actually really easy to understand after a while; hopefully you guys are okay with it! =) If you see anything that I forgot to add just email me or leave it in a review and I'll change it as quickly as possible.
==
The hospital clock read 8:45 pm. But he didn't trust it, it just so happened he didn't trust anything.
The Street Rat didn't trust the bland walls, the perfect lighting above his head or the green and brown tiles mixed upon the floor. He didn't trust the perfect Desert Prince, he didn't dare face a green-eyed Circus Clown, he couldn't beat a meditating Boy with Black Hair, and he couldn't overrule the Boy with Indigo Eyes. Duo Maxwell was broken, poor, and friendless. like a Street Rat. Stripped.
.After the dance.
Heero Yuy led the way down the cheap wooden steps towards the car, not looking at the girls inside. Quatre Winner ran up to his side, knowing what they had to do.
No sip, just tension. "Are we going to report him?" His Greenish-Blue eyes cautiously approaching Indigo.
All four walked down the steps, slowly but surely. Heero walked down slowly, leading the way for Quatre, Wufei then Trowa, each one awaiting what to do next. Trowa already held his cell phone, reading Indigo's mind.
The Circus Clown shrugged, no pointed shoulders, plain. "It's your call."
Silence.
Wufei looked up at the approaching storm clouds. His black eyes, rimmed with patience. As he looked up he paused, his neck muscles outstretched, blowing a slanted breath through his indifferent lips, blinking slowly but surely, rain was coming.
The Boy with Platinum Blonde hair sighed, shrugging with defeat. He looked up at Heero a final time, nearly rolling his eyes but being cautious to not disrupt him. Instead, increasing the tension with a mocking blink, only blinking, Innocence.
Understanding.
Quatre received the signal with the blink of empty Indigo. Racing him without challenge he ran toward the car, rain following his every foot step. All the girls looking up at him questionably, Hilde's eyes glittering with worry.
Cheese.
The Others paused, allowing Quatre to fabricate a lying story, slowing time down to nurture the Girls' understanding. With a silent nod, it was done.
Indigo turned around, not remotely, not like a Street Rat, just like a boy with his eyes would and paused, correcting the Clown. "No, you're wrong. It's your call." Turning quickly and more steadily this time, he slowly arched his feet towards the car, ignoring the faint dripping of wet birth on his shoulders. Black followed a three second interval.
And so it was done.
Seventy eight seconds.
The Green-Eyed Boy walked to the car, no rush. The Girls' used innocent, tender-loving eyes, to pity the lies an Innocent Boy poured upon them. Trowa hopped into the car, signaling for Heero to drive.
Warning. "You have two minutes to two hours." The Circus Clown leaned back next to Cathy, not content, just doing the job he was trained to do. Doing it almost perfectly.
She pushed him, hitting a soft spot, almost breaking a code. "For what?" Cathy's blue eyed reflected rain into his Green, she pricked his hand, slowly but surely. Soft enough to click, hard enough to ask.
All four pilots looked at each other, their eyes shifting steadily, slowly but surely the Code was spoken. The Desert Prince spoke up, quick enough to save and slow enough to reassure. With a smile he looked at everyone, Innocently. "To get there of course."
Dorothy suspected something, so she questioned, only to be shot down. But that would be ignored. "To where?"
"A surprise of course." Sally answered for Wufei, she was a warrior too, and she understood how it worked. Her female friends looked at her, the Boys content and thankful. Most of them held some Understanding.
With the click of a button, and the whisper of a clown, quick reservations were made. Slowly but surely, it was done. Like most everything they had tended too.
Trowa cleared his throat, and then Heero drove.
Quite a while later, Duo was no longer at home.
.
He sat in the same position. So it was true, he was under an influence. Duo Maxwell looked up to the circling light above him, nodding his head. Injections.
They came in, two hour intervals, to inject his poison. His lovely, healing, positive, hell born cure. Each time, he did nothing, but sit there blankly.
They took his blood, more testing. Duo laughed. Street Rat style.
It was going to be messy, but this time he would try to get it right.
.
Don't glare at me boy.
Just because you're broken.
Doesn't mean a thing.
...
1:47 am.
Four Rats sat in a hotel room, discussing and chatting. The Head of the Rats spoke, slowly but surely, he spoke.
"I hacked the hospital Trowa called; he was under the influence of anonymous drugs." He spoke, not surprised but speaking in a calm but mocking manner. Quatre bowed his head.
"So he's a cracker. We can live with that." Trowa stood at the window, looking onward to the hospital that stood at its side. It was only one street away. Easy as pie. Or Cheese.
Wufei leaned on his perch in the very corner, listening and observing, watching, waiting. Slowly but surely this night would come to an end. Quatre sat on his chair, elbows attached to his knees, hands attached to his head. It was a mess, but that wasn't Duo's fault. Political correction. Trowa still stared out the window, hands in his pockets, cell phone placed at the back. Understanding. But Heero, he was a different story.
He sat at the table, clicking and tapping away rabidly, feasting on the information that scrolled quickly across the screen.
"Knowing Duo he would try and escape, it's what he was trained to do." Trowa's breath hung on the window, slowly but surely, it hung. His green eyes stared at the glowing lights of the hospital, ready for Action.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Quatre looked up from his nest. "That's what all of us would do. But none of us were on drugs at the time either." The Desert Prince sighed; it left a mark in his Sands of Time.
No tap. "How do you figure?" One of the many Rats spoke up; Quatre swam in his river of thought. He didn't hear which tone of voice spoke, it was remote.
He stood up this time, solving a puzzle. "Well, when we were forced to escape from captive situations we were all perfectly sane, acting on our own senses. But Duo isn't acting on his own senses at the moment. So he could do what we don't expect or do what we expect, or not do anything at all." The Desert Prince finished the puzzle, biting down on the clues as he dug, further and further down as he dared.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Trowa clicked to confirm the understanding. "So then, what's the new plan?" His green eyes glanced at Heero's reflection in the glass. Heero did nothing to notice.
"We let Duo make a move." Wufei took a deep, patience breath. Duo was beginning to rake down on his nerves. But that was the point, to break. But he was far from that, Duo was already crumbling.
"If he doesn't make a move?" Quatre began to settle himself on the cough, fluffing the pillows as he pleased, making them just right. Done in a slowly but surely fashion.
Pur. Click. No sip. Tension.
Silence.
"Then we do." Heero stopped from his constant tapping. He took a deep breath, eyeing the left wall, the Girls slept soundly, believing that Duo was okay. Hilarious almost.
The Circus Clown still looked out the window, his murderous eyes staring into the hospital window, unable to find what he was searching for. "When will that be?"
Indigo tapped down on the eyes lightly this time searching and deciding, multitasking. He looked up at Wufei and Trowa, perched, both motionless, Quatre lay listening intently on the couch. "Twenty five hundred."
Code. Each one nodded slowly, in unison, each one lifted their left arm. Checking their watches and setting the alarms. 2:55 am. Deal.
Quatre yawned, flailing his arms upward. He turned over, blinking his eyes rapidly, readying himself to sleep. "Night."
Pur. Click. Tension. There was no laughter, no rum, no Street Rat.
.
The Street Rat sat in his little room, readying himself to rest. He hadn't laughed in two hours; the Rat had learned how to get some Cheese. Silence.
He tilted his head back, smiling. Still suffering from hysteria, his eyes rolling and bouncing off his eyelids; it was time to go to sleep.
Duo Maxwell looked up at the ceiling, Poker-Faced, cocking his head to the right. Giggling inside of him, smiling on the outside with his eyes, the Street Rat laughed out loud.
Eighty three seconds.
He was still stuck.
Five thousand four hundred eighty two seconds.
The Street Rat was sleeping.
Twenty five hundred hours.
It would be their turn to make a move.
==
Author's Note: I'm really loving how this is turning out!! =) =) Please if you read please review! How'd you like this chapter? You know, that usual questions I like to ask. I want to know how the reader (you) enjoyed the monologue and the conversation between the guys and Duo by himself. So you know.. Leave a beep after the message kind of thing. =) Sorry if there happen to be any typos or mistakes, I only read this one five times and didn't really do much of a job editing. So, you know. Merry Christmas again, decided to update WAY early. (DID I GET THE MILITARY TIME RIGHT!?!?!?!)
Summary: One word: Recovery.
Notes for the Reader: I have used verbs to portray the characters; hopefully this little chart will help you to understand it a bit more.
Heero: Indigo, Tension, Boy with No-Name, No-Named Boy, Command, Tap
Duo: Street Rat, Laughter, Rum, Drunk, Braided American, Cobalt Blue
Quatre: Platinum Blonde, Desert Prince, Greenish-Blue, Sip, (new one: Innocence or Perfect)
Trowa: Circus Clown, Green-eyed, Click
Wufei: Black, Boy with Black Hair, Pur, Meditate, Perch
(And any other little thing that adds on somehow. ^^;)
(I'll use these words to portray their bond, etc etc.. Silence. Understanding. Code. You know?)
Oh yes, another thing, the word "Cheese" is used to portray Women, Sex, Clues, anything 'mysterious' if you know what I mean. Think unknown but you want it.
It's actually really easy to understand after a while; hopefully you guys are okay with it! =) If you see anything that I forgot to add just email me or leave it in a review and I'll change it as quickly as possible.
==
The hospital clock read 8:45 pm. But he didn't trust it, it just so happened he didn't trust anything.
The Street Rat didn't trust the bland walls, the perfect lighting above his head or the green and brown tiles mixed upon the floor. He didn't trust the perfect Desert Prince, he didn't dare face a green-eyed Circus Clown, he couldn't beat a meditating Boy with Black Hair, and he couldn't overrule the Boy with Indigo Eyes. Duo Maxwell was broken, poor, and friendless. like a Street Rat. Stripped.
.After the dance.
Heero Yuy led the way down the cheap wooden steps towards the car, not looking at the girls inside. Quatre Winner ran up to his side, knowing what they had to do.
No sip, just tension. "Are we going to report him?" His Greenish-Blue eyes cautiously approaching Indigo.
All four walked down the steps, slowly but surely. Heero walked down slowly, leading the way for Quatre, Wufei then Trowa, each one awaiting what to do next. Trowa already held his cell phone, reading Indigo's mind.
The Circus Clown shrugged, no pointed shoulders, plain. "It's your call."
Silence.
Wufei looked up at the approaching storm clouds. His black eyes, rimmed with patience. As he looked up he paused, his neck muscles outstretched, blowing a slanted breath through his indifferent lips, blinking slowly but surely, rain was coming.
The Boy with Platinum Blonde hair sighed, shrugging with defeat. He looked up at Heero a final time, nearly rolling his eyes but being cautious to not disrupt him. Instead, increasing the tension with a mocking blink, only blinking, Innocence.
Understanding.
Quatre received the signal with the blink of empty Indigo. Racing him without challenge he ran toward the car, rain following his every foot step. All the girls looking up at him questionably, Hilde's eyes glittering with worry.
Cheese.
The Others paused, allowing Quatre to fabricate a lying story, slowing time down to nurture the Girls' understanding. With a silent nod, it was done.
Indigo turned around, not remotely, not like a Street Rat, just like a boy with his eyes would and paused, correcting the Clown. "No, you're wrong. It's your call." Turning quickly and more steadily this time, he slowly arched his feet towards the car, ignoring the faint dripping of wet birth on his shoulders. Black followed a three second interval.
And so it was done.
Seventy eight seconds.
The Green-Eyed Boy walked to the car, no rush. The Girls' used innocent, tender-loving eyes, to pity the lies an Innocent Boy poured upon them. Trowa hopped into the car, signaling for Heero to drive.
Warning. "You have two minutes to two hours." The Circus Clown leaned back next to Cathy, not content, just doing the job he was trained to do. Doing it almost perfectly.
She pushed him, hitting a soft spot, almost breaking a code. "For what?" Cathy's blue eyed reflected rain into his Green, she pricked his hand, slowly but surely. Soft enough to click, hard enough to ask.
All four pilots looked at each other, their eyes shifting steadily, slowly but surely the Code was spoken. The Desert Prince spoke up, quick enough to save and slow enough to reassure. With a smile he looked at everyone, Innocently. "To get there of course."
Dorothy suspected something, so she questioned, only to be shot down. But that would be ignored. "To where?"
"A surprise of course." Sally answered for Wufei, she was a warrior too, and she understood how it worked. Her female friends looked at her, the Boys content and thankful. Most of them held some Understanding.
With the click of a button, and the whisper of a clown, quick reservations were made. Slowly but surely, it was done. Like most everything they had tended too.
Trowa cleared his throat, and then Heero drove.
Quite a while later, Duo was no longer at home.
.
He sat in the same position. So it was true, he was under an influence. Duo Maxwell looked up to the circling light above him, nodding his head. Injections.
They came in, two hour intervals, to inject his poison. His lovely, healing, positive, hell born cure. Each time, he did nothing, but sit there blankly.
They took his blood, more testing. Duo laughed. Street Rat style.
It was going to be messy, but this time he would try to get it right.
.
Don't glare at me boy.
Just because you're broken.
Doesn't mean a thing.
...
1:47 am.
Four Rats sat in a hotel room, discussing and chatting. The Head of the Rats spoke, slowly but surely, he spoke.
"I hacked the hospital Trowa called; he was under the influence of anonymous drugs." He spoke, not surprised but speaking in a calm but mocking manner. Quatre bowed his head.
"So he's a cracker. We can live with that." Trowa stood at the window, looking onward to the hospital that stood at its side. It was only one street away. Easy as pie. Or Cheese.
Wufei leaned on his perch in the very corner, listening and observing, watching, waiting. Slowly but surely this night would come to an end. Quatre sat on his chair, elbows attached to his knees, hands attached to his head. It was a mess, but that wasn't Duo's fault. Political correction. Trowa still stared out the window, hands in his pockets, cell phone placed at the back. Understanding. But Heero, he was a different story.
He sat at the table, clicking and tapping away rabidly, feasting on the information that scrolled quickly across the screen.
"Knowing Duo he would try and escape, it's what he was trained to do." Trowa's breath hung on the window, slowly but surely, it hung. His green eyes stared at the glowing lights of the hospital, ready for Action.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Quatre looked up from his nest. "That's what all of us would do. But none of us were on drugs at the time either." The Desert Prince sighed; it left a mark in his Sands of Time.
No tap. "How do you figure?" One of the many Rats spoke up; Quatre swam in his river of thought. He didn't hear which tone of voice spoke, it was remote.
He stood up this time, solving a puzzle. "Well, when we were forced to escape from captive situations we were all perfectly sane, acting on our own senses. But Duo isn't acting on his own senses at the moment. So he could do what we don't expect or do what we expect, or not do anything at all." The Desert Prince finished the puzzle, biting down on the clues as he dug, further and further down as he dared.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Trowa clicked to confirm the understanding. "So then, what's the new plan?" His green eyes glanced at Heero's reflection in the glass. Heero did nothing to notice.
"We let Duo make a move." Wufei took a deep, patience breath. Duo was beginning to rake down on his nerves. But that was the point, to break. But he was far from that, Duo was already crumbling.
"If he doesn't make a move?" Quatre began to settle himself on the cough, fluffing the pillows as he pleased, making them just right. Done in a slowly but surely fashion.
Pur. Click. No sip. Tension.
Silence.
"Then we do." Heero stopped from his constant tapping. He took a deep breath, eyeing the left wall, the Girls slept soundly, believing that Duo was okay. Hilarious almost.
The Circus Clown still looked out the window, his murderous eyes staring into the hospital window, unable to find what he was searching for. "When will that be?"
Indigo tapped down on the eyes lightly this time searching and deciding, multitasking. He looked up at Wufei and Trowa, perched, both motionless, Quatre lay listening intently on the couch. "Twenty five hundred."
Code. Each one nodded slowly, in unison, each one lifted their left arm. Checking their watches and setting the alarms. 2:55 am. Deal.
Quatre yawned, flailing his arms upward. He turned over, blinking his eyes rapidly, readying himself to sleep. "Night."
Pur. Click. Tension. There was no laughter, no rum, no Street Rat.
.
The Street Rat sat in his little room, readying himself to rest. He hadn't laughed in two hours; the Rat had learned how to get some Cheese. Silence.
He tilted his head back, smiling. Still suffering from hysteria, his eyes rolling and bouncing off his eyelids; it was time to go to sleep.
Duo Maxwell looked up at the ceiling, Poker-Faced, cocking his head to the right. Giggling inside of him, smiling on the outside with his eyes, the Street Rat laughed out loud.
Eighty three seconds.
He was still stuck.
Five thousand four hundred eighty two seconds.
The Street Rat was sleeping.
Twenty five hundred hours.
It would be their turn to make a move.
==
Author's Note: I'm really loving how this is turning out!! =) =) Please if you read please review! How'd you like this chapter? You know, that usual questions I like to ask. I want to know how the reader (you) enjoyed the monologue and the conversation between the guys and Duo by himself. So you know.. Leave a beep after the message kind of thing. =) Sorry if there happen to be any typos or mistakes, I only read this one five times and didn't really do much of a job editing. So, you know. Merry Christmas again, decided to update WAY early. (DID I GET THE MILITARY TIME RIGHT!?!?!?!)