Ratings: Shonen-ai . . . PG for very mild swearing and homosexuality
Pairings: 2x1/1x2
Summary: Duo Maxwell accepts a challenge he regrets involving his best friend. But how will Heero react? *AU* Rated PG for homosexuality and very mild swearing
Part Five: Panic and Desperation
I sigh. I've been getting really good at sighing lately. Here I am, hundreds of miles away from home. I know my parents are probably freaking right now, but that doesn't matter. Because of that stupid little bet, I've turned my best friend into the person I fear most.
Nice going, Maxwell.
I'm lucky Howard- gramps hates being called anything but his name- let me stay, no questions asked and no call home, despite the fact that I came on short notice. Scratch that, I came on *NO* notice.
As of this moment, I'm pacing restlessly through the fields. I finally come to a stop when I reach the tall pine tree in the center of the field- the very one that had helped me get over my acrophobia. I smile a little, thinking of when I told Heero about this place. About how I was scared to death of heights for the longest time. Just a normal day after school, hanging out and ditching homework to the last minute, like any other day.
Well, almost any other day. I scowl at myself. Don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about him...
It's starting to get pretty dark. I can hear Howard calling for me to come in, but I think I'll go take a walk. There's still enough light to see, and I know this place like the back of my hand. But I should let Howard know first.
So I head back to the farmhouse, where my granddaddy is waving in his Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses, despite the setting sun. Breaking out into a run, I'm in front of him in no time.
Once I tell him I'm going for a walk, I can see that he's not happy about the idea. But he's not saying anything about it. I guess he realizes I need to get away or something. Whatever the excuse, I'm glad I don't press the issue.
I'm turning to go when he speaks up.
"Duo... you said you're just going down to the 24-Hour Mart down the road?"
I nod.
"Don't take the shortcut. If you think it's dangerous during the day, it's ten times worse at night."
I mumble out a noncommital response and leave, knowing what shortcut he's talking about. About halfway down the road, there's this little side street- basically, a trashy neighborhood- that takes you right in front of the store, rather than going down the whole winded road. I figured I would take the long way anyway, because I wanted a long walk, but maybe a case of the jitters is just what I need to snap myself out of this deep funk.
I push Howard's warning to the back of my mind and, when I arrive at the side street, I turn.
Howard had nothing to worry about. I'm still safe and sound, and returning from the mart with a blaspberry smoothie. Sure, the shortcut was pretty creepy, and I felt like I was being watched or followed, but I'm still in one piece. Nothing attacked me, with the exception of a few bugs here and there. So there's bound to be nothing wrong going back, too.
Sipping my smoothie, I realize it's not a good idea to space out while walking down a street known for brawls that are not limited to fists, where even kindergardners carry a switchblade in their pockets. This realization has just come to me because I ran into something.
Or rather, someone.
I'm finding myself looking up blankly at a guy who's curled fist is the size of my head. I know this, because this head-sized fist has just buried itself into my gut. This nine-fingered fist.
Cursing, I keel over and struggle to stop myself from throwing up. The punch hurt, but it hadn't sent me reeling as badly as his hand did. The left one was missing a thumb- well, kind of. Instead of a thumb, there was... well, a nub. A grisly, revolting little chunk of flesh that, even in the night, is plainly dark and rotting at the edges of the skin. Oh, man, I feel like I'm gonna be sick!
"Hey, man," I wheeze, speaking because if I don't I'm going to let my dinner loose on the pavement. "Sorry about that! It was just an accident! I wasn't watching where-"
The words are cut off because someone has just come up behind me and kicked me, sending me rolling onto the ground and clutching my side. These cold bastards are strong!
The first guy leans his face down close to mine and, grabbing my neck where the hair attaches itself to my skin, he pulls me up. My face is scrunched up in pain- try having a nine-fingered guy lift *you* up by the base of your hair! He's grinning a crooked little smirk, and his breath reeks of alcohol and other substances, which I can only guess from the stench is not exactly legal.
"It's an accident," he hisses. "That you're halfway down my turf? That's about as much of an accident as this is."
Another punch, but this time it's on my left cheek. It's a miracle, really, that my jaw didn't splinter into a million pieces.
I'm on the ground again, bruised and bleeding and terribly out of breath. I've been in fights before, but this- this isn't a fight! I just touch the guy and he's all over me! But I'm no quitter. I slowly, painfully sit up.
And realize I'm surrounded.
Five or six other guys, faces masked by the night and each as cruel-looking as nine-fingers, are standing around me. Their yellow teeth and too-white eyes are the only things I can see clearly about them, and it's not a pretty picture.
I'm no newbie to streetfighting, but I've never been caught in anything serious like this. So even though I'm giving it all I've got, I know before I begin that I haven't the slightest chance. With even one of them, I could be dead in a second- I was no match for five or six. So it came as no surprise when, after throwing a few punches at me for sport, they knocked the wind out of me, tied up my wrists and ankles, and are dragging me to a rusty green truck parked beneath a tree.
I should have listened to Howard! But stupid me, I *had* to go for a walk in the dead of night alone, without even a damn flashlight! Why did I take this stupid shortcut? I know it's dangerous in this area, but it's plain as day that I'm not exactly thinking very clearly. So here I go, bound and gagged- corny as that sounds- by a handful of guys in black, being hauled into the back of a truck.
K'so.
I can feel the wetness that's threatening to spill over my shut eyelids, but bite my lip to keep it from becoming anything more than the slight dampness. I'm not going to cry, no matter how bleak the situation. So sue me for acting like a lovesick puppy, but I really don't feel like I have anything to live for, since Heero without a doubt hates me. Too bad for these guys that I don't have any valuables with me, except the silver cross necklace my father- who's a priest- gave me. And that necklace isn't gonna sell for much, especially since it has my name engraved in it. Oh, well, The worst that could happen is they'll beat me up and kill me, isn't it?
The window between the back of the truck and the inside is open slightly, and my kidnappers haven't started the engine yet, so I can hear them talking.
"He's real pretty for a guy, don't you think?" one says... Nine-Fingers. Even in my current predicament, that comment sounds so stupid that I roll my eyes. I know I look pretty feminine, and I'm used to hearing it all the time- but man, these idiots! They have me tied up, black and blue, in their truck and they're discussing my looks?
"Yep. He'll be fun."
Fun? What the hell are they gonna do, gimme a makeover?
"He seems pretty strong. Some nice muscles on his arms. Still didn't stand a chance, though. The best part is gonna be breaking him."
Like they haven't broken me as it is? But I'm groaning. Torture. Whooptie-doo, this is gonna be fun... not. How'd I get myself into this mess again? Oh, yeah. By kissing Heero.
"Think he has any idea what we have in store for him?"
A pretty good idea. Theft, a good beating, torture... and then there's that little not-very-enticing idea of a makeover.
"Doubt it. He probably thinks we're just gonna hit him around and kill him or something."
Huh? Now I'm confused. If that's not it, then what are they planning?
"That makes it all the more amusing. He's not gonna know what hit him, figuratively."
Figuratively? I'd have thought it would be literal.
"No kidding. If he lives through it, he's gonna be sore for weeks."
I kind of guessed that part.
"I wonder if he's still a virgin?"
Huh? What does *THAT* have anything to do with anything?! It's none of their damn business, anyw-
Wait. I get it. They're not just gonna hammer me. They're going to rape me.
Shit.
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A/N: *WEEP* Duo's been kidnapped! Those big, bad meanies are gonna hurt him... or will they? Hmmm... lemme think. One more chapter left!