Author's Note: Don't feel like writing a note. :p Nyah!
Disclaimer: Or one of these, either. :p Bwahaha! Nyyyah!!
PART SEVEN
The temperature of the room rose several degrees. Heero had the horrible crawling feeling of being watched, reminding him of the malevolent sun in his most recent dream. Duo gasped, glancing all around the room suspiciously. Trowa seemed unaffected, but there was tension in the set of his shoulders and jaw. He was staring at Quatre, his visible eye worried. Heero followed his gaze.
As he watched, the air around Quatre seemed to grow thicker, like a veil. Heero had to squint to make him out, as if his eyes wouldn't focus properly. They kept trying to slip from Quatre's form, and it took a concentrated effort not to let them. Quatre himself appeared greatly fatigued, panting for breath. He sank back against the arm of the couch with his eyes closed.
"Quatre?" Trowa asked. The blonde boy gave no response. Sweat had broken out all over his forehead, and his breath rasped hollowly in his throat.
A movement from the corner of his eye made Heero turn. Wufei was staggering across the open area between couches. His eyes weren't focused on Quatre, but a few feet above their heads. Anger blazed in those abysmal black eyes, barely contained rage twisting his features into a mask. He held a hand in front of himself, palm outward. With a jerking motion, he raised it. Heero felt a wave of tingling wash over him, making the hairs on his arms stand up.
The haze around Quatre faded for a moment, then returned. Wufei swayed on his feet.
"It... it's got its hooks in him... " he almost sighed just before his eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed in a heap on the floor.
"Wufei!" Duo cried, going into action. The American leapt off his sofa and knelt at Wufei's side. He grabbed his shoulders and shook him hard. "C'mon, man! Wake up! What should we do?"
Wufei blinked, coming around... barely. "I need... energy..."
"You got it man! Take it from me, whatever, okay? Just save Quatre!" the braided boy commanded, reaching down to take Wufei's hands in his own.
As soon as their skin met, Duo stiffened. He grimaced, his sharp intake of breath hissing between his teeth as his back arched. He opened his mouth, his throat straining as if he wanted to scream but no sound would come out. Heero didn't know he was moving until he was at Duo's side. The charged atmosphere around the two pilots gave him cause to hesitate, but he only did so for half a second. He grabbed each of their wrists, intending to pull them apart.
This proved to be a mistake. His muscles seized in the agony of having his life force tapped. He couldn't force himself to let go. His hair stood on end, crackling and snapping with static electricity.
Energy swelled to an impossible strength, then pulsed, spreading out from the three of them. The floodgates opened; there was no stopping it. The wave roared in all direction, shoving the odd, heavy thickness out, mere flotsam on a tsunami. Through a haze of pain and abrupt fatigue, Heero saw Trowa cover Quatre's form with his own body, but it washed right ~through~ him -
* How do I know that? *
- and through Quatre. The blonde screamed as it did so, then sank limply into the couch again. Trowa held onto him tightly, wrapping his long arms around the shorter boy's shoulders and waist.
And then all was still, save for their raged breathing. Heero felt something wet on his face. He uncurled his painfully protesting hands from the others' wrists and slowly touched them to his face. His blood dripped down his chin and arms, splattering on the carpet. He blacked out.
Wufei strove to remain conscious. If he fainted now, he wouldn't wake up for a least three days. They didn't have that kind of time to waste. He had to think, and think fast.
"T-Trowa, wake Quatre. Don't let him fall asleep, we need to - to check him," he gasped, releasing Duo's hand.
"Check him for what?" Trowa asked, shaking Quatre.
"The thing that we - have managed to dispel," he panted. "It has power of him. We have to - see - if the connection - is broken."
"What if it's not?" Duo wanted to know, and peered down groggily. Wufei glanced up at him sharply, gauging him. His pupils were the same size, which was a good thing, but he looked... too bright, too fresh.
* He's going to go into shock. I have to work quickly. *
"Then we're in deep shit," he replied, getting up. Yuy was a crumpled heap next to them, bleeding from his nose. * Bakayarou. You shouldn't have interfered. You weren't prepared. * "Duo, go get Heero cleaned up."
Duo blinked, then looked over at Heero. He gasped as his eyes widened, a flash of confused emotions playing across his features. But before Wufei could assess them, he stood and gathered Heero up in his arms. Then he staggered away, disappearing down the hall that led to their rooms. Hopefully, a task based solely in the physical realm would help ground him, get what meager energy he had left pulled together. At least, this is what Wufei profoundly hoped.
He turned back to Trowa and Quatre. Trowa was having no luck at waking Quatre. Wufei resisted a growl of frustration. He crossed the short distance to the couch, hand raised again. This time it came down with a resounding smack against Quatre's cheek. The boy jerked awake as Trowa grabbed Wufei's wrist and glared at him. Wufei returned the look coolly.
"Let go. We don't have time for this," he said.
Reluctantly, Trowa relinquished his hold, but continued to stare accusingly at him. Wufei chose to ignore this and bent over Quatre, who seemed very but understandably disoriented.
"Quatre. Quatre, can you hear me?"
"W-'fei?" Quatre asked, trying to sit up. Trowa placed a hand on his chest and forced him to lie still. Wufei shot him a grateful glance. "What's going on?"
"Calm down. The thing came back. I need to see if we got rid of all of it," Wufei explained. "I need to see inside your head."
"Oh. How're you goin' t' do tha'?" the Arabian slurred, obviously struggling to stay awake.
"Just stay relaxed and don't fight me," he said, then placed his fingers over Quatre's temples and closed his eyes to concentrate better.
His pool of energy had dwindled to less than a fourth of its natural size, but he squeezed yet more from it in order to enter Quatre's mind. In his ~sight~ Quatre was a green-blue ball of life-force, swirling and changing. Other colors, the boy's aura, shifted colors, gray to bright red to black to blue to poison green. He was not healthy. But then Wufei encountered something strange. Instead of blocks, there were natural shields. The construction was different from his own mental shields, and from that he could tell they had always been there, that Quatre was probably unaware of them. They weren't as thick as proper shields, so that meant they probably "leaked" a great deal.
*( Newtype. )* * I'd always wanted to know what made them so different. No blocks, but no ability either. Just some pretty weak shields. No wonder it went for him. He's the easiest prey an energy vampire could hope for. *
There was no time. He memorized the details to ponder later, and went on. Quatre opened himself as he approached. That was only a mild surprise; Quatre new instinctively what it'd take ~him~ years to learn. He dove in, not having the energy to waste on being overly gentle. But he was experienced and careful, so he hoped that it wasn't' too uncomfortable for the blonde boy. The alien but paradoxically familiar sensation of having your consciousness being engulfed by another surrounded him, and he began to search for traces of the darkness in Quatre.
Thoughts and emotions and memories flitted by, but Wufei politely didn't watch them. He wasn't in here to pry. He rifled through Quatre's subconscious quickly and efficiently, missing no nuance in the coloration of the energy. He was beginning to hope that maybe they'd succeeded in getting rid of the thing. But then he saw where it was hiding.
A coil of a black so profound that it wasn't a color, that it was the complete void of color laced its insidious self around the very core of Quatre, the bright pulsing center of Quatre's life force. It would be greatly shielded from all outside influences by the rest of Quatre's being, and at any direct attempt to remove it, it could simply tighten around the core and extinguish the flame of life. Wufei felt sick.
* Oh God. There's nothing I can do. I was too late, too weak, and now Quatre could die for my negligence! *
And as if he to prove that his helplessness was complete, the tendril of evil expanded suddenly, enveloping the bright nucleus. completely.
"NOOOOOO!" he screamed mentally and physically as the horrible thing lashed out at him, driving him back into his own body with the force of an explosion. He was thrown off balance and fell backwards, landing hard a few feet away. Quatre was unconscious again, and very, very pale. Trowa was watching him with ill-concealed worry and fear.
"It's still got him. I've failed you. I'm sorry," he grit out through the incredible return migraine that throbbing in his skull. Then there was white.
Duo knew he was immensely drained. That is, intellectually he knew this, but his body seemed to have other ideas. He fairly jogged into his bathroom, careful not to bang bits of Heero on the doorframe. He was grateful to get away from the scene of such weirdness. The ~really~ strange part was that he was starting to see it in a different light, starting to think he might understand some of it.
* A little. Maybe. *
He laid the insensible Heero in the bathtub, propping him up against the back of the basin so his he wouldn't drown in his own blood or swallow much of it. Duo then stripped off the stained green tank-top, and, figuring that a few more stains wouldn't matter, used it to wipe as much of the coagulating and sticky, rusty substance from Heero's arms and face. Then he wet a wash cloth with cold water and pressed it under Heero's nose. It was almost comforting - in a twisted way - reminding him of the times after missions when he and Heero had helped each other with first aid. While the memories were of equally hard and complicated and confusing times, they were familiar.
* I wonder how badly he was hurt in his fall from Wing. * Duo frowned. * I hope he doesn't have a concussion. *
Eventually the bleeding stopped, but Heero still hadn't come around. Duo rinsed out the washcloth and began cleaning him up. He cleaned his chiseled chest, neck, wiry forearms, and calloused hands. Finally, Duo was done and sat back uncertainly. There was something strange about watching Heero when he wasn't awake. When his face was relaxed, he looked younger, less forbidding. Attractive - It was unnerving. He was supposed to be completely invulnerable, totally in control. But sleep happened to Heero Yuy just like it happened to everyone else.
* So will death. *
He didn't know where the thought came from, but it made him even more nervous, and nauseous to boot. He couldn't conceive of Heero being dead. He didn't ~want~ him to be dead. Ever.
Duo looked away from Heero's face. His eyes burned, and his throat ached. He yawned widely to relieve the problem.
* Guess whatever the hell Wu did back there took a lot out of me. I need sleep. *
He glanced down at Heero again.
* But it might be a while before ~he~ snaps out of it. It can't be too comfortable in there. Where can I put him... *
He sighed and once again lifted Heero. His arms protested, but he managed it. He walked sideways out of the bathroom and into the main room, again succeeding in not bumping Heero against anything. He was almost to his disheveled bed when Heero woke up and they fell over.
Heero came alert with a jerk, and every part of his body objected to the movement. There was something off from the start; the balance was wrong. He instinctively tried to pull himself upright, but because the thing he grabbed onto was also falling, this did very little good. He tensed in preparation for impact.
He landed hard on his back; bruises formed from his earlier mishap screamed. A split second later, something heavy and bony landed on top of him. He clenched his teeth until the pain subsided, then opened his eyes. He found himself mere inches away from Duo's face. Large indigo eyes stared down at him in surprise. Warm, panting breath washed over his face, and Duo tensed oddly.
* Ne? * was his first thought.
Time seemed to slow, almost stop, measured by each intake of breath, every thundering heartbeat. For a dark, smouldering moment, Heero was confused. The weight on top of him, while uncomfortable due to his injuries, was not unwelcome. And the heat radiating from Duo inflamed him, making his face darken. It was not like the terrible, cruel heat of the desert. This was a flame from a kiln just below his abdomen. What was this? What was going on? And then realization hit him like a punch in the gut.
* Kuso. * was his next thought.
"Heero? You okay?" Duo asked.
* Get off me! *
He tried to roll over, to push Duo away from him, but to his dismay, he couldn't lift his arms. His muscles barely responded to his commands, just clenching weakly as he struggled to move. Then he tried to speak, but all that came out was a wordless groan. He closed his eyes in humiliation and frustration. ~What was going on?~
"Oh no, don't do that. C'mon, Heero, stay with me, buddy," he heard Duo say, and then felt light but stinging slaps administered to his face. He opened his eyes again to glare up at him. Duo only smiled in relief. "Good. Don't pass out just yet, okay? Need to check and see if you have a concussion first."
Duo pulled himself up and off of Heero, who shivered as soon as the air-conditioned air met previously warmed flesh. He quelled a pang of loss, harshly strangling it before it finished forming. Then Duo knelt, slipping his arms behind Heero's shoulders and thighs and lifting the Japanese boy off the floor. Heero tensed his pathetically weak muscles and glared for all he was worth. Surely this must be worse than any torture OZ could dream up for its prisoners. He hated to be so helpless.
Duo set him down on the bed, propping him in a half-sitting position with pillows. Then he knelt on the bed beside him. As there was not much he could do to stop the other, he endured a sometimes painful examination of his head. Finally, Duo sat back on his heels, staring at him and shaking his head. He gave a low whistle.
"Man, I want to know if that Dr. J guy replaced your skull with gundanium. No concussion, just some bruising," Duo said, scratching the back of his head. His hands were shaking. "I'm just going to go tell Wufei. And before you ask, I have no idea what went on out there, or why you passed out in the first place, or if Quatre's okay. You stay here and..."
He trailed off, his eyes unfocusing. He shook his head as if to clear it, but this only seemed to make him dizzy.
"Stay here and - g-get some... rest... " he said, then slowly toppled over. He was unconscious before his head hit the mattress.
Heero waited for the matress to stop jouncing. He took a small measure of guilty comfort that he was not the only one so incredibly drained. He stared blankly for a while, his confused emotions and thoughts buzzing in his head until darkness overtook him for the third time that day.
END PART SEVEN
Eros: Wow. Lots of black-outs and fainting in this part.
Thalia: Overused plot device, or a government conspiracy?
Psyche: It's all a conspiracy, man, it's the men in the black helicopters, man! They're trying to steal our thoughts, man, and make sure we don't ~know~ that they know that we know that they know that we ~know~ about them, man!
Thalia and Eros: O_o
Thalia: Was she like this when you two started dating?
Eros:...............
Psyche: REEEEEVIIIIIIIEEEEEW, man!
Disclaimer: Or one of these, either. :p Bwahaha! Nyyyah!!
PART SEVEN
The temperature of the room rose several degrees. Heero had the horrible crawling feeling of being watched, reminding him of the malevolent sun in his most recent dream. Duo gasped, glancing all around the room suspiciously. Trowa seemed unaffected, but there was tension in the set of his shoulders and jaw. He was staring at Quatre, his visible eye worried. Heero followed his gaze.
As he watched, the air around Quatre seemed to grow thicker, like a veil. Heero had to squint to make him out, as if his eyes wouldn't focus properly. They kept trying to slip from Quatre's form, and it took a concentrated effort not to let them. Quatre himself appeared greatly fatigued, panting for breath. He sank back against the arm of the couch with his eyes closed.
"Quatre?" Trowa asked. The blonde boy gave no response. Sweat had broken out all over his forehead, and his breath rasped hollowly in his throat.
A movement from the corner of his eye made Heero turn. Wufei was staggering across the open area between couches. His eyes weren't focused on Quatre, but a few feet above their heads. Anger blazed in those abysmal black eyes, barely contained rage twisting his features into a mask. He held a hand in front of himself, palm outward. With a jerking motion, he raised it. Heero felt a wave of tingling wash over him, making the hairs on his arms stand up.
The haze around Quatre faded for a moment, then returned. Wufei swayed on his feet.
"It... it's got its hooks in him... " he almost sighed just before his eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed in a heap on the floor.
"Wufei!" Duo cried, going into action. The American leapt off his sofa and knelt at Wufei's side. He grabbed his shoulders and shook him hard. "C'mon, man! Wake up! What should we do?"
Wufei blinked, coming around... barely. "I need... energy..."
"You got it man! Take it from me, whatever, okay? Just save Quatre!" the braided boy commanded, reaching down to take Wufei's hands in his own.
As soon as their skin met, Duo stiffened. He grimaced, his sharp intake of breath hissing between his teeth as his back arched. He opened his mouth, his throat straining as if he wanted to scream but no sound would come out. Heero didn't know he was moving until he was at Duo's side. The charged atmosphere around the two pilots gave him cause to hesitate, but he only did so for half a second. He grabbed each of their wrists, intending to pull them apart.
This proved to be a mistake. His muscles seized in the agony of having his life force tapped. He couldn't force himself to let go. His hair stood on end, crackling and snapping with static electricity.
Energy swelled to an impossible strength, then pulsed, spreading out from the three of them. The floodgates opened; there was no stopping it. The wave roared in all direction, shoving the odd, heavy thickness out, mere flotsam on a tsunami. Through a haze of pain and abrupt fatigue, Heero saw Trowa cover Quatre's form with his own body, but it washed right ~through~ him -
* How do I know that? *
- and through Quatre. The blonde screamed as it did so, then sank limply into the couch again. Trowa held onto him tightly, wrapping his long arms around the shorter boy's shoulders and waist.
And then all was still, save for their raged breathing. Heero felt something wet on his face. He uncurled his painfully protesting hands from the others' wrists and slowly touched them to his face. His blood dripped down his chin and arms, splattering on the carpet. He blacked out.
Wufei strove to remain conscious. If he fainted now, he wouldn't wake up for a least three days. They didn't have that kind of time to waste. He had to think, and think fast.
"T-Trowa, wake Quatre. Don't let him fall asleep, we need to - to check him," he gasped, releasing Duo's hand.
"Check him for what?" Trowa asked, shaking Quatre.
"The thing that we - have managed to dispel," he panted. "It has power of him. We have to - see - if the connection - is broken."
"What if it's not?" Duo wanted to know, and peered down groggily. Wufei glanced up at him sharply, gauging him. His pupils were the same size, which was a good thing, but he looked... too bright, too fresh.
* He's going to go into shock. I have to work quickly. *
"Then we're in deep shit," he replied, getting up. Yuy was a crumpled heap next to them, bleeding from his nose. * Bakayarou. You shouldn't have interfered. You weren't prepared. * "Duo, go get Heero cleaned up."
Duo blinked, then looked over at Heero. He gasped as his eyes widened, a flash of confused emotions playing across his features. But before Wufei could assess them, he stood and gathered Heero up in his arms. Then he staggered away, disappearing down the hall that led to their rooms. Hopefully, a task based solely in the physical realm would help ground him, get what meager energy he had left pulled together. At least, this is what Wufei profoundly hoped.
He turned back to Trowa and Quatre. Trowa was having no luck at waking Quatre. Wufei resisted a growl of frustration. He crossed the short distance to the couch, hand raised again. This time it came down with a resounding smack against Quatre's cheek. The boy jerked awake as Trowa grabbed Wufei's wrist and glared at him. Wufei returned the look coolly.
"Let go. We don't have time for this," he said.
Reluctantly, Trowa relinquished his hold, but continued to stare accusingly at him. Wufei chose to ignore this and bent over Quatre, who seemed very but understandably disoriented.
"Quatre. Quatre, can you hear me?"
"W-'fei?" Quatre asked, trying to sit up. Trowa placed a hand on his chest and forced him to lie still. Wufei shot him a grateful glance. "What's going on?"
"Calm down. The thing came back. I need to see if we got rid of all of it," Wufei explained. "I need to see inside your head."
"Oh. How're you goin' t' do tha'?" the Arabian slurred, obviously struggling to stay awake.
"Just stay relaxed and don't fight me," he said, then placed his fingers over Quatre's temples and closed his eyes to concentrate better.
His pool of energy had dwindled to less than a fourth of its natural size, but he squeezed yet more from it in order to enter Quatre's mind. In his ~sight~ Quatre was a green-blue ball of life-force, swirling and changing. Other colors, the boy's aura, shifted colors, gray to bright red to black to blue to poison green. He was not healthy. But then Wufei encountered something strange. Instead of blocks, there were natural shields. The construction was different from his own mental shields, and from that he could tell they had always been there, that Quatre was probably unaware of them. They weren't as thick as proper shields, so that meant they probably "leaked" a great deal.
*( Newtype. )* * I'd always wanted to know what made them so different. No blocks, but no ability either. Just some pretty weak shields. No wonder it went for him. He's the easiest prey an energy vampire could hope for. *
There was no time. He memorized the details to ponder later, and went on. Quatre opened himself as he approached. That was only a mild surprise; Quatre new instinctively what it'd take ~him~ years to learn. He dove in, not having the energy to waste on being overly gentle. But he was experienced and careful, so he hoped that it wasn't' too uncomfortable for the blonde boy. The alien but paradoxically familiar sensation of having your consciousness being engulfed by another surrounded him, and he began to search for traces of the darkness in Quatre.
Thoughts and emotions and memories flitted by, but Wufei politely didn't watch them. He wasn't in here to pry. He rifled through Quatre's subconscious quickly and efficiently, missing no nuance in the coloration of the energy. He was beginning to hope that maybe they'd succeeded in getting rid of the thing. But then he saw where it was hiding.
A coil of a black so profound that it wasn't a color, that it was the complete void of color laced its insidious self around the very core of Quatre, the bright pulsing center of Quatre's life force. It would be greatly shielded from all outside influences by the rest of Quatre's being, and at any direct attempt to remove it, it could simply tighten around the core and extinguish the flame of life. Wufei felt sick.
* Oh God. There's nothing I can do. I was too late, too weak, and now Quatre could die for my negligence! *
And as if he to prove that his helplessness was complete, the tendril of evil expanded suddenly, enveloping the bright nucleus. completely.
"NOOOOOO!" he screamed mentally and physically as the horrible thing lashed out at him, driving him back into his own body with the force of an explosion. He was thrown off balance and fell backwards, landing hard a few feet away. Quatre was unconscious again, and very, very pale. Trowa was watching him with ill-concealed worry and fear.
"It's still got him. I've failed you. I'm sorry," he grit out through the incredible return migraine that throbbing in his skull. Then there was white.
Duo knew he was immensely drained. That is, intellectually he knew this, but his body seemed to have other ideas. He fairly jogged into his bathroom, careful not to bang bits of Heero on the doorframe. He was grateful to get away from the scene of such weirdness. The ~really~ strange part was that he was starting to see it in a different light, starting to think he might understand some of it.
* A little. Maybe. *
He laid the insensible Heero in the bathtub, propping him up against the back of the basin so his he wouldn't drown in his own blood or swallow much of it. Duo then stripped off the stained green tank-top, and, figuring that a few more stains wouldn't matter, used it to wipe as much of the coagulating and sticky, rusty substance from Heero's arms and face. Then he wet a wash cloth with cold water and pressed it under Heero's nose. It was almost comforting - in a twisted way - reminding him of the times after missions when he and Heero had helped each other with first aid. While the memories were of equally hard and complicated and confusing times, they were familiar.
* I wonder how badly he was hurt in his fall from Wing. * Duo frowned. * I hope he doesn't have a concussion. *
Eventually the bleeding stopped, but Heero still hadn't come around. Duo rinsed out the washcloth and began cleaning him up. He cleaned his chiseled chest, neck, wiry forearms, and calloused hands. Finally, Duo was done and sat back uncertainly. There was something strange about watching Heero when he wasn't awake. When his face was relaxed, he looked younger, less forbidding. Attractive - It was unnerving. He was supposed to be completely invulnerable, totally in control. But sleep happened to Heero Yuy just like it happened to everyone else.
* So will death. *
He didn't know where the thought came from, but it made him even more nervous, and nauseous to boot. He couldn't conceive of Heero being dead. He didn't ~want~ him to be dead. Ever.
Duo looked away from Heero's face. His eyes burned, and his throat ached. He yawned widely to relieve the problem.
* Guess whatever the hell Wu did back there took a lot out of me. I need sleep. *
He glanced down at Heero again.
* But it might be a while before ~he~ snaps out of it. It can't be too comfortable in there. Where can I put him... *
He sighed and once again lifted Heero. His arms protested, but he managed it. He walked sideways out of the bathroom and into the main room, again succeeding in not bumping Heero against anything. He was almost to his disheveled bed when Heero woke up and they fell over.
Heero came alert with a jerk, and every part of his body objected to the movement. There was something off from the start; the balance was wrong. He instinctively tried to pull himself upright, but because the thing he grabbed onto was also falling, this did very little good. He tensed in preparation for impact.
He landed hard on his back; bruises formed from his earlier mishap screamed. A split second later, something heavy and bony landed on top of him. He clenched his teeth until the pain subsided, then opened his eyes. He found himself mere inches away from Duo's face. Large indigo eyes stared down at him in surprise. Warm, panting breath washed over his face, and Duo tensed oddly.
* Ne? * was his first thought.
Time seemed to slow, almost stop, measured by each intake of breath, every thundering heartbeat. For a dark, smouldering moment, Heero was confused. The weight on top of him, while uncomfortable due to his injuries, was not unwelcome. And the heat radiating from Duo inflamed him, making his face darken. It was not like the terrible, cruel heat of the desert. This was a flame from a kiln just below his abdomen. What was this? What was going on? And then realization hit him like a punch in the gut.
* Kuso. * was his next thought.
"Heero? You okay?" Duo asked.
* Get off me! *
He tried to roll over, to push Duo away from him, but to his dismay, he couldn't lift his arms. His muscles barely responded to his commands, just clenching weakly as he struggled to move. Then he tried to speak, but all that came out was a wordless groan. He closed his eyes in humiliation and frustration. ~What was going on?~
"Oh no, don't do that. C'mon, Heero, stay with me, buddy," he heard Duo say, and then felt light but stinging slaps administered to his face. He opened his eyes again to glare up at him. Duo only smiled in relief. "Good. Don't pass out just yet, okay? Need to check and see if you have a concussion first."
Duo pulled himself up and off of Heero, who shivered as soon as the air-conditioned air met previously warmed flesh. He quelled a pang of loss, harshly strangling it before it finished forming. Then Duo knelt, slipping his arms behind Heero's shoulders and thighs and lifting the Japanese boy off the floor. Heero tensed his pathetically weak muscles and glared for all he was worth. Surely this must be worse than any torture OZ could dream up for its prisoners. He hated to be so helpless.
Duo set him down on the bed, propping him in a half-sitting position with pillows. Then he knelt on the bed beside him. As there was not much he could do to stop the other, he endured a sometimes painful examination of his head. Finally, Duo sat back on his heels, staring at him and shaking his head. He gave a low whistle.
"Man, I want to know if that Dr. J guy replaced your skull with gundanium. No concussion, just some bruising," Duo said, scratching the back of his head. His hands were shaking. "I'm just going to go tell Wufei. And before you ask, I have no idea what went on out there, or why you passed out in the first place, or if Quatre's okay. You stay here and..."
He trailed off, his eyes unfocusing. He shook his head as if to clear it, but this only seemed to make him dizzy.
"Stay here and - g-get some... rest... " he said, then slowly toppled over. He was unconscious before his head hit the mattress.
Heero waited for the matress to stop jouncing. He took a small measure of guilty comfort that he was not the only one so incredibly drained. He stared blankly for a while, his confused emotions and thoughts buzzing in his head until darkness overtook him for the third time that day.
END PART SEVEN
Eros: Wow. Lots of black-outs and fainting in this part.
Thalia: Overused plot device, or a government conspiracy?
Psyche: It's all a conspiracy, man, it's the men in the black helicopters, man! They're trying to steal our thoughts, man, and make sure we don't ~know~ that they know that we know that they know that we ~know~ about them, man!
Thalia and Eros: O_o
Thalia: Was she like this when you two started dating?
Eros:...............
Psyche: REEEEEVIIIIIIIEEEEEW, man!
