Oh Plot Bunny! Files #4: Ashes, Ashes
By: rainjewel
Author's Note: Section Three has arrived! *Motions for blaring trumpets, hears screeching bazookas* Ernever mind. Oh yeah, my new warning is a little late. Earlier I warned of shounen ai 1+2, but now I'm going to warn you about 3+4not like these should require warnings. It's two people in love. Freak out.
~*~
Stepping out of the limousine, Trowa heard the sound of a motorcycle engine. He paused for a moment, Quatre just a bundle in his arms, then saw a streak of crimson flying out the driveway, a long russet braid tossing in the wind. A second later a blue motorbike took off, following the first one.
That's either a good thing or a bad thing, Trowa thought. Given the speed the bikes were goingprobably a bad thing. With an unexpressed sigh, Trowa turned and walked into the house. There was nothing he could do about it now.
The butler met him at the door. His face contorted into a mask of concern, but he asked no questions. Trowa recognized him as the man he'd seen when he'd first met Quatre all those months ago. He nodded to him out of politeness and ducked into the Arabian's office.
In the corner of the office was a plush leather couch. Gently Trowa lowered Quatre onto it, propping his head up on a pillow that looked like it'd been used for this very purpose numerous times. As Trowa finally slipped his arms out from underneath the boy's body, Quatre's eyes fluttered.
"Trowa" he said in a kind of wondrous manner.
"Good afternoon," Trowa replied, looking down at the smaller boy. Quatre smiled and closed his eyes for an instant, but then his eyes opened wide and he sprang off of the couch.
"Trowa!" he cried. Quatre all but dove for the green-eyed pilot and wrapped his arms around him. "I'm so glad you're here!"
"Hey Kat," Trowa whispered. He patted the blonde's back shyly.
"You're worried," the Arabian whispered, pulling away. Trowa let his arm drop.
"I got a call from Heero a few hours ago," he said. "I assumed he was going to tell me what was going on, but" Trowa trailed off and fluttered his fingers towards the window, indicating the dusty air outside where Duo and Heero had been.
"Heero—that's right, he's here," Quatre said, walking to the window he pressed his head against the pane.
"Not any more," Trowa said. "He left with Duo."
Quatre's eyes clouded over at the comment. Trowa took a step and stood behind the blonde, placing a comforting hand on the small of Quatre's back. The shorter boy leaned back against him, his hair brushing against Trowa's chin.
The green-eyed boy fought for composure. Although he'd confessed his feelings for the blonde, and Quatre to him, he still found physical contact hard to swallow.
"What went wrong?" he whispered.
"Duo and I went on a mission," Quatre said. His voice suddenly took on a cold, hollow sound.
He sounds like he's using the Zero system, Trowa thought uneasily. He waited for the blonde to continue.
"Everything went as planned. The explosives were laid in an old MS factory. Duo and I were out in seven minutes. I pressed the trigger and my half exploded, but when Duowhen Duo's section went offit somehow caused another building to collapse. An orphanage was destroyed; completely and utterly destroyed.
Trowa hazarded a look at Quatre. The Arabian's face was as blank as a piece of paper. He himself felt sick. He'd heard of the orphanage mishap, but hadn't known of Quatre's involvement.
Trowa had never been one to speak, and he certainly didn't know what to say now. So he let his emotions take over, following the advice of an old friend. Trowa wrapped one lanky arm around Quatre's waist, pulling him even closer.
"Are you alright?" he whispered after a moment, his lips gently brushing against the blonde's ear. Quatre sighed and brought his hand up to cup the side of Trowa's face. The brown-haired boy held back a shy shudder and leaned into the touch.
"The worst has passed," Quatre whispered. He turned around in Trowa's grasp and looked up at him with wide eyes. "I'll be okay," he said. Gently he laid his head down on the taller boy's chest. "You're here, I'll be okay."
"If you say so," Trowa whispered. He felt uncertain. For him to influence someone's emotional well being was a frightening thought.
"Don't worry Trowa, at least not about me," Quatre said. He rubbed his cheek against the taller boy's chest.
Trowa grasped the Arabian by the upper arms and gently held him at arm's length. He searched Quatre's ocean blue eyes for a moment, then relaxed. "Well then," he said softly, "All that leaves is Duo."
Quatre nodded. "Let's pray Heero knows what he's doing."
Because Duo certainly doesn't, he thought. He raised his green eyes and looked through the window.
"Heero" Trowa said absently. He smiled without humor. "Doesn't he always know what he's doing?"
~*~
Too slow, too slow! When did I get so weak?
Heero gritted his teeth as he sped along the road on his motorcycle. Duo was in front of him only by a few meters or so. He could jump that distance easily enough, but he knew that if he triedlet's just say he'd probably meet the real Shinigami. An unstable Duo Maxwell with a gun wasn't something to be toyed with. If he jumped him, he could probably get the gun and the boy off of the bike. But they'd probably both end up dead.
How in the world had he let Duo get a hold of his gun? Wasn't his reaction time supposed to be faster than Duo's? He'd let himself get soft during the months after the war. Way too soft.
Heero struggled with himself. He'd worked hard to drop the "Perfect Soldier" that lay within him, that had been so very much a part of him during the war. And now that he'd finally manage to lay down his defenses—for him, anyway—all he got in return was Duo stripping him of his gun—a gun that he wasn't even supposed to have—and running off to do God knows what.
Perhapsperhaps he should let that soldier
No! Heero shook his head. He'd never let himself become that automated killing machine again. Never.
He didn't need it anyway, did he? Heero narrowed his icy blue eyes, letting them focus solely on Duo's back and flowing braid. He saw the hitching breaths and tensed muscles of the American. Occasionally he'd hear a mad cackle from the pilot, but mostly all he heard was the harsh sound of the wind against his ears.
He was glad for the noise. Heero was used to seeing Duo's bright smile and constant giddy manner. Even when he was angry and in full Shinigami-mode he was never, ever this manic. Duo was resilient and hard to break. He took everything in and reacted emotionally, but never stupidly. Okay, sometimes he didn't plan things out as well as Heero would have liked. But he never went into battle without knowing exactly what he was getting into and he knew what he was going to do. Duo definitely had a plan for this excursion. And it wasn't a pretty one.
He heard another insane giggle over the roar of the rushing air. For the first time ever, Heero wondered if Duo would be able to bounce back from this.
It was the last thought he permitted himself to have. Duo had just turned onto the ramp that led into the city. He was going into a civilian area armed and half-crazed.
Heero wasn't surprised.
~*~
The world was a large blur. And it wasn't due to the tears or the speed he was travelling at. Everything was coated in a red haze, and the forms he saw were shapeless.
But I like black. I don't want to see red. I want it painted black.
Duo smiled and began humming to himself. He shook his head to clear his senses. How could he aim if everything was a blurred mess?
He knew he could do it. The other pilots might think him moronic and a fool, but he knew what he was doing.
I am Shinigami.
Duo laughed out loud. And what a piece of shit Shinigami had turned out to be.
But enough on that. It was time to shake Heero off his tail. If he took his time to stop, then he'd undoubtedly be caught. Heero would be on him like white on rice.
Ah, but there's brown rice too. This thought struck him as extremely funny and he giggled like a maniac.
Concentrate! Socivilian area. He could just kill the engine in the Preventor parking lot and go into a slide. But he'd have to move fast. Heero would undoubtedly be expecting it. Which meant that he had to deter the Japanese pilot somehow.
Duo wrinkled his brow, then grinned from ear to ear. Of course, that was so simple.
Darting in and out of traffic, carefully avoiding civilians—he'd killed enough for one day, he thought—Duo finally brought the bike around to the block the Preventor building was on. Heero had apparently decided that following Duo and not trying to jump him was the safest way of pursuit. He could almost feel the other bike's tires on his own.
"Omae o korosu, ne?" he whispered to himself. We'll see about that.
He quickly killed the engine as he turned sharply into the parking lot. Swinging his weight to the left he turned the bike on his side. Quickly Duo hitched his leg up and away from pavement and screeching metal. Heero killed his own engine around, swinging the bike around to curve around Duo's. The braided boy gritted his teeth together and pushed himself off of the bike. Ignoring the pain he felt as his skin met pavement, he crouched and fired off one shot into the front tire of Heero's motorcycle.
The Japanese boy jumped before the bullet even hit the rubber. Duo damned himself and sprang up from his position. Heero was faster than he was. Taking off at a breakneck run he darted amongst the parked cars while Heero simply ran over them, his sure feet pounding into the steel.
With an adrenaline-induced surge of energy he shot out from the cars and sprinted up the steps. He slammed through the door, bruising his shoulder and cracking the glass.
"Mr. Maxwell!" came a cry. Duo saw one of the secretaries stand up in alarm at his entrance.
"G'morning!" he called cheerfully, dashing for the stairs, "Isn't it a great day for killing?"
"Wha—?!"
"Get some men after him, now!" Heero called from behind him. The secretary made a small "eeping" sound and looked on dumbly.
Duo smiled as he heard Heero curse. As his foot hit the first step he heard the sound of a fist connecting with glass. Suddenly the alarms in the building went off.
Smooth move, Heero. But you forget that I thrive on chaos.
Duo began laughing again. People came flooding down the stairs. He simply elbowed his way up. Living on the streets had taught him how to get through a crowd quickly and easily.
Now why in the hell did Une have to have an office on one of the top floors?
~*~
Wufei scowled as the alarms went off. Didn't these damn people know how to get anything right around here? Now what was coming, the apocalypse?
Given events of the past couple of days, he almost wished it were.
"Come on, woman, we have a fire drill," he called to his partner.
"Wufei, I have a name," said Sally Po, sending him an amused glare.
"Congratulations. Now let's get out of here and see what blunder we've made today," he said. He stood up, grabbed his jacket and tossed Sally hers.
"Ever the optimist, ne Wufei?" Sally said. She chuckled, but behind it was a mask of worry. Why were the alarms ringing? Was Une alright?
Wufei lifted an arrogant eyebrow and opened the door. "Coming?"
"Yeah. Une can take—"
A loud ringing sound broke through the air, making Wufei stop. Swiftly he retrieved his communicator and clicked the ON button.
"Wufei," he answered.
"Get to Une's room now!" yelled Heero's voice. "Duo's planning on—"
"That baka!" Wufei interrupted, understanding flowing through his body. He slammed the phone shut. "Woman, get out of this building now!"
"What was that about?" Sally asked, her worry even more evident. Wufei quickly withdrew his gun and clicked the safety off.
"Sally, don't make me repeat myself," he said. He pushed her through the door.
The woman smiled. He was a Gundam pilot. "'Bout time you learned my name, Wuffers." She ducked down the hallway and disappeared into a hallway.
"Woman!"
But Wufei would unleash his justice later. He dashed off in the direction of the General's office.
~*~
Last step. Last step in Hell. Taking the dive now.
Duo smirked. Shall I plug my nose?
He turned sharply and ran down the corridor. He'd gained more ground then he thought he'd had originally. But not enough to be completely safe. He was never completely safe.
No, no one is. Not even innocent children.
Duo nodded. He skidded to a stop before the door.
Knock, knock.
He reached for the handle but the door opened before he could touch it. Duo couldn't believe his luck.
"Morning!" he cried cheerily. General Une's eyes widened as she saw Duo Maxwell standing in front of her. He raised his gun and stuck the barrel under her chin.
"Let's step inside, shall we?"
"Maxwell!" called a familiar voice.
Wuffie? Duo scowled and threw his weight forward, sending him and Une back into the room. He sprang up on his feet and slammed the door shut, swiftly locking it. He didn't know how long it'd hold.
He turned back to Une, who was slowly getting to her feet. He pounced, grabbing her slender wrists with one of his hands and straddling her body between his legs.
"Duo Maxwell, get off me this instant!" she ordered.
"I'll consider itnope, not happenin' Lady," he drawled slowly, giddily. He watched the woman's brown eyes hardened at his use of the title "Lady." Yeah, that was really ladylike behavior you showed back there. But then, you always had were a deceitful bitch back in the good ol' days of OZ. His anger rose drastically. "So, I heard you planted bombs in the orphanage."
Une's eyes widened surprise at his statement. "What!"
Duo felt his anger boil over. The hysteria he'd been feeling suddenly disappeared. Violet-eyes glassed over with malice.
"Don't fuck with me," he growled. "You used me as a tool, eh?"
"Duo, I don't have the slightest clue what you're talking about! What do you mean, bombs in the orphanage?" Une retorted.
Shots suddenly were fired, cracking the wooden door. Heero was here. Wufei's indecipherable yells could be heard through the walls.
Duo snarled at the sound and dragged Une over to corner. He hauled her to her feet and pressed her up against a wall.
"You fucked with Shinigami," he whispered. He traced her neck with the gun's barrel. "You dared to fuck with Shinigami!" he screamed in her face.
Another shot. Duo turned around and fired a shot of his own at the door.
"Stop it!" he screamed. Why the hell does Heero always have to get in my way?
"Duo, I didn't know," Une said softly, drawing his attention back to her. "The orders to blow the MS factory came from higher officers."
"Stop lying!" he spat. "Fuck you. You purposefully didn't tell me about the operation going on at the orphanage because you knew I wouldn't blow it!" His red haze of anger was starting to be pierced by sanity. He didn't like it one bit. It hurt. Quickly he wrapped a hand around Une's throat, cutting off her air supply. Surprisingly she didn't even struggle.
Heero was breaking the door down. Duo was surprised the other boy hadn't resorted to explosives yet.
Cocky bastard.
"Don't fuck with me Heero!" he warned. He fired off another shot at the door, making a new keyhole.
"Kuso!" came Heero's muffled voice. Wufei called the Japanese boy's name.
"Youyou shot him!" Une gasped. Finally she raised her hands to his grasp, weakly trying to pry his fingers off. "Duo stop this! Everyone was manipulated!"
"You think II actually got the bastard?" Duo whispered. His resolve was beginning to flag. He'd shot Heero? Oh God
"Duo," Une whispered, her hands dropping and her eyes glazed, "You were tricked into killing innocent lives. Everyone here can sympathize with you. Don't let your rage trick you into killing more."
The General's eyes slid shut and Duo felt the woman go limp in his grip. Behind the violet-eyed pilot the door disintegrated in a cloud of smoke. He didn't even register it.
I killed eighty-six children. Do I have to kill Une and Heero as well?
"Goddamn it!" Duo screamed, dropping his hand and letting Une slide to the ground. He dropped the weapon to his side. Letting out a wounded scream, he curled his hand in a fist and punched the wall where Une's face had been. "Goddamn you all!"
There was a hand on his shoulder. He ducked down under the touch and struck out with a fist. Heero jumped out of the way to miss the American's blow.
"Don't touch me!" Duo cried, rising the gun directly in line with Heero's eyes. "Why couldn't you just leave me?" he asked, "I was supposed to die with her! But you followed me and dragged me away and now you've followed me here! Why can't you leave me alone, Heero! I was supposed to die with her—I was supposed to die with themwith Father Maxwell and Sister Helen"
"Duo, I told you I wasn't going to let you die," Heero said calmly, staring down the barrel of the other pilot's gun. There was a bullet wound in the Japanese boy's right shoulder.
Shit Shinigami, we've fucked up. An irrational fear rose up in his chest. He had almost killed Heero.
"Why?" Duo asked, in torment. "Whatever happened to omae o korosu?' Why don't you just put me out of my misery and finish out your threat!"
"That can be arranged, Maxwell," said a familiar voice. Duo swiveled his eyes and saw the figure of Wufei, the Chinese boy's gun trained on his eyes.
It was all the time Heero needed.
Duo screamed as the Japanese boy suddenly sprang forward, his strong fingers wrapping around the barrel of the gun, almost wrenching it out of his grip.
No Heero! I'll shoot you, God I'm going to shoot you!
Duo pulled back, terrified of harming the blue-eyed pilot. He fell back against the floor, taking Heero with him. The 01 pilot twisted the automatic harshly to the left. Duo cried out in pain as he heard his wrist dislocate with the movement, but he hung on with all his might. He wasn't strong enough to wrestle the gun away from Heero, he knew.
"Let go Duo," Heero growled at him.
"No, I'll shoot you, I'll shoot you!" Duo cried frantically. Blood dripped from the bullet wound on Heero's shoulder onto his chin and neck. Thoroughly afraid beyond comprehension, Duo pulled out all the stops.
Heero wrenched the gun farther to the left. Duo let the weapon rotate in his grip, keeping his hand on the trigger. Now the barrel was aiming at him. He stopped the struggle. Heero paused.
"Shinigami doesn't care if he kills innocents," he whispered. "It's time to show him to his own grave."
Heero's eyes flashed. "No!"
Duo squeezed the trigger.
~*~
Trowa smoothed out the new sheets with his graceful hands. From across the bed Quatre smiled at him as the blonde tucked the edge under the mattress. Quatre's motions were a little unsure and he made the bed rather messily. He'd never really made a bed before. Trowa supposed they could get the servants to do it, butfor some reason that just didn't feel right. Besides, Duo had left such a muddy and ashen, not to mention bloody mess that if a maid were to come in her the cops would be called before you could say "911."
Trowa picked up the comforter from the floor and flung it across the bed, the fabric settling perfectly.
Quatre shook his head. "How in the world do you do that?"
"Practice," Trowa replied. For all of Cathrine's housekeeping fanaticism, she'd probably chop him up into stew meat before she made his bed.
"Oh." Quatre fluffed a pillow, mushing it into a whole different shape. He began arranging the pillows. Trowa felt the corner of his lips twitch and he bent down to pick up the remains of Duo's shirt.
Garbage, definitely. Unless Duo's going to take to wearing bandannas as shirts.
For some reason this notion didn't strike Trowa as that unfeasible. He frowned to himself. Black humor suited him too well.
"Quatre," he asked, turning, "Where should we put the clothes and sheets? We can't throw them in the garbage as they are."
Quatre frowned in thought. "We'll just shove them in a sack and burn them when it's convenient, I suppose. Hey, where are you going?"
Trowa opened the bedroom door. "To get marshmallows."
Quatre laughed. The taller ex-Gundam pilot shut the door and eased himself down the stairs in all actuality, he just needed to grab a sack and perhaps a glass of water For some reason his throat felt thick and dry.
Passing through the kitchen, Trowa grabbed a garbage sack and helped himself to a glass of water. The cool liquid felt good against his throat.
Hmm, a sore throat. Perhaps I'm getting sick? Trowa shook his head. The only thing he was sick of was killing. He'd had his dance with death and had found he wasn't a good partner.
On the way back to Duo's room Trowa noticed the mail lying on a hallway table. He picked it up and took a side trip to Quatre's office, dropping the envelopes on the blonde's desk. It was then that he saw the small stack of papers. On top of the first sheet was a square yellow post-it note with Quatre's name on it. The writing was small and precise; Trowa recognized it immediately.
He picked up the first sheet of paper and read it. Then he picked up the next one and the one after that. He dropped the garbage bag.
Holy shit. Trowa felt nausea wash over him as he speed-read the documents. This whole thing was planned out.
"Trowa?"
He looked up to see Quatre's concerned face. The Arabian stood in the doorway. He couldn't speak. Quatre came forward.
"What are you doing?"
Trowa looked to the papers, to Quatre, and back down again. His throat was so dry it itched.
He held out the documents to the blonde. "I have something you need to read, little one."
Looking at Trowa with puzzled eyes, Quatre took the papers from him. The green-eyed boy motioned to the documents with a lift of his shoulder, and the Arabian boy bent his head to read.
Trowa stood and watched Quatre, seeing the emotions flit across the pale boy's face. After a few pages the blonde sank to the floor, reading hungrily. His eyes were wide. Trowa knelt beside him.
Finishing the last page, Quatre turned and looked to him. With shaking hands he put the papers down on the ground. He looked shell-shocked.
"II have a calla call that I need to make," he said, nodding slightly to himself as he did so.
"To the General?" Trowa asked, knowing the answer. Quatre hadn't told him that the mission had come from the Preventors, but he knew. Even though Wufei was technically the only one who was a true "Preventor," all of them had been called in at one time or another for "favors." Duo actually spent the majority of his time there, whenever he wasn't working at the scrap yard with Hilde.
Bet that's going to change in a hurry.
Quatre rose to his feet, his face blank in a way that troubled Trowa. He knew that the Arabian contained a great deal of strength, but he had expected a moreemotional response from the blonde. Quatre looked like he'd just had a couple hits of the Zero system.
Trowa came and stood behind Quatre as he flicked on the holophone. Just as the young heir was going to send a transmission to Une, a bright face appeared on the screen.
"S-Sally?" Quatre started. He'd never received a call from her. Usually it was Wufei.
"Hello Quatre, Trowa," said the braided woman. She had a smile on her face, but her eyes were pinched and tired. "I'm afraid I have more bad news."
Quatre looked at her, his expression dazed. "Wha?"
Trowa took over, trying to keep his concern in check. "What do you mean?"
"You need to come to the hospital immediately. There's been a shooting."
~*~