Disclaimers: Don't own either Gundam Wing or Shivers. Pairings: Same as they were the last time you looked.

Shivers Part 3 Kitana Bradford Warnings: Yaoi implications, ickiness, angst

Heero stood above me for a second, giving me a quick once-over: to make sure I wasn't dying or anything, then drew his gun and cautiously approached the stone hearth. I watched, wincing and expecting to see the entity rise again from the ashes and strike. This time Heero as its target.

All of us were tense, and Trowa had his gun drawn, ready to cover Heero. I had a feeling that guns wouldn't help any with these things. Heero reached the spot where I had first been attacked. then took a step beyond it.

I tensed. but nothing happened. The Ixupi was gone. Heero, always the thorough one, poked around in the small pile of ashes for a second, before turning back to us and shaking his head.

A silence descended, and we all looked at each other. I shifted in Quatre's arms, trying to stand. The movement sent agony crashing through all parts of my body. I hissed through my teeth and winced, hugging myself tightly and curling around the pain. In a flash, Quatre was at my side, a soothing hand on my back.

"Daijoubu, Duo. Just take deep, slow breaths." I nodded and concentrated on breathing.

"K'so.." I practically whimpered, cringing away from Quatre's hand. This sucked. I mean, five bullets in the gut couldn't cause me half the pain two attacks from these Ixupi created. 'Heero probably thinks I'm weak.' The thought popped unbidden into my mind. Damn. That's because I am weak. I wanted Heero to be proud of me. To feel he could depend on me, and then something like this happens.

The sound of Heero's voice dragged me back to the real world.

"Wufei and I uncovered some background on these "Ixupi" in the library. It is imperative you see this."

I clamped down on my misery and stood slowly. The room spun around me crazily. I stumbled, about to keel over again, when someone put a steadying hand on my shoulder.

"Umph! Can somebody stop the room please? I wanna get off." I mumbled dizzily, trying to lighten my own mood and dispel a little of the anxiety in the room.

I heard Quatre giggle, but I heard worry for me hidden in that giggle. Wufei snorted.

"I heard that Wufei!! Shuddup Wu-man. This HURTS!" I whined to cover up

a wince. At my shoulder I heard a soft, "Hn. Baka." Guess who that was? BINGO!

By then the room had stopped spinning. I didn't feel any better, but there was no way I was going act weak in front of the others. I plastered a huge idiotic grin on my face and dropped an arm around Heero's shoulders. He didn't shrug it off, but I guess that's because I was holding him so tight.

"But that's why you all love me, right?" I said, wiggling my eyebrows at them.

Silence.

"Right?"

More silence, during which, Wufei raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, this is where you say 'Yes, Duo, that is why we love and adore you and worship your sexy body.'"

"Baka." Heero said, glowering at me. I made a face and caught Heero in a gentle, yet secure headlock. I probably wouldn't have been able to do it if I hadn't already had an arm over his shoulders. Crowing with triumph, I used my weight to keep him from escaping, I raised my knuckles to the top of his head and messed up his already tousled hair by giving him the noogie of a lifetime.

Yeah. well, that didn't go over so well. We won't go into detail, but I'll just say Heero wasn't too happy about that.

***

"Thith ith it?"[1] I asked around my swollen jaw, careful not to accidentally bite the inside of my puffy, tender cheek. The cheek which was now sporting a signature Heero Yuy handprint.

"Yes, Maxwell." Wufei said distractedly.

"Not very big is it?" It consisted of a single small room with a large wooden table taking up most of the space in the center. The walls, lined with bookcases, that were lightly packed with leather-bound volumes, was all that consisted of the "library".

Wufei didn't answer, taking the path to the left of the table. So of course I made my way around the right of the table, idly trailing a finger over the row of books as I walked by, amused that I could see the path my finger had taken in the thick coating of dust that covered everything.

I spotted one of those rolley-latters and clambered up, plopping down on the top rung and looking down on the room. From across the library Quatre smiled up at me in the manner a parent would smile at a child's silly antics. I couldn't help it. I had always wanted to climb on one of these things.

The other four gathered around Wufei, who had pulled out a thin black book. From my vantage point I could see pages filled with curvy script and an occasional detailed picture here and there.

It seemed that the book was actually some type of scientist's field journal. Apparently the scientist had taken up residence with an old tribe in South America. The first entry in the journal was dated May 9th, A.C. 173.

The beginning of the log started smoothly enough. A scientist by the name of Professor Schwartz had traveled to a small tribal village in Peru to pursue his interest in the ancient and feared tribal folklore of the Ixupi.

I sat up. "Hey, that's what the ghost in the cave called the thing that attacked me!"

"Yes, Duo. Now hush!" I sat back at Quatre's gentle reprimand.

Crossing my arms over my chest I huffed under my breath, "You guys all treat me like a little kid! It's not like you are much better then I am," Heero looked at me sharply.

Ops, I guess he had heard. I met his eyes and glared at him, refusing to be cowed and look away. As we stared at each other, the world began to swirl, and I felt as though I were falling into his stormy cobalt orbs. Against my will, my anger melted away and I began to feel giddy. My fists gripped the edges of the latter until my knuckles turned white and I was thankful because it was all that kept me from tumbling to the ground as I was hit by wave after wave of vertigo while drowning in his cerulean gaze.

For the briefest of seconds, I thought I detected the faintest hint of emotion in the cold, locked depths of his eyes. I leaned shifted forward slightly, as if the proximity would confirm what I saw, and then..

".Heero? Heero!" Wufei's voice filtered through the intense haze over my mind. Heero's gaze snapped from mine and the instant was shattered. I slouched against the bookshelf, not even hearing what Wufei was saying as I pouted.

I had been so close! Then Wufei had ruined it all by calling Heero's name. If I had had just a second more I could've. could've. could have what? Discovered in a split second all Heero's deepest emotions that he kept hidden behind a mask of indifference? That sounded lame even to me. It was just like me to turn a simple glare from Heero into a steamy, passionate invitation.

I snorted softly and Heero looked back in my direction, but I avoided his gaze, focusing instead on Wufei's dark head which shined in the soft lights of the library. I could feel Heero's eyes on me and I squirmed self- consciously. I concentrated intensely on what Wufei was saying and slowly my mind began to focus again.

Wufei had picked up where he left off in the precise entries. For the first couple of days it was filled with possible leads, discoveries, background and history of the Ixupi legends and artifact catalogues. Typical stuff you'd expect to find in an archeologist's journal. Booor~ing!

Then, on May the 12th, things began to get interesting. His notes became excited and he mentioned discovering a grass basket of pots partially buried and concealed in a small gorge a mile south of the village. Inscribed on each in an ancient form of the tribal language was a different marking for each form of the elements. He had brought them back to his temporary dwelling in the village and pried them open in all haste.

Then his writing slowed again as he related that the lead had been a dud. The pots had been empty. There had been a slight warm wind issuing from the pots and a greenish vapor that he could not explain, but he suspected that it had only been various gasses escaping from the clay pots sealed for countless centuries.

The entries ended there for the day, then picked up again the next morning with obvious interest on Professor Schwartz's part. He mentioned a number of tribefolk bodies turning up mysteriously dead overnight; dry, almost mummified, and drained of all essence. When the tribespeople had discovered this, there had been great panic and the ancient whispered words of 'Ixupi', native for 'elemental demons'. The members had all quickly packed up a few belongings and began to journey toward the nearby city of Lima. Schwartz had been forced to journey with them so the notes stopped then and picked up later that afternoon in a messy handwriting that suggested the they had been scrawled in great haste.

The traveling tribe and the Professor had been about halfway to Lima when members began to scream and the whole line of people had been thrown into terror as unseen beings began to attack the party left and right.

Despite the losses, the panicked survivors picked up the pace, desperate to reach Lima before nightfall. They were perused by their invisible enemies until sundown, when they abruptly vanished. The remaining tribefolk and Professor finally reached the town just before the sun dipped below the horizon and took refuge in the small huts of the town. For a while, all had remained quiet, but as the last rays of dusk faded, the enduring tribal members, Professor Schwartz, and the citizens of Peru had been thrown into a veritable Hell as the things descended upon the town.

Wufei turned the page and I could see, even from my position that the writing slanted and grown almost illegible. The entry was dated May the 14th and the topic deteriorated into frantic, insane babble that made little to no sense. Wufei could only pick out the repeated words: Ixupi, monsters, life essence, May 14th, full moon, and talismans from among the rambling. There were vague, recurring yet unexplainable references to the full moon of May 14th, and the Night of the Elements which began on that night at twelve. It was all very confusing, but the last paragraph was worse then the entire journal combined.

The script was large and I could read it even from my perch on the top of the ladder. It said:

Oh god. What have I done? Everyone is already dead and I'm next. The eagle talisman! I have found it inside the sattlebags of a stray horse, Camil. I must perform the Ritual, but I fear it is too late. Oh, please don't let it be too late. IT'S COMING FOR ME. IT'S GOING TO KILL ME! I DON'T WANT TO DIE! I DON'T WANT TO DIE! I DON'T WANT TODIEIDON'TWANTTODIEIDON'TWANTTODIE.

The hysteric writing ended abruptly, and the page was liberally splattered with suspicious blackish red spots. I prayed it was only ink. At the very bottom of the page an appendix was added, in the scholarly handwriting of a different scientist.

Professor Windlenot, Unfortunately, when our the party returned for Senior Schwartz on May the 19th, the town was discovered empty, all occupants long gone or dead. Corpses identified as the villagers were scattered in about the town. The local police inspected the bodies and it was pronounced that a virus must have killed the people. It seemed as though they had lain in the sun for quite some time, as the bodies were fluidless and almost resembled mummies. Of course, I hadn't much time to investigate for myself because the police quickly quarantined the area. I did manage to find that, alas, the cadaver of our late Professor Schwartz was among them. Curiously, his bodily fluids remained intact, for all that he was situated in the village square in broad daylight. Though, it seemed in the time between his death and our arrival some wild scavengers had descended upon his body, because his carcass was ripped apart; deep gashes covered his abdomen and upper body and his cerebral cavity was torn open at the back of his head, the contents missing from the inside. When I saw Senior Schwartz's body I was surprised to find that he had made a discovery before his expiration. Strangely enough, his body was surrounded by 13 ancient-looking pots and there were mysterious markings drawn in the sand around his remains. Knowing your mutual fascination with such legends, I salvaged his journal, the pots, and attained or recorded anything else of interest or possible finds and shipped everything I gathered to you. Perhaps they will provide a suitable exhibit for your new museum..

Signed, Your friend and college, Professor Procotsky

In the pregnant silence that followed we all looked at each other. I gulped. "We are in deep shit, aren't we?" No one disagreed.