Heero Yuy slammed the door in Chang Wufei's face. He was agitated, and
deeply so. Last
night Duo Maxwell had said something about Quatre that had made his skin crawl. Murderer. No,
that couldn't be it, Duo hadn't got his facts straight. Yeah, that was it. Quatre Winner wasn't a
killer.
There was a light bang as Wufei caught the door in the chest. The Chinese boy gave an
enraged cry, then shoved the door open. He strode with great purpose, or so it seemed to him, up
to Heero and snarled.
"Yuy, if you shut me out ONE more, time, it's katana time!!"
Heero stared into Wufei's seething eyes, looking bored. Then he said, in his classic monotone,
"Quatre needs our help. Come on."
Wufei almost snapped at him, or maybe it was a threat. Either way, he stopped himself with
the realization that Quatre, however fussy, was in dire need, and they had been chosen to help.
Chosen by Duo that is, which wasn't always a very good thing.
Heero gave him a nod, then prowled to the front door and opened it. He stepped out, slamming
it shut like he always did. The mechanical ex gundam pilot had never had the greatest manners.
Wufei, having learned his lesson well after the last hundred or so times, just lingered near the
door until it shut. Nearly in a huff, he opened the door next and went after Heero, but after he
closed it and locked it securely.
"Yuy, are all the windows and doors locked in the house?" Asked the black haired teenager as
he caught up with his friend.
There was no answer. As they both piled into the dark blue truck, Heero in the driver's seat,
Wufei had an urge to punch the Japanese boy. Why he never answered simple questions that
required no more than two words he would never know.
Must be the damn chemicals, they always did mess with his head, Wufei thought irritably.
As Quatre sipped his tea, Duo watched over him uneasily. The blond looked better, but Duo
wasn't convinced. He figited a little and bit down on his lower lip.
"Quatre?"
Quatre turned hazy, worn blue eyes on Duo and waited.
"Um. Are you okay?" Stupid, stupid! Of course he isn't okay, he killed someone!
"Yes, thank you, Duo"
Despite the words, Duo knew that Quatre was lying. No one could be okay after killing
someone, not even if they had to. Or maybe he was wrong. Maybe Quatre felt nothing, maybe
he-Duo, shut it with the babble! Yeesh, you'd think I did nothing but talk all day or something.
There was a soft noise as Quatre set his unfinished tea on the table. Duo blinked, then stared at
him, biting back numerous shocked comments, such as, 'Quatre, you always finish your tea!'
"You finished, Q-man?"
The other gave a slight nod, staring at the quickly cooling tea. Duo felt his heart breaking,
shattering, ripping. The sorrow in the Arabian's eyes was too much for Duo to bear. He couldn't
take this anymore, there was no way. Quatre was going to be helped! Duo almost got up to call
the two Asians, but he didn't, as they were probably really upset right now anyway. He fingered
the phone, then yelped as a tea cup, and its liquid contents, smashed onto the floor near his feet.
Tea splattered over him, warm liquid, but he didn't care. He looked over at Quatre just in time to
see the most venomous look he had ever seen. It was such that it rivalled the hissing roar of
molten metal, hot, deadly, blazing. A shiver ran through Duo's body, and he didn't dare move,
not with his normally sweet friend looking like that.
"Uuhhh.Q? Could you, ah..tone that look down?? You're scarin' me, man"
Quatre bowed his head, tears squeezing through now closed eyes. Although he tried to stop it,
a wrenching sob burst past his lips, tearing through his throat. He couldn't stand anymore, and his
legs, they wobbled and shook. Quatre put his hands on the table to steady himself, but it did no
good. He slipped backward and landed with a cry, but not because he hurt himself. Sobbing now,
screaming, howling, and whimpering, Quatre curled himself into a ball and just lay there
quivering, a beaten and abused child. Beaten and abused, yes. By himself. He was the one who
murdered that man. Not being able to remember why hurt almost as much as knowing that he did
it, and it was killing him. The reality, the truth of the situation was slowly rubbing him raw,
acting like some horrid flesh eating disease. Chunks were torn in strips from his soul, never to
return again. He was never going to survive this, and right now he didn't want to. He wanted to
die. Yes, he was ready to go now, and he wanted no delay.
Duo was at Quatre's side immedietly, forgetting about the phone. He wouldn't have called,
anyway, as Wufei probably would have yelled at him for being impatient or something. Kneeling,
he reached out and stroked Quatre's hair. The other lashed out like a cornered cat, short nails
dragging across the top of the American's right forearm. Duo gave a yell and fell back, clutching
his wounded arm to his chest. Tears began a gentle flow down his cheeks as he looked at his
ruined friend.
"Quatre, please. I just want to help, okay? Please let me."
Quatre gave a snarl, then leaped to his feet and bolted for the door. Eyes growing wide, Duo
scrambled up and took off after him.
"Quatre, NO! Come back, you have to, you're going to get help!"
As Quatre barged through the front door with renewed strength, adrenaline rushed through
him, a raging river of strength. A blue pickup truck pulled out in front of the house, but he paid it
no attention, not even when he recognised the grim faces of Heero and Wufei. Duo tripped out
the door and went sprawling onto his face, also spotting the two Asians.
"WUFEI, HEERO!!! Get Quatre, he's going to get himself killed!"
Heero was first out of the truck, as Wufei took the time to quickly turn it off. Then they were
both off, charging after Quatre, their feet flying. Duo remained on the ground, watching after
them with horrified eyes. What if they didn't catch him? What would become of the tortured
Arabian?
night Duo Maxwell had said something about Quatre that had made his skin crawl. Murderer. No,
that couldn't be it, Duo hadn't got his facts straight. Yeah, that was it. Quatre Winner wasn't a
killer.
There was a light bang as Wufei caught the door in the chest. The Chinese boy gave an
enraged cry, then shoved the door open. He strode with great purpose, or so it seemed to him, up
to Heero and snarled.
"Yuy, if you shut me out ONE more, time, it's katana time!!"
Heero stared into Wufei's seething eyes, looking bored. Then he said, in his classic monotone,
"Quatre needs our help. Come on."
Wufei almost snapped at him, or maybe it was a threat. Either way, he stopped himself with
the realization that Quatre, however fussy, was in dire need, and they had been chosen to help.
Chosen by Duo that is, which wasn't always a very good thing.
Heero gave him a nod, then prowled to the front door and opened it. He stepped out, slamming
it shut like he always did. The mechanical ex gundam pilot had never had the greatest manners.
Wufei, having learned his lesson well after the last hundred or so times, just lingered near the
door until it shut. Nearly in a huff, he opened the door next and went after Heero, but after he
closed it and locked it securely.
"Yuy, are all the windows and doors locked in the house?" Asked the black haired teenager as
he caught up with his friend.
There was no answer. As they both piled into the dark blue truck, Heero in the driver's seat,
Wufei had an urge to punch the Japanese boy. Why he never answered simple questions that
required no more than two words he would never know.
Must be the damn chemicals, they always did mess with his head, Wufei thought irritably.
As Quatre sipped his tea, Duo watched over him uneasily. The blond looked better, but Duo
wasn't convinced. He figited a little and bit down on his lower lip.
"Quatre?"
Quatre turned hazy, worn blue eyes on Duo and waited.
"Um. Are you okay?" Stupid, stupid! Of course he isn't okay, he killed someone!
"Yes, thank you, Duo"
Despite the words, Duo knew that Quatre was lying. No one could be okay after killing
someone, not even if they had to. Or maybe he was wrong. Maybe Quatre felt nothing, maybe
he-Duo, shut it with the babble! Yeesh, you'd think I did nothing but talk all day or something.
There was a soft noise as Quatre set his unfinished tea on the table. Duo blinked, then stared at
him, biting back numerous shocked comments, such as, 'Quatre, you always finish your tea!'
"You finished, Q-man?"
The other gave a slight nod, staring at the quickly cooling tea. Duo felt his heart breaking,
shattering, ripping. The sorrow in the Arabian's eyes was too much for Duo to bear. He couldn't
take this anymore, there was no way. Quatre was going to be helped! Duo almost got up to call
the two Asians, but he didn't, as they were probably really upset right now anyway. He fingered
the phone, then yelped as a tea cup, and its liquid contents, smashed onto the floor near his feet.
Tea splattered over him, warm liquid, but he didn't care. He looked over at Quatre just in time to
see the most venomous look he had ever seen. It was such that it rivalled the hissing roar of
molten metal, hot, deadly, blazing. A shiver ran through Duo's body, and he didn't dare move,
not with his normally sweet friend looking like that.
"Uuhhh.Q? Could you, ah..tone that look down?? You're scarin' me, man"
Quatre bowed his head, tears squeezing through now closed eyes. Although he tried to stop it,
a wrenching sob burst past his lips, tearing through his throat. He couldn't stand anymore, and his
legs, they wobbled and shook. Quatre put his hands on the table to steady himself, but it did no
good. He slipped backward and landed with a cry, but not because he hurt himself. Sobbing now,
screaming, howling, and whimpering, Quatre curled himself into a ball and just lay there
quivering, a beaten and abused child. Beaten and abused, yes. By himself. He was the one who
murdered that man. Not being able to remember why hurt almost as much as knowing that he did
it, and it was killing him. The reality, the truth of the situation was slowly rubbing him raw,
acting like some horrid flesh eating disease. Chunks were torn in strips from his soul, never to
return again. He was never going to survive this, and right now he didn't want to. He wanted to
die. Yes, he was ready to go now, and he wanted no delay.
Duo was at Quatre's side immedietly, forgetting about the phone. He wouldn't have called,
anyway, as Wufei probably would have yelled at him for being impatient or something. Kneeling,
he reached out and stroked Quatre's hair. The other lashed out like a cornered cat, short nails
dragging across the top of the American's right forearm. Duo gave a yell and fell back, clutching
his wounded arm to his chest. Tears began a gentle flow down his cheeks as he looked at his
ruined friend.
"Quatre, please. I just want to help, okay? Please let me."
Quatre gave a snarl, then leaped to his feet and bolted for the door. Eyes growing wide, Duo
scrambled up and took off after him.
"Quatre, NO! Come back, you have to, you're going to get help!"
As Quatre barged through the front door with renewed strength, adrenaline rushed through
him, a raging river of strength. A blue pickup truck pulled out in front of the house, but he paid it
no attention, not even when he recognised the grim faces of Heero and Wufei. Duo tripped out
the door and went sprawling onto his face, also spotting the two Asians.
"WUFEI, HEERO!!! Get Quatre, he's going to get himself killed!"
Heero was first out of the truck, as Wufei took the time to quickly turn it off. Then they were
both off, charging after Quatre, their feet flying. Duo remained on the ground, watching after
them with horrified eyes. What if they didn't catch him? What would become of the tortured
Arabian?