Title: Trading Faces
Rating: PG-13, just because I feel like it.
Warnings: Profanity, violence, eventual 1x2 pairing, etc.
Disclaimer: Nope, they aren't mine. But I like to pretend that they are. Guess I'll have to settle for owning this story (not a fair consolation if you ask me…)
A/N: Thanks to: Clairol, Faith, bunetwo, Elle-FaTe2x1, Violet, LB, shinigami angel, Shellie, angelhereal, and Naomi for their reviews last time. I'm glad you guys are enjoying things so far! Buckle up, kiddies, here's chapter 6.
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"Duo? There's a problem."
Duo wondered for a moment if the voice was a dream. He lay very still, hoping that perhaps it would go away and leave him to sleep. There was a sound suspiciously like a sigh of exasperation, and Duo cringed. It wasn't going away.
"Whaddya want? 'M tired," he mumbled, hiding his eyes in the crook of his arm.
"I can't find it."
"Wha?"
"I can't … Duo, would you wake up?" His elbow was suddenly pried away from his face, and he groaned in displeasure as the sheets were ripped away from him. He blinked up at the figure leaning over him, noticing that the room was still remarkably dim.
"Heya Heero," he said softly, his words still slightly slurred with sleep. "What gives? Is it even dawn yet? Whatcha doin' awake?"
"I never went to sleep."
"What? Why?" Duo asked, gaining more consciousness at Heero's blunt words.
"I went out last night," Heero explained, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking at Duo with hard eyes. "I thought I could find the disk."
"The disk?! Did you?" Duo bolted upright, suddenly excited. Heero's shoulders slumped a little.
"No," he said almost bitterly. "I wandered around that damn forest for hours. Maybe I could have remembered more clearly where we left it if someone hadn't knocked me out before!"
"How many times are you going to make me apologize for that?" Duo whined. "There's nothing I can do about it now!"
"You'll
have to attempt to look for it. I assume you remember the general area it was
in?"
"Mmm, I think so," Duo nodded. "You could have told me you were going, you
know. I would have helped."
"I didn't want to wake the others," Heero shrugged. "Besides, it was probably best if we didn't both go rushing into danger at the same time."
"Danger? What do you mean?"
"I think OZ is patrolling the forest," Heero explained. "I had the distinct feeling that I was being tailed …"
"Well, did ya get whoever it was?"
"No. I was never presented with the opportunity," Heero grumbled. "OZ may be suspicious that we are still in the area."
"Think we oughta move out?"
"I don't know," Heero said quietly. "In any case, you need to get up. Trowa is on a mission, and if I can distract the other two perhaps you can leave to look for the disk."
"In broad daylight, with ozzies crawling around waiting for me? Heero, are you that tired? Where's your head?"
"Are you telling me that you can't handle it?"
"No. I'm telling you that you're crazy," Duo retorted, turning over and burying his face in his pillow momentarily. "Fine, I'll get up in a minute. I'll help you with my hair once I do."
"Hn. That won't be necessary."
"Huh?"
"I tried it myself. It was a successful enough attempt."
"Um … English, please?"
"I braided my own hair, baka. Is that okay with you?!" Heero snapped.
"Oh. The brain thing?"
"Hn. Yes, Duo, the 'brain thing'," Heero said sarcastically. "How scientific of you."
"You're pissy when you're tired, aren't you? Here, you go to sleep and I'll get up. You can distract the masses for me later." He swung himself off the edge of the bed and motioned for Heero to lie down.
"But Duo …"
"You're exhausted, Heero, I can tell. Just get some sleep already, would you? The disk isn't running away, you know."
Heero meant to protest, but the look on Duo's face silenced him. Grumbling and pulling off his jacket, he collapsed reluctantly on the bed.
Duo had only been downstairs for a few minutes, but already the tension was almost too much to bear. Quatre was being terribly skittish around him; Duo couldn't really blame the guy, after his outburst the day before, but he didn't know what to do to fix the situation. He couldn't exactly apologize, and an explanation was out of the question.
Wufei was sitting at the kitchen table, glaring at him with what Duo couldn't help but call malice. He frowned slightly as he poured himself some coffee, wondering what he had done to aggravate the serious young man. He had been nothing but civil to the boy since he had been stuck in Heero's body, so there was no reason for him to be scowling so deeply. He realized too late that he had been staring, when Wufei snapped at him.
"What are you looking at, Yuy?!"
"Hn. Nothing," Duo replied with calm composure. "You look terrible." It was true; Wufei looked wrung out and weary, and Duo could tell by the slight slump in his posture that the pilot was indeed tired.
"I didn't sleep well," Wufei bit out, narrowing his eyes a little more before turning back to his breakfast. Duo wanted to press further, but he knew that it wouldn't be correct to do so. Quatre didn't help matters; he sat quietly with his tea, his face growing sheepish as Duo looked at him. As soon as they locked eyes the blond looked away, ducking his head as though he was embarrassed. Duo rolled his eyes.
One friend was scared to death of him, and another seemed to have developed a hatred for him overnight. He didn't know whether or not to wish Trowa was there; the quiet boy might have only made things worse.
Swallowing his coffee quickly, ignoring the scalding quality of the liquid, he set his mug in the sink and stalked out of the room. Wufei's eyes followed him closely; he could feel them burn into his back as he retreated.
"What the hell is wrong with everyone today?" Duo muttered angrily to himself as he sought out somewhere to be alone. "Could it get any worse …?"
"We have a mission."
Yes, it could get worse, Duo noted cynically as he stared at Heero.
"No. Please say you're shitting me."
"Duo!" Heero growled, and Duo groaned.
"How are we gonna go on a mission like this, Heero? Huh? Would you explain that one to me?"
"Actually, the mission parameters only require one of us."
"Which one?"
"Technically, you. Practically, me."
"Hey, if the mission's for me I'm the one who's gonna go. You got that?"
"Except that I'm you. So I'm going."
"Just 'cause we happen to be switched around doesn't mean that I am no longer capable of piloting Scythe. And I sure as hell don't want anyone else piloting him!"
"I will handle the mission, Duo," Heero said, his voice adamant. Duo huffed, glaring icily at his companion. It was impossible to win an argument with the Perfect Soldier if he was determined.
"Why'd you say we then?!" Duo demanded, piqued.
"Because we're going to pretend that you're backing me up," Heero said calmly. "It will give you an excuse to leave the safe house and look for the disk while I take care of the mission."
"That's pathetic, Heero."
"It will work. That's what counts."
"You know, it's only gonna take a little bit of time to find the disk. The mission will take longer, I'm sure. What am I supposed to do then, huh?"
"Bring the laptop with you and look into what you can find out about the disk's origins and operations."
"But Heero, that's boring!"
"I did my share, it's time you did yours," Heero countered, his glare solid. "Now, are we in agreement?"
"Tch. As if I really have a vote in the matter. Enter, despot Heero, bringing oppression to the poor, hardworking citizen Duo," Duo said sourly.
"Stop the melodrama, because I don't care. It will work this way."
"Whatever you say," Duo shrugged. "When are we going?"
"As soon as you can gather your supplies."
"Okay. But I have one stipulation, or I'm not leaving this house."
"And that would be?"
"You have to show me where Wing is."
"What?! For what reason?!"
"If you get to use Scythe, I get to use Wing. I'll need someplace to crash to do my work on the laptop, and I sure as hell can't come back here. I don't think you want me hacking OZ sites in a public place either. So … I get to hang out in Wing's cockpit, or I'm not accepting the mission."
Heero's fists clenched, and he gritted his teeth. Duo tapped his foot expectantly.
"Well?"
"Hn … if you insist."
* * *
Quatre and Wufei watched the two pilots leave, each feeling qualms for different reasons. Normally there was nothing abnormal about two of them getting called away for a mission at the same time, but suspicions had warped both of their senses. Quatre's arms were wrapped lightly around himself, as though he were cold. Wufei's stance was rigid, and they were both silent for a minute.
"Do you feel it too, Wufei?" Quatre asked after a moment, glancing at the boy next to him. He could feel an odd aura around the Chinese boy. "You think something's going on between them, too?" Wufei's eyes rose in surprise.
"I thought I was the only one who was suspicious," Wufei said slowly.
"I could sense something was off … and then I sort of walked in on them the other morning …" he trailed off, his cheeks turning pink as he recalled the awkward moment.
"What did they do?" Wufei demanded, the harshness of his words surprising Quatre.
"Oh, nothing. They, um, didn't notice I was there," the blond replied.
"I see," Wufei sighed. "I nearly walked in on them yesterday … but they were being loud enough that I managed to stop before they saw me." Quatre's eyes widened at Wufei's words, his face growing even hotter with discomfort.
"Oh …"
"What's wrong with you, Winner?"
"Nothing … just a bit flustered, that's all," Quatre said vaguely.
"Hm," Wufei nodded. "Does Trowa know?"
"I haven't said anything," Quatre shook his head.
"We should tell him. As soon as he gets back."
"Are you sure …? I mean, is it really our place …?"
"I certainly think so," Wufei huffed, turning away from his companion with a solid glare on his face. He promptly left the room, heading for the stairway. Perhaps he would be able to find out something more tangible if he looked through the two absent pilots' rooms. Quatre watched him go, lifting a hand to his chest involuntarily as his nervousness grew.
Neither seemed to realize that they were talking about completely different things.
* * *
Duo grinned as he settled into Wing's pilot chair, practically glowing with excitement. He wasn't thrilled about Heero using Deathscythe, but at least he had gotten a fairly equal trade. The Japanese boy was quite protective of his gundam, and Duo had never been allowed to spend any real amount of time around it. He hoisted the bag he had brought along onto his lap, eagerly opening it and riffling through its contents.
Technically he was supposed to be searching for the disk right now, but Duo knew he had plenty of time to spare. It didn't really matter what he did first, whether he hacked or looked for the device, and Duo didn't feel like wandering through the woods just yet. He wanted to wait until it got a little later, in case Heero's theory about an OZ patrol proved to be true.
He pulled out a CD, smiling with satisfaction. Heero might have had an awesome system for fighting and tactics, but his entertainment was no doubt lacking. Duo felt it only right that he should leave Heero with a little souvenir, and swiftly began installing a small music library into Wing's memory.
Once the files were transferred, Duo picked one at random to play while he booted up the laptop. The familiar rhythm of a rock beat filled the small space, and Duo sighed contentment as he leaned back to begin his work. He hoped that Heero was having as easy of a time as he was.
* * *
"Come on, Wufei, can't you go any faster?" Quatre demanded, a sharpness in his voice that was not common for the usually polite boy. Wufei gave the blond an exasperated look.
"It's Barton. I'm sure he's fine," he said in attempt to calm his companion, but he couldn't seem to conceal the fact that he was nervous, too. They had received a transmission earlier from the pilot of Heavyarms, saying that he had been injured and would not be able to make it back to the safe house alone. Quatre had gone into a frenzy immediately, and after getting the coordinates of the tall boy's gundam Wufei hadn't been able to restrain the boy.
They had stolen a vehicle without much trouble, and were now en route to where their injured friend was waiting. Quatre was all but quivering in his seat, his wide cerulean eyes searching frantically for signs of Trowa. They had long since left behind all semblances of civilization; Heavyarms could easily be concealed close by.
"There!" Quatre cried, thrusting his finger across Wufei's chest to point out the hunched figure of Trowa's gundam. It was concealed well enough that any common passerby would never have noticed it, but to the trained eye it was easy to spot. Quatre frowned. "Trowa must really be hurt, to leave himself so vulnerable."
"We're in the middle of nowhere, Winner," Wufei retorted, pulling the vehicle to a halt not far from the towering metal giant. "Barton isn't stupid." Quatre ignored Wufei's sharp comments; he dove out of the car before it had stopped rolling, scrambling toward Heavyarms with a shout.
"Trowa!"
"It's not so bad," Trowa said again, after the blond had sufficiently looked him over anxiously. His arm was secured in a makeshift tourniquet, and he had his other hand pressed to his side. "My ribs are bruised. I don't think I can walk any long distance on my own, that's all."
"You're not fine," Quatre said fiercely, his eyes blazing. "You're still bleeding, Trowa! And you look terrible!"
"Well, thank you," Trowa said caustically, rolling his eyes. Quatre winced a little at the tone.
"Sorry, Trowa, I didn't mean it like that," he whispered. Trowa's face softened immediately.
"Neither did I. I'm just on edge … sorry," the banged boy replied.
"Are you two quite done with your spat?" Wufei demanded, standing akimbo on the ground and staring up at the cockpit.
"Sorry, Wufei, everything's fine," Trowa called back. Quatre smiled regrettably.
"I overreacted. Trowa's right, I really should ha-ngh!" his words chopped off abruptly as he cringed, his hands seeking out his chest as he gave a squeak of surprise.
"Quatre?" Trowa said, concerned, his hand abandoning his ribs to help balance the blond. Quatre gave a shuddering breath, and shook his head vehemently.
"Oh Allah, Trowa … it hurts!"
"What is it, Quatre? What?"
"It's … I think it's Heero!" Quatre managed to gasp. "Something's wrong with…"
"Can you block it?" Trowa asked carefully. Quatre gritted his teeth.
"Call him … please, Trowa … call him on your com. Please? See if he's okay?"
"…Okay, Quatre. Okay."
Duo jolted awake suddenly, the sound of loud music permeating his still hazy mind. Something had alerted his senses … he frowned. He shouldn't have been sleeping at all. How long had it been since he had fallen asleep, anyway?
Suddenly he realized what had awoken him. He was getting an incoming visual communication. Who would be trying to contact him, if not for …
"Heero!" he bolted to a more upright position. "Damn! Is it that late already?" He scrambled to turn off his music, and put a strong scowl on his face as he moved to accept the call. If Heero was done with the mission all ready, he would no doubt be wondering where the heck Duo was. Heero was probably pissed …
"Look, I …" he began, but abruptly cut off when he saw that it was Trowa's face staring back at him. "Trowa?" The tall pilot looked ragged, and Duo's expression deepened. Something was off …
"Everything okay, Heero?" Trowa asked bluntly. "Are you all right?"
"Of course I'm all right," Duo replied. "I can't say the same about you, though."
"You see, Quatre? He's fine …" Trowa said, ignoring Duo's remarks as he turned to his side. Quatre was suddenly leaning over him, his pained face appearing on the screen.
"But … but are you sure?" he asked, his voice surprisingly weak.
"What's going on?" Duo demanded.
"It's nothing, Heero. Quatre thought he sensed you were in some kind of danger or something, but …" Trowa started to explain, then winced when Quatre fell into him with a hiss of discomfort.
"Nn … sorry, Trowa," Quatre pulled away from the wounded boy immediately. "I didn't mean to hurt you … but … it isn't going away!"
"Quatre? What's going on?" Duo demanded, carefully enunciating every word.
"I'm sorry, Heero, I just thought you were … were hurt or something … I was sure it was you …" Quatre attempted to explain, but was interrupted by a startled gasp from Duo. A light had suddenly come on in Duo's mind.
"Oh shit! Heero!"
The communication was cut before Trowa and Quatre even had a chance to ask why the Japanese pilot was talking in the third person.
Continued