Title: Trading Faces
Rating: PG-13, just because I feel like it.
Warnings: Profanity, violence, eventual 1x2 pairing, etc. 3x4 popping up again …
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: Faye Maxwell, Angel of Insanity, Bryony, Clairol, Elle-FaTe2x1, Terrasa, Violet, Kuso-chaN
_ _ _
Duo wandered aimlessly, hands plunged into the pockets of his jacket as his footsteps echoed hollowly on the paved sidewalk. A blast of wind assaulted the back of his neck, sending an involuntary tremble through his frame; it was a painful reminder that his braid wasn't there. His braid would have normally protected him from the damn ice-wind, but that wasn't possible anymore. His braid was attached to a sadistic bastard that was probably at this very moment gleefully smashing his digital camera into itty bitty pieces. It wasn't like he had done anything wrong …
His fingers clutched a small square of hard plastic, and a ghost of a smile flitted across his face. The other two film cards had no doubt suffered the wrath of the Perfect Soldier, but this one was safe and sound. Come hell or high water, Duo wasn't letting it into Heero's sight. He'd have his damn pictures, that was for damn sure.
He sighed, ultimately unaware that his feet were no longer on solid pavement as his mind mulled over other things. He wouldn't have even needed the pictures, if he wasn't so damn afraid. Afraid of never seeing the most beautiful smile he had ever seen ever again.
Heero had one hell of a smile, even if he never ever used it. Duo had discovered it once when staring into the mirror, and as a result had stayed in the bathroom far longer than Heero would have permitted if he hadn't been bedridden. Sure, he had smiled as Heero before, but he had never been able to see himself. Staring at his reflection as he smiled for all he was worth, he knew he was onto something. It twinged his soul and refused to stop nagging him until he had made sure he would be able to see Heero's smile any time he wanted. Because after they were switched back, Duo doubted that Heero's face would ever crack again.
That thought hit him hard, and Duo had no idea why. Okay, so he had an idea why, but it was an absurd thought that shouldn't have been running around in his head in the first place. It was the result of stress and trauma and all sorts of other things that he was probably suffering due to the switch. He didn't want to admit that it might be true. He didn't want to hand his heart over to something he would never be able to have.
So he was falling for Heero.
Hard.
Fast, too, but that was beside the point. The point was, he felt closer to Heero than he ever thought he would, and he knew it wouldn't last. Because once they got switched back Heero would go back to glaring and 'hn'ing, treating Duo like a sub-standard but tolerable soldier and nothing else. He'd probably pretend that the whole goddamn ordeal had never happened at all, Duo thought dolefully. He didn't care if Heero ever returned his sentiments in the same degree, but he wanted Heero to be his friend.
He'd settle for that. He didn't want to push his luck.
All the same, he'd sooner die than lose his chance at having a smiling Heero. Even if it was only in a picture.
* * *
He didn't remember falling asleep.
Yet here he was, in a dreamscape that had an all-too-familiar feel.
He didn't fight it. He had long since learned not to fight the nightmares. Fighting them was always fruitless, and it just made him feel worse. He was weak when it came to this sort of battle. He couldn't defeat his own subconscious, no matter how hard he tried.
So he didn't try. He went peacefully, wondering what was plaguing his mind now. His weak subconscious mind. He had never told anyone that his subconscious was so fragile. It was unfitting of a soldier. The others never would have let him live it down. They didn't have stupid, childish nightmares. They certainly didn't cry in their dreams.
Yes, he was crying. He could feel the odd sensation of warm wetness trailing down his gritty cheeks, a feeling that was only an echo of experience. He couldn't remember actually having cried in real life, but even he was a child once. Perhaps he had cried then. He really didn't recall.
It was dark in his dream, and he felt very small. Small and helpless and pathetic, huddled between the rubble on the dirty cement of a world he had never seen before. Before him, the shapeless dark buildings burned with horrible orange flames that towered up, up, up into the nothingness that was probably the sky. He felt a shudder quake through his tiny body, and he hugged himself against the tremors.
This wasn't right. This wasn't the world of his nightmares.
She lay before him, smiling despite it all as she struggled for her last breaths. She reached one bloody hand toward him, beckoning him, and he recoiled with a whimper of despair.
My fault …
He frowned, or at least he would have if the dream had not taken such a strong hold of him. It wasn't his fault. He didn't know who the dying woman was. Where had that thought come from …?
There was another body, too. Another body, suddenly close to him. Its tousled head lay on his knees, and his small hands were securely fisted around the body's ragged clothing. It was another boy, a small boy with a serene look on his pale, cold face. He was dead. Startled, he tried to shove the body away from him, but the dream wouldn't let him. The tears grew harsher.
All my fault …
It wasn't, he protested, but the words wouldn't form on his lips. His voice was locked away somewhere far away, someplace where the dream didn't have control. But the dream was controlling him …
There were suddenly bodies everywhere. Old people and children, babies and teenagers and soldiers alike. All dead and rotting and burning in the flames that circled even closer. He was soaked with blood. Their blood. Blood of the countless innocents that had been his fault. He felt like screaming.
Then the pain came. He was used to the phantom pains; this was more like the dreams he had become accustomed to. He didn't struggle against it like he did most times; he let unseen hands beat him and break him, because he was still too horrified by the flashes of all those bodies …
"You are nothing but weakness … just look at you!"
"Can't even fight back, hmm?"
"Worthless …"
"Stop whimpering like a baby! The pain will make you stronger!"
"Do you want to be perfect or don't you?! Pick up the gun!"
The voices swirled around him, and suddenly his hands closed around the comforting feel of a firearm. He closed his eyes and began to fire, not caring who or what was hit by the flying bullets. His voice found him at last and he started to scream, trying to block out the jeering and the blank, empty faces of all those people … all his fault …
He woke up with a start, jolting to a sitting position and clutching the tangled sheets desperately.
His breath was short and panicked; he willed himself to calm as the shouts and images faded to nothing in his mind. Slowly, he lay back down, rubbing a palm against his damp face as a final shudder shot through him.
He had never had a dream like that. He often relived bits of his training in his sleep, the beatings and the taunts of his mentor. But the bodies, the fire … he had never seen that before.
But at the same time, he knew it was real. That woman and that boy …
It had happened. But it hadn't happened to him.
Had those been Duo's experiences, then?
Was he seeing something that belonged to Duo?
Heero squeezed his eyes closed, and willed the memories to disappear.
It was just a dream, after all. Just a dream …
* * *
Duo suddenly realized where his feet had taken him. He was in the middle of a forest … the forest. He paused, taking a moment to collect his bearings as he looked around the peaceful trees. Had he really walked far enough to be back in the area of the disk? It was possible, he supposed. He had been quite lost in his thoughts.
An idea took hold of him, and he smiled slowly. He'd show Heero he wasn't an idiot. He was going to find that stupid disk all by himself.
Taking note of where he was, he picked a direction and started walking. Heero had very careful eyes, and Duo took full advantage of his good sight to scan the underbrush for any possible glint of metal. It couldn't be that hard, he figured. After all, wouldn't something shiny and round stick out amongst twigs and dead leaves?
It was growing dark, the sunset turning everything a pale golden color, and Duo scowled. He'd been wandering for hours and had gotten no where. Maybe the disk had sprouted legs and ran off, he mused darkly. Using his improvised walking staff, a sturdy albeit withered tree limb that had been mostly stripped of its bark, he stabbed angrily at the air and gave a small cry of frustration. Turning the stick into a javelin, he hurled it as hard as he could into the woods. It clattered against a tree and toppled to the earth, out of Duo's view.
He really didn't want to give up, but the situation just kept looking more and more bleak. He really wanted to show Heero that, for once, he wasn't a screw-up. That he really could do something when it came down to it. He was tired of being Duo the Baka. He wanted to be Duo the Triumphant. Yeah, he liked the sound of that.
Lost in his reverie, his foot snagged against tree root and, with a yelp, he toppled forward face first into the loamy earth.
Scratch that. Duo the Klutz.
He spit the leaves and grit away from his mouth, groaning as he slowly started to push himself up. He opened his eyes, and froze. No freaking way.
Duo the Lucky-As-All-Hell Klutz.
No. Freaking. Way. His eyes had to be playing tricks on him.
"Well, shit," he muttered, pulling himself forward and swatting away the dry, brown leaves that covered the ground in front of him. His eyes lit up. "C'mere you little bastard!" He reached out, his cold fingers latching onto it. It was real, and he let loose a whoop of delight. It was the disk! The very same god-awful cursed piece of OZ folly, in tact and still blinking its stupid little red light! He jumped to his feet, clutching the device to his chest and dancing back and forth from one foot to the other in excitement. He really had it, he really did!
Turning on his heel and laughing aloud to the desolate forest, he took off at a run. He had to get back to the house!
* * *
The door banged against the wall as it was thrown open, and Duo pranced in. Wufei did a double-take, gawking despite himself. Yuy's body was prancing. Duo waved at him, practically skipping across the linoleum.
"Maxwell?" Wufei frowned. "What's with you?"
"Oh, nothing, Wu," Duo shrugged.
"You missed dinner," Wufei said sharply. "We thought something happened. You should have said something if you planned to be gone so long."
"Aw, I'm a big boy, Wu."
"Hm," Wufei crossed his arm, snorting softly. "You're certainly in a better mood." Duo nodded, moving toward the refrigerator to pilfer from the leftovers.
"Oh, you know," he said dismissively. "I had time to cool off. Walk … think … find the disk … you know."
"Oh, well I gu-what?!" Wufei faltered in mid sentence, nearly spilling the glass of water he was holding. "You found it?!"
"Sure," Duo shot back, stuffing some random food into his mouth and chewing as he shut the refrigerator's door again. He swallowed as he smirked at Wufei's shocked face. "I'm not an idiot, Fei. I am capable of remembering and retracing a path from a few days ago. I was out, so I figured why not?" Okay, so that was a big exaggeration, but it was sort of the truth, Duo reasoned in his mind.
"Well, where is it?!" he demanded. Duo patted his coat pocket and began to slip the garment off as he walked toward the coat closet.
"Want to see? Let's go show Heero, huh? He's gonna be so surprised," Duo said, rummaging through his pocket briefly and pulling the disk out before hanging the jacket up. Wufei followed him into the living room, glancing curiously at the circular object. Duo turned around, and suddenly his eyes widened. Trowa and Quatre were curled up on the couch, in a rather compromising position.
"Gah!" Duo cried, throwing one hand over his eyes dramatically. "PDA! PDA![1]"
"Duo!" Quatre yelped, immediately pulling back from the taller boy. Trowa made a disapproving noise in his throat, looking at Duo sternly.
"It's called kissing, Duo, and it's nothing to get uptight about."
"Oh, is that what it's called?" Duo replied, peeking through his fingers at the pair. "I was under the impression that it was something more along the lines of 'tonsil-exchanging face sucking'!"
"Duo, please! Don't be crass!" Quatre pleaded, obviously embarrassed. Duo let his hand drop, smiling apologetically.
"Sorry. Couldn't resist."
"Wufei said you were upset," Quatre said. "He told us about the, um … disagreement. I had to give him the camera, Duo, I'm sorry!"
"It's okay, Quatre," he said, tapping the side of his nose. "I've got back up."
"Oh?" Quatre said curiously. "Well, I'm glad you aren't upset anymore."
"Why would I be upset?! I'm about to save the day here!" he said happily, lifting his other hand to proudly display his round, blinking prize. "Tada!"
"Is that … the disk?" Quatre asked.
"The very same!" Duo nodded. "I'm gonna go show Heero. Wanna come? Might be cool to watch!"
"If … if you want us to," Quatre said, glancing at Trowa to judge his reaction. The banged boy nodded, and they stood. Duo turned toward the stairs, and took them two at a time as he hurried to find Heero. He trusted the others would follow.
Heero was in the hall when Duo made it to the second floor, probably returning from a trip to the bathroom. He stopped short as he saw Duo's face, ignoring the others as they came up behind him.
"What's that look for?" he demanded.
"Feeling any better, Heero?" Duo asked lightly.
"Hn," Heero shrugged. "Well enough. Why?"
"Oh … just wondering how I'm gonna be feeling after I … get my body back!" Duo said dramatically, bringing the disk out from behind his back and holding it up smugly. Heero's eyes widened.
"You … you found it!" Duo smirked; was that a hint of excitement that he detected in Heero's voice? Nodding enthusiastically, Duo took a few steps toward the other boy.
"I did. It was my job after all, right?" he said, trying not to sound too eager to please. Heero gave a small smile, and Duo felt satisfaction. It might have been his own face, but Heero was the one making it smile. That meant he was happy, right? "So, are you ready to have your body back?"
Heero merely held out his hand, and Duo held back a laugh.
"Well, hold on a sec," he said. "I gotta hit a few buttons, you know? Like last time."
"Do it, then."
"Hmm, okay," Duo replied, looking down at the object in his hands. He tried not to hesitate, but he honestly didn't know which buttons to push. They'd only wound up pushed last time because it was dark and Duo had slammed into Heero's back. Duo pushed one button, and then another. Nothing seemed to be happening, but he didn't let it show.
"Uh, just give me a second," Duo said. "Stupid piece of …"
"Duo," Heero sighed, tension obvious in his voice. Duo took another couple of steps until he was right in front of the impatient boy.
"Okay, Heero, just grab hold, and we'll get this thing going," he said, extending his hand slightly so that Heero could hold onto the disk as well. Heero took it between his fingers calmly, and after a second he frowned.
"It's not the same, Duo," he said sharply.
"Is too, Heero," Duo retorted. "This is the damn disk, all right."
"I know that," Heero said. "But it doesn't feel the same as last time. Last time … it pricked me."
"You too?" Duo rose an eyebrow. "Huh. I thought I was imagining that. Just hold on, let me fiddle with it a bit more." Heero nodded, but it was plain to see that the boy was getting more intolerant of the lack of action.
Duo growled a little as his next attempt failed, and the next. The disk simply wasn't doing anything. He finally ripped it away from Heero's hand, holding it close to his face.
"Damn you!" he cursed the object. "What the hell is your problem? Do you need batteries or something?"
"Duo, could we look at it?" Quatre offered, taking a step toward them. Duo shook his head.
"Don't wanna risk it, Q," he said shortly. "I don't want you to have to touch this thing unless you have to." He shook it harshly, listening for any suspicious rattling inside. "Sounds okay."
"Duo, what's wrong with it?" Heero demanded. Duo snorted.
"Hell if I know," Duo said. "Maybe it's jammed, or having a glitch, or I'm not hitting the magic button. Geez, it's not like I'm an expert or anything! Dammit … last time, this little screen thingy had words scrolling. Now it's blank. Maybe it isn't turned on?"
Heero was shaking, his face cracking with an odd expression. Duo continued to fiddle with the disk, while the others stood by helplessly. But nothing was getting a reaction out of the device.
"I just don't get it," Duo sighed. "It was more than willing to work last time …! Hey!" He shouted in vain as Heero suddenly swiped the disk out of Duo's hands, his face full of dangerous fury.
"No!" he cried, crushing the disk in his fist briefly before throwing it heatedly into the wall. It thudded against the surface and clattered onto the floor harmlessly, spinning away from their feet on the hard surface. Heero snarled at it, and turned to stomp down the hall. He was still shaking all over. Duo watched him go with unbridled concern. The boy was overreacting, big time. Something was wrong.
Glancing apologetically at the others behind him, Duo took off down the hall after Heero. The boy had stopped just past the next doorway, his head bowed and his arms stiff at his sides.
"Hey, Heero?" Duo said gently, placing a hand lightly on the boy's shoulder. Heero shrugged him off roughly, flinching away from the touch. Duo sighed and maneuvered around him, so that he could bend to peer into Heero's tilted face.
"Doushita[2], Heero?" he tried again, speaking Japanese to effectively cut the others off from the conversation. The native words seemed to stir a reaction out of Heero, who slammed a fist half-heartedly into the wall before replying in his poorly accented but fluent Japanese.
"It's just not fair! Not when we were this close? Why won't it work?!" he hissed desperately.
"Heero, come on," Duo said, continuing in Japanese without even thinking about the oddity of the language. He was too focused on the boy in front of him. "I know it looks bad, but it might take a while to get a hang of the stupid thing, ne?"
"This … can't be happening," Heero muttered. "I can't function like this. I can't!"
"Heero, look at me," Duo said, not missing the slight tremor in his companion's voice. When Heero refused, Duo used a finger to tap Heero's chin up. Heero lifted his head but turned his eyes toward the wall, refusing to meet Duo's gaze. Duo's eyes widened slightly, noticing the suspicious gleam in Heero's eyes. Then, one traitorous droplet escaped to mar his cheek. Heero scowled.
"You're crying," Duo whispered. Heero's shoulders stiffened.
"Don't be ridiculous," he snorted. "I have never cried before. I don't know how to cry. Why … why would I be crying?"
"Heero," Duo said almost wistfully, reaching out to trace the tear away and catch a few others slid down after the first. "You might not know how to cry, but Duo Maxwell does." Heero looked up at that confession, his expression suddenly open and fearful.
"How do I make it stop?" he whispered, pleading.
"You don't," Duo said, slipping back into English. "You can let it out, though, Heero. It's okay. I won't think any less of you. It's me that's crying, not you. Okay? Okay, Heero?"
"Okay," Heero whispered.
"I know this sucks. Hell, I kinda feel like crying too," he admitted lightly, reaching to clasp Heero's shoulder in a comforting gesture. "It has to work again. We just don't know how to work it yet. We'll figure it out yet, huh? We'll get through all right. We always do."
Heero just nodded, and Duo glanced over the boy's shoulder. He noticed that the others had gracefully bowed out of the scene, giving them a little privacy. The disk was no longer on the floor; one of them must have picked it up. He hoped they were being careful …
"You gonna be okay, Heero? Want me to stick around … or, or get lost, or what?"
"I …would like to be alone. For now," Heero said quietly, momentarily meeting his eyes before dropping his gaze to the floor in embarrassment. "Thank you, Duo."
"Aw, don't mention it," Duo said, trying to mask the awkwardness. "I'm gonna see to the others. Try to get some more sleep if you can stand it, okay?" Duo expected an indignant remark, or at least some kind of 'hn', but the boy merely nodded and turned toward the bedroom once more. Duo watched him go, suddenly feeling like hell. Heero was coming apart just as much as he was.
For the moment, he was grateful for the Perfect Soldier mask that he was forced to wear. He probably would have been sobbing like a little baby otherwise.
"I hope you guys are being careful with that thing," Duo announced as he came into the living room. The disk lay on the coffee table; Quatre was bent over it, with Wufei and Trowa leaning over either shoulder curiously. "Only touch one at a time, and if it stings you, you'd better run like hell."
"We can look at it though, right?" Quatre asked hopefully. "Maybe we can figure out if something's wrong with it?" Duo could tell he was offering because both he and Heero were too wrecked to try, but the blond was courteous enough to keep such things unsaid. Duo nodded.
"Sure guys, whatever you want. I just hope it's not busted … you know, beyond fixing." There was an uneasy pause, then Quatre smiled bravely.
"Of course we'll fix it, Duo. Everything will be fine. Just fine."
"Sure Q-man. Sure it will," Duo said, though he couldn't help but doubt the words. "I'm really kind of tired, so I'm going to bed, okay?"
"Go ahead. Sleep well," Quatre replied.
"Good night," Trowa said, and Wufei merely nodded to him. Duo mumbled something back and turned to head back up the stairs. He felt like curling up to sleep, and never waking up.
Heero stared at the bed, weighing the pros and cons of getting back in. He was sure, in his injured state, that he could stand a little more rest. However, just the thought of another nightmare as vivid as the last was enough to keep him away from the normally inviting mattress.
With a final sigh he turned away from the sheets, making a decision.
He didn't want to sleep again, not if that would be the price.
He would just stay awake for now, even if that meant facing the horrible fact that perhaps he was stuck like this forever. Maybe this would become his body, his reality. He couldn't let his expectations get too high, just in case …
Just in case it was all false hope.
Just in case getting his own life back was nothing but a dream.
[1] PDA – We all know what this means, right? Public Display of Affection? Just everyone nod their head and say "Of course we do!" (Hey, someone might not!)
[2] Doushita – Sort of like "What's the matter?"