Title: Trading Faces
Rating: PG-13, just because I feel like it.
Warnings: Profanity, violence, eventual 1x2 pairing, Wufei in a 'mothering' position … 0.o … that's certainly interesting …
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 go to: Angel of Insanity (I'm not mean, really! It's plot … yes … but don't cry! It'll be better soon enough!) Bryony (Plan? What plan? Hahaha, no, I'm not cruel. I have … something thought up, anyway) Elle-FaTe2x1 (Yes, sort-of answers. I like that!) LB (Duo's a shameless flirt, what can I say? Heero should take note!) Foxfire (I really do enjoy torturing the boys … tsk tsk to me) shinigami angel (Aww, don't cry! It'll be okay!) Yume (heh, page turner … thanks so much! Glad you like! The rest is coming!) Demon Vampyre Goddess (Ah! You gave my 100th review! Sugoi! *does a happy dance* I feel so loved! You should get a prize! Too bad I'm broke … hehe) Dreamer (I'm glad you enjoy it! I'll try to make something Heero-centric for you, but I'm afraid I can't promise it … this dang story has a mind of its own … but I'll try! Maybe I'll write a sidefic if it doesn't work in the actual fic *shrugs*) Naomi (*hands over a tissue* It was kind of heart-wrenching, ne? I can't believe I wrote it … but I'll make it better, promise!) Chibi Amy Chan (So glad that you like! Fave list? Ack, I'm flattered! *grins*) Violet Yuy-Maxwell (Yeah, Duo kind of figures out that the dream was Heero's … I think I'll touch on that a bit more in this chapter. I'm so glad you like!) Natasha (It's not a stupid question … others have been wondering too, methinks. I hope this chapter makes it more clear!) lillie chan (Happy birthday to you, and thanks for reviewing!) Clairol (No, that wasn't that short … heh. Thanks so much for the feedback, though! It makes me happy!)
_ _ _
Wufei groaned in frustration, his arms laden with medical supplies, a few ice packs, and all the blankets he had managed to find in the house's disorganized linen closet. He paused to throw a quilt at Heero, growling something about going to sleep before continuing down the hall.
"Wufei, I'm not …"
"Yuy! Do as I say, right now! I can handle it, you just take care of yourself!" Wufei burst, all patience gone. He continued to stomp down the hall, toward the living room where Trowa and Quatre were sprawled across various pieces of furniture. Wufei dropped the ice packs on Trowa's stomach, causing the usually silent boy to yelp in protest to the sudden change in temperature.
"Don't move!" Wufei ordered, watching Trowa attempt to sit. "You'll just damage your ribs further! That ice was hard to come by, I suggest you use it!" Trowa glared at the Chinese boy but wisely kept silent. Wufei was not in a happy mood. He pitied the blond that sat on a nearby chair, cradling his head in his hands as he moaned. Wufei was not exactly the gentlest person when it came to first aid.
"We don't have anything for the pain, Winner. I'm sorry," Wufei said bluntly, kneeling next to the chair and dumping his armful onto the floor. Quatre swore viciously; at least, Wufei thought he was swearing. As long as the boy spoke in Arabic, Wufei really had no idea what the blond was saying. It didn't sound nice, though.
"The best I could do was some hard liquor. Do you want it?" Wufei asked, forcing the boy to let go of his head as he pushed Quatre's chin up. Quatre winced as Wufei thrust the beam a small flashlight into his face.
"Ah! Stop it!" he whimpered. "I'm concussed, I know, I know! Turn it off!" Wufei clucked his tongue disapprovingly but complied, tossing the flashlight aside.
"We're going to have to deal with that bullet in your shoulder, too," he pointed out. "Do you want the alcohol or not?"
"N-no," Quatre started to shake his head, then realized what a bad idea the movement was. "I'll go without …"
"As you wish," Wufei shrugged, spreading a blanket on the floor and easing the wounded blond onto the floor. "You may as well lie down. This is going to hurt a lot."
Quatre rattled off another string of Arabic curses, his voice dripping sarcasm, but allowed Wufei to settle him onto the blanket. His shoulder was already on fire thanks to a stray bullet; he didn't think it could get much worse.
"Are you ready?" Wufei asked, cutting away Quatre's bloodied shirt as he spoke. Quatre gritted his teeth, started to nod, but when his head protested with a sharp stab of pain he froze.
"As much as I can be," he muttered.
"Quatre," Trowa spoke up from the couch, his face heavy with worry as he watched them. "I know you don't like to drink, I really think you should take the alcohol."
"I'll … be okay," Quatre said. "I don't need it." Trowa sighed, but held his tongue. He knew how stubborn the blond could be if he wanted to.
"Grit your teeth," Wufei warned him, and suddenly Quatre's shoulder erupted in blinding pain. He gave a strangled cry and struggled against Wufei despite himself, causing Wufei to withdraw.
"Winner …" he growled impatiently.
"Fine, I'll take it!" Quatre resigned himself. "Give me the drink!"
"You know, you wouldn't be in this situation at all if you hadn't been so reckless," Wufei admonished him gently as he helped Quatre sit so that he could swallow the proffered drink. Quatre glared at him, sipping at the amber liquid and flinching at the burning quality.
"I had to make sure that the others had a chance to get away," Quatre explained himself, choking down as much alcohol as he could.
"Just take it all at once, Winner," Wufei instructed him, noticing that a good portion of the liquid was not making it into Quatre's mouth. A moment passed as Quatre reluctantly stomached the drink. "Sometimes your sense of duty astounds me. You pushed yourself too far." Quatre sputtered then.
"I don't believe you just said that, Wufei," he said incredulously, already feeling slightly hazy. Whatever the Chinese pilot had given him, it was strong.
"You can act honorably without being masochistic," Wufei retorted, rolling his eyes as he settled Quatre back onto the blanket.
"I'm not masochistic," Quatre countered. "You're just … lucky …"
"You do realize that I can't let you fall asleep either. The concussion," Wufei reminded. Quatre groaned, falling once more into Arabic.
"Should I come help?" Trowa asked, obviously worried. Wufei looked sharply at him.
"What did I say? Don't move, Barton! Winner will be fine without you puncturing a lung, you know!"
Trowa promptly shut his mouth, and turned his head away as Wufei started the search for the bullet in Quatre's shoulder. He was quite glad he couldn't understand Arabic at that moment. Whatever Quatre was screaming, it couldn't have been pleasant.
* * *
Duo wandered up to the safe house as the first tinges of dawn had begun to light the sky, dragging his bag along with him wearily. He approached the door cautiously, hoping that in his exhausted state he had not misread the coordinates. One glance at the type of lock securing the side door quelled his apprehensions; it was a safe house, all right. He knelt to pick the lock jadedly, wanting nothing more than to collapse in a heap on the floor. Creepy dreams were not helpful in getting the proper amount of sleep, that was for damn sure.
He got inside the quiet house and entered silently, securing the door behind him and walking carefully across the dim room. The others were probably all sleeping; he didn't want to disturb them, but he did want to eat. Luckily, he had a good sense of direction. The kitchen was easy enough to find.
Dropping his bag absentmindedly, he went immediately for the cupboards. He knew his chances were slim, but he wasn't picky. He just needed something to fill his protesting stomach.
"Maxwell!" a quiet but irritated voice snapped behind him, causing him to whirl in surprised panic. "Just where the hell have you been?!" Duo opened his mouth to defend himself, but the words faded away as he took in the sight of a very disheveled, very pissed off Wufei. His arms were crossed over his chest and stray wisps of hair were trailing down his angered face, having escaped his usually immaculate ponytail. Suspicious dark crescents hung beneath his dangerous eyes.
"Wufei … you look beat!" Duo said instead, earning him an aggravated growl from the Chinese boy.
"How do you expect me to look, after playing nursemaid to those three nonstop all day and night?!" Wufei snapped. Duo's eyes widened in surprised amusement, and he had to hold back a chuckle. He would have given anything to see Wufei acting like a mother hen! Wufei sensed his amusement, and growled.
"It is not funny, Maxwell! Yuy and Barton are still not fit, especially since Barton re-aggravated his injuries! Winner was shot and quite concussed for a while, and I have not been able to sleep because I had to make sure none of them died on me while you were out cavorting around somewhere! Explain yourself!"
"Tch. Calm down, Wu," Duo said, attempting to placate the fuming pilot. "You're gonna keel over from stress, then they'll be four immobilized gundam pilots with only me to take care of you all! And trust me, you don't want that. I suck at just about everything involved in the whole convalescent process, and … Fei, seriously, stop scowling at me. Sorry, okay? I'm back now, so you can go to sleep! I'll take over once I eat."
"Good luck," Wufei snorted. "The only rations we have are whatever was here already, and I'm not sure any of it is still good. Where have you been?! And why are you wearing those clothes?!" Duo looked down at himself, sighing. In the haste of their escape Duo had brought his own stuff along, which meant if he wanted clean clothes he had to wear his own things. The black clothing didn't look too bad on Heero's body, actually …
"Something wrong with it?" he asked Wufei.
"It looks weird," the Chinese pilot retorted.
"Well guess what, this whole situation is weird, so get used to it!" Duo grumbled, turning back to the cupboard. "Geez, I try to go do something helpful and all you can do is stand there and … ah!" He cut off with a delighted cry, his hands closing around something in the cupboard.
"Maxwell?"
"Awesome! Chocolate cookies! I gotta thank whoever stocked this place!" Duo said cheerfully, waving the box of sweets at his companion. Wufei frowned.
"I thought Yuy forbade you to eat such things," he pointed out. Duo rolled his eyes, searching for an expiration date on the box. Oh, please, let them still be good …
"I don't see Heero anywhere, do you?" Duo replied lightly, his face lighting up as he realized the cookies were still fit to eat. That was all he needed to know, and he tore into the packaging ravenously. He stuffed a handful into his mouth, not caring how ridiculous he might look, and suddenly froze.
"What?" Wufei asked, and his eyes widened as he watched Duo spit the cookies back into his hand with a shocked look on his face.
"Oh no!" he groaned piteously. Wufei snickered.
"Maybe you should have checked the expiration date," he said dryly.
"I did," Duo frowned. "They're still good …"
"Then what's the problem?"
"… Heero doesn't like chocolate."
"What?" Wufei snorted. Duo turned sad eyes toward Wufei, deadly serious.
"Heero doesn't like them. They taste bad," he explained, then sighed. "Fei, I can't even eat cookies! This isn't fair! They're supposed to be good, damnit!" He flung the box across the room, folding his arms to brood. Wufei sighed.
"There are worse things in life, Maxwell," he said tersely. "Now, are you going to tell me where you've been or not?!"
"Tch, geez, okay," Duo sighed, and started to explain where he had been. Wufei listened patiently, and when Duo finally finished the story he nodded slowly.
"You could have let us know your plans," was all he said, his words cold but no longer as angry as they had once been. "We were worried that something had happened to you. Winner had to threaten Yuy to keep him from going to search for you."
"What? Quatre … threatened Heero?" Duo burst.
"Well, he was still slightly tipsy, not to mention disoriented from the pain. I had only just finished patching up his shoulder. He has … quite a violent Arabic vocabulary, from what I can tell …"
"Oh, Fei, what else did I miss? How come I always miss the good stuff?!" Duo whined. Wufei rolled his eyes.
"Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you disappear without word because you are inconsiderate and irresponsible," he retorted. "Honestly, Maxwell, we wouldn't have tried to stop you."
"I know, man. That was kind of the point."
"Excuse me?"
"Think about it. Heero would have insisted on coming with me the moment he found out! I mean, it's nice that he cares and all, though he probably just wants to make sure his body is safe, but he would have botched everything up. It was something I had to do by myself, but I knew if I told him where I was going he would have followed me," Duo explained.
"Well, you could have called us afterward," Wufei said in concession, his face still weary. "Now, I'm going to bed. You can make sure everyone's comfortable for now."
"Hey, you don't have to be so bitter about it!" Duo called after the boy as Wufei left the room. "Geez, Wu-man, you're not a very good nurse, ya know?!"
"Maxwell!"
* * *
Heero had not been thrilled about his disappearance act either, but after explaining himself the angry young man had calmed considerably toward Duo. Since Heero refused to rest anymore Duo had decided to share his newly found information with the boy, who sat with him in the den. The other three were all still sleeping peacefully.
"I just don't get it, Heero," Duo sighed, scrolling down the laptop's screen with a bored expression on his face. "Most of this information's all useless anyway."
"There has to be someone that knows about it," Heero insisted from the couch, glaring around Duo at the screen. Duo snorted.
"Not according to old doctor whatever-his-name-was," he sighed. "Apparently the guy that invented this protean thingy was a nutcase, and he's dead now. Probably the guy that threw the damn thing at me in the first place. Hell, I wish I could shoot that sicko again …"
"I don't," Heero muttered irritably. Duo glanced at him curiously.
"Huh?"
"Duo, that researcher might have been our only hope! If he was still alive we could make him fix this …"
"Well, news flash, Heero. The guy's dead and there's nothing we can do about it. So we're just going to have to do this ourselves, huh?" Heero scowled, turned his back to Duo as he settled into the couch more comfortably, and fiddled with the disk in his hands. Silence overcame the two for a moment, and Duo bit his lip nervously. He really wanted to ask Heero about the dream that he had had, because he had a sneaking suspicion that the little boy in the dream had really been Heero. The whole dream had been in Japanese, for gods sakes! He didn't know why Heero's memories were able to surface in his sleep, but he was curious if it was happening to Heero too. And … he wanted to know if it was really true. If Heero really had been hurt like that at such a young age.
"Hey Heero?"
"Hn?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"… hn." Duo glanced at the other boy, wondering if he was paying attention at all. Oh well, guess he'd find out soon enough …
"Do you … do you remember anything about … your parents?"
He didn't miss the instant tension that wracked Heero's form, and the hands holding the disk suddenly became firm fists. He'd struck a chord, that was for sure. But did he want to push it …?
"Iie," Heero bit out at last. "I had no parents."
"Everybody's got parents, Heero. They're kind of necessary to the whole being created part of life," Duo replied, clicking on the computer even though his eyes were focused on the back of Heero's head. He didn't want Heero to know that he was so intently focused on him, after all …
"What of your parents, then?" Heero retorted. Duo felt a familiar flash of hurt, but quickly pushed it away. Heero was only being logical … that wasn't meant to hurt …
"Ah, I never knew 'em," he said casually, masking the pain he felt. "No big loss, huh? You can't miss what you can't remember … But what about you? Do you remember them?"
"… Leave me alone, Duo." Well, that wasn't a 'no'. Maybe he was getting somewhere.
"It was just a question, Heero. Don't you have an answer?"
"Not for you," Heero said coldly.
"I'm only curious, Heero …"
"Well, stop it!"
"Tch, fine. I only wanted to know …"
"It's none of your business anyway!"
"Well, maybe it is!" Duo burst, suddenly whirling away from the computer. "Heero, look at me!" Slowly, Heero turned hard eyes to meet Duo's gaze.
"What?" he demanded harshly.
"Who do you see, Heero? Who? Yourself? Well then, it is my damn business, you know!" Heero growled, turning away once more.
"Nonsense. You're you, and I'm me. We each still have our own pasts."
"Listen, Heero …!"
"No! I don't want to talk about this!" His words were angry and somewhat … desperate. Duo sighed and stood, moving to sit on the couch next to Heero. He had pushed too far. Heero started to get up, but Duo grabbed onto him and held fast.
"Heero, I just … wanted to know something about you. That's fair, ne?" he spoke softly. "I mean, look what we're going through. I think this qualifies as some kind of bonding experience, as screwed up as it is. I want to know you better, that's all. You don't have to talk about anything you don't want to."
"Then leave me alone," Heero demanded, looking away from Duo's stare. He tried to yank his arm from Duo's fingers, but the other boy didn't give way.
"Don't tell me about your parents, then. I don't care. But tell me something," Duo continued, trying to catch Heero's eyes. "It doesn't matter what. Forget the past. Your favorite color, something you enjoy doing … anything, Heero. I just have to know … I have to know something."
"Why?" Heero whispered bitterly, turning his face toward Duo as the boy tightened his grasp. Duo looked so intent …
"I just want to know … who I'm becoming," Duo murmured, his voice barely audible. "Who I might end up being. What if we're stuck like this, Heero? What if …?"
"Duo," Heero interrupted, his voice grating awkwardly. "Don't …"
"We have to face it sometime, Heero," Duo pressed, shaking his head at Heero's protest. He remembered what that researcher had said. 'I'm not sure that it was designed to work both ways ...' He shuddered. "God, Heero, I don't want to think about this either. But I don't want to kid myself. What if this … is how we're going to be, from now on? What if I have to be Heero Yuy for the rest of my life? What if you have to be Duo Maxwell?"
"Duo … we're still ourselves …" Heero said weakly.
"Sort of," Duo said, his expression growing sad. He leaned closer to Heero, his hand still holding onto Heero's arm. "I'm still me. But that doesn't cover up the fact that I'm you, too. Can you honestly say you haven't felt strangely since the switch, or that you haven't noticed sometimes that your actions just aren't you?" Heero winced. He remembered his apprehension, he remembered the tears … most of all, he remembered the dream.
"You see?" Duo said gently. "I hate this, Heero. I hate what it's doing to me … to you. I hate that I can't …" He faltered then, his eyes drifting down to look at his hand on Heero's arm.
"You can't what?" Heero asked, his throat suddenly dry. His whole body felt suddenly very cumbersome and weary. "Duo?"
"Heero," Duo replied, his voice fragile. "I think I'm going crazy, Heero. Please, just tell me something … I just want to know you …"
"Duo. Why won't you look at me?"
"Don't want to look. Don't want to see me. I don't want you to be me. I want you to be Heero."
"Duo …" Heero said helplessly. His free hand rose on its own, feeling oddly detached as he reached out to gently nudge Duo's face up. "I am Heero …" Duo gave a little muffled whimper, allowing Heero to move his chin. He was met with the sight of familiar indigo eyes, but there was something else there. Something solid and strong, something barely unable to hide the delicate concern concealed there. Something undeniably Heero.
"God, Heero …" Duo sobbed, and suddenly he was moving forward. He didn't know what compelled him to do it, to let go of Heero's arm in favor of a place on his neck, to let his lips fall against the unprepared ones of the Perfect Soldier. For a split second his mind spun, and then he realized what was going on.
He jumped back as though he had been burned. He couldn't do this … it was Heero, but it wasn't. It felt like Heero, but it didn't. The face that looked back at him, obviously dazed, was still his own. It wasn't Heero.
"I'm sorry …" he whispered, on his feet instantly as he whirled toward the door. Even after he escaped into the relative safety of the hall, Duo wasn't sure what he felt sorry for; the fact that he had unintentionally kissed Heero, or the fact that he hadn't been able to follow through.
* * *
It was quite a while before Heero realized that he was alone in the room, staring at the couch cushions where Duo had once been. His lips felt strangely warm, and he lifted a tentative hand to feel them. He wasn't sure what had just happened. He had no idea …
That had certainly been unexpected.
A sharp pang of something darted through his chest, and he frowned. He didn't like the fact that Duo was so upset. He didn't like it one bit. He would have done anything at that moment to make Duo happy again, but there was nothing he could do. There was only one thing that could fix everything …
He glared furiously at the disk, which lay on the sofa next to his thigh. Snatching it up sharply, Heero scowled at it. He would do anything to make Duo feel better, but this stupid thing wouldn't. It didn't care who got hurt.
"This is all your fault," Heero hissed at the inanimate object, and then tossed it away from him to the far end of the couch. He had not expected Duo to fall apart. No, he didn't think that anything, even something this horrible, could faze the normally carefree boy. Duo would always laugh it off, pretend it was nothing. It was a completely illogical reaction in times of danger.
And Heero loved it. He needed it. Duo was everything that he could not be, and somehow that had come to comfort him. Duo was not supposed to fall apart. And now that he had …
The reality of the kiss finally dawned on him, and he leaned his head on the back of the couch as he pulled his knees up to his chest. Sure, Duo had been upset, but why had he done that? Maybe they had been forced to grow closer due to the switch, but that didn't warrant such an intimate gesture. That didn't force Duo to care. Funny, though, he hadn't minded it all that much …
Hadn't minded it at all, actually. Oh, it had been nothing short of gauche and awkward, seeing his own face but thinking Duo. Reason told him that it was wrong, but reason had flown out the window the moment his consciousness had been placed in Duo's body. There was nothing reasonable about the entire situation.
It was uncharted territory. His training hadn't covered anything like this. The thought of training made him snort in disheartened amusement. All the training in the world would never be able to fix this situation. Heero was definitely lost on what to do next. He hadn't meant to upset Duo … he hadn't meant for any of this to happen …
Pushing himself from the couch suddenly, he decided that the only logical thing to do was go over the information that Duo had obtained in attempt to find a solution. Yes, that was what a soldier would do. A soldier wouldn't let emotions interfere.
His eyes were drawn unwillingly toward the doorway where Duo had disappeared. Again, he felt unsure. But then he knew. There was one other thing he had to do first.
Duo sat slumped on the bed, his fingers tightly gripping the bed sheets as he scowled at the floor. He was such an idiot! What had he been thinking?! Heero was going to hate him. Heero was going to murder him … and that's if he was lucky ...
A sound at the doorway made him look up in surprise. There, at the threshold, stood a very expressionless Heero. Duo shifted nervously, but he knew what was coming. Best to apologize now …
"Listen, Heero, I …"
"Purple," Heero interrupted. Duo paused, his mouth partially open in confusion. What had Heero just said?
"Wh-what?"
"My favorite color," Heero explained as he turned, already moving back into the hallway. "It's purple."
Continued