Hii
Small note: I didn't realize it was so confusing; I'll try and clear it up as best I can in Chapter three. Chapter Two is all action.
Warnings: none really, violence, angst, language
Last time: Heero came back from a mission 24 hours late. Duo approached him and Heero said, "I don't need you," and aimed his gun at Duo
Cyberdistroyer - heh-eh, sorry, hopefully ill make it clearer later
Celestial moon-fox - oo thankyou!
Onee-sama - okies! Thanku so much for de encouragement
Poopies - hehe thanku but whats XD
Subzero12 - thanks so much I was so happy 2 get this one
Caska Almasy - thankyoou, sorry for the wait..
Ink2 - aw this is prolly gonna confuse u now
Patty40 - thankyouu I love long reviews! That is so encouraging
Lady Sallyrose - hehe u know i was actually thinking of doing that, but naw.
TenshiNoKoori - thanks so much, I luv it when ppl sound hyped about my story Nelia - ehhe, sorry hopefully ull understand at the end
Kanon*A - thanks! Oo I love it when ppl pinpoint sentences
-
CHAPTER TWO
"Why, Heero...?" Duo pleaded.
Quatre swayed on his feet as emotions swept over him.
His eyes slid to Heero, to that bland, vacant expression. It was just a mask. Just an emotional shield Heero had faceted to protect himself. Tears burned at Quatre's eyes and his lower lip quivered. He caught it between his teeth and then bit down hard, tasting the salty tang of blood as it flowed into his mouth.
He had to slip under Heero's defenses. He had to understand.
Quatre opened his heart to the room's swirling emotions. Suddenly, a mixture of anguish and desperation gushed under Quatre's skin so hard and so fast the ground rolled beneath him. He staggered and fastened his eyes on Heero's, knowing that what he'd felt had been only a taste of the raw emotion behind that cold, unnatural mask.
Moving with graceful indifference, Heero shifted his stance. There was something Quatre should remember about that stance, something very, very portentous. His face puckered as he watched Heero's strong, slender fingers flex around the handle of his shotgun.
He looked at Duo, and then slowly slid his eyes to the boy adjacent. Heero and Duo were watching each other, locked in a staring contest so intense that no one had noticed Heero's blood pouring all over the floor.
'I must kill him.'
Quatre shuddered.
When he opened eyes he hadn't realized he had closed, he blinked confoundedly. He looked at Heero again, at his gun, his face, his hands.
And then his chest tightened, making it difficult to breathe. 'He's going to kill him,' Quatre realized, his eyes growing huge with shock and horror. Swinging his gaze back to the braided boy, he felt a hand curl around his heart and squeeze painfully. No. He couldn't lose Duo, he couldn't... Quatre clenched his fists and felt a flash of pain when he clamped his teeth down on an already torn lip. He ignored it. Quatre had to do something about Duo, and he had to do it NOW. Before it was too late.
Heero's eyes narrowed, a telltale sign he was about to shoot.
'No!!!'
Adrenaline raced through Quatre's blood, giving him the speed that his body could not. Quick as lightning, he slammed into Duo's side and rammed the boy to the right of Heero's weapon. At the same time, Heero whispered, "Because I need you."
Bang!
For a moment Quatre thought the bullet had hit its target and Duo was dead. Then the bullet zipped past his ear, nicking his earlobe, and Quatre and Duo crashed to the floor in a tangle of limbs. There was a sharp cry from behind, but Quatre didn't have the time to wonder why he hadn't heard the impact of the bullet.
Heero was already poising to shoot again.
With a yelp Quatre shut his eyes and instinctively kicked out his legs, trying to sweep Heero's legs out from under him. Even injured, Heero still had the reflexes of a panther. He swiftly caught Quatre's left ankle and twisted violently, eliciting a sharp cry from the blonde's mouth. Helpless, Quatre watched in horror as Heero raised his handgun and aimed at Duo, who was still lying on the floor out cold.
Quatre tried to jerk out of Heero's hold and gasped as his grip constricted. "Heero wait! Why are you doing this!"
Heero ignored him. Quatre's heartbeat rose to a furious canter. He had to stop him. But how?
Turning to the one person he could always count on, Quatre called, "Trowa!"
Heero whipped his head around too late, just in time to meet Trowa's unyielding fist. A fierce uppercut caught Heero under the jaw and thrust him into the air, sending him sailing into the back wall. Heero crashed against it with bone-breaking force, smearing red all over the timber, and then sagged on the floor.
Quatre waited to see if Heero would get back up. He didn't.
Stunned silence drifted over the room.
Trembling, Quatre tore his eyes away from Heero and began shaking Duo by the shoulders, "Duo!" He cried shrilly. "Duo!"
Had the bullet hit him? Quatre's mind raced desperately as he tried to rouse Duo. Had Quatre been wrong? Was Duo now bleeding to death?
Pain throbbed in Quatre's ankle, but he paid it no heed. Trowa's attack hadn't given Heero time to loosen his fingers around Quatre's leg. Hence, his ankle had been wrenched right out of its socket when Heero had been flung into the air.
"Q-man...?" Duo muttered blearily; a furrow forming between his eyes.
"DUO!!!"
Duo bolted upright, "shit! What?" He said, alert.
Relief flooded Quatre's body as he blubbered, "You're alive!" and threw his arms around the braided boy's neck; catching him off guard and knocking Duo onto his back again.
"No shit?" Duo asked; a baffled grin on his face. He wrapped his arms around Quatre's waist in an answering hug, and squeezed tightly.
Looking Quatre over, Duo abruptly pushed the blonde back up and exclaimed, "Quat, you're bleeding!"
Quatre's eyes flew wide. "I am?" He asked, and saw splotches of crimson blooming on Duo's shirt. Mildly confused, he felt a tingle on his ear, where the bullet had scraped him. As soon as his mind registered the injury, it began to burn fiercely, "I am!" Quatre said in surprise.
The blonde looked at Duo's ruined clothes and crumpled, "Oh I'm so sorry, Duo. I ruined your shirt."
Duo frowned. "You what?" He saw Quatre looking crestfallenly down at his shirt. "What? No, it's just a shirt, Quat. Who cares? I've got like ten others exactly like it. Now tell me what happened? Where's Heero?"
Quatre opened his mouth to reply, when he sensed a presence beside him. Puzzled, Quatre swiveled around on his knees, and started when he faced a pair of familiar, slender legs. "Trowa!" He chirped in delight and recognition and pushed himself off the floor, leaning heavily on his right leg.
Placing two gentle hands on the taller boy's shoulders, Quatre righted himself and smiled sweetly. But Trowa simply stared at him with glazed, unfocused eyes.
"Trowa?" Quatre asked, uncertain, his brows knitting in concern.
Why was Trowa staring at him like that?
A wisp of fear slipped beneath Quatre's confidence and an icy finger whispered down his spine. "T-Trowa?" Quatre stammered.
The blonde could only stare in shock and horror as Trowa fell to his knees, and left a pool of crimson liquid dripping from Quatre's right hand. It dribbled between his fingers and ran down his arm, swelling vibrantly on the edge of his pale sleeve. "Blood?" Quatre whispered, a film of tears forming across his eyes. "Why is there blood...?"
He barely heard Duo and Wufei curse harshly behind him.
"Trowa!!!" Quatre wailed and dropped to his knees opposite him. He caught Trowa's torso before the boy could topple forward and pushed him back up. His eyes darted to Duo's ashen face, as he buckled beneath Trowa's weight, "Duo, help me!" Quatre cried.
Duo stammered, pointing. "B-but Heero..."
"Wufei will take care of him! Help me!"
Duo swiftly crouched behind Trowa and held him upright by sliding his arms under Trowa's. Seeing he was supported, Quatre gently pulled Trowa's bangs back from his eyes, fixing his gaze on those emerald eyes and blinking away his tears. "Trowa, stay awake," he told him brokenly. "Stay awake."
-
Trowa felt a soft, caressing hand sweep his hair back from his forehead, and he wished fervently that he could've been fully conscious to relish that sensation. Quatre's blurry, glowing face appeared in front of him. "Trowa, stay awake," the angel ordered, but his voice held a note of desperation.
Trowa's eyes flew to Quatre's foot. No wonder he was so distressed. His ankle had been dislocated.
"Stay awake," the broken voice said.
The corners of Trowa's vision were obscured and the thick blackness was closing in fast. He had to apologize, quickly before the shadows engulfed him. "Quat," Trowa struggled to say, but only a husky whisper drifted past his lips. "Your ankle..."
The angel's eyes were tear-bright. "No, it wasn't your fault!" Quatre blurted. He feigned a happy smile as his voice shook, "Who cares about my ankle, you're hurt."
He was always so kind, so forgiving. Trowa closed his eyes. He didn't deserve Quatre, it was better off this way. At least now he wouldn't hold Quatre back, in battle, or in love. The blonde could seek out new loves - real loves - instead of a charity case like Trowa.
"I'm sorry," Trowa said softly.
He let the darkness take him.
-
Heero woke in inky blackness, tied down spread-eagled to a single bed with thick leather belts. His eyes snapped open. He whipped his head to the side and analyzed a restraint. He could tear through it within an hour, if necessary, but his recent blood loss might slow him down.
Heero began calculating his means of escape, when he heard soft, familiar footfalls approaching the bed. He breathed in a controlled lungful of humid, suffocating air.
'He's alive!'
'He's alive!' Heero wanted to shout in triumph. The magnitude of relief that swamped Heero frightened him. He was the Perfect Soldier, he shouldn't feel so elated, so wonderfully uplifted that his target had survived.
Heero ruthlessly squashed the tide of joy that had risen within him before it surfaced in his eyes. He was an instrument, he must remember. Breathing shallowly, Heero wiped away the joyous expression that he was certain had been on his face only a few seconds ago. When his eyes reopened, the emotions had fled his hard face and that cold mask of vacancy had returned.
Duo was supposed to be dead. He was supposed to have died.
What had gone wrong? It had seemed simple when Heero had been planning it yesterday. After the episode with Oz, he had identified Duo as a weakness, as a chink in his armor. All Heero had to do was eliminate him, and he could go back to that cold semblance of existence he called life.
It had sounded easy.
Heero remembered how it had felt to pull the trigger on his handgun; how it had felt to destroy the only thing that gave him a reason to prevail, to live, the only one who made it bearable. Every fiber of his being had screamed at him to stop, needed him to stop, and because he'd wanted - no, needed - to save Duo, Heero had killed him.
Or tried to.
Heero's heart pulsed at a calm, even rate.
Duo was alive.
Heero let the implications of those three words sink in. What would Duo do now? Would he kill Heero? End it for him? For a fleeting moment, Heero allowed himself a flare of hope. How would it feel to close his eyes and know that living no longer mattered, that he could disappear, forget the cold and the emptiness, and the killing, and enter the gates of Hell that waited for him?
Reality was cruel.
As long as the war existed, Heero would exist.
Heero clawed with his fingers and toes for a sharp object that could slash his bindings, or maybe be flung at Duo in order to escape.
There was a soft click and the lights flickered on. Heero was momentarily blinded, and he hastily blinked to increase the speed of his pupils' adjustment to the harsh yellow light. His hands and feet relaxed back on the sheets, empty. Nothing here to ease his escape.
Heero stared down at his body impassively. It was strange seeing smooth, clean flesh. A night with OZ and he'd forgotten how he looked when he wasn't drenched in blood.
Duo emerged as if from thin air, grinning like the Cheshire cat, his face fluorescent under direct, streaming light. He had one hand on his hip and several bruises on the right side of his body. His braid rolled over one shoulder.
"Hey Hee-chan," Duo sang, "Remember this?"
All of a sudden, Duo whisked Heero's handgun out from behind his back, twirling it with the fingers of his right hand.
Heero's eyes hardened.
"That's right, Heero," Duo cooed, "I've got your bitch, and there's nothing you can do about it."
Heero heard the springs groan as Duo settled his weight on the edge of the bed. Those huge violet globes flashed as Duo leaned forward and pressed cool metal to his right temple. "So are you going to tell me what's going on?"
-
THE END OF CHAPTER TWO
Next time: Duo's angry (don't worry it's not OOC). Heero explains some things and then does something that I won't say because it'll spoil the surprise. 1x2 and 3x4
Sorry if I confused u more. : ) Bye!!
Small note: I didn't realize it was so confusing; I'll try and clear it up as best I can in Chapter three. Chapter Two is all action.
Warnings: none really, violence, angst, language
Last time: Heero came back from a mission 24 hours late. Duo approached him and Heero said, "I don't need you," and aimed his gun at Duo
Cyberdistroyer - heh-eh, sorry, hopefully ill make it clearer later
Celestial moon-fox - oo thankyou!
Onee-sama - okies! Thanku so much for de encouragement
Poopies - hehe thanku but whats XD
Subzero12 - thanks so much I was so happy 2 get this one
Caska Almasy - thankyoou, sorry for the wait..
Ink2 - aw this is prolly gonna confuse u now
Patty40 - thankyouu I love long reviews! That is so encouraging
Lady Sallyrose - hehe u know i was actually thinking of doing that, but naw.
TenshiNoKoori - thanks so much, I luv it when ppl sound hyped about my story Nelia - ehhe, sorry hopefully ull understand at the end
Kanon*A - thanks! Oo I love it when ppl pinpoint sentences
-
CHAPTER TWO
"Why, Heero...?" Duo pleaded.
Quatre swayed on his feet as emotions swept over him.
His eyes slid to Heero, to that bland, vacant expression. It was just a mask. Just an emotional shield Heero had faceted to protect himself. Tears burned at Quatre's eyes and his lower lip quivered. He caught it between his teeth and then bit down hard, tasting the salty tang of blood as it flowed into his mouth.
He had to slip under Heero's defenses. He had to understand.
Quatre opened his heart to the room's swirling emotions. Suddenly, a mixture of anguish and desperation gushed under Quatre's skin so hard and so fast the ground rolled beneath him. He staggered and fastened his eyes on Heero's, knowing that what he'd felt had been only a taste of the raw emotion behind that cold, unnatural mask.
Moving with graceful indifference, Heero shifted his stance. There was something Quatre should remember about that stance, something very, very portentous. His face puckered as he watched Heero's strong, slender fingers flex around the handle of his shotgun.
He looked at Duo, and then slowly slid his eyes to the boy adjacent. Heero and Duo were watching each other, locked in a staring contest so intense that no one had noticed Heero's blood pouring all over the floor.
'I must kill him.'
Quatre shuddered.
When he opened eyes he hadn't realized he had closed, he blinked confoundedly. He looked at Heero again, at his gun, his face, his hands.
And then his chest tightened, making it difficult to breathe. 'He's going to kill him,' Quatre realized, his eyes growing huge with shock and horror. Swinging his gaze back to the braided boy, he felt a hand curl around his heart and squeeze painfully. No. He couldn't lose Duo, he couldn't... Quatre clenched his fists and felt a flash of pain when he clamped his teeth down on an already torn lip. He ignored it. Quatre had to do something about Duo, and he had to do it NOW. Before it was too late.
Heero's eyes narrowed, a telltale sign he was about to shoot.
'No!!!'
Adrenaline raced through Quatre's blood, giving him the speed that his body could not. Quick as lightning, he slammed into Duo's side and rammed the boy to the right of Heero's weapon. At the same time, Heero whispered, "Because I need you."
Bang!
For a moment Quatre thought the bullet had hit its target and Duo was dead. Then the bullet zipped past his ear, nicking his earlobe, and Quatre and Duo crashed to the floor in a tangle of limbs. There was a sharp cry from behind, but Quatre didn't have the time to wonder why he hadn't heard the impact of the bullet.
Heero was already poising to shoot again.
With a yelp Quatre shut his eyes and instinctively kicked out his legs, trying to sweep Heero's legs out from under him. Even injured, Heero still had the reflexes of a panther. He swiftly caught Quatre's left ankle and twisted violently, eliciting a sharp cry from the blonde's mouth. Helpless, Quatre watched in horror as Heero raised his handgun and aimed at Duo, who was still lying on the floor out cold.
Quatre tried to jerk out of Heero's hold and gasped as his grip constricted. "Heero wait! Why are you doing this!"
Heero ignored him. Quatre's heartbeat rose to a furious canter. He had to stop him. But how?
Turning to the one person he could always count on, Quatre called, "Trowa!"
Heero whipped his head around too late, just in time to meet Trowa's unyielding fist. A fierce uppercut caught Heero under the jaw and thrust him into the air, sending him sailing into the back wall. Heero crashed against it with bone-breaking force, smearing red all over the timber, and then sagged on the floor.
Quatre waited to see if Heero would get back up. He didn't.
Stunned silence drifted over the room.
Trembling, Quatre tore his eyes away from Heero and began shaking Duo by the shoulders, "Duo!" He cried shrilly. "Duo!"
Had the bullet hit him? Quatre's mind raced desperately as he tried to rouse Duo. Had Quatre been wrong? Was Duo now bleeding to death?
Pain throbbed in Quatre's ankle, but he paid it no heed. Trowa's attack hadn't given Heero time to loosen his fingers around Quatre's leg. Hence, his ankle had been wrenched right out of its socket when Heero had been flung into the air.
"Q-man...?" Duo muttered blearily; a furrow forming between his eyes.
"DUO!!!"
Duo bolted upright, "shit! What?" He said, alert.
Relief flooded Quatre's body as he blubbered, "You're alive!" and threw his arms around the braided boy's neck; catching him off guard and knocking Duo onto his back again.
"No shit?" Duo asked; a baffled grin on his face. He wrapped his arms around Quatre's waist in an answering hug, and squeezed tightly.
Looking Quatre over, Duo abruptly pushed the blonde back up and exclaimed, "Quat, you're bleeding!"
Quatre's eyes flew wide. "I am?" He asked, and saw splotches of crimson blooming on Duo's shirt. Mildly confused, he felt a tingle on his ear, where the bullet had scraped him. As soon as his mind registered the injury, it began to burn fiercely, "I am!" Quatre said in surprise.
The blonde looked at Duo's ruined clothes and crumpled, "Oh I'm so sorry, Duo. I ruined your shirt."
Duo frowned. "You what?" He saw Quatre looking crestfallenly down at his shirt. "What? No, it's just a shirt, Quat. Who cares? I've got like ten others exactly like it. Now tell me what happened? Where's Heero?"
Quatre opened his mouth to reply, when he sensed a presence beside him. Puzzled, Quatre swiveled around on his knees, and started when he faced a pair of familiar, slender legs. "Trowa!" He chirped in delight and recognition and pushed himself off the floor, leaning heavily on his right leg.
Placing two gentle hands on the taller boy's shoulders, Quatre righted himself and smiled sweetly. But Trowa simply stared at him with glazed, unfocused eyes.
"Trowa?" Quatre asked, uncertain, his brows knitting in concern.
Why was Trowa staring at him like that?
A wisp of fear slipped beneath Quatre's confidence and an icy finger whispered down his spine. "T-Trowa?" Quatre stammered.
The blonde could only stare in shock and horror as Trowa fell to his knees, and left a pool of crimson liquid dripping from Quatre's right hand. It dribbled between his fingers and ran down his arm, swelling vibrantly on the edge of his pale sleeve. "Blood?" Quatre whispered, a film of tears forming across his eyes. "Why is there blood...?"
He barely heard Duo and Wufei curse harshly behind him.
"Trowa!!!" Quatre wailed and dropped to his knees opposite him. He caught Trowa's torso before the boy could topple forward and pushed him back up. His eyes darted to Duo's ashen face, as he buckled beneath Trowa's weight, "Duo, help me!" Quatre cried.
Duo stammered, pointing. "B-but Heero..."
"Wufei will take care of him! Help me!"
Duo swiftly crouched behind Trowa and held him upright by sliding his arms under Trowa's. Seeing he was supported, Quatre gently pulled Trowa's bangs back from his eyes, fixing his gaze on those emerald eyes and blinking away his tears. "Trowa, stay awake," he told him brokenly. "Stay awake."
-
Trowa felt a soft, caressing hand sweep his hair back from his forehead, and he wished fervently that he could've been fully conscious to relish that sensation. Quatre's blurry, glowing face appeared in front of him. "Trowa, stay awake," the angel ordered, but his voice held a note of desperation.
Trowa's eyes flew to Quatre's foot. No wonder he was so distressed. His ankle had been dislocated.
"Stay awake," the broken voice said.
The corners of Trowa's vision were obscured and the thick blackness was closing in fast. He had to apologize, quickly before the shadows engulfed him. "Quat," Trowa struggled to say, but only a husky whisper drifted past his lips. "Your ankle..."
The angel's eyes were tear-bright. "No, it wasn't your fault!" Quatre blurted. He feigned a happy smile as his voice shook, "Who cares about my ankle, you're hurt."
He was always so kind, so forgiving. Trowa closed his eyes. He didn't deserve Quatre, it was better off this way. At least now he wouldn't hold Quatre back, in battle, or in love. The blonde could seek out new loves - real loves - instead of a charity case like Trowa.
"I'm sorry," Trowa said softly.
He let the darkness take him.
-
Heero woke in inky blackness, tied down spread-eagled to a single bed with thick leather belts. His eyes snapped open. He whipped his head to the side and analyzed a restraint. He could tear through it within an hour, if necessary, but his recent blood loss might slow him down.
Heero began calculating his means of escape, when he heard soft, familiar footfalls approaching the bed. He breathed in a controlled lungful of humid, suffocating air.
'He's alive!'
'He's alive!' Heero wanted to shout in triumph. The magnitude of relief that swamped Heero frightened him. He was the Perfect Soldier, he shouldn't feel so elated, so wonderfully uplifted that his target had survived.
Heero ruthlessly squashed the tide of joy that had risen within him before it surfaced in his eyes. He was an instrument, he must remember. Breathing shallowly, Heero wiped away the joyous expression that he was certain had been on his face only a few seconds ago. When his eyes reopened, the emotions had fled his hard face and that cold mask of vacancy had returned.
Duo was supposed to be dead. He was supposed to have died.
What had gone wrong? It had seemed simple when Heero had been planning it yesterday. After the episode with Oz, he had identified Duo as a weakness, as a chink in his armor. All Heero had to do was eliminate him, and he could go back to that cold semblance of existence he called life.
It had sounded easy.
Heero remembered how it had felt to pull the trigger on his handgun; how it had felt to destroy the only thing that gave him a reason to prevail, to live, the only one who made it bearable. Every fiber of his being had screamed at him to stop, needed him to stop, and because he'd wanted - no, needed - to save Duo, Heero had killed him.
Or tried to.
Heero's heart pulsed at a calm, even rate.
Duo was alive.
Heero let the implications of those three words sink in. What would Duo do now? Would he kill Heero? End it for him? For a fleeting moment, Heero allowed himself a flare of hope. How would it feel to close his eyes and know that living no longer mattered, that he could disappear, forget the cold and the emptiness, and the killing, and enter the gates of Hell that waited for him?
Reality was cruel.
As long as the war existed, Heero would exist.
Heero clawed with his fingers and toes for a sharp object that could slash his bindings, or maybe be flung at Duo in order to escape.
There was a soft click and the lights flickered on. Heero was momentarily blinded, and he hastily blinked to increase the speed of his pupils' adjustment to the harsh yellow light. His hands and feet relaxed back on the sheets, empty. Nothing here to ease his escape.
Heero stared down at his body impassively. It was strange seeing smooth, clean flesh. A night with OZ and he'd forgotten how he looked when he wasn't drenched in blood.
Duo emerged as if from thin air, grinning like the Cheshire cat, his face fluorescent under direct, streaming light. He had one hand on his hip and several bruises on the right side of his body. His braid rolled over one shoulder.
"Hey Hee-chan," Duo sang, "Remember this?"
All of a sudden, Duo whisked Heero's handgun out from behind his back, twirling it with the fingers of his right hand.
Heero's eyes hardened.
"That's right, Heero," Duo cooed, "I've got your bitch, and there's nothing you can do about it."
Heero heard the springs groan as Duo settled his weight on the edge of the bed. Those huge violet globes flashed as Duo leaned forward and pressed cool metal to his right temple. "So are you going to tell me what's going on?"
-
THE END OF CHAPTER TWO
Next time: Duo's angry (don't worry it's not OOC). Heero explains some things and then does something that I won't say because it'll spoil the surprise. 1x2 and 3x4
Sorry if I confused u more. : ) Bye!!