Chapter 2
Eight years had passed and Duo was now fifteen. Having been locked in a tower and not allowed haircuts, his hair had grown quite long. To keep it out of his way, Duo had looped his braid and fastened it with his black elastic.
[Duo: [sigh] This is so not manly. . .]
Since his hair was quite long, it was very difficult to wash. The tower bathroom only had a toilet and sink. He sponge-bathed a few times a week, but his hair. . . that was another matter entirely. He had to make a deal with Dorothy when the stench got so bad that poor Deathscythe couldn't keep anything down, much less those nasty herbs. She would make him a cake, and Duo would wash his hair. He timed it so that the cake deal was made sometime around his birthday.
Duo and Dorothy's relationship was strained, to say the least. He teased her, she insulted him. . . and that was about the extent to which their conversations went. Duo was dying for a someone else to talk to. Anyone. Suddenly he heard a noise from outside- a kind of squeaking. Was it another rat? The last one had left years ago when it finally realized it was going to receive nothing to eat but old corn. Its escape had been rather amusing- Duo threw it out the door window and it landed on Dorothy's dress's neckline. . .
When Duo looked out the window, he saw something black on the ground- it was a bird! He was a little surprised to see it. For as long as he had been in the tower, witch Dorothy's evil magic had kept all the friendly wildlife away.
"Ha!" Duo exclaimed, as he went to his paper plate and pinched a few of the last kernels of corn he just hadn't been able to force down. Then, he sprinkled a few of them down near the bird, who ate them hungrily. Once the crow realized where the snacks were coming from, it flew to the ledge. As it was about to take a bite, it stopped, wrinkled its beak a bit in disgust at the tower's stench and flew away.
"I never knew a bird could wrinkle its beak," Duo said to hide his hurt.
"I don't guess I'll ever get that chance again. I could have fastened a note to his leg to ask for help! Ah well, such is life."
Then, he heard a noise again. Could it be the bird had come back? When Duo looked to the ground, he saw a more purplish gray bird, which he lured to the ledge in the same way.
'Please, please, just hold your breath,' he asked silently. The bird -a pigeon- did not notice any smell. It was from New York City. It dug right in and ate all the corn.
"Well, bird!" Duo began. "Whaddaya say you me be friends?" As the bird appeared to have no objections, Duo spent the next few months training it to be a carrier pigeon, which was rather difficult as he had no one else to send it to.
Finally, the day came when Duo could do no more to train the pigeon- he would simply have to let if fly and see if it returned. He took out the piece of paper he had left in his pocket from all those years ago before he was captured, and the pen he had coerced Dorothy into giving him and then used against her.
***FLASHBACK***
[clicky, clicky, clicky]
"Does this annoy you, Dor?"
[clicky, clicky, clicky]
"Duo, just take the food! I have a life to live."
"No you don't."
"Rapunzel!!!" She screamed the nickname she had given Duo, which meant "God of Death" in OZian.
"I swear, you are going to be the death of me. . ."
"Will I get written credit?"
***END FLASHBACK***
Duo wrote his message as best he could. G had taught him to read and write, but Duo had not had the chance to fully master spelling.
"HELP," he spoke as he wrote. "I am trapped in a tower by Witch Dort, no, Dourt, that ain't it, either, Dorth, er, Dot. . ."
After completing the message and signing it "Rapunzel," Duo tied it to the bird's left leg. He then tied two Cinq dollars he had kept buried in his pocket to the bird's right leg.
"Now, don't loose that money!" Duo instructed the bird. "Or the note, for that matter! It's reeeally important, K?"
The bird cooed.
"That's a good bird, Heero! Now fly! Be free! Swim with the fishies! No wait, that's not a good one. . ."
Duo watched, his chin cradled in his hand, as the bird flew off over the thick blanket of hemlocks.
***
Things went back to normal around the tower as Duo waited for help. He played games (like see-how-far-you-can-push-Dorothy-until-she-looses-her- fake-composure) and thought a lot about the meaning of life to entertain himself; Dorothy brought him food, the consistency of which depended on her mood (the squishier, the worse the mood); they argued and yelled and screamed. . . Life was very boring with no friends and no pigeon.
"I'm going frickin' crazy holed up in this. . . hole! I hope someone gets that note," Duo mumbled to himself as he fell asleep to the sounds of Deathscythe's moaning.
Two days after sending the pigeon off, Duo was startled to hear a pebble bounce in thru the outside window.
"It's here! Help has arrived!" Duo said, trying to keep his voice to a whisper. He then remembered that Dorothy was spending the week in town, and decided to let loose.
"YAHOOOOOOOOO!" he cheered as he bounded towards the window. Suffering somewhat from malnutrition, Duo was still able to squeeze himself between the bars. When he looked down, he saw a handsome young man with windswept, chocolate locks sitting atop a full grown dragon.
"Steady now, Zero," the boy said soothingly to the beast, who ceased his snorting. It wouldn't do for him to catch the forest on fire. The boy would loose his job, and then where would he be?
"I'm so glad you've come!" Duo called.
"I imagined you would be," the boy called back up. The two stared at each other for a moment.
"So, how am I supposed to get up there?" the boy asked. "My dragon isn't tall enough to reach that high, and there's no way I could get close enough if he flew."
"Hmm. . ." Duo hmmed. "I forgot to write 'bring a ladder.' I suppose we could get to know each other while we try to think of something."
"Why?" the other boy asked.
"Geez, you're friendly! It's been two days since I've had a friend, and eight years since one of my friends has been human!"
The boy decided not to ask what that meant.
"Rats and pigeons are not great at conversing," Duo continued.
"I'd guess not."
There was a lull in the conversation, and the new arrival was feeling a little uncomfortable being stared at by the wide-eyed, long-haired boy that sat up on the window ledge, apparently unaware of the dangerous height.
He awkwardly asked,
"So, what's your name?"
"Well, it's Duo, but around these parts, I'm known as Rapunzel!" he announced with a little bit of pride.
"Rapunzel?" the boy asked. "That must be OZian. . ."
"Sure is! It means 'God of Death'!"
The boy acknowledged this piece of information with a barely audible
"Hn."
"So, what about you?" Duo asked.
"What about me?"
"Uh. . . you have a name, don't you?"
"Oh. It's Odin."
"Wow, I'm sorry. That's a really sucky name."
"Excuse me?"
"In OZian, Odin means smelly feet," Duo explained. "Well, that and genetically altered lost little boy, but."
Odin was giving Duo a strange look.
"Uh, nevermind. That probably doesn't apply, anyway. So, Odin," Duo began, but could not keep himself from cracking up. Odin waited patiently for the fit to pass.
"I can't call you that. It isn't going to work. Howzabout I call you. . . ah! Heero!"
Why 'Heero'?" Odin asked.
"Heero was the name of my homing pigeon- the one that sent the order and dough. He helped rescue me, just like you. So, you can be his namesake!"
"I've just been named after a pigeon," Odin mumbled.
"So, Heero," Duo began.
"I didn't accept your name," Odin called up the tower.
Duo looked a little hurt.
"Yeah, well. . . it's a good name, and Heero was a really good pigeon. Say, what happened to Heero?"
"Beats me. I just do my job."
"Oh. . . that's comforting. You could at least have made up a nice lie for me, like, he went to live in Central Park, or something."
Odin sighed.
"I think he went to live in Central Park."
Duo's eyes lit up.
"Really?"
"Sure."
"Aw, that's good to hear. So, can I call you Heero?" Odin decided their conversation would be more effective if he gave in. There was no way he'd complete this mission if that. . . Rapunzel person couldn't stop laughing.
"Okay."
"Great! So, you got any ideas?"
The boy shook his head.
"Ah, me neither."
After a moment of silence spent deep in thought, a rather obvious idea came to Odin, er, Heero.
"Hey, Rapunzel?"
"Hey, what?"
"Why don't you let down that long hair of yours? If I stand on Wing Zero's head, I can probably reach it and pull myself up to you."
Duo winced at the thought.
"Nah. It'd hurt way too much. Let's try to think of something else."
But, try as they might, they could not come up with another option. So, Duo carefully pulled out his black elastic and shook his braid loose. He rebraided the end and fastened it up tightly. Then, he coiled it up and just as he was about to let it down, Heero called from atop Wing Zero's scaly head,
"How am I going to pull myself up with out hurting you?"
"I don't think you can, but I'd like to avoid as much pain as possible. I was thinking I'd brace myself against the bars; you know, lie sideways so I won't fall out."
Heero considered the statistical possibilities of every outcome for a brief moment.
"Hope it works."
Duo then gingerly let his braid down to where Heero could reach it.
"Hey, Rapunzel? I've got plenty of slack here. Why don't you knot it around one of the bars?"
"Ha! Great idea, Heero buddy. Gimme it back!" So, Heero released the thick braid, and Duo pulled it all the way back up and followed Heero's advice.
Once the dangling plait was again within his reach, Heero took a firm hold on the slightly ratty braid and began to climb up the tower.
"Oh man. . ." Duo moaned. "I can definitely feel that. Be careful down there!"
"Did you think I wouldn't be?" Heero asked. Duo would have shrugged, but it was difficult for him to move.
When Heero finally reached the top after a long and arduous struggle, he gently unknotted Duo's braid. Duo fell in a heap on the floor and twitched a little.
He soon recovered, and hopped onto the ledge to envelop Heero in a bear hug.
"YOU DID IT, YOU DID IT!!!"
"Whew," Heero said. "This place smells. You smell."
"Well, it's not as if I can help it. I've been a prisoner here for eight very long years! I'd think you could sympathize," he said pathetically, turning his nose up in indignation.
"You couldn't have bathed during that time?"
"I did!"
"Not well."
"Do you see a shower? Or a bathtub? Or any means of effectively cleansing all of this?" Duo said, indicating his aching braid. Heero shook his head. Duo grinned.
"Good. 'Cuz then, you'd be hallucinating!" Heero had occasionally wondered what the psychological effects of imprisonment were. Now he knew.
"I don't think I can fit between these bars," Heero said.
"That's okay. You ain't missing much in here."
"Why don't you just take this and let me back down the same way," Heero suggested, handing a black and green backpack with the embroidered letters F-E-D-E-X on it to Duo, who plopped down on the stone floor and eagerly rooted thru it. He pulled out a small, brown paper package, which he quickly ripped into.
"Aah, my lock picks! I'm glad the money was enough."
"Actually, you still owe eighty Cinq dollars and fifty Cinq cents, plus four-fifty for shipping. And, er. . . a little extra for a tip, if you can."
"I'm glad I don't speak French," Duo muttered. "Then I might be really confused."
Duo continued to pull out his purchases- two dowel rods and a roll of duct tape.
"Yup, this oughta do it." Heero watched as Duo secured the two thin pieces of metal to the ends of the wooden rods.
"Blah, blah," Duo mumbled, flipping needlessly through a small instructional pamphlet from the lock pick box. He then tossed it aside, stuck his new contraptions thru the door window and found the lock with the L-shaped pick.
"Now, just a little pressure. . . not too much," he said for Heero's benefit.
"And this one goes in there, too," he said, running the rough-edged pick along in the top inside of the lock. He pulled it back and forth until the resistance against the L-shaped pick disappeared and it turned.
"Ha Ha!" Duo exclaimed. "Free at last! Free at last! Yesss!"
Heero could not help but smile at the other boy's joy.
Duo pulled the door open and gaped at the spiraling stone stairway. "I can just walk out," he marveled. "Well, I can once I let you back down, that is!"
Duo refastened himself to the bar and just as Heero was about to climb down, he asked
"About the money. . ."
"Yeah, I'll get it from downstairs and meet you out back." Heero nodded his approval, either forgetting or not caring that Duo did not have eyes in the back of his head.
***
Heero gazed up into the large, sad eyes before him. The dragon whimpered, asking to be set free. He understood what it felt like to be chained to one place- well, metaphorically speaking. His life was a dead-end street. He hated his job and his job was his life. If only he could take Wing Zero and leave- just fly away, soar aimlessly, with no one to restrict him. He would be completely free.
Well, not completely, he admitted to himself. He would have to find work elsewhere, but anything would be better if it were in a land not ruled by OZ. If such a place existed. Of course, with things going the way they were, there was no way he'd ever save up enough money to escape the rat race.
He reached up and petted the side of the dragon's nose.
"You'll be free soon," he assured the shiny beast. 'Unlike me. . .'
-cough-
Heero turned towards the sound. It had come from Duo, who was standing with one foot on top of the other and one hand scratching the back of his head.
"You shouldn't scratch."
"Huh? Oh. . . Right. Heh heh. Didn't even realize. . . But, uh, why?"
"It makes it worse."
"It makes what worse?"
Heero blinked.
"Whatever it is you're scratching."
Duo cocked his head to the side for a moment before he felt the blood rushing to his face.
"I do NOT have dandruff!" he barked.
Heero wished he hadn't said anything. Speaking always seemed to get him in trouble. And it wasn't as if he really cared about the condition of the strange, previously imprisoned boy's scalp.
Time to change the subject.
"Do you have the money?"
Duo unconsciously began rubbing the back of his head.
"Y'know, it's funny you should mention that, because I just got back from raiding Princess Nasty's safe, and it seems that the witch, er. . . tookallhermoneywithher," he said in a quiet rush.
Heero blinked twice.
"Yeah, it's kinda funny, right? I mean, she's got cash practically fallin' outta her ears." Duo began to laugh uneasily and realizing that he was once again scratching his head, jerked his hand away.
"I can't go back without a payment."
"What?" In his nervous state, Duo had not realized that Heero had spoken until he heard the unsettling term "payment."
"I said I can't leave without being paid."
"Oh. Yeah, I guess that makes sense. I suppose the good people at ACME Picks and Sticks would like to be compensated. . ."
"Not to mention my boss. . ." Heero almost cringed at the memory. But he didn't. He had gotten very good at not cringing.
"So, it wouldn't be enough if I just wrapped it back up and sent you home."
"No."
"Crud."
The wind howled through the dying leaves and Deathscythe joined in.
"Well, we can figure out what to do about the money later. Right now, there's something I've wanted to do for a looooong time," Duo said, reaching into his pocket for the largest lock picks.
As the padlock fell open for the first time in almost nine years, Heero could not help but feel a pang of jealousy. The black dragon reared up and shook himself- something he had needed to do for quite a while. Wing Zero tilted his head and his expression seemed to soften. He was obviously affected by the release of a fellow dragon.
"Hey, D-scythe! We're free! Yeah, you hear that? We're free! YAY!!!" Duo yelled up at the sleek creature, who responded by leaning down so Duo could scratch his neck as he had when they were smaller.
Heero almost did not want to interrupt the moment.
"So," he began.
"Right," Duo answered, still patting Deathscythe. "Well?"
"Don't look at me. I'm new here," Heero said.
Duo rolled his eyes.
"Does that mean you're stupid, too?" he rudely asked.
"Remember, I came up with the last idea," Heero said coldly.
"Oh yeah. I guess it's up to me then, huh?"
Wing Zero's shimmery red and white scales threw the weak sunlight against the side of the castle in hundreds of tiny spectrums as he made himself comfortable on the lawn.
"You might as well," Heero told his dragon. "This may take a while."
Eight years had passed and Duo was now fifteen. Having been locked in a tower and not allowed haircuts, his hair had grown quite long. To keep it out of his way, Duo had looped his braid and fastened it with his black elastic.
[Duo: [sigh] This is so not manly. . .]
Since his hair was quite long, it was very difficult to wash. The tower bathroom only had a toilet and sink. He sponge-bathed a few times a week, but his hair. . . that was another matter entirely. He had to make a deal with Dorothy when the stench got so bad that poor Deathscythe couldn't keep anything down, much less those nasty herbs. She would make him a cake, and Duo would wash his hair. He timed it so that the cake deal was made sometime around his birthday.
Duo and Dorothy's relationship was strained, to say the least. He teased her, she insulted him. . . and that was about the extent to which their conversations went. Duo was dying for a someone else to talk to. Anyone. Suddenly he heard a noise from outside- a kind of squeaking. Was it another rat? The last one had left years ago when it finally realized it was going to receive nothing to eat but old corn. Its escape had been rather amusing- Duo threw it out the door window and it landed on Dorothy's dress's neckline. . .
When Duo looked out the window, he saw something black on the ground- it was a bird! He was a little surprised to see it. For as long as he had been in the tower, witch Dorothy's evil magic had kept all the friendly wildlife away.
"Ha!" Duo exclaimed, as he went to his paper plate and pinched a few of the last kernels of corn he just hadn't been able to force down. Then, he sprinkled a few of them down near the bird, who ate them hungrily. Once the crow realized where the snacks were coming from, it flew to the ledge. As it was about to take a bite, it stopped, wrinkled its beak a bit in disgust at the tower's stench and flew away.
"I never knew a bird could wrinkle its beak," Duo said to hide his hurt.
"I don't guess I'll ever get that chance again. I could have fastened a note to his leg to ask for help! Ah well, such is life."
Then, he heard a noise again. Could it be the bird had come back? When Duo looked to the ground, he saw a more purplish gray bird, which he lured to the ledge in the same way.
'Please, please, just hold your breath,' he asked silently. The bird -a pigeon- did not notice any smell. It was from New York City. It dug right in and ate all the corn.
"Well, bird!" Duo began. "Whaddaya say you me be friends?" As the bird appeared to have no objections, Duo spent the next few months training it to be a carrier pigeon, which was rather difficult as he had no one else to send it to.
Finally, the day came when Duo could do no more to train the pigeon- he would simply have to let if fly and see if it returned. He took out the piece of paper he had left in his pocket from all those years ago before he was captured, and the pen he had coerced Dorothy into giving him and then used against her.
***FLASHBACK***
[clicky, clicky, clicky]
"Does this annoy you, Dor?"
[clicky, clicky, clicky]
"Duo, just take the food! I have a life to live."
"No you don't."
"Rapunzel!!!" She screamed the nickname she had given Duo, which meant "God of Death" in OZian.
"I swear, you are going to be the death of me. . ."
"Will I get written credit?"
***END FLASHBACK***
Duo wrote his message as best he could. G had taught him to read and write, but Duo had not had the chance to fully master spelling.
"HELP," he spoke as he wrote. "I am trapped in a tower by Witch Dort, no, Dourt, that ain't it, either, Dorth, er, Dot. . ."
After completing the message and signing it "Rapunzel," Duo tied it to the bird's left leg. He then tied two Cinq dollars he had kept buried in his pocket to the bird's right leg.
"Now, don't loose that money!" Duo instructed the bird. "Or the note, for that matter! It's reeeally important, K?"
The bird cooed.
"That's a good bird, Heero! Now fly! Be free! Swim with the fishies! No wait, that's not a good one. . ."
Duo watched, his chin cradled in his hand, as the bird flew off over the thick blanket of hemlocks.
***
Things went back to normal around the tower as Duo waited for help. He played games (like see-how-far-you-can-push-Dorothy-until-she-looses-her- fake-composure) and thought a lot about the meaning of life to entertain himself; Dorothy brought him food, the consistency of which depended on her mood (the squishier, the worse the mood); they argued and yelled and screamed. . . Life was very boring with no friends and no pigeon.
"I'm going frickin' crazy holed up in this. . . hole! I hope someone gets that note," Duo mumbled to himself as he fell asleep to the sounds of Deathscythe's moaning.
Two days after sending the pigeon off, Duo was startled to hear a pebble bounce in thru the outside window.
"It's here! Help has arrived!" Duo said, trying to keep his voice to a whisper. He then remembered that Dorothy was spending the week in town, and decided to let loose.
"YAHOOOOOOOOO!" he cheered as he bounded towards the window. Suffering somewhat from malnutrition, Duo was still able to squeeze himself between the bars. When he looked down, he saw a handsome young man with windswept, chocolate locks sitting atop a full grown dragon.
"Steady now, Zero," the boy said soothingly to the beast, who ceased his snorting. It wouldn't do for him to catch the forest on fire. The boy would loose his job, and then where would he be?
"I'm so glad you've come!" Duo called.
"I imagined you would be," the boy called back up. The two stared at each other for a moment.
"So, how am I supposed to get up there?" the boy asked. "My dragon isn't tall enough to reach that high, and there's no way I could get close enough if he flew."
"Hmm. . ." Duo hmmed. "I forgot to write 'bring a ladder.' I suppose we could get to know each other while we try to think of something."
"Why?" the other boy asked.
"Geez, you're friendly! It's been two days since I've had a friend, and eight years since one of my friends has been human!"
The boy decided not to ask what that meant.
"Rats and pigeons are not great at conversing," Duo continued.
"I'd guess not."
There was a lull in the conversation, and the new arrival was feeling a little uncomfortable being stared at by the wide-eyed, long-haired boy that sat up on the window ledge, apparently unaware of the dangerous height.
He awkwardly asked,
"So, what's your name?"
"Well, it's Duo, but around these parts, I'm known as Rapunzel!" he announced with a little bit of pride.
"Rapunzel?" the boy asked. "That must be OZian. . ."
"Sure is! It means 'God of Death'!"
The boy acknowledged this piece of information with a barely audible
"Hn."
"So, what about you?" Duo asked.
"What about me?"
"Uh. . . you have a name, don't you?"
"Oh. It's Odin."
"Wow, I'm sorry. That's a really sucky name."
"Excuse me?"
"In OZian, Odin means smelly feet," Duo explained. "Well, that and genetically altered lost little boy, but."
Odin was giving Duo a strange look.
"Uh, nevermind. That probably doesn't apply, anyway. So, Odin," Duo began, but could not keep himself from cracking up. Odin waited patiently for the fit to pass.
"I can't call you that. It isn't going to work. Howzabout I call you. . . ah! Heero!"
Why 'Heero'?" Odin asked.
"Heero was the name of my homing pigeon- the one that sent the order and dough. He helped rescue me, just like you. So, you can be his namesake!"
"I've just been named after a pigeon," Odin mumbled.
"So, Heero," Duo began.
"I didn't accept your name," Odin called up the tower.
Duo looked a little hurt.
"Yeah, well. . . it's a good name, and Heero was a really good pigeon. Say, what happened to Heero?"
"Beats me. I just do my job."
"Oh. . . that's comforting. You could at least have made up a nice lie for me, like, he went to live in Central Park, or something."
Odin sighed.
"I think he went to live in Central Park."
Duo's eyes lit up.
"Really?"
"Sure."
"Aw, that's good to hear. So, can I call you Heero?" Odin decided their conversation would be more effective if he gave in. There was no way he'd complete this mission if that. . . Rapunzel person couldn't stop laughing.
"Okay."
"Great! So, you got any ideas?"
The boy shook his head.
"Ah, me neither."
After a moment of silence spent deep in thought, a rather obvious idea came to Odin, er, Heero.
"Hey, Rapunzel?"
"Hey, what?"
"Why don't you let down that long hair of yours? If I stand on Wing Zero's head, I can probably reach it and pull myself up to you."
Duo winced at the thought.
"Nah. It'd hurt way too much. Let's try to think of something else."
But, try as they might, they could not come up with another option. So, Duo carefully pulled out his black elastic and shook his braid loose. He rebraided the end and fastened it up tightly. Then, he coiled it up and just as he was about to let it down, Heero called from atop Wing Zero's scaly head,
"How am I going to pull myself up with out hurting you?"
"I don't think you can, but I'd like to avoid as much pain as possible. I was thinking I'd brace myself against the bars; you know, lie sideways so I won't fall out."
Heero considered the statistical possibilities of every outcome for a brief moment.
"Hope it works."
Duo then gingerly let his braid down to where Heero could reach it.
"Hey, Rapunzel? I've got plenty of slack here. Why don't you knot it around one of the bars?"
"Ha! Great idea, Heero buddy. Gimme it back!" So, Heero released the thick braid, and Duo pulled it all the way back up and followed Heero's advice.
Once the dangling plait was again within his reach, Heero took a firm hold on the slightly ratty braid and began to climb up the tower.
"Oh man. . ." Duo moaned. "I can definitely feel that. Be careful down there!"
"Did you think I wouldn't be?" Heero asked. Duo would have shrugged, but it was difficult for him to move.
When Heero finally reached the top after a long and arduous struggle, he gently unknotted Duo's braid. Duo fell in a heap on the floor and twitched a little.
He soon recovered, and hopped onto the ledge to envelop Heero in a bear hug.
"YOU DID IT, YOU DID IT!!!"
"Whew," Heero said. "This place smells. You smell."
"Well, it's not as if I can help it. I've been a prisoner here for eight very long years! I'd think you could sympathize," he said pathetically, turning his nose up in indignation.
"You couldn't have bathed during that time?"
"I did!"
"Not well."
"Do you see a shower? Or a bathtub? Or any means of effectively cleansing all of this?" Duo said, indicating his aching braid. Heero shook his head. Duo grinned.
"Good. 'Cuz then, you'd be hallucinating!" Heero had occasionally wondered what the psychological effects of imprisonment were. Now he knew.
"I don't think I can fit between these bars," Heero said.
"That's okay. You ain't missing much in here."
"Why don't you just take this and let me back down the same way," Heero suggested, handing a black and green backpack with the embroidered letters F-E-D-E-X on it to Duo, who plopped down on the stone floor and eagerly rooted thru it. He pulled out a small, brown paper package, which he quickly ripped into.
"Aah, my lock picks! I'm glad the money was enough."
"Actually, you still owe eighty Cinq dollars and fifty Cinq cents, plus four-fifty for shipping. And, er. . . a little extra for a tip, if you can."
"I'm glad I don't speak French," Duo muttered. "Then I might be really confused."
Duo continued to pull out his purchases- two dowel rods and a roll of duct tape.
"Yup, this oughta do it." Heero watched as Duo secured the two thin pieces of metal to the ends of the wooden rods.
"Blah, blah," Duo mumbled, flipping needlessly through a small instructional pamphlet from the lock pick box. He then tossed it aside, stuck his new contraptions thru the door window and found the lock with the L-shaped pick.
"Now, just a little pressure. . . not too much," he said for Heero's benefit.
"And this one goes in there, too," he said, running the rough-edged pick along in the top inside of the lock. He pulled it back and forth until the resistance against the L-shaped pick disappeared and it turned.
"Ha Ha!" Duo exclaimed. "Free at last! Free at last! Yesss!"
Heero could not help but smile at the other boy's joy.
Duo pulled the door open and gaped at the spiraling stone stairway. "I can just walk out," he marveled. "Well, I can once I let you back down, that is!"
Duo refastened himself to the bar and just as Heero was about to climb down, he asked
"About the money. . ."
"Yeah, I'll get it from downstairs and meet you out back." Heero nodded his approval, either forgetting or not caring that Duo did not have eyes in the back of his head.
***
Heero gazed up into the large, sad eyes before him. The dragon whimpered, asking to be set free. He understood what it felt like to be chained to one place- well, metaphorically speaking. His life was a dead-end street. He hated his job and his job was his life. If only he could take Wing Zero and leave- just fly away, soar aimlessly, with no one to restrict him. He would be completely free.
Well, not completely, he admitted to himself. He would have to find work elsewhere, but anything would be better if it were in a land not ruled by OZ. If such a place existed. Of course, with things going the way they were, there was no way he'd ever save up enough money to escape the rat race.
He reached up and petted the side of the dragon's nose.
"You'll be free soon," he assured the shiny beast. 'Unlike me. . .'
-cough-
Heero turned towards the sound. It had come from Duo, who was standing with one foot on top of the other and one hand scratching the back of his head.
"You shouldn't scratch."
"Huh? Oh. . . Right. Heh heh. Didn't even realize. . . But, uh, why?"
"It makes it worse."
"It makes what worse?"
Heero blinked.
"Whatever it is you're scratching."
Duo cocked his head to the side for a moment before he felt the blood rushing to his face.
"I do NOT have dandruff!" he barked.
Heero wished he hadn't said anything. Speaking always seemed to get him in trouble. And it wasn't as if he really cared about the condition of the strange, previously imprisoned boy's scalp.
Time to change the subject.
"Do you have the money?"
Duo unconsciously began rubbing the back of his head.
"Y'know, it's funny you should mention that, because I just got back from raiding Princess Nasty's safe, and it seems that the witch, er. . . tookallhermoneywithher," he said in a quiet rush.
Heero blinked twice.
"Yeah, it's kinda funny, right? I mean, she's got cash practically fallin' outta her ears." Duo began to laugh uneasily and realizing that he was once again scratching his head, jerked his hand away.
"I can't go back without a payment."
"What?" In his nervous state, Duo had not realized that Heero had spoken until he heard the unsettling term "payment."
"I said I can't leave without being paid."
"Oh. Yeah, I guess that makes sense. I suppose the good people at ACME Picks and Sticks would like to be compensated. . ."
"Not to mention my boss. . ." Heero almost cringed at the memory. But he didn't. He had gotten very good at not cringing.
"So, it wouldn't be enough if I just wrapped it back up and sent you home."
"No."
"Crud."
The wind howled through the dying leaves and Deathscythe joined in.
"Well, we can figure out what to do about the money later. Right now, there's something I've wanted to do for a looooong time," Duo said, reaching into his pocket for the largest lock picks.
As the padlock fell open for the first time in almost nine years, Heero could not help but feel a pang of jealousy. The black dragon reared up and shook himself- something he had needed to do for quite a while. Wing Zero tilted his head and his expression seemed to soften. He was obviously affected by the release of a fellow dragon.
"Hey, D-scythe! We're free! Yeah, you hear that? We're free! YAY!!!" Duo yelled up at the sleek creature, who responded by leaning down so Duo could scratch his neck as he had when they were smaller.
Heero almost did not want to interrupt the moment.
"So," he began.
"Right," Duo answered, still patting Deathscythe. "Well?"
"Don't look at me. I'm new here," Heero said.
Duo rolled his eyes.
"Does that mean you're stupid, too?" he rudely asked.
"Remember, I came up with the last idea," Heero said coldly.
"Oh yeah. I guess it's up to me then, huh?"
Wing Zero's shimmery red and white scales threw the weak sunlight against the side of the castle in hundreds of tiny spectrums as he made himself comfortable on the lawn.
"You might as well," Heero told his dragon. "This may take a while."