Title: Dark Memories
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Drama/Romance, a lot of action, some humor 'cause of Duo
Pairings: Trowa/Duo, Wufei/Heero, Zechs/Quatre, Treize/Solo (3x2, 5x1, 6x4, 13xSolo)
Summary: Tragedy follows a thief named Duo wherever he goes. When he loses his memory, he gets a new chance. But not without a price. Darkness shadows his steps. Can he save his new friends without hurting them too? 3x2
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~~Who Am I?~~
"You stupid BITCH!" A slender fifteen-year-old ran as fast as he could. His amethyst eyes were wide, and so playful. But fear was mixed in so heavily that you could hardly tell which was which. A long chestnut braid flew after him, bouncing as he ran. His black clothing was in tatters, a priest's collar around his neck. Yet he was as far as you could get from a priest.
"Try an' catch me, Morty-kins!" he yelled, sticking his tongue out. He darted farther away, running faster than he ever had before. The heavy-set blonde man behind him grew angrier. The anger fed into his stride, which lengthened and grew.
"YOU OWE ME! Time to pay your part."
Duo turned into an alley, but the only thing around him was trashcans. A wall was in front of him, stained brick. Slowly, he turned to face Morty. Fear so evident in his eyes that no one could mistake it. The blonde glared and his meaty fist swung. Duo's reflexes saved him from his head rolling off his neck, but he caught the blow on the side of his head. Dazed, everything blurry, he couldn't dodge as a second fist in his stomach threw him back. He was slammed into the wall. A large hand twisted his arm behind his back, and he was knocked against the wall. Blood tricked down the side of his head and from his forehead. The force of the punch to his stomach had also opened a wound.
"Partial payback, twit," the man whispered in his ear. Flicking out a knife, he stabbed deep into Duo's back. The thief couldn't help but scream as it tore into him, burning him with a pain so intense. His violet eyes clouded over and he fell into darkness. Mortimer d'Roni smirked and pushed him away. The knife clattered beside him, hilt silver and shaped like a phoenix with folded wings.
Target unconcious, he smiled sadistically a final time and left. Duo was left in the alleyway, braid filthy and clothing bloodied and in tatters.
~~~~~~~
A brunette walked down an alley, trying to find the place he was supposed to meet his friend at. His light golden-brown hair swept over one of his impossibly emerald eyes. Those eyes glinted with ironic humor, yet showed a devastating amount of loneliness.
The colorless gray buildings were just blurs to him. They were non- descript and dirty, completely featureless. Trash cans were littered in the strangest places, overflowing with garbage and filth. He looked over it distastefully. It reminded him too well of when times had been hard. He had often had to sleep in places like this, except perhaps buildings. He let himself check over everything, seeing where it all was. How it was all affected. He stopped suddenly, feeling shock race through him.
Crumpled by the wall in front of him was a lean teenager. Slightly tanned skin peeked out of the ragged black clothing, and a messy braid was swung over his side. Blood was pooled on the ground next to him.
'I shouldn't...' he thought, even as he made his way to the figure. 'I should just meet Heero like I'm supposed to.'
But he couldn't help himself as he saw the helpless position this unknown person was in. He was just so frail at the moment, so... like he used to be.
In a quick accessment, he could tell that whoever this was had a knife wound in the back and a major head wound. With a sigh for getting himself involved with a stray again, he got his cell phone out of his pocket. It was just that his strays were usually animals. Except with two of his friends, of course.
"Quatre," he said just as soon as the phone picked up. "I need your doctors down here, now. No, it's not me." He spared a glance towards his stray. "I don't know who it is."
"They'll be there, Trowa," his best friend promised, sweet tones worried. "Just tell me where it is."
Giving quick directions, the teenager pressed the off button. A glint of silver on the ground next to the hurt stray caught his eye. Picking it up, his eyes were drawn to the silver phoenix.
~~~~~~~
Long brown eyelashes fluttered slightly. But then awareness suddenly kicked into the sleeping body. He was on his back. He NEVER laid on his back. The back of his head hurt, his temples hurt, and he felt a searing pain in the middle of his back. He froze.
"Glad to see you're up," someone remarked casually. Just as casually, the boy opened his eyes. Trowa, who was beside him, gasped slightly. Violet pools so light a color, so deep a color. Bottomless and swirled with guarded emotions.
"Who are ya?" the boy asked suspiciously. An elegant eyebrow raised, the one not hidden by his bangs. "I should be asking you that." The teenager looked serious for a moment, trying so hard to...
His eyes widened. "WHO THE FUCK AM I?" He felt panic down to his core, shuddering with shock. With every movement, the pain in his back grew. Trowa winced, brushing his hair away so he could see better.
"I guess you don't remember," he said, tones slightly wry, trying to calm the thief down. The boy grinned slightly at the tone of voice, but still had his eyes as wide open as they could go. Carefully, he sat up and looked around. He was in a luxurious room, simple yet expensive. The walls were painted a soft cream, and the floor was chestnut. Matching furniture was in it, and the bed that he was in was large and soft enough to dream about. White sheets covered it, making it a cloud-like wonderland. If only this didn't seem like a nightmare...
His mind began to work slowly as he tried to take in the facts.
"OK. I'm in some strange house, I have no clue who I am, I hurt like fucking hell, and I have some gorgeous brunette next to me." With the last, he did a double-take, then grinned.
"Err, sorry 'bout that last one."
The emerald-eyed one shook his head and stayed silent. The other boy's reactions to things showed a lot. For one, he was hiding his feelings of confusion out in the open. It was very deceptive and clever. He knew instictively not to move because of his wound and was being careful. He also spoke with a slight slang, and was swearing quite a bit. Another observation was that the teen was either gay or bi, but that didn't matter in the slightest... right?
"I'm Trowa Barton," he said evenly. "You're in my friend Quatre Raberba Winner's house. I found you beaten up in an alley with a knife wound, and brought you here. Quatre had his team of doctors look after you."
The boy shook his head.
"You've gotta be shittin' me! A whole team of doctors, just for one guy? Weird. And what kinda name is "four" anyway?"
The elegant teenager shrugged and leaned back into his chair. Flare- legged black jeans clung to his hips, and a simple black turtleneck covered the rest.
"Quatre is very rich, I suppose. I guess that shows you know French, though. I don't suppose you can remember your name?"
Like Trowa, the boy leaned back against his pillows, though more carefully. He knew quite instictively that he had never seen, never been, inside a place like this. In a reflexive gesture, he reached to the side to tickle his palm with the end of his braid. His eyes closed once more as he though, searching the darkness of his mind. In it he found only pain wherever he tried to look.
"HOLY SHIT!" he cried out, placing a hand to the side of his head. "That hurts like a bitch." Trowa felt that he was raising his eyebrow more than he ever had in his life. This boy was very different from anyone he had ever met, and he had met many strange people.
"Really?" he said with seeming disinterest. Really, he found the street rat amusing. He was sort of graceful in a bumbling way, funny and with a thoughtless defensiveness.
"Hey!" the boy began, glaring. "I may run and hide, but I never tell a lie. That's Duo Maxwell for you." Both he and Trowa blinked several times before he smacked himself on the forehead.
"Duh! Like I didn't see that before. Sorry, man." He grinned again, elven face lighting up. "M'name's Duo Maxwell. Don't ask me where the name came from, though. Dunno."
The door creaked open, and Duo was instantly on the alert. Curling up slightly, he reached towards a knife in his ankle sheath.
"He's finally awake?" a gentle voice asked. The thief blinked and let go of his dagger. The blonde had entered the room quietly, shutting the door behind him.
"Hell yeah," Duo answered, rolling his eyes without too much vigor. The kid was just too cute, and he was tired. "Though don't ask me who I am, 'cause I don't know. Maybe ya'd like an update. I only know that I'm in a strange house, my name's Duo Maxwell, I run and hide but I never tell a lie, my back hurts like hell, a gorgeous guy named Tro-Tro is beside me, and that I'm guessin' you're Quatre Raberba Winner."
The kawaii blonde smiled sweetly, aquamarine eyes lighting up with amusement and worry at the same time.
"You'd be right, Duo. The doctors said you might not remember much, but I had hoped that they were wrong. You seem to be in tune with that fact."
Duo shrugged. His violet eyes darkened, but he still smirked.
"Fatalist. I will have my own little freak out in private, though. Maybe. Don't suppose those doctors know when this knife wound'll stop hurtin'. Doctors usually don't know nothin'. But if you have got a whole team of 'em, I bet you know that already, Quat."
"A week," Quatre stated, eyes playfully daring a contradiction. Like his friend, he found the street rat both friendly and funny. "You also might like to know you've slept for three days."
"SCORE!"
"Though now, you can get out of bed."
"Shit."
"Just a few days, and you will be healed. Four at the least, now. Since Trowa decided to adopt yet another stray, perhaps you would like a tour of the mansion?"
Quatre looked so hopeful that Duo dared not say no. Sighing, he said "Just get me some clothes, I guess." Trowa strode over to the closet silently and flung open the doors. It looked like the room inside was bigger than the room they were all in. Amethyst eyes widened.
"Any preference?" Trowa said with slight sarcasm. "Black," Duo replied instantly. As the Bang Boy stepped into the closet/room to get lost (literally), Quat looked at the stray boy innocently.
"Why do you want black automatically?" The braided teenager sighed and sank back down into the bed. His braid seemed heavy around his shoulders, murky orbs filled with secrets that even he didn't know anymore.
"The God of Death have to fit the part, Quat," he stated grimly. "Wearing different doesn't change a devil into an angel. Masking it will only make it worse." He didn't bother to ponder his own statement, but Quatre did. Suddenly, he felt like they had bitten off more than they could chew.
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Cherry- Review. Chapter soon, got it done already. Expect it within a week or four days, depending. *bows* Cherry Necromancer, signing out.
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Drama/Romance, a lot of action, some humor 'cause of Duo
Pairings: Trowa/Duo, Wufei/Heero, Zechs/Quatre, Treize/Solo (3x2, 5x1, 6x4, 13xSolo)
Summary: Tragedy follows a thief named Duo wherever he goes. When he loses his memory, he gets a new chance. But not without a price. Darkness shadows his steps. Can he save his new friends without hurting them too? 3x2
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------
~~Who Am I?~~
"You stupid BITCH!" A slender fifteen-year-old ran as fast as he could. His amethyst eyes were wide, and so playful. But fear was mixed in so heavily that you could hardly tell which was which. A long chestnut braid flew after him, bouncing as he ran. His black clothing was in tatters, a priest's collar around his neck. Yet he was as far as you could get from a priest.
"Try an' catch me, Morty-kins!" he yelled, sticking his tongue out. He darted farther away, running faster than he ever had before. The heavy-set blonde man behind him grew angrier. The anger fed into his stride, which lengthened and grew.
"YOU OWE ME! Time to pay your part."
Duo turned into an alley, but the only thing around him was trashcans. A wall was in front of him, stained brick. Slowly, he turned to face Morty. Fear so evident in his eyes that no one could mistake it. The blonde glared and his meaty fist swung. Duo's reflexes saved him from his head rolling off his neck, but he caught the blow on the side of his head. Dazed, everything blurry, he couldn't dodge as a second fist in his stomach threw him back. He was slammed into the wall. A large hand twisted his arm behind his back, and he was knocked against the wall. Blood tricked down the side of his head and from his forehead. The force of the punch to his stomach had also opened a wound.
"Partial payback, twit," the man whispered in his ear. Flicking out a knife, he stabbed deep into Duo's back. The thief couldn't help but scream as it tore into him, burning him with a pain so intense. His violet eyes clouded over and he fell into darkness. Mortimer d'Roni smirked and pushed him away. The knife clattered beside him, hilt silver and shaped like a phoenix with folded wings.
Target unconcious, he smiled sadistically a final time and left. Duo was left in the alleyway, braid filthy and clothing bloodied and in tatters.
~~~~~~~
A brunette walked down an alley, trying to find the place he was supposed to meet his friend at. His light golden-brown hair swept over one of his impossibly emerald eyes. Those eyes glinted with ironic humor, yet showed a devastating amount of loneliness.
The colorless gray buildings were just blurs to him. They were non- descript and dirty, completely featureless. Trash cans were littered in the strangest places, overflowing with garbage and filth. He looked over it distastefully. It reminded him too well of when times had been hard. He had often had to sleep in places like this, except perhaps buildings. He let himself check over everything, seeing where it all was. How it was all affected. He stopped suddenly, feeling shock race through him.
Crumpled by the wall in front of him was a lean teenager. Slightly tanned skin peeked out of the ragged black clothing, and a messy braid was swung over his side. Blood was pooled on the ground next to him.
'I shouldn't...' he thought, even as he made his way to the figure. 'I should just meet Heero like I'm supposed to.'
But he couldn't help himself as he saw the helpless position this unknown person was in. He was just so frail at the moment, so... like he used to be.
In a quick accessment, he could tell that whoever this was had a knife wound in the back and a major head wound. With a sigh for getting himself involved with a stray again, he got his cell phone out of his pocket. It was just that his strays were usually animals. Except with two of his friends, of course.
"Quatre," he said just as soon as the phone picked up. "I need your doctors down here, now. No, it's not me." He spared a glance towards his stray. "I don't know who it is."
"They'll be there, Trowa," his best friend promised, sweet tones worried. "Just tell me where it is."
Giving quick directions, the teenager pressed the off button. A glint of silver on the ground next to the hurt stray caught his eye. Picking it up, his eyes were drawn to the silver phoenix.
~~~~~~~
Long brown eyelashes fluttered slightly. But then awareness suddenly kicked into the sleeping body. He was on his back. He NEVER laid on his back. The back of his head hurt, his temples hurt, and he felt a searing pain in the middle of his back. He froze.
"Glad to see you're up," someone remarked casually. Just as casually, the boy opened his eyes. Trowa, who was beside him, gasped slightly. Violet pools so light a color, so deep a color. Bottomless and swirled with guarded emotions.
"Who are ya?" the boy asked suspiciously. An elegant eyebrow raised, the one not hidden by his bangs. "I should be asking you that." The teenager looked serious for a moment, trying so hard to...
His eyes widened. "WHO THE FUCK AM I?" He felt panic down to his core, shuddering with shock. With every movement, the pain in his back grew. Trowa winced, brushing his hair away so he could see better.
"I guess you don't remember," he said, tones slightly wry, trying to calm the thief down. The boy grinned slightly at the tone of voice, but still had his eyes as wide open as they could go. Carefully, he sat up and looked around. He was in a luxurious room, simple yet expensive. The walls were painted a soft cream, and the floor was chestnut. Matching furniture was in it, and the bed that he was in was large and soft enough to dream about. White sheets covered it, making it a cloud-like wonderland. If only this didn't seem like a nightmare...
His mind began to work slowly as he tried to take in the facts.
"OK. I'm in some strange house, I have no clue who I am, I hurt like fucking hell, and I have some gorgeous brunette next to me." With the last, he did a double-take, then grinned.
"Err, sorry 'bout that last one."
The emerald-eyed one shook his head and stayed silent. The other boy's reactions to things showed a lot. For one, he was hiding his feelings of confusion out in the open. It was very deceptive and clever. He knew instictively not to move because of his wound and was being careful. He also spoke with a slight slang, and was swearing quite a bit. Another observation was that the teen was either gay or bi, but that didn't matter in the slightest... right?
"I'm Trowa Barton," he said evenly. "You're in my friend Quatre Raberba Winner's house. I found you beaten up in an alley with a knife wound, and brought you here. Quatre had his team of doctors look after you."
The boy shook his head.
"You've gotta be shittin' me! A whole team of doctors, just for one guy? Weird. And what kinda name is "four" anyway?"
The elegant teenager shrugged and leaned back into his chair. Flare- legged black jeans clung to his hips, and a simple black turtleneck covered the rest.
"Quatre is very rich, I suppose. I guess that shows you know French, though. I don't suppose you can remember your name?"
Like Trowa, the boy leaned back against his pillows, though more carefully. He knew quite instictively that he had never seen, never been, inside a place like this. In a reflexive gesture, he reached to the side to tickle his palm with the end of his braid. His eyes closed once more as he though, searching the darkness of his mind. In it he found only pain wherever he tried to look.
"HOLY SHIT!" he cried out, placing a hand to the side of his head. "That hurts like a bitch." Trowa felt that he was raising his eyebrow more than he ever had in his life. This boy was very different from anyone he had ever met, and he had met many strange people.
"Really?" he said with seeming disinterest. Really, he found the street rat amusing. He was sort of graceful in a bumbling way, funny and with a thoughtless defensiveness.
"Hey!" the boy began, glaring. "I may run and hide, but I never tell a lie. That's Duo Maxwell for you." Both he and Trowa blinked several times before he smacked himself on the forehead.
"Duh! Like I didn't see that before. Sorry, man." He grinned again, elven face lighting up. "M'name's Duo Maxwell. Don't ask me where the name came from, though. Dunno."
The door creaked open, and Duo was instantly on the alert. Curling up slightly, he reached towards a knife in his ankle sheath.
"He's finally awake?" a gentle voice asked. The thief blinked and let go of his dagger. The blonde had entered the room quietly, shutting the door behind him.
"Hell yeah," Duo answered, rolling his eyes without too much vigor. The kid was just too cute, and he was tired. "Though don't ask me who I am, 'cause I don't know. Maybe ya'd like an update. I only know that I'm in a strange house, my name's Duo Maxwell, I run and hide but I never tell a lie, my back hurts like hell, a gorgeous guy named Tro-Tro is beside me, and that I'm guessin' you're Quatre Raberba Winner."
The kawaii blonde smiled sweetly, aquamarine eyes lighting up with amusement and worry at the same time.
"You'd be right, Duo. The doctors said you might not remember much, but I had hoped that they were wrong. You seem to be in tune with that fact."
Duo shrugged. His violet eyes darkened, but he still smirked.
"Fatalist. I will have my own little freak out in private, though. Maybe. Don't suppose those doctors know when this knife wound'll stop hurtin'. Doctors usually don't know nothin'. But if you have got a whole team of 'em, I bet you know that already, Quat."
"A week," Quatre stated, eyes playfully daring a contradiction. Like his friend, he found the street rat both friendly and funny. "You also might like to know you've slept for three days."
"SCORE!"
"Though now, you can get out of bed."
"Shit."
"Just a few days, and you will be healed. Four at the least, now. Since Trowa decided to adopt yet another stray, perhaps you would like a tour of the mansion?"
Quatre looked so hopeful that Duo dared not say no. Sighing, he said "Just get me some clothes, I guess." Trowa strode over to the closet silently and flung open the doors. It looked like the room inside was bigger than the room they were all in. Amethyst eyes widened.
"Any preference?" Trowa said with slight sarcasm. "Black," Duo replied instantly. As the Bang Boy stepped into the closet/room to get lost (literally), Quat looked at the stray boy innocently.
"Why do you want black automatically?" The braided teenager sighed and sank back down into the bed. His braid seemed heavy around his shoulders, murky orbs filled with secrets that even he didn't know anymore.
"The God of Death have to fit the part, Quat," he stated grimly. "Wearing different doesn't change a devil into an angel. Masking it will only make it worse." He didn't bother to ponder his own statement, but Quatre did. Suddenly, he felt like they had bitten off more than they could chew.
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Cherry- Review. Chapter soon, got it done already. Expect it within a week or four days, depending. *bows* Cherry Necromancer, signing out.