Notes: Remember, visit my LJ if you have a question/comment about this or any of my other fics, I'm very friendly and will be sure to reply. Also, huge SQUICK WARNING for this chapter. I don't want to give away the details, but if you have a weak stomach, you might not want to read this chapter. Enjoy and review!

Chapter Eight

It took a little pleading/whining, but eventually Heero decided to stop drinking and come home. He was silent during the drive, and for once I didn't feel much like talking. My mind was racing, trying to figure out just who could be doing this to Heero, to us. Heero's confession haunted my mind, my overactive imagination supplying me with an endless stream of images-Heero working on the rock, Heero holding the flowers, Heero cutting his hand, Heero dripping his blood onto the flowers, Heero realising that he wasn't forgiven.

A warm pressure on my free hand jerked me out of my thoughts, and I looked down to see Heero's large hand covering mine. I smiled, and rotated my wrist so that I could hold his hand. We still didn't speak , but the silence wasn't as tense as it had been.

I parked the car in the driveway, and fished my keys out of my pocket, frowning when I failed to locate them amongst the candy wrappers, cinema tickets, and general pieces of crap that I kept in my pockets. My questing fingers eventually located the cool metal of my keys and I grinned triumphantly, raising my eyes. I froze, hand halfway to the lock, staring in shock at the door.

Photos had been stuck to the whole of the door, high-end, glossy photos; surveillance photos. Of us. most Heero, but my and Wufei to. Heero sipping coffee, Heero and Wufei sparring in our gym, all of us in bed, Heero and me watching TV, Heero cooking dinner, Wufei and me watching Heero workout, there was even one of someone in the shower, but the steam made it hard to tell whether it was Heero or Wufei.

There had to be dozens of them, maybe something close to a hundred, I couldn't tell because they often overlapped, and I caught glimpses of photos completely hidden when a breeze made them move slightly. At the very centre of the door, was a small slip of paper, with three simple words typed on it: I am lost.

I swallowed thickly, and finally managed to tear my eyes away from the door to look at Heero. He was still staring at the shock, and his breath was coming in short gasps, as if he was about to hyperventilate. I knew Heero had a thing about privacy and being watched, but the reaction was a bit extreme and I didn't understand it.

Old instincts kicked in, and I drew my gun as I scanned the area intently. The fact that Heero didn't copy me scared me a little, and I moved so that I was shielding him from sight. That is, if whoever this person was wasn't in the house. This is why I liked working with Heero and Wufei-we could cover all corners; by myself, I was always open to attack from at least one side.

"Heero, get in the house and secure it," I said quietly, forcefully, and gave him a little kick in the calf. It was enough to snap him out of his daze, and he drew his own gun, holding it by his side as he unlocked the door. I waited patiently, all my senses open to everything around me, but when five minutes past and I didn't hear an all-clear or alarm, I began to worry that something had happened. I glanced into the house, and caught a glimpse of Heero standing in the living room. I frowned when I saw that he was holding his gun at his side, his fingers barely gripping it.

"Heero, status!" I called, my eyes going back to the trees surrounding us. I hadn't seen anything human-shaped, or heard anything for that matter, but I was not taking any chances. Heero didn't respond, and I cursed, torn between securing the perimeter and finding out what was wrong with him. The logical half of my mind told me that if Heero wasn't answering, the danger was inside. I decided to listen to the voice and stepped into the house, closing but not locking the door behind me.

When I stepped into the living room, I found out why Heero had frozen. I stared in horror at what lay on the carpet, and realised that our problems had just got a hell of a lot worse.

It was a small thing, barely a few weeks old. Its fur had been a sandy shade, soft and short, but now it was matted with drying blood. Its warm brown eyes were staring up at me sightlessly, pleading and accusing. Deep gashes ran along its legs, back and neck, deep enough in places to show glimpses of bone, but that hadn't been what killed it. Its stomach had been torn open, spilling the intestines and inner organs onto the floor in a wash of blood and gore. The stench of death hung thickly in the air, that horrid mixture of bowels and blood. I gagged and covered my mouth with my spare hand, not able to tear my eyes away from the mutilated puppy that lay on the carpet.

I don't know for how long we stood there staring with sick fascination at the macabre gift, it could have been a minute or an hour. Eventually, I was able to drag my eyes away from the grotesque sight and looked at Heero. He'd gone pale, and his hands were starting to shake. Just like with the photos, this reaction was extreme and completely unexpected. I was starting to think that Heero was seeing more in these gifts than I was.

I reached out to touch his arm, and he jerked his head around to look at me. His eyes were wild, with no hint of calm or even sanity. I immediately let go of his arm and took a step back. I tightened my grip on my gun, but knew that I'd never be able to raise it, aim, and shoot, before he either dodged, or shot me first. The fact that Heero was my lover and one of the two people closest to my heart was irrelevant, he was a faster, better shot than me, and if I didn't remember that, then I was most likely dead.

Heero blinked, and I watched as he seemed to remember who I was and who he was. Sanity seeped back into his eyes, quickly followed by something that looked an awful lot like despair. He let his gun slip from his fingers to fall to the floor, and then ran out of the room. I heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs and then go into the bedroom, but knew not to follow.

Instead, I took a deep breath, instantly regretting it when the smell of rotting flesh stuck in the back of my throat and nearly made me vomit. I holstered my gun and walked calmly out to the kitchen, closing the door on the living room. I walked over to the vidphone on the wall and speed-dialled Une's office. She picked up on the second ring, only quickly glancing at the screen before looking back at something she was reading.

"What is it, Maxwell?"

"I need a forensics team with full equipment to come to my house ASAP."

"What?" She finally gave me her full attention, and her eyes widened slightly. I wondered what she saw that made her so shocked, but didn't give it much thought, I was too busy getting very, very angry. My patience, which was never that terrific, was quickly evaporating and I did not want to play Twenty Questions with Une.

"I have a dead puppy on my living room carpet, and surveillance photos of me, Heero and Fei covering the front door. You may have been reluctant to prosecute when all we had were bloody roses, but you cannot ignore this, and if you do, I will hand in my resignation and go back to being a fucking terrorist."

I hung up rather forcefully, and sat heavily in one of the chairs at the kitchen table. My mind was in a small state of shock, it refused to believe that this was actually happening. Feathers, notes, roses, I could handle that, but dead puppies… not just dead, mutilated, ravaged, tortured. Whoever this was had just stepped into a whole new category of sick.