For: language, adult problems, etc.
A/N: One of the few chapter titles that isn't a song ::hooray::. Sorry it took so long to get this one; I recently became employed. Anyway, standard warnings apply, plus some substance abuse. All standard disclaimers apply as well. Enjoy the show.
Chapter Twelve- Chasing the Dragon
Duo sat cross-legged on the countertop with a thick brush and a bucket of white paint. His hair was tied back, bandana slicked over the thick chestnut locks, as he worked the bristles back and forth over the beautiful designs he'd painted. Kolya was nearby, hunched over a dense workbook, a pencil between his lips. The radio echoed a somber tune behind them as Duo worked in and around the curves in the cabinetry. He paused then, watching the pain drip down slowly as he took a drink from the plastic bottle beside him. The liquid inside was clear, but elicited a slight cough from the bottom of his throat, the burning sensation tingling on his lips. This taste had always reminded him of blueberry muffins… Heero's favorite breakfast, and one of the only foods that Duo was very proficient in making.
"Duo?" He shook his head, knocking the thoughts from his mind before answering the voice that had called him.
"Hm?" His own voice wafted over the room, warm and liquid. Kolya frowned and stared down that the book, pushing the pencil's eraser against his teeth. Duo took a drink and slipped off the counter, adjusting his shorts slightly as he made his way towards Kolya. "You learning English there, bud?"
"Dah," he replied, sliding one finger down the list. "Une… give me book and say 'you learn.' So… I learn," he added, gesturing vaguely over the tome. They were written in Russian script, something foreign to Duo. He leaned over one of the other boy's shoulders, placing his hands on the back of the chair, and tried to analyze the symbols. He'd seen Russian before; once or twice, it'd been written on signs around a weapons base. He knew the Russians basically dominated military technology, and had for years now. It tended to be a falsified attempt to make up for their turbulent society. The only words he could recognize were ones that roughly translated to 'Danger' and 'Exit.' Neither of those was on the page.
"I have question."
"Yeah?"
"Dah. You die art, yes?"
"What?"
"You… you make art, then… you die it."
"I… I paint, yeah…"
"Dah, and then you die it."
"I painted over it…"
"No… uh…. Color is beautiful, yes? But now…" He looked down again, hunting for the right word. "Now, gone."
"Oh! I die it… I killed it, right?"
Kolya stared back at him, the gorgeous blue eyes wide and mired in confusion. Duo pursed his lips. Then, he got an idea. He grabbed a piece of paper form the drawer and sat in the other chair beside Kolya's. "Can I use your pencil?"
"Dah," he replied, extending it to him. Duo drew quickly, running lines over the page with a tremendous speed. Then, he began to point with the graphite tip. "Okay, so we'll call this art, right?" Kolya simply nodded in reply. "Okay, so you're saying I 'die' art, that I get rid of it, right?" He tried to demonstrate this by scratching over the little picture he'd made. Slowly Kolya nodded again.
"Yes," he added. "You die it… is gone."
"Right, but see that's wrong." Kolya looked at him like he had lobsters crawling out of his ears. "Okay, see… you can't 'die' something. You would say you killed it, understand?"
"Nyehtt," Kolya answered. For a moment, Duo was proud of his ability to keep up with Kolya, learning the words 'yes,' 'no,' and 'fuck off' in the other boy's language. Then, he remembered that he still had to explain this concept.
"Okay…" he began slowly, frowning. "Okay… the thing is when you say something 'dies' you're saying the subject is dead. Like… you're saying I'm dead. And… die can't have a direct object, like 'it.' So, you want to say, 'I killed art.'" He decided he didn't to explain the concept of living objects and what words applied to them. "Get it?" Kolya nodded in agreement, even though he didn't understand all the way. Duo was trying and that was what mattered. "So, does that take care of your question?
"Know… I want to learn why."
"Why? Why what?"
"Why you kill art."
Duo stopped then; his mind froze. He couldn't operate then. He didn't want to answer that. This was how he'd always been. He was good at the jokes, the easy things but he never wanted to explain why. He liked to think that sometimes there was no why; things just were, they must be dealt with and that was that, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars. In short, Duo Maxwell did not do 'why.' He just didn't
That made for the most probable explanation of why the door opening came as such an overwhelming relief to the silent tension that orbited around the kitchen table. Quickly, perhaps too quickly, he pushed away the wooden chair and rose to greet whoever had just arrived.
"Hey, Hee-chan," he murmured, coming in close to his lover, who had just come home. Things had changed between them since that afternoon, that one moment of reckless abandon, in which neither of them had cared about what was happening, except for what ran around the thick pulse that passed between them. For the hure, there was less desperation in his actions, his motions and his mind; he felt more relaxed. For the other, this only mounted, as did his own worry that he no longer felt anything for his hure.
So, when Duo's lips met his, he had his mind elsewhere, trying to ignore the hot stickiness of alcohol on his Lover's breath.
"How's Lela?"
"She won't leave."
"Fucking duh."
Heero ignored that as well. "She doesn't have any clothes or toothpaste or anything."
"I'll leave for work early and bring some things by."
"Good… Trowa's with her now." Heero didn't say it, but none of them wanted to leave Lela alone for any extended length of time. She already had a history of self-mutilation, and the last thing that anyone needed was a live baby with a dead mommy.
"Good. You hungry?"
"A bit."
"I can make you something to eat, if you want."
"You should probably get ready for work." He didn't want to owe Duo any favors at this point, just in case something went wrong. Duo shrugged him off easily, taking Heero's hand in his own and lacing their fingers.
"I'll be fine. I already look perfectly feminine." Heero stole a quick glance over the slender body beside him and saw that it was true. Even wearing his hair back, the short khaki shorts and fishnet shirt gave him an undoubtedly effeminate gleam. He watched Duo as the other boy moved around the kitchen, closing up the paint can and washing out one of his brushes. Heero knew he was trying to hide the way he emptied out the plastic bottle that had indubitably been filled with some kind of liquor. He also knew that there was no way Duo could put such a thing past him.
"Duo?"
"Yeah?"
"You… go to hospital tonight, yes?"
"Dah," Duo answered, winking at Kolya before straining up into one of the unpainted cabinets and groping for a spice of two.
"You… take me with you, yes? Please?"
Duo tossed a wily grin at the Russian across the room. "No problem, Kolya-baby. We'll leave in like… thirty minutes, okay?"
"Dah," Kolya replied, looking back down at the book. He decided he'd take it with him. Lela would be proud of how much he'd learned.
As Duo spread the mayonnaise over a slice of sourdough bread, he calculated in his mind how he was going to pull this off. It wouldn't be easy, not with that damned fucking Russian. But, he owed him.
Kolya stared out the window of the subway, examining the bright lights. He hadn't been on one of these since he was a small child, and forgotten how surprising they were. Duo, now Megan, seemed completely unphased by everything around him/her, and was gently tapping out an intricate finger pattern on one thigh, encased in fishnet. A commuter, nameless and faceless, was giving Duo an easy once over. Duo smiled with red lips, the lipstick smudging and spreading even further across his face. The man winked at him, and he couldn't help but muse to himself as to whether or not this man knew he was trans. Perhaps, that was the attraction.
The train lurched to a stop down by Chinatown, and Duo moved quickly. He slid the black messenger bag over one shoulder and took Kolya's hand with his other, pulling him off the train.
"Duo?"
"Yeah?"
"This… is not hospital."
"I know. I have a friend in this area. I'm getting her some dinner."
Kolya didn't understand all the way, but he didn't want to be lost in this city either. He pumped his legs, trying to keep up with Duo/Megan's spike heels as they clacked towards the exit. When they resurfaced, the first waves to hit Kolya's senses were the rich smells of boiling noodles and animal blood. He didn't understand the latter as much as he did the former, nor did he fully comprehend why Duo was stopping there instead of just heading straight for the hospital. But, he wasn't about the question his guide through the city, and the only reason that he was going to see Lela that evening at all. He wanted her to know what he'd learned, and get her help on some things. In some ways, that made him feel like he was a little schoolboy, but at the same time he knew that he needed to do whatever he could to take her worried mind off of Julian.
Finally, Duo pulled him into a dark shop behind a narrow wooden door. It wouldn't have mattered if he'd had the time to read the sign; he couldn't understand Romanized lettering at all. He asked Duo where they were, but remembered that he didn't speak Russian. The frustration overwhelmed him inside the dusky shop. He wished for Lela, pulling one strap of his bag tighter over his shoulder. The whole place felt like it had been there too long for anything good to come out of it. As Duo/Megan made it to the counter, Kolya's eyes fell upon a slim Chinese boy, no older than his own companion.
Duo flashed a wide grin over the counter. "Hey, Wuf-bear! Did you miss me?"
The dark eyes narrowed. "Kisama. I've told you not to come here dressed like that."
Duo shrugged his shoulders and tossed the stray hair over his shoulder. "Oh, come on, Wufei," he teased lightly. "You know I'm sexy."
"Shut up, Maxwell. What're you here for?"
"You know, you could be a little nicer. I'm here to purchase."
"For once."
"Not the first time, dear. I need you to whip up some more of that really good stuff."
Immediately, Wufei's face fell. "No, Maxwell. I don't do that kind of thing anymore. Only authentic herbalism."
"Please, Wuffie! I need this favor."
"I'm not supporting your habits anymore. I've got money now. I don't need your traces on me."
"It's not for me, it's for—"
"Him?" Wufei exclaimed, gesturing towards Kolya.
"Who?" Suddenly, Duo glanced back, his hair barely flicking the Russian's face. He leaned back, wrinkling his nose, even at the sweet smell that emanated for the cross dresser's locks. "Oh, no. Not him."
"Maxwell, I've told you at least a dozen times that I don't make deals like that with other people around."
"It doesn't matter, dude."
"I don't care how well you know him, Duo, I don't vouch for him. He's not trustworthy."
"He doesn't even speak English!"
"He doesn't?"
"Kolya," Duo exclaimed. The man came forward at his call, on simple reflex. "Introduce yourself?"
Stare.
"Uh… shit, hang on. Kolya?" Wufei crossed his arms as Duo turned to the Russian. "Uh… Meenya zahvoot Kolya… English."
"Anglheeski?"
"Dah."
"Um…My name is Kolya. I am a man."
"See?" Duo replied, throwing one arm over Kolya's shoulders. Immediately the other man stiffened. "No way he's a narc, dude." Wufei did not look even remotely pleased. He had a tight knot in his stomach, a nervous feeling. He could feel himself forcing back the vomit in his throat. Kolya felt his mind being pulled back to the camps. He couldn't control his thought any longer. Instead, he was spiraling out of control, back onto the wetness, the ground of a forest floor after a cold, icy rain.
"Kolya! Get up, Kolya!"
His mind was groggy, his eyes barely split open. The world was foggy around him. There was a voice… a boy's voice calling his name somewhere, but he couldn't see him. "Kolya! Please, please get up! They're coming! Hurry!"
Something pulled tightly on his arm, and he heard the other boy's scream before he lost everything again, a sharp pain stinging the back of his neck.
Kolya shook his head abruptly, snapping back into the dark shop, where Duo and Wufei were still discussing whatever they'd been talking about before.
"Duo, I don't want to have to do this for you ever again, okay?" Wufei's voice was low and serious as he spoke, his dark eyes fixed against the painted light of Duo/Megan's. "It's bad enough that I gave you a sake discount to celebrate two months of sobriety."
"You're the one who sold it."
"Yes, because I was flying high on my own white dragon. I would've sold it to a twelve year old."
"Then, really, who's at fault here?"
"Kisama. It'll be ready Friday. You can bring it to her then."
"Cool. Thanks a lot, Wuf-bear."
"Watch yourself, Maxwell."
"Will do. Be back Friday. Let's go, Kolya."
The Russian felt Duo's fingers wrap around his elbow and pull him from the dark shop. It wasn't until they were back on the subway, halfway to the hospital that he remembered something.
Duo had mentioned getting Lela dinner. There was no food anywhere.