Warnings and Disclaimer: Keeping it PG-13 for now, and I'm hoping I can keep it there, but don't be surprised if it goes up in the next several chapters. Please bear with me, as Duo's probably going to get much worse before he gets better, but I promise, he WILL get better.
Quick note: I really love reviewers, I hope everyone read their personalized reply, and I want to extend a thanks to new reviewers Wolf Wing and Memorietrail. For all of those who were praying for 1x2, let's just say that I couldn't make it that easy. If it's going to be that easy, why bother writing it at all?
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Chapter 4:
"Dr. Collins, a Preventer Merquis here to see you," Natalie's voice over the speaker nearly gave Collins a heart attack. Once he calmed himself, the information sunk in and the scientist hit the speaker button on his phone.
"Excuse me, Natalie, could you repeat that?"
"A Preventer Merquis is here to see you. He says it's a surprise inspection and he wants a personal tour of all facilities," she explained quickly, shooting wary glances at the beautiful man before her.
"Zechs Merquis?" Collins' voice was strained.
There was a pause, then, "Yes."
"Bring him up, Natalie. Then if you'd be a dear and check up on the First I'd be greatly appreciative," he instructed.
"But isn't—"
"No questions just now, Natalie, please."
"Very well, sir." The line disconnected.
Collins slumped helplessly in his chair. Of all the people to come for a surprise inspection it just had to be him, didn't it?
Perhaps it was just as well, he admitted silently. All attempts to undo the First's Imprint had gone over like lead balloons. The First was fixated, completely. He'd spent the better part of the first week doing nothing but begging for his Master to be sent for, or to be allowed to go to him. Collins' continual denial of Desolo's fundamental need had lead quickly into depression. His half-Imprinted mind was entirely focused on his chosen Master, and cared little for anything else. Without touch, scent, smell and voice, the First's mind was trapped in a child-like obsession, unwilling and unable to care about anything but completing the Impression.
The scientist let out a long sigh. He was on uncertain ground. He'd never had a case like this before where an Owned was unable to fully Imprint. Of course, the First had always been an exception. He had hoped, desperately so, that the Imprinting could be undone. Neither he nor Kelvare had ever considered that an Impression would occur accidentally, and his predecessor wouldn't have been able to fathom the idea that someone may not even want an Owned.
Well, Collins decided mentally, it may come to finding Masters for the remaining Owned then having the project shut down, but it was better than the alternative. Only two weeks after the initial Imprinting, the First's mental stability was quickly spinning out of control. Either the Impression would have to be completed or the First would die. There was no alternative. Over the year he'd watched over the First, Collins had grown a kind of fatherly affection and sense of responsibility for the young Owned. He viewed all of the Owned as his children of a sort, and would rather have his project shut down then watch one drive itself to a death of longing. It was too cruel.
The scientist's musings were interrupted as a polite knock sounded on the door and Natalie's tall, almost excessively lean frame entered, followed closely by the man whose picture had been burned into Collins' mind almost as certainly as it had been Imprinted into the First's.
Oh, Lord, Collins prayed silently as he braced himself, let this man be kind. Please, let him heal Desolo.
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Zechs' first impression of Dr. Avery Collins was unimpressed. The scientist was a man who was in his early forties and just a bit overweight. He was dressed in a striking business suit and his graying hair was cut close and combed over to one side. Though the suit was striking and the haircut professional, the man was the sort who was naturally forgettable. He had the bland sort of features, which were neither attractive nor repulsive, the sort who could easily blend into about any background just by politely excusing himself. He was a mere 5'5" though that may have been due to the slightly thick soles on his polished loafers. He possessed what was likely usually an easy and disarming manner, but seemed frazzled by the Preventer's unannounced visit.
"Preventer Merquis, I assume?" Collins asked, coming out from behind his desk and shaking the blond man's hand. "Avery Collins, please, just call me Collins. I wish we could meet under better circumstances."
"You and I both, Doctor," Zechs stated, trying to figure out where this man could be going so quickly. Giving up already? That just didn't seem right.
"Just Collins, I told you," the scientist corrected quickly. "If you'll follow me we can begin the tour immediately. I have a bit to explain to you and something, or rather someone, of the utmost importance to show you. You probably don't remember me, Preventer, but I was an apprentice of Dr. Kelvare's when he worked for OZ—"
Zechs stopped immediately in his tracks and began to bear down on the much smaller man. "You are Kelvare's successor?!" crystal blue eyes blazed in fury.
"Ah, so you remember my esteemed predecessor, do you? Well, then you'll be glad to know he's dead. Killed by one of the Owned as a matter of fact, the one which will be of particular interest to you," Collins spoke in the quick, slightly hurried speech of the extremely intelligent. The kind of speech that usually said they had more ideas than they could communicate in what they deemed a sufficient amount of time. There was a particular nervous undertone to the rapid speech though, as though he were usually more in control.
"I was unaware that Kelvare had anything to do with the Owned," the blond man stated dubiously as he followed the again moving scientist.
"Then you didn't read your file very closely. Desolo was what Kelvare was trying to accomplish during the war, a race of perfect bodyguards, perfect soldiers as it may be, who were utterly loyal to those whom they belonged. He didn't perfect the process though, until a little over a year ago. I'm certain you're here to make certain all of the Owned are here of their own volition, yes? Well, they are, I can personally assure you, with the exception of one. We call him the First, because he was the first successful Desolo, and he was also the only one who was utterly unwilling. A fact which I did not learn until the majority of the transformation had been done.
"Anyway, upon realizing what had happened to him, he killed Kelvare in a mad rage. I covered it up with few problems. As I'm sure you remember, Kelvare was a rather universally despised man."
"Hold on, Doctor, are you telling me there is a Desolo in this very building that was unwilling?" Zechs demanded, trying to make sure that he hadn't misheard something.
"Please listen more closely, Preventer Merquis. I've been telling you just that for nearly five minutes now. I am well aware that it is grounds to shut down the entire organization, and I wouldn't be telling you except that the First has run into some… complications."
"Complications? Deadly complications?" a blond eyebrow raised.
"Quite possibly," Collins conceded with a long sigh that seemed to drain the earlier energy. "Come, I'll take you to him," he began to walk down a different hallway at a much slower pace than before. "Now I must explain some things about the First. He's always been different. As you know, usually the process that allow the Owned to Imprint almost totally destroys all personal memories, but the First's have always been astoundingly clear, with the exception that he couldn't really recall faces or names. And due to the nature of the Imprinting, it's not like I could show him pictures of people it might be. Also, he has had a deep-seated hatred of me and most of my associates and thus, refused to Imprint on any of us. This allowed him a great deal more freedom in the complex than the others have. However, in the last few months, his memories have been fading. I've been urging him to Imprint on someone, but he was absolutely certain he was waiting for someone. Then Sunday morning, two weeks ago, I was reading the news paper in my office when he came flying in, the most desperate look in his eyes I'd ever seen.
"Preventer Merquis, do you remember whose picture was on the front page of the paper two weeks ago?"
Zechs paused and thought about it for a moment, then mentally shook his head at his own idiocy. "Mine. That was the day that my wedding date was published… surely you're not saying…" the blond Preventer's eyes grew wide and afraid.
"I'm afraid so, Preventer Merquis. In my surprise, I did not have sufficient time to cover the picture and the First saw it. I've not been able to get either what happened to cause his panic nor why he chose you since then. You see, the problem is, to fully Imprint the Owned must register all five senses so they can never be fooled. A picture is only a visual sense. He's lacking the other four and is totally fixated. All he'll tell me is either to send for you or to allow him to go to you himself. I continued to refuse, trying to find a way to undo it, but…"
"No progress?" there was a strained quality to Zechs' voice now.
Collins scoffed. "No progress would indicate that there's even been a change, whether positive or negative. Nothing's put a dent in his fixation for even a moment. You are now the center of his universe, Preventer Merquis. As far as I can tell, it cannot be undone."
"What happens if I just refuse to take him?"
"He'll die. Whether he actively ends his life or allows himself to waste away is rather inconsequential, don't you think? Perhaps I was a little vague. You are not just the center of his universe now, Preventer, you are his universe. If you are happy, he will be happy, if you are sad, so will he be. Your disapproval is his utmost fear. To fail you, unthinkable."
"How could people willingly subject themselves to that?!" the somewhat frantic Preventer demanded.
Collins shrugged. "The Owned can love no one but their Master, but I've found that the Masters quickly begin to love their Owned. They aren't mindless animals, Preventer. They are, however, very detached from emotions concerning anyone but their Masters. I'm afraid you'll have to take the First with you. I'll have his things packed up and sent to your home ahead of you if you'd give me your address."
"I'll just leave him."
"Be realistic, man. You're not that cruel. Not when you're sane, anyway. And believe me, if the First continues on the path he is on, I give him a month, no more than three at best, and every passing day will be more torture than the last," Collins explained flatly, standing outside a door. "So? What is your answer?"
Zechs took a deep breath and steeled himself. He knew that Collins was right, he couldn't allow that poor creature to die such a lonely and painful death. "All right. I accept," he let out a long sigh. "What is his name?" he asked as the thought suddenly occurred to him. "Surely he had a name…"
"Of course he did, but it's not really important now is it?" Collins stated, opening the door. "Whatever you call him will make him happy."
Zechs timidly stepped into the room, eyes alighting on the only other person in the room. Curled up in what appeared to be an oversized pet bed the First was curled up, elegant black wings spread over itself like a blanket and a black tail flicking negligently back and forth. Waves of chestnut hair spilled over the side of the bed and onto the floor as the creature played with a set of photographs on the floor. Upon closer inspection, the blond realized they were pictures of himself. The creature was humming a peculiar tune under his breath that struck a chord in the elder man, apparently unaware of his visitors.
"Desolo," Collins called gently. "Look who's here. Look who's come for you."
The Owned looked first at Collins, then past him, violet eyes lighting up with absolute joy as they landed on Zechs. Before the blond man could register his astonishment, the First was across the room and clinging tightly to his leg, nuzzling it, obviously taking everything about his Master in.
The blond Preventer felt positively ill as the implications of those violet eyes sunk in, and he fell to his knees, tears in his eyes. "Duo?" he asked. Instantly, the Owned was alert, confused and a little afraid as to what had upset his Master.
"Yes?"
"Oh, in the name of all that's holy!" the blond cried, wrapping his arms tightly around the smaller man. "Duo… our beautiful, beautiful Duo…my dear friend… what's happened to you?" and with that, he began to weep great heaving sobs of despair.
"Master?" the innocent query only deepened the sobs and tears sprung unbidden to the First's own eyes.
Collins stared on in horror.
TSUZUKU…
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dives for cover Don't kill the author. Killing author means no more chapters…
