A/N: Thanks so much for your patience and encouragement!

Chapter Summary: Everyone's very upset that Duo isn't around to make dirty jokes.

As a sidenote for this story – the event that led to the rift between Heero and Duo is not a canon event, just fyi.


Chapter 12

Mine and Yours


The lights of late night London shone like fireflies amidst the dark, a view that often went ignored by the occupants of the ninth floor's main conference room. The room itself was the largest of those available in the London Preventers Branch Office, meant to sit nearly 30 people at once, and yet still afforded enough room for a hardwood counter to go from wall to wall. If a meeting had been planned in advance, fresh flora and vital conference materials would be set up prior to occupation, the wood panel at the front of the room folded back to reveal the large screen to be used for presentations.

The paneled wood was not folded close at this time, the table and counters bare of any materials. The illumination – circular and bulbous ceiling lights along with more boxed wall lights – were lit for the sole occupant, who was visible through the thick-cut glass wall next to the closed office door. Deep purple robes with golden-threaded accents shimmered under the lights. A long mane of white hair tied back into a low ponytail poked out from a matching purple wizard's hat.

Albus Dumbledore.

Une knew the name and knew the face of the man who stood in the conference room. She'd seen him once or twice after their first meeting in Hemel Hempstead, given he'd represented one of the major terran magical nations at the time. He'd been replaced in the last few meetings by a stout witch with a shrewd eye, one Madame Bones, and Une had not mentioned the switch. It was magical Britain's prerogative to send who they thought best, so Une met them on equal footing without blinking.

Une had, of course, been brought up to date on magical Britain's current affairs. Dorothy Catalonia's interest had been piqued by her little songbirds, and that interest had only magnified to the nth degree when they'd learned Duo Maxwell had gone missing in a location rife with terran magic. It had proceeded to turn vitally important when Winner and his team believed Maxwell to have been killed, so Une had spent her time learning as much as she could to keep her people in check and manage the damage they would surely wreak.

"I'll go in alone for now," Une decided.

"The conference room isn't warded," Cordell told her, standing next to a concerned Bay. "He probably chose it for that reason."

Dumbledore had apparated directly into the room, to Bay's absolute horror. They were still working on properly warding the Preventers offices across the Earth Sphere, and while the London branch had more than its fair share, they only kept permanent wards on the offices that held their agents, the lobby, and the entirety of the seventh floor. The conference rooms on the 9th floor also had some permanently warded rooms, some with wards that could be activated – but Dumbledore had found the one room with no wards.

It was a warning, as much as it was a concession. The revelation that he had been able to identify one of the weaknesses in their defense, but also that he would willingly put himself at their mercy.

After all, the room itself may not be warded – but that didn't mean they couldn't make it warded now.

Une held her arm out, allowing Anchor to clasp what looked like a silver, faceless watch around her wrist. It rested deceptively light against her skin, cool to the touch, just as red digital script flashed across the top. It flashed three times before it suddenly warmed to her body temperature, and she knew it had now registered her down to the molecular level.

"This is the Silver-cuff. It will keep him from taking you on a side-along apparition or forcing you to leave this building," Anchor said. "But it won't stop any hexes or curses."

Une nodded, glancing over at Sally and Chang, standing nearby. "Winner will be listening in," Chang told her, indicating to the cameras hidden along the walls and ceiling of the conference room. "We'll step in if we see anything suspicious."

"Knock me out if I start saying anything too crazy," Une said, only partially-joking. She trusted her agents to know if she was caught in the middle of a spell that made her act erratic. "And if I'm taken hostage – command falls to Po."

Orders given, Bay and Cordell stepped aside so that Une had unimpeded access. She glanced once more at Sally, who saw her look and tapped her wristwatch before flashing her five fingers three times. Une nodded in understanding, checked her silver-cuff one last time, and then pushed open the door to the room.

Dumbledore turned at her entrance, and though he was not smiling – he was neither unduly intimidating. His expression was neutral, hands visible at all times as he watched her approach. "Director Une," he greeted her. "Apologies for my sudden appearance, I did not mean to startle your agents."

"Not at all," Une returned evenly. "I did, after all, invite you."

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, your letter. I must admit some small matter of surprise at seeing Preventers use owls for correspondence. I was under the impression your people found it…archaic."

"We adapt if necessary."

Dumbledore's eyes never strayed from her own. It was almost as if he were validating the insinuations from her placid expression, as he nodded once more and quietly took a seat at the corner of the large conference table. It was an unexpected concession, as he left the seat at the head of the table open to her.

"I am not here to fight, Director Une," he said. "I am here to clear up what I fear is a grievous misunderstanding."

"I'd be interested in hearing some explanation for this," Une returned diffidently, taking the seat adjacent to the wizard. "I have had to endure two separate attempts to coerce and manipulate my agents by British terran magic users within the same 24 hours, all for the same purpose – to hide what happened in Yorkshire."

Dumbledore inclined his head in agreement, "Yes, the incident in Yorkshire is what I'm here to discuss."

"The Monroe case?" Une clarified.

"To a degree," Dumbledore agreed, maintaining even eye contact with her. "But I believe both you and I are more concerned with the young man at the center of it."

Une didn't tense, keeping her strict posture and calm demeanor. If Dumbledore was implying what Une thought he may be implying, then the fact that he'd come here ready to discuss Duo Maxwell was more than she had hoped for. Given enough time, she was sure they could have pried the answers they needed from Lupin or the impostor, but if Dumbledore was going to give it freely…

"Duo Maxwell is alive," Une asserted, deciding to cut through the conversational circles men like Dumbledore seemed to favor. Perhaps if she'd kept her personalities separate, the Lady she had been would have indulged – but she was Director of Preventers now, and she wanted to know the whereabouts of her agent.

Dumbledore leaned back a bit more in his seat, eyebrows furrowing slightly before relaxing once more. He seemed to have been surprised by her statement, so she continued. "Remus Lupin agreed to cooperate," she lied smoothly.

"…That's a bit of a surprise," Dumbledore allowed. "I've known Remus for many years, and he is a good man – but he's not always treated fairly by the authorities. I'd have thought he'd be more wary of you, given the… nature of this affair."

"I imagine he was more worried about his trip to L2 when he agreed to our terms," Une returned evenly.

Dumbledore was quiet for a long moment, seemingly searching her eyes for some sign that this was a lie. Une matched his gaze fearlessly.

"That's quite a cruel tactic," Dumbledore's tone had cooled by a few degrees.

Une raised an eyebrow. "Almost as cruel as covering up the murder of the Monroe's and the abduction of Duo Maxwell?"

Dumbledore didn't answer that, instead heaving a quiet sigh. "No, I don't believe so. The murder of Alfred and Penny Monroe was cruelty for cruelty's sake, a needless spilling of innocent blood."

Une was taken aback by the sincerely solemn tone. "You know their names?"

"As do you," Dumbledore returned. He was right – Alfred and Penny Monroe were names she'd branded in her mind, the first in a list of casualties for a growing threat that incorporated both magic users and their non-magic counterparts. Une would not forget that. "I'm here in the hopes that there won't be more victims."

"Then you will tell me the whereabouts of Duo Maxwell," Une said.

Once they had Maxwell recovered, they'd be able to throw the full weight of Preventers behind the going-ons of the British magical community. Without some form of resolution regarding the missing Deathscythe pilot, they ran the risk of having his four compatriots seeking that resolution themselves, or god forbid revenge.

And Une wasn't just going to sit quietly and twiddle her thumbs while one of her agents (on sabbatical or not) was out there, injured and held captive by possible hostiles. Duo Maxwell was one of hers now, and she'd made a promise in the birth of this new age not to stand by and do nothing when war whispered in the ears of men and made children pay the price of it.

Dumbledore did not look away from her as he spoke, "Duo Maxwell is resting in our safehouse."

Une blinked slowly.

"As your agents have doubtlessly discovered, he was temporarily lodging at the Monroe's estate to visit Remus," Dumbledore continued, completely calm. "On July 18th, late in the evening, he was attacked by three masked men from a terrorist group we called Death Eaters. Although the means of how he was able to do so are still unknown to me, Duo was able to subdue his attackers and all 3 were killed in self-defense by the young man.

"Remus was made aware of a possible attack being made against his son and apparated to the residence too late. He attempted to speak with Duo but I'm afraid the young man felt he couldn't trust Remus at that time – wizarding robes look very similar to those unfamiliar, and he assumed that his own life was in danger."

Une was very still. "If Duo Maxwell really had believed himself to be in danger and that Lupin was a threat, then Lupin would not be alive right now," she pointed out. The man would have been easily taken down by a Gundam pilot, especially one who looked as misleadingly harmless as Maxwell.

Dumbledore, to her surprise, nodded. "If it had been anyone but Remus, I'm sure there would have been more casualties. However, Duo is not so cruel as to be the one responsible for the murder of his own father."

"So he- what? Just followed Lupin obediently?" Une retorted in disbelief.

"He attacked and mutilated one of the men accompanying Remus for the rescue attempt, but was outnumbered and rendered unconscious by seven simultaneous stunner spells," Dumbledore explained. "We judged that leaving him alone would put him in more danger, and he was brought to our safehouse, where he agreed to stay once we had fully explained the situation to him."

"His friends have been trying to contact him for days, with no response."

"I'm afraid the safehouse is a magically active environment, which damaged all of his muggle technology. He tried to use his electronic box – called a computer, I believe? – but it was emitting smoke the moment he tried to activate it. His phones were much the same," Dumbledore explained.

His frown grew slightly after a brief rumination. "I did not take the care to ask him if he needed to communicate with someone about his whereabouts, as from what I understood, he is emancipated. Duo also made no inclination to ask if he could, so I'm afraid we just assumed there was no one he needed to report to. A grievous error on our part," he conceded.

Une didn't think the fault lied entirely with him, if this whole story was true. From what she had gleaned over the months Duo had refused to return to duty, there had been some kind of fallout between himself and his former comrade and roommate Yuy.

Une made a point not to pry too much into their personal affairs unless asked. She may consider them extremely capable agents, but they were also teenagers trying to figure themselves out in peacetime now that they no longer needed to shoulder the burden of a war. If they fought and argued and threw fits, it was well within their rights to do so – god knows it was better than them bottling it all up and choking down the bitter pill they'd been forced to swallow since they were children.

"We attempted to hide his presence in the Monroe case because we feared it would make him even more of a target," Dumbledore continued. "Beyond hiding the fact that he was on the premises during their murder, we left the scene untouched."

"Then Alfred and Penny Monroe?"

"They were killed by the same three men that had attacked Duo, moments prior," Dumbledore said sadly. "The men were from… prominent families in the British wizarding community. I fear that this fact, along with other factors, led to another cover-up."

Which would explain why she had two Ministry lackeys and two Dumbledore lackeys in her holding cells, both aiming to hide the truth from Preventers with fingers pointed in wildly different directions.

"If this is true, then why did Duo Maxwell not come with Lupin today?" Une asked. And why was he considered dead by the four boys who knew him best prior to the revelation made by Agent Glass?

Dumbledore's expression became pained. "Another oversight, upon which Duo paid the cost once more," he said. "The safehouse holds many magical artifacts, some of which are not benign. Newtype magic can react strangely to terran magic, and unfortunately Duo came into possession of one such object a few days ago. He'd displayed signs of extreme duress before he passed out, and he's remained comatose since."

A sharp inhale of breath was the only outward sign Une gave at the upsetting news. The story fit the events as they understood them; if an unfortunate encounter with a terran magical artifact was involved in Duo's absence, then it was likely it had interfered with Winner's ability to sense him – leading to the conclusion of his death.

"And you meant to hide this from us?" Une ground out. "You said it just now – 'Newtype magic can react strangely to terran magic'. You knew Duo Maxwell is a Newtype, and you attempted to hide him from us?"

What would they have done, if Duo Maxwell never woke up? If their terran magic was not enough to rouse the boy, and the loved ones Duo had left behind were still under the assumption he was long dead?

"…I know an apology is not enough," Dumbledore answered somberly. "Wizards are not used to relying on structures outside of our communities. We make the foolish assumption that if we cannot fix it, then no one can."

"Yes, your traditions," Une retorted, ice in her words. "Your vain sense of superiority that led to the rise of Dark Lords and Ladies, to the belief system of Voldemort."

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose, and Une was viciously pleased to see she had stunned him. "Preventers like to stay informed on the communities and peoples we are tasked to protect, and though your community may not believe so – you fall under our jurisdiction as well. So yes, we know all about your history with the Dark Lord Voldemort."

A genocidal maniac who attempted to murder his way through the UK, culminating in a stagnant British magical ministry incapable of handling him and deaths of both magical and muggle citizens. He'd been felled by a child 14 years ago, and though his death had been confirmed by the papers, the whispers circulating now speculated it had not been permanent.

Une continued on, voice close to the silken tones she'd used as the Lady who disguised bloodthirst behind velvet. "I've heard all about you. I've heard about what you've been saying, about the return of the Dark Lord. You haven't convinced your Minister, your government, not even your press… They say you're mad. So convince me, Dumbledore."

Convince me why you risked this gambit, why you risked your men, why you risked one of mine.

A knock interrupted them. Une did not look away but gave a curt command for the interloper to enter, and was not disappointed by the platinum blonde mane of hair she could see in her peripheral vision.

"Agent Wind," she greeted. "This is Albus Dumbledore. He was just explaining to me the situation regarding Duo Maxwell and possible terrorist activity in the British wizarding community."

The seat adjacent to her own and opposite of Dumbledore's was taken. "I'd be interested in hearing that as well, Director," came the reply steeped in a tone of indifference. Dumbledore turned his eyes to the new arrival as if to gauge him, and Une was amused to see her old comrade match the look without a single shift in expression.

There was a tense moment where both men stared at each other, and then – a single blond eyebrow was raised, the indifference muddled by the vague condescension in the action.

"Fascinating," Dumbledore mused lowly, some trepidation in his tone now.

Before she could remark on what she was starting to fear was a silent pissing contest between the two, a hand was raised to block her eyes just before Dumbledore could look back in her direction.

"You are a Legilimens," her agent stated coldly.

Fuck, Une thought, mind completely unguarded.

"I am," Dumbledore agreed mildly. He must have realized it was pointless to pretend otherwise, and for Agent Wind to proclaim it so quickly meant the wizard had been trying to use it on him. And he's likely used it the entire time we've been speaking, Une reflected. God knows what he'd been able to see in her eyes, in her thoughts about Maxwell and those like him.

Agent Wind looked back to her, still keeping her eyes blocked, one eyebrow raised – a silent question: did she want to stay, or watch from outside with Winner?

Une looked back at him, then pointedly shut her eyes and kept them that way.

A small huff, the ghost of a laugh – and Une felt the arm blocking her view drop even though she could not see it.

"I apologize again," Dumbledore said, and it sounded sincere, but Une would be a fool to trust him based on tone.

"Acknowledged, but you must refrain from using it again in the presence of a Preventers agent," was the other man's response.

"Yes, I will endeavor to do so."

That wasn't quite an agreement, but they were walking the fine line between allies and enemies at the moment, so Une let it slide.

Dumbledore was not speaking, but Une had the feeling that his eyes were no longer on her and instead rested on her companion. "I was not aware Occlumency was studied by Newtypes," he eventually said, but rather than aggrieved, he seemed merely curious.

"You will find," Zechs Merquise began. "That I am quite used to hiding behind a mask."


Agent Zero-One, Duo's Heero, was immovable.

His expression betrayed nothing as they waited in silence. The last words said by the stoic boy hovered in the spaces between them, stinging and suffocating with their weight. They both knew the truth in those words, to varying degrees – it was very clear, at least to Remus, that this young man with the cold Prussian blue eyes knew more about Remus's son than Remus himself did.

Remus didn't know to what extent they did believe him. From the charges they'd brought against him, it seemed he was not being charged for murder of any kind; but it was also possible that they were waiting to levy such a heavy charge against him once he is safely off-planet and away from wizarding Britain.

The prospect was terrifying for more reasons than Remus could think through. Not just the prospect of losing his magic once he left Earth's gravitational pull – but also the distance it put between Remus and his friends, far way from where he needed to be as an Order member, as Sirius's only surviving friend, as Duo's father while he was so vulnerable.

He couldn't go to space. Being that far away from everything he loved and needed to protect – it was unthinkable. Remus knew he had to somehow convince these Newtypes, these Preventers (these children who wore the mantles of soldiers), that he had to remain here, at least long enough to give the Order time to devise some way to get them out.

"I can't go to space," Remus repeated. Heero ignored him, leaned against the wall next to the door with his arms crossed.

Remus tried again, throat dry, "I-I can't, because… Because I have lycanthropy."

No werewolf had ever been exposed to space flight before. The words Duo uttered all those days ago rung in his ears now: "Well, it's not like the moon is ever really gone. It's always full, technically. So what do you think happens when a werewolf is actually on the moon?"

No one knew. The sight of the full moon from the Earth's crust was enough to incite the transformation; to go even closer, to see the moon practically unfiltered, to possibly even be kept on its surface… Was it possible to become a werewolf permanently?

"I'm a werewolf. I… I could transform while in transit, and I don't know… I don't know if I could even transform back if I'm not on Earth," Remus continued, voice wavering. The idea was terrifying in its possibility, the kind of nightmare he'd never imagined ever being faced with.

"Then where is Duo Maxwell?"

Heero's tone was uncompromising. Remus wondered if Newtypes even had werewolves among their star islands, wondered if they could even conceptualize the horror of a curse that turned you into an unthinking monster who thrived off spilling blood.

"I can't tell you that," Remus answered. Even if I had wanted to. The Fidelius Charm had made sure of that, and Duo sat safe and comatose behind it.

Heero didn't so much as twitch at the response. No irritation at how quick the denial had come, no contemptuous expectation; he wore a face of stone, as cold and unfeeling as the metal table under Remus's sweaty palms. Just like Duo, Heero did not fidget, eyes always aware and movements carefully coordinated.

Remus's eyes fell on the Preventers logo, sewn meticulously onto the jacket Heero wore.

"Was Duo like you?" The words tumbled thoughtlessly from his lips.

Heero did not answer. Remus did not need him to.

"If you transform into a werewolf in ascension, it is likely you may escape confinement and damage the shuttlecraft," Heero stated, words simple and bland, as if these were facts rather than hypotheticals. "If that happens, you will suffocate unless your wolf form is able to keep the spacesuit on."

They both knew that wasn't a possibility. This was not a concession, Remus recognized – this was a threat. If Remus did not cooperate and give them what they wanted, they would send him up to space and let him die up there.

The door opened once more, another boy – blonde with big baby blue eyes, the same age as Heero – taking a step inside. He was looking only at the other boy as he spoke, "Zero-One, we have new orders. Zero-Five will explain."

Heero nodded curtly in understanding, stepping past the blonde – another child, another boy too young to be here – and out of the room. Rather than following him, the blonde boy shut the door behind him and finally turned to Remus.

"Albus Dumbledore arrived and vouched for you and Miss Tonks."

The words, despite how gently they were given, cut him deeply. It must have shown in his face, as the blonde took the seat across from him, expression much more open and kind than any of the boys Remus had met before him.

"It was an accident, what happened to Duo," the boy began, and the way his voice caressed his son's name, Remus knew without a doubt that this boy before him knew his son. "And we understand now that even if we had pressed you for answers, you could not provide them because of the Fidelius Charm.

"Many mistakes were made in how the situation was handled, but we are not enemies, Mr. Lupin. You love Duo," the blonde boy placed a hand over his heart. "And we love Duo too. When we- we thought we had lost him for good, we were… distraught."

"You know my son?" Remus asked quietly.

"Yes," the blonde answered readily. "You asked Heero if Duo was like us. But you already know the answer to that, don't you, Mr. Lupin?"

It was there in the way they acted, in the way they presented themselves. They were the same age as Duo, with the same careful control, with the same sharp eyes; it was as if someone had taken the children of the star islands and taught them to be machines rather than people.

Remus bowed his head.

"We are dropping the charges against you and Miss Tonks," the boy continued, even though Remus refused to lift his head. "Dumbledore has explained the current situation regarding the return of the Dark Lord Voldemort—"

Remus flinched, giving the blonde pause. When he remained quiet, the boy forged on. "—along with what happened in Yorkshire, in the Ironworkers Barn Guesthouses. Preventers have found the claims credible upon review of the evidence, and we are willing to cooperate with the Order of the Phoenix on this matter."

The boy paused again, and finally, Remus lifted his head in the silence to find blue eyes regarding him with the same strict calm Heero and Zero-Five had shown.

"Dumbledore has agreed to the terms for the cooperation," he said.

"The terms…?" Remus echoed in confusion.

The blonde stood from his seat then, and though his expression was gentle, his words were not.

"Duo Maxwell will be returned to Preventers custody, effective immediately."


"You won't be able to wear the Silver-cuff," Cordell said. "It will get in the way of the portkey and may just splinch you. Even you four can't grow limbs back that quickly… I think."

Heero snorted. The British Terran Magic Department Chief was inclined to a rather acidic countenance, but he was good at his job and seemed to take every turn of events with a bored eye. In some respects, he reminded Heero of Trowa.

The older man was stood next to a high table, where a single ring of metal no bigger than a steering wheel laid. A portkey, as had been explained to them, was another method of terran magical transportation, and one that would get them to the Order's safehouse where Duo currently resided.

Dumbledore had taken them aside and passed along the code that would grant them access – a sheet of paper where the address was written by the old wizard, before it was set afire once they had read it. The man himself was waiting alongside Une and Zechs. He'd already notified those under his command of their impending arrival, including one Sirius Black – an escaped convict and the titular scapegoat the terran wizards still being held in their cells had tried to blame.

Lupin and Tonks (returned to her true form on Dumbledore's orders) were beside Cordell, being watched carefully by all the Newtype agents they had on hand at the office. Dumbledore had already explained that they were being sent back to the Order's safehouse along with the four boys, who would be responsible for bringing Duo back to the Preventers office.

Tonks had just seemed confused by their ages. Lupin, on the other hand, wore resignation and a sort of paleness that kept his companion worried.

"We're ready," Quatre stated, turning to Une. They were all armed, of course; Lupin had eyed the gun at Heero's waist with such a despondent look that even Quatre had subtly pressed a hand to his heart, surely having felt something that Lupin's exhausted expression was smothering.

"The 'passcode' is 'lemon drops'," Dumbledore said, hesitating briefly over the unfamiliar word he had used.

Chief Officer Bay looked at him. Dumbledore continued smiling kindly.

Cordell wandlessly levitated the metallic ring, and Tonks and Lupin stepped forward to grab hold of it as the four pilots did the same. It rested coldly in his hand, Heero's grip perfectly controlled as to not break it.

"Lemon drops," came out in six different voices.

It was a brief but vastly uncomfortable trip, unlike anything Heero had experienced before; it was like he was being pushed through a very narrow tube that he should not have been able to fit through. It twisted him into what felt like a corkscrew, and had he not been who he was, the motion sickness of the movement experienced for the first time would have caught him off guard.

Instead, he landed on his feet with a heavy thud but upright, back still ramrod straight and grip unrelenting on the portkey. The other pilots mirrored his posture, and though Lupin looked no worse for wear, Tonks had stumbled and fallen backwards as soon as they had landed.

Heero disregarded her, his eyes glancing about the room they now found themselves in, dropping the metallic ring. The other pilots did much the same with the exception of Wufei, all moving only in order to position themselves with their back either to a wall or a comrade. Wufei grabbed the ring with both hands, pushing it so that his hands moved closer to each other, the ring shrinking to accommodate the motion. He then slipped it around his wrist when it was of appropriate size.

Lupin and Tonks eyed them askance. Lupin was the first to turn to the only other person present in the room – one Sirius Black.

"…Welcome back," Black croaked out. Lupin flashed him a tired smile.

Heero eyed the escaped convict, but then looked to Lupin. "Where is Duo Maxwell?"

"Don't you guys ever say anything else?" Tonks moaned, dusting herself off as she stood.

Wufei glowered at her. "You lied to us the first few times we asked," he said in a tone too cold to be even.

"First few thousand times you asked," Tonks retorted.

"He's this way," Lupin interrupted, presumably to stop an argument from breaking out. The scarred man led the way out of the room and up a set of stairs, Heero on his heels with Quatre right behind him. Black and Tonks were made to go after them, as both Trowa and Wufei indicated with nothing more than their eyes that they would be bringing up the rear.

Lupin pushed open a door on creaking hinges, entering the room and clearing the way so that Heero had a good view of the bed and who laid in it.

Finally, he thought. Duo. I'm here.

Heero stopped beside the bed, eyes taking in the sight hungrily. Those violet eyes he was so familiar with were closed, the slender frame moving with only the slowest of breaths. He was paler than he had been from when Heero had last seen him, the time spent shut up in the Order's safehouse likely doing him no good. His hair was gathered into an untidy braid done by inexperienced hands, a heavy dark blue comforter pulled up to his collarbone.

Heero reached out one hand and touched the side of Duo's neck gently.

"…Steady pulse," he reported, then grabbed a fistful of the comforter and tore it off to throw aside. The terran magic users let out a few noises of bewilderment, but were quick to quiet when they were ignored.

Heero unfastened the buttons on the robe Duo was dressed in, and didn't look back when an affronted sound emerged from Lupin's throat at the motion as he took a step closer as if to intervene. He did hear it as Trowa clicked the safety off his gun and aimed it at the back of the man's head, his words soft and even, "Do not take another step forward."

"We're checking for injuries," Quatre told the wizard, eyes still on Duo's lax body. And authenticity, Heero understood the silent command.

Duo's skin was warm with life under his touch, and though this did not rouse him, it was some small comfort. The scars matched, as did the contours of the body Heero knew so intimately; the scar on his right shoulder from a dodged bullet, the taut lines scraped down his torso from a crude remark made at an OZ interrogator's expense, a small mole on the inside of his thigh…

Heero gently stepped back from the bed with a short nod – physically, he was a match. Now it was Quatre's turn.

Quatre took a seat at the edge of the bed, brushing back a few errant strands of hair from Duo's closed eyelids. His fingers lingered there, pressed lightly against the prone boy's temples, and Quatre gave a soft exhale as he closed his eyes to gauge what he could feel.

It was not long. Quatre's eyes opened and he withdrew his hand, getting back to is feet in one fluid motion. Heero caught the way the blonde's hand slightly trembled before Quatre regained control of himself, and the blond looked back at him.

"It's him," he breathed out. "It's Duo."

Duo, body and soul.

Quatre was not smiling.

"You guys still didn't believe us?!" Tonks cried out from the hallway.

She was ignored as Wufei slipped the portkey from his wrist, pulling it so that it grew in size. He didn't stop even as it surpassed the size it had previously, instead holding out one end to Trowa to hold as he continued to pull it.

Finally, when it was elongated enough – more an oval than a circle now – Wufei stopped, flipping it flat and using wandless magic to bring the torn comforter to him, where he fastened it to the metal ring like a makeshift gurney.

Heero picked Duo up, placing him on the floating gurney-portkey hybrid. Wufei used two fingers to pull at the edge of the metal rim, and it flowed like liquid to follow his fingertips as he swept them across Duo's body – locking the motionless form in place. Once he was sure Duo would not shift in transit, he nodded in satisfaction.

Trowa put his gun away, and without a word, he moved to the bed and looked under it – pulling out Duo's duffel bag. Black's eyebrows rose in surprise but he said nothing as the green-eyed boy looked through the contents.

"Does he have any other belongings here?" Quatre asked.

"No," Lupin answered. "He… He traveled light."

They weren't surprised by that – habits died hard for them. Trowa found the priest collar he'd been searching for, checking it off the same mental list they all had for which belongings were deemed important to their circle. Duo's consisted of the cross that still hung around Heero's neck and the priest collar Trowa was tucking back into the duffel.

"Will you… let us know? If he's…" Lupin trailed off.

Trowa zipped closed the duffel bag, and as one they moved towards the portkey Wufei kept a grip on. "Dumbledore will be informed once Duo regains consciousness," the Chinese pilot stated. "It is up to him whether he passes that information along or not."

"You're taking him?" Black demanded, eyes glancing between the still boy on the gurney and Lupin's tense frame.

Quatre's response was not confrontational, but it was stern. "He needs a Newtype healer."

"When will he be returned?" That was also from Black.

Wufei scowled, "He's not yours to be returned to."

The three wizards looked annoyed by the dismissive way Wufei spoke to them. Heero, Trowa, and Quatre grabbed opposite ends of the oval so that there was a balance between them. It wasn't necessary as Wufei's magic is what kept it afloat, but it was a precaution in case the landing was not smooth.

"You were his boggart," Lupin said, looking Heero in the eye. "Not Death Eaters, not what he'd seen in the war – you."

Heero did not reply.

"Lemon drops."

The world twisted away from Heero's view, the cold metal in his hand feeling like a loaded gun.


Duo was put in an enhanced room on the seventh floor of the Preventers branch office, laid in a similarly mechanized bed. The panels in the wall opened to reveal a myriad of screens that translated the condition of his body to those inside, a mix of magic and muggle technology that kept the comatose boy under constant supervision.

Duo's wizard robes had been switched out for the usual hospital robe, and Heero had redone the braid so that it laid neatly on the bed, out of the way but tidy. Duo had not so much as twitched the entire time, eyes still behind his lids, breaths deep and slow.

"It's like he's trapped inside his own skin," Quatre explained, seated in the chair beside Duo's bed. "I can feel him trying to claw his way out, but I can't reach him and he can't hear me."

"Cordell is examining the magical object responsible for it," Wufei said. "But he's said it looks completely inactive – as if it needs a passcode to be turned on. Agent Gemini even touched it with his bare hands but there was no reaction." Gemini was a Level Two Newtype, so unless the object had gone inert after Duo had handled it, that should have been enough to activate whatever had caused Duo harm.

Physically, there was nothing wrong with Duo. There was a new scar that stretched like a bundle of miniscule lightning bolts from the palm of his left hand, scarring heavier along the thumb and index finger. Quatre had run a finger across it then recoiled, indicating this new scar as the result of Duo's altercation with the hostile magical object.

"He's in pain," Quatre murmured, holding Duo's hand in his own. The blonde could only feel Duo when they had skin contact, another symptom of the state Duo had fallen into. Quatre seemed to believe that by maintaining the contact, it alleviated Duo's pain in some way – but the strain it was starting to put on the boy was clear to them.

"Is there a way to get inside him?" Heero asked.

Duo would have cracked a dirty joke about the phrasing, had he been conscious. Heero tried not to dwell on that.

"Inside…" Wufei echoed in thought. He moved away from his position by the doorway and to Duo's other side, eyes contemplative. He reached out to pull back one eyelid, revealing dull violet eyes to the light of the room.

"Wufei?"

"Mind magic," Wufei explained briskly, now opening Duo's other eye. "Dumbledore mentioned them in his meeting with the Director. Occlumency is a magical defense of the mind, shielding the thoughts and memories of the caster.

"But Legilimency is the practice of penetrating and navigating through the thoughts and memories of another," he continued on. "If we can reach Duo and pull him to the surface that way, it may be enough to wake him."

"When did you learn legilimency?" Trowa asked.

"Not all of us spent our time raiding terran magical labs and adopting their experiments, Barton."

"We'd need to elicit a strong emotional response," Quatre mused. "The pain is sluggish, but it's capable of drowning him. He'll need to be snapped out of it, so to speak."

They looked to Heero. "…I don't know legilimency," he said after a moment's consideration. He'd learn it if that meant freeing Duo from whatever this was, but he didn't want to do more damage by throwing himself through Duo's mental walls recklessly.

Wufei snorted, "Obviously, Yuy, I will be the one driving."

"We'll keep guard," Quatre said, implying Trowa and himself. "Too many people would put more strain on both Duo and Wufei."

Heero looked to Wufei for direction as Trowa took up the post the Shenlong pilot had vacated minutes ago. Quatre stood as well, offering Heero his chair as he moved to the end of the bed, by Duo's feet – there to observe.

"I'll intervene if you need me," Quatre said to Wufei. The Chinese boy nodded, reaching one hand out to Heero. Heero looked at it stoically, the only sign of bafflement.

"I don't want to hold your hand either, Yuy, but we all must make sacrifices," Wufei explained dryly.

Heero rolled his eyes, ignoring Trowa's amused chuckle from the corner as he took Wufei's hand in his own. Wufei's free hand hovered over Duo's open eyes, hesitating as he looked back to Heero once more.

"This will likely hurt," he said, and then pressed his hand down over Duo's face.

Heero's vision blacked out.

This was not the result of pain or a sudden transportation, more like a blink taken just before all light ceased to exist from the world. His body felt weightless, floating amongst the expanse of dark, and disorientation rocked him as he tried to regain his bearings. Wufei's hold on his hand was the only thing keeping him centered, even if he could not see the other boy.

"Wu—"

"Hold on. I'm looking," came Wufei's disembodied voice. "Maxwell's mind isn't exactly easy to navigate."

Whatever Wufei was looking for, it didn't come without some cost. It started as light pinpricks across Heero's skin, as if someone were poking him with hundreds of needlepoints at once. It grew stronger but duller, more blunt in the pain – an ache that rippled across his body, indeterminate in origin but immense.

"He doesn't like us poking around in here," Wufei was explaining. "Bear with it."

Heero could do that. He'd have shorn off his own limbs without hesitation if it meant Duo would come back to them alive and well. The irony of it was not lost on him.

"…found it," was the only warning Heero had before he was slammed through space, breath knocked from his lungs. Wufei's hand followed the movement, but instead of arresting his momentum, shifted so that Heero ended up swinging in an arc like a baseball bat as Wufei tossed him to the side, letting him go to roll across the non-existent ground to a stop.

Heero was quick to regain his senses and then his feet, shooting a quick glare at Wufei who ignored him, keeping dark eyes trained in front of him. Heero followed the look, tensing briefly at the large form floating meters away, backlit by the distant stars.

"Deathscythe," Wufei murmured.

Deathscythe as it had been in it's last moments, prior to Trowa annihilating it in its entirely while deep undercover. Shrapnel and debris floated around it, a halo of destruction, untethered by gravity. It's left arm was missing, the entirety of its body damaged in one way or another, the circuitry open to the void in parts. It was unmoving, just like its pilot.

"Don't come."

That wasn't Wufei. There was no one else in view, and the voice had been too young to be Duo. It echoed in the space they shared, quiet and forceful, a threat and a plea rolled into one.

Heero took a step forward.

"Don't come."

Wufei followed him another step.

"Don't come."

The voice was growing deeper with every utterance; with every step, it grew more desperate, more manic – more familiar.

"Don't come," Duo – still young, younger than he had been – said again.

Deathscythe floated just before their fingers. There was no way to climb up, but this was not reality – this was in Duo's mind, and the braided boy had always enjoyed breaking the rules when he could. They leapt up, up, up – fingers gliding across Deathscythe's hull, keeping them on path to the hatch of the cockpit. It was already partly open when they reached it, and together, they pulled it open.

"DON'T COME!"

He was not inside – but the darkness was, and it surged forth on Duo's deafening final scream, knocking them away and extinguishing the stars from view. It spilled like liquid smoke into Heero's eyes, and no matter how he moved, he could not escape it.

He kept his mouth firmly shut, Quatre's warning about it being possible to feel drowned in mind. Instead, he shut his eyes and stopped moving, trying to feel with his other senses what may be happening outside the fog of black he was trapped in. He couldn't hear Wufei anymore, and if he was moving, there was no momentum he could feel in it.

He opened his eyes to gray.

The entire area was awash in it, like an antique television in realtime. Light poured in through the wide, dusty windows to his right, illuminating a gray cement floor, gray walls, gray remains of furniture and papers of unknown origin.

It looked to be an abandoned warehouse, in a state of such disrepair that it offered little to no shelter from the outside. It was devoid of life, yet no smell could be discerned – as if Heero had stepped through the TV screen and into an empty gray world. Black splotches littered the floor here and there, darker than any coat of paint could be, and Heero's eyes lingered on them from where he stood.

He didn't move, not yet, instead taking a moment to look around. He couldn't help the feeling that there should be color – even if this was not the outside world, it was still Duo, and Duo was anything but dull. This lack of color seemed wrong, unnatural, and it put Heero on edge to be in the midst of it.

He took a step, and beneath his feet, he heard a crunch. He stopped abruptly, looking down to see a cascade of shiny stars – tiny little candies, littered across the floor. They looked to be the ones served in the vending machines prevalent in some of the L-2 colonies, cheap and tasting like sweet dust.

He lifted his foot; the candies crushed beneath his heel oozed blood red.

Heero continued moving forward, ignored the way the candies crunched under him, ignored the way the black splotches grew and grew; the shapes were coherent in the corner of his eyes, no longer amorphous but recognizable for their small, human-like outlines.

There was a supply closet at the other end of the warehouse floor, door left ajar. It was dark inside, but as Heero drew closer, the better he could hear it: a wet, rattling breath, choked by the struggle needed to draw in air.

Heero knew what this was: Duo's memory of the L-2 Plague.

This had to be some form of it, likely twisted by the Dark magic that had come spilling out of Deathscythe's cockpit. Whatever this magic was, it was strong – strong enough to pervert even the worst and most well-guarded of Duo's memories.

Heero could understand then, what Quatre had meant when he said that this could drown Duo. False visions or memories the Deathscythe pilot could work through, too well-trained to fall for the lies of the enemy – but using Duo's own worst memories against him?

A warm weight pressed against his back.

Heero stopped moving. The person in the supply closet coughed wetly, letting out a low moan in the voice of a dying child.

"This is just a memory," Duo said from against his back. Heero could feel the press of the other boy's shoulder blades against his own, knew they were standing back to back. Duo's voice was- odd, seemingly too loud for a room so deeply steeped in death.

"Duo," Heero returned evenly. He wanted to turn around but didn't; he felt that if he tried, Duo would disappear.

Duo didn't seem to have even heard him. "Just another bad memory," the braided boy said. "I have a lot of those, don't I?"

Heero couldn't deny that. Duo knew his own mind, knew his own losses, knew his own grief. Duo had been fighting as long as Heero had, and although their battles at the beginning of their lives had not been the same, the pain had been.

The child in the supply closet heaved one last time and fell silent; black pooled beneath the crack under the door left ajar.

"You're also just another bad memory," Duo continued on.

Heero's fists clenched. "We've… shared good memories too," he argued softly.

"But they weren't enough, were they? Not for me, and not for you."

"Duo—"

"You tried to kill yourself, Heero."


A/N: I like that Heero and Remus are taking shots at each other. They're off to a great start~

-Preventers & the Order of the Phoenix: So clearly they're likely to ally, but that doesn't necessarily mean they trust each other; neither side is naïve enough to do so, especially with Duo in such a bad state. Quatre is more mild in his regard and is the one best suited to hold out the olive branch, but only so far until Duo is fully recovered.

-Occlumency and Legilimency: how they're used kind of has an AU quality to it. I really liked how they're described in other fanfics so that it's more a Mind Palace (mindscape/mental environment), so that's what I'll be using here. Naturally, everyone's is different, and you'll see a few different examples in the story. Duo's mindscape in this chapter, however, is under attack – so it's going to be messy, as seen with the black splotches. Wufei's ability with "mind magic" will also be further expanded on – Newtypes have their own variation, and hadn't realized it could fall under the umbrella of Legilimency or Occlumency until recently.

As always, please drop a review. Thanks!