A/N: For Crown of Winterthorne, as a bribe for more of her AMAZING Westworld 2x3 fic.
A/N2: Title from the song by Stars
A/N3: Always, always thankful to Ro for beta reading and friendship. You are amazing.
A/N4: Okay, here's the deal. Writing is tough, especially for me. Over the years I've been lucky to have incredible people support me and tell me how much they enjoy my work, but I've also had those comments and reviews that just completely derail me and make me wonder why the hell I'm doing any of this or why I'm enough of an idiot to think anyone would even care.
So, no, this is not an update on any of the many WIPs I have going, and if you don't enjoy this fic then I am sorry.
But if you do, even a little, I cannot express how much it means to me to see that someone took the time to leave a review. Even if that review is "thanks" - it has a HUGE impact.
I cannot say thank you enough to the people who have left reviews for this. I'm seriously touched and aflutter and so, so grateful.
A/N5: POVs are going to switch back and forth between Duo and Zechs. Might be two chapters in each or just one, depends on the pacing.
A/N6: Going to be a few days between this chapter and the next. I'm very sick and am struggling to work, take care of the fam and like, live.
Warnings: angst, language, violence, sex, death, blood
Pairings: 6x2, others…
Midnight Coward
Chapter Four
The waiting room was filled - not packed, like the train or the lobby at Preventers HQ, but almost every available seat was taken when Duo walked in at 12:10.
He'd taken a cab, something he hated doing, just to make sure he got here on time - just to prove he could.
With a sigh, he walked up to the receptionist.
"Duo Maxwell. I have an appointment with Dr. Marisi." He mumbled it, realizing in retrospect that if the woman asked him to repeat himself, it would be even worse.
But she just nodded and started to reach for a clipboard with papers attached to it.
"Of course. I just need you to fill these out, and a valid identification card and your insurance information."
More paperwork.
If Duo had known just how delightful today would prove, he would have gone another round with Merquise last night.
Duo passed over his ID and the insurance card that had been scanned and filed by nearly every hospital in the city.
He accepted the clipboard from the receptionist and surveyed the waiting room again.
The only available seat was beside a kid, some hollow-eyed teenager who was listlessly picking at the hem of her bulky sweater.
Duo swallowed hard and sat down beside her. She cringed away, and he resisted the urge to get up and just hold the clipboard against the wall.
Hell, he should have done that in the first place.
As quickly as he could, Duo filled out the forms, wondering what it said that he had to fill out more paperwork to see a psychologist than to be allowed into Preventers HQ.
When he stood up to take the forms up, the girl sighed in relief. Duo could hardly blame her.
He returned the clipboard to the receptionist, who gave him back his cards.
"Dr. Marisi's office is just down the hall - second door on the right," she said, and gestured towards the left.
Duo sighed.
At least he hadn't had to wait for an hour and a half.
Then again, if he had he could have tried to use that as an excuse for why he needed to skip the appointment.
Reluctantly, Duo followed her directions and stopped in front of an open door bearing a placard with Marisi's name on it.
The room looked… cozy.
There wasn't even a desk - just a couch, two arm chairs, a coffee table and walls lined with books.
It reminded Duo just a bit of Merquise's library.
Sitting in one of the armchairs, a large, dark-skinned man sat cross-legged, using his knee as a makeshift support for a notebook that he was writing in.
Duo rapped his knuckles against the door, and the man looked up.
He had an open face, his skin smooth and dark and without any blemishes. Duo found himself staring for a moment, found himself envying this large, soft man with his flawless skin. He had clearly never been in a firefight, never been in a fire, never had shrapnel embedded in his face. Probably never even been in a fight, judging by the perfect slope of his nose.
The man was so clearly a civilian, so clearly alien to Duo's entire world, that Duo immediately felt as if he was on uneven ground.
"Dr. Marisi?" His voice actually broke.
The man smiled slightly and stood up, setting the notebook down on the coffee table.
"Yes - you must be Mr. Maxwell?"
"Duo."
"Duo," Marisi agreed, and held out one hand, just as soft and smooth as his face.
Duo shook it quickly and then shoved his hands into his pockets.
"Please," Marisi gestured, taking in the couch and the armchairs, "sit. I was going to get a fresh cup of coffee before we begin - would you like one as well?"
"Yes," Duo practically moaned.
Marisi smiled again.
"Don't get too excited - it's only decaf."
Duo made a face.
"But, if I put enough sugar in it, we can at least pretend, eh?" Marisi chuckled, and Duo nodded cautiously.
Marisi walked out of the room, and Duo settled himself on the edge of one of the couch cushions, as close to the door as he could get.
A moment later, Marisi returned, bearing two steaming paper cups.
"Here we are." He handed one to Duo before turning and closing the door.
Duo took a sip, and then coughed.
It tasted like Marisi had dumped a pound of sugar into it.
"I might have gone a little overboard," Marisi shrugged.
Duo coughed again, and then forced himself to take another sip.
"It's fine," he lied.
Marisi arched an eyebrow at that, but he resumed his seat in the armchair.
"Well, Duo, what brings you into my office today?"
Duo stared at him.
"I was ordered to get a psych evaluation."
"Yes, yes, but why?"
Duo scowled.
"Because the Preventers want to cover their asses?"
Marisi didn't look amused.
"I have a file on you, with so much redacted information that the damn thing might as well be a Mad Libs game."
Duo smirked against his will at that, thinking of just how many blacked-out words, sentences, and hell, whole paragraphs, a file on him might contain.
"I'm not as concerned with what I can't know about you as I am with what I do know about you."
Duo stiffened.
Here we go.
He wondered where Marisi was from - wondered who he loved that Duo had killed.
"You were reassigned to the New York Preventers station after you were attacked by agents at the Brussels office."
Duo blinked in surprise. How the hell had that not been redacted?
"And, more recently, you were placed on administrative leave following an altercation between you and six agents from the New York office."
"Seven," Duo corrected him.
Marisi looked at him steadily for a moment.
"Why would you want to return to work at an agency where you have not once, not twice, but three times - maybe even more - been attacked by fellow agents?"
"Well, they were probably justified."
"That's not what the disciplinary notes in your file suggest."
Duo shrugged.
"Duo, what do you enjoy about being a Preventers agent?"
"Enjoy?" Duo had to snort. "It's not… it's not a job you enjoy doing. I mean - am I supposed to enjoy killing people? Firing my gun? Discovering just how fucked-up humanity is? Remembering just how broken the bureaucracy is?"
"Perhaps you enjoy administering justice? Protecting innocent people?"
Duo sighed.
"Sure."
"Sure?"
"That's not really something I can enjoy, is it? It's… it's my duty. It's what I'm supposed to do. I'd enjoy it if I didn't have to do it."
Marisi's gaze was so steady, so unwavering and neutral.
"What about you? What do you enjoy about trauma and recovery?"
"I enjoy helping people understand themselves better. I enjoy guiding people towards a healthier, more fulfilling relationship with themselves and the world."
Duo snorted. It sounded like the words on some pamphlet.
"There's a girl in the lobby, some kid who looks like her whole life is the most excruciating nightmare ever conceived. You enjoy listening to her spill her guts to you?"
"I don't derive pleasure from the things that torment her. I derive pleasure from her progress in confronting them. Therapy isn't easy work. It reveals the worst in ourselves, in others, and it takes great strength to overcome and grow."
"Yeah, well, same with working for the Preventers. Anyone who enjoys working there is…" Duo shook his head and grimaced, remembering the Alliance officers he had fought against as a child, the mercenaries, the rebels. All of the people who enjoyed killing civilians.
"What do you enjoy?"
The question took Duo by surprise.
"What?"
"You don't enjoy working for the Preventers. What do you enjoy? What things in your life give you pleasure?"
"Not decaf coffee," Duo muttered, before taking another sip from the paper cup.
"No, I don't know many people who do genuinely enjoy it," Marisi agreed.
He sat, silent and waiting, for Duo to answer.
"Things. I enjoy stuff."
Duo, however, was having a hard time coming up with anything.
"What was the last thing you did that you enjoyed?"
It was disturbingly easy to come up with an answer to that question.
But he was fairly certain that if he told Marisi that the last thing he had enjoyed doing was fighting with Zechs Merquise in his library, Duo would have no hope of passing the psych evaluation.
He tried to think back further, tried to remember the last thing he had done and enjoyed doing - something that had provided more than mere satisfaction for completing a task.
"Look, what does this have to do with my work, anyway? Shouldn't you be asking questions about my mental state?"
"I am."
"I mean, as it relates to my job? Shouldn't you be asking more important questions?"
Marisi folded his hands together in his lap and leaned back in his chair. He seemed so comfortable and at ease, so unconcerned by Duo's growing agitation.
"What questions do you think I should be asking?"
"I don't know, something that isn't about me being happy? Something about whether or not I can deal with the stress or pressure or whatever at work? Something about anxiety or- I mean, isn't it your job to figure out if I can still do it?"
"Alright. When you think about returning to work at Preventers, do you feel anxious?"
"No," Duo answered honestly. It was the idea of not returning that freaked him out.
"And do you think that you can make rational, logical decisions still while under physical and mental pressure?"
"Of course." He'd been able to do that for as long as he could remember. That was the easy part - it was all the shit that came after, dealing with the fallout of what he had to do, that Duo struggled with. That he ran from.
"And what was your last question? Something about still being able to-"
"Can I still do the job?"
Marisi nodded.
"And can you?"
"Yeah, I can still do the fucking job. I've always been able to do the job."
Marisi nodded again.
"And could you kill Kate Munoz again?"
The question froze Duo, brought his entire brain to a halt, and it felt like his heart skipped a beat.
"Could you kill Kate Munoz again? If you found yourself in that same situation, could you still do it?"
Duo's mouth felt as dry as the Martian planes. He rubbed his hands over his thighs, but he forced himself to keep eye contact with Marisi.
"How do you know about her? That wasn't redacted?"
"Oh, it was, the first time they sent over your file a month ago."
Duo frowned.
"That doesn't make any sense."
"I agree, which is why I called your superior and told him that if there was any hope of working with you in therapy, I needed to know what, exactly, had led up to you being put on administrative leave. There was a bit of back and forth, but he finally sent over a slightly less redacted file."
"But- I only just started back today. Why did they send my file over a month ago?"
"I believe there was some discussion about you coming back earlier." Marisi shrugged. "I'm not privy to why the decision was made to prolong your leave - I certainly wasn't consulted."
That was a lot for Duo to process. He wondered - hell, he had so many questions now. Who had wanted him back? Not Wufei. Une? That seemed unlikely. Trowa? Why would he even care? And who had argued for him to remain on leave?
"Those were your words, however, not mine."
Marisi's statement only confused Duo more.
"What?"
"You said you killed Kate Munoz. But the documents from your hearing - the testimony of other agents at the scene and after - all state that you did not kill her. Even some of the agents who attacked you after the hearing gave statements to that effect."
"I as good as killed her."
"Did you?"
Duo glared at him.
"You've got the file. You know what happened."
"I do. Well, at least I know what happened according to everyone else. Why don't you tell me your version of events?"
"You mean the truth?" Duo snarled.
Marisi gave him a placating shrug.
"Yes. Please."
It wasn't hard, recalling that night seven weeks ago. The memory was always there, always just on the surface of Duo's conscience.
"There was a sting operation. We were targeting- that part's probably still redacted?"
Marisi nodded in agreement.
Duo wasn't surprised. He had been following the half-dozen trials in the newspapers, and there were still several to go. Even if Kate Munoz hadn't died on the op, the details of it would remain classified for a very, very long time.
"Right, well, we were targeting an international smuggling operation and this was our first real shot - a clean shot, a good shot - of taking out the leadership. The intel was good, and everything was fucking perfect. The smugglers' security loops were like clockwork, and it was- god, it was setting up to be such a clean op."
"So what happened?"
"Kate and I were tasked with securing the south perimeter of the compound while the go team prepped to launch. It was…"
It had been easy. There had been no comms, but he and Kate had been grateful for the radio silence. They had passed the time trading stupid jokes about spacers. Kate had told Duo all of the things her son, six-month-old Henry David, had started trying to put into his mouth. It was shaping up to be a monumentally-dull night, where everyone else got to take down bad guys and he and Kate got to twiddle their thumbs.
"One of the smugglers came outside to smoke. It wasn't part of the routine and- and it took us by surprise. He saw Kate and she did what she was supposed to. She took him out quick and quiet. But he was armed and he stabbed her." Duo felt the familiar slick, bitter taste of bile in his throat as he remembered her wide eyes, her hands going to the tear in the fabric of her black tactical uniform.
Duo scrubbed at his eyes.
"The smugglers' security patrol was due to swing by in a minute, minute thirty tops. So I dumped the guy's body and I got Kate out of sight."
She had been in so much pain, clutching her abdomen, her face pale, tears streaking over her cheeks and her breath coming in stuttering, agonizing gasps.
"I couldn't radio for help. And I couldn't- we couldn't retreat from out position without risking the op being blown."
The seconds had ticked by, and when they heard the approaching voices of the smuggler patrol, Kate had whimpered in fear and then started to cry, in shock from blood loss, her sobs loud enough that Duo had panicked.
"The op- this thing had been in the works for years. We'd lost so many agents going after these fuckers, and this was it. I couldn't- I had to keep her quiet. She was in so much pain and she couldn't-" Duo paused and drew in a deep breath. "I kept her still, and I put my hand over her mouth so she wouldn't give away our position. And she bled out and died."
"I killed her," he continued. "Whatever shit anyone else said, I'm the reason she died."
"Hm."
Duo glared over at Marisi, at his soft face.
"What?"
"You think it was entirely your fault that Kate Munoz is dead?"
"That's what I just said," Duo ground out.
"What about the smuggler who stabbed her?"
"What?"
"Well, if he hadn't stabbed her, she would, presumably, not have died."
Duo continued to glare at him, but Marisi seemed completely unperturbed by a look that usually sent people scurrying in fear.
"And what about Agent Munoz? She has no culpability in her own death?"
"Are you saying it's her fault that she died?" Duo had to grip the couch cushions to keep himself from getting up. "Kate was good. She was a great fucking agent. She was smart and quick and-"
"She made the choice to eliminate a threat. She weighed the risks and acted. She did her job. But somehow, none of what she was - smart, quick, good - none of that matters in the face of your guilt. You've said how important this operation was - surely she realized that too. You made a choice to preserve the mission integrity - but she did as well."
Marisi didn't get it.
"She shouldn't have died. She- I was her friend. She trusted me, and I-"
"Duo, if you had to die a painful death, wouldn't you want to have a trusted friend there beside you, holding you?"
"I wasn't fucking holding her; I was trying to keep her from giving away our position. I wasn't her friend when I did that. I didn't tell her she was going to be okay; I didn't comfort her or hold her. I kept her still and quiet while she died."
"I see."
But Marisi's expression hadn't changed. There was no fear in his eyes, no revulsion. He still didn't get it.
"Then let me ask my question again; would you do it again?"
"Yes."
There was a flicker of something behind Marisi's eyes. Something Duo couldn't define, and something he was afraid to think too much about.
"I will have my office send over the evaluation to your superior at Preventers," Marisi said.
"Wh- what?"
The abruptness of Marisi's statement left him reeling.
So this was it. The end of his career.
"Hm. I'm clearing you for active duty, pending, of course, that you attend weekly sessions with me."
"What?"
Marisi stood up, and Duo reflexively did the same.
"There's something I want you to consider, before our next meeting."
Duo was sure he would be considering a lot of things before their next meeting - not the least of which was how to never have it.
Still, he remained silent and arched an eyebrow.
"How much longer do you intend to work for the Preventers?"
"What?" Duo was getting irritated with himself for repeating the word so much.
"Five years? Ten? Twenty? Fifty?"
Fifty years.
The very thought left Duo feeling sick. Fifty years of this?
"Duo, how many more times will you be able to kill Kate Munoz over the next fifty years?"
Marisi didn't wait for a response, but walked over to the door and opened it. He gestured for Duo to leave.
"I will have my assistant call tomorrow to set up our next appointment."
Duo left the office in a haze, so wrapped up in that question, in that nightmare, that he didn't even remember to get coffee before he went back to Preventers HQ.
He went through the staff line, retrieving his visitor badge from his back pocket and flashing it before putting it back in his pocket and merging into the line for the elevator.
"He's in a meeting," Steve said as soon as Duo walked into the room.
Duo gave him a steady look, and Steve reached over to the intercom.
"Sir, Agent Maxwell is back."
"I'll be right out."
A moment later, the door to Wufei's office opened.
But it wasn't Wufei who stepped out, it was Han Reynolds.
Duo stared at him, and Reynolds stared right back.
He was a former Alliance officer, one of the handful of decent ones Duo had ever met. A good guy, tall and broad, middle age just starting to round the hard line of his jaw.
Wufei stepped forward.
"Is there going to be a problem?"
A muscle in Reynold's cheek jumped.
"I've already lodged a formal complaint against him, and you've already dismissed it."
"There was a hearing," Wufei said, sounding as if he had lost patience with humanity ten years ago.
"With all due respect, sir, none of my team want anything to do with him. If he's assigned a partner from the third floor, I can't guarantee that anyone will trust him."
"Pretty sure you're going to do your damndest to do the opposite," Duo muttered.
Reynolds took a step forward, and Duo matched it.
"Stand down," Wufei barked.
Reynolds flinched at the tone. Despite his youth, Wufei was respected - revered and feared - by the New York office. Duo had never heard him use that tone on anyone besides himself, and he imagined Reynolds was about ready to piss himself.
He fought to kill the smirk that thought brought to his lips. Not quickly enough, though.
Reynolds saw it, and his eyes narrowed.
"Duo isn't going to be working with a partner," Wufei said, his voice still chilly.
"I'm not?"
"You don't need one for your current assignment."
"And none of us need to bury another good agent," Reynolds growled.
"Hey Han, I'm about to go get my field recertification taken care of - why don't you grab six of your buddies and meet me in the gym so I can get a refresher on hand-to-hand? Then again, maybe you should bring a few more. Seven of you wasn't really enough, last time, was it?"
Wufei stepped between them, shoving Duo away with one hand, hard enough that he stumbled and nearly lost his balance.
"Agent Reynolds, we're done here."
Reynolds glared at Duo as he walked away, Duo glaring right back.
When he was finally out of sight, Duo turned the glare on Wufei.
"Well?"
Wufei arched an eyebrow.
"Well, what?"
"I did your damn psych eval. Where do I go for recertification?"
Wufei sighed.
"You don't have to do this today."
"I thought you wanted the Zechs thing handled quickly?"
Wufei pursed his lips.
"I'm sure the therapy session wasn't… pleasant. You might want some time to organize your thoughts?"
It had been the opposite of pleasant, and Duo was pretty sure that more time to organize his thoughts was only going to reinforce that.
How many more times will you be able to kill Kate Munoz over the next fifty years?
"I want this over with. What do I need to be recertified for?"
"Just your weapon. You can get the PT done next week." Wufei's gaze flicked down to Duo's throat. "And I'll give you a temporary ID. We can do a new one, with a new photo, next week too."
"Great," Duo growled. "So I'm headed to the basement? Charlie expecting me?"
Wufei turned and nodded at Steve, who picked up his phone.
"She'll be notified that we're coming."
"We? For the love of fuck, Wufei, you don't need to supervise me on a shooting range."
But Wufei shadowed him to the elevator, dark gaze implacable.
When they stepped out onto the third sub-level, the 'basement' as most agents called it, Duo drew in a deep breath. This smell was so very familiar to him.
Not as raw or as rich as a real battlefield, but it carried something of it, and Duo felt more grounded than he had in weeks. Certainly all day.
An olive-skinned woman with cropped hair was waiting for them at the shooting range.
"Charlie," Duo greeted her.
She offered him a small, sad little smile.
She and Kate had been close. She and Duo had been close.
"Duo, it's…" she trailed off, clearly struggling with what to say.
"He needs to get recertified," Wufei said after the silence had grown awkward.
"Right, of course. I'll get everything set up."
The first part was cake, even with Wufei breathing over his shoulder. Weapons identification, assembly and disassembly - Duo literally could have done it in his sleep. It was, in fact, one of those things he played over and over in his mind to drown out all of his memories so he could sleep.
Then it was on to the firing range. Duo adjusted his safety glasses and hearing protection before picking up the standard service weapon, a slim Heckler & Koch. Duo preferred the FN Five SeveN, and he knew Wufei had a stash of Berettas.
He remembered the first day he had met Kate. It had been down here, at the range.
There had been a bet, between her and Reynolds. She had still been a rookie, had just had her training officer ask for her to be reassigned because she was too much of a pain in his ass, and Reynolds had made some comment on her form, something that Duo had thought was genuinely meant to instruct, but Kate had taken as a personal challenge. She'd capped five targets in a row to Reynolds' four, taking her time counting out the ten creds that Reynolds passed over and smirking the whole time. She'd immediately lost them to Duo, who had stepped up and suggested she should stop being smug about taking lunch money from Alliance scrubs. He had put in a request to become her new TO after that, and she had been partnered with him ever since.
Until her death.
How many more times will you be able to kill Kate Munoz over the next fifty years?
Duo sighted along the barrel of the H&K and put the entire clip into the chest of the target.
He did it again two more times, and then put down the gun and arched an eyebrow at Wufei and Charlie.
"We good?"
Charlie nodded slowly, but Wufei had that troubled look on his face, that expression of doubt that Duo hated having directed at him.
"Then I need that temp ID so I can go talk to Jasmin in forensics."
-o-
TBC - back to Zechs POV next chapter