Chapter 3

The sound of someone standing in the doorway made me raise my head unenthusiastically.

"We have another mission." It was Heero. Gods, even he looked damn tired.

"Again? We just got back a few hours ago..." I couldn't keep the pleading tone from my voice. Four months of nothing but missions and we were all dead tired. Ready to collapse. Too tired to even snarl at each other. I thought that if I had to blow up another building, I'd go mad.

"Hai." He must really be tired; he's slipping into Japanese.

I groaned.

"It's for all five of us."

"Joy," I grumbled.

"Another Oz base. Mission orders: to disable their Leos."

I grunted and pulled myself up. Even that drained my frighteningly small reserve of energy.

We stumbled to where the other three pilots waited; I assumed they'd already been informed of the situation.

I nodded to Quatre and the others, and they followed us silently to the Gundams.

We were all in a state of total exhaustion; talking was an effort we weren't prepared to make.

I powered up Deathscythe listlessly to the sound of the others preparing their Gundams, and we all got ready to launch.

I let my thoughts wander for just a moment, and to mourn over the fact that I hadn't seen any of Heero's eye smiles since we first started this grueling, never-ending train of missions.

Oz forces had finally marshaled their troops, and the results weren't pretty. Four months of buzzing from world to world like our butts were on fire...silently, I implored somebody, anybody, to give us a week of rest to just sleep.

Our journey passed in a dizzying blur, and I don't even remember blowing the Leos into the sky.

I do remember, however, in a moment of startling clarity, watching the metal explode in a burst of sparks, that we had forgotten to plan an escape route.

In that moment, I cursed ourselves, Oz, and the mad scientists who drained their little soldiers so much we could forget something so basic. Okay, that's it. After this, we're going to get a break, or I swear I'll go up there and break their necks.

Everyone else, apparently, realized this the same time I did, and, in a mad scramble, we agreed to split up and meet back in the little hut next to where our Gundams were hidden.

The gods really must hate me. Have I mentioned that? I think I have. Everywhere I turned, the enemies were there, nonchalantly smoking cigarettes, staring stonily straight ahead, chatting with each other amiably. It was seriously freaking me out.

I ducked, and dodged, and employed all my formidable stealth tactics to no avail.

No matter what I did, I couldn't avoid all of the Ozzies. There were several wild skirmishes between me and an odd few Oz soldiers patrolling the base. I flew at them with the last of my flagging energy, and as I ran on, I noted how my breath seemed to be coming far too quickly for a simple mile run. I wrote it off as a side effect of fatigue.

The hut came into view, and I nearly sobbed from relief. I slipped past the door as inconspicuously as possible, and just leaned against the wall for a moment. My legs were trembling.

Heero, Trowa, and Chang Wufei were already there, and all seemed to be in various poses of exhaustion. They didn't even look up when I came in. Bad signs.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Quatre staggered in.

For a moment, he seemed like he was going to just slide to the floor and drift away, but he lifted his head to give me a weary grin.

I struggled to pull my facial muscles into something that could pass for a smile, and then watched in surprise as the grin broke from Quatre's face.

"Duo?" He breathed.

I tried to open my mouth, really, I did, but my jaws didn't seem to be obeying my brain's feeble prodding.

"Duo?" This time his voice had a frantic tone to it.

At that, the other three gamely lifted their heads, and I stared in shock as identical expressions of horror washed over their faces, even Heero's. Wow, I thought irrelevantly, he must be ready to drop. He's actually showing expressions on his face.

"'m alrigh'." Funny. My tongue didn't seem to be working right. Their expressions didn't change. I frowned. Or I think I did. Maybe they didn't believe me. Maybe I should say it again.

"Duo," Trowa said quietly, as if afraid I'd bolt, "you're covered in blood."

I looked down at myself. Well, so he was right. How strange. I didn't even remember being shot. I attempted to take stock of my injuries. Uh...maybe one in the thigh, and maybe one on my collarbone...

And then our attentions were diverted by the sound of pounding feet...right outside.

Chang Wufei blurted one breathy expletive and struggled to his feet.

The door was flung open in the next minute, and all of a sudden, there was a harsh voice yelling something, and bright light pouring from behind him. I cringed and tried to curl in on myself.

Damn. Oz soldiers. How the hell did they find us?

Then I saw their guns, and I was frozen, certain that they we were going to die. We were going to die soon, and painfully at the hands of Oz if I didn't do something. Other Duo sat, rocking in a shadowy corner of my mind, jabbering frantically, We're gonna die, we're gonna die. Die, die, die! I smacked him, trying to knock him out of it, but he was just reduced to moaning inarticulately.

My eyes lighted upon a shaggy black beard right then, and I was unexpectedly, painfully, reminded of a possum. Two words struck a chord in my brain...play dead.

A painfully crazy idea caught hold of me right then. Don't blame me. I was so tired my brain could barely string sentences together coherently. To tell the truth, it was really, very straightforward. They had to kill me because I was a burden. Yep, made perfect sense to me. I was covered in blood, after all. Then, after they tried to kill me, I could find them and destroy them. I wondered at myself. Why couldn't I think of such amazing ideas when I wasn't dead tired?

Soft clanking drew my attention and I watched the others' hands being clapped in irons in dismay. Belatedly remembering my plan, I hid my gun behind my back. Then, as the guy neared my wall, I slumped. It was almost too easy to just collapse on the ground.

There was a muffled curse and I think I heard Quatre squeak.

As if from a great distance, I heard the sounds of people conferring urgently above me. The sounds filtered in and out of my consciousness.

"...hasn't got a chance..." Fuzzily, I remembered a guy with thick carry him..."

"...lost too much blood...moving him would be fatal..."

"...would you suggest..." This guy, then, was probably the leader of the soldiers nearby. Looking up, I could hazily make out the outline of a bushy black beard. I was taken with the absurd urge to giggle.

"...kill him now..."

I struggled to hide a grin. Yes, that's it. Now go away and leave me alone with my executioner.

I know my thoughts weren't really rational then, but, like I said, I was faint from blood loss and exhaustion. Give me a break.

I tried to lie there as limply as possible, and made myself breathe harshly, like I had blood in my lungs or something. My thoughts circled each other frantically, trying to concoct some reason to make them leave me.

The whole key to this harebrained scheme was for me to appear so harmless and barely able to move that they didn't even search me. Was it working? Probably. And it was far too close to the truth.

I was brought back to the present by the sound of a gun cocking. Alarmingly close to my head.

I raised my eyes slowly...only to stare into a black, forbidding barrel. Yikes. Brings 'staring into the face of death' into a whole new perspective.

"Wait." I winced. Gods, I really did sound like I couldn't raise a finger, much less defend myself against a gun in my face. I looked towards the general area where I imagined Bushy Beard stood and pleaded, "Please, not in front of them."

Quatre made a little choked noise. I was afraid to look at them, afraid if they saw me, they'd see that it was all just a ruse, and I needed them to be believable. Quatre was just...too open.

For a moment, I was afraid he wouldn't grant my request.

Then he rumbled to Mr. Sunglasses, who protested, but was overruled. I decided Mr. Sunglasses didn't like me very much.

A radio crackled insistently into life, and for a moment, all I heard was static weaving around an irritated voice. Bushy Beard cursed. I rose out of the grey place I was partially drifting in to hear him say, "Take care of him. You'll catch up to us later."

Dimly, I heard Mr. Sunglasses agree, and then I totally fell into the grey.

I recovered consciousness a bare minute later, but it scared the life out of me. I really couldn't relax like this. If I let myself slip away right now...I would die, and they would die.

We were alone in the hut, and Mr. Sunglasses had the gun back in my face.

Fortunately, he was holding it loosely, or what I was going to attempt would only land me a hole in the ground.

Marshaling my strength, I breathed deeply, and then erupted into movement.

He was so surprised he didn't even fire the gun. In that moment of shock, I had my gun up and pointed at his head.

He turned, slowly, too slowly, eyes widening behind those ridiculously large frames, and I blew his brains away.

For a while, all I could do was stand there, and think, I actually did it!

Somewhere in my mind, Other Duo was huddling in a small ball, shaking and refusing to open his eyes. I ignored him.

But then I thought of trying to catch up with a bunch of healthy soldiers and wanted to just crumple to the ground and sleep forever.

Unbidden, an image of the other guys flashed in front of me.

Chang Wufei, who I'd fought so long for respect.

Trowa, who was like an older brother. Sort of in the background, but always there when you needed him.

Quatre, sunny little Quatre. My stand-in little brother.

Heero, who had the most beautiful smiles I'd ever seen.

All of a sudden, I knew what I had to do. I had to call on Shinigami. The other part of me. The stronger part, the crueler part. The part I blocked away except for battle. And that was only a sliver of him.

This time, I'd have to surrender more control than I'd ever thought of giving. I could barely move; he could ignore the injuries and tiredness. I wouldn't be able to wipe out an entire squadron of soldiers; he could do it, and do it with glee.

Even as I prepared myself, I hesitated. Brutally, my mind supplied visions of them dying in countless awful ways, and my heart shuddered at the very idea. To never see Heero eye-smile at me would be akin to dying, and the thought of never being able to ruffle Quatre's hair again just really tore at me.

I opened the doors of my mind, and invited him in. He came in excitedly, in a whirlwind of darkness and blood and adrenaline.

I retreated to the back of my mind, and let him take the reins. I could feel the energy flooding my battered body, and the pain that I hadn't even realized I'd been feeling was wiped out in an instant.

He flung open the door, and raced out, using my body with such grace I could scarcely believe it was me.

Trees flashed by in a blur, and as he lifted his nose to sniff the air, I was eerily reminded of a hunting dog, a deadly, eager one.

We grew near our prey, the sounds of their feet reaching my ears.

Shinigami became quiet, flitting from tree to tree, staying hidden. When they came within view, his triumphant howl resounded in my mind.

I retained enough control to warn him not to harm the four Gundam pilots. He agreed, reluctantly, but sent me images of tearing the others apart. I recoiled from his bloodlust. It'd been too long since I'd let him free rein. His humanity, if he'd had any, was drowned out by his love of the fight and the scent of blood. He was practically a damn vampire.

Then he was on them, and he disposed of three of them without anybody noticing. It was a small squadron...not more than a dozen soldiers.

Heero was the first to notice him, and his blue eyes widened to an impossible extent and I saw the smile again. Even with Shinigami present, I couldn't help but respond. I smiled back with my own eyes, a smile that I hoped conveyed all my joy at finding them still alive.

Then Heero pretended to stumble, and when the soldier holding his arm was off guard, kicked him in the nuts.

Ouch.

He couldn't help it then; Shinigami let loose with that laugh which makes my blood run cold. I noticed all the Gundam pilots' heads whipping towards me at the sound, and caught a glimpse of relieved eyes, before Shinigami nailed another guard with a knife in the nose.

Abruptly, it was a tumult of curses and blood and whirling human flesh.

Then it was Bushy Beard in front of me, and I watched sadly as he stared at me, comically surprised with a hole in his gut.

Shinigami merely sneered and remarked to me how kindness was not a soldierly trait.

I told him to go copulate with himself.

It was over far too soon for Shinigami. I forced him back, and stuffed him in the room in the back of my head that I mark with danger signs and caution tape.

Bending stiffly, I removed the keys to the others' chains from the dead guy's belt, and unlocked Chang Wufei's first.

I must've looked pretty damn bad, because he took them from me gently, and told me he'd unlock the others. I think I nodded.

Suddenly, Quatre was there, and barreling into me with a huge bear hug. I staggered back from the force of the blow, and patted his back dazedly.

He mumbled incoherently into my shoulder, and I soothed, "I'm not dead, I'm here. I'm alive. Don't worry, Quatre. I'm not dead."

He raised his head to look at me with red eyes and blurted, "When we heard the gunshot..." His face crumpled again.

Okay, I admit it. I panicked, alright? I was bone tired, and hurting; I had an armful of sobbing Quatre, and I had no idea what to do. What the hell do I do NOW?

Looking at Trowa, I entreated him silently to take Quatre because I wasn't sure how long I was going to be able to stand on my own two feet.

Quatre clung to me like a limpet, and it took quite an effort to loosen his hold.

Trowa took him by the arm compellingly and he slowly let go of me.

"I'm all right," I told him again.

Then he moved away, and I almost swayed. And somehow, unbeknownst to me, Chang Wufei and Heero were there, flanking me, each taking an elbow. I blinked at them.

"C'mon," Chang Wufei said, for once without a hint of derision in his voice, "let's get you back."

I grinned tiredly at him, and they steered me gently towards our Gundams. At least, and I thanked God for small measures, they weren't too far away. I felt unsteady enough after that short walk. The blood trickling down my pants was getting really uncomfortable. I didn't really like thinking about it, though, 'cause if I did, I'd probably faint or do something equally undignified.

I looked at Deathscythe apprehensively. When Heero looked like he was going to ask me if I wanted him to carry me, I said forcefully, "I'll be okay. I can pilot until we get back to the safehouse." I tried to summon a confident grin.

They didn't...look convinced.

Trowa folded his arms. "You look terrible," he informed me. "How much of that is your blood?"

"Uh, not all?" I offered.

Chang Wufei snorted at me.

"Really, it's not that bad. I just splattered blood all over the place, and I wasn't even hit. I'm just tired." Well, I comforted my conscience, not hit then. And it really isn't that bad. I'm not dead yet, see.

Quatre said, a little accusingly, "But what about back there?" He jerked his head. "In the house?"

"It was just an act," I assured him, "I wasn't hurt nearly as bad." I really didn't have a hole in my lung, I informed the part of me that shrunk violently at the thought of lying. Just to be more believable, I added, "And most of the blood was from other people."

They were looking at me really strangely now, and Quatre said, with just a bit of awe, "But it really seemed like you were d-dying."

I grinned at him and shrugged. "They always said I should've been an actor."

They still didn't look persuaded, but their anxious looks relaxed a fraction. I was extremely grateful that we were all so tired it didn't take much to sway us.

"C'mon," I said, trying to tease a smile out of their too-serious faces, "I'll make sure I don't collapse until we've landed."

Nobody smiled.

Finally, I just said, "You guys look ready to drop too, you know. There's no way any of you are going to be able to take care of me and yourself at the same time. Just trust me until we get out of here, okay?"

There was a moment while they deliberated over my words, and then nodded unwillingly.

Somehow, I clambered into my cockpit, and somehow, I squeezed my energy sponge hard enough to wring out a few last licks that got me from that Oz base, through space, and to the landing.

Unfortunately, then I had to convince my unruly body to unpeel itself from the chair. It listened to me really, really, grudgingly. I had the feeling I wouldn't be able to walk for days without wincing over a powerful ache in my muscles.

I lowered myself to the ground clumsily, and tried to ignore the clouds of grey and white that were encroaching on my vision. Whoa. A black thundercloud decided to make an appearance and was quickly taking over the fluffy white ones.

The others were staring at me with barely concealed concern, and I croaked, "Almost there." Was that my voice? It sounded like I need good oil job to smooth the creaking.

I started walking, and after some hesitation, they followed. Their eyes were burning holes in my back, so I ignored them and just concentrated on walking in a straight line.

I narrowly avoided a pole, and then the vision of that drunk guy who smashed into one flickered into my head.

I started chuckling, and soon enough, I had to stop to lean against the pole, my body shaking with muffled snickers.

Okay, now the guys were probably really worried.

Recovering control over my treacherous sense of humor, I rasped, "I'm sorry. I'm okay."

I didn't look at them; didn't want to see the wide-eyed looks they were most likely sending my way.

Yep, they were probably thinking, he's totally lost it.

I straightened and the black almost sucked me in. "Damn," I muttered.

It took forever to get to our safehouse, and by the time we were there, I was holding onto consciousness only by the last vestiges of my will. Spots. I was seeing spots. If I recall correctly, you're not supposed to be seeing spots when you're eyes are open.

I could literally feel them hovering over me. I managed to give them a strained smile.

We walked in...and then it happened. I fainted. I was gone before I even hit the floor.

I regained consciousness a moment later, and peered blearily at four big blobs floating above my head.

I blinked and it cleared a bit. Heero looked strangely pale...in fact, they all looked kind of white.

I summoned up another grin. Damn, but I really was dipping into my reservoir of smiles today.

Quatre spoke, and it echoed strangely in my ears, "The doctor's coming over. He'll be here in a few minutes."

Doctor? Oh right, doctors are good. They heal people...as long as they don't go by one-letter names, anyway. Finally, I allowed myself to relax, and the blackness swept me away. I didn't really plan on waking up any time soon.