My rambling -
Yay, another chapter! Again, just randomly inspired so I thought I would type whilst it was in my head. It became rather long, but we're back to Duo's perspective, and talking more about his relationship with Wufei.
Therefore this chapter includes hints towards sex and, of course, sexuality (MEN LIKE MEN, WARN THE PRESSES) as well as swearing and mention of grisly (best word to describe it, really) injuries.
That's all I really have to say about it all (=
Some Things Don't Need To Be Said
Chapter 5 - How to Stand Properly
The light blinded him for a couple more seconds even as the figure moved towards him. He tried to get up, despite the cuffs around his ankles, and use his rather unintimidating height against the figure. Wufei had taught him that - no matter how short you were, stand as if you were six foot, with a straight back. Pretend that a long string is coming down from the sky and pulling you up from the top of your head whilst your feet stay steadily planted on the floor. Duo would always tease him then about being a puppet of god (or the gods, in Wufei's case) whilst he was an angel of death - his string would be coming from the bottom of the earth and it was lucky he wasn't crumpled uselessly on the ground.
He had been, once. Well, more than once. But it had only been once that Wufei had found him.
They had been in some shithole safe house in the middle of a forest so damaged by war that most of the trees were bare or suffering from fire damage. When Duo first saw it, he didn't see how on earth they were meant to stay hidden here - but between centuries of horror films based around run down shacks in the woods and people struggling with their own lives, they would probably be overlooked anyway.
Duo remembered he had been dragging his leg - some sort of injury when running away from the enemy, he remembered stumbling over someone else's head (someone dead, probably someone already dead, hopefully someone already dead) and hearing a crack. Managing to keep himself from falling, he kept running - run-limping, rimping maybe - to where his transport was ready and waiting. He could outrun these scrubs with ease, even on a solo mission, and he almost felt pity as he got out of the building and onto the motorbike that didn't really stick out in the car park of the base. He started up his bike, put on his helmet - why take the risk, he did enough with his Gundam - and paused to press the button.
The explosions started at the back of the base, as he planned, then moved through the building. He was used to the anguished screams, but he was having trouble getting the bike started. It was a second hand piece of crap that Howard had found and 'fixed', and this was the first problem Duo had with it. He knew the explosions wouldn't reach the car park but now was a good time to get out, whilst everyone was busy with everyone else.
So he had hopped off the bike to wheel it out of the compound, when he felt something grab his bad ankle. The pain coursed through him and he hissed, turning around to see what could be grabbing his attention in such a painful way.
His own pain left every ounce of his body when he saw who was touching him. Or, more appropriately at this point, what. He could tell it was a young man (although still older than himself) with blond hair that looked like it used the same wax Wu did. Everything else was hard to tell. He was naked, but this was hardly of Duo's concern - there were patterns and marks burnt onto what was left of the skin of his torso. As he let go of Duo's ankle, he left his skin behind and Duo, even though he knew he was meant to keep a calm composure, frantically shook his leg until the skin slid off and onto the ground.
The man's head was like something he had seen in a book about Hiroshima, once - he had burnt, red-angry skin on one side, second and third degree burns, and the other side was missing all its skin. It was alarming, especially around his mouth, giving him a smile that wasn't really a smile. It was bared teeth.
The thing that was once a man spoke. His voice croaked, burnt from the inside as much as the outside. He must have been screaming, fire must have got in - once fire got in, there wasn't much that could be done.
"I...know...you did...this..." He said, slowly.
Duo said nothing. He knew this man couldn't tell, wouldn't be able to tell. If there were any risk, Heero had taught him how to kill with bare hands. With an excited atmosphere like this, and the chance of people evacuating soon, people perhaps who weren't in such a bad state, he didn't need to muddy the waters with a gunshot. Strangulation would work just fine. But Duo simply knew he didn't need to.
He should have kept moving the bike. Other dying people had wanted to tell him their stories before, but something about this man made him want to listen - maybe it was how ruined he had made it all, seeing the damage he had done up close and personal.
"...My little girl..Lucilla..." His red raw hand groped around his neck, pulled until the chain that hang there broke. "...Lives south of here...the Workers' Complex B. ...Please don't...bomb there...please...post this through the door...please..." He held out a necklace, the type with a clasp that held photos. Not unusual, in the army, though this guy had chosen to attach his dog tags on to the same necklace.
The dying man was getting tired, it wasn't hard to tell. After taking the necklace and nodding solemnly, Duo reached out and closed his eyelids. For a moment, he fondled the cross under his shirt and considered giving the man his final rites, but it had been so long and he was running out of time. Instead, he shoved the necklace into his jacket pocket, zipping it up so it was secure, and rolled the bike out of the complex.
Once he had gotten out, he hopped back in the bike and was relieved to find it started first time this time. The Workers' Complex B was on his way to the safe house, but he knew Howard and Quatre would be pissed if he didn't check in soon. He was already late, thanks to the man who had caught him. Finally, someone had - technically - caught up with the angel of death.
So he drove past the unharmed Complex - it wasn't, as far as he knew, on their hit list either, so at least he could keep one promise for now - and on to the badly hidden safe house where even he was convinced an ax murderer could be hiding. He hid his bike using netting and the dead leaves that covered the ground (far easier than trying to hide a Gundam; thankfully 'Scythe was safe getting a tune up with Howard) before going inside. The building was more up to date than the outside would have you believe - the windows were bulletproof and tinted over so no-one could see in, the door had two locks to get in, and five locks on the inside, and of course it had electricity but only cold running water. After all, it was a stop over base, made for a night or two, not for very long.
Duo retrieved his laptop and sent a quick email to Howard and Quatre, explaining -
'The job went real good, guys! Boom, boom, boom, all gone. All dead or badly wounded. Duo Maxwell - 1, OZ - Nil. You asked the right man for the job ;) I'd loveeeeee to chat over the video phone but this lumpy, cold bed is calling my name so we can talk in the morning.'
He added on to Quatre banter and info only he needed to know -
'Cat, get your arms away from the circus performer and look over at your emails every now and again man! I'm sure he can twist into all sorts of exciting shapes, but it was you who asked me to go on this mission on behalf of one of the doctors and without many details, I should add! You owe me at least a Dr. Pepper and rum when we get somewhere more classy. Anyway I got the intel that was requested on a USB stick that I'll keep safe until we meet again. I don't trust the connection in this rickety old barn even if Heero swears by it. Ciao!'
He sent the emails, feeling no need to tell them about the dying man. He felt no need to tell them about anything, apart from write in the correct tone and make the right excuses about why he didn't want to talk on the phone. There was only one bed in the safe house, but it was a double - as far as he knew, he was the only one with a job near here, so he could relax. That was good, too. He was suddenly aware of the pain in his ankle again - the pain he could ignore when talking to someone so worse off than him, pain he could ignore despite the throbbing of the old bike, the pain he could ignore when he was pretending the mission was a success and he was the same old same.
He eased his military boot off, the smell of new leather not exactly unwelcome to him. The boot was hard to get off - his ankle had swollen up in it bad, and he didn't want to have to cut himself out of them later and try and find a substitute shoe in this shack. It was warm, but a cold hand against it felt welcoming, eyes closing for a minute. Maybe when he felt stronger, he could find some painkillers and something to wrap around it - maybe a cool towel or something. Shit, that would feel nice. But for now, he had to sit down. It had been a long, solo mission, with few chances to rest.
Duo fell back on the edge of the bed and drew out the necklace. It was nothing special, and he eased open the clasp.. There was a photo of the young man - probably to match to his body, but even Duo could be convinced he was looking at two different people right then - and, on the other side, a photo of a little girl. She looked about six or seven, an age Duo remembered all too vividly with Solo 'adopting' him - she was sitting on a horse and grinning with insane happiness. Their childhoods couldn't be further apart, but she had still lost her daddy, and Duo was making assumptions she was sitting comfortably at home with her mummy. He didn't know. The horse could be from a petting zoo, a day trip from a care home that looked after kids who didn't have mums and had dads at war - they weren't unusual. He was making wild assumptions just because he didn't see a photo of her begging in the gutter. She may have been there. He didn't know.
He closed the clasp and examined the dog tags. 'David Machin'. The same initials as him, and the same birthday as him, though he would have been five years older in a couple of months. Duo ran his finger up and down the barcode, and found himself standing. Here wasn't safe. Not the house, but the position he was in. He wasn't safe. Duo found himself a corner with two outside walls, one with the front door on, and the other that the bed rested against. Safer. Corners were always safer. People couldn't sneak up on you that way. You had more chance of surviving if a pipe bomb suddenly came flying your way. He was also closer to his bike; even if it was outside, it was still only one of his few processions.
David Machin was the same as him, apart from burnt to a crisp with a little girl who was missing her daddy. News would have reached the Complex by now, and they'd all be wondering if their daddies were alive or dead, and how badly injured they were. God, no kid should have to see their dad like he had seen David. David - already on first name terms like they were friends. Maybe they were, in a weird way. David had reached out to him, literally, to give him the necklace and give him that responsibility. Bur he couldn't do it right now. No matter what side you were on, he was sure David would understand that - Duo would basically be yelling 'I DID IT' if he turned up in the Complex with the necklace.
Duo felt his head bow down. He held the necklace against his heart as if every thud he didn't deserve would somehow give life to David. In reality, every beat was causing his ankle to throb and expand more - it had become a colour similar to eggplant, a vegetable Duo hadn't tried until earlier that year with much persuading from Quatre, and - guess what - he hadn't liked it. But at least he had something to relate it to against his ankle.
He was sure there was a first aid kit in the kitchen with at least some bandages in and maybe some cream to help the swelling, and he knew he should be on the bed alleviating it rather than slumped on the floor. But it was a weird self-induced punishment from an injury that was an accident - it wasn't just David, or even just his daughter losing her daddy, but it was everyone else and everyone elses' story. Their voices pounded through his head, sorrow and loss and heartbreak. He wasn't empathetic like Quatre was, but really, it didn't take a lot of imagination to hear them all screaming. It was like Maxwell Church all over again, it was like the stories he had heard from the other kids there about losing their parents - everyone had their story.
Maybe he was feeling sorry for himself, or maybe the emotion of it all really was making it hard for him to do anything else, but even as the door unlocked and creaked open, he didn't spring up, ready to attack bare-handed, gun still tucked under the mattress of the bed. He stayed on the floor. If this was the end, it was the end. Maybe someone had followed him back to this location and was about to beat the shit out of him or set the place on fire - and Duo would embrace that situation with no argument.
Instead, there was a soft kick against - thankfully - his uninjured ankle. "Maxwell." The noise was more akin to a grunt than a word, but he heard his name in the jumble. He knew the voice, and obviously the voice knew him, so he wasn't in immediate danger - at least not from the enemy. The voice, on the other hand, may pose a problem. He finally raised his head and gave a loose one handed wave. "...Hey Wu."
Wufei immediately bristled. "My name is not 'Wu'." He spoke through somewhat clenched teeth. "Why are you acting like such an idiot? I could have been anyone." Duo snorted, turning his head away. "I didn't see you with your gun drawn, either."
"Of course you didn't," Wufei retorted, "because I had my gun drawn, and pointed at you, when you weren't even looking at me. If I had been OZ, you'd be dead right now. What is wrong with you?!"
It wasn't a nice 'what is wrong with you?'. It wasn't the kind he would get from Quatre that was genuine; it was more like 'what's wrong in your head?' than anything else. In response, Duo gave a one armed shrug. He really didn't know. He should be perfect like Heero - not injured, making his formal emails, then training in his down time. Or he should be like Trowa, limping to wrap up his own injuries, writing his own formal emails and one less than formal email to Quatre. Or like Wufei, quietly meditating, sitting still for hours, not distracted by the pain or the world around him.
To his surprise, Wufei seemed to relax a little. "You're hurt," he muttered, shaking his head. Yeah, yeah, typical Duo, he got it. Wufei grabbed him by the arm and tugged him to his feet, Duo hissing in pain as he put weight on his ankle. "I knew this wasn't the right solo mission for you... Or for any of us. It should have been at least two person effort." As Duo wasn't speaking, Wufei seemed to be filling the gap with noise - or maybe he wanted to make this much noise normally and Duo's rambling stopped him.
"This failure is nothing to do with you - " He began, and Duo tensed, stopping him with a growl. "There was no failure. I did my job perfectly. I snuck in, I placed the explosives, I hid, I ran, I set the damn things off. An injury is not a failure, Wuffie." Now he was saying 'Wuffie' to piss him off, because he was pissed off himself. "You sound like Heero. An injury, taking a minute over the anticipated time or taking minor damage to your Gundam is not a goddamn failure!"
Annoyance won over the pain and he wiggled free from the other, even though he overbalanced and fell onto the hard floor. Sure, it hurt, and he probably had more minor bruises because of it, but he didn't care. He was free from Wufei, who was acting more like Heero, at least in his mind, and he couldn't deal with that shit just then.
Duo let himself stay crumpled on the floor, breathing fast, because he was trying not to cry. Wufei frowned, and bent down to his side, instead of trying to yank him up again. "I...didn't mean failure like that," Wufei said, softly. "I was criticizing the mission. I read the specs before I came on my mission, just in case it required a second person, and I know it meant you couldn't sleep for over three days, that you had to try and blend in with the enemy, and that you had to risk your neck more than usual without your Gundam. I wanted to join you on it, but my mission ended after yours', obviously, though I am glad to see you relatively safe."
Duo turned his head away. The anger fell from his face and he bit his lip. How could he be angry when Wufei seemed to be actually being honest for once about not wanting to abandon a colleague. Sure, colleagues, that was all they would ever be to Wufei, but more and more recently Duo had been finding himself having different feelings. Even the nicknames were names of friendship, not disrespect, and if Wufei ever told him seriously to stop, he would in a heartbeat. But so far, he seemed to be tolerating it.
"...I'm sorry, Wu. I'm sure you're...I'm sure you wanted time alone rather than me stuck in this stupid shack too. I'd leave, but...there's no way I can with this ankle." He admitted, shaking his head. To his surprise, Wufei's arms were suddenly under him, scooping him up with a strength that couldn't be seen from his lithe body. He gently moved him over to the bed and lay him down, taking the other set of pillows and resting his ankle on it. "You're not leaving." Wufei said, firmly.
And Duo didn't. Neither did Wufei. They both stayed there, keeping weary eyes on their laptops and passing the time with gin rummy and other card games. Wufei found a chess set and tried in vein to teach the boy how to play, but Duo had the attention span of a squirrel on speed, so it didn't exactly take, but they actually had fun with it. Wufei found himself not as angry at Duo's failings; Duo found himself wanting to annoy Wufei a lot less.
Some small bone in his ankle was broken, but it only took a couple of days for the swelling to go down and then a support bandage let him limp around. If he had been a normal teenager, the hospital probably would have given him a cast - but when you were a Gundam Wing pilot, and one of the most wanted people in the world and space, you didn't have the chance to use a cast.
One evening, only around five days after that pathetic first day, Wufei came out of the kitchen to find himself looking at the necklace the dying man had given him. He looked at Duo quizzically. All the pilots by now knew about the cross, but this silver-plated necklace was new to him. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but...a trophy?"
Duo looked up at him. A part of him felt a numb sense of anger at Wufei thinking he would want to take a trophy for the people he killed, but it was more sadness than anything else. Maybe when his ankle was too swollen for him to move he had an excuse not to return it, but now he was able to walk, he was feeling more guilty.
He fiddled about the necklace as he told Wufei all about it. Wufei nodded understandingly - he had never had the same situation, but he could imagine it. Maybe Heero could say no (or, more likely, nothing at all) to a dying man, but most of the pilots would at least make the effort to say they would do what's right.
"You know you can't return it," Wufei said, very softly, when the story was over. "It has your fingerprints all over it... All it needs is someone looking a bit closer at the situation and you'll be found out. We all will be, at this point in time. After all this running and hiding, do you really want to be found out this way?"
Duo bowed his head and shook it a little. Of course he didn't. He would never put his colleagues at such a risk, even though he was neutral about the impact on himself. "I know what we can do instead," Wufei suggested, giving a half smile. "Do you think you can put your sock and shoes on now?" Duo nodded. The swelling was almost non-existent, even if the pain still bothered him occasionally - certainly not enough to complain about.
After struggling about with the tight fitting boots and listen to Wufei drone on about the many ways you could loosen tough boots, they left the shack locked and headed deeper into the woods. Duo's head was bowed, which was how he normally walked - his braid was distinctive enough, his purple eyes didn't need to draw attention to him too. Wufei looked at him and pulled a face.
"Duo. You know the difference between me and you?"
Duo could list a thousand, but not quite in the mood with the necklace firmly in his hand, he shook his head instead.
"We're both short - that's what's the same. But I make it look like I'm not short. Right now, I look at least a couple of inches taller than you and when people look at me, they probably see me as a foot taller than you, because height leads to confidence."
Duo sighed a little. "So what's your suggestion? We both go on some sort of stretching rack until we look a little more like guys our own age?"
Wufei smiled a bit at Duo's humor coming back - if only slightly. "Not exactly. Stop for a minute." He instructed, moving to stand in front of him. Gently, he touched Duo's shoulders, shifting them so they slouched less - he put a finger under Duo's chin and lifted it up so he was looking forward. He swept his bangs out of his eyes so they were looking each other right in the eyes.
"Okay. Close your eyes for a minute. You know you can trust me."
Honestly, Wufei didn't have to say that. Duo did trust Wufei. He had become more trusting and more enchanted with him over the last few days, and those touches just then had driven him wild - he was just glad he was wearing loose pants. Wufei was already in some sort of zone, something magical, like meditation - he wouldn't have noticed anyway.
Duo closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Having his eyes closed, even in the middle of an alien forest, made him feel more relaxed already.
"Okay, now I want you to imagine there's a string going from the top of your head. It runs up to the sky - it doesn't matter what it attaches too; a cloud, a sun, some god, whatever you're comfortable with. The most important thing is to feel your spine straighten, your legs straighten - you should feel less strain on your knees and ankles, your head won't feel as heavy. You don't always have to walk like this - we both know there's times where you have to hide, or blend in, but if you can, walk in this position. Your breathing will even feel better because it opens up the diaphragm. You'll be conscious of doing it the first few times, but then it'll become second nature and you'll only change it when you have to, like for missions. ...You can open your eyes now."
Wufei said all of that so softly, so peacefully that Duo felt a weird and not unpleasant tingling all over his scalp, going down the back of his neck, almost falling the line of his braid. It was such a relaxing feeling that Duo didn't want to stop, but of course it had to, and Duo opened his eyes, feeling a soft blush on his cheeks.
"Are you okay? You look a little flushed. Maybe it was too early to take you out with your ankle..." Wufei fussed, but Duo shook his head quickly. "No, I'm fine! I just...look like that when I have to concentrate for a long time." Wufei shrugged. "Sounds like you," he agreed. He was even getting used to gently ribbing Duo; a week with him would apparently do that to you.
"You should use that position to get dominance, too. I know we're both not tall, but I've gotten out of a lot of situations just by putting myself in that position. Always meet their eyes. Always stare them down. Always keep your back straight. Never let your body language tell someone else how scared or hurt you are. It may save your life one day."
Wufei kept them both walking until they came to a deep drop in the middle of no where. It wasn't quite a cliff, although the fall could certainly kill you, but as it was so isolated, there was no fencing - just one rickety bridge going across it.
"Some memories are best left behind. Do you really think that little girl wants dog tags from the man who killed her father, or do you think she'd like to keep her memories of all the fun things they did?"
Duo sighed softly. "I know if I had a dad to remember... I wouldn't want some dog tags that smell like fire and blood. I would just want the memories. And hopefully, she has plenty of those."
"Then let it free, Duo." For a moment, Wufei took the necklace and, forever the pilot, wiped carefully at the tags and the clasp. They could have done more to get the fingerprints off, but no-one would be looking for the necklace and probably no-one would find it. A small stream running through the center of the drop would hopefully wash off the last of any evidence and water was symbolical of a fresh start, of something new, also of life continuing on into something bigger, like the sea. Duo was only half listening as he gazed once more at the photos, and ran a thumb over the name.
"...David Machin, I let you free!" He didn't yell it too loud, just in case, but it was important for him to say none the less. He threw the jewelry and it landed in the water, being dragged along slightly by the flow and settling by some rocks. That day, David Machin became free, and Duo Maxwell learned how to be a new man.
So that's how he stood as the figure approached him. Despite the cuffs and the pain in his bank from being hunched over, not to mention the throbbing headache, he managed to stand tall and straight, shoulders back, feet flat on the ground but his head straight, and his expression neutral.
The man who reached him definitely was taller than him, even though Duo had grown a couple of inches since the incident in the woods. He was more Trowa's height but with the build of a strong man, with visible muscles - it was relatively easy to work out and not have muscles straining, but this sort of guy had them to show he had them. To show he meant business. His hair ran down to his chin level, and it was curly blond - lighter than Quatre's, more platinum than yellow. His face was not unattractive, but all Duo could see right then was the face of the man who had captured him, or at least held him here.
The man smirked and reached through the bars, stroking a long fingernail - too long, it felt disgusting against his skin - under his chin. "Ahh, Duo Maxwell. How long I have wanted to meet you. How long I have watched you on screens and wanted to reach through and, ohhh, just grab you out of it. And now you're here. And I'm here. I'm sure you're confused, but I'm sure above all else, you're thirsty. I've heard Midazolam* can make you have a rather dry mouth... That, and being unconscious for four days too, I would assume."
He produced a water bottle and held it up to the bars. Duo had to lap from the drizzling water like a dog, and he was pretty sure only half of it got in his mouth. "Good boy," the man purred, a noise that made Duo feel sick. He was dependent on this man for everything, and he was more powerless than just the cuffs - he was being chemically restrained. The Mida-whatever the man had spoken of had left him drowsy and shaky, and he couldn't even know if the bottle didn't contain anymore drugs. This was all so risky - but equally, it was all he had.
"...So," Duo finally spoke once the bottle was empty. "...Tell me why I'm here."
Dun dun dun, another cliffhanger! Always a cliffhanger, really.
*Just as a note, Midazolam is an injectable sedative that can be used continuously, though Duo has been injected repeatedly rather than having an IV drip - it doesn't last too long even in its stronger injectable form, so it can be assumed he has been injected more than the five times he noted on his arms. Midazolam has lots of uses, including for operations, so it knocks you out deep - it also impairs the short term memory. These details will no doubt be important as the plot goes on, as well as the withdrawal symptoms from it being rather extreme, similar to other benzo withdrawals.
To be continued
