My ramblings -
Hi!
Thanks again for more feedback, always appreciated.
Some warnings for this one - discussion/description of blood and vomit, hints towards past sexual molestation, some non-sexual nudity, some very low level swearing.
I promise, despite the way the this chapter ends, the next chapter IS a Wufei one, so yay for that.
For those who read the chapter earlier, it was in first person (Duo's perspective) but it really didn't work in the long term. So I'm sorry if people have gotten confused, but from now on Wufei is always first person; Duo is always third.
Some Things Don't Need To Be Said
Chapter 7 - Drawing Blood
Once the foreplay was over, Duo realised the man was just getting started. The doctor, who proved himself quite lanky as he unlocked the door to my cage briefly and slipped inside, locking it behind himself. He had to bent down and Duo was, rather shamefully, reminded once more of my stunted height. Probably years of unregulated chemicals after years of non-provided vitamins needed for a decent growth spurt.
Duo slipped back when the man came inside the room, though he had told him with a rather disgusting double entendre that he was coming inside a very private and intimate space; that he hoped Duo was clean. It wouldn't have been funny even if the threat of rape hadn't felt very, very real - a constant, at the hands of a madman who kept trying to reassure the ex-pilot he was a doctor.
Closer, Duo saw the blond hair was greying, just at the part - so was Wu's, he thought absently, which was why he kept in in such a silly style; once he found out, one day after bumping into him when he was damp and pink from the shower, his hair loose and hanging in loose curls around his chinline. After Duo got over being flustered ('Maxwell, lost for words? What a surprise.') Wufei used his spare towel to dry the hair - as he did so, Duo noticed he was grey in the middle of the part, which explained why he like keeping it back and tight.
After Duo must have spent the best part of the day teasing him and dropping hints without telling anyone (not that 'anyone' in the safehouse cared - it was Trowa, the only other person not on a mission, and he was pining over Quatre more than focusing on what was going on) Wu had made me pinky-swear not to tell anyone. Well, more he had said that 'on your honour, as a fellow soldier, you should not tell' and Duo was the one who suggested the pinky-swear, which he reluctantly agreed too. That soft touch was a feeling Duo never forgot, nor the vulnerability of Wu naked from the shower, or even how the small grey hairs made him seem distinguished, like when he put on those glasses when he was studying or had to concentrate hard.
So my doctor was older than he seemed, though probably younger than Howard and most of the other doctors Duo knew, apart from Sally. Maybe even an ex-soldier working medical, which would explain more his interest in the pilots, and the ease to build something like this cage, without apparent help. Duo could imagine a doomsday room turned into a trap for a pilot - Duo, in particular.
He didn't waste time, or say much once he was inside the cage. He warned Duo just once that there was no way to escape - that if he had even managed to get free, there were two rotties upstairs that would rip me limb from limb, trained to destroy intruders as was the right of people on L2 - to keep dangerous dogs to protect their life and property. Then he undid one heavy cuff and attached the free cuff to the bars, so Duo had one arm free. Duo experimentally flexed it - it felt tingly, perhaps to be expected after several days wearing in them and even sleeping them.
"That's it, good," his voice purred a little. "Get the blood back flowing, because I'm going to take it out soon. I imagine a pint or two* should be sufficient. You may be a bit light headed and even a little sick for the rest of the afternoon, but it shall pass. I will leave you enriched water."
Duo was oh, so tired of asking questions, mainly because none of them had gotten answers he had wanted so far. He didn't want to ask why so much, or what the water was enriched with. But the silence was begging a question to be asked, and Duo wasn't used to being quiet for so long.
"Is the needle clean?"
A simple question, but an essential one. Duo had every hope, every wish, every dream of getting out of here alive and not hurt in the long run - he didn't want to risk some disease passed by a needle he didn't even want inside of my skin.
"Of course. Fresh out of a sterile packet. I'll open it up in front of you, if you like. Besides, there's no need to risk contaminating the result. This is the...testing round, if you'd like. If you and all your little pathogens still show a resistance to the plague, then you're through to the next round. If not, well, we have to bid you farewell." He gave me a grin.
Duo must have paled, or trembled, or something, because there was something about my body language that somehow gave him away right then.
"Oh, calm down. We can't have the marvellous Duo Maxwell shot in the head and unloaded in some ditch. I'll transport you to Earth at my own expense, where your ex-colleagues are waiting for you."
Duo swallowed drily. What did they have to do this? Was him mentioning them good or bad? His heart raced. Duo couldn't see how they would manage to put him up to this or why they would want to.
"Nothing exciting, I'm afraid," the man stretched himself out a little and reached out for his doctor's bag, pulling out a needle in sterile packaging. "They're...hm, how are the press putting it? 'Effectively imprisoned by request of the Queen and court'." He concluded with a little nod as he recalled it.
Duo drew my arm back so the doctor had no chance of getting blood from it until he answered some more questions. "Wait, what? What do you mean, imprisoned?!" When he had left, it had been party after party but there had been plans to go back to normal. If anyone, Duo was the only one without a plan - what had happened after he had left that had meant prison for everyone else? Thoughts burst into my head of the four of them stealing Gundams to go and find him - of them convinced that Relena, who had never been that keen on me, had somehow 'got rid' of him, and trashing the palace. Selfish thinking, sure, but he was the only thing that had changed between them all making plans to move on was Duo disappearing.
The man sighed, looking at my arm. "This would be a lot easier out of the inside of your elbow, truly. But it's not the only place with veins. There's your neck, though I'd imagine it would hurt and the bruising would be hell; there's in between your toes but you've had those skanky shoes and socks on for so long that you probably have trench foot, at best... Then there's your lovely little groin, I'm sure that's not such an alien place for a little prick, I've heard the best rumours about pretty boys from L2."
Duo growled and kicked him in my cuffed feet, right in between his chest. He didn't get much of a pull back and it probably didn't hurt too much, but for a moment it knocked the wind out of the doctor and all all he could do was gasp. There was no point trying to make a run for it. Even if he could leap over the lanky body in my way with his ankles in cuffs, then somehow stumble the length of the basement and get up the stairs - and the guy wasn't even knocked out, just momentarily out of breath.
By the time he had thought of even trying that method of escape, the man had recovered, his eyes darkened. "We can talk and work," he said, calmly, and Duo was suddenly aware that it was going to be closer to two pints than one, just for that. "Your...friends, or ex-colleagues, whatever you think of them as, are being held in a house on Earth not far from the palace. They share a bedroom between two - can you imagine the insane heat? Especially between that tall circus fellow and the little Arabian - I read in 'Hey!'** that they're quite the loving couple. Not sure how much they'll be getting up to, having a guard each though."
As he spoke, he was using a cable tie to attach Duo's wrist to the bar, to keep a tension and keep the vein enlarged on the inside of his arm. He was very practised, trying off the top of Duo's arm and cleaning the incision point with cold, brown disinfectant and waiting for a few seconds before gently petting it dry.
"I read there was a rebellion one night, one of the first nights. Some photographer in the bushes saw it all - three of your buddies standing up against something, and all four of them getting tasered until they collapsed. I wonder how much tasering they took. I wonder how much you could take. ...But that's an experiment for another day." He added, almost dreamily.
He unwrapped the needle in front of Duo, like he said he would do, and attached it to a syringe, drawing blood first. "Good, good." He murmured, softly. Duo was still trying to take this all in, and shook my head distractedly. "...What's their charge?"Duo asked, quietly. He knew it had been a fear all of them shared - laws could be broken even with war going on, but he was finding it hard to pinpoint what would require that kind of guarding, and agreed by Queen Relena herself as well.
"Ohhh, who knows," the man gave a languid shrug. "You guys probably broke a ton of peace treaty laws, killed unarmed civilians, refused to give up when faced with Earth's official armies - any one of those would be enough for prison." He was setting up the bag now to take my blood, putting it in a machine to rock it gently and prevent clotting. Duo was never squeamish - it was more than an essential factor for being a pilot - but seeing his own blood leaving his body was surreal and unnerving. That could have been the days without food, very little water, and drugs that could be doing god knows what to his body.
"But you said they're not in prison," Duo pressed, focusing on anything else. The doctor nodded, binning his purple gloves and putting his sharps away in a little disposable box. Maybe he really did care about health and safety - at least of himself. "No." The doctor responded, simply. "They're as close to prison as they could be. In my opinion, that's probably for their own opinion and to the cost of the tax pay trying to keep Gundam Pilots under lock and key - I believe they think if they offer them enough home comforts and freedoms as possible, without going outside, there will be less escape attempts until the Court has made its finial decision."
There was that name of that alien group of people Duo didn't know. They may well be OZ, as well as I know. "The Court? What are they deciding, exactly?" Duo stared blankly at the wall and let him check his pupils and blood pressure, despite the fact he could control both to make him think anything Duo wanted. For now, just tired, he them be what they were. Regardless, he was the guy in charge of his health and medication - if there really was something wrong, he wanted it fixed. Or at least dumped at the nearest medical unit with a note.
"Why, the whole of what you did wrong. What charges can be dropped - what murders were essential, what unneeded civilian deaths occurred, how long you'll get in prison properly, with time served. I don't know how they're figuring about you. I guess it depends what happens when you're dropped back on Earth, when I am done with you. Maybe they'll figure you've served your time and then some. Maybe they'll shut your with your buddies doing 20 to life in general population. I'm not a lawyer." The man shrugged as if that were a whole lot of nothing, not 5 young teens who had saved the earth and the colonies from the biggest threat they had known.
Duo started to shift, his stomach churning. He didn't know if it was the blood he was losing, the hunger, or the threat of his friends doing '20 to life' in prison, but he suddenly didn't feel well. "I feel a bit sick," He mumbled, and he must have sounded it or looked it, because the doctor thrust the piss bowl - luckily unused - in front of Duo.
Duo threw up until it was green bile then dry heaves, and the doctor barely looked at him. He moved once to change the bag to the next pint, but apart from that, he offered no comfort. Duo's hair was covered in spit and stringy vomit, and his mouth felt foul. He tried to reach out for the water, tainted or not, and the doctor did pass it over, and Duo mainly swilled and spit before drinking half of it in one go.
"It will fix what ails you, and help you sleep." The doctor said, simply, finally unplugging me and pressing a tissue against the wound until it stopped bleeding and he wrapped a bandage around Duo's arm. He didn't care what the doctor said just then. Duo didn't care what the water did then. His arm hurt, and so did his stomach, and the room swam. The doctor was careful to recuff Duo after freeing his arm from the bars, and tided up after himself before creeping out of the room.
"Goodnight, sweet prince."
Duo couldn't tell if it was sarcasm. He couldn't care. All he could do was sleep, and dream...
* In the UK, where you don't get paid for donating your blood (just as a small aside!) you can only donate between once ever 4 - 6 months depending on your health and other things such as tattoos. The UK Blood Association will never take more than a 470ml, which is just under a pint, and even that in some seemingly healthy people can cause generally feeling unwell, fainting, and vomiting.
(Also, these things are very rare, so if you can, PLEASE become a blood donor! I gave blood ten times before my medications meant I couldn't do it, and I intend to start doing it again as soon as I can. It really can save a life and - in the UK - you can sign up and book up online).
** "Hey!" is a parody of a magazine in the UK called "Hello!" which is full of general popular culture rubbish which may or may not be true, such as who is getting married to who. Just gossipy trash, even if they happened to get the Trowa and Quatre thing right on this occasion!
To be continued
