Disclaimer: I don't own the GW characters – am just borrowing to torment for my amusement

Warnings: Swearing, yaoi, violence, general angst, possible OOCness (ages since I've written fanfiction so may be a little bit rusty) m/m sexual relations, slight sap, Duo abuse

Pairings: 1x2 , 3x4, 5+2

A/N: Warning for Duo abuse in this chapter… you all knew it was coming, didn't you? ;)

Song is Night of the Hunter by 30 Seconds to Mars

Chapter Fourteen

Night of the Hunter

There are times when I realise that I am a stubborn son of a bitch and that I should listen to other people. That I look back and reflect and think that I should've listened to Heero. That I should not think I knew everything and that I should be less off an asshole. Basically, stop thinking I can take on the world singlehandedly and actually admit defeat and ask for help when I needed it. This was one of those times.

The back of my head hit the floor with enough force to knock out a normal guy. I wasn't normal and plus everyone commented on my thick skull. I could feel the blood beginning to pour as the kick hit my ribs. Damn, take it Maxwell. Let them do what they want… no fighting back. No Shinigami. This beating could be because I ran out on the hospital not because they knew who I was. I needed to take it to retain cover. Needed to take it.

I'd been given brief introduction to torture training from G. It was just along the lines of don't get caught in the first place and if you are gonna be caught, at least have the sense to kill yourself before you're in enemy hands. My true torture training had been Barge. Learnt a hell of a lot in that pleasant OZ stay. It sometimes still made appearances in my nightmares – sadistic pricks. I can list the most important things I learnt from Ozzie scum. Don't rile the people kicking you. I know, completely obvious so I kept my smart mouth shut and didn't say anything. The twins and the hard asses I'd seen around the place did the usual insults. Pretty boy. Queer. Faggot. Shit. Fucker. Motherfucker. It's all the same stuff. Someone pulled back on my hair and I had the temptation to fight back – I still had my knife so could probably cut them up bad. I could kill a couple of them in seconds but I couldn't. I'm not Duo. I'm Domino.

Another thing. Keep your body as relaxed and loose as possible. You tense – it hurts. Just remain helpless and let them do it. So I just lay on the cold floor and took it. Thought about Heero. Thought about Wufei. They both knew techniques to ignore the pain. Wufei had once tried to teach me how to meditate at a Preventer safe house in Italy after an undercover job. Gently encouraged. Tried to get me to be calm and stop thinking. Tried to make me focus on my breathing and stop my racing mind. It was weird to think about 'Fei at this point – those black eyes, that calmness that he could radiate at times when he wasn't ranting…I wish I had some of his restraint. Wish I could drift into a world of peace. I wanted to not think of the pain, I wanted to drift to a place where they weren't hurting me and I wasn't fucked but it didn't work. I was trying but a heavy booted foot made contact in my stomach and I coughed in response. They were not going to get the satisfaction of a scream. Of a groan of pain. They were not gonna get anything from me.

I should probably rewind to how I ended up getting the shit kicked out of me from leaving Heero. Let's just say my absence had been noticed and not just noticed, the whole gang were actually guarding the hospital. I tried to sneak back in but got discovered. Got pistol whipped. Got dragged here. Up to speed, huh?

There was a break in the kicks and I was moved up to my knees, the man handling was something I was just gonna go with as my hands were being tied pretty ineffectively. I wanted to goad them. Let them know that those knots wouldn't stop me but I let them do it. Rule one and all. Do not piss off the people beating the shit outta you. Plus, it showed they thought the beating had subdued me. Yeah, it had hurt but I could take beatings. Pain was a part of who I was. Physical pain was easy. I wanted to give them a true Shinigami smile. They would all pay. Everybody who crossed me did.

I looked up through my bangs and spat onto the floor in front of me and it was bloody. I wasn't sure where it had come from but I could guess that my lips were split and there was the taste of blood in my mouth. The last time that coppery taste had been there was when me and Heero…

Damn it, not a good thought. Dallas was stood his arms folded across his chest, leaning against what had been a nurse's station with Zee to his side. She wasn't looking at me but was holding her gun as awkwardly as she usually did. She didn't enjoy the violence. The chick was a goddamn puzzle.

We were in a waiting room on the second floor, the lines of chairs to the side and the twins behind me, one grabbed my hair forcing me to look further up and more directly at Dallas. He was smirking at the display of violence with a look that I recognised. The look of a killer. My own reflection. I'd smiled as my enemies died from a Gundam cockpit. I had a cocky smirk on my face as I shot people, as I sunk knives into people but I was not psychotic. Violence was linked with who I was but it was all the great show. I laughed, I smiled and smirked as I killed but I didn't do stuff for my amusement. It was the mask. It was the only way I can continue killing people. I never got real pleasure from it. Just had to keep the Shinigami side separate from who I was. Just had to become the "other" me to kill. Though the sides had started to blur over the years.

Lance was stood to the side of me and I was kinda disappointed that he'd been involved in the beating. He'd been a fun guy but hey, it was probably one of those things. You fucked up. You help beat the prisoner.

"You were told you weren't allowed to leave the hospital," Dallas said.

"Yeah, well, I've never been good at taking orders, you know."

Dallas just smiled and walked towards me, his Berretta in his hand, his stride totally casual. If he put his hands behind his head like I did, it would be like watching myself. It was freaking me out… how…how similar we were. It just made me shudder.

The gun was in my face and he ran it over my cheek. I tensed but knew the safety was on and I was pretty sure he wouldn't go through the process of beating me just to kill me. It was then he turned just a little and he cocked the weapon, pulling back the hammer which sounded loud from where I was and the shot fired. I turned my head to the side as the bullet made impact and the spray of blood, bone and brain flew across my right side. One of the twins still had my braid in his hand and he pulled my head to see Lance crumple to the floor, most of his face gone… Dallas used hollow point bullets and they made a not so beautiful corpse. There had been a face there, but you know, it was difficult to see it.

The sound of someone spilling their guts could be heard. I guessed Zee. I could hear a door open and close as someone left the room. Huh. I didn't react as the blood seeped across the floor, the warmth that I felt against my knees as it soaked into my jeans. If my hands weren't tied, I would've just casually wiped away the blood on my face but being that they were, I just raised one eyebrow. It's not that I didn't feel bad for the kid but I couldn't do anything now. Sorry, Lance. Another body on my conscience. Least it ain't me.

"You gonna shoot me now?"

Dallas smirked and blew on the end of his gun as though he was some kinda hero from a movie. I glared up at him.

"No… Duo."

My name hit me like a blow to the gut. So much for my cover. So much for taking the beating to maintain it. Should've stayed away. I was too stubborn for my own good.

I laughed darkly. "So you know."

"Not difficult to find out."

"How long you known?"

"Now where's the fun in me telling you that?" Dallas asked and sauntered over to the nurses station and hopped up on it.

He tapped his gun on his thigh. I watched him and then glanced down to the pool of vomit that Zee had left in her absence. Then to the blood that was pooling over the floor. Then the corpse of Lance. Decent kids always seemed to get fucked over when they came into contact with me. It made me think of the last undercover. I'm sure Jamie was dead. The only kid that thought I wasn't a badass asshole. One of the few who looked at my eyes and realised that there was a person underneath the façade.

I got people killed. Always had. Always will. I shifted my body to stretch a little and carefully moved my wrists in the rope to see how much give there was. There was plenty. Twin one noticed and suddenly there was a hand pushing me face forward into the blood, I closed my mouth and turned my face to the side to try and avoid the contact with someone else's blood. Lance's. The chatty kid. The one I'd just got killed.

"No escape plans," the twin said. I don't think I'd heard him speak. And damn, he sounded mentally deficient. Okay, I thought he didn't have much in the intelligence department but his voice just sounded like some dumb jock in a teen show.

There was a boot on my back and the ropes were tied tighter around my wrists as I felt my clothing become completely saturated in blood. This was grim. Beyond grim. Yuk. There was brains and bone on me. I needed the world's hottest shower when I got out of here – if I got out of here. There were no guarantees as I was pulled up to my feet by my restrained hands.

"Check his braid. And his pockets," Dallas instructed.

The twin holding me patted me down to find my flick knife and he did the whole flicking out thing. It was the same as Antoine's heavy Gus had done and it had pissed me off then. I was tempted to kick out, sweep my legs underneath his in one swift motion and take him, break the rope around my wrists and get my knife back but I didn't know if I could. I could try but didn't really want another round of punches and kicks, you know.

The guy reached for my hair and it took all the self-restraint in me to not lash out as callous fingers ran down it, feeling for anything hidden. They seemed to discover my lock picks as stuff dropped to the floor. Damn it.

"Lock picks in your hair. Imaginative, hot shot."

"Hot shot?"

"Yeah, Mr Hot Shot former Gundam pilot. Don't have a mobile suit to hide behind now, do you, blue eyes?"

"Naw, but I seriously don't need one."

Dallas quirked a brow. "Back on his knees."

The forceful hands pushed me down and I complied – sometimes, it's better to bend and not break. Dallas approached me again and I decided to spit at him this time. He pistol whipped me across the face and my head snapped to the side. I was starting to lose my composure. I took a deep breath this time and thought about how Heero would handle this. And what he was hearing. Jesus. I imagined how I'd feel if I was listening to this if he was the one getting beaten on and it made me think. They'd come. Heero would come for me. Preventer agents in shiny jackets and I'd be extracted and Dallas could be interrogated.

Somehow the thought didn't make me feel better. I wanted to know. Wanted to uncover the shit that was going on in this rundown hospital. Wanted some satisfaction. Wanted some revenge. My blood was boiling and I decided to rile Dallas. Rule one. Broken.

"So what is this, Dallas? You think killing Lance in front of me means anything? Do you know how many people I've killed?"

"Do you?"

The answer was quick. I don't think I'd ever met someone who could match me in smart-assness.

"Naw, I didn't keep a count of every base, every gunshot, you know. Too busy."

I got a laugh at least, huh.

"This is me finding out what you know and who knows shit." He wandered away from me and towards the window. "You Preventers?"

"No, I'm here for my own fucking amusement."

"Blaise is Preventers, too."

"Fuck you. Don't bring him into this."

"He disappeared. Convenient."

"I told you. Smart guy."

"Vials. You know."

"Yup… L2 virus mark two and bullshit. Now in the hands of Preventers. Just a matter of time, Dallas."

"You really sure?" he said turning towards me. "I don't see no cars. No flashing lights. No 'copters."

"Give 'em time."

"How much time do you think you've got?"

"Geez, just kill me Dallas instead of all this macho posturing shit."

"So eager for death, Duo?"

"A hollow point to the face is so much more interesting than talking to you and listening to your bullshit."

I did defiant well. I know I did. I also knew he wasn't actually going to kill me.

"They called you Shinigami during the war," said another voice and I spun my head round to a guy sat on one of the seats in the waiting area. I hadn't clocked him earlier. Wondered if he'd been here the whole time. The guy from the park. He got up, smoothing down his clothes and walked towards me. "It means God of Death."

"Yeah and who the hell are you?"

"The benefactor," he said cryptically.

His clothing was better than all the gangs combined and he spoke with a clipped undefined accent. If I was hearing it right, it kinda sounded British but it was one of those vague accents that could be from anywhere. A lotta colony people had undefined accents. L2 was particularly American so most people spoke like I did. Though most with less swearing. Okay, just people who didn't come from the District and the bad part spoke with less swearing.

"The benefactor?"

"I gave Dallas and his gang this hospital in exchange for doing a few small jobs for me."

"Small jobs? Blowing shit up? Releasing a virus?"

"Trifling in comparison to the actions of a fifteen year old terrorist, I believe."

"Huh, you got me there."

We were at a stalemate it seemed.

"Get the body out of here, Dallas. I am not keen to have this conversation with the stench of blood. Get our guest something to wipe some of the blood from his face. It is quite distracting to look at."

Dallas snorted and seemed to hate being ordered around by the old dude but he nodded towards the twins. Twin two grabbed hold of Lance's feet and dragged him out of the room leaving a trail of blood across the floor.

Other twin was looking pissed. He wasn't someone who was gonna grab towels from someone like me. I was not worth the effort. Preventer pig and all. I thought about my perspective on cops and authorities prior to being one myself. I would hate Preventers if I wasn't one. It's all about perception. He did it though. Gotta give him the credit for that – after all, they had just watched Lance's face get half blown off.

Twin one brought paper towels and ineffectively swiped it across my face. I looked away from him and thought about being a bitch again and spitting. Decided against it as Mr Fancy Suit tutted.

"Give that to me. This is no way to treat a prisoner."

"Really? You were kinda fine watching me get the shit beat outta me."

"Yes, but that was a necessary component of this meeting, Mr Maxwell. I believe a little beating helps clear the mind."

Oh, yeah, my mind was seriously clear. He took the paper towels from twin and had the decency to spit on them – gross – and then move to my face to wipe away some of the blood. I wanted to throw up. This was not right in so many fucking ways.

"Plus we need you incapacitated."

"You think I'm incapacitated?"

Old dude laughed. "The legendary escape artist… but even escape artists die." He threw the balled paper towel to the floor and I glared at him. "I've seen your Preventer file. I've seen your psyche evaluations. I've seen your medical reports. It is an interesting read."

I snorted and let out a deep breath that blew up one of bangs. "Yeah, bet it makes a fun bed time story. But really, I'm not all that interesting. I'm just Joe Average and all."

"Ha, amusing but your file is very intriguing. You were immune to the virus as a child. You were never vaccinated but you were immune, were you not?"

My eyes widened a little. I suddenly knew were this was going.

"Do you think you are still immune?"

This is the point when I lost it. I jerked forward, my hands bound but my shoulders and head were free so I made my attempt to head butt. Forgetting that the twins were right behind me and they pulled back on my braid and I goddamn hissed at them. A new pain sensation joined the others of nearly having my scalp ripped out and I struggled but I was weaker than usual. I'd been beaten, I was sleep deprived, I can't remember the last time I'd eaten… I was useless, really. Should've stayed with Heero. Shoulda, coulda, woulda and all.

The sharpness of a needle, the way a vial looked in the dim light of the hospital seemed all too innocent. I'd had so many needles stuck in my veins over the years but I struggled. Struggled as three men held me down, one moved my braid away from the back of my neck, the old wound where I'd removed a chip with glass from what felt like years ago still bumpy and scarred. I stopped breathing as the needle broke through skin… as the plunger was pushed and the knowledge of a foreign substance entering my body and destroying me from inside. I stopped struggling as the needle popped back outta my skin and it was done. Nothing I could do now.

I glared up. "I really hope I'm still immune 'cause I'll enjoy it when I fucking rip you apart."

"Such eloquence. Such empty threats."

I coughed. It was purely hypochondria shit as the virus wouldn't work that quick as it had taken days from infection to death. Not long. Two days usually but there was time. Unless Mark Two meant it was stronger. I felt my vision blurring and started to feel my body want to slump. The twins and other guards had stepped away and now I knew I was fucked.

"I want to tell you a story. I feel perhaps you deserve it for all your hardships."

"Don't bore me to death."

This was the part in the movies when the bad guy tells you the conspiracy, the whole goddamn point of all this shit and I wanted him to start going mwah-ha-ha and stroke a white cat or something. I wanted to make a sarcastic comment something along those lines but my brain was not firing on all cylinders. Sue me.

"This won't bore you, I assure you. Once upon a time there was a colony cluster that had a problem with poverty. There were so many war orphans. So many drunks and whores and addicts that the colony government needed to purge. One day, they contacted a man who had been arrested for creating a particularly lethal party drug that had killed more than had got high. And they made a midnight agreement. All colonies had suffered plagues and illnesses. The flu could spread and kill a few thousand through the primitive air purification systems and no one would blink. So a virus was created that looked normal, natural even and it was released on a few subjects. It mutated. It killed. The government had an antidote for those that could afford it but the rest… perished."

I coughed and this time felt the bile and blood rise. Fuck. "You created the virus," I said – a statement of fucking fact not a question. My head was hurting. I wanted to sleep. My tongue felt big. Damn it all to hell.

He nodded. "I got paid. The government got what I wanted. A win for all, I think."

"And now?"

"Now… after the favour I did for L2, I started making my money in the District. Authorities turned a blind eye to me. I made my money. Party drugs, uppers and downer… whatever you want. And then the war ended and peace came and people wanted better. A less corrupt government came. A blonde billionaire wanted to help and I'm afraid I can't let that happen."

"Why not just kill him and fuck the virus?"

"Because Quatre Winner is just one man. An important man but a man. I will kill him as he annoyed me but one of the sisters might take over and complete the work he started while his body grows cold. A colony wide outbreak of virus, however, changes everything. This colony becomes the cesspit of the Earth Sphere full of the dying and the dead. Quarantined and abandoned. And I have the drugs to help… for those who succumb and have the money I have the antidote. For the immune I have drugs of oblivion as they watch the world around them die. I no longer run the District but the entire colony."

I slumped forward, my head swimming, small pinpricks of blue spots behind my eyes – I couldn't look at him anymore. I physically couldn't but also he made me sick. I didn't want to look in his eyes – one guy had killed so many people tinkering in a lab. Not getting his hands dirty. Just watching. Bile was rising in my throat and I then really hoped I would just vomit at his feet. That would be fun. I could already feel my muscles shaking and I was hot. Jesus was I hot.

"Seems you're not immune anymore, Duo…. Though we did give you three times the usual quantity."

I let out a weak laugh. "Them's the breaks, I guess."

"Get him locked up somewhere. I still don't trust that he'll die quietly."

The twins didn't seem to want to touch me but I wouldn't want to. I was going to puke and I was sweaty, pale and shivery. It was like getting a weeks' worth of flu in one hit. Least they had the dignity to give me far too much virus as they thought I was a threat, so you know, what was left of my pride could be reconciled with the fact I was gonna die like this after all the years of swearing I'd go down in a blaze of glory.

They half dragged me, half carried me along the same path as Lance's blood… kinda poetic and my head had bowed. I wasn't giving up goddamnit but I was too weak… too weak to do much else.

They threw me into what had been a medical supply closet and I realised that it was tiny, dark and that they were putting me in there with a corpse without half his face. They undid the ropes – fuck knows why, and then pushed me to the floor which seemed cold but nice. Comfy. I finally vomited, ugh, all over the floor but there was nothing in my stomach so it was all bile and liquid and it hurt every muscle in my stomach and my back. I wiped my hand across my face weakly and realised I hadn't been locked in yet and I turned a little to see Zee in the doorway looking kinda sad.

"Don't do what the guy says," I said.

"Roth pays for the hospital. Pays for us to have our families looked after. Is gonna pay for us to get off the colony when he releases the virus."

I blinked, dumbly. Guy was called Roth and he promised the world to the kids. In exchange, you explode shit, kill people and help unleash a virus. And he doesn't raise a finger. Well, damn.

"Don't trust him… I can help."

She looked at me, I didn't wanna know how bad I looked, covered in blood and my own sick… I'm guessing I ain't a pretty picture.

"Sorry," she said, real quiet. "I really am."

And she closed the door leaving me in total darkness. Aw fuck.