After Dark
Part XVII
By Mieren
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For a full week, not one of the pilots came within twenty miles of the braided menace that piloted Deathscythe. The reason was perfectly clear. Roughly once every one or two hours, something exploded with enough force to cause whatever dwelling the brunette was occupying to either liquefy, ignite or send shrapnel flying in all directions for miles. Sometimes, it was all three at once. The prospect of melting, fiery, flying wood was more than enough to cause the other pilots to keep their distance. Only the emails from Duo reassured them that he had survived his own insanity. That and the fact that Wufei was still alive after all of the explosions, even if he was twitching like a bunny on speed.
Then the day came. One email from Duo stated a simple line of text that both emboldened and terrified the other four pilots from the enthused madman.
I got it!
"Allah," Quatre muttered, eyes threatening to bulge from his head.
"What is it?" Wufei asked, swiveling his head to the terrified blond.
"He figured it out," the smallest pilot squeaked. That caught everyone's attention.
"Thirty two…" Wufei managed. "I've seen eighteen…"
"How do we even know that Xellos is still alive?" Heero broke in.
"O said that he was," Trowa responded blandly.
"And you trust him?" Wufei asked sarcastically. He knew the man better than the other four and didn't think that such a thing could be possible. He had seen Duo's attack and he suspected that O had been bluffing.
Quatre frowned, closing his eyes for a moment, unaware that the other three pilots present were watching him intently as he blindly groped for any aura that resembled the demon's. Aquamarine eyes opened slowly, a faint hint of light shimmering in the half-lidded orbs. "He's alive," the blond confirmed slowly. "And positively furious." He paused again, the light in his eyes flickering brightly once more before fading back to azure. "Duo… has something… purple… and there are tubes… no, syringes." He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I can't read his mind clearly. He's deliberately keeping it in a state of constant flux so that Xellos can't see his plans either."
"Then how can you?" Wufei asked slowly. Quatre shrugged.
"I know how his mind works better than Xellos does."
"Sure ya do, Quat!" Duo said cheerfully as he leapt through an open window, cloaked in dense black garments befitting the grim reaper. He didn't even pause when several guns were automatically aimed in his direction before slowly being lowered.
"It's still daylight," Trowa said, the first to lower his gun. The tone of his voice clearly was questioning how he was able to move around. "And you just sent that email from halfway across the world."
"No, I rerouted it from just outside. If I'm correct on just how mad the freak is concerned, he's probably been monitoring our communication," Duo answered with a hidden smirk. "And as far as the sun… lots of dark clothing, even more sunscreen and a great set of shades." His gloved hands started pulling blinds shut to snuff out any hint of natural light. Three of the other four pilots began covering windows when Heero cut them off rather promptly.
"There is a basement," he said drolly.
"Great thinking, He-chan!" Duo cheered, eyes scouring the floor for a trap door. Seeing none, he kicked a threadbare rug to the side. Heero cleared his throat. In front of the Japanese teen was a door that Duo had automatically written off as a closet.
"Baka," Heero smirked. Naturally, Duo ignored the insult.
The braided menace was already out of sight and down the stairs faster than anyone could blink. His voice followed the blurred vision of his form. "Everyone down here!"
Wufei was the first to follow, cutting even Heero off. Whether it was from trust in the brunette's hazardous new idea or Duo's natural pull on his mind, no one was quite sure. Heero was right on his heels, leaving Trowa and Quatre to follow. The blond closed the door behind him since someone preceding him had already found the hanging light downstairs and yanked the dangling cord.
Duo had already shucked his black hooded cloak. Seeing a distinct lack of tables, he casually began unloading his pockets onto the top of a washing machine that had seen better days. On it, they saw two vials of unidentifiable liquids, one red and one purple. A length of rubber tubing sat next to two syringes, one small, and the other enormous. For some reason they didn't quite understand, the large syringe was made of glass, five lines marked off down the length at strange intervals.
"Everyone but Heero, roll up your sleeves," Duo instructed, picking up the length of elastic tubing. "Quatre, you're first."
The other four pilots exchanged bizarre expressions, starting to wonder exactly what the nutcase had been doing in his absence.
"Duo," the blond said nervously. "What are you…"
The braided menace just smirked, his almost psychotic expression cutting off his friend mid-question. He already had Quatre's arm in his left hand, his right pushing up his friend's sleeve, the tube hanging from his pinky finger. The length of rubber was twirled around the blonde's arm just above his elbow expertly, tying it off.
"Needles are sterile," Duo said absently. Aquamarine eyes flickered to the hint of clear fluid contained right next to the plunger. "Heparin," he answered absently to the silent question. "The blood won't clot."
Before Quatre could say another word, he had uncapped the large glass syringe with his teeth and stuck the fat needle into the blonde's arm. To his credit, Quatre didn't even flinch when he saw Duo smoothly draw a measure of his blood up to the first line on an unexplained measuring system. Recapping the syringe, he dropped it into a pocket to keep his hands free. The smaller syringe replaced it immediately, entering the same hole the previous, larger needle had left. This time, the syringe was filled to the tip.
"Blood of the warlock," Duo smirked as he capped the smaller needle and placed it in his pocket, swapping it out with the larger, partially filled syringe. He pulled the tie off of Quatre's arm and turned to Wufei. "Blood of the only human present," he continued.
Wufei almost opened his mouth to protest when he felt his entire body freeze against his command. He could only glare when his left arm rose of its own accord, palm up. Wearing only a tank top, he found his arm similarly tied off as the previously used needle slipped into the inside of his elbow. His blood was drawn to the next mark on the glass syringe, the sharp instrument replaced by the entirely full smaller needle. This time, the blood was pushed into his system. Two strong arms yanked him back, Heero and Trowa glaring at him.
"They don't have the same blood type," Trowa growled. Heero just grunted in silent agreement.
"Doesn't matter," Duo grinned. "Think of Quatre as a special case. Watch."
At the amused response, three sets of eyes snapped from Duo to Wufei, who was beginning to shimmer a pale blue for a few seconds. Scowling, the Chinese pilot yanked the binding off his arm and launched it at the brunette's skull, where it quite naturally bounced off and landed neatly on an upraised knee, the braided boy perfectly content to stand on one leg, Karate Kid style, so that the rubber would land on his thigh instead of the floor.
"Maxwell!" he roared. "What did you…" His temper vanished, brows drawing together in disbelief. "You… you're not there anymore." Duo chuckled as he twisted free of his two captors with ease.
"He bound us, so I figured his blood could unbind us," he said cheerfully. Violet eyes turned to Trowa. "Trowa, afraid you have to be last, Mister Contagious."
Trowa blinked owlishly, tilting his head to the side so that both piercing green eyes could clearly focus on the shorter pilot. His gaze flickered to the two vials of… something… sitting atop the old washing machine. With his body so naturally resilient, he wasn't worried at the thought of blood contamination from either Wufei or Quatre, even if they were carrying dangerous blood as Heero and Duo were. Werewolves were very hard to kill. He volunteered his arm before he was manhandled, simply watching in confusion as the other brunette continued on his unexplained plan. Sure enough, his arm was tied off quickly, blood drawn to the third line on the huge syringe.
"Blood of the werewolf," Duo murmured, almost to himself. He knew the others were hanging on his every word, so he didn't even bother to raise his voice to its normal amplitude as he spoke. He pulled the needle and tourniquet free in one motion, each hand taking on one of the tasks. All four of the other pilots watched him avidly as he approached the two unknown vials. "Blood of the Family Felidae."
"Felidae?" Trowa asked only to be ignored.
The next mark was reached and the mostly empty vial was plunked down, replaced by the unnerving purple solution in the last move of Duo's strange concoction. Duo took a deep breath and started to pull some sort of liquid into the massive syringe, filling it to the fifth and final line. The entire time, he held the fifth drawing perfectly vertical, the violet fluid heavier than the layers of blood remaining settled at the very bottom of the mixture of blood. He exhaled a little shakily, his words so soft that the others had to read his lips to understand what he had said.
"Blood of the Demon."
"What?" someone hissed between clenched teeth. With his eyes fixed on the vial in front of him, Duo couldn't see who it was, but from the direction, he suspected that it was Heero or Trowa, possibly both.
"How did you get that?" a low voice demanded, this time loudly enough for Duo to identify the source as Trowa.
"PCR," Duo said, eyes still glued to the purple in the bottom of the syringe in his right hand while he set down the emptied vial in his left. "Polymerase Chain Reaction."
"We know what PCR is," Heero snapped. "Where did you even get a sample?"
Duo's lips twitched in the approximation of a grim smile. He capped the syringe and slipped it into his pants pocket. When Heero started towards him, he raised his left arm to fend him off before the other teen could complete his first stride. Keeping his left hand up, he started to unbutton his jacket and underlying shirt with his right.
"I raked my fingernails down the bastard's side when I slapped him with that level eighteen biohazard. I cleaned my nails and found something fun to play with," Duo said a bit shakily, tossing his jacket to the floor. "Glass tubes then, glass syringe now."
"Duo," Heero said warningly, his tone indicating that he was going to close in again.
"Level thirty two," Duo countered, pulling his shirt over his head. "Or it will be in a moment." No one bothered him about what level it was at that moment.
"How are you going to raise it?" Quatre asked slowly, eyes unblinking.
Duo pulled the syringe out of his pocket, eyes still glued to the viscous purple mass resting at the bottom of the mix of bloods. Taking a deep breath, he shook the syringe violently too quickly for the eye to follow, forcing the red and purple to mix in a flash of luminescence that faded to show only a vial of nearly translucent lavender fluid. The exothermic reaction was hot enough to cause the skin of Duo's hand to start to smoke. He bared his teeth against the heat, but didn't loosen his grip. The knotting muscles of his jaw triggered his teeth to lengthen to full vampire status.
"FUCK!" Heero yelled, lunging for the braided pilot. Duo bolted to the side, flipping the cap off of the syringe and stabbing the needle directly into his heart. He landed heavily on his shoulder and skidded a few feet on the cold cement floor. All Heero had managed to grasp was the tip of his braid, leaving Wing's pilot holding only a hair band. Easily the fastest among the five, Heero dropped the elastic band and was on top of Duo, tearing the burning glass vial out of Duo's hands and flinging it to the furthest end of the basement while the other three pilots watched in horror. The empty syringe shattered against the brick wall, glass tinkling against the floor in shards before the glass began to melt. Heero pulled the American up to a sitting position by his bare shoulders. Duo's head thumped limply against his chest, his unraveling braid slipping over his shoulder to pool in his lap.
Duo's head lolled to the side, violet eyes staring blankly into the abyss. His chest didn't show the slightest flutter of life, his heart still in his chest, his lungs paralyzed. Heero roughly pulled his chin up to see more clearly into his friend's eyes while roughly feeling for a pulse that his desperate fingers could not find.
"Baka," Heero whispered, lowering his head in an effort to hide his expression beneath his unruly hair.
"Heero?" Quatre asked softly, afraid of what he would hear.
"He's dead."
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To Be Continued…
*Twiddles thumbs and looks far too happy to be sane.* This is fun! Did anyone get level thirty two right? Still guessing, are we?