L2's Child
Chapter 11
by Nix Winter
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or Naruto. This story is mine though.
WARNING: Sick Duo, mpreg, murderous Heero, Wu, and Trowa, flashback to Duo's childhood, death, plague, violence, cadavers..
Chapter 11
"Heero."
Heero's head snapped around. A distant quality to Duo's voice drew him. His mind compared the quality of voice to all the other times Duo had said his name, information processing demi-conscious. Warrior reflexes and speed wanted to fight whatever it was, whatever unnamed thing that made Duo's voice waver.
Standing by the couch, face pale, slender tangles of brown hair by his face, his lips still open from having called Heero's name, Heero's mind took that snapshot, as if it could hold time back. Heero ran. Duo's eyes dimmed, intelligence fading, strength crumpling on the left. Arms out, Heero lunged, catching Duo mid drop. He lowered them both to the floor. His own breathing sounded too loud, irritating. Duo's breathing, shallow and fluttery echoed against Heero's arms, too quiet to be heard. The television show screamed and clattered in the background. Eggs burned, loud and sizzling.
Heero touched his ear, activating the headset and the number one speed dial.
"Emergency services. How can we help you, Mr. Yuy?"
"Immediate extraction required. 02 down, repeat, immediate extraction required."
"Acknowledged. Personnel en route. Is Mr. Maxwell conscious?"
"Negative," Heero said, gently prying Duo's eye lids open. "He was fine, just a moment ago. He's got a fever, eyes dilated, breathing shallow. He's pale… I think he's in pain. Hurry."
The door shook as someone banged on it. Heero gave Duo a gentle hug, a primitive instinct needing to hold onto him, even though the more rational part of him knew he had to release the security system or help would not get into the apartment. He left Duo laying on the floor, braid trailing after him, like a spirit reaching for him.
Mouth dry, he opened the door. Three medical people pushed in.
"I'm Dr. Canson," the lead said. "How long has he been like this?"
"Four minutes, thirty-six seconds," Heero said, not sure why his hand was knotted up in his tee-shirt.
These were medical people that Quatre had arranged, he reminded himself. They were not L2 standard, minimum wage responders. They were skilled and trustworthy. The cloth of Heero's shirt twisted under the stress as they cut away Duo's clothes with a horrible efficiency. So fragile, life could be so fragile. Inflexible wet came into being on Heero's cheeks, impossible sliding down his face, keeping time for his soul.
Metal ground does not grow weeds. Organic materials still decay. He no longer smelled the sweet rot clinging to the air. He squatted, pale fingers, grayed by the dirt trying to turn L2 from metal to earth, the entropy pulling design back into nature even where design hung between worlds without the sense to fall. Hair matted, grayed, only violet eyes shone with violent life. He crept back, away from the threats closing in on him.
Tall, taller than the broken car in the barricaded road, they fanned out a bit. Wearing camouflage, biohazard suits that covered their faces with a reflective shield, hiding them, they carried weapons. He didn't know the one, it's broad nozzle and hose seemed strange, extra dangerous. The other two were simple riffles.
On the balls of his bare feet, fingertips dancing over the ground as he moved, thinking how to steal one of the riffles… he sized them up.
He couldn't run. Solo hadn't woken up, yet. The older boy was tucked behind him, knees bent, head resting on them. They'd pulled a seat from the broken car, wedged it into a broken shipping crate. Solo hadn't been feeling good, so Duo had been guarding. He snarled at the invaders.
A riffle aimed at him. He snarled again. Solo would wake up. Soon. They'd steal the riffle together! The other invader with a riffle reached over and forced the other's barrel down. Duo backed up even more, a small hand reaching back to Solo's shirt. He needed to wake up. They had to run. He gripped the fabric, pulling at it to wake his friend. Cold wet hit his palm and he turned, to look. Solo's eyes stared at him, milky and cold. Slowly he looked at his hand, the dark decay.
A hand grabbed the back of his shirt, jerking him back.
Flame snapped out of the broad barreled weapon, bathing and crackling over Solo. Duo screamed kicking at only air.
Ashe fluttered on convection winds, but Solo had run away.
The captor who had pointed the riffle at him leaned close, studying him. "There's no way it's not infected too. Not worth a bullet," he said, suggestively.
"We ain't cooking'im alive," the one holding Duo up said. "You pervert."
"Like letting him starve or die alone is a gift?"
The hand let him go and he hit the ground like a cat, running as soon as he got purchase. Less than half their height, he could still out run them, get into smaller places. There was a place, once apartments before an explosion had made them so much rubble. Duo scrambled over the ruined concrete and steel. finding a corner that he knew. It's where Solo had first found him. The single skeletal fingertip wedged between crushing slabs lay unbleached by the weak artificial sunlight on L2. There had been a blanket once, the edge of it trapped under that same slab, dark cotton with a print of stars. Duo remembered it, but he didn't remember the name of the boy it had belonged to. Curled in on himself, he pretended that blanket was wrapped around him now. A woman's voice, faint in his memory, promised him tomorrow would be a wonderful day, sang to him, a happy song. She didn't know he was crying and he didn't mind that she didn't know.
The L2 hospital was sterile, modern. Heero kept telling himself that. Duo lay under hospital blankets, an oxygen mask on his face, dark circles under his eyes.
"Heero," Trowa said, announcing his presence.
"Heero," Wufei said as well, voice softer, seething with an anger that had rivaled Duo's shinigami in the war.
"It's a coma," Heero said, caressing Duo's hand, running a fingertip around the edge of one chewed fingernail. "He was watching TV, then he collapsed. I'm going to find whoever did this to him. They are going to tell me how to help him."
"And then we'll kill them," Wufei said softly, arms crossed.
"But not until Duo's better," Heero said, turning Duo's hand over so he could trace his life line. "After, then we'll kill them."