Disclaimer: I don't own a thing (as sad as that realization is), except for the words I've written.
Warnings: Rated for adult language (Duo's got quite a surly mouth and mind), some violence, and mild adult themes.
Maxwell
Chapter 5: Superstition Ain't The Way
Superstition - Stevie Wonder
Being that Heero hadn't seen the punch coming it was fairly impressive that his reflexes were still just a sharp as when Duo had last seen him. Or at least the last time he had seen him alive. The man dodged the fist flying at his face with mere centimeters to spare and within a split second they were locked in combat that neither of them could have predicted. But shit, what would anyone else expect from the two stubborn and impossibly impulsive men?
Heero swept a foot in an arch out towards the braided man's ankles, knocking him swiftly to the floor and pouncing, but Duo was ready, bringing his feet up to hit his attacker hard in the solar plexus sending him backwards into the wall next to the still open hotel room door. With a grunt Heero pushed off the wall and swung a fist towards Duo's head, the other barely able to evade it, a small clip on the jaw pushing him off a step. Everything was like fucking clockwork, both stepping in time to each other's movements.
"Throwing punches already?" Heero grunted out as he grabbed ahold of Duo's wrist and spun around. He pulled hard forcing Duo's arm onto his shoulder, shifting all of his strength in order to fling the man over and onto his back with a thud.
"Seems appropriate, don't it?" Duo gasped out, staring up at Heero's dark blue eyes in slight shock, the wind having been knocked from his body on impact.
From his upside down view Heero glared into indigo and then in one swift motion Duo had kicked his feet up and heaved his body back into a standing position causing Heero to back up slightly.
"Out of all your options, this is how you're choosing to greet me?" Heero bit out. Both men were now circling one another, neither ready to surrender, neither truly understanding the meaning for the fight, but both damn well sure they were going to win. Like a fucking lion stalking its prey.
"Was that fuckin' sarcasm, Yuy? Gotten a sense of humor in your old age?" Duo bit out, a sparkle of amusement in his eyes. Shit it had been too long since their last bantering conversation; Heero was very much alive and this was fucking glorious.
The image of the autopsy and the cold metal table Heero's lifeless body had been laying on filtered out of Duo's mind replaced with memories of times he'd tried to forget about with alcohol and bad decisions. Fuck, suddenly everything seemed to be just as it was before he'd abandoned that damn hospital on X-18999 and never looked back. What the hell was karma playing at now?
His eyes flicked to the floor. That damn fucking photograph of Heero and Trowa laid between them, face down now, but Duo could picture it in his mind, searing a hole in his brain. What a fucking inopportune time for the man to decide to rise from the dead.
Still standing his ground, Heero nearly laughed at his words, but didn't because, shit, why waste the energy? He stared at Duo and the braided man could feel his steely eyes roving the top of his head, specifically the shaven right side covered in chestnut fuzz and scar tissue.
"What happened to you?"
"Oh, Heero you noticed my new look?" Duo crooned, his words dripping sardonic cynicism. His fists still clenched. Now really wasn't the time for sharing fucking sob stories.
There was a moment where Heero considered finally ending this incessantly idiotic display when a powerful hand grabbed the back of his neck thrusting his body backwards into the wall. Within a second the forearm belonging to said powerful hand found a strangling place against his throat, effectively pinning him. Wufei glared at the imprisoned man before him, his other hand hovering just above the gun tucked into the back waistband of his Preventer uniform, but from Duo's perspective of the situation, Heero wasn't about to attempt escape.
Wufei narrowed his eyes and when he spoke his tone was colder than ever. "You and I are the same..."
Without missing a beat Heero finished the sentence in a rough voice due to the pressure on his wind pipe. "We are only able to acknowledge our existence on the battlefield."
Almost immediately Wufei released his hold on the other man, Heero taking a stumbling step forward, catching himself.
"What the fuck was that?" Duo blurted out, staring at the two before him with incredulous eyes. Shit, why did everyone around here have to act so fucking mysterious all the time? He shook his head, placing hands on his hips waiting for a response.
Wufei gave him a bland look. "I've got an autopsy report that say's he's dead," he explained in a matter of fact way, pointing a hand towards the brunette man. "That was an old conversation only the real Heero Yuy would have memory of."
Duo stared at him with sharp eyes, crossing his arms. Damn Wufei always had a fucking good answer for everything. "Now will you believe me and stop giving me shit, 'Fei?"
Wufei, clearly begrudgingly, nodded, but before he could say anything more, Heero stepped forward with a quirked eyebrow. "What autopsy report?"
Duo turned, regaining some of his composure since their scuffle, though the newest photograph still haunted his mind. "Heero, fuck, hate to break it to you but you're supposed to be dead," he said with a shrug. "According to Preventer that is."
Heero's stony face did not change emotion. "What?"
"Weren't you paying attention to what I just said, Heero!?" Duo's arms waved in the air and then flopped to his side, sighing roughly. Wufei decided to take a different approach, walked over to the coffee table, picked up the autopsy report and handed it to Heero without a word.
They watched as shadowy blue eyes studied the image of himself, which must have been fucking spooky to look at, lying cold and dead in a Preventer morgue. "Fingerprints?" he muttered under his breath. Wufei unconsciously nodded having read the report enough times to practically memorize it, though Heero never looked up from the pages in his hands.
"Am I missing all the new excitement?" Still Heero did not look up, but Duo jumped at the soft words. Trowa stood in the doorway to the shared double room, his hair still damp from the shower, the wet strands hanging over one green eye as he stared at them. An impulsive growl formed in the back of Duo's throat as his vision once again found the turned over image on the floor.
Trowa, having noticed the nearly imperceptible movement, took several quick strides forward and reached the photograph before Duo could, pulling it up and away from the other man's fingers with interest.
"Another photograph?"
"Get a good look, Tro, because it's gonna be the last thing you fuckin' see!"
There was a moment when Duo's fist was brought back and Trowa's vision looked up from the image he held in order to view the jealous contempt in the other man's eyes before Heero was yet again pouncing on the braided man, grabbing his wrist and twisting it painfully behind his back.
"Don't you ever learn?" he hissed through clenched teeth.
Duo struggled like a child as the man's other arm wrapped around his midsection. "Fuck, Heero, let me go you stupid, bionic son of a bitch!"
Trowa took a slow step backwards from the two. He looked at the picture one more time and the corners of his lips pulled upward which only caused Duo to jump forward harder and pull against Heero's unrelenting grip. Trowa's smirk faded instantly.
"Duo, this is a set up," Trowa said, gesturing towards the image.
"A set up?"
There was a nod. "All of these photographs we have been sent. Someone is trying to get a rise out of us, scare us, get us back together, whatever. But I just haven't been able to quite figure out why."
Duo slackened and felt Heero release him. He rubbed at his wrist, shooting his previous captor an icy glare. "You never mentioned that you've been getting these fucked up pictures too. But what the hell am I supposed to think when I see that?" he shouted, pointing to the intimate image still in Trowa's possession.
Heero picked up his autopsy and started examining it again, almost uncomfortably. Trowa shrugged, staring down at the photograph. "This was probably taken a long time ago. It looks like Heero is still injured from his self-destruction, you can see the bandages if you look closely. Someone cropped it knowing how to play to your weakness, Duo."
A fierce blush assaulted Duo's cheeks. He licked his lips and attempted to immediately change the subject. Shit, he felt silly about the jealousy thing and Trowa had a point about these damn fishy photographs, but mainly he didn't like that the man had referred to Heero as one of his weaknesses. All he fucking needed right now was that awkward conversation.
Duo watched as Heero's eyes narrowed, staring down at the mirrored version of his dead self. Fuckin' creepy shit. "Want to explain to us your human body double there, Heero?"
His dark eyes flicked up, the irritation residing in their depths quickly replaced with uncommon confusion. "Another set up?" He shrugged. Usually Heero always had a good fucking answer like Wufei, but this time he seemed completely at a loss. Something was off, like he was holding something back.
Heero's vision roamed the three faces staring at his surprising mortality, then moved about the room until it landed on the laptop sitting on the coffee table. The little white flash drive was still stuck into its port and Duo saw Wufei's fists clench. Shit, not good. You don't break into Heero Yuy's shit.
Walking to the couch without hesitation, Heero sat down and threw open the laptop, being greeted by an all too familiar list of names. His teeth clenched and shoulders tensed. Shit, really not good.
Heero didn't turn around. "Where did you get this?" His words were sharp. Shit, really fucking not good.
Duo scratched the back of his head nervously, but Wufei spoke before the braided man could dig himself into a grave that was probably inevitable, but he was going to stave it off as long as he could, for all their sake's. "Wouldn't you rather it in our hands than in the hands of whoever broke into 'Duo Maxwell's' safe deposit box?"
Heero's muscles visibly slackened. He seemed to be mulling something over in his mind as he continued to stare at the computer screen. "You've all received photographs then?"
"The only picture I've gotten was the one of your dead body," Wufei replied in a monotone.
"Apparently we've both gotten those fun little presents." Duo hooked a thumb in Trowa's direction and the other man nodded in agreement. "And Quatre too according to his sister."
Heero turned around to face them again. "Quatre?"
"Yeah, you remember him don't you 'Ro? Blond, too empathetic for his own good, Winner Corp CEO and all that shit." Duo asked with sarcasm sparking off his tongue.
A steely look of daggers assaulted him, nearly knocking him backwards. Shit, those death-glares hadn't lost their potency. "I mean we're all here for once," Heero gestured around the room. "Where is Quatre?"
A throat cleared and drew all attention to the tall man whose arms were folded over his chest and was leaning against the wall eyeing the group. Trowa's lips were set in a grim line. "I might have an idea of where to start."
The car ride was quiet save for the soft conversation taking place between driver and passenger. Heero and Wufei sat up front in the Preventer issued, black sedan while Trowa and Duo occupied the back. The braided man sat behind Wufei so that he could see the side of Heero's face as the man looked straight out the windshield, barley an expression on his solid features. Fuckin' inscrutable as ever.
Every once in a while he and Wufei murmured about something, but with the faint sound of a news channel piping through the radio, Duo could only make out bits and pieces. Damn unfortunate too, his curiosity about Heero ready to boil over.
He heard the words undercover, Relena, security, photographs, Moscow, and investigation. Fuck, how was he supposed to be able to decipher any of that? Of course, there was a reason for their low tones, but hell why did Wufei get the sneak peek into Heero's life? Fuckin' Preventer.
The car travelled swiftly away from their hotel and towards a destination Trowa had vaguely revealed earlier. All four men, though all having different things on their minds, sat with pits in their stomachs.
Damn the circumstances that were suddenly bringing them together and damn whoever was causing those circumstances. Mysterious persons better beware, if they couldn't find Quatre there'd be more than just hell to pay.
A man with a name unknown watched the black sedan leaving the hotel with careful eyes. His own car, a Crown Vic of older, less sleek proportions sat a block away, his face hidden within the shadows of the dark upholstery and turned down visor. He pulled out a cell phone and dialed his employer.
"There are four of them now. You'll think I'm mad, but the fourth one bares an uncanny resemblance to Heero Yuy, though this man is very much alive." He paused for a moment, listening. "I'll keep a weather eye out. It's like that gathering of clans over here. It's working like a damn charm."
The neighborhood the black sedan entered was quiet and upscale, reminding Duo again of his current state and the fact that everyone seemed to be making it save for himself. The high rise condominium building they pulled up to was completely built of glass, the morning's sun shining off the windows, fiberglass patio's residing on every floor attached to each separate residence.
"How do you know about this place again, Tro?" Duo wondered, leaning forward to gaze out the front windshield, new anxiety building in the back of his mind.
Trowa, who was also looking out, but through his own window, shrugged. "Quatre and I have kept in touch."
Duo felt a sarcastically crude comment bubble in the back of his throat but decided, due to the current proceedings and the glares he was sure to receive from up front, forced the thought back down, laughing silently at himself in his own mind. How stupid could he have been to actually let himself get a rise out of that fucking photograph of Trowa and Heero? He knew better than most the sort of feelings shared between the tall man and petite blond. It wasn't hard to figure that unspoken shit out.
They pulled across the street from the large building, apparently holding a secret Winner safe-house, and all four men got out too look up at the exorbitantly, modern structure.
"What floor?" Wufei asked.
"Second."
Duo snorted. "And here I thought Quat would have the entire top floor all for himself."
Trowa gave him a sidelong glance. "It's a safe-house. A penthouse wouldn't be very inconspicuous."
Duo shrugged and Heero spoke up. "I'm assuming we can't just walk in the front door."
"No," Trowa said, shaking his head. He walked around to the trunk of the car, waited for Wufei to unlock it, and pulled out the bag the Preventer had packed before they left.
Duo eyed it uneasily, wondering what kind of bag of tricks the men had put together. Guns, knives, explosives who knows, Trowa seemed to favor them all. But to his surprise the man opened the bag to give them all a look inside at a simple grappling hook and rope.
Suddenly he had a fucking bad feeling about this.
Duo found himself standing lookout at the back of the large complex. Though it was midmorning, there was no one around, probably all at work he supposed. Shit, sometimes he thought maybe he should just find a damn boring desk job so that he didn't find himself in such nerve wracking and compromising situations. But hell, where was the fun in that?
Wufei paced briskly back and forth from one edge of the building to the other, his Preventer handgun positioned in it's holster. He looked around the corner every time he reached one, his eyes sharp. He seemed just as fucking nervous though would never voice it like Duo had already done several times.
Breaking and entering had never been something he felt wrong about doing, in fact he usually enjoyed it. But, breaking into Quatre Winner's safe house had somehow struck a nerve. Maybe it had to do with the fact that the man had been categorically missing and it was too fucking scary to think of what they might find in that glass encased condo.
"Being a Preventer I thought you wouldn't condone this kind of criminal activity," Duo joked in a hushed tone as Wufei stalked past him.
"We have probable cause to investigate," came a reply over the man's shoulder. He didn't fully answer the statement, rather fucking skirted around the accusation, but still Duo smirked. Once a pilot, always a pilot, Preventer or not.
Looking up, he watched as Trowa leaped from the rope hooked to the condo's patio with ease, grabbing the railing and pulling himself over landing without a sound. Fucking tightrope walker.
Heero followed closely behind, having been elected to be the second invader due to his agile abilities and skills at rewiring the intricate security system Trowa had explained to them earlier. Duo had grumbled, arguing that his skills were just as adept, but one piercing look from Heero and he'd shut up, saying he didn't feel like scaling a fucking glass building anyways.
As both men approached the condo's sliding glass door Duo could just make out their movements if he stood far enough away from the building, still keeping his wits about him as a good lookout always should, according to Mr. Preventer Man.
Trowa pulled a set of ceramic knuckles from the pocket of his dark pants that matched his dark grey shirt, completing his nondescript look. Duo had seen knuckles like that before, molded from some kind of mineral powder, pressurized, and bound with a type of epoxy adhesive. They were probably stronger than steel or brass and seemed to fit well with Trowa's unique and enigmatic personality.
The man slid them over his own knuckles and made a fist in order to tap them against the glass next to the door's handle. They would only have fifteen seconds to disarm the alarm once the condo was breached before anyone, probably Preventer or the Maganacs, could be notified. Trowa hit the glass again, slightly harder this time, and the glass broke into a spidery, circular shape from the impact. His dexterity was so great that he'd pulled back his hand before any glass came into contact with his real knuckles. He pushed away some extra shards of glass and then, taking the knuckles off and placing them back into his pocket, he slipped a thin arm inside and flicked the door's lock up.
Immediately, even on the ground below, the sound of a beeping alarm could be heard. Both men slipped into the condo and within seconds the noise was replaced with silence. Fuck, maybe Heero was the best man for the job. But never would Duo ever admit that to the smug son of a bitch's face.
Peeking around the corner, Wufei flicked his fingers and Duo followed him around to the front of the building. There was a familiar buzz and the door clicked open and the two men entered, finding the stairwell. They took the stairs two at a time, the fact that Wufei seemed to be unconsciously racing the braided man to the second floor made Duo grin roguishly. Always a fucking competition.
When they arrived at their desired destination, the door was cracked open. Each man looked left and right and then slipped into the condo, closing the door quietly behind them.
"Well that was fucking easy," Duo grunted, staring at his pristine surroundings. It was completely desolate, but there was a hellish odor floating about the open floor plan like rotting flesh that made his nose wrinkle and his stomach churn.
"Smell's like something died in here." He realized the gravity of his joking words the minute they left his unruly mouth. Shit. Trowa gave him a stare that sent chills through his spine. Not the time for fucking jokes when one of their own was MIA and another was supposed to be dead.
Heero made his way swiftly to the kitchen and found a large, double door refrigerator. Duo followed, hanging back slightly placing his hands on the granite countertop on the island between them. There was a sickening moment before the refrigerator doors were pulled open when he half expected to see dismembered body parts dripping in red stacked on the cold shelves.
The horrid aroma grew exponentially as the appliance was opened. Contrary to Duo's B-horror movie thoughts, the refrigerator merely held some rotting packages of chicken, beef, and graying vegetables that seemed untouched for a long while. Damn disgusting shit, but better than fucking body parts.
Heero placed the back of his hand over his nose. "Looks like someone was living here, recently enough to have bought groceries."
Trowa stepped forward as Heero closed the door in order to relieve them slightly of the odor. "It's as if when he last left he expected to return." He eyed a mug and spoon in the sink and a stale looking half-full pot of coffee on the counter.
"Iria was right. He did receive at least one photograph," Wufei announced from the living area. He held an empty, torn manila envelope in his hand, studying the block letter's of the name 'Winner' written in black ink. "Just like yours," he added, looking to Duo.
They spent the next half an hour sweeping the entire apartment, but coming up with jack fucking shit. Afterwards, all four stood in the living room, staring at the envelope harboring Quatre's last name. Duo turned to Wufei and spoke through clenched teeth. "Well this was a damn dead end."
Trowa, having overheard the braided man, shook his head and spoke in a slightly disheartened voice. "Not necessarily. We know that when he left it wasn't planned."
Shit, it was true, but it was ominous and not the greatest fucking thing to think about. Of course, there was still no evidence that he hadn't left at his own accord, but the severity of the situation was beginning to catch up with all of them. The possibilities were unpredictable.
"We better get going, neighbors might have seen us," Heero instructed to break the silence.
The group made their way back down the stairwell and out the front of the building trying to act as inconspicuous as possible. Trowa hoisted the bag containing the rope and grappling hook onto his shoulder. Wufei fished the car keys from his pocket. Heero cracked his knuckles almost anxiously. Duo stopped dead in his tracks behind the other three.
He looked back at the building, no onlookers, no suspicious eyes from atop balconies. But, as his own eyes drifted back towards the others, he saw a black Crown Victoria parked thirty yards away.
Fucking facing them. A figure behind the wheel, watching.