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.
A/N: I am blown away by your reviews! Thank you for them all, they are so appreciated. I am working on my capstone all day tomorrow so here is Chapter 7 a day early. Things are about to really heat up. Enjoy.
Maxwell
Chapter 7: With Care From Someone
With Care From Someone - Dillard & Clark
Quatre sat in the middle of the backseat, having opted to leave the slightly conspicuous town car for their more discreet vehicle. He sent the driver away with a flick of his hand. Good ole Winner money.
It was a lucky thing there was only five of them, otherwise they'd be traveling separately. That would have been fucking inconvenient; of course piling into the backseat of Heero's compact car was also slightly inconvenient.
"Where do we go now?" Heero said from behind the wheel. His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror and stared at indigo ones for a moment too long. Duo looked away and out the window. A damn blush crept onto his cheeks.
Quatre answered the question. "How about the Sanc Grand Central. It's close and fairly discreet compared to some other hotel options."
"And expensive," Duo muttered, his chin in his hand, still looking out the window, the blush finally lifting.
Quatre eyed him with a sidelong smirk. Wufei turned slightly in the front seat to face the blond. "Maxwell's broke."
"I am not," Duo bit out, glaring at the Chinese man, trying to hold back the urge to stick his tongue out in defiant immaturity.
"I found him in a hotel room barely suitable for hookers." It was probably the most amusing thing Wufei had ever fucking said, but since it was directed at him, Duo couldn't laugh. He only grit his teeth and sneered in the man's direction.
"I haven't exactly been working lately. So sue me, Chang."
"Lately?" Now it was Heero's turn to chide the braided man. "You've never worked, not even during the war." There was a barely imperceptible hint of humor in his rude words. His eyes flashed in the rearview mirror again.
Duo crossed his arms and frowned. Trowa let out a soft chuckle from his seat next to the other back window.
"He's become quite sensitive about money," Wufei said, turning around to face forward in his seat again.
Quatre stifled a laugh. "Oh, Duo." His words were concerned and sympathetic.
"You guys are assholes," Duo grumbled, his brows furrowing deeply.
"They're only joking," Quatre said quietly from next to him, a small smile on his face.
Duo grunted. "At a time like this? It's just in poor taste."
This got a rouse from everyone in the car and soon even Duo found himself chuckling at the recent banter. It seemed that having everyone together, and alive, had lightened the moods within the five men. Hell, everything seemed to fall back into place easier than one would think, like nothing had changed over the past three years.
But the ex-pilots knew better than to think everything would be easy now that they were together, in fact they knew, deep down, that the biggest of their troubles were just beginning.
When they arrived at the hotel, Quatre putting down his personal credit card this time, the men found themselves gathered in one of the second floor suite's bedrooms. Duo sprawled on the bed he had apparently claimed, his ankles crossed, arms behind his head, seemingly relaxed though his muscles were still tense. Heero sat in an armchair in the corner, his eyes glued to his computer screen. Trowa and Quatre occupied the other bed, sitting side by side near the corner, but not so close as to suggest anything, the tall man leaning his forearms against his knees while the other stretched his arms back on his palms. Wufei chose to stand, arms crossed, leaning against the wall by the doorway. Everything was just so damn typical of the young men.
They hadn't all been in the same room together since the war. The picture of the five of them, just young teens, sitting aboard Peacemillion flashed into Duo's mind. Hell, in all honesty he never thought he'd see the day when they were back together again, it was kind of uncanny.
"So you were literally underground this whole time?" The words felt odd on Duo's tongue as he spoke, though Quatre's story was just odd to begin with.
The blond nodded. "Protective custody as Rashid liked to call it. Though, holding someone against their will doesn't seem like protective custody to me." He smiled wryly.
"It was for your own good," Trowa said. Fucking protective as always.
Quatre actually rolled his eyes. "If it was for my own good then you all should have been forced into protective custody as well. Now I know that I'm not the only one who received these curious photographs."
"Curious?" Duo scoffed. "Try 'fucked up', Quat."
"Yes." Quatre sighed with a resigned nod. "The photograph that roused Rashid most was of myself on a business trip in the colonies. Though it wasn't taken while I was representing Winner Corp, but...while I was visiting Trowa. Unofficially, off the clock, no one around, or so I thought. That's what put Rashid and the Maganacs over the edge. So, yes, Duo I agree that it was 'fucked up.'"
There was an air of tensity after his words and it had nothing to do with the fact that he had inadvertently cursed. Trowa actually looked flustered by the confession of their apparent visitation. Duo smirked for a moment, but realized it still wasn't time for snide remarks.
"So how'd you convince Rashid to let you out?" Wufei wondered, his eyes not leaving the ground.
Quatre pursed his lips, staring at the Preventer. It was obvious that even the amusing goading in the car hadn't quite roused him from the episode with Sean Davis earlier that day. They'd explained everything to him in detail on the way to the hotel. "Actually, Wufei, your messages played a big role. I'm glad you were so...persistent."
Wufei snorted. "No problem."
"I have a new number now though. That phone was feared to be compromised. Maganac paranoia I'm afraid." Quatre looked to Heero's unmoving form and then to Duo's seemingly lackadaisical position. He sighed, "Why is it that I see you all only when something terrible is taking place."
"Terrible is a strong word." It was the first time Heero had spoken since they'd checked in.
Duo laughed out loud. "You don't think that you being dropped out of thin air wasn't pretty fucking terrible, Heero?"
Heero looked up from his computer, his face completely serious. "That wasn't me. So no."
The braided man swallowed hard. Cold fucking Heero at it again.
"There's one thing I don't understand," Quatre said before Duo interrupted him with a cheeky grin.
"Just one thing, Quat?"
The blond tried to ignore the insatiable man, but still amended his words. "Okay. One of many things I don't understand are the initials left for you, Heero. If our mysterious photographer, or messenger, or what have you, left their initials, obviously they want us to find them, eventually at least."
Duo unfurled his arms from behind his head and scooted into a seated criss-cross position. "Maybe not so obviously. Have you seen Heero's never ending list of possibilities?"
"Hn," Heero grunted in response. "You haven't seen my most recent list, Maxwell."
About to retort, Duo found his words taken right out of his mouth as Trowa spoke up, as if reading his mind. "Care to share it with us, Heero?"
Heero shrugged as if it didn't seem like a priority to him. "Five names. All victims of the war and destruction by the Gundams. Regardless of our intention we have managed to alienate many citizens of the ESUN."
Quatre furrowed his brows in concern. "Yes, but in a time like this, with the Gundams gone, how could there still be so much unrest? Why would someone wait till now to send us these photographs?"
"Whoever it is, their mission was to get us back together." Heero's words hung in the room between the five men. It was damn terrifying how true the statement was. Shit, there they all were, back together in one room like cattle to slaughter. Maybe they'd played straight into their opponent's hands, but if someone was going to mess with one of them, they were inadvertently going to be messing with all of them, regardless of if they were physically together or not.
"I have an interface call with Une in about ten minutes," Wufei changed the subject, glancing at his watch.
"Looks like we'll be having a brief intermission, gentlemen," Duo quipped, nodding in the Chinese man's direction.
Wufei pushed off the wall and turned with a little solute specifically in the braided man's direction before heading down to the hotel's conference center. At this movement Quatre also stood, stretching his thin legs. "I'm in need of some fresh air. I've missed so many beautiful days being underground with the Maganacs."
Duo had to stifle a laugh at how quickly Trowa stood up next to the petite blond. "I'll go with you."
Quatre smiled wanly in his direction and before anymore words were spoken, the two men were gone. It had all happened so fast that Duo hadn't even realized that now he was alone in the room with Heero Yuy, the man still staring intently at his laptop, ignoring his braided companion.
Fuck. Karma nudging at him for snickering at Trowa, no doubt.
Well now what was he supposed to do? He noted to himself to remember to scold Quatre for purposely leaving them to their own devices. He knew the blond well enough to know when he was being pushed. And being pushed into facing his past was not his idea of a relaxing afternoon. He sighed, resigning to the fact that likely none of them would be relaxing, at least not until their apparent stalker was figured out.
"So tell me about the five M.R.'s, Heero." It was Duo's attempt at breaking the ice. It wasn't a good fucking start.
Heero's eyes did not leave the flashing computer screen. "We should all be present. You know that, Maxwell."
Duo shook his head and grinned. "I'm curious. Humor me?"
"Have you ever heard the expression 'curiosity killed the cat?'"
The braided man had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep from laughing. Heero still wouldn't look at him and his tone was so damn monotone that the words sounded completely out of place coming from his mouth. He'd missed this banter with Heero almost as much as he had with Wufei.
Suddenly, feeling a lot braver than earlier when the man's eyes had been regarding him in the rearview mirror, Duo stood up and walked over towards the laptop sitting on Heero's knees. He pushed down the screen until it was closed and waited for a reaction.
The brunette stared up at him quizzically, never truly understanding his oddly childlike ways, sarcastic demeanor, and oftentimes paradoxical disposition. Heero was usually calculating, while Duo was usually spontaneous. Their interactions truly puzzled the man, and yet he couldn't help the tiny feeling of affection he felt towards him. They were grown now, weren't unruly hormones and youthful queries supposed to be beyond them? Besides, it had been three fucking long years...
"Are you really broke?" The abrupt and out of the blue question not only startled Duo, but Heero as well. It took a moment for the other party to respond as he seemed to mull over the odd chain of events silently in his mind.
"No. I get by." Duo could see that the other man wasn't quite convinced, but Heero didn't press the subject.
Instead, he got up from his chair and set the computer down where he had been sitting. He stood in front of Duo, their eyes almost in line, off my a mere inch. Their new proximity caused a pit to form in the braided man's stomach, but he just stared at Heero, waiting for his next move.
"Can I ask you a question?" It was another odd thing for him to say, but Duo nodded anyways.
"You always run away, Maxwell."
"That was a statement, not a question."
"It was supposed to be a question. I meant to ask why. But it is an accurate statement."
Duo, already quite tense, ground his teeth, taking a step back to put a bit more distance between them. Shit, yeah it was accurate, Heero didn't have to keep pointing it out though. "I can make statements too. Your fucking password is my name."
Heero looked down. Embarrassed maybe, or else just guilty. "Yes," was all he said.
Asking 'why' seemed like it would only lead to an argument or the end of their conversation so Duo decided to drop it. Hell, he knew why anyways, he didn't really need to ask.
"You know me, Heero," Duo said, taking several more steps backwards to flop onto the bed again. He had decided to address the man's earlier statement and simply get it the hell over with. He grinned, trying to relieve the tension of the situation with his charm that never seemed to quit. "I run and hide-"
"But you never tell a lie. So answer the damn question, Maxwell."
Duo sputtered, taken aback by Heero's abrupt and harsh words. He crossed his legs atop the bed, feeling his braid get pulled under him as his right leg landed on the chestnut rope's end. He licked his lips and stared up at the still standing man. "Heero, buddy, I mean...it was nothing personal..." he paused, unable to come up with the right words. Being sneaky and deceitful: his department. Speaking and divulging emotions: definitely fucking not his department.
"Why are we suddenly playing twenty-questions here?"
"It was one question, Duo."
Dammit. There he went and did it. He had to fucking use his first name and be logical all at the same time. Shit, things were getting real now.
Shrugging, Duo opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again, looking down at his criss-crossed legs. "Honestly, Heero, I can't tell you why I left because I don't even fucking know the reason myself." It was something he hated to admit, but it really was the truth. Maybe he was scared, maybe he felt inadequate or unworthy, maybe it was the uncertainty of fuckin' Shinigami, it could have been anything. Hell, he had yet to be able to decipher his own inner turmoil, let alone explain it to Heero.
And why did this man suddenly feel the need to prove his emotional stability? He was never one to speak openly about this sort of thing, even when casual sex was still involved. Shit, three years had managed to make things just that much more confusing.
Heero, possibly out of remorse or else because he simply didn't know how to answer, altered the conversation's course. "The photographs I received were...interesting."
"Yeah, mine too."
"They were of you, Duo. No one else. Just you."
Duo's eyes grew dark as he looked up. "Shit. That's fucked up."
Heero stared at him. No, dammit, he stared straight through him. Duo felt a chill run down his spine. A moment later Heero was walking out of the room, Duo's eyes trailing after him. When the braided man did not physically follow, Heero popped his head back in and glared. "Coming?"
Furrowing his brows, Duo hopped off the bed. Motherfucking Heero and his lack of people skills. Still, after all this time how could he be so brash and rude? They were having a fucking moment, weren't they? And now what? Duo followed on his heels into another bedroom, this one smaller with only one bed, housing Heero's few belongings.
Duo watched as he pulled an all too familiar manila envelope from his duffle bag, a bag that looked so similar to Duo's own he might have mistaken it. Comes with the territory he supposed, always on the fuckin' move.
"Here." Heero thrust the envelope, heavy with photographs just as Duo's had been, into the man's waiting hands.
With apprehensive fingers Duo peeled open the envelope and poured out a stack of pictures into his hand. His breathing quickened and his heart rate jumped as his eyes roamed through the plethora of images.
Many were from during the war. There was the one he had received, his body leaning on Heero. Others at a boarding school, in the library, on the basketball court. Another where their lips were close, but not touching, maybe coming in to each other or just after breaking an embrace; it was in an alleyway that Duo couldn't place. There was another of him, after the war sometime, with the Preventer version of Wufei in the background and it made his stomach clench.
And then there was one more, just of Duo, now in his present life, his scarred and shaved head, his five o'clock shadow, his squared out jaw line.
The feelings of nausea that Duo had experienced the night he had first received his personalized package of photographs began to resurface. "What the fuck?"
"It makes sense." Heero's words were soft and deep.
Duo looked up, squinting in confusion. "It does?"
"They were trying to get each of our attentions. They were personal about it. Wufei got the autopsy. Quatre and Trowa: their secret visitations. You got your...friends." He paused to purse his lips nervously; he knew 'friends' was the bare minimum of accuracy. Taking a deep breath he continued with the hardest realization he'd had to say so far. "Duo, I got...you-"
His stammering words were cut off as an explosion ripped through the air outside of their hotel.
Immediately both men ran into the living room towards the window they knew looked out over the hotel's parking lot. They arrived just in time to see a hot blast of fire flying from within the engine of their current vehicle. It was damn fucking lucky that no other cars were parked near the now burning frame, Heero having opted to pull into a spot far from anyone else out of pure habit.
They watched with wide eyes as the entire car became engulfed in flames from the explosion, wondering vaguely if it had been serendipitous, but knowing deep in their guts that it was far fucking from it.
But the most terrifying thing, even aside from the flames licking at every inch of the car's frame, were the dozens of large photographs scattered atop the burning car and trailing to the dark pavement surrounding it.
Duo couldn't stop his hands from trembling as his eyes found a particular picture, it's edges smoldering as embers attacked the photograph. It was an image of himself, his chest barren and glistening with sweat, another man's arms wrapped across his abs from behind. He didn't have to see the half hidden face to know who they belonged to and it wasn't Heero Yuy.
The braided man barely made it to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him, before he was violently sick. Fucking deja vu.
One abhorrent thought ran through his mind, the words playing on repeat like a damn broken record player in Heero's low, velvet voice.
Duo, I got...you.