Kracken
Disclaimer:I don't own them and I don't make any money off of this.
Warnings:Male/male sex, mental instability, dark, language, graphic, violence.
Imaginings
Huddled in his dirty coat, face blank and eyes staring at nothing, Duo was sitting on an old crate near a steaming vent in an alley, a choice piece of real estate since the temperature had dipped and it was freezing. Watching from a discrete distance, Heero was surprised that he didn't have company.
It hadn't been difficult to find Duo, since he hadn't gone far from the restaurant. Heero couldn't help feeling a sense of disappointment at that. His soldier side had wanted a chase, a hunt, a long drawn out chance to employ skills that had been packed away in his psyche with most of his experiences during the war. Not that Heero was fooled by Duo's deceptive detachment. Heero knew all too well that their training sometimes did not need a mind behind it to operate. Duo could potentially be very dangerous.
Talking, laughing, and movement made Heero back up into the shadows instinctively as five young men sauntered down the alley on their way to somewhere else. They glanced aside at Duo, and almost passed him by, but then, one stopped and snickered.
"I'm bored." That young man said.
Heero could tell that he was the leader by the way the others stopped as well and looked to him for direction. A bandana almost obscured his eyes and tattoos were clearly visible on his knuckles as he raised a hand and wiped at his nose. Drug addict, Heero thought, watching the young man walk up to Duo with a twitching, almost hyper edge to him.
Duo didn't show any of the skittishness of before. He sat perfectly still. That, in itself, warned Heero. He was too still. Why he didn't run away like he had before, Heero wasn't certain. Perhaps the heat from the vent was that important to him? Whatever the reason, it was clear that Duo wasn't going to abandon his place.
The gang leader sensed Duo's stubbornness as well and didn't like it. Heero could tell that he wanted Duo afraid of him and he looked insulted and angry by the fact that Duo didn't seem to be.
"You're on my turf, crazy shit. I should have the guys break you in half just for that," the gang leader taunted Duo as he walked around him and sized him up. "They'd have a lot of fun doing it too, right guys?" he tossed at his comrades. They laughingly agreed.
The leader circled Duo again, looking him over minutely: a wolf ready to tear up vulnerable prey, but making sure he wasn't going to get hurt in the process. "Got anything on you?" he asked Duo, faking magnanimity. "If you hand it over, maybe we'll keep on walking and leave you alone..."
Heero was convinced that Duo was getting ready to attack the leader. He could see all the telltale signs, even in the dim lights coming from the mouth of the alley. Heero himself was trying to determine what weapons the young men might have and he was putting them in order from most dangerous to the least, readying his own attack.
It was like watching a tight string break. Heero felt amazement, confusion, and then trepidation as Duo suddenly... lost interest? Didn't care any more? Became distracted by inner thoughts? Duo went lax, hands sliding between his legs limply and eyes focusing on something that wasn't there. His braid slid down his shoulder and the end landed on the filthy pavement as he bowed his head.
The leader stared and then he grew furious, expression going cruel. He motioned to his friends. "I don't think our new friend here is taking me seriously, guys. I want you to teach him not to fucking ignore me."
Heero stepped out of the shadows, then, and quietly walked towards the young men. They were street wise. They weren't taken off guard. They all turned, nervous, and sized Heero up immediately. When they saw that he was alone, they grew cocky again and the leader stepped forward confidently to confront him.
"What is it, man?" he asked Heero. "You want some of this too?"
A blonde put a hand under his coat. Gun, Heero thought. Another, darker, young man, reached behind him under his coat. By the way he grasped with his hand, Heero surmised that he had closed it on a knife hilt. The others were clenching fists, less ready to do more than beat their victims. The leader wasn't preparing himself at all. Heero knew his type. He gave the orders and never got his hands dirty himself.
"I have a problem," Heero told the leader in a vicious tone. "I have trouble not killing people. That's why the Preventer organization had to dismiss me. I thought that I should warn you of that before you try to attack me."
There was a definite look of unease on the leader's face. Heero appeared unarmed, but his body language told the leader that he wasn't. Mention of the Preventers doubled that unease.
"Sure they didn't kick you out for not having brains?" One of the other young men taunted. "You're all by yourself!"
Duo made a sound. Everyone looked down at him as he reached out to something invisible, something from his memory, something alive and small. His hands made petting motions and he looked like he was gently playing with the figment of his imagination.
"Shut up!" The leader snarled and kicked out at Duo's head. The kick never landed. He found himself on his back with Heero's foot in his gut and his arm twisted at an angle so sharp it was close to breaking.
"I warned you," Heero said simply, broke the arm with a snap, and then spun to deal with the others as their leader shrieked in pain.
It didn't take long. Heero reveled in his own power as he moved with fluid grace, leaping, kicking, and chopping with his deadly hands. It had been too long since he had been able to lash out, to exorcise the tension that had built up over years of walking plush, high tech, bloodless, corporate halls. It would have been easy to lose control, to forget that he wasn't in a war any longer and that he didn't still have a license to kill whom he pleased. He reined his blows in with difficulty and the young men eventually decided to save themselves. They ran away, one of the braver ones taking the time to hook a hand under the arm of his leader and hurry away with him into the darkness.
Heero stared after them, making sure no one decided to shoot or throw a knife while they retreated. When there was only the echo of street noises, he turned to Duo and found the spot where he had been sitting empty. The man was gone.
Heero didn't allow his frustration to take hold. He pushed down his emotions and left the ally. He wasn't surprised when he didn't spot Duo. There were hundreds of shadows and bolt holes where he could have easily hid himself. Heero carefully examined his options and discarded any places that were too remote a possibility. That still left a wide search area.
Heero checked his watch, lighting up the dial. He had an important meeting in the morning. He had work that needed completing. He had an ex Gundam pilot to catch before he caused someone harm. He gave himself a timetable for each section that had to be searched, telling himself that going past that timetable was equal to defeat. Defeat was not something Heero was ever prepared to allow.
When death was always close, a soldier learned to always be aware of his surroundings. Heero's senses were still as keen as they had been during the war. As he walked, he could hear the pedestrians, the endless traffic, and the general street noises. They were varied and not constant. It was the constant, repetition of one sound, that alerted him that someone was close, someone who might be a danger.
Heero didn't look back, didn't confront. He kept walking, lit a cigarette, and puffed on it as he looked for a place that would give him an advantage. Pedestrians were a hindrance and so were close quarters. Heero needed room to maneuver and non combatants, that might interfere, needed to be out of the way. He chose a side street that opened into a culdesac. The shops there were already dark and locked up for the night.
Heero stopped walking and took a long drag on his cigarette as he listened to the footsteps hesitantly drawing nearer. When they were not a yard away, Heero finally turned, flicking his cigarette aside and letting out a long stream of smoke. He started when he saw that his 'tail' was Duo.
Duo was staring at him as if he were confused. He was frowning and his cinnamon brows were drawn down tight over his serious, purple eyes. He looked as if he were trying very hard to remember something.
Heero tried to stand in a nonthreatening pose, but it went against his nature. Every instinct told him to 'be ready'.
"You look cold," Heero said at last, goading for some response, "and hungry." Something, perhaps his inner knowledge of the workings of a soldier's mind, supplied him with the right words as he added, "I'll take you to the safe house."
As if a switch had been thrown, Duo took on a business like demeanor and nodded, face going grim. All confusion was gone, crystallized into the memory of being a terrorist on the run, a man who almost everyone would have liked to kill. A safe house was welcome relief, a bolt hole from the war and a place where a soldier could rest.
"This way," Heero told him and simply turned and walked out of the side street. He kept to the shadows, and Duo followed suit, one step behind him, hands sunk into his coat pockets, and hunched into his collar to conceal his face.
Heero had a flashback, an image of them having walked, just that way, years before. Duo had been just as grim, just as quiet, and Heero remembered asking him, "No jokes this time?" Duo had looked at him with hollow eyes and had replied in a dead voice, "I've killed too many people. There isn't a joke in the world that can make that funny."
Heero had only partially understood then. Glancing back at Duo, at the way his eyes stayed on the pavement and at the expression of detachment that spoke of trust, trust in Heero to lead him safely, and Heero thought that he understood a great deal more now what Duo's comment had been about. Duo's stress and guilt had, perhaps, finally, been more than he could withstand. Shinigami had a conscience, a conscience that might not have let him return quietly to civilian life after the killing was done.
"The doorman is one of our operatives," Heero told Duo as they neared the front doors of his apartment building. Duo only nodded and looked away as Heero greeted the uniformed man at the entrance and then followed as Heero entered and took the elevator up to his floor.
"Exit to the left, hatch to the roof and a ladder to a fire escape leading down," Heero found himself saying automatically as they left the elevator and headed for his apartment door. "Exit right, stairway to third floor, hallway left, fire exit and a possible escape route to a nearby building."
Duo nodded in response, memorizing the details. "Enemy positions?" Duo finally asked as Heero unlocked the door.
"None," Heero told him. "This is a free area,"
That seemed to make Duo falter when Heero had intended it to reassure him, to help him relax while he called someone to come to the apartment and take him into custody. Heero closed the door and locked it as Duo stopped in the center of the plain living room. It was clear that whatever memory had been keeping him balanced, had suddenly dissipated. Duo crouched, face going blank, and his braid snaked down his shoulder and pooled at his feet on the floor.
Heero took out his cell phone and moved to the small kitchen. Watching Duo intently, he began to dial Services... and then paused. The lost, forlorn figure, crouched on his living room floor, suddenly begged a different response. Heero fiddled with his phone, amazed at himself, wondering why he was contemplating a course of action that was so out of character for him; a course of action that was impulsive and completely ridiculous.
Duo sat suddenly and ran a hand through his bangs, pushing them out of his eyes. There was some sense there, Heero thought. Duo was taking care of himself, if minimally. Maybe, he simply needed time to relax and reorient himself; a chance to quiet whatever demon had decided to take hold of him.
Falling back into memory, remembering how, as soldiers, they had protected each other, had made sure that they were informed and taken care of, Heero couldn't help thinking that this was a like situation. Duo was down and wounded, if only mentally. Suddenly, handing him over to Services, or anyone else, felt like a betrayal. Heero had called his apartment a safe house and Duo had accepted that. Perhaps, for at least one night, he could allow that to be true.
Heero pocketed his cell phone, tossed off his coat and satchel briefcase, and went to make tea.
When Heero returned to the living room with two steaming tea cups, he wasn't sure how to present it to his 'guest'. Remembering the restaurant employee, and how he had dealt with it, Heero placed the cup on a low coffee table and then stepped back.
Duo was pulling at a drawstring on his coat, his eyes fixed on nothing as he ran it through his hands over and over again. It made a small, zip! noise, every time he did it. After Heero stepped back again, though, the smell of the tea seemed to reach him. Duo rose to a crouch again and made a crab like motion to the table. He eyed the tea, sniffed, and then reached out with hands that were trembling with cold. Settling in a sitting position again, Duo took up the tea in both hands and sipped at it.
He was filthy. Heero sipped at his own tea, without sitting down, and examined Duo as closely as he could. There was a stench, of course, and dirt smeared Duo's pale skin. His hair... Heero couldn't help making a disgusted face. It was knotted and matted in it's braid and the color was so dark that he could only assume that it had been allowed to drag through things that he didn't want to think about.
Duo finished his tea. His hands went lax in his lap and the tea cup was allowed to roll away from his suddenly loose fingers. It came to rest on the carpet and Heero moved forward and bent to pick it up. Duo flinched at that motion. Heero supposed that he had crossed some invisible line or that Duo had simply become enough aware of him that Heero had tripped an automatic, nervous response.
Duo backed away quickly. He seemed to want to find a place to flee to, and his body twitched as his eyes searched the apartment quickly for a bolt hole. Since Heero was blocking the front door, there was only one other place to go, the bedroom. It was dark and that appealed to Duo. He moved quickly, muscles flexing and carrying him from a relaxed sitting position to full flight with the speed and agility that could just as easily have launched Duo into a deadly attack on Heero. That was sobering. Heero swore at himself for being so careless. Whatever was wrong with Duo, it hadn't impaired him physically.
Heero waited, giving Duo a few moments to calm down while he took the empty tea cups back to the kitchen. He washed them meticulously, dried them spotless, and then placed them back in their cupboard before going to the bedroom. He paused cautiously at the threshold, the warm glow of a table lamp not bright enough to illuminate the corners, the darker shadows cast by the bed, or the space under the table and chair that could easily hide someone as slim as Duo.
Heero moved to the bathroom and turned on the light there. The gleaming, white tiled room was bare of ex Gundam pilot. Turning his attention back to the bedroom itself, Heero's sharp ears told him what his eyes couldn't; that Duo was under the desk.
"You need to clean yourself. I'll run the water," Heero said. His voice sounded odd, as if it were breaking a virgin silence in that apartment. No one had ever visited him there and he wasn't in the habit of talking to himself.
It did feel very much like talking to himself when he didn't get a response, and it made Heero feel uncomfortable. He went through the motions anyway, turning on the shower and testing the temperature until it was to his satisfaction. Opening a new bar of soap, and placing several, white wash towels on the sink, he suspected that he was making a useless gesture and that Duo was probably not going to take advantage of the offer. His suspicions were confirmed when he returned to the bedroom and heard, very faintly, the sound of Duo sleeping.
Having a filthy, mentally confused, war comrade asleep under his desk was something that Heero wasn't prepared to deal with. The shower still running, he found himself sitting on the edge of his neatly made bed and staring at the patch of darkness under the table. A soft, heavy, slow and rhythmic breathing came easily to his ears. The very tip of a braid was just visible, poking slightly out of the shadow.
Duo could be calm and reasonable. He functioned at a low level, taking care of his needs. He was frightened and wary when his mind allowed it, but it was obvious that confusion limited responses, distracting him in some way. It was almost as if he were stuck partially in a dream, one that he slipped into completely on occasion.
Heero looked around his neat and orderly room. He had bare minimum furniture, just enough for his needs. There were no pictures on the walls or on the desk. He had a bland, gray bedspread and the carpet was a mixture of blues, something one might find in a hotel room; unimaginative and functional. The rest of the apartment wasn't any different. Heero had never cared for personal possessions. He was a man who liked challenges and action. He didn't spend his days watching vid shows or his evenings entertaining friends. In fact, he rarely did more than sleep there and was away on business trips more often than not. It wasn't a home. It wasn't a permanent place in his thoughts. To Heero, it was a place like any other. A place to work and sleep and nothing more. To have a man sleeping under his desk, a filthy, confused man, was dumbfounding.
Work. Obligations. Meetings. They didn't take into consideration any disruption in Heero's life. They were important. He couldn't ignore or avoid them. Heero's mind latched onto that as if it were a lifeline back to safe ground. The problem of Duo would have to wait. He had to secure things so that it could wait.
A mission. It was comforting for Heero to think of it that way. Mission one, secure Duo so that he couldn't get away, be a danger, or have free roam of the apartment. Mission two, complete work and finish work obligations.
There was a voice in the back of his head that Heero tried to ignore as he went to turn off the shower, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Dr. J. It called him names, names that hit like sharp stones against his inner psyche. It questioned him, asked him for answers that Heero wasn't prepared to give, and, in the end, it derisively called him a fool, chastising him for allowing himself to become embroiled with Duo at all.
Heero had a handful of solutions at his fingertips, solutions that could quickly get rid of Duo and the disruption that Duo was causing him. He didn't have a degree in psychology. He wasn't a doctor. He wasn't sure what he could offer Duo in the way of real help aside from simply allowing him to rest in a safe place. Missions needed end results, successful ones. Heero couldn't see any good result from the one he was attempting at the moment. Duo would rest. He would eat. He might clean himself. What happened after that, Heero wasn't sure. Forcing Duo to stay was against the law. If the man wanted to leave, and Heero refused to allow it, there might be repercussions later if his actions were questioned. If those repercussions were to become public, then his reputation might be endangered. Heero had a very clear image of his business collapsing not long after that.
Heero felt suddenly chilled down to the marrow of his bones, gripped by trepidation. His business was all that he had. It was what he had thrown himself into building, body and soul, since the war. It had given him a purpose to his life that he knew that he absolutely required.
Heero stared at the patch of darkness that hid Duo. Tomorrow, he told himself. If Duo wasn't anymore aware in the morning, then letting him go again, or calling Services, was definitely required of him if he was going to avoid potential trouble. It still reeked like betrayal, but, Heero reminded himself sternly, this wasn't the war any longer. He couldn't allow memories and a misplaced sense of duty to destroy the life that he had built for himself.
"C'n you t'k first watch, Heero?" A voice slurred from the darkness, a voice of a completely exhausted young man who was still trapped in a war. "Tired. Too tired to stay awake..."
"Sleep," Heero replied firmly. "I'll take first watch."
"C'n always trust you," Duo muttered lightly and then he was asleep again.
Heero moved to turn the heat higher, making the room very warm and comfortable, something that he couldn't remember ever caring enough to do before for himself. He paused like that, his hand poised on the control, and then he let that hand drop as guilt crested, guilt and an old pain that he had thought long buried with even more painful memories. He suddenly knew why he had gone to so much trouble tracking Duo, why calling the Preventers or even Services had been intolerable, why he had ignored common sense and taken a mentally disturbed ex war comrade home to endanger his business and disrupt his life. He also knew that, even if Duo wasn't any more responsive in the morning, that he would, once again, fail to make any calls. He simply couldn't.
"Mission one; secure Duo," Heero said under his breath, almost able to hate himself for what he perceived as an all encompassing weakness in himself, a weakness that was now stronger than the iron will of a soldier that Dr. J had created on the forge of a war.
Read more of Kracken's fiction and fanfiction at http://kracken.bonpublishing.com
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Kracken has a yaoi book published, The Angel Within, at amazon.com. http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0974416002/qid%3D1066434868/sr%3D11-1/ref%3Dsr%5F11%5F1/102-2967152-0308168
and at her publishing website at http://www.bonpublishing.com. Thank you to
everyone who already bought the book. *hugs*
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