"Shit!" Duo mumbled and rolled to sit up. His head throbbed and his body ached, and for a long moment, he couldn't understand why he was naked and his hands were stiff with... something.
Memory flooded back, suddenly, as he rubbed at his head and felt flakes of... blood... coming off of his hands. He had killed Peter... or he might have. His hands felt tentatively around him, afraid of finding the man, alive, and hovering over him, ready to punish him. Instead, he found a body, already stiffening, and very cold.
Duo let out a shuddering sigh of relief. He wasn't under any illusion that he wasn't still in trouble, but the satisfaction of killing that man, more than comforted him. Honest danger was far better than humiliating torture.
Duo felt over the body. He found a wallet, several small cards, and a tube of something in the man's pockets. The stun gun was clutched still in one of Peter's hands and some of Duo's hair was in his other one, tangled in the stiffening fingers. He hadn't died without a fight, though Duo had been too far in 'battle mode' to notice.
Touching Peter's face with some disgust, Duo found the ravaged flesh. It had been far worse than he had imagined. He could almost sympathize with the man's hatred of him, if he hadn't hated the man so very much in turn.
Duo touched his own face, feeling the tender fire of outraged flesh there. Some of the grafts seemed ragged at the edges. A gut wrenching fear made Duo uncapped the tube that he had found in Peter's pocket. He sniffed it and smelled something caustic. An acid? He felt the strong need to wash his face, to get whatever had been put there off of him. Something was eating away at his skin and fear made him imagine himself ending up like Peter, face a melted mess of flesh over bone.
"Get your shit together, Maxwell," Duo ordered himself. "Forget about not being pretty anymore and worry about not getting dead."
They wouldn't find him naked, Duo decided. He pulled the shirt from Peter, with difficulty, and then dressed himself in it, ignoring the stiff feel of blood on the shoulders and collar. It hung like a dress, to his knees, which was a good thing. The smell told Duo that the pants were unusable. The shoes were far too large, but the socks would do. He knotted Peter's wallet, cards, and the tube, into the hem of the shirt to keep his hands free.
Peter was able to enter the room without any special keys or electronics, Duo surmised. That meant that, if he did have traps set, they were all manual. That was a good thing. He was used to people underestimating him because of his blindness. Peter wouldn't have bothered hiding his traps from a blind man, he was sure. Duo was an expert. During the war, he had been forced, many times, to find traps in the dark, or in thick undergrowth, by feel and instinct alone. This wouldn't be any different.
Duo didn't even consider staying in that room and waiting for rescue. He had hoped that strange purchases by Peter, on his credit balance, might have alerted Preventers, but, apparently, Peter had been careful about buying his stun gun, and any other supplies, that might have raised red flags. It had been a slim hope at best, but it had kept Duo from doing anything rash, until now.
It might have been for the best, Duo thought as he felt along the door frame for contacts, or anything else that might trigger a trap. Peter might not have been so easy to overcome earlier, when he had been less confident that he had control over Duo.
Duo found the trap. There was a small, metal pin, sticking out of the door, right of the doorknob. A trigger mechanism or the key to disarming the trap? Duo had to go through his extensive knowledge of traps, and imagine what this particular one might look like, to understand how the small pin might come into play. If it had been built against a blind man, how likely was it to be triggered by fumbling hands, or a turn of the knob?
Unwary Duo would have walked up and turned the knob. Expecting to trigger a trap, by fumbling hands, left too much to random chance. That established, now he simply had to figure out whether he needed to pull the pin or push it in, and whether a similar pin was on the other side of the door. If there was, then his mental image of the mechanism needed to change. A push me pull you mechanism required something to be tripped, and untripped, by the push of the pin. Making two pins and two separate trip switches seemed unlikely, unless there wasn't a trip switch on the other side of the door. Either way, whether to push or pull, seemed a random factor, unless he decided to use psychological odds. Psychology, Duo thought, using himself as a model, would have him pushing a pin rather than pulling. Pushing in, on either side, made sense. Logic might also say, that the pin was out now, so Peter must have pushed it on the opposite side while entering... unless he reset the trap when he had entered.
"Fuck it," Duo growled and pushed the pin, turned the knob, and opened the door.
Every muscle tensed, waiting. When nothing happened, Duo had to bow his head and just breathe for a moment until his heart slowed down. He didn't let his guard down, though, and when he finally crawled along the filthy floor, on all fours, he was still moving cautiously, still reaching out to carefully feel his way.
He was in a narrow hallway. Duo smelled something old and rotting, and his fingers encountered broken bits of walls, flaking paint, and wall sockets that were broken and exposed. His hand encountered empty hinges and a door propped against a wall. The doorway itself led into another room.
Was it Peter's room, or a bathroom? The temptation to find better clothing was strong, but Duo fought it. Modesty wasn't going to get him killed, he decided, and started down the hallway again.
Duo's hand slid out into empty space. He froze and then carefully felt with outstretched fingers. He met wall on each side, but he couldn't reach across whatever open space was in front of him.
Searching, Duo found a few pieces of broken drywall. He let them fall into the empty space and heard them clatter as they hit what sounded like metal and something solid. The floor had fallen through, but how far? If it was simply to the floor below, that wasn't far to fall. If it went several floors, the fall would kill him. How far across was the next question. Peter might have had something to move into place to help him across or it might be a simple jump for a sighted man.
Duo gathered more scraps of drywall and tested the distance with them until he heard a clatter. Five feet, maybe. He tested it a bit more to be certain, picturing the gap in his mind.
Duo slowly stood and worked up his nerve. At the last minute, as he tensed muscles for the jump, a thought occurred to him. He bent and picked up more refuse and tossed them a little further than five feet. After a long moment, they clattered down far below. Another hole beyond the first one.
"You bastard!" Duo swore.
He was trembling with reaction as he reconsidered his logic. He couldn't see Peter jumping, and risking a fall on the opposite side. There had to be a bridge, of some sort.
Duo searched the floor and the walls carefully and found nothing that long, ready to hand. That left something retractable and, possibly,in the room that he hadn't explored.
Duo searched with hands at the entrance of the room. Sensitive fingers felt rough, smooth, and then rough floor boards. The smoothness of some boards was Duo's warning.
"Not getting me that way," Duo muttered under his breath and then waited while he coughed hard. The dust wasn't as thick here, where Peter had cleaned up, at least for himself, but Duo's lungs were still struggling against long exposure.
Recovering at last, Duo moved from, what he hoped, was one safe board to another, until they were all rough floorboards. His hands found boxes, then, filled with tools, chains, and bars of metal. A tool felt like a welding torch and the smell confirmed it. Peter, Duo surmised, had been planning crueler torments when his present ones stopped being effective.
A trash can held cloth. Duo pulled it out and discovered his jeans. His shirt was under it, torn and smelling, a little, as if food trash might have been dropped on top of it. It was still better than drying blood.
Duo changed into the clothes, gratefully, and left Peter's clothes in their place. His shoes were no where to be found, though, and he was forced to keep on Peter's socks. Lastly, he shoved Peter's wallet and cards into his jean pocket.
Searching again, Duo found Peter's bed, a stack of his clothes in one corner, a bag of what felt like dry goods,and some magazines strewn on the floor next to the bed. A small doorway led to a simple bathroom with a bucket. The water wasn't running and the toilet was cracked and full of cobwebs. Another, smaller door, was closed, and Duo puzzled over the metal bar curving in front of it.
Another trap or the way past the hallway full of holes? Duo felt lightly along the bar and came in contact with braille and a small indent. He had been drilled enough times to deal with blindness, and emergency situations, to know an emergency door when he felt one. That one was here, told Duo that he wasn't in a real bedroom, or an apartment at all. Office spaces seemed more likely.
Duo pressed the button and a voice gave him instructions on how to open the door, that an alarm would sound, there and in a fire station, somewhere, and to leave the building quickly in case of fire.
Was it that easy? Duo felt along the bar, and then the door, and found the disconnected wiring. Putting it back together would have been easy, but working with his bare hands, on possibly live wires that he couldn't see, was dangerous.
Was it worth the risk? Duo considered it. Instant rescue, or chancing more traps, possible escape, and then trying to find help? He tried to picture the electrical box in his mind and the moves he would have to make to wire it up again, correctly and safely. He felt the pulled wires, hoping that they might still be in the right arrangement for a reconnection. It was then that Duo discovered that one wire, wrapped around another, was still attached to the box.
Another trap? Duo gently followed that wire down to the box. Reaching very carefully inside, he felt the connection to something bulky and tapped together. The door, he guessed, had been rigged to blow, if it was opened the wrong way.
Following the wire back up, Duo found where it disappeared into a hole drilled into the wall next to the door. Contact detonated. Open the door, or push the bar, improperly, and the bomb would blow as soon as the jamb parted.
There had to be a switch or a button, somewhere. Duo gingerly felt into the hole and found it, just inside the curve towards the jamb. It was taking a chance that it wasn't a dummy button, meant to trick him, but Duo couldn't feel any other way to disarm the bomb. That made him consider something else. As he pushed the button and winced, fully expecting an explosion, he had to come to terms that allowing anyone to rush into that trap filled place, to save him, was the same as murder. He was on his own.
Duo winced again as he reached under the door, felt enough room for leverage between the bottom and the floor, and pulled the door open. The emergency lever, he had guessed correctly, hadn't even been connected to the door lock. He wasn't taking the chance that pushing on it would set off yet another trap.
"Don't get cocky," Duo told himself as he felt his way, on hands and knees, down a flight of concrete stairs.
The stairs had been repaired in places. Duo felt carefully over the boards that had replaced concrete steps, as he worked his way downward. His hand sweeping from side to side, found empty space, several times, where a railing, and part of a stair, should have been. When he began to hear street traffic, he allowed himself some relief, but not hope enough to drop his guard. He doubted that Peter's traps were only for his prisoner. Duo expected to find more on the lower levels.
He was forced to rest, struggling to breathe and feeling as if his body was succumbing to a fever. Sitting on the steps, his forehead resting against his knees, Duo found himself chuckling a little, though it ended up as a cough. His situation was so incredible, so unlikely, for the trained Gundam Pilot/ top Preventer agent, that he had been, that he had to believe that he truly wasn't the man that he had used to be. He was vulnerable to madmen picking him off the street and doing what they pleased to him.
"Idiot!" Duo sat up and thumped the middle of his forehead. "You killed him. You're escaping. Even if you get blown to bits, now, you still did damned good, Maxwell. Stop being a whiner and get on with it."
And hadn't that been his problem all along? While he had been trying to become independent, he had been sinking in depression, and believing that he was worthless. He had actually been avoiding Heero because of that belief.
"Idiot!" Duo said to himself again as he started crawling down the steps again. If... When... he made it out of there, he decided to face Heero at last. If the man couldn't accept him, as he was, couldn't get past Duo's new limitations, or, even worse, tried to stay friends out of guilt and sympathy, Duo would punch him, solid, and move on.
Of course, there was still the matter of the video, that Peter had been taking of his humiliation. that was a very different matter all together. People were going to see it, whether Duo survived, or not. They were going to judge him. Heero was going to judge him.
Duo tried to put himself in Heero's place, tried to imagine watching a vid of Heero on a leash, doing the things that Peter had asked of him. He was surprised at the fury, that generated inside of him, the need to kill Peter again, for an imaginary attack on the man that he...
Duo froze, holding his breath, as his hand lightly brushed a nub of metal among a pile of rubble on the steps. His hand searched, after his nerves settled from their shock, and he felt more of the nubs among bits of rebar, concrete chunks, and some paper trash. Reaching past them, to the next step, he found nothing. Moving down carefully, until he was only supported by his hands, his upper body still up on the safe step, Duo felt down to the next step. He felt more debris and, just perceptibly, a hairline crack running the width of the step.
Put weight on the crack, and the step caved, and a man might fall forward, or even stumble to the step with the triggers. Shivering, Duo moved back to the safe step and then felt along the railing. He found a gap, where Peter had probably removed it to keep a man from catching himself from the fall.
"Bastard!" Duo growled. "You will not outsmart me," he promised.
It was slow going, but Duo found the 'safe' path down. It was very narrow, and complicated, telling Duo that Peter hadn't care too much about his own skin. He had been prepared for death, and seemed to have been actively courting it.
The bottom floor would be close to an exit door, Duo knew, reviewing what he knew of fire escapes. If he had been Peter, he would have let his enemies all come inside, feeling safe, right up until he took out as many as possible. Preventers wouldn't take the elevator, even if the thing worked, because it would have left them too vulnerable. Duo surmised that the stairs, and the bottom door, would probably have a large charge, large enough to lull Preventers into thinking that it might be the only danger.
When Duo reached that bottom door, he paused, and rested, thinking of all the traps that he had seen or set himself. Opticals were too chancy with a building full of debris and dust. Trip wires, pressure sensitive pads, and contacts, all needed disarming devices on both sides of the door. They couldn't be obvious, either.
Duo imagined the door in his head. Where would someone hide a disarming device, from sighted men, that could be used on either side of a door?
Duo's hands searched along the floor until he found a thick shard of concrete. If a man stepped on it, a man as tall as Peter, what could he reach? Duo searched it for traps, found none, and then stood on it himself. He was much shorter than Peter, and he had to stretch high, but his hands encountered the hydraulic door closer.
Sensitive fingers found the slide that would keep it open, if deployed. There was a small bump and he imagined a wire running into the hydraulics, ready to trip if it extended. Finding the way to disarm it, took a great deal of time and thought. Sweat ran down Duo's back, and he felt exhausted and weak, as he tried to think it through clearly. Finally, he took a chance and raised the wire very slightly, teeth gritted in anticipation of an explosion. He found the small hook and released it. When Duo stepped off of the chunk of concrete, without an explosion, he had to lean against the door for a few minutes.
"Come on!" Duo told himself. "Do it."
It still took him a long moment to work up his nerve enough to open the door.
==================
When nothing happened, Duo went through the door, on hands and knees, and felt a filthy floor, covered in debris. He listened and heard traffic off to his left. The front doors to the building? Peter wouldn't have wanted bums, looking for a home, or the idle curious, to trip his bombs. Duo fully expected to find a lock, of some sort, so, as he crawled towards the traffic noise, his hands searched for booby traps and something to pick a lock with.
He was glad that he found the reception counter first, or he might have despaired when he reached the door and found the chain and padlock. The counter had been bare of any electronics, but the slim slips of metal, that, along with screws, had held things in place, were still scattered about and incredibly useful. He pushed one down between the hasp and the body of the lock and twisted it to disengage the locking mechanism.
Home free, Duo thought, but couldn't help the cold fear, as he stood up and pushed the front door open, expecting one last trap to blow him to hell.
Duo gritted his teeth and waited. Rain splattered his face and a cold wind whipped at his clothing and tangled hair. He could hear traffic moving over slick roads and puddles, and the patter of rain on concrete.
Duo let relief wash over him along with the rain, standing and blinking against the wind as he tried to wrap his mind around the fact that he had escaped, that his ordeal was over.
Not over, the cynical part of his mind warned, and his training kicked in, throttled emotion, and had him padlocking the door from the outside. Part of him argued that it was to protect evidence, while the other remembered that vid, chronicling his every humiliation.
The rain quickly soaked into his socks. Duo pulled them off and left them behind as he began a slow walk down what he hoped was a sidewalk. His hand touched the side of the building, smarting with cuts from the debris that he had been forced to search, but still sensitive to the feel of brick, and then to other materials, as he put distance between himself and his prison.
A pay vid phone, a passerby that might be sympathetic, some clue as to where he was to give him a reference to get home, or to Preventers, were things that Duo hoped for. It went against his nature to call out for help, and he struggled with that ingrained taboo from his days on the streets as a child. Don't trust anyone. Everyone was a potential enemy. Even as a gundam pilot, he had still followed those lessons learned the hard way.
Hungry, wet, cold, and thirsty, Duo opened his mouth to the rain to drink, and wondered what he looked like. An accident victim, maybe, or a crazy derelict. An easy mark, depending on what neighborhood he was in. If anyone attacked him, though, they were going to discover just how dangerous their 'easy mark' could be, and Duo wanted to avoid that. Duo didn't want to kill even street thugs, when it could be avoided.
The buildings ended and Duo felt the wind of traffic, and the spray of water, as vehicles passed in front of him. It was hard to tell what time it was, but traffic seemed heavy. It wasn't the middle of the night, or early morning.
Duo reached out and felt for a traffic light. He encountered someone near him and felt the violent shove of his hand as it was flung away. Throttling a violent reaction in return had him shaking as a man cursed him and called him, 'Crazy bastard!'
Duo couldn't hear the man leave, but he was sure that instinct had at least made the man back up, or move away. He took that chance and reached out again. He found a smooth metal pole, as cold and as wet as he was, and pushed the button there.
The pole told Duo, in a flat tone, the street, and the cross street, and Duo thankfully recognized them. He pulled up his mental map of the city and was reassured in his decision not to start calling out for help. He was in an area that he had visited many times as an agent. An after war 'integration' program, had tried to place ex POWs, with 'issues' quietly into neighborhoods after their release. A snafu had placed a large number in that particular area. Post war trauma, antisocial, behavior problems, bitterness left over from the war,often made an ugly mix when unsuspecting civilians were involved, or people who had been in the military, on the winning side of the conflict. Arguments to integrate them elsewhere, had been met with no sympathy, the government firm in it's belief that they were innocent, and rehabilitated, until they committed a crime.
What it meant for Duo, was that he might be surrounded by people who, like Peter, either had a score to settle with a certain ex gundam pilot, or a Preventer agent who had often been called into the neighborhood to arrest them. The sudden fear of being recognized, had Duo tucking his long braid into the back of his shirt and pulling his wet bangs down into his face.
He hadn't walked that neighborhood as a blind man. Duo had to rely on his many trips there, as an agent, to find his way. He crossed the street, shivering with wet and cold, and kept close to shops and businesses, for safety, as he formulated a plan to walk out of there as inconspicuously as possible.
"There he is," a man's voice said.
"He looks as bad as he said," another man's voice said in disgust.
"Freakin' war loonies," the first swore and Duo felt a hand on his arm.
"Just come with us quietly, sir, and we'll get you some help," the second voice told Duo. "You'll get some hot food and some coffee in the deal, if you cooperate, or a stun gun in the ass, if you don't, understand?"
"I can't see," Duo said, but his voice was almost gone, his throat swollen and his lungs full of dust.
"Blind?" The first grunted. "So this one's just sick crazy and not staggering drunk, at least. I'm getting tired of the boozers throwing up in the patrol car."
"We're police officers," the second told Duo slowly and loudly, as if Duo might be deaf as well. "I'm Krikowski, and my partner's Michaels. We're taking you to some nice people, who'll remind you that we have standards and that you can't wander around half dressed, looking like road kill, and bothering people."
"I'm Duo Maxwell, Preventer agent," Duo managed. "I need help. I was kidnapped."
"Sure, sure," Michael's replied irritably, "and I'm Quatre Winner, richest man in the universe. I'm just slumming as a police officer. Jeez, that's a new one."
"Naw, remember the guy who thought he was Zechs Marquise?" Krikowski reminded him.
Michaels chuckled, "Yeah, five foot, and short dark hair. You'd think a mirror would have cleared up that delusion for him."
"Watch your head," Krikowski warned and Duo felt a gloved hand push his head down as he was put into the back of a patrol car. It was still warm from a heater, and Duo started shivering uncontrollably in reaction as the door slammed shut and the men climbed into the front seat.
Duo passed out, somewhere between the men arguing about end of the day paperwork, and the bad plot of a movie Krikowski had seen.
_____________________________
"Take your medicine," the nurse said as she tilted the paper cup against Duo's lips.
Duo swallowed, dutifully, and then, again, tried to talk.
The nurse sounded irritated as she warned, yet again, "You've been told about that. Let your throat rest. I'm sure they'll find out who's responsible for you, soon."
Duo scowled in frustration, but he could barely raise his head from the pillow of his hospital bed, let alone argue, yet again, about who he was.
The nurse checked his face grafts, and it didn't have the worried sound to her voice, that she usually did, when performing that task, as she observed, "I think these are making progress. If you leave them alone, and not try to ruin them, again, they should heal cleanly."
They thought that he had purposefully tried to ruin his grafts with acid. Self destructive. Delusional. The doctor had talked about Duo's need to become a hero, a Gundam pilot, rather than face his blindness and his disfigurement. It was Duo's bad luck that he had managed to find the only people who had not heard that Duo Maxwell, Gundam pilot, had met with a career ending accident. Not that he had kept himself in the news, afterward, but he had felt the sting of a bruised ego, along with his anger and frustration, that these people didn't seem to know who he was.
Even a computer would have been helpful. An email to Heero would have solved everything. These people seemed hell bent on denying him every request, though, so firm in their belief that anything he might say or do, would only be a part of his delusion, or destructive behavior.
"Ah, how are we this morning?" The voice startled Duo. He hated when people 'appeared out of nowhere', especially when that someone was Dr. Treudau.
Duo glared at where the voice had emanated and then followed the footsteps with that glare as the doctor approached his bed.
"We've put out your description, to all the mental facilities," the doctor told him, "but we haven't been able to find anyone who can ID you. Computer recognition is impossible, because of your damaged grafts. We simply don't know where to go from here, if you refuse to cooperate."
Duo had a small pad of paper and a very blunt pencil, barely an inch long. he supposed that they were afraid that he might use the pencil as a weapon, or to harm himself, but it made it hard to write, as he scrawled, 'Told you who to call.'
The doctor sighed. "Sir, if you could just give us a correct name, I'm sure there are people who would like to know that you are all right and under proper care."
Heero Yuy, Preventers, Duo wrote. Sally Po, Preventers medical.
"If your persist in this delusion, sir," the doctor said in exasperation. "We won't have any choice but to transfer you to the state mental Institution."
"Gertrude, clean that, later," the nurse said as the sound of squeaky wheels and more footsteps came to Duo. "Later, Gertrude," she said again, slower. "The doctor is trying to work."
A pan clattered and a woman exclaimed, "Duo Maxwell!" in a heavy German accent.
There was silence. Duo grinned. He wrote on his pad, 'Not crazy, see?'
Rough hands pressed Duo's where he held the pencil. The cleaning woman went on in German excitedly. Duo understood enough to know that she was thanking him for one of his past deeds during the war.
"Gertrude!" the nurse warned.
Duo felt a dry kiss on his cheek and then the woman was moving away, saying again, in awe, "Duo Maxwell!"
"It seems that we made a mistake," the doctor said carefully.
Duo wrote, 'No shit!'
_________________________
He should have known that the doctors would try and distance themselves from their mistake. Duo was told that the hospital he was in, wasn't the right facility for his care, and plans were made to ship him out as soon as a vehicle could be secured to take him away to another facility. That facility wasn't Preventer medical. When Duo was told that no one would be contacted until he reached his new facility, he decided that he had waited, patiently, long enough.
The cleaning woman was his ally. It was easy to get her to bring him a wheel chair, and just as easy to get her to take him to an empty office that had a phone. Harder was the phone call to the Preventers secure line, and convincing her to stay on the line until they could find an interpreter. She was nervous, still clearly adoring Duo, and eager to pay him back for past deeds, but also leery of losing her job by calling such an obviously secure line.
Duo encouraged her with notes as they waited out the long minutes until the interpreter came on the line and asked her how she had gotten hold of the number. It took more long minutes to convince the man to turn on his vid so that Duo could show his face. When the man still seemed doubtful, Duo waggled his long braid at the man.
"Agent Maxwell!" the man exclaimed then. "Where are you? What happened to your face? Everyone has been looking everywhere for you!"
Duo wrote on the pad and tilted it to the vid. 'Kidnapped,' he wrote, 'Can't talk. Infection. Need extraction, now.' He wrote the address of the hospital and added, 'Immediate action.'
"Yes, sir!" the man was fumbling quickly for another phone, "I will have men in route, to your location, at once. Please, secure your person until they arrive."
Duo began to write that he wasn't in any real danger, but he heard the connection terminate. Duo mouthed, 'Uh-oh."
"Mr. Maxwell, there you are!" a familiar female voice exclaimed.
Duo's doctor had also come into the office. He said, testily, "You shouldn't be wandering the corridors, Mr. Maxwell. You could worsen your condition. Besides, your transport is waiting. Nurse Thompkins will take you to the ramp. I promise you, that they will contact all the proper authorities, once you arrive at the new facility."
Nurse Thompkins said icily to Gertrude, "This is a serious breech of protocol, Gertrude."
Gertrude didn't know enough English to understand the nurse, but she was intelligent enough to realize her danger. Duo could almost feel her fear.
Duo wrote on his pad, and tapped on it angrily to get the nurses' attention. 'I am a Preventer agent. She followed my orders, as she should. You will not discipline her, in any way.'
The nurse had trouble reading his angry scrawl, but when she had, she said, sounding as if she were humoring Duo, "Calm down, Mr. Maxwell. Getting excited isn't good for your recovery. I'll inform the hospital of your wishes."
Duo seethed, promising some retribution of his own, when he was back where he belonged. Just then, he had to deal with the possibility that the hospital would move him before help arrived. He clutched at his chest, dramatically, and then scribbled, 'Chest pain.'
"Your chest hurts?" the doctor asked in alarm.
Duo felt his hospital shirt jerked aside and a portable monitor patch was slapped onto his chest. He had been taught, long ago, how to control his body to a high degree, but elevating his heart rate, on such short notice, was almost impossible. He had to hope, instead, that the doctor's own sense of caution, would lead him to double check his results.
"Do you have discomfort in one or both arms? Back? Neck? Jaw or stomach?" the doctor asked as he surprised Duo by touching his face and tilting his head up, Duo supposed, to check his pupils. Duo shook his head, no, to each question, not wanting to take the charade far enough to get injected with medications.
"Do you feel nausea? Light headedness? Trouble breathing?" the doctor asked and Duo nodded, yes, to each question.
"Anxiety attack?" the nurse surmised.
"I do have the eight years of college, and ten years experience, nurse Thompkins," the doctor retorted. He continued to work over Duo and then said in a mutter, "His heart rate should be more elevated, if that were the case. Do you feel disoriented, Mr. Maxwell??"
Duo shook his head, no.
"I think he's stable enough for transport," the doctor said. "I don't see any readings that would warrant an intervention."
Duo scowled and wrote on his pad. 'I will have you up on charges.'
"Mr. Maxwell, I am following strict procedure," the doctor assured him. "There isn't any reason to get upset or to make threats."
'Bullshit!' Duo wrote.
The nurse sounded nervous as she said, "He looks violent, doctor. Should I call a male nurse to take him to the transport?"
"I'll take him," the doctor assured her. "Mr. Maxwell is a Preventer agent. I trust that he won't attack a civilian. Am I correct, Agent Maxwell?" the doctor stressed Duo's title.
Duo scowled, gripping his pad hard, and said nothing as the doctor waited a full minute, and then decided that Duo's silence was a yes.
"Good," the doctor said with some relief. "I assure you, that we're only interested in your care, Agent Maxwell. If you cooperate, you'll be in contact with who ever you would like, soon."
Duo felt the wheelchair start to move and the doctor's presence close behind him. The usual sounds of a busy hospital swirled around them, the close silence of an elevator, and the small talk the doctor exchanged with people, there. As the doors of the elevator began to open, Duo reached down and tripped the brake.
The wheelchair jerked to a stop and it bought Duo precious time as the doctor tried to discover why the wheelchair wouldn't move. A helpful nurse, finally, reached and unlocked the wheels.By that time, though, the elevator doors had closed again, and they were forced to travel back up to top floors, before going down again.
"Agent Maxwell," the doctor said, then, in barely concealed anger, "this sort of behavior is uncalled for."
Duo didn't agree, but he was out of tricks, as he felt doors open and a cool breeze hit his face.
The doctor was following procedures, at least where his medical ethics were concerned. He did want the embarrassment of having kept a Preventer agent under a mistaken diagnosis, to fall on another facility, but he wasn't going to jeopardize Duo's health to accomplish that. He explained, in detail, to the transport driver, and the attending nurse, all of Duo's reported symptoms and recommendations for his care during transport while Duo sat and wished for an ounce of strength to walk away from that wheelchair.
"Keep your hands where I can see them and don't move!" Heero's voice suddenly barked.
Duo grinned with relief as Heero demanded, "Duo? Dammit, Duo! What the hell happened! Where have you been? Who did that to your face?" The last was said with a snarl that promised revenge on who ever had hurt Duo.
"What is the meaning of this?" the doctor demanded. "I'll have you up on charges, agent. We've done nothing wrong, here, and your people are threatening us with weapons."
"I suggest that you shut up," Wu Fei's voice warned icily, "Until our fellow agent makes his report."
Duo scribbled on his pad, 'Stand down. They're not armed, or dangerous, just in violation of my rights.'
They read his pad, but Heero demanded, "They kept you here, all this time? Why aren't you speaking? What's wrong with your voice?"
'Infection,' Duo wrote. 'Long story.'
"I would like to hear it," Wu Fei said, 'but for now, what should we do with these people, arrest them?'
'Charge them with attempted cover up of malpractice,' Duo wrote with a shrug, 'I don't care, right now. Just want out of here.'
Duo felt a hand touch his arm. It was trembling badly and gripping him hard enough to hurt. "We'll take you to Preventer medical," Heero said close to Duo's ear. "Everything is going to be all right, now." His voice broke and he was suddenly taking hold of Duo completely. "God! I thought I'd never see you again. I thought- I thought horrible things..."
Duo didn't have the heart to tell him that horrible things had happened to him. He reached out and gathered Heero to him, instead, with arms that weren't any less steady than Heero's. He inhaled Heero's scent, felt the solid warmth of his body, and felt truly free at last.
'Stay with me. I need you,' Duo tried to say with his grip alone, and the tears on his face, and hoped that Heero would understand.
"You go with Duo," Wu Fei said. "I'll sort these people out and find out what the hell happened, here."
Heero's arms tightened a bit more and then he nodded against Duo's shoulder and said, "Good. Let's go, Duo. We'll commandeer the ambulance."
Duo hated Heero moving away from him, but the motion of his wheelchair told him that Heero wasn't leaving his side. Strange hands helped Heero get him into the ambulance, but Duo insisted on sitting, instead of laying down and feeling vulnerable, and Heero was there to sit beside him and keep him safe.
Duo wrote on his pad, 'Sorry, about pushing you away. I was wrong .Stubborn. Stupid.'
"I've always understood," Heero replied after a moment, 'but it hurt. If I had told you how I felt about you, awhile ago, you would have trusted me more. I was the one who made stupid choices."
'Time wasn't right,' Duo wrote. 'We weren't ready. Too young. Too stupid.'
"Yes," Heero agreed, but his hand was in Duo's, then, holding tight. "Give me a chance, now, Duo? Please let me into your life? I felt like I was dying while you were gone. You may not need me, but I need you."
Duo wrote, one handed, 'I do need you. I need you to love me.'
"I do!" Heero insisted and his kiss was brief, shy, and awkward.
A stranger cleared his voice uncomfortably, on the opposite side of the vehicle, but Duo didn't care. He smiled and relaxed against Heero, knowing that he could stand down, now, that he could leave everything in Heero's capable hands. There were things that needed saying, though, and a dead body to find. His expression turned serious as he wrote an address for Heero, the words 'dead kidnapper', and the more embarrassing, 'possible video taken'.
Heero's arm was around him and holding him tight again. "You weren't at the hospital, all of this time?" he asked, already knowing the answer, but wishing for a different one.
Duo shook his head, no, with a weary sigh, and wrote, 'Kidnapper had old war
score with me.'
"
He's dead?" Heero asked, voice betraying that the man might not live
much longer if he weren't.
Duo nodded. He wrote. 'Booby trapped building. Bombs everywhere. Careful. Be very careful.' He made notes on the bombs that he knew about and Heero's distress grew.
"How did you escape?" the stranger with them demanded in awe.
"Did someone rescue you?" Heero wanted to know as well.
Duo's grim smile held self satisfaction as he wrote. 'I got away. Wasn't easy.'
"Holy shit!" the other man exclaimed in awe. "You got through all of that blind?"
"Blind or sighted, he's the best," Heero shot back.
'Dirty place,' Duo wrote. 'Made me sick. Lungs. Throat.'
Heero's hand closed over his, stilling his writing. "You're writing over things. You don't have to explain, just now. Relax."
Duo tucked the pencil safely behind one ear and nodded. He coughed for a long moment and then felt exhausted afterward.
"Sleep," Heero insisted. "I'll wake you went when get to the hospital."
Heero did wake him when they arrived, but Duo was allowed consciousness for only a short time, before he was filled full of IVs, prepped for surgery, and put under with medications. His last, muzzy, awareness was of Heero explaining about his disintegrating grafts and a slow poison that they had found in his system, that would have had him eventually rejecting his eye implants. Peter had been determined to ruin Duo's entire face.
"Love you, Duo," Heero told him as the world slipped away.
Duo clung to those words, just as determined as Peter to attain his goal, of surviving the surgery, and of spiting the man, by living his life, no matter what; a life with Heero in it.
__________________________
The operations were many and Duo endured them, as the doctors, at first, tried to stop the damage to his tissue, and then, admitting failure, resigned themselves to replacing his extensive grafts and his cultured eye. Fighting infection, at the same time, and weak from his treatment at Peter's hands, it wasn't necessary for them to tell Duo that he danced on the edge of his body rejecting everything, closing down, completely from infection, and dying. It was certainly clear in the way that people found the need to visit, ignoring the fact that he had told them, before his kidnapping, in no uncertain terms, to leave him the hell alone to learn to cope with his disability. Hilde was first to visit, but then there was Wu Fei, Trowa, and Quatre, each serious in making him understand that he was still their friend and that they didn't want to be pushed away again. It made Duo feel guilty, that he hadn't trusted them, in the first place, to respect him, and to allow him his independence.
Heero was a constant presence, slipping in and out, of Duo's hospital room, as visiting hours permitted. He had been at his bed, before, after the accident had first happened. Duo didn't hurl insults at him now, in anger, pain, and humiliation, and he didn't tell Heero to leave, this time. It was comforting to have the man there. To know that someone was going to make certain that he was treated well, that his wishes were respected and followed, and that he had an anchor point that he could depend on.
"You can't move things, Heero," Duo admonished as he heard Heero moving a bedside tray. His voice had returned, as his infections abated, but the surgeries were keeping him in bed and medicated. That medication was loosening his tongue, he realized, but he couldn't seem to get his words stopped as he added, "If you're going to be with me, you have to learn that things stay where I put them, until I move them. I'm not going to keep tripping over things and searching for shit, got that?"
There was silence from Heero and then his voice came very close to Duo's face. He asked, almost fearfully, "Am I going to be with you?"
Duo frowned and touched his mouth, feeling as if someone had been speaking for him. Is that what he wanted? Was he ready? Was Heero ready? He found his mouth saying bitterly, "I should be asking that."
Heero puzzled that out, a hand gently caressing Duo's hand, and then Heero asked simply, "Why?"
"The way I acted," Duo replied miserably. "I was a complete A-hole to everyone, especially you. I let that guy kidnap me and... do things. He even taped it and threatened to put it on the net for everyone to see. I'm messed up. What if the grafts won't take? What if the eye won't regen? Do you really want to look at raw hamburger, and a gimpy prosthetic, wandering eye, day in and day out? There's lots of reasons for you to want to ditch me... I-".
Heero's lips touched Duo's gently, stopping his words. he said against Duo's lips, "You forgot to add 'smells'. You smell like hospital and being in bed too long."
"Yeah, smells, too," Duo growled, turning his head away from Heero's kiss, even though that was the last thing that he wanted to do.
Heero made an exasperated sound and said, "I was trying to show you how ridiculous you were sounding. I didn't mean that."
"Truth hurts," Duo growled.
"Especially when you only want to face part of the truth," Heero agreed.
"Part? There's more?" Duo wondered acidly.
"You didn't 'let' yourself get kidnapped," Heero pointed out firmly, breathing the words against the side of Duo's face warmly. "You did what you had to, so that you could survive. I am not ashamed of you. As for your face, how you feel is what is important to me. I love you." He paused at that as Duo tensed in amazement. "To me you will always be handsome. Surface scars and wandering eyes don't keep me from seeing that. My feelings aren't there only in fair weather. They're there through the storms, as well."
"No fair bring on the poetic crap," Duo replied, his voice unwieldy with emotion. "besides, I did forget to mention a truth. I'm pretty sure poetry won't cover it up."
"What's that?"
Duo picked at the blankets, trying to keep his mind focused. He was arguing against his own happiness, like an idiot, he realized, but he couldn't stop himself. He was too sure that Heero was being clueless, that he wasn't taking in everything that stood against their happiness together.
"Duo?" Heero urged, kissing him lightly on an ear, one of the only few places not covered in healing flesh.
"The vid," Duo found it hard to say. "It's been time enough for you to see it, for everyone to see it. Can you live with everyone knowing what a pussy I was?"
Heero was silent, and then he said in Duo's ear. "What vid?"
"Heero? What are you saying? It's been awhile. You must have seen it?"
"There wasn't anything to see," Heero replied carefully. "The memory was blank."
"That could cost you your career," Duo whispered back both elated and worried for Heero.
"If anyone can prove wrongdoing," Heero replied and then he lifted Duo's fingers so that he could feel Heero's smile, "and if anyone could get an investigation through Une and the many friends that you have at Preventers."
"Why didn't you tell me before now?" Duo demanded. "It would have saved me a lot of... worry ...embarrassment..."
"You've been very heavily drugged," Heero replied.
"Still am," Duo groused petulantly.
"Not, now, to the point where you can't understand me," Heero pointed out. "I trust you, now, not to say something about it, inadvertently."
"You shouldn't," Duo argued worriedly.
Heero was quiet and Duo felt his lips go into a worried, tight line under his fingers. "Why not?"
Duo sighed and caressed those lips with his calloused fingers. "Because, I still am saying whatever I'm thinking. Take for instance, right now, I can't help telling you how much I love you."
Lips claimed his own and Duo felt a tension, that he hadn't known was there, release him suddenly. Tears stung the corners of his eyes. Heero's thumb smoothed them away tenderly. "It's all right, love,"Heero told him. "You don't have to carry this all on your own. It's time to let me, and your friends, back into your life."
"I wanted to prove that I was still strong," Duo replied thickly, hating the tears.
Heero chuckled. "You don't have to prove what everyone already knows, Duo. No one ever stopped believing in your strength, not for a second."
"I stopped," Duo sighed. "I'm not sure I can believe in it, not after..."
"I saw how you killed that man," Heero argued, sounding as if it were the last thing that he wanted to talk about. "Maybe you played along, at first, but you waited until you had the upper hand and -"
"I decided dying was better," Duo interrupted harshly. "I decided to go out like a man, not a dog. I never wanted you to find me... like that, alive or dead. It didn't have anything to do with stealth and waiting for the right moment. I just decided, that enough, was fucking enough."
"A weak man wouldn't have gotten to that point," Heero told him softly. "You have to believe that."
"Maybe... later," Duo hedged, "when I can forget how his breath smelled and how I hated his voice. When I can forget what it felt like having a dog collar around my neck."
It was funny how he closed his eyes tightly, with emotion, even when there wasn't anything to shut out, Duo thought. He had said too much, if Heero himself had decided not to watch the tape.
"You are going to learn to believe in me, the same way that I believe in you," Heero told him firmly. "I'm not leaving you unless you tell me to go."
"And if I do, even though I love you?" Duo wondered. "Even if I tell you to go, because that's what I think is best for you?"
"That isn't what's best for me," Heero told him with emotion, "So, please don't do that."
Duo sighed. "I need your faith."
"I'll be here to lend it to you," Heero chuckled thickly.
Duo found a smile even though he wasn't, yet, ready to believe.
____________________________________________
"My clothes better match, Yuy," Duo growled as he straightened his Preventer tie.
Heero chuckled as he followed Duo through Preventer headquarters, people making way for Duo's tapping cane, and frankly staring at the infamous agent returned at last to work.
"I'm sorry, love," Heero apologized yet again. "I didn't know that you had the cleaners put your clothes in a certain order. The pink dress shirt does look lovely on you, though."
"Ha, ha," Duo retorted. "I don't own anything pink."
"You look fine," Heero assured him. "I really am sorry."
"I can't expect everything to be perfect right away," Duo grumbled, but then relented. "I had to learn not to put green peppers in your salad and not to move your guns."
"I hope so," Heero replied, sounding pained. "I don't want to spend another three hours in the bathroom or wake up and not know where my gun is."
"Paranoid," Duo chuckled.
"Anal retentive, the both of us," Heero agreed.
"Think we'll make this work?"
"Definitely."
"I hope so." Duo straightened his tie again.
"You look fine," Heero assured him yet again. It was becoming a litany. "Besides, you're a Preventer instructor, specializing in infiltration, not going for a fashion shoot."
Duo touched his face, reassuring himself that his skin was smooth, that the grafts were healed, and that only close inspection could pick out the scars. The scars on his psyche were healing as well, though more slowly. He didn't wake up, now, wondering if he were back in captivity, and the humiliation was beginning to fade as well. Who owed it all to good surgeons and Heero's love and patience, his ability to make Duo so involved with his new life with the man, that he rarely had time to think of the recent past. While it had been frustrating and full of conflict, as they had learned to live with one another, there was definitely love enough to overcome their difficulties and to bring them through to a more peaceful coexistence.
Heero's hand touched Duo's elbow, a signal to wait until something up ahead cleared enough for Duo to proceed. That touch reminded Duo of more intimate touches and he blushed. Their first lovemaking had been awkward and sad. Though Duo had reveled in the passion and the relief to have Heero in bed with him at last, there had been the bitter sweet pain of not being able to see him, of relying on touch alone to tell him about every warm and solid inch of the man. When Heero had understood, though, their next time had been different. It had been a lovemaking using every sense; taste, sound, and touch of sensitive fingers. When Heero had brought Duo's hands to his face, letting him feel Heero's expression just when orgasm hit him, and hearing the man's obvious ecstasy, it had taken him over the edge as well.
"All right?" Heero asked on concern. "You're suddenly very warm."
Duo smiled in embarrassment and whispered, "I think I was having a wet dream just then."
"One of the perks of being blind, I suppose," Hilde's voice snickered on Duo's other side. "You going to stand here all day, Yuy? Duo's an important man. Get these people out of his way." she raised her voice to who ever was ahead of them. "Hey! Get out of people's way!"
Hilde never pulled her punches or worried about being sensitive to Duo's handicap. While Heero was still walking on eggshells, not sure what was acceptable, she was always gifting Duo with her unfiltered, raw statements. While it did make Duo angry on occasion, he was also grateful to her. When he had felt his lowest, she had given him more than enough to laugh at while making him feel accepted, despite what had happened to him.
They were moving again and Hilde was asking, "I'm glad I caught up with you two. What am I wearing for this party tonight?"
Their first get together since the accident. The first time that Duo had allowed guests willingly into his home... now his and Heero's home, he corrected himself. He couldn't help the tension, the thread of anxiousness, that brought him.
"Casual," Heero was replying. "Though Quatre will dress up, he always does."
"And how many maguanacs will be there?" Hilde wondered sharply. "I don't think inviting him was such a good idea."
"We told him one," Heero replied.
"The rest will be outside, guarding the door," Hilde retorted. "You can't trust them to do what they're told. They won't even listen to Quatre when it comes to his protection, you know that."
"I do have it under control," Heero growled back.
Duo straightened his tie, one last time, and pulled away from Heero's grip on his elbow. "Guys?" He said firmly.
"What, love?" Heero wondered in concern.
"What's up?" Hilde chimed in, just as concerned.
"I can take it from here," Duo assured them, ignoring the little panicked voice that was saying otherwise. "I'm sure there will be lots of helpful newbie agents who are smart enough to get me to my lecture podium. Have a nice day. See you at lunch."
His reply was silence.
"Guys..." Duo warned.
"All right," Heero said uncertainly and then stronger. "I'll come by to pick you up-"
"Nope. You'll meet him in the commissary, right?" Hilde snickered.
"Right," Duo agreed with a grin. "Snag us a table, Yuy. I'll see you at noon."
"Love you," Heero replied with strong emotion.
"Love you, too," Duo told him. "Later."
Tapping his cane, Duo went on alone. He only had to ask for redirection once and then he was walking into a large space filled with talking people.
"Good morning!" Duo called out to the room and the talking slowly petered out. "Glad to hear that my boring lecture on infiltration technique and theory is so popular. Can someone help me find the podium?"
A young voice said as a hand took his elbow. "Are you kidding, sir? Of course your lecture is popular. Who wouldn't want someone like you teaching them?" Voices agreed with him.
"Why thank you, agent," Duo chuckled as he found the podium and fingered the controls for the three dimensional vid behind him. "Now, if everyone's ready, we can get started."
It was a start, Duo thought. A new life where he could rely on his lover, his friends, and the people that he worked with, and yet still have his cherished independence. He didn't have to shut them out any longer. It was time to let them all in.
END
.
TBC