Disclaimer: I don't own them and nobody pays me for this so leave me alone you big meanies!
Warning: Guys having sex with guys. Violence. Angst. Box of kleenex a necessity. Mention of rape. Bad language. Do Da Do Da. Yadda, Yadda, Yadda. IT'S GRAPHIC! There, now that I warned you, stop complaining to me that you didn't know. I thought the nc-17 rating was enough, but I guess it wasn't.
Duo: Zechs and Trieze were out of character in the last fic.
Kracken: Duh!
Duo: They just wouldn't do that to me! Stick to the script!
Kracken: Oh, okay, have it your way. I just needed some handy bad guys. Gomen.
Duo: You had better be sorry, you bad thing you, now, on with the fic!
Quatre pushed the plate of herbed potato pancakes across the table. It scraped along the rough wood. "More, Duo?"
Quatre backed up, wiping his hands on his waist apron. Duo watched him tensely as he reached out and pulled the plate towards himself. "Thanks, Q-man. These are good. What are they again?"
"Well, it's just fried potato dough with some herbs. Griddle cakes or pancakes, I suppose," Quatre replied as he turned back to the stove.
"Nah," Duo protested. "Pancakes are fluffy and you poor syrup and butter all over 'em! These are different."
"These are actually good for you," Quatre explained as if he expected an unpleasant reaction at that news. He wasn't disappointed.
"Good for me?!" Duo growled. "Breakfast is supposed to be sugary and fun, Quat, not serious and good for me."
Quatre braced his Space Heart and broached the subject he had been dreading at last. "Uh, well, Duo, you need your strength. We're going to be moving to another safe house. We've been here too long. Oz will pinpoint our location soon just by vectoring all of our latest strikes. You know that."
Duo's grin was gone and so was his false good humor. "Moving?"
"Up into the North Woods," Quatre explained. "It's a good place to hide our Gundams and it has an eagle's eye view of several Oz installations in the valley nearby." He swallowed and kept wiping his hands on his apron nervously. "Heero's meeting us there."
"I thought he was staying solo," Duo replied, stiffly, ducking his head so that his brown bangs hid his distressed eyes. "After- after we talked, after I told him how things had to be between us, he just.... pulled back and shut me out. He was there, but, he wasn't. Ya know what I mean?"
"You wouldn't let anyone near you," Quatre reminded him, as if he had to. The last few weeks had been rough on everyone, not only Heero. "You screamed, had nightmares, threw things and shouted abuse at anyone who came within ten feet of you. Even now, you're up early having breakfast alone because you can't let anyone near you...," Quatre faltered, "except me, and that's only because I'm the only one smaller than you. You think you can handle me."
"I've always trusted you," Duo sighed as he ran his hands over his shadowed face. "You aren't like a regular guy. You're more like a-"
"If you are going to say what I think you are, just don't!" Quatre growled.
Duo smiled shakily. "Uh, well, you're gentle and I know you don't want... that... from me. Is that better?"
Quatre nodded, but he was very serious now too. "You haven't talked about what happened at that Oz manufacturing plant... maybe, if you talked about it with me, now, before anyone else comes down. It might make you feel better. "
Duo openly sneered. "Feel better? I was rutted on by an Oz general and then smeared into the floor by two guards afterwards because I was-I was upset about it. What's there to talk about? All of my childhood wounds, that Heero carefully stitched up and healed, were ripped open by them. Then they rubbed salt into them to boot so that they would never heal! Talking about it won't ever make me feel better Quatre!"
There was a long silence and then Duo plastered on his grin again and asked cheerfully, "More pancakes?"
"No, you've had enough," Quatre replied shakily, his space heart aching, as he fended Duo's hands away from the plate reserved for the other pilots. "If you have more, you know what will happen. It'll just be a waste."
Duo, the starving street child, looked out of Duo the pilot of Deathscythe's eyes, ready to fight for his food. It passed just as quickly and Duo was standing up, letting Quatre take the food away from him.
"See," Quatre observed with a smile. "Things aren't as bad as you think. Four days ago, you tried to fight me for the buttered toast. If you'll let me take pancakes away from you..."
"Ah, but they're 'good for you' pancakes, Q-man," Duo replied and managed a genuine smile in return. "I'd fight you for the 'real' kind."
Quatre laughed, but his laughter stopped when he heard Trowa and Wu Fei talking as they approached the kitchen. The look of wild fear that engulfed Duo's good humor was painful to see.
Duo darted out of the kitchen, Quatre and conversation forgotten, as he raced to get back to the place he had made his safe haven, his bedroom. When he reached it, it wasn't enough to lock the door. He crawled under the bed and huddled into a ball of misery as he shivered with fear and agonized over his coming reunion with Heero.
Duo knew that Heero still loved him and that Heero still wanted to be with him. That look the pilot of Wing had given him several weeks ago hadn't been a rejection, but an acceptance of the messed up individual that Duo had become and was likely to stay. Duo had cried for almost an hour but, in the end, he hadn't blamed Heero for leaving a few days afterwards. He hadn't even been able to let the man come within five paces of him without screaming. That wasn't a relationship, that was Hell!
Huddled under the bed, shaking like a leaf, Duo was glad that Heero couldn't see how much he had fallen apart. To know that they would soon be together again... Duo resolved to keep the distance between them. He couldn't allow Heero to witness his weakness, his madness, and his inability to control himself. Duo wept at the decision, feeling his world and his life crumple up and blow away.
Downstairs, Quatre paused as he served Trowa and Wu Fei their pancakes. He dropped the plate and began to weep, his hand grasping at his space heart as the plate broke with a resounding crash!
"No one is going to touch you, Duo," Quatre said for the hundredth time as Duo shivered and huddled in the front seat of the S.U.V. Quatre was driving. Wu Fei and Trowa were seated in the back, keeping as still and silent as possible, but when joints and muscles needed relief and they were forced to move, Duo started each time and clamped down hard on a reflex that would have had him screaming and throwing himself out of the window.
"We have a long way to go, Maxwell," Wu Fei said suddenly in exasperation. "We can't travel the entire way like this."
The Gundams had already been moved. Deathscythe had been piloted by Quatre and Duo hadn't been able to pull himself together enough to protest. Moving Duo himself had been left until last. Quatre had suggested he drive alone with the pilot of Deathscythe, but the others had refused. Trowa especially had worried about Duo becoming violent.
Duo had shuddered at Wu Fei's voice, curling up into a ball and putting his hands over his head as if not seeing anything could stop him from being hurt. When Wu Fei's voice came again, Duo was nearly on the verge of losing himself.
"Take deep breaths, Duo," Wu Fei ordered. "In... do it! Breathe in! Breathe in, Duo!" Wu Fei's voice snarled commandingly, not to be denied. Duo found himself helplessly doing what he was told. Helpless. That's exactly how he felt and it was the root of his troubles and the canker in his soul. No matter what he did, Duo believed, no matter how he fought, or how he ran, he was always going to be caught, controlled, and used.
"Again!" Wu Fei snarled. "In, now out, in, out, in, out! Trowa began to protest, but Wu Fei ignored the tall boy. "Again," Wu Fei repeated and his voice softened. "Again," softer. "Again," even softer, his voice becoming gentle and taking on a monotonous hypnotic tone.
Duo breathed in and out until his head swam and he became close to hyperventilating. It gave him a slight, euphoric rush, flooding his overloaded nerves and strangely distracting him from the focus of his terror. He drifted, and, for a brief moment, he could only think of his breathing and his spinning head. In that moment, Wu Fei spoke again.
"Remember the wall, Duo? The white wall as tall as the sky and as wide as the world? Step into it. It's a safe place, silent, numb, a center of stability when all else is confusion."
Duo's frantic mind heard the word 'safe' and it darted for that imaginary wall and slipped inside, like a wild animal darting for freedom. It was freedom. It enveloped Duo's mind. He filled it with the whiteness, with the imaginary quiet, and he did feel safe.
"Duo?"
Duo started, unfolding and gripping a hand on his knife hilt. Looking wildly around, he was surprised to find himself alone in the S.U.V. The passenger side door was wide open. Snow was falling gently. It was very cold. Quatre stood three yards away and called Duo's name again.
"Duo? We're here."
He had actually slept! Duo hadn't had a decent night's sleep since his capture by Oz. He couldn't help feeling grateful to Wu Fei. It seemed the Chinese boy wasn't as much of a bastard as he had always thought. Their time in the cabin, his rescue, and the meditation therapy at the last safe house had shown Duo a side of Wu Fei that he could definitely call 'friend'... if he hadn't been terrified by the very thought of the man coming anywhere near him.
Duo unwound from his cramped position in the seat. Muscles and joints protested. Half healed wounds from his interrogation, rape, and brutal beating by Oz stabbed and pulled with pain. He was a disaster, a broken pile of shit that was quickly freezing over in the cold. He wasn't anything anyone could love. He couldn't love himself. He hated himself, hated his weakness, hated his fear. If Heero still loved him... well, Duo thought bitterly, he would end up hating Heero too, hating the pilot of Wing for stooping so low when he could have so much better.
"Duo, please come inside," Quatre called anxiously.
'Inside' was a ramshackle house set back in a stand of trees. Mountains, clouded with snow, were all around it. Smoke puffed from a fireplace and the building looked to be two stories tall. Quatre always picked the safe houses and he liked large buildings, even though they were a bitch to keep warm or cool and they were usually ready to collapse. He liked being able to give each pilot their own room. It helped keep down tensions among such opposing personalities. With Duo in the state he was, it was now a necessity.
Duo slid out of the seat, out of the S.U.V. and onto the ground with one hand on the door. That one hand was all that kept his legs from going out from under him. Quatre instinctively made a very large mistake. He darted forward to catch Duo as the pilot's boots slipped on a patch of ice.
Duo didn't see the kind, caring face of the blonde Arabian, he didn't hear Quatre's exclamation of concern, and his mind didn't register that the young man was only trying to keep him from banging his head against the rocky, snow covered ground. Duo only saw the hands, only felt their threat as they gripped his coat hard and hauled at him to support his weight. Duo had his knife out in an instant and he was slashing at Quatre's throat before the blonde could react.
An iron hard hand closed on Duo's wrist. With a negligent flick, it sent the knife flying from Duo's hand while Quatre, his blue eyes wide, slithered in the same patch of ice to get away. He landed hard on his rump and then just stared up in shock at Duo as the pilot of Deathscythe began to scream and thrash in the new arrival's grip.
"Why did you allow him to keep his knife?" Heero demanded of Quatre.
"It-it made him f-feel safer," Quatre stammered, coming to terms with how closely he had just come to dying.
As if Duo were a small child, Heero grabbed both of his wrists and dragged him, screaming and braid flying, into the safe house. Quatre slowly found his footing and followed anxiously.
"Let go, you fuck!" Duo was screaming. "Let go! Let go! I'll kill you if you don't let go!"
Trowa and Wu Fei were both stunned. They had been putting their gear into order when Heero burst in with his burden. When Quatre followed close behind, looking dishelved and bruised, Trowa was furious. "I warned you Quatre! I warned you that he wouldn't know you if he had a fit."
Heero ignored them as he went straight up the flight of worn stairs, chose the first bedroom he came to, and then carried Duo into it. A rough sheet and blanket were on a narrow bed. Heero tossed Duo down onto it and the boy barely had time to bounce before Heero was turning and heading for the doorway again.
Duo was a ball of erupting, screaming, insane fury. "Stay away from me. I hate you! Do you hear me! I don't want you near me ever again, not any of you!"
Duo wept, slammed fists into the wall, into the headboard, into the floor, before collapsing on the bed again, his inner demons quieting at last. His knuckles were scraped raw, swollen and bleeding from the blows. His injuries were aching and stabbing him viciously, warning him that he had stressed the stitching there. Pulling the pillow towards him, he determined to fall face down into it and smother himself. A small box, no bigger than the end of Duo's finger, stopped him.
Duo stared at the box, eyes swollen from crying and his own throbbing headache. It seemed forever before curiosity won over the urge to crush the box and fling it out of his way. It was significant, that box, his mind told him as it began to reason again. At last, Duo gingerly opened it.
Duo blinked and then felt chagrin, anger, sorrow, depression, and then weary acceptance as he pulled out a small, pink note. The words on it were in black and written in a delicate script. A slight smell of cologne hung on it; masculine, heady. The note read, 'You may cut my heart into a thousand pieces, but every piece will still love you.' Under the tiny note was a golden heart charm nestled in a piece of white silk trimmed in gold.
Duo ran to the door. He flung himself out of the room and to the stair railing. Leaning over, face wild and running with tears, he looked down at the other young men gathered below him who were sorting out the supplies.
"Heero!" Duo shouted.
They all looked up, but Heero was the only one who looked as if he knew what was coming. His face was set like granite and his eyes were cobalt, blue wells of misery as Duo crushed the box, the note, and the gift in both hands and then flung them over the railing at Heero. "You were just a good fuck, Heero Yuy! I never loved you! Get a clue and stay out of my life!"
Heero stepped forward and caught the crushed gift in one hand before it could land on the wooden floor. He stared at Duo for an endless moment and then he nodded, once, and simply went back to sorting the supplies. The others looked from Duo to Heero and then they did the same, not knowing what else to do or say.
"Call me when there's a mission!" Duo shouted at them. "Otherwise, stay away from me!"
Duo wanted to hurt them, wanted them to stay away so that he didn't have to deal with the fear any more. Quatre surprised him, by reprimanding him as if he were a child. "Now, Duo, go and rest. You're being ridiculous!" The blonde Arabian said as he rummaged through a pack, not even looking up, but face clearly forcing cheerfulness. "We are your friends-"
"Don't speak for me," Trowa growled. "He tried to kill you!"
Quatre ignored him and continued his exasperated, hectoring tone. "I'll make you something hot and good for lunch and then you can go down and look over Deathscythe if you feel up to it, Duo."
"Of course I feel up to it!" Duo startled himself by retorting. "Who knows what you did to him bringing him here!"
"Well, I did spill that thermos of tea on control panel alpha...," Quatre mused.
"You what?!" Duo exclaimed. "That had better be a joke Quatre Winner or-or..." Duo gripped the railing hard with both hands, suddenly disoriented as his mind shifted out of his insanity. He took a shuddering breath, blinked, and then looked down at the young men working below him. Too late! he groaned to himself. He had already said terrible things to Heero. He had tried to kill Quatre! He had showed them all what an unstable, weak, piece of shit he really was. It was too late to call any of it back. With a soul wrenching groan, Duo fled into his bedroom and locked the door behind him.
Duo was tired of crying. He was also tired of being alone. After three days of being isolated in his room, or working on his Gundam by himself, he was ready for a mission, a chance to get out and do what he did best, what he could still do; accomplish a mission in the grueling war. But, nothing came for him, or if it had, no one was trusting him enough to tell him. Duo was infuriated and frustrated, but confronting the others and demanding an accounting was beyond his ability.
Duo couldn't face the others even at meal times. His food was left outside his door without comment. Magazines, books, even a new CD that he liked, had been placed on each tray. Duo knew whose particular touch that was. The cold, perfect soldier was a poet deep down below his own isolation and pain and as kind as Quatre if anyone could dig that deep. Duo had managed to, because Heero had allowed it. The young man had let Duo see that secret part of him, the vulnerable spot in his armor that was his heart. That heart, he had given to Duo and Duo had crushed it under the weight of his fear and self loathing.
So, it was to Duo's surprise, that Heero entered his room, sat at the small desk, and placed his laptop on it. With his back to Duo, who was sprawled listlessly on the bed, he opened it and began typing something with complete concentration. Duo blinked at him, feeling the panic rising, the scream at the back of his throat, the ever present 'feeling' of being abused as if it was happening then and there.
"D-Don't do this!" Duo stammered. He curled up into a tight ball, trembling. "I can't stand it! I can't, Heero!"
"Coward," Heero replied, cold and emotionless, and continued working.
Duo felt himself melting inside, that one word eating him alive.
Heero ignored Duo and typed for over an hour. Duo lost track of time, drifting in nightmare, unable to crawl out of the black hole of depression and hate that was overwhelming him. When Heero stood at last, the laptop clicking shut, he gave Duo a contemptuous look, tucked it under his arm, and left. When the door shut firmly behind him, Duo sobbed himself into nightmares.
And so it continued every day, twice a day. Heero would enter. Duo would cower and crawl with fear while the pilot of Wing typed away, back stiff in his black turtle neck sweater; a barrier he dared Duo to cross. Only once in awhile would Heero deign to speak and then it was only to insult Duo cruelly.
"How many men have ridden you?" Heero asked one day. "Why was one more enough to break you?"
Another day, "I thought you were someone I could count on, trust. You aren't fit for anything now."
Yet another, "You let Oz break you. You're a waste. You don't deserve a Gundam."
And lastly, "Just give up Deathscythe. I already told Dr. G that you're worthless now. You might as well crawl back to L2. What was it you wanted to do after the war? Scrap metal. Go and sell scrap, Duo. You are a dead weight here."
The last insult broke through something in Duo, the wall of pain, humiliation, and utter fear that an Oz General had injected into his already damaged brain and body. He couldn't be afraid any more, not when he was so angry, not when he was being stripped of the self respect he held so dear, and not when something as important as Deathscythe was about to be taken away from him. That Gundam represented freedom for the colonies and safety for the people. It was bigger than fear, bigger than humiliation, even bigger than his love for Heero. No one could pilot Deathscythe like he, Duo, could. No one could do the job that he had been trained to do so well. Too many people, too many lives, were depending on him. The wall crumbled and then blew apart. With a furious shout and a foul curse, Duo leapt from the bed and threw Heero out of his chair with a solid punch across the face.
"Son-of-a-bitch!" Duo shouted, panting with fury. "Nobody takes Deathscythe from Shinigami and lives!"
Heero regained his feet, rubbing his jaw, eyes intense under his tangle of dark bangs. "I am taking it away. You aren't fit."
"Think so, buddy?" Duo mocked viciously. "Try me." Duo threw another punch. It landed solidly into Heero's face again. The pilot of Wing swayed, but it hardly seemed to phase him. Heero punched back, but his punches were hard and deadly. Duo ducked and felt the wind of it pass over his head. "That all you got?" Duo mocked and landed an upper cut into Heero's stomach.
Too easy. Heero bent and then spun around. His steel toed boot caught Duo in the shoulder. Duo went sprawling with a grunt of pain, feeling skin tear off. Heero threw himself on top. Duo punched him again... and again. Heero rocked with both blows, his lip splitting and dribbling blood. They rolled. Duo straddled Heero and landed an elbow into the boy's gut. It was like hitting steel. Heero didn't even grunt as Duo's arm went numb.
"Remember what I taught you, Little Baka!" Heero growled and flipped Duo off.
Their combat became more formalized. Wild punches gave way to calculated kicks and chops. Duo felt endorphins flood him as sweat poured from every pore. He panted and wiped at his brow. Heero took that opportunity to attack. Duo met him with equal force.
They went down together and Duo... Duo forgot to be afraid in the wildness of the moment. It was sheer relief to finally be fighting back, to take out all of his pain and horror on someone at last, to fight back when he hadn't been able to fight back at all when he had been a prisoner of Oz. In that exhilarating moment, as Duo saw Heero rock and nearly go down from a blow of his, he realized where the root of the fear lay. It had been his helplessness that had frightened him. That, more than the brutality of the act of rape, had broken his mind. Heero had known it, telling Duo as much when he had wondered how one more man raping him had broken him when so many before him hadn't.
Duo broke away from Heero and held up his hands as he backed away. Heero rolled to his feet, panting almost as hard as Duo. There was a glow of sexual, as well as physical, excitement in his flushed face. That almost frightened Duo again, until Heero uttered words that had often been repeated throughout their relationship as the pilot of Wing sat down heavily in the one chair. "I wont ever touch you, Duo, unless you want me to."
Duo held up a knife, the one he had snatched from its hiding place at the back of Heero's blue jeans. It flashed as he pointed it straight at Heero, the madness beginning to glitter and return to his eyes. "Damn right you won't!"
Heero held out one hand to Duo, as if offering a target. Duo stared at it, at the calloused fingers and the scarred palm. It was a test and Duo knew he had to pass it if he was to keep, not only Deathscythe but Heero's respect. It was time for Shinigami to show what he was really made of.
Duo slowly approached and reached out with his free hand. He hesitated, fingers trembling inches from Heero's fingers, and then he was touching them very lightly. Their warmth startled him. A shock passed between those fingertips. Hormones? Endorphins? Sexual electricity? Soul meeting soul? Duo didn't know what it was. He didn't know what to call it. All he knew was that Heero was HIS and... he was Heero's. That SOMETHING that passed between them didn't leave him any doubt.
Duo dropped his fingers at last. It was as far as he could go just then, but it was enough. They had reaffirmed something important. Still, Heero added something more, a return of something to Duo almost as important. "You are the bravest man I know, Duo."
Respect. Heero's respect. This young man, this love of his life, was giving it back to him again. Duo smiled and touched his own fingers, the ones that had touched Heero's fingers, to his lips. He kissed them and smiled his love at Heero. Heero grunted in satisfaction and managed a smile in return.
***Owari***
A Duo, Kracken interview for the nice people who reviewed and asked some questions:
Duo: So, will I ever get some from Heero? You know 1x2?
Kracken: Yeah.
Duo: Oh, goody! At last! Okay, next question: happy ending?
Kracken: Always.
Duo: All right! Next question... is Wu Fei ever going to get some? Ya know, some 5x2?
Kracken: Oh, that's too tough a question. Next.
Duo (scowling): Meanie! Okay, let's see, what's left... here's one, why is the sky blue?
Kracken: Hm, the yellow of the sun filtering through the ozone?
Duo: You're guessing. Last question. Who is the Scarlet Pimpernel?
Kracken: Hey! I'm not going to ruin the suspense for someone who hasn't read it or seen it.
Duo: Meaning... you don't know? No, don't guess again! Okay, that's it, get on with writing some more. No, put DOWN the POCKY and write!
Kracken (*sniffles*): But I want my pocky!
Duo (sighs): If you must, but at least type with one hand.
Kracken: All right!
If you review, I get happy, do a little dance, and then I write a lot faster, okay? :)