Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Hush ❯ Chapter 7

Hush

By Xero Sky

Pairing: 1x2, maybe others, maybe not

Warnings: (For the whole story) NC-17, AU, lemon, angst, violence, mention of NCS, and OOC with reasons for it. Lots of profanity. Duo POV.

Summary: In an alternate timeline, Treize Kushrenada's New Alliance has won the day: the earth and the colonies enjoy an uneasy peace. And one Duo Maxwell, terrorist, Gundam pilot, and general pain in the ass, is unexpectedly out of prison. Now he only has to confront his future… and his past.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to their respective copyright holders. No profit is intended from this work of fan fiction.

Archive: http://www.xero-sky.com

http://www.templeofthegoddess.com

and ask!

Chapter 7

The kingdom of Sanc has made an industry out of peace, which makes sense, I guess, considering that it's not a particularly big or rich country. If you can't kick the shit out of your neighbors, making peace between them is a good way to keep your borders intact.

There's about a dozen major peace treaties called "the Treaty of Sanc" because of where they were signed. There are shelves full of books on the brotherhood of man by Sanc philosophers.

Plus there's that whole "Peacecraft" thing. Subtle.

I have to wonder how much longer that reputation is gonna hold up. For one thing, there's Lady Relena Peacecraft-Kushrenada and her soon-to-be kid. Any chance Sanc had of shaking loose from Treize is gone right there, and what does that do for "total pacifism"?

There there's His Serene Majesty Milliardo "Masked Man" Peacecraft. He may have refused a coronation in favor of setting up a Regency Council to rule the country, but I sincerely doubt much happens without his approval. For instance, I'm pretty sure no one authorized the construction of an experimental mobile suit base next door to his palace without getting the royal okay first.

Mobile suits just don't give people warm, fuzzy feelings of peace, for some reason.

As for the first-class security complex *beneath* the Sanc palace… It didn't make me feel warm or fuzzy at all. If and when I tell the rest of the world about it, I don't think it's gonna do much for them either.

I have to hand it to the engineers, though. They'd installed a couple of miles' worth of concrete and steel underneath an18th century palace without wrecking the building, and done it in complete stealth. I hadn't had a clue anything was down there, despite infiltrating the palace once and even living in the damned place.

Later on I found out that the big fancy hole in the ground was supposed to be capable of surviving a direct attack from a Gundam. Heero failed to mention that when he was pulling me down flight after flight of stairs after him. He was supposed to be saving me from Wufei, so you'd think that would be an important thing to mention, right?

Bastard.

I knew that there'd been a general evacuation, but no one else seemed to be going our way. Maybe that shouldn't have been much of a surprise, since these stairs had been behind a concealed door near the end of a dead-end hallway. Seemed kind of secluded for an emergency escape route, if you asked me.

From the speed Heero was going, our destination seemed to be all the way at the bottom of the stairway to hell. Grey concrete, lit with white-blue industrial lights, went on and on and fucking on. Other than the thudding of our boots and the increasingly harsh sounds of my breathing, there wasn't any sign of humanity at all.

Heero didn't even seem to notice me, though he had me by the wrist. What I could see of his expression was grim; his mouth was set in that familiar hard line. Mission-mode Yuy, saving our asses. Hurray.

I didn't spare his mood much thought. I was hard on his heels because his hand on my wrist was as forgiving as a manacle, and because I wasn't sure if he'd just keep dragging me if I fell. Falling down concrete steps can suck more than I want to remember. I only hit every third or fourth step, but at least I stayed on my feet. It was an accomplishment, since I was distracted. Some of my boggled brain was focused on keeping my balance, but the rest was wondering when and how I should start trying to get a little payback.

Generally speaking, I was unhappy with Mr. Yuy.

When we'd gone down two or three stories, the ground shuddered and the lights flickered for a moment. Heero glanced back at me and I smiled brightly. Duo always smiles, right? It made him blink, and I took that as my cue. I threw myself backwards, using my weight to pull him off balance into me as I kneed him hard in the crotch. I had time to slam an elbow into his face just before we went crashing into a wall.

It wasn't my most brilliant plan ever, but I wasn't exactly in the best shape to mess with him. I had to work with what I had, and if surprise and a tiny moment of hesitation were all there was, well… I hit the concrete hard, barely keeping my head from cracking into it. With the help of Heero's own momentum, though, I also hit *him* hard. He'd given me just enough of an opening to get what I wanted.

Then it was over. Unless I felt like banging skulls with him, we'd pretty much reached the end of my special bag of violent tricks. I didn't have the space or the leverage for much else.

I hadn't really thought it would get me anywhere, and I was right. Heero had his hands braced on either side of my arms, and he was standing close enough to effectively trap me against the wall.

One of Heero's most charming traits is the sheer amount of violence he inspires. And, Christ knows, I was inspired. My stunt had gotten me two shots in on someone who could probably dismember me without breaking a sweat. Up close, I thought I could see some pain in his face, and a nice dark bruise was rising on his cheek. I hoped he hurt. If anyone deserved it, Heero did.

It was a little bit of revenge, and it was good, but retaliation had to come next, right? That was how the world worked. Rebellion got your ass stomped into the ground. I'd tripped a prison guard once, just out of frustrated loathing, and ended up with three fractured vertebrae and a broken collarbone. Back then, I'd had the comfort, if it was that, of knowing that they wouldn't beat me to death. They needed me for their little videos.

As far as I knew, Heero didn't need me for anything at all.

I tried to look him in the eye, to get a glimpse of what was coming, but that blue flickered away from me. I tensed, waiting for it.

Very slowly, he leaned forward, his eyes downcast, and breathed in suddenly and sharply, as if he was scenting me. I felt the warm wash of breath over my skin as he exhaled.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up. He was dangerous, more dangerous than anyone else I knew, and we couldn't have been standing much closer. I couldn't read him. I didn't understand what was happening.

The ground shuddered again, but he didn't move, and so neither did I. He was so close to me that my front prickled with his heat, even as cold soaked into my back from the concrete. I felt feverish, and confused.

It felt like an eternity before he spoke.

"Feel better now?" he asked. His voice was low, but he sounded amused, as if getting kneed in the crotch was a joke he'd indulged me in.

"Did Treize cut your balls off while he was 'fixing' you, shithead?"

His expression turned serious, and he met my eyes this time. "I blocked a lot of your knee with my upper thigh. Your elbow shot was accurate but ineffective. It was a clumsy attack. Given your current condition, it was better than expected, but not up to your prior standards."

"You really are an arrogant bastard, aren't you?" I hissed. He'd *expected* it?

"Yes."

I opened my mouth to retort, but I couldn't think of anything really good to say to that.

He moved back a step or two, not really letting me out of his reach. I was still in his domain, so to speak, and he was enjoying it.

Not that there was much to read in his face. Heero was never going to be all that expressive. What you got from him was mostly in the eyes, and in the subtle curves of his mouth. Someone, somewhere, had taught him that any kind of personal expression, any kind of visible emotion, was dangerous. Whatever Treize had done to him, it hadn't changed that. I watched the line of his mouth, reading the lack of anger there, and the slight amusement that told me he wasn't going to hit me back. At least not now.

Transgression and no punishment for it. I couldn't trust him, but I wanted to, just for that. Consider it a form of mental masturbation.

I hated the relief I felt. Hated it almost as badly as I hated fear.

He held out a hand and smiled faintly, as if trying to reassure me. "If we're done, I'd like to get you downstairs before Wufei decides he's really pissed."

Jesus *Christ*.

I'd had enough, suddenly. Zechs, Quat, Treize, fucking Wufei, and Heero goddamned Yuy - my dear friends. My fucked-up, lying, manipulative *friends*, trying to kill me and save me and whatever the hell they had planned for me. I sneered at his hand and swatted it away.

"What, you're gonna save my ass now? After that little show you put on for Chang up there? Well, aren't *you* the hero? Why the hell don't you just put a bullet in my head?" I yelled at him.

"After all the trouble I went through to get you here?" he asked mildly.

"Yeah. My 'benefactor', right? Pulled me out of my cell, got me de-chipped, had Q watch over me, and then arranged for that... that ... that stupid *shit* to happen right where Chang could catch it on video!! Thanks, buddy! What the hell would I have done without you?" I shouted, most of my restraint gone, just like that.

He was so familiar, even standing there in an OZ uniform, that I felt free in some weird way to let it all go. I had spent so much time bitching at Heero back in the day that it seemed perfectly normal to yell at him now. Any fear I had left was washed away in a flood of comfortable outrage.

Of course, back in the day, it had never done me any fucking good.

So I wasn't really ready for his expression to become quite so solemn, or for those deep blue eyes to meet mine quite so directly.

His usual "dealing with Duo" face had combined complete disinterest and faint irritation in a way no one else could. It hadn't given me the slightest impression that he cared about anything at all, much less the long-haired psycho who piloted the spare-parts mecha.

This look was fundamentally different. It puzzled me, but I took a breath anyway, getting ready to yell at him some more.

"Your execution was scheduled for Christmas Eve," he said.

My jaw snapped shut.

"What?"

"Christmas Eve. By electrocution. On live video feed over the colonial and terrestrial networks," he said clearly, as if he wasn't sure I would understand. "They were going to show how the Alliance works to bring peace on Earth and goodwill towards men by executing their favorite terrorist."

I opened my mouth, shut it, and opened it again. It's not like I hadn't expected something like that. I'd been sentenced to life in prison, but things happened, didn't they? In that hellhole, they'd happened to someone, somewhere, just about every damned day.

That's still different from hearing the date and method. I don't suppose there was any really serious reason I should believe Heero, but I did. The fact that they'd wanted to broadcast it live on *Christmas Eve*, of all times, may have been the thing that did it. It takes a rare breed of evil asshole to come up with something like that, and the finest in the solar system were employed by the Alliance prison system.

"That's..." I started, and then stopped again, shaking my head. "Then what's the point of all this?"

My gesture took in the stairs, the palace, the 'rescue' or whatever it was, and, essentially, my whole damned life.

"Treize owed me something, don't you think?" he said, taking hold of my wrist. He was gentle, but I couldn't break loose when I tried. Question and answer time was most definitely over.

Mostly for something to say, because I couldn't think quite clearly at the moment, I said his name. He stopped a millisecond before pulling me after him again. He had really remarkable eyes, I thought uselessly.

"I hate you," I said plainly. "You know that, right?"

"Yes," he said, with that little smile again.

"And I will cut my own throat before I ever fight for Treize Kushrenada."

"Duo," he said, looking for all the world like a man taking a vow. "Your war is over."

The ground shook again, but that time I barely felt it.

*****

You know, Zechs Merquise was around six feet of the meanest motherfucker I've ever met in person.

Oh, as far as I knew, he was a decent and honorable man, given that he was Treize's right arm and an OZ general. He was also just about as psycho in a mobile suit as Heero, and that's saying something.

I watched him beat the shit out of Wufei as I sat sulking on an astonishingly comfortable couch in the middle of a command center so far down I wasn't sure if it was still *in* Sanc.

The sulking came from watching Shenlong in action. It was fairly obvious to me, at least, that there were a lot more of my baby's parts under that hood than I wanted to think about. Shenlong had been a nasty piece of machinery to face before, but now... it was faster than it had any right to be. DeathScythe-fast, to be specific. Wufei was piloting one of the scariest suits I'd ever seen.

Not that it did him much good.

Zechs was pissed *off*. That ugly suit of his might be slower than "Shen-Scythe", but Zechs was all over Wufei from the second he arrived on the battlefield. Wufei lost his trident within the first few minutes. I'd always wondered what would happen if a fully charged beam weapon got cut in half.

Nifty explosion.

I have to give Wufei credit, though: he took the loss of his trident and the use of one arm pretty well. He didn't back down. The other OZ mecha drew off, giving the field to the big boys, so Wufei only had to worry about Epyon. I bet he thought he could make it.

Hell, I would have thought so too.

Epyon out-massed Shenlong, and Zechs used that to his advantage, simply battering the smaller suit. That sword took chunks out of Wufei's armor, and I could practically hear the whine of the engines as Shenlong tried to remain standing. As it went on, I could see Wufei falling back completely into defensive mode. He didn't seem to have the same spark, or maybe the same talent, as the man trying to kill him. Zechs was ferocious and cold, making weak spots and hitting them again and again.

I had seen fighting like that before, but it hadn't been Zechs piloting.

It had been the man sitting next to me.

Heero, the annoying fuck who had dragged me down here so I could watch all this in what had to be the comfiest command center I'd ever seen. I mean... couches? What the hell?

The room was big and fitted out with all of the equipment you'd expect in the way of communications. A giant view screen dominated one wall, and three rows of consoles were lined up across the lower area of the room. That part was actually pretty normal, by military standards, if a little more plush.

The raised half of the room was functionally the command area, and there were consoles here, too. The heavy non-conductive, non-skid tile down below had been exchanged for more expensive, subtly decorated tile up here. Leather chairs were positioned in front of the control stations. The stark overhead lighting became more tasteful and specific, with hidden fixtures lighting up each important area. Couches were positioned along the wall here and there so that people could sit rather than stand at attention. The upholstery coordinated with the tile and the paint.

Don't get me wrong. It seemed to be efficient. No one seemed distracted by the stylized floral patterns or the way the leather creaked.

It just seemed unreal to me.

Almost as unreal as sitting next to Heero and watching as Wufei was forced to retreat.

I hated watching it after awhile. Wufei didn't seem to have the spirit to win this fight, and I wondered how much of that was due to seeing one more of his old friends with the enemy now. I stared down at my hands, then at the gleam of Heero's boots. Perfectly shined boots, of course. I remembered the ugly-ass yellow shoes he'd always liked so much. At least going over to the enemy had improved his taste in footwear.

"Why aren't you out there?" I asked without looking at him.

"What?" I could tell just from his tone that he had to pull his attention away from the screen. He had pilot disease just as badly as I did, after all. Plus I imagined he liked seeing the last of us getting his ass kicked.

"Why aren't you and Wing out there doing the honors?"

"I was busy," he said. "Zechs was already en route."

"Busy setting me up," I said, snorting and looking back at the screen. Wufei was trying to disengage, using other OZ suits as a screen. Epyon plowed into a Virgo, knocking it into a pair of mobile dolls; the last of these exploded, but Epyon didn't slow down. He was forced to swerve around the wreckage, however, and Wufei used the opportunity to put enough room between the two of them for lift off.

"I didn't set you up," he said as we watched together. If I remembered right, Epyon had a so-called bird mode, like Wing had. Zechs could catch Wufei without much effort.

"Yeah, you just have godlike timing."

Zechs moved after Wufei.

"Yes."

I wanted to hurt him. It was the kind of impulse to violence that good, decent people aren't supposed to feel. Smugness does to that to me.

Smugness, and Heero.

The tiny smirk on his face was indecent in itself. It wasn't much, but it said all sorts of things about how pleased with himself he was.

It occurred to me that he'd stolen from me, betrayed me, and set me up, but he hadn't actually ever lied to me. I wondered if that still held true, and if it mattered.

There was a kind of convulsive sigh throughout the room, and I looked back at the screen to see that Zechs had stopped. The view screen split into pieces, showing Wufei's retreat, the damaged base, and Epyon, now motionless on the battlefield. A further split showed the palace, presumably somewhere above us; one wing was in ruins. The garden Treize and I had eaten breakfast in had been erased.

I guess Wufei had been outraged by the whole kiss thing. Probably not as much as I was, but he had the Gundam to express himself with, after all. Sure, I'd managed to hit Heero a couple of times, but if I'd had several tons of hardware around me, the whole fucking palace would've been a gigantic hole in the ground now, right down to the comfy couches and the smirking bastard.

Who ran his hand along my leg and then stood up as Treize entered the room. Every person in the room stood up and made some gesture of respect, except for those at work. I mean true respect, too. He was an inspiring bastard, I have to give him that. Not that I stood up for him, you understand. It's just that I could see why people who didn't know any better would be impressed with him. The whole room reacted to his presence; you could see it in the way that already straight spines stiffened all around.

Heero bowed, and from where I sat, I could see his face. For a moment, just a fraction too long, his eyes drifted shut. His bow seemed like a reverence in the truest sense of the word.

It made me sick.

"Colonel Yuy," Treize said with a smile, returning a smaller and very proper bow. "I see you were successful."

That meant me, obviously, and I bared my teeth at both of them as they glanced at me.

"Yes, sir."

"This is an unfortunate business," Treize said, nodding towards the screen. Epyon was returning to the base. Lesser mecha scattered around it as it went, and emergency vehicles streamed towards the wreckage. "Have we determined the source?"

"Nothing yet, sir," Heero said.

"Then we'll have to continue. In the meantime... Has Zechs contacted you?"

"No, sir."

I watched them talk to each other and felt dizzy. It was so wrong. Even worse than Heero in that uniform.

He had been the best of us, you know? Well, not the best pilot. That would have been me, thank you very much. The best all-around soldier, though, and probably the one most devoted to the cause. Now he was one of Treize's men. You could see how it went all the way through him, in the way he stood, the way his eyes shone. Whatever Treize had done to him, Heero repaid it with something like adoration.

"He showed more restraint than I expected, considering the casualties among his personal staff," Treize said, and my ears perked up.

"Sir?" Heero scowled, looking from Treize to me and back again.

I sat forward, hoping I was hearing this wrong.

"Ah. You haven't been told, then," Treize said, and I swear to God that was pity in his voice. "A planning meeting was in progress at the aeronautics lab when Mr. Chang arrived. I don't have all the reports, however -"

I cut him off. "Where's Quatre?"

My voice seemed unnaturally loud even in that large space. I felt eyes shift to watch us, but I didn't fucking care. All of Treize's attention focused on me suddenly, like a roving searchlight, and I knew what his answer was going to be well before he gave it.

If he'd been sympathetic, or smug, or maybe even just overly polite, I would've launched myself at him, Heero or no Heero. He didn't. He just looked tired, and the grimace that came with his words added a subtext of bitterness and irony I hadn't really expected.

"Officer Winner," Treize said, "is missing, and presumed dead."

Shinigami laughed.

~tbc~