Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Jesus of Suburbia ❯ City of the Damned ( Chapter 2 )

I apologise for Duo's accent, and the accent of the street kids. I can't seem to keep it straight in my head which letters they drop…*sighs* Forgive me?

 

******Dream******

 

“C'mon, kid, the 7/11's not far now.”

“But, Solo, why d'we havta go there? What's wrong with the market?”

“Kid, I'm tryin' t'teach ya sumthin' `ere. Quiet, now, we're getting' close.”

The two scruffy street-rats crept quietly into the small carpark by the store and hid behind a Dumpster. Duo leaned against the graffiti covered wall while Solo scanned the area. It was about 4am, so he didn't think anyone would be about, but Solo was always cautious. And it paid off.

“Ok, kid. `S time.”

“What are ya teachin' me, Solo?”

“How to fight.”

“Fight?”

“Yeah. I'm not havin' my little bro not able t'defend `imself. Copy?”

“I copy.”

“Now. If a guy bigger `n ya grabs ya, allways go fer da groin, gottit?”

The lesson continued, the older boy teaching the younger all the dirtiest tricks he knew. They scuffled around the parking lot, scraping knees and elbows on the rough tarmac. Solo had a grin on his face as his `little brother' started laying some good punches on him.

“Ok, kid, that's enough fer now. Lets get back to the den, k?”

“Thanks fer the lesson.”

“Anytime, kiddo. C'mon.”

But Duo had paused, looking into the window of the store. “Hey, Solo, what's that say?” he asked, pointing at a small wooden plaque.

Solo paused, turned, and walked up to the window, peering through the grimy glass. “Um… home…. Is…. Where da…. Heart is. `Ome is where da `eart is. S'what it says.”

“What's that mean?”

“I dunno, kid. C'mon, they'll be switchin' on the lights soon,” Solo said, starting off down the street. Duo scampered after him.

“Solo?”

“Yes?”

“Tell me `bout the time yer broke into the control room, willya?”

“Ok. `Twas a few years back…”

 

******End Dream******

 

Duo woke with a gasp. As he looked around his bedroom, he felt a grin spread across his face. No nightmares, for the first time in ages! Looked like his subconscious mind had relaxed some after finding the cross. Now, if only the effect lasted long enough for him to catch up on sleep…

Maybe he would go down to the beach today, seeing as today looked to be a day for remembering. Beaches always made him think of Heero. The shock he had felt when the other boy didn't open his parachute and almost fell to his death.

Heero… if Home is where the Heart is, then they would never be together, because everyone had a different heartbeat, and he had a suspicion that his and Heero's were beating out of time. How could they not be? They were such different people.

Home… this apartment had begun to feel like home, before the nightmares had begun to destroy it all. It was still in fairly good shape - he wasn't at the point where he drank all day just yet. He had settled in; there was some food in the fridge and cupboards, a few DVD's on top of the TV and clothes hanging in the wardrobe. CDs lay scattered around a large CD player in a corner of the living room and the curtains hung in the windows. The place looked lived in. He'd even bought matching plates. But there was something that stopped it from becoming home.

The last place he had called home was Deathscythe's cockpit. The home before that would have been the gang hideout. Duo smiled sadly to himself, remembering the dark streets, criss-crossed with shadows and the signposts that lead to no-where; street kids liked to confuse the visitors. Of course, not all of L2 was like that. Just the areas under the old raised highways, the ones that had been abandoned after the tenth car had spun over, crushing civilian houses. The ones where the strongest gangs ruled, and everything was divided into clear territories, marked by spray-painted symbols.

His old gang's had been a scythe. That was why he had designed a thermal energy scythe for his Gundam, and called it Deathscythe. G had allowed him his fancy, after all, the scythe was a good weapon and Duo had the feeling that the old man had always intended him to pilot the huge Gundam.

 

Shaking his head to clear the memories, Duo quickly showered and dressed before heading out in his car to the drive through Starbucks, and then to the supermarket.

Once all the groceries were safely packed away, he jumped back behind the wheel and headed for the main city, more specifically, the warehouse district along the waterfront. He wanted to remember Heero alone, without a lot of military soldiers aiming at him and pulling up old memories. (AN: Seattle became a military port, remember?)

 

It was peaceful, wandering among the old warehouses to the background murmur of the sea. But shouts and the sound of a scuffle soon broke the mood and sent him running in the direction of the commotion. He headed down towards the waterfront, and soon saw the source; one gang of boys had cornered another gang. A little girl with long, matted red hair was sobbing against the door of a small square building, and in front of her stood four older boys, while a fifth knelt at her side, trying to comfort her. A second glance confirmed one of the boys guarding the pair to be a girl, with short brown hair.

Facing the group were five older boys, close to Duos age. They were much better dressed and looked better fed than the defending group. Making a split second decision based on the ages and females present, Duo took a running leap and landed in the small space between the gangs, breathing lightly and grinning his Shinigami grin.

“Ok, what's goin' down?” he asked, slipping unconsciously back into his L2 accent, something he had partly dropped since coming to Earth.

“They're tryin' to take our base!” the girl with short brown hair told him.

“Your base? Not likely. It's gonna be ours before evenin',” a tall, pale skinned teenager with greasy black hair and facial piercings growled.

“Hn. I don't think so!” Duo had heard enough. He dropped the guy with a snap kick to the face, twirling into a spin and dropping the one on the left. A short time later, all five had scrambled away, muttering curses and insults at the braided ex-pilot.

Duo turned to the six kids behind him. They were looking at him warily, obviously wondering what he was going to do next. “Um… hey,” he said, feeling uncomfortable. “I `ope they won't bug ya again. Is t'little one alright?”

“She's fine, mister. Thanks,” the boy who had been crouching beside the girl said guardedly.

“So… um, this is your base?”

“Yeah. What's it to you?” one of the older boys asked.

Duo sighed. “Look, kid, I'm not gonna tryta take it from ya. I just… I useta be in a gang, back on L2. So I know what its like… hell, you've prob'ly got it better. An'… if ya need some help, `m willin'. K?”

“How come you're down here?”

“Came down on a Gundam.”

Immediately six sets of wide eyes fastened on him. “Y'never!” the older girl breathed.

Duo looked offended. “Hey! I may run, I may hide, but I never tell a lie! And I was a pilot. 02.”

“The black one,” one kid informed the others. “With the big scythe.”

“Yeah, that was Deathscythe. Anyways… I am, or was, the stealth expert. So I can help ya fix up ya den, if ya want.”

“Want? O'course we do! No one'll mess with us if you're around ta help us out!” the older girl reasoned.

Smiling, Duo nodded and followed them into the abandoned building. Inside it was pretty cobwebby, but the floor has been swept clean. The building itself seemed pretty sound, and there were no noticeable holes in the roof. From what he could see as they led him around, there were four rooms, one large one that stretched the entire height and two thirds the length of the structure, two cubby holes at the back and finally, over the two back rooms, an attic without a clear entrance aside from a large hole in the floor of one of the smaller rooms.

“Nice place,” He commented. There had been some blankets piled in a corner of one of the smaller rooms, and a crate covered in an old groundsheet, which he suspected contained food. “But you're doin' a crappy job of defendin' it. See, this place is a good'n. `N' ya wanna keep it. I c'n `elp ya set up some defences, if ya want.”

“Ok, mister Gundam Pilot.”

“Duo. Call me Duo.”

 

Duo spent a pleasant morning with the gang, helping them fortify their base. He showed the boys how to set up tripwires across the large room with some fishing wire one of the boys had nicked from the docks. After hoisting himself up to the attic - a feat none of the kids would be able to do - he discovered that it was sound enough, and, best of all, had a coil of rope stashed in one corner. Quickly, he tied large knots in it at regular intervals and fixed it to a stout beam. Grinning widely, he dropped his creation down the hole and swarmed down it.

“Ok, guys. Any base needs a hidey-hole, and I think this loft is the best place so far. I'll see about fixin' up an outside escape route. But next time I come, which will be either t'morrow or the day after, I wanna see all'o ya swarming up `n' down that rope. Kay? Little `uns too.”

“Ok, mister Duo. Thanks.”

“No problem, kids. Told ya, I know what it's like. I also know that ya won't accept charity, so `m not gonna offer it. I'll `elp ya to make yer own way, gottit?”

“Ok”

“Just promise me one thing.”

“What's that, mister Duo?”

“Never start dependin' on me. `Cos one day, somethin' might `appen, an' I might not come back. `twon't `appen voluntarily, but a lotta people got it in for us Gundam Pilots. So don't start dependin' on me, cos each time ya see me, `t might be the last.”

“Ok, mister Duo.”

“See ya, kids. Stay safe.”

 

On his way back home, Duo stopped off at Alderwood shopping mall. He hadn't really bought any clothes or books since, well, ever, and all the momento's he had at the moment were the photos of the other pilots over the fireplace.

Time for that to change. He had an entire wardrobe to fill with clothes, and his secondary bank account would probably stretch to something…

Hot Topic yielded some new baggy jeans and some black t-shirts he thought would fit. He'd been going around in workout clothes and some stuff he'd got with Quatre in Sanq when they both came to the realisation that all they had to wear was the clothes they stood up in. High up on the wall, a black baseball cap caught his eye, silver flames flickering up the brim. Grinning, he got the assistant to hook it down for him. He'd lost his old cap in the battle, but it had been falling to pieces anyway. Pity though, it had been a good momento of Heero.

Setting the cap on his head, he walked out of the store and towards the food court, feeling hungry. There was a lot of choice, but he settled with the age old pizza slice with a glass of coke. Once he was done with his meal, he took a quick detour to the bathrooms before heading back out to the carpark.

Once inside, he found himself reading the graffiti on the walls and remembering how Solo used to use the sprayed words to teach them to read…

“The centre of the earth is the end of the world?” He muttered to himself, reading a line scrawled in gold marker pen. “Huh. Well, even if it is, I don't care,” he whispered sadly as he left the mall, black shopping bags hung over one arm by their red cord handles.