Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Princes and Soldiers Series ❯ Duty Calls ( Chapter 18 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Kracken

Disclaimer:I don't own them or this and I don't make any money off of it.
Warnings:Male/male sex, graphic, violence, language

Princes and Soldiers Series
Sequel to Worse case Scenarios

Duty Calls

"Blind side," Heero said as they came to where the doors were. He pointed to the left. Milliardo nodded. That view was blocked by a door and the girl standing outside of it. Unless the dissidents wanted to risk themselves, they couldn't move out far enough to see them.

"Surveillance?" Milliardo wondered. It was possible that there were monitors.

Heero shrugged and Milliardo nodded grimly. It didn't matter, he thought, whether they were seen or not. They were still going to attempt their rescue.

Heero pointed to Milliardo. "Cover fire."

Milliardo began to argue and then didn't and nodded his agreement. He was larger than the ex-pilot of Wing beside him, but Heero was better trained and stronger. If it came to carrying the girl and getting away in time, Heero was the logical choice. Milliardo knew that his role wasn't much safer. He was going to have to move out of hiding and fire as close to the girl as he could to keep the men off balance and undercover.

"Three minutes," Milliardo warned Heero. Three minutes until the weapon was fired.

"Understood," Heero replied grimly.

Milliardo sized up the impossible situation one more time, braced his nerve, and then ordered, "Go!"

It was like a dance, everything seeming to slow down; fluid, graceful, deadly. Milliardo fired his gun and saw the bullets whiz by so close to the girl's face that some of her hair whipped back. She flinched sideways, especially when men began screaming and fire was returned. That movement to the side was the perfect opportunity that Milliardo needed. Whoever had their hands on her was suddenly gone in a spray of blood as Milliardo concentrated his fire on him.

Heero was already sprinting across the small clearing. He was fast, agile, and his body easily cleared underbrush and the few pieces of equipment in his way to reach the girl's side. He grabbed her and didn't wait to see if she could follow him on her own. Putting her in a fireman's carry, Heero immediately sprinted back for the forest as if her weight was inconsequential. Two men leaned out of the hanger door, daring, faces twisted in hate and anger, and began firing after him. Milliardo saw bullets send bits of tree trunk flying all around Heero's head before Milliardo's return fire took the men out.

Milliardo didn't wait to see Heero make it to the safety of the trees. He never doubted that the man would make it. His own safety was in doubt, though, as the last minute ticked off of Milliardo's watch and the alarm went off. Running for the forest, he heard the weapon powering up loudly. He had given orders for the weapon to be fired no matter what and all that Milliardo could do now was to bug out and hope for the best.

Milliardo felt a bullet slice past his shoulder and he flinched and grabbed at the wound as he staggered and lost his balance. He went sprawling into the dirt and bullets splattered all around him. Instinctively, he covered his head.

Milliardo heard the clang of the hanger doors running over their tracks as they opened completely. Rolling to his feet, Milliardo looked back. He wasn't being fired at any longer. Instead, the men, probably hearing the big gun as well, were playing their trump card. They were going to attack with a mobile suit. The hair on the back of Milliardo's neck stood up as the thing, a dull gray and tan model with a pair of beam rifles, came lumbering out, shaking the ground with every step.

Milliardo knew that it was useless as soon as he began running again. The M.S. was already leveling a rifle at his back. It would get his shot off long before the weapon fired. Milliardo couldn't help looking back and then stopped in the shelter of some large trees. The M.S. was moving awkwardly, the arm with the rifle lowering and rising as some inexperienced person tried to make it work. Milliardo found himself grinning. Whoever was inside it, had little or no experience.

A sudden blast threw Milliardo backwards and he felt shrapnel rip into his chest, neck, and already abused arm. He landed on his ass, dazed, a large part of an M.S. hand lying in smoking, hot ruin next to his head. It was more than a second before his mind realized that the big weapon hadn't fired. Pieces of M.S. all around him were the product of an explosion, not the beam cannon his men had been about to use on the hanger.

"Duo!" Milliardo gasped, knowing that man's handiwork instantly.

Another explosion rocked the inside of the hanger and men began pouring out in frantic haste. Milliardo's cell beeped. He whipped it out and shouted, "Why haven't you fired the weapon?"

"Malfunction, sir," his man on the other end reported. "Orders?"

"Move in! Group B , left flank, group D, point, and group C, right flank. Advance on targets, not hanger. I repeat, do not enter hanger. More explosions are probably imminent."

"Yes, sir."

There was another explosion and the ground bucked, the hanger walls resounding with the force. More men ran out, screaming, and some of them were on fire.

"Permission to extract Duo!" Heero shouted as he raced by Milliardo.

Milliardo didn't have time to wonder what the man would have done if he had said, no. He replied, "Permission granted!" and ran after Heero, intent on the same goal, but he threw at the man's retreating back, "Disable mobile suits at all costs: top priority!"

"Acknowledged!" Heero shouted back at him.

Music began blaring suddenly as they slowed and cautiously slipped into the hanger. The rhythm of a dark rock song washed over them. 'Someone's gonna die, d-d-d-die!' The lyrics pulsed with the frantic drum beat. Milliardo glanced at Heero and was startled to see him grinning with almost manic glee.

"Duo," Heero said simply.

Smoke was billowing and fire was licking at the blast points. They seemed random until Milliardo saw tables, chairs, scattered weapons, and corpses. Someone had destroyed the firepower and a number of the enemy very effectively.

"You son of a bitch!" A voice shouted furiously. Shots rang out. "You blow that and we'll all die, including you! What are you, crazy?!"

"Hey, man! You're the one shooting at a guy setting an explosive charge!" Duo's voice called back raggedly. "These suits are going down and nothing's going to stop me!"

The music was coming from a high scaffolding along the side of one of the M.S. A man was standing a level beneath that point, looking furious and pointing a gun upwards with both hands. He fired his gun again and wood from the upper platform flew as bullets peppered it.

"Missed me!" Duo called out in a gleeful singsong voice. "No wonder you guys are losing! You're crappy strategists and even crappier shots!"

"Hold it right there!" Milliardo shouted as he and Heero pounded up to the platform and trained their guns at the man. The man looked down in defeat and then his expression firmed. Milliardo wasn't surprised when he leveled his gun at them. The man was committing suicide, unwilling to live with failure.

"Duo!" Heero shouted even as Milliardo and the man fired their weapons at the same time. "Area secured!"

"Too late, buddy!" Duo called back regretfully. "Three minutes, mark! Bug out now!"

The man jerked and shuddered as he was filled with bullets. He fell backwards and took the long fall to the concrete floor of the hanger. Milliardo and Heero flinched as several bullets passed by them closely, but none hit their targets as they both shouldered their weapons and began climbing the scaffolding.

"Duo!" Milliardo shouted, refusing to let his wounded arm slow him. "Status?"

"I told you to bug out!" Duo almost screamed it. "They caught me and managed to beat me up some before I got away. I'm wounded, down for good! You don't have time for extraction! Get the hell out!"

"Heero!" Milliardo shouted, wanting with all that was in him to reach Duo and save him, but knowing that the man beside him was far more capable. "Extract Duo, now!"

Heero nodded grimly and shot forward, his muscles bunching and flexing noticeably as he pushed them to their limit and climbed the scaffolding with incredible speed. Milliardo continued to climb, knowing that Heero might need help, but feeling helpless in the face of Heero's super human abilities. He couldn't help the awe that he felt and wondered, not for the first time, just who and what Heero was. A normal man couldn't have made it to the top of the platform as quickly as Heero did, or slung a wounded man, however slight, onto his shoulders and climbed down again. Heero did it all easily.

Duo clung to Heero, cursing him profusely and so foully that Milliardo blinked in shock. His hair was half out of his braid and a very large bruise was coloring one side of his face. His lips were bleeding and Milliardo could see a large, dark stain on his side. Blood dripped down from that wound in steady droplets.

"Duo!' Milliardo exclaimed in fear and shock, realizing that Duo was bleeding to death and that they couldn't halt and stop it. They needed to get down and get him to a medic as quickly as possible. Milliardo longed to help accomplish that, but all he could do was climb down with Heero, ready to offer a steadying hand if Duo lost his balance on he precarious perch.

Heero didn't need his help, though. The young man was climbing down quickly, Duo balancing as securely as a cat across his shoulders and managing not to move despite his continuous verbal assault and his injured condition. Through it all, music was still playing, throbbing through the air. It was coming from Duo's hip, a player of some sort.

"Music. Off!" Heero snapped, his only reply to Duo's tirade.

Duo reached down and slapped the off button without argument and the crackling of the fire came loudly to them then. Smoke was choking them and visibility was quickly fading.

"Milliardo, Sir!" A voice called from below and Milliardo knew that his men were in the building and that the dissidents had been defeated.

"Retreat!" Milliardo shouted instantly. "There's a bomb!"

He heard barked orders and there was no one to greet him when his feet touched the concrete floor. Heero was down shortly after and he didn't acknowledge Milliardo's offer of help, but began a steady trot towards the hanger doors.

Duo looked over at Milliardo and grinned uneasily as he bounced on Heero's shoulders. The grin looked manic though and Milliardo could see that Duo was frightened, not for himself, but for Milliardo. Duo reached out a bloody, grimy hand and Milliardo touched it briefly without breaking stride. It was all the closeness that they could manage in that situation.

"You two are fricken' idiots, if you don't mind me saying so, sir!" Duo growled, but his heart was in his eyes, taking the sting out of it.

Milliardo smiled and he would have laughed if he wasn't so afraid that it would sound hysterical. "For you, yes, Heero and I are idiots!" he replied.

"And you try and blow us up for our trouble!" Heero snorted, managing to express grim amusement even as he ran under Duo's weight.

Duo blinked at them both and then he laughed and it was... Milliardo tried to understand it. The laugh sounded amused, happy, surprised, but all wrapped up with an intensity that made the hairs on Milliardo's neck stand up. It came to him then, that Duo didn't think that they were going to make it.

"Move faster!" Milliardo shouted.

"No, damn time!," Duo lamented and then looked back at Milliardo as they cleared the hanger doors. "I love you, ya know?" and then put his face next to Heero's as he jolted on the man's shoulders, "and you're the best damned friend anyone could ever have."

"Shut up, baka!" Heero panted back angrily. "Your talking is making wind resistance!"

"Hah!" Duo snorted. "A joke from Heero Yuy in my last moments!"

And then the blast hit their backs and Milliardo realized that Duo was right, they weren't going to make it. As he felt pain rifle over his back, and he was thrown into the dirt, he sourly wondered at himself for doubting a bomb expert and hoping that, for once, Duo was wrong.
____________

Milliardo did something that he never thought that he would do again, he opened his eyes. They were sore, and dry, and the light bothered them. He blinked and tried to focus. White predominated everything and then a face came into his view. A light was shone in his eyes. THAT was not what he needed just then. He squinted and turned his face away.

"He's coming around," a male voice said. "Contusions on his back. Shrapnel, but nothing in vital areas. He'll survive. I would really like to know why one of the Preventer's premier commanders was pulling a stunt like that in the field. I'm sure there will be questions. I should copy my medical report in quadruplicate. The officers will all want their own copy."

A female voice wondered, "Is quadruplicate a word, Dr.?"

"When it comes to bureaucratic paperwork, it is," the Dr. replied. Milliardo felt the cold touch of hands feeling along a very sore place on his arm. "Plasti-seal is working nicely." The face leaned into his view again. "Are you alert, sir? Can you understand me?"

Milliardo nodded shakily and then asked the first thing on his mind. "Agents... Yuy.... Maxwell..." His mouth was as dry as a bone and his vocal chords didn't want to function.

"Both alive," the doctor assured him and Milliardo felt a relief so sharp that it was painful. "Maxwell has a knife wound along his side, but it's a cut across his ribcage and not into his lung. He received a transfusion due to blood loss, and he seems to have taken a beating on his upper body. His collar bone is cracked and his right shoulder had to be placed back into its socket. He has a welding torch burn on his neck, cuts to his hands, a broken index finger on his left hand, and minor shrapnel wounds all over his back. He is awake, now, and making loud demands for his release."

"Yuy?" Milliardo prompted.

"He has the lightest injuries," the doctor informed him, "but he is unconscious as of yet, due to a concussion and severe physical distress. I've seen it before when someone pushes themselves to the limit. All of their reserves are depleted and they simply collapse. From the way his muscles are twitching with spasm, I'll hazard an early diagnosis and tell you that he has probably strained most of the muscles in his body. He should be placed on muscle relaxants and pain medication for several days."

"Casualties?" Milliardo asked then, turning to his other major concern.

"Three," the Dr. replied and said their names and cause of death for each one.

Milliardo felt a pain at every name and then listened intently to how they had died. His mind wasn't at a hundred percent, but he thought that none of his decisions had caused those deaths and, though he was deeply saddened by them, he couldn't help a sense of relief as well.

"Get the hell out of our way!" Duo's voice snarled.

"I strongly suggest that you not interfere!" Heero's voice said closely on the heels of that and then both men came into the room, Heero in a motorized wheel chair and Duo leaning on it and using it to help him walk. Three male nurses were trailing after them along with a security guard, though the man was looking confused, probably wondering how dangerous two injured men could be.

The doctor raised an eyebrow, but seemed used to the idiocies of soldiers. "I wasn't aware that is was visiting hours, gentlemen."

"Special case," Duo quipped back and winked dangerously. "I suggest that you wait outside that door for a bit. We'll call you when we're done."

"There are laws against threatening civilians," Milliardo said roughly. Duo snagged a water bottle from a table and handed it to Milliardo. Milliardo sipped at the straw gratefully and then said, clearer, "You will cease your actions, now, and put yourselves on report."

"Yes, sir," Duo replied as he sat on the edge of Milliardo's bed wearily, "but not before I've made sure that my commander is all right." He leaned forward and kissed Milliardo softly ont he lips. There was a hint of uncertainty to it, but Milliardo returned the kiss, a little constrained and embarrassed by Heero's presence, and then looked at Duo's happy face seriously.

"Your report should make interesting reading, Agent Maxwell," Milliardo said. "I do hope that all of your actions were justified?"

"They were, but we can go over all of that later," Duo admonished him. "Doc said that you were okay, but are you, really?"

"Why would he lie?" Milliardo wondered and then relented when he saw Duo's frustration. "I feel all right. "

Duo looked relieved then and looked back at Heero. Heero looked pale, weak, but determined. "Good," Duo said, "'cuz we're making a jail break and getting out of here. Want to come along? That is, if you can move under your own power? I don't think I can help you out if you can't." His dislocated shoulder was strapped and so was his broken finger. Bandages peppered his very pale skin everywhere.

Milliardo almost argued, almost ordered them back to their beds, but something stopped him, a sense that his orders were going to be ignored. He could have become angry about that, called for security, and forced them to comply for their own good, but, instead, he thought of the long days he himself would be confined to the hospital until doctors deemed him well enough to leave. He thought of bland hospital food, uncomfortable beds, and invasive routines. Milliardo felt a wash of rebellion flow through him, an urge to cast away all restraint and join those mad men. Something stopped him before he could utter an agreement, though, a sense of duty and what was proper grinding that rebellion to a halt.

Duo saw it and he smiled down into Milliardo's eyes and said, "That's okay, Mil. Don't be sorry for having common sense and going by the book. That's what makes you what you are, the guy I love, okay? Don't think you have to be any different."

Milliardo touched Duo's cheek, stroked it, and replied, "I don't think that and I'm not sorry for following the rules. You and Heero are on report, love of mine."

Duo sighed and rolled his eyes as if he were a disappointed child, but the smile hadn't left his lips. "That's two reports on us, Heero. We're going to have to come up with some fancy explanations to clear our good names."

"Why do I imagine that you will?" Milliardo replied sourly.

"See, Heero?" Duo chuckled. "He has faith in us."

Milliardo gripped Duo's arm suddenly, all amusement fading. "Duo, I...." He thought about almost losing him and it made his heart constrict painfully. Duo leaned close and looked into Milliardo's eyes, his amusement fading as well.

"It's all right, love," Duo said fiercely and leaned forward to press his face against Milliardo's, kissing him several times. "We made it. We're all safe. If you want... maybe I should stay here with you?"

Milliardo didn't misunderstand how difficult the offer was for Duo. Duo was willing to stay in a place that he feared and hated, among strangers that he didn't trust, for him. Duo's aversion to hospitals and doctors, born after that attack long ago, after being reluctantly treated by uncaring doctors who had wanted him dead, was well know to Milliardo. That Duo offered, told him how deeply Duo cared for him.

Heero sounded like the soldier he was as he offered, as if they were in enemy territory, "I will stay and guard the both of you, if Duo remains."

The offer was ridiculous. Milliardo could see that Heero was almost done in by simply sitting in his wheelchair. It made him consider the man, consider the relationship that Heero had with Duo; something that he hadn't wanted to face. This man wasn't going to go away because he, Milliardo, was having a relationship now with Duo, and, Milliardo discovered, he didn't really want Heero to go away. They had bonded on that mission, found common ground, and had worked together to save the person that they both loved. If they could do that, if they could trust their lives to each other, and trust each other to save Duo's life, then couldn't they also trust each other enough to share Duo's affections? Those affections were different, after all. Heero was Duo's friend and Milliardo was Duo's lover. As Duo had said several times, Heero and Milliardo were not competing with each other. What he wanted to give each of them was completely different.

"What are you thinking about so hard?" Duo wondered, amused, but a little worried too by Milliardo's silence.

"That you don't have to stay," Milliardo replied thoughtfully, "and..."

"And?" Duo prompted.

"That I need to look into buying a house with a set of separate living quarters," Milliardo finished.

Duo looked confused now, as if he wondered if Milliardo were hallucinating and whether he needing to call his doctor or not. "Why....?"

"You wouldn't want Heero to sleep on the couch when you move in with me, would you?" Milliardo replied, faking crossness. He covered up his embarrassed and fear of rejection by trying to get comfortable on the hard mattress of the bed and allowing his real pain and weariness to show.

"I am capable of living on my own," Heero spoke up surprisingly. "Your offer is generous, but not necessary, sir." It was very obvious that what he was saying was not what he wanted. Heero's voice was strained, as if he were forcing himself to say the words.

Duo said, and Milliardo could hear his fear, the fear that came from numerous rejections due to his closeness with Heero, "I know it's strange, and that it's hard to understand, but, I need Heero with me. He's my friend. I know he feels the same way."

"I understand," Milliardo replied and took Duo's good hand in his, ceasing trying to cover up his emotions so that he could reassure Duo. "There isn't anyone else like us. We are all Gundam pilots. We all came through a terrible war. No one will ever understand us as we understand each other. You and Heero came together under intense circumstances and you learned to depend on each other. I'm not going to force you to do other wise now. You accept me for the way that I am, I will not do any less when it comes to you, Duo." He smiled. "Besides, I grew up in a house filled with servants, guards, and aristocracy. After that, I spent time exclusively in the company of soldiers and the barracks. Why living with one man, beside the one that I care about, disturb me?"

Duo thought about that and then visibly relaxed and looked so happy that his eyes seemed to glow. Milliardo thought that he would have agreed to live with a thousand men just to keep that expression on Duo's face.

Milliardo looked past Duo to Heero. "If you are going to your home to recover, I leave Duo's welfare in your hands, Yuy, and I trust, that if he becomes worse, instead of better, that you will return to the hospital."

"Yes, sir," Heero replied promptly.

"Mil," Mil corrected him and Heero blinked. "If you're going to be living with me, you need to learn to be less formal."

"Yes, si- Mil," Heero corrected himself and a small smile played on his lips. "Thank you."

Milliardo was going to reply, but his lips were suddenly covered by Duo's and Duo was kissing him deeply, unmindful of his injured lips. Duo was smiling, that happy glow even more intense. "Jeez, I love you!" Duo exclaimed around the kiss. "You just seem too damned good to be true!"

Milliardo felt a powerful emotion take hold of him. He slid arms around Duo, careful of his injuries, and Duo pressed against him in a masculine, one armed hug. "You snuck into my soul, Duo, " Milliardo whispered lovingly into his ear, "When I was least expecting it. I was slow understanding my feelings. You were the last person that I expected to fall in love with."

"Thought you'd go for some stuffy politician's son, right?" Duo chuckled against his throat. "Tea at twelve, the formal dinner party at six, and all that? If you ask me, that sort of things sounds a lot more unlikely for someone like you. You just didn't know yourself. I had to come along and shake you out of your cobwebs."

"When I thought we were dead, when those bombs exploded..." Milliardo swallowed hard. "I used more colorful language than you did to myself for dragging my feet for so long about this." He smoothed a hand over Duo's hair, over his cheek, and then curled it around Duo's hand. "I'm not going to risk having to regret again. I'm not going to drag my feet any more. I want you with me, at my side, Duo Maxwell, every part of you, even though I know one of those parts is Heero Yuy. We proved that we can be a team, that we are even somewhat alike in what we want and our methods." Milliardo looked past Duo and smiled as Heero nodded gravely. "I know that I can accept him into our life together."

Duo snickered and sat up, looking at Milliardo mischievously, but his heart was in his eyes when he said, "Heero does have a life, ya know, Mil? He's not like my Siamese twin, or anything. I've spent time getting him out of that military shell and into normal life. Because of me, he attends clubs, talks to people, does needlepoint..."

"Needlepoint?" Milliardo echoed, confused.

Duo laughed, "Just kidding!"

"That's not very funny," Heero grumbled and then said, "What he's trying to say, is that I'm not going to be sleeping at your feet, Mil, or guarding your door twenty four-seven, but there is something that Duo and I have found in each other, a friendship and an understanding that we never want to lose. We trust each other implicitly. I don't think we could ever find that with someone else. Being apart for long is not something that I wish to contemplate."

"Me either," Duo said seriously, never taking his eyes from Milliardo.

Milliardo knew what Duo wanted. He wanted to be certain that Milliardo wasn't accepting a bad deal simply to have him. Milliardo squeezed Duo's hand and said, with all the feeling he felt for Duo in his voice, "When princes fall in love with soldiers, than what does the rest of conventionality matter?"

Milliardo had only thought that Duo glowed before. Now, Duo was blazing like the sun, his eyes dancing with love and delight. When his lips seized Milliardo's and Duo kissed him as if he wanted to pull Milliardo into his soul, Milliardo knew that he would never regret his decision.


The end.