Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Psychotic America ❯ You Do If You Knew ( Chapter 8 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Manga-Chick 
Quatre has some thoughts of his own...
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Hentai / Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.20.2005 | Pages: 3 | Words: 7.8K | Visits: 341 | Status: Completed
Quatre has some thoughts of his own...
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Hentai / Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.20.2005 | Pages: 3 | Words: 7.8K | Visits: 341 | Status: Completed
Alternate Universe, fusion, out of character charas, very disturbing information and scenes and Pairings: 1x4, 2x5 3(?)
Standard Disclaimers Apply: Don’t own Gundam Wing nor X-Men
Notes: Some stuff was changed around, here. I deleted some stuff, added some stuff, so it’s still the long winded, pompous bag that ya’ll are familiar with–just with some differences.
O0o0o0o0o0oO means scene change
Chapter Eight:
You Do If You Knew
He wrinkled his nose as the smell of Pledge assaulted him with its lemony goodness. The dirty rag he carried was lightly dusted from the various areas he’d cleaned, and he wasn’t ready to stop now. The house was strangely silent, with the two women gone and the other boys asleep. Quatre peered up at the ceiling, listening for any telltale signs that anyone was up and awake. It was nearly three in the afternoon, and he felt truly bored, despite attacking the house with the need to clean. He hadn’t bothered using any of the more noisy appliances, and had stuck to sweeping, mopping, wiping and frantic rubbing.
While he cleaned, he kept thinking about his situation with Heero–physical attraction was obvious. He couldn’t help but quiver with need whenever he was within the Japanese’s presence. But what was it that had him so in lust with the boy?
Quatre knew he wasn’t the most powerful mutant, or even the most physically dominant in any manner. He heard all the snickers and comments on his frame, and on his looks. He knew what he looked like–and there were going to be people who either disagreed or fully hated it. But he couldn’t help it. Nothing he could do would ever turn him manly like Heero, or physically athletic like Wufei, or even attractive like Duo.
He was always going to have eyelashes that were too light for his eyes, and he was always going to look washed-out and pale because of his coloring. He couldn’t help that.
He didn’t know what made Heero attracted to him.
But would physical attraction ever turn into something more?
Pausing to survey his damage done on the mess, he turned away from the entertainment center and walked out from the living room to put the Pledge and other things away.
He didn’t think he could ever come to love the guy–their personalities were much too different. He was fairly confident Heero felt the same way–given indication be that ‘report’ he’d given to Dr J. There wasn’t an inkling of feeling the Japanese had for him, and while he’d been hurt at first, he’d come to accept that their attraction was based on similar lust.
He didn’t believe in love. There hadn’t been a reason to.
There was a creak and a slam upstairs, suggesting that someone was using the bathroom, and he wondered who it was as he began on the various cupboards that held nothing but thrown in knick-knacks. By the time he’d finished straightening out the junk drawer and re-arranged the trash bag and potato cupboard, it was nearly a half hour since he’d looked at the clock. Sighing, he picked himself up from the floor and swept up the dirt that remained from the potato bag.
With nothing more to do, he wandered into the living room, collapsing on the couch. Sighing heavily once more, he stared at the blank tv screen and wondered about his assignment. He hadn’t done any of the needed hours to make his...well, instructor(?) happy, and he really didn’t want to mess with people’s emotions.
It just wasn’t right. It was just the same as forcing someone against his/her will, and he wasn’t that sort of person. He groaned into his throw pillow, then sat up. Since he didn’t want to mess with the emotions of the people living here, he figured that if he went somewhere to do so, he would draw in the recommended hours that would work his power.
He rose from the couch, recalling the grocery store that Sally and Catherine had taken him and Duo several times during one of their grocery outings. The other three hated any such activity, and he and Duo ended up doing their chores. Which was fine with him. He’d rather work for his stay than mooch off others.
He looked down at his plain black tee and sweats, and went upstairs to change.
The other boys were still asleep; Duo snoring loudly as he laid buried within his blankets, only his braid visible; Wufei was lying on his back, drooling; Trowa was curled up, oddly, in cat form and purred as he slept; Heero had one hand curled underneath his cheek and looked irritated even in sleep. Quatre quietly walked over to his dresser, withdrawing a pair of jeans, a long-sleeve thermal shirt, and a sweater that sat folded on top of his dresser.
He changed quickly, and stuffed his feet into his shoes, tying them hastily. Glancing back at the others, he saw that Trowa was awake and watching him with all the disinterest all cats did when disturbed from their sleep, so Quatre let him know that he was headed to the grocery store.
Trowa’s response was to curl into a ball, settling his tail over his face, dismissing him.
Quatre walked out from the bedroom and headed downstairs to pull a coat from the hall closet. He chose Heero’s, feeling a giddy sense of nervousness upon doing so. It smelled like him, eliciting shivers throughout his thin frame and a sense of security as he drew the heavy material over him. Grabbing a spare house key from the collection located within a matchbox in the closet, he tucked that into his pocket and walked outside. It was cold, the remaining drifts of snow blinding him momentarily as he stepped out onto the porch. With a frustrated expression at what he had to do, he began walking the twenty blocks to the grocery store.
O0o0o0o0o0oO
A woman was busily yelling at a toddler that sobbed hysterically; a set of twins were screaming at each other; the father talked with some disinterest in his cellphone. Quatre frowned as he focused on the woman first, hating the way she screamed at the hapless child. Instantly, her mean face turned into a soft expression, cooing comfort words to the wailing toddler. Holding his power on the woman, to keep her happy, he focused with some difficulty on the child, feeling a strain as he did so. The toddler quieted, babbling incoherently as she reached out to her mother’s face. Trying hard to keep his hold on the two people, he then focused on one twin, feeling his face contort to a grimace as he tried hard to keep up the action.
The little boy stopped slapping his brother and peered with some disinterest around him, completely indifferent to things around him. The strain was too much–Quatre let go of them as they neared the automatic doors, and chaos erupted once more.
Sighing, he sank low on the bench, feeling his head pound with awful pain. He looked at the darkening sky, wondering how much time had passed since he’d arrived. He took a deep breath and sat up in his seat as an older man took the other end, cradling a bag to him as he waited for a taxi. Quatre looked at the many people that wandered the filled parking lot, and focused on a harried teenager that was struggling with at least ten bags of groceries. Making her immensely happy, he had to grimace as she cheerily sang and danced her way to her car, causing others to look at her strangely.
A woman that smiled brightly as she talked to her boyfriend turned into a monstrous bitch as Quatre forced her to feel strife. The poor man looked slapped as she verbally ripped into him. An older woman who looked obviously tucked and nipped in various places turned generous as she began handing out bills randomly from her wallet. A young male that had taken his time to check out the blond on the bench turned furious as he stomped away, kicking at parking signs and decorative bushes.
Quatre began to feel mentally strained in this activity, and he adjusted himself on the bench, frowning as he focused in on another subject. This time, he was going to make the person feel...sadness. It was easy to do–he simply had to project his own feeling into another person. To see this man suddenly pause in the middle of the sidewalk, blinking rapidly as his gloved hands touched his face, made Quatre feel sad. He often wondered, when being subjected to violence, if his attackers ever felt a shred of concern or compassion for him. Did they often think back to what they had done and feel guilty?
He released his hold on the man, stuffing his hands deep within his pockets. The man glanced around, bewildered by his sudden emotions, then hurriedly walked off. His stiff frame told the blond that he’d been embarrassed.
Quatre rose from the bench and ventured into the store. Determined to escape the direction of his thoughts, he wandered the aisles, traveling up and down without a sense of direction or purpose. Passing time this way, doing mundane things, kept him from thinking, or from bruising. As he made his way toward the deli section, he became aware of eyes that lit upon his form. With a small sound of distress, he turned away from the deli section and began walking toward the front, to escape the animosity and hate that this person felt for him. He glanced over his shoulder to see an old woman glaring at him, her too bright lips thinned in a wrinkled line below her nose.
He couldn’t tell why she disliked him–all he could sense was her hostility and disgust. He turned to continue walking when he bumped into a man that had been laughing with his friends. They immediately glared at him, and he ducked his head and hurried off.
“HEY! Where the hell you goin’? No apology?” he heard the guy shout after him.
He ignored the shout and headed outside, wincing at the darkness that had fallen during his adventures inside the store. He stood on the sidewalk, and glanced from side to side. So far, he’d done some training on his abilities, but it wasn’t the amount that H would be satisfied with. He dipped his hands into his jacket pockets, and stared at the various people that were making their way in and out of the store. He played with a few others’ emotions until he realized that he wasn’t alone.
Turning his head, he looked up at the man he’d bumped into, his two friends obtusely taking up his sides. Intensely uncomfortable, his first instinct to run making his legs stiff, Quatre ducked his head and started walking forward. When he realized that they were walking with him, preventing him from walking away from him, he hesitated. Someone honked in irritation as they blocked the road, and his elbow was grasped, one of the men yanking him with them as they made their way into the parking lot.
He ripped his arm away from the man, and turned to walk away when he was shoved abruptly against someone’s vehicle.
“Fag.”
He wasn’t sure who said it, but the dripping hate coming from that word made his gut twist. He was used to such things. It wasn’t the first time someone had uttered it to hurt.
“I want my apology, faggot.”
All words left him, and he concentrated on the speaker, forcing him to feel cheer and hunger for the contents he held within his plastic bag. This small diversion left his friends with puzzled expressions as the first man declared that they hurry up and eat. One of the men frowned as he saw the concentrating look on Quatre’s face, and he hissed, “He’s a mutie!”
“Fucking freak!” the other growled, fist clenched. “Stop fuckin’ around with him!”
“C’mon, guys! Fuck this bullshit! Let’s eat!”
“I said, stop fuckin’ with him!” the second guy roared, shoving Quatre hard enough for him to fall to the pavement. A car slammed to a screeching halt, just barely avoiding hitting him. He rose to his feet, hurrying away from the scene as the driver leaned out her window and began shouting at them all. He heard the shouts of the men as he left them, dropping his concentration on the man he’d pinned.
Breaking into a run, he hurried home. Upon reaching the house, he had to step back and examine his feelings. Seeing that nearly every window was lit from the front, the curtains drawn in the lower level and drawn in the upper, the house gave a sense of comfortable security the longer he looked at it. He knew it was warm inside, smelling of spices and mixed body scents, and he knew that once he entered he’d feel safe and somewhat secure. Swallowing, his brow furrowing as he examined his feelings, he stepped onto the porch and quietly walked in.
Duo leapt up from the couch, chips flying everywhere as he stomped into the hall, slapping Quatre upside the head.
“Ow!” he protested, looking at the braided boy with a pained expression.
“Where were you?” Duo growled, reaching over to jerk the jacket off of him. “We were looking all over for you!”
“I told Trowa I went to the grocery store,” Quatre answered, slipping his arms out from the jacket that was forcefully being torn off.
“Trowa didn’t tell us anything,” Sally said as she walked out from the kitchen, where it smelled as if dinner was being prepared. “You better let someone know where you’ve gone, Quatre. That was very dangerous of you.”
“I’m sorry. I just thought that–”
“With that guy out there, Quatre, me an’ you have to be careful!” Duo continued, reaching up to pull his hair with a forceful tug.
“I’m sorry. I just told Trowa because he was awake at the time,” Quatre said, turning to Sally as she held her hands on her hips, frowning in motherly concern. “I went to the grocery store.”
“That’s over twenty blocks away, Quatre. If you need to go somewhere to practice, use the one over there,” Sally pointed. “It’s only seven blocks away.”
“I went to the only one I know.”
“Just be careful, all right? No one followed you?”
Quatre thought of the three men, but shook his head. “No. I know when people are following me.”
Sally sighed, then walked off to join her lover in the kitchen. Duo glowered at him, but with a more concerned expression than a mean one. Then he looked away, walking back into the living room, where he’d been watching a cartoon.
Noticing that they were three boys short, Quatre asked, “The others aren’t awake, yet?”
“The doctors are here. They’re talking to them in the basement,” Duo said, cramming his mouth full of chips. “Something hush-hush.”
Quatre sank down onto the love seat, taking off his shoes. “You don’t know about what?”
“Nope.” Duo tossed his head, his braid whipping about. He patted the empty space beside him, smiling hopefully. “Come sit by me.”
Quatre got up from his spot and sat next to Duo, who immediately snuggled against him, laying his head in his lap.
“Scratch my scalp. Like Sally does,” he then commanded while Quatre gave him a weary expression. Duo then hurriedly lifted his head, stuffed a throw pillow between his head and one bony thigh, then resumed his position. Cautiously, Quatre slipped his fingers through the thick mass of hair and scratched lightly to Duo’s comfort.
The boy let out a throaty purr, relaxing in the position as he stared at his cartoons. Quatre continued doing this until the door to the basement opened, and the doctors, with their loud words and ridiculous notions, emerged with the other three.
Duo shot up clumsily from his position and was out of the living room via teleportation before Quatre could withdraw his hands from his hair. Dr J walked into the living room, spying him with a scowl, but saying nothing as he gathered his coat and hat. The other doctors filed suit, H pausing near the closet and giving him a frown.
“You are practicing, are you?” he demanded, odd mustache bouncing with every movement of his upper lip.
“Yes, sir.”
“How many hours?”
Squirming uncomfortably under that gaze, Quatre answered softly.
“Only six? I told you sixty hours!”
“I–I’m sorry. I will keep trying.”
“This isn’t freeload central, you know! You’ve got to earn your keep! If this pathetic display of worthlessness continues, I’ll make sure your death is messy and drawn!”
“Oh, stop, you overbloated bag of waste,” S snorted. “You’re just about as threatening as my pet kitten.”
“You’ve got a kitten, S?” O asked, blinking repeatedly, momentarily distracted from giving his own two cents.
“Yes. She’s the particular little creature you see upon entering my apartment.”
“...S. You told me that was your granddaughter’s stuffed Barbie cat...” G said, looking at S with a disgusted expression, enraged that his associate was keeping company with said granddaughter’s toys.
“My kitten is a faithful, loyal thing. I value its worth much more than I would with one of you old bastards,” S said on a sniff.
“You’re one crazy old fart,” G snorted, shaking his head in saddened pity.
“I don’t see any pets in your place, old man!”
“Children, children. Can we please proceed?” Dr J asked on a sigh, jerking the door open and leading the way out, the others still discussing S’s particular traits.
After they’d left, Quatre sighed. He did want a warm, comfortable home. Wufei stalked into the room, moving to change the channel and noticing him there.
“Where were you?” he asked curiously, flicking the channel over to a documentary on Pearl Harbor.
“Practicing.”
“Couldn’t you stay here and practice?”
“No.”
“Why not? I’m sure controlling Trowa and Heero would be an ideal obstacle for your powers,” Wufei said on a smirk.
“I would rather not use my powers on those closest to me, Wufei.”
“You don’t have to be honorable about them, Quatre. They’re about as worthless as–”
“As what, Wufei?” Heero growled, grabbing the boy into a headlock.
Wufei struggled against the strong hold, rising from his chair to do so. Quatre figured the subject in discussion was dropped as Wufei put his hands onto Heero’s arm, and Heero suddenly let him go with a startled yelp, the smell of burnt skin filling the living room.
Alarmed, Quatre rose from the couch as Heero looked at the blackened hand prints on his muscled arm. Wufei gave him a satisfied smirk, walking away.
“What–? What happened?” Quatre asked, unsure how that had happened as he looked at Heero’s arm. Wufei’s hand prints had sliced through the skin, all the way to the gleaming white bone beneath. Burnt pieces of fat bubbled and dripped, singed muscle quivered with movement. The smell of burnt flesh was gruesomely assaulting, making the blond sick as his hands slipped up to cover his nose and mouth. Skin crackled and slipped, and Quatre was horrified at this sight, unsure of how to treat this.
“Wufei likes to show off his pyro tendencies,” Heero said gruffly, wincing with pain. He dug his fingers into the thick muscle of his forearm, and pierced the skin with his nails. His mouth dropping open as he wondered if Heero were going to strip his arm of the damaged skin, Quatre stared at him in stunned horror, reaching out to stop him from doing so.
Heero pulled at his arm harshly, the loud ‘shrpp!’ of sound tearing through the air. The sound startled Quatre, forcing him to pause as Heero lifted his hand, drawing a very thin blanket of colored skin that had the consistency of paper. Eyes shooting from the paper-thin material to a very perfect arm, Quatre wasn’t sure what to say as Heero dropped the shredded piece of whichever onto the ground, and proceeded to tear through his own skin, starting from his shoulders and ripping downward. Then he reached up, tearing at the flaps underneath his jaw and chin, drawing upwards.
Quatre just stood there in stunned horror as Heero finished ‘husking’, a bunch of shredded material lying at his feet. Duo was standing there as well, as equally as shocked as Heero flexed his arms. As good as new, Heero looked at Quatre, the blond staring at him with a terrorized expression.
“OH MY GOD!” Duo howled, hands at his face. He crouched, picking up the shredded material, noting that it had once been Heero’s back. It felt scratchy and thin, and fit over his own skin like saran wrap. He shrieked again, hopping up and down wildly as he fluttered the piece of material in the air, which stuck to him with all the consistency of a booger.
Heero snatched the shredded material from him, Quatre’s mouth working, with nothing coming out. Heero turned to him, thrusting the material at the blond.
“This is my self-healing capability,” he said huskily, forcing Quatre to hold it. He had an faintly eager expression on his face, as if he were a child trying to show off his accomplishment to a respected adult.
The blond stared at the material that was forced into his hands, which immediately fitted over his open palms. Shuddering in revulsion and disbelief, Quatre was unable to move as he stared down at the piece that coated his hands.
“I can shed my skin to heal myself.”
“THAT IS SOOOO COOL!” Duo screamed excitedly, bending to grab another piece. “I WISH I COULD DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS!!”
Seeing that it was the back of Heero’s head, he splayed that over his face, and went in search for someone to scare. At the numerous shrieks of disgust and fright from the kitchen, he found his victims in the two women, and Wufei.
“Er...interesting,” Quatre stammered, trying to dislodge the sticky material from his hands without actually moving to touch it. Heero smirked at him as he struggled, then reached over to tear the shed skin from the hapless blond’s hands.
“Gross. You did it again,” Trowa muttered in disgust, hands in his pockets as he stared down at Heero’s husking material. “I swear, that is so nasty! I hope you don’t expect your bitch to clean up after you.”
“Shut it, Trowa.”
“Heero? How...how do you get rid of it?” Quatre questioned, rubbing his palms on his jeans to somehow wipe off the feeling that remained on them.
“Throw it away. It’s garbage. It disintegrates after some time, but after awhile, it’s like old potato skin.”
“Biodegradable,” Trowa added with a serious nod.
Ew, was all Quatre thought, easing away from the mess in the hall.
Trowa shook his head and sauntered into the living room. Heero then frowned, reaching out to catch one thin wrist within his hand, stopping Quatre in mid-step as the blond turned to sit back down. It would be so easy to clench that slender appendage within his fingers, to break thin bones–which had Heero unsettled. He knew that if he didn’t keep himself careful, he could easily seriously damage the slighter mutant, and even kill him on accident.
“We’re going to the Hanger, tonight,” he said.
Holding the thin wrist within his hand, ignoring the way his blood seemed to heat with just the simple action, Heero stared at the face that stared up at his. He noted that the thin cheeks were slowly filling out, the skin color turning much more healthy, the bedraggled appearance turning much more clean.
Quatre gave him a questioning expression, frowning.
“I have to stop by Dr J’s before I get there. Go there with the others, all right? And next time, when you leave, you let someone know,” Heero added with an annoyed frown. He punctuated this with a hard squeeze of the slender wrist in his hand, making the other wince.
“I told Trowa–!”
“Trowa doesn’t care about that sort of thing. He won’t say anything to anyone. If you have to, wake me up. Is that clear?”
Quatre murmured an agreement, pulling his hand away, rubbing his wrist. Heero turned to stare after him, and out of the corner of his eye, noticed Trowa wildly making out with his hand. Figuring that smushing him with the loveseat was too much trouble, Heero made the more mature decision and ignored the gesture, walking off toward the kitchen to see what he could snag before he left.
O0o0o0o0o0oO
The darkness concealed his form as he stared at the warehouse, which he’d been informed hid an impressive array of technology and wondrous modern improvisions that Operation: Gundam used to improve their mutant abilities.
Sort of like a gym, Alex had mused aloud.
Mueller and Alex knew the lay-out of the area–Treize had given them explanatory information before their arrival, and they had studied it well. They had watched four boys, all of which they recognized from the photographs that Trieze had shown them, emerge from a taxi and walk inside. All of them were dressed in varying forms of workout material, save for one.
Mueller moved about anxiously, hands twitching with nervous energy as Alex wondered why in the world they were given this assignment when Treize already knew their whereabouts. What was their meaning in this purpose? It didn’t make any sense.
“Let’s go, Alex,” Mueller said huskily, wringing his hands. “Let’s go! I need to go!”
“No. We have to stay here until either Zechs or Treize gives us more instruction,” Alex replied, ignoring Mueller’s nervous gestures. “Aren’t you satisfied enough with the blood that you were given? You know we can’t have a mutant until Treize decides that we’ve done our job.”
“There are four of them there! Let’s go there! I just need a snack, a tiny snack,” Mueller whimpered, taking a few steps forward to the warehouse, then moving back into the shadows when Alex forced them to turn around.
“No! You idiot! We have to wait for further instructions! For all we know, those four could take care of us instantly! They’re trained to fight guys like us, stupid. Besides, there’s one missing. He might show up soon,” Alex added, blowing into his cold hands.
“Oh, we don’t have to worry about him,” a woman’s cool voice purred from his side, startling them. Dorothy emerged from the shadows, fashionably dressed in a thick winter coat, jeans, gloves and beret. Her odd eyebrows furrowed with a pleased expression as the man took in her appearance with something similar to confusion. “He’s going to be gone for awhile...”
“Who are you?” Alex demanded.
“I’m so sorry. Wherever did my manners go? I, am Dorothy Catalonia,” she said, bowing slightly with a flourish. “I have been under Treize’s command for some time, now. We have failed to cross paths before. This will be our first assignment together...”
“What are you here for?”
“Mmm...I have experience with these lovely young bucks...I know more about them than they could possibly know themselves. Treize wanted me to accompany you on your task...”
“Doing what?” Alex asked warily, wondering why the stipulation in his and Mueller’s assignment.
“My job, my fine fellows, consists of penetrating their ranks,” she answered, a slight smirk on her face as she gave an airy gesture toward the warehouse. “Your job is to merely keep them in sight.”
“I really don’t understand this assignment at all,” Mueller grumbled, blowing into his hands. “It makes no sense! It seems as if Treize knows their whereabouts without needing to pull us into the picture!”
“You’ll see in due time what your true role will be,” she murmured, facing the warehouse as she crossed her arms. “For now...we’ll watch.”
“How do you know the other one’s going to be missing?” Alex demanded, frowning at her as he brushed his bangs from his face.
“Because I just came from his rendezvous with his instructor, and his instructor has given no indication of shutting up anytime soon,” she said on a sigh, gloved fingers on her flawless face.
“What can you do?” Mueller then asked curiously.
“I, dear sirs, can infiltrate the enemy without them noticing,” she said with a curving slip of her lips. She touched her forehead. “I can enter their minds–they won’t notice...they’ll be...put to sleep when I’m in there with them. I take complete control of their bodies–I did it once before, and had a hell of a time with it.”
Alex didn’t understand–if Treize had this woman working for him, and they knew their mutants’ locations, then why bother with his and Mueller’s aid? It just didn’t make sense! Unless they knew that Mueller was able to ‘switch’ off mutants’ powers, the ability coming handy because of his need to feed off their energy... Which would make more sense.
“They won’t know you’re taking over?” he then asked, raising his eyebrows.
“No. They won’t recall a single minute of it. Perfect infiltrating, unless I give myself away, which I did last time. They won’t be so fond of me, this time.”
“You’re going to do it?”
“When the time is right, my associate. When the time is right...there are endless possibilities!” She covered her flushed cheeks, heaving a dainty sigh as she closed her eyes. “Oh, Heero–! Our time may have been cut short the last time, but this time–! Things shall be entirely different...”
Alex and Mueller stared at her in wordless wonder as she twirled away from them, long, blond hair fluttering over her trim frame.
“Who’s ‘Heero’?”
“One of those kids. I think he was the Japanese...”
“What are we looking for?”
“We don’t rightly know what we’re looking for. All we know is that we’re here!” Alex replied, his voice growing irritated.
“There’s no need to get angry with me, Alex. I was just asking!”
Dorothy turned to them, light blue eyes lighting with curiosity as she stared at the single man that spoke to himself in varying pitches of tone and voice. She was utterly amazed that she was working with someone with such differences. Treize had warned her Alex/Mueller was a multiple personality mutant, but to actually get to know one–!
No wonder Zechs had him tied to the bedpost for awhile, she thought to herself, one overly exaggerated eyebrow rising. Two in one!
Alex shifted uncomfortably under that gaze. “So...what do we do now?”
“We just wait. Watch and wait.”
The mutant shook his head in confused annoyance.
O0o0o0o0o0oO
Duo grinned as he reached out to tug on Wufei’s tightly bound ponytail, the Chinese growling in warning before disappearing in a flurry of speed.
Trowa cawed loudly as he shifted into raven form, taking flight in the ‘skies’ above. Their mission, a very light one to get Duo used to the activity within the Hangar, was to locate a lost little girl in the wide open spaces of Central Park. Duo wasn’t taking the simulation very seriously, and kept bothering Wufei, trying to get the other mutant to pay attention to him. Trowa was concentrating on his own thing, searching for the girl, but adding his two cents’ to the conversation playing between them.
“Damn it, Duo!” Wufei cursed, reaching back to make sure his ponytail was in place. “We’re being recorded, you know? The doctors watch every one of our sessions!”
“Aw, don’t be so sore, Wufie, my Bejing beauty!”
“I AM NOT FROM BEIJING!”
“All right, Hong Kong, then,” Duo rectified, bowing lowly before him.
“You’re just asking for an ass whipping, Maxwell! Insulting my background! You’ll pay for your insolent behavior in mocking me! I do not do well with people mocking me!!” Wufei growled, fists clenched as he grew more insulted with each phrase. “I’ll have you know, I am from San Francisco’s Chinatown!!”
Duo erupted into laughter, and Wufei smiled shyly at him, moving away to distance himself from the braided one. With his cheeks suddenly burning with color, the Chinese had to shake his head, wondering why he was flirting back with the boy. It was totally dishonorable, out of character, and completely inappropriate for this time and place.
But the boy was so infectious! Always with a smile or grin, his violet eyes dancing with mirth and cheer, and Wufei couldn’t help but be pulled into such a mood. Glancing around, he was mortified to know that the doctors would be seeing this behavior, possibly even overhearing it.
O is going to be disappointed in me, for sure, he thought, his shoulders slumping.
But he really couldn’t help it–Duo was just so...attractive, so cheery, and–it made him feel good that Duo would pay him such particular attention. He hadn’t had this sort of affection and attention before, and it was quite flattering. It made him feel cheered that someone thought him worthy enough to make a move on.
He looked at the boy now, who was racing across the open grass toward a group of children near some adults. The simulation this evening was a bright, summer’s day in Central Park, and it was perfect as could be. Really, there was enough area and space for Trowa to chase the boy around, to further his cardio. Trowa had planned on doing just that after they completed their simulation.
Quatre was monitoring them from the control room, and Wufei recalled the boy complaining of a headache caused by the earlier use of his powers.
Wufei had to wonder about that one–he had enormous promise in his abilities, and the fact that they were practically untrained and unused was a little curious. Wouldn’t he use those same talents to get himself off the streets and into comfortable wealth if he pushed himself? The lack of use in those talents had Wufei wondering once more why the reason Quatre had come to America, his story suggesting that he was running from something. Or, perhaps, someone.
He looked up when he noticed Duo running for him, looking over his shoulder at a German Shepard, of which was about to snap his teeth on his ass. Wufei had to snicker at Duo’s scared expression.
It felt good to be this light-hearted, to feel such relief from the pressure of their work. It felt good to act their age. Duo and Quatre, since they’d arrived at their home, had helped them change a lot of things. Wufei was thankful for that mutant, whomever it was and no matter how horrifying the situation it had been for them both. Wufei, studying Duo’s expression and panicked shouts at near misses by the dog, was certainly very happy to have met Duo. Duo lit up whatever room he was in. Wufei couldn’t help but feel cheered whenever he saw the boy.
It had made him feel guilty the other day, reporting to J what he’d learned about the boy, but he had to do so without looking smitten with the ‘chit’ and possibly causing unrelated harm to the boy. Both boys. If the doctors hadn’t thought they were so valuable, there was no doubt in Wufei’s mind that the original trio would be pulled aside and ordered to ‘get rid’ of them. Wufei didn’t want any harm coming to Duo, or to Quatre. But he would follow through with his order if he had to.
Duo, meanwhile, raced helter-skelter through the grassy area, screaming for some relief from the rabid mutant behind him. He huffed and puffed his way through the area, arching his back, hoping against hope that Trowa wouldn’t catch his ass in those vicious looking teeth of his. Really, it was so frightening to think that this guy wouldn’t hesitate to hurt him if he caught up to him, and Duo, being unable to teleport without any shadow–damn this time of day!– had to run his ass off to keep Trowa from catching him.
He felt and smelt hot doggie breath just behind him, and opened his mouth to scream a negative when Wufei was suddenly there, forcing them both to a stop.
“All right, all right, stop,” Wufei commanded, pulling on Trowa’s collar. “Sally suggested light exercise, Barton. He looks like he’s going to have a heart attack.”
Trowa shifted into human form, looking disgusted as he glared at Wufei. Muttering about knights in shining polyester, he walked off. Wufei scowled at his back, and looked down at Duo, who was leaning on his knees, bent at the waist.
“Are you all right?”
“Just lemme catch my breath...”
“Seriously, Duo? We need to work more on your cardio. Sometimes, there are moments when we are literally running for blocks–you’re going to need a lot more stamina and endurance than this to get by. We aren’t always going to be there, and we have to rely on ourselves.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Duo muttered, straightening. His face was bright red with exertion. Sweeping his hair from his face, he looked at Wufei with a leery grin. “I have more endurance and stamina in other areas... wanna see?”
Wufei refused to blush, giving him a regal expression that displayed his choice in the matter. Duo simply laughed it off.
In the control room, Quatre sighed heavily and watched as Trowa located the little girl. As soon as he did, the hologram faded away, leaving behind the darkened room of towers. The trio were making their way back to the control room when the back door opened, and he glanced over his shoulder to see that it was Heero.
The Asian looked at him in surprise as he removed his jacket and gloves, glancing over as Wufei entered the room.
“Dr J finish his speech?” Wufei asked in inquiry.
“Utterly useless. I ended up moving the furniture around in his apartment,” Heero said bitterly, an angry scowl on his face.
Wufei chuckled, and set to work on the laptop again. After inputting his choices, the room was once again lit up with a hangar that looked to be set in space. True to that, he heard twin shouts of surprise from the room as gravity was lost.
“You dream too high, Wufei. We aren’t going to space,” Heero snorted, shaking his head.
“But it might come in handy, Yuy. Do you want to join?”
“No,” Heero answered, glancing at Quatre.
Wufei lifted an eyebrow, walking away from the laptop. Without saying a word, but his expression saying everything, he walked out into the room.
Heero walked away from the pile of coats that sat near the door, and took the other chair next to Quatre. The silence was heavy between them both as they watched Trowa chase Duo around in Chihuahua form, Wufei erupting into laughter. They had obviously lost focus of their ‘mission’ and were intent on having fun. Turning away from the screen, Heero studied Quatre’s profile, taking in the harsh angles and shadows that marred his face. Once Quatre realized that Heero was staring at him, he glanced over, feeling his gut tighten as he managed to lock his eyes with the Asian’s.
There was a loud thump from the window, and both looked over to see that Duo had clasped both hands around his eyes, and was trying to peer in. Unable to see anything, he opened his mouth wide and blew against the glass. Wufei was there to drag him back by his hair, and the simulation changed once more, into something that had all three falling to the floor.
Heero looked back at Quatre, who looked down at the panel, tracing the metal with a fingertip. Reaching out, Heero brushed his fingers through the white strands of Quatre’s hair, quietly marveling at the softness. His fingers then fell over the back of his neck, brushing over the bump of his spine, and over the collar of his shirt. Trailing down his back, Heero watched Quatre’s profile with an intent gaze of his own, then curled his fingers through the material of his shirt, pulling at the blond.
Quatre hesitated for a few moments, then left his chair, letting Heero guide him. The muscled mutant pulled him down onto the chair with him, forcing him to sit on his lap. He grew uncomfortable and stiff as Heero’s arms wrapped around his body, holding him tightly. His back was rigid when he felt Heero’s head resting upon it, feeling his cheekbone pressed against his spine.
A shout from the control room startled the blond, making him look up as he saw that Duo was currently battling what looked to be a giant ogre armed with a ridiculously large hammer.
Wufei was shouting directions at him from the side, and Trowa was lounging atop of a metal crate, looking ready to fall asleep. The picture was ridiculous, actually, and made Quatre’s lips twitch as he wondered at its reality. He felt Heero’s hands move, sliding up his stomach and over his chest, rubbing with a tender caress that made the action feel good. He swallowed hard and watched as the ogre went after Trowa, who just barely avoided a hammer to the head.
Duo was trying to hide, but Wufei was preventing that, holding tightly onto his jacket and roaring instructions while Trowa played with the ogre. Quatre couldn’t imagine himself being part of that group as he sat on Heero’s lap, feeling his body tremble with the mutant’s caresses. He couldn’t imagine being any other way, playing any other role than one of the whore. He felt himself swallow again, feeling the telltale bulge rising underneath him. For a second, he really didn’t want to respond to that. But the more hardened and weathered part of him knew that he’d better work to please before Heero grew angry with him. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to grow pliant and soft as his hands reached behind and between them to manipulate Heero’s erection.
It was nearly an hour later when Duo, Wufei and Trowa breezed back into the control room. All of them were breathing heavily and looked flushed from their work-out.
Trowa immediately paused, sniffing the air and then looking at Heero suspiciously.
“Well, I guess we’re done for the night,” Wufei sighed, shutting off the program. “Heero? Are you sure you don’t want to work-out? O mentioned they installed new programs. Do you want to try one?”
“No. I’m good.”
“I’ll bet you are,” Trowa muttered.
“You should try again, Quat!” Duo said, looking at the blond. Quatre shook his head silently, playing with the sleeves of his shirt, and Duo frowned at him. His eyes snaked over to Heero, then back again. He opened his mouth to say something when Wufei’s voice cut through the noise.
“Let’s go to dinner. I’m starving.”
“We ate before we came here, Wufei.”
“I’m hungry, Trowa.”
“Then eat some fucking meat!”
“I’m hungry, too!” Duo chirped loudly, waving his hand.
“So am I,” Heero chimed in, rising from his chair. “We’ll go to that diner a couple of blocks away. They’re open twenty-four hours.”
“Fine, fine...” Wufei sighed as they gathered their jackets and things, and he began inputting the security code to lock up the Hangar. Hearing the telltale clicks of the protection system moving into place, he followed the others out the door.
Standard Disclaimers Apply: Don’t own Gundam Wing nor X-Men
Notes: Some stuff was changed around, here. I deleted some stuff, added some stuff, so it’s still the long winded, pompous bag that ya’ll are familiar with–just with some differences.
O0o0o0o0o0oO means scene change
Chapter Eight:
You Do If You Knew
He wrinkled his nose as the smell of Pledge assaulted him with its lemony goodness. The dirty rag he carried was lightly dusted from the various areas he’d cleaned, and he wasn’t ready to stop now. The house was strangely silent, with the two women gone and the other boys asleep. Quatre peered up at the ceiling, listening for any telltale signs that anyone was up and awake. It was nearly three in the afternoon, and he felt truly bored, despite attacking the house with the need to clean. He hadn’t bothered using any of the more noisy appliances, and had stuck to sweeping, mopping, wiping and frantic rubbing.
While he cleaned, he kept thinking about his situation with Heero–physical attraction was obvious. He couldn’t help but quiver with need whenever he was within the Japanese’s presence. But what was it that had him so in lust with the boy?
Quatre knew he wasn’t the most powerful mutant, or even the most physically dominant in any manner. He heard all the snickers and comments on his frame, and on his looks. He knew what he looked like–and there were going to be people who either disagreed or fully hated it. But he couldn’t help it. Nothing he could do would ever turn him manly like Heero, or physically athletic like Wufei, or even attractive like Duo.
He was always going to have eyelashes that were too light for his eyes, and he was always going to look washed-out and pale because of his coloring. He couldn’t help that.
He didn’t know what made Heero attracted to him.
But would physical attraction ever turn into something more?
Pausing to survey his damage done on the mess, he turned away from the entertainment center and walked out from the living room to put the Pledge and other things away.
He didn’t think he could ever come to love the guy–their personalities were much too different. He was fairly confident Heero felt the same way–given indication be that ‘report’ he’d given to Dr J. There wasn’t an inkling of feeling the Japanese had for him, and while he’d been hurt at first, he’d come to accept that their attraction was based on similar lust.
He didn’t believe in love. There hadn’t been a reason to.
There was a creak and a slam upstairs, suggesting that someone was using the bathroom, and he wondered who it was as he began on the various cupboards that held nothing but thrown in knick-knacks. By the time he’d finished straightening out the junk drawer and re-arranged the trash bag and potato cupboard, it was nearly a half hour since he’d looked at the clock. Sighing, he picked himself up from the floor and swept up the dirt that remained from the potato bag.
With nothing more to do, he wandered into the living room, collapsing on the couch. Sighing heavily once more, he stared at the blank tv screen and wondered about his assignment. He hadn’t done any of the needed hours to make his...well, instructor(?) happy, and he really didn’t want to mess with people’s emotions.
It just wasn’t right. It was just the same as forcing someone against his/her will, and he wasn’t that sort of person. He groaned into his throw pillow, then sat up. Since he didn’t want to mess with the emotions of the people living here, he figured that if he went somewhere to do so, he would draw in the recommended hours that would work his power.
He rose from the couch, recalling the grocery store that Sally and Catherine had taken him and Duo several times during one of their grocery outings. The other three hated any such activity, and he and Duo ended up doing their chores. Which was fine with him. He’d rather work for his stay than mooch off others.
He looked down at his plain black tee and sweats, and went upstairs to change.
The other boys were still asleep; Duo snoring loudly as he laid buried within his blankets, only his braid visible; Wufei was lying on his back, drooling; Trowa was curled up, oddly, in cat form and purred as he slept; Heero had one hand curled underneath his cheek and looked irritated even in sleep. Quatre quietly walked over to his dresser, withdrawing a pair of jeans, a long-sleeve thermal shirt, and a sweater that sat folded on top of his dresser.
He changed quickly, and stuffed his feet into his shoes, tying them hastily. Glancing back at the others, he saw that Trowa was awake and watching him with all the disinterest all cats did when disturbed from their sleep, so Quatre let him know that he was headed to the grocery store.
Trowa’s response was to curl into a ball, settling his tail over his face, dismissing him.
Quatre walked out from the bedroom and headed downstairs to pull a coat from the hall closet. He chose Heero’s, feeling a giddy sense of nervousness upon doing so. It smelled like him, eliciting shivers throughout his thin frame and a sense of security as he drew the heavy material over him. Grabbing a spare house key from the collection located within a matchbox in the closet, he tucked that into his pocket and walked outside. It was cold, the remaining drifts of snow blinding him momentarily as he stepped out onto the porch. With a frustrated expression at what he had to do, he began walking the twenty blocks to the grocery store.
O0o0o0o0o0oO
A woman was busily yelling at a toddler that sobbed hysterically; a set of twins were screaming at each other; the father talked with some disinterest in his cellphone. Quatre frowned as he focused on the woman first, hating the way she screamed at the hapless child. Instantly, her mean face turned into a soft expression, cooing comfort words to the wailing toddler. Holding his power on the woman, to keep her happy, he focused with some difficulty on the child, feeling a strain as he did so. The toddler quieted, babbling incoherently as she reached out to her mother’s face. Trying hard to keep his hold on the two people, he then focused on one twin, feeling his face contort to a grimace as he tried hard to keep up the action.
The little boy stopped slapping his brother and peered with some disinterest around him, completely indifferent to things around him. The strain was too much–Quatre let go of them as they neared the automatic doors, and chaos erupted once more.
Sighing, he sank low on the bench, feeling his head pound with awful pain. He looked at the darkening sky, wondering how much time had passed since he’d arrived. He took a deep breath and sat up in his seat as an older man took the other end, cradling a bag to him as he waited for a taxi. Quatre looked at the many people that wandered the filled parking lot, and focused on a harried teenager that was struggling with at least ten bags of groceries. Making her immensely happy, he had to grimace as she cheerily sang and danced her way to her car, causing others to look at her strangely.
A woman that smiled brightly as she talked to her boyfriend turned into a monstrous bitch as Quatre forced her to feel strife. The poor man looked slapped as she verbally ripped into him. An older woman who looked obviously tucked and nipped in various places turned generous as she began handing out bills randomly from her wallet. A young male that had taken his time to check out the blond on the bench turned furious as he stomped away, kicking at parking signs and decorative bushes.
Quatre began to feel mentally strained in this activity, and he adjusted himself on the bench, frowning as he focused in on another subject. This time, he was going to make the person feel...sadness. It was easy to do–he simply had to project his own feeling into another person. To see this man suddenly pause in the middle of the sidewalk, blinking rapidly as his gloved hands touched his face, made Quatre feel sad. He often wondered, when being subjected to violence, if his attackers ever felt a shred of concern or compassion for him. Did they often think back to what they had done and feel guilty?
He released his hold on the man, stuffing his hands deep within his pockets. The man glanced around, bewildered by his sudden emotions, then hurriedly walked off. His stiff frame told the blond that he’d been embarrassed.
Quatre rose from the bench and ventured into the store. Determined to escape the direction of his thoughts, he wandered the aisles, traveling up and down without a sense of direction or purpose. Passing time this way, doing mundane things, kept him from thinking, or from bruising. As he made his way toward the deli section, he became aware of eyes that lit upon his form. With a small sound of distress, he turned away from the deli section and began walking toward the front, to escape the animosity and hate that this person felt for him. He glanced over his shoulder to see an old woman glaring at him, her too bright lips thinned in a wrinkled line below her nose.
He couldn’t tell why she disliked him–all he could sense was her hostility and disgust. He turned to continue walking when he bumped into a man that had been laughing with his friends. They immediately glared at him, and he ducked his head and hurried off.
“HEY! Where the hell you goin’? No apology?” he heard the guy shout after him.
He ignored the shout and headed outside, wincing at the darkness that had fallen during his adventures inside the store. He stood on the sidewalk, and glanced from side to side. So far, he’d done some training on his abilities, but it wasn’t the amount that H would be satisfied with. He dipped his hands into his jacket pockets, and stared at the various people that were making their way in and out of the store. He played with a few others’ emotions until he realized that he wasn’t alone.
Turning his head, he looked up at the man he’d bumped into, his two friends obtusely taking up his sides. Intensely uncomfortable, his first instinct to run making his legs stiff, Quatre ducked his head and started walking forward. When he realized that they were walking with him, preventing him from walking away from him, he hesitated. Someone honked in irritation as they blocked the road, and his elbow was grasped, one of the men yanking him with them as they made their way into the parking lot.
He ripped his arm away from the man, and turned to walk away when he was shoved abruptly against someone’s vehicle.
“Fag.”
He wasn’t sure who said it, but the dripping hate coming from that word made his gut twist. He was used to such things. It wasn’t the first time someone had uttered it to hurt.
“I want my apology, faggot.”
All words left him, and he concentrated on the speaker, forcing him to feel cheer and hunger for the contents he held within his plastic bag. This small diversion left his friends with puzzled expressions as the first man declared that they hurry up and eat. One of the men frowned as he saw the concentrating look on Quatre’s face, and he hissed, “He’s a mutie!”
“Fucking freak!” the other growled, fist clenched. “Stop fuckin’ around with him!”
“C’mon, guys! Fuck this bullshit! Let’s eat!”
“I said, stop fuckin’ with him!” the second guy roared, shoving Quatre hard enough for him to fall to the pavement. A car slammed to a screeching halt, just barely avoiding hitting him. He rose to his feet, hurrying away from the scene as the driver leaned out her window and began shouting at them all. He heard the shouts of the men as he left them, dropping his concentration on the man he’d pinned.
Breaking into a run, he hurried home. Upon reaching the house, he had to step back and examine his feelings. Seeing that nearly every window was lit from the front, the curtains drawn in the lower level and drawn in the upper, the house gave a sense of comfortable security the longer he looked at it. He knew it was warm inside, smelling of spices and mixed body scents, and he knew that once he entered he’d feel safe and somewhat secure. Swallowing, his brow furrowing as he examined his feelings, he stepped onto the porch and quietly walked in.
Duo leapt up from the couch, chips flying everywhere as he stomped into the hall, slapping Quatre upside the head.
“Ow!” he protested, looking at the braided boy with a pained expression.
“Where were you?” Duo growled, reaching over to jerk the jacket off of him. “We were looking all over for you!”
“I told Trowa I went to the grocery store,” Quatre answered, slipping his arms out from the jacket that was forcefully being torn off.
“Trowa didn’t tell us anything,” Sally said as she walked out from the kitchen, where it smelled as if dinner was being prepared. “You better let someone know where you’ve gone, Quatre. That was very dangerous of you.”
“I’m sorry. I just thought that–”
“With that guy out there, Quatre, me an’ you have to be careful!” Duo continued, reaching up to pull his hair with a forceful tug.
“I’m sorry. I just told Trowa because he was awake at the time,” Quatre said, turning to Sally as she held her hands on her hips, frowning in motherly concern. “I went to the grocery store.”
“That’s over twenty blocks away, Quatre. If you need to go somewhere to practice, use the one over there,” Sally pointed. “It’s only seven blocks away.”
“I went to the only one I know.”
“Just be careful, all right? No one followed you?”
Quatre thought of the three men, but shook his head. “No. I know when people are following me.”
Sally sighed, then walked off to join her lover in the kitchen. Duo glowered at him, but with a more concerned expression than a mean one. Then he looked away, walking back into the living room, where he’d been watching a cartoon.
Noticing that they were three boys short, Quatre asked, “The others aren’t awake, yet?”
“The doctors are here. They’re talking to them in the basement,” Duo said, cramming his mouth full of chips. “Something hush-hush.”
Quatre sank down onto the love seat, taking off his shoes. “You don’t know about what?”
“Nope.” Duo tossed his head, his braid whipping about. He patted the empty space beside him, smiling hopefully. “Come sit by me.”
Quatre got up from his spot and sat next to Duo, who immediately snuggled against him, laying his head in his lap.
“Scratch my scalp. Like Sally does,” he then commanded while Quatre gave him a weary expression. Duo then hurriedly lifted his head, stuffed a throw pillow between his head and one bony thigh, then resumed his position. Cautiously, Quatre slipped his fingers through the thick mass of hair and scratched lightly to Duo’s comfort.
The boy let out a throaty purr, relaxing in the position as he stared at his cartoons. Quatre continued doing this until the door to the basement opened, and the doctors, with their loud words and ridiculous notions, emerged with the other three.
Duo shot up clumsily from his position and was out of the living room via teleportation before Quatre could withdraw his hands from his hair. Dr J walked into the living room, spying him with a scowl, but saying nothing as he gathered his coat and hat. The other doctors filed suit, H pausing near the closet and giving him a frown.
“You are practicing, are you?” he demanded, odd mustache bouncing with every movement of his upper lip.
“Yes, sir.”
“How many hours?”
Squirming uncomfortably under that gaze, Quatre answered softly.
“Only six? I told you sixty hours!”
“I–I’m sorry. I will keep trying.”
“This isn’t freeload central, you know! You’ve got to earn your keep! If this pathetic display of worthlessness continues, I’ll make sure your death is messy and drawn!”
“Oh, stop, you overbloated bag of waste,” S snorted. “You’re just about as threatening as my pet kitten.”
“You’ve got a kitten, S?” O asked, blinking repeatedly, momentarily distracted from giving his own two cents.
“Yes. She’s the particular little creature you see upon entering my apartment.”
“...S. You told me that was your granddaughter’s stuffed Barbie cat...” G said, looking at S with a disgusted expression, enraged that his associate was keeping company with said granddaughter’s toys.
“My kitten is a faithful, loyal thing. I value its worth much more than I would with one of you old bastards,” S said on a sniff.
“You’re one crazy old fart,” G snorted, shaking his head in saddened pity.
“I don’t see any pets in your place, old man!”
“Children, children. Can we please proceed?” Dr J asked on a sigh, jerking the door open and leading the way out, the others still discussing S’s particular traits.
After they’d left, Quatre sighed. He did want a warm, comfortable home. Wufei stalked into the room, moving to change the channel and noticing him there.
“Where were you?” he asked curiously, flicking the channel over to a documentary on Pearl Harbor.
“Practicing.”
“Couldn’t you stay here and practice?”
“No.”
“Why not? I’m sure controlling Trowa and Heero would be an ideal obstacle for your powers,” Wufei said on a smirk.
“I would rather not use my powers on those closest to me, Wufei.”
“You don’t have to be honorable about them, Quatre. They’re about as worthless as–”
“As what, Wufei?” Heero growled, grabbing the boy into a headlock.
Wufei struggled against the strong hold, rising from his chair to do so. Quatre figured the subject in discussion was dropped as Wufei put his hands onto Heero’s arm, and Heero suddenly let him go with a startled yelp, the smell of burnt skin filling the living room.
Alarmed, Quatre rose from the couch as Heero looked at the blackened hand prints on his muscled arm. Wufei gave him a satisfied smirk, walking away.
“What–? What happened?” Quatre asked, unsure how that had happened as he looked at Heero’s arm. Wufei’s hand prints had sliced through the skin, all the way to the gleaming white bone beneath. Burnt pieces of fat bubbled and dripped, singed muscle quivered with movement. The smell of burnt flesh was gruesomely assaulting, making the blond sick as his hands slipped up to cover his nose and mouth. Skin crackled and slipped, and Quatre was horrified at this sight, unsure of how to treat this.
“Wufei likes to show off his pyro tendencies,” Heero said gruffly, wincing with pain. He dug his fingers into the thick muscle of his forearm, and pierced the skin with his nails. His mouth dropping open as he wondered if Heero were going to strip his arm of the damaged skin, Quatre stared at him in stunned horror, reaching out to stop him from doing so.
Heero pulled at his arm harshly, the loud ‘shrpp!’ of sound tearing through the air. The sound startled Quatre, forcing him to pause as Heero lifted his hand, drawing a very thin blanket of colored skin that had the consistency of paper. Eyes shooting from the paper-thin material to a very perfect arm, Quatre wasn’t sure what to say as Heero dropped the shredded piece of whichever onto the ground, and proceeded to tear through his own skin, starting from his shoulders and ripping downward. Then he reached up, tearing at the flaps underneath his jaw and chin, drawing upwards.
Quatre just stood there in stunned horror as Heero finished ‘husking’, a bunch of shredded material lying at his feet. Duo was standing there as well, as equally as shocked as Heero flexed his arms. As good as new, Heero looked at Quatre, the blond staring at him with a terrorized expression.
“OH MY GOD!” Duo howled, hands at his face. He crouched, picking up the shredded material, noting that it had once been Heero’s back. It felt scratchy and thin, and fit over his own skin like saran wrap. He shrieked again, hopping up and down wildly as he fluttered the piece of material in the air, which stuck to him with all the consistency of a booger.
Heero snatched the shredded material from him, Quatre’s mouth working, with nothing coming out. Heero turned to him, thrusting the material at the blond.
“This is my self-healing capability,” he said huskily, forcing Quatre to hold it. He had an faintly eager expression on his face, as if he were a child trying to show off his accomplishment to a respected adult.
The blond stared at the material that was forced into his hands, which immediately fitted over his open palms. Shuddering in revulsion and disbelief, Quatre was unable to move as he stared down at the piece that coated his hands.
“I can shed my skin to heal myself.”
“THAT IS SOOOO COOL!” Duo screamed excitedly, bending to grab another piece. “I WISH I COULD DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS!!”
Seeing that it was the back of Heero’s head, he splayed that over his face, and went in search for someone to scare. At the numerous shrieks of disgust and fright from the kitchen, he found his victims in the two women, and Wufei.
“Er...interesting,” Quatre stammered, trying to dislodge the sticky material from his hands without actually moving to touch it. Heero smirked at him as he struggled, then reached over to tear the shed skin from the hapless blond’s hands.
“Gross. You did it again,” Trowa muttered in disgust, hands in his pockets as he stared down at Heero’s husking material. “I swear, that is so nasty! I hope you don’t expect your bitch to clean up after you.”
“Shut it, Trowa.”
“Heero? How...how do you get rid of it?” Quatre questioned, rubbing his palms on his jeans to somehow wipe off the feeling that remained on them.
“Throw it away. It’s garbage. It disintegrates after some time, but after awhile, it’s like old potato skin.”
“Biodegradable,” Trowa added with a serious nod.
Ew, was all Quatre thought, easing away from the mess in the hall.
Trowa shook his head and sauntered into the living room. Heero then frowned, reaching out to catch one thin wrist within his hand, stopping Quatre in mid-step as the blond turned to sit back down. It would be so easy to clench that slender appendage within his fingers, to break thin bones–which had Heero unsettled. He knew that if he didn’t keep himself careful, he could easily seriously damage the slighter mutant, and even kill him on accident.
“We’re going to the Hanger, tonight,” he said.
Holding the thin wrist within his hand, ignoring the way his blood seemed to heat with just the simple action, Heero stared at the face that stared up at his. He noted that the thin cheeks were slowly filling out, the skin color turning much more healthy, the bedraggled appearance turning much more clean.
Quatre gave him a questioning expression, frowning.
“I have to stop by Dr J’s before I get there. Go there with the others, all right? And next time, when you leave, you let someone know,” Heero added with an annoyed frown. He punctuated this with a hard squeeze of the slender wrist in his hand, making the other wince.
“I told Trowa–!”
“Trowa doesn’t care about that sort of thing. He won’t say anything to anyone. If you have to, wake me up. Is that clear?”
Quatre murmured an agreement, pulling his hand away, rubbing his wrist. Heero turned to stare after him, and out of the corner of his eye, noticed Trowa wildly making out with his hand. Figuring that smushing him with the loveseat was too much trouble, Heero made the more mature decision and ignored the gesture, walking off toward the kitchen to see what he could snag before he left.
O0o0o0o0o0oO
The darkness concealed his form as he stared at the warehouse, which he’d been informed hid an impressive array of technology and wondrous modern improvisions that Operation: Gundam used to improve their mutant abilities.
Sort of like a gym, Alex had mused aloud.
Mueller and Alex knew the lay-out of the area–Treize had given them explanatory information before their arrival, and they had studied it well. They had watched four boys, all of which they recognized from the photographs that Trieze had shown them, emerge from a taxi and walk inside. All of them were dressed in varying forms of workout material, save for one.
Mueller moved about anxiously, hands twitching with nervous energy as Alex wondered why in the world they were given this assignment when Treize already knew their whereabouts. What was their meaning in this purpose? It didn’t make any sense.
“Let’s go, Alex,” Mueller said huskily, wringing his hands. “Let’s go! I need to go!”
“No. We have to stay here until either Zechs or Treize gives us more instruction,” Alex replied, ignoring Mueller’s nervous gestures. “Aren’t you satisfied enough with the blood that you were given? You know we can’t have a mutant until Treize decides that we’ve done our job.”
“There are four of them there! Let’s go there! I just need a snack, a tiny snack,” Mueller whimpered, taking a few steps forward to the warehouse, then moving back into the shadows when Alex forced them to turn around.
“No! You idiot! We have to wait for further instructions! For all we know, those four could take care of us instantly! They’re trained to fight guys like us, stupid. Besides, there’s one missing. He might show up soon,” Alex added, blowing into his cold hands.
“Oh, we don’t have to worry about him,” a woman’s cool voice purred from his side, startling them. Dorothy emerged from the shadows, fashionably dressed in a thick winter coat, jeans, gloves and beret. Her odd eyebrows furrowed with a pleased expression as the man took in her appearance with something similar to confusion. “He’s going to be gone for awhile...”
“Who are you?” Alex demanded.
“I’m so sorry. Wherever did my manners go? I, am Dorothy Catalonia,” she said, bowing slightly with a flourish. “I have been under Treize’s command for some time, now. We have failed to cross paths before. This will be our first assignment together...”
“What are you here for?”
“Mmm...I have experience with these lovely young bucks...I know more about them than they could possibly know themselves. Treize wanted me to accompany you on your task...”
“Doing what?” Alex asked warily, wondering why the stipulation in his and Mueller’s assignment.
“My job, my fine fellows, consists of penetrating their ranks,” she answered, a slight smirk on her face as she gave an airy gesture toward the warehouse. “Your job is to merely keep them in sight.”
“I really don’t understand this assignment at all,” Mueller grumbled, blowing into his hands. “It makes no sense! It seems as if Treize knows their whereabouts without needing to pull us into the picture!”
“You’ll see in due time what your true role will be,” she murmured, facing the warehouse as she crossed her arms. “For now...we’ll watch.”
“How do you know the other one’s going to be missing?” Alex demanded, frowning at her as he brushed his bangs from his face.
“Because I just came from his rendezvous with his instructor, and his instructor has given no indication of shutting up anytime soon,” she said on a sigh, gloved fingers on her flawless face.
“What can you do?” Mueller then asked curiously.
“I, dear sirs, can infiltrate the enemy without them noticing,” she said with a curving slip of her lips. She touched her forehead. “I can enter their minds–they won’t notice...they’ll be...put to sleep when I’m in there with them. I take complete control of their bodies–I did it once before, and had a hell of a time with it.”
Alex didn’t understand–if Treize had this woman working for him, and they knew their mutants’ locations, then why bother with his and Mueller’s aid? It just didn’t make sense! Unless they knew that Mueller was able to ‘switch’ off mutants’ powers, the ability coming handy because of his need to feed off their energy... Which would make more sense.
“They won’t know you’re taking over?” he then asked, raising his eyebrows.
“No. They won’t recall a single minute of it. Perfect infiltrating, unless I give myself away, which I did last time. They won’t be so fond of me, this time.”
“You’re going to do it?”
“When the time is right, my associate. When the time is right...there are endless possibilities!” She covered her flushed cheeks, heaving a dainty sigh as she closed her eyes. “Oh, Heero–! Our time may have been cut short the last time, but this time–! Things shall be entirely different...”
Alex and Mueller stared at her in wordless wonder as she twirled away from them, long, blond hair fluttering over her trim frame.
“Who’s ‘Heero’?”
“One of those kids. I think he was the Japanese...”
“What are we looking for?”
“We don’t rightly know what we’re looking for. All we know is that we’re here!” Alex replied, his voice growing irritated.
“There’s no need to get angry with me, Alex. I was just asking!”
Dorothy turned to them, light blue eyes lighting with curiosity as she stared at the single man that spoke to himself in varying pitches of tone and voice. She was utterly amazed that she was working with someone with such differences. Treize had warned her Alex/Mueller was a multiple personality mutant, but to actually get to know one–!
No wonder Zechs had him tied to the bedpost for awhile, she thought to herself, one overly exaggerated eyebrow rising. Two in one!
Alex shifted uncomfortably under that gaze. “So...what do we do now?”
“We just wait. Watch and wait.”
The mutant shook his head in confused annoyance.
O0o0o0o0o0oO
Duo grinned as he reached out to tug on Wufei’s tightly bound ponytail, the Chinese growling in warning before disappearing in a flurry of speed.
Trowa cawed loudly as he shifted into raven form, taking flight in the ‘skies’ above. Their mission, a very light one to get Duo used to the activity within the Hangar, was to locate a lost little girl in the wide open spaces of Central Park. Duo wasn’t taking the simulation very seriously, and kept bothering Wufei, trying to get the other mutant to pay attention to him. Trowa was concentrating on his own thing, searching for the girl, but adding his two cents’ to the conversation playing between them.
“Damn it, Duo!” Wufei cursed, reaching back to make sure his ponytail was in place. “We’re being recorded, you know? The doctors watch every one of our sessions!”
“Aw, don’t be so sore, Wufie, my Bejing beauty!”
“I AM NOT FROM BEIJING!”
“All right, Hong Kong, then,” Duo rectified, bowing lowly before him.
“You’re just asking for an ass whipping, Maxwell! Insulting my background! You’ll pay for your insolent behavior in mocking me! I do not do well with people mocking me!!” Wufei growled, fists clenched as he grew more insulted with each phrase. “I’ll have you know, I am from San Francisco’s Chinatown!!”
Duo erupted into laughter, and Wufei smiled shyly at him, moving away to distance himself from the braided one. With his cheeks suddenly burning with color, the Chinese had to shake his head, wondering why he was flirting back with the boy. It was totally dishonorable, out of character, and completely inappropriate for this time and place.
But the boy was so infectious! Always with a smile or grin, his violet eyes dancing with mirth and cheer, and Wufei couldn’t help but be pulled into such a mood. Glancing around, he was mortified to know that the doctors would be seeing this behavior, possibly even overhearing it.
O is going to be disappointed in me, for sure, he thought, his shoulders slumping.
But he really couldn’t help it–Duo was just so...attractive, so cheery, and–it made him feel good that Duo would pay him such particular attention. He hadn’t had this sort of affection and attention before, and it was quite flattering. It made him feel cheered that someone thought him worthy enough to make a move on.
He looked at the boy now, who was racing across the open grass toward a group of children near some adults. The simulation this evening was a bright, summer’s day in Central Park, and it was perfect as could be. Really, there was enough area and space for Trowa to chase the boy around, to further his cardio. Trowa had planned on doing just that after they completed their simulation.
Quatre was monitoring them from the control room, and Wufei recalled the boy complaining of a headache caused by the earlier use of his powers.
Wufei had to wonder about that one–he had enormous promise in his abilities, and the fact that they were practically untrained and unused was a little curious. Wouldn’t he use those same talents to get himself off the streets and into comfortable wealth if he pushed himself? The lack of use in those talents had Wufei wondering once more why the reason Quatre had come to America, his story suggesting that he was running from something. Or, perhaps, someone.
He looked up when he noticed Duo running for him, looking over his shoulder at a German Shepard, of which was about to snap his teeth on his ass. Wufei had to snicker at Duo’s scared expression.
It felt good to be this light-hearted, to feel such relief from the pressure of their work. It felt good to act their age. Duo and Quatre, since they’d arrived at their home, had helped them change a lot of things. Wufei was thankful for that mutant, whomever it was and no matter how horrifying the situation it had been for them both. Wufei, studying Duo’s expression and panicked shouts at near misses by the dog, was certainly very happy to have met Duo. Duo lit up whatever room he was in. Wufei couldn’t help but feel cheered whenever he saw the boy.
It had made him feel guilty the other day, reporting to J what he’d learned about the boy, but he had to do so without looking smitten with the ‘chit’ and possibly causing unrelated harm to the boy. Both boys. If the doctors hadn’t thought they were so valuable, there was no doubt in Wufei’s mind that the original trio would be pulled aside and ordered to ‘get rid’ of them. Wufei didn’t want any harm coming to Duo, or to Quatre. But he would follow through with his order if he had to.
Duo, meanwhile, raced helter-skelter through the grassy area, screaming for some relief from the rabid mutant behind him. He huffed and puffed his way through the area, arching his back, hoping against hope that Trowa wouldn’t catch his ass in those vicious looking teeth of his. Really, it was so frightening to think that this guy wouldn’t hesitate to hurt him if he caught up to him, and Duo, being unable to teleport without any shadow–damn this time of day!– had to run his ass off to keep Trowa from catching him.
He felt and smelt hot doggie breath just behind him, and opened his mouth to scream a negative when Wufei was suddenly there, forcing them both to a stop.
“All right, all right, stop,” Wufei commanded, pulling on Trowa’s collar. “Sally suggested light exercise, Barton. He looks like he’s going to have a heart attack.”
Trowa shifted into human form, looking disgusted as he glared at Wufei. Muttering about knights in shining polyester, he walked off. Wufei scowled at his back, and looked down at Duo, who was leaning on his knees, bent at the waist.
“Are you all right?”
“Just lemme catch my breath...”
“Seriously, Duo? We need to work more on your cardio. Sometimes, there are moments when we are literally running for blocks–you’re going to need a lot more stamina and endurance than this to get by. We aren’t always going to be there, and we have to rely on ourselves.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Duo muttered, straightening. His face was bright red with exertion. Sweeping his hair from his face, he looked at Wufei with a leery grin. “I have more endurance and stamina in other areas... wanna see?”
Wufei refused to blush, giving him a regal expression that displayed his choice in the matter. Duo simply laughed it off.
In the control room, Quatre sighed heavily and watched as Trowa located the little girl. As soon as he did, the hologram faded away, leaving behind the darkened room of towers. The trio were making their way back to the control room when the back door opened, and he glanced over his shoulder to see that it was Heero.
The Asian looked at him in surprise as he removed his jacket and gloves, glancing over as Wufei entered the room.
“Dr J finish his speech?” Wufei asked in inquiry.
“Utterly useless. I ended up moving the furniture around in his apartment,” Heero said bitterly, an angry scowl on his face.
Wufei chuckled, and set to work on the laptop again. After inputting his choices, the room was once again lit up with a hangar that looked to be set in space. True to that, he heard twin shouts of surprise from the room as gravity was lost.
“You dream too high, Wufei. We aren’t going to space,” Heero snorted, shaking his head.
“But it might come in handy, Yuy. Do you want to join?”
“No,” Heero answered, glancing at Quatre.
Wufei lifted an eyebrow, walking away from the laptop. Without saying a word, but his expression saying everything, he walked out into the room.
Heero walked away from the pile of coats that sat near the door, and took the other chair next to Quatre. The silence was heavy between them both as they watched Trowa chase Duo around in Chihuahua form, Wufei erupting into laughter. They had obviously lost focus of their ‘mission’ and were intent on having fun. Turning away from the screen, Heero studied Quatre’s profile, taking in the harsh angles and shadows that marred his face. Once Quatre realized that Heero was staring at him, he glanced over, feeling his gut tighten as he managed to lock his eyes with the Asian’s.
There was a loud thump from the window, and both looked over to see that Duo had clasped both hands around his eyes, and was trying to peer in. Unable to see anything, he opened his mouth wide and blew against the glass. Wufei was there to drag him back by his hair, and the simulation changed once more, into something that had all three falling to the floor.
Heero looked back at Quatre, who looked down at the panel, tracing the metal with a fingertip. Reaching out, Heero brushed his fingers through the white strands of Quatre’s hair, quietly marveling at the softness. His fingers then fell over the back of his neck, brushing over the bump of his spine, and over the collar of his shirt. Trailing down his back, Heero watched Quatre’s profile with an intent gaze of his own, then curled his fingers through the material of his shirt, pulling at the blond.
Quatre hesitated for a few moments, then left his chair, letting Heero guide him. The muscled mutant pulled him down onto the chair with him, forcing him to sit on his lap. He grew uncomfortable and stiff as Heero’s arms wrapped around his body, holding him tightly. His back was rigid when he felt Heero’s head resting upon it, feeling his cheekbone pressed against his spine.
A shout from the control room startled the blond, making him look up as he saw that Duo was currently battling what looked to be a giant ogre armed with a ridiculously large hammer.
Wufei was shouting directions at him from the side, and Trowa was lounging atop of a metal crate, looking ready to fall asleep. The picture was ridiculous, actually, and made Quatre’s lips twitch as he wondered at its reality. He felt Heero’s hands move, sliding up his stomach and over his chest, rubbing with a tender caress that made the action feel good. He swallowed hard and watched as the ogre went after Trowa, who just barely avoided a hammer to the head.
Duo was trying to hide, but Wufei was preventing that, holding tightly onto his jacket and roaring instructions while Trowa played with the ogre. Quatre couldn’t imagine himself being part of that group as he sat on Heero’s lap, feeling his body tremble with the mutant’s caresses. He couldn’t imagine being any other way, playing any other role than one of the whore. He felt himself swallow again, feeling the telltale bulge rising underneath him. For a second, he really didn’t want to respond to that. But the more hardened and weathered part of him knew that he’d better work to please before Heero grew angry with him. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to grow pliant and soft as his hands reached behind and between them to manipulate Heero’s erection.
It was nearly an hour later when Duo, Wufei and Trowa breezed back into the control room. All of them were breathing heavily and looked flushed from their work-out.
Trowa immediately paused, sniffing the air and then looking at Heero suspiciously.
“Well, I guess we’re done for the night,” Wufei sighed, shutting off the program. “Heero? Are you sure you don’t want to work-out? O mentioned they installed new programs. Do you want to try one?”
“No. I’m good.”
“I’ll bet you are,” Trowa muttered.
“You should try again, Quat!” Duo said, looking at the blond. Quatre shook his head silently, playing with the sleeves of his shirt, and Duo frowned at him. His eyes snaked over to Heero, then back again. He opened his mouth to say something when Wufei’s voice cut through the noise.
“Let’s go to dinner. I’m starving.”
“We ate before we came here, Wufei.”
“I’m hungry, Trowa.”
“Then eat some fucking meat!”
“I’m hungry, too!” Duo chirped loudly, waving his hand.
“So am I,” Heero chimed in, rising from his chair. “We’ll go to that diner a couple of blocks away. They’re open twenty-four hours.”
“Fine, fine...” Wufei sighed as they gathered their jackets and things, and he began inputting the security code to lock up the Hangar. Hearing the telltale clicks of the protection system moving into place, he followed the others out the door.