Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The Road to Kindness ❯ Surgery Part 22 ( Chapter 29 )

The Road to Kindness

Chapter 7

Part 22

 

 

At least last time Duo had been so drugged up he didn't really remember the surgeries, the longhaired boy thought bitterly, as the nurse and Heero helped him sit on the table. Besides that little fact, Duo felt exactly like he had the last time he had been in this miserable place. He immediately didn't recognize the room, which was a plus. Of course the last time he had had surgery, it had been a pretty serious thing, so he shouldn't be as scared as he had been then, wondering if he was going to die, right as he finally found Heero again, but also terrified of the intense pain in his side. That pain, probably more than the drugs they had given him at the time, was what had wiped his memory. Everything had been so foggy and gray, but intense. He had almost been screaming when they had taken him away from Heero to try to stop the internal bleeding and after that… the pain had gotten so bad, he couldn't remember any details, just that feeling that there was no way a human being could survive that much agony.

This time was different. His shoulder was searing, but the pain was bearable, just not welcome. The bleeding was finally starting to slow, the only real thing of discomfort being that the bullet was still inside of him, Wes's bullet. It was different than last time; he knew that, so why was it so hard for him to not get lost in the past, to think that he had never left the hospital in the first place. What Ms. Schbeiker had said was right, it seemed like he was always getting hurt. He had gotten used to it actually, though his weakness was more painful to him than his actual injuries and he hated himself for it, for his incapability to not lean on Heero and his other friends. He used to be able to handle things like this. How many times had Wes struck him, whipped him, beat him into a quivering mass of bruises and blood, how many times had he done things to him that were so sick and cruel that Duo shuddered just to remember them? So why was his struggling with this, with the knowledge that Wes had shot him? Why did his heart hurt at a betrayal that wasn't even really a betrayal, but just more of Wes's disturbing mind games?

He had gotten used to Wes's abuse. It had become something comfortably familiar to him, even if he did hate it. Beatings, rapes, humiliation… it had become as normal to him as breakfast in the morning was to people like Heero and Quatre. He had come to expect it, to the point where Chris's kidnapping and Wes's stalking wasn't as shocking as it was to Heero. No, what was throwing him for a loop, was the injuries his friends had gotten, all because of him. He could take the pain and wounds on himself, but how could he ever accept them on the people he loved? The very people he was trying to protect… but he had failed them. He couldn't separate them from his old life, no matter how much he tried. It was all his fault… but they didn't blame him. He couldn't even fathom that. All logic said that he was a bad person and he should be punished. Wes had punished him for much less, and this was something that Duo understood as truly wrong, so why weren't they angry at him? Why did they still care for him after he had done?

Duo glanced over at Heero, who was still standing by his side, waiting for the doctor to come so they could get the messy bit finished. He couldn't cope with it. Heero had suffered so much for him, but he was here, not scolding or yelling or hitting, just here, ready to give comfort where Duo didn't deserve. What had he done to gain this boy's unwavering devotion? He was scum, pure and simple, but Heero didn't seem to think that. He had thought that Heero would hate him for Boston because until Heero, everyone he had known in his life, maybe with the exception of Shi and Solo and the others, would have hated him for it. They would have condemned him, left him there to die, but here Heero was. He had told Wes that he would protect Duo, no matter what, and in that moment, there had been no hatred in Heero's eyes for Duo, only an incredible resolution backing up his words. It made Duo want to go back over the last few weeks and try to find the evidence of Heero's anger with him that, until now, he had been so sure of.

He had pushed Heero away, thinking that he hated him, that Heero believed that Duo had let him down, just like Duo had believed, and he was too much of a coward to face that anger, that disgust. Heero had seen him being raped. Maybe he had told Heero about his past, but that was nothing compared to actually seeing the slut that Duo had once been; maybe the slut that he still was, deep down inside. How could he ever face Heero, knowing he had seen that moment, feeling as ashamed as he was? He never wanted his best friend to see that ugliness in him. But Heero wasn't running away. He had begged for his solid, protective guidance and Heero had given it to him without hesitation. Was the broken relationship that Duo had seen really there, or had he created it because it was easier to understand Heero hating him, than caring for him so much, that even something as terrible as that couldn't push him away?

Maybe Wufei really was right after all and it was easier for him to see the bad things in people, because that was what he had always known, than to accept, even for a second, that the people in his life truly loved him and wanted to help him. Maybe he was pushing Heero away out of terror, not of him hating him, but of loving him. Love… he could understand pain and hate and perversion… but when had he ever understood love? You had to witness such a thing to understand it. Maybe it had come too late in his life for him to welcome it. Maybe it was too late for him to open his heart to anything but coldness. He hated that part of him. It was the same part that, when Wes had come after him, had been screaming at him to go back to Wes, because Wes claimed to love him, but it wasn't the love that Heero and Name were offering to him, which was petrifying and strange, like an alien creature in his midst. Wes's love was twisted and wrong; it made Duo's heart feel like something was eating away at it, while Heero's made him feel things that he had never known existed, at least not for him.

He had always thought that he was above such things, love and affection, that they were made for better people than him. He had lived his entire life, longing for love, but never dreaming of it, because he had accepted it as a lie. Now, he was finding out that his lie was a lie. He had been lying to himself to make himself feel better. It was easier to believe you can never have something that is hard to achieve, than to live wondering why you've never been able to see it. If love didn't exist for him, that was fine, but the thought that he had simply been denied it, when it had been possible all along, ripped his heart to shreds. He didn't dare reach for it, because now, he was terrified that his initial beliefs had been right. He was finally experiencing affection's warm glow, but it was blinding him and he was struggling with the decision to wait for his eyes to adjust or slither back to the comforting darkness once again.

But that idea wasn't really accurate was it? Even if he returned to the dark, he would always remember the light. He would remember how warm it had been, how it had cradled him and loved him and how the darkness could never possibly compare. It would haunt him until his death, his love for Heero, and his love for Name. Even if he returned to Wes, he would never forget how they had made him feel, and he would never stop yearning for them. Hadn't he told Name once that he hadn't dared to dream because he had understood that, if he did, even for a second, it would destroy him? How could he go back to that hated world, unable to stop dreaming? It would drive him insane.

He couldn't go back. He could never go back to what he was, what Wes had made him. Those things were still inside of him, they always would be, but what Name had made him was there, too. His nightmares were intermingled with the desires Heero's mother had instilled in him. Even if he went back to Wes, he could never survive that life again. And now he was stuck in between fear and desire, between light and darkness. He wasn't even sure what he wanted anymore. He didn't want to die, but he was terrified of the future. The only desire that was even tangible to him was his desire to protect his family, from himself if he had to. His fingers reached for the black bruise on Heero's neck, caused by his ex-guardian.

“Heero,” he whispered, his voice filled with sorrow and guilt, “I'm so sorry.”

`For so many things,' he thought to himself, `For getting you hurt again and again, for being unable to protect you, for being so damn weak I have to drag you into this place, which only brings up terrible memories for you.'

To Duo's surprise, Heero gave him a small, but honest smile, and wrapped his hands around Duo's fingers, keeping him from touching the bruise.

“It's alright, Duo,” he said warmly, “There's nothing for you to apologize for. I'm scared too, but Dr. Stark will fix you up and we'll go home, ok?”

Duo's violet eyes were wide with Heero's promises and he suddenly realized how much he had missed that warm tone. In that moment he almost cried, but he denied himself that relief. Heero had forgiven him, again. How had he ever thought that Heero was capable of hating him? Heero was so kind, so perfect… he would never have that ugliness inside of him. Even back then, when Heero had thought that Duo had betrayed him, he had gone looking for him. He had saved him. It was exactly like that now. As long as Heero was here, holding his hand, he could survive anything, even Wes…

The moment was shattered by Stark finally showing up, accompanied by another nurse. He looked at Heero and Duo in annoyance, which immediately set Heero on edge, Duo being too tired to deal with the doctor.

“This is beginning to be a habit with you, Mr. Yuy,” Stark sniped, irritated with Heero's constant bending of the rules.

“Just get the damn bullet out of him already,” Heero snapped back.

Heero wasn't entirely sure why, but he really didn't like Duo's doctor. Maybe it was the snide way he looked at him, or his pompous attitude, but the man made Heero's hair stand on end. But no matter how he felt, Stark was a great doctor; he had saved Duo's life during a time when it had seemed like his best friend would surely die, so how could he hate him? Stark made a small noise, but didn't say anything further. The doctor examined the tools on the tray near the table Duo was sitting on and when he found them satisfactory, he turned to Duo with a scanner in hand. Without a word, he examined Duo's bullet wound, making more small noises. Heero was immediately annoyed by the man. The doctor that had treated Duo for his eye problem had instinctively understood Duo's fears and had explained everything before hand. Either Stark was oblivious to how scared Duo was right now, and with his shaking Heero didn't see how he could not notice it, or the doctor plain didn't care. He was plain getting fed up with the hospital. The only sympathetic person they had met here was Wufei's mother.

“What are you going to do?” the Japanese teen demanded.

Stark gave him another annoyed look.

“His bullet wound looks clean enough that major surgery won't be necessary. I'm going to scan his shoulder to find the exact location of the bullet. We'll be giving him a local anesthetic, get the bullet out without any cutting, though it will depend on where the bullet is, and prep him for a transfusion. With his blood type, we're well prepared for it. Considering how much blood he's lost, he'll probably have to stay overnight, at least. His condition has been made worse by his anemia, so it all depends on how stable he is after the transfusion.” Stark explained.

He moved the scanner over Duo's shoulder and this time, the noise he made was more positive.

“Good,” he remarked, “The bullet is in direct alignment with the entry wound and it hasn't hit any major areas. It's stuck in his shoulder bone, but because it's aligned perfectly, I won't have to cut, just pull it out.”

Heero sighed in relief. It would probably still be unpleasant for Duo, but at least he wouldn't have to deal with another surgery. Stark picked up a needle from the tray and approached Duo with it. Immediately, Duo flinched and instinctively scooted back a little, trying to get away from the needle.

`Please not that. Cut me, stab me, burn me, anything but that…' he thought in insane fear.

“If he won't stay still, I'm going to have to strap him down or give him a sedative,” Stark warned Heero, “I can't have him moving during this.”

“He's fine,” Heero growled at Duo.

Heero hadn't let go of Duo's hand and he gave it a small squeeze, gaining Duo's attention. He didn't like how pale his friend was and instantly remembered how Chris had injected Duo, understanding Duo's fear of needles and drugs. This needle was to lessen Duo's pain, to make the procedure more bearable, but that did nothing to lessen Duo's fear. That fear went up even further when Stark used a scalpel to cut away the shoulder of Duo's now tattered t-shirt.

“Don't look,” he soothed.

If Duo had to watch the needle go in, Heero was sure it would cause him to have a panic attack. He placed his other hand on the side of Duo's face, moving his head to rest on his shoulder so he wasn't looking at the doctor at all. Duo let him, trusting Heero to know what to do. Duo let his eyes drift closed, pressing against Heero's warmth, heavily contrasted by the cold of the table. Stark gave them a strange look, but didn't say anything about the contact. He quickly sterilized a patch of skin near the entry wound and slipped the needle into the area. Duo winced as he felt it go in and squeezed his eyes shut. He similarly squeezed Heero's hand, hard enough for the taller boy to feel his knuckles grind together, but Heero didn't care.

It was terrible, but Heero was deliriously happy. Duo was in pain and terrified, and he was happy. He hated himself for it, but he was. Duo was talking to him. For the first time in weeks, Duo was touching him and hadn't once flinched from him since they had entered the hospital. He was actually seeking him out, leaning on him, and right now it was like things had always been. It felt like his heart was going to explode with sheer joy, and sheer sorrow, because he knew that as soon as Duo stopped being scared, he would push him away again, and why shouldn't he? He had let Duo get shot, electrocuted, and harassed by a man that Heero had promised him he would never see again. That promise had been so stupid, Heero understood now that Wes was not going away so easily. But the second he had seen the bastard, had gotten his very first look at the monster of Duo's childhood and teenaged years, he had felt this incredible surge of rage and protectiveness. Listening to Duo speak about his abuser, he had promised himself that if the two of them had ever met, he would kill Wes. He didn't care what happened to him afterwards, Wes was going to die.

And he had let him get away. He had looked at him and had thrown thoughts of danger to the wind, attacking the man like a rabid wolf. He had the bruises to prove it. It had been three against one, once Wufei had gotten back to his feet, but Wes had gotten off without a scratch. It was… unforeseeable. He had put so much importance on his own strength; he had never imagined that Wes would be able to overpower them so easily. He had felt like an insect trying to sting a bear. He tried to imagine Duo, at a mere seven years old, being raped and abused by the man, pinned under his muscled body, and felt like throwing up. It had been bad enough before, but now that he had seen the man, that image was complete and haunting. Duo had been so helpless… how could the violet eyed boy possibly blame himself for his rape and enslavement when Heero, Trowa, and Wufei hadn't been able to bring the man down? He just felt so useless… all he could do was hold Duo's hand and hope that it was enough, but he didn't feel that it was. He wanted to kill Wes and Chris, but he was faced with failure at each turn. He was unable to avenge Duo, let alone protect him. How could he have ever believed that he had any power?

Wes, Chris, and his mother had power. They had proven that to him, but he was just a kid. Even with his family's name and money, he was nothing. No, he was Duo's best friend and that title carried with it a huge responsibility. He had meant what he had said to Wes, even if he was powerless; he would protect Duo, no matter what. Seeing Duo getting shot hadn't destroyed that urge, that resolve, and that was a victory, wasn't it? Wes had meant to ruin Heero's desire to protect Duo, faced with his own failure, but he would never stop protecting Duo. Even now, there was nothing he could do to take away Duo's fear and pain, but he wouldn't abandon him. He would rather Wes kill him than ever abandon Duo.

Stark injected the anesthetic into Duo's shoulder and deposited the needle into the used bag. The drug was quick acting, making Duo's shoulder go numb, but Duo still clutched at Heero's shirt when Stark used what looked like a pair of tweezers to probe into his shoulder wound. Why had Wes done this? Duo couldn't stop thinking about that. Maybe he could understand Wes's tenacity in trying to get him back. He was pretty damn sure that the man had never been in love before, or at least, what Wes saw as love. He still wasn't entirely convinced of that love.

With Heero holding his hand and letting him cling on to him like this; it was hard seeing Wes's love as any kind of comparison. The man had stalked him, had claimed that he loved him, but then… then he had shot him, for no reason other than to attack Heero. He hadn't punished him, he had used him. Why... why did that make him feel betrayed? Why did it hurt so much, to see that smile on Wes's face and how easily he had fired that shot? He should be used to such abuse, but that was just it. He was used to Wes hurting him because he was pissed off or Duo needed to be punished, but he had done this for the sheer joy of it. He had seen Heero's concern for him and had attacked them for it. Wes had shot him because it was fun and he knew it would mess with them.

It was those games that Duo had never really gotten used to. Wes punishing him was easily understood, he was even able to understand Wes's physical abuse because of his temper, but when he hurt him, without any warning, because it was… it was fun, he could never understand that. That was the only reason why they had all survived. Killing people was business to Wes, but this, letting them know that he had absolute power and control over them and that he could insert himself into their lives at any moment, was nothing but a mind game. And a cruel one at that. He could have easily killed his friends in revenge, but he had let them live, so they could constantly be in fear of him.

Tears started to stream down Duo's cheeks as the enormity of the situation hit him. When Name had taken him in, Duo had tried to believe that he would never see Wes again, that he was finally free of him. Yes, Wes's continued existence had scared him back then, but he had felt safe. The Yuy's house was a fortress, his job, his school, and his current life could not be penetrated by his old life. He had truly believed these things. Then Chris had destroyed everything. Duo had begun to realize that being with his friends was not enough. In fact, being with them didn't protect him; it just put them in danger. But once they had returned to Maine, he had, foolishly, thought that he was safe again. That the house, Name… they would protect him from Wes.

He had been wrong this entire time, he had been so wrong. He wasn't safe; he had never been safe, which meant that his friends had never been safe. Wes could come for him whenever he wanted, in the dead of the night, right into his room. How could he possibly continue living knowing that Wes still, after all this time and everything that he had lost and suffered, had such an immense control over him? He didn't notice Heero looking at him in alarm as he began to sob, overcome with a feeling of utter helplessness and frustration. Would he ever be free? He had thought that he was, that he could continue on without seeing Wes again, that he could exist in the same world with the man without ever being under his thumb again. But now it was clear, for as long as they were both alive, Wes would be there. He would never stop being the man's slave, not until Wes died.

“It's just a side affect of the drug,” Stark assured Heero, “It doesn't happen often, but with his anemia-,”

“No,” Heero interrupted, looking more and more upset as Duo continued to cry against him, “It isn't the drugs.”

He had been waiting for this to happen. He hadn't needed Trowa warning them about the possibility of a panic attack, he had known the second that Wes had shown up that Duo was heading for one, he had just hoped that it wouldn't happen before Duo was patched up. He was worried, incredibly worried, about what was going on in Duo's head, what Wes's cruel return into his life was going to do with him, but what could he possibly do to help him when he wasn't even sure if everything was ok between them?

The clang of the bullet dropping into the dish on the tray was so similar to the time that the sliver of bone had been removed from Duo's eye that Heero suddenly flashed to it. It was just another terrible thing that Wes had done to him, Heero thought. Was there no end to the abuse that the man was going to put the boy Heero loved through? Duo continued to cling to Heero as Stark bandaged the bullet wound and set up the transfusion. Duo flinched again during the procedure, hating the feeling of the I.V. being inserted into his arm. But the procedure went without any more hysterics and it wasn't long before Heero was helping Duo back into the wheelchair and Duo was brought into a hospital room so he could rest. Throughout all of this, Duo didn't let go of Heero's arm. His grip on him only tightened when he saw the much hated hospital bed. The only place on the planet that he hated more was Wes's bed, the place where his soul had finally shattered. He was struck, like he had been the last time he had been in this place, by a feeling of exhaustion, that he should just give in and do what he was told because he couldn't muster up the strength to fight.

Duo fell into that feeling, letting the nurse dress him in a hospital gown and settle him into the bed. She hooked up the bag of blood that was still being pumped into him on the I.V. stand along with other bags that Duo didn't recognize and he had to fight against the urge to rip the I.V. needles out of his arm. He hated them, that feeling of a needle in his arm that he knew wasn't coming out any time soon. It was like an unscratchable itch. Tiredness filled him. He didn't want to sleep because he knew he would dream, but once he felt Heero's hand on his head, soothing him, his eyes drifted shut and he couldn't fight it anymore.

Heero smiled softly as Duo finally fell asleep, exhausted emotionally and physically, but inside, Heero was filled with sorrow. Duo was asleep and taken care of, so his job was done. This wasn't like before, when Duo had been in pain and going through withdrawal. He hadn't asked him to stay this time. He hadn't asked him to go either, but how could he possibly guess at Duo's emotional state right now? He didn't understand what Duo was going through, he couldn't. He could try, but he would only fail. What if he staid and Duo hated him for it? But… what if he left and Duo needed him? He was being taken care of though, and if Duo needed him, he would come back to him. But right now, he didn't know what Duo wanted and all he could do was back off and hope that Duo would reach out again. If he didn't… he didn't want to think about that. He couldn't go back to before, not after this. He needed their friendship back. More importantly, this situation had made it abundantly clear to him that Duo needed him. Even if Duo pushed him away, he needed him, and that was what mattered, more than Duo's desire to push him away.

He followed Stark out of the hospital room, giving Duo one last glance as he left him alone under the nurse's care. That action helped him to separate the past from the present. He didn't think he had spent any time away from Duo the last time they had been here. Duo wasn't as weak and sick as last time either, but he felt like splinters of wood were piercing his stomach as he left that room. He still felt like he was abandoning him.

“I expect your mother will be here soon,” Stark pointed out and dryly and, not for the first time, Heero wondered what the doctor's problem with his family was.

“Of course,” he said defensively, “She's Duo's guardian. She has Duo's insurance card too.”

That had been a sweet moment between his mother and Duo, when she had come home with the documentation she had gotten for him when they had decided to take him in. He often wondered what sort of money and lies his mother had had to use to get Duo health insurance, but it sure came in handy. Hell, just the awed, teary look Duo had given his mother when she had showed him the insurance card had been worth it. Duo expected so little out of them, it made Heero want to give him the stars and the moon, just to see that look. Even if that look was sad, because no one should be so happy over something so tiny. Stark spun on his heel and marched out and Heero immediately put the man out of his mind, going back to the waiting room.

The second he stepped into the room that had quickly become a scene of his nightmares, Heero remembered that terrible, wonderful night when he had finally found Duo, only to discover how sick and injured he was. He had waited in this room for news that Duo had died, all because of his stupidity and stubbornness. How could he have ever believed that Duo had betrayed him, that he had wanted to use him and steal from him? That accusation seemed so silly now, it made him wonder if he had gone temporarily insane, but Duo made him feel that way, constantly. He had to remind himself that this time was different; Duo wasn't going to die, but that sentiment didn't make him feel much better. Wufei, Quatre, and Trowa were in the waiting room, already sitting in the chairs and Trowa was drinking coffee from a Styrofoam cup. Wufei was looking better than he had, no longer curled around his stomach. Heero gently touched his own bruised neck, but the pain didn't bother him. It had been scary when Wes had hit him and he, temporarily, hadn't been able to breathe, but he had been too busy trying to kill Wes at the time to care.

Sitting down in the hard chair next to Trowa, Heero rubbed tiredly at his eyes. No matter how much he told himself that things were different than last time, he still felt that the past was repeating, that he was failing Duo over and over and over…

“What happened?” Quatre demanded, “Is Duo ok?”

“Did he need surgery?” Trowa asked in a calmer tone.

Heero shook his head.

“The wound was clean enough that they didn't need to cut the bullet out,” Heero explained, his tone turning bitter, “It looks like Wes is a good shot.”

It seemed weird saying that considering that Wes's target had been their friend.

“Well, at least he didn't use a hollow point,” Wufei said angrily.

Heero shuddered, thinking of the mess a hollow point bullet would have made of Duo's shoulder.

“Or an echo,” Quatre mused, also upset about what could have happened.

“I highly doubt a thug like Wes could have access to a sonic bullet,” Wufei mused.

“But really, what do we know about Wes?” Trowa pointed out, “For all we know, he could have access to a bomb. Sonic bullets are only used for military purposes, but they aren't that hard to get through illegal means. We know that Wes is comfortable with murder and he's a drug dealer and pimp, who knows what else he's involved in?”

The four of them fell silent with that dark thought, until Heero found the courage to speak again.

“They gave him the transfusion,” he told them, “He's resting now. Stark won't know when he can go home until they know how he is in the morning.”

“We can't take home tonight?” Quatre asked worriedly.

He, like the rest of them, knowing Duo's issues with hospitals and their scare, really wanted Duo home and not here.

“They want to keep an eye on him,” Heero sighed.

He wanted Duo home, too. The American was exhausted, weak, and shaky. He could understand why Stark would want to keep him overnight, but he thought they could do just as good of a job as the hospital staff. All he knew was that he wasn't going home. He had left Duo alone in that room, but if Duo needed him, he would be here.

“In other words, there is absolutely nothing we can do. Again,” Trowa murmured.

“We can stay here,” Heero said resolutely, “We can make sure that he knows we won't leave him.”

Quatre nodded in approval at Heero's words.

“Want me to get you some tea?” Trowa leaned in whisper in his lover's ear, “It's going to be a long night. Name should be here soon, though…”

Quatre hesitated, hating the taste of hospital tea, but he also didn't want to fall asleep while Duo might need them. He doubted that they had sedated his friend, so he could wake up at any time. They needed to remain alert. Also, an alarming thought, what if Wes came for Duo tonight? He couldn't possibly fall asleep with that thought on his mind.

“Coffee?” he asked softly, “With lots of cream?”

He hated coffee, it always tasted funny to him, but in this case, he needed the caffeine. Trowa smiled at him and nodded, disappearing from the row of chairs. Heero crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. A great weariness settled over him and he could feel a headache start to form. Why did he have to continuously let Duo down? Why couldn't he be strong enough? He wished his mother was here. Sleep started to wrap around his brain. He heard Wufei say something to him, but he didn't hear it.

 

*****

 

Heero awoke to an intense, bright light shining into his eyes. He squinted, bringing his hand up to wipe across his eyes. Once his vision cleared, he wasn't quite sure what had woken him. White walls, white ceiling, white overhanging lights, and a white, tiled floor greeted him, but it was the same thing as when he had first fallen asleep. The hospital lights were just as bright as they had been, the only difference in the world around him was that the sounds of the hospital seemed missing. He couldn't hear the clicking heels of nurses, the squeaking, metal wheels of surgical carts, or the chatter of anyone around him. He couldn't even hear the intercom, which was usually droning on and on.

Heero sat up sharply and looked around him. It wasn't just the nurses and doctors, his friends were missing, too. Quatre, Trowa, and Wufei were no longer sitting next to him in the waiting room. He was all alone. He got to his feet quickly, his heart pounding in fear. There should be someone, anyone here. And it felt late to him, like he had been there half the night, at the very least. Had something happened to Duo, and that was why his friends were missing? But that didn't make any sense. If something had happened, they would have woken him, and it didn't explain why there were no nurses or other hospital staff around. Heero strode down the hall to the hallway where Duo's room was.

Perhaps it was a little absurd. His friends were missing, and his mother, too, really, since she have been here by now, but all he could think about was making sure that Duo was ok, that he hadn't disappeared too. As he ran to Duo's room, he tried to think of any reason why the hallway and waiting room, maybe even the entire hospital, would be empty. He passed by open rooms, but even the hospital beds held no one. He was completely alone. Had there been some sort of… incident? A fire or bombing or something? But no matter what he thought of, it didn't make any sense that he would be left behind. On the way to Duo's room, he didn't see anyone. Duo's room was closed and Heero didn't know why, but it made his stomach tighten unpleasantly.

He opened the door and stepped inside. Unlike the rest of the hospital, all the lights in Duo's room were switched off. Heero couldn't even see the green light of the heart monitor, which was definitely strange. Even more bizarre was the moonlight that was spilling through a window that Heero couldn't remember being in Duo's room earlier. No, he was certain that Duo's room hadn't had a window, anymore than the moon tonight was the deep orange that the light was as it illuminated the room. In his entire life, he had only seen one moon like that, on the worst night of his life, over five years ago. It was that moon, more than the fear of Duo not being in the bed or that he really was alone that made him hesitate in the doorway. It was the sound of soft breathing and something else that he couldn't quite hear clearly enough to name that made him walk inside, up to the bed.

The breath whooshed out of his lungs and a permanent feeling chill filled him. His hands shook as his blue eyes peered through the mix of shadows and light towards the bed and he took stumbling steps towards it.

“Daddy?” he whispered, but his voice was not of an almost eighteen year old, it was the voice of a child.

Blue eyes, the same exact shade as his own, peered up at him through unruly hair, set in a face that he had known so very well, very long ago.

“Heero, baby, why are you standing in the dark?” a familiar voice asked, it's mere sound making tears track down Heero's cheeks.

Heero fell to his knees in front of the hospital bed.

“Dad…” his voice came out wispy, like it wasn't real.

He desperately reached out to touch what he was sure was his father's cheek, but stopped still when he noticed that the cobalt eyes didn't track his movement. They were flat like those of a doll's. He jerked back to his knees as though he had been terribly burnt. What was he doing? His father was dead… had been dead for five years…

A sob pierced through the still of the room and Heero immediately, filled with a burning hope, looked at his father's body, but his eyes were just as flat and lifeless as before. Heero glanced over to the other side of the bed nervously, wondering if he had been hearing things, but it came again. A deep sob, but liquidy, like someone sobbing while deeply immerged in water. He didn't want to leave his father's side. He was dead, but he couldn't leave him… not after seeing him after all this time… but the continued sobs dug at his heart like hundreds of needles of ice. He walked to the other side of the bed and felt bile rise in his throat.

Duo was kneeling on the floor, but it wasn't Duo… yet it was. The boy he loved was impossibly young, six or seven years old. Even at his young age, Duo's hair was long. It fell loose around his shoulders, a beautiful waterfall of cinnamon, fire, and gold. His young body was naked, blood pooling underneath him and on his thighs, in such an amount that Heero thought that the boy couldn't possibly still be alive. His tiny body, emaciated and worn down by malnutrition and heavy bruising, shook and shuddered with his sobs. The child finally seemed to realize that Heero was watching him and his head shot up. Heero nearly gasped at the vivid, gorgeous violet eyes looking at him, and the desperate fear in them.

“Help me,” the child sobbed brokenly, “Please help me.”

Heero fell to his knees for the second time, his jeans soaking in Duo's blood. This child was Duo, his Duo… and there was so much blood… protectiveness filled him and he wrapped his arms around the little boy, cradling him in his lap, trying to protect him with his older, stronger body, but as blood splashed onto his legs, it seemed like it was pointless. He tried to get the blood to stop, his actions frantic and insane. He pulled the sheets off the bed, not even thinking of his father anymore. It was useless though. No matter how much blood he cleaned up, more poured out of his Duo's body, seeming like it would never stop. Heero put the boy on the floor to try to get at the blood better when spider web patterns spread over Duo's pale skin, the color of red so deep, it looked black in the lack of light.

Duo's eyes widened as he looked at Heero, almost in betrayal, as though he couldn't understand what was happening to him. Thick blood suddenly spilled out of his mouth and down his neck. Heero felt the urge to scream as the child bent double and vomiting a huge stream of blood onto the white floor.

“Duo!” he finally gave in to screaming.

A strong hand clenching the back of his shirt pulled him away from the grisly scene. Heero came up fighting, ready to kill whoever was taking him away from his love. Blue eyes, filled with a familiar love and patient kindness, met him and all thoughts of fighting left him in an instant, leaving him weak and helpless, like a little child. His father stood before him wearing, not the suit, or even the hospital gown that he had died in, but the grey sweater Heero remembered his mother had gotten him that Christmas. The very last Christmas that their family had spent whole. Heero also remembered that his father had worn that stupid sweater every chance he could get.

Maybe some married men coasted through their relationships, but not his father. He had truly loved his mother to pieces. Heero remembered how his dad would sweep his mother into his arms when they came home at the end of the day. And he remembered his mother, who played the cold business woman to her associates, would break up into a huge smile and giggle, actually giggle. She hadn't giggled like that since his death. Heero remembered that sweater with a mixture of sweetness and silliness, recalling how every time he had come home from school, his mother would be sitting on the couch, needles in hand, and would constantly ask him if he thought it looked ok. Like a twelve year old would know if a sweater looked ok.

In his memory, his mother had never made anything by hand besides food and he knew that she had struggled learning how to make the thing. Her father and brother had hounded her mercilessly about just buying one, but his mother had insisted on making it by hand, saying that buying a sweater wouldn't mean anything. Heero had made fun of his mother for it, saying it was silly, something that lovesick teenagers would do, but in reality, he had felt pride at how much in love his parents had been. It just made watching his mother struggle through his death all the more painful.

And here his father stood, wearing that sweater. Heero was terrified look at it, afraid that that wonderful sweater would be stained with blood, but once he looked down, he was surprised to find that it was spotless. Those familiar blue eyes were clear and vibrant and alive… Heero found himself crying again. His father looked just like he always had; he even had that kind smile on his face that had always made Heero confess to anything. His mind screamed at him that his father was dead, this thing in front of him was wrong, a zombie, but Heero leapt into its arms. Arms that he had not felt for so long, he cried even harder at the feel of them.

His father's arms came up around him and Heero buried his face in his strong shoulder. He remembered when he had been small enough to sit on those very same shoulders.

“I missed you,” he whispered hoarsely.

He hugged his father even harder.

“Heero,” his father's voice was filled with sadness at his name and Heero felt fear wash over him.

“No,” he begged, his arms tightening further.

He didn't care what his father had to tell him. He didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to hear anything that would make him let go of this man, he would never let go. He loved him… so much… and he would never let go of him again. Had he ever let go of him? It felt like it was only his tight embrace that was keeping his father alive. If he let go… would he turn back into smoke and ash, only kept alive by Heero's desperate love for him?

“Heero,” Alexei's voice was harder, the voice of a father who was ready to scold his son for something serious, “Why are you letting him suffer for your stubbornness?” his father demanded, “Why don't you help him?”

Heero's eyes widened and he pushed away from his father. He didn't even look back at his father as he saw Duo curled up on the ground, now completely covered in blood, his body still, as though he had given his life just so Heero's father could stand there before him, warm and alive. He scooped the child's dead body into his arms, screaming and sobbing like a wolf that had lost its mate.

 

 

*****

 

As Heero awoke in a panic, he nearly bashed his head into his mother's who had been trying to wake him up.

“Heero,” Name gasped in shock, seeing Heero's wide eyed expression.

“What's wrong?!” he demanded, his heart racing from his dream.

Name took a deep breath, not liking the look in her son's blue eyes one bit.

“Heero, settle down,” she demanded.

Heero didn't listen, sure that there was something wrong. He didn't know if it was a carry-over from that strange dream or his mother's sudden presence, but he was just plain sure that she had to have woken him up for a reason.

“What's wrong?” he repeated, seeing the distress in her expression.

Name sighed in surrender. Heero was too stubborn to be convinced with anything but the truth.

“Heero, don't panic,” she began, which only served to make her son even more anxious, “But Duo's nurse just spoke to me. He woke up about five minutes ago and had some sort of… panic attack. They had to sedate him, but he's still-,”

Heero was on his feet, running down the hall, not caring about how his mother was going to end that sentence. All he heard in his head was `panic attack' and `sedate'. Name chased after him with Quatre, Trowa, and Wufei watching the mother and son in bewilderment.

 

*****

 

//Duo didn't remember if he had fallen asleep on the front steps of the apartment. He remembered going out there, he remembered the cat that had come up to him and crying into her fur, but after that was nothing, like he had blacked out. He had to have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew, he was curled up on his side, naked, back in the cage of a bed. He knew where he was instinctively, though someone had cleaned up the blood from the sheets. And it had nothing to do with the fact that it was the first bed he had ever slept in. Duo blinked his eyes open once he realized where he was. Everything was the same as the last time he remembered being in this room, though he tried not to. He tried to build up a solid wall around those memories, but they just kept flooding back on a dark tide. He hugged his knees to his chest, tears building up in his eyes.

He was stronger than this. He could overcome this. He would find a way out of here; he would run and hide, like he always did, into whatever dark hole the monster would never be able to find him in. He had survived so much… hunger and fear and cold and pain, he could survive this… this rape thing, too… couldn't he? Bile rose in his throat as memory upon memory struck against him. He suddenly yearned for the black cat that had snuggled against him, even as he realized how silly that was.

Something at his back shifted and Duo felt the bed dip. He froze, like a wild animal that senses a predator in its midst. A light touch to his back sent him scrambling off the bed, screeching when a large hand grabbed his stick-thin arm and yanking him back onto the bed. He screamed and fought like a wildcat as Wes, also naked, pinned him to the bed with an angry growl. Duo's head rolled to the side from a violet slap that Wes delivered to the side of his face. He stared at the wall, tears dripping down his cheeks, one of them already bruising. His eyes were wide in shock, not at the fact that the man had hit him, but by the force of it. It was like the man didn't care at all if he broke him, and why not? He was just a street rat. He came in the dozens and was easily replaceable. He flinched when Wes grabbed him by the chin and forced him to look at him. Duo thought he would go crazy just looking into his rapist's eyes. He suddenly wished that he had taken the chance to kill himself when Wes had left him that day because nothing was worse than this, than waiting for more rapes to happen. How could he possibly do this `job' when he couldn't even last the first time? Even death was better than this black hole in his chest, threatening to consume him with madness.

“Now you listen here, little bitch,” Wes snapped at him, gaining his attention, “This is very simple. We made a deal, just the two of us. I'll give you a place to stay and you do a job for me. In order to that job, I'm going to have to train you. It's just like any grownup job; it can't be done properly unless you become knowledgeable in it. To do that, you're going to have to get very comfortable with me, with naked men, do you understand?”

Duo was frozen by Wes' words. He didn't want to get used to this! How could he ever get used to it?! If he never saw a naked guy for as long as he lived, it would be too soon. Wes slapped him again on the same cheek, making Duo's head ring with pain at the abuse.

“I said, Do. You. Understand?!” Wes snapped.

Duo nodded frantically, dazed by the blow. Wes smiled down at him, but it was the smile of a crocodile.

“Good. You'll be sleeping with me until you've proven that you're used to this. If you can't… I have no use for a whore who can't even sleep with a man,” Wes said, rolling off of Duo.

Duo shuddered, suddenly feeling cold down to his bones. When he felt the much larger man settle down next to him again, every instinct he had told him to run as fast as he could, but staid still, terrified of another blow, of the man deciding that he wanted to fuck him again. He bit back a sob. He would have to control that. He had never cried so much before and wondered where his strength had gone. He had prided himself in being someone that survived anything, but this… he wasn't even sure that he wanted to survive this. He rolled onto his side facing away from Wes, shivering violently. He had never slept naked in his life and felt incredibly vulnerable. Of course, he understood that that was how his new… `master' wanted him to feel. He tried to close his eyes, but the darkness of the room was too scary. He felt completely on edge, waiting for his rapist to touch him, wondering, waiting…

He couldn't close his eyes, couldn't sleep, not as long as that man was close to him, especially not with either of them without clothes. That was all he wanted. Why couldn't he wear something to be completely naked, completely vulnerable? And he hated this bed. It was nice and soft, something that he wasn't used to. He was used to hard cement, cardboard, wood, and scratchy, soiled blankets that occasionally he found in dumpsters. There were even times in the winter that he had no choice but to sleep in those dumpsters, amongst the trash and grime. He wasn't used to the soft, plush blankets and mattress underneath him. It was supposed to feel better, right? But it only made him feel uncomfortable, like he was sinking into a cloud when he was used to something much more solid.

The places he was used to sleeping in, living in, were dirty and hard and sometimes painful, but they had always left him sheltered. A filthy dumpster, a little crack in a wall filled with jagged bits of brick that only a child could crawl into… he hated this bed because it was so out in the open. Let alone the beast that was sleeping next to him, he felt like anything and anyone could come upon him at any moment. He wasn't safe. Duo looked over his shoulder. Wes' eyes were closed and his breathing was more relaxed, like a slumbering bear, slow, but deep. Duo took a deep breath. Still his instincts were screaming at him to run, but he knew that he wouldn't get fair. He knew next to nothing about this man, but he did know that he wouldn't take to being slighted so easily.

When Duo was confident that Wes really was asleep, he rolled off the bed. He didn't make for the door. It was closed and he was sure that the struggle to open it would awake his kidnapper. Instead, he ducked under the bed, curling up there on the hard floor. Even with the knowledge that there was a sleeping dragon above him, Duo found that it was easy to close his eyes now. He had cover, even if he didn't feel safe, he didn't feel so… exposed. Still, it was hours before he drifted off, but even then, it was better than the feeling of Wes at his naked back, even if when he did start shiver on the cold floor.

He should have known better, that it hadn't pissed Wes off so much that he had tried to run away from him as much as just his leaving the bed, but it truthfully never entered his mind. So, when he dragged out of his little hidey hole, he fought like a feral animal, not even realizing what he had done wrong. There was a look fury on Wes' face as he dragged Duo up and grabbed him by his long hair. Duo stopped thrashing at the look, terrified of what the man would do to him if he didn't stop fighting.

“Fucking rat,” Wes snapped at him,” You still don't get it, do you?”

Duo opened his mouth to protest this, to say he was sorry and didn't need to be punished, that he did understand, he just couldn't possibly get used to this, not tonight, but his protests were cut short when Wes dragged him by his hair out of the room. His conviction to try not to piss the man off further was forgotten and he thrashed and screamed at the pain in his scalp. Suddenly, he was brutally dropped inside of the tub in Wes's only bathroom, his limbs flying everywhere as he tried to grab futilely at the edge of the tub. Wes turned the lights on; bathing the bathroom in what Duo thought was an unnatural white light. He had never seen light that bright before except for the sun and squeezed his eyes closed.

“If you're going to disobey me at every turn, I guess I'll start your training now. I was going to be nice and wait until the morning, but I have no use for someone who can't even listen to simple instructions,” Wes growled, “Lesson one, for every rule you break, even the smallest one, you will be punished severely until you get it into that stubborn skull of yours that you aren't a human being anymore, you're a tool, my tool. If you can't do what I tell you to, I'll kill you. There's nothing more useless than a disobedient whore,” Wes turned on the water, his grey eyes piercing as he watched his new acquisition.

Duo yelped as icy cold water hit his naked body. An intense shiver immediately went through him and he tried to climb out of the tub, only to feel a solid piece of steel pressed against his forehead and looked up to see Wes pointing a gun at him. Duo had no idea where the man had gotten it, since he wasn't wearing any clothes, nor did he know anything about guns, but he did remember Wes's comment about killing him and thought it had to be loaded.

“Stay in there until I tell you to come out,” Wes ordered.

Despite his shivers, Duo managed a shaky nod. Either he could freeze in the tub or he could get shot in the head, he didn't see much of a choice there. He wrapped his arms around his shuddering body, nearly convulsing from the cold that felt like he had been tossed naked into a snow bank, and curled up in the tub, feeling the water hitting him like sharp needles. Tears started to drip down his eyes, past his lips that were starting to turn blue, but they were unnoticeable amidst the water. Minutes passed, what felt like hours to Duo, before Duo felt like he was having a seizure and his heart was going to stop.

“Please, please turn it off!” he begged, forcing the words out of his chattering mouth, “It's so cold… so cold.”

With an irritated grunt, Wes switched off the water, glaring down at Duo's still shivering body.

“Your tolerance to pain is embarrassing,” he snapped, “We'll have to work on that before anything else.”

This time when Duo shivered, it was out of fear. Wasn't Wes supposed to be teaching him how to do sex better? What did following orders and coping with pain have to do with it? Sex hurt, Wes had taught him that much already, so why did the man care if he could deal with it or not when he seemed to enjoy making Duo hurt? Large hands that were already starting to become sickeningly familiar to Duo lifted him out of the tub. He let them; shakily walking and allowing himself to be dragged back to Wes's bedroom. He felt like his bones were trying to jump out of his skin and he couldn't tell if it was because of the chill and his wet body, or if it was something else.

Wes flung Duo onto the bed again, this time leaving him alone to grab some things inside one of the many cabinets in the room. Duo hadn't even noticed them and he wondered if you could be in so much pain, so full of things that you didn't want to think about, that you could actually not notice something weird like that. He ignored whatever Wes was doing, curling up on his side and trying to control his violent shivers. He didn't want to be awake anymore, he just wanted to keep his eyes closed and stay there on the bed, not thinking or feeling anything. There were so many things that weren't coming to him, the cabinets, the fact that this room had no windows, that Wes had, at some point, turned on a lamp in the room, or even how his wet hair was sticking to him like millions of silken threads. It all washed over him.

The bed next to him dipped, but Duo staid still, no longer having any kind of urge to fight. It seemed like every time he did, Wes just hurt him more, so what was the point? For the morality of it? He was a street kid; he knew that morality was just a fairytale that people with home told each other to make the world around them seem less cold. Duo knew better. Still, when Wes pushed him onto his back and grabbed both of his arms, Duo's body tightened in readiness to flee. Then he remembered the cold, hard fact that not only did Wes have a gun, he was ten times bigger than him and much, much stronger. Flee… flee where, and how? He lied still, biting his lip as he felt Wes wind something around his elbows and wrists, effectively making him helpless. With the man straddling him, he couldn't kick, either.

When he felt Wes get off of him, he looked over to see what the man was doing. Seeing him fill a syringe with some clear fluid from one of the many vials he had put on the bedside table was not at all what Duo had been expecting. He couldn't understand its presence at the same time that it filled him with terror. He had heard countless stories of street kids and prostitutes alike getting addicted to drugs, either of their own free will, or they had been forced into it in order to control them. He had vowed that he would never be one of those people. It wasn't like he saw the point in it anyway. Everyone said that sex made you feel good, but that had been a lie, so why should he believe that drugs made you feel good, too? Even if they did… he didn't want to get involved with anything that left you a drooling, mindless mess to the point that you wouldn't even fight back if someone tried to mug you. Besides, he really didn't understand why, if you were struggling to feed yourself, you would waste money on something so silly.

It was those thoughts that made Duo flinch away from Wes, but Wes just grabbed his arm and stabbed him with the needle anyway. Duo felt a wave of fear at what the unknown chemical would do to him, followed by revulsion and pain at the feeling of the needle penetrating his skin and slipping inside of him. Why would anyone willing do that to themselves?! He whimpered low in his throat, fighting the urge to thrash. He wanted that needle out and he wanted it out now! It was like some sort of maddening instinct. His body and mind knew that such a thing did not belong in him and had to be removed, like a piece of glass that had gotten stuck at the bottom of your foot. But his arms were bound and Wes didn't seem to be in any kind of hurry to take it out. To Duo's shock, instead of quickly injecting him and taking away the needle, Wes fastened the length of it tightly to Duo's arm with some medical tape, which only made Duo squirm harder, feeling nauseated by the continuous presence of the parasite inside of his skin.

“This is a very special needle,” Wes explained as he finished making sure that the needle wouldn't fall off Duo's arm, no matter how much he struggled, “It will pump this chemical into you every five minutes, so it'll last much longer this way.”

As though the drug could hear what Wes was saying, Duo suddenly felt an incredible agony shoot up his arm. He gave out a gasping scream as he felt the pain spreading along his veins, up his arm into his shoulder and neck and down into his fingers. He turned his head to the side, tears streaming down his cheeks and soaking the pillow that his head was resting on. It… it hurt. It felt like there were worms inside of him, millions of worms, each of them made of fire and blades and they were intent on spreading to every inch of his body.

“Please,” he sobbed, “Please take it out.”

Wes smirked in amusement at Duo's pained expression. It was actually pretty cute. Usually, kids Duo's age made such an annoying fit, blubbering, getting snot and tears all over the place and generally making a nuisance of themselves, but this child's reaction to the drug was downright adorable. Duo saw these thoughts in Wes' expression and felt a brief pang of anger, but compared to the pain he was feeling, which was getting worse as the seconds passed, and Wes' obvious dominance, that anger seemed so small and pitiful.

“This drug attacks the nervous system. I don't expect a stupid rat like you to understand, but in essence, it causes pain without any physical force being involved,” Wes' tone was suddenly annoyingly professional, like a salesman talking about his wares.

`I noticed!' Duo wanted to scream at him, but he clenched his jaw shut.

More than anger he felt, he was terrified. Wes wasn't even considering this something terrible, it was normal to him, so what could he possibly consider `too painful'? Or punishment? After all, he was doing this as a lesson, as training, not to punish him for earlier, so what would he do? He was too scared of finding out to think about disobeying this man anymore. The cold shower hadn't been nearly as bad…

“This is to test your endurance,” Wes continued to explain and Duo was just shocked that the bastard was bothering to explain anything to him, “Most boys your age end up vomiting and passing out with twenty minutes. If you can beat that, we won't have to do this again.”

Twenty minutes… it had only been seconds since the drug had gone in and he already wished that his hands were free so he could claw out his own veins. He felt Wes wrap his hand around the back his neck and pull him to his knees. He felt those fingers curl into the thick hair at the nape of his neck and felt betrayed. He didn't even know why. It wasn't like he knew this guy or what he was into, which, clearly, was pain at the very least. Why had he thought that pain wouldn't be involved in this training business?

“Please,” Duo begged again before he even realized he was doing it.

What was the point in begging this man for anything? He didn't care for him, that was obvious. He was just surprised that Wes wasn't hitting him for the pleading. Wes' hand tightened around his neck, but it was nothing like the painful grip of their first time together.

“I want you to give me a blow job. If you can do it right by the end of the night, I'll take the needle out, the second you show me you can do it,” Wes bargained, “Once you do that, we can move on to something less painful.”

For the first time since Helen's death, Duo felt hope. Bright, shinning hope… It filled him and lifted him amongst the intense pain and he nodded frantically in agreement.

“Good,” Wes said, “Now do it.”

Duo paused, looking down at Wes' lap for the first time. When he had raped him, he hadn't gotten a real good look at the man's dick, he had just felt it when it had sliced through him. It was… big. He wondered how in the hell it had gone inside his small body and he couldn't help but shiver, remembering his fear of the organ. It was just a blow job, though, not fucking, so it had to be easy, right? He just had to open his mouth and suck on it until Wes came, then he was done. But… but it smelled weird and looked weird and just the thought of putting that thing in his mouth made his stomach roll. It was funny, he had eaten things that looked much nastier, but the thought of putting his mouth to that bit of flesh was gross. But he hurt so much… he just wanted it to stop. Duo leaned down and, with a look of disgust, he put the head of Wes' cock into his mouth. Immediately, he almost gagged at the flavor. It was oddly bitter and sweaty. He was suddenly struck with the thought that his blood might be still on it and had to fight not to vomit. Trying as hard as he could not to touch the thing with his tongue, Duo started to suck as hard as he could, hoping that he could bring Wes off quickly.

Wes growled in annoyance at the move and yanked Duo off of him by his bangs. Duo winced at the tug and stared up at him with wide eyes.

“What exactly do you think you're doing?!” Wes snapped, making Duo flinch, “That's not how you suck a man's dick! Don't just stick it down your throat first thing, only a cheap slut does that. Lick it a bit first!”

Duo winced as a rush of agony hit his stomach. The drug was starting to spread into his abdomen now. Licking that thing was the last thing he had wanted to do, but Wes was ordering him to… he leaned back down, this time closing his eyes, and tentatively, so gently that it wasn't almost a non-touch, he licked the side of the blonde's penis. Wes gave out another annoyed sigh and slapped Duo's cheek hard enough to get him to stop, but not to force his head to the side.

“Do you think this is a piece of candy?” he scolded, “I said lick it, now do it properly!”

Duo looked up at him, terrified that he had no idea what to do. Would he be punished for this, too? How could he possibly know what he would or would not be hurt for?

“I… I don't know how…” he said in a tiny voice.

Wes snorted.

“And here I thought you weren't as innocent as you looked. I guess I have to teach you this as well. Fine. Lick the underside of the head, swirl your tongue around it and don't forget the slit. Not too lightly, either, I want to be able to feel it!” Wes ordered.

Duo stared at the member in front of him in confusion. He had no idea what all that meant.

“T-the head?” he asked shakily.

“The big part at the top,” Wes said testily, “The part with the hole in it. That's the slit.”

Wes wasn't sure if Duo's innocence was annoying or cute. He had picked up a street kid instead of just kidnapping some kid that had wondered away from his parents so he wouldn't have to do so much work in training him. Until now, Duo hadn't disappointed him. He had been taking a gamble with Duo's age, but the boy had obviously spent all his life on the streets, or at least understood what sex was and how it worked. He even knew what a blow job was, he just didn't know what to do. That kind of innocence seemed cute, if you were thinking of dating the kid, but in Wes' line of work, men would pay more for a seasoned whore than a virgin. He didn't know if he should be annoyed that he had to work on this boy so much or glad that he had the chance to mold him without destroying any bad habits.

Duo hesitated for a second, but he had been given his orders and he thought that he had some kind of idea what he had to do… besides, the pain in his arm was starting to get unbearable and he knew that the rest of his body wasn't going to be far off. He did exactly what Wes had told him, licking the underside of the head, swirling his tongue around it, and swept the tip of his tongue over the slit on top of it. He was rewarded with a low groan and Wes' fingers tightening in his hair.

“Good,” Wes moaned happily.

The boy was a novice, but once he was given orders, he figured it out pretty quickly. Duo thought quickly as he continued to swirl his tongue around the engorged head. If it felt good to lick underneath, would it feel good to lick the top bit, too? And what if he touched the top, slit, and underneath all at once, would that make Wes happy? Duo decided to test this theory, swiping his tongue from the underside, over the slit, to the top of the head and swiftly moving his tongue back down, in the opposite direction. He repeated this action several times, feeling some sort of strange, bitter liquid leaking out of the slit each time he moved over it and wondered if that was a good thing or not.

Wes glanced down at Duo through slit eyes, shocked by his actions. Shit, but the kid definitely wasn't half bad and he wondered if he really hadn't done this before. He was approaching it like a bright child with a new toy, trying new things out without being told that he had to.

“Good, very good,” he praised, his teeth clenched.

He was going to have to be careful with this kid, he realized. If he was smart enough to figure this out so quickly, he was smart enough to think about other things and have thoughts that Wes didn't want him to have.

“Now, I'll teach you how to really suck. It's just like how I fucked you last night. Put the head in your mouth and slide down, as slowly as you can. Once you get it all in, move up and down, just like thrusting,” Wes told him.

Duo didn't hesitate this time, he just did as he was told, and for a moment, he wondered at it, how he could follow such an order and not even question it. It scared him, it made him wonder what other orders he would come to obey in such a way. He once again did as Wes said, but used his common sense to expand on it. He did try to put all of Wes' cock in his mouth, between the smell, taste, and just the size of it, he was too scared of choking. He managed only halfway down, but he quickly moved back up, hoping that Wes wouldn't notice. As he made his way up, he kept the member inside of his mouth, but swirled his tongue around it like he had earlier, spurred on by more of Wes' deep moans. He kept doing the same thing, though licking in differently places and moving at different speeds. He wasn't sure if it felt better to do the same thing over and over again, or if Wes wanted him to do something different each time, but he thought it was probably more interesting to do different things.

Suddenly, without any indication or warning, Wes grabbed Duo's head with both hands and the dick in Duo's mouth twitched alarmingly. Wes' cum was just as thick and unpleasant in his mouth as it had felt inside of his ass last night, only this time, he could feel how thick it was a lot better, not to mention taste it. He immediately tried to back off of the rod in his mouth to spit out the disgusting load, but Wes kept his head still.

“Swallow it,” he ordered breathlessly, still recovering from his violent orgasm, “From now on, when a man comes in your mouth, you swallow it.”

This time, Duo did almost hesitate, but the longer he waited, the less air he had and he swallowed dutifully. At the feeling of the thick, bitter, slippery mass going down his throat, Duo almost threw up, but he figured that Wes wouldn't take the needle out if he did. Wes let go of Duo's head finally and the boy fell back onto his butt, taking long, deep breaths. Finally! His mind shouted. He had done everything Wes had told him, he had given him a good blow job and he had made him orgasm. Now, the needle would be gone and he would handle everything that had just happened, but right now, the needle would come out, so the rest of it was fine… it would be fine…

Duo laid down on his back the best he could with his arms still tied behind him, trying not to put any pressure at all on the needle, because he was afraid of it. He watched Wes, waited for him to take the hellish thing out. Wes sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on the pair of slacks that he had carelessly tossed onto the floor earlier that night. Duo let loose a restrained breath of relief. That meant he wasn't going to rape him again tonight, right? He frowned when he saw Wes pull two long pieces of red cloth from his pockets. What did he need those for? His violet eyes widened when Wes undid the bindings on his wrists, only to redo them using the red cloth, tying his slender right wrist to his right ankle, which Duo realized in fear made it impossible to move both his leg and his arm and kept his thighs open. Wes did the same to his other side.

“Y-you said you'd take the needle out,” Duo whispered, feeling that weird, prickly sensation of betrayal and petrified that Wes had forgotten about their promise.

Wes' eyes were as cold and unfeeling as stone when he looked at him, making Duo shudder.

“Lesson number three,” Wes said flatly, “People lie.”

A tear tracked down Duo's cheek, still wet from his previous cries, his breath catching in his throat when Wes lightly slapped both of his cheeks.

“No more crying,” he barked, “And don't look at me like that. We still have two more lessons to get through. Endurance and giving a proper blow job are very important, but in this industry, just giving a man sexual pleasure isn't enough.”

`Isn't enough?' Duo wondered in confusion, still stinging from a betrayal that made him want to beat and scream at the man, if only he wasn't absolutely terrified of him, `How can it not be enough? What more is there?'

He still couldn't believe that Wes had done this to him, and that feeling of betrayal, of Wes lying to him just to mess with his head, made him realize that he had trusted him. When Wes had promised him he would take the needle out, he had taken him on his word. He had trusted him. Was it because Wes held all the power here and he didn't really have a choice but to trust what he said, or was it something else? He hated himself so very deeply for that. He deserved to be punished and raped because, for that moment, he had trusted this monster when it had taken him days to trust Sister Helen. What sort of person was he that he could feel that? It was the number one rule of the streets: don't trust anyone, because even your best friend can stab you in the back. So why him, why Wes?

“Some guys get off on the pain, some can't even get hard unless the one they're fucking is hurting. Other guys can't get hard unless their whores are enjoying it, too,” Wes wrinkled his nose in disdain at that, as though he couldn't possibly imagine not getting a boner just because your partner wasn't liking it, too, “These are the two lessons I'm going to teach you now, how to handle the pain and how to like sex. If you blackout during sex, just because it hurts, I won't get paid.”

Duo didn't say anything to that, still staring up at Wes with wide eyes. He couldn't wrap his head around all that. How could possibly like it when someone was in pain, especially to the point where you found it arousing? Sex hurt, but pain wasn't sexual, was it? Was that why Wes didn't seem to care at all when he hurt Duo? Because he got some sort of sexual thrill from it? He laid his head back onto the pillow, closing his eyes. His body was wracked with twitches and shakes from the pain that was now coursing through his entire body. He felt too tired to grudge up any kind of caring for what Wes might do to him at the same time he felt some twinges of fear at the sort of pain he might be talking about. He just felt done in, emotionally and physically. How much fear did he have in him?

He heard a match being lit, but he didn't open his eyes. His body was covered in sweat from the agony and he was just concentrating on controlling his shakes, trying to find some sort of comparison for the pain, though it eluded him. He had been hurt before, but this was different. It was ok if he broke his arm or stepped on some glass, he knew how to take care of that. But what did you do when the pain was buried deep inside of you, somewhere that you couldn't see or touch and the only way to make it stop was to remove a single needle, which you couldn't get at, and the one that had put it there refused to take it out? His back arched in an unpleasant bow, he pulled uselessly at his bindings and let out a hoarse scream as fire burst in his stomach. He writhed and squirmed, clenching his teeth as he nearly threw up with the intense feeling of heat and pain.

At first, he thought it was because of the medication, but it didn't take long for him to realize that the pain was on his skin, not inside of him. He lifted his head to look at his body, his heart racing when he saw a spot of blood-red on his stomach. Had… had Wes stabbed him? His vision cleared from the spots of pain and shock that had been dancing in it and he realized that the red wasn't blood, but a splatter of hot wax that had fallen from the red candle that Wes was holding. There was that feeling of betrayal again. Where the hell did it keep coming from? Wes peeled the cooling wax off of his stomach, but the burning feeling remained. Was this what he had meant by getting used to the pain? Why wasn't he just hitting him, why this… weirdness?

“Stay still,” Wes ordered as he dripped more wax on to Duo's stomach and Duo tried to squirm away from it, “If I miss, it'll just hurt more.”

Duo was suddenly terrified that Wes would end up hitting his genitals with the searing wax because of his thrashing and obediently staid still. Wes nodded a little, happy with Duo's readiness to listen to him, and continued to stain Duo's white skin with the red wax, this time on his chest and neck. Duo bit off a screech when he felt the wax land on his neck and for a second, the heat and pain had made it impossible to breathe. In those moments when he felt the heat hit him, he completely forgot about the pain of the chemical and was only concerned with not throwing up like his twisted stomach wanted him to.

“Why?” Duo finally choked out a mere ten minutes later when Wes took a small break to clean the wax off Duo's skin.

“It's not something I expect you to understand,” Wes said condescendingly with a small smirk, “But some men like this sort of thing. It's S+M, or sadomasochism. It just means that there are some things that cause pain and humiliation that turn guys on. It's one of the benefits of paying for a boy. They can be hurt a lot more than a little girl can. And actually…” Wes looked over at the bedside clock and gave Duo a small smile, “You've lasted eight minutes more than anyone else I've trained at this stage. They usually throw up within two minutes of doing this, or black out,” he said with distaste.

Duo's eyes followed Wes' hand that was holding the candle like a puppy following an abusive owner holding a belt and sighed in relief when the man blew it out and put it back on the bedside table. He didn't realize that he had been crying again until Wes grabbed his shoulder and hauled his bound body into his lap. Duo stared at the shadows behind Wes in shock when the man put one arm around his tiny body, cradling him in his lap, and wiped his tears from his cheeks.

“Ssh,” Wes said and it was oddly… soothing sounding, “I'm sorry, but this is necessary. You should be proud, you did well.”

Fresh tears spilled down Duo's cheeks. He closed his eyes, feeling dark, strange emotions wash over his heart, wrapping around it and invading it. He curled up into a tiny ball against Wes's naked chest. What was he doing? Why was he touching him, talking to him like this? His voice was so soft… almost caring, like he was actually sorry that he had hurt him. Was he? Was he sorry? Duo curled up tighter. He couldn't believe that! If he did… But it felt so nice, that strong arm around him, the touch of a human being that he had gone so long without. Conflicting thoughts warred in him. He wanted to let this man hug him, he wanted to take from him some measure of comfort amongst the terrible pain in his heart that he knew the chemical hadn't caused. He wanted to shove him away in fear, staying as far away from his abuser as possible. He wanted… something… something that was heavy in his chest, but he couldn't put a word to. In that moment, he truly hated Wes. Not because he had hurt him, was hurting him, but because he had made him feel things, want things that he somehow knew were bad and dangerous.

How should he feel? It was so confusing. He wanted someone to tell him, but he was just alone. Wes was holding him closely, but he was completely alone. Wes laid him back onto the bed, undoing the bindings on Duo's wrists and ankles. When the men left him on the bed, all by himself, without removing the needle that was still pumping the chemical in him, Duo wanted to feel surprise or betrayal, but he was too tired to feel anything. His hands itched to grab that hateful needle and yank it out of him.

`Out. Out. Out. Out,' he mind screamed at him.

But he just kept his eyes closed as he heard Wes doing something in the bathroom. What was the point? Even that maddening voice seemed like nothing in comparison to the power that Wes held. If he took it out, the pain would start again. It was so much easier just to obey. For some reason, he started to cry again. //

 

 

 

End Part 22

 

 

Ok, this is just getting insane. In the past ten days, I've written 3 parts, a total of 91 pages. That's just friggin' ridiculous. Maybe someone put speed in my water, I have no idea. That or Nanowrimo put my writing schedule on hyper drive. I keep saying don't expect this tempo to keep up, but it's sure not petering off. Who knows, maybe I'll finally finish Chapter 7 before the year ends.

 

Of course, a month later, that writing steam died out, but only because there was so much to do, and now I can't even work on RTK until my computer gets fixed. Sniff. I guess I'll just work on Poisoned Memories until I can get part 23. If not… well, that would be devastating to have to rewrite that entire part.