Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The Sea in I ❯ XXII ( Chapter 22 )

Unbeta'd

Warnings: Angst, death, violence, references to past NCS and dubious consent in the next chapter.

 

Pairings: 1x2/2x1, and the pen dabbles around a bit

 

AN: I'm later than usual, but here it is. This chapter will more than likely be confusing because it's from Duo's POV and he thinks he's dreaming in the first half and the only one aware that he isn't is Retwa and everyone else.

 

*hugs you all* I'm promise to finish this. Thank you guys for reading this confusing story of mine, favs and reviewing!

 

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Disclaimer: I don't own any of the sexies in Gundam Wing AC, I just love to help them live a little.
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XXII

 

The door creaked open and a loud thump followed. Enough time had passed for the sun to shift and cloak the room in the shadows of late afternoon, but Duo barely noticed time's passing. He stared unblinkingly at the small windows, that suddenly had curtains and his nose itched under the sensory assault of the soapy, clean smell that seemed to rise from every corner of the room.

 

Duo didn't move. He wasn't sure if he was even breathing, but he knew who was coming and what would happen next. He lay on his side in the bed and stared at the window waiting. His pupils were needle points in a sea of stormy, glassy blue violet and hidden under heavy lids.

 

“Duo?”

 

At first, he didn't recognize the whispered-worry laden call as anything other than a prelude to more pain and violation. When the call came again with a firmer tone, he knew it wasn't Jirrad who had entered the room - his prison. His body trembled when he tried to relax. Some of his muscles twitched with the threat of cramping from how tense he had been.

 

A steady shudder overtook him and he glimpsed gloved hands just before they pulled the covers off of him. Duo jerkily shifted his bare legs, trying to curl them toward his chest. He stopped halfway when once muted pain flared to life in his stomach. His vision wavered, but his eyes stayed open, affording him a blurry view of the short tunic he wore where it stopped mid-thigh. His eyes lazily traced the line of his legs, expecting to see the bruises the old man had left behind, but it seemed the healer's salves were potent enough to have nearly erased them all.

 

Duo tried to distract himself from the queasiness and the memories of Jirrad working just as hard to replace the bruises with new ones. He forced himself to focus on his legs. All he could make out was faint discolorations where they had been. Then he could feel where Jirrad's touch lingered on his skin, between his thighs. Duo shuddered, clenching them together.

 

He found that if he stared long enough, he could see the bruises darkening and spreading across his skin. The touches then became as tangible as fingers then became hands that grabbed and squeezed him. Duo tried to will it away, but then the gloved hands were touching him and made it harder for him to separate reality from memory.

 

The healer? He hoped, because the hands seemed noninvasive though Arnau never wore gloves when he treated him. He tried to turn his head to see his handler's face, but his head was too heavy to move. One of the hands hesitated on his thigh, hesitated more than it should have if his handler was the healer, before attempting to pull his legs apart.

 

Blue tinged gray enveloped his sight then receded to the edges as bare fingers brushed back the damp bangs sticking to his forehead. The rough pads traced over his brow and Duo inhaled sharply as a warm pressure bloomed in his chest. He couldn't see the hand on his thigh any more. The gloveless one tilted his head up on the pillow. He felt something tug on his hair and found his handler had pulled it into a messy ponytail that now draped over his shoulder.

 

“Duo, can you hear me?”

 

A head ringed in chaotic, dark chocolate hair with a purplish bruise on one side of his temple came into focus. Duo squinted at the bruise. It opened to a furious red mark and there was matted hair where the blood had dried. His vision flickered in and out of darkness with the flutter of his lashes as his eyes found focus on pale, dusty rose colored lips. They moved forming words he couldn't hear and his eyes rolled up the dirt smeared face to meet familiar deep blue eyes. Duo's breath caught in chest, he never wanted to look away from them again. This was where he belonged, where he escaped when Jirrad came to him.

 

Heero. He felt his throat work then release a strangled sound as he tried to speak. The blue eyes flicked downward then back to him as the warm rough pads caressing his cheek soon stroked the side of his throat. Suddenly, he could breathe easier. There had been a pressure he hadn't noticed before on his throat and with one touch, it was gone. Duo wanted to speak, but he was too lightheaded with relief and too drained to.

 

He knew he had to have been dreaming, because that was the only time he could sometimes find Heero. He was half floating in a familiar cold place in which the pain faded, the room and bed were simply there and the tactile sensation of Jirrad's hands went away.

 

`Ro...th-then…Jirrad's hands… He had never confused the two before. He closed his eyes, but couldn't squeeze them shut like he wanted or submerge himself in the dream instead hovering on the edges. Duo wanted Heero with him, looking at him with those depthless eyes, touching him... Not Jirrad. Duo tried to shrink back, but only managed to jerk in place.

 

H-he's not... Th-this is…?

 

He forced the words away. There was no need for them because they weren't helping him any. Duo knew Heero wouldn't know that Jirrad had done something to his throat to keep him silent. He accepted it as a last attempt by his subconscious mind at escaping - he was letting his dream overlap with reality and replacing Jirrad's face with Heero's.

 

Duo was pulled upright by his shoulders, and then was caught by them when he started to fall back to bed. He dismissed the oddness of it and focused on how much easier it was becoming for him to divorce himself from everything. The bed dipped, a knee then leg pressed against his bent ones as an arm went around his back to better support him.

 

“Can you move?” The voice sounded hopeful but gravelly, as if something had upset him and it was making it hard for him to speak. When his head was tilted up, Duo saw whatever hope dream Heero held on his face crumple. He couldn't be sure if he was remembering Heero's face correctly. This dream Heero's face was naked in its expressiveness, while the Heero he remembered was more reserved. It frightened him and he accepted it to be the dream it had to be.

 

He tried but couldn't get dream Heero's expression to change. Duo looked away from dream Heero's face, what he saw there hurt and he didn't want pain in his dreams. He wondered if he had forgotten what Heero looked like, just like he couldn't remember his own name.

 

Duo felt the side of his head rest against the handler's warm skin. He realized it was his chin when the handler's jaw moved and the faint sound of him gritting his teeth reached his ear.

 

“Blood?”

 

Duo felt a sudden curl of interest in this speaker. It was an innate need he hadn't experienced since he'd first met the boy healer. The speaker was called a cat or something similar, but names along with the memory their faces were slipping from his mind, while wordless thoughts different from his own grew louder. Stronger.

 

But he understood what they were telling him - this one was one he could use. This one had what he needed.

 

A soldier hushed the blonde wielder and blocked him from view as he leaned in and pressed their heads together, “It's not mine. Drugged?” The question was directed at dream Heero, who shifted them on the bed.

 

He saw his handler's hands drift from his arm to his legs again, conflicted but wanting to check something. “Yes. His eyes... the pupils are uneven and aren't responding to the light. There are dark, grayish circles under them. He was trying to say something. I need-”

 

“Let's move.” The soldier snapped. Green eyes looked away from them dismissively, while his face gave away nothing. “Get him up.”

 

“He's barely consc-!” His handler's growl was cut short by the rumble that shook the room and nearly sent them both tumbling backwards onto the bed.

 

“No time.”

 

Duo watched, detachedly, as the soldier left the blonde wielder leaning in the door well and rummaged through something at the foot of the bed. He blinked slowly at the clothes that were thrown down near his legs.

 

`Ro? Duo frowned at the familiar expression on the soldier's face at the foot of the bed. The soldier had a blank expression he was used to seeing on Heero's face. This time around, the dream was strange - giving him an audience at the door along two Heeros.

 

Dream...

 

The whisper filled his ears. He agreed wanting to do nothing more than rollover and fall into a deeper sleep. From the moment of his capture, he'd been caught up in what seemed like a series of dreams. He was then thrust into one extreme after the other with brief reprieves that never allowed him time to wake up. He saw the bruised hand of his handler gripping his bare thigh with enough pressure it looked like it should hurt, but it didn't. Duo struggled to lift his hand to both knock the handler's hand away and satiate his curiosity on how much he could feel in this dream.

 

He watched his hand shake, his head shifting shakily against the rough and scratchy stubble on his handler's chin as the memory of flat eyes and cruel hands made him cringe inside. The dream didn't change, the hand didn't move and he wasn't suddenly under Jirrad's control again, being manipulated like a toy. He wanted to hold on to a simple dream like that, and not the nightmare he'd been living. It was enough to make him want to never wake up again.

 

Useful... he frowned again at the whisper, unsure of what it meant, but his dreams rarely made sense. He warily agreed. Vessel... the whisper curled through his fuzzy mind, louder this time, while a falling sensation took away his grasp on things. The whisper consumed him and it grew stronger.

 

“Heero!” The soldier hissed, practically carrying the blonde wielder, who stumbled at his side, back out the room.

 

His handler turned to see the other two leave and missed Duo's lips curling in a vacant smile before they relaxed again. Duo heard his handler growl next to him, and then he hurriedly dressed him, jerking him to his feet. Duo's legs wobbled beneath him, supporting him for a short time before they went limp at the reawakening pain in his nether regions. The handler cursed and caught him before he could hit the floor. He helped him stand until he was stable enough to hold himself upright.

 

“We have to go now, Duo.” His handler spoke, his tone struggling to remain firm if not regretful. Duo shook when a hand cupped the side of his face. His handler held his head up, trying to coax a response from him. He pressed into the warm hand. It contrasted the coldness around him as his vision narrowed. He felt dry lips press against his sweaty forehead then his arm was pulled over the handler's shoulder and an arm went around his waist. “You have to help me help you. I can't carry you and I need one of my sword hands free.”

 

That was fine with him, he felt like seeing something die. Duo gave his handler a jerky nod that made the handler squeeze him to his side with a wince of his own. They met up with the soldier supporting the blonde wielder in much the same way the handler was supporting him, but Duo could see that the petite blonde was better able to move and wield a weapon. They stepped over the guards at the door and rushed down a small side stairwell with minimal resistance.

 

The vacant smile was back on Duo's face. He cocked a brow at the wielder ahead of them. The blonde wielder had made a startled sound. The soldier supporting the wielder ignored it, too intent on the path he was leading them on. The blonde wielder glanced back at Duo several times but that smile never left Duo's lips.

 

The blonde wielder intrigued him.

 

Duo's lips quirked at the corners and he gave the blonde wielder a knowing smirk in payment of his shocked and conflicted glances. The wielder was perceptive and aware of what he was doing even in his weaken state. The soldiers they came in contact with were dealt with swiftly, left unconscious and sometimes wounded. Or so they believed.

 

Another soldier went down with a wet smack to a side wall and Duo glanced from the soldier to the blonde wielder. He held the blonde's gaze from under his heavy lids as he and his handler passed him. Duo leeched what strength the soldier had to offer and the smile stretched across Duo's face as the blonde's brow furrowed. Then he pushed the felled soldier one step further and sought the flicker that dwelled in all things. He felt it in all the other soldiers they left behind without really being aware of what he was doing. He took hold of it and dispersed it, leaving shriveled husks behind. At the same moment, the blonde wielder gasped, sweat running from his temples and he made a distressed sound as he nearly fell. The soldier supporting him shushed him and pulled him closer to his side, but the blonde wielder held no more doubts about what he was - what had been called. He drank in all the blonde was feeling and shuddered.

 

They ran out into the foyer and crashed into robed backs that similarly rushed about. They pushed and shoved until they made it out to the open colonnade then into the palace-temple's gardens. His handler put away his sword and nodded, signaling the other soldier to do the same. They pulled the hoods of their cloaks over their heads, did the same with their charges, and moved with the flow. There were many others there holding wounded and astonished people in similar positions, lending them the safety of anonymity.

 

“We welcome your return, my Lady.”

 

Duo's handler growled at the concert of whispers and murmured prayers that followed, then glared at several people around them. His head throbbed as some of the whispers reached his ears.

 

“There are two! We have been blessed with two!”

 

“Our city will grow more prosperous!”

 

Selfishness. Greed, so many of them are driven by greed.

 

“Ay and you've brought guests or were you unable to resist the One's call just like everyone else?”

 

Duo jerked back into himself, into the physical and the pain of being on his feet so soon after… his mind blanked and the fear grew. He shuddered, pressing against his handler's side at the sound of Jirrad's voice. His thoughts were jumbled and broke on themselves before words could form in his head. He wanted to believe the dream that Heero had come for him, but he couldn't remember moving or being clothed and the sound of Jirrad's voice was getting louder. His handler was bringing him to the old man and the pressure in his chest was making it harder for him to breathe.

 

Unconsciously, he tried to make himself invisible and pressed into the body supporting him, pushing back on the arm when it tried to pull him forward. His handler growled and the arm squeezed him hard enough that it made him gasp then shudder from the pain in his abdomen.

 

He's -! He's-! I don't want to! I don't want to anymore! Duo cringed inside himself, hands over his ears as he curled into as tight a ball as he could. He didn't want to be where that man was. He shook under the caress of chilled fingers across his face.

 

Just a dream... a dream like all the rest. The voice promised him as it surrounded him, the world flickering in and out of his sight. You never have to go back.

 

The fingers became more solid, squirming, and then crawling beneath his skin and into his body. They numbed everywhere they touched and memories of Jirrad invading him, flashed before his eyes. Then he felt the guilt and the shame from when Jirrad made him feel things other than pain.

 

No! No more!

 

Shhh, he won't. There is only us. No one will touch you again.

 

He was so cold. He wanted the cold, it made feeling go away. It made it easier to accept the nothingness and to forget.

 

Yesss, forget. You won't have to feel him ever again.

 

I won't?

 

I will make it all go away.

 

The pain and t-the...

 

All of it. Call to me. Say that I can and I will.

 

Duo gasped when for a moment he was falling then a hand gripped his shoulder catching him, pulling him into warmth different from this place of nothingness. The arms of the body he'd pressed against held him close and the place he floated in became watery as it began to fade. The arms were the same as the feeling in his chest, they were both familiar.

 

But… that's not… confused, afraid and shivering within himself, Duo called out to the only name he could think of. The person he called to, dreamed of through it all. Heero? But he hadn't spoken out loud; the void around him had stopped it from even reaching his lips. He pushed to regain control and was lifting his head to look at his handler when pain laced through him followed by a sharp retort.

 

No. It boomed inside his skull.

 

No…The voice grew softer, more docile. He's not here. Gone... Dead, that one killed him.

 

Panic suffused him. He-he said…he ... No. He said he wouldn't.

 

Only to get us to agree. We… you feel … none of them any longer.

 

It was true. Duo could only feel the cold of the void around him. The ginger haired man had failed to keep his promise. Jirrad didn't need hostages any more; he'd gotten what he wanted. He would keep him prisoner.

 

Gone?

 

She, for he realized that the voice was feminine, didn't respond right away. He floated in his grief and started at the feel of pressure all around him again. It was familiar like in so many dreams he'd had growing up.

 

I'm always with you.

 

He felt safe. Since all this craziness had started he'd only felt safe here and with-

 

Call to me… Her voice boomed in head, disrupting his thoughts while she showed him the pain he endured for weeks. She made him relive it all in a span of a breath that left Duo dry heaving and cringing when her voice boomed again,Call to me and I'll never leave you.

 

Re... twa? Nothing hurt anymore. He was the void. He was nothing. He exhaled and he was everything. Retwa.

 

Yes…

 

Duo embraced her presence and lost himself. He convulsed and shivered as the blue from his dreams engulfed him and he drifted away.

 

She breathed, feasting on sensation and smell. Then there was pain, a deep ache and loss her shared body whispered to her of over and over. She silenced it. He was there still but he couldn't think, she called on his rage, fear and pain. She sifted through his memories and left him blank.

 

We will give back to this world what it has given us.

 

He agreed.

 

He found comfort in her, in the nothingness and they were one. They felt rage at the sound of Jirrad's voice.

 

They were him and he would seek Jirrad out as he had done so many others. Duo knew he was close and he remembered everything in a detached sense. No amount of healing would erase it, and Jirrad deserved to have it back.

 

All of it.

 

He would share his pain, the fear, the anguish, and the disgust. Everything with everyone.

 

He had liked the feel of that flicker fading as they snuffed out the remaining soldiers they'd left behind.

 

He wanted to experience it again. Sudden warmth and feeling reminded him of the body that aided them. Their Vessel... his vessel had appeal and made him want to be part of his being.

 

He decided they would indulge in him before gathering what they needed.

 

 

 

Tbc…