Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Victims Anonymous ❯ Malone Meets Duo ( Chapter 2 )

Victims Anonymous

 

A plot bunny that came to me in the shower (good thing, cause it made me feel awfully dirty!)

 

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or any of the characters from the show. I will have some OC's in here, though, and I do own them. Don't sue me - my money goes to tuition and anime.

 

Warnings: AU, Duo POV (usually). NCS, sexual, emotional and physical abuse of many people (at the very least in the past), yaoi (eventual 1x2, 3x4, maybe others, language, angst. The boys and others are victims, murder (future - basically murder for hire for the government! Not self-defense!), death (not any of the GW people). If I think of more, I'll add them, but the point is it will be bad and if you don't like bad stuff, don't read. I probably won't describe most of this in detail, but…it's still bad stuff and there will be a lot of mention of it.

 

Also - this will have a happy ending! Don't let the pain and suffering make you think it will all be miserable and it will never get better! Also, not everything listed in the warnings happens every chapter - I just put it at the beginning of every chapter so ya can't say I didn't warn ya!

 

1-7-05 update - very minor changes

 

 

Chapter 2: Malone Meets Duo

 

(Malone POV) (In the past)

 

My first memory is of my father being dragged away from my mother by the cops. He'd been beating her. Again. He beat me, too. He beat me bloody, but he beat mom broken. He broke her leg so many times that thirty years later she still wears a cast. She doesn't like regeneration units and refuses to get a prosthetic. I think her leg reminds her of what she went through. I don't know why she doesn't want to forget - I do. After they dragged him away, I never saw dad again. Good riddance.

 

I was walking my beat for the first time when I saw him. He couldn't have been older than ten. He was painfully skinny, with knobby knees and elbows. He had huge violet eyes and long chestnut hair. He was filthy, bloody and naked. And he was committing a crime.

 

The kid was beating this old, ugly guy with the biggest nose I've ever seen and grey hair shaped like a mushroom. The only thing he was wearing was a white lab coat stained with blood. At the time I was horrified at what the kid was doing and rushed in to save the old guy. Now, if I'd seen the same thing, I would have let the kid beat the bastard to death.

 

I don't know how I didn't notice the blood on the kid's thighs and on the guy's fingers and penis, but I didn't. I just charged in, ready to protect the helpless (or so I thought) old man.

 

So I grabbed the kid and took the bloody baseball bat away from him. So much blood. The kid just kind of stared at me with this horrible blank look. Then he started crying. I looked at the kid and looked at the old guy. I asked the old guy if he was all right. He didn't answer. I looked at the kid again, who had his back turned. And I finally saw it.

 

His ass and legs were covered in blood. I didn't know a kid could have so much blood in him. I figured it was the old man's blood at first, but…the guy looked like he was barely hurt. When I look back on that day, I laugh at how inexperienced and unobservant I was. I rush in to save the old guy from the little orphan boy who probably hasn't eaten in a week. And I expect him to have enough strength to beat a man, even an old man, up? I was so naïve!

 

So I sit there and stare at the bloody little boy, crying in a corner. I look at the old guy again.

 

“Are you finished here yet? Can I get on with it now?” He asks me. Get on with what?

 

“Hey, man…you want a medal or something? I got it under control. Scram!” he says. Doesn't he realize I'm a…oh yeah…I'm not wearing a uniform.

 

“I'm an officer.” I tell him. He looks at me, gets an `oh, shit' look on his face, and scrams. Boy, was I confused.

 

I shrug it off and look at the boy again. He's still crying. I wonder…

 

“Hey, kid…you OK?” I ask him. He doesn't answer. “Hey kid!” I say louder. He still doesn't answer. I walk over to him and stop. I reach out to tap him on the shoulder and he screams.

 

“Kid! I'm not gonna hurt you!” I yell, but he doesn't listen. He just keeps screaming.

 

“Shut up!” I scream. He stops. And turns around. And he…lays down…legs spread…

 

“If you're gonna do it, hurry up. I don't know how much longer I can…stay…awake…” and the kid passes out. I just stare at the kid and the blood coming out of his…oh shit. I finally realize what I'd just seen.

 

I'd just saved an old pedophile after he'd raped a little boy. Just a kid, living on the streets, no parents…not even abusive ones. There was no one to protect this kid. He was alone. And I'd helped the bastard who'd hurt him get away. He was bloody and beaten and so young…and the baseball bat. Oh, God. The fucking bloody baseball bat! He must have…he put it…oh God!

 

“NO! Kid! Wake up! Are you OK? Did he…? Oh, shit!” I grabbed the kid and slung him over my shoulder. I ran to the station. Might have taken me two minutes. Seemed like a fucking lifetime. But I made it.

 

I grabbed the first phone I found and called dispatch to send an ambulance. I called in my superior officer to help me stabilize the kid. He took one look at the kid and said, “Damn. Maxwell again.”

 

“What? You mean this has happened before?” I ask, incredulous.

 

“Yeah…once a week or so…not usually this bad, though…where'd you find him?”

 

“How can you be so calm? The kid's fucking bleeding to death! What the fuck's wrong with you?” I scream. The guy looks at me and sighs.

 

“Fucking rookies…look…you called for an ambulance already. Help is on the way…you can't do much else for the kid. Just wait for them to help the kid…and you'll see him again next week. All bloody and helpless.”

 

“I saw the guy who did it! I let him get away cause I didn't realize…but I know what he looks like! We can get him this time!”

 

“Yeah…and next week someone else will…look. This kid…there's no helping him. We can't protect him forever. He's gotta learn to handle these situations…”

 

*Wham! * I couldn't help it. That kind of callousness in the face of that kind of abuse…I decked my superior officer. Didn't get written up for some reason, but…I couldn't help it.

 

By the time he came around, the ambulance had gotten there and they had the kid loaded up. I went with him. I watched the EMT's shake their heads and sigh when they saw who it was. I had to restrain myself from beating the shit out of the bastards.

 

When we finally got to the hospital (fuckers took their time!), I went to the waiting room to…you know…wait. And I waited…and waited…

 

“What the Hell's taking so long?” I asked the receptionist.

 

She sighed and patiently said, “They have to flush the blood from the cavity, check for tearing …OK…they don't need to check. It's obvious. But they may need to do an X-ray to see how bad it is this time…based on the amount of blood, there is serious internal damage and he won't live through the night. Anything else?”

 

I sat there, mouth gaping, and shook my head. How could people be so…didn't they care? The kid was raped with a baseball bat by some old pervert and was bleeding to death…couldn't they do something? Finally, the doctor came out.

 

“It's about time!” I shout. “How is he? Is he gonna make it?”

 

The doctor scratches his head and nods. “He's OK. We had to operate. His insides were…here…let me show you.” He brought me to his office and pointed to his computer screen. I walk over to it, squinting, trying to make out what he was showing me…

 

I didn't even have time to say `oh, shit!' or `oh my God!' before I was throwing up all over the desk. I don't want to describe it. Isn't it bad enough that I had to see it? All I'll say is…it looked like there were rather large tunnels deep into his midsection. About the size of a baseball bat. I don't understand how he survived. Neither did the doctor.

 

We caught the guy that hurt him that time shortly after. He got 20 years for child abuse (such a nice way of putting it). They'll notify me when he gets out and I'll tell the kid, but I don't think he'll get out early - the state looks down on such severe violent crimes and hopefully the other inmates won't go easy on him. He, he! OK…so maybe I paid someone…is that so wrong?

 

After the kid was in a hospital for about a week, he was healed enough to be released. He was released into my custody as a cop…I kind of lied and said I was arresting him. There was a mix-up at the station and he was charged with assault and battery. I got him out of it somehow. Later, I brought him to the orphanage, thinking I was doing the right thing (even though he kicked and screamed and told me they'd hurt him). I found out his name was Duo and that he'd gotten his last name from the first street sign he remembered being able to read: Maxwell Street, the street the police station is on.

 

So I brought him to the orphanage and checked on him everyday. He seemed to be pretty happy, and he was adopted within the week. I was ecstatic! I'd helped little Duo, I boy that no one else had been able to help! He was happy too. He thanked me. I'm surprised he didn't blame me for what happened later.

 

I should have figured it would happen, but like I said, I was still green. I still believed in the system. Now I know better. They raped him. Again. I shoulda seen it coming…

 

He showed up in the hospital again the very next week and the nurse called me (said I was the only one she could think of that would care) and told me Duo was hurt again. I raced to the hospital. It wasn't as bad, but…I couldn't help but feel like it was my fault. And he'd killed the guy. I couldn't blame him. No one could. He wasn't charged. And I never tried to get him to go back to the orphanage again.

 

He's killed several people since then, and hasn't served any time. I might keep him in the holding cell a bit, but not for long. I know he doesn't go looking for trouble. It finds him.

 

But I can't help him this time unless he works for me. He doesn't know what he's getting into. I'm gonna pair him up with another victim…but he's different. He might be even worse off than Duo. And he's a professional assassin. Some weird doctor taught him. Called him the Perfect Soldier, or something like that. Those two boys are gonna clean up this city.

 

TBC…

 

Author's Note: Don't read this part if you don't want to hear about real life sick stuff!!! I was taking a serial crimes class and I saw a picture of a woman who had been raped with a broom stick. The guy who killed her left it in. The X-rays they took for the autopsy showed long tunnels deep into her body. There was blood on her face cause she coughed it up (her lungs were pierced). The guy who did that also did the same thing to another girl, but he used a baseball bat (he used whatever was around). That's where I got the idea for what happened to Duo. Obviously the girls in real life didn't survive. But I can't kill him off, so he somehow lives. The guy didn't do it as many times or as deep on Duo cause Malone came in time. Go Malone!