Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Wayward ❯ Wayward - Chapter Six ( Chapter 6 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Sailorcelestial 
A bridge between minds. I bridge betweens hearts. Broken.
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 09.07.2001 | Pages: 1 | Words: 4.9K | Visits: 146 | Status: Work In Progress
A bridge between minds. I bridge betweens hearts. Broken.
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 09.07.2001 | Pages: 1 | Words: 4.9K | Visits: 146 | Status: Work In Progress
Authors Notes: Well now, since ff.net is down… AGAIN… I'm posting this at as many places as I possible can: at mediaminer.org, on my Duo Maxwell shrine, Young Innocent (http://www.angelfire.com/la3/younginnocent), and on my mailing list. Anyone who is reading this in any one of these three places, if you have a GW or general anime fanfiction archives and would like to post this (despite its darkness and morbidity) PLEASE contact me at AvengeSin@aol.com. Thank you.
Disclaimer: First of all, I don't own Gundam Wing. Second of all, if you have a weak stomach, PLEASE don't read this chapter. Get the summary from someone else. I don't want you up chucking all over your computer. That would be bad.
Wayward - Chapter Six
Hiiro winced as Galer poked and prodded his head for probably the sixtieth time. A mortician and embalmer, Galer still remained the only licensed doctor in Sanch Palace. They'd sent for the nearest M.D. from the village, but until then Hiiro had to be patient and deal with Galer's poking fingers. The shaking in those digits made it all the worse. "Gomen nasai," Galer began in Japanese, "I can be a bit clumsy. The dead don't notice, but the living do." Hiiro stared at the young Caucasian man, not paying any attention to his apology, only the language it was spoken in. "You speak Japanese?" "My wife was Japanese. She insisted that I learn." Instead of pleasure, Galer's face showed a mixture of deep love and deep sorrow. Hiiro didn't ask what had happened. "Since you and I are alone, I figured it would be okay for us to speak Japanese." "The others can speak it too. Except Duo. He said he could never sit still long enough to learn." Hiiro surprised himself with this stoic report on the learning ability of his best friend, currently insane. Galer didn't even seem to notice as he stepped back and pulled off his latex gloves, tossing them into the nearest trash bin. The man stood there, staring into the green metal depths as if his entire reason for living lay within. At last he turned to look at Hiiro, a wobbling smile on his face. "Are there any suspects?" Hiiro blinked. "Suspects?" He found himself wondering how the doctor had come to be uninformed that the Gundam pilots knew the identity of the killer, but were not releasing it. "Yes, I assume that the Sanch authorities are trying to find out who bombed your living quarters. You are, after all, a guest of Prince Milliardo." "Oh." Galer spoke of the bomb. He should have known. "I don't think so, but I've been in here since it happened. Quatre and Trowa have things under control." Even Hiiro heard the harsh accusation in his voice. He felt left out, caged here and within his own burgeoning emotions, while his comrades walked freely, doing the job that should have been his. "I'll put him in prison myself." Hiiro spat, causing Galer to look sharply up at him from the tray of autopsy tools that had grabbed his attention. "Excuse me?" "The bomber. This is Sanch, Relena's kingdom. It's supposed to be a place of peace and whoever this person is, they disrespected her memory and her ideals." Hiiro pushed himself down from the cold examination table despite the lasting pain in his head. "I can't forgive them for that." The boy swept past the doctor and out of the door, determined to find the perpetrator before he could get away. He faintly heard Galer's half-hearted, "Good luck."
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Milliardo blinked at the boys sitting before his desk. Damn those gossiping servants and their gossiping families! He should have known that nothing was secret or sacred in Sanch Palace so long as the Randolph family worked within the walls. He gave a sigh through his nose and leaned back, considering their request as he looked them over. They seemed to have no harmful intentions. Then again, it probably wasn't possible for Quatre Raberba Winner to have harmful intentions. "With my already heightened abilities, the Zero technology would allow me to reach out with my mind and touch the mind of the person who has memories of killing Relena. Then I would be able to see through their eyes and find out where they are." Such earnest blue eyes, begging with their gentleness to be allowed to do this, to take the risk Milliardo knew this was to Quatre's already burnt system. "What will happen to you?" "I'll be exhausted, I might even lose consciousness," the boy replied with unwavering honesty, "There's even a chance for me to die. But I believe the risks are worth it. After all, Relena was a dear friend as well as a respected government leader." Milliardo turned his appraising gaze from the pale boy to his taller, darker companion. Trowa sat in silence, as usual, but this was a more brooding silence than normal. Disapproval oozed tangibly from his rigid form and the prince looked away. What could he do when caught between disagreeing lovers? But the decision must be his. As much as he understood Trowa's worry, for he himself mused too much on the dangers Lucrezia put herself through, Milliardo found himself unable to refuse Quatre's request. "If this can help us find the identity of my sister's murderer, I have to allow you to follow through with it. The rumors are true, as you've heard. I keep Epyon in the hangar where you and Lieutenant Noin once hid Taurus mobile suits from Relena." The prince curled over his desk, lacing his ten fingers through each other as he stared at the tabletop. Finally he lifted his eyes to the two. "The Zero system is salvageable. I made sure of that myself when I first brought the suit here." He stood, making a solemn pillar behind the desk before he moved around it and towards the door. "The repairs should take only a couple of days, at most." "Thank you, Your Highness, for this opportunity." Quatre stood and made a formal bow, as did Trowa, though with a less satisfied expression on his half-hidden face. "Don't thank me." And Milliardo meant it. The Zero system never caused anything but trouble, and in a situation such as the one they faced, they could deal with no more trouble.
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The day after Milliardo gave his agreement for the use of Epyon's Zero system, Wufei arrived from Preventer Headquarters on urgent business from Head Preventer Une. With a stony face he told them all of the kidnapping of Mariemaia and how a panicked Lady Une had ordered all Preventers not currently working on a case to spread out over Earth and the colonies. All were to be searching for Duo Maxwell and his hiding place. Wufei, as a respected and trusted member of the Preventers, was allowed to chose his own assignment. He chose Earth and immediately reported to Sanch in order to tell them of these events. Quatre felt the first tinglings of foreboding. Trowa didn't know who to be more worried about, Quatre or the little girl in Duo's possession. Hiiro did not offer his feelings, but his new emotions were written over his face, which was unused to hiding such things. He was uncomfortable with the entire idea of striking back against Duo, but knew it was his duty. So Wufei and Hiiro contributed to the rebuilding of the half-demolished suit's Zero system, one with growing anger and the other with growing uncertainty. As promised, the repairs took less than two days, but Trowa convinced his koi to wait and rest for another twenty-four hours. All of them sat on edge, hoping that Duo wrecked no more havoc while they waited.
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The phone rang. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, trying to ignore the sound and the fickle promises it offered. Always the voice said the same thing . . . if he complied with orders, he would be rewarded with the return of his possession. Never was that agreement met, but he couldn't pass up another opportunity to maybe, finally, get what he wanted. "Yes?" "I need another favor. You know what will happen if you don't agree." "Yes." "Then listen, my friend. And don't worry, I'm taking good care of your little one."
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Quatre flipped on the power source for Epyon, which had also been repaired in order to feed the Zero system. But there need be no worry about Quatre getting out of control in the suit, for all that remained was the cockpit and a small portion of the head. The remaining green eye flared to life as a hum filled the once dead machine. "I'll be ready to initiate Zero in sixty seconds," the Arabian warned his friends, who waited below. This fragment of Epyon hung from steel wires from the hangar's ceiling. They all stood a bit back from it, a natural fear of the bulk falling keeping them from wandering too close. Quatre could just see Trowa, gazing up with that same worried expression that had marred his face for the past three days. The blonde sighed and looked up to the countdown clock. "Ten . . . nine . . ." He surprised himself with a wave of pure anxiety from his stomach. " . . . eight . . . seven . . ." The flashing red numbers glowed with hellish intensity above him. He couldn't help but think that they offered some premonition of time running short, not just for this purpose, but for them all. " . . . five . . . four . . ." His hand hovered just over the keypad, ready to type in the four meaningful letters. " . . . three . . . two . . ." You can forget this now, turn back- " . . .one!" His fingers danced, so taut with pent up energy that they moved before he could consciously give them permission. In the next moment, which ran fluidly from the one preceding, the golden yellow glow of the Zero filled his eyes and mind. He vaguely heard the murmurings of those below him, but they no longer concerned him. All the minds or the world lay before him for exploring, but he only search for one. Where are you? You're here somewhere, Duo. I know it. I can feel your mind. It's much more intense than before . . . what happened to you? I became a god, the reply boomed into his head, what's your excuse, Quatre? He nearly reeled out from his perch in the cockpit. Duo's mindvoice battered at his already tired psyche with its volume. Duo . . . why did you take Mariemaia? Why have you done any of this? He sent out the distracting questions, all the while seeking the knowledge of where Duo was and where he kept the child. What reason do I need? It was fun. A chuckle wafted over the distances between minds, a dark sound rife with the cruelty Quatre still hadn't fully come to accept. Oh, naughty Quatre is trying to find what's none of his business. Panic flooded through the small boy, both from being found out so easily and from fear of what the braided one might do. He couldn't die; he couldn't leave Trowa behind. Not after he'd promised his koi that he would emerge from this alive. You promised, did you? Well, we can't have you breaking a promise now can we? But I'd get out of there as quickly as possible if I were you . . . the numbers are stacked against you. It took Quatre a moment to understand, but then his blue eyes landed on the digital counter. The numbers were counting down again, and they were just flicking from eight to seven. He cursed under his breath in his mother tongue, ripped the Zero system helmet from his head, and rushed out onto the open cockpit door. "RUN!" was all he managed to get out before leaping spread eagle from the door. He sailed through the air for a second, unsure if he could even survive such a fall. Then there was a deafening blare of sound behind him, followed by a flash of yellow light.
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"He'll be fine." "Are you sure?" "Yes, I'm sure. He's exhausted, but from what I hear he's used to that. He's got a mild concussion and a few cuts and bruises, but other than that he's the perfect picture of youthful health." The voices flittered over his barely conscious form, one familiar, one unknown. As he listened other sounds because apparent: the shuffling of feet, clinking of metal against metal, and the gentle hum of some electronic equipment in the background. Then there came a sigh and a gentle hand rested on his unmoving arm. Quatre decided to open his eyes. The most immediate face in his vision was Trowa's. "Quatre, are you alright? How do you feel?" The banged boy's bare concern shone through his face and Quatre couldn't help but smile. "You heard the doctor, I'll be fine. At least, I assume that was the doctor." Trowa nodded. "He arrived from Sanch not long after Epyon exploded." A dark shadow discolored his face for a moment. "Three days after we called him to look after Hiiro's injuries." "Don't be so hard on him," Quatre said, lifting himself into a slow sitting position, "he probably had other, more serious cases to take care of. After all, Hiiro was barely even hurt." "Out of luck." Trowa reached out to steady his koi. "No, out of training. Nothing with us is luck, you should know that." Quatre pushed away the tall one's seeking hands, determined to stand and walk on his own. "It wasn't luck that you got out of Epyon just in time?" "No." The blonde frowned, deep and dark. "I got out because Duo let me out. He's insane, Trowa. Evil." Quatre shook his head, remembering the conversation in the depths of the Zero system. Religion preached of evil on Earth and evil in the heart of man, but never had the Arabian seen it in such a pure form. Looking up, he could see in Trowa's eyes that the boy retained some natural skepticism of the word "evil." One green eye trained carefully on the smaller boy, Trowa gave a thoughtful breath, considering this information and the consequences. "Are you saying that he's some sort of devil?" "I don't think so. He called himself a god." Quatre bit his lower lip softly as they exited the medical area. Trowa began to lead them towards their shared room, but his companion shied away, heading in the opposite direction. "I need some time to think, alone. I'll be in the study if anyone needs me." For a moment he thought that his overprotective lover would insist on following him, however Trowa finally gave a nod and turned away, leaving Quatre to his darkening thoughts.
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Wufei sifted through the grey, smoldering remains of Epyon. Two hours after the explosion, the Gundanium remained too hot to touch with bare hands, so he wore thick gloves to protect his fragile human flesh. Whatever bomb created this mess had been powerful enough not only to incinerate any trace of itself, but nearly obliterate solid walls of Gundanium alloy. This bomber, whoever he or she may be, had expert knowledge and access to the best equipment. The Chinese boy scowled, tossing down a small piece of what had once been part of Epyon's control system. He didn't need this; he already had enough to deal with. A renegade bomber only complicated his already convoluted job. "Wufei." The irate Preventer looked up from his scavenging to see Trowa in the doorway, arms crossed, face a mass of stone. Wufei was about to ask on Quatre's condition when the tall one stepped aside and revealed the smirking visage of Sally Po. "Look what I found," Trowa said in a completely humorless voice. "She was wandering around the corridors, looking for you." An emerald eye shifted from Chinese boy to grinning woman. At last, with lifted eyebrow, Trowa stepped back through the door. "I think I'll go . . . find Hiiro." Then there was empty air where Trowa had been. Sally strolled forward, not even bothering to look down at the blackened debris littering her path. Wufei stood, legs groaning from having been in a crouch for so long. Immediately his dark eyes were drawn to the slow, intentional sway of her hips, clad tightly in her Preventer uniform. He gulped as the memory of their one night together rose to the surface of his mind. Without warning, he desired another such tryst. Soon. "Sally . . . w-what are you doing here?" Why did his walls and masks always break down around her? "I thought I'd drop in, check up on you. Send a report back to HQ." She kicked past a final smoking obstacle and stood before him, one hand rising to his face, pressing her fingers lightly to his lips. "I missed you." Wufei's eyelids fell halfway in response to the pleasure of her touch. Automatically he stepped forward, arms sliding around her waist. He murmured something about missing her as well as her hand trailed down his chin and over the vulnerable skin of his throat. A sigh bordering on a moan drifted up through his lips as she leaned forward, warm breath caressing his cheek. "I missed you, Wufei." Her mouth closed around his, capturing him in the delight of her feel and making him forget completely where he was. Her tongue sought forceful entrance into his mouth with a ferocity she had never displayed before. It sent a burning line of desire up his spine at the same time he began to shoulder a doubt. Sally's fingers closed like iron around his arms, giving the Chinese boy an uncomfortable sense of no longer being in control. He lifted his hand and yanked at her wrists, pulling away. Sally looked on at him, neither perturbed nor angry, only patiently waiting for what he would do or say next. With a growl Wufei flung her hands away from him and put a good three feet of distance between himself and this person. "Who are you?" "I'm Sally," she replied, but a with slow, malicious grin spreading over her features. And who else would she be? That body, its shape and curves, was all Sally. Desire for that body still inflamed him, though he knew that this was not Sally. Not even that face, so much like her handsome one even with the cruel smirk, could belong to the real Sally Po. "No you're not." With a speed not of natural human possession, she reached forward and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him with one arm up to peer into her eyes. "If I'm not Sally, then who am I?" Gripped with a pure terror he'd never known before, even in the center of battle, Wufei searched those eyes for any hint of the Sally he knew. Instead all he found was a deep, swirling crimson. A cruelty and malignancy he'd seen only once before. "Duo . . ." "Oh, you're good," said Sally in Duo's voice. For only a moment the slender fingers of her free hand clutched tightly at his throat. "Catch me if you can." Then the crimson malevolence swirled and left her gaze, leaving behind a confused woman. "W-Wufei?" Sally, the real Sally, jerked her hands away from him as thought he burned. Terror shone through the usual strength of her demeanor as she backed away from him, flitting glances at her surroundings. She had no clue how she arrived here. Wufei lunged forward and caught her as she fell in a faint. Sally Po did not faint, so he knew she had to have simply been overloaded. Her brain shut down when no longer capable of handling what it was given. In any other woman he may have seen this retreat as feeble. However, Sally had shown her strength to him many times in many different ways. This situation, he understood, went far beyond anything anyone could deal with without some sort of mental downtime. Tenderly, Wufei brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, then lifted her smoothly into his arms. Catch me if you can. Kicking debris from his path, Wufei carried the rag-doll form of his lover from the hangar. His dark eyes flickered from wall to corner, from one end of the corridor to the other. Paranoia seized him as Duo's words played over in his mind. Catch me if you can. The damn braided demon had something in mind, some twisted plan. Wufei scowled, turning towards Trowa and Quatre's shared room, hoping to fine at least one of them. Hoping he would find them alone in their bodies. Catch me if you can. "Where the hell are they?" he murmured to himself moments later when, on arrival at their doorway, he found only a scattering of things that bared resemblance to their owners, but no trace of the two themselves. He propped Sally up against the door jam to relieve the stress on his arms while he thought. Gazing on her placid face, he knew it would not be so serene once she awoke. She would be angry, he knew, for he was angry for her. What Duo had done was the mental form of rape, a complete violation of the woman Wufei loved, and the Chinese boy would not stand for it to go unpunished. "What's going on?" Trowa approached from the opposite direction, a brow arched, and Wufei sighed in relief to see not trace of malignancy in his haze. Then he realized the picture he must present: scowling in another's doorway, holding up an unconscious woman. No time, however, to be embarrassed. "Duo paid a little visit." He scooped Sally up once more. "We've got to find Hiiro and Quatre. Duo's not done yet. He told me 'catch me if you can'." The iris of Trowa's visible eye darkened in what Wufei could only assume was worry for his little blonde koi. "Quatre said he would be in the study," he paused to look at his watch, "about twenty minutes ago." "Hiiro's new room is on the way there; let's go." Trowa nodded curtly and marched off in the direction of the study. Wufei followed close, adjusting his grip on Sally's form, which became heavier with each passing second. Damn onna. He considered re-thinking his evaluation of her faint, if only because it fell to him to carry her. Hiiro met them at the door, eyes devoid of evil but abundant in anxiety. He gave no signs of surprise when Wufei explained what had occurred, and agreed that they should proceed forthwith to the study. About that time Sally groaned and opened her eyes, and Wufei was only too glad to let her stand for herself. As confused as she had to be, the woman stifled her questions and remained silent as they chose their destination. The corridor winding its way to the study seemed to pulsate with dark intentions. All around their slow moving forms Wufei felt a baneful presence watching, appraising, laughing. Up ahead Hiiro carried his gun out in the open, face set, prepared to fire at anything that moved too quickly. Grudgingly Wufei admitted to himself, even if he did not express it aloud to Yui, that a gun was not likely to be able to stop something Duo sent after them. It would be a minor annoyance at best. Trowa trudged ahead with a straight back and eyes that never wavered from the forward position. But his face had paled by several shades, and a light film of nervous sweat coated the boy's skin. What must he be thinking, knowing that this darkness radiated from the place where Quatre waited? "Come in," said Quatre's voice as they approached. One by one they filed into the room, and Trowa gave a sharp, fearful cry. Quatre calmly, primly sat in a large leather chair, his hands folded neatly in his lap. Beneath those pale hands lay a dull grey pistol. "Hello!" His face flashed them a cheerful smile that did not even begin to reach his eyes. No, the aqua pools that stared out from that pale, buoyant face were holes of utter terror. Duo had control, but unlike Sally, Quatre was aware. "Quatre and I were just having a little conversation about the nature of good and evil. He says that light must always conquer darkness if the world is to continue. I hold to the idea that there can be no light without darkness. What do you guys think?" Wufei blinked and stared at the sight. Quatre's delicate face glared back, hardening almost imperceptibly with the presence of the darkness within him. But the eyes . . . lost within those twin aqua orbs, the Chinese boy began to shudder and could say nothing. Hiiro and Trowa remained silent as well, mouths presumably drawn closed by their own versions of this same horror. Quatre's mouth curled upwards in a grin grossly too exaggerated for his delicacy. "No opinions? I had hoped to get a good debate going here." Thin fingers drummed recklessly over the hard metal surface of the pistol and Quatre's head tilted slightly, almost succeeding in making him look curiously innocent. "What, not even you, Wufei?" "Get out." Stepping forward, Trowa choked out those two words with more emotion than Wufei had ever heard the acrobat profess. "Get out of him, now." Before he could take another step, Quatre's marionette hand lifted the pistol to his vulnerable temple, grin sending his threat as well as any words. Trowa could only stand impotently, shaking with fear and rage. "Now, now, I wanted us all to play nice." Immediately the cheerful grin dropped, leaving the lips in a tight line of anger. "Guess that's out of the question. Speaking of questions, I know what yours are. Why am I doing this? What do I want? How did I do this or that? What's happened to me?" Quatre's lungs heaved a terrific sigh, and his wide eyes rolled in his head, a gruesome expression of exasperation. "I'm tired of hearing those questions over and over again from your minds, and I don't feel like answering any of them." The finger pressed lightly on the trigger, teasing them cruelly. "Maybe I should just kill him. What do you think?" Wufei and Hiiro both grabbed one of Trowa's arms to hold him back. They remained objective and knew that they couldn't dare to anger Duo. "Why?" The trembling tall one spoke through gritted teeth. "Why Quatre?" "Because . . ." the hateful presence grinned again suddenly, and Wufei felt a sharp tingle of foreboding, "He's too kind." The gun fired. "QUATRE!" Wufei allowed Trowa to lurch forward, paralyzed by his own shock and outrage. He could look no where but the growing mass of blood and grey matter spilling from a gaping, pulsing wound in Quatre's head. The Arabian's small body slumped over itself, eyes hidden by a down- turned face. But he knew they would no longer be filled with terror, but empty slates. The Chinese boy vaguely saw Trowa fall to his knees at the base of Quatre's chair, and saw him move to lift Quatre's head. A pale hand caught Trowa's, bent it back and snapped the wrist. Wufei staggered against the doorframe as Quatre's bleeding head rose, blank eyes nevertheless holding endless ill will. That grin, so cold, so inhuman, split across the dead face as Duo's voice drifted from Quatre's lips. "Should I stay? I can animate this body as long as I need or want." Behind him, Sally groaned and Wufei could hear her feet as she stumbled away from this grisly scene. Before him, Trowa released a great scream of pain and fury, his free and uncrushed hand flying to his enemy's throat. Wufei wanted to close his eyes against it: the dead body laughing, the tall boy trying to strangle that cackling demon from his lover's still warm corpse. "GET OUT! GETOUTGETOUTGETOUT!!!" "Trowa . . ." Hiiro took a tremulous step forward. Wufei paused to release his breath and realized that there was no more laughing. Trowa held fast to the throat of a soulless husk, no longer even inhabited by the twisted version of Duo. He shook the cadaver without mercy, mouth pulled into an ugly grimace. "Trowa, stop . . ." "Oh, for the love of God, Trowa, please stop!" Sally moaned from the hallway. Wufei couldn't see her, for he gripped the door frame tightly and couldn't trust his legs to hold him should he let go. At last some inkling of awareness crept into Trowa's eyes. With an agonized wail so unlike him, the boy tore his fingers from about Quatre's throat and pushed himself violently away. The unkind jolt sent the blonde's body tumbling from the chair over the carpeted floor. Blood splattered over his white face and Trowa, who sat shuddering on the ground, whimpering like a child witnessing the passing of their first lost loved one. All around them the walls still trembled with dark glee, and they seemed to titter triumphantly.
End Chapter Six.
Disclaimer: First of all, I don't own Gundam Wing. Second of all, if you have a weak stomach, PLEASE don't read this chapter. Get the summary from someone else. I don't want you up chucking all over your computer. That would be bad.
Wayward - Chapter Six
Hiiro winced as Galer poked and prodded his head for probably the sixtieth time. A mortician and embalmer, Galer still remained the only licensed doctor in Sanch Palace. They'd sent for the nearest M.D. from the village, but until then Hiiro had to be patient and deal with Galer's poking fingers. The shaking in those digits made it all the worse. "Gomen nasai," Galer began in Japanese, "I can be a bit clumsy. The dead don't notice, but the living do." Hiiro stared at the young Caucasian man, not paying any attention to his apology, only the language it was spoken in. "You speak Japanese?" "My wife was Japanese. She insisted that I learn." Instead of pleasure, Galer's face showed a mixture of deep love and deep sorrow. Hiiro didn't ask what had happened. "Since you and I are alone, I figured it would be okay for us to speak Japanese." "The others can speak it too. Except Duo. He said he could never sit still long enough to learn." Hiiro surprised himself with this stoic report on the learning ability of his best friend, currently insane. Galer didn't even seem to notice as he stepped back and pulled off his latex gloves, tossing them into the nearest trash bin. The man stood there, staring into the green metal depths as if his entire reason for living lay within. At last he turned to look at Hiiro, a wobbling smile on his face. "Are there any suspects?" Hiiro blinked. "Suspects?" He found himself wondering how the doctor had come to be uninformed that the Gundam pilots knew the identity of the killer, but were not releasing it. "Yes, I assume that the Sanch authorities are trying to find out who bombed your living quarters. You are, after all, a guest of Prince Milliardo." "Oh." Galer spoke of the bomb. He should have known. "I don't think so, but I've been in here since it happened. Quatre and Trowa have things under control." Even Hiiro heard the harsh accusation in his voice. He felt left out, caged here and within his own burgeoning emotions, while his comrades walked freely, doing the job that should have been his. "I'll put him in prison myself." Hiiro spat, causing Galer to look sharply up at him from the tray of autopsy tools that had grabbed his attention. "Excuse me?" "The bomber. This is Sanch, Relena's kingdom. It's supposed to be a place of peace and whoever this person is, they disrespected her memory and her ideals." Hiiro pushed himself down from the cold examination table despite the lasting pain in his head. "I can't forgive them for that." The boy swept past the doctor and out of the door, determined to find the perpetrator before he could get away. He faintly heard Galer's half-hearted, "Good luck."
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Milliardo blinked at the boys sitting before his desk. Damn those gossiping servants and their gossiping families! He should have known that nothing was secret or sacred in Sanch Palace so long as the Randolph family worked within the walls. He gave a sigh through his nose and leaned back, considering their request as he looked them over. They seemed to have no harmful intentions. Then again, it probably wasn't possible for Quatre Raberba Winner to have harmful intentions. "With my already heightened abilities, the Zero technology would allow me to reach out with my mind and touch the mind of the person who has memories of killing Relena. Then I would be able to see through their eyes and find out where they are." Such earnest blue eyes, begging with their gentleness to be allowed to do this, to take the risk Milliardo knew this was to Quatre's already burnt system. "What will happen to you?" "I'll be exhausted, I might even lose consciousness," the boy replied with unwavering honesty, "There's even a chance for me to die. But I believe the risks are worth it. After all, Relena was a dear friend as well as a respected government leader." Milliardo turned his appraising gaze from the pale boy to his taller, darker companion. Trowa sat in silence, as usual, but this was a more brooding silence than normal. Disapproval oozed tangibly from his rigid form and the prince looked away. What could he do when caught between disagreeing lovers? But the decision must be his. As much as he understood Trowa's worry, for he himself mused too much on the dangers Lucrezia put herself through, Milliardo found himself unable to refuse Quatre's request. "If this can help us find the identity of my sister's murderer, I have to allow you to follow through with it. The rumors are true, as you've heard. I keep Epyon in the hangar where you and Lieutenant Noin once hid Taurus mobile suits from Relena." The prince curled over his desk, lacing his ten fingers through each other as he stared at the tabletop. Finally he lifted his eyes to the two. "The Zero system is salvageable. I made sure of that myself when I first brought the suit here." He stood, making a solemn pillar behind the desk before he moved around it and towards the door. "The repairs should take only a couple of days, at most." "Thank you, Your Highness, for this opportunity." Quatre stood and made a formal bow, as did Trowa, though with a less satisfied expression on his half-hidden face. "Don't thank me." And Milliardo meant it. The Zero system never caused anything but trouble, and in a situation such as the one they faced, they could deal with no more trouble.
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The day after Milliardo gave his agreement for the use of Epyon's Zero system, Wufei arrived from Preventer Headquarters on urgent business from Head Preventer Une. With a stony face he told them all of the kidnapping of Mariemaia and how a panicked Lady Une had ordered all Preventers not currently working on a case to spread out over Earth and the colonies. All were to be searching for Duo Maxwell and his hiding place. Wufei, as a respected and trusted member of the Preventers, was allowed to chose his own assignment. He chose Earth and immediately reported to Sanch in order to tell them of these events. Quatre felt the first tinglings of foreboding. Trowa didn't know who to be more worried about, Quatre or the little girl in Duo's possession. Hiiro did not offer his feelings, but his new emotions were written over his face, which was unused to hiding such things. He was uncomfortable with the entire idea of striking back against Duo, but knew it was his duty. So Wufei and Hiiro contributed to the rebuilding of the half-demolished suit's Zero system, one with growing anger and the other with growing uncertainty. As promised, the repairs took less than two days, but Trowa convinced his koi to wait and rest for another twenty-four hours. All of them sat on edge, hoping that Duo wrecked no more havoc while they waited.
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The phone rang. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, trying to ignore the sound and the fickle promises it offered. Always the voice said the same thing . . . if he complied with orders, he would be rewarded with the return of his possession. Never was that agreement met, but he couldn't pass up another opportunity to maybe, finally, get what he wanted. "Yes?" "I need another favor. You know what will happen if you don't agree." "Yes." "Then listen, my friend. And don't worry, I'm taking good care of your little one."
~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~
Quatre flipped on the power source for Epyon, which had also been repaired in order to feed the Zero system. But there need be no worry about Quatre getting out of control in the suit, for all that remained was the cockpit and a small portion of the head. The remaining green eye flared to life as a hum filled the once dead machine. "I'll be ready to initiate Zero in sixty seconds," the Arabian warned his friends, who waited below. This fragment of Epyon hung from steel wires from the hangar's ceiling. They all stood a bit back from it, a natural fear of the bulk falling keeping them from wandering too close. Quatre could just see Trowa, gazing up with that same worried expression that had marred his face for the past three days. The blonde sighed and looked up to the countdown clock. "Ten . . . nine . . ." He surprised himself with a wave of pure anxiety from his stomach. " . . . eight . . . seven . . ." The flashing red numbers glowed with hellish intensity above him. He couldn't help but think that they offered some premonition of time running short, not just for this purpose, but for them all. " . . . five . . . four . . ." His hand hovered just over the keypad, ready to type in the four meaningful letters. " . . . three . . . two . . ." You can forget this now, turn back- " . . .one!" His fingers danced, so taut with pent up energy that they moved before he could consciously give them permission. In the next moment, which ran fluidly from the one preceding, the golden yellow glow of the Zero filled his eyes and mind. He vaguely heard the murmurings of those below him, but they no longer concerned him. All the minds or the world lay before him for exploring, but he only search for one. Where are you? You're here somewhere, Duo. I know it. I can feel your mind. It's much more intense than before . . . what happened to you? I became a god, the reply boomed into his head, what's your excuse, Quatre? He nearly reeled out from his perch in the cockpit. Duo's mindvoice battered at his already tired psyche with its volume. Duo . . . why did you take Mariemaia? Why have you done any of this? He sent out the distracting questions, all the while seeking the knowledge of where Duo was and where he kept the child. What reason do I need? It was fun. A chuckle wafted over the distances between minds, a dark sound rife with the cruelty Quatre still hadn't fully come to accept. Oh, naughty Quatre is trying to find what's none of his business. Panic flooded through the small boy, both from being found out so easily and from fear of what the braided one might do. He couldn't die; he couldn't leave Trowa behind. Not after he'd promised his koi that he would emerge from this alive. You promised, did you? Well, we can't have you breaking a promise now can we? But I'd get out of there as quickly as possible if I were you . . . the numbers are stacked against you. It took Quatre a moment to understand, but then his blue eyes landed on the digital counter. The numbers were counting down again, and they were just flicking from eight to seven. He cursed under his breath in his mother tongue, ripped the Zero system helmet from his head, and rushed out onto the open cockpit door. "RUN!" was all he managed to get out before leaping spread eagle from the door. He sailed through the air for a second, unsure if he could even survive such a fall. Then there was a deafening blare of sound behind him, followed by a flash of yellow light.
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"He'll be fine." "Are you sure?" "Yes, I'm sure. He's exhausted, but from what I hear he's used to that. He's got a mild concussion and a few cuts and bruises, but other than that he's the perfect picture of youthful health." The voices flittered over his barely conscious form, one familiar, one unknown. As he listened other sounds because apparent: the shuffling of feet, clinking of metal against metal, and the gentle hum of some electronic equipment in the background. Then there came a sigh and a gentle hand rested on his unmoving arm. Quatre decided to open his eyes. The most immediate face in his vision was Trowa's. "Quatre, are you alright? How do you feel?" The banged boy's bare concern shone through his face and Quatre couldn't help but smile. "You heard the doctor, I'll be fine. At least, I assume that was the doctor." Trowa nodded. "He arrived from Sanch not long after Epyon exploded." A dark shadow discolored his face for a moment. "Three days after we called him to look after Hiiro's injuries." "Don't be so hard on him," Quatre said, lifting himself into a slow sitting position, "he probably had other, more serious cases to take care of. After all, Hiiro was barely even hurt." "Out of luck." Trowa reached out to steady his koi. "No, out of training. Nothing with us is luck, you should know that." Quatre pushed away the tall one's seeking hands, determined to stand and walk on his own. "It wasn't luck that you got out of Epyon just in time?" "No." The blonde frowned, deep and dark. "I got out because Duo let me out. He's insane, Trowa. Evil." Quatre shook his head, remembering the conversation in the depths of the Zero system. Religion preached of evil on Earth and evil in the heart of man, but never had the Arabian seen it in such a pure form. Looking up, he could see in Trowa's eyes that the boy retained some natural skepticism of the word "evil." One green eye trained carefully on the smaller boy, Trowa gave a thoughtful breath, considering this information and the consequences. "Are you saying that he's some sort of devil?" "I don't think so. He called himself a god." Quatre bit his lower lip softly as they exited the medical area. Trowa began to lead them towards their shared room, but his companion shied away, heading in the opposite direction. "I need some time to think, alone. I'll be in the study if anyone needs me." For a moment he thought that his overprotective lover would insist on following him, however Trowa finally gave a nod and turned away, leaving Quatre to his darkening thoughts.
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Wufei sifted through the grey, smoldering remains of Epyon. Two hours after the explosion, the Gundanium remained too hot to touch with bare hands, so he wore thick gloves to protect his fragile human flesh. Whatever bomb created this mess had been powerful enough not only to incinerate any trace of itself, but nearly obliterate solid walls of Gundanium alloy. This bomber, whoever he or she may be, had expert knowledge and access to the best equipment. The Chinese boy scowled, tossing down a small piece of what had once been part of Epyon's control system. He didn't need this; he already had enough to deal with. A renegade bomber only complicated his already convoluted job. "Wufei." The irate Preventer looked up from his scavenging to see Trowa in the doorway, arms crossed, face a mass of stone. Wufei was about to ask on Quatre's condition when the tall one stepped aside and revealed the smirking visage of Sally Po. "Look what I found," Trowa said in a completely humorless voice. "She was wandering around the corridors, looking for you." An emerald eye shifted from Chinese boy to grinning woman. At last, with lifted eyebrow, Trowa stepped back through the door. "I think I'll go . . . find Hiiro." Then there was empty air where Trowa had been. Sally strolled forward, not even bothering to look down at the blackened debris littering her path. Wufei stood, legs groaning from having been in a crouch for so long. Immediately his dark eyes were drawn to the slow, intentional sway of her hips, clad tightly in her Preventer uniform. He gulped as the memory of their one night together rose to the surface of his mind. Without warning, he desired another such tryst. Soon. "Sally . . . w-what are you doing here?" Why did his walls and masks always break down around her? "I thought I'd drop in, check up on you. Send a report back to HQ." She kicked past a final smoking obstacle and stood before him, one hand rising to his face, pressing her fingers lightly to his lips. "I missed you." Wufei's eyelids fell halfway in response to the pleasure of her touch. Automatically he stepped forward, arms sliding around her waist. He murmured something about missing her as well as her hand trailed down his chin and over the vulnerable skin of his throat. A sigh bordering on a moan drifted up through his lips as she leaned forward, warm breath caressing his cheek. "I missed you, Wufei." Her mouth closed around his, capturing him in the delight of her feel and making him forget completely where he was. Her tongue sought forceful entrance into his mouth with a ferocity she had never displayed before. It sent a burning line of desire up his spine at the same time he began to shoulder a doubt. Sally's fingers closed like iron around his arms, giving the Chinese boy an uncomfortable sense of no longer being in control. He lifted his hand and yanked at her wrists, pulling away. Sally looked on at him, neither perturbed nor angry, only patiently waiting for what he would do or say next. With a growl Wufei flung her hands away from him and put a good three feet of distance between himself and this person. "Who are you?" "I'm Sally," she replied, but a with slow, malicious grin spreading over her features. And who else would she be? That body, its shape and curves, was all Sally. Desire for that body still inflamed him, though he knew that this was not Sally. Not even that face, so much like her handsome one even with the cruel smirk, could belong to the real Sally Po. "No you're not." With a speed not of natural human possession, she reached forward and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him with one arm up to peer into her eyes. "If I'm not Sally, then who am I?" Gripped with a pure terror he'd never known before, even in the center of battle, Wufei searched those eyes for any hint of the Sally he knew. Instead all he found was a deep, swirling crimson. A cruelty and malignancy he'd seen only once before. "Duo . . ." "Oh, you're good," said Sally in Duo's voice. For only a moment the slender fingers of her free hand clutched tightly at his throat. "Catch me if you can." Then the crimson malevolence swirled and left her gaze, leaving behind a confused woman. "W-Wufei?" Sally, the real Sally, jerked her hands away from him as thought he burned. Terror shone through the usual strength of her demeanor as she backed away from him, flitting glances at her surroundings. She had no clue how she arrived here. Wufei lunged forward and caught her as she fell in a faint. Sally Po did not faint, so he knew she had to have simply been overloaded. Her brain shut down when no longer capable of handling what it was given. In any other woman he may have seen this retreat as feeble. However, Sally had shown her strength to him many times in many different ways. This situation, he understood, went far beyond anything anyone could deal with without some sort of mental downtime. Tenderly, Wufei brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, then lifted her smoothly into his arms. Catch me if you can. Kicking debris from his path, Wufei carried the rag-doll form of his lover from the hangar. His dark eyes flickered from wall to corner, from one end of the corridor to the other. Paranoia seized him as Duo's words played over in his mind. Catch me if you can. The damn braided demon had something in mind, some twisted plan. Wufei scowled, turning towards Trowa and Quatre's shared room, hoping to fine at least one of them. Hoping he would find them alone in their bodies. Catch me if you can. "Where the hell are they?" he murmured to himself moments later when, on arrival at their doorway, he found only a scattering of things that bared resemblance to their owners, but no trace of the two themselves. He propped Sally up against the door jam to relieve the stress on his arms while he thought. Gazing on her placid face, he knew it would not be so serene once she awoke. She would be angry, he knew, for he was angry for her. What Duo had done was the mental form of rape, a complete violation of the woman Wufei loved, and the Chinese boy would not stand for it to go unpunished. "What's going on?" Trowa approached from the opposite direction, a brow arched, and Wufei sighed in relief to see not trace of malignancy in his haze. Then he realized the picture he must present: scowling in another's doorway, holding up an unconscious woman. No time, however, to be embarrassed. "Duo paid a little visit." He scooped Sally up once more. "We've got to find Hiiro and Quatre. Duo's not done yet. He told me 'catch me if you can'." The iris of Trowa's visible eye darkened in what Wufei could only assume was worry for his little blonde koi. "Quatre said he would be in the study," he paused to look at his watch, "about twenty minutes ago." "Hiiro's new room is on the way there; let's go." Trowa nodded curtly and marched off in the direction of the study. Wufei followed close, adjusting his grip on Sally's form, which became heavier with each passing second. Damn onna. He considered re-thinking his evaluation of her faint, if only because it fell to him to carry her. Hiiro met them at the door, eyes devoid of evil but abundant in anxiety. He gave no signs of surprise when Wufei explained what had occurred, and agreed that they should proceed forthwith to the study. About that time Sally groaned and opened her eyes, and Wufei was only too glad to let her stand for herself. As confused as she had to be, the woman stifled her questions and remained silent as they chose their destination. The corridor winding its way to the study seemed to pulsate with dark intentions. All around their slow moving forms Wufei felt a baneful presence watching, appraising, laughing. Up ahead Hiiro carried his gun out in the open, face set, prepared to fire at anything that moved too quickly. Grudgingly Wufei admitted to himself, even if he did not express it aloud to Yui, that a gun was not likely to be able to stop something Duo sent after them. It would be a minor annoyance at best. Trowa trudged ahead with a straight back and eyes that never wavered from the forward position. But his face had paled by several shades, and a light film of nervous sweat coated the boy's skin. What must he be thinking, knowing that this darkness radiated from the place where Quatre waited? "Come in," said Quatre's voice as they approached. One by one they filed into the room, and Trowa gave a sharp, fearful cry. Quatre calmly, primly sat in a large leather chair, his hands folded neatly in his lap. Beneath those pale hands lay a dull grey pistol. "Hello!" His face flashed them a cheerful smile that did not even begin to reach his eyes. No, the aqua pools that stared out from that pale, buoyant face were holes of utter terror. Duo had control, but unlike Sally, Quatre was aware. "Quatre and I were just having a little conversation about the nature of good and evil. He says that light must always conquer darkness if the world is to continue. I hold to the idea that there can be no light without darkness. What do you guys think?" Wufei blinked and stared at the sight. Quatre's delicate face glared back, hardening almost imperceptibly with the presence of the darkness within him. But the eyes . . . lost within those twin aqua orbs, the Chinese boy began to shudder and could say nothing. Hiiro and Trowa remained silent as well, mouths presumably drawn closed by their own versions of this same horror. Quatre's mouth curled upwards in a grin grossly too exaggerated for his delicacy. "No opinions? I had hoped to get a good debate going here." Thin fingers drummed recklessly over the hard metal surface of the pistol and Quatre's head tilted slightly, almost succeeding in making him look curiously innocent. "What, not even you, Wufei?" "Get out." Stepping forward, Trowa choked out those two words with more emotion than Wufei had ever heard the acrobat profess. "Get out of him, now." Before he could take another step, Quatre's marionette hand lifted the pistol to his vulnerable temple, grin sending his threat as well as any words. Trowa could only stand impotently, shaking with fear and rage. "Now, now, I wanted us all to play nice." Immediately the cheerful grin dropped, leaving the lips in a tight line of anger. "Guess that's out of the question. Speaking of questions, I know what yours are. Why am I doing this? What do I want? How did I do this or that? What's happened to me?" Quatre's lungs heaved a terrific sigh, and his wide eyes rolled in his head, a gruesome expression of exasperation. "I'm tired of hearing those questions over and over again from your minds, and I don't feel like answering any of them." The finger pressed lightly on the trigger, teasing them cruelly. "Maybe I should just kill him. What do you think?" Wufei and Hiiro both grabbed one of Trowa's arms to hold him back. They remained objective and knew that they couldn't dare to anger Duo. "Why?" The trembling tall one spoke through gritted teeth. "Why Quatre?" "Because . . ." the hateful presence grinned again suddenly, and Wufei felt a sharp tingle of foreboding, "He's too kind." The gun fired. "QUATRE!" Wufei allowed Trowa to lurch forward, paralyzed by his own shock and outrage. He could look no where but the growing mass of blood and grey matter spilling from a gaping, pulsing wound in Quatre's head. The Arabian's small body slumped over itself, eyes hidden by a down- turned face. But he knew they would no longer be filled with terror, but empty slates. The Chinese boy vaguely saw Trowa fall to his knees at the base of Quatre's chair, and saw him move to lift Quatre's head. A pale hand caught Trowa's, bent it back and snapped the wrist. Wufei staggered against the doorframe as Quatre's bleeding head rose, blank eyes nevertheless holding endless ill will. That grin, so cold, so inhuman, split across the dead face as Duo's voice drifted from Quatre's lips. "Should I stay? I can animate this body as long as I need or want." Behind him, Sally groaned and Wufei could hear her feet as she stumbled away from this grisly scene. Before him, Trowa released a great scream of pain and fury, his free and uncrushed hand flying to his enemy's throat. Wufei wanted to close his eyes against it: the dead body laughing, the tall boy trying to strangle that cackling demon from his lover's still warm corpse. "GET OUT! GETOUTGETOUTGETOUT!!!" "Trowa . . ." Hiiro took a tremulous step forward. Wufei paused to release his breath and realized that there was no more laughing. Trowa held fast to the throat of a soulless husk, no longer even inhabited by the twisted version of Duo. He shook the cadaver without mercy, mouth pulled into an ugly grimace. "Trowa, stop . . ." "Oh, for the love of God, Trowa, please stop!" Sally moaned from the hallway. Wufei couldn't see her, for he gripped the door frame tightly and couldn't trust his legs to hold him should he let go. At last some inkling of awareness crept into Trowa's eyes. With an agonized wail so unlike him, the boy tore his fingers from about Quatre's throat and pushed himself violently away. The unkind jolt sent the blonde's body tumbling from the chair over the carpeted floor. Blood splattered over his white face and Trowa, who sat shuddering on the ground, whimpering like a child witnessing the passing of their first lost loved one. All around them the walls still trembled with dark glee, and they seemed to titter triumphantly.
End Chapter Six.