Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Wayward ❯ Wayward - Chapter Eight ( Chapter 8 )

Authors Notes: Well, after the events of Tuesday, September 11, I went through a small time where I considered not finishing Wayward because of it's violence and dark themes. Then, after getting kicked in the rear by a couple of people (you know who you are ;o) I was reminded that the violence and darkness was the precise reason I wanted to write Wayward so much. I am not attempting to simplify or gloss-over the things that Duo does in this fic. He does them, they're horrible, evil acts, and that's the truth. And the truth of our world is that sometimes, human beings can be evil and do horrible and evil acts. The truth is also that this is a small, very small, portion of humanity. When they strike as us from evil, we strike back from love.

The following chapters will be the conclusion of Wayward, the grand finale, as they like to say. I hope that some things become clear, and some less clear, as the fic begins to wrap up in on itself towards the end. Some of you will understand what I'm doing, some of you won't. Those of you who don't will just have to live with that. I don't plan on writing a sequel to Wayward. Nor to I plan to explain anything not understood in detail, not even to those considerate folk who email me privately. Sometimes you just don't understand everything that's going on around you, and that has to be enough.

As always, thanks to Marika Webster who is the mistress of PWP fics. Oh, wait, your fic DOES have a plot… I forgot. Thanks to Girl-chama, who has five great fics posted here at ff.net, two of which are Project Sailor Soldier and Angelus Errare. You should all go read them. AFTER you read Wayward, of course. Thanks also to Rashaka-chan who surfaced momentarily from a dive in the Atlantic. She's searching for Atlantis. Thanks to Usa-chan (aka Sailor Ronin) who never, ever ceased to amaze me. My eyes are frozen wide open thanks to her fanfictious escapades.

Disclaimers: I don't own Gundam Wing. And don't think that just because I like a healthy amount of gore and death in a fic that I condone violence as an answer to anything. I don't. I'm a pacifist. I'm Relena. PLFT!

Wayward - Chapter Eight

Sally absently stroked the loose ebony hair that blanketed her white pillow beneath its silken sheen. That lovely dark hair. Wufei slept peacefully beside her. Sally's own mind teemed with thoughts, worries, and the first inklings of panic as she looked on his slack face. Tomorrow the search for demon Duo would begin, and at that thought she swallowed back a rise of black bile mixed with tears. She slid closer to him, her arms wrapping around his bare waist. Wufei shifted, sighing heavily in his sleep as he turned to nuzzle his face into her neck and resume his deep slumber. To think only a couple of years ago she had seen him as a teenager, a noble and mature one yes, but a teenager nonetheless. He'd been her equal in their work, but beneath her feminine notice as a potential mate. Now she clung to him desperately. Her mouth would not open to form the weak and betraying words, I'm scared, Wufei. I'm scared for you. I'm scared you won't come back.

So serene, his face. Not the face of one who planned to set out on probably the most dangerous mission of his entire career. Not OZ nor Mariemaia's disillusioned army could have posed more of a threat to her sweet chauvinist than Duo.

She closed her eyes shut tightly, seeing behind her lids the image of Trowa screaming at the body of poor Quatre, blood and brains spewing from that ugly bullet wound. Betraying her, she felt her arms and legs begin to tremble and a deep sob rocked her chest, causing an aching pain. Distinct memories of gore and violence from warring days did not cause so potent a reaction in her, but that one memory, that one thought of Quatre so brutalized caused a rise from her stomach and she turned over in bed away from Wufei. Almost dry-heaving herself off of the soft mattress, Sally barely had enough awareness to realize when her lover's tired arms wrapped around her carefully.

"Shhh," she heard his calm voice through her retches and coughs, "It's fine, Sally. Everything will be fine." Gentle strokes on her hair slowly soothed Sally into a calm sobbing, ashamed at herself for showing him, Wufei of all people, this female side of her emotions. She gulped down a sob and buried her face in her hands. "I know," he murmured softly in her ear, seemingly in tune with the thoughts that plagued her, "I know, Sally. It's okay. I know."

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Black black black and more endless black in all directions no matter which way she turned or looked it was all black and she thought maybe there was a small sound a footstep a voice a pleading but no that couldn't be because there was nothing and nothing and blackness and everyone knew that blackness equaled nothing and where there was nothing there couldn't be people . . .

. . . and the voices they swarmed all around her some from one side and some from the other and some were slow and vague and didn't seem to know anything and they called the her to tell them what they didn't know but the others now they knew what was going on and they ran and ran and scurried along in their business but none of them paid any attention to her or to the other voices then there were the voices that were somewhere in the middle not many of those but they saw her and welcomed her and told her that she was one of them now and she might as well get used to the blackness because that was all there ever ever ever was and none of them had ever figured out how to get back into that wonderful wonderful world of light and color . . .

. . . then there was the single silent spot among the busy voices that caught her attention. It made her slow down and pay attention to it, blocking out the rest and concentrate only on this blissful quiet. Other busy voices were more quiet than others, but only this one possessed a complete and utter silence. Less a voice then, she decided, and more a wandering soul. Without the chatter that made up the rest of the souls, this one managed to project a feeling of confusion and loss. The mind, however, was sharp and it served to ground her.

Hello? she asked, not even knowing if this person would be able to hear her from her dark place, Are you lost?

The mind snapped to attentiveness, confusion pushed away under layers of strict control. "Who's there?" That voice intrigued her more, because it sounded familiar to her non-corporeal ears. "You're going nuts, Yui," the voice muttered, presumably to itself, "that's what Wufei would say."

Wufei? Uncle Wufei? I remember him . . . he wasn't always very nice.

"What the he- Mariemaia?"

Mariemaia? Who's that? Is that me?

"I . . . I don't know." More confusion, different this time. "Are you?" A pause while she considered this question, but before she could answer: "Where the hell are you?"

You shouldn't say that word. Miss Une will get mad.

"You ARE Mariemaia." Images of previous times when he'd said that word or worse, and been reprimanded sternly by a tall women with hard eyes but a kind smile. Miss Une. And Uncle Hiiro. And Uncles Trowa, Quatre, and Duo. She knew and loved them all. Except . . . except . . .

Uncle Duo's done something really, really bad! Another sound entered her consciousness, not one of the voices she previously heard, but the small, sickly sound of her own weeping. I don't know what, but I- I can't see anything or move! It's all blackness, Uncle Hiiro! Help me! With this significance came another thought, another piece of knowledge the voices had kept from her. The busy voices who paid no mind were the thoughts and souls of the living. Those who were vague at best were the souls of the dead. Uncle Quatre . . . he . . . he's not with you anymore, is he?

"No," the reply was slow, reluctant, and she could tell that this was not the only heavy worry weighting down Hiiro's mind, "he's not. Mariemaia . . . did . . . did Du- er Uncle Duo . . . did he give you any shots?"

She stopped, having to retreat back a bit into herself to think on this and figure out the answer. Memories of the recent past slowly solidified, forming in her misty excuse for a mind. Yeah . . . yeah, he did. And after that I started feeling weird. What was it?

"It wasn't important." But the barely hidden sorrow in his voice told her differently. "I just needed to know, so I'll . . . I'll . . . be able to find the antidote." Another lie. Heaviness shrouded him now, a heaviness that conveyed his fear and defeat. "Can you tell me where you are? Or show me?"

No, I don't think so.

"Damn."

But . . . but if you follow my voice I think you can find it.

"Then keep talking."

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Albert paced outside the door. Within the two remaining former pilots were trapped in a last conference before they set off in search of their wayward comrade. He had no doubt at all that they would be able to find the demon-boy and rid the world of that polluted presence. Otherwise the thought he contemplated would be complete and total suicide. He took a deep breath and ran his shaking fingers through disarrayed hair.

Albert, you idiot . . . this is . . . if they can't destroy him, or take away his powers, you're a goddamned dead man, you know that?

"Fuck," he whispered and turned around just as the door flew open. Albert froze in place, gulping down the lump of fear that lodged in his throat as Wufei settled dark eyes on him. Those same eyes had fixed on him when the boy first arrived, and passed over him just as quickly, writing the doctor off as someone not worth his time. Now those black orbs looked at him in confusion.

"What are you doing here?"

"I-I-I . . ."

"We don't have time for this," the boy growled, his taller companion moving from behind him through the doorway, "We know you wish us well, but if you can't spit it out . . ." They pushed past him roughly, gazes settled on the dangerous path ahead.

Summoning up the very lowest dredges of his courage, Albert finally managed to force the words out.

"I know where Duo is!" He stood there, breathing heavily from the exertion of saying that one short sentence. They both turned ever so slowly, black and green eyes glaring at him, boring through him until he wanted to look and see if the wall behind him were burnt. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and related what he knew might get him killed right then and there. "I planted both bombs, the one in Hiiro's room and the one in Epyon."

Pain flared where the back of his head struck the wall for the second time in as many days. This time Trowa's arm pressed sideways against his throat, effectively cutting off Albert's air supply. He choked, clawing against the thin arm, finding it much stronger than he first thought. Even as his nails raked bloody lines across that pale flesh, Trowa glared hard at him, unflinching.

"You tried to kill them," he growled, visible eye sparking dangerously, "You tried to kill Quatre."

"Y-you-" he had to pause to cough, "You don't understand!"

"Let him go, Trowa. Let him explain."

Through tears and fading light Albert saw Wufei place a golden hand on Trowa's shoulder. Dark pools glared at him as the tall boy began to slowly back away. Albert sucked in air like a Hoover, gulping and coughing, nearly choking on his own desperation. He noticed that Wufei kept a hand on Trowa.

"I'm sorry, I truly am. You have no idea-"

"Spare us," Wufei spat, hands clenching tighter on his friend's shoulder. "Just tell us what's going on."

"I've been working for Duo. I was working for him before Hiiro and Quatre came to Sanch." Albert rubbed his throat, taking a few more deep breaths. "The night he got in to . . . to kill Relena, my little girl found him. She was on her way to the kitchen." To his everlasting shame, the doctor felt tears welling in his eyes and took off his glasses to wipe at them. "Sanyu is six years old. He took her for no other reason than she delighted him. He told me that if he ever got bored with her then he might find some use for me. That technically, until he returns her to me, I belong to him as surely as she does." He bowed his head and fluffed his hair once more with that same shaky hand. "Her mother died two years ago. I have nothing at all left in the world without Sanyu."

"Happiness."

Albert looked up, brows knitted together tightly. "What?"

"That's what Sanyu means. Happiness." Trowa stood free of fetters: Wufei had taken his hand away. Yet the tall boy didn't make a move forward. "I'm sure that you know, then, that Duo also took a nine year old girl."

"Mariemaia, yes."

"We'll get Sanyu when we get Mariemaia. I promise. Just take us to where they are."

"What about Hiiro?" Albert found his poise somewhere in a deep closet at the back of his soul and slipped it on carefully. "Isn't he coming with us?"

"Hiiro . . ." The two glanced at each other, words passing through their eyes instead of their lips. Albert pressed his lips together tightly to keep from accusing them of not trusting him. At last, Trowa spoke aloud, "Hiiro's gone. He's finding his own way."

"He'll never find Duo. Unless Duo wants to be found. The only person who could find this place is one that either knows where it is, or is being lead there."

"Then lead on."

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Dorothy flinched as Duo leaned in and gave her a soft, possessive kiss on the forehead. The red silk dress that draped her slender form threatened to wrinkle beneath his tight fingers.

"You're lovely, Dorothy-dear, my doll, my plaything." He hooked her chin in his right index finger and lifted her down-turned face up so that their eyes met. No heat rose from her lowest parts, no throb or urge to touch him. She saw only the gleaming malice of his eyes and felt only fear and the faintest flaring of anger that she could be so docile. She let her eyes drop. "Dorothy," his voice dropped into tones of warning and he shook her chin to force her eyes back to his, "you haven't forgotten that you're mine, have you?" As she stared on those eyes, her own image of them appeared there and over-rode the true orbs . . . wide indigo eyes, filled with laughter, innocence, confusion . . . and later, towards the end, could she even dare to think . . . love? "Dorothy!" He shook her head by the chin once more.

"N-No. I haven't forgotten."

"Good. Now," he released her and began pacing, "Galer is leading them here. I always knew he would, when given complete control of himself. He's more righteous than he thinks." He paused before the full length mirror and Dorothy waited. Her crimson gloved fingers clenched slightly. If he died, she reminded herself, then the Duo she loved would die as well. "Dorothy . . ." He turned back to her and took a few steps forward, a hand reached out. His eyes were those of her true lover. "Dorothy, did I hurt you?" Before she could even smile, let alone answer, he stumbled backwards, hands moved to either side of his head, lips stretched and curled into an ugly scowl. "Dammit! Goddammit, Quatre! Damn you to Hell and Tartarus!" A crash resounded through the room as Shinigami flung an arm through the mirrored glass, shattering it like the pieces of his own soul. Dorothy recognized this rage . . . she'd seen it the day that poor Hilde girl dared to annoy him too much. As far as she could tell, no one ever noticed when Hilde vanished.

Duo lifted his eyes, bloodshot but crimson also in another way, to her face. Too late she saw the glass wrapped in slender fingers and she slid backwards in time to miss getting her throat slit, but his following stroke cut a deep line in her left cheek.

Fear. White-hot. Blinding. Get away, get away, getawaygetawaygetaway!

Dorothy heard a series of short, strangled whimpers and as she stumbled away from the glass and the walking weapon that wielded it she realized the sounds rose from her own throat. Shinigami lunged for her again, moving more slowly that the speed his power gave him. Pure fury twisted his face, fury that had no other focal point but the one she provided.

"Damn that weak bastard!" he shouted as he arced the sharp mirror piece towards her again, landing a nick on the surface of her neck. She lifted her hands to block his assault. Her reward came as the harsh cutting of glass through flesh and vein. He slashed her wrists.

"Stop!" she cried, her back hitting the wall. Sobbing, Dorothy's legs turned as liquid as tears beneath her and she sank to the floor, still holding her bleeding arms before her. "Please! You need me! YOU NEED ME!!"

Through her closed eyes and shield of bloody arms Dorothy heard him pause, heard the heavy heaves as he stood above her. Then there came the thud of that mirror shard hitting the carpeted floor. Hard hands pulled her arms away from her face. Those hands covered the wounds at her cheek and neck, warmth flooding from the god into her mortal flesh, forcing the blood to flow backwards into her skin and heal it. She dared to open her gaze and look on him. His face and eyes were hard as his hands, but a different hardness from his previous fury. Anger still laced that stone expression, but anger not directed outward at her, but inward. Dorothy stared at him as he grasped her hands and yanked her stained and ruined gloves off. A spark of grief lit those indigo orbs as he saw the damage he'd wrought. He sent the healing warmth into her wrists, but paused as the wounds reached the scar phase. He looked up at her, wavering immortal eyes meeting fear-filled mortal ones. With a fierce sort of desperation he lifted her newly scarred wrists into her vision.

"Remember this," he said to her, the pleading in his gaze over-coming the growl in his voice, "If things get too . . . dangerous for you . . . remember this and do what you have to." His orbs searched her own. "Do you understand?"

She nodded, unable to speak. A shiver passed through her as she thought on what he'd just said and the unspoken agreement that passed between them. This was the will and wish of her Duo, her love, not the one who masqueraded in his body, the one she called master. The hardness completely melted from his expression in a beautiful moment, and he lifted a hand to her once injured cheek, caressing it so softly.

"I don't know how it happened, Dorothy. A year ago I would have said it to be impossible. But I love you."

Her heart flew at the same time her stomach dropped. A joyous lightness overtook her head at his words, words she'd been waiting to hear from his lips. Lifting a shaking hand to his lips, passing her fingers over that soft surface, she watched as he closed his eyes and kissed her fingers gently and whispered her reply.

"I love you too, Duo." Her body, weakened more by emotion than by loss of blood he'd restored, fell into his embrace, her eyes closing gratefully as she felt his arms circle her form as if she were porcelain. His shuddering breath brushed over the top of her head as he breathed, holding in sobs; she could tell.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"It's alright, I under-"

The door swung open.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

"It's up in the mountains," Galer explained as he drove their Jeep through the kingdom of Sanch, a kingdom that had no clue of how much trouble rested within its supposedly safe borders. Trowa gazed out of the window dispassionately, giving no indication of where his mind rested or if he even heard the doctor speaking. Wufei, in the backseat, listened but thought of other things more prominent.

"Sally," he brushed her hair from her face, golden fingers slipping over her tears and erasing them, "You're afraid, aren't you?" He held her so tightly, tight enough so she couldn't slip away from him even if that were what she wanted. She wouldn't answer, clamped her mouth closed against reply. "It's alright for you to be afraid. In this situation, I can find no way to fault you." He smiled softly. "I'm afraid, Sally." Her head turned swiftly, wide eyes locking on his . . . her beautiful eyes. Trailing tender fingers along the side of her face, his gaze following, the boy pressed his lips to hers in a brief, almost chaste kiss. "Anyone mortal would be afraid in this circumstance, male or female."

"I don't want you to go." A simple statement, made without an accenting sob or desperate, grasping fingers, just a strong, blue gaze. He felt in his chest a rising pride, knowing that he had in his arms a brave and capable female, and that she lay there of her own free will. Chauvinistic as he knew it was, he held her tighter and reveled in the knowledge that this woman, this magnificent creature, belonged to him.

"Marry me, Sally Po."

Her gaze turned wondering for a moment, then joyful, then prideful. "Is that it? A grunted 'Marry me Sally Po'? If you think for one moment that I'm going to swoon over THAT-"

She silenced as his lips caught hers, forcefully, daring her to break this kiss. He shifted himself under the sheets, settling his body over hers with a few deft motions. His lips pressed harder on hers, insistent, insensitive until he heard the moan rise forth. Then he pulled his mouth back, looking down, feeling the emotion pouring freely from his eyes.

"Marry me, Sally Po, because I can't imagine coming back from this mission if I have nothing to come back to. Marry me because I love you, you hard-headed, strong-willed onna!" A grin crept across his face, tugging his lips upwards as he realized the excessive silliness of his own words, even if they were true and heartfelt.

She gave no answer but the gentle snaking of her arms around him, pulling him down to her-

"Are you listening?"

Wufei gave a start, hand dropping from where his chin perched on it, blinking his dark eyes in Galer's direction. In the rear-view mirror he could see those brown eyes flicker back towards him.

"I don't really expect him to be listening, but I thought you at least would want to know a little about what's going on."

"Uh . . ." Damn. Wasn't he supposed to be the practical one, the dutiful one, devoted to justice and in seeing justice done? Didn't that mean paying attention when information was given? "If you could repeat what you said, I'd be grateful."

Galer sighed and backed up what seemed like quite a bit to begin his explanation of the things Duo told him again. Wufei, though his heart and mind wanted to slip back into the memory of earlier, he forced them to focus on the present and the monotonous tone of the doctor's voice.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Hiiro watched the two for a moment, trying to decide between the two emotions that presented themselves. While he shifted through these, Hiiro studied the shock shown in Duo's wide eyes and the fear in Dorothy's gaze. He also couldn't help but see the closeness between the two. More importantly, the lack of space.

"Hiiro." Prussian eyes met those sparking orbs of power and in them he saw the crimson malice Wufei described. The shock on Duo's face fell away, revealing hard scorn and a cold sort of amusement. "I guess I became too arrogant," he said, dropping his hold on Dorothy and rising, "I didn't have an alarm installed because I thought my shield would be enough." The braided one approached so that Hiiro could smell the strange scent emanating from Duo's clothing and his skin, could feel the power surrounding the boy in a tangible aura. He felt the need to step away but his feet refused to move. Narrowed indigos glared into Hiiro's own Prussians, through them and into that newly discovered soul. Oh please . . . don't let him see . . . not yet . . . I'm not ready! "How DID you find this place anyway, dearest Hiiro?"

"Mariemaia."

Duo's eyebrows lifted at the answer, given so quickly.

"You injected bio-extract X51173A into her, didn't you?" Hiiro frowned, clenching his fists at his sides. No longer did his feet fight to flee; his entire body reflected anger on behalf of the little girl so brutally used. Duo merely shrugged.

"And if I did? I've had her long enough. You know there's nothing that can be done." He seemed so proud of himself! "But that doesn't interest me. What interests me is that you came on your own. Arriving early to a party really is quite rude, you know. Your host may not be ready, and may be caught in a compromising position. Right, my sweetling?" Duo turned and flashed the quiet Dorothy a grin and a wink. The woman flushed and Hiiro's stomach roiled.

"Why did you do this? What are you trying to accomplish?"

"Oh Hiiro!" Duo heaved a melodramatic sigh and tossed his hands in the air, "You're so BORING! You've got a one track mind, really!" Another sigh and a wave of the hand later, Hiiro found his hands bound in much the same way they'd been on Barge. "I don't have time to bother with you right now. I'm expecting our two remaining comrades to join us soon and I can't have you getting in my way."

"No!" Hiiro stepped closer, allowing that burst of emotion, the flare of desperation to consume him. "Duo, they're coming here to kill you!"

"Kill me?" The braided god laughed, a cold and horrible sound, so unlike the light, laid back titter Hiiro missed more than he'd realized. "They CAN'T. None of you seem to get it yet! I'm a fucking GOD! I'm immortal. I'll be dancing through space long after your bodies have returned to stardust!" The self-proclaimed deity placed an intimate hand on Hiiro's chest. "Begone!" he shouted with a certain childish glee.

And Hiiro found himself somewhere else entirely.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

The room darkened visibly. A palpable sense of thought, of plotting, filled the space between their two bodies, and Dorothy struggled to breath normally. When he turned to her, that thoughtful expression gracing his handsome face as he gazed on her, she knew suddenly that she wouldn't see her Duo again. He rushed across the distance and grabbed her roughly by the arms.

"Dorothy, how would you like to make this game a little more interesting?" Oh that grin . . . so tight, so cruel. "Do you remember what my part of our deal was?" She nodded, and he shook her. "What was it?"

"You promised me a glorious battle."

"Now I'm going to give it to you." His hands clenched on his skin tighter and she felt a warmth flowing into her, similar to the warmth of his healing power. However, this grew and intensified, becoming an encompassing heat, threatening to burn her body up into ashes. Great orange light rose from the bottom of her vision and filled her eyes, nose, and mouth, which was open in a silent scream. What are you doing? What are you doing to me? Oh God! "Welcome to the Divine, my sweetling."

End Chapter Eight.