Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Whispers In The Dark ❯ Playing In The Dark ( Chapter 2 )

Horror, Suspense, yucky violence, supernatural activity...somewhat canon charas (if I can manage it).

No Pairings. Maybe just a bit of shounen ai, but not in the way that us people looooovvveee.

Stand Disclaimers Apply: I do not own Gundam Wing. There.

Um...rated 'R' for some violence? (Some violence she says...)

0o0o0o0o0o0o0 = means scene change

A/N: Wee! Thank you for your review, priscel! And sorry if ya'll think the charas are a little...well...off.I am trying to write them as I think they would act in this situation, but hell...er...never mind.

Chapter Two: Playing In The Dark

Heero gave some thought to that question, frowning as he paused in place. He heard Trowa's sudden quickening of breath over their comm-link, but that was about it. He noticed the faint thickness in the other pilot's voice, but what really concerned him was the fact that Trowa Barton, of all people, was asking him such a question. He'd expected it from either Duo or Quatre, but never Trowa. Trowa never struck Heero as the type to question such things.

Heero hesitated in moving forward, having found his way into the hall that Trowa himself had missed. The straight stretch, devoid of any nearby doorways, had simply ended in a narrow stairway that he was carefully negotiating through. He had the flashlight that Quatre had abandoned earlier because it hadn't any working batteries-from what he'd gathered through their previous communication, he gathered that they had simply broken the plastic covering and bulb that allowed the light, and thus the batteries of their unfortunate flashlights were still in working order. He knew that they had somewhat dropped or broken their other flashlight, so once he found it, he would simply exchange batteries.

But back to Trowa's question.

"No," he stated. His mind couldn't rightly comprehend such things. It was nearly impossible for him. So out of touch with his own thinking. He shook his head as he continued. "It hasn't been proven to what they truly are, and as such, I don't believe in such tales or things. They are as far beneath me as fairy tales and urban legends."

Trowa gave nothing in reply, but Heero could hear the taller pilot's breath suddenly hold once more, and he wondered what the other had encountered in order for him to ask. There was nothing more, and Heero continued on, feeling his way down the stairway. He hated this vulnerability. This helplessness. The pitch blackness of his surroundings yielded no light whatsoever, and despite his own hesitation into the unknown, he moved forward with the methodical precision. His feet slid across smooth floor, and he reached out, trailing his hand over the smooth surface of the wall. He encountered a doorway on his right, and ventured within, using his foot to guide his way. He searched the room right to left, finding nothing but a toilet, a sink, and garbage underfoot. When he ventured out into the hall, he heard Trowa's soft curse, and suddenly muted breathing.

Heero wondered what was going on. His section was completely dead. All he heard was silence, and he'd encountered nothing that had him questioning ghosts or aliens. His feet connected with something metal, sending it sliding across the hall floor, banging against a wall. He followed the sound, hands fumbling over the floor, fingers connecting and gripping a round object. With notable smirk, he quickly released the dead battery of his flashlight and exchanged it with the newer one in the broken one. Light flashed upward onto the ceiling, and with a slight smile of satisfaction that he was no longer in the dark, Heero flashed it around himself. He quickly observed the distance he had between himself and the stairway he'd just left, finding that he'd missed a very small door just beside it.

The room he'd just explored was a bathroom, the room to his left was empty, void of anything of interest, and the other doorway nearby was an small enclosing that held an open elevator shaft and a stairway. He shined his light downward, crouching at the edge of the elevator shaft. Down, he caught Quatre's helmet within the circle of light, the clear face shield plainly broken. He judged that the blond had fallen at least one level, and Heero figured he'd be quite all right if he leapt downward. But Quatre wasn't like him-more than likely, he'd set his arms out in front of him to brace himself from the sudden fall and didn't think to try and land on his feet.

Heero lifted his helmet, noting the stale, thin air, and called Quatre's name. Upon receiving no reply, he heard Wufei's inquiry as to whether he'd found anyone, and Heero replaced his helmet.

"Nothing. But I found their flashlight," he reported, moving away from the shaft and shifting the light on the stairway that led down into the darkness below. Dust appeared disturbed a few steps down, and Heero began moving cautiously down, trying the shine the light into the darkness at the bottom. Upon doing so, he caught Duo's supine form at the bottom, one leg twisted at an odd angle. Careful to take the rest of the steps down, Heero hurried over to him, noting the lack of helmet, the unconscious features. Figuring that the broken leg was all that Duo was injured with, Heero shifted to slide the flashlight against the lip of his helmet and chin, and bent his head forward so that he had it trapped against his chest and chin. Then he adjusted Duo's unconscious figure, turning him carefully and searching for other injuries.

Heero heard something metallic ring out at his right, so he quickly dropped Duo's head from his thigh and had both the flashlight and his gun pointing in that direction. All the light caught was a dead end with an open doorway, broken ceiling panels, and dust. He caught his breath, trying to pinpoint the exact location of that sound, and turned to sweep the light at his left. He saw that the corridor stretched a ways from him, and curved slightly, more darkness spilling out from the corner. He exhaled slowly, then moved back to assess Duo's current state.

"I've located 02," he stated, flipping one eyelid open, noting the constriction the pupil made as he briefly flashed the light in the violet depths. Duo stirred, groaning as he tried to bring up his hands to block out the light. Then he reacted with panic, both eyes snapping open and body trying to heave itself from the floor.

"Quat!!"

"Duo, sit down!" Heero growled as Duo tried to stand, but wobbled dangerously upon trying to set weight on his leg. "SIT DOWN!"

"Ah! My leg!" Duo wailed, sinking back to the floor and gripping his knee, despite the fact that he'd broken his shin. He didn't want to touch his shin, but it felt so horribly out of place, uncharacteristically displaced. While it severely nauseated him that it was broken quite obviously, what scared him more was this situation. "It hurts! Gah!"

"Shhh!" Heero hissed, pulling at his arm. "Quiet!"

"Heero! The light!"

"Yes, I exchanged batteries with the light you had...come on, I'll help you up..."

"Did you find Quatre?" Duo asked, allowing his friend to throw his arm around Heero's shoulders, and rise steadily. He winced, his leg throbbing angrily with pain. With a furious whip of his head, he turned from side to side, trying to peer through the darkness, ears straining when Heero didn't answer fast enough.

"Trowa's looking for him, Wufei is using his Gundam's computer system to track him. He hasn't found him yet. Right, Chang?"

"I'm switching to body heat scans, 01," Wufei's voice stated within the working speakers of Heero's helmet. "I'm already registering you both...03's just a wall away...and I'm getting a faint reading just beyond the wall at your six...but nothing else."

"He may be beyond that wall," Heero said, gesturing with a covered thumb behind them.

"Behind us?!" Duo repeated, twisting within Heero's arm to stare at the discolored wall behind them. With a frustrated growl, he reached for the flashlight, of which Heero kept out of his reach. "Shine it there, Heero! Damn it, he's right over there!"

"Did you see who attacked you?" Heero asked, furrowing his forked eyebrows as he kept Duo's hand from their remaining flashlight and began eyeing the stairway.

"No! I couldn't see, Goddamn it! It was pitch black! I couldn't see a fuckin' thing! Did you see where Quat went?" Duo asked, voice rising with excitement and panic.

"Yes. It was an open elevator shaft," Heero grunted as he and Duo maneuvered their way up the stairway, and upon reaching the level, Heero showed him the door that Duo had been positive hadn't been opened before. He stated this as Heero shined the flashlight down to their right, into the elevator shaft and pointing out Quatre's helmet.

"He was right there?! I couldn't hear him, Heero!" Duo exclaimed, utterly incredulous at the somewhat short distance. It was no more than ten feet away. "When I took my helmet off, I couldn't-!"

"Lower your voice, Duo. This area isn't secure..." Heero warned, frowning at the obvious.

Duo snorted, shaking his head from side to side. The oxygen was thin, and as a result, he was breathing harder than he normally should have been, trying to fill his lungs with each breath. He clutched Heero's sturdy frame, fingers clenching and unclenching in pensive agitation. The fact that Quatre was separated from them, in such a...well, for the lack of a better word, creepy situation, had Duo on edge. He didn't know what pushed him, but he knew that he hadn't connected with the solid frame when he'd tried to kick in self-defense. His foot had found air while that something had pushed him with enough force to send him completely off balance. And with enough force for him to break his leg! The thing-no, the person was strong. And dangerous.

And this darkness helped nothing.

With a frustrated growl, he hopped alongside Heero as the Asian steered them toward the stairway that would lead them to the hangar. There was suddenly hysterical scream that rang through the halls-a scream that hitched, and then began again with more force, with more desperation. The sound startled Duo enough to clutch Heero in startled fear, eyes widened a considerable size, while Heero was snapping his arm upward, gun pointing at the darkness.

The pitch, the voice, the intonation wasn't Quatre's-it was deeper, stranger. It wasn't Quatre that was screaming, but a man was screaming bloody murder from a place beyond them. Agonized, terrified, and completely uncontrolled. There was a desperate quality to it that had Duo's entire body shaking in recognized fear, panicking because he didn't know what was causing that scream, panicking because he definitely didn't want to encounter what made that scream.

"Heero?!" Trowa's voice flittered through the speakers of their comm-link. "Heero?! Is that you?"

"Negative," Heero replied, frowning as he tried to pinpoint the direction the scream was coming from. Duo was clutching so tightly on him that he could barely manage to breathe. "Chang?"

"What's going on?! You guys all right?" Wufei asked, his tone suggesting his bewilderment at the situation. He couldn't hear the screams from his position.

"Where is it coming from?" Trowa asked, and Heero could hear the thoughtful frown that was no doubt residing on the mercenary's lips. "I can't tell..."

"Does it sound closer to you?"

"I don't-"

"Gah! That guy's in fuckin' pain, man!" Duo exclaimed. "Fucking help him! Someone?!"

"That's not Quatre," Trowa reported.

"What is going on over there?" Wufei demanded, hating that he didn't know what was going on.

His comrades' voices were on edge, and though he couldn't hear Duo, he just knew that the braided one was practically going crazy upon something that couldn't even be explained. Wufei had no idea what they were talking about, but whatever it was had both of the most stoic males he knew on complete alert.

The screams suddenly stopped, and thick silence descended. Duo about launched himself into Heero's chest, trying to put himself closer to the stairway, suddenly desperate to be inside one of the Gundams and away from whatever it was that had the entire colony flooded with creepiness. Heero, with some annoyance, pushed Duo off of him, growling as he reset his gun's position, eyeing the darkness beyond the flashlight's capability. Duo gripped the front of his spacesuit within trembling, gloved hands, staring wide-eyed toward the stairway they had just left. While he definitely wanted to find Quatre and have him safe, he was also desperate enough to just run and hide.

He was absolutely fine with Oz soldiers and millions of mobile dolls-but he didn't want to deal with the supernatural. Which was the theory he was heading for, despite his mind insisting that there was a plausible explanation for this. He thought of ghosts, and his mind began to race with images of the undead, of the horribly mutilated that wanted the pilots to stay with them forever...and at that thought, he felt himself just a little more desperate to cling onto Heero.

Heero waited, waited for anything more to indicate the horror the unidentified person had just experienced. No dying screams, no gunshots, no indication of movement...just thick, heavy silence. He lowered his gun, shifting so that he had Duo's arm securely around his shoulders and neck, helping to support the braided pilot. Duo was breathing so hard from his rising terror that Heero was reminded of the oxygen situation, and he quickly shifted once more, lowering Duo's arm from his shoulders and quickly tugging off his helmet.

"Put this on," he commanded, unhooking the oxygen tube from his helmet. Duo shook his head madly, braid whipping about.

"No! No, man! That just makes it fuckin' worse!" Duo protested, pushing the helmet from him.

"The oxygen's too thin for that sort of breathing, Duo. You'll need it, or you're going to become a liability by fainting," Heero snapped, thrusting his helmet at him. "Put it on! NOW!"

"No, Heero! NO! It just makes it harder to see! I'm fuckin' scared, damn it!" Duo shouted angrily, shame clearly expressed on his face. Heero stared at him, lowering his helmet, raising an eyebrow. That single look sent red color to Duo's face, but he wouldn't take it back. He was scared, and he was going to let the other know.

Heero blinked, trying to process this. He never knew Duo to be afraid of anything. And here the boy was, shaking within his insulated suit, refusing to put on a helmet for fear of not seeing clearly. Because the dark scared him. Because the unknown beyond scared him. Heero had to respect that admittance, which had taken a lot to say, and he nodded firmly, replacing his helmet and re-hooking his oxygen tube to his tank. Duo looked away from him, face burning from the admittance, and stared into the darkness. The light flickered briefly, sending him into brief panic, thinking that they were going to lose that as well.

Heero merely patted it within his open palm, and he heard Trowa's voice once more.

"Heero? Is that you?"

Frowning, Heero tilted his head, flicking the flashlight to and fro. The hallway was empty except for him and Duo. Duo, unable to hear these comments due to his lack of helmet, caught his puzzled expression and stared at him.

"Where are you?" Heero asked, flicking the flashlight briefly toward both stairways. "Can you see my light?"

When silence answered him, Heero waited patiently, waiting for Trowa to have his area secure enough to speak once more. He heard Wufei's muttered impatience, his frustration evident in not knowing what was going on.

"Heero?"

"Barton...which level are you on?"

"The third level."

"We're on the second, Barton."

The silence was heavy on both ends of the comm-link, and Duo stared at him hard, eyes unblinking as he could only guess what Heero was talking about. Heero looked away from him, adjusting his helmet, waiting for Trowa to answer.

The mercenary then sighed, a low whoosh of sound that was merely an aid to whatever inner demon he was fighting. Heero wondered what had made him ask such questions, and frankly, after all the current shit so far that they'd come through, he wondered if he really wanted to know. He did not believe in ghosts. There was a reasonable explanation for all of this. A reasonable explanation for everything.

"Heero...I can't find him. Wufei?"

"Nothing."

"Is he possibly out of your scanning range?"

"Something within the colony's interfering with the equipment, Barton," Wufei answered evenly. "The screens sometimes register snow, yet come in completely clear. Perhaps I need to widen my range... he could not have gone far..."

"What the fuck's going on?" Duo hissed at Heero, tapping his helmet. With annoyance, Heero waved him off, staring at the leg that was briefly held up, bent at the knee. "Heero! What's going on?! Have you found Quat, yet?"

"His last coordinates were just beyond your seven, Barton," Wufei continued. "That was...nearly ten minutes ago. The last I saw, he hadn't moved."

"Hn."

Heero frowned once more. "Trowa, have you seen anything more?"

"No."

"They why the questions?"

"No reason, Heero. Perhaps I am just making conversation while I search..."

Heero heard Wufei snort, and mutter something in Mandarin. He could just picture the Chinese shaking his pumpkin head, stiff ponytail sweeping his rigid shoulders. Duo began tugging on Heero's suit, urging him to move in the direction of the hangar. With a nod, Heero began moving in that area, helping Duo once more by supporting him.

They had just reached the stairway when the screaming began again, this time accompanied by a hysterically sobbing woman.

"Get us out of here, Heero!" Duo screeched, pushing away from Heero and slapping his hands on the stairs, preparing to go up them hand over hand.

Heero turned, shifting his flashlight once more in the direction of the second stairway, and began moving in that direction, determined to find out what and why those sounds were being made. There was an awful metallic screech, similar to that of metal bending, and Duo was forced to either linger in darkness or tag along rather painfully with Heero, so he chose the obvious. He left the stairway, and hopped furiously on one foot, cursing colorfully as Heero touched the staircase that he and Duo had just come up upon. Duo grabbed the hand rail with a grit of his teeth as the perfect soldier began descending, carefully keeping his gun and flashlight aimed in the darkness, his feet sure and quick on top of rusty stairs.

Duo managed to keep himself from falling as Heero touched the bottom, and turned to face the hallway that he hadn't checked out. The screams were somewhat louder-the woman was pleading in English, pleading for someone to not kill her. The man was just screaming to scream-the desperate edge made goosebumps arise on his skin, and for Heero to frown harder. He began venturing down that hall, making sure Duo was close by, and once they reached the corner, they saw that it opened up to a wide, open area, the screams muffled here.

"Please don't-! Please don't do this! Please! For God's sake, please dddooonnnn'ttttt!"

"GOD! Oh, please, help me GOD! HELP ME! Oh, God....oh GGGGOOOODDD.....!!"

Duo began shaking hard, reaching up to clutch his own shoulders, arms crossed over his chest. The begging the pleading of both man and woman...God. Their desperation, their fear-! He could just feel their fear and could feel their heart-strong pleas...it made every muscle within him shake or stiffen, and the sensation had him somewhat paralyzed as Heero tried to analyze the situation.

Frowning, puzzled, Heero hesitated before setting foot within the area. From the various junk that laid about, it had been a cafeteria of sorts, but the thing different about this one was the fact that various benches, tables, chairs and utensils laid scattered about, dust coating everything. There was a hardened substance on various areas of the floor that were once food, but time and dust had changed them into mere piles of gray colored messes. He kicked what looked like a drumstick aside and began walking.

The voices ceased once more, but what disturbed them both was the obvious taking of a life-the woman's voice ceased with an abrupt gurgle that was similar to a choke, air rushing past a suddenly malformed throat...almost a gag. The man ceased just as suddenly as he had started.

Heero became aware that Duo was breathing heavily again, nearly hyperventilating. Frowning, he turned to face Duo, and caught something out of the corner of his eye. Duo saw it too, whirling with a cry, and as Heero shined the flashlight in that direction, they realized that nothing was there. Duo reached out, clutching Heero's oxygen tank, shaking violently.

"Duo, let go!" Heero growled, throwing an elbow about to dislodge the arm.

"Heero-!"

"Duo! Stop this!" Heero snapped. "I know you're scared! But you're not helping anybody!"

"Heero," Trowa's voice interrupted softly. "Are you back at the carrier?"

Heero turned from Duo to concentrate on this question. "No. We are in a cafeteria."

"Those voices were further from me...I found his helmet."

Trowa was nearby. Heero indicated at Duo to follow, and the pair made their way as quick as they could back toward the main hall that had led them hear. Heero was alerted to a sudden cracking sound that immediately silenced upon their quick pause. Holding his breath, Duo felt his muscles suddenly lock into place upon feeling solid surface beneath his feet shift and sway. He reached out to grab Heero, but before he could, he was falling through empty air amidst debris.

Screaming with surprised fear, Duo fell what seemed like a short distance, but then an intense clanging sound alerted him that the debris had landed on something metallic below him, and then continued falling. Seconds later, he connected with a very thin, very round, unmovable object, which forced his body off-course, too small to support his complete stop. Duo bounced off whatever that thin, metal thing was and switched position in mid-air, forced by gravity and propulsion to fall stomach first. And then he landed hard upon an unsteady surface, metal clanging against suit, debris raining around him.

Because the collapse had taken him completely by surprise, Duo screamed in terror, clutching tightly to whatever he'd held onto, feeling his legs and lower torso dangle in empty air, his elbows touching similar matter, aware that his thin body was just barely holding onto whatever had stopped his fall. He shifted quickly to pull himself fully onto the surface, until just his feet were dangling over the edge. Even then, his ribs were throbbing with a familiar beat of pain, his elbow felt somewhat disjointed, and he really, really hated the sound that was coming from above of him-that foreboding screech of failing supports, the protesting sound of cracking plaster, of the fact that he had no fucking idea what had just caught him in mid-air, and what surrounded him. Had he somehow landed on a light fixture of some sort? Judging from the slight swing that his weight and fall had created, combined with the fact that there were indeed very thin supports holding the surface up from whatever was down below, gave Duo his answer.

"Heero!" he shouted in fear, hoping that the soldier could hear him.

"Duo?!" Heero's voice was very muffled, quiet, and if Duo wasn't straining his ears for both the sound of his fellow pilot and for any other movement suggesting more danger, he'd have never heard the Asian.

"Heero! I can't move!"

"Duo, where are you?! I can't see you!"

"Heero, I'm going to fall! I'm going to fall, damn it! I can't hold on! I don't wanna let go!!" Duo wailed in near hysterics as a familiar creaking sound of failing supports pierced his ears. "Heero!!"

"Duo, calm down! Calm down, damn it! I'm-hold on! I'm coming down!"

"I don't know where I am!"

And Duo watched as a brief touch of light flittered over him, revealing that he was indeed on a large, rectangular light structure; that the inky blackness below him revealed nothing of its hidden contents. He didn't want to die-not like this! He sucked his lips into his mouth and tried not to move as the supports suspending the light from the ceiling protested under his added weight.

"Please hold me!" he pleaded quietly, hearing movement above him. While he was momentarily relieved that Heero was coming to get him, he was not yet appeased. He was terrified, his heart was racing a million miles an hour-! One of the supports gave suddenly, and his body shifted violently to the right. He had to grab onto the other support with his hand, and curl his good foot around one of the back supports to keep from sliding all the way off.

"Heero!!"

Upon no reply, Duo cursed colorfully, trying to catch some sort of shape and lay-out of the surface below him. Unable to do so, thanks to the darkness, he pulled his head in close to his body, gripping the corners of the light with a desperate hold. He could just feel the supports straining to hold him, and he listened to the loud creaking noises it made as it tried to support him.

"Goddamn it, hurry up! It's gonna break!" Duo screamed as the light fixture shifted once more, this time, the left side of the thin structure slipping downwards, shifting his body downwards.

"I'm down here, Duo! Look down!" Heero's voice was somewhat of a heaven-send to him. In relief, Duo pushed his head over the edge of the light, spotting a bouncing light moving across an empty floor.

Duo looked down, breathing heavily to see that Heero was nearly forty feet below him, the flashlight pointed upwards at him. Looking at what he was lying on, he practically choked with terror, realizing that he was indeed on a light fixture, but it shouldn't be supporting his weight. The other support gave way, releasing him completely to the ground below. With a terrified yell, Duo managed to shift, straining his arms upward, his fingers just barely curling over the edge of the light, and he caught himself from falling. Unfortunately, his left arm throbbed with intense, mind-numbing pain that had him letting go upon immediate action, and merely held onto the light fixture with the tips of fingers on his right hand.

"HEERO!" he shouted in terror, legs kicking in mid-air.

"Duo, LET GO! I'll catch you!"

"No you won't! I'm heavy! I'll die!"

"DUO! STOP BEING STUPID AND LET GO!" Heero roared, flashlight shaking.

With a small whimper of reluctance, Duo squeezed his eyes shut and let go of the light. He fell almost breathlessly down to Heero, crashing into him with a loud, pained cry as hurt limbs entangled with an unmoving body. Heero grunted as they fell into the floor, but the crisis had been diverted. Duo pushed up from him, and yelled out in pain, slumping back down to the floor.

"My elbow! I fucked up my elbow! Fucking fuck! I fucking hate this fucking place! I wanna go! Heero-!"

"Damn it, Duo," Heero muttered, pushing Duo off of him. "Look-! You need to calm down. Calm yourself. I know you're hurt. Calm down! You're not helping anybody by doing this!"

Duo felt his shoulders shake as he pressed his face into his hand. His left elbow indeed hung at an odd, unnatural angle, and he couldn't rightly move it. So it lay limply against his thigh, throbbing insistently with pain. His leg was still pulsing with a dull beat, but it wasn't as bad as the one on his arm. He felt entirely nauseated and dizzy at the same time, and his heart was beating on overdrive. While a more logical part of him was trying to rein in some control, the more basic parts of him, the parts that were fearful of this brand-new terror, had him in a tightly held grip. He didn't know how much of this he could take.

And Heero's insensitivity to it all frustrated him even more.

"I know, all right?! I know I suck! But this is fucked up, Heero! It's fucked up! I hate the dark! I hate this! I hate everything! Have you guys found Quat yet?!"

"Trowa's working on it, Duo." Heero studied the elbow, wondering how the pilot would hold up if he reached out now and set it. It would help, but he didn't have anything to splint it with. They would have to do it when they reached the carrier, where proper medical supplies were stored.

"Does he have a light?!"

"No. We're the only ones that do. Here, let me help you up," Heero said, slinging Duo's arm over his shoulder and rising, pulling the braided one with him. Duo hissed and growled with pain as he did so, his elbow completely out of joint, pain radiating along his ribs, and add to that his broken leg. He felt entirely nauseated and weak, and the only thing keeping him going was his fear and growing hate for the place. He looked up to see what he'd fallen through, Heero pointing the flashlight upwards, and Duo could just faintly see that he'd dropped two levels-two levels?! How was that possible when there was no indication of floor rot?!

And how could the floor have rotted when it was concrete and steel? Simply befuddled, Duo strained his eyes to see that he'd hit the edge of a catwalk hand railing, the catwalk a sad, limp sight that led beyond his vision. That was the impact that broke his arm. He shook his head in stunned disbelief, touching his elbow, then mentally assessing his damaged leg.

Heero pointed the flashlight ahead of them, capturing the stairway he'd used to come down here. They made their way there, Duo complaining with every step, so Heero had to stop, sling off his oxygen tank and helmet, and order Duo onto his back.

"Gee, Heero. That's pretty suggestive," Duo snorted, chuckling in a thin whine.

"DUO."

"All right, all right," Duo sighed, hopping onto Heero's back, unable to curl his arm around the other's shoulders due to the dislocation of his elbow. Then, with some shame on his face, Duo allowed Heero to begin the arduous process of carrying him all the way back up to the hangar.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

He knew his face was completely burning with his embarrassment and shame as he wrung out his spacesuit, hearing his own bodily release drip onto the floor. Shivering violently, from both the cold air and the fact that he was still petrified from that encounter with the thing from earlier, Quatre was sitting in his underwear in the dark, awkwardly wringing out his spacesuit because he'd peed in it. Totally shamed that such a thing happened, he felt tears of disgrace prick at his eyes. He removed his gloves, laying them carefully on his thigh, and tried as best as he could to dry the material within the leggings with the insulated material. He gripped one part with his hurt arm, pain throbbing up and down his forearm with the pressure to move, and used his good hand to work on the wringing.

He wondered what the guys would think of him once they knew he'd peed his pants. No doubt make fun of him for it-he'd been scared, he hadn't even thought about it! They'd judge him as completely wimpy and incredibly weak-he didn't want to see their expressions of both disgust and pity if they found out. No one else had peed their pants during moments of incredible stress, and yet he had.

He found himself reviewing that incident with some clarity. He didn't know what it was. It wasn't a man. It was something composed entirely of hate. Hate directed toward him. For what, he didn't know. The feeling was just...both a gut feeling and somewhat psychic cognitive intuition. He knew the thing had focused its rage and rancor at him, but why? What had he done?! Had he touched something he wasn't supposed to? Did he disturb some sort of final resting place? What?!

Seeing that the material was somewhat dry, he rose on unsteady legs, wincing at the feel of wet underwear. Figuring no one would really him would miss it, he took those off and hurried redressed after tossing the wet material aside.

He was just about to seal himself up within the suit when he heard the screams-the man and the woman. They were so close to him-! With a frantic start, he whirled about, feeling his breath hitch in his throat. Holding onto the wall, he turned to his right, trying to see through the darkness for the source of those screams. The male wasn't anybody he recognized, and there wasn't any females with them...so was there life here? Somewhere? And who would be staying here?! Were they the enemy?

But why scream that way?

Chills flitting up his spine, Quatre held his breath and begin inching away from the sounds. There was no way he was going to investigate. But then he paused, because he suddenly felt shamed that he would rather walk away rather than risk himself to investigate. Someone could be terribly hurt and he was going to move away because he didn't want to risk running into that thing once more. Upon that thought, he squeezed his eyes shut with reluctance, then opened them, hurrying in that direction. He kept his hand on the wall, guiding him through the darkness, and when he came to the very edge of the hallway, the screams stopped. Just like that. Only, the woman didn't silence peacefully-he recognized the sound of a throat being sliced. He'd heard it once before, on a mission, and Wufei had to do it before the entire base could be alerted to their presence if the guard sounded out. Quatre shuddered. The sound made his stomach roil, and he suddenly felt very dizzy. His arm was throbbing with the intense pain of a broken limb, and he was sure he was entering the stages of shock due to the break-but there was no way to treat it while there were...well, ghosts flying around. Mean, hateful ghosts.

He wondered where the others were, and paused upon his investigation. Breathing slowly, recognizing the thinness in the air supply, he turned, as if to look back the way he'd come. But of course he couldn't see. Blinking slowly, he became aware of a sound-a slow, sliding shuffle. It was very quiet, very precise, and Quatre felt his limbs begin to shake. It was continuous, and it brought to mind the sound that thing had made when it banged upon the walls-ghosts could make sounds. They could so anything. And so, he wasn't alone. And the last time he'd spoken up, that thing had-! There was no way he was going to call out.

He began moving away from the shuffling, feeling his way desperately away from the hall and finding himself bumping hard against the stairway. The shuffling stopped, and Quatre was desperate. The ghost heard him. He took the stairs two at a time, hastily feeling his way up, and nearly tripping at the top. He heard a low sound, but was unable to distinguish it due to his hasty escape. Shaking intensely, thinking that 'it' was now going to come after him, he began shuffling and feeling his way around a corner and against the smooth wall, finding that he was breathing a little heavily. He touched a doorway and took the chance, ducking inside. He bumped into some wooden object that caused him to fall heavily onto the floor.

He cried out in pain as he bumped the carpeted floor with his broken wrist, then paused. Carpet. In all the places he'd been so far, he hadn't encountered carpet. Curiously, he felt about with his bare hands, noting that he touched fabric and what felt like a tool belt. He touched that, finding a weapon in what felt like a hammer, then hurried to his knees, crawling hastily across the floor. He found a space-hands exploring the edges, he discovered that he was actually touching a bed. And there was enough space for him to crawl under, and so he heaved himself through the space, and edged against the back wall underneath the bed. He clutched his hammer and waited, facing the doorway, ears straining for some sort of sound.

Minutes upon minutes passed, and he found himself still shaking, still dizzy and sick. He hadn't heard nothing but the continual buzz of silence, and he so badly wanted to find the others to get out of here that it created a sort of coppery taste on his tongue. Quietly smacking his lips, realizing that he was thirsty, Quatre waited a few more minutes before he became aware of a new sound-the sound of footsteps moving his way.

His breath hitching in his throat, his eyes opened to considerable size, and he stared in fear at the inky blackness before him, hearing the footsteps near the room and finally enter. Except, when he was able to see dark figures moving about before, he saw nothing. The person, or thing, whichever it was, moved about the room. Various things were touched and rifled through, and at one point, Quatre heard the person hum. It was a man-none of the pilots had that deep a voice.

Suddenly, his nose caught a particular stench-body odor and the smell of incense. Could this really be happening? Do ghosts have smells?!

The man shut the door, and the sound reverberated through the area on a loud boom. Quatre winced, his chest quivering with the need to keep his breathing silent, his eyes still wide, his hands gripping the hammer tightly. The man moved about the room, shifting through what sounded like glass bottles, then the bed creaked with weight.

Quatre wanted to push out from underneath and make a mad run for it, but fear had him paralyzed. Besides, he wouldn't get far, anyway. He couldn't see, he wasn't completely sure of what direction he'd taken, and his mind really wasn't thinking coherently right now. 'Battle strategist' my ass, he thought with heavy disgrace. I can't even think of what to do!

He felt the mattress touch him, forced downward by the man's weight, and he squeezed his eyes shut, struggling hard to keep from breathing, afraid to make a sound.

The man was muttering, now, saying unkind things about another man named "Nigel". Fucking Nigel this, Fucking Nigel that-apparently, the man was pissed that Nigel had dropped some fun time with him for some other guy named Adrian. The name 'Adrian' was spat out rather than spoken, and the bed made a squeaky protest of noise as the man rose from the bed.

"I'm comin', I'm comin'!" he shouted to some invisible caller as he opened the door, and slammed it shut, the sound ringing throughout the entire area.

Quatre was so terrified that if he could, he'd hold his breath until one of the guys indeed found him. He didn't want to move, too scared to because he thought the man, or thing, would come back. He definitely would believe in ghosts from now on...

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Wufei stared intently at the screens before him, reaching up to adjust the viewing screen on his body heat register, finding that three of the pilots were accounted for-but another was just out of reach of his range. In frustration, he gave a cursing bark, shifting back to the security screens that were monitoring the carrier's insides. It frustrated him that he couldn't get a clear view of the hangar without leaving his Gundam, because he wanted to be on top of it if someone entered the area and pinpointed the carrier while they were extremely vulnerable. It was too small a space to fully operate a Gundam within, and he was only one man against unknown others, so Wufei was discomfited.

He was severely annoyed that this situation, which wouldn't have happened if two certain pilots hadn't left their station to explore other things, was continuing on. His annoyance at their incompetence and their negligence in leaving their Gundams unprotected blew into full-blown dislike. While he did like his fellow pilots for certain qualities-Duo's intensity and consistency on the battlegrounds, Quatre's intelligence in leading them to victories-their other qualities he wasn't quite approving of: Duo couldn't shut up even if he were gagged, and Quatre's wimpiness really had him on edge. Wufei wasn't saying that he didn't dislike them completely-just their nuances.

He could hear the others through their comm-links-Heero's calm deadpan, Trowa's even quieter monotone. Duo he heard fleetingly through Heero's link, but the other's voice was a complete unknown. Wufei was worried that this was all a ploy by the enemy, an effective one that had successfully split the pilots up into smaller, more vulnerable positions.

But the thing he didn't get was the puzzling way both Heero and Trowa spoke of 'ghosts'. Trowa had asked Heero about it earlier, and there were moments in which he was questioning Wing's pilot if he were nearby-! Wufei was annoyed that he wasn't getting the full story, and although both Wing and Heavyarms' pilots would never admit to such things, he bet he would have gotten the full gist of it from the other two pilots, both of whom were so eager to believe or explore such things.

Duo would right out admit that something supernatural was up, and while Quatre would question it and explore the possibilities, Wufei had no doubt that the former heir would start to believe as well.

He sighed heavily, dragging a hand down his face. This situation was both frustratingly annoying and increasingly stressing. His scanners for approaching enemy revealed nothing, but from the way the other two had spoke-!

"01, how's it going with you?" he asked, reaching up to switch the body heat scans to those of approaching spacecraft. Unfortunately, some interference within the colony was jamming his sensors, and he registered snow. He switched back to body heat, frowning when he heard nothing in reply.

"01? Do you read me? 01?"

"I think Heero removed his helmet," came Trowa's answering reply.

"What? Why?"

"Something about Duo getting on his back...."

Wufei snorted, figuring that since Trowa put it that way, Heero was possibly carrying Duo back to the hangar. "How's your end, 03?"

"No success."

"Did you find out who was nearby?"

"It was probably just the colony settling. That's all."

Wufei wasn't sure how to reply to that. Trowa hadn't expressively admitted that he was seeing things or hearing things, but there was some uncertainty in the mercenary's voice. Uncertainty that Wufei hadn't heard before. As if the mercenary was trying to convince himself of his own words. Intensely curious and somewhat relieved that he wasn't out there, experiencing what they were, Wufei sat back in his seat, gripping the controls that moved his Gundam.

With a frown pulling at his lips, he stared up at the open doorway of his Gundam, then shifted around. Hands flying through various storage compartments, he withdrew a couple of flashlights and accompanying batteries. Then he removed himself from his Gundam, hopping down from the prone piece of machinery to the floor level of the carrier. He moved toward the pilots' section, stopping at a small counter space to set his things down upon. He then began moving through the various compartments, withdrawing medical material and setting out blankets, food rations, water packets and extra oxygen containers. He then eyed his own oxygen pack and helmet, sitting nearby on one of the bench seats, and figured that if he'd joined the search and rescue party, he would only make things worse.

One, because Trowa had no idea where he himself was, and for another, it was just too easy to get lost on unexplored territory. Things were different in the dark.

He then completed his task and returned to his Gundam, hearing the small electronic beeping of equipment as something came within his Gundam's range of detection. Looking up at the screen that monitored body heat, he saw a rather large, distorted shape moving close toward the hangers, and figured it being Heero and Duo.

"01 and 02 are within range, 03," he reported, eyebrows lifting. "How are you doing down there?"

"After Heero gets Duo to settle down, tell him I will meet him at the elevator shaft on level two," Trowa replied. "I'll wait there, now. It would be easier if we had lights."

"10-4. I'm leaving the link, 03. I'll meet with the other pilot to assist with our partner."

"Fine."

Wufei left the cockpit of his Gundam, hurriedly threw on his oxygen tank and helmet, then waited near the doorway of the carrier, turning on one of his flashlights. Upon the light flashing upward from his face, he shifted it to point it at the doorway Heero had taken earlier and froze upon catching someone standing in front of him, looking as surprised as he was.

Only, this person wasn't human-or something that was supposed to be alive.

Flesh hung in strips from its face, eye sockets dark and empty, open mouth revealing the remnants of a tongue and several teeth. It stood upright, wearing ragged clothing that hung off a skeletal frame, a mechanic's hat hanging sideways from a skull that had fleeting wisps of hair clinging to it. And despite the obvious sturdy frame in front of him, he was able to see through the thing, the light running through it, continuing to shine upon the area beyond it. As if the thing were intangible.

Wufei stared back with his slanted eyes wide, unable to believe what he was seeing even as he was looking right at it.

The 'mechanic' recovered, shifting away from him, touching his hat in silent greeting. He then walked off, out of the path of Wufei's flashlight and disappeared into the darkness. Wufei quickly shifted his flashlight about, as the person had simply continued on the catwalk that ran along the length of the carrier, and saw nothing. Unsure of what he'd seen, unsure if he should actually believe, Wufei stared at the flashlight illuminated area, hearing himself breathe slightly hard.

And then he was brought back to reality as he heard Duo's whines and complaints coming from the open doorway, and Wufei set his startled fears aside upon catching both pilots within his flashlight range. But since the encounter, Wufei found that he was rather jumpy, somewhat flustered. Because while he didn't believe in ghosts, how was it that he'd just seen one?

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The sound was very faint, and the words were indistinguishable. He couldn't tell the sex of either or, and in frustration, he frowned and shifted out from underneath the bed. They weren't as distinguishable as before, and it could be one of the others-! He moved out completely from underneath the bed, gripping his hammer, and slowly made his way over to where he remembered the door being. Opening it very slightly, he could hear the whispers much more clearly, and found that they were males.

Trowa? Heero? Duo? Wufei?

He wanted to call out, but memory of that thing came to mind, and he just couldn't do it. He ventured out from the doorway, hearing himself breathe slightly heavy, both because he was afraid that he was wrong about the whispers belonging to his friends and because he was afraid that man would come back and find him in his room.

The pitch black darkness confused him, because he couldn't remember which way he'd come in. The whispers were to his left, so he began shuffling that way, hand on the wall and feet cautiously exploring his step before him. The quiet conversation continued, and as he grew somewhat closer to them, he realized that he could hear snatches of what seemed to be a conversation on a football game that was played nearly thirty years ago.

Thirty years ago?!

Quatre paused in place, the voices continuing with complaints about the running back, about fantasy football players, about fantasy football teams. Was he really believing this? Was he really hearing two guys talk about football from thirty years ago? Maybe they were arguing about the sports' history, but then again...none of the other pilots talked about football...they weren't the guys!

Quatre held his breath, hearing the whispers come to a sudden stop. And suddenly silence was thick and overbearing once more, and he hated this. He hated the entire situation. He didn't want to be here, he was hopelessly lost, and there were ghosts everywhere!

He clung to the wall with one hand, then strained his ears listening for anymore telltale sounds that he wasn't alone. Hearing nothing, he turned to try and look back the way he'd come, and realized that he was looking at a very faint light source at the end of the hall. With hope blooming in his chest, Quatre quickly made his way in that direction, hand on the wall and feet carefully searching out for the next step.

The light was coming from up a stairway that he didn't remember using, but he ventured bravely up, sure that it was one of the guys. He had just reached the top of the stairway when he heard hurrying footsteps behind him. In terror, Quatre let go of the wall and began running at the light. It was very dim, very uncertain, but it was a light and he was going to reach it whether or not something was behind him.

The sure footsteps grew closer, and Quatre felt his breath hitch in his throat. The light was coming from an open doorway, so he ventured inside, coming up short when he saw that it was another furnished room, the light being a child-like nightlight that was plugged into a battery operated base on top of a white dresser. Staring at it, wondering how it was possible for a battery to last this long-wait, did he actually believe that the ghosts here were talking about something that happened thirty years ago?!-he heard the footsteps sweep past the room and down the hall.

Releasing his breath, Quatre turned back to the light, and studied the room. There were three cots lined up on the furthest wall, with at least two more dressers shoved into any open space. The floor was cluttered with child toys and clothing, and judging from the decorations that were tacked up in various spaces along the walls, this was a kid's room. Well...duh, he thought with annoyance to himself, turning in a slow circle. Then he turned back to the light, reaching out to grab it, finding that it was a rather dusty shape in the form of a daisy with a thick stem, and even holding the light made him entirely happy that he had something of use. The hammer clutched rather loosely in his hurt hand and the light in the other, Quatre cautiously ventured out from the room, poking his head out. The dim light barely affected the nightlight, but it was light nonetheless, so he wasn't going to complain.

He began to find his way back to the stairway he'd used when the world suddenly changed.

The lights came on.