I do not own these puppets
"You just let them *leave*?!?" Pierce was beside himself, pacing back and forth in front of Darius' desk. The commander sat, sipping a red wine, naked in his plush leather chair, white feathered wings modestly covering his body. "Darius! Are you out of your fucking mind?!? We *need* them!" To emphasize, he slammed his hand onto the hard oak, wincing as he felt broken glass shards cut through the skin.
"Like a hole in the head. They're unstable, Pierce, when they're not together. If we can get the boy Unlocked there's no way Dominic can stop us." Darius sat forward in his chair, eyes glittering with some unnamed promise. Pierce couldn't stop himself from staring. When had he lost so much weight? His skin was wrapped so tightly around his cheekbones, it looked as if it would tear at any moment.
"Gods," Pierce swore, waving his hand in front of Darius' face. The younger man didn't even blink, but stared blankly through him. "Don't you feel anything anymore? You used to be--!" He stopped abruptly and stomped out of the room. A thought occurred to him, and he turned around to say something, only to have a sharp burst of pain reverberate through his lungs, burning and clenching at his heart.
He fell to his knees, blood roaring in his ears as his pulse became louder and louder to him, washing over him like a bloody drum. His eyes leaked red tears as blue lines began to creep up his face. With one last choked breath, he fell to the floor, twitching and moaning softly, blood seeping from his cut hand.
Darius watched him impassively, then poured himself another glass of wine. His brown eyes flashed silver for a brief moment, but it could have been the lightning outside...
"195--a good year."
"Is there something wrong, Wufei?" Quatre asked softly. Wufei stared blankly at his hands, as if they contained all his secrets, then returned to his own thoughts. "Wufei, you're so tense I can feel it from across the compound." He sank to his knees next to the Chinese boy, who sat meditating in the empty cafeteria.
"Can't you talk to me, Wufei? We've come too far to let ourselves become separated by what's happened. Lives depend on *us*, directly this time. But we have to stay together, have to stay focused. Please..."
Wufei sat silently, eyes clenched shut tightly, fingers locked into intricate patterns that rested on his silk-covered knees. A long moment passed and at last, Quatre pulled himself to his feet and began to walk away, footsteps hollow on the broken and burned tiles.
"She died, Quatre.
"She wasn't supposed to die, but she did. There is no justice in the world.
"He looked nothing like her. But he had the same imperious attitude, the same smile. He made the same noises when we--"
Abruptly, Wufei stopped and one bandaged hand flew to his mouth, as if trying to stifle his cries. Quatre sat back down beside him, and, tucking his legs beneath him, rubbed what he hoped were comforting circles on his back.
"She was my justice. I hid behind her the way a child hides beneath his bed or a boy hides behind his monster of steel and wires. That part of my life is over now.
"So now, now that my colony lies as dust in space and I have moved on, I discover that she is not dead, that she lives, and that I have entrusted her...safekeeping to my enemy.
"A small part of me wants her to just go back to her grave and pretend that I never knew. I have moved on with my life.
"Yet another part desperately craves what she represents. My old life as a scholar, my homeworld. My family.
"I vacillate between one and the other, ambiguous and hopeful. Hoping that I will not be forced to choose. Yet, fear of decision, of moving forward is cowardly. And I have become a coward.
"And so, Quatre Raberba Winner, what do you suggest I do?" His voice was only slightly lilting, hinting of false impressions and forced bravado.
Quatre swallowed hard.
"I don't know," said the blonde boy hesitantly. "I do know that--nngh!" Suddenly, he fell forward, clutching his chest, sweat trickling down his face in small beads. "Heero!" moaned Quatre before passing out in Wufei's lap.
"Heero? What's wrong with Heero?" the Chinese boy demanded, shaking the little blonde's shoulders, to no avail.
Beneath the water, Duo smirked. It was a good thing he was able to breathe underwater, or else he would *really* have been dead. Idiots, he sighed internally, adding another crime to the long list of things to avenge once he got his hands on Dominic. They were still standing there, watching the pool, waiting for Heero.
< Hee-chan?> Getting no response, he rolled his eyes. Still out cold, probably. Well then, he'd just review his list a few thousand more times...
Crime #1. For attempted homicide of the braided one: Death.
Crime #2. For touching the braided one's braid sans permission: Death.
Crime #3. For a second attempted homicide of the braided one: Death.
Crime #4. For attempted homicide of the braided one's lover: An eternity in hell.
Crime #5....
"Do you think he's dead, Treize?" Dominic's lips twisted into a cherry smirk as he twisted his head around to face Treize, who was standing directly behind him, without moving his neck or body. Fighting down a shudder of revulsion, the former general of OZ sighed.
"Of course he isn't. Pilot 01 is nothing if not resourceful." The demi-god nodded slowly, absorbing Treize's statement and evaluating it for bias. "But he has been down there a very long time."
"It would be nice for us if he would just die." Treize stared, horrified, at Dominic. "Oh, don't give me that look, Treize-*sama*!" He snorted. "He's given us a lot of trouble."
"I thought--"
"Exactly, Treize-sama, that's a wonderful point. I do believe I will reconsider." He took another puff of his cigarette, blowing intricate shapes in the air. A smoke angel flapped her wings desperately, only to be crushed in between Dominic's hands. "Heero would provide the genetic material and my lovely lady Meiran will provide the host. Lovely set up--we would come out with a very physically attractive body for me to inhabit, wasn't that the plan?"
"It--"
"Yes, of course it was, Treize-sama. But no longer! My plans, as well-thought and perfectly executed as they were, have changed. For making us wait, for making this ordeal *ever* so long and complicated, I've decided to use Heero as the host instead of Meiran." He shrugged.
"No need to speak, my Treize-sama. We both know he'll die eventually; what better way than bearing my child, and my new body? What a shame about his face, though. You don't see that kind of beauty in the Japanese anymore; he's a rarity. A prize. I believe I'll keep his body to amuse myself with." He put out his cigarette on Treize's hand, delighting in the slight hiss that escaped from bruised lips.
"I think we've played enough. You get rid of Meiran; she's no longer a factor in this play. Her scenes have been cut. Tell her--" His voice cracked as Dominic's head slowly changed into Wufei's. "Tell her I'm sorry."
Treize nodded and hurried out of the chamber, Dominic's rolling laughter nipping at his heels.
Dominic shed his clothes quickly and dove into the pool, swimming past Duo's prone form and down into the depths of the blackening waters. At the very bottom, he could see a body hovering in the water, limp like a rag doll, and smiled through his teeth. Reaching out one hand, he grabbed Heero by his hair, and yanked him up and out of the water.
He deposited him by the pool and stretched out beside Heero, admiring his naked body, hands itching to run over his skin. The boy was growing clammy with gooseflesh. "Still sleeping, hmm?" He took a quick look around, eyes never resting on the fallen Shinigami, and smirked. "Then you won't mind if I steal a quick kiss, then, will you?"
He leaned down, licking his lips in anticipation, pupils rapidly dilating, and, using two fingers to open Heero's mouth, opened his own mouth. A long, black tongue, covered in some kind of clear stickiness and forked at the end, snaked out and pushed between Heero's lips. His hands fell away as his tongue plunged in and out of the warm recesses of his mouth, holding down Heero's wrists. Even in sleep, his body trembled with fury at the violation and his hands threatened to fly up and choke him.
Growing tired of raping his mouth, Dominic bit down on his own tongue, letting the black liquid spill down Heero's throat, and then bit Heero's pink tongue, drinking deeply, encouraging the mingling of their blood. "With my blood I bind thee, and by the Father so shall it be." He began a set of high-pitched clicking noises with his tongue, complicated in rhythm and pace, then paused to view the results of his work.
The Japanese boy lay on the white tiling, the color a strange contrast to his dark skin, eyes open and glazed over, occasionally rolling into the back of his head as he attempted to fight the spell. Dominic waved his hands, and his legs spread on command, lifting his hips to present him with the tightly wrinkled skin protecting his entrance.
Positioning himself between his legs, he kissed little circles on his thighs, stroking the big muscle in his legs, and took a deep breath, about to thrust forward.
Zechs emerged from the shadows beside the door, smiling as Treize shot him a knowing look and left it slightly ajar. Wherever they were going, he didn't expect to ever see his former lover again. Very well, then; he committed that little knowing smirk to memory, filing it away in a part of him he had annexed off, keeping it sacred. And whole.
He slid in quietly, noting the elaborate pains taken to keep the room from seeming like a trap. Ornate gold carvings and inlays, various Oriental rugs and strange vases adorning every corner. In vain; Zechs could see very well the hidden cameras and small slots for the steel bars to come down from in the windows.
What he found was not at all what he'd expected. After the long crawl up from the pit, he'd wandered around aimlessly until he heard Treize's voice down the hall, and came to investigate. The girl...
"Who are you?" she demanded, holding the letter opener in front of her. Zechs winced; it had a rather soft edge and death by a blunt object was painful and unpleasant. "What do you want? I've never seen you before, so you can't be one of *his* lackeys."
"Miss," he began, trying to take her arm. "We've got to get out of here, there isn't much time--"
"And you know how to get out of this maze?" she snorted, wiping black bangs from her eyes. "Believe me, I've tried."
"I've lived here a long time," he informed her quietly. "I can get you out of here, if you want--"
"What's your name, again? I didn't *hear* you the first time," she snapped, jabbing perilously close to his stomach as she circled him.
"Ashura, miss." The old lie slipped from his mouth like a curse word, and he made a face. She frowned at him, noting the expression.
"What's the matter? Don't like your own name? What kind of a person are you, anyway? Are you a servant? A Key, perhaps?" She lowered the knife in order to peer into his blue eyes. "Are you a soldier?" asked the girl, gesturing to the coat of his uniform.
"All of that is true; now can we please go?" Outside, the storm crackled and boiled as the front of the dark clouds passed over the Palazzio. "Miss!" She glared at him.
"That tells me nothing, Soldier-Key-Servant boy. Now, the door's open and I can see--You!" Zechs turned around slowly, his heart telling him exactly who it was before his eyes came to rest on Treize Khushrenada. How ironic, he thought, holding back a smile.
"What are you doing here?" she said, glancing back and forth from Treize to Zechs, unsure of who was the greater enemy at the moment.
"Meiran," Treize sighed in that cold and yet calmly assuming way of his, "I'm here to kill you." Lightning flashed outside as rain began to wet the windows again.
"Don't you touch him!" Duo screamed, nerves afire. Uncertainty fled; he had to stop him before he laid another finger on Heero! The battle between wanting to preserve his cover and keeping Heero from being raped was not exactly a toss-up.
Dominic's surprise showed on his face as Duo landed a punch that was hard enough to send him hurtling forward, his nose connecting painfully with the floor with a loud . He followed with a swift kick to his side, enjoying the crack that sounded from the area of his ribcage. Every broken bone, every salty tear, all repaid in full. Red clouded his vision as he found he couldn't stop hitting the fallen man, couldn't stop the memories from coming and flooding his mind. One kick, then another. And another punch.
A primal scream tore from his throat as he pulled back his hand to deliver one last blow. Blood, there was blood everywhere...the rats were biting his legs, their tiny sharp teeth digging into the flesh there, dragging down the backs of his calves as they refused to let go...Heero, crying, he was *crying* for God's sake..."I KILLED GOD!"...hands...
...hands?
Hands. The American felt the blood drain away from his face. "Heero," Duo sighed, pulling the unseeing boy into a tight embrace. "Mine..." He buried his face in Heero's neck, nearly gagging as he saw a trail of black blood streaming from the corner of his slightly parted lips.
"Are you all right?" His fingers clenched into his shoulders hard enough to leave small rounded bruises. "Heero?!? Yuy? Hey, you there?"
He nearly missed it, would have if he hadn't been staring intently at his face. A small whimper worked its way free of his throat, awareness seeping at an agonizingly slow pace back into his eyes. The blood began to rush from Duo's ears, creating a dull roar like the ocean crashing along the bay. They embraced, Duo trying to touch every part of him, trying to reassure himself that yes, they were both alive and moving, their hearts beating and skin warm.
"Well," said a slightly nasal voice, "isn't that just *kawaii*?!"
"And?" Meiran seemed unconcerned. "It'll take a bigger man than you to destroy me. You have no honor, and I am honor-bound. Who do you think'll win a fist fight?" She showed a small smile that reminded both OZ soldiers of a certain Chinese Gundam pilot.
Treize snorted as Zechs moved behind her in one swift motion and knocked her out with a well-placed hit on the nerve running along her shoulder to her neck. "What are you doing here, my lovely--"
"Not 'my'," the blonde man snapped, slinging the unconscious Chinese girl over his shoulder. 'Not anymore.' Treize nodded, pressing his lips together in a thin line. "You're supposed to kill her?"
The ginger-haired man turned and faced his former lover, an unreadable expression masking his true mien. "I was supposed to. I suppose I can't help it if a renegade Key kills me and escapes with the girl." Zechs looked at him carefully, noting the differences in the older man. So much to carry on only two shoulders. They should have had a lifetime...
"I'll be seeing you, Milliardo." The two men, former lovers, former friends, struggled with their own demons. Pride won out and Zechs passed Treize without another word, wishing, somehow, that he had said something, done anything, to change what they both knew was about to happen.
Zechs raised one hand and made a gun from it, pointing his index finger at the back of Treize's head. 'I loved you.' There was no time for any other goodbyes.
The silver lance darted from his fingertips soundlessly. And the silence was worse than the sound of a gun going off.
Dominic pushed himself up from the floor, his black blood hissing as it came into contact with the stone. "How touching. Did you think you could kill *me* by bashing my head into the floor a few times, Duo?" The two Gundam pilots clung closer together, eyes wide.
"Did you really think that you had a chance? That by playing your pitiful games, following Darius' pitiful instructions, you could save yourselves? That you could save the world?" He laughed; a piteous sound, too high to be sane. "My arms reach farther than galaxies! You can't run and you can't hide anymore, Duo Maxwell!"
He turned to Heero, eyes beginning to glaze over, waxy and dripping. "And you!" They both cringed at the sound as a roar of thunder chimed as he pointed at them. "Heero Yuy. The incredible soldier. Willing to self-destruct for his mission, any purpose. All you have to do is stick the right label on it." He leaned in closer, licking his cheek. Heero jerked away, wiping it off with his hand. Where his tongue had touched his skin, there were severe burn marks, red and angry.
"I've got a little secret. The missions don't matter. Your war doesn't matter. Neither of you matters. God abandoned m--you, and then he left you to rot in your own waste. Your cross is a false symbol. You lie all the time, Duo; you've lied to yourself for years."
"That's not true. You know nothing." Duo's voice was dangerously low as his slender frame shook with rage. One hand snaked up to caress the crucifix that hung around his neck, heavy with age.
"I know everything about you." His hands reached out to cup both their faces almost lovingly, tenderly as a mother would her sleeping babe. His face was not-quite-angelic, not quite apologetic.
"I love you both."
Duo couldn't stop his stomach from turning as Dominic gazed eagerly into their faces, hoping for some response, some horrified contortion or fearful whimper. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing that inside he was screaming himself hoarse. His skin quivered beneath his steady hand, feeling the rough calluses slide over his cheek.
"The play draws to a close; the villain makes his final appearance. Do the protagonists have what it takes to destroy the antagonist? I think not," he sighed, plucking a rose from thin air. He waved it under their noses slowly, as if trying to tempt them with Eden.
Then, in a soundless explosion of color and light, the rose shattered, and everything in Duo's sight went dark. There was no color, no light, no meaning.
<See the universe through my eyes.>
The world exploded into being. It was overwhelming, it was too much; every blade of grass, every drop of sweat, every human being alive, dead and as yet unborn, every molecule and every thought and it was all so small compared to the rest of the universe, to the stars, made up of tiny molecules, and Duo could feel those tiny molecules, all pulsing rhythmically, moving towards some greater goal. Then, as if to spite him, it all began to tug in a different direction.
He was pulled apart. He wasn't he anymore, he was something. A small filament, a particle in billions, zillions of particles. Small, nothing, and yet infinitely greater than the rest.
<See Him through my eyes.>
The light from the particles was growing, coalescing into a brilliant form, a shadow and a light. It became human, its face molding from nothing. He had a red heart beating in his chest. Thump. Thump. He that was not he screamed. Somewhere in New York a girl dribbled a basketball off the pavement, thump thump. All part of a greater pattern. A greater life. Two gunshots fired and a suspect fell dead onto the concrete. Thump, thump.
It was everything and nothing, it was singular and encompassed the world. Beautiful and horrifying at the same time.
Life as he knew it was over.
He felt himself dropping out of the blackness, out of the consciousness Dominic presented him with. The last thing he saw was that red beating heart, and the small ball of flames growing within, his child, their child, a god and a mortal. Death and life. There was a dark pit at the center, sucking the light from the body into it, making the flames grow stronger.
"So now you know," the older man said softly. "You know what a grand part of the plan he is. He carries God in his heart. I will be that God." He shrugged. "You know how futile your struggles are, how powerless you truly are. All of you. Darius, that traitor Key. Armand, his pathetic telepathic lover. Even Sarsis, who was closer to the reality then all of them, and Pierce, are all misled. You know the truth. You have one move." With that, he melted into the shadows, his eyes watching them from all sides.
Duo looked at Heero, speechless.
"You have to kill me." His voice was firm. "There's no other way, Duo. There really isn't. We are powerless against him; he is as omnipotent as one gets without being God. And only God can resurrect."
"You're not saying that--" Duo gulped as Heero ran a nail along the vein of his arm, slicing through the skin. Blood welled up, gathering at the surface, about to start pouring out of his body when the skin suddenly closed.
"It doesn't want to die, Duo."
"No," Duo said softly. Then his voice grew louder, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "This is crazy! I will not--" Heero covered his mouth tenderly with his own, lips brushing the anger from his face. "That's not going to make it all better," the American snapped, shaking. "I don't care what you say will happen. I lose and I lose and I lose; I'm going to stop losing people and start taking them. You can't make me do it, no matter what you say."
Heero was silent for a moment. "Then we have to destroy him. And that's basically impossible." His fingers twitched restlessly; he curled them into fists and began to punch one hand against his knuckles. "He said we have one move. It's all a game to him. Everything is a game."
"So we stop playing by his rules." His scythe reappeared in his hands, glowing brighter than ever. "What did you see in the rose?" He took a few practice swings for good measure, grinning at the way it swished through the cold air.
"Possibility, I think," said the dark-haired boy carefully. "So you're saying--"
"So I'm saying, didn't you play pretend when you were five? You know, pretend you're a mud monster? Pretend you're a fairy princess in a castle? Pretend you're a Gundam pilot in deep shit? We improvise."
Heero frowned. "We don't even know what we can--"
"That's the point." Duo smirked. "We don't know. We don't play with limits. Don't see an end to it; it's a never-ending curve, Hee-chan." Another slice of his scythe and a hole suddenly ripped open in the air, black and wavering. "I'll bet you if I stepped in here it would take us out of here. But if *you* stepped through, you'd go straight to Hell and beyond." Another pass and the rip closed. "Use your imagination. Hasn't anyone ever said that to you?"
He swallowed hard, eyes never leaving the scythe. "No."
"All this Unlocking and Locking crapola they've been talking about--that's what they mean, I think. Using what you've got isn't good enough, because you define what you've got and then all Dominic has to do is top that. Don't limit yourself to something mortal and mundane." He motioned to the pool. "All that is ritual, to help you believe. It's nothing but water."
Pierce sat up shivering from his dream. Sweat coursed down his muscled chest in tiny rivulets. "Sars," he whispered, using the former Key's nickname. His lover yawned languidly and stretched in their bed. "Tell Darius he has to deploy all the troops. Now! There's no time to waste."
"All of them? Pierce?"
There was no answer.
"Pierce?"
End Book Two, Part Six
Ariana
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