5-Mar-2001
*Warning: DUO ANGST*
Title: Chasing the Crown, an Extended Family Fic
ExFam Authors:
RavynFyre - ravynfyre@hotmail.com
Diane Davis - fenwyck@radiks.net
von - sablexo1@yahoo.com
bonnejeanne - bonnejeanne@yahoo.com
*Guests to be announced*
Category: yaoi, AU
Rating: PG-13 for now, that will change
Pairings: 1x2, 3+4
Spoilers: Series, Endless Waltz, Mission: Arcadia
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing characters and universe are the property of the copyright owners.
Kenny, Duan, Wufan, Tryan, Carter, Jack and the Ripper, and everything relating to Rip & Jack's universe are ours. No money being made here.
Feedback: Any and all comments, feedback, critiques welcome, be they short or long.
Please feel free to direct feedback to any or all of the authors!
WARNINGS: AU (Alternate Universe), Original Characters, LEMON in some sections. Kiddie-Angst.
Duan took a sip of his juice and put the glass back down on the table a little ways away. He didn't feel very good and his stomach hurt as he thought about the conversation he and Kenny had just had with Duo. Leaning over the tabletop, he placed his head on his arms.
Kenny watched Duan and went over to him. He leaned against the other boy. Then, closing his eyes, he moved his arms around the other boy. It was hard. But he didn't want to see Duan this way.
Duan felt Kenny's arms around him and felt his weight against his own body and sighed deeply. "So, you're not mad at me?" he asked, pressing his eyes into his arm to block the water. Duan hated that he cried so much. He always regretted it and worked especially hard not to do. If only he could stop the bad feeling part, he could be tough enough.
"No," Kenny answer in a soft voice. "I haven't been mad at you since we were four."
That bit of news caused Duan to pause and try to remember when they were four. In that instant, the bad feeling stopped and he smiled. It was just enough to give him space to feel better and he took it. Kenny always had a way to do that. Taking another deep breath, Duan moved to sit up. He wrapped his arms around Kenny's neck and hugged him. "Thank you. It feels better," he said, then looked at his friend with wide violet eyes. "How do you feel?"
Kenny accepted the embrace. One time, back at the base, he felt a little weird about hugging Duan, but since they'd met the older boys, it seemed like something that was ok to do, and he knew it helped his friend. It helped him too but Kenny didn't want to think about that.
"I feel..." he started to say 'fine' but stopped. "I feel weird, Duan. I'm afraid. What if we are wrong? What if we fuck up the best thing that ever happened to us?" Kenny used the adult word easily since they were alone. He took a deep breath. "I guess we just have to try not to."
Duan nodded. "I feel like I shoulda kept my big mouth closed... a lot of times. I keep talking back at them and try to be good and all, but it doesn't work. So, I try real hard. But that doesn't work either. I think it's all my fault. I think I made Duo sad," he said.
Kenny tugged Duan's hand. "It does work sometimes. You work. I'm... proud of you. You didn't make Duo sad. Stuff did. Stuff besides you," Kenny said quietly, but earnestly. He dropped his eyes wishing he knew what to say better.
Duan looked at his friend, then placed a hand on his shoulder. He nodded. "I understand that," he said. "That about the stuff. Sometimes, it gets confusing, though. But, I'll try harder. I'm scared too."
"You don't need to be, Duan," Kenny said. "Yours turned out all right." He looked at his foot. "I thought mine did too, but now I'm not sure."
Duan shook his head. "Yours is ok too. I think Duo was right. I think it's the Crown. Mine turned out ok, but it's like he's a part of it too. Sometimes, I don't think he can hear us. Maybe that's the Crown too."
"Maybe," Kenny said. After a moment, "What *is* the Crown, Duan?"
Duan shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "... but it's gotta be something bad."
Kenny frowned. "It had something to do with why there weren't kids back home for a long time, before the Storm. Isn't that right?"
"Yeah," Duan answered. "And it's got something to do with the greenies, too."
Kenny nodded briefly, remembering this also. "It... it makes people... bad?"
"I think so," Duan replied. "Maybe it makes them mean like the people at the base."
"Or makes em do bad things like experiment on little kids, like they did to Carter," Kenny added thoughtfully.
"That sounds right," Duan said.
Kenny suppressed a sigh. He sat on one of the stools next to Duan. "How can we beat something like that?"
"I don't know," Duan said. "But, we'll figure it out when the time comes."
Kenny decided that if Duan was feeling more upbeat, he would not express his doubts at the risk of changing his mood back again.
"Hn," he said, but he nodded.
Duo pushed the tiny window open enough to poke his head inside to peer around. Seeing the room devoid of any other occupants, he opened the window fully and heaved himself through with a flexing of his arms. He turned back to shut the small portal, but decided against it, pausing for a moment to take a deep breath of the soft breeze ruffling his bangs through the window. After a few calming breaths, he moved away, slipping over as close as he could get to the nearest quiet corner where he slouched down to the floor against the wall. He started to relax, but some inner sense of disquiet prompted him to crawl over to the window and shut it with a decisive thump. Once done, he crawled back to the safety of his quiet corner and collapsed back against the wall again, sparing a moment to run one callused hand through his bangs. As he drew his hand away, a crisscrossing of scars across the palm caught his attention, mesmerizing him as he contemplated the rough surface.
Amazing how the same hand could stroke his lover to completion, comfort an innocent child to rest, and control the fates and destinies of thousands, maybe even millions. He turned his hand over, examining minutely every inch of its surface, every pale tracing of scar, every vein and hair, every individual line of detail crossing the worn skin. His hands looked so old for only being 17. They felt old, like he did inside sometimes. Like right now.
Briefly, his life seemed to stutter skip through his mind. The bits he could remember flashing through hazily like a well-worn movie, every once in a while, pausing on a frame for a split second longer than the others. The day Solo taught him how to nip his first pocket. His harrowing flight through the hospital with the plague serum clutched in tiny, shaking hands. The trusting, yet frightened faces of the children from the gang, looking up to him expectantly after he'd returned from carefully burying the best friend he'd ever known.
His mind seized on that image, helpfully substituting the Arcadian children's faces in the places of the L2 children's. He drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, rocking forward as a deep sigh escaped him. That same feeling of helplessness from when he was a child rose up and threatened to swamp him. He was only 17, damnit. Yeah, it was a mature 17 most of the time, but still, kids his age weren't even in college yet, and here he was, responsible for children, and through them, possibly the fate of an entire world. He'd already had a hand in deciding the fate of his own world, a couple of times. When will it have been enough?
He clenched his jaw, biting his lower lip guiltily. That was unworthy. After all the pain and death he'd been responsible for, it would never be enough. It just wasn't fair to the kids to force them to rely on him. They deserved so much better than a bunch of ex-terrorists. Every time life threw a monkey wrench at him, it seemed like he let them down. Like this morning. So much happened in the conversation with Kenny and Duan, and Duo knew he'd missed all the important stuff. It was like a brass ring, sitting so enticingly just out of reach.
Wufei's words, "Be their ally," floated into his mind out of the blue. Ally. Realistically speaking, Duo figured that the kids probably weren't looking to him with the same life or death urgency as the old gang from his childhood. After all, here they had clothing, and food, and shelter, not to mention things like mandatory video game time, trees to climb, and space to run. He also knew that they were well enough capable of finding these things for themselves, even if it were a concern. They were bright and resourceful, quick on their feet, and clever beyond even Duo's ability to keep up at times. Their quickly developed plan to follow to the second base back in Arcadia was all the proof he needed of that. So where did he come in? Was he supposed to be a parent? A friend? What exactly WAS an ally in this case? It was so hard to try and be a responsible role model when what he really wanted to do was go live the childhood he'd never gotten, and make sure they got it too. Then again, how could he keep their respect if all he did was scarf sundaes and play games? Did he even want to keep their respect? When did being a role model end, and being pretentiously wrapped up in an ideal begin?
He blew out a heavy sigh, loosening his tight hold on his drawn-up legs a bit so he could lean back and stare at the pitched ceiling above him. It seemed that every time he indulged in his impulse to try and "parent" them, he upset them somehow. The more he worried about their safety, the less safe he seemed to make them feel. Perhaps he was concentrating too much on how to keep them safe... and not enough on simply being there for them. He straightened up a bit and bit his lower lip, thinking hard.
Whenever they'd come to him with a problem or a concern... he'd immediately tried to find some sort of resolution for them. Some sort of band-aid to fix the problem. Rather than letting Kenny work his way through his discomfort himself this morning, Duo had neatly tried to assure him everything was fine, and would be fine, even when it was obvious that it wasn't.
Why? What had prompted him to tuck tail and run? Yeah, running and hiding may be his normal MO, but not at the expense of the kids. Things weren't all right. Kenny was deeply troubled by something involving Heero, Duan seemed to be growing suspicious of his lover, Carter was having nightmares about Heero's future, and Duo's braid was getting an inordinate workout of late. He hoped that Tryan, Wufan, Wufei, and Sallah were doing okay during all of his preoccupation. One crisis at a time was about all he could handle at the moment.
Had he really lied to the boys this morning? He sat up straight, his arms tightening unconsciously against his legs. His wide violet eyes stared off into space, deep in thought as he rapidly assessed the conversation. Slowly, his breathing leveled out, calming as his tight hold on his legs relaxed bit by tiny bit.
No. Or rather, if so, he'd been fooling himself as well, which was just as likely. He let out another explosive sigh, shaking his head at his own unrealistic wish for everything to actually be fine. Life didn't work that way. It was a nice dream, but a dream, nonetheless.
He leaned back again, stretching his legs out before him and clasping his hands behind his head. He vowed to make an effort to not try and whisk all the discomforting things away with a few hasty, and in the long run, useless words. Besides, it didn't work anyway. A sudden flash of insight lanced through his brain.
"Those little... damn. Maxwell, you've been played," he muttered, shaking his head.
His eyes narrowed as he ransacked his memory, thinking back on every tense moment between himself and the kids, or rather, mostly Kenny and Duan. Time and time again, when things had gotten rough, and Duo could feel his grip on the situation slipping away, the boys had skillfully moved the subject away from whatever was bothering him. Even at their own expense. Damn, they were good. And apparently bound and determined to take any and all blame, rather than let it rest upon his own shoulders. A wry grin split his face as he shook his head again. Now they were stealing his MO. Next thing he knew, they'd be building their own Gundams and terrorizing colonized space.
Of course, that could be fun too. An irreverent corner of his brain cackled gleefully as he thought about the upcoming party at Relena's. Dignitaries from all over the world and colonies, food, music, alcohol, ex-soldiers, six Gundam pilots, five manic kids capable of taking over the world with or without assistance, one weird pacifist, and a partridge in a pear tree. Oh the possibilities.
The cheerful thoughts were short lived, however, as his mind retreated back to comfortable paths of self-recrimination.
He had a knack for that lately it seemed. More and more it was looking like he could give Quatre a run for his money on the guilt and accepting blame department. Idly, Duo wondered what the average shrink would think of him and his mental state. Probably lock him up tight and throw away the key for good. More than likely, spouting some "Post-Traumatic-Stress-Disorder" nonsense along the way. Hell, they'd probably even be right, too.
But that was neither here, nor there. Musing about his own mental instability, while amusing in a masochistic sort of way, wouldn't help resolve the issues with the kids.
Well, if he could simply stop trying to rush about fixing everything for Kenny and Duan, that should help a lot. Duo snorted to himself as an odd corner of his brain suddenly informed him that he was effectively telling himself to relax.
"There's a riot," he muttered to himself, "I need to relax. What a world."
That left Carter.
A great deal many of the problems Carter seemed to be having wouldn't be solved until they'd found, and destroyed, the Crown. Duo had no idea how any of those mind game things worked, so he really didn't know how to help the young blond. All he really could do was try to keep things calm and happy in the house, and hopefully reduce the mental battlefield by one front. Well, if he could manage to keep from setting Kenny and Duan off anymore, that would be at least a small victory for everyone. Tryan, thankfully, never seemed to fight with anyone, and was a source of strength and friendship for Carter, so that front was covered too. Wufei, always the calm, focused one, or so it seemed, and even when in turmoil, had an uncanny knack for keeping his thoughts ordered. Sallah seemed to be adjusting well, and, given her new late night penchant for video games, seemed to be enjoying life here on the colony. Duo shook his head, grinning wryly to himself as he realized that he just equated video games with happiness. Which left Wufan. Well, he hadn't seen Wufan trying to overly emulate Wufei in a while, which was good. Rather, the boy seemed to be doing a good job of using Wufei as a mentor, taking guidance from the older Chinese youth, while attempting to retain his own characteristics and sense of childish fun. Of course, with as distracted and... frankly wrapped up in Heero and himself as he'd been lately, Duo was probably missing some rather obvious signals.
He frowned to himself as he tracked where his thoughts had taken him in the last few moments. Kenny and Duan. Carter and Tryan. Wufei. Sallah. And then Wufan.
Quick memory flashes sprinted through his brain, leaving behind an unpleasant taste in his mouth. Heero and himself. Quatre and Trowa. Wufei. Kenny and Duan. Carter and Tryan. Wufan.
Wufei had always seemed the least approachable to Duo, always so calmly focused on his objective, even to the point of seeming... cold and aloof to the others at time. How much of that was simply due to Duo's own reticence in bothering the Chinese youth? How much of that indifference and quiet superiority had actually been present, and how much had been an illusion, armor for another lost child of war?
All the recent occasions that Duo had, interacting with Wufei, had been insightful, pleasant, and downright enjoyable. Wufei had an uncanny ability to help Duo cut through his mental fog and order his thoughts in a way no one had ever managed. Yet he still managed to retain his wry sense of humor, making it seem like nothing more than two friends talking, rather than a teacher instructing a rather dense pupil, which it so easily could have become with a less honorable person.
Guilt welled up within him again. How long had this wickedly smart, compassionate, bright, and most likely, lonely soul been there, right in front of his blind eyes? Even from the very start, Wufei had been something of the outsider looking in. Granted, the youth had displayed loneristic tendencies, but when had that ever stopped Duo? Just look at Heero!
Duo shifted again, sitting up a bit straighter as he vowed to himself to not let Wufan get lost in the shuffle. He wouldn't let himself repeat the same mistake twice. Not when there were new and interesting mistakes to discover.
"Can't even be serious in your own head, Maxwell. No wonder you're such a dope sometimes..."
Wufan standing at the doorway while Heero and Duo tried to fix things with Kenny and Duan after their little adventure with the tree. Wufan standing deferentially off to the side while Duo desperately tried to keep Kenny and Duan from shutting them out because of some stupid thing Duo himself had said or did, any number of times. Wufan, always putting others before himself, and trying with all his heart and soul to be just like Wufei those first few tenuous days... Weeks... who knew?
Duo shook his head. The boy deserved better. They both did. One way or the other, he'd make sure they got it, too. It wouldn't even be hard. Wufan was such a joy to be around, just like they all were. And Wufei... Well, with Duo's sudden interest in martial arts, and the Chinese youth's willingness to teach him, they'd struck up something of a new understanding.
Duo smiled fondly as he recalled when he'd found that old copy of "The Tao of Pooh" on his nightstand. Wufei understood him well, it seemed. A serious book on philosophy, masked in a humorous context, as explained by endearing fictitious characters... A perfect, in-character way for Duo to absorb the deeper message. Not that he wouldn't have been able to work his way through a dryer, more serious dissertation about the philosophy, but he had an appearance to maintain, after all.
Besides, it was more fun to play the fool. Both for the shock value he seemed to inspire in others when he let his intelligence and cognitive thinking skills slip out, and for the sheer joy of just having fun. That was part of the reason he enjoyed hanging out with Rip so much. That man knew how to have some serious fun.
The world didn't owe Duo Maxwell anything. Despite everything the world had put him through, he didn't think it owed him a damned thing. But the hell if he wasn't going to live it up when he could, to make up for all that earlier crap. And, aside from his somewhat... self-destructive tendencies, Rip seemed such a kindred spirit.
Carter's earlier words, "He's old, but he's not," came to mind. Well, Rip was in his... what? Nineties? Yeah, that was right. Duo blinked, having a hard time wrapping his mind around that concept. Youthful appearance aside, Rip just plain old didn't act like a tottering old dodger. Of course, that was probably the point to Carter's cryptic remark. It amazed Duo that someone who had already managed to live at least one full lifetime, could retain his manic sense of adventure.
He reached under his jacket, pulling out the knife Rip had given him from its hidden sheath. A wicked smile broke over his face as he contemplated the razor sharp blade, turning it this way and that, watching as the light flashed along its length. Almost absently, he started tossing the knife up in the air, watching it flip and arch back down, twisting in its path until his hand flashed out and snatched it back into his grip. A flick of his wrist and it was up again. Over and over, he watched, mesmerized by the twinkle and skip of the blade tumbling up and down. A corner of his brain reminded him that if he screwed up, if he missed and caught it the wrong way, he'd probably lose all of his fingers. Strangely, that not only didn't deter him, it egged him on to making the blade gyrate more crazily in its flight.
What a very Rip thing to do.
He didn't even try to fight back the smile that broke over his face at that thought. His fist flashed out, wrapping around the hilt firmly, and halting the knife's airborne dance. He tore his gaze from the shining surface to glance over that the back wall, the one Rip had vanished through earlier.
The gift of the knife had been very appreciated, although totally unexpected. Duo hadn't intended his own gift to Rip to be anything other than an apology for Heero's antagonistic behavior. Although, the more Duo thought about it, the more it seemed to him that Heero amused Rip to no end.
The thought of those two in a real knock down drag out fight frightened him. Duo had no doubts that Rip would win; that man was positively uncanny. But Heero would give a good accounting of himself. Or maybe not. It depended on if his lover was being rational and calm, or if he gave into his jealous, emotive side and let that rule him. Rage was a good fuel for fire sometimes, since it burned hot and fervent, but it also burned fast, leaving you spent and tired very quickly. It also muddled your thinking, forcing mistakes.
Idly, Duo found himself wondering if Rip would kill Heero, if the two of them got into a serious fight. Something about the manic redhead seemed to whisper to Duo that he wouldn't take the situation as seriously as Heero would, opting rather to enjoy it. That being the case, would he finish it? Or just hurt the Japanese youth until Heero couldn't fight anymore, in the hopes of a later rematch? Or would the redhead get so caught up in his fun that he slipped and ended it anyway?
Duo hoped he never had to find out. He didn't know what he would do, either with himself, or with the kids, if he ever lost Heero. He had the sudden, sinking feeling that it probably wouldn't bother most of the kids as much as he thought it would. As much as it would hurt him.
Duan, in particular, seemed very... wary of Heero. Kenny's words, "He hurts you sometimes," came to mind.
The hand not occupied by the knife unconsciously slipped up to the back of his head, massaging gingerly along his scalp at the nape of his neck.
It had been very annoying at first, Heero tugging on his braid. Annoying, and somehow... violating. It was more than hair to Duo. Both the sheer mass of it, and the braid. It was the one thing, the only thing, he had in his life that he could truly call his own. The one thing offering him a tangible link to his past, and the memories, both good and bad. His hair was the link to himself, to everything that truly made him Duo Maxwell. He could actually touch it, point out a specific place along its length, and know that that part belonged to a certain time period in his life.
This inch, Solo. These inches, Maxwell Church. This length, his time on the street again. Here, the sweepers and Dr. G.
He could run his hands down the shining mass, confident in the knowledge that those he'd loved most, those who had shaped his life the most, had done the same thing.
The braid itself... One strand for Solo. One for Father Maxwell. One for Sister Helen, who'd taught him how to take the three and weave it into a whole. She'd taught him how to keep it safe, and give the mass the strength of solidarity.
His hand trailed down the silken rope of hair, pulling the tail end into his lap to be stared at intently. It was more than just hair. It was all that remained of the memory and honor of three shining souls who didn't deserve the fate they'd been given. It was Duo's promise to them to make things right, and to leave things better than he'd found them.
Didn't Heero understand that?
Well, he hadn't at first, because Duo hadn't told him. To Heero, Duo's hair was nothing more than a useless adornment. Although, it had seemed to fascinate the Japanese youth. Perhaps that's why he started his habit of tugging on it in annoyance. It had been annoying at first. And then, after a while, after Duo had thought he'd lost Heero for good a time or two, it because somewhat endearing. A private joke between the two of them. Like "baka," and "omae o korosu." But lately... Lately, his braid seemed to be becoming something of a leash. A tangible tie to the Japanese youth, which he used to control Duo, or punish him. It wasn't quite so endearing anymore. Of course, it didn't help that of late, Heero had gone from gently tugging on it to yanking somewhat firmly. It hurt.
Both outside... and in.
Duo blinked, suddenly realizing what about it was bothering him so much. The annoyance and irritation Heero inspired by treating the braid so casually, so callously. Even when the cobalt-eyed pilot knew what the braid meant to Duo. Duo bit his lower lip, fingers brushing reverently over the chestnut strands.
How far a step was it then, to go from viewing such a precious object with so blasé an attitude, to viewing the person in such a manner? How long would it be, if this trend continued, before Heero quit seeing him as Duo Maxwell, ex-Gundam pilot and life partner, and started seeing Duo Maxwell, treasured spoil of war? And from there... to something even less?
Heero wouldn't do that. Couldn't do that. Duo refused to believe that could happen. They loved each other. Didn't they? They'd promised each other forever, and formalized their union at any chance they got. Duo had heard more than one person liken them both to jackrabbits in heat.
There's more to love than sex, his mind helpfully supplied.
Kenny and Duan's earlier words about everything being "okay" because of the sex sprang at him. Something about how the two of them viewed his relationship with Heero, about how they seemed to equate it with sex, bothered him. There WAS more to love than sex. So why did the boys comment about it all being okay because of the sex, rather than it all being okay because of the love?
Duo tried not to be overtly sexual around the children. Something about his brief stint at the church, and his slight brush with catholic upbringing prevented him from doing otherwise. Why, he wasn't sure. That same brief catholic upbringing should have prevented him from finding love with another boy, but there he was. Besides, his time on the streets, doing whatever he had to to survive, should have cured him of any romantic notions about propriety and decency. Yet, somehow, he still had a hard time initiating any overtly sexual contact with his lover, outside of the normal teasing he bestowed upon everyone.
A frown creased his brow as a stream of memories flooded his brain. From that very first time when he'd egged the Japanese pilot into admitting his feelings for Duo with a rough kiss, Duo had yet to initiate intimacy. No. Not strictly true. That one time in Arcadia when he'd been so angry with Heero and that damned gun of his. When Duo had been frightened so witless by the thought of losing Heero, that he'd let all his pent up frustrations and anxieties out. That one time. That single time. The only time he'd ever been the real initial aggressor.
Not that he wasn't an aggressor. Once Heero would start something, Duo often quickly took the lead. But not until Heero would make the first contact.
Duo blinked, perplexed at the revelation, and desperate to prove himself wrong as he flipped through memory after memory. Why? What could possibly be inhibiting him? It wasn't the kids. He couldn't use them as his excuse, because this had been going on for long before Arcadia. And it only seemed to be getting worse as time went on.
Duo Maxwell, the ultimate hedonist, inhibited? Impossible!
And yet, there it was. The person bound and determined to live life to its fullest, to not let anything get in his way of having the most fun before the chance was whisked away, was holding himself back to avoid offending his taciturn lover. Deep inside, Duo lived in such constant fear of upsetting Heero by doing something wrong, by living too much, that he had slowly let the Japanese pilot assume responsibility for him.
"No fuckin' way..." he breathed to himself, his fists tightening on both knife and braid until his knuckles were white.
No, he didn't want to lose Heero... but not at the expense of his own soul. No. He had to be wrong. Heero wasn't like that. No... He had to be imagining things. Yes. That's what it was. He was trying to justify his own shortcomings by blaming them on someone else. Yes. That made sense. Running from his problems again, rather than owning up to them.
His hands, however, didn't unclench.
Heero loved him. He loved Heero. Enough said. Right?
Duo shook his head, gaze unconsciously darting back to that back wall. If he loved Heero so much, why was.... Why had he been so disappointed this morning when Rip had asked him to leave? It went deeper than missing interacting with the redheaded Arcadian.
Duo's chest tightened suddenly as he realized that part of his disappointment had been because... Because Rip hadn't seemed overly affected by his state of undress. Duo bit his lower lip. Hard.
Flirting was one thing. He flirted with everyone, even Wufei...
Even Wufei... Duo stared off into space, his expression stricken as he realized how much he'd been flirting with Wufei. And Rip. And given half the chance, probably every other attractive male he could get his paws on.
How could he profess to love Heero when he wasn't just flirting, but he was downright teasing anyone he found attractive? How long had he been doing that?
His gaze darted over to the wall, staring at it pensively as he began to wonder if he'd actually forgotten his shirt and shoes this morning, or had unconsciously intentionally left them behind in the hopes that Rip and or Jack would be here.
Damnit! Life wasn't supposed to be this confusing! If your philosophy was to live life to the fullest and take every opportunity to do so, then why was the thought of him so overtly teasing someone so distressing?
Because they deserved better than an uncaring, selfish street rat. All of them.
His eyes fixed upon the wall again, his breath catching in his throat as he struggled to deny it. His amethyst eyes darkened in self loathing, and his face pinched a bit in denial.
What kind of person had he become?
Lost in these thoughts, Duo slowly became aware of something outside himself. If he'd not been so deep in reverie he probably would have known instantly that he was no longer alone, but only because his instincts were so finely tuned. There was no sound or movement that betrayed it, only the faintest of vibrations, not even in the range of human hearing, but which sent a slight signal to the braided boy through his skin.
Duo blinked himself back to awareness, looking around the room with darting eyes as he tried to lock down his thoughts again.
A few feet from the back dividing wall, Jack stood casually, one hand resting negligently on his hip, watching the young ex-terrorist. He was as always immaculately dressed in something that looked expensive, yet a bit on the daring side. His blond hair with its seemingly deliberately dark roots gave the impression of a tarnished starlet, something his skillfully made up face did nothing to dispel. Jewel green eyes were like light shining through a glacier's fissure.
"Oh.. uh... Hi, Jack," Duo stuttered slightly, caught off guard by the Arcadian's appearance, "Sorry to intrude up here... I... was looking for someplace to... think, without bothering Carter..."
Jack nodded. He walked over to the small single window and leaned on the sill, looking out. "You made a good choice. This room is insulated. And you are welcome here. You aren't intruding... if anything I am, on your thoughts. I won't stay. I needed to give Ripper some time alone but there are many places I can go."
Duo glanced away suddenly, the ghost of a grin he'd been trying to summon up fading as he peered intently at the knife still clenched in his fist. He swallowed hard, and then opened his mouth to speak.
"I- He- I... owe him... an apology... I think... He..." Duo shook his head, letting the rest trail off into silence as that darkness of self-loathing once again rose up within him.
Jack looked over his shoulder at Duo, his eyebrows lifting slightly. "Really? I doubt it. Perhaps by your lights but certainly not his... apology... to Ripper..." Jack smiled at the thought. "For what?"
Duo glanced up nervously before fixing his gaze back on the blade in his lap.
"For... This morning... I didn't mean to... be so... forward, I guess..." he said softly.
Jack turned fully and leaned against the window frame. "No? How disappointing."
Duo sighed explosively, cutting off whatever the blond may have intended to say.
"That's not strictly true," he said with a bitter laugh, "I did... but... it's not fair... to him. Or Heero... I-" he broke off, shaking his head sharply without looking up.
"Ah." Jack nodded. "Fidelity. Interesting human concept." He shrugged. "But you see you have different values, Duo Maxwell. You feel you've cheated, by implying something that you probably won't deliver. But you don't value the game as we do. In the end, it isn't what you've done. Time sweeps it all away. It's whether you passed the minutes in pleasure, with interest, or as dull measures without life or meaning."
Duo shook his head a little as Jack began to speak.
"I can't honestly even say that," he murmured, almost inaudibly to himself, "The temptation..." He snorted to himself, looking up at Jack then and meeting the green-eyed man's gaze with one of his own.
"So... everything's okay, as long as you're having fun?"
Jack smiled slightly. "I don't know how to answer you," he said simply. "I think you are talking about morals or ethics... the human concept of honor. It's fascinating of course but I doubt I'll ever fully get it. I don't expect you to get my point of view either. All I can tell you is that by distracting Ripper, you make a contribution towards keeping him alive. I don't expect that to be particularly important to you, but it's something I appreciate. There's a void inside him that calls a little too loudly when he becomes bored, you see."
Duo cocked his head, really listening and considering, rather than wallowing in his own self-recrimination.
"It is important... He's..." Duo broke off then, a real grin, rather than the fake one he'd been trying to summon earlier, breaking over his features, "Fun."
Jack chuckled. "I agree." Though the expression in his green eyes did not particularly soften, they took on the slight reflected warmth of sunlight off a glacier.
"You're troubled about more than flirting with my partner, or even the temptation to do more," the eternally young man mentioned.
Duo's hand flexed unconsciously on his braid, taking comfort from the warm silk. He glanced away, towards the window itself for a moment, before looking back to Jack.
"How long-" he stopped himself mid-thought, a rueful smile twisting his lips, "Strike that. Even I can learn... The Crown... Can it... still affect someone that it hasn't been in contact with for a long time?" Duo asked slowly.
Jack nodded. "Oh yes. Its strength varies, its reach... but it seems to be able to reach quite far when it's strong. The closer a human has been to it, the more deeply it sinks into them. And it can influence humans that have never been in contact with it. It reaches into a mind on a subconscious level. Like a post-hypnotic suggestion, to use an appallingly crude example."
Duo nodded thoughtfully, glancing off as he filed that away. Unconsciously, he stroked the last few inches of his braid again, an old habit of nervousness and discomfort.
"Can anyone really... know someone?" He shook his head and snorted before Jack could answer, "Strike that. That was stupid."
Jack tilted his head. "If you think so. I can really know someone. But the process isn't always pleasant for the person in question. It depends on how hard they fight it. But I imagine that isn't what you are talking about. You're thinking about your partner."
Duo glanced up through his bangs to meet Jack's cool green gaze.
"Never claimed to be to terribly subtle. Something like that, yeah."
"But you are subtle," Jack said, smiling slightly. "There is a layer of subtlety in you that is quite fascinating. Hidden quite appropriately in plain sight. Your partner is troubled. He has a great inner strength but it can be turned against him from inside. It will be an interesting contest."
"Contest?" Duo asked, frowning.
"What you think of as good and evil," Jack commented. "Vying for the souls of so many... If you believe in such things as souls..."
Duo's face grew serious as he replied, "I have to. Otherwise, what's the point?" He sighed and glanced away for a second, still clutching his braid tightly. "What... can I do, then?" he asked slowly.
Jack shrugged. "What you believe to be right," he said. "I'm not good at addressing moral questions, having none. But I have seen a strange kind of mathematics in the occurrences of these struggles. And evil is not the only side with an appreciation for irony. Your world is interesting to me because it is a place where the struggle has come out in a very noticeable way. I see the hand of the opponent, and I see the touch of his opposer, testing their strategies quite openly. Fascinating."
"What exactly, IS the Crown, anyway?" Duo asked, cocking his head.
Jack chuckled. "An artifact that predates time. A physical remnant of a non-physical culture. Evidence of an intelligence that preceded the existence of your universe."
Duo blinked.
"Deep," he commented, "Somehow, I can't quite wrap my head around that... "
"Then try this... an annoying piece of junk that continues to operate on automatic until it can be found and turned into dust," Jack said, and for the first time there was a flash of emotion in his cool tones and a momentary shuddering of magma under the icecap in this gaze.
"Now you're speaking my language," Duo replied with a somewhat feral smile, "Why exactly are you two tracking all of its various incarnations? Wasn't taking care of it back home enough?"
Jack crossed his arms over his chest. "If we cared to stay there, perhaps. But there's Ripper's boredom to look after. At first we thought it was simply an odd coincidence that every parallel world we traveled to had a Crown...." He raised an expressive eyebrow. "As to why.... it annoys me," he said simply. Another very brief flash of hot, rather than cool green and then the ice was back in place.
"And it's a way to pass the boredom," Duo guessed shrewdly.
Jack inclined his head. "That is true. Perhaps in time we'll feel differently," he shrugged. "I've seen indications that it could be a long time..."
Duo smiled to himself, finally releasing the tip of his braid. He leaned back against the wall behind him again, resting his head along the smooth surface as he peered at the ceiling.
"So... He really doesn't mind, then?" he asked, returning to their initial topic in one of his trademarked shifts.
"Ripper... does not endure what he does not wish to," Jack answered simply, with a very slight smirk.
"Ah. I'll keep that in mind," Duo replied. He remained motionless for a moment, before finally pushing away from the wall and bouncing to his feet. Hands that were long acquainted with bladed weapons, quickly, and almost absently, stowed the knife back in its sheath under the jacket.
"I should go. This inactivity is beginning to get to me," he said, tossing a grin at Jack.
The blond inclined his head. "You do remind me of him, a little. Another time."
"Heh. Gimme another seventy years of eternal youth to play with, and I might remind you of him a lot," Duo quipped back, "Thanks, Jack."
"Charming," Jack said, as if to himself. He smiled. "Don't tempt me." He met Duo's eyes and then quite suddenly he was no longer there, leaving a soft pop of air imploding into an empty space where a body had just been.
Duo shook his head as he walked over to the window and pushed it open.
"Show off," he muttered good-naturedly before he shimmied out the window and dropped to the ground below.
TBC
End of Part 7
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