16-Nov-2002
Title: House of Khushrenada
Author: bonnejeanne (bonnejeanne@yahoo.com) and von (sablexo1@yahoo.com)
Category: yaoi, AU, sequel, horror?
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: 1 + 2, 3 + 4, 5 + 6
Spoilers: None
WARNINGS: Darkish. Weird premise, AU, possible lemon later, knowing us.
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing characters and universe are the property of the copyright owners. Our stuff is ours. No money being made here.
Feedback: welcome.
NOTES: Another in the Classic Monster Series. Previous fics in the series are American Werewolf in Space, Bloodline, Broken (Silver) Arrow, and Name of the Pharaoh. All can be found at GWA.
The title is a nod to classic horror movies, 'House of Frankenstein' and 'House of Dracula'.
As Otto lifted the flaccid form of the Japanese pilot and carried it to the wing that had been set up to accommodate the old scientist, Treize stayed behind for a moment, kneeling beside the unconscious werewolf. He allowed himself a moment to observe the creature. Amazing. He'd thought lycanthropes had disappeared from the Earth. Now, thanks to this one, he knew that there were still a few, hiding their existences carefully. But even more remarkable was the appearance of this Were from Space. How could such a being have come to be, in the Colonies? And how could his nature have been concealed? Was it possible he had not known of his heritage until arriving on Earth?
Treize leaned closer and allowed one gloved hand to brush across the thick chestnut fur that emerged through the holes in the net. He had so many memories stored in his undying brain that he accessed them only rarely, they were too much of a weight and eventually, he suspected, would drive him mad. But as he brushed the werewolf's fur, one of them surfaced unbidden, like a bubble rising to the surface of a bottomless tarn. A hundred years ago... no, it was more than that. Finding himself on the landing of a spaceport dock, refusing to hurry, but only getting there in time to see the back of a man, familiar, broad shoulders and tall body slightly stooped, because he had learned to think of his own body as an enemy... Even in the set of those shoulders you could see it - a sadness that seemed to make the posture appropriate. A sadness that wore on the man, age after age.
Treize remembered his lips shaping a name, but without sound. It was unlikely that whatever alias the man was using to become a worker on the space colony project, he'd welcome hearing his name. They'd talked, weeks ago. Treize had been unable to persuade him to stay. As brilliant as he was, as clever, as adept at manipulating people, he hadn't been able to win this one. Perhaps it was because he hadn't been able to say the one thing that might have given the gentle man pause: that when he left, Treize would be alone. Oh there would always be prey. Always be unknowing acquaintances. Always be minions. Lovers. Victims. But the man who was leaving Earth was the last of what Treize could think of as... equals. Not the same, but like.
He'd kept his eyes and ears open for news from the colony project. Anything that would reveal the presence of his old... acquaintance. That would usually mean unsolved murders. Disaster. Blood, mayhem and death. But what he waited for never came. And after a while, Treize admitted that perhaps the man had finally found some measure of peace.
And he'd closed his mind, and thought no more of it.
This child was not the man of his memory. There could hardly be any resemblance. But how else could he have come here? How else exist? Was it possible that the man had actually sired offspring? And that they had done so, continuing the line until one of them returned to the Earth at last, and a genetic heritage and a longtime curse, had woken?
Treize stroked the young lycanthrope's fur one more time, whispering the name he'd been given. "Duo Maxwell."
Getting to his feet, he left the Were on the floor, but not without shaping that other name one last time before he turned to leave the room on his way to other guests.
'Talbot.'
Moving through the dimly lit corridors, Zechs frowned to himself. This was beginning to look like an Ancient Dungeon Master's game. The fact that Relena might have been simply used as bait to draw him here infuriated him. Yet, it made good strategic sense and he had to give the General credit.
Zechs thought about his time at the Academy and meeting Treize Khushrenada. He had enjoyed working with Treize and thought he'd understood what it meant to be a soldier under his mentoring and tutelage. Now, everything took on new and sinister meanings. Did Treize care about the war at all? Romefeller? The Alliance? And what of his interest in Wufei? And why did he choose to bring Otto into his fold?
Opening one of the doors off of the corridor, Zechs peered inside in search of his sister.
Wufei accompanied Zechs, for a little while so caught up in his own thoughts that he paid little attention to what they were actually doing. A threat would have been met instantly and savagely, but everything was too quiet.
As Zechs opened the next door, Wufei shook himself out of his self-preoccupation. He recognized the search pattern - he'd used it, or one like it, himself.
With a little growl, he placed a reluctant hand on the taller man's arm.
"I know you said we were to go together, but I could find her for you - faster than this," Wufei said abruptly.
Zechs looked down at Wufei and nodded. "Please," he said.
Wufei's eyes glowed red briefly and he took a step back from Zechs. Then his body seemed to dissolve into darkness. In the next moment, Zechs was, as far as he could tell, alone.
For Wufei, what he did next could not really be described. There were things he'd learned in the heat of his hunt for Treize, things he did in the heat of his rage, that he could hardly translate into human terms when he resumed that shape. He only knew that he was able to detect the heat of living bodies, that they "glowed" to him somehow, in a way that could be seen through most solid substances, the exceptions being things that were dense, like Gundanium, and lead. There were other things that didn't seem to fit in that logic: wood could sometimes be 'dense' as he thought of it, but only certain kinds. Treize could have explained it all to him, but Treize had chosen to "make" him and then let him run, leaving him to learn what he'd become on his own.
For the first time, Wufei allowed the sacrilegious thought to occur: what if he hadn't run?
Was that what Treize had expected? That he would stay, and become some kind of disciple or minion? That he would stay and tamely wait to be shown the meaning of the strange assault? Had he truly...?
A few seconds of that were all he was willing to allow and he forced his consciousness back to the task. It shouldn't be hard to find the warm living body of a young girl, in this empty house.
It turned out to be harder than he expected. For one thing, there were "blank" spots: parts of the house he couldn't penetrate or sense through, and rather more of them than he expected. It made him uneasy. For another thing, there were more of the living present than he'd expected. And for a third, there were... other things in the house as well. Not human... or human but somehow... different. He was surprised to find that he could sense Treize easily - the master vampire was not hiding his presence from Wufei any more. And at least one other nonliving being... having encountered him, was identifiable as Otto. But there were things Wufei didn't understand and they slowed his search.
However, he did find her. It helped that Noin was there as well - a girl and a young woman, both living. Noin's energy seemed a little dimmed. There was a... almost a taint around it. Something that tasted to his senses of Treize.
Gathering himself, he returned to the room where Zechs waited.
Appearing to form out of the darkness, his face pale and almost ghostly before it solidified, he looked up at the tall young man who had become his lover... and his.. prey.
"She is in another wing. Noin is with her. They are northeast of here. This is a very large building."
Zechs frowned. "Are you all right?" he asked.
Wufei scowled slightly. "Of course," he snapped. Then he shook himself slightly. "Why did you ask me that?"
"Because, I wanted to know," Zechs answered. "Nothing more. Northeast it is, then," he added, as he moved towards the direction Wufei had indicated.
As they moved through the hallways, trying to find a reasonably direct route to the northeast wing, Wufei finally broke the silence.
"How do you do it?"
"Do what?" Zechs replied, peering down the hallway in front of them.
"None of this seems to faze you," Wufei muttered. "As weird as it all is."
Zechs looked back at Wufei. "It fazes me," he said. "I've been terrified beyond belief, beginning with meeting you on the roof a short while ago. " Looking up a moment, Zechs shook his head. "I take that back. It started with the wolves, or whatever they were, in that village before I was given the assignment to take care of you," he said. "If I don't show it much, it's entirely due to childhood training."
Wufei frowned. "Wolves?"
This time, Zechs smiled. "Wolves or something like that. They were larger than any wolves I've ever seen and there was something about them that was almost human. My forces cornered a pack of them, or thought we had. If I hadn't seen one with my own eyes, I would have dismissed it as superstition."
"Strange," Wufei commented. Zechs was freaked out by some animals? There must have been more to it than that. But Wufei couldn't figure out what it was.
To reach the northeast wing, they found themselves descending to the first floor via a curved staircase. The large room at the foot of the stairs was half illuminated by lamps. The light gleamed on something at the bottom of the staircase.
Wufei frowned. This was one of the things he'd sensed and not been able to place.
Zechs saw the light and moved towards it. From his vantage, he could see the netting on the floor and something inside of it. As he came closer, he suddenly stopped.
"Speaking of," he said, kneeling down.
Inside the net, he saw a large, chestnut-furred animal. Reaching down, he pulled a part of the netting away.
As he did so, the creature began to stir. Slowly at first, then it shook itself and its eyes snapped open. They were an impossible shade of violet-blue. The oversized wolf looked around, and Zechs could see, and feel, the rage building almost instantly.
It jumped to its feet and shook itself hard. Its head and shoulders were free thanks to Zechs, and to a place where the net had been torn apart. The shake dislodged the rest. A low growl started in the beast's throat as its beautiful eyes fixed on Zechs kneeling on the floor.
Zechs watched the beast rise and shake itself free of the net. He found the proximity both thrilling and frightening at the same time. He resisted the urge to pet the animal.
Looking closely at the eyes, Zechs shook his head. No animal had features like these. He watched closely to see what it would do.
The wolf's lips peeled back as it snarled, showing ivory fangs. Its body tensed and sprang before Zechs could react.
Not before Wufei could and did, however. The wolf found itself crashing into a body that looked smaller, but somehow had the density of a mountain. A backhanded blow knocked the wolf away. As it whirled for a second spring, Wufei's eyes glowed red and his own teeth and talons grew.
Zechs felt his heart pound in his chest at the sudden exchange. "Wait!" he heard himself say, "He is not your enemy."
The words appeared to have no effect on either of the two creatures now facing each other. The wolf sprang again and this time the two beings grappled. Zechs found it hard to tell which of them was making the snarling and growling sounds - probably both were. Wufei seemed almost relieved to have a battle to lose himself in, but his mind wasn't shut off, whatever it looked like.
The wolf was gradually, and with greater difficulty, starting to process information as well. Neither of these two were the ones he wanted to rip apart. However, the feral impulse was too strong to resist throwing himself at his opponent. But the fight didn't go the way it should have. He felt flesh tear under his fangs, but the taste of the blood was... strange. And the flesh seemed to pull itself together even as he savaged it. It was wrong....
Suddenly his opponent twisted and spun out a kick that wasn't part of the blood frenzy they had been engaged in. The spinning kick knocked the wolf back, putting space between them.
Gathering himself, the wolf stared at his opponent. Like the blood, the face he saw didn't look human. It was a mask, glowing red eyes slanted in an Asian face, but the teeth on the being weren't human... Something about that face, as strange as it was, teased at him. A face he'd seen once before...
With himself between the wolf and Zechs, Wufei could think. Zechs' words came back to him. He didn't know if they'd been meant for his ears, but he thought about it quickly. This creature had been netted. By whom? Treize, perhaps? He'd said something about other guests...
Slowly, Wufei straightened. His claws and fangs retracted. The wolf was still snarling, still tensed to spring, but he waited. The damage to his body was already repairing itself.
Suddenly the wolf howled. Then it shook itself again, as if trying to shake off something intangible. Ignoring the two men for a moment, it looked around the room, not finding the one it sought.
Lifting its head, the wolf howled again, and the sound was one of anger, but also of pain, and loss.
In another part of the great mansion, Quatre heard the unearthly call. His hand clasped his chest and he looked up. "Duo," he said, breathlessly.
Trowa blinked. "Duo??" He'd heard the sound as well and would have bet it didn't come from a human throat. However the expression on Quatre's face was such that he simply didn't ask any more questions.
Meanwhile, Zechs moved forward. Forgetting the danger, he touched Wufei's shoulder and checked him over. He could see the Asian's golden skin slowly knit itself back together. Still, Zechs did not take anything for granted.
Looking past his lover, Zechs saw the wolf in a posture of pain. "If you can understand me," he said, "We are here to find my sister, Relena. Your quarrel is not with us."
The wolf's head swung down and those amazing violet eyes fixed on Zechs as if taking in every word. However, there was no reaction to the former OZ soldier's statements.
Instead, the wolf turned to look at Wufei. Standing foursquare, which put the wolf's shoulder near the height of Zechs' waist and above Wufei's, it began to pace slowly towards the Chinese pilot. The slow pace was deliberate. Wufei met the creature's eyes and stood still.
Coming close, the wolf seemed to examine Wufei, then its muzzle lifted to take his scent.
It wasn't a human scent. It was more like the scent Treize had. But there was something to it, some intrinsic chemistry that reminded the wolf of a human it had once known. Not known well, or for long, but had shared a bond with unlike any but three other people.
It took Duo a while to be sure. But once he realized this *was* Wufei, a thousand questions crowded his mind. However, they could not find much purchase there. His thoughts were still heavily feral and fixed on others - one who needed finding above all else, and others who needed killing.
Wufei watched curiously as he was examined. He felt odd. He felt a touch of that shame that always came to him when he faced what he'd become. As if it had somehow been his fault. If he'd been stronger...
Looking into the wide violet eyes of the creature beside him, he said slowly, "I... know you..."
The wolf whined softly. Trust was a hard thing to come by. But he could almost smell the sense of soul-damage on the Asian youth. It resonated.
Sitting on his haunches, Duo reached down inside himself and tried to find his way back to his human form. But the feral mood would not clear from his thoughts. He could not get back. And without his human lips, he could not explain anything to the other pilot.
Getting up, he left Wufei and Zechs and began casting about the room seeking the One Scent. If he couldn't explain, there was no point in wasting time about it. He had something to do that was more important than anything else. Find Heero.
Starting at the place beside the net where the Japanese boy had collapsed, he cast about. He detected the inhuman smell of the one who'd attacked him - Otto. A growl escaped him. He indulged in thoughts of ripping Otto's nasty tasting throat out. The inhuman scent was a hard one to follow but he traced it across the room. Next to the staircase. Along the wall. Then it... stopped.
There was nothing else. If it had been a door, it would have made more sense, but a wall?
Growling, Duo rose on his haunches and clawed at the wall. Wallpaper and plaster came away to reveal a metal surface beyond.
Zechs watched as the wolf tore away the wall. As the metal was revealed, he stood up. "That must be something new," he said, walking over. Bending down, he touched the cool surface of the metal. "Houses of this era weren't usually outfitted with metal walls."
Sliding his hand as far as he could along the wall, between the metal and original wall, Zechs satisfied his curiosity. He looked at the wolf and then held his hand up to the metal and tapped in a couple of places.
"You'll have to find another way around. It's pretty solid and unless you know the mechanism to unlock it, it's not going to work. The house is big, so there's bound to be another way in," he said.
The wolf's head swung around and the violet eyes fixed on Zechs. After a moment, it turned to regard the wall again.
Circling to get a little distance, the creature paused as if gathering itself. Then suddenly the wolf launched itself at the wall, hitting it with an impact that made the wall shudder.
The metal dented in very slightly. That was all.
Picking himself up from the ground and shaking it off, the wolf growled at the wall. Then he glanced at Wufei, and for a somewhat shorter moment, Zechs.
It was a struggle to try and hold the rage back enough to think, but Duo put his best effort into it.
If he couldn't track Otto through the wall.... then Treize. Treize might not be where Heero was, but he'd know where he was.
Casting around, he caught the faint, almost undetectable inhuman scent of Treize. He paused to look at Wufei but there wasn't any way to communicate so he left them, bounding up the staircase back the way they had come. He would find Treize. And the man, or whatever he was, would take him to Heero, if he had to chew him up and spit him out and interrogate the regurgitated remains.
Wufei watched the wolf disappear up the stairs with mixed feelings and a tug at old loyalties he never realized he'd formed.
Zechs glanced at the dent in the wall, then back to Wufei. He walked to where the Chinese pilot stood. Raising his hand, he pulled his hair back over his shoulder. "Do you need...?" he queried.
The Chinese pilot glanced away. "I'm not that weak," he muttered. He glanced up the stairs where the wolf had gone, then back to Zechs. "Your sister is in the other direction. We'd better go."
Zechs took a deep breath, feeling a small flush creep across his cheeks. He walked a fine line between caring for and insulting the proud pilot. He knew Wufei was much like himself and didn't care to be fussed over. However, in his short association with the Gundam pilot, Zechs was beginning to understand those poor souls who had to take care of him when *he* was incapacitated.
"Yes," he said, moving starting down the corridor.
Quatre felt beads of perspiration form on his brow. The howl had shaken him out of his contemplation. He now knew what he had to do. Moving to the scroll encased in the glass, he raised his elbow and struck it hard. The sound of shattering glass was much more satisfying than the pain spiking through his arm. Shaking it to relieve the tingling, Quatre reached inside the case and retrieved the scroll. It felt warm in his hand and soon pulsed in time with his heartbeat.
Looking up at Trowa, he said, "Let's go. We have a lot to do."
The green-eyed pilot regarded his blond companion for a moment. It occurred to him that Quatre seemed to have a bit of a violent streak, then he thought it over. Well, he was a Gundam pilot. Duh.
"Hn," he murmured, and nodded.
They'd already searched the room methodically, but the scroll was the only article from the pharaoh's tomb that they were able to find. It was displayed so prominently that there seemed little doubt that it had been placed to catch their attention.
There were several exits from the room. Trowa glanced at his companion to see if the Arabian had any particular preferences of one over the others.
Quatre chose one of the doors and moved through it much like the March Hare. His face was set and his steps were sure.
The door led to a room that was large and rather empty. There was a desk at one end, near a series of floor to ceiling windows. The desk was empty except for a small laptop computer, a couple of photographs, and a cut rose.
The screen of the laptop flickered with moving images.
Quatre walked over to the laptop. "Maybe this will tell us something," he said.
The flickering images were those of a colony assembly chamber and the people meeting there. The semi-circular gallery was filled with men and women listening to two people at the front of the room who appeared to be debating something. There was no sound coming from the small device, though the word "mute" appeared at the bottom with a control. However, the faces of the people looked somewhat familiar to Quatre, or at least many of them did. The two figures at the front, which were arguing different sides of something, consisted of a stranger and a person Quatre knew very well. The stranger wore a uniform of OZ's space force. The other man wore the same ethnic-styled clothing he had always favored. His father's face looked older. He hadn't been gone that long, why should Master Winner look older? And he was angry - angry and frustrated and perhaps... perhaps there was a hint of something in his eyes Quatre had only seen once or twice. It was something he did not quite dare put a name to, but it was dark.
"Father," Quatre said, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen. He could almost hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears as Treize's words came back to him. "No," he heard his voice say, helplessly.
Trowa frowned, watching his companion's face. He came closer and looked at the screen. Without knowing the people involved or hearing the subject of the debate, it was a mystery what was taking place there. But his intuition, something he discounted almost entirely but which had saved his life innumerable times, painted a picture for him. OZ was making an offer to the colony, he guessed, and from the look on the face of the man who seemed to be challenging the idea, it was about to go in OZ's favor.
After all they'd done and been through, the Colonies were changing. They'd fought to preserve the Colonies' peaceful philosophy and independence, and those things were about to be handed over because OZ had managed to convince people that the Alliance was to blame for the past and they were the solution.
It was an empty feeling, but not a new one. Soldiers always seemed to outlive their causes when they didn't go down in the forefront. He'd seen it before and expected he would probably see it again and again until he was no longer a piece on the board.
Inside him, however, something seemed to answer his thought. It was almost a second voice within, a presence he'd been increasingly aware of once they reached the environs of the house.
*It may be impossible to change things, but it is not wrong to try. In time, they will change. If it takes thousands of years, change will come.*
Conscious of a certain reserve that had to be overcome to do the next action, Trowa placed his hand lightly on Quatre's shoulder.
Quatre felt Trowa's touch and was startled out of his reverie. He saw his father, enraged, turn his back on the assembly and stride from the room. Looking up to Trowa, a single tear fell from one of his teal colored eyes unimpeded. Quatre blinked the moisture away, irritated with himself in the extreme.
"My Father is a pacifist. He will never accept OZ's plans for escalating Mobile Doll production," he said, looking up into green eyes. "Why can't they understand?!" he shouted, suddenly as his fist met the desk.
That was a question Trowa would never have asked. It was also a question he couldn't answer. He watched Quatre, feeling an almost distant sense of pain, like a limb coming back to life.
"Don't watch any more," he said suddenly.
Quatre laughed harshly. "Why not?" he said, brushing his face with his sleeve. "That's all I can do... That's all I've ever been able to do! That's what weak people do, Trowa. They watch! And even when they *try* to do something... they fail! So, why not watch, Trowa? It'll just be another failure! And who cares about losers anyway!" Quatre added hearing his voice fill the dark room.
Trowa felt almost as if he was being battered by a bitter wind coming from the other boy. He was the last person in the universe to have an answer for these thoughts. The very last. And yet, he could not quite stop himself from answering.
"You do, Quatre."
Quatre frowned as his fists balled tightly. Trowa's words slid through the turmoil in his mind as easily as a hot knife through butter. Something in his heart loosened and he could feel the scroll warm against his chest where he had put it for safekeeping. Suddenly, eons of sorrow presented themselves in his mind as if to say, *remember*.
Looking back up, Quatre saw his lover and the pain in the depths of his green eyes. Standing, he hugged Trowa tightly. Feeling the body, so unlike his own, Quatre took a deep breath. "Thank you," he said, leaning back.
Raising his hand, he brushed back the hair over Trowa's face. "Please forgive me," he said, softly. "I made you worry. That's not right." Glancing back at the screen, Quatre felt something new flicker across his thoughts. "I am a lot like him. I think without you... I am him."
Trowa looked down, giving the boy against his body a little shake. "I won't forgive you," he said quietly. "Because there is nothing to forgive. You still don't understand. I don't even know if I *am* worrying. It's not something I've ever bothered with before. All I know is that I do feel something - but that's better than nothing. Believe me on this one."
Reaching up, he turned Quatre's face away from the monitor. He did, however, see the images himself over the Arabian's shoulder. And what he saw told him that there was more pain coming to the one he was trying to hold. He knew Quatre couldn't be protected from it. You could protect people's bodies, but not their minds and hearts.
"Someone is taking a resource satellite out from the colony," he said in a voice devoid of emotion. "They are taking a vote to fire on it. Don't leave me, Quatre."
The last might have seemed like a non sequitur, delivered in the same expressionless tone of voice. Inside, Trowa did not feel empty. He did not feel dead. He felt... afraid.
Quatre's fingers tightened on Trowa's arms. He turned his face to the screen, feeling cold reality hit him. As weak as Quatre thought himself to be, he wasn't a coward. He had to face it. He had to see with his own eyes.
A thousand thoughts moved through his mind at one time. Memories that Quatre thought were long buried or irrelevant presented themselves as he watched in a type of terror that he had never faced before. For most of his life, he and his Father had been at odds, but it had not started out that way. In his mind, he saw happier times sitting at his father's feet while he worked, tugging at his father's hand that seemed so enormous and safe.
Certainly as his own darkness grew, Quatre had flirted with the idea of his father's death. He had always, in his heart of hearts, pictured himself the hero. Holding his Father in his arms, as they finally understood each other. But this was something else entirely. It was too real. Things would never be good between them.
Suddenly, it did not matter. It simply ceased to be important. Detente was unnecessary. Quatre finally understood. He was his Father's son. They were separate people. He could make his own decisions and let his Father make his as well. He leaned back against Trowa as he watched the screen.
As they watched the images on the screen, Trowa could feel the emotions radiating from the body in his arms. He didn't question why, there was no why. From some shadowy place inside himself he felt a soft echo of those emotions, barely saw phantom images of the face of a loved one, leaving him after having dared to change the world.
One arm crept around Quatre and one hand moved up almost stealthily to press flat against the blond's chest, feeling his heartbeat.
Quatre felt strong arms around him. He watched as the small screen displayed the images that would be sealed in his mind forever. The image of his Father, defiant to the end, filled the screen. The words were dulled, but Quatre could tell by his expression that his mind had not been changed. He'd seen the same look in his Father's face many times. There seemed to be one last statement before the image switched to outside of the satellite and then flames.
In Trowa's arms, Quatre gasped. His body struggled for a moment, then the Arabian pilot turned in his lover's arms, holding on for dear life. "Oh Trowa," he managed, before surrendering to grief. Tears flowed from Quatre's face, staining Trowa's shirt. With every tear, Quatre found a place to stand. When the tears subsided, he realized that he had been expressing his grief and letting whatever pain that stood between he and his father go. When he looked back up at Trowa, he felt the strongest that he'd ever felt in his life.
"I will never leave you," Quatre said, in his first declaration as an emancipated person.
Trowa swallowed something that had gathered in his throat. He had no reply for the precious words and simply tucked them into a deep safe place in his thoughts. His arms tightened once and he felt for a moment something brush him that had wings of forgetfulness and loss, but it passed by as if unable to find the prey it was seeking.
"Treize," he said, clearing his throat as he heard a hoarse tone in it. "...left this for you."
Quatre looked in the direction of the desk, then back to Trowa. "Yes, he did," he said.
"Come on," Trowa said, and clasped his hand in Quatre, heading for the next doorway.
/Odin-86/
The moment the syllables reached Heero's ears and were telegraphed to his brain, his body excused itself from his control.
He could see. He could feel. He could hear everything.
And he could do absolutely nothing about any of it.
His body collapsed onto the floor next to the net, his head angled so he could see Duo. He could see and hear the enraged reaction to his own collapse, see the figure of Otto materialize behind him, see the blow before it fell, and see the gleam of a heavy silver ring on the man's hand. He heard the sickening sound of the blow meeting Duo's skull. He saw Duo falter and drop. He watched the still form, counting his own heartbeats, to see if Duo's chest would rise and fall.
Before he could see that, a dark form interceded in front of his face. He was lifted and Duo was no longer in his field of vision.
Heero heard a faint sound and then there was darkness. He felt the jostle of being carried through pitch black and then white light. Suddenly, he felt his body touch something cold and his perspective changed. He was now looking up at the ceiling.
Fighting a small rise of panic, Heero had no doubt where he was. He was back in a lab. Still unable to control his movements, Heero vowed to himself that the man who had hurt Duo would be the first in line for elimination. The thought helped and blocked out the question of what was going to happen to him next.
Little touches adjusted his body, straightening a limb, uncurling fingers. Some of the touches were dry human skin, others metal.
A face leaned over him - familiar. A light was directed into his eyes, blinding him momentarily as Dr. J examined his pupils.
"I know you can hear me, Heero. I'm actually quite pleased to see you showing such signs of independence. In time, you'll have it, if you survive." The old scientist moved deftly, but not quickly, attaching electric leads to Heero's temples, pushing up his tank top to attach them to his chest, then wrists, ankles.
"You'd forgotten that you have a deactivation code. Something tells me I probably should not reactivate you until I'm finished. When that happens, you will forget again."
Inside, Heero fumed with rage. Deactivation code, he thought. Odin-86. That shouldn't be too hard to remember, but he knew that the doctor spoke the truth. He only wished he had a way to mark it or even better, come up with a way to disable it permanently. Priority one, he thought. Then, find Duo and begin the clean-up.
"Your brain is very active, Heero," Dr. J seemed to find this interesting. "I would like to isolate the factors that could have brought about such a change in you. Of course, you may not realize quite the extent of the change. As different as you appear to be now, there seem to be no degradation of your memory blocks. And since Odin-86 only deactivates your voluntary physical functions, you still have those blocks. When you are reactivated, you won't remember anything that I am saying now."
Out of Heero's view, the scientist continued to do something. Heero could hear movement and little sounds of devices being manipulated. "Of course you also won't remember me saying how very pleased I am at the progress you've made. It seems as if you have passed the crucial stage. And you won't remember my admitting to you that I wasn't sure you would ever reach this point. A body can only be revived so many times, even yours, no matter how far technology has advanced. It is a very refreshing change to see that you no longer feel compelled to terminate your own existence."
Heero felt his heart speed up as he heard the doctor's words. He felt more than a little disoriented as the scientist reeled off a list of things he would not remember. He knew that they were true, but the truth was horrific. Now, he understood his feelings and why he always felt apart from others. He was more than just gifted or unusual. He was a monster. It wasn't a teen-age thing for him to have wanted to take his life. It was the only way to remove the monster.
Lying on the lab table, he thought of Duo. What the hell could he say to Duo? How could he face him again? He wasn't free to do what he wanted. He was bound to a grisly lie. His body didn't morph into a sleek animal, tied to the influence of Earth's full moon. No, he was a lifeless husk, manipulated and programmed to the whims of a mad man. A robot was better.
As he stared up at Doctor J, Heero felt a single drop of moisture roll down his cheek. He had been right all along. He was only useful to a point and after that, termination was the only humane choice.
The scientist glanced over and observed the moisture. He peered at Heero closely. "Tear duct irritation?" Dr. J considered. Then in a slightly different tone of voice, he said, "I'm not going to hurt you, Heero. But I need to debrief you now. Odin-22."
The syllables unlocked something in Heero's brain. He felt control returning to his lips, mouth and throat.
Heero swallowed, feeling his mouth move. "Yes," he said simply, noting the command.
"Tell me about the mission where things changed, Heero. Where something occurred that did not fall within known parameters."
"02 and I arrived at the designated drop off point. In the process of completing our mission, we came under heavy fire. I received two shots from enemy fire. Du... 02 pulled me to safety. Anomaly, I was wounded severely enough to be incapacitated," Heero answered.
"Go on, Heero."
With every recollection, Heero began to relax. "My injuries were such that I spent a great deal of time unconscious. 02 took care of me. We spent some time in a cave. 02 left at one point to do recon. The next morning, he managed to get me to a village, where a local doctor provided medical treatment. Later, we helped liberate some villagers from an OZ patrol and I was able to repay the favor by assisting 02," he said, looking up at the doctor. He knew that he wanted more, but Heero held onto certain events and secrets that were not his to tell.
But those were the very things Dr. J intended to find out.
"When did you discover that 02 was non-human?"
"The morning after I was shot," the Japanese pilot replied.
Dr. J studied Heero for a moment. "You're resisting, aren't you? That's remarkable, Heero. You don't need to try and keep his secret. I was there in the room, before. I observed the transformation. It's a fascinating aberration. What is your analysis?"
"He is a natural creature who is in balance with his other side. Something happened back there. It wasn't a natural shift for him. Did you do anything?" Heero said.
A slow smile pulled at Dr. J's mouth in reaction to Heero asking a question. "I did not do anything. I am not familiar with what Treize Khushrenada refers to as lycanthropy. I would have considered it mere superstition if I had not observed it for myself."
"Hn," Heero replied. "If the Colonies have accepted OZ, then are the Gundam pilots no longer needed?"
The old scientist watched Heero closely. After a moment, he said, "I believe the Gundam pilots are still needed, Heero."
Heero looked up at the old man. "For what?" he asked.
"For when the Colonies realize they have made a mistake."
Heero thought about the words for a moment. "You don't know that for certain, do you? The Colonies want peace and while I don't trust what's going on now, I'm not in charge," he said.
"I know for certain that your mission is not over, Heero," Dr. J said.
"Brief me," Heero said.
Dr. J leaned over Heero and reached down, touching the boy's forehead with his human hand. "That's better, Heero. You are a good boy. You have always been a good boy. No matter how much conditioning we used, we could never get you to believe that, could we? But it's true. I will brief you. It will be your last briefing. You will remember your mission but not the rest."
"Doctor J," Heero said, feeling the old man's touch. In his own way, the scientist had been a father figure in his life or at least a mentor. "If you mean this to be my last mission, then let me remember everything. I want to remember it. I admit, I had some old feelings, like before, but some things are different now. I'm not alone anymore."
Dr. J leaned slowly back, and his face seemed to convey an impression of astonishment, which was remarkable when you realized his eyes were mechanical and could not carry expression. He seemed to look at Heero in silence for a long time. Then he said, "I will see what I can do. But your conditioning was not designed that way. When you re-activate, the memory block is automatic. I will try a modification but you will have to do your best to help it work, and even then I cannot guarantee the result."
"That's fine," Heero replied, finding his previous thoughts of homicide against the good doctor dissipate. Perhaps, even monsters can learn, he thought. "Arigato."
"Premature, my boy," Dr. J said, but a slight smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Then he checked the readings on his machines and turned back to Heero. "And now, your briefing..."
End of Part Three
TBC
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