It was supposed to have been a simple scouting mission, completely routine. No one was supposed to have been in that sector of space. And Duo had been looking forward to what would amount to a joy ride in his beloved gundam.
But noooo...something just had to come up.
And in this case something, or rather several somethings, came roaring in on him. Before he realized what was happening a dozen enemy Taurus Mobile Suits had surrounded him.
Fsht, fsht, fsht. The lasers rained down on him. Is side the Deathscythe’s cockpit Duo bounced hard against the controls, as his gundam was battered ceaselessly. Klaxons began to sound as the systems went red. He was in trouble now!
But his attackers weren’t trying to destroy him. Instead they seemed to be going out of their way to prevent inflicting any fatal damage. His mind worked quickly. They want a prisoner then, a small rational corner of his mind calculated. Frantically he worked the controls, trying to get the great machine clear of his adversaries. After all running away had kept him in one piece before. He wasn’t psychotic like Heero. He saw nothing honorable about going down fighting.
And running away would have been a good plan...except for one thing. No matter what he did the mobile dolls stayed with him. His heart leapt into his throat as he realized that there was no way out. Not this time. Looking about desperately all he could see were the enemy. They were everywhere. The vast emptiness of space had become decidedly crowded.
Blam. Some kind of a large projectile hit him. There was an explosion behind him, the force of which threw Duo foward. The restraints snapped and his chin smashed painfully against the console. Soon all he could see were stars that had nothing to do with what lay in the depths of space. Then those sparks of lightbegan to give way to darkness.
Fighting against the approaching unconsciousness he struggled to make his body work. Groping blindly he felt for the little trigger that he never thought he would have to use. He may not be may not be as reckless as Heero, but he wasn’t going to be caught either. He knew what happened to OZ captives. The lucky one were executed immediately.
No. He wasn’t suicidal. But if he was going to die then he was determined that his death would be a useful one. The very least he could do was try to take as many of these hiretsukun with him as possible.
Sucking in a last, ragged breath he depressed the self-destruct button.
Nothing happened.
Eh?
He pressed the button again, desperation taking over.
Still nothing happened.
His gundam bucked beneath him as another shot landed on the much battered armored surface. A second explosion rocked the cockpit, sendign him careening into the side panel. His head hit against a shape ledge painfully. Something warm began to run down the side of his face. He tried to think of something, tried to do something...but it was do hard.
And he was so tired.
The darkness came for him then. His exhausted body gave up the fight and slumped over the consol. The last thing he remembered was fervently praying that death would take him before he woke.
"Aaaaiiiyeee!" Duo jerked awake with a start. His stomach heaved at the sudden movement. Clapping a hand over his mouth he did his best to quell his traitorous innards. Swallowing the bile that had risen in the back of his throat he lay back down. There was nothing for him to see. Wherever he was it was pitch black.
They’ve got me, he realized. He hadn’t died. He had been captured. His heart sank with the realization. It would start soon...the interrogation that was. And if he couldn’t contrive a way to escape–or kill himself–then he would be forced to divulge what he knew. And the others would be in danger. It won’t happen, he affirmed to himself.
Somehow...somehow it would work out.
Slowly he brought himself back up into a sitting position. With his hands he could feel the corse blanket that was beneath him. Ripping off the material he felt around for anything that might be useful. Under that was a cold, hard metal cot that was welded to the wall. There were no convenient springs or ropes. Sighing to himself he had to admit that he really hadn’t been expecting anything else.
Leaving the rumpled bedding behind he gingerly swung his battered legs down to the floor. But when he tried to stand he nearly passed out and his stomach rose again. A concussion then. He suspected that was the least of the damage he suffered and lowered himself back to the cot. With careful fingers he began to explore his body, seeking the worst of the damage. Amazingly enough though all he could find were minor cuts and lots of bruises. The concussion was the worst of it after all.
Well that was something of a relief. A concussion he could handle, he hoped. If anything had been broken that would have made things very difficult indeed.
But, having identified the problem he still had to "see" if there was anything useful in his cell. However walking was not an option. Instead he settled for crawling about on his hands and knees, his nimble fingers make note of very crack they encountered. The floor was a smooth metal like the cot. And when he came to the wall he repeated the proceeder carefully. But asides from regular lines that where one section of the wall ended and another began, there was nothing. No window, no wall sockets, noting at all. His heart sank again. There had to be something he could use!
The ventilation! There had to be some way air was getting into his cell or he would have asphyxiated long ago. And if there was ventilation, then there was possibility a way out. His spirits rose a little, only be dashed again by the realization that whatever ventilation there may be was beyond his reach. He wouldn’t know were it was until his captures decided to turn the lights on...if the cell had lights.
Or...he could wait until they tried to move him. Then he might have a chance to make a break for it. He smiled grimly to himself. He wasn’t out of options yet.
Running his hands over the wall before him he located where the door was sthen walked, or rather crawled, over to the apposite wall. There he wedged himself against the steel and prepared to wait. Facing the door he determined that no one would surprise him.
The wait wasn’t a long one. He wondered if they were monitoring the room or if it was just luck that someone opened the door. At the same time a bright over head light was switched on and he was blinded. Raising his right arm he tried vainly to shield his eyes from the glare. He heard rather then saw the door snap shut.
Foot steps. The person was moving briskly towards him. Before he could register anything more then the person’s proximity a large palm struck his left, unprotected cheek with enough force to snap his head around as his up raised arm dropped to his side. Stoically Duo took the blow. With deliberate slowness he turned he face back towards the person and an insolent smirk spread across his face.
The glare from the light was subsiding as his eyes adjusted. He saw that the person before him was a large man in an OZ uniform. No surprise there. But what nearly had Duo craking up with laughter was the particular shade of red the man’s face had gone when faced with a smiling captive. Hmmm, this one would be easy to piss off. That could be a good or a bad thing, depending on how he wanted to play it.
A fist cracked down on the to of his cheek bone. Stunned, Duo sprawled on the floor, his arm trapped beneath him. When his mind started working again the first thing he thought of was, Okay. Pissing him off is a bad idea!
At some point he realized that the man was shouting at him. He tried to focus on the words. He thought the man was wanting to know his name but he couldn’t be sure. The world wasn’t making a whole lot of sense at the moment.
Reflexively I shook his head, trying to clear it. Big mistake. His gore rose threateningly. He leaned forward and opened his mouth. The contents of his stomach emptied on the floor at the man’s feet. The OZ soldier, jumped back slightly and looked disgusted. While Duo struggled to recover and sit up once more the man moved around the mess that had been made and grabbed the young pilot by the front of his jacket.
"Who are you? What is your name?" The man demanded. Glazed eyes focused on him. A gurgling sound could be heard coming form the boy as he struggled futilely in the man’s grip.
"Max-well," the boy wheezed past the chocking grasp the man had on him.
The man in the uniform smiled. It was a sickening, twisted expression that made Duo’s stomach churn. "Maxwell...what?"
He didn’t answer. He wasn’t going to give the bastard anything else. And the way the man’s grip as tightening the young pilot would pass out soon. He certainly couldn’t answer questions when he was unconscious. Wheezing he did his best to summon another smirk.
The man seemed to realize what was happening and let go of the boy, throwing him against the wall to the side. Duo collided painfully against the metal then slid down into a boneless heap on the floor. All he could see was stars, his eyes refusing to cooperate. Heavy foot falls were the only warning he had then a booted foot impacted against the front his exposed ribs.
"Maxwell...What?!" The man’s voice grated against the air itself. His displeasure a palpable thing.
Even if he’d wanted to answer–which he didn’t–he couldn’t have said anything. Clutching his abused side the boy was racked with coughing spasms. The pain that lanced through his body was intense but not the sort that accompanied a broken bone or three...yet.
A hand wadded itself into his jacket and jerked him upright. This time the man’s grip wasn’t cutting off his air but he wasn’t in any condition to take advantage of the fact.
The man’s face was very close to his own. When the man spoke again it was with venom in his voice. "We have your gundam. We know you’re one of the terrorists. Who are the others? Four others. Who are they?!"
"Nn." Duo would let himself say anything. In the last few seconds he had come to the realization that he wasn’t going to survive this. That was fine. He just hoped the man would make it quick.
Again the man threw him across the room. This time he landed just short of the cot attached to the wall. His bruised side rasping painfully against the smooth surface. It was to much. He just wanted to lay there. It hurt to think, let alone trying to move. Please...let it end soon.
He wouldn’t be so lucky.
The other came up behind him and manhandled him onto the cot so that his stomach was pressed against the rumpled blanket. Eyes widening he tried to struggle out of the other’s grasp. Wildly he tried to swing his arm behind him, anything to fend off his aggressor. A sour, amused noise could be heard from the man as he grabbed Duo’s arm. There was nothing for it. He had to fight! He couldn’t let this happen!
But as he struggled the man firmed his grip on the boy’s wrist. When Duo came close to conecting with a desperate kick of his leg the man pulled...Duo screamed as a sickening pop sound reverberated through the tiny cell. The agony of his newly dislocated shoulder took out way any further need to fight. Limp and sobbing into the corse blanket he felt the man callously pull down his black jods. Followed by the sound of a zipper being opened. But there was nothing he could do.
Heero...I’m sorry. I failed.
The man’s rough hands worked on his butt cheeks, opening them. The sound of Duo’s anguished shriek accompanied the man’s gratified grunt as his pushed brutally into the boy’s tight body.
Too much...it was just too much. Duo was grateful as the dark clutches of unconsciousness claimed him.
Part 2
Duo came back to himself sometime later. He hurt!
The lights were off again and he welcomed the darkness. He was still half draped over the cot. Getting his one good hand beneath him he tried to push himself upright. The motion sent a spasm of pain lancing through his shoulder. An insistent reminder that he was in real trouble.
He thought back to the rudimentary first aid course that had been part of his training. When a shoulder was dislocated, the instructor at intoned, circulation was cut off as the blood vessels were strangled. If the shoulder wasn’t back into place quickly that arm would starve for lack of blood. When that happened the only thing left to do was to amputate the useless appendage.
Since Duo wasn’t fond of that notion he decided to remedy the situation. With his feet under him once more he blindly reached out his good hand and felt for the wall. Finding it he carefully inched his way around the cot, managing to bang his shins only once. But the discomfort of that minor abuse paled in comparison to the rest. Warily he moved over to the wall and lay his back against it.
Taking a deep breath he gritted his teeth. Pulling a few inches away from the wall he rotated his bad shoulder forward. Then before he could lose his nerve he smashed it back against the metal siding.
Crack!
Duo screamed as his should popped back into the socket. Before had been little more then a dull throb, now the area was laced with white hot agony. His knees buckled and he sank to the floor sobbing.
After an indeterminate amount of time he remembered to breather. With slow movements he made his way back over to the cot. Gingerly he pulled himself onto the ledge and proceeded to pull his pants back on, trying to salvage what was left of his dignity. Dragging the scratchy blanket over him he huddled there. With his mind no longer occupied he forgot about the pain of his shoulder as his mind replayed events for him in the most exacting detail. He was shaking with realization of what just happened.
A keening wail escaped his throat.
Weak! He had been so weak! How could he have let it happen? How?!
Pathetic. That’s what he was.
If only...
He didn’t realize that he had fallen asleep until he awoke again. Not that it really mattered. Nothing mattered any more.
The door to his cell opened. The shadow of a large individual blocked out the light. His eyes becoming very large, Duo pushed himself against the wall trying to become as small as possible.
The over head lights were flipped on but this time he was ready for it and had his eyes closed. He didn’t want to see who was there anyhow.
There was a clang of metal on metal as the door snapped shut. A noise that was to harsh to be called a chuckle carried towards him.
"Shall we try again?"
It’s him! No. Please no!
Foot steps rang against the floor. "Who are the other rebel pilots?" The voice sounded almost reasonable. Almost.
Keeping his lips tightly sealed Duo waited. There was nothing more for him to do.
His eyes still tightly closed he jerked reflexively as a calloused hand cupped his chin and cheek. The hand closed on him uncomfortably and his head was forced backwards knocking into the wall painfully.
"Look at me, Slut!"
When he didn’t open his eyes, his head was banged against the wall a second time. To spare himself Duo did open his eyes. The hunger and the fury he saw in the other man rough square jawed face made him want to sink into the floor.
Please no! He wailed to himself silently.
The man must have seen the fear in his eye since his leering sneer widened hideously. Those hard brown eyes seemed to devour him. He was pinned beneath that gaze.
"Tell me who your friends are, Slut!"
Duo whimpered in the back of his throat but said nothing. No matter what he had to suffer he would spare them! He swore this to himself even as the man’s foul breath washed over him.
Don’t give up, a small part of his mind raged. You are not helpless. You are Shinigami!
Taking heart in those words the boy did the unthinkable...he lashed out at his attacker. Punching with his good arm he connected with the other’s solar plexus. Moving desperately he forced his foot into the other's stomach, trying to push him further away. The man staggered back! His heart leapt into his throat as he dared to hope...
Those fugitive hopes were dashed when the man came roaring back towards him. One blow...two...three...four...Duo lost count as the man beat him, screaming obsenities. There was nothing for it, the punches and kicks kept coming. But he was beyond caring.
Let him kill me. Please...I want only death now...
But Death wasn’t listening.
Eventually the man lost hold of his rage and the blows ceased. Large hands picked him up by the collar of his jacket, pulling him upright with his feet dangling off the ground. "Who are the other four pilots?!" Without waiting for answer he threw the limp boy against the metal cot.
Claw-like hands ripped his jods from him and a vice grip clamped down on his soft member. Duo whimpered as the man’s hold tightened.
"You know," the man said conversationally as he harshly fondled the boy, "I hope you don’t tell me who your friends are. If you did, I would have to stop. And I don’t want to stop."
The man forced the boy’s face into the coarse blanket on the bed so that his now naked butt was left hanging in the air. Duo hadn’t even realized the man had unzipped his pants. Without warning the man rammed his large member into Duo’s tight little hole. The animalistic scream that tore free of the boy’s throat said it all. But as the man pumped viciously in and out of him, the screams subsided to pathetic mewls of distress, as the boy lost what little energy had been left to him.
When the man was done, he pulled the boy up and forced Duo to his knees on the cold metal floor. The young pilot’s head lolled on his shoulders and a cruel hand grabbed him by the hair, forcing his head back so that he had no choice but to look at what was in front of him. It was the man, he was standing there with his legs spread slightly, his pants' still unzipped.
Duo was dismayed to see that the man’s length was still ridgid with blood. He realized then that the man hadn’t ejaculated into him.
"Suck it!"
The hand laced through his hair forced him forward. When he tried to keep his mouth closed the grip tightened and he could feel the hair being torn out by the roots. Gasping he had no choice but to take the man’s length into his mouth. For a split second he thought of just biting down, of maiming the bastard.
The other might have heard his thoughts because his head was pulled back so that he had to look at that cruel face. "Don’t. Don’t even think about it, boy! Or I’ll show you what real pain is!"
Numbly Duo nodded slightly, as much as the hold on his braid would allow at any rate. It seemed to satisfy the man who pushed the boy’s face back against his length. Cautiously he opened his mouth and the young pilot accepted the organ into his being. With guarded action he carefully shielded his teeth with his lips. Slowly he began to suck even as his stomach churned with revulsion.
The man decided that it wasn’t enough and began pumping against the boy’s head. The tip of the man’s length rammed savagely against the back of his throat and Duo gagged. A heavy hand swatted him upside the head as the man growled at him. Doing the best he could the young pilot tried to ignore what was happening.
The man would use him. But that didn’t mean Duo had to be there. At least his mind didn’t. Gradually he was able to let his mind drift elsewhere...to a place where the pain and humiliation was but a distant memory. Yet even as he achieved a kind of peace within himself he was rudely called back to the real world.
The man’s seed was spurting into his mouth. The thick, slightly bitter liquid made him gag again and he tried ineffectively to open his mouth so that he could purge himself of the man’s essence.
It was the grip on his braid that stopped him. And the man was growling at him again. "Swallow it boy! Drink it all!"
Holding back tears, Duo did as he was told, trying desperately not to taste what he was swallowing. With convulsive gulps he completed the task. The man, his member now soft, pulled away though he didn’t release his hold of the boy’s chestnut hair. Duo wasn’t looking at anything in particular, his eyes cast down to the floor, so he didn’t see the satisfaction on the man’s face though he could well imagine it.
He wasn’t really surprised when the man threw him to the side. He landed with a dull thud against the metal floor and didn’t move. His mind wouldn’t accept what was happening.
Weak, he railed at himself. You’re so fucking weak!
Vaguely he was aware of the man doing up his pants. He seemed to have lost interest in his play thing. At some point the door opened as a second voice could be heard. "It’s time. The telecast will be in ten minutes. Bring the boy." A pause. Then, almost as an after thought, "is he dead?"
Foot steps. Then a booted toe was prodding his bruised ribs. Despite himself he moaned hoarsely in the back of his throat. "Not yet," the man replied. The two pairs of hands were pulling him upright. His eyes lapsed closed as he was held on his feet while his pants were refastened about his waist. Duo was beyond caring. He barely even noticed when they began dragging him out of the cell.
Please, he pleaded silently with the universe. Please...let me die!
End Part 1
(:./aiyoku/soul1)
