Archive: http://www.fanworkrecs.com
Disclaimers: I don't own the characters from Gundam Wing, I just play with them for non-profit fun until they run screaming back to their creators.
Warnings: AU - AAAAAAAAAAAU. Some yaoi, lemon, violence, language. You should be a legal adult to read this. Open-mindedness helps, too.
Pairings: all over the map; Duo-centric. yaoi and het.
Author's Notes: A huge helping of "suspension of disbelief" would be appropriate before you read this. I'm sure J or G could explain the science behind it, but they're kinda dead right now...
Part 5 ~ Scraps (cont'd)
Duo's steps faltered slightly as he realized Trowa hadn't followed him out into the open area.
His skin crawled, knowing that he was fully exposed to view, and unsure of just how many people were watching. Trowa would be tracking his progress, and trying to peer down all the shadowy corridors leading to this space. But where was Heero?
Duo looked over his shoulder, as if there were nothing out of the ordinary in the torn up deck plates. "You coming, Trowa?" he called out in as normal a voice as he could manage. "If you want the gundanium, it's right over here."
Silence.
But it wasn't a restful silence; it was a watchful, dangerous silence, like the expectant space between gunshots. Duo felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He continued walking, until he was pressed against the relative safety of the thresher, half-hidden within its shadow.
He had to assume Heero was somewhere nearby, listening. He had to give him as much information as he could, to fill him in on the real situation.
"Trowa... I can't get the hatch open with my hands cuffed." He was amazed to hear his voice coming out sounding level and slightly exasperated.
A minute passed, then two.
"OK, so I'll just stand here with a detonator wired into my hair and wait for you to get up the guts to come over."
No sign of Trowa. No sign of Heero.
Duo's thoughts chased themselves around in his head, whirling between thoughts of escape, to the realization that he couldn't get far enough away before Trowa pushed the button, to a vivid imagining of what it would feel like to have the detonator explode against his neck, to wondering where the hell Heero was, and back again. His heart was hammering in his chest, his breath was hissing unevenly and his throat was tight. Damn, he hated waiting.
Finally he saw a blur of motion moving from one of the aisles opening towards the thresher. It was Trowa - cartwheeling, flipping in the air, somersaulting along the deck - doing everything he could to ensure that anyone attempting to make a shot would have an impossible target. The taller man fetched up against the thresher and immediately yanked Duo in front of him, using him as a human shield.
Trowa pressed the muzzle of his gun against the underside of Duo's chin, tilting his head back until it lay against the taller man's shoulder. "Who else is here? Yuy? Chang?"
"The last time I saw Wufei, he was cuddled up in bed with Zechs; and I haven't talked to Heero in months." And he hadn't, in this reality.
Trowa snorted lightly at his reply, but didn't press him for further evasions. "Where is the gundanium?"
"In an empty space among the colony machines, under the deck plates."
"Tell me how to open the hatch you mentioned."
"There's a switch hidden behind the fuse panel."
Trowa dragged him sideways, fumbling for the recessed panel with his left hand while watching for possible assailants. Eventually the fuse cover popped off and clattered to the deck. With a little encouragement, the fuse panel itself came loose and dangled from its wires. Trowa reached his hand in and felt for the switch, flipping it immediately.
The big machine began to rise silently, rocking Trowa forward as the plate under his heels lifted. Duo squawked and let himself fall forward as he was pushed from behind. He could feel the acrobat regain his balance almost immediately, but rather than try to keep both of them upright, he slipped the gun out from under Duo's chin and let him fall.
Duo was still rolling when he saw a fast-moving shadow strike - Heero slammed Trowa's gun arm against the thresher. Duo heard the dull snapping sound, saw the acrobat's face blanch as his arm was broken.
But Trowa had been a mercenary and a gundam pilot, and was not used to giving up at the first setback. He refused to let go of the gun, and a moment later he used his superior height to lift Heero off his feet and throw him down. Heero swept Trowa's legs out from under him, and they fell together in a tangle of limbs, elbows jabbing, fingers gouging and teeth snapping.
Duo got to his feet but stayed back, knowing he would only get in the way. He couldn't even land an accurate kick, the two of them were rolling around so much.
Inevitably, Trowa's injury hampered him enough that Heero could get the upper hand. Trowa ended up on his back with the Japanese man straddling his belly, one of Heero's hands holding his gun arm down, the other slowly prying the weapon loose finger by finger.
Trowa looked once at his gun, once at Duo, and then shoved his other hand under Heero's thigh and partway into his own pocket.
Duo knew what he was going for immediately, and yelled, "NO!! Heero, he's going for the detonator remote!!!"
Heero didn't even spare him a glance. He glared down into Trowa's sweating face and snarled, "It'll only take out a traitor to peace - you think I care? Go ahead and push the damn button!!"
Horror unrolled in slow motion for Duo.
He was yelling his denial, disbelieving and furious as his two former comrades strained against each other. He was taking a stride forward, too slow, too late, when he saw Trowa deliberately relax his fingers from the gun. He was falling to his knees, twisting, bound hands reaching for any kind of purchase on Trowa's sleeve as Heero shifted just the tiniest bit, pulling the weapon away. Duo's numb fingers were slipping and sliding while Trowa forced his hand under Heero's slightly raised leg, stretching down, and in.
Duo was still scrabbling against Trowa's arm when he heard the slight 'click' as the button on the remote depressed.
Duo knew that wincing and ducking were not going to make one damn bit of difference when the detonator fastened in his braid went off and flash-fried his head, but he flinched anyway.
A few moments later, when his litany of "...no no no no no no no..." still hadn't been interrupted by any searing blasts of fire, he slowly raised his head and forced his eyes open.
Duo's gaze slowly traveled down Trowa's body - the wide-eyed acrobat was now on his belly, his hands cuffed behind his back and his bound ankles pulled up and fastened to the back of his own belt - to the hand that held the remote. The thumb was frantically pushing the red button over and over.
He was still staring dumbly at Trowa's flexing hand when Heero reached down and removed the remote, adding it to the small pile of weapons he had taken from his captive.
Duo was still absorbing the fact that the detonator hadn't gone off. He was alive. The detonator hadn't gone off.
Heero's hand appeared suddenly in Duo's field of vision, holding a device about the size of a cigarette package.
The detonator hadn't gone off. Heero was holding something. He was still alive. The detonator hadn't gone off. He wasn't going to die in screaming agony. The detonator hadn't gon- That was a radio jammer.
Duo raised his head and blinked at Heero. "You were jamming the radio signals?"
Trowa winced in realization and turned his head away.
"Aa. I brought it to prevent you from calling for help from the Sweepers before I could capture you." Heero pocketed the device and turned away, looking through the things he had confiscated.
"You knew that remote wouldn't work..."
"Aa." Heero nodded, satisfied, as he held up a silver key.
"You knew... But you let me think... You couldn't TELL me?!?!?!?!?"
A flicker of something - sympathy? understanding? humour!? - lightened Heero's expression for a moment. "If I had told you, Trowa would have heard as well, and he simply would have shot you."
"You... I..." The remnants of Duo's terror were quickly turning to anger. "You son of a bitch!! You bastard!!"
"Would you rather I had not used it at all?" Heero asked calmly, crouching down and unlocking the metal cuffs still clamped around Duo's wrists.
Duo didn't answer. All his gut-churning fear and anticipation of pain and imagined betrayal ignited, burning too fiercely for cold logic to quench. He turned and started swinging as soon as his deadened hands were free.
Heero parried the wild punches easily, but instead of retaliating, he simply wrapped Duo in a tight hug, trapping the American's arms against his body. "It's over, Duo. You're all right."
The flash of fury left as soon as it had come, leaving Duo shaken and sagging against his friend. "Oh.... gods... I thought... I thought..."
"Aa, I know."
Duo let his forehead rest on Heero's shoulder while he regained his composure. The strong arms around him, the gentle hands untangling the explosives from his hair, the sheer solidity of his partner's warm body all comforted him more than he could say.
Slowly his breathing evened out and his pulse slowed. And he gradually became aware of one overriding concern.
His hands really hurt.
He chuckled a bit unevenly. After all that had happened to him tonight - the fights, the injuries, the sheer terror - he was worried about how the slowly returning blood flow felt worse than the original iron grip of the handcuffs.
But at least he was alive to feel it.
Three hours later, Duo was once again sitting at the vidscreen, finishing up the log entry detailing the night's happenings. Heero would be back in the morning to take a copy of the logs for review, and he wanted to get it done while the memories were fresh.
Duo smiled as he flicked off the screen and popped out the disk. Knowing Heero's single-minded dedication, he had been a little surprised at how quickly his friend had accepted his claims of innocence. Surprised, that is, until he had learned that Wufei had done some quick research into the ALDIS project after his conversation with Duo. 'Fei had called Heero with an urgent message detailing the origins of the project, and the identity of its test pilot - one T. Barton.
After this brief explanation, Heero had used his special agent authority to call up some discrete assistance. Trowa had been 'detained, pending medical treatment', a phrase that had made Duo shudder with sympathy. Quatre, still unconscious, had been examined and taken to a local hospital, to be hovered over protectively by Rashid until the drug wore off.
Duo had had his wounds treated and bound, but had refused to be taken to a hospital. He hadn't wanted to leave without an explanation, nor to disturb Hirde or Helen. He had crept down into the bolthole, and the sight of them both sleeping peacefully had made the decision to stay an easy one.
Besides, he hated hospitals.
Duo stretched carefully, rotating his head to get the kinks out of his neck. His smile faded as the movement awakened the wound over his collarbone and sent a stab of pain through his head, courtesy of the large lump Trowa had left on his skull.
He winced and brushed his fingers lightly over his scalp. He had come so close to dying. So close to failing.
During the war, death had never seemed so frightening. But during the war, he hadn't had anyone depending on him personally. Knowing that there were four other gundam pilots out there had relieved him of some of the responsibility of surviving. But now, with a wife and a daughter - people who would have large holes in their lives if he were to die - living was essential.
If the idea of failing his new family was bad, even worse was the thought that simply avoiding death might not be enough. His actions might screw up his counterpart's life beyond redemption. Of course, that was assuming that his alter ego would return to this body when he shifted realities...
What had happened to the former occupant of this body? Was he buried somewhere inside, unreachable? Was he watching, fuming at his helplessness?
He closed his eyes, trying to focus on the inner recesses of his mind, searching out any trace of another's presence, another's voice, wisp of thought, emotion...
Nothing.
Maybe that soul had died? He shivered.
If there were no soul left when he was torn out and flung into the next universe, then wouldn't this body die as well? He frowned, thinking of the way he had sensed his body slumping behind him when he had left the last universe.
He couldn't bear to think of Helen suddenly being left without a father. Especially since it would be his fault - if only he hadn't hidden in front of that damned generator...
In this universe, the black hole generator had blown up during testing. It was gone before he had even arrived, so he couldn't have used it to reverse his predicament. But he had been so enamoured of the family he had found, and so caught up in the problems facing his counterpart, that he had ignored the chance to explore other ways to go home.
And now it was too late. Already he could feel the tingles running down his limbs, the fiery prickling that signalled yet another shift in reality.
Clutching at the table and chair for support, he eased himself down onto the floor and lay flat. No sense giving his alter ego another lump on the head...
He tried to stay calm as the tingling progressed to an agonizing ripping sensation, but he couldn't stop the cry that forced its way past his clenched teeth when he was finally torn loose from his body.
Then he was flying, zipping up through the ceiling. Flashes of light sped past him, or maybe he was speeding past the flickering sparkles. Then he was heading straight for one, falling, irresistibly pulled, diving down into the brightest light imaginable.
End Page 14
(:./wingnut/alter14)
