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 6 ~ Mess (cont'd)
He came back to consciousness with a wince as his head and upper body were jerked up and back by a firm grip in his hair.
"Oy! Hands off the hair!" he yelled, grasping the offending fist and twisting the wrist back sharply. Or at least, he tried to. He was confused and appalled to realize that he was really muttering and swatting ineffectually.
His assailant snorted, and let him fall to the floor in a graceless heap. "This is the thief I was telling you about, sir," said the second voice Duo remembered vaguely from before. "Duo Maxwell. Yaros swore he robbed the Devil Kings, but from what I can see he's just another used-up junkie."
Junkie? For a moment, he could actually taste the sour bite of the word as it sank into his mind, spreading ripples of olive green. Then the sensations vanished, and the world seemed dingier, grayer.
Slowly, snippets of memory trickled back - being above and inside himself at the same time, leaping from universe to universe, drifting away from the harsh words of strangers, that damned black hole generator...
No, wait, those were hallucinations.
Weren't they?
"What's he on?" said another voice impatiently.
With great effort, Duo turned his head and tried to make out who was speaking about him as if he weren't even in the room. Two more hazy figures stood at the other end of the room.
"Bliss, sir."
Duo blinked, trying to get his eyes to focus. The impatient voice belonged to a tall, frowning man with coarse blond hair. Duo couldn't remember ever seeing him before. But beside him...
Trowa.
The other pilot's face was impassive, the long bang almost disguising his slightly widened eyes. Instinct had Duo trying to keep any sign of recognition from his own face before he had even realized he was looking at one of his friends. Or maybe a psychotic enemy.
"Give him an overdose and dump him in the alley with Yaros." The blond man started to turn away.
Crap!! Duo tried to scramble to his feet, but his legs wouldn't go where he wanted and he sprawled on his face. The man who had brought him here stepped casually on the back of Duo's neck, keeping him down.
"The last I heard, the Devil Kings were involved in a vicious purge of their organization," Trowa said thoughtfully.
The blond man stopped just short of the doorway and spoke over his shoulder. "Your point being...?"
"If the Devil Kings had thought they'd been robbed by an outsider," Trowa said, quiet and intent, "they would be combing the streets by now. Instead, they've assumed that some of their own have gotten greedy, and are ruthlessly weeding them out." He lifted his chin to indicate Duo. "He must have gotten past their security, not only without being caught, but without leaving any trace of his entry or identity."
The blond man turned to gaze thoughtfully at Duo. "So, despite his habit, he's a good thief."
Trowa shrugged. "That habit might also give us a leash."
The blond man smiled at that, a shark showing its teeth. He jerked his head at the man half-strangling Duo, "Leave him here. Go dump Yaros."
"Yes, sir, Mr. Wheat." The pressure on Duo's windpipe eased and he gasped gratefully.
"And see that he's cleaned up," Wheat said to Trowa, with a distasteful glance at Duo. "He reeks."
Trowa nodded.
Duo slumped against the tiled wall, fumbling for the buttons on his shirt. The drug was gradually loosening its hold on him, but he still felt oddly disconnected from his body.
Trowa had obviously taken the order to clean him up seriously. The green-eyed man had wrapped a hand in the back of his collar and hauled him to his feet, then half-pushed, half-dragged him down hallways and up stairs until they came to a large bathroom.
Now the shower was running, giving off enticing tendrils of steam, and fluffy towels were waiting on the racks. The mere thought of a long, hot shower made Duo realize just how filthy he really was - even his hair stank.
If he could just undo the damned buttons...!
"Maxwell." The tone was carefully neutral.
"What!?!" He tried to straighten up, to at least look less wasted and not in need of any help.
"You're wearing a pullover."
Duo looked down at his chest. Nope, no buttons there. "Oh..."
Warm, lean hands slid under his shirt, lifting the stained material up to his shoulders.
Duo froze for a moment, caught by surprise at both the assistance and the subtle caress. The little shiver of pleasure that danced across his skin was followed by a deep blush of embarrassment. Trowa obviously thought he needed help, and the fact that he couldn't honestly disagree was humiliating.
He closed his eyes and lifted his arms, trying to get the whole thing over with as quickly as possible.
Trowa undressed him efficiently and without comment, tossing the filthy clothes into a corner. Duo tried to ignore the skimming of those long, sensitive fingers over his body and kept his gaze on the floor (because the walls had a tendency to spin if he looked at them too long). He didn't want to see either pity or disgust in those intelligent green eyes.
Trowa... Duo frowned to himself. No one had mentioned that name since he had woken up. How did he know this man? And he did know him, knew the graceful swing of his walk, the even, quiet tones of his voice, the way his smile quirked his lips up in a bow.
His first reaction to the sight of the taller man had been one of relief - knowing that he wasn't alone in this dangerous place. He nodded to himself. He trusted this man, this Trowa, trusted him implicitly
Trowa glared at Duo from one emerald eye. He was kneeling, cradling Quatre's limp body to his chest, his face strained and desperate. "I will *not* let you kill him!"
Duo literally reeled from the vivid image slamming into his brain. Trowa caught him under the arms, then guided him through the shower door. "Start washing. I'll get you some clean clothes."
Duo staggered into the shower, blinking in the spray. What the hell was that?? A hallucination? A memory?? Had he really tried to kill Quatre?
He braced his hands against the shower wall and let the water spatter against his back and shoulders while he thought desperately.
Quatre... Quatre was another pilot, he remembered that much. He could picture the blond's smiling face as he played his violin, or drank one of his innumerable cups of coffee. He was a firm friend, Duo was sure of it. Why would he have tried to kill Quatre?
He shook his head and straightened up a little, letting his hands slide down. Something caught his eye and he froze, disbelieving. Slowly he turned his hands palm up, staring.
An angry red wound ran from each wrist to halfway up the forearm, standing out in stark relief against the pale skin. They were healed, mostly, but the scars were not yet whitened with age. Sometime in the recent past, he had tried to kill himself. From the position and severity of the marks, he had to admit it had been a serious attempt.
For long moments he grappled with the concept, trying to combine the idea of suicide with his own self-image of a determined, independent survivor. The two just wouldn't go together.
Damn this drug!! If only he could remember...
Drug addict or not, he knew himself. If he couldn't solve a problem right off the bat, he usually ran away and hid until either the problem went away, or he was strong enough to come back and kick its butt. But maybe he had come across a problem too serious to run from, or too big to overcome.
Maybe using drugs was just a new way of hiding? He shook his head. Surely he hadn't been that stupid. Drugs made people vulnerable, and vulnerable people on L2 were prey. Hiding from a problem was one thing, but hiding in a way that would get himself killed was another.
But maybe... He slowly stroked the scar on one wrist. Maybe he had wanted someone to complete what he had been unable to finish himself. But what could he have run into that was so awful that he would rather die than face it?
"You haven't even started washing?" Trowa's voice broke into his reverie.
Duo jumped, whirling around and nearly falling, only to discover the other pilot looking in through the half-opened shower door.
Trowa pulled his head back out of the shower, snorting with annoyance, and spoke over the running water. "He's too spaced out to even figure out what the soap is for. Put those down on the counter, and go tell Mr. Wheat that this will take longer than I'd thought - at least an hour if he's to be at all coherent."
Duo stared at the second blurry figure just visible through the shower door. He hadn't heard either of them come in.
"Yeah, OK, Twister," said a new voice. "Ya sure ya don't want any help with 'im? I could help ya soap 'im up..." Duo shuddered at the leering tone, suddenly feeling horribly vulnerable.
Trowa chuckled. "Thanks, but no. He has to be able to work tonight, and I would imagine that includes walking."
The other man laughed, "Yeah, OK, but after he's finished da job...?"
"Afterwards is another story," Trowa agreed. "But you'll probably have to stand in line."
"Hell, that's OK. We'll just give 'im a little Bliss an' then we can aaaaaalllll party." With a final laugh, the second man left, shutting the door behind him.
Duo realized he was crouching slightly, clutching the back scrubber like a club, with a bottle of shampoo in his other hand ready to squirt into unsuspecting eyes. Feeling slightly foolish, he put them down, but within easy reach of his hand. Just in case.
He thought over what he had heard. Trowa was far too clever to assume that Duo wouldn't understand or remember what had been said. So if Tro were really planning to turn Duo into a party favour, that conversation wouldn't have happened where Duo could hear it.
So he was safe.
Probably.
Just as he came to this conclusion, the shower door opened again, and Trowa stepped in, completely nude.
End Page 16
(:./wingnut/alter16)
