05-Aug-2003
Title: Identity: 5/?
Author: Elemental
Rating: R for Violence
Genre: Drama/Action
Archive: GW Addiction
Pairing: 1+2 2+5 1+2+5 (Eventually)
Warnings: OC pov that switches (Painlessly, I promise) Violence, Swearing and Gang warfare.
Blurb: A little bit of angst, a lot more swearing... by now, you should know what to expect! The song is Tricky by Excess. My longest chapter yet (I think) But much had to be done, and yet there is still much more to do...
italics, peeps
Contact: Writerz_bloc@yahoo.ca
The amount of feedback I get is directly proportional to how quickly I write more- (hint hint).
~ I am the Breeze of Wisdom, I am the Wind of Insanity~
The Elemental
It never takes long to get rid of a body in these parts.
Call the cops. Eventually, a car and a coroner will come by. Tell 'em what happened. They'll nod sympathetically, and promise to look right into it. So long as you're not actually standing there with the gun still smoking, they leave you alone, take the body to the morgue, and return their 'personal effects' in about a week- if at all.
No effort at all. There, then gone, the bloodstain still fresh on the cracked linoleum. I know instinctively that no matter how hard I try, there will always be blood in those cracks.
And I know I can't stay here either. But as much as I want to run, I can't. Where am I going to run to, anyway? And I'm not leaving Duo. Leastwise not till I get him with his friends. He's dead otherwise, likely. And that makes mom... that makes it even more of a waste.
I should cry, or cry harder, I think. The water on my cheeks is already slowing. I think it's just a natural reaction. I don't think I even remember how to cry anymore.
But it still hurts.
So I switch to automatic, as though I'm in triage. It's Christmas in an emergency room. Keep moving and try not to let the horror hit you until everyone is safe, because if you break down, people die.
I checked the fridge. Pretty empty, useless. I hadn't gone shopping. I didn't have much cash handy either, and my paycheck wasn't coming in till next week. So I walked upstairs, into my room. Duo was talking to his friends, and watched me warily, but I ignored him.
It was surprisingly easy to do so.
My computer was still running. It took seconds to open a window, minutes to siphon money into my bank account. Hacking Duo's computer might have been dumb luck, after all, but I'd been cracking cards for years. I couldn't be bothered to hack a new account- that took hours, sometimes days. I hit my last victim, and sure enough he hadn't touched his account since before I hacked. Some rich guy, living in what was still considered 'upscale' Brooklyn. Probably had more creds then he knew what to do with. But I had use for the money.
When I closed the window and shut down the computer, Duo was reflected in the monitor. He didn't say anything, even if I could see the question in his eyes and expression. I didn't say anything, not trusting myself yet. Instead I grabbed his coat off the back of the chair and headed downstairs. I had to swallow a few times before I trusted my voice to sound even remotely normal. "I'll be back. Stay here
He said nothing. I shut the door behind me and locked it. Part of me almost hoped he would leave. Because it would mean I couldn't be hurt any more from this fucked up turn of events.
And part of me hoped he would stay, because I didn't want to be alone.
And part of me wished I had cleaned up the blood in the front hall before I'd left. Because I suddenly didn't want to return to that sight.
Quatre had managed to explain the basics of what they'd thought was going on to Duo, with Wufei interrupting occasionally. They left a lot of the details out, trying to keep their communication as short as possible, but they were still speaking when Dita walked into the room.
She didn't speak and immediately went to her own computer. Duo quickly finished with Quatre, promising to meet him and Wufei once they got to New York, though an exact time was unknown for now. Shutting down the window and turning off his computer, Duo stood and moved to look over Dita's shoulder. It took him a minute to figure out what she was doing, three windows on the screen flashing back and forth with a startling speed.
She's cracking a credit card! He watched, the re-assessed his first thought- She's re-hacking a credit card!? No wonder she managed to get into his computer, if she'd been at it for the last two days...
She'd finished and turned off the computer, startled to see Duo in the monitor's reflection. Duo wanted to ask her about the credit cards... and a lot else, for that matter, but he knew better and held his tongue. Dita said nothing as she stood, pulling his coat off of the back of the chair and leaving the room. Before Duo could ask she called out that she was leaving, and that he should stay behind. Then the door shut, and he heard the key turn in the lock.
He didn't know if she was really planning to come back. So he packed his meager stash of things, re-setting his computer's safeguards and installing another password screen, just in case. Finding the pills on the bedside table were antibiotics and sedatives, he popped a few of the first and stuffed both bottles in the laptop's case.
Try as he might, he couldn't find his original bag or his clothing anywhere. He couldn't really head out onto the street in too-large grey sweats and no shirt, so he headed downstairs, placing his bag by the door and decided to wait to see if Dita would return. At least that way, if he did leave, it would be under darkness.
There was still blood on the floor. He doubted Dita left it there intentionally. In fact, he was willing to bet she was at least somewhat in shock, and didn't even realize she'd done so. Finding a yellow bucket and scrub brush under the kitchen sink, and cleaning supplies on the bottom shelf of the pantry, Duo filled the former with water and soap, and applied the latter to the tile floor.
Duo's coat smelled of him. Of sweat and blood and cinnamon and pot and oil and maybe a little gasoline. Stupid as it sounds, it was comforting.
I hit an ATM and withdrew the money I'd snagged. Only two hundred, not much, really. Enough for some food and supplies. The nearest corner-store was a ten-minute walk. Seven, if you took a back alley and hopped a fence. But I wanted the full time it would take. Needed to get my head back on straight, figure out how I was getting Duo out of the house.
Gregor's corner store was open, like it always is. Closes down exactly once a year, sometime mid-June. A religious holiday or something for him. Otherwise, he and his wife kept it up at all hours. The door had a little bell on it that rang as it opened, a happy, tinkling sound. I grabbed a basket and walked up and down the shelves.
I needed shampoo. A quart of milk. More Aspirin. A toothbrush for Duo. Some canned veggies and some instant bacon. Canned stew, two ice packs, a sling, two packages of black hair dye, and a box of instant potatoes. On a whim I grabbed a bag of apples from the produce table Greg's wife always had. Don't know how she managed to grow decent apples, I certainly couldn't manage them, but she did, and I had the money.
Brought the stuff to the cash register. Greg was at the till. Made idle banter at me, asking about school and work and such. He told me about his daughter's latest letter home (we had once been friends) and I told him my mother was dead. He nodded apologies and clucked his tongue. I took the bags he handed me and said goodbye, and he told me to be careful as I left.
God I hate my world.
There wasn't any blood on the floor when I got back. The house smelled of lemon and bleach, instead of blood and death. I would have to thank Duo. Maybe.
The bags went on the kitchen table, and I walked into the living room. I'd noticed Duo's bag by the door, and he hadn't left yet. Instead, he was flipping through the vid screen. Most of the news was unimportant, leastwise it was to me, but our local news warned of an escaped, dangerous terrorist, with Duo's description. There was an actual bounty on his head, a figure not to be laughed at, and the warning he'd killed several people already.
Another channel featured footage of a Gundam attacking a military base somewhere in South Africa. The news report said the pilot had been captured, but escaped, and destroyed the base. Apparently, he'd been injured, or so the Alliance officials believed One of their soldiers reported that they were close to capturing the escaped pilot and Gundam.
"So, who's that?"
Duo didn't turn immediately, first shutting off the newscast and putting the remote down carefully on the milk-crate coffee table. I think he might have sighed, but I'm not sure. "Dita, I can't tell you everything, you know that right?"
"No shit Sherlock. Still, knowing what Gundam attacked that base isn't going to hurt anyone. I'm just curious. He wasn't one of the three on that screen, right?"
"No. That was 03. Heavyarms."
"They said he was hurt and they were close to capturing him. Figure it's true?"
"Nah. Three's almost as good at hiding as I am. If he's hurt, he'll call the others for backup. He'll be fine."
"That's good... Look, I'm going to get you out of this house and into a better hiding spot. But you can't leave like that, so come upstairs. I can change your dressings too."
Duo stood and waited, but when he realized I wasn't going to go first, he sighed (this time I heard him) and headed upstairs. "Where are we going?"
I followed him into my room "It's... it's an old haunt of mine, I guess you could say. It's the safest place in the whole Bronx. It's an old clock tower. really old. Probably pre-colonial." I left, but quickly returned with black jeans, a black turtleneck, a navy blue windbreaker with a hood, and a black baseball cap. I handed them to Duo with his jacket, and he set them on the bed as I got the materials together and cleaned his shoulder. The infection was quickly dying, the skin now just an angry red and no longer weeping pus. The bandage was lighter than normal, knowing he'd need as much movement as possible.
I grabbed some clothing for myself and left, ordering him to change while I did the same. I used the bathroom and soaked my head in the sink, feeling much more human already. I grabbed one of Dad's old duffel bags, and an old leather backpack from his side of the cupboard. Into the duffel bag went clothing for Duo. I grabbed one of mom's old sweaters for myself. On a whim I took a photo of us all off the wall and wrapped it in the sweater to protect the glass, and put them both back into the bag.
Duo opened the door to show he was done, and I quickly went through my clothing, shoving another pair of pants and some shirts from my own cupboard. From my drawers went socks, underwear, and another bra. My toothbrush and toothpaste, my hairbrush, my 'emergency' kit, all went into the bag, and I zipped it closed. When I looked at Duo, he was blushing furiously. I fought the urge to smile, and succeeded, almost.
Downstairs, I filled the backpack with what I'd bought at the store, plus what little remained from my cupboards and fridge. I threw one last look around the house I wasn't likely to return to again, and wasn't surprised that there wasn't anything here I felt I should take. This was my house, but it was never really home.
It was midnight, or close to it, the clock on the microwave was never right. We left through my back doors, through the backyards and empty lots, passed dogs who no longer barked when I passed and a cat I almost stepped on as it crossed our path. The backpack on my back and the duffel bag on my arm slowed me, but not by much. And besides, I was leading, so Duo couldn't complain.
We headed underneath the highway overpass, the one that ran along the Hudson River. Have you ever walked alongside a busy highway? The noise is deafening, and the sound was only amplified in the hollows underneath the overpass. It was a long trek, but eventually, I turned back up into the southern part of the Bronx, before it became Queens. Duo, happily, kept quiet. Gundam pilot or not, this kid knew the streets. I was willing to bet he'd grown up on streets similar to these. Either that or he was the world's best actor.
I knew the route like the back of my hand, could walk it blindfolded, probably. Before the whole thing with "Max" started, I used to come here almost every night. We were in an overgrown garden, something that had grown and blown into the ruins of the bombed out building beside it. Warning Duo to watch his step, I picked my path through the back of the building, simply walking out where the right wall no longer stood. There was more of an overgrown lot here, and maybe thirty, forty feet away, was a boarded up clock tower, the front entrance completely inaccessible because of the sheer amount of debris in front of it, and the fallen in walls, stones crumbling in with the wooden doors.
"Is that thing even safe? And how are we getting in there?"
"Shh. Of course it's safe. Come on." There was an old shack at the very back of the lot. Made of metal, rusted to all hell. There were holes in the walls and the roof, and the whole thing looked like it could collapse at any time. I walked up to it slowly, aiming off more to the side where my garden stood in a raised basin. I would need to weed it soon... Taking one last look to make sure no one was actually looking- unlikely in an abandoned industrial area, but better safe than sorry, I walked in, motioning for Duo to follow. The shack was pitch black, and I put an arm on Duo's shoulder and followed it down to his hand. Taking it, I guided it to the backpack. "Hold on and follow me, we're going down some steps soon.
I felt around until I found the handle and pulled, the doorway lifting silently, which was normal considering I kept the hinges oiled. I stepped down and Duo followed, cursing softly under his breath as he waited for his eyes to adjust. When I knew he was on the stairs I pulled him to stand next to me and warned him to duck as I pulled the door shut again, ease of long practice letting me slip the twisted iron bar through the loops imbedded in both the door and the cement base of the stairway- almost as good as a lock.
Now, knowing the light wouldn't be seen outside, I pulled the small flashlight from my pocket, not very bright, really but enough. Duo yelped at the change of light and squinted as I shone it in his face.
The change of light hurt, and Duo yelped as Dita shone her flashlight in his face. She grinned and quickly walked ahead, not waiting to see if he would follow. But of course he did.
The tunnel turned and twisted a fair bit, Duo assumed it was to avoid whatever else was underground when it was being built. The walls and ceiling were supported by braces every few feet, steel, if Duo knew any better. The floor was hard packed and well traveled. It seemed like a long time had passed, but Duo knew it had only been minutes, when they came to a dead end.
"Well, now what? I figure the ceiling would collapse even more if we tried anything... ." Duo gestured to the earthen cave-in, where the metal supports stuck out of the dirt like broken bones. There was wood here, badly stacked, as though someone had once tried to repair the tunnel and failed. Garbage had built here as well, along with a few patio stones Duo had no idea what reason they could be down there for.
"Over here." Dita was squatting by the base of the cave in, where a particularly large patio stone was laid up against the wall. She quickly dug her fingers into the dirt around it and pulled it back, exposing a lighter coloured patch of dirt beneath it... no, Duo realized, that wasn't dirt, it was fabric. There was a hole there, reaching maybe his knees. Dita was removing her bags and motioned for Duo to go first, handing him the flashlight as she shooed him towards the opening.
"It leads around the cave-in, just go already. It's safe."
Duo nodded and lit the hole with the flashlight. It looked safe enough... He kneeled down and crawled forward, following the smaller, twisted tunnel. Dita followed behind him, bushing her backpack in front of her and dragging the duffel behind. It didn't take long before they emerged on the other side of the crawlspace, more than a little dirtier. To Duo's right was the other side of the blockade, to his left, a wooden door.
Dita pushed passed, already slinging the bags onto her back and withdrawing a key from her pocket, opening the door with a loud creak. The pair stepped through.
The flashlight flickered, showing a large, circular room. Stairs curved upwards to a second floor, and the everything smelled of damp and earth. Dita took the flashlight from his hands and motioned up the stairs, which were an easy, if long climb. They had scaled several flights and moved through several more rooms before Dita stopped, Duo looking around and assuming there were close to the face of the clock. Gears and mechanisms were everywhere, filling the space so thickly he couldn't see through to the other side of the building. Dita pulled him through the maze, still quiet, and stopped at a corner wedged behind a metal duct. Pushing hard against the wall, Duo watched gaping as it shifted to reveal another passageway... and he groaned at the sight of another flight of stairs.
Dita grinned at him, and he had the suspicion she was enjoying all of this, however slightly, as she led him up the stairs. The stairs led to a door, and Dita opened it without a lock, into a large, empty space.
Well, it wasn't actually empty, Duo noticed. Milk crate tables were everywhere, balancing books and magazines, papers, flowers, dirty mugs and mason jars. Two old dilapidated couches were set off to one section of the room, almost a sitting area, while a cot was half-hidden behind a screen across the room. A not-quite-kitchen stood to the left of the room, consisting of two old bar-fridges, a dented metal sink, a counter, and a portable stove. A doorway to a second room stood to the left of the kitchen, a doorway to a third beside the couches.
Dita dropped the bags with a sigh. "This'll do."
"Yeah, but what is it?"
Dita grinned and pointed to the doorway by the couches "That's the bathroom. A working shower and all. I think this was a hideout for someone, maybe a bolt hole made for the third war. It's got its own electricity, and a bit of running water, though I have to be careful not to over-use it. Me and my dad found it years back when we were 'exploring'. You can take the cot, I've got a bed in the other room. That's my workroom," She pointed to the doorway by the kitchen, "stay out. I mean it. Promise you won't go in there, ok?"
Duo met her eyes squarely, "There's nothing there that'll kill me, nothing like radio equipment to contact the bad guys with, no explosives I'm unaware of, right?"
That drew a slight grin from the girl, "Nope, just my work. It's... personal. That's all."
Duo bowed comically, then turned the movement into a crouch as he pulled too hard on his shoulder. Dita guided him to one of the couches and left, returning a few minutes later with a plate of cold cuts and bread and cheese, plus a glass of water and more aspirin. Seeing the food, Duo realized just how hungry he was and quickly dug in, ignoring the painkillers. When Dita insisted, he smiled, "No can do 'Deets, popped another handful before we left. Too many isn't any better for me than none at all. Thanks for the food though."
"Get some rest." Dita grabbed the bags and unpacked the food in the kitchen. Taking the duffel bag into her 'workroom' she disappeared quietly, and as Duo waited he wondered if she planned to come out again. He felt a lot better, now that he'd eaten and he wasn't in immediate danger, so he laid back on one of the couches, this one a deep red (or at last it had once been) and pulled a tattered blanket from its back, planning to catch some sleep while he could. The room was decently lit, but Duo was used to sleeping in whatever arrangements he found, so he was almost dozing when Dita emerged.
If he didn't know better, he would have sworn it wasn't her.
Her dark brown hair, usually limp around her face or in a ponytail had been braded in tiny rows all around her forehead for a few inches before the hair was loose again, a few braids at the sides of her head following the length of her hair and ending with tiny beads that clicked together as they moved.
Her normal faded jeans and plain shirt/sweater were gone. Instead, she was wearing a short, PVC skirt with a slit up the side, and a black tank top, with a mesh shirt over that. The mesh shirt was a deep purple, it looked more like it had been made of spider webs, and the design tattooed her skin.
No... her skin was tattooed.
Duo couldn't make out the design from where he was laying, but he sat up and made his way towards the girl, who was grabbing a soda from the fridge.
"What's going on Deets? Where are you going?"
She grinned, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I'm going clubbing, Duo. There's a decent DJ at the Nemesis tonight, and the clubs not too far away."
"Like that? After today? Isn't it dangerous? I'm coming too... "
Dita laughed gently. "No, Duo, you're staying here and getting better. I need to get out and forget for a it, ok?" Seeing the worried look cross his features, she continued "No drugs, fool. I just need... . I want to go out and feel a beat through my bones so hard I can't think. You know what that feels like, right?
Duo nodded.
"Well, that's my escape. You can't go, you're too dammned recognizable. Unless you want to cut your hair."
Duo's hand flew to his braid and she smiled, genuine this time, "I thought so. Don't worry mother, I'll come back at a decent hour. And only half drunk, I promise."
Giving Duo's braid a quick tug, she'd left before he could come up with another argument.
Ever been to a club? A good club. Don't know? Well, do you remember details, or the feeling? If it's the latter, it was a good club.
Nemesis is like that. Euphoria, I like to think of it as. Music so heavy it pulses through the floor. Air think enough you get a buzz without actually getting high. Drinks you can trust a bartender to mix. And good music just as a bonus.
It was sometime past three am when I got there, no lineup that late at night. The bouncer knew me, handed me a thumbs up when he let me in. I'd stitched up his head a few weeks back.
I walked in and down the stairs, checking my coat before I walked into the actual club, where everything hit me like a hammer. I'm not much of a dancer, I'd rather watch and listen and forget about everything else but the flashing lights and the smokescreens, so I wound my way to a seat, near the bar without actually sitting at it. Ordered a drink and sat down with it. As I'd promised Duo, I had no intentions of getting drunk. I'd much rather do so in my own privacy, thank you very much. But that didn't mean I couldn't get started now.
The DJ, Tricky, I think her name was, started a new track, and I quietly sung along, letting the bass thrum through me.
// I believe in people falling //
It was a lot easier to block out Duo and my mom than I thought it would be. Just focusing on the music and the lights and letting my head fall to the beat... I wished I could stay like that forever.
// I believe in people warring //
What was with his friends anyway? Tight-assess or what? And lucky me would get to meet them. Joy. I grabbed another drink and focused back on the dancers. That worked well right until I noticed the two from the hospital, back with our last strange gang case, were dancing with their latest girl. That was enough to have me picture their friend, blood pouring from his eyes, nose, ears. Face twisted in agony...
// I believe disease is coming //
And of course, that made me think of mom. Dead. Bullet through her head. Have you ever seen a bullet wound? Clean, perfect hole on one side, the back of her head gone... just gone.
// I believe that's why I'm running //
I shook the tears from my eyes, brushing at them angrily. Another drink from the bar to add to my collection. I'd been here for a few hours, two, maybe three already. Caught up in this sick loop of thought. I'd have to head back soon, I knew. And I'd have to tell Duo about the gang cases. After looking at his laptop, and what I'd seen from the hospital, I had an idea of what the 'bad guys' were up to. And he and his friends were going to have to stop it.
// I believe that's why I'm running //
// I believe in people balking
I believe in people talking
I believe in people breathing
I believe in people being//
End chapter 5
(Stay tuned tor chapter 6! Dita meets the rest of the gang... well, most of em...)
(:./elemental/ident5)
