09-Mar-2004

Sons Of Saigon 4/??
Author: CleverYoungThief
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, violence, gore, psychological horror, situations in war, racial tension, drug use, and other controversial issues that involve the Vietnam War
Archive: GWA
Pairings: past 2xH, past 3x11, 2+1, 4+3
Genre: War/AU
Timeline: Late 1960's
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: I don't own any Gundam Wing character, as usual, and any other character I do own.
Feedback: Please?

Thanks to - Merith especially, for helping me out along the way, and to the rest of the War Room, as usual. And to readers, of course. ^_^

"Don't you give me no dirty looks
your father's hip he knows what cooks
just tell your hoodlum friend outside
you ain't got time to take a ride
Yakety yak, (don't talk back)... "
     --- The Coasters, Yakety Yak

"I like smoke and lightning
Heavy metal thunder
Racin' with the wind
And the feelin' that I'm under... "
     --- Steppenwolfe, Born To Be Wild

"Look in the eye of the savage girl
Fall deep in love in the underworld
Raw power is sure to come
runnin' to you... "
     --- The Stooges, Raw Power

Sons Of Saigon by CleverYoungThief

Part Four: Death In Detroit

"Duo! Duo, is that you?"

Duo threw his pack on the threadbare couch in the living room, stretching like a cat as he walked across the room. "Yeah, Pops. I'm just stoppin' in for a second, though, I'm gonna go meet Jimmy and Brandon."
He walked into the kitchen, squeezing his father's shoulder as he passed. His father-short, stocky, and balding-grunted a greeting from behind his newspaper. The mechanic's slippered feet were crossed at the ankles.

Duo hummed as he opened the fridge door, grabbing a pack of lunchmeat and a pear.

"... You get that paper done? The one you're supposed to do over the holidays?"

Shit. Duo closed the fridge and turned around, holding the pear in his teeth. He took a bite, balancing the pack of turkey and the fruit in his hand, chewing.

"Sure, Pop. Got all my Christmas homework done. Where's Aunt Helen?"

"She's at the grocery store. Don't talk with your mouth full." His father folded down the top of his paper, glancing at Duo with a critical, amused eye. "You would think that my child prodigy would have better grades in school, with all this homework that he does. And never having to crack a book? A real genius."

Duo laughed. "C'mon, Pops, don't bust my balls today."

"That's what you say every day... " His father looked up at him, squinting comically. "How you going to go out with no gas in your car?"

Duo started to groan a protest, then grinned when he saw the three dollars his father was holding up from behind the paper. He grabbed for the bills, but scowled when his father pulled them away, grinning.

"You're cleaning the garage for this, you realize that, right?"

"Yeah yeah, sure." He reached for them again, and sighed when his father pulled them further away.

"Sweeping the floors and organizing the shelves, progeny of my loins."

"Christ, Pops, that'll take me all afternoon!"

"Don't you take the Lord's name in vain in this house, young man."
Duo set his food on the kitchen table, rubbing at the back of his head. He smiled apologetically. "Yeah, sorry. I'll do it tomorrow. I swear."

"You'll do it before you leave this house-"

"Pop, man... "

"-and I want to see this homework of yours too, before you go. You'll never get into college if you keep scraping by like this."

Duo glared, sullen, flopping down in a chair across from his father so hard his father expected it to collapse beneath him. "I already told you, Pop," he said slowly, as if he was explaining something complicated to someone who couldn't understand English. "I ain't going to college. I'm going into the army."

"Duo, Duo, are you trying to kill me? It would break your mama's heart... "

"Mom isn't here, Pop-"

"Why can't you just go to college, get a good job, and marry a good Catholic girl? Cut your hair?" his father muttered, bringing up his newspaper to signal an end of the discussion. "You run around wild, you get in fights, you race that car-don't argue, I know you do-you drink and smoke. One day you're going to get in real trouble."

"Just get off my case," Duo said suddenly, grabbing the last third of his sandwich and the core of his pear, tossing it in the trash. "Maybe I don't want to marry some good Catholic girl and go to college and all that crap, Pop." He scowled. "Don't you care what I want?" His voice grew softer. "Mom's hair was like this. ... You said it reminds you of her."

"... What you want isn't good for you. Go clean the garage."

"Jeeeesus," Duo sighed, standing up as he stuffed the last of the sandwich in his mouth.

"Duo-" his father growled, warning.

"Yeah, I know, I'm going already."

Duo headed out the front door, closing it behind him. As soon as it shut at his back, he muttered under his breath.

"Crispy Christ on a crutch. Christ, Christ, Christ."

He grinned mischievously, heading out to the garage. It was a beautiful December day (if as cold as a welldigger's ass), a week before Christmas, he was gonna have three bucks for gas, and if he played his cards right, he could sweet-talk his aunt into another three. Hell, he'd be a goddamned millionaire by nightfall.

The afternoon was already looking up.

"Shit, shit, oh shit!!"

Duo didn't move at the frantic yelps in the back seat. He leaned harder on his elbow, turning his face towards the open window, letting the cold night air hit his face. He stretched in the lowrider seat, flicking his eyes to the rearview mirror. Brandon was frantically brushing a burning ash off the front of his shirt.

"You burn a hole in my seat, Brand, I'm going to beat your ass."

Jimmy laughed. "Dumbass."

"You're a fuckin' dumbass," Brandon muttered, cheeks coloring. But Duo just laughed softly, a sound that made a cold rill skitter down his back.

Duo was way too quiet tonight. All the crazy energy that usually emanated from the long-haired boy was twisted away inside of him, making his friends nervous, like horses scenting fire. Jimmy could feel that dangerous beat, like the pulse of a wounded animal.

He pulled into a gas station, turning off the car. "Okay, pay up, you bushers. Gas money."

"Ah, hell Duo... " Brandon muttered, but reached into his pocket, pulling out a couple of dollars. Jimmy did the same, and Duo snatched it out of their hands like a magic trick, smirking. "Thank ya, thank ya, thank ya very much. Gotta feed the machine. And what a machine she is."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm surprised you're not to the point of humping this thing."

Duo leered. "Who says I'm not?"

Before his flabbergasted friends could reply, Duo slipped out of the car, flipping open the gas cap and pulling down the pump. He inserted it in the tank and patted his black Chevelle fondly. "Yeah, you just ignore those guys. They just can't see your true beauty."

"We're goin' in to get drinks. Gimme the cash, I'll pay while we're in there."

Duo handed the money off to Brandon, and Jimmy smirked as the two of them walked past.

"We'll give you and your ride some alone time, unless you think you need to get a room or something."

Duo glanced up with a grin, flicking the boys off cheerfully, and they laughed, walking into the gas station.

Duo looked up, trying to see who was calling him.

Duo looked in the direction of the raucous voice, then grinned widely when he saw Elliot Baez in his dark green Camaro, waving him down from the street. There were four other boys in the car; he recognized two of them, but not the other two. He figured they might be from Holy Spirit Parochial. Duo gave him a challenging nod, smirking.

"I'll be there!" The Camaro drove off, the boys hooting and hollering as the muscle car belched black smoke onto the street. Duo grinned, giving the Chevelle a final pat. "Ready, Reaper?" he whispered, that strange chilling grin on his face.

Jimmy and Brandon walked back over, a couple of girls-Sherri and Alice-he recognized from school. He'd know them better, but he cut the class he shared with them half the time, so the most attention he'd ever given them was a prefunctory 'hey' or an appreciative wink passing in the halls. Shop was pretty much the only class he attended regularly.

Make that religiously.

"C'mon, get in. Girls too, if ya want. We're heading out to Cherry. Race is on."

The girls climbed in the back seat, sliding up close to each other to make room, and Jimmy slipped into the front passenger side. Brandon, who was juggling sodas and had still looked a little pissed from the ash incident, broke into a grin. "Heya, great! We can celebrate back at my place!"

Jimmy snorted, pulling a cigarette from the pack at his sleeve, brushing back his mop of wild black hair before it fell back in his face. He lit the cigarette, blowing the smoke into the still, cold night, broken only by the sound of The Platters on the radio.

"Good thing, 'cause we can't celebrate at mine. I think my dad's on the rag or somethin'. Thought he was going to throw the coffee pot at me this morning."

Duo smirked, replacing the gas pump and hopping in the driver seat. "What they hell are you guys talkin' about? I have to win first, asshole."

The girls giggled, and Brandon's smile just grew wider.

"You'll win, Duo."

"And why's that?" he asked, turning up the radio.

Duo didn't even notice when Brandon's smile faded a little, became almost sad. He barely heard Brandon's soft answer.

" ...You always do."

"Just chill out, Duo."

Duo paced along the backwall, incensed. They had only been at the impromptu party for almost an hour, and the basement of Brandon's house was filled with cigarette smoke, laughter, and a reel-to-reel turned up so loud the music was almost discordant. Even winning against a tricked out Camaro wasn't enough to brighten his soured mood.

At least, not after her.

"I swear to God, man, if she comes near me again, I'm gonna hit her."

Jimmy clapped him on the shoulder, already happily inebriated, stoned, and way too tranquil to let Duo's bad mood spoil his fun. "Mellow out, dude. Hilde didn't mean nothin' by it. She just gets a little excited 'bout stuff. You know chicks. One wrong word and they turn it into a fuckin' soap opera. No offense, ladies," he added in a content slur, grinning at a pair of girls who were scowling at him in disapproval.

Duo glared. "She hit me, Jimmy. Nobody hits me. Especially no chick." He touched his jaw, feeling the early swelling there. He'd be lucky if he didn't have a shiner. "She packs a pretty mean punch, though." He scowled again, as if suddenly remembering that it was his jaw she was practicing her punch on. "Just keep that hell-cat away from me."

"Hell-cat, eh? You're one to talk." Jimmy laughed softly, his eyes moving over the room until they fell on the girl in question. "I take it she didn't take too kindly to you calling her sweetcheeks."

Duo snorted softly. "How was I supposed to know she was a stuck-up dyke?" He gazed across the room at the girl; she was incandescent, stalking around the pool table, eyeing the angles and gesturing widely with her cue.. "Why'd you invite her, anyway?"

Jimmy grinned, nodding in her direction as she leaned over the pool table, lining up a shot. "She's got a great ass. Don't you agree, amigo?"

Duo looked, a slow smile spreading on his face. "Hmm. Yeah, great ass. Catch ya later... "

He sauntered up behind Hilde as she lined up her shot, leaning up behind her, almost covering her body with his, but not close enough to touch. He spread his hand out on the pool table near hers, whispering in her ear.

"Need help sizing it up?"

Her voice was a soft, deep, smoky baritone. "I'm better than most at breaking balls."

"Yowch, okay," he replied, laughing a little as he backed up, holding up his hands in surrender. "I get the picture. ... Want a drink?"

She finally turned with the poolstick, placing a hand on one curvaceous hip. A shock of black hair fell into her gray eyes, and the expression in them was cool, contemptuous and indifferent. "Maybe. But what do you want, pig?"

Duo grinned disarmingly. "Just a chance to show you I'm not the rogue you think I am. I'm not that bad. Promise."

"Oh, I don't think you're bad news, Maxwell. I know you're bad news." But she was smiling a little now, vaguely amused. The smile never fails, he thought, grinning more widely.

She threw her pool stick on the table, looking him over skeptically. "You got something stronger than coke?"

"How about a rum-and-coke?"

"That'll work."

Duo went over to the card table to mix the drinks, then walked back over to where Hilde had settled into one of the bean bag chairs near the stereo, folding one leg sensually over the other, as lithe as a cat.

He handed her her drink, and they sipped at them silently for a few seconds. Finally, Duo broke the silence. "You hit pretty hard... for a girl."

Hilde looked over at him, raising an eyebrow before smiling a little. "You drive pretty good... for a guy." They both laughed.

"Seriously, that was some pretty groovy driving. You race a lot?"

"Every chance I get. Thanks." They sipped at their drinks, stealing glances at each other when they thought the other wasn't looking.

"I hear you're joining up, going to volunteer for 'Nam."

Duo nodded, grinning. "Sure am."

Hilde's smile faded, and she looked away, brow furrowed. Her hands tightened on the hard plastic cup in them, until her knuckles showed white. "Fuckin' Johnson," she said, softly. "We shouldn't even be over there."

Duo scowled at her a minute, bewildered, until his expression darkened in realization. He practically spat the words. "You're a protester."

"Somebody has to do it. Somebody has to stop the war," she replied, tensing in the beanbag chair. The sleeves of her peasant blouse were pushed up to her elbows, and Duo could see that her hands were shaking slightly now.

"Shit yeah. That's why I'm going over there, so we can stop this damned mess."

"What makes you think you can do what no one else has been able to do, Duo?" she half-shouted, frustrated. A few heads looked up on the other side of the room.

"What makes you think you can stop a war?" Duo said, his voice thick with contempt as he leaned over, glaring at her. "What makes you think anyone is going to listen to you?"

Hilde glared back. "Asshole!" She threw the rest of her drink in his face. "Have your fucking drink back." She stood up, stalking off. Duo sat back in the chair, angry and wet...

...but still kind of interested.

"Will you stop sulking like a damned baby and just go over and talk to her?"

Duo looked up from where he was lining up a shot at the pool table, scowling. "What the hell are you talking about, Brandon?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. You've been avoiding Hilde all night, but you can't keep your eyes off her. Just give it up, and go talk to her. You know you want to."
"Hmph."

"Just do it, you pussy."

"Fine, fine, I'm going already." Duo handed him the pool stick, moving slowly over to where Hilde was leaned up against the wall, his hands in his pockets.

"Hey. ... You want a drink? I brought some Baccardi."

Hilde looked up from where she had her arms crossed over her chest. She raised an eyebrow at him, a scowl on her face. "You sure you want to wear it?"

Duo laughed a little, holding up two fingers in a V. "Peace, sister. That's the sign for you guys, right? Let's truce, kay? I won't make you mad this time." He modified the sign, bringing his two fingers together. "Scout's honor."

Hilde snorted. "You weren't no fucking Scout."

Duo looked at his fingers, then smirked a little. "Nah, maybe not. But I still promise not to make you mad. The argument we had last week does not exist, and we will not speak of it."

Hilde was silent for a moment, then smiled a little. "Okay. You want to get me a drink then, easy rider?"

Duo grinned. "My pleasure.

"I win again." Hilde backed Duo up against the pool table until she was standing between his legs, grinning predatorily as she leaned in to murmur to him, hands on the edge of the pool table at either side of his hips. "You may be a good racer, Duo, but you're a fucking terrible pool player."

Duo grinned, moving his hands around her waist to rest lightly on her butt. He leaned forward, brushing his lips over hers. Hilde's eyes opened, and she pulled back a little, startled. Duo gave her a little room, moving his hands up to her waist.

"What's wrong?"

Hilde shook her head a little. "I know... we're not supposed to talk about it, but... "

Duo leaned in closer so that she could hear him over the stereo, whispering softly. He could smell her perfume, and the sweet smell of rum on her breath. He could taste it when they kissed. "What's buggin' ya, Hil?"

Hilde gazed into his eyes, a strange, inexplicable terror in her gaze. "Duo... what's the real reason you're volunteering?"

Duo grinned, but there wasn't any humor in it. "Told ya. Gonna show those gooks what-for."

Hilde glared at him suddenly, trying to pull away. "Oh fuck you and your machismo, Duo."

Duo held her tightly, not letting her go. He sighed. "Hil... " He glanced around the room; most of the guests at the party had already left, and the basement was pretty quiet. Jimmy had cried off, saying he had to get up for church in the morning, and Brandon was quietly making out with a girl-Sherri, Duo thought it was-in the corner.

Still...

"Come on, Hilde. Let's go for a ride."

She looked at him a moment, then nodded, letting him lead her out by the hand. He left around back and unlocked the Chevelle, getting into the front seat. Hilde slipped in next to him, silent and serious. Duo drove out into the suburbs, and then onto the highway past that... The night was clear, stars sparkling like diamonds tossed across a piece of black velvet.

"Want a cigarette?"

Hilde took one from him wordlessly, cupping her hands around the lighter to steady the flame as she lit it. Duo took one drag on his own before losing interest, tossing it out the open window, into the night.

"Well... you going to tell me, or we going to drive to Ohio?"

Duo took a deep breath, then exhaled a ghost into the freezing night air. "Well... shit. It's like this... " He glanced at her, scowling a little. "If you laugh, I'll never hang out with you again."

She looked back at him solemnly, with a 'go on' look. "A few months ago, I started to get this feeling. What I mean to say is... " He glanced over at her, heat rising in his cheeks. "I got this feeling I have to go. I have to go as soon as I can. If I don't, something bad will happen. Like... somebody will die instead of me, you know?" He tried to gauge her reaction, then looked back out at the road. "It's like... I'm supposed to do something, and if I don't go... a lot of people will die."

They were both silent for a few moments, letting the stillness fill the car. Duo pulled off on an exit, taking a road along Lake Erie before pulling off beside the water. After almost five minutes of sitting in the stillness, watching the moon on the water, he spoke again.

"I can't just ignore it, Hild. The longer I wait... the stronger it gets. So I'm just gonna go. There's nothin' else for me to do."

"That's... how I feel about what I do." The two of them stared at each other, their gazes naked and vulnerable.

They were silent for a few moments, and then Duo spoke again. "I promised my aunt Helen I'd wait 'til after Christmas. So I figured the day after New Year's would work. Give me time to say goodbye to everyone."

Hilde sighed, softly stroking Duo's thigh. He moved into her, like a flower leaning towards the sun, and they fell together. Dream-like, and they were leaning across the seats. "Back-seat... back-seat... " Duo muttered, his lips against her neck.

"Yeah... "

He crawled into the back-seat, helping her after him, until they were lying across the seats. They laid there for a moment, Hilde sprawled across his chest, one hand tangled in his hair, the other splayed across his chest. He knew she could feel him between her thighs, hard up against her hips, but he didn't care.

Hilde smiled down at him, a secretive grin that became everything that defined a woman to him. She reached down between them, cupping the bulge beneath his jeans. "I think I'd love you if you weren't such a pig."

Duo gasped softly, then returned her grin, teeth flashing in the moonlight as he whispered against her lips.

"I think I'd love you if you weren't such a bitch."

Duo shook hands with the man behind the back desk in the Army recruiting office, the overhead lights catching the man's various stripes and medals.

The army recruiting officer looked Duo up and down with a critical eye, then down at the driver's license and application papers that Duo had placed on his desk. "So, you want to get into the Army, kid? I'm Colonel Benchley. If you want to get into the Army, you're gonna have to go through me."

"Yes sir," Duo replied, feeling excitement well in his chest like a rising storm. "That's what I've been meaning to do."

"How come you wanna join up now, kid? Why not wait until you graduate from high-school?"

Duo scowled a little, raising an eyebrow. "I think I'm needed now, sir. Don't need a diploma to hold a gun and shoot."

The colonel scowled at Duo a moment before looking over his papers. "Does getting wounded or killed bother you, ... Maxwell? Scare you any?"

"Nah," Duo replied, grinning as he leaned back in his chair, braid thrown over the back of it. He was seventeen and invincible.

"What about the idea of killing someone else?"

Duo's smile faded slowly, and a cold, flat light came into his eyes that the sergeant wasn't sure if he liked at all. It was a lethal look.

"No sir. I don't believe that would bother me much at all."

The colonel nodded a little to himself. He figured that was what the answer would be. Quick and honest and brutal. Some are born to it, he thought. It takes a special breed of man to become a killer. This kid is the type. Hands-down.

"Your mama know what you're doing, son?"

"If she was alive, she would. But she's not, so it won't hurt her none." Duo sighed, and began to push back his chair. "Look, man, if you're not gonna take my application, I'll just go next door. I'm sure the Marines could use me, too."

The colonel sighed. "Sit down, son." He picked up a pen and pulled a paper from his desk, beginning to write. "I just need to make sure you know what you're doing. How soon do you want to report?"

Duo relaxed, grinning. "As soon as possible. Been waiting for months for this."

"Any particular branch you want to work in?"

"Something with vehicles would be nice."

Infantry. Front lines, the colonel thought immediately, writing the order without hesitation. He shook his head. "I should mark you down as a mental case, kid... "

Duo's grin widened, became almost sharklike. "I thought that's the kind of guy you guys were lookin' for."

The recruiter laughed softly, signing off on the approval. "Maybe we are, at that."

End Part 4

(:./cyt/sons4)