27-Jan-2001
Disclaimer: I don't own GW. I am poor. Go bug someone with money. This fic is for entertainment only. It is DARK. NCS, yaoi lemon, bad Duo. Don't read if you can't deal.
Most people called me Duo Maxwell. It's a name I don't use anymore. Duo Maxwell died on a table at a party he'd been blackmailed into going to, impaled on some rich bastard's cock. Growing up, I hated rich people because they seemed to have everything and value nothing. The idea had a flaw; rich people value what they have and will sacrifice anything or anyone to keep it, so long as they don't have to suffer personally. Quatre may be the only exception to that rule. He'd willingly suffer, but he would also willingly sacrifice a friend for the greater good. I know. God, do I know.
You see Duo owned a salvage business with his friend Hilde. It was good, honest work and they both loved it. One day, Noin, another supposed friend, showed up. She was with the Preventers. They needed Duo to take a mission. See, he was a master at infiltration. Occasionally the long braid he had got in the way, but he could work around that. Not really a concern anymore.
Noin wanted him to show up at a party Relena Peacecraft, ruler of the Sank Kingdom, and all around wonderful person, was throwing. He'd lure some of the Colony Representatives who were opposing a plan sponsored by Relena into a room and the Preventers would get incriminating pictures of the guys with him. Blackmail may be an ugly word, but it is remarkably effective.
Duo stared at her in shock; he'd always thought of her as a friend. How could she ask him to whore himself? She seemed shocked when he didn't just leap at the chance. Poor Duo. He refused. Such a fool. Not to have said no, but to have believed in the idea of friendship.
The Preventer bitch pulled out the deed to his business. The bank sold it to Une and the Preventers. If Duo wanted to keep his business, he had better take the mission. What choice was there? So he agreed, yet adamantly refused to have sex. They could get pictures of the men slobbering all over him; that was all. Like the young fool he was, Duo had faith Noin would keep her word when she promised it was enough.
All the other pilots and even Zechs were a part of the mission and it made him feel better. Still thinking friendship existed. A dark haired man briefed them. The targets were three rich men from different colonies. Each was known to "enjoy the company" of young, pretty men. Hence Duo's part of the mission. He was to take them to a room with a camera planted behind a full-length mirror. A small bug would be located in his cummerbund so backup could help out if needed. Sounds good, right? Don't be a dumb as Duo was.
So the little idiot went to the party and immediately all three of the rich assholes began maneuvering him upstairs. The rigged room was the only open one, so the plan looked like it was working. Yep, right up until one of the men injected him with something. Duo raised a fuss and it should have brought help. No one came.
The drug made me, I mean him, him, weak and the room spun around alarmingly. When no backup knocked down the door, Duo began screaming; the result was his shirt stuffed into his mouth so far he was choking. Not smart enough to give up, he lashed out with his fists. One of the bastards pulled a knife out of who knows where and killed half of Duo's soul. He cut off that butt length mass of hair and used it to tie Duo's wrists to the leg of a table the men decided to bend him over.
The moment the braid's weight was lifted from his head, the poor fool stopped struggling. That braid represented everyone he'd ever loved. The memories of them. It was his way of keeping them alive and losing it felt like losing them all over again. Worse, it felt like he'd betrayed their memory by allowing it to be taken. One cut and half a human soul was shattered. Not that anyone cared.
The first man didn't even try to prepare Duo; he just rammed in, loving the screams. The second man was easier in that blood provided some lubrication. By the third man, Duo was barely conscious. Despite popular thought, he was a virgin until that night. He wanted to be with someone he loved and although he'd fooled around a little with Hilde, they never went all the way. Idiot wanted it to be Heero. Fool.
After the men had been at him about twice each, the room's door flew inward. Duo has vaguely recalls Wufei cussing, Trowa looking horrified, Heero arresting the men, Relena beaming at Heero, and then Quatre untying him and killing the other half of his soul. Quatre said:
"Allah, I never thought it would be this bad."
Noin quickly told the innocent looking blond to shut up as Trowa and Wufei had great hearing. Wufei and Trowa, not Heero. Not Relena. I can't say which hurt him worse. He loved Heero, but given how J raised him, the betrayal wasn't unexpected. Though it was agonizing to be forced to realize he'd never be more than a resource for missions. Relena was a different.
The kid actually thought she was a good person. A little psycho and overly possessive when it came to Heero, but still. Now he knew different. Heero and Relena's betrayal hurt more than Quatre's or Noin's. After all, since the whole Wing Zero thing, the blond had been a little iffy in making his choices. Far colder than before. I think he almost expected sweet Quatre to be in on it.
So Duo passed out, the last thing he heard being the very thing that killed him. One the way to the hospital, he managed to resurrect himself several times; enough to see the real distress and anger on Trowa and Wufei's faces. Those two would be spared.
At the hospital, I was born and awoke in a bed with far too many needles and tubes stuck in me. Knowing the enemy might be around, I kept my eyes closed and ears open. A couple of nurses came in to check over the machines and one commented that is was a wonderful thing for Quatre Winner to be taking care of such "street trash." Right lady. Like he wasn't one of the people who put me here. I was going to deal with her later.
After they left, I turned off the machines and pulled all the plastic from my body. God did I hurt everywhere. The chart said I had "minor injuries." Minor my ass and it was indeed my ass. Should get that doc and let three guys force him to take it up the ass. See how minor the injuries are then. Jerk.
So I was free from the bed, but with no clothes. A quick look around showed I was in a private room and turned out a private floor; ah the wonders of money. I knocked out a guard, took his clothes, and then went after the nurses. I noticed it was the middle of the night, so not too many people would be running around. I hate being disturbed when I'm getting even with people.
The nurses ended up locked in a closet, naked, in a compromising position. No one calls Duo street trash. From there I logged onto a computer, used the hospital paperwork to get blondie's account numbers, and checked out his finances. The bank account used to pay for my stay, or rather Duo's, held over three hundred and forty million dollars! Oh mama! As a down payment on future suffering, I relocated over two hundred million. They have yet to find a penny of it.
From there it was a simple matter to walk out of the hospital. I walked into the night, right past Heero and Trowa who apparently never heard of visiting hours. Neither one of them spared me a single glance. But then, I'm not Duo Maxwell. He's dead. Murdered by his own faith in people and ridiculous ideas such as friendship and love. I'm the one who's going to avenge the wrong's done to him. I'm the one who is going to make those creatures pay. I'm Shinigami.
End Part 1
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Phoenix
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