17-Sept-2000
Title: Inferno's Touch ~ Chapter 9
Author: Ravynfyre
Archive: GW Addiction, Darkflame
Category: Action, Angst
Pairings: 3+4
Standard Disclaimer: Not mine. Theirs. Too bad, but otherwise, I guess I'd never get anything done >nice hentai thought<. Anyway, not makin' any money offa this so dun sue me. You'd only get some college debt, a few dogs, and a pair of fuzzy bunny slippers anyway.
Rating: PG-13
Warning: None - (maybe some grossness to any of you with squeamish tummies)
Spoiler: None
Notes: Terminology at the end.
Feedback: Yes, please. All comments welcome (although flames may be fed to my dogs, who, since they have notoriously gassy intestinal tracts, will be spending the night with the flamer afterwards)
Heero awoke even before the nurse´s hand made contact with his sleep flushed skin. He curbed his instant defensive reflex, figuring that the hospital staff would probably not appreciate needing to admit one of their own staff members.
“Mr. Yuy?” the young redheaded nurse whispered tentatively, bending down low over him and shaking his left arm gently.
He opened his eyes and regarded her coolly.
“I´m awake.”
“Oh. Okay. I´ll be back in an hour or so,” she replied.
Before she had a chance to unfold from her looming crouch, the other night shift nurse peeked into the room. Heero recognized her as the woman who had thankfully replaced the bubble-headed twit from that afternoon. He saw her expression grow disdainful and incredulous as she absorbed the redhead´s posture beside Heero´s bed.
As the younger woman quietly slipped out of the room, Heero´s sharp ears picked up the older nurse´s acerbic warning.
“Do you have a death wish, young lady? Or didn´t anyone ever tell you to never lean over an ex-soldier when you wake them up?”
Heero lost the younger nurse´s reply as they moved out of his range of hearing. He frowned to himself. How did she know he was ex-military? Besides that brief stint with the Guard, it wasn´t on his records. At least it shouldn´t have been, and he knew for a fact that he hadn´t told anyone. Was it really that obvious? Had he really been that transparent?
He stared at the ceiling, reevaluating his behavior, searching for the telltale giveaway he must have let slip. After several long minutes of introspection, he came to the conclusion that the older nurse was simply an incredibly good observer. He vowed to watch his behavior more carefully, nonetheless.
He shook his head and shifted to let himself drift back to sleep when a soft groan from Duo´s side of the room caught his attention.
He rolled onto his side and peered through the darkness at his partner, oblivious to the curious little frown of apprehension flitting across his face.
Duo was curled into a tight ball on his side, facing towards Heero, with his head tucked almost into his knees. He´d pulled the blanket up so high that only the crown of his head and the last two feet or so of his braid peeked out from the twisted tangle of fabric. As Heero watched, a violent shudder seemed to wrack the braided driver, and a strangled moan of pain burst from the shadowed pile of firefighter and bedding.
Heero found himself on his feet, standing beside Duo´s bed, not really sure how he´d gotten there. One hand was outstretched, not quite touching him. Heero could feel the muscles in his fingers trembling a little, betraying an inner conflict that he wasn´t even conscious of having. He snatched his hand back and held it up before his eyes for several moments, morbidly fascinated by the fine tremors seizing the offending appendage.
Another harsh, unconscious cry from Duo startled him out of his examination. At this rate. Duo would damage his already abused throat more, and probably end up on a ventilator. Heero frowned at the prospect of a delay in Duo´s recovery.
Heero shoved at the huddled mass of braided driver roughly, adding a harsh grunt for emphasis. Heero was not surprised when Duo seemed to shrug off his attempts to awaken him, and merely curled into himself even tighter.
“Duo,” he growled, shoving at Duo´s shoulder once again, this time with a little more force.
The braided man convulsed once, his whole body quaking below the blankets as if was in mortal fear.
Heero reached out and gently disentangled the sodden, sweat-soaked knot of starchy institutional linen from Duo´s stiff body, stroking the damp bangs back from Duo´s face.
Heero frowned at the pinched, grief-stricken expression on the unconscious man´s face. He knelt and laid his hand on Duo´s shoulder, the gentle shake a distinct contrast to the previous rough shoves.
“Duo. Wake up. You´re dreaming.”
Duo´s eyes shot open and he uttered a harsh cry of fear- a woman´s name, cringing back from Heero roughly, hiding his head in the crook if his arm. After a moment, he uncoiled from his tight ball and peered up at Heero through hid bangs with wide, confused eyes.
“H- Heero?” Duo mouthed, forgetting in his groggy state to not attempt to speak.
Heero stood again, withdrawing from the American´s personal space.
“You were having a nightmare,” Heero replied gruffly.
Duo blinked, confusion evident in his eyes as he opened his mouth to speak.
“Use your board, baka,” Heero admonished, pointing to the object on the nightstand.
Duo blinked again, before comprehension lit on his features. He grabbed the dry erase board and scribbled quickly.
You woke me up. Why?
There was a quiet sort of hope hidden on the American´s face. It made Heero nervous, and made his pulse race with silent confusion.
“You woke me up. Turnabout,” Heero replied curtly as he turned back to his side of the room and crawled back into his bed.
He could hear Duo trying to get his attention behind him, which is why he turned his back on the other man and rolled up in his thin hospital blanket.
“Good night, Duo,” Heero growled, hoping the braided man would take the hint and leave him alone to his disquieting thoughts.
Silence descended upon Duo´s side of the room, and Heero heard him quietly set the board and marker back on his small table. How anyone could make such a simple action sound disappointed and regretful, Heero had no idea. Then again, why should he care what it sounded like, or even what the braided baka was feeling? Just because they were basically partners didn´t mean they had to be best friends. Right?
Heero heaved a sigh into the darkness, frustrated with his failing impartiality. What was happening to him? When had he started to care about them? Any of them? Why? He had a job to do, that´s all he should be concerned about, not whether or not some crazy reckless driver was depressed or unhappy or not. What difference would it make anyway?
“Mr. Yuy?”
Heero blinked awake, a frown creasing his brow as awareness returned far more slowly than he was accustomed. The lack of a reliable REM cycle was starting to wear on him, he reasoned as he turned to stare up at the nurse.
She smiled down at him apologetically as she backed up a half step.
“Sorry. Not too much longer and we´ll let you sleep through,” she whispered.
He shrugged awkwardly and sat up a little, rubbing at his temple.
“Headache?” she asked, her voice tinged with concern.
“Nothing I can´t handle,” he replied with another shrug.
“I can-“
“I´m fine,” he interrupted, a little bit more sharply than he´d intended. He shook his head, irritated at himself, and glanced back up at her with what he hoped was at least a hint of contrition. She seemed to read it in his eyes and nodded at him as she retreated from the room.
Heaving a frustrated sigh, he turned over onto his back, pillowed his head on his arms, and stared at the ceiling, counting the tiles. That distracted him for all of a few seconds. He started counting the textured dots on the tile over his head. And then the one next to it. And the tile next to that.
When he´d managed to count the dots in every tile directly over his half of the room, he concluded that sleep wasn´t going to be returning to him any time soon. He cursed silently to himself. Counting was supposed to be therapeutic and sleep inducing, right? Why else would there be all those sheep jokes?
Unbidden, his gaze darted over towards Duo, wondering what the braided man would have made of that mental comment. Probably something crude and sexual, he reasoned. He clenched his jaw to halt the tiny smirk threatening to overtake his lips.
Inactivity was eating at him. He´d never let injury or illness affect him before this. It was frustrating. More than frustrating. Unconsciously, his gaze darted back towards Duo. He caught himself staring at the peacefully slumbering man. With a growl, he sat up and rolled out of bed, his bare feet hitting the cold linoleum with a soft slap. Grabbing a nearby robe to offer a modicum of decency otherwise not afforded by the rather annoyingly revealing hospital gowns, he padded to the wide window beyond Duo ´s bed. Careful not to open the curtain enough to bother his roommate, he leaned against the sill and peered outside.
For all that it was the dead of night, the sky was disturbingly devoid of stars. The wash of the bright downtown lights stole the tiny pinpricks of starlight from the deep black curtain of sky, even managing to blanket the thin sliver of moon in a garish shroud. He sighed, disappointed. The stars always managed to help clear his mind of clutter for some reason, and with this annoyingly painful head injury, he found that he could use that clarity now more than ever.
Of course, being roomed with Duo wasn´t helping matters either. At least he couldn´t talk now. That was one small mercy. Wasn´t it? Perhaps not.
He found himself wondering at his own concern for the braided driver. What was it about the affable clown that was so disturbingly… invasive? Yes. Invasive. That was it.
Heero had been working so hard and for so very long to keep everyone out. His life, his past, his present, his thoughts, his concern, his regard. Everything. No one had any place in any of those places but he, himself.
So how had Duo managed to worm his way in there?
He turned, shifting to lean against the wall beside the window, rather than the window; even curtained, a window at your back was just begging for trouble. Crossing his arms over his chest defensively, he stared at the other man curled so peacefully in his bed.
A thin wash of light from the opened door flooded the room, casting a soft glare over the pale features. Long lashes, chestnut like his hair, lay against Duo´s cheeks, and his lips were slightly parted; an invitation.
Heero shook his head, surprised at himself. He blinked angrily at his momentary weakness. He could not afford attachments. They wouldn´t understand. How could they?
Why would they want to?
He growled again, softly in the back of his throat, seizing the familiar violence he always felt coiled along his spine. Retreating to its comforting embrace, he turned and fled from the room at a brisk walk.
As he stalked past the nurse´s station, he dimly took notice of a slight female form moving to intercept him.
“You should be in bed, Mr. Yuy,” the reedy voice instructed him tartly.
He turned his blazing cobalt gaze upon the advancing nurse, not even taking pleasure in her startled exclamation as she met his deadly stare.
“I think a walk would help him to sleep, don´t you?” a calming female alto said, breaking the tension.
His gaze darted up, pinning the other woman, eyes narrowing as he noticed that it was that same, too wise nurse. He broke the eye contact, slipping past the station with a grim determination.
Later. Later he might be thankful. For now, he just needed to do something to take his mind off of his growing weakness.
Dully, in the back of his mind, a deep, familiar voice speaking.
“Be true to your emotions. Never be afraid to act upon them, Heero.”
Violently, he shoved the knife-edged memory away.
What would you know? You were a raving sociopath. Besides, you´re dead!
Immediately on the heels of his mental hiss, he heard the ghost of the only father he´d ever known laughing, taunting him. The cloying scent of smoke, ash, charred flesh and singed bone drifted up from his subconscious to assail his nose. He shoved violently at his childhood memories.
I am nothing like you! I will BE nothing like you! Do you hear me? NOTHING!
Odin´s taunting and knowing laughter still echoed in his head, belying Heero´s conviction.
With what would have been a roar of rage on a lesser man, Heero´s fist lashed out, striking the nearest wall. Painted cinder block cracked and groaned under the force, threatening to give way, but holding. Barely.
The pain of his flesh peeling away from his abused knuckles awoke him from his internal struggle. His father´s hateful chuckle faded into the dark recesses of his subconscious once more, taking the scent-
No. Not taking the scent of fire and overcooked meat. The odors remained. Grew stronger, in fact.
Heero´s eyes snapped open; he hadn´t even been aware of squeezing them so tightly shut.
There. It was so faint that even he doubted its existence at first. It was that clinging, retchingly familiar scent that convinced him. It, too, was faint. Nearly undetectable, even in the antiseptic air of the hospital, but nonetheless, detectable to Heero´s hyperactive olfactory passages.
He peered around, his nostrils flaring as he tried to pinpoint the location of the scent, his eyes squinting with the effort to make out the density of the thin, so thin, haze of not-quite-smoke. Following his senses, he drifted down the hallway, entering another wing.
The nurses on this wing, apparently having been pre-warned, wisely stayed out of his way, and made no comment about his questing demeanor.
He frowned angrily. Didn´t they see it? Didn´t they smell it? Or was this yet another cruel joke, courtesy of the regrettably dead Odin.
Regrettably, only because that meant Heero couldn´t have that pleasure for himself.
Doors slipped past him, some opened, some closed, as that same curious calm from the warehouse dropped over him like a comfortable skin. The calm that Duo had shattered back in that warehouse with his very presence.
Heero could feel the calm, that other place within him, tremble, and threaten to crumble as soon as Duo entered his thoughts. Not again. He wouldn´t let the braided man steal it away again.
There. That door. He could… feel something from that door.
He reached for the handle, snatching his fingers away as he felt the heat on the metal of the knob.
Swearing creatively in several languages, he cast his gaze around for a fire extinguisher. Several doors down, the hall opened up into the little area occupied by the nurse´s station for this wing. On wall opposite, he saw what he was looking for.
Ignoring the way his bare feet slapped against the cold linoleum, he dashed back and ripped the extinguisher from the wall. As he turned, he noticed the nurses staring at him with wide, curious eyes.
“Call the fire department. Now,” he ordered, leaving them to either obey, or panic.
He didn´t care which; it wasn´t his concern. As long as he could keep the fire from spreading.
Returning to the door, he pulled the pin on the extinguisher and hefted it into a ready grip. His foot lashed out, smashing into the door the same way his still bleeding fist had attacked the concrete wall earlier. The door gave way in a shower of splinters and a torturous crack.
Immediately, huge belches of thick, acrid smoke boiled out onto the hallway.
Heero ducked under the blast of heat and smoke and, taking a gulp of the cool, clean air of the hallway, dipped into the room.
It hadn´t had a chance to extend far. It didn´t really need to. It had all the fuel it needed right there on the bed. Heero played the extinguisher´s plume over the charred, and hopefully, lifeless, corpse wreathed in the fire´s arms.
In the back of his mind, he could faintly make out the annoying buzz of the hospital´s fire alarm; apparently the nurses hadn´t panicked after all.
The fire extinguisher in his hands grew cold as the carbon dioxide rushed out in carefully measured gouts. The flames guttered and flared, dancing it´s deadly ballet with the plume of gas, and slowly losing. Too slowly. He´d forgotten how tenaciously human flesh burned.
He could feel his lungs protesting their abuse; he needed a Scott mask and a tank for this. Hissing in frustration, Heero dove back into the hallway, exhaling in a great explosion of breath. He sucked in another lungful of cleaner air, carefully breathing through his mouth to avoid the sickeningly almost sweet smell of the smoke still rushing from the doorway in thick gouts.
Someone was beside him, trying to hold him back, urging him to wait for the fire department. He curbed his instant reflex to shout that he was with the fire department, before he slipped back into the room. The steel canister in his hands was freezing now, and getting dangerously light. He´d be running out of extinguishing agent soon.
As if on cue, the trigger slammed down hard to the handle, but the whoosh of gas stopped. He cursed and dodged back out of the room to grab another breath and look for a fresh extinguisher.
As he cleared the smoke, a hand reached out to steady him. He looked up, eyes going wide as they met a concerned violet gaze. Duo held out a fresh extinguisher, giving him the hand signal to ask if he was okay. Instinctively firing off the counter signal of ascent, he switched extinguishers and dove back into the room.
He spared a shot for the ceiling and curtains that were burning merrily, before turning the bulk of the fresh canister on the bed and its contents. With one last defiant whumph and flare, the last of the flames sputtered and vanished, plunging the room into preternatural gloom.
He emptied the rest of that extinguisher just for good measure before exiting the room once more.
Duo materialized beside him, taking the empty canister from him and setting it against a nearby wall.
“It´s out,” Heero said, after getting his wind back, “One victim, don´t know if… it´s alive.”
Duo nodded, jerking his chin over Heero´s shoulder to the rapidly approaching fire fighters. Heero nodded and repeated himself to the Captain who jogged up.
With a gruff growl of thanks, the firefighters set about clearing the room of smoke and checking the victim.
Heero staggered a little, exhaustion from lack of sleep finally hitting him. Duo slipped an arm under his shoulder and started leading him away. They´d only gotten a few steps when a particularly strong waft of smoke assaulted Heero´s nose, shattering his finely held control and bringing down painstakingly constructed walls.
He pulled away from Duo with a violent wrench, collapsing against a wall to empty the contents of his stomach in one furious heave.
Duo stood over Heero, protecting him from the curious stares of the hospital staff as Heero expelled even the memory of food from his abused body. After a few moments, when Heero´s body quit lurching, he knelt and laid a comforting hand on the Japanese man´s shoulder.
Red-rimmed eyes darted up to meet his own. Duo bit his lip in surprise at the confused, angry, lost expression in that cobalt gaze.
He´d been about to disobey the doctor and ask his partner what was wrong, when Heero spoke in a soft, almost childish voice that chilled the braided man to his marrow.
“Odin? No more… please… Odin…”
Heero´s eyes rolled up into his head and he slumped against Duo, unconscious.
A satisfied smile lit upon his lips as he watched the firefighters swarm over the room and its contents. Perfect. The whole thing had worked perfectly.
The smug bastard who dared think that he had control over the powers of life and death was dead now. The fire had cleansed him.
Not before he´d tried to apologize for trying to murder his mistress and their unborn child, of course. Blasphemer. To dare ask for forgiveness for that.
Well, he may not have found forgiveness in the flames, but he certainly found justice. If he was lucky, maybe a little redemption.
Probably not, though. Souls like that, poisonous and oily, they were better off destroyed. Cleansed. Purified. That would be his redemption. The fire.
At any rate, he was gone now, and no one else was hurt. His beautiful fire had only taken the wicked and left the righteous.
He let the stairwell door close with a soft click. With a childish glee, he literally skipped down the steps, bouncing from one to another as a mad little giggle slipped from his lips.
He was cleansed. Now all that remained was the mother.
He´d have to wait to purify her. It would be too dangerous with the firefighters already here. His fire was powerful and beautiful, but not invincible. Not to the brave knights who had been specially trained and prepared to withstand its fury and powers.
He didn´t hate firefighters. Not even when they killed his beautiful, purifying flame. Oh no. It took great courage to not only withstand, but do battle with the seductively raging beast that was his Purification.
A flare of rage ignited along his soul.
These knights. So fragile. They would willingly stare down the gullet of the fire, place themselves in the path of its purging rage. So certain were they of their own purity, they would face down hell itself to save others from its deadly kiss.
Oh he knew that even the innocent could be taken by the flames. There was no lamb´s blood brushed lintel to ward off this judgment. It wasn´t in the nature of fire to be selective. The strong withstood, the weak fell.
But the knights, these firefighters… They were strong. They would withstand. They would be the blood of the lamb for the innocent.
That´s why he respected them so. No. Why he loved them so.
He did this for them. He would purify the world for his knights. And for the children. For the pure.
For them all he would bring the cleansing rage of the flame to the world. For them, he would set it all right.
Cinders and ash…
~TBC~
~RavynFyre~