June 1999
Desperately needed some mental purging.
Author's Warning: Standard disclaimers apply. This is the first part of what will eventually -- hopefully -- be a crossover with a non-anime series. I don't know when the next part will come out, or if it will *ever* come out. If not, this will just be another piece of fluff, ne? I'll make sure each part can stand on its own, if there are more.
A bit of Duo-angst, Quatre-torture, and socially- questionable goings-on *grin* Other than that, this fic is suitable for general audience. At the moment there's no slash or yaoi, and I have absolutely *no* idea if there ever will be. <LOL>
C&Cs and suggestions welcomed. Flames tolerated. Nagging deleted (just kidding ^_^ - who'd wanna nag for this?).
Innocence. Innocents.
Children. They're sending children. This is what the future is reduced to? Has mankind deteriorated so much? Has humanity died and left a monster in its wake? Has centuries of forging blood and tears into civilisations, into worlds of sentience come to naught?
Children...
There is no more honor.
Duo gazed out of the window, taking in the busy courtyard outside. The dry desert wind pushed against the old-fashioned shutters and they swung to and fro, creaking noisily. They would have banged against the mortar wall but for the small metal hooks that held them in place at the window sill. But even then, the sounds the shutters made were distracting enough to keep Duo's mind on the present.
It was an old settlement, one that had existed in the desert's anonymity for decades. If he tried, he could almost forget what lay beyond the settlement. If he concentrated on the sounds of rural commerce below, he could almost block out the memories of falling metal, explosions...
The thud an empty husk of humanity made when it fell against the hard earth.
Duo shut his eyes against the harsh afternoon sun. He'd been here for what seemed an eternity, watching the same hustle and bustle day in, day out. At first, it was uplifting. Comforting even. The Maguarnacs tried hard to make him feel at home, as though knowing that he'd never actually *lived* in a desert before. Granted, the settlement was on an oasis, but still, the whole place was so damn *dry*.
And hot.
Women laughed and gossiped in the marketplace, bundled up and swathed in long drapes of cloth and flowing headresses. Their chatter made him smile. Even as the sight of them made him feel even hotter...
He blew a sharp breath upwards, fluffing up bangs that fell across his eyes in a ragged fringe. His hair was getting longer, he noticed. He'd have to trim it soon, but not today. Or tomorrow. He still needed the feeling of distance it gave; a wall to hide behind...
Days. He'd only been here a few days. Sometimes he forgot that -- the days and nights seemed to stretch out endlessly. Hours upon hours. Day and night blending seamlessly into one never-ending period marked by sleeping and waking.
"Duo?" A new sound. A new creak. The door to the sparsely-furnished room opened, revealing the new friend he'd made.
"Quatre. Anything wrong?" Duo moved away from the window, retreating into the cooler shade of the room. The bright square of sunlight on the floor bled onto the wooden flooring, broken at places by the shadows cast by the wooden slats of the shutters. Little dots of light littered the floor, reminders of tiny beams of sunshine that managed to break through the tiling of the roof.
The blonde boy moved into the room quietly, holding the heavy wooden door open with one hand. Its hinges were heavy iron, old and rusty, but still serviceable. Just one part of the old building they used as a temporary shelter. Just one part of a whole. Throw that part away and the door would lose its function. Crippled. Useless.
Damn but he was feeling morbid, Duo realised as he shuffled towards the door. Absently, he shrugged his shoulders, stretching muscles too long inactive. Searching the aquamarine eyes of his companion, Duo couldn't help wondering at how well the blonde boy fitted in. The dusky blonde hair seemed to blend at times, with the white gold of the sands at high noon. And his eyes reflected the sky -- so many layers of blue that it became a totally different hue altogether.
Quatre wasn't even sweating, Duo snorted to himself. Some guys have all the luck...
"Are you okay?" Quatre's voice was soft, husky. "You've been in here since yesterday..."
"I'm okay." Duo smiled a little at the other's concern. After such a long time of living alone, being totally independent, it was a little disconcerting.
"You didn't come down for lunch." Alto tones bordering on sonorous bass. "I got worried..."
"Ne, Quatre. No need to worry," Duo laughed, shaking his head slightly. The ragged edge of his fringe swayed, revealing large violet eyes that peeked mischievously at his friend. "No one ever died from a missed meal."
Quatre smiled, relief washing over him visibly. Duo had seemed so shaken after what had transpired a few days ago. Five of them against OZ. The odds had been overwhelming, but incredibly, they had been winning.
Until OZ played dirty.
And five became four.
Quatre lowered his head slightly when he felt Duo's hand grip his shoulder lightly. He moved aside, allowing the longhaired boy to exit before following him. The door shut of its own accord, the heavy wood swinging closed once there was nothing to hold it open. Duo walked silently, his heavy boots making hardly a sound on the wooden planking.
"There's still some stew," Quatre ventured as the two of them reached the stairs, "if you're hungry."
"Yeah. That sounds good," Duo nodded, his voice so low, it was almost inaudible.
A slight frown shifted momentarily across Quatre's face. He hadn't known Duo long -- they had only met during that fatal battle. Whatever he knew of the boy silently walking down the stairs before him was what his computers had dredged up -- a miserly 10 kilobytes of digital trash.
'Subject - Duo Maxwell. Harvest date - unknown. Security identification number - unknown. Residential registration - unknown....'
Officially, Duo did not exist. But that non-existent being was sitting across him, slurping noisily at hot, thick mutton stew. Quatre quirked a smile at the braided boy as the latter dunked a piece of unleavened bread into his stew.
"Good, huh?" Quatre asked, breaking a tiny piece of bread and chewing it slowly.
"U-huh," Duo nodded, breaking into an easy grin that made Quatre's heart glad. True, he hadn't known Duo long, and he didn't know much -- nearly nothing, actually -- about him. But he knew that the boy with the braided hair was someone he could trust. With his life, if necessary.
Duo belched.
And laughed at Quatre's horrified expression. "Oi! Don't tell me you've never done *that*, Quatre?" Duo's eyes twinkled, mottled pinpoints of light shining within amethyst depths.
"Uh...no, actually," the blonde boy replied, almost guiltily. It was strange, feeling embarrassed for not having experienced what was such a common physiological phenomenon. Rude, but common. Obviously, Duo thought otherwise.
"You're kidding me, man! You've never, like, barfed before?"
Quatre shook his head, smiling almost hesitantly. "No. My family wouldn't have thought it appropriate."
"Yeah? Well, lucky me, then," Duo grinned.
"Your family didn't mind?"
Duo chuckled. "Nope. No family."
Quatre stifled a gasp. "I...I'm sorry to hear that."
"Why?" Duo peered at Quatre from under his shaggy bangs, an almost predatory look in his eyes.
"I mean...uh...because your family...I mean, because you don't have... Oh pooh!" Quatre huffed, exasperated.
Duo jerked in surprise, eyes wide and unbelieving. "Pooh? Did you just say 'Pooh'?"
"Yes," Quatre nodded, curious suddenly at Duo's reaction. "Why? I didn't offend you, did I? Oh dear...," the blonde fretted, clenching his hands as they lay in his lap.
Duo howled. "Ohmanomanoman! Quatre!" Duo stopped to take a long swallow from the glass beside his empty bowl. "You, my friend," he grinned, wiping his mouth with the back of one hand as he poked at Quatre's chest with the other, "are in need of a lesson in contemporary vocabulary. Specifically, effective expletives."
"Contemporary vocabulary? Effective expletives"
"Yeah! Good swear words, man! 'Pooh' is just so...so... Damn! 'Pooh' just does *not* cut it. Trust me on this, 'kay?" Duo nodded knowingly.
"It doesn't?"
"Nope," Duo grinned. "Face it, Quatre," Duo sighed as he settled back in his chair. He dug into one of his pockets, face scrunched up as he searched for something. "Found it!" Duo beamed as he held up a small metal rod, sharpened at one end.
Quatre raised his eyebrows in silent curiosity.
"You've heard of the handy-dandy Swiss army knife?" Duo smiled as he ran a finger along the metal rod, glancing momentarily at Quatre.
"Yes."
"Well, this here's the Maxwell Multipurpose Metal Pick," he grinned, turning the metal piece this way and that to catch the light. "It picks locks, programs clocks, defuses explosives - "
"No way!"
"Yes way," Duo glared with mock anger. "As I was saying, this here is a tool for any self-respecting Gundam pilot. Hell, if I market it, I'd make a fortune. But they're only five -- I mean, four of us..." Quatre did not miss the slight hitch in Duo's brash tone as he corrected himself. Nor did he miss the subtle lowering of the other boy's voice. "Not much of a buyer's market, ne?" Duo continued, hardly missing a beat.
Quatre smiled despite himself. He could see the pain in Duo's face, however fleeting. It brought back to mind that brief moment when Wing Gundam had self-destructed; when all four of them watched in morbid fascination as the boy they knew as Heero Yuy fell to his death. They couldn't save the mobile suit, nor its pilot. But Trowa...
Trowa had scooped up that limp body and disappeared with it. Quatre almost sniffed at the images flying through his mind. OZ would pick the broken mobile suit apart, learning whatever secrets it might still hold. But Trowa had made sure that OZ would not defile the human behind the machine. Whatever was left of him. Quatre hoped that Trowa found a good place to bury Heero. He just wished that he could have been there. But there had been more than one casualty that day. One that still lived, but a casualty none-the-less.
"But you know what this baby does best, Quatre?"
Quatre blinked. "No. But I have this sinking feeling that you're going to tell me, right?" Quatre propped his chin with both hands, giving full attention to the longhaired boy before him. Duo cleared his throat, then leaned forward with a conspiratorial wink.
"This," Duo stage-whispered, holding the pick between two fingers. He leaned in closer. "This is great for..."
Quatre stared at the sharp point of the pick as Duo waved it hypnotically in front of his eyes. The single pick became two then became one again. Quatre knew his eyes were crossed. He just knew it. He probably looked -
"OW! SHIT! Duo! What the hell-!?" Quatre yelped, jumping up as he clutched at his nose. "You stabbed me! You idiot! You stabbed me in the bloody NOSE!"
Duo chuckled, eyeing the offending weapon in his hand. "Yup," he nodded almost to himself. "Works every time. See Quatre..."
"What?!" Quatre snapped, not slightly miffed.
"It's a great expletive enhancer."
"It's a what? Maxwell! Ewwww...gross!" Quatre balked, immediately forgetting what Duo had been saying when he saw another of the pick's functions.
"What?" Duo asked with total innocence as he picked his teeth. Why, Quatre looked almost...apopleptic.
"You...you..." Quatre gestured wildly at Duo's pick which was stuck between widely smiling lips. "You...My..." The blonde pointed frantically at his nose. Duo squinted, trying to locate the barely visible red spot at the tip of Quatre's nose.
"Duo! You...you...Oh yech! I'll get zits! Shit! Don't you know the bacteria -- God only knows *what* bacteria's on that thing! Dammit Duo! What the hell did you think you were doing?" Quatre was yelling. He knew he was yelling, but yelling was good. Yelling was cleansing. Duo deserved to be yelled at after a stunt like that. He could hear harried footsteps outside the house -- the guards must have heard the commotion but he didn't care. He *wanted* to yell. And he damn well *will* yell.
Duo yawned, pulled the pick out of his mouth and wiped it on his sleeve before pocketing it. Cocking an eyebrow at the fuming blonde, Duo gave Quatre a lopsided grin. "You didn't say 'Pooh'."
End Part One
Shirin
Please send comments to: shirini@pc.jaring.my