June 1999
"Oh FUCK!"
Great, Duo. You've just seen what must qualify as a miracle and all you can think off to say is 'Oh *fuck*'. No wonder God hates you.
His heart was beating a mile a minute and it was all he could do to not pee in his pants when the corpse of the man he knew as Adam stirred. And as he watched it do more than stir -- It *moaned*! -- Duo battled with his body's self-preserving mechanisms and fought the desire to just faint. It seemed as though he was watching what was ahppening through another's eyes. He could see his own skinny carcass leaning against the wall, stupidly gaping at a living man who was -- two minutes ago -- supposed to be dead. He could feel himself desperately trying to will himself into the concrete wall, pulling away from the dark-haired man who was slowly rising up from the panther-like crouch, looking at him with the most intense green eyes that seemed to glow golden in the darkness.
"I believe that's mine."
Didn't he once think that he'd never hear that voice again? Yeah, Duo, you did. Well, guess what? You got what you wished for. Now don't you just wish that you'd use up that wish to ask for something more important? Like waking up in Shinigami and finding out that all this is just one bad dream?
"Boy? My sword?"
Adam was speaking. To him. Duo could only drop his gaze from the mesmerizing green eyes and bloodstreaked face to stare stupidly at the large sword balanced limply against his shaky legs. Hell, the sword was actually holding him *up*!
"Your sword?" Duo heard his own voice squeak and he grimaced inwardly. What are you, Maxwell? Man or mouse?
The darkhaired man nodded sharply, his eyebrows rising a little as he held out his hand for his property. The green eyes seemed to laugh at his ineptness, his confusion. Shit! But he had a right to be confused, didn't he? It wasn't every day that you saw a resurrection!
Duo never realised that he had been moving closer towards Adam, pulling on the sword as its point dragged on the concrete, drawing a disapproving look from its owner.
"Uh..sorry," Duo stammered, stopping when he realised that the scratchy sound came from the sword as it raked across hard concrete. "It's a bit heavy..."
"I know. But you get used to it after a while." Adam's voice caressed, soothing away some of the confusion he felt. Belatedly Duo realised that Adam had taken possession of his sword once more, lifting it effortlessly as though it weighed no more than the backpack hanging lifelessly behind him.
Lifeless.
*You were dead.* "You were dead." Duo heard himself give voice to that flat statement that swam in his head like a demented fish.
Adam quirked an eyebrow at him, a small lopsided smile on his lips. "Was I?"
"Yes. I know dead when I see it." Duo marvelled at the calmness in his own voice. Wow, Maxwell. You're an even better actor than you give yourself credit for. Because all he wanted to really do right now was run home -- wherever home happened to be at that particular space and time -- and hide under the sheets and hoped that this nightmare would go away.
The tall man turned away from him, sword glinting deadly in one hand. Duo watched as Adam walked towards Krokopovitch's body, fascinated with the taller man's actions. Until it dawned on him what Adam meant to do.
"What are you doing?!" There. That sounded more like it. The rising panic that he failed to quell finally broke through the layers of his control, surfacing with bitter clarity in that one sharp question.
Duo willed himself to move, and move he did, almost running up to Adam, who stood poised with his sword raised above Krokopovitch's head. "What are you doing?" he asked again, his voice shaky and less sure now, his hand tentatively clutching at the man's leather sleeve.
Adam's voice sounded old and tired when he finally answered, a monotone that meant nothing and everything. "Finishing what should have never begun." The sword arced downwards, intent on its target. And in that instant, Duo reacted, pushing the much larger man with all the weight he had behind him and they fell, the boy atop the man, landing in a heap of limbs and caustic curses.
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, you asshole?"
"Geez, man. Did anyone ever tell you that you got a real potty mouth?" Duo levered himself to his knees, leaning away from the man's larger body as it lay sprawled once again on the floor of the alley. Only this time the man -- Adam -- was alive. Very much alive. Alive and kicking. And cursing a real mean, blue streak.
"Potty mouth? I'll show you potty mouth," Adam muttered as he too, pushed himself up, brushing away Duo's efforts to help him up. "Why don't you just run along, *boy*, and let a man clear up some unfinished business," he ordered, narrowed eyes daring Duo to answer back.
A challenge Duo Maxwell of course lived up to.
"Don't you 'boy' me. The man is *dead*, okay? It's one thing to kill someone, but you don't mutilate his corpse, man! No matter what he ever did to you," he hissed, a little angry at being patronised. "You gotta give the dead some respect," he added, more quietly.
Duo would have liked to think that it was what he said that stayed the man's hand, but somehow, deep inside, he didn't -- couldn't -- believe that. But whatever it was, Adam just stood there, looking at him as though he'd grown another head.
"What?" Duo finally asked, a little alarmed at the look Adam was giving him. The skin of his throat started to itch and there was a disturbing choked feeling welling up inside him.
Adam eyed him, sword in hand but unmoving otherwise. "Do you really believe that?"
"What? Respecting the dead?"
Adam didn't physically indicate an acknowledgement, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. Duo broke into a wide grin.
"Hey! You really *did* listen!" A confused look flitted across Adam's finely chiselled features, prompting Duo to quickly answer. "Yeah, sure. You gotta, man. Who'd return the favour when it's finally your turn, eh?"
Adam laughed. A rich, real, sincere laugh.
"What did I say?" Duo whined, crestfallen at missing a joke. Or was he the joke? Damn!
"Come here," Adam chuckled, reaching out for Duo. And somehow, Duo trusted the man. The man he saw wielding a sword like it was an extension of his own body. The man whom he saw die and come back to life. The man who laughed and was laughing still. He'd never met him before; he knew nothing about him; he didn't know whether he was friend or foe. But he trusted him.
And to Duo, trust meant a lot. So he went.
End Part Nine
Shirin
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