Jul 2, 2000
Here's part five for those of you who are still with me - sorry about its being so short. <:) At this point, I feel compelled to warn you that the story is DARK. If you're squeamish, you might want to skip the next few parts, or if you want, write me privately and I'll give you a hint of what happens in this part so you can decide whether you want to read it. Or if you want to skip the gruesome parts, write to me and I'll give you a non-gruesome synopsis so you can skip this part and catch up later. Just don't read it and *then* get mad at me, K? <:)
I hope I don't really need to warn you that the story as a whole is both yaoi and a lemon, meaning that it has sexually explicit male/male interaction. It also features some B&D, brutality and nonconsensual sexual activity - if the idea of that offends you, please feel free to delete the fic unread. ^_^ Also, please feel free to point out any OOC behavior you see (it's in there! *^_^*), as I'm still learning and hope to make my next GW fic better. Any constructive comments, whether positive or negative, public or private, will be gratefully and joyfully received. ^_^ I consider all my stories to be drafts until I put them in HTML for my web page, so if you see any obvious flaws, please point them out to me. <:)
Just for the sake of pretending like I have a legal leg to stand on, I figured I should mention here that I did not create Gundam Wing, that I have no rights to the series and that I mean no disrespect whatsoever to the creator/creators, nor is this story meant to be taken as a claim to either the characters or the situations which were not created by me. Also, I not only have no money, I'm in debt past my eyeballs, and suing me would be pretty durn pointless since there wouldn't be anything to gain by it.
Gee, I hope that does it. ^_~ On with the story!
"We have to hurry," Quatre said, his voice over the comlink betraying more than a hint of anxiety.
"They won't let him out for another 15 minutes," Trowa answered placidly. "There's no point in hurrying."
"Trowa, I just know something horrible's happened to him!" Quatre said urgently. "I can feel it!"
"Just try to be patient," Trowa answered, his own darkly-shadowed eyes betraying the degree of worry that he himself had experienced. Of the occupants of the new safe house, Wufei had been the only one to get any sleep, and that had only been due to the combined force of sheer exhaustion and a measured amount of alcohol. "We only have a few more minutes to go," he added.
"It hurts," Quatre whispered. "Something terrible's happened. I can feel it."
The minutes stretched out for an agonizing eternity. It had been the longest 24 hours, with Heero furiously pacing the small living room and Quatre ceaselessly fretting. Just before dawn, Heero had disappeared without a word, which had only increased Quatre's trepidation. The blond had taken over pacing the length of the apartment, and Trowa had watched helplessly, unable to reassure Quatre when he shared the same feeling of dread. It had seemed to last forever, but finally the long night had passed.
Sandrock and Heavyarms landed without fanfare, each of the pilots braced for any kind of surprise attack. Zehn might keep his word to release Duo when his 24 hours were up, but that didn't necessarily mean that they'd be allowed to leave unchallenged.
The remaining minutes slowly crawled forward, and just when Trowa thought he might snap with the tension the huge doors of the main entrance swung open. A swarm of armed men poured through the portal, and then General Zehn himself stepped out to wave cheerfully to the Gundam pilots, raising a microphone to project the sound of his voice to the tall mechs.
"As promised, your Duo is being returned to you. I trust you will keep your word as men of honor, as I have kept mine, and see him safely away from these lands."
"Return Duo to us, and we'll leave peacefully," Quatre promised. A small knot of soldiers moved forward, and Sandrock knelt to meet them, reaching down to cradle the limp, bedraggled form that the men tossed into the Gundam's giant palm. As Sandrock carefully straightened, the men ran for their own mechs, and Quatre felt his mouth dry in terror as the hatch slowly opened. Trowa stood guard as Quatre pulled Sandrock's hand in toward the hatch, and the blond stepped out of the safety of the cockpit to pull Duo in. His breath caught in his throat as he wrapped his arms around the limp, slender form and half-dragged him into the cockpit.
Quatre could almost breathe a sigh of relief as Sandrock's hatch finally closed, but his heart was breaking at the sight of Duo's battered form. The Deathscythe pilot's blackened eyes were mostly swollen shut, his lower lip was split, and his mouth hung agape as he panted in obvious pain. The now-filthy black priest outfit hung from him in tatters, and what skin showed through the rents was mottled with darkening bruises. His hair was unbraided, and the long mass was matted and plastered to his back with a mixture of blood, semen and urine.
"Oh, Duo..." Quatre breathed, but there was no voice behind it. Wordlessly, his throat painfully tight, Quatre strapped his passenger into the harness he had thought to provide this time and clambered into the pilot seat.
"As promised, we'll leave now," Trowa said dispassionately. Quatre dimly reflected that Trowa wouldn't be nearly as collected if he had actually seen Duo himself. "We don't require an escort."
"Ah, but I insist that you allow us to escort you at least to the border of these lands," Zehn said with a slightly snide smirk. Trowa took off, followed by Quatre and about a half-dozen enemy mechs. If he was startled by Heero's sudden appearance, Trowa didn't show it, but Quatre cried out in glad surprise as Wing ripped through their unwanted escort. While Heero and Trowa kept the enemy occupied, Quatre sped toward the new safe house with his wounded friend.
Agony! The deep-voiced cheering and jeering had muted somehow into a low rumble, and the world swooped and dipped around him, each motion pressing him against the straps that held him in place and eliciting another stab of fresh pain. His eyes were blurred, and refused to open fully, let alone cooperate with one another and focus. He knew he had taken several pretty solid blows to the head... and he didn't want to think about the rest, even though the sharp, stabbing torment in the lower half of his body and the excruciating pain in his jaw made it hard to forget.
A particularly pronounced shift in direction flung him against his restraints, and vocal cords strained by screaming allowed only an odd, hoarse gasp before giving out entirely. Through the starburst of pain, he thought he saw pale hair and a tentative smile, and he wondered for a brief instant if he were dead.
"We're home, Duo," a familiar voice said. "Sorry for the rough landing..." and as strong, slender hands gently began unfastening the bedeviled harness, violet eyes filmed over with tears. So he wasn't dead yet; God hadn't been that kind, to relieve him of his suffering. The hands were not those of an angel, but of a well-meaning friend.
The world had become Duo Maxwell's own private Hell.
It took some time to get Duo situated in the new safe-house; once he was free of the safety harness, it became evident that both his shoulders had been dislocated. There was some discussion on how best to get the semi-conscious pilot to the house, since he obviously couldn't climb down. In the end, Heero and Trowa strapped Duo back into the harness and lowered him as gently as possible to the ground. None of the boys so much as curled his lip where Duo could see, but the sight of him, broken and shuddering, was a terrible hurt to all three of them.
"Duo? Are you... can you talk to us?" Quatre asked hesitantly, only now noticing that Duo's mouth hung open at an odd angle.
"His jaw is dislocated, too," Heero said, his impassive mask failing to hide the tremor in his voice. "I think I can fix it... Duo, this is going to hurt like hell."
Duo sagged toward him, and his head nodded ever so slightly. Taking that as permission, Heero gripped the boy's jaw with one powerful hand, and the back of his head with the other. Steeling himself for a moment, he prayed that whatever God had brought Duo back alive would help him do this right, and then with a terrible wrench and horrible grating sound, he forced the jawbone back in position. Duo didn't struggle or scream or glare at him with baleful violet eyes, as Heero had half-expected. Instead he fainted, and Heero released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Gently he worked Duo's jaw up and down, reassuring himself that it was as close to fixed as he could get it. Duo could end up suffering from pain in the joint for the rest of his life, but at least he would be able to talk and chew.
Heero didn't even glance at Quatre and Trowa, who had both gone pale and queasy. Instead, he took advantage of Duo's loss of consciousness to wrench his shoulders back into alignment as well, and without so much as glancing at his comrades he stripped the filthy scraps of clothing from Duo's body in order to see what further injuries...
"Oh, God..." Quatre whispered, and ran from the room.
End Part Five
Yoiko ^_^
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