"Remade and Remodeled "

Written By: Artemis

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and its characters are copyright to Sunrise, Bandai, Sotsu Agency, and associated parties. I make no money with this fic.

Rating: NC 17

Warnings: Alternate reality, hurt/comfort, angst

Pairings: 6x2

Summary: The challenge of an outlandish bet brings unforeseen consequences

"Remade and Remodeled "

The pearl blue Porsche pulled into the parking lot of Woodman's. It was out of place, Zechs was out of place. This was the closest the working class neighborhood had ever come to the top one percentile of the population. And by the looks they were giving him they were thinking, "He must be lost or nuts to be driving in here with a car like that."

Zechs ignored them and parked in front of the store in the tow-away zone. No one would dare. He entered the store through the automatic doors and quickly scanned the checkout area for his bag boy in question.

"Welcome to Woodman's," a middle-aged woman in a burgundy smock and khaki pants said in greeting. "Will you be needing a shopping cart today?"

"No, thank you," Zechs said with a wave of his hand. "I need to speak with Duo Maxwell."

"Duo?” she asked.

"That's what I said," Zechs replied, barely stopping from rolling his eyes.

The woman turned and peered down the line of checkout lanes. "He’s bagging in aisle ten. But he won't be going on break for another hour..."

The last bit of information went unheeded. Zechs was in motion. This was crazy, he knew, but then why were his legs moving of their own volition?

He locked on the braid, and as it swayed with the boy, Zechs was reminded of the previous night, watching the boy and that braid ride away. It had been a moment of surreal proportion, when the laws of physics had hiccupped in protest to no effect. How had this young man survived being hit by a mini-van, picking himself up from the pavement, and going to work the very next day?

Duo Maxwell, Zechs thought, repeating the name as though it held the answer to some great mystery.

Zechs stood several feet away from him now, watching him fill paper bags with cartons of milk, bananas, graham crackers—an endless stream of goods from an endless line of shoppers. Under the heavy bangs, Zechs could see a bandage nearly, but not entirely covering the cut from where the boy's head had struck asphalt. Now that the blood was gone, the wound didn't look as painful, but still Zechs cringed remembering how this slight body had met steel and crashed in slow motion to the ground.

The boy looked over his shoulder, feeling watched. "Can I help you?"

"I wanted to see how you were doing... after last night," Zechs said. For some reason a slight smile curved on his lips.

"Do I know you?" Duo asked, looking back at his task briefly and then back at the stranger in the dark suit.

"I tried to help you last night."

Large, blue eyes blinked and blinked again. "What?"

"The accident.”

"Hey, come on," the cashier interrupted, her face scrunched in disapproval. "You're putting the bread in with the canned goods."

Duo shook his head, looking down at the bag, pulling the cans back out one by one.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Zechs asked, persistent.

"What's it to you?" the boy answered, flashing him a hard look over his shoulder.

That was the same look he had gotten the night before. Okay, Zechs thought. What is it to me? What does it matter what becomes of this chap? Am I really here because of Treize's ridiculous bet?

"I only thought..." Zechs began to explain, but then stopped. The boy was leaning forward over the counter and grocery bags, his hand pressed to his forehead. Zechs reached out, putting his hand on the young man's shoulder. "You don't look well."

With a hard shrug, Duo extricated himself from the touch. "I'm fine just... tired."

Now the cashier had left her post and was pushing past Zechs, her hand on Duo's arm to steady him. "He's right, you don't look well. I think you'd better sit down."

The young man nodded and let her guide him to a bench near the service counter, but before they reached the bench he wobbled and nearly fell. She tried to steady him again, but this time Zechs was at his side.

"He needs a doctor. He was in a car accident last night."

The woman looked at him with curiosity and protectiveness in her eyes. "I'll get the manager."

"Forget the manager, this boy needs medical attention," Zechs growled.

He took matters into his own hands, something he was very good at doing. One arm went round the boy's middle, bringing their bodies close and accentuating the great disparity in their sizes. His hand held firm under Duo's ribs. Instinctively he wanted to caress the boy's side, to soothe him, but he resisted the urge. They walked out of the store, for once the young man not protesting. Either he was finally accepting Zechs's aid or he was too ill to care.

Outside, Zechs put the boy in his car. "I'm taking you to the nearest emergency room."

"My bike," Duo said, again holding his hand to his head.

Zechs looked along the storefront. There were several bikes locked in a bike rack. Which one?

"I'll buy you a new one," Zechs said, not wanting to waste any more time.

He hopped into the driver's seat just as the store's manager appeared at the curbside. "Maxwell, are you really sick?"

The boy groaned and tried to lift his head to answer, but was unable.

"If this is some stunt you're pulling," the man said, giving Zechs and the car a long, suspicious gaze. "I want a doctor's written excuse."

Zechs started the car, revving the engine unnecessarily. "I'm sure he'll be fine. Thank you for your concern."

The man looked at him dumbfounded as they drove away.

+ + +

On first glance, the hospital emergency room seemed the wrong place to have come for medical attention. As Duo was steered inside it was clear that the waiting area was overcrowded and had been for some time by the looks of the empty snack bags and cans of pop littering the floor.

Duo's blond rescuer sighed and propped him against a wall. "Will you be all right if I leave you here a moment?"

Duo lifted his head, blinking heavy eyelids at the man. "Yeah," he said, though he wasn't entirely sure.

Duo's eyes closed again. Why was he so tired? Oh, it would feel good right now to lie down and sleep, and as he was about to succumb he felt hands under his armpits, holding him up. His eyes opened to see the persistent stranger standing there.

"I found you a chair," he said, gently maneuvering Duo into it. "Now I'm going to get you a doctor."

"Good luck," Duo said, nodding toward what looked more like an encampment than a hospital waiting room. Odds were they would be here for hours.

"I won't need it," the man said and walked off again.

Duo watched him approach the admissions desk, wait patiently for all of three seconds, and then lean over and tap the nurse on the shoulder. She looked up, annoyed, barked something at him and then her mouth snapped shut. Duo was too far away to hear the conversation or to see the man's face, but in less than a minute the nurse was smiling and jumping up from her chair, grabbing a wheelchair and making her way over to him.

Who was this guy that he could maneuver his way through the bureaucracy of an emergency room in under sixty seconds?

"Duo," she said, touching his arm. "I'm going to take you inside now while Mr. Merquise fills out some forms."

Merquise? The name didn't mean anything to him.

She helped him into the wheelchair and took him into the treatment area. As they passed through the automatic doors Duo asked her, "What's that guy's name?"

"Don't you know? That's Zechs Merquise."

Duo turned in the wheelchair, looking back to the waiting area just as the doors were closing. He could see the tall, blond man there... Zechs Merquise. The man had the papers in his hands, but Duo doubted he would be filling them out.

Forty minutes later, Duo was getting out of a wheelchair and into Zechs's car.

"Post concussion syndrome," Zechs said, repeating the diagnosis as he closed the passenger side door for Duo.

Duo nodded. His cut was now properly cleaned and bandaged with cotton gauze and first aid tape, and the scrapes on his hands and knees tended to with the same care. Thank goodness he had no need of stitches.

"You must be relieved to know you only need a few days rest and some Tylenol," Zechs said, now in the driver's seat and starting the car.

Duo was too out of it to answer. The combination of the concussion and the sedative they'd given him to ensure he would sleep made him extremely apathetic. He didn't even care to ask where he was being taken. But he did know one thing--the man's name. Zechs Merquise, he thought as he drifted off... Zechs Merquise.

 

~ * ~

Chapter 4

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