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"Iron Fists "Written By: ELLE and Miss Murdered Disclaimer: If Gundam Wing was ours, there'd be ONE damned cannon kiss. All for fun, fun for all! :D Rating: NC 17 Warnings: post EW, physical violence, m/m sexual
relations, cursing, you know – the typical angsty stuff! Pairings: 1x2x1, Summary: In the world of illegal cage fighting there are no rules and only the strongest survive. It is a world that Duo has been undercover in for over a year and when the Preventers fear he may have gone rogue unexpected back up arrives... Author's Notes: Miss Murdered mentioned this little
inkling to ELLE one day and several weeks later after ELLE's desire
to get into a fight peeked, ELLE asked if they might team up and write
some delicious, sexy fight scenes. All Duo's chapters are Miss Murdered's,
all Heero's are ELLE's. Enjoy! "Iron Fists "
19. They wanted to know who the fuck he contacted and what he damn said. Duo didn't give them anything. He figured they knew it was the Preventers as who the fuck else would give a shit about a place like this - a place where the worst of humanity was entertainment and bets were placed on walking fucking corpses. He figured Milliardo probably told Kerrigan everything - maybe even that he used to be a Gundam pilot. Maybe might bring some extra money in for the death fight if the rich and powerful knew they were gonna watch a little shit who'd caused so much death and destruction fight and potentially die behind the mesh. Duo knew they weren't fucking popular - thus the reason they were hidden, their identities taken away and all traces of them erased from those history books as too many important people had had links to Romefeller or OZ or fucking White Fang. Kerrigan had sat in on the first few interrogations - his face impassive, his fingertips holding his jaw up as he watched. He always stopped his boys before they became too rough - roughed him up enough that his breathing was laboured and he bled onto the metallic floor but not too much that he couldn't move or get to his feet for another smack down. Milliardo's words rang in his damn ears. Time for the Demon to make a reappearance. And Duo guessed that was the damn reason they were going easy. That they wanted him to be able to fight in the fucking cage and die there - maybe wanted him to fight a little before he fell. It would make a bit more money if he was able to actually throw a punch rather than appear like some weak streak of piss unable to hold himself up because of broken ribs and bruised flesh. They started to go 'round in cycle. He'd be dragged from his fucking cell. They'd ask a few questions, pull his head back with his hair and then he'd refuse or insult them - insult their mothers, their heritage, how small their dicks were and they'd respond with a harsh hit to the face and he'd have to take it as there was always too many and he was fucked. It went through a few days, no longer deprived of light in the cell but it soon became fucking unpleasant as they oh so thoughtfully provided him with a bucket to piss in and he waited. Kerrigan stopped appearing as though he was no longer important and if Duo hadn't known that Kerrigan wanted him in the cage at the next death fight, he would be sure he was on damn death row. Least they no longer cuffed him, least they gave him food and water and least he wasn't dead yet. Where there was life, there was a chance or something. Remembered something like that. Sister Helen and a stupid fucking flower that sure as shit did not belong on a shitty colony in the L2 cluster striving through dead soil trying to live and those words. "Where there is life - there is hope." Had to have fucking hope. In Heero. Assumed that Heero would've done something and each day that they continued to interrogate him, he assumed that Heero was still on the outside, still uncompromised, maybe agreed to some shitty deal with Milliardo. He held onto that hope, that idea that somehow Heero could work this out and complete the fucking mission. The idea of rescue, that stupid hope soon got fucked over as three days passed and he had become used to his bi-daily beating and the routines of his capture like he had during his stays at OZ's mercy. But instead of being dragged to a bright room, to be shoved down on the floor and to be worked over - the destination was different and Duo suddenly became aware that he was being walked towards the locker rooms and the amphitheatre. It seemed like a lifetime ago that Duo had fought in fucking cage as he was pushed into the red locker room and saw no other fighters. The fact that there were no other damn fighters was a mindfuck. This was it, MJ said, the big death fight and sure as shit they'd want a full night of entertainment for the rich and powerful assholes. A full night of fights - not just him. But he was damn alone, a pair of shorts waiting for him and some wraps to tie up his wrists. He knew he'd always been ever so slightly superstitious as a fighter, had his routine but it all felt disconcerting and he sure as shit didn't like it. He showered, ridding himself of the grime and blood and sweat from the last few days and put on the shorts, sat down on the bench and began to slowly wrap his wrists up, mindful of the pain in his fingers caused by one of his beatings where one of the motherfuckers had tried to pull them back a little too far. They left him alone as there was nowhere for him to run. He'd run up against cool steel and fuck all else and there was nothing left to damn well do but go back into the cage. Be the Demon. Remember how to fight like he was back from hell and at least go down swinging. If Milliardo was correct, which the fucker had to be, he'd be outclassed by his opponent and he'd been weakened by his brief incarceration and his chances were meant to be slim. The only thing that he regretted as he finished wrapping up his left wrist, was not seeing Heero again - though he guessed that would've caused him fucking pain. He'd not been touched by him since the bathroom stall and those words and it ached that they'd never get chance to sort this shit. In hindsight, they'd been fucked from the beginning - Heero's leap from the hospital building as some kinda prophetic thing that this was where their relationship would end up, crashing and burning to the ground. Parachute opened too damned late. Duo could hear the sounds from the other side of the door and thought about trying to pump himself up like he had when he'd given a shit about this undercover. Maybe even stretch or something but it felt like a damn execution and it was difficult to do more than just wait for another set of hands to drag him towards the fucking cage. They came, a few guys he knew that looked at him with something that wasn't quite so damn harsh but still they did what Kerrigan fucking said and they were walking behind him, hands firmly on his arms as they walked the short distance from the locker room to the cage. Blue eyes took in the amphitheatre like he had thousands of fucking times - the crowd was full of the rich and powerful, suits and fancy assed designer pressed chino's and shit like that and it was more full than it had been at the first death fight he'd observed. He saw familiar faces and sought out Milliardo - looking for the prick that's own fucking master plan had led to this and he didn't see him as he bowed his head and climbed into the opening to the cage, feeling the mat underneath his bare feet for the first time in fucking forever. Kerrigan was announcing - playing up for the fucking crowd and he heard his introduction. "Tonight - returning to the ring is the Demon. Some of you may know him by his other name - Duo Maxwell or Gundam pilot 02." Duo looked up, tried to glare at Kerrigan through the cage as those words created a murmur among the men assembled. He saw a few talk to each other, some doubting Kerrigan and others taking his word as damn law. Those who doubted that Duo could have ever been a Gundam pilot, he could understand - he hardly looked that fucking impressive but there were some ripples of recognition - those who'd seen his image during the wars - those who'd maybe seen those vidfeeds of his capture at fifteen or were in OZ and had access to some of that intelligence. Whatever. It didn't matter as they were gonna bet on his life whatever happened. He didn't play up for their amusement - was not going to be a puppet and entertainment for some fucked up rich dudes - all he did was stalk around the cage, memorising the dimensions and thinking about how he could stand any chance. He ran his fingers over the edge of the mesh as he walked, finding it somewhat ironic or something. He'd spent his life running and hiding and now he was damn trapped. Caged. Helpless. It was then he finally saw Milliardo, stood at the side, his face betraying nothing - none of his plans, none of his lies and none of his damn need to be involved in this cesspool of humanity. Their eyes locked and for a second, he maybe saw a hint of that remorse that he'd hinted at in the cell. That maybe he genuinely didn't want things to end like this. Maybe he was sorry - somewhere in that fucked psyche, maybe he didn't want to watch Duo die but fuck, it wasn't enough. There was no saying sorry, there was no remorse for what he'd done and it made him want to make a stupid ass move - run from the cage and wrap his hands around that throat and punch him until he breathed blood. Yet, he knew, making any move now would result in immediate death. Least in the cage he'd die fighting. Die on his fucking feet. Die like he always intended. In the glory of the fight. It seemed that they'd done enough of his fucking introduction and he averted his eyes from Milliardo's cold blue to see his opponent being dragged just as reluctantly. It seemed like the world had turned into water or something, that it wasn't clear, even as he was damn watching as Heero was stepping into the cage, that he could hear the vague announcement but it was as though he was drowning, everything fucking distorted. He heard the name, the stupid fucking nickname the "Iron Fist" - the murmur of interest as Kerrigan revealed his identity as Heero Yuy - Gundam pilot 01 - but it was all so unbelievably far away despite Kerrigan only being on the other side of the cage, despite the fact that the announcement went over the PA system and the crowd only made a few noises of interest. So maybe Milliardo had remorse for this. That he knew their relationship and he fucking knew that they were each other's weakness and this was what he was going to let happen. He didn't look at Heero at first, couldn't do it, as this was not supposed to happen like this. Heero wasn't supposed to be in the cage with him - Heero was supposed to get off the colony with or without him - he was supposed to live and stand beside Relena and if Duo died on this shit stall then it didn't fucking matter. Yeah, they'd had a good run - never expected to fall in love, never wanted to, not from that first moments in the school and those hurried attempts at intimacy on Peacemillion, but shit it was never meant to be forever but then it was never meant to end like this. His eyes eventually raked up Heero's body, seeing scabbing across his abdomen large and livid and recent and felt the bile rise up in his throat and he thought like he should - how he'd been taught. That it was a weakness. That Heero had a weakness - a newly healed wound that he should hit out at and cause a fuck ton of pain. But like hell he could do it as his eyes finally met those stormy blues and saw the expression on Heero's face. There was none of the soldierly calm, no mask, no bullshit - no, to the outsider, to those spectators, they'd see shit but Duo did. Saw the confusion, the hint of anger, the pain and other emotions that flit across his face briefly. He wanted to communicate something - that Heero should try and win the damn fight, that Duo couldn't do that - that Heero needed to be better, stronger for the both of them - that it was better that one of them survived this place - that one of them returned to earth and normality and had a life. And it had to be Heero. It always had to be - that he was the one who fucking saved the world and the Princess - Duo'd just done his part, killed his thousands and buried that guilt. He wasn't damn necessary and Heero's life was worth more. Always had been. The announcements had ended and there were a few moments of calm - bets being taken and the men getting drinks and it all made his stomach sink as they looked at each other across the cage. It was wasn't like the other times they stood looking at each other like this - not like the gun Duo had pointed at Heero on the docks, not like when Wing's buster rifle was pointed at Deathscythe and he was thinking he was going to end up dead at the hands of that asshole only to find the suit behind him burst into flames, not like Barge when Heero's gun wavered as there was something there... It wasn't like those times. It was a million times fucking worse as they weren't fifteen and this wasn't a war and shit, they were not meant to be in a kill or be killed situation. Not with each other. They'd been through too much, Duo had fought too much to bring Heero back to him, fought his damn feelings too many times and now they had admitted that they loved each other... it made it all seem like a knife to the gut. The twisted thoughts that ran through Duo's head were halted as he heard the sound of the buzzer and the amphitheatre became silent in anticipation. He looked up to the clock to see the red numbers had started the countdown of the first round and he met Heero's eye and knew they had no damn choice. It was time to fight.
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