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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 "
7. There was a moment of hushed silence. It took some time, the fever pitch, the damn excitement of the fight had taken over and the crowd was a pack. But then there was the slow realisation that the kid wasn't moving and then the crowd was lulled into that curiosity that was like watching a car crash or someone dying on the sidewalk. Even the assholes who visited the cage fights had some morality - somewhere in their fucked up psyches - or so it seemed. And then there was a moment of silence as a kid was lying dying in the middle of the mat and the blood was pooling around his head. Duo missed Heero - missed him being dragged away by Colton and another of the fighters but he was there looking at Wade and knowing that it was death. Been around it enough that any action now was useless but there was always that stupid part of him, so fucking stupid, which had that thin sliver of hope that they could do something. They were going to have to move him, head injury and all, out of the cage because Kerrigan wouldn't want a little thing like death to stop the fights - wouldn't want to send the punters home. Once Wade was out, the mat would be disinfected and cleaned, the blood wiped up and the next bout would go ahead like nothing had happened. "Hey, kid," he said, gently, leaning down. There was the slight spark of life. His chest rattled with each breath, foamy blood pooled out of his open lips, a small slit of an open eye. They were not good signs of life but it meant he wasn't quite dead and that was better than nothing. Jim had climbed into the cage, an old-fashioned doctor's bag in his hand that had no use and he was kneeling at the boy's side, blood absorbing into the fabric of his pant leg. "We gotta move 'im," Jim said gruffly, not bothering to get any instruments from his doctor's bag. "He needs the infirmary." Duo bit back a comment about stating the fucking obvious but instead tried to help. The heavies employed by Kerrigan pushed back the crowd as Wade was moved and the gurney from the med room was waiting. It was awkward, Duo holding his upper body, his head against his chest and blood pooling everywhere and dripping, his clothing quickly becoming saturated. There was no elegance in getting him out as Jim held legs and he was out of the cage and deposited on the gurney with as much gentleness as they could manage. The crowd started to stir again, noise returning, obnoxiously loud music put on and it seemed the decision had been made that the night would continue as usual and it didn't matter whether Wade would live through the night or not. Duo looked up to the spot where Kerrigan and Milliardo sat. They hadn't moved and they were watching, Kerrigan holding a glass of scotch loosely in his hand - casual, as though they were talking about the weather or the price of titanium or something totally irrelevant. Kerrigan raised his glass, a quirk of the lips and eyebrows alongside it, and it was tempting for Duo to forget the entire reason he was here. To just go up to the VIP section and fight Kerrigan - to release the violence he'd been dying to unleash. It would be fun to beat the self-satisfied smirk off his face but he had to remember his place - undercover Preventer, not a loose cannon gang member. He turned, braid whipping hard against his back, and followed through the door, his bloody hands pushing them open and leaving crimson marks as Jim pressed Wade past a crowd of waiting fighters in the corridors, curious to see how bad it all damn was. Probably wanted to assess the damage the Iron Fist had done as Heero was still the unknown and they all probably wanted to know how good he was - wanted to measure themselves against him. Duo knew the fighters were talking, knew they'd seen how Heero could kick his ass in the gym and freaking knew that Wade had been doomed from the moment he'd stepped into the cage. Dead man walking. They'd said it. Fuck, they knew. Knew what a man like Heero could do. Knew it just as well as Duo did. Violent alpha male types who assessed threats to territory and Heero had arrived like a shot from a beam cannon and they'd all known he was capable of knocking someone's brains out. There was no damn sympathy for Wade. There was no solidarity among the fighters - yeah, some made arrangements - sparring buddies, fuck buddies, whatever - but they didn't give a shit about each other as in the end any of them could be Wade if Kerrigan chose - if Kerrigan fucking decided to put them into a fight they couldn't win and they ended up bleeding out on a gurney. And Duo looked but no damn Heero. Wondered for a second where the hell he'd have been taken - wondered if Colton was talking to him and knowing no one else had a shot of calming down or getting any sense through his thick skull but him - Heero was nothing if not guarded, stubborn and would shut down with anyone else. Especially after this. His first damn kill in years. The infirmary was nothing like the well-stocked Preventer medical wing. The colony had been abandoned too long ago for there to be recent equipment and what remained was old, rusted and barely working. It had probably not been well equipped at the time. Workers had always been expendable in colony construction. The gurney creaked as it was pushed inside - done too much work in this place - too many broken and bleeding bodies. There was an unfamiliar person in the infirmary - a woman. There were so few women on the colony in general and seeing an unfamiliar one at that made Duo start. People knew Kerrigan had a woman - knew she could be his wife, his daughter or his fucking whore. It was completely unclear and no one damn saw her but people knew and knew that she was not for anyone else as sometimes the overcharged masculine air made the time hell for those women who did live in this stupid place. She could be Kerrigan's mystery woman but fuck, Duo didn't know. Duo helped push the gurney into the centre of the room and then stepped aside. There was nothing he could do. His own field medicine skills were rudimentary at best, amateurish attempts at stitches and the occasional bullet extraction. He'd picked up enough over his years of being beaten and cut and shot at that he could do those things to himself and, if necessary, on Heero but shit, he was out of his league when Wade's blood was seeping out of his head. The woman helped, must've been a nurse or something but there was hesitancy in Jim's movements and it was if the doctor knew the inevitable but was trying to figure out a way to stall calling it. Jim had been a field doctor - explained all the shit he'd seen to Duo, told him that sometimes it was about mercy and Duo could get that. And Wade was slipping, breaths becoming erratic, barely moving the chest and it was all so fucking stupid but Duo couldn't help that damn streak a mile long in him that wanted to save people somewhere deep down. Save some people to make up for the shit that he'd done - make up for the bodies he'd been making all his damn life. Save someone to make up for the dying boy in his arms, the dying woman, the lingering smell of burning bodies and the whole damned war - all the widows and orphans and grieving parents. It fucking seemed like he could never save anyone. Not Wade. None of those other corpses on his conscience. Probably couldn't even save Heero. The moment Jim stepped away was the moment it became obvious he was gone - that there was no chance, there had been none since Heero landed the fatal blow, but there was a finality to stepping aside and to throwing bloody equipment down. Jim nodded to the woman and made a step towards Duo, the older man reaching to touch him but Duo backed off - didn't want to be babied about the death of the kid. He could hear Heero telling him during the war that he cared too much. Making conversation after fucking about whether Heero thought about all the damn people they killed and being told it didn't matter - it was the mission and the mission was what mattered. But shit, he did care. Wade should never have been here. Should never have been in the cage to begin with - not even going into how he sure as hell should have never been in there with Heero. So he was weak - he gave a damn that a kid he'd worked with, a kid he'd tried everything to persuade to get out, and tried to make at least strong enough to hold his own, had died. So sue him. It was always better to feel something. He kicked out at the silvery trashcan. Kicking the trash can did nothing, it just made medical waste - bandages and blood and used syringes fly and he knew he'd been a dick to Jim as Jim was a good guy and didn't need this but he needed to lash out. They had no damn blanket, no sheet, to cover up Wade's body and he was just laid out there, dead, and covered in blood - his head still dripping and crimson liquid flowing to the floor of the infirmary in globular droplets. And the room smelt of blood and sweat and death. He made another angry motion, punching the cold metal of the walls, hard and feeling the bruising force against knuckles and it hurt but it wasn't good enough. Nowhere near good enough and it didn't soothe him at all. And he thought about Heero and about his own doubts and how they'd been damn proven. How he asked him to remember - to think and realise that he didn't have to land that final bone-crushing blow but he had. "Don't kill him," he'd said, almost pleading. Words that were utterly pointless now. Wade was dead and Heero was fuck knows where. Duo had not been so clean after the war, taking the job that he did and getting involved in the dirtiest work the Preventers could give him meant he'd killed a few times since the war. But that had behind the barrel of a gun and not by his own hands. But Heero - Heero had been safely tucked away where he didn't have to kill, where he didn't have to think about all the shit still going on in the world, shit that they had fought so hard to eradicate. He'd been locked away too long - dressed in a monkey suit with an earpiece and following orders to protect the Princess - and Duo didn't need to be fucking Quatre to know that Heero would not take the whole situation well. All those psyche evals, tests, and reports and they'd seen them - hacked into both of their personnel files as some kind of rebellion to see what their superiors thought. And Duo knew Heero shouldn't have been put on this colony in the first place - he knew because even in spite of all that, even if there was no psyche evals, no Relena, no security team - he knew Heero shouldn't have been sent to this fucking colony where he could fucking kill someone because he saw what it did to him. Saw with his own two fucking eyes what no one else had and spent a year on fucking damage control. Maybe he should've told Une - but then, maybe it wouldn't have made one damned bit of difference anyway. His knuckles were red, the force of impact enough to break skin and Jim made a movement towards him - he supposed the doc could do something with the living and nothing for the dead boy on the gurney. "Don't fucking touch me." Jim backed off and removed surgical gloves, righted the trash but didn't immediately pick up the contents spread across the floor and Duo took one more look at Wade. The farm boy. The kid. And knew that now his body would be jettisoned into space with the trash and whatever family he had would not know what happened. That whatever he had been running from - whatever shit he'd done - it wasn't bad enough to end up like this. The door took some of his anger, slamming harshly on its hinges and Duo had no idea where to go or what to do. The sound of the fights echoed down the corridors but he didn't want to see any more - just needed somewhere away from it and he figured that during the fights the gym would be empty - all the fighters ready to fight, or watching each other or being patched up after. The gym looked empty as he entered and from its location the sound of the fights couldn't be heard. But he wasn't alone. It made sense, he supposed, as he approached Heero across the other side of the gym, the punch bag swinging. Duo knew he didn't deal with emotional shit - not that he could say anything, he'd fucking kicked over a medical waste bin like a punk ass kid. His knuckles, red, showed where he'd punched the damn metallic wall and it hadn't made him feel better. Nothing ever really did. For a second, he thought about walking away - they wouldn't achieve shit now. It wouldn't be an emotionally charged beautiful reunion. It would be angry and bitter. But it was a low and cowardly move and fuck if he'd ever been accused of being a coward. It was pretty much the damn worse thing someone could say to him. And he knew Heero would know he was there - it was an instinct and he would never let an enemy creep up on him. Never let Duo creep up on him. Never - even when they weren't in a shit hole of a colony. Heero was too wired, too unable to let go of all that damn training that Duo couldn't walk stealthily behind him and wrap arms around his waist and kiss his neck to surprise him as Heero knew and was waiting for his touch and the skin on skin contact. He never could quite let go of all that damn indoctrination and sometimes, moments, breathless moments when they were looking into each other's eyes and they were really damn looking at each other, that maybe Heero did let it go, but then the moment would be over and it would all lock back into place. Duo walked, his footsteps more exaggerated than usual - echoing, loud against the silence of the gym and the darkness of it, giving warning. It was like approaching a dangerous animal, walking straight towards it and giving it chance to lash out. The bag stopped swinging but Heero didn't turn around, instead, he held it and leaned his forehead against the leather and Duo couldn't see his face. He stopped, leaving distance, not sure, not knowing whether he should approach and not knowing what the hell he was supposed to say. The kid was dead. Fuck all else to say. Moments passed and Duo could make out the outline of Heero's shoulder blades in the low light, the movement of his body as though catching his breath and it took a level of restraint to not reach out. He didn't know his emotional state and they'd not worked together since the damn war and Heero had been contained, cold, indifferent. It was easier then. No emotional shit. They'd been fucking then but it didn't mean anything as they were both dying or so they thought. Now it meant something. Now they were too deep in. "The kid?" Heero's voice was calm, monotone and cold. He'd not moved and Duo couldn't tell anything. He might as well be reading fucking Arabic or hieroglyphics for all he understood Heero's body language and words right now. "Dead." Heero took in the word and then began punching the bag quickly and with a ferocity that suggested his state of mind more than if he'd spoke, cried, screamed or even damn looked at Duo. "Heero, stop." His voice was quiet in the empty, dark space. Like trying to calm an angry beast or something. Gentle - something like Trowa and his lions. "Heero." He continued, his breathing became more ragged and louder in the space and Duo stepped forward, his hand reaching for Heero's arm and instinctively it was thrown back giving a second for Duo's own instincts to kick in so that his elbow didn't meet his nose. The next blow he was not so quick - he blocked but his body jarred from the impact and Duo knew that the adrenalin and anger and emotional confusion was making Heero pretty much unbeatable. Pretty much but not totally unbeatable. Duo swung his leg, making a kick for Heero's knee but there was a hand there and with a sharp twist, his back was on the floor and then Heero was on top of him, hands around his wrists, pinning him down with body weight and faces close. "Why don't you hate me?" Heero asked, harshly, hands tight. "Do you want me to?" "I killed Wade." "You've killed a lotta people." "You asked me not to." He couldn't make out Heero's eyes clearly in the gloom but they seemed to be betraying something - guilt, confusion, something beyond their cool harshness. He wanted Duo to speak - he guessed that he wanted him to say that he hated him and to blame him. But Duo couldn't blame him - he could blame the Preventers who sent someone damn ill-equipped to deal with this shit hole, he could blame the people who had trained a little boy to be a mass killer and he could blame fucking Kerrigan but he just couldn't blame Heero. Don't blame the wild animal let out of the cage - blame the people who let it out if someone gets mauled. Maybe he should take the blame himself. He was the one who had brought Heero back. There were no words he could say to make it better but he knew he should fucking say something. I don't hate you. I want to save you. Maybe even somewhere in there something about how they were totally fucked in whatever this relationship was whether love or something damn like it but right then he had shit. He could only impress one way to Heero how he felt and that he didn't hate him for Wade's death. Duo thrust his hips upwards using the momentary slackening of Heero's wrists and the reaction to the contact between groins to dislodge the hard body on top of him. Using the leverage, he reversed their positions, expecting Heero to continue the roll and be on his back but instead he stilled underneath him, staring up in the dim light. He leant down, his lips meeting Heero's, still and unresponsive to his own and tried to make Heero understand that he wasn't just a creature of violence in the darkness of the gym.
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