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"An Inexplicable Thread"Written By: ELLE Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from Gundam
Wing (unfortunately) and they were used without permission, but all
the words are my own. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: AU in modern day, language, extensive
drug use, my poor understanding of the military, CIA, and Yakuza,
likely it'll get pretty smutty at times but I'm not certain how long
it'll take to get there. Pairings: 1x2 Summary: For years now, Duo has been plagued with visions of a mysterious man he is forced to paint. Meanwhile, Heero is returning from undercover field work to a life of nothingness. But they will soon learn they are more entwined then they know... Notes: I'm trying something a little different with the POVs in this. I normally stick to third person POV but only follow one character's thoughts. In this story, some chapters are going to be half Duo's POV and half Heero's POV. Then others, when they're together, are going to be a mixture. We'll see how it works out. I'm a bit nervous about it because I frankly despise mixed POVs as I find them contrived and unrealistic, BUT I can't see any way around it so here goes nothing.
"An Inexplicable Thread"
"What are you looking for?" Hilde asked carefully from her spot on the couch next to him. Duo had drug it over to the windows and was staring out them at the street, one leg propping up his chin with an arm thrown around it, clinging to the cell phone, the other loosely cradling a pipe he'd smoked hours ago. "I don't know," Duo murmured back. "I'll know it when I see it." He couldn't remember when Hilde arrived. He couldn't remember when it was he called her. He checked the cell phone in his hand and noted that it had been almost 24 hours since he'd spoke to Heero's handler. His heart sank into his stomach and he muttered curses under his breath. What were they doing? Heero could be dead by now and they didn't fucking care? Hilde laid a comforting hand on his back, rubbing his shoulders gently. "It's okay. I'm sure they've already found him and they just haven't called you yet. They're probably making arrests right now." Duo dragged his eyes reluctantly away from the street to meet hers and he gave her a weak smile. "Thanks. You're a great friend." He'd told her everything he felt he could, leaving out his drug induced visions and Heero's involvement with the CIA. He was sure she didn't completely understand what was going on, but she didn't pry and he was thankful he didn't have to lie to her. His eyes slid back to the road below and then he saw it. Two black vehicles with tinted windows sitting in the curbside parking across the street. "Fuck, fuck, fuck...!" With a speed that would've impressed him had he thought about it, he dropped his pipe and jumped over the back of the couch. "Duo?!" Hilde called, but he was already out the door, flying down the forty flights of stairs as quickly as possible. He burst threw the doors, running across the street, dodging taxis and pedestrians, his lungs burning but his desperation fueling him forward. When he finally reached the black cars he pounded against the passenger window of the one nearest him. It took a moment but the window rolled down and a Chinese man in a button-up leaned across the seats to look at him with misgiving. "Are you...? Are... You..." he panted, leaning heavily on the car. Smoking that bowl obviously wasn't conducive to the amount of physical exertion he'd just undertook and he was kicking himself for doing it. "Who are you?" the words were cool and gave Duo the same uncomfortable feeling he'd gotten when on the phone with the man he had to be yesterday. "Duo Maxwell," he replied breathlessly and those dark eyes widened in surprise. "What?" he asked dubiously. "Duo Maxwell, you know, Heero's - you're his handler, right?" "Right," the other man answered, seeming uncomfortable with being forced to admit that. Duo pulled at the door handle, but it was locked. "Well, let me in!" "No!" he shot back. "I can't have boyfriends running willy-nilly through investigations." "Well, I'm coming if I have to crawl through the window!" Duo threatened. "I'm the one who put Yuy in this predicament and I'm the one who will get him out," he stated simply, and the window started to roll up. Duo clutched the slowly closing window until there was only a slit left, keeping his fingers from being crushed. He could hear the other man sigh and Duo pushed his eyes against the crack, summoning his best Heero-style glare. "Yeah, maybe, but he's going to be fucked up on all your damned CIA mind game bullshit and I'm not going to leave him to suffer through that alone! So let me into this damned car or I'll draw so much attention to you the whole damned city will know you're here!" He was embarrassed that he was shouting at the other man but he felt panicked and terrified and he didn't want to see him leave. He had to go to Heero. He had to. He was the only person who could understand him. Maybe some fucking shrink with their years and years of education and experience would think they understood, but they weren't alone. Not like Heero was. Not like he was. They probably had a lovely little family to go home to with a white picket fence protecting their heart. They couldn't possibly understand the isolating ghetto surrounding Heero's. The Chinese man said nothing for a moment but to his shock and relief, he heard the car doors unlock and Duo tentatively moved one hand down to test the handle. It popped open and he grinned from ear to ear, throwing himself into the vehicle with satisfaction. The other man muttered something about liabilities under his breath as he relocked the doors and rolled the window up the rest of the way. He felt those black eyes on him, studying him in a way he'd often been studied, pegging him as flamboyant, outlandish, strange. Duo flipped his braid over his shoulder self consciously, twisting the end of it absentmindedly as he tried to settle down. "So, what's the plan?" he asked, side-eyeing the handler. "I'm intrigued Yuy chose a ... man ... like you," he deflected, obviously startled that Heero had chosen a man at all. "Yeah, yeah, there's no accounting for taste," Duo shrugged, finally meeting his gaze again. It had softened a little but it didn't look like his pinched expression got much softer than that. "My name is Chang," he said, but didn't offer him a handshake or anything of that nature so Duo just nodded his head to acknowledge it. It was clear he was lucky to be sitting in that car at all, so he decided to shut up and follow Chang's plan, whatever that was. "When we reach the rendezvous point, I'm going to have you wait in the ambulance," he directed after a moment. "There's nothing you can do to help us and I don't want you in the way. I'll concede that it may be somewhat helpful to have you there in case his mind has been altered, but we don't know exactly what condition he'll been in when we find him, so don't pull any of these kinds of stunts with the medical team. Otherwise, I will have you silenced by any means necessary." The threat sent a shiver down Duo's spine and he nodded vigorously. "Sir?" the driver said, turning to meet Chang's gaze. "They've narrowed his position to sector B4. We're going to head that way now." Chang made a clicking sound with his tongue to indicate his pleasure as the car rolled forward. "Fast. That new tech is good." He scrolled through a handheld electronic device, nodding his head subtly. "They didn't take him far," he assessed. Then that stare was pinned back on Duo. "What do you know of these men?" "N-nothing," Duo stuttered out. "I don't know who they are at all. Heero told me very little about his work for you, and almost nothing about his most recent assignment other than that he was in Japan for four years." Chang hummed and stared at him thoughtfully. "Good. The less you know, the better. It would be best if you didn't return to your apartment for some time. In fact, it would be best if you moved. And if you let us relocate you." "The less I know the better?!" Duo gaped. "You want me to move because I'm being threatened but you don't want me to know by what?" Chang seemed to consider those words thoughtfully. "Maybe I'll change my stance on that, but right now -" Suddenly he stopped and he pressed two fingers to his ear. Duo realized he must have some sort of communication device there that he didn't notice since he'd mostly faced profile and it was on his right side. "Okay." Pause. "Our ETA is three minutes." Pause. "Don't move in until I'm on scene." Pause. "Okay." Duo waited for a long minute and then Chang turned back to him. "I don't have to tell you anything Yuy says in an incapacitated mental state is classified and not to be repeated on penalty of treason, right?" Duo swallowed hard and nodded. This guy did not fuck around. "Do..." he started softly, fear coursing through his veins like wildfire. "Do you really think he'll be that messed up?" Duo felt silly for even asking. He saw the condition Heero was currently in. He hoped it was a bit exaggerated but he knew the truth. By this point, it was probably worse. Chang didn't mince words. "I think it's very likely. Assuming he's still alive." The callous way Chang stated what Duo wouldn't even let himself think made him want to simultaneously punch the other man in the jaw and break down into doleful sobs. "You can't fucking say that!" he wailed instead, horrified at the creepy quality his voice took on with his conflicted emotions. "Look, I can't negate the facts," Chang said. "I would be personally distraught to find Yuy dead. He is a remarkable field operative and a decent human being. But I have to be prepared to face reality and the fact of the matter is he's been held captive by some terrible people for almost a week now. I don't really understand what their motivation would be for keeping him alive." Duo deflated then, feeling exhausted from all the adrenaline that had been pumping through his system until that moment. Chang was right. He had to prepare himself for the worst. But how could you prepare yourself for the possibility that you might find someone you cared so deeply about dead within the next hour? The car stopped and Chang got out, opening Duo's door and dragging him out by his arm. Duo got the impression he wasn't leading him in such a childish fashion for his ego, but merely for efficiency. The double doors to an unmarked ambulance swung open on their approach and Chang was greeted by the two med-techs waiting patiently inside. "This is Duo Maxwell," he explained, letting Duo go and indicating he was to climb up there with them. "He's going to be waiting here with you. He is Yuy's partner and he insisted he be there when Yuy is found." Duo nodded to the two techs and tried to give them a grateful smile before he turned back to face Chang. His face clouded darkly as he stared at Duo. His next words were directed to the techs, but his eyes never left Duo. "If he becomes insistent again, don't hesitate to do whatever it takes to subdue him." The techs assured him they would be able to handle him and Duo was lead to a small seat in the back where he sat, anxiety twisting his stomach in knots. The doors slammed shut as Chang left and he was faced with a cramped space and two curious men staring at him anxiously. "You don't look like any CIA operative I've ever seen," the taller one with golden hair started, a slight country accent distorting his words. "They usually try to be less conspicuous..." "Yeah, how long have you been assigned as Yuy's partner?" the shorter, older one with prematurely graying hair asked skeptically. Duo started to giggle then, realizing they didn't understand the type of 'partner' Chang was referring to. His laughter rose and overrode any rational thought he had left. Tears streamed down his cheeks and his sides ached. He knew the techs must've thought he'd lost his mind but all the stress and anxiety of the past six days washed over him and he couldn't stop. He couldn't wait to tell Heero about this. Heero heard voices but he couldn't understand what they were saying. He felt like he was underwater, everything was muffled and distorted. And it had to be night because when he stared at the sky he could only see the moon, one bright source of light in utter darkness. His whole body hurt, his arms beyond sore from swimming as he floated there, wondering why he hadn't drowned already. It would be so nice to drown... Let this cruel world go... He bordered on unconsciousness for a moment before a memory bubbled up from the back of his brain, reminding him that voices meant pain and he tried to roll, twist, float down and escape them but he couldn't even flinch and his back already rested on the cold, hard ocean floor. He heard several loud bangs and though they sounded familiar to him he couldn't remember what they were. He hadn't heard a noise like that since his time underwater and his previous, land-loving life eluded him so often. He let his tired eyes fall closed, listening to the sea current rushing in his ears. Ahhh but it was soothing to his weary mind and tired body. He wondered how long he'd float there before he washed up on the shore... Maybe never...? He stared at the ocean once, once when he was on the land, waiting for a body to float up, and it never came. He could stay in this dark hole forever? It comforted him and he breathed out a sigh of relief, trying to inhale water to speed up the process of his welcomed death but for some puzzling and unfortunate reason his mouth was dry and full of air. Ugh but it was so dry. Why was it so dry? His tongue and lips were cracked and sore and hurt to move. Maybe the saltwater was corroding him. Maybe, instead of drowning, he'd rust? Of course! It made so much sense now. He couldn't drown or move or do anything but sit on the sea floor because he was made of iron. He wanted to laugh at himself but his abs, lungs, and diaphragm were too leaded. How could he forget something so fundamental about himself? That's why he couldn't feel. That's why he was alone. That's why he lived his land life like he was only watching other people's lives unfold around him while he stood still. He was just a statue, an unliving, unbreathing hunk of metal adorning everyone else's living room. But then an unsettling thought surfaced in his mind. What was he doing down here? Was he outdated? Did no one want him any more? He thought... what? It tickled the back of his brain and he struggled to grasp the elusive thought. Didn't he find a home that appreciated him? An artist who understood his composition? Obviously not. He'd been discarded in the ocean. For some reason he couldn't understand, this made him sad. So sad. He didn't expect iron was supposed to feel anything, but his heart seemed to ache and he pressed his eyes tight against the unfamiliar pain. He soaked in it a moment, begging it to hurt him enough that his mind would shut off and he didn't have to feel it any more... Once again he slid along the edge of unconsciousness until he felt ropes dig into his sides. Was he being excavated?! He felt panic rising within him. He didn't want to leave this place, deal with a world who didn't understand him, abandoned by the only person who had! He wanted to scream at them to stop but no sound came from his iron pipes. The pain of being lifted off the sand was excruciating. He felt rumbling from within him and his mouth fell open but he didn't know if he produced any sound at all. How could they do this to him?! He had found peace down here! Didn't they understand that? Selfish fuckers pulling him out to stick him in some damned museum exhibit. Underwater artifacts. To be gawked at for the rest of his life until he was shut in the coffin of a back room. He felt himself being repositioned on something soft. It surprised him. His head fell to the side and he forced his eyes open but all he could see were waving reeds around him until they dispersed and he began to move again. The voices were louder, right next to him. They were... what? Loud. He couldn't place an emotion but then what did iron know of emotions? Hurried. Yeah. That was something. What were they hurrying for? Suddenly they burst through the surface of the water and Heero gasped in agony, realizing it wasn't night at all. The sun was cruel and astronomically painful to his eyes, which had become accustomed to his watery grave. He slammed them closed against the abuse and he felt his hands tighten a little, already balled into fists. His hands? He could still move his hands? He hadn't been able to do that before... But fuck, they hurt too, all pins and needles and agony. Christ, why hadn't they just let him corrode down there? Then he was submerged in a sweet darkness again. Not quite as deep as the sea but he appreciated it nonetheless. He felt his breathing slacken and he relaxed a little as something soft and soothing stroked his forehead. He tried to lick his lips to speak, to ask for more of that heavenly touch, but he'd forgotten how his mouth had rusted and he tasted that sharp, metallic tang on his tongue, sliding uncomfortably down his throat, when he'd tried. The voices were there still but one was soft and sad and he... it seemed so familiar... Then that touch cradled his jaw so gently and tiny little pats landed all over his forehead like a gentle rain. He wanted to smile, he wanted to cry, he wanted to soak in that spring shower and quench his parched lips in its sweet bounty... But he could only lie there, stone through and through, basking in the feeling that touch brought him. Feeling...? Could he... could he really feel? His last thought before he lost consciousnesses was the desperate question: could those cool and gentle fingers transform him from an iron husk into a real man...? tbc... ~ * ~ |
