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"The Darkest Reflection"Written By: Impish Rating: strong R Pairings: main 1+2+1, background 2+3, OFC+5 and
4+3 Category: Duo POV with angst, action, drama and
politics. Warnings: creepiness, more graphic images and
gore Summery: The earth sphere has moved on into an
age of peace, but Duo is fighting battles of his own. He has reluctantly
joined the Preventers, and is surprised to see Heero sign up as well.
With an assassin on the loose and an increase in suspicious activity,
he’s beginning to realize the fine line between genius and insanity,
and how easily it can be erased. Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing. Surprise!
And none of the songs or titles belong to me, either. Notes: I’ve chosen the songs (which double as chapter titles) very carefully, so reading the lyrics at the end of the chapters will probably enhance your reading experience. The lyrics are usually not going to be complete, so feel free to look up the full versions on your own. Comments and criticism are greatly appreciated. “The images of death are the true and proper
mirror by which one must correct the deformities of sin and embellish
the soul.”
CHAPTER 1: Sunrise, Sunset “Finished, it's finished, nearly finished, it must be nearly finished. Grain upon grain, one by one, and one day, suddenly, there's a heap, a little heap, the impossible heap.” -Samuel Beckett, Endgame
One of the things that make a sunset so damn special for people is that you can only see it like it is in real life, with your own eyes. No poet can tell you exactly how beautiful it was, and a sunset just doesn’t turn out the same way in a painting, or even a photograph. Sure, an artist can make a striking picture of a sunset, whether the medium be words or a paintbrush, but they still can’t touch the true beauty of the real thing. Maybe it’s because the true power of a sunset isn’t just in the colors in the sky, but in the ending of a day, of a moment, of an era. Maybe it’s because people know that the sun will rise again the next day. Rise, on a new day, a new moment. A new era. Whatever it is about sunsets, it got me, too. Because the thing I remember most about the day after the war ended, after all the peace negotiations, speeches, and celebrations, was how red the light was that spilled across the sky as the sun set. So the war was over, for the second and what looked
to be the final time. If it were a fairy tale, the prince and princess
would have kissed, ridden off into the aforementioned sunset, and
lived Happily Ever After. Thing was, it wasn’t a fairy tale,
and there wasn’t a prince, and we had a long way to go before For saviors of the earth sphere and dirty terrorists, and whatever else we were being called, we were rather predictable in what we ended up doing, I think. At least at first. Quatre returned to his familial obligations with Winner Corp., but used the outfit to launch a huge program dedicated to rebuilding the colonies on a massive scale. After a brief disappearance, Heero took over the training of both Relena’s personal body guard staff as well as the President’s. Wufei, of course, dedicated his life to the Preventers. It was a brilliant political move on Sally and Une’s part, really. Treize’s right hand leading an organization dedicated to the protection of peace where the top officers represented former Oz, Alliance, White Fang, plus one Gundam Pilot? It was the best PR you could get. I didn’t want to do it, I really didn’t. Preventers seemed too institutional, too police-like. Where I grew up, anything related to an “organization,” “alliance,” or “law enforcement” was just not a good thing. And if you know me at all, you know I absolutely despise any kind of system, especially the kind where other people tell me not just what to do but also how to do it. The kind with rules and regulations. But when Trowa asked me to join with him, I couldn’t refuse. We didn’t want to be set apart from the other rookies,
so we underwent the training course and began at the bottom of the
ladder. That ceremonious effort The rumors in Preventers HQ ran rampant. No one could
figure out what could have possibly happened for Trowa to leave the
force or me to be reassigned as a Team Agent so abruptly, but they
sure as hell made up enough stories to make up for it. Another year
spent itself, and I passed up the restoration of my And I mean that in the nicest possible way. It had been one of those nights. The kind where I couldn’t get to sleep for hours, and when I finally did, I woke at brief intervals. I gave up on trying to get rest at about six (mind you, I’d only gotten to sleep at about four), pulling on a pair of jeans that were a mite bit too long and a white button-down shirt, and went up to the roof of my apartment building with a cup of coffee to watch the sun rise. In the usual spirit of autumn, it was chilly, but I ignored the cold and slipped quietly to the edge of the roof, the stretch of my shadow staining the surface as I walked. The city streets were oddly quiet, even for the hour, I noted, pulling myself up on the iron railing slowly, as not to spill my coffee. I balanced easily on the east railing, perched barefoot over the city with my mug steaming in my hands. I watched the sun begin to rise over the cityscape, and in that moment, I had a very odd feeling that somehow, something was changing. For better or for worse, I couldn’t tell. The blush of the sun spilled over the buildings, reflecting in the mirrored sides of the buildings. To change… I pursed my lips at the thought. Who knew what that meant. Having finished my coffee, I turned away from the new light and hopped down from the rail. If I left now, I would have time to walk to work instead of driving. I glanced back at the east once more before going inside and leaving the sun to rise by itself. I got to HQ early, waving cheerily at the front receptionist,
who people tended to call Lisa, even though her name was Alice, as
well as the small army of security guards. And when I say security
guards, I don’t mean rent-a-cops. I mean Lucretzia Noin-trained
low-level agents. Instead of the briefcase most I swiped my I.D. and got in the elevator where I joined a fellow agent, who for the moment did not take notice that she was being joined. Elise Linwood was tall and skinny in a high-fashion-model-type way you wouldn’t expect to see in the elevator of Preventers’s HQ. She had large, china blue eyes, pretty bone structure, and a stylishly chic and practically cut cap of black hair, and when she spoke, she had a cultured voice that carried a smart British accent from her childhood in London. The highly educated daughter of a Professor of Criminology had become an agent for the Preventers at twenty-one, and had now been here for about a year and a half. If you asked me, I would say she had an obsessive tendency to over-achieve that would put most surgical interns to shame. Her partner was Agent Luke Miller, who looked like a young, blonde George Clooney. Agent Miller, quite coincidently, hated my guts. Miller hated me because I was young, male and friends with Elise. Never mind that I was three years her junior, or that I wasn’t even remotely interested in her that way. It was painfully obvious to everyone but Elise that Miller liked her more than an agent likes his partner under normal circumstances. “Hey, Linwood, what’s with the face? Whatever’s eating you must be suffering horribly” I greeted nonchalantly. She gave me a pointed glare and a quirky little wave
with the hand that wasn’t supporting the stack of files she had
been studying. “Good morning to you, too, Duo. Luke and I were
called in late last night on a case. I don’t know how they’ve
managed to keep it out of the press this long, but it will probably
be “Well, shit.” I muttered. Knox was one of the Preventer’s top supporters, and a good personal friend of Une’s. “Any ideas who was behind it?” “Not a fucking clue.” She groused in a distinctly
feminine way. “No groups are claiming responsibility, and there
doesn’t seem to be a hit man’s mark. To tell you the truth,
I’ve never seen a job done like this. It had to have been a close
range kill, but there wasn’t a fingerprint out of place at the
scene. No hairs, “Well, it’s early yet. This isn’t just going to fall into your lap, is it?” I pointed out needlessly. “No, of course not.” She said halfheartedly.
“I just would have expected something to go on by now! Luke thinks
it might have been an inside job, maybe “Hm… maybe, but an accident would have left more clues on the body, at least.” The elevator softly chimed as we reached our floor. Something struck me as familiar as we stepped out. “Hey, can I take a look at that Coroner’s report?” Elise looked at me, an eyebrow raised, but handed it over as we walked down the hall. “Have at it.” she said, probably wondering what I could have possibly discovered from the little she’d told me. I took the offered folder and flipped through quickly, skimming the pages until I found the coroner’s report. It only took me a couple seconds to find what I had been looking for. “Look here, I’ve got your man’s signature.” Elise took the file back, her eyebrows creased in reservation. “What? I don’t see anything.” “That irritation in the eyes wasn’t an effect of the poison, it was the poison.” I told her, pointing at the relevant remark in the report. Elise took the file back with a cautious study. “But… how could you possibly tell the difference…?” Her voice trailed off and she looked up at me, then shook her head, most likely writing it of as “a Duo thing.” “Never mind. Well, it’s definitely discreet… are you sure?” “Positive. It’s the hit man’s mark. He goes by the Sandman." I told her, leaning against the door to the office she shared with Agent Miller. “Mark? It seems so… insignificant. I’ve
never even heard of him.” Elise said slowly, which was certainly
a statement, because she made it her business to “ ‘Cause he’s damn good. No one in law enforcement has any kind of record of him.” I shrugged. “That isn’t even possible. If no one knows who he is, how can he get hired? And how do you know who he is?” She asked. I rolled my eyes. “I came across his work during the war, a couple times.” Not explaining how that would be possible, of course. “I hate to tell you, but this guy is fucking untraceable.
It’s a twisted gift. He is also a psychopath… which is always
a leg up on the law. Whatever you do, “Hey, how do you know it’s a ‘him,’ anyway?” “Well, because if he were a she, he wouldn’t go by Sandman, would he?” I gave her a teasing knock upside the head. “Right. Well, at least we have a direction to go in… sort of.” She smiled ruefully. “Yeah, well, just don’t tell Miller I’m the one who came up with this, k?” I knew full well the guy would take it much more seriously if he thought Elise came up with the idea. “Oh, come on, Luke is not that bad.”
she said, but relinquished when I raised a brow at her. “Oh,
whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “And thanks, Duo!”
She My quest was cut short when I rounded a corner and almost ran dead-on into a senior agent by the name of Hamm Finn. Ok, now here was a guy who really hated me. Luke Miller just disliked me out of misplaced jealousy. Hamm Finn thought I was under qualified, incompetent, and inexperienced. He outranked me, outweighed me, and was a good head and a half taller than me, which I was fairly certain were the reasons for thinking the way he did, for the most part, anyway. And I was pretty sure was still pissed that I passed up the opportunity to team up with his little brother. It didn’t matter that I’d been here almost two years now, that I’d had several commendations and an excellent record, because to some people, I was still a rookie agent, a kid, newbie. Might have something to do with the backpack. They don't know I could kill them at their best without even half-trying.
I wanted to give him a street kid kind of glare, the
kind that marked defiance and an unashamed refusal to be intimidated
by his coldness. Instead, I grinned Harmless, you are completely harmless. I stepped past him, carefully turning my chest just enough to avoid his shoulder. Fucking douchebag. I walked into the conference room and smirked. First one here. No one could steal my seat- the only one where you could sit with your back to the corner and still face both the window and the door. Just as I sat down, plunking my backpack casually beside me, Agents Colette Le Fevre and Marcos Escobar entered with the kind of cheer normal people just don’t possess on a Monday morning. Colette was laughing at something Marcos was saying that ended with the phrase “…I can think of a lot better ways to make money than sprinkles and prostitution.” “I have a feeling I don’t want to know how
that conversation started.” I cut in, drolly, and they turned
to greet me. I twirled a pen lazily, my head tilted “Hey, Duo, you’re here early.” Colette observed in a tone much more suitable to the hour and looked down at her watch. At twenty-five, Colette had been with the Preventers a few months longer than I had. She had strong features, with a sharp nose and alarmingly gold eyes. Her hair was a pale, glossy brown that was usually tucked up in a French twist. And because she smoked like a whore in jail, she was about the same size as Jack Skellington on coke. She and Marcos, who was tall, dark, handsome and a year older than she was, had actually met during the war in her home city, Paris. He was a student from Honduras there studying architecture when he joined a resistance group of skirmishers fighting the Alliance, and later Oz, that Colette happened to be a part of. After the war, they decided to keep fighting together. Another couple months on the job and they would probably get promoted to Special Agents as partners. “I just wanted to beat you here.” I replied impishly, spinning my chair all the way around and propping my legs up on the table with a loud thunk. Colette laughed, and looked as if she were going to reply, when Une’s pony-tailed secretary appeared in the doorway. Sandy was a compact, tanned woman who had the appearance of someone who was supposed to be teaching a gym class somewhere instead of redirecting calls and scheduling meetings. Without actually entering, she leaned inside and called, “Agent Maxwell, the Commander needs to see you in her office before your briefing.” “It wasn’t me I swear!” I mentally winced at my own lameness, putting my hands up in surrender as I stood to follow her. Wondering what the hell Une could possibly have to say
to me that she couldn’t tell us all in the briefing, I swiftly
made my way down the hall. I didn’t want to wait for the elevator
when Une’s office was only a floor above this one, I took the
stairs. I was hoping it wasn’t another pitch for a promotion;
she’d Une stood at her desk before the huge windows in a skirt suit that looked like it had been ironed obsessively, and looked up from some papers as I closed the door behind me. “Agent Maxwell.” She gestured to one of the chairs before her desk, knowing better than command me to sit. I decided not to be obstinate for once and sat down casually. “I heard about your Sandman theory.” I winced visibly, and added a little groan. I guess I couldn’t blame Elise, I had only asked her not to tell Miller. But, Jesus, I only talked to her about ten minutes ago, how the hell did it get to Une so quickly? I was starting to think she was psychic. “Maxwell, it is for cases like this you keep getting
offered promotions. You are an excellent agent with a remarkably wide
range of experience, skill and I shook my head, crossing my arms. “Look, Commander, I get your position, but I think I’m most effective where I am. You know why I can’t work with any-” She stopped me. “I have come up with something that might suit us both better. I have a new Special Agent in need of a partner, and I am absolutely certain you two would make an excellent match.” I began to protest again, but she continued. “I’m
putting him on your next case with you and your unit. I am strongly
recommending that you consider the That was Une’s polite way of saying “You are taking this promotion if I have to shove it up your ass.” “I’ll see you in Brief.” She dismissed. My eyes flared, but I wasted no time arguing with her
further. God only knows how long that would have gone on, and the
only thing ever known to rival my Fuck. I knew things were going to get weird. And that is the freaking last time Elise is getting any help on a case. When I got back to the conference room, the rest of
the unit was there. Colette was laying on her stomach on the table,
speaking to Alfons VanReise, a I went ahead and reclaimed my seat, greeting Alfons and Lewis as I pulled out my chair. Marcos turned from his place next to me. “What’d the Commander want?” he asked. “Apparently she’s not going to take ‘no’ for an answer anymore on the promotion thing.” I scowled. “We get a babysitter on this next case, and then I have to partner with the asshole.” Marcos laughed. “Only you could make a promotion sound like a bad thing, Duo. She say who it was?” I moaned dramatically. “Ugh, no. She didn’t
even freaking tell me who it is who’s going to be sucking my
blood until I get shot when the bastard’s supposed He laughed again at my theatrics. “Well, she has got to think this is a really good match. I mean, why else would she go out of her way to make you work with this guy?” I crossed my arms on the table and stubbornly buried
my face. “I don’t care,” came my muffled but still
distinctively petulant voice. By now, Lewis, who’d Despite my grousing, I was actually a bit curious. Une had agreed with me that none of the others would have been able to work with me given my unique history, so it was particularly intriguing that she thought she had someone who could work out. Not just work out, but… but before I could delve in to a full-blown “Woe is me” performance, the door opened, and Commander Une strode in purposefully, claiming her place at the head of the table. “I’m pleased you are all here, we’re waiting on one more person, as I’m sure Agent Maxwell has informed you.” Colette took that cue to get off the table and sit in an actual chair between Lewis and Alfons. We didn’t have to wait long. Speak of the Devil, I thought, as the door swung open again to reveal my future partner. Holy. Fuck. You have got to be shitting me was all i could process. Heero Fucking Yuy. Heero Yuy was here. I blinked, but he was still there. He held that same magnetic presence, the same intensity, despite the obviously new Preventer uniform he wore now instead of the rumpled tank top combo I was used to. He looked exactly the way I imagined he would have filled out in the two years that I hadn’t seen him. He had been deceptively skinny, light boned and small, but each muscle a band of gundanium. Taller now, his build was similar, just… broader. And ripped. His look was just as wild, like a tiger poised before
a hurricane, totally prepared to take it on, with those incredible
eyes and that face, and looking so hot that I wondered if he had to
use flame retardant on his clothing. I wasn’t surprised by too
much anymore, but here I was, relieved that my jaw hadn’t “Hey, Heero. How’s it going, man?” If he was as surprised as I was, he didn’t show it. But Une had probably warned him, the bastard. “Duo.” He said, staring at me with that intense
gaze for a moment, before taking a seat. His eyes flickered to me
then swept back over the rest of the Une was freaking smiling at me. I wanted to deck her
but wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of letting her know she’d
gotten me. “This is Special Agent Heero Yuy. He will be working
on this case with you. I’ve given Agent Lewis your condensed
file, Agent Yuy, so that the team can be apprised of your… With that, Alfons twisted in his seat to offer Heero his hand, and introduced himself. Heero hesitated a second before shaking it. The others made there introductions quickly, and Marcos leaned over to me and whispered, “Duo, you know this guy?” “Yeah,” I whispered back, making sure my lips were blocked so that Heero couldn’t read them. “Sweepers helped him out, back in the war.” Or rather, tried to, but he refused and then stole my freaking parts. Asshole. And yes, it did occur to me that I was being bitchier
than was called for. But I was pissed at Une for pulling this shit,
and I was trying to convince myself I turned my attention back to Une before she could reprimand us for not paying attention. “This mission will be executed with assistance from local law enforcement. You won’t have to worry about stepping on toes, however, because they requested our assistance.” She was saying. “The majority of it will be up to you. We’re going after Mouvement de Libération in Bergerac, France.” “In Aquitaine?” Colette asked, skeptical. “I thought they were a Seperationist group. Their
ideas aren’t even popular, if I’m remembering correctly.”
Marcos added, tapping his pencil on the table in Une nodded sedately. “Yes, they are a relatively
small group. Not too many are in favor of the colonies separating
from the earth anymore, much less all “Which agents are on which team?” Alfons asked. “Unit A consists of Agents Maxwell and Yuy, who
will be infiltrating, and Agent Le Fevre, who will be standing by.
Unit B is Agents Lewis, Escobar, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at her. As if I couldn’t guess who the pair infiltrating was. Apparently no one else could, because they were all staring back and forth between me and Heero. Une smiled at me again, and I withheld a low growl. We continued to discuss the particulars of the case
before Une released us back into the world. Stuffing the file into
my backpack, I had the distinct Oh, fuck me with a spoon. Striding down the hall towards us was Dr. Hilbert, the
on-staff physician for the Preventers. She was older, with frizzy
orangish hair, and she looked “Maxwell!” She said, loudly. I winced at her strident tone. “What the hell are you thinking?” “Look, Yuy, it’s great to see you again and everything, but I gotta deal with this. You wanna talk later?” Heero looked over his shoulder at the good doctor, then back at me, and nodded. “I’ll be in the break room.” he said shortly, and walked off. I turned and walked back into the conference room, not wanting Dr. Hilbert yelling in the corridor. She followed me, and immediately burst into a tirade. “You are not supposed to be on a case yet! That injury could be critical in the field!” She wagged a finger at me. I stared skeptically at the ridiculous figure she made. “It was a sprained ankle.” Apparently, a sprained ankle was a big deal to physicians
who had never dealt with war injuries. I didn’t have time for
this shit. “That is a insufficient I wondered if she knew when she talked like that her glasses waggled. “…what if your partners…” God, her eyelashes were like rocks, they were so clumped up with mascara. “… don’t want to resort to surgery…” Was that a bird’s nest on the ledge outside the window? “…could make things much worse…” No. Just the reflection of her hair. “…a talk with your superior-“ Say what? “Dr. Hilbert, it’s taken care of. My team
needs someone on stand-by. Just sitting in a van.” There was
no way she would actually check to see who was in She babbled something else at me about taking it easy, then her pager went off and she promptly forgot I was even there. My eyes steely stared after her for a brief moment, then I spun quietly around and strode to the break room without even a rustle of my jacket. Heero was waiting, as promised, with a cup of water and the case file spread out in front of him. I should have known he wasn’t actually taking a break… he just didn’t have an office yet, and there wasn’t room in the team office for an extra person. I paused in the doorway, taking an unconscious light breath before stretching a grin across my face and plopping down across from him. My ankle didn’t even fucking hurt. “So, Heero, long time no see, man.” I began
casually, calculating the mild changes in his appearance since I saw
him last. No new visible scars, nothing He closed the file he’d been looking at, and gave me one of his smiles. You know… the kind that makes you feel like you’ve been thrown up against a wall. “Yes,” His voice had always been deep and smooth, and it rung out in that one word the way it always had in my memories of him. He paused “I don’t know exactly what I wanted to say to you… I just wanted you to know…” His calm expression morphed into something more frustrated. I’d never known him to go into anything, not even a sentence, without knowing what he doing. But then again, I had never known him to worry about hurting anyone’s feelings before, either. I wondered that he was taking the time to speak with me now. It was not in Heero Yuy’s nature to chat idly, even with someone he had almost died with. My smile had dried out with the remnants of his last words. I revived it brilliantly, saying, “Whatever it is, Yuy, I’m sure I got it or I’ll figure it out.” He frowned mildly. “I just want to be able to work
together again like we used to.” He said, sounding like he knew
what to say now. “Well, maybe better, I “You got that right, buddy.” Jeez, when did he learn how to joke? Hell, I was pretty sure he only learned how to speak halfway through the first war. Now he shows up with a whole new bag of tricks. Definitely weird. Before things could get any stranger, Lewis appeared in the doorway, looking as authoritative as usual. “Agents, we have increased activity and a possible tip-off.” He looked down at us gruffly. “We’ve been pushed up. Your train leaves in two hours. Agent Yuy, you’ll need your street clothes.” Heero and I were posing as college students from Salamanca, Spain, as not to alert anyone to the fact that there were Preventers in town. We strolled into the train station, Paseo de la Estación de Ferrocarril, together, looking like typical college students with backpacks and baseball caps. “So, what’s your alias?” I asked, gesturing to his headphones, as if I were asking what he was listening to. “Miguel Angel Morrales.” I guess he could pass for Spanish. In another dimension. “And you?” he asked. “Alexander Damien Dent, exchange student.” I grinned broadly. “A.D.D.?” He raised an eyebrow at me. I always knew that boy was a quick one. “Yeah, you can call me Spaz for short.” “I think I’ll stick to something like Alex.” He told me wryly. The conversation was cut short at the line for security, at which point we began talking about an assignment in my Psych 132 class. All the while, I was mentally running through possible theories as to what happened to Heero Yuy. Maybe time training other people loosened him up. Maybe he went to a finishing school. Maybe someone special had helped him along. For some reason that thought didn’t appeal to me. I studied Heero’s face critically. “You ready for the exam?” I asked when we’d arrived at the platform. He looked back at me with equal intensity. “Of course I am. It’s covering the same material as that class we took in high school.” “Yeah, but that was a while ago.” I said, not watching him as we walked. “Why are you worried?” I could feel the heat of his gaze on my face. At the beginning of the day, you have a sunrise. At the end, a sunset. Sooner or later, you have to figure out what it is that’s filling the empty space. Sunrise, sunset, breathing, living… dying. The rise and fall is a constant that we learn to count on, with everything in between being what’s uncertain. We were all searching for a direction, a purpose, a reason to avoid the one certainty in life: death. “I’m not.” My tone changed flippantly in an instant. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t cutting class, slacker.” Basically, we’re just trying not to die before we find whatever it is we’ve been seeking. “If you say so.” He didn’t believe me, and I wouldn’t have believed me either at that point. But I couldn’t explain the strange feeling the sunrise had brought.
~ Sunrise, sunset. ~ * ~ |
