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"Friends "Written By: Karina
Series: Friends Pairings: 2+6 Ratings: M 15+ [In Australia] Rated in the event of bad language and violence. Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing or the characters. That’s the way it is. Warnings: Not a death fic despite how it starts.
Many thanks to Katie for volunteering to beta Friends.
It was much appreciated. Characters Challenge = Duo, Zechs and Quatre Summary: When Milliardo Peacecraft is abducted
and left to die a solitary death Duo Maxwell decides to take a hand
in the proceedings.
Chapter 24 “How long did it take for you to infiltrate the rebel cell?” “Nineteen months, give or take a day or three. The Alliance Generals were not happy with the time, but when asked if they wanted the leaders, or just the cell taken out to reform again in six months, the Specials were given the time to do the job properly.” “So for more than a year and a half you alternated between being Zechs and Milliardo.” Duo mused. “It must have been difficult some days, to tell who you were supposed to be.” Difficult, Zechs mused, was not quite the word he would use. At first he had thought it an impossible task, to keep Zechs and Milliardo separate, but it was a task he was required to do, and he had owed so many people his best effort. “The mask helped remind me. The persona of Milliardo became the deception, not the boy who wore the mask and walked in the open as though there was nothing different about him. I don’t really understand how it happened, but I felt it was a lie when I played at being the Prince. Zechs was real, Milliardo was not.” Duo watched him, the man staring into the fire, blue eyes with fire reflected in their depths. Not merely the firelight, but a reflection of the fire in the man’s soul. “Milliardo was dead. It was Zechs who struggled with make-up classes, who stayed up half the night to catch up on work his contemporaries had covered days, or weeks, beforehand. It was Zechs who seemed real, who made friends despite having to be careful not to give away his true identity. Milliardo had to remain aloof, separated from everyone except those who knew the truth. He was not real, merely necessary. I suppose it is no wonder I am warped; some days I struggle to determine who I really am.” “Shit, man, you are not the only one who wonders that.” Duo began poking around in the rations. “I thought we might have a bit extra nosh, seeing as we will be out of here tomorrow.” “More would be good.” He watched, not particularly mindful to stir himself to do more than look into the flames and see the past. “I know I am not the only one with problems, Duo. Too many of us are scarred by the war.” “So who do you prefer to be?” “I preferred being Zechs. He could afford to be human. Who I am now is closer to Milliardo, I think.” Duo tilted his head slightly, wondering if he dared as THE question. Did he dare to bring up the subject of the Libra? He was not keen on the idea of arousing the dark Milliardo he had glimpsed and managed to avoid. He much preferred the man seated across from him, the one who was neither Zechs nor Milliardo, but some complex mix of both. Dare he ask the question everyone at some time in the past few years had asked, generally in whispers? “What the hell were you doing on Libra?” As soon as the words were out he wished he could take them back. He had not actually meant to ask, merely think about asking, but his damnable mouth always ran away with itself. He should walk around with a permanent gag; he would find himself in less trouble. He always he put his foot in his mouth after the fact, but the words were out and he could not take them back. All he could do was offer a quick apology. “Sorry. Scratch that, none of my business, and I did not mean to ask. I live in a glass house and I am not going to be throwing stones at anyone else.” For a long moment silence reigned in the pantry and Duo devoted his attention to the meal packs. While his fingers handled the plastic bags his other senses were focused on Zechs, waiting to determine if he needed to act quickly to preserve his life. Marquise might be injured, but Duo was not going to make the mistake of considering him helpless. It was amazing what the human body could do if it felt threatened enough. Marquise had survived too long for Duo to doubt the strength of his survival instinct. It was there, that shadow hovering, growing stronger. The dark persona he had managed to talk around to the friendlier Zechs. Was it Milliardo Peacecraft he sensed? Was this shadowy darkness the Pacifist Prince, scion of generations of Pacifists, pushed beyond the limits of endurance to survive? Whatever was the source persona it was there, hovering, threatening to take possession and return Duo to the edge of survival himself. They were a fine pair, Duo reflected. Dangerous, both capable of so much and deep inside, all they wanted was peace. Peace and the chance to come to terms with what they had done, and what had been done to them. “Sorry man.” The waiting was becoming hard. On edge, waiting for his companion to say something, waiting to learn if it was all going to come apart. If he must hurt the man he had come to rescue. In Zechs’s weakened condition Duo was almost certain he could take the man down. Almost. He was not sure why he kept thinking he might be in trouble if he faced this dark persona of Zechs’s. He could feel the man trying to contain his reaction, trying to gain control. There was no temper, no anger, just that darkness. The same sense that had brought him out to this forsaken cabin in the mountains was now screaming he was in trouble if the man lost control. The surging and ebbing tide of warning as Marquise fought for control was making Duo nauseous. To move though, he was sure, would be a mistake; would be to tip the scales balance against him. He had to be the mouse, hidden, quiet, still, while the cat prowled past. He must not attract the attention of this dangerous, silent shadow. It was stupid, to be afraid of a man who could not even stand up. It was like stretching a rubber band, waiting for it to break. Tighter and tighter, threatening to snap but stretching that little bit extra. Something had to give and he was afraid it would be him, saying something stupid yet again. Better by far to say something constructive, if he had to open his mouth at all, which he did. He just knew he was going to do something stupid in the face of the darkness. He had to be normal, something other than a threat, and before the silence totally got to him, he would say something passive. Nonthreatening. Disarming. “Everyone keeps telling me to shut up, that I drivel on too much. Given how many people tell me that, I guess it must be true, my mouth never knows when to stay shut. I’m doing it again.” He sighed, feeling the band stretch closer to breaking. “Your business, not mine. Now, what do you want for supper? Beef mush with mashed vegetables, or the ever popular star of the menu, the cure all of all cure alls? Yes folks, that’s right. Chicken soup is back on the menu.” Maybe his mouth could do him a favour and swallow him? “”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“” Duo was in trouble. Quatre could not help the betraying tremble in his fingers. He clenched his hands into fists, hiding them beneath the ultra glossy surface of the table. His Board of Directors was stirring, closing folders, chatting amongst themselves and nodding amiably at him. It was just another night to them. The end of another long and difficult day, and they had the chance to go home at last. No, he did not what them to notice his sudden alarm. He had been dealing with deadlines and one crisis after another since arriving at the meeting, and all he wanted to do was go home. For him there was no comfortable presence waiting for him there. Trowa was up the mountain, the same mountain where Duo was now generating fear. The same mountain from which he sensed a brooding and dangerous shadow. Marquise. He did not understand why he could feel Marquise as he did, or why he should feel such a shadowed, deadly darkness and know it was Marquise. He had never met the man beyond a few brief minutes in the aftermath of the Barton incident. He would have been lucky to have exchanged a hundred words with the man, who once had been the enemy and had become an ally. He had not wondered what Zechs was doing since he and Lucrezia Noin had returned from Mars. Perhaps he should have felt some concern for more than Duo’s sanity. What was happening up there? “Can I offer you a ride home, Quatre?” He dragged his attention away from the awareness to smile and shake his head in a friendly fashion, hiding his growing fear. There was something dark and threatening and Trowa was going into it. He should be there, but he was here, miles away, unable to do anything except monitor the emotions of other men. “No thank you, I have one or two more things to do before I will be ready to return home. I am afraid I left a little paperwork which must be finished tonight.” “You are working yourself too hard. You will miss out on the fun of your youth, closeting yourself with a bunch of old men who have nothing better to do that talk business.” The elderly gentleman smiled. “You should give yourself a vacation, and the chance to act your age.” “It has been a long day, one of the longest I can recall in a while. If I can finish the paperwork tonight I might come in a little later tomorrow.” The old man sighed. “The boundless energy of youth. We need to learn to pace ourselves, Young Quatre, else we will not grow old enough to realize the benefits of our labours. Take an old man’s advice and slot yourself in for a vacation and take it. We are only young once.” “I will.” He wanted desperately to be alone, and they were taking forever to leave the boardroom. He wanted to plaster his nose to the wide windows and stare into the darkness, up at the mountain he could not see in hopes of. What was it he hoped to do? //I am helpless. I can’t do anything. What is happening up there?// He was simply too far away. End
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