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"A Witch's Way to Love "Written By: Keiran Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or its characters... Shame about that. Pairings: 1x2, 3x4, implied wished for 13+2, extremely
minor 6+9 and R+1 Rating: between PG-13 and R Notes: This is a fusion with the movie ‘Witch Way Love’, which means witchcraft, basically. The ideas mentioned here are based on the movie. If you wish to learn about paganism and real modern witches go here <http://www.witchvox.com>. This fic is betaed by Sundaire. >hits the fic
with ‘Sundaire approved’ seal<
" A Witch's Way to Love "
“I will unwitch Solo on my own,” he said firmly. The statement caused everyone, save for Trowa who didn’t understand what it meant, to gasp. “Duo! Have you lost your mind? Unwitching a child on your own will mean your death!” Quatre yelled. Dorothy nodded. “I prefer to die than to bear Treize’s children,” Duo said firmly, shocking his audience into silence. Wufei stood up and walked over to his godson. “You cannot do that. I forbid you,” he said with as much authority as he could muster. “You cannot tell me what I can and cannot do, Wufei. I am an adult,” Duo replied calmly. “Either you help me to perform the ritual, or I will do it alone.” He caught the furious gaze of the Chinese man and held it. Finally Wufei had to relent. “If that is your decision, then be it,” he said softly. Duo smiled gently and touched the man’s face gently. “Thank you, Wufei,” he said softly, accompanied by incredulous cries from the blond twins. “I’ll go to Solo now. Please have everything ready. I want to do it as soon as possible,” he said, walking upstairs. He took a quick shower and changed into a long white ceremonial robe. He was supposed to take Heero’s mind away wearing it. It was only fitting that he would be put into his grave in that garment. Solo, as if sensing what was going to happen, started to mewl softly. Duo walked over and leaned over the crib, picking his baby up. He rocked Solo delicately in his arms before sitting himself down before his desk and picking up writing paper and a pen. The baby soon fell asleep in his arms, taking comfort from the feeling of his father’s arms around his little body. *** The worst of the storm had passed over London already, moving north. Heero was standing over the Tower Bridge, looking at the water below. The rain continued to wet his already soaked clothes, the dark shirt and similar jacket he had on before he and Duo went to that club. Milliardo gazed at the pathetic figure before he walked forth and shielded it with an umbrella. “Let’s go. You’ll only catch a cold here,” he said. There was no reaction from the man. The white-haired man tried again. “Heero, it’s of no use. You can’t have money, brains, looks and luck with love-life, you know. It’s, unfortunately, normal, with that combination, that you found some psycho slut from hell first.” That drew a reaction from Heero, albeit a little different than his manager expected. Milliardo was blinking at the dark-haired man from the ground, rubbing his aching jaw. His umbrella sailed away as he got up slowly. Heero might be a geek at first sight, but he did have a rather mean right hook. Said geeky boxer was looking rather bewildered right now. “I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “I was high for the past few days. I’m almost over it now.” “The fuck you are,” Milliardo muttered, getting up. “You’re over a bridge, that’s over what you are,” he paused and sighed. “Look. I’m fucking up my entire hard work right now, Relena's probably going to belt me a couple when she hears about it, but go and find that kiddo of yours. Get him to stop dealing, or smoking, or whatever he’s doing and well, hit him once or twice for me,” he finished, only to find Heero gone already. “So much for the good advice part,” he said to himself, sighing. “I better go and catch a plane back.” *** The chapel was brightened with ninety-nine white candles and no other light. Three silhouettes, clad in black, stood around an altar upon which a slender figure of a young man laid, his hands spread on the flat stone. Duo seemed to glow white in the flickering candle light, due to the white robe he was wearing. His hair was loose and arranged carefully on the table. The three people, two men and one woman neared the table. Wufei took place by Duo’s head, placing his palms on his godson’s temples gently. “Bring Solo,” he commanded softly. Trowa came forth, holding Duo’s son in his arms, allowing Quatre to take the child from him and place it carefully on the young witch’s chest. The baby settled comfortably, snuggling to his father immediately. Wufei closed his eyes and started muttering softly. Soon his voice was joined by two others, raising the whispers to a soft song that filled the chapel. Duo’s breathing became erratic as the song progressed. He closed his eyes and concentrated. Suddenly the atmosphere changed dramatically. A window was broken, a gust of wind blowing out the candles. Treize Khusherenada appeared in the bay, stepping down and nearing the altar. “I would have expected better behavior from you, little boy,” the man said. “You are so very smart usually,” he said, walking leisurely to the small group. “How very touching,” he added seeing the protective spells the other three tried to cast, but he shook them off like rain. “However, you forgot a tiny little detail.” Duo unexpectedly saw ice-cold eyes right before his own; a finger traced his face finishing on his lips. For once in his life the superior smirk was gone from Treize’s face. “Once a pact is made, it cannot be broken. That means Solo is mine.” The tall man stepped onto the altar and raised the child from Duo’s chest. The young witch tried to rise, but his strength had already left him - he could do nothing more than gasp audibly, while his son was taken away. Soon, even that became impossible - he lost consciousness. The last image that flashed through his mind was of Prussian blue eyes. *** Heero was driving in a manner that would render any passenger unconscious. He needed to get to that castle. He wanted answers; he wanted them from Duo, not some tall, red-headed psycho. He slammed the brakes when the familiar gate appeared before his gaze. He jumped out, detangling himself from the myriad of cables that hung from under the steering wheel. Heero didn’t wait for anyone to check who was trying to get in; he jumped over the gate and ran toward the castle at full speed. It was a beautiful morning, as was custom after a heavy storm. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping - and it was Heero’s birthday. He realized it only after an hour of fruitlessly searching for a cab that’d take him out of London, getting to the nearest car and hot-wiring it instead. He could afford paying for it later. He made it to the door and knocked sharply while looking for a door bell. The door opened immediately. Trowa seemed startled to see him. “I need to talk with Duo, now,” Heero said in a tone that accepted no arguments. The butler looked at the floor sadly, but before he could answer Wufei came to the door. “Duo cannot talk right now.” “I don’t care. I will talk to him. Now,” the man said, pushing past Trowa and entering the house. He was stepping on the stairs when Wufei’s next statement reached his ears. “Duo is in a coma.” Heero’s world lurched. He turned his head around and looked at Wufei disbelievingly. “What did you just say?” “He is dying,” the Chinese man clarified, looking Heero straight in the eyes. The man was down the stairs and at Wufei’s shirt in a flash. “Then don’t just fucking stand here, go wave a magic wand or whatever it is that you do and heal him!” Wufei’s gaze was sorrowful and kind, but steady. “There is nothing we can do right now. Come with me please,” he said when Heero finally let go of his shirt. They walked through the house and outside to sit down on the rocks over the sea. The black-haired man proceeded to tell his companion everything that happened in the castle between midnight and dawn. “…we got him to a hospital then,” he finished. Heero was listening with his head bowed. “Why didn’t you stop that son of a bitch?” Wufei sighed. “We couldn’t. Duo agreed to give him an heir, they had a deal. We cannot break the deal, no magic can help.” Heero pondered the answer for a moment. “Would it help if I blasted his head off?” he growled finally. Wufei smirked. “Would you be able to? You’re just a kid. Normal people your age are at universities, getting a degree.” “I’m studying too! Just because I own a billion dollar company doesn’t mean I don’t want to be educated!” Wufei chuckled. “I didn’t mean that. I meant that you are just a child. You wouldn’t be able to kill a person.” “I’m willing to try,” Heero muttered. “My father was obsessed with security, I’ve had enough training to last me a lifetime.” He paused for a moment. “If I shot him and got Solo out...? I mean, this whole deal thing doesn’t concern me, right?” Wufei stared at him uncomprehending for a moment. Then a hopeful expression made it to his face. “It might work. It just might work,” he said in wonder. The rest of the day was spent between Wufei’s study and the library. “You need to watch out a lot. Some of us train in martial arts; Duo, for example, is keen on kendo. Treize, fortunately, found this too human to bother with, so you have a minor advantage,” Wufei explained. “Almighty Mr. Witch regards physical exercises as something inferior?” “Treize is not a witch, he’s a warlock.” “Then why was Duo calling himself a witch?” “Because he is a witch.” “Thank you, you’ve made everything perfectly clear for me.” Heero fell silent. The Chinese man smirked to himself. “We call Treize a warlock, because he’s a… different kind of witch, you could say.” All day Wufei was piling various pieces of stuff on the table in the middle of the room, Heero haunting his footsteps. “You mean he’s the bad guy,” Heero concluded. “Well, yes, but that’s not why we call him a warlock.” Wufei wondered for a while how to phrase it so that Heero would understand. “It has a lot to do with dying, see. Witches die like normal people, mostly. It’s just they can live for a few centuries even, if they are in a coma, but they do eventually die. Usually we live for one or two hundred years. I, for example, was born in 1880.” Heero blinked when he heard that. “Duo is rather young; he was born in the early seventies. Of course, we age as we please, as you can see.” “Wait,” Heero waved his hand. “Are you trying to tell me that Duo is almost forty years old? He looks twenty!” Wufei shrugged. “Well, you know benefits of being the baby of the clan. He was and always will be a cute little child to us, even though Dorothy and Quatre are only about seventy or so. “That’s what witches do. The warlocks however, have it a little differently. They live as long as us, virtually, but they can expand that time by using other witches.” Heero raised a brow at the statement. “It’s not exactly what you’re thinking. The witches are usually chosen at a very young age, they learn magic, and by the time they’re sixteen the warlock that chose them would merge their soul with the witch's. Usually the two merge into one in equal proportions, but if a warlock is good enough, he can overcome the hosting soul. The process needs to be repeated every hundred or so years, which is what Treize is doing right now. He was, as far as I know, first born some when in the eleventh century. They don’t have to be bad, you see, but frequently are, as you can see here. Treize is bent on having Duo’s child as his next heir - he sort of had an affair with Duo’s mother, but she rejected him, so he tried to take Duo away from her… Fortunately I came along. He could only claim a child before the ritual, after that their power is too stable.” “Was that what he needed me for?” Heero asked quietly. The black-haired man knew he wasn’t speaking of Treize. “Yes. You were supposed to unwitch Solo, so that he would become a human. Right now he is what Treize calls a half-witch.” “You mean his mother was human?” “His ‘mother’ is Duo. His father was human.” “So, Duo is your equivalent of a hermaphrodite,” Heero said, surprised. Wufei smiled sadly. “No. He is a man, always has been.” “Excuse me, while I go sit here and lose my mind,” Heero said lightly. “Don’t say that!” Wufei yelled sharply. The other man blinked. “Duo is dying because he didn’t want you to.” Heero lowered his head. He tried to avoid thinking about what had happened to Duo the whole day, wondering why the hell he was still doing the things he was doing, after being magically seduced and almost brought to insanity. “You are still enchanted,” he heard Wufei explain. He jerked his head up sharply. Wufei smiled apologetically. “We can read minds, remember? But this kind of enchantment isn’t going to be lifted by taking off a tie.” Heero stared wordlessly. “Okay, let’s get on with it,” Wufei said, seeing Dorothy and Quatre enter. “You should go there during the night; you’ll catch some sleep in a moment. Some essential things to remember: never allow Treize to touch your skin. You’ll be susceptible to his suggestions if he does. Avoid any physical contact with him, as long as you can. Don’t accept any offers of food, drinks or picnics. It would be best, if you could trap him somewhere. We’ll give you some crystal dust; a magical being cannot escape a ring made of it. Pentagrams work too, or a circle of fire.” “Can’t we just burn him on a stake?” “No. We aren’t affected by fire that way anymore. The only thing that can kill us is electricity, but there has to be a lot of it for us to die,” Dorothy said with her ever-present smirk. Heero stared long and hard at her eyebrows. Her smirk disappeared momentarily. “I am related to Treize,” she said. “Don’t think too obviously, you should already know we can read your thoughts. Try reciting a multiplication tablet, or computer circuits, or whatever it is that you geek boys do to relax. Treize, our mother and Duo’s father were siblings. He usually keeps calling himself with the ‘new’ name. It avoids confusion.” “Right,” Heero muttered. “Here’s the crystal dust,” Wufei said, handing Heero a leather bag. “It should give you about half an hour before it evaporates, if I remember the air in Treize’s house correctly. Also, these cards,” he picked one up for Heero’s inspection, “are enchanted. A witch or a warlock cannot pass between them; they’d have to find another way. It takes about an hour to find a way around this one - and they don’t fade like the dust does. “You’ll be wearing these gloves,” the man started again, handing Heero a pair of black leather gloves. “They’ll keep you safe from any enchanted objects you may touch. There is not that much we can do, since we are unable to fight Treize ourselves.” “I’ll get Solo out,” Heero replied confidently. “Hopefully. If you do that, come to the hospital immediately. Solo’s powers have been stabilized enough, so that he doesn’t need a godfather anymore - unfortunately the stabilization hasn’t been completed, or else Treize wouldn’t have taken him,” the man remarked finally. “But I thought Duo was trying to unwitch Solo?” Heero asked. “Yes, but he needed to get him stabilized, so to speak. It’s like with a computer in a way - before you unplug it, you need to disconnect it. Duo managed to disconnect, but unplugging… This is possible, but not many witches survive the ‘disconnecting’ if they are dealing with their own children. Their magic is too close.” The preparations took a while. Heero found all the stuff he had left in the castle previously, finding his precious invention and packing it carefully. ‘Just in case he has an alarm system there,’ he thought. After making sure that everything was planned in detail, Heero took a short nap in Solo's room. He couldn't say why, but the atmosphere of the place served to calm his nerves. He woke at sunset, which was virtually invisible due to the heavy clouds obscuring the sky. The dark-haired man ran his fingers through his hair, which in his case meant that his hair was brushed, and stood up. He walked to the desk seeing a picture of Duo there - the man was holding a grinning Solo in his arms. The baby’s violet eyes were sparkling, just like his father’s. Mother’s. Heero smirked softly. Or at least he attempted to smirk, because the expression that came onto his face one could only describe as ‘wistfully tender.’ He put the photo down when something else caught his attention. It was a simple, white envelope, with several sheets of paper inside of it. The man thought about it for a while and opened the letter. He was risking being changed into a toad anyway; it didn’t really matter if it would be done by the good guy or the bad guy. ‘Dear Solo,’ the letter started. ‘I suppose that Wufei, Quatre and Dorothy have already told you all about magic and who (or what) you were as a child. Or just why there is no single modern picture of a lady, save for Dorothy, in the house. Now don’t start burning my photos, okay? ‘I think that after everything that they told and showed, you might be wondering why you can’t do magic, which is directly related to you not having any parents, although hopefully you might have one. Wufei must have explained the deal with godparents to you, so I’m not going to waste time doing it. One of the reasons I wanted to unwitch you was Treize Khusherenada, my uncle, who wanted to have you as a way to prolong his own person. That, obviously, I didn’t want. ‘But, there sort of was another reason. See, a short time ago I did a pretty idiotic thing, kind of like breaking your back by bungee jumping from a twenty-store-high building just for the heck of it. Namely, I fell in love. That is, in itself, a stupid story, so I’m sure Wufei told you that a dozen or so times. The point is, that even though I cannot remember their face or anything else about them (yes, me, the pathetic witch, I don’t even know their gender), I remember what I felt the moment I realized I was in love. It was something I never wanted to end, that sort of weightless happiness that comes over you after eating chocolate you’ve been staring at for hours, just less physical. Trust me to get on the subject of food in a ‘suicide letter.’ ‘Sweetheart, the reason I wanted to take your magical powers away was exactly that: I wanted you to fall in love someday. It may sound corny and stupid, but trust me on this one. You’d want to, even if it means that everyday you’d need to get up and fetch your slippers manually. ‘Then there is this third thing… by the name of Heero Yuy. He was supposed to be your godfather and on the next shipment to a psycho ward. In the end he was neither, although we didn’t exactly part on the best of terms. I, however, am hoping that you’ll get to meet him, someday. ‘Goodbye baby. See you, hopefully, not too soon, Duo Maxwell.’ Heero put the letter down. The last paragraph was a little vague, but so perfectly Duo. Joking, descriptive and accurate, but on what was left out, you could write an essay. He smiled softly. A lightening outside made him look to the left, and for the shortest of moments he was sure there was a mirror on the wall. He was looking into a pair of Prussian blue eyes, which could belong to no one but himself. The sudden light outside disappeared, leaving Heero looking on a portrait, of which nothing but eyes were visible. He approached slowly and touched the worn canvas in wonder. *** Wufei insisted on having Trowa drive them all to the hospital were Duo was staying. ‘We shall be waiting here,’ he said. The whole group marched into the tiny room Duo was settled in, pushing doctors and nurses out. Heero’s eyes didn’t leave the prone figure on the bed since they had entered the room. He looked so fragile in a white hospital gown, with his shining braid of hair laying beside him. There was an IV in his arm and a breathing tube inside his nose. The Chinese man took one good look at Heero’s face and shoed everyone out of the room, leaving the couple alone. “I will bring you Solo back,” Heero whispered. He produced the violet tie from his pocket. “I promise.” He carefully wrapped the silk around Duo’s left wrist. Then he leaned forward and pressed his cheek against the sleeping man’s. This was the position Wufei found them in when he walked in a few minutes later. “Let’s go,” he said softly. The man nodded lightly and let go of Duo’s hand. He followed Wufei to the door of the hospital, Heero bumping into an elderly cop on the way. They were walking to the car when Wufei noticed that Heero was checking over two pieces of black metal. “You *stole* a gun from a police officer?” “Well, I’d need all the help I can get, right?” “And I thought I knew everything about humans,” the man muttered. “I thought you were reading my mind?” Heero put in innocently. Wufei shrugged. “I can see the forming words in you mind. I can see when you’re lying; I can see what you’re feeling. I don’t know the way your mind works. I don’t know what you *know* I know what you *are*.” The dark-haired man glanced ahead speculatively, filling the info away. It might later prove to be of some use. They rode silently, Trowa driving calmly through the horrific conditions the weather was kind enough to supply. The journey seemed never ending, the heavy rain only serving to make it even more unbelievable. “That shiny, grey, new Toyota you drove to us…” Wufei started hesitantly. Heero’s face gave no indication of any emotion. “It was necessary for obtaining the objective.” “Of course. Well, no need to worry about it, I’ve told Trowa to take it to a police station,” Wufei said. “All fingerprints removed.” “Hn.” There was brief silence. “Uh, Wufei?” “Timothy Moore, aged thirty-four, lives in London. I’ve got his address at home,” the man replied smirking. Heero was torn between breathing freely and frowning. “My compliments. I wasn’t able to hear your thoughts. I was guessing the last part,” Wufei finished. Heero breathed. Trowa pulled to a halt. “We can go no further,” Wufei said sourly. “He would be alert if we did. You need to follow this road straight. You can’t miss Treize’s house, it’s way too big.” “It makes a person think. You all live in such *big* houses,” Heero muttered. “You have a shared complex or something?” “I am going to ignore that remark. I suppose Solo would be held somewhere in the southern side of the mansion. The rooms there are much sunnier. Knowing Treize, he’d also be on the top floor, in a tower. The house is usually empty, save for when a big party happens.” Heero nodded, shouldering his backpack. “Good luck, Heero. We will be waiting with Duo.” “Hn.” “Be careful.” “Hn.” With that said Heero turned around and marched, never looking backwards. Wufei and Trowa looked after him for a moment. “Do you think that was a wise idea?” Trowa asked Wufei. “Well, no. But we wouldn’t be able to stop him anyway,” Wufei answered. “You should know it yourself; you’re not a witch either.” Trowa didn’t answer. Heero, meanwhile, walked steadily down the road. He had studied all of the plans Wufei managed to sketch for him, realizing the best chance of getting into the house unnoticed would be through the roof. The only safe way to the roof was to go up a tree. And tree climbing was *not* one of his favorite exercises. Fortunately for him, the trees in question were easy to climb, for a moderately fit person. Heero hoisted himself easily onto the first branch, making sure that the backpack and all its contents on his back were safe, he continued his painstaking rise to the roof. The rain was not helping at all, the bark was slick and the man strongly suspected that the rooftop would be as welcoming as a skating-rink. But there were also good sides to tree-climbing. The tree Heero was fighting to conquer reached with its considerably thick branches almost to a brightly - and warmly - lit room, which he assumed was occupied by the baby. It turned out he was quite right, when he managed to get a peek inside, nearly falling all the way down in the process. Indeed, although the room was decorated rather scarcely, it was obvious that it was supposed to be a child’s room. There was pale blue wallpaper; stuffed toys were lying on the floor. In stark contrast to cute bears and other plushies, a stern woman was reading a bedtime story to the baby in the crib. Heero raised a brow when he saw her. She looked as if she belonged in the principal’s office, or in a nunnery, optionally on a battlefield. Definitely out of a baby’s room. Solo seemed to share Heero’s mind, since he tried as he might to disobey the lady. She tried to put him to sleep, but to no avail. Heero moved from the spot and slowly crawled along the branch to the roof. It was exactly as slippery as he thought. The thought brought a wry grin to his face. ‘At least I can still think reasonably,’ he thought smugly. ‘Take that Milliardo.’ He moved with stealth, reaching the opposite side of the building. He made sure the room below was empty before pushing the - thankfully unlocked - window open and throwing his backpack in. ‘Now, let’s see if those hours in the gym really paid off,’ he thought, taking a deep breath. He grabbed the edge of the roof and swung forward. Somehow he managed to land on the windowsill. Heero stood up and looked around. His eyes glittered maliciously. Computers. The room was filled with computers. And there was an electronic lock on the door. The guy up there really liked him. *** Treize was sitting on a couch in his salon, enjoying a glass of wine. He was mildly irritated, he had to admit that. Getting an heir was one thing, not having Duo… that would be a sore spot for a while. He hated sore spots. Unless someone else had them. “Mr. Khusherenada?” he heard a woman say. “Yes, Lady Une?” he asked without turning around. “The baby doesn’t want to sleep. I don’t know what to do,” the woman said. “You may leave. I will put him to sleep. Thank you, Lady.” Treize dismissed the woman with a flick of his wrist. He finished his wine and got up slowly, heading for the room in the tower. Meanwhile, Heero clicked on the final key, thus ensuring that he would have total control over the electricity in the house. He smirked to himself. The security here would embarrass a five-year old. But he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Once he was sure he had everything transferred into his palm-comp, he walked out of the room, getting into the baby’s room in no time at all. He leaned over the crib. “Hey Solo. Remember me?” The baby gurgled happily, reaching for Heero with his tiny hands. The man obligingly took the baby in his arms, wrapping a - now violet - blanket around him. He pressed the child against his chest. “Now we need to get out,” he whispered. Suddenly Heero heard footsteps outside. “Oh, hell.” He jumped into the next room quickly, getting outside and inching to the computer room over the windowsill. He sneaked inside, tiptoeing to the corridor and moving down the stairs as silently as he could. He wasn’t prepared to meet Treize at the bottom of the stairs. “You caused me many problems, Mr. Yuy. Yet I didn’t dispose of you, because my little nephew asked me not to. I apparently still can’t. Which is pretty unfortunate, but not unexpected.” Heero was nodding thoughtfully thorough Treize’s speech. He was withdrawing slowly, leading the tall man around the room, leaving a trace of invisible dust behind him. A few times he brushed against a wall too. “…so you see that the child belongs to me. I wouldn’t of course mind getting Duo *and* the child, but since things are as they are…” he paused. There was something wrong. Heero brought a strange device to his mouth and whispered a command. Immediately the lights in the house went out. Treize frowned when they shone again. There was a shining circlet around him and no one in sight. He blinked, stupefied. He didn’t see this one coming. “Well, well, well. Not bad for a human.” Heero ran outside. He took a sudden turn when he noticed a garage in which a shiny red sport car stood. ‘It’s worrying,’ he thought, sitting behind the wheel and hot-wiring the vehicle ‘how fast this is becoming a hobby.’ He placed sleeping Solo on the other front seat and buckled the child’s seat belt. They had almost an hour to drive, provided that he didn’t get lost. He set off, the rode wide and welcoming for the most part. Treize was fuming. “Stupid human!” he said, gritting his teeth audibly. Then he grinned. “But he probably forgot about the fire alarm…” with that he flicked a tiny flame into existence, sending it to the ceiling. The tiny sparkle ignited showers across the room, effectively washing the dust away. “Now…” The ginger-haired man tried to follow his own car, but found himself immobilized. “What the hell?” He did a double take and still he couldn’t get out the door. His eyes fell onto a small card stuck to the wall. “Clever Yuy. Really clever.” Moving around the room he noticed that he was trapped inside a pentagram of the magical cards. Sighing he set to work on disabling them. Heero drove, bearing in mind that car accidents were not acceptable right now. He also couldn’t exceed the speed limit if he didn’t want to alert the cops. However, he was still unsure of himself. He got the baby out; Duo didn’t break the deal, so everything should be alright now. He needed to make sure that Solo wouldn’t be needed anymore. The road seemed to fold under his tires, making the way back quick and problem-less. Heero was nearly back to the hospital when suddenly he was forced to hit the brakes because Treize appeared before him on the road. “Oh fuck.” “Careful Mr. Yuy, watch your tongue. You have a child in *my* car.” “Tell me something I don’t know,” the dark-haired man muttered, getting out of the car and pressing the little boy to his chest tightly. “Now, Mr. Yuy. We both know that this child should belong to me.” “Over my dead body,” Heero shot back. Treize sighed. “If you say so…” he said, taking a gun from his pocket and training it on Heero’s head. “Put the boy down.” “Put the gun down first,” the man replied monotonously. “I don’t have time for this,” the warlock said, pressing the trigger. Heero ran around the car as the bullet hit the door, shielding the baby with his body. He set the child down, making sure the seatbelts were secure, before whipping his own gun out and shooting in Treize’s direction. Of course, the inhumanly fast movements of the warlock prevented the shot from hitting its mark, but it bought Heero enough time to race away in the direction of the hospital. Treize looked after the car thoughtfully. “You are not buying yourself much time, Yuy.” In the hospital, a group of doctors were busy trying to keep their long-haired patient alive. Said patient's family was standing in a circle, muttering strange words over a shapeless violet figure, vaguely resembling a human. It looked as if it was formed of a piece of cashmere material. The onyx black eyes opened suddenly, while their owner raised a syringe over it. “Take that, Treize.” Not far from there, Treize doubled over in pain. “I’m going to get you for this Wufei, mark my words,” he said loudly, two furious flames blazing in his eyes. The voodoo doll burned, virtually in Wufei’s grasp. “It was worth a shot,” the black-eyed man said, seeing his companion’s expressions. “We need to meet Heero, he is almost here.” Indeed, the red car was approaching the parking place before the hospital. Heero jumped out, taking the baby with him and raced to the door. However, as he reached it he stopped dead in his tracks. There was Duo! He looked so worn and tired, yet he smiled delicately holding his arms out to his baby. “Hello Heero,” he whispered. “Hello baby,” he said to Solo, who started mewling softly. “Come to me, sweetheart.” Heero smiled and held out the child in front of him, but just as the violet-eyed witch was about to grasp the baby, he pulled it back. “What’s wrong Heero?” Duo asked, bewildered. The dark-haired man didn’t hesitate long, before burying his fist in Duo’s gut. The long-haired man toppled to the floor, holding his stomach. “It seems I didn’t give you enough credit, Mr. Yuy,” Treize’s voice sounded. Duo’s form grew, until finally Treize stood before the man and the child. Heero’s eyes glowed hatefully. “Get lost, Khusherenada,” he managed through clenched teeth. Right then three pairs of feet came thundering downstairs. “Heero!” It was Wufei Dorothy and Trowa. Quatre, being an empath, stayed behind to help the unconscious Duo feel the arrival of his son and his lover. Treize turned his head in annoyance and Heero used the moment to squeeze through the doors into the building. He thrust Solo into Wufei’s waiting arms and turned around to face Treize. “You really are stupid, Mr. Yuy. But let it be so,” the man smirked evilly. “With Solo here Duo will wake up sooner or later,” he added thoughtfully. “And he still has a deal to answer to.” The three people on the stairs stared at them frightened. They couldn’t do anything, being bound by the deal Duo made. Heero didn’t answer Treize, until his eyes fell on the electrodes standing right beside him. He moved his hand, making sure that Treize couldn’t see the movement and flicked them open, setting the power to maximum. Right behind the electrodes was a socket. Heero wondered just why this equipment was standing in the halls, for all to see. Then it hit him. ‘Out of order.’ Heero turned the power switch way past the point of ‘safe.’ “I have to say, you really annoyed me, Mr. Yuy. You and my precious little nephew, with that silly stunt of his,” Treize said, stalking forward slowly. “I shall enjoy watching you die. Would you rather take it outside? If we fight here, someone might get hurt.” “No, I think, I’d rather fight it out *here*,” Heero said rather forcefully, grabbing Treize’s shirt and throwing him to the ground, simultaneously switching the electrodes on and pressing them to the man’s chest. Treize’s eyes widened in surprise, right before an agonizing scream escaped his mouth. Heero watched with horror as the twitching body of the man turned into ash. He couldn’t help feeling sick a little. ‘I killed the bastard,’ he kept repeating to himself. ‘I killed a man.’ But the feeling - although it never disappeared completely - faded very soon. ‘He hurt Duo.’ “Holy fuck,” Wufei said, his jaw dropping open. Dorothy and Trowa looked at him in surprise. Then all three gaped at Heero disbelievingly. “Let’s get this cleaned up. Quickly.” The three (Trowa was holding Solo) quickly collected the ashes and poured them into an empty bottle found nearby. Heero found the fact oddly amusing. Just as they were finishing Quatre appeared on the stairs. He seemed breathless; his eyes were full of fright. “Duo’s dying!” he exclaimed tearfully. For a total of three seconds silence reigned in the hall. Then the group jumped up and raced upstairs, where the young man lay. They slowed down just before the room, only to meet a string of doctors and nurses exiting. “I am sorry,” one of them said. “There was nothing we could do.” Heero’s heart constricted in his chest painfully. Duo was dead? How could that be? He wasn’t supposed to be dead, he saved Solo, Treize was dead… everything was supposed to be alright. “He is not dead yet…” he heard Wufei whisper. “He’s trapped between life and death; you can still call him back.” Heero nodded his head and sat next to Duo. He caressed the delicate face of the witch, leaning forward to plant a gentle kiss on his lips. “Wake up Duo. Please, wake up,” he said as emotionally as he could bring himself to, which, of course, wasn’t much. The words seemed to reach the sleeping man though, not perhaps through the speech, but straight from the heart. Heero took hold of Duo’s hand and brought it to his lips. “Please,” he said and continued silently. ‘Please don’t leave me.’ ‘I won’t.’ Heero looked up sharply, gazing hopefully at Duo’s still face. “Duo?” “’m sl’py,” the man muttered, fluttering his eyes open briefly. Everybody present whooped with joy, as Heero drew the long-haired man into his arms. “You’re back Heero. You came back…” “And I won’t leave again.” With that said, Heero gently pressed their lips together. Quatre ‘awwed’ softly, while Trowa gently set Solo on the bed beside the pair. The two broke their kiss to glance at the baby crawling towards them. “Solo!” Duo exclaimed softly, kissing the baby’s forehead sweetly. “You’re safe.” The dark-haired man put his arms around his family and leaned his head against Duo’s shoulder. He was home. He was never going to leave again. The three witches and Trowa smiled, seeing the smiles on the three’s faces. Everything would be perfect now. Solo gurgled happily and reached for the tie on his daddy’s braid. He giggled to himself as it turned violet. He wound the rope of hair around his tiny wrist and snuggled close to his fathers. He was a very happy baby right then.
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