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"Amanhã "Written By: Painted Smile Disclaimer: Not mine Rating: PG 13 Warnings: Some violence, yaoi, supernatural theme Pairings: 1x2, 3x4 Summary: Sudden storms, disappearances, murders.
Strange creatures and even stranger animals on the streets. Duo knows
something wierds happening, and he knows the other pilots know what
it is. But they won't tell him. Amanhã Chapter 5 A liberdade é a direita ser errada, não a direita fazer erradamente (Freedom is the right to be wrong, not to do wrong) [1] * So here we are. The all-powerful baby has been lost, Trowa and Wufei have been kidnapped, and Heero is with the mysterious Dancy. And what are Quat and I doing? We’re eating biscuits, of course. Who the hell is Dancy? Quat’s as clueless as I am. These are nice biscuits. They’re the ones with the little.... I think I need to get out of the house more. Biscuits. Pathetic. “There’s something strange about this building.” Quatre said, slowly. “Lately it’s been feeling almost.... empowered?” he looked at me, trying to get me to understand. He wasn’t doing such a great job. “It’s almost like there’s a presence.” He mused, more to himself than me. But at least he was talking. He’d been scarily quiet since Trowa’s capture. The front door clicked shut. We glanced at each other, and silently picked up our guns, pointing them into the entrance hall. “It’s me.” Said Heero’s cold voice. He strode into the room, followed by a red-haired girl. My jaw dropped, just like in one of those crappy cartoons. She was gorgeous, stunning. She looked like a supermodel. How many people look like that, without make-up? One. Her. And, I was guessing, this was Dancy. Seeing me, she suddenly smiled, in an almost predatory fashion. “Well,” she drawled “Aren’t you a pretty one?” Ice-blue eyes flashed coldly. I went on my guard. No matter what they look like, I don’t trust people, whose smiles don’t reach their eyes. “Dancy.” Said Heero warningly, “Leave him alone.” Dancy looked at him sharply, then smiled again. “Goodness, Heero, I never picked you for the possessive type. Don’t worry, I won’t steal him.” Quatre stood, a tight smile on his face. “Miss Dancy? I am Quatre Winner. Heero thought you might have information about our friends?” Dancy slipped onto the seat beside mine, moving a lot closer than necessary. “Yes, I may.... nothing comes for free, you know.” Ok, this girl was freaking me out now. She talked like Relena, looked like a goddess, and acted like a whore. “What do you want?” asked Heero brusquely. She stretched slowly, hands above her head, and body arching. I had a feeling this little display was for our benefit. “Hmm....” she looked consideringly at Heero, Quatre, then at me. “What’s on offer?” We looked at each other. “The location of the Ligue’s headquarters in this city.” Heero offered. Suddenly, she was paying attention. “That’s not worth anything. If you were to couple it with something, however, I might consider.” She was bluffing. She wanted the information, badly. Quatre shook his head. “That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.” She scowled prettily. Then turned the full force of her looks on me. “Come on sweetie, please? For me?” she asked huskily. Whoah, she was hot. But guess what honey? Heero’s hotter. I shook my head slowly. Nope. She read the finality in my features. “Damn.” Muttered Dancy softly. She sighed noisily. “Alright then. Where is it?” “Tell us what you know first.” Heero replied. “Okay, okay.... red ribbons on their wrists? Unusual guns?” At our nods, she continued. “That’d be the Baiser de la mort. They’re the most powerful vampire clan in the country. Their name means Kiss of Death.” I cracked up. I couldn’t help it. Kiss of Death? What sort of a name is that? Which B-grade movie did these guys come from, anyway? Bloodsucker Returns? Everyone stared at me for a moment. “Ignore him.” Heero said finally. “Where are they?” “Uh.... Tranton Road, Southside. The big black, clichéd house. Looks like a haunted mansion.” At this, a fresh wave of laughter swamped me. “I’d best be going now.” Dancy flashed her predator smile, then leant over to whisper in my ear, “Just in case you miss me, you can always find me by asking the witches.” Heero was directing his famous Death Glare at her back. I was surprised it was still there, and not a smoking hole. * I was lying facedown on my bed, when I heard the argument. Heero and Quatre, both sounding mad as hell. “He cannot come!” yelled Heero. “We can’t go in with just the two of us either!” Quatre matched his furious tone. “Quatre....” Heero lowered his voice, until I could barely hear it. As I was in the next room, that wasn’t saying much. “He’s only human. He has a Devorn Band, but it’ll be no good against vampires. They’re strong enough to snap his spine like a matchstick. He’ll die if he goes.” “Duo can handle himself, you know that, Heero. He doesn’t rely on strength to fight, he relies on speed and cunning. He’ll get through.” Their voices dropped lower, until I could no longer hear them. I turned to stare at the ceiling. Vampires were that strong hey? No wonder Heero was worried.... about me. Heero worried about me! I smiled. There’s my warm’n’fuzzy for the day. Rolling on my side, I reached under the bed, and removed, and loaded my silver gun. For the first time, I noticed a name, engraved on the side of the weapon. No, not a name. A word. And another, on the other side of the gun. Freedom, and reality. What is freedom? I read a quote somewhere; freedom is the right to be wrong, not to do wrong. But that doesn’t quite fit. Freedom, as I see it, it the right to believe whatever you want, say whatever you want, be whatever you want. But what about the people, who want others to serve them, respect them, fear them? If they achieve freedom, they will rob it from others. And that’s not fair. It’s called reality. It’s a double-edged sword, just like this gun. The gun can help me achieve my goals, but only by harming or intimidating others. And, I guess, it’s the same for Specials. Their power is like a gun, inside their heads. It can help achieve the greater good, but only by doing wrong. If the world was told about them, then they would be hunted down, and killed. Because people would fear the power, and wish to eliminate it. They would see only the power, and the danger. Never the person they were murdering. But what about vampires, and werewolves? The ones, whose powers were not inside their heads, but inside their bodies. The ones that kill humans, deliberately. They would be hunted, even more so than the others. But is it their fault? They too, have to eat. I shifted uneasily. I didn’t like the direction my thoughts were taking me. It’s hard to kill the enemy, when you start thinking about them as people, and not just obstructions to be eliminated. I was still holding the gun, turning it slowly in my hands. It really was an odd gun. It was a lot smaller than most, for a start. The trigger was made of an odd alloy, copper and something else. Working for the sweepers, I learnt a lot about metal. The butt of the gun was hardwood, covered with swirling patterns, and runes. A hand, taking the gun from my grasp, broke my reverie. Heero examined the gun closely, peering at the runes. A rare smile broke over his face. “You stole this from the Ligue’s headquarters?” he guessed. I nodded, adding, “I took all their silver bullets too.” “Good. These runes are for protection. They will help against the vampires. But,” here he turned to look at me, and I have never seen him more serious, “Do not take risks, Duo. This is serious. We’re outnumbered. Even if we weren’t, we’d still be doomed to lose in an all-out fight. So we have to be cautious.” I know, I know. * When Dancy said it looked like a haunted mansion, she wasn’t kidding. It reminded me of that house Casper the Friendly Ghost lived in. We were lying flat on our stomachs, on a hill, facing the house, taking turns with the binoculars. In the last five minutes, two cars, three motorbikes and a truck had arrived. None had left. And I doubted very much that it was for a birthday party. Something grabbed my ankle. I spun, to face my attacker. Or not. How the hell does Heero move without making noise? We skirted the playground at the base of the hill, walking calmly to the shops. From there, Heero went into mission-mode. No talking. No detours, except for tactical purposes. No stopping, unless it aided the mission. No breathing, unless it was for the good of the mission. As we got closer to the house, I could see it was in considerably better condition than Casper’s. The windows were clean, the garden was ordered, the lawn was leaf-free. Neat freaks. We stopped for a moment, waiting under the cover of the neighbours wild, overgrown jungle. The plan was to go in, one by one, so if one was caught, the others could keep going. Quat went first, dropping silently over the fence, and slipping through the fly-wire back door. We were to wait three minutes, then Heero had to follow. Forty seconds were left, when Heero suddenly turned to face me. “Duo....I.... umm....” I stared in shock. Did the Perfectly Eloquent Perfect Soldier just say _umm_? I stopped thinking about anything a second later, when he kissed me. Not an open mouthed, need-you-now kind of kiss. More nervous, hesitant. He drew back way too soon for me. He was looking at me carefully, trying to see if I was disgusted, and hated his guts. Fat chance. I gave him an award-winning, shining Maxwell smile. And you know what? For the first time in years, it was for real. He smiled back, then turned without a word, and vaulted lightly over the fence, and into the shelter of the bushy fir-tree beyond. Maybe, kissing me right then wasn’t the best thing he could’ve done. Not only was I now going to have to deal with the usual adrenalin rush, I was going to feel invincible and insanely happy. Who wouldn’t? The Perfect Soldier kissed me. I could feel a big, silly grin creeping over my face. Just as my time ran out. Time to meet the real Bat-men. And women, this being the age of equality.
It looked just like any other room. White walls, tiled floor. A washing machine and a cupboard. This looked like their laundry. I checked my werewolf gun was secure and loaded, then peered cautiously out into the hall. Suddenly, I was sincerely wishing for garlic. My cross would have to do. There was no doubt this hall belonged to a vampire, or at the very least a homicidal maniac. The whole thing was painted a dusty red/brown. Exactly the shade of dried blood. Placed randomly along the hallway, were very.... kinky, macabre ornaments. Here’s an example. The closest one to me was a naked male vampire, kissing a skeleton, complete with tongue. Lovely. Remind me to avoid their decorator. Slinking down the hallway, I kept to the shadows as much as I could. It was a very large, dingy corridor, and the whole place smelled sort of musty. Like lettuce that’s been left too long in the sun. Like blood soaked fabric. That was _not_ an image I needed. A strangled yell drifted down the stairs ahead of me. They creaked as they took the weight of a matronly woman, bustling down the stairs. She was carrying Quatre by the neck. She knew what she was doing. She was holding his pressure points, making his body limp. But he was still alive. And he saw me. He looked pointedly at me, then up the stairs, then at me again. He repeated this several times, before the woman passed me. Up we go, then. But it was not as simple as that. The stairs were an old, creaky, Victorian style affair. I knew to keep to the edges, where the stairs would be strongest, and least likely to creak. Definitely not a fool-proof method. Halfway up the stairs, I paused, hearing voices. “But _then_ Mina said I couldn’t! Can you imagine? She’s only a servant after all, and a human as well. What right has she, to tell me what I may and mayn’t do?” said a haughty voice. A platinum blonde pair turned the corner, a girl and boy. The speaker, the boy, couldn’t have been more than a year or so younger than me [2]. The girl was around eight or nine. “Silly Mina!” exclaimed the girl vehemently. “She should be taught not to rise above her station! She’s lucky she hasn’t been bled yet.” The boy nodded firmly. “Father should dismiss her. He seems to find her.... amusing, however. Mother hates her. Wonder why?” The sarcasm was thick in his voice. Reading between the lines, I could make a pretty good guess at the relationship between their father, and this Mina. The girl froze. This was not good. Oh no. She sniffed. “Vander.... can you smell anything?” The blonde youth sniffed as well. “Yes.” He said shortly. “The disgusting stink of humans. What can you expect, when Mina is allowed to sleep in the house? But,” he paused, inhaling again, “now that you mention it, the smell is much, much stronger than usual. It almost seems.... masculine.”[3] They looked at each other. I caught the significance of that glance. It was time to get out. Now. I started edging away, slowly drawing level with them, then moving higher up the steps. I almost escaped. Almost. Vander must’ve seen some sign of movement. Either that, or he smelt me. Heero could’ve warned me about that, but no. His hand darted out, fastening around my wrist. “It’s a human.” He hissed. This was the first time I’d seen a vampire up close. I just stared. His teeth, while not the ten-inch long fangs of the movies, were a good three inches at least. His eyes were deep, deep blue. The irises were huge, with barely any white, and the pupils were slitted, like a cat’s. He _was_ kind of pale, but that was where the resemblance to the movies ended. He was studying me, just as carefully as I was him. “What are you doing here, little sparrow? This isn’t a place for pretty little birds.” Excuse me, sparrow? Ok, I’m short. And skinny. And yes, if you wanted to piss me off, you could call me delicate. But SPARROW? This kid was even younger than I was! I think. He smirked, seeing my reaction. “Lucinda? Tell Father we’ve found another house-guest.” The girl smiled, delight literally seeping out of her. “May we keep him, Vander?” Keep me? I didn’t like the sound of that. Nu-uh. Vander smiled gently back at her. The effect was somewhat spoiled by his fangs. “We’ll ask Father.” He promised. * Heero wasn’t kidding when he said vampires were strong. It felt like bands of steel were wrapped around my wrists, rather than slender fingers. “You didn’t answer my question, Sparrow. What are you doing here?” Vander asked softly. I was being marched to their Father’s study, flanked by Vander and Lucinda, each holding one of my wrists. “Is he a Special, Vander?” Lucinda asked eagerly. Vander stopped, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at him. “No.” He concluded after a moment. “He’s human. But _what is he doing here?_” I refused to answer. Vander had said ‘another house guest’. That meant they definitely had Quatre. What about Heero? Suddenly, I was jerked to a halt. We were facing a sturdy wooden door, ordinary enough. A plain brass plaque was proudly displayed on the front. Lidérc, Commander Vander smirked, and dragged me through the door. Inside, the lights were dim. The brightest thing in the room was the computer monitor. It’s light vaguely illuminated the sharp features of the man behind the desk, and reflected off his shining white-blonde hair. “Yes, children?” asked a refined voice. “Is this our guest?” The two younger vampires nodded. “He is human, Father. May we keep him? Please?” asked Lucinda hopefully. “Why is he here?” inquired Lidérc. Vander shrugged. “So far, he has not spoken. Though I suspect he is here with the others.” Others. Damn. They had them both. “Well, if he is human, and not threat, then I see no reason why you may not keep him.” The vampire leader smiled benevolently at his offspring, who beamed back. “What is his name?” Vander and Lucinda glanced at each other, and smiled. “Sparrow.” They said, simultaneously. No. Please no. I followed Vander out in a daze. This was definitely worst case scenario. Think, Duo. What would Heero do? Heero would never have gotten himself into this situation in the first place, my ever helpful subconscious replied. Thanks, you’re a huge help. I was lead to a small room, three levels below Lidérc’s office. And left. And the only thoughts in my head were: Shit. Oh holy shit. * [1] Said by John G. Riefenbaker [2] Yes, this charactor was based a tiny bit on Draco Malfoy [3] Wolves can tell the difference between male, and
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