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"Diary of a Protected Witness"Written By: Snowdragonct Disclaimer: Don’t own any part of Gundam
Wing or the characters, more’s the pity. This is for fun...no
profit involved. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: AU , yaoi, swearing (lots), some OOC
(probably), violence, drugs, sex, Pairings: 1X2X1, 3X4, 5XC, (past 2X3X2, 6X2) Summary: Ever wonder what was running through Duo's mind at certain points in"Witness Protection?" Here are snippets of his point of view...a companionfic, that will not rehash the entire plot, but offer a new perspective ofcertain events. A/N: This fits with chapters twenty-one and twenty-two of Witness.
" Diary of a Protected Witness"
Yeah, you could say I’ve hit a new low. That’s for damn sure. I fucked up and I don’t know how to make it right. I don’t even think I can. And things had been going so well. I’d ransacked the pantry and freezer of that lake house to put together a real dinner for the three of us, and I was fuckin’ proud of how it turned out. Zechs would’ve been proud of me, too. He was the one who taught me how to cook. But even before that, he taught me how to actually enjoy food. I mean, growing up on the streets, I’d learned to eat whatever I could get my hands on. Taste wasn’t an issue, except that there are some things that are so fuckin’ unpalatable that your stomach just won’t keep ‘em even if you can manage to choke ‘em down. At the orphanage, of course, we had sensible, nutritious meals. And yeah, I did like the special treats Sister Helen made—the birthday cakes and desserts. But until I met Zechs Merquise I had never tasted lobster, or filet mignon, or caviar (which, by the way, I still don’t like). He made me try things I had no interest in trying, and ended up showing me what I’d missed. And for some reason, when I saw the spice-laden shelves in that kitchen, I had the irresistible urge to treat the two cops who’d pulled my ass out of the fire back at the log cabin, to a special meal. Chang was off in the shower, and Yuy had gone out to scout the area, so I pretty much had the kitchen to myself, and I merrily tackled the job of making dinner. When Yuy got back and started calling for Wufei, I turned to see his face when he came into the kitchen and realized I was the one at the stove. He looked suitably surprised, and then completely amused as he noticed I’d thrown on a ruffled apron. Okay, so it wasn’t the most manly outfit—but it kept spaghetti sauce off my jeans. I sometimes got a little overzealous while cooking, and had a tendency to absently wipe my hands on the front of my pants to get whatever gunk I’d spilled off. And I didn’t feel like dirtying what was probably the last clean pair of jeans I’d brought. Yeah, laundry was next on the list, I supposed. Anyhow, I got Yuy to taste the sauce I’d made, and the look of surprise and pleasure in his eyes made me just glow. It felt so good to see a hint of admiration in those blue eyes, even if it was just for the sauce. And it brought my oh-so-stoic cop out of his shell a bit. He actually came over to the stove and stole another taste of the sauce, obviously planning to flirt. But I beat him to it, grabbing his hand and sucking the sauce-covered finger into my mouth, curling my tongue around it to remind him of a certain knee-melting blow job. Of course, with his usual impeccable timing, Chang interrupted, and Yuy promptly jerked away; but I know I saw desire in his eyes again, and it gave me hope that maybe he’d break down and let me close again. I really wanted to be close. Closer. Like the song, heh, heh… Ah, but back to my story…it all went to Hell so fast after that. Chang had made my foot soak, which helped with the blisters, and Yuy had taken his shower, and even flirted with me again on the stairs as I headed up for mine. Then I found the sound system in the luxurious bathroom, and took a moment to run and get my Nine Inch Nails cd, so I could enjoy the aforementioned song while I showered. Uh, and probably jerked myself off, too…thinking of Yuy’s flirting and his intense eyes and that very sexy smile I almost never got to see. What can I say? I’ve got a normal, healthy libido. Okay, maybe above average. But to get back to the point—! I’d no sooner finished my shower and started drying off, when there was a rap on the door that just about startled me out of my skin. And I opened it to find two very pissed-off cops in the hallway, looking like they were as ready to kill me as Khushrenada’s people. “Who did you call?” I gaped at Yuy, whose grip on my shoulders was actually painful. “Who, dammit?” The light dawned after he shook me hard enough to rattle my brains a little, and I realized that he’d somehow found out about my call to Hilde. But what did that have to do with anything, and why was he so totally pissed about it? “No one who’d have told anyone about it…” And then Chang whipped out his gun and leveled it at me with a completely serious and deadly expression on his face. Something about the whole turnaround in mood just struck me wrong, and I thought back to the things that had led up to my call to Hilde—Chang’s attitude, Zechs’ funeral—how fuckin’ lost and alone I’d felt. Then my own temper flared and I told him to go the fuck ahead. “You want to die?” And I realized that when I’d snuck out of the log cabin, part of me hadn’t really cared. If some assassin had tracked me down and put a bullet in my head, it would’ve been a relief at the time. I wouldn’t have been left on this godforsaken rock to mourn my dead lover, and hang out with fuckin’ cops, and dodge killers just for the unique privilege of turning State’s evidence against Treize Khushrenada. I should’ve died a dozen times in my life—so yeah, maybe I had a bit of a death wish. I blew up at Chang, and he and Yuy both blew up at me. And then Yuy told me someone from Sanc called Khushrenada right after I talked to Hilde—that she called—and I felt like someone had stuck a block of ice right in the middle of my chest. Hilde? I thought of all the times I fuckin’ pushed her kid on the swings at the park, and how I’d given her tickets to take him to the circus. Not that I wanted to be the kid’s father figure or anything—but I was always a sucker for children, and I genuinely felt bad for Hilde having to raise one all by herself. And she gave me up to Khushrenada. “I fuckin’ trusted her—.” “You deserve to die, Maxwell. You’re a goddamned idiot.” Yeah, I was. I’d let my guard down yet again—let someone close enough to stab me in the back. And I felt like a complete fool. But the cops wouldn’t let up until I railed at them about how fuckin’ alone I’d felt and how I hadn’t really cared what happened to me. I told them I’d needed to be someplace dark and smoky, where the music and the booze and the sex would drown out the pain for awhile. Of course, Chang started in on Zechs and how he deserved what he got, and that just finished it for me. I couldn’t stand there and hear him talk about the fucking Persian rug, without seeing it all over again…the look on Khushrenada’s face as he pulled the trigger, the splash of blood and gore all over the place, and the way they dumped Zechs onto the floor. I’m surprised I didn’t get sick right then and there—between the knots in my stomach and the near panic attack that reliving the murder brought on. But I made it back to my room, flung myself on the bed, and wished to God that I’d tried to stop Khushrenada. They could’ve buried me along with Zechs, and the world would’ve gone on turning, just like it always did. Yuy stopped by a moment later, checking up on me. No, scratch that; he was checking up on his witness against Khushrenada. His only concern was that I keep breathing long enough to earn him his conviction against the crime lord. I assured him I wasn’t suicidal—that he’d have his precious testimony—that I’d stop fighting him and Chang and cooperate like a good little stoolie. I promised to play it all by their rules. I was so fuckin’ tired—tired of losing people, missing them, running and hiding—living. It was just such a struggle every goddamned day. I had no fight left in me. God, I wished Yuy would just break down and hold me again. It’d felt right in his arms, for the brief time I’d been there. He’d made me feel again…given me incentive to keep dragging my ass through the wilderness. And now that tenuous link was broken by one stupid phone call. He’d never trust me again, and whatever flirting and teasing I’d been able to coax out of him was gone for good. I didn’t even care that there was a faint trace
of worry for me in his blue eyes. It was just about the case, after
all—about the stupid street-trash whore who’d witnessed
a high profile crime. But if that was all Yuy wanted from me—my
testimony—I was at least going to cooperate and give it to him.
I just didn’t have the energy to care any more.
tbc... |
