Live Without You?

Well here is the next chap. it picks up where Chap. 1 left off.
Hope you enjoy. Please, please review. I love the feed back. Tell me what you think.


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*That was over ten months ago.* Duo thought sadly. *We had some really good time together. We still will once I find him. He’s my best friend, I trust him with my life and my damned soul, not to mention the sex is great!* He thought with a small smile.

Now that Heero was gone the cold steel took its place once more, like it used to be. Only it was under Duo’s pillow now. Just as he could feel himself slowly dying inside, slowly pushing away everything he was in his attempt to find his lover.
*Would I survive a bullet to the head?* He’d asked himself as he held the gun. He fell back against the mattress and put the cold barrel against his temple. He slowly put pressure on the trigger. Blue eyes flashed in his mind’s eye. Only they weren’t laughing like normal they normally did when Duo was around, they were filled with tears. Tears of pain and loss because he wasn’t around. Duo’s heart raged at the thought of his koibito hurt and in his anger he fired a shot into the ceiling almost without meaning to. *If I kill myself, Heero would be sad.* He thought. He let his arm fall against the bed. Then Wufei had kicked in the door. Quatre’s voice played in his head again. ‘Oh, Duo no.’ so full of anguish that Duo was angry with himself for being the cause of it and surprised that Quatre cared for him enough to regret his possible death. So Duo had angrily emptied the rest of the clip into the ceiling. He half feared he’d lost his mind his emotions were in such turmoil.
A part of him had wanted to go out on a normal date with the handsome young man who’d brought him a flower even though the guy didn’t know him. He didn’t trust the guy. Heero and his fellow pilots were the only ones to give him something and not want anything in return. The guy would probably have wanted to have sex with him. And the worst part was, Duo wasn’t sure if he cared or not. *Four months, almost five now.* He thought *is a long time.* He wanted to sleep in someone’s arms again and feel the warmth of another body. He wanted to touch someone and be touched in return. He wanted physical comfort so badly that his soul ached. He didn’t want to feel alone. He didn’t want to have the nightmares anymore. The nightmares of Heero being hurt, the memories of himself being hurt.
A single tear ran its way from the corner of his eye and trickled down his face. He brushed it away furiously and jumped up from his bed. He shed the form fitting black clothes heedlessly and tossed them on the floor. Yanking open the bedside table’s drawer he pulled out a short, sharp military knife. He pressed the blade against his flesh and cut deeply into his upper thigh. Adding another long, horizontal wound next to the eight other scars, one of which was still pink. *Nine. Nine tears I’ve shed and Heero isn’t safe. I have to find him.* Each tear he saw as a betrayal, an emotion experienced when his lover, his best friend, the one that taught him how to truly love, was imprisoned still. He held the knife in his hand still wet with his blood, the computer’s light shining off it. He thought back to earlier in the evening.
*Mark, it’s a nice enough name.* Was his first reaction to the attractive dark haired man. *Your first reaction should have been to shoot Wufei not the ceiling.* He told himself wryly.
~ They only wanted to help you. ~ He scolded himself.
*Then they should help me look for Heero! * He yelled silently.
~ What if I don’t find him? ~ He asked quietly and was still. Duo stood a moment and tried to comprehend a world without Heero. He swallowed passed a suddenly dry throat.
“Then I would die with this war.” He answered softly. “I would die and be glad of it.” He whispered in the darkness. This realization was liberating, didn’t have to live without Heero. He went to the laptop and pulled up the record of the autopsy.

The body of ‘John Doe’, white male, fifteen to seventeen years old was found on a deserted roadside. The body was dehydrated, and had multiple lacerations across the chest and back. The fingernails were missing. Both cheeks were broken. A crushing blow to the skull was listed as the cause of death. All signs indicative of torture and mutilation.
Height: 5’5” Hair: Short, dark brown. Eyes: Blue.
Personal: silver cross on silver chain was corpse’s only possession, with initials ‘D.M.’ carved onto back of cross.

Short, blunt, and to the point. Right there in black and white. The rest of the report described in detail the dissection of the body for the autopsy. Duo knew the cross was his; he’d given it to Heero when they had to leave each other. Duo had been putting off finding a picture for over a month now. And the entire household knew it. He feared that it really would be Heero. *But* He told himself. *If it is fake someone could be trying to draw out Heero’s accomplices.* As possible as that might be, the reality was he didn’t want to face that it could be Heero, but now he realized that he couldn’t run from it any longer. He cleaned the knife off and sat with the laptop. He began to search for a picture of the autopsy with shaking, sweaty hands. There wasn’t one. The pictures were kept only in hard copy form at the coroner’s office.

He slipped into a pair of his black riding pants and his priest’s top. Thrusting his feet into his tattered boots he reloaded the gun, picked another as well, and strapped a holster around his torso. He slipped a couple knives about his person as a last resort and tucked his lock picks into the length of his braid.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(3 months and 7 days after Heero’s capture)

Months of torture, months he wished he could just die. Wings’ body shivered and trembled as he recalled all that had been done to him. His ribs still hurt from where Dirk had kicked him in frustration. He almost didn’t remember anything about who he’d been any more. He knew that the enemy had captured him. He knew that they wanted him to tell them things. He wasn’t entirely sure what his real name was anymore and that bothered him, not knowing who he was. He knew his name wasn’t Wings though. He remembered violet eyes belonging to someone he cared about, but couldn’t remember much else. And what Dirk did to him, he remembered that all too well. His entire world was violet eyes he tried to protect and Dirk hurting him.
But now the torture was at an end. Dirk finally admitted he could get nothing out of the small boy. He became just another prisoner. He was a ‘sex toy’ for the soldiers stationed at the compound. Almost every single day someone came to his cell and dragged him off to be raped and beaten. He couldn’t move most of the time. He never talked anymore. He didn’t really want to eat anymore, even when food was given to him. He never moved, even when the others begged him.

“Quinn,” Wings croaked. “Did I ever talk about someone with violet eyes? I keep having these dreams and in them someone with violet eyes is above me and I feel safe and happy. They say my name but I always wake up before that. I don’t think my name is Wings.” He said softly. It was the longest speech he’d made in over two weeks.

“Girlfriend I bet. You did talk rather fondly about someone with violet eyes, in a rather…physical way. You hoped they were okay but you never said you were going out.” Quinn told him looking surprised at his outburst.

*Girlfriend?* He pondered. Something about that didn’t feel right though. He brought the violet eyes to mind. Focusing on them intently as he did almost everyday, trying to remember something. He could remember them teasing him, he remembered a pair of strong thighs wrapping around his torso, lithe body pressed against his. He could remember the sensations and nothing more. No details. *My girlfriend?* He wondered silently and then gave up with a sigh. It was hopeless. He couldn’t remember anything about the owner of the violet eyes.

The iron door to their windowless cell opened. “Come on my tainted Angel time to go.” A sneering voice called. Wings climbed painfully to his feet and tottered forward. The door slammed shut and the others were left alone.

“They’re going to kill him.” Ryo said sadly.

“They’re going to kill all of us, they already kill Andoff and Trent.” Azol reminded him softly. “But I agree with you. He’ll be the next to go.”

Wings was taken to the ‘play room’ where seven soldiers were already waiting impatiently. He swayed on his feet and one of them yanked him towards the bed. He recoiled in fear as the man touched him. They all laughed at him, their voices already harsh with lust. The soldiers liked him because he didn’t fight anymore. The others fought still once in awhile, but not him. He didn’t even try to stop them. It didn’t matter.
They pushed him roughly onto his hands and knees on the bed. One of them grasped his hips aggressively; his fingers digging cruelly into Wings’ already bruised, pained flesh. He shuddered silently as the man positioned himself at the entrance of his body. He pulled the slim hips backwards sharply and sank into the battered flesh quickly. Without waiting for Wings’ body to adjust he pulled out quickly and thrust in hard again. Wings cried out harshly in pain as the man dry fucked him. Another pulled his head back sharply by his hair and thrust his hard cock into Wings’ mouth.

“If I feel any teeth, you will pay.” He muttered in Wings’ ear. “Understand?”

Wings nodded slowly, trying not to move. Trying to ignore the feel of the man filling his mouth. Two strong hands gripped the sides of Wings’ head as he pulled out and pushed back in repeatedly. Violently banging against the back of his throat as he tried not to gag and puke. The throbbing cock in his mouth muffled his pained moans and cries as the other man fucked him from behind. Wings closed his eyes, trying to forget what was happening to his body. Trying to forget that he was here. Silent tears poured down his face as the soldier raping him climaxed loudly. He pulled out and another quickly replaced him. Wings struggled a moment and then was still. As they knew he would be.

*Please let me die. Please just let me die. * He prayed over and over to a God he didn’t believe in. He wasn’t a religious person before this, it seemed useless and irrational, but he sure as hell wasn’t now. Not after all that had been done to him. Yet he still hoped someone would answer him. He still hoped he would die. He never did.

The man in front of him cam hard. Filling his mouth with hot, bitter liquid.

“Swallow.” He commanded. Wings hesitated and the man punched him in his still broken ribs. “Swallow.” He repeated and Wings did so quickly fighting against his pain. He sobbed as the man pulled out of his mouth and sneered down at him.

"You're a fucking worthless piece of trash. You're so tainted, so bad it makes me sick." the soldier said and punched Wings again.
It was only a matter of time before they killed him and Wings knew it. He welcomed it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(4 months, 3 weeks, and 3 days after Heero’s capture)

After frying the laughingly easy, low-grade security cameras Duo slinked into the office on the upper level of the shabby building where the coroner’s reports were kept. The basement housed the morgue and examination lab. He jimmied the flimsy lock on the file cabinet easily and pulled out the D file. He breezed to the ‘John Doe’ heading. They were in order from most recent to oldest. There had been only one John Doe case since the report he was looking for. He scanned the single page report by penlight even though he already knew it by heart. He felt a ziploc baggy of pictures stapled to the back of the page through his thin gloves. He was trying to put off the moment when he had to look at them as long as possible. He read the report again his vision locking onto the ‘Eyes: blue.’ portion of the page. *Blue? Blue doesn’t even begin to describe the depth of his eyes.* he thought silently to himself. He folded the page back and dumped the pictures onto a desk and something heavy thumped onto the wood. He lowered himself into the chair slowly and pulled the messy stack toward him. A glint caught his eye and he grasped a silver cross in his shaking hand. It was made of intricate filigree the chain was silver serpentine. On the back, at the bevel, were carved the initials DM in flowing script. Duo’s breath caught in his throat. It was his cross all right. Father Maxwell had given it to him as a birthday gift. The first real gift he’d ever had. Duo pushed his emotions down. He knew if he lost it now he’d get caught breaking into the morgue. If he got caught he couldn’t get revenge. He didn’t wonder if he was going to try to get revenge. He just knew withut thinking that it would become his life, his reason for living.

The first picture was a close up of the right hand. The fingers were mangled and dislocated. Most of the nails were torn and had been bleeding. He set it aside breathing heavily. The next showed the back of the torso. It was covered in slashes Duo guessed were caused with a whip or flail. The body was so skinny the ribs showed clearly enough for him to tell at least one of them was broken. He set it aside with shaking hands. The third showed the face. He felt a maniacal laugh bubbling up in his chest as he stared wide-eyed at the photo. He gripped the cross so tightly it hurt and let the laugh boil forth. He didn’t care; he couldn’t laugh forever could he. Although at that moment he felt he could. He hadn’t expected to laugh. Cry, yes. Hysterics, definitely. But laughing? No.
The face was a little long, the cheekbones well defined. The lips were pouty and a bit of dried blood clung to one corner. The eyes were closed; the dark lashes lay starkly against the too pale flesh. And topping it all was a mop of tousled chocolate-brown hair. His insane laughter slowly filtered away into silence. He brushed his thumb over the picture and breathed a single word, barely audible even to his own ears, more a thought than anything else. “Heero.”
There were more pictures, but Duo didn’t care to see them just yet. Maybe he never would be. How do you prepare yourself to see your lover cut open, their organs remover and thrown into biohazard trashcans, their blood removed in preparation for the burning of their body? How do you prepare to see them reduced to a thing?

He drew a shaking breath then fastened the cross’ chain about his neck with trembling hands. He scooped the pictures into the bag and tucked the file under his arm. He dug around a bit more, making sure he didn’t miss anything. He logged onto the office’s computer and erased the files belonging to his ‘John Doe’ and left the building without a backwards glance.
In the dim light of the parking lot he pulled a sharp-ended lock pick from his braid. He jabbed it in between the filigree of his cross. Giving it an expert ‘twist-n-jiggle’ as he called it, he heard the snap of the tracking-bug break inside. He could remove the pieces later.

He piloted the street cycle back to the safe house a few hours before dawn. He entered silently and stowed the file in his duffel bag. The one he never unpacked. It had a passport, I.D., clothes, first-aid, basic necessities, and now the file of Heero’s death and the only pictures of the pilot in existence. He changed into a pair of black pajama bottoms and a black long-sleeved shirt.
He left his room and plopped onto the couch in the living room, curling his legs under him. He grabbed the remote from the coffee table and started flicking through the channels at random, stopping when he came to the History channel’s special of Great Britain, circa 2006 A.D. [1] He stared blankly at the screen as the pictures flashed and the voice of the narrator filled the small room.
*I wonder if the narrator sounded the same in 2006 as he does now.* Duo thought idly. He realized he was shivering violently, but he didn’t really care. He heaved a deep sigh. He still didn’t feel anything. He realized he was probably in shock.

He thought about everything he and Heero had done together, all they’d been through.

Duo was surprised to see the sky lighting outside. He climbed wearily to his feet and went to the kitchen and set the teakettle on the stove to boil. He dug in the fridge and brought out eggs and other toppings for breakfast. It had been too long since he cooked for his friends. He moved about the kitchen without really feeling what he doing. Hoping that by getting ‘back to normal’ he might feel normal, he might be able to move on.

“Raivu nashi otaku.” [2] Duo told himself softly passed the pain in his chest. He cracked the eggs for the omelets into a bowl and poured the boiling water from the kettle over two mugs with teabags in them. He turned on the coffee maker for Trowa.
The omelets were done in no time and he made toast as well. Setting a plate at each of their seats. He looked at Heero’s chair for a long moment, then pulled it away and put it back in front of the living room window where they’d gotten it from to begin with. Now there were just four chairs at the table. Now there were just four pilots.
*I need a shower.* Duo thought and head to the bathroom.

He exited the tiled room just a few minutes later. His hair still moist around his frame as he let it finish air-drying.

“Where’s Wufei?” Quatre asked Trowa in the kitchen. “This is the first meal he hasn’t burnt.” The blond piqued jokingly at the Chinamen’s cooking.
“Hey where’s…” Quatre started to say but stopped short as Duo walked into the room. He walked passed them without looking at them or saying anything and cracked the door to Wufei’s room.

“Wufei, breakfast is ready if you’re up for it.” He stated evenly and turned away. He returned to the kitchen poured himself a glass of orange juice, sat down at the table, and began to eat his food.
Wufei emerged from his room quickly with a worried look on his face. He glanced to Trowa and Quatre to get their silent input. They looked just as bewildered as he did.

“Morning Quatre, Trowa. I made breakfast.” Duo stated his voice deadpan. He sound as though he was sick with a sore throat.

“Um…Duo are you okay?” Quatre asked hesitantly. The other boy’s hair spread around him thickly, lightening as it dried.

“I’m fine.” Duo told them calmly. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a jerk lately.” He stated. He sounded as though he meant it. It was the first emotion he’d shown. The others sat at the table silently. “I didn’t really realize that…I was ignoring you guys. You’re my friends, I shouldn’t have treated you this way.”

“It’s alright Duo we understand. You’re just…” Quatre trailed off his eyes darting to the place where Heero’s chair had been squeezed in as he took Duo’s hand.

“He’s not coming back.” Duo whispered softly, his face and eyes blank. “He’s not coming back.” Duo stated again and laid his head atop his folded arms on the table just sat there, nothing more. “He’s not fucking coming back! That stupid, worthless, (hic) mother-fucking bastard!! That Perfect Fucking Soldier!!!” He screamed his entire body rigid with anger as he hiccupped loudly. “He fucking left me! I told him not to (hic) fucking leave me!! I said ‘We stick together on this okay. This (hic) could go bad.’ But he fucking left me and I fucking let him! I let him go off on his (hic) his own, I let him go and those fucking bastards killed him!! And now…now…” Duo trailed off quietly. “And now he’s (hic) not coming back. (hic).” Strong arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind. He jumped startled and threw them off as he stood. Trowa grabbed his forearm tightly. “Let (hic) let me go!” He demanded wide eyed. Trowa pulled the shorter boy against his chest without a word and wrapped his arms tightly around the other boy’s shoulders. Trowa smelled kind-of earthy and fresh. He was warm too. To Duo it seemed like a long time since he’d been warm and he found himself wanting to stay in Trowa’s arms. Wanting to not be alone anymore. *I want Heero!!!* He shrieked inside. “I said (hic) let go!” Duo demanded again and pulled away, or tried to. Trowa’s grip was like steel. He suddenly pushed backwards violently breaking the grip as he stumbled. “Let go (hic)!” he growled and stalked to his room ignoring the sounds of the others following him. He almost slammed Trowa in the door and the taller boy jumped back quickly, stepping on Wufei’s toes. The onyx-eyes boy snorted as they heard Duo slam the lock on his door home. He slipped a lock pick form behind his ear and knelt before the door. Quatre cocked an eyebrow in surprise as he sank to his knees.
“Duo’s not the only one who hides stuff in his hair.” Wufei said by way of simple explanation. He turned the knob and tried to push the door open. A heavy weight against the other side kept it from opening. “Duo let us in.” Wufei said quietly.

“Leave me alone.” Came the muffled reply.

“We don’t want to leave you alone Duo.” Quatre said and laid a hand against the wood. “Please let us in.” He asked gently. Duo understood him. They wanted him to know they were there for him; they wanted him to open up to them. He slowly opened the door and stood aside to let them in the room. Quatre’s eyes fastened downward, fixing on Duo’s hand, which clutched tightly to the cross around his neck. Duo thought a moment about telling them about he and Heero, but he brushed it aside. *It doesn’t matter, its in the past now.* He thought numbly.

“You need a hug.” Wufei stated and stepped forward. Duo backed away in surprise and fright. Wufei never even held hands with his dates when they were over and he wanted to hug Duo? His startled violet eyes locked with serious dark-black as he back away from his fellow pilot. Right into Trowa’s firm chest. *When did he get behind me!?* He realized he was way more out of it than he thought from that alone. *So much for going out the window.* He thought.
Trowa wrapped his arms around Duo and pulled the shorter boy against his chest again. Wufei slinked his arms around Duo’s waist and leaned against him fully. Quatre twined his supple limbs around Duo’s neck.
“Duo…” The blond breathed against his ear softly. “We’re your friends, we’re here for you, we always will be.” He stated speaking for all of them.

How long had it been since he’d had physical contact with someone? Real, lingering contact? How long since he’d been warm? Since he’d felt something other than loneliness, other than the raw gapping chasm left by Heero not being there anymore? Months. He hadn’t seen Heero for two months before that final, fatal mission. Hadn’t even had time to hug him before running off to battle. Then afterwards he’d shut himself off. He remembered once not more than three weeks ago, Quatre had come to the safe house bubblingly happy about something and wrapped his arms tightly around Duo’s frame. He’d stood there in shock at the touch, unsure what to do. Quatre had pulled away embarrassed. He’d spent a couple minutes trying to figure out what was different. He normally loved to touch and be touched people he trusted and cared about. Quatre was one of those people. He’d pushed it away brutally and headed for the laptop.

“You’ve been starving yourself Duo.” Trowa’s voice rumbled against his back as he stood ramrod straight in the circle of his friends’ arms.

“I promise to eat more. Now let go.” He demanded coldly.

“I don’t mean food.” Trowa told him.

“Duo, whether you realized it or not, you need to be touched.” Quatre said softly. “You’ve been shutting yourself away from us, you’re like a flower locked in a closet. I can feel you withering inside.” Quatre said worriedly and hugged him tighter.

“Quatre damn you and your empathy abilities!” He said bitterly.

“Please Duo, don’t shut us out any longer.” Trowa rumbled again and it sent a shiver down his spine.

*Heero…* that one single word throbbed against his mind and tore apart his heart as he slowly let himself be comforted.
“I…I…just can’t believe he’d leave me.” Duo stated bewildered as he started to cry, great gasping sobs that tore through his chest.

He remembered the walks in the park; the dinner’s together, sleeping late, the carnival that Duo had dragged a protesting Heero to and the fact that his koi enjoyed it.

The massages, the kisses, the hugs, the caresses, the sex, more importantly the lovemaking, the snuggling.

The almost deadly missions when they both thought they wouldn’t make it out and desperately wanting the other one to be safe, the Gundam battles, the gunfights, the fistfights.

The tears, the sobbing, the pain, the hurt, the worry, the fear, the anguish.

The sharing, getting to know each other, falling in love, the healing, the wholeness, the rightness of being near each other, the happiness.

Mint chocolate-chip ice cream, rainstorms, Battleship®, origami, picnics, fighting, making up, long silences, long conversations, late night Emails and phone calls, love letters.

Tears rolled down Duo’s face silently. Each tear he shed was a thought, a memory, a feeling of Heero that he let go, that he said goodbye to. He was surprised and disgusted at first by how easy it was to let his beloved go.
*But really I’ve been letting go for months now.* He realized suddenly. *I long ago realized that I wouldn’t find him, not alive at least.*
He barely registered as his legs gave way his friends caught him. *I’m not ready to move on, but I think that…maybe I’m ready to except. That’s why I went and got the file.* he thought to himself dully.
“But…how am I going to…live without you?” He asked the air softly. He wrapped his arms around Quatre and Wufei, hugging them tightly to himself. Shuddering sobs continued to shake his frame. A keening wail burst from his throat and hung quivering in the air. It was heart-rending and full of pain. The three other pilots lowered him to the floor. He sat with his back heavily against Trowa, the green-eyed boy a firm foundation at his back, Quatre sat against his right whispering unheard words of comfort and support, Wufei practically lay on top of him direct in his approach. Duo closed his eyes feeling the warmth of those around him. Their breathing, their heartbeats, their flesh against his. He reached out his left hand seeking, searching. It met empty air, as he knew it would. There was no warm body, no whispering breath. His heart was gone. He opened his eyes and saw his pale hand reaching outward, as he always would be. Reaching for the one he’d lost.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(4 months, 3 weeks, and 7 days after Heero’s capture)

“You wanted to see me sir.” A soldier said stepping into the comfortably decorated office.

“Yes I did. You know the prisoner everyone calls Wings?” Dirk asked. The man nodded his response.
“I want you and the other soldiers to do me a favor. Tell him he’s bad. Slip the word bad in often.” Dirk instructed.

“Yes sir!” the man said and saluted. “But…if I may ask sir. Why?”

“I’m beginning a campaign of psychological warfare. I doubt I’ll get anything from him, so I’m going to train him, but first I have to break him to rebuild him and he still won’t do what I tell him to half the time. I want the soldier’s to use him hard and use the word bad an obscene amount of the time.” Dirk said and dismissed the soldier.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once Dirk had decided to stop trying to get information from him, Wings’ life had gone from a hellish, tortured existence to…he wasn’t really sure. He knew it was worse but he didn’t really know how. Dirk spent all his time with Wings so he wasn’t the nightly plaything of half the compound anymore, just most of the time; he wasn’t suffering from a greater quantity of injuries or more serious ones. He just knew that he hated having Dirk near him so often.

“Come!” came the sharp barked order and Wings slowly walked across the room to obey, the metal tags on his leather collar jingled slightly. Oh how he hated that cursed thing. He couldn’t wait until Dirk left, then he could rip the vile thing from his throat once more. It wasn’t long ago that he’d just ripped it off while Dirk was still there, but now he knew better. He sank to his knees on the dirty floor before the blond soldier, everything in him screaming to attack the bastard. “Better.” The manic purred and ran a hand through Wings’ matted hair. He shivered in fear and self-loathing.
*Why do I listen to anything he says? Why? Why don’t I just kill myself?* he asked even though he knew the answer. He didn’t want to die. He felt like he had something to live for, even if he didn’t know what it was. He knew it would involve killing Dirk though and that was enough to keep him going at times, good enough to keep him from killing himself every chance he got. *He’ll get sloppy. He’ll get comfortable. And when he does, I’ll kill him.* Wings thought with a small smile inside his head.

Dirk clipped a leash to his collar and pulled him roughly to his feet. He led the boy to a wall and fastened his arms and legs spread eagle in the Gundamium cuffs. The only thing that could keep his ‘pet’ when he’d first shown up. Now he was too weak to be much of a threat as far as breaking out. The man unclipped the leash and walked away.

CRACK!

Wings tried to keep in the cry of pain as the long-whip bit into his flesh.

CRACK! It snaked out again and cut into his broken body painfully.

“Aaahh!” He cried loudly.

CRACK!

“Aaahh!!” He cried again bucking in his restraints. “Please!” He begged hating himself even more, but he couldn’t take much more. His body was giving out on him. “Please stop please!”

CRACK!

“I will stop if…” the cold voice said. “You tell me who your contacts are.” He said happily knowing the boy wouldn’t tell him. Not really caring that he long ago gave up on getting any information from the boy, just wanting to toy with him.
Violet eyes sparkling with mirth clouded Wings’ vision. *Who are you?* he asked the eyes silently. They were the only light in his world, the only color. The walls were gray concrete, the soldier’s clothing was dull gray and brown and green, his cell was blackness, his blood dark red. The eyes were so light and airy, ethereal in their wonder and brightness. *I have to keep them away from here. I have to keep them safe.* Defiance and protection welled up in him.

“Never you sick son-of-aCRACK! Aaahh!!” The whip sounded against his flesh.

“Oh my pretty little Angel Wings. You belong to me now, not those violet eyes. I own you.” Dirk said with a sneer as he correctly guessed what he’d been thinking. He released the boy from the restraints and he collapsed to the floor in a pained heap. Bending down he clasped a pale thin wrist in his hand and dragged the limp, groaning boy across the cement uncaring of the dirt that covered the floor. He tossed the boy onto a filthy mattress and began taking off his clothes. Pulling the boy’s legs over his shoulders, he rammed into him in one quick thrust. The boy’s harsh screams echoed in the concrete room as Dirk beat into him over and over and over again. A cruel smile spreading over his face a he felt the boy’s blood coat his length.

“I own you. Me. I have control over you; I could make your pain stop if I wanted to. NOT THOSE VIOLET EYES!” He screamed loudly as he pinned the boy’s arms to the mattress jerking his hips forward and banging into his slave roughly. “You tainted fucking dog! Who is your Master! Who!” He screamed. “Mesuinu! Saseko! [3] YOU FUCKING WHORE!!” He pulled his fist back and slammed it into the boy’s face. His head snapped back sharply from the impact and blood poured from his nose. The man swung his fist again, this time into his side. Crushing the already broken ribs, pushing the shattered pieces further apart. He wanted to scream but couldn’t get the air to do so. He wanted to die but he never did. He always lived through this. Always healed enough to live, but not to get away.

“Who is your Master!!” He demanded again gripping the boy’s face tightly and pulling it towards his.

“Not you, you sadistic mother-fucker.” He whispered around his tears, pain, fear, and blood. Knowing that he would pay for his words and not caring. He’d never call this bastard his master. Never.

The man leaned down and kissed his mouth forcefully. Plunging his tongue into the warm protesting cavern spurned on by the blood that still flowed. Knowing that his ‘slave’ hated it when he pried his mouth open and forced his tongue inside, bruising his lips, the inside of his cheeks. Anywhere he could cause pain.
Unable to breath because of his broken nose, Wings slowly felt himself succumb to the relief of unconsciousness as Dirk continued to plunder his mouth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(5 months, 2 weeks, and 1day after Heero’s capture)

Wufei sat straight up in his bed. Trying to place what had woken him. He gripped his sword tightly trying to calm the pounding of his heart. Just when he was going to write it off as nothing he heard a voice muttering softly. He climbed from his bed quietly moving with the stealth and speed of a shadow across the room and eased his door open. The voice sounded as though it was coming from Duo’s room and Wufei stole across the hallway with a light step. He stood at the doorway a moment and listened to the noise. Wufei realized that the taller boy was gripped in the throes of a nightmare and almost sagged with relief. The safe house hadn’t been compromised.
He leaned his sword against the wall and pushed the door open soundlessly, entering the room. He didn’t know why, Duo’s nighttime problems were his own but…he worried about the longhaired American, although he’d never admit it. Duo lay tangled in his sheets thrashing about wildly and whimpering loudly. Suddenly he let loose a harsh scream causing Wufei to jump in surprise.
*I can’t leave him like this.* Wufei thought as he stepped forward to the bed. He lay down and wrapped his arms around the struggling form, pulling him tightly against his chest.

“Its okay now its okay.” He whispered into the other’s ear. Duo flailed against him, kicking and hitting wildly. Wufei winced he knew he’d have bruises come morning. Duo’s whimpers turned to protests of fear as he fought against his dream attacker.

“No…please no…stop…Let me go! Let me go!” He gasped shrilly as tear poured down his pale cheeks.

“Come on wake up now. Duo wake up its just a dream.” Wufei prompted him shaking him a little. Duo’s elbow caught him hard in eye. *Okay Maxwell that’s going too far* Wufei rolled on top of the taller boy and pinned his struggling arms to the bed as he straddled his slim waist resting his weight on his knees.

“Maxwell wake up!” he demanded loudly. The other’s eyes flew open, glistening in the dim moonlight. He lay still a moment breathing hard. “Maxwell are you okay?” Wufei asked.

“Fei-fei?” his voice was small as he said that one word. Wufei released him.

“Yeah. You were having a nightmare. Are you okay now?” He said ignoring the nickname for once. A single gasping, shuddering sob shook the boy’s frame.

“Yeah I’m fine. Sorry to wake you.” Duo said softly as he regained his composure.

“Do you want me to sit with you?” the dark-haired boy asked.

“You’d stay with me?” Duo asked in disbelief.

“Of course I’d stay with you. If you wanted me to.” Wufei said still on his hands and knees over the other boy. Wufei saw him nod in the gloom of the room. He laid on the bed next the other boy, not touching him. “Do you want to talk?” Wufei asked softly. After a few long moments Wufei thought he wasn’t going to answer, but then he started to speak.

“When I was little…” He whispered harshly after a moment. “They…I can’t.” His breath hitched in his chest painfully as he spoke bitterly. “I always think that the nightmares are over and then I wake up screaming.”
Wufei suddenly reached over to Duo and pulled him close. Duo let loose a squeak of protesting fear as Wufei’s strong arms wrapped around him. Wufei ignored the noise and nestled the other boy against his shoulder, holding him tightly.

“Duo.” He whispered softly. Duo held himself stiffly a moment and then let himself melt against Wufei. A sob wracked his body and then another.

“Oh god Wufei! Why does it still hurt so much!!” He declared as he shuddered against his friend. Wufei remained silent as Duo sobbed against him. Simply offering what comfort he could. He ran his hands over the other’s back lightly, noting for the first time that he wore only a pair of boxers to bed. Duo clung to the front of his sleep shirt tightly, soaking it with his tears and pressing his body hard against Wufei’s as if trying to climb inside the lithe body to get away from what haunted him in the night.

“It’s all right now Duo. It’s okay.” Wufei said hoping he was being useful in some way. He didn’t really know how to comfort someone but he knew he didn’t want his friend to cry. Wufei just held onto him and rubbed his back. Slowly Duo’s hiccupping sobs quieted and his breathing evened out. He fell asleep wrapped in Wufei’s arms, pressed close against his body.

*This is really nice.* Wufei thought without meaning to. He’d never actually slept with someone before. He’d had sex a few times but never fallen asleep with someone. He just couldn’t. Couldn’t give himself over to the oblivion of sleep when someone was near him. *I guess its because Duo’s a pilot like me. I trust him to not kill me in my sleep.* Wufei thought drowsily as sleep claimed him.

~~~~~~~~Duo woke to sunlight streaming in the window, birds chirping outside…and a warm pair of arms wrapped round him. His sleep-fuddled mind said that this was okay; he was supposed to be sleeping with someone, with Heero. Duo nuzzled his face against the warmth of the other person’s shoulder and sighed deeply. Something registered, or rather didn’t register in the back of his mind and fought to make itself heard. He inhaled deeply again…*that’s not…that’s not Heero.* He thought groggily. He inhaled again scenting the air to make sure, then sat straight up scrabbling backwards from the embrace and wedging himself in the corner the bed occupied with a startled cry. Wufei woke up as well, searching for a threat but finding only Duo.

“Maxwell?” Wufei questioned softly, not moving toward the startled boy. “It’s okay.” He said reaching a cautious hand to the now hyperventilating boy. “Maxwell you need to snap out of it.” Wufei stated holding his hand lightly. Duo flinched away from the touch with a gasp, curling himself into a tight ball. Wufei laid a hand gently on his shoulder as he continued to speak softly. The longhaired boy’s eyes slowly focused and he breathing evened out.

“Sorry Wufei.” He said shakily.

“Are you okay now Maxwell?” Wufei asked concerned.

“Sure Fei-fei, I’m dandy.” He said plastering a smile on. “Jus not used to wakin’ up to beautiful ole you droolin’ on my pillow, you cute lit’le thang.” he declared in a Southern accent and batted his lashes a couple time while making kiss-kiss noises. An eyebrow twitched but Wufei said nothing. He personally felt his patience was an inspiration to Zen Buddhist monks everywhere. He climbed off the bed in a huff and walked to the still open door.

“Hey…” Duo soft voice stopped him. “Thanks Wufei I really mean it.” He said seriously.

“Not a problem Maxwell.” Wufei said without turning around his voice sincere. “Ouch!!” he yelped as a shoe pegged him in the back of the head. “Maxwell!!! What in the name of all the gods is wrong with you!!” Wufei yelled and turned around clutching his offended head.

“Oh, nothing’s wrong with me Wu-wu! I’m just fine!” he retorted angrily and folded his arms across his chest grumpily.

“No, you’re mental!” Wufei declared and started ranting in Mandarin as he left the room. Duo caught the words ‘PMSing onna’ and ‘totally mental’ in English as he left.

“Prick. One day I’ll find out what onna means and then I’ll kick his ass for it.” He muttered to himself as he stood up getting dressed for breakfast. He took his hair down and ran a brush through it angrily, then quickly pulled it into a tight braid.

He went to the dining room in a huff and threw himself into his normal chair. Trowa was already cooking breakfast and Quatre sat at the table still looking sleepy.
“You look (aaahhh) tired Duo……you feel (aaahhh) okay?” Quatre yawned loudly.

“Fine.” Duo grumbled.

“Really?” Quatre asked unconvinced.

“Yes.” He growled.

“Mm-hmm.” Quatre replied staring at Duo. The longhaired boy began to shift uncomfortably. Quatre continued to stare a look of pure innocence coupled with mild curiosity on his face. Duo fidgeted some more.

“Alright! Wufei pissed me off! Now stop staring!” he admitted angrily.

“How its only 9 in the morning? You both just woke up?” Trowa asked with a note of disbelief in his voice, as he stayed focused on his French toast.

“It’s a long story.” Duo said tiredly and ran a hand over his eyes.

“The story is, I’m never going to try to help Maxwell when he cries and screams like a little bitch in the middle of the night again!” Wufei declared angrily as he wandered into the room. Duo’s head snapped around to stare in disbelief at the other boy. A momentary look of pain, hurt and betrayal passed over his eyes before Duo pushed it down and his face became blank.

“Fuck you Chang.” He said in an even tone and pushed passed the dark haired boy roughly. None of the others moved as they heard the front door slam loudly.

“Wufei.” Quatre said disdainfully.

“What the hell was that all about!” Trowa almost yelled at him.

“I know.” He said and sat heavily at the table with a sigh. “I’ll go after him.”

~~~~~~~~It was ‘summer’ on L2 and the day was already starting to get hot. Duo walked aimlessly, not caring where he went. He needed a fight, badly. He found himself in a park where a sensei was ‘teaching’ a group of adults martial arts. Duo stood and watched them for a while wondering how the guy had gotten a teaching license. He was horrible. His moves were sloppy most of them were incorrectly done or completely impractical. Duo snorted loudly.
*What’s he making this up as he goes?* Duo thought angrily. The instructor turned at his snort.

“Would you care to try young man?” he asked with a sneer.

“No, I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone. How much are you swindling these people for anyway?” Duo snorted again and turned to walk away.

“Whatever whore, go back to you’re corner.” The guy taunted and turned away. On a good day Duo would have ignore it, on a good day it wouldn’t have bothered him, on a good day he wouldn’t have started his day by getting scared shitless and then totally pissed off at Wufei, on a good day he wouldn’t already have the sound of someone calling him whore bouncing around inside his skull and on a good day he wouldn’t have kicked the guy’s ass.

Today was not a good day.

“Let go! MAXWELL! I SAID STOP!!” Duo finally registered that someone was talking…well yelling at him and trying to pull him away from his chosen victim. He had to hit him, had to kill something, had to make those words stop pounding into his heart by pounding into someone else. He registered the yelling. But he didn’t stop. He pulled his fist back to hit again, blood splattering on his face as he did, seeping into his shirtfront. The warm-wetness of it drove him onward. He stopped when he felt the length of a blade pressed against his throat, but just barely. Furious onyx eyes bored into his.

“What the hell is wrong with you 02!” he hissed angrily.

“Well 05 it was you or someone else.” He said brightly and climbed off the broken man who coughed weakly as others called a medic. He turned away from the shocked Wufei and stared walking again. Duo plodded into a dank alleyway and slid down the wall slowly. He wrapped his arms around his knees and leaned his head forward. He’d be okay, he’d be fine if he could just get a little time, he’d be fine if…

“Maxwell!” Wufei growled.
He was not going to be fine.
“What the hell were you thinking pulling a fucked up stunt like that?! It was just a goddamn name!” Duo looked up, a vein was pulsing in Wufei’s forehead.

*Wow pulsing vein and cussing, I really pissed him off. Hehehe.* he thought with a small amount of triumph it faded quickly. Duo stood slowly to his feet and brushed off his closes. He went from complete nonchalance to psycho in about two seconds.
He slammed Wufei against the wall, holding onto his shirtfront tightly.

“I was just a name to you, dick. Chang Wufei……if you ever talk about my dreams with anyone again or call me bitch or whore or hooker I will kill you.” Duo said calmly. Wufei stared into his eyes so dark they were like the blood that stained his body, unable to hide the fear he felt. Duo dropped him and the other boy almost didn’t catch his balance. A small tremor shook his frame as he watched Duo walk away. The boy was Death walking. Shingami incarnate. Wufei had never put much store by the American’s loud boasts about being the God of Death, but if there was one, it was Duo Maxwell. He wasn’t too proud to admit that the braided boy had scared him. Wufei only knew of one person who could stare Death in the face and be unafraid, and Heero Yuy was already dead. And he wasn’t too proud to admit he’d been in the wrong not when his friendship was on the line.
Wufei exited the alleyway and went after Duo. A man was trying to sell him drugs. In brood daylight! And no one seemed to care!

*Gods this colony is just begging to be destroyed.* Wufei thought wryly. Duo was holding himself very still, which was normally a bad sign from the hyperactive pilot.
“Get away.” Wufei commanded and pushed the foul man away who slinked off angrily. He linked an arm with Duo slowly and pulled him onward trying not to stare at the people around him. They were filthy and destitute. “Let’s go back to the house. Trowa’s making breakfast.” Wufei said softly. Duo nodded once and let himself be led along in silence. About half way there he heard Wufei take a deep breath.

“I always thought you were full of it. About all the Shingami stuff. But you’re not.” Wufei said pulling his arm away now that he was sure Duo wasn’t going to kill any pedestrians.

“I never lie.” Duo told him stiffly.

“I didn’t think you were lying, I just thought that you believed it, not that it was true.” Wufei told him. They were quiet again. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. I’m sorry about what I said. It was wrong of me. I let my anger speak and I hurt you. I broke your trust and I feel…I feel like it was a bigger mistake than I know. I feel like I may have lost you’re friendship over what I said in my stupidity. And I’m sorry.” Wufei said sincerely bowing his head. Duo ducked into another alley without a word. Wufei followed him. Duo started banging his head against the stonewall. Wufei could only stare in disbelief. Then the violet-eyed boy stopped and leaned back against it.

“We all have nightmares. Except for guys like us…they don’t stop. They’re still there when the daylight comes.” He said his voice full of sorrow. “I hate this place. I want it all to burn!” Duo said with sudden hatred. Wufei was a little shocked by his vehemence. “This place has taken everything from me and I fucking hate it. Let’s go.” He said tiredly and started walking again. “You’re still my friend Wufei.” He stated after a moment.
Wufei froze in surprise after a few more feet. Duo walked ahead passing easily through the crowds. It was one thing to know that L2 was a pretty run down place and another to see it first hand. Wufei had never stayed for a long time before and never in these seeder parts. Duo didn’t see what Wufei did. He didn’t see the drug dealers, he didn’t see the homeless, he didn’t see the prostitutes selling their wares. He didn’t see because he’d seen it all before. Wufei now remembered that Duo had grown up here. This is where he’d been a street rat; this is where Maxwell church had burned. He hurried to keep up with the longhaired boy. He slipped his arm around the narrow waist of the taller boy blushing furiously, but he didn’t care what anyone else thought. They’d been here for months and none of them had remembered that Duo grew up here. None of them had thought about what Duo was feeling by being back here on top of losing his best friend. Wufei wanted him know that they weren’t going to abandon him. He wasn’t alone. Duo wound an arm around Wufei as well and they walked back to the house together.

“Sorry about your eye.” Duo said softly.

“No big deal.” Wufei told him. “I’ll help you if you have a nightmare Duo. I wouldn’t want you to have to be alone…I know I hate it.” Wufei said quietly.

“Thanks Wufei.” Duo said comfortably. Wufei stared in surprise. “What?”

“You just called me Wufei. You called me by my name!” he stated incredulous.

“Yeah I do that from time to time.” Duo said merrily.

“Why do try to get a rise out of me so often Maxwell?” he asked.

“I don’t Wuffers, I simply give as good as I get.” Duo smiled sweetly.

“Explain yourself Maxwell.” Wufei growled in a bad mood again. Duo sighed loudly but was otherwise silent as he continued walking. “Maxwell!”

“Just think about it Wuu-fee. I’m sure a smart boy like you will figure it out.” Duo said. He wasn’t angry; he was just…a little disappointed. Maybe a little sad. Heero was the only one to ever figure it out. Heero was the only to figure out a lot of things about him. Duo pushed his tears back as he and Wufei walked back to the safe house.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(6 months, 2 weeks, and 5 days after Heero’s capture.)

“Come!” came the sharp barked order and Wings leapt to obey. He sank to his knees quickly. He focused on the floor not meeting the man’s eyes as he ran a hand through the boy’s filthy hair. He held himself very still. Maybe if he wasn’t too bad he wouldn’t be punished as much. Maybe. Maybe he’d even get to eat today. The thought of the moldy, dirt-encrusted bread made him drool. The Master gripped his hair painfully tight and yanked his head back. Prying the boy’s mouth open with his tongue, he plunged his into the open mouth. The boy wanted to pull away but he held himself very still as his Master sucked and bit painfully on his lower lip. He thought he was doing well today and he didn’t want to mess up. He didn’t want to make his Master angry with him. The man jerked him to his feet and slammed him against the concrete wall roughly. He didn’t fight against the man as he started kissing him again and fondling his body. The Master pulled his small feet from the floor and wrapped the boy’s bruised, torn, and dirty legs around his waist. Grabbing the emaciated, narrow hips tightly, leaving more bruises among the already uncounted numbers. He sheathed himself inside his slave as he always did. Quickly, harshly and without any form of lubrication, save the boy’s own blood. He didn’t cry out or struggle as tears ran down his face. His Master stood with him pinned against the wall a moment and looked at him. The man seemed wary as if waiting for an attack. He pulled out of the boy and thrust into him hurriedly. The boy couldn’t keep from crying out, but he tried to keep it as a loud whimper, for fear of getting in trouble. He thrust into the boy over and over, the metal tags on his black collar chiming together softly. Slamming his bruised hips crashing against the stonewall, sending bolts of agony through his whole body. The Master bit down hard on the juncture of his neck and shoulder, drawing blood as he came. He stepped back, dropping the boy to sprawl on the floor with a thud. The Master knelt down by him and the slave tried to raise himself into a sitting position. Wheezing and gasping as he felt his broken ribs shift against his already collapsed lung. His dark blue eyes were large with fear and pain.

“You were a good-boy Wings.” He said softly and laid a gentle hand against the pale face. The slave sat frozen a moment as tears silently ran down his cheeks. Then he closed his eyes and leaned ever so lightly against the pressure of the Master’s hand. Then man wrapped his arms around the boy and pulled him into his lap gently, cradling him against his body. He trembled violently against his Master.

“Very good-boy Wings.” He whispered and stroked the boy’s hair as he lay with his head against his Master’s shoulder. He pulled back slowly to look at the man as if to confirm the face of the person who really held him, then laid his head back against his body. A final shudder went through his body and he relaxed against the man that held him.

“I’ll get you some food.” He said and placed the boy gently onto a filthy mattress. He stared up in something akin to awe as the man dressed and left the room silently.
He returned a short time later with a cup of broth and a fresh white roll. Wings’ heart sank. *I guess I won’t eat. I must have done something wrong.* He thought as he pressed himself against the wall in a panic as his Master approached. The man sat back on the mattress and broke off a small piece of bread and soaked it in the broth. He held it out to Wings who stared at him in uncomprehending disbelief. The Master pushed it gently against the slave’s mouth. Wings swallowed the offering slowly as if fearing retaliation. When the Master pushed another bite toward him, Wings took it into his mouth hungrily.
“Very, very good Wings.” He crooned as he fed the boy. Wide Prussian blue eyes stared up at him in fear, confusion, a wide range of emotion played across his face. Tears coursed down the boy’s face and his entire body began trembling again. His teeth began to chatter.
*I did good. I was good.* he thought silently to himself. “Master.” He whispered softly. He raised a shaking hand and laid it gently on his Master’s arm. He slowly shifted his weight foreword. Each moment fearing that the man would once again become the violent monster he knew so well. The man, his Master, opened his arms and Wings sank into them carefully, as he was gently, carefully, kindly cradled against the soldier’s body.

After that very slowly, little by little, Wings began to anticipate the arrival of his Master, he wanted the company. Wanted the suddenly kind voice to tell him he’d been good, that he was approved of. The dark lonely cell still echoed with the dead voices of his other cellmates. He was all that was left when they’d expected him to go first. Days would go by and his Master wouldn’t come to see him, Wings would quickly start to feel depressed, sad. Then metal would grate against metal and he’d climb to his feet as quickly as his could and stand in the middle of the room hesitantly. Wanting to be near the door if his Master was coming, but wanting to be as far away as possible if it was someone else. He hadn’t seen or heard from another person it months, but he was still afraid. And so he was torn. He was still beaten whenever his Master sparred the time for him, still raped, still starved; his Master was still the same manic he’d always been. But he was also starved for a word of comfort. Starved for kindness, starved to gain some kind of approval or attention. And Dirk gave that. He gave punishment, he gave pain, he gave small amounts of pleasure. Whenever the words ‘good boy’ passed his lips, the tightness in Heero’s chest eased just a small bit, just for a little while. Because he was accepted, someone approved of him.

~~~~~~~~“Hello my Wings. I’m going to give you a bath today. How does that sound?” The blond chimed as he entered the dank cell. Wings stood in the middle of the floor wiggling happily. Soft, high-pitched crooning noises of delight were emitted for his wracked frame. He’d finally been taught not to speak, his shoulder still slipped out of joint from that sometimes. He should have been a good slave, he shouldn’t have talked. He deserved it.
The water in the bucket was tepid and had been laced with salt, but even though it stung like a bitch, it was heaven. He was getting clean, he’d eaten two days ago, and his Master was spending time with him. He was the luckiest slave alive.

The sound of machine gun fire could be heard suddenly. Men shouted and footsteps were heard running. His Master looked angry at the interruption. Gunfire sounded loudly against the door to Wings’ cell. And the boy jumped in surprise and fear.

“Dirk Valin. We are going to kill you for your crimes against the Colonies.” A harsh voice grated. Wings scrabbled backwards and wedged himself in a corner. The eyes of the five rebels fastened to the broken body of the small boy in the corner. “And humanity.” Rage lit up their faces as they moved toward the blond man. They began to beat him, kicking and hitting the prone form before them. Wings sat in the corner, his pale shaking hands pressed firmly over his mouth as he whimpered in fear.

*They’re going to kill him! They’re really going to kill my Master!* he thought. Part of him rejoiced, part of him wept him terror. *If they kill Master, who will feed me?* he asked himself. The logical progression was this. Master = Food, Food = Survival, Master = Survival. To stay alive he had to protect his Master. He hated the man; there was no questioning that. But part of him needed to be told that he was doing a good job. The guilt he felt when his Master told him he’d been bad was often too much for him to bear, but his joy at doing good was just as extreme. He staggered to his feet. His face hard, eyes blank.
“Now you die Valin!” one of them exclaimed and raised his gun. Wings rammed into his side knocking him down and grabbed the gun as they went. In less than fifteen seconds the other rebels were dead. Wings held the gun tightly in his hands, he stared down at the metal, he looked to his Master, then back at the gun. He tossed the gun aside and limped to where his Master lay hurt.

“You saved me!” he exclaimed incredulously. Wings knelt and pressed the damp cloth that was originally for Wings to bathe with over a wound on his forehead. “Good boy Wings!” He exclaimed happily in disbelieve and hugged the boy to him. “Good-boy!” he started laughing that insane laugh of his and Wings almost, almost felt like he wanted to smile. The man hugged him again. Hard. A small squeak of pain streaked out and Wings clung to his Master waiting for the red haze to pass.

*My Master is happy with me.* he thought contentedly as he blacked out in the man’s arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(6 months, 3 weeks, and 4 days after Heero’s capture.)

“Here. This is for you.” a familiar voice intoned as a long knife in a black sheath plopped onto the table in front of Duo with a thud.

“Um…Thanks. What’s this for?” He asked picking up the weapon. Wufei shrugged and walked away. Duo scratched the end of his nose in confusion. “Does Wufei seem different to you guys?” He asked the other two pilots.

“What do you mean?” Quatre asked seriously, but Duo thought he caught a glint of humor in the blonde’s eyes.

“Never mind.” Duo said and waved it off. *First a new lock pick set, then a sling blade, then a gun and box of ammo, now a knife you could gut an elephant with. Is Wufei…is Wufei trying to get my attention?* Duo blushed as realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Aaahh, now he gets it.” Trowa said quietly. Duo blushed more.

“I…I gotta go. I’ll be back.” Duo said and climbed quickly to his feet and left the house. Hurriedly.

“He’s running.” Trowa commented.

“Well this is the first he’s noticed. I still can’t believe it took him three weeks to get it.” Quatre said laying his head down of the table before him. He’d gotten back from a mission not too long ago and was still tired.

“Go to bed little one.” Trowa said running a hand through his soft blond locks.

“Only if you come with me.” he grinned mischievously. The two of them walked hand in hand to their room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Holy shit! Wufei is fucking courting me! In his own fucked up, practical way.* Duo thought as he walked around the streets of the city on Earth they were now in. *Heero.* he thought pulling up the not so gone ghosts of the past. *Six months you’ve been gone now. Six months is a long time.* he thought with a sigh.
“I…I don’t know…I mean Wufei…is nice, but…he’s not you, ya know. I miss you, but I think I always will. I love you, I don’t know how to stop loving you. I don’t know if I can love someone else and Wufei’s a great guy. He deserves to be with someone who’ll be able to love him, not just be near him. Maybe he doesn’t want a huge relationship, maybe he just wants some comfort. I don’t know if I can do that ‘Ro. It isn’t just some thing for me you know that. Sex is about love. I don’t know if I can love him, I don’t know if I can love anyone and I don’t want to hurt him. I mean I’m yours, totally, but I know I have to try to move on. I know you’d want me to be happy, but…I just don’t know.” He said talking aloud to his dead lover. Duo sat on a park bench, fall would be coming soon. Duo hated being cold. He hadn’t felt warm in a long, long time. *Like six months.* he thought.
“Oh, Heero I just don’t know what to do. I…I want you, but…I want to be true to your memory. But Wufei is here and solid and real and warm and…you can’t be those things anymore. I still miss you, but I realize that, if I let myself, I’ll be able to move on. I really can’t decide anything without talking to Wufei.” He said with a sigh and rose from the bench. “Thanks for talking with me ‘Ro.”

Duo went back to the safe house and into Wufei’s room without saying a thing to the other two pilots. They just watched him go and hoped for the best.
Wufei looked up surprised at his entrance.

“We need to talk.” Duo said quietly. He could almost hear the ::gulp:: as Wufei slid over to make room for him on the bed. Duo sat at the foot and faced Wufei. “Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t realize what was going on with you sooner. I’m not the kind of person to take relationships lightly; I don’t just jump into them. So if you are thinking about some short-term fling, this won’t work out between us. It might not work out anyway. I got a lot of baggage to deal with and you’ll have to deal with it too. There are a lot of things you don’t know about me and vice versa. I’d want to take things slow, I have to feel my way into it. I clam up very easily if I’m not comfortable, I put on my jokers face and its hard to see the real me, I like it that way.” Duo paused and let what he’d said sink in a bit before starting again. “Also you’re going to have to deal with the fact that you aren’t first in my heart, that place is already taken.” Duo told him.

“I was married once.” Wufei told him. Duo looked shocked. “She died.” Wufei’s voice held just a hint of quaver as he spoke. He sat lost in thought for a moment before coming back to the conversation. “Can I ask who?” Wufei wondered. Duo stood and went to look out the window. He took a deep breath.
*This is it if I tell Wufei, Quatre and Trowa will know too. Can I deal with that? If it gives me the chance to not be alone…*

“Heero.” He whispered not looking at the other boy. Duo looked back and almost smiled at the look on Wufei’s face. Shock, didn’t even begin to describe it. He looked like he’d swallowed a live gold fish and found the experience very unpleasant. Then he looked angry.

“If you don’t want to spend time with me all you had to do was say no. There is no honor in leading someone on.” Wufei told him coldly. Duo turned silently and walked to sit on the bed.

“Dou you remember that solo mission I had at Wesley Grands?” Duo asked.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Wufei said heatedly.

“It wasn’t a solo mission, I was with Heero. He had two missions that month and they both got routed to you and Quatre. Heero was captured by OZ for six days. There wasn’t a reason to tell you guys, so we didn’t Heero didn’t want anyone to know.” Duo said wearily.

“So the Perfect Soldier was captured, so what.” Wufei said uninterested. “He’d been captured before.”

“He couldn’t do any missions after that, that’s why they were given to you and Q-man. He was a wreck. He wouldn’t sleep, he wouldn’t eat, some days I couldn’t get him to go to class. We were on a mission. Not going to class could blow our cover and I had to threaten him into going to class.” Duo told him.

“What?” Wufei asked incredulously. “Heero would never have endangered a mission.”

“Normally no. Broken ribs, dislocated shoulder, minor concussion, bruises, bite marks, scratches. They raped him for six days. They fucked him until he passed out. He was scared, terrified. He was nervous, fidgety, he couldn’t sit still. He wouldn’t look anyone in the eye. He told me that he never knew something could hurt so badly. Never knew that being tortured could awaken pain in his heart. He begged me, fucking begged me to take it away. To make him stop feeling. And I couldn’t do anything. I wasn’t there to help him. I failed him. I failed him twice. And now he’s dead.” Duo was sobbing as he spoke.

“Maxwell I…I’m sorry. I had no idea that you cared for Heero. I would never have tried to start a relationship with you if I had.” Wufei said ashamed. “And you didn’t fail him. There wasn’t anything you could have done to save him.”

“Thanks Wu-wu.” Duo said with a sniffle as the other boy put a comforting arm around him shoulders.

“Gods would you stop massacring my name!” Wufei declared angrily and folded his arms across his chest.

“Turn about is fair play.” The braided boy told him coolly as he stood and left the room. Wufei was outraged.

“Turn about? Turn about?! I have never destroyed your name as you do mine.” Wufei declared indignantly as he followed he other boy.

“You never call me by my name!” Duo stomped away angrily.

“What!?” Wufei exclaimed outraged and confused.

“My name is Duo, NOT Maxwell!” the braided boy shouted angrily and went to his room slamming the door.

Duo burst into tears as he sank to the bed. He curled into a tight ball around his pain. *Well Heero looks like I am going to be alone. Who needs stupid Wufei anyway.* he tried to fight back a hiccup but failed. *GoddamnstupidmotherfuckingcocksuckingOZlovingcumguzzlingrectalwarthatemongeringassspelunkerofdoom HICCUPS!!!*
“I fucking (hic) hate getting the fucking hiccups!” he growled and rolled over.
*I don’t know what having dated Heero has to do with anything. I guess Wufei just came to his senses and was looking for a way to back out, although that doesn’t sound like him. But what the hell do I know.* Duo cried harder. *Stupid baka! You know that you shouldn’t have let yourself get your hopes up. Who’d want you? You’re loud, obnoxious, stubborn and…Fuck this. I ain’t stayin’ here!* Duo jumped up drying his eyes as he went and trying to quell his hiccups. *I’m going out! I’m going to go and have fun and screw anyone who doesn’t like the idea. Especially Chang!*

Duo grabbed a pair of skintight black bondage pants. No, they went beyond skintight. These were flesh-poured-into-steel-mold tight. They hugged his ass like a second skin, the cuffs wide enough to almost cover his black mid-calf boots. They were littered with metal spikes, chains, safety pins A tight black tank top bared his well-muscled arms, flashing a bit of collarbone, and showed of his flat stomach, leading down to his narrow hips. Black make-up graced his cherub features, lipstick, eyeliner, massacre. He took a tube of liquid eyeliner and painted the Japanese character for death on his pale cheek. He painted his nails. Black of course. He unbraided his hair and brushed it thoroughly, then twined a black ribbon through the shining length of his hair as he rebraided it. *Time to go have fun.*

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[1] I do not own nor make money off of the History channel. Also I don’t know many exact details about the GW timeline, but I’m guessing it’s far in the future. Far enough that I will never own my own kick-ass giant robot or live on a space colony : ( So I thought it would be cool to do a History special about our current time period.

[2] Means- Raivu-‘live’, nashi-‘without’, otaku-‘you’.

[3]Mesuinu-means ‘bitch’, Saseko-means ‘whore’

I can't speak Japanese. I am using Japanese words with American sentence structure.