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Left Unsaid	By : ElleSmith Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Yaoi - Male/Male > Heero/Duo Views: 1021 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: GUNDAM WING is a Registered Trademark of Bandai, Sunrise, Sotsu Agency & TV Asahi. This work of fiction was written for non-profitable purposes.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Chapter 07: ECT
A cloudy morning announced its untimely arrival with the beeping of a garbage truck moving down the street ten stories below. Dim gray light washed over Heero's small apartment as the sun rose behind the thick clouds. Duo lay sleeping on the couch, nuzzled deeply into the pillow and blanket Heero had left there. He was awakened by the truck's consistent beeping and loud banging as it loaded one trash can after the other.
It was raining; a heavy shower tapping mercilessly against the open window's ledge. The central heating had turned the small residence into a furnace, so the window was open, letting in cool air and the sounds of the city that never slept. Manhattan was damn noisy, but then again, so was L2. If he kept his eyes closed, Duo almost felt at home; almost, because it never rained on L2. That would be a waste of precious water.
The truck rolled away, heading further down the block. He opened his eyes and rolled over to lie on his back, listening to the rain. He had nearly forgotten what it sounded like: annoying. His head hurt and his temples throbbed; he was hung-over and sleep deprived. Groaning wretchedly, he threw the cover aside and got up, heading towards the bathroom. He stopped in front of the closed bathroom door and glanced in the direction of the only other room down the hall: Heero's bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, enough to allow a narrow view of the double bed inside, where Relena lay sleeping, curled in Heero's bed, wrapped in sheets that probably smelled like him. He watched her with a pang of jealousy. It was only natural to let her have the bed; it probably wasn't the first time she had spent a night on it. Duo sighed, shook his head, and entered the bathroom.
He stood over the toilet, relieving himself, and scanned the small washroom out of boredom, maybe curiosity. He reached for a men's shower gel bottle resting on the bathtub-ledge and flipped the lid open with one finger. He took a sniff, closing his eyes as the heady male scent filled his nostrils. It was pleasant... heck – it was fucking sexy, maybe because now he knew how Heero smelled like. The thought made the fragrance even more intoxicating.
Placing the soap back down, he spotted a small make-up case lying by the sink on the vanity next to him. He stared at it lengthily, wondering exactly how many nights did the young senator spend in this apartment. Suddenly he felt that he could never replace such a relentless presence. Relena has been a part of Heero's life for almost ten years now. She was everywhere... everything. How could she expect him to compete with that? How could she possibly believe that he was the only one who could save Heero? He's been away for too long... he didn't know who Heero was anymore. From what he had been told last night, Heero wasn't the same person he remembered from wartime. She was far more equipped to handle him, much more experienced. Why was she suddenly passing the torch over to him? He didn't know if he could handle such responsibility. What if he let Heero down again?
When he stepped out of the bathroom, the bedroom door was wide open. The bed was empty and neatly made. He walked back to the main living area and spotted Relena in the kitchen, making breakfast and coffee. His first meal of the day was usually a smoke. He went to fetch his cigarettes from the coffee table and walked over to the open window. He leaned over the wide ledge, and smoked while gazing outside.
The black executive's car was still parked in front of the building. From ten stories high it was hard to tell if it was occupied, but it was safe to assume that the two secret service agents were still there.
"Man, those guys must really love their job," he muttered, taking a long drag on his cigarette and releasing the smoke outside.
Relena stepped out of the kitchen carrying a steaming mug of black coffee and a small plate with scrambled eggs and toast.
"They're used to it," she said and placed Duo's breakfast on the coffee table. "We should head back to Preventer soon," she told him and headed back to the kitchen; "office-hours start at eight."
She was halfway there when suddenly a phone started ringing. She froze, halting, and Duo did the same. They both checked their cells, pulling them out of their pockets.
"It's mine," Relena determined quickly and showed him her phone and the caller ID flashing on the screen. "It's Heero," she whispered uneasily.
Duo pushed away from the window and hurried towards her. She took the call, put it on speaker mode, inhaled deeply and answered: "Hello?"
"I know they're trying to trace this call," a low male voice declared harshly. Duo recognized it as the same voice that has been calling him lately.
"Answer me this quickly: is he there?"
Relena looked up, meeting Duo's eyes. "Who?" she asked, playing dumb.
"You know who," the deep voice replied calmly; "Yes or no – is he there?"
Duo nodded at her.
"Yes," she said.
The call disconnected.
"Wait—" Relena called, but it was already too late. She gasped, looking fearfully up at Duo.
His cellphone rang next. He was already holding it in his hand. The caller ID read 'Heero'. They looked at each other tensely and Duo answered the call, putting it on speaker.
"Quit playin' games, motherfucker!" he growled; "Just tell us what you want already!"
"By the end of this week Heero will be dead, but not before he calls out one name," the man said calmly, unfazed by Duo's threat; "Which will it be: yours or hers? Name it right and his death will be quick and painless. Get it wrong and he dies a slow and agonizing death."
The call was disconnected again.
Relena's phone rang again. He was bouncing between the two of them, trying to avoid a trace.
"A name, now, or all bets are off."
He hung up again and called Duo.
"Who will he call to redeem him? Will it be you – a man he hasn't seen in eight years, or her – the woman who bore his child? Choose quickly or Heero will suffer for your silence."
Duo and Relena looked at each other anxiously.
"I will count to three and then you will have the pleasure of hearing him scre—"
"Mine," Duo blurted out; his hard eyes on Relena. She nodded, approving his choice.
"It's going to be mine," he repeated more confidently.
"I appreciate your confidence," the Redeemer scoffed smugly; "You'll get your answer in four days," he declared, and hung up.
Their phones remained silent this time. Standing in the center of Heero's living room, the two stared at each other anxiously.
"We better get to Shaw," Duo said.
*     *     *
It was morning. Bright orange-white light flooded the living room of a small apartment, radiating off the bare cream-colored walls and the beige carpeting on the floor. The light was too brilliant; eerie. Everything glowed with an unnatural orangey halo; bright, distorted... surreal. And it was quiet. Too quiet, considering the open balcony window was overlooking a busy main road bustling with traffic just a few stories below. A soft wind was blowing, tousling transparent white drapes hanging over the sliding doors. The fabric flapped under the cool breeze, revealing an urban landscape and in the horizon – Capitol Hill.
Heero stood a few feet away from the balcony, looking out at the view.
He was back in his old DC apartment. He was dreaming.
He stood barefoot and dressed in a thin blue hospital gown. An IV needle was inserted into his arm, above his inner wrist. It stung. Everything hurt, so the stinging barely registered.
A noise came from the direction of his bedroom. He turned around slowly. His bare feet padded noiselessly over the carpet as he placed one foot in front of the other, walking dazedly towards the sound. He stopped at the bedroom doorway and looked inside.
Relena was standing there, her back to the door so all he could see was her long blonde ponytail cascading down the back of her smart black business suit. She was rummaging through his dresser, pulling out clean underwear and clothes. She was too busy to notice him. He watched her quietly, as silent as a ghost.
Voices drifted from somewhere far away. People were arguing, a man and a woman, but their words were muffled, distant. He turned away from the bedroom to face the hallway again. There were two other rooms further down the hall. He walked towards the first. A couple was arguing inside. He could hear them more clearly as he approached.
"You have no right coming here asking to see him!" a woman cried angrily; "You don't even know his name!"
"I'm his father!" the man shouted back.
"Just go!"
"Not before I see him!"
"You're not welcomed here! You never wanted to be a part of our lives so I moved on! Now go! No— Don't touch me! Don't you EVER touch me again, Odin!"
The woman ran out of the room. She bumped into him in the hall. She stopped, gasping; her long brown hair flung back and forth by the abruptness of the halt. She looked up at him, her dark blue eyes furious. It was his mother. He was looking at his mother. It was strange, because he had never seen her from eye level before. In his memories, she always towered above him, yet now he was facing her as an adult of the approximate same age... finally seeing her eye-to-eye.
"You are just like him!" she accused spitefully and shoved him aside, running off. He turned to look over his shoulder, his expression stony as he watched her run towards the end of the long orange hallway, where she was swallowed by flames.
He turned back towards the room she had just departed in a hurry. He stepped closer, stopping at the doorway, and looked inside.
Odin was there; as tall, broad, rigid and menacing as he remembered. The man glared at him sourly with a pair of ruthless Prussian blue eyes.
"We're nothing alike," he grunted; "I never would have let you die."
A gun was fired; the shot echoing within the small apartment.
Heero winced, recoiling back a step. It felt like he had just been shot in the heart. It was bleeding. But he wasn't shot. His daughter had just shot herself in the other room.
He turned to look over his shoulder again, back at the corridor. Relena was running towards the den, but it was already too late.
Elizabeth will be dead in a few moments.
He turned back to Odin.
The man now lay bleeding on the floor. He'd been shot too. He was going to die too. Heero stared at him numbly.
TELL ME ABOUT YOUR PARENTS, a deep male voice commanded. It was coming from all around him, vibrating through him; invading... consuming... violating... everything.
"M-my... parents?" he asked dazedly. It was hard to speak. Everything hurt; his mouth especially. Its left side was swollen and throbbing. His words were slurred like he just returned from a visit at the dentist.
YES, the Voice confirmed. TELL ME ABOUT THEM.
The dream faded away; the eerie orange light replaced by the harsh bright-white glare of the projector above him. His inner arm hurt, stinging. Squinting, he could vaguely make out the sight of an IV line running into him, dripping pinkish-clear fluid into his vein.
TELL ME ABOUT THEM, the Voice repeated the demand.
He closed his eyes, feeling woozy. He licked his parched and chapped lips, trying to ease the irksome dryness, but for naught. His mouth was completely dry, and sore; he was so thirsty...
TELL ME, the Voice insisted and suddenly his world flared up in pain; white-hot agony bursting into ferocious flames, incinerating him from the inside. The words started pouring out of him; hoarse, pained, quiet and gasping:
"My... my mother..." he sobbed the words out, trying to please the Voice so it would stop hurting him; "she... she worked. Something... dangerous... something... important... always more important..." He shuddered, muscles convulsing, teethe chattering. His mouth hurt so much, but he had to keep talking...
"I was just... there..." he mumbled, tears in his eyes. He couldn't stop them. He was crying. The torture eased a bit; the burning pain receding slowly. His body slumped tiredly into the reclined chair. He could breathe again... and the words just kept tumbling from his lips:
"She had a... a husband..." he continued faintly; "He wasn't my father. They... they died. Their work... it was... important. It killed them..."
HOW OLD WERE YOU? The Voice asked.
"I don't know..." he cried, shaking his head weakly; "young... I don't know... Can't... can't remember... much... There's... there's nothing important to... to remember..."
AND YOUR FATHER?
The very word pierced his heart, puncturing it until it bled some more.
"He... he took me in..." he whispered and more tears gushed from his sorrowful blue eyes. He closed them, ashamed. "Odin... he... he didn't even know my name..."
DO YOU KNOW YOUR NAME?
"Yeah... sure..." he slurred the words out without thinking; "It's Seiki..." [[i]] he said his name far too casually considering he was speaking it out loud for the first time; "Seiki Clark..."
WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL HIM YOUR NAME?
"Odin he... he didn't... didn't know... I knew... I knew who he... I heard them... fighting... I knew... who he was... he didn't know who I am... not really... and... after a while... it just... Seiki just... stopped... that name... it didn't mean anything anymore... it wasn't me... Seiki is the name my mother gave me... it doesn't mean anything... I was never his son..."
DID YOU WANT ODIN TO ACKNOWLEDGE THAT HE WAS YOUR FATHER?
"Sometimes... But he... he died too... All three of them... I saw... saw them... they died... I watched... they died... and I... I... I was alone... it... it didn't matter... I was... I was... always... alone..."
DID YOU LOVE THEM?
He whimpered softly, shaking his head.
"I tried... not to..." he whispered mournfully; "They... they didn't... It was like... I wasn't even... there. Not me... not... not... not like that... not like I wanted to be... I had to be what... what they wanted, but... but never... never... never important enough... never... never... no one played with me... it wasn't... I wasn't... love isn't... it's not... it's not as important..."
THAT IS A VERY HARSH TRUTH FOR A SMALL CHILD TO ACCEPT, the Voice determined; IT OBVIOUSLY HAD A PROFOUND EFFECT ON YOU AS AN ADULT. YOU GREW UP THINKING YOU WERE... NOTHING.
"...disposable..." he murmured sadly; "It's... what weapons are... now..."
WERE YOU SAD WHEN THEY DIED?
Heero shook his head helplessly, tears soaking his pale face. "No..." he wept; "not... not really... I... nothing was ever really that sad... never... everything just... happens. Shit happens... all the time. It's not... not important... nothing is... you can kill me... I don't care... I won't beg for it... and I... I won't run from it... it... it doesn't matter... so just... please... just... stop this..." he pleaded, crying pitiably; "please... don't... don't make me... do this..."
IS THAT WHY YOU DIDN'T TRY TO KILL YOURSELF WHEN ELIZABETH DIED? The Voice ignored his plea and continued probing. BECAUSE IT DIDN'T MATTER WHETHER YOU LIVED OR DIED?
He whimpered, powerless to stop the words from coming.
"I... I didn't care... one way or... the other..." he rasped miserably; "nothing... it didn't matter... live... die... it's all the same... whatever comes... I... I don't care... it's... it's not important..."
WAS YOUR DAUGHTER IMPORTANT? DID SHE MATTER?
"She should have..." he whispered bashfully; "she should... but... but she... Relena, she... she was always... always working and I... I... I was... like him... far away... I never really... I didn't know... and when I... when she told me... when I knew... I was just like him... I didn't... didn't care... not enough... I... I was... I was just like him..."
YOUR FATHER?
He nodded; his tears flowing freely. "I didn't mean to be like that... I tried... I... I made her important... told myself... everyday... I... I knew she was... she had to be... she couldn't be like me... she was mine... she... I tried... I... I did... I knew... I felt... nothing was ever that important... only she... I was her father..."
DID YOU RESENT RELENA FOR CHOOSING HER CAREER OVER RAISING YOUR CHILD? LIKE YOUR MOTHER DID?
"I... maybe... I... I don't know... I don't... I never... maybe..."
The Voice became more urgent, more demanding. DID YOU LOVE YOUR DAUGHTER?
"No... I don't think so..." he confessed brokenly, crying; "But I... I... I was... far away... it was better that way... the distance..."
SO YOU WOULDN'T HAVE TO LOVE HER? It accused.
"No!" he shook his head in denial, sobbing out the words. "I... I knew she was important... I... I felt... I was... I knew I... I made her important... but it was too late... now I... I can't forget... I was responsible for her... I... I couldn't... it was... it was all I could be... it wasn't enough... but it was all I could be... I tried... I... I... I tried..."
LOVE AND DUTY ARE TWO VERY DIFFERENT THINGS, HEERO. ARE YOU EVEN CAPABLE OF LOVE?
"I don't know!" he wailed; "I try... I try, but... I don't know... I don't know if I'm doing it right... No one's ever... I don't know... how. I'm just like them!" he cried brokenly, caving to his tears so he could no longer speak. "I'm so sorry!" he sobbed loudly; "I'm just like them! I'm sorry! I'm just like them..."
I THINK WE'VE MADE QUITE A BREAKTHROUGH TODAY, the Voice spoke to him softly this time; GET SOME REST. WE'LL CONTINUE ONCE I RETURN.
Silence fell. The Voice was gone. Heero was left in the dark, alone with his thoughts and his tears. He wanted to go home...
*     *     *
Agent Shaw was leaning over the shoulder of a surveillance specialist sitting at his station in the Criminal Intelligence Division. The two were looking at the computer monitor while the young man tried to work his magic. Duo and Relena stood behind them, waiting anxiously. They were both wearing the same clothes from last night, though Relena had put some make-up on, using the make-up case she had found in Heero's bathroom. She was surprised to find it there, but she couldn't possibly dwell on it at the moment. Maybe one day, if it would still be relevant.
"What's taking so fucking long?" Duo grunted; "The asshole was using Heero's phone! It should be a piece of cake... You were ready for this, right? Surely you must have done something to his phone in case this shit happened..."
"It doesn't matter what we did to Yuy's phone or whose phone the Unsub was using," the specialist said, never turning away from the monitor as his fingers swept skillfully over the keyboard. "The Unsub was screwing around with the triangulation metrics. I'm having trouble finding a physical connection through any of the towers around Yuy's block. The cellular phone company's log can identify what towers your phones were associated with at the time, but that's about it."
"You mean you don't know where the calls we received came from?" Relena tried to clarify.
"A mobile number isn't attached to a given switch," the young specialist explained; "So while the far end knows what the number calling is, determining where it's coming from involves some delicate work. Usually the logs help and then we can narrow the search down based on signal strength comparisons, which of the tower's directional antennas are holding the signal, and sometimes, if we're lucky, through the GPS chips in phones."
"But you're not getting any of that?" Relena asked; "Because he kept switching between our phones?"
"No, we can trace a call regardless of how long the caller stays on the line," the tech explained; "Once the call connects, it's already transmitted through the towers and logged."
"So he was just playing with us?" Relena realized dreadfully.
"Either that, or we're dealing with an amateur," Shaw said.
"He's no amateur," Duo grumbled; "He knew his way around your damn database... enough to send me some sensitive intel."
The specialist shook his head. "I disagree," he said; "I had a close look at your laptop, detective, and the Unsub was definitely using a Preventer secured link to send you that data. He left enough to trace the data stream back here. The hacking job was sloppy... much like yours."
"All I'm hearing is that it don't take no genius to compromise your databases," Duo uttered scornfully and the young surveillance specialist offered a brief, ironic, little smile.
"It's not as easy as it looks," he then argued; "Not on that level, anyway. The Unsub was using a SCI level security clearance to access that data, probably Yuy's..." he mumbled uncomfortably, eyes darting back towards his computer monitor. "Heero's ID code was the last to access the data you received," he explained.
"We're obviously dealing with an insider," Agent Shaw determined. "And it's pretty clear that he's not NYPD," she sighed; "He'd have to know his way around here pretty well to hack Heero's computer."
"It's only doable if you can navigate our intranet," the specialist agreed. "The hack was an inside job: sloppy enough to let us know it came from our local network, but good enough to leave us clueless as to whom or where. The Unsub is just good enough not to get caught... and that's all he needs to be."
"He doesn't care if we know he's one of us," Shaw concluded grimly; "He's enjoying this."
They all exchanged worried looks.
"But could anyone mess with a mobile phone signal like he does?" Relena finally asked; "Any agent?"
The specialist shook his head.
"You'll need the right know-how," he said; "but just about anyone can get that online nowadays. And as for equipment... that would involve some resources, but it's doable. The Unsub was either using a directional antenna and some weak false associations, or an intermediary transmission layer linked to his phone... any radio could do that. In any case, he messed with the signal pretty good. I can only narrow it down to somewhere in the 20 square mile cone around Agent Yuy's apartment."
"You're talkin' about the entire Manhattan Island!" Duo exclaimed solemnly. "That doesn't help one bit!"
Merida released a somber sigh. "Just like with the other victims," she mumbled. "We couldn't pinpoint where they were calling from either."
The specialist nodded. "Same MO," he agreed.
"He's not slipping like you hoped he would," Relena accused harshly.
"No... he's not," Shaw mumbled, upset. "Something must be off with the profile. BAU was sure he would get so excited over his prize that he'll make a mistake."
"Well, so far he's done everything right," the specialist pointed out. "I'm sorry I couldn't help... but we'll keep trying. Next time he'll call, we'll try narrowing the region down further."
"We just have to keep him talking..." Merida agreed, nodding curtly; "keep him calling."
"Easier said than done," Duo muttered, scoffing; "It's gonna take a lot to get Heero talkin'... not to mention beg for death like all those other people. We might be looking at a long wait... if he ever calls at all."
"He'll die before he'll say anything..." Relena murmured, looking fearfully at Duo. "He isn't going to call."
"He will," Agent Shaw assured her; "Heero knows this case better than anyone. He knows that we'll be waiting for his call. He'll call. He will."
Duo and Relena didn't look convinced, but neither said a word.
*     *     *
Agent Shaw escorted the two to the elevators down the hall. She pressed the call button and they waited for the elevator to take them back to the CID's briefing room on the eleventh floor, where they will wait for a phone call that might never come. There wasn't much more they could do at this point.
Duo tapped his foot on the floor impatiently while they waited; an irate expression on his harsh face. Relena just stared at her shoes, deeply troubled. Shaw studied them both worriedly.
The elevator doors opened. A man was already inside when they entered; a middle-aged man with a deeply receding hairline, dressed in a plain gray suit and holding a matching leather briefcase. He adjusted his golden-framed eyeglasses and nodded in greeting. He stepped aside, making them some room. Agent Shaw pressed the button for the 11^th floor – the button for the 52^nd floor was already pressed – and turned to face the older man.
"Doctor Sloan, good morning," she greeted, smiling warmly. "Coming in late?"
The older man smiled back politely. "One of those mornings..." he said, sighing; "Traffic was Hell."
"Tell me about it," she agreed, still smiling.
Dr. Sloan turned to the other two occupants standing in the elevator. He reached a hand towards Relena, offering a handshake.
"Senator Darlian," he greeted respectfully; "I would say it's a pleasure meeting you in person, but under these circumstances..."
She shook his hand, nodding gratefully. "Thank you, doctor," she said; "I gather that you've heard."
The man nodded gravely. "Yes, of course. I'm very sorry for your loss."
"We haven't lost anyone yet," Duo interjected crossly. The man turned to him and smiled in apology.
"Yes, of course," he said and offered Duo his hand. "Detective Maxwell, I presume?"
"Yeah," Duo huffed and shook the man's hand halfheartedly.
After a short, tense silence, the elevator reached the eleventh floor and the doors opened. Merida, Relena and Duo stepped out into the hallway.
Sloan flung a hand forward, stopping the doors from closing. He looked at Relena, then at Duo, and back again. "I don't usually do this," he said; "But if you two ever feel that you need to talk, my office in on the top floor."
"Thank you, doctor," Relena said, nodding in acknowledgement. "Your kindness is appreciated."
Duo said nothing in reply and just turned away from the elevator.
"Same goes for you," Sloan added, gesturing with his head at Agent Shaw. "I'm here if you need anything."
"Thank you, doctor," Merida said; "I'll keep that in mind," she promised and the three headed towards the briefing room at the end of the long hallway.
Dr. Sloan watched them from the elevator until the doors closed.
*     *     *
It was quiet. So quiet... he could hear his own shallow breathing and nothing more. He was swimming in thick fog... drifting... lost. So quiet... peaceful. The Voice was gone... finally.
His nude body was cold; numb like stone. It was hard to move, even slightly, but he managed to turn his head aside, slowly... woozily. It was dark, but not as dark as before. A dim weak light was coming from somewhere in the room; a gray radiance dissolving some of the constant blankness that has become his world. He spotted the frame of a distant window; white cracks shining brightly around a boarded glass window. Daylight filtered in through the thin cracks. He stared at the window lengthily, dazed. Whispers in his mind reminded him of how the BAU agents briefing them on the case said that their Unsub most likely had a steady day job. His captor was at work... that was why it was so quiet.
He turned his head straight up again, staring numbly at the inoperative lamp directly above him, a dull expression on his gaunt and stubble-covered face. His left cheek was badly swollen; a faraway look gleamed weakly in his half-lidded eyes. They shone with a feverish glaze, gawking mindlessly ahead. An IV line was still connected to his arm, dripping pinkish-clear fluid into his vein. His mind wandered... drifting anywhere and everywhere at once.
His fingers twitched. He tried to lift his hands up, but couldn't. They were held down by what felt like leather straps. Yes... he remembered this part. He's been captured... He was lying in the intensive-care-unit on the 50^th floor of the Alliance Military no.3 Medical Building in the South J.A.P area. Yes... that was it... he remembered now... he's been shot.
Duo shot him. Twice. Relena was there too. They were coming for him... both of them. They were.
He looked around, his eyes searching the room desperately. There was nothing there... no one...
He tilted his head back so he could look behind him. There. He found it. A small monitor was sitting on a cart directly behind his head. He strained his neck, stretching his head back as much as he could.
The screen was dark. The monitor wasn't working.
He blinked, and suddenly it came to life; white-noise flickering on the screen. An image appeared next and he smiled, relieved. It was Duo; he was looking at Duo's face. The Deathscythe pilot looked exactly as he remembered from back then: a cocky fifteen-year-old smirking at him through the monitor, head bowed down slightly so that his eyes were concealed by a black baseball cap. He had a finger raised to his mouth, signaling him to keep quiet.
Heero stared, bemused.
"D-Duo..?" he croaked faintly, his voice hoarse, worn-down by thirst and helpless screaming.
"Are you... there?" he whispered shakily; hopeful, but afraid. "Are you... are you... real?"
Duo's lips moved. He was saying something, but there was no sound. He couldn't hear him. He tried to read his lips, but he couldn't focus... his vision was too blurry.
"I can't hear you..." he whispered miserably; "Duo... please... I... I don't... I don't understand... What are trying to say..? You're not saying anything..."
Duo was still speaking. He couldn't hear him either.
Heero closed his eyes sadly and turned his head back down, shaking it feebly.
"You're not real..." he rasped hopelessly; "this isn't real..."
Tears flooded his eyes, lingering to his closed eyelashes.
"None of this is real..."
He opened his eyes again and tilted his head backwards to look at the monitor. The screen was blank. He gaped at it numbly, disappointed. It wasn't real... none of it. No one was coming for him. Not Relena, and certainly not Duo.
"Duo..?" he whispered weakly, looking desperately at the blank screen. "Are you there..?" he pleaded, but only a black monitor stared back at him. Heero heaved a long and miserable sigh. He shifted his head back down, crying silently. Tears continued to slide freely down his stubbly and swollen cheeks.
Duo won't be coming for him. He had left... he had left him in that ICU after the fight in Brussels. He just left... Duo left before he was well enough to say the words that have been haunting him ever since...
Heero closed his eyes, whimpering quietly. Those words were finally coming out, but there was no one there to hear them: "Please don't leave me..."
*     *     *
Rising 52 floors above ground level and 1,046 feet into the New York skyline, Preventer's NYC's Field Office was the fourth tallest building in Manhattan, right along with the New York Times Building and almost as tall as the Chrysler Building. It offered a tremendous view of the city. Standing outside in one of the balconies on the top floor, Duo leaned over the concrete banister, smoking and gazing ahead at the Brooklyn Bridge not far away. A strong, chilly wind was blowing, tousling his long bangs and the stray locks sticking out of his long braid. He had raised the collar of his black leather jacket up to protect his neck from the powerful breeze. He gazed down at the city, his grim cobalt eyes scanning one building after the other, uselessly searching for a sign, something that would hint where Heero could possibly be.
Frustrated, he stubbed out his finished smoke on the concrete banister. He turned around, leaning against the bulky stone barrier, and pulled the cigarette box out of his jacket pocket. He placed a cigarette between his pressed lips and pulled out a blue lighter as well; Heero's lighter. He studied it for a moment, just holding it in his hand... thinking of its owner. He sighed and lit up his smoke. He shoved the lighter back into his pocket.
A man stepped out to the balcony, joining him. It was Dr. Sloan.
"May I join you?" he asked, approaching before Duo gave his answer.
"Go ahead," Duo grunted and turned back around to face the view, smoking. "I hear it's a free country..."
Dr. Sloan smiled politely. He leaned on the banister as well, standing next to Duo. "So they say..." he sighed; studying the view as well; "Thanks to your efforts, among other things," he added kindly.
Duo scoffed. "So you know," he muttered.
Sloan nodded. "Yes, of course."
"Heero told you?"
"I'm not at liberty to say."
"Well he shoulda told you that we were out to free the Colonies... a free Earth was just a perk."
"A most welcomed bonus, then," the man commented, smiling.
Duo rolled his eyes. "Sure, whatever."
"You're not very fond of Earth, I gather."
"I ain't very fond of anything," Duo grunted and took another drag on his smoke.
Sloan nodded pensively and turned around, leaning against the banister. He placed two hands in his pants' pocket and gazed down at the floor. They stood in silence for a while. Duo could tell that the man was waiting for him to say something. He heaved an irked sigh and pushed off the banister, turning to leave and head back inside.
"Look doc, I appreciate the gesture 'n all," he told the doctor and dropped the cigarette down, stomping it with his foot; "but I ain't done no talkin' with this shrink I'm supposed to be seein' back on L2, so... nice try, but no thanks."
The middle-aged man nodded and looked up, studying him for a moment.
"You remind me of him," he observed, smiling sadly.
Duo frowned. "Who? Heero?"
Dr. Sloan nodded an affirmative and Duo scoffed dismissively.
"How'd you figure that?" he taunted.
"You're both tough nuts to crack," the man replied smoothly, smiling in good humor.
Duo chuckled bitterly. "That would be your professional assessment? That we're both nuts?"
"Just an observation," the man shrugged and turned around to study the view, leaving Duo be. The young man remained standing where he was, looking at the older man. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the pack of smokes again, drawing out a third cigarette. He lit it up and went back to the banister, sighing. He leaned forward, studying the view again.
"You been treatin' him long?" he asked the doctor after a while.
"About a year now," Sloan answered, also studying the view; "since he transferred to New York. The transition has been... challenging."
Duo snorted. "I bet," he grunted; "The guy has a lotta shit to deal with."
Dr. Sloan nodded in agreement. "Our sessions are..." he sighed; "It's a work in progress." He turned to look at Duo, his face stern. "Heero doesn't talk much," he added, adjusting his eyeglasses over his nose.
"No shit." Duo muttered and took another puff on his smoke. He leaned over the banister a bit, standing on his tip toes, so he could look down at the street below.
"Makes you wonder though, right?" he said, still facing down.
"Wonder what?"
"What makes a guy like him tick," Duo clarified and rose back up, lifting the cigarette back to his lips. "Useta drive me up the wall... thinkin' 'bout what goes on in that dense head of his."
Sloan nodded. "He's an enigma alright."
"You gotta read between the lines with that guy... which is kinda hard considering he don't say much," Duo concluded with a bitter chuckle.
"I can see how that would drive someone crazy," Sloan agreed.
"Yeah, well, at least you get paid to deal with it... I had to go to war with that guy... and no one threw in any hazard-pay, yanno?"
The man smiled at his joke. "I imagine that it was quite difficult, having to depend on a guy like that."
"Oh no, the depending part was easy," Duo disagreed, shaking his head. "He's so fucking reliable... It was all the other parts that were too damn hard." He sighed, bowing his head down miserably. "I just... I dunno. I was out looking for trouble, I guess. Like I didn't have 'nough of ma shit goin' on, yanno? But man, was he worth it... He was irresistible."
Sloan offered a sympathetic smile. "The mysterious ones always are."
Duo nodded. "I just had to figure him out... crazy, huh?" he mumbled, gazing down at the city. "Funny thing is, in the end it turns out that I was way off. Looks like the one who really understands him is someone I always ruled out as totally clueless."
"Relena?" Sloan asked and Duo nodded, laughing sullenly.
"That's gotta be ironic, right?" he snorted; "I mean, I figured that Heero and me... we were so much more alike, but... but maybe he didn't need that. He already had his own ugliness to face in the mirror... why add mine on top of that? God... I shoulda figured it out back then. Woulda saved myself a lotta heartache."
"Would it have changed your feelings towards him?"
Duo looked up, alarmed. He laughed nervously. "Oh man, it's that obvious, huh?"
Sloan smiled back.
"Nah... probably not," Duo exhaled tiredly and turned back to the banister. "I woulda still been a jealous bastard... wanting it all, yanno? The good and the bad... his beauty and his ugliness." He looked ahead numbly for a moment, a wretched look in his cobalt eyes.
"Sad things is... I still do," he mumbled and buried his face in his hands, still holding the burning smoke between two fingers. "God... I wish..." he shook his head against his hands; "Fuck it," he rephrased; "I... I just... I pray to God he's gonna make it, doc. There's... there's so much I gotta tell him when it's over... so much I left unsaid..."
Dr. Sloan nodded in understanding. He placed a comforting hand on Duo's shoulder, tapping on it lightly. He went back into the building, leaving Duo to his thoughts.
The braided young man remained standing on the balcony, leaning over the banister with his face still buried in his hands. He moved one hand away, the one without the cigarette, and reached into his jacket, fingers seeking the crucifix hanging from his neck. He held the small pendant in his fist tightly, his eyes closed and his face still hidden behind one hand as he offered the Lord a first prayer in years, hoping that if there was a God out there, that he would be willing to listen to his plea.
*     *     *
It was dark again. And cold... so cold. He was frozen... inside and out. At least that way, nothing hurt anymore. Numbness was a blessing. He could stay like this forever...
There was a dripping noise... droplets falling quietly into a puddle somewhere below. His blood. He was bleeding from open gunshot wounds... his blood dripping to the floor.
Drip...
Drip...
Drip...
He was still strapped down to that bed, at the Alliance military hospital.
Where was Duo? Why wasn't he coming?
Because Duo left. He left him in Brussels.
Wait... that couldn't be right... it hasn't happened yet.
But it has... a long time ago.
Duo left. He had left angry... betrayed. He wasn't going to come back.
He shouldn't have angered Duo... shouldn't have done many things... should have done many other things... but it was too late.
He was alone now. Alone.
It was so cold... and Duo... he... he always made him feel... so... hot...
TELL ME ABOUT DUO.
The Voice was back. Heero jerked, startled.
"D-Duo..?" he echoed weakly; barely able to speak. His jawline hurt so much; a raw, acid heat pulsated through it when he moved his mouth. It was infected; the inflammation has spread to his inner cheek, causing it to swell dangerously. It was hard to talk... it hurt.
YES, the Voice confirmed; TELL ME ABOUT HIM.
"He won't help me..." he mumbled hazily, shaking his head.
WHY NOT? The Voice demanded to know.
"I... I messed up..." he whispered; "really... really... bad..."
MESSED WHAT UP?
"Us... What... what... what we... we could've... what we could've... had..."
WHICH IS?
"I... I don't know... couldn't... couldn't... couldn't stick around... long 'nough to... to find out..."
WHY NOT? WHAT WERE YOU RUNNING FROM?
"...fire..."
FIRE?
"Hmm... yeah..." he murmured dreamily, nodding his head; "Duo is... he's... he's like... fire. Hot... burning... dangerous..."
YOU MEAN YOU WERE SEXUALLY ATTRACTED TO HIM?
"Hmm... yeah..." he smiled sluggishly; "but... but that burn... it... it was... wasn't just that..."
WHAT WAS IT LIKE THEN?
He had to think about that one for a moment. "It... in my chest... it burned... so hot... it... hurt. Thinking about him... just... just thinking... burnt... too hot... I... I... I couldn't breathe sometimes... it just... it was... like... like rocks... heavy... and... and... too much... I... I couldn't... I couldn't function... like... like I... like they wanted me to... It was... always him... distracting... pulling me under... and..." he sighed; "...that burning... in my chest... it... it scared me..."
WHAT ABOUT RELENA?
"Relena..?" he blinked, dazed.
DID YOU FEEL THE SAME WAY ABOUT HER?
He shook his head feebly. "No... not like... Relena was... she's... mellow... not... not like... like those flames... She... she... it was like... like... like soaking in a warm bath... It... She... I... It soothed me... I liked it... that... that... that calm... peaceful... like it was... it was... like I could finally... sleep..."
WERE YOU ATTRACTED TO HER AS WELL?
"...sometimes... yeah... but I... with her I... it was... soft... like warm water... It... it was a different kinda warm... not so hot... not so... so... dangerous..."
YOU FELT SAFE WITH HER.
"Yeah... yeah... safe... she... she made everything... better..."
AND DUO?
He sighed, despaired. "Duo... complicated things... everything was so... confusing... too... too much... Duo is... he's... too... much... too intense... everything has to be... be... fast and... and furious... and... and sometimes I just... I..."
YOU JUST NEEDED TO FALL APART, the Voice deduced; YOU NEEDED SOMETHING SOFT TO LAND ON.
"Yeah... maybe..."
UNLIKE WITH RELENA, YOU FELT THAT YOU NEEDED TO BE STRONG FOR DUO?
"I... I didn't want him to... to burn out... That fire... sometimes it was... too hot... too dangerous... he could... could burn... and I... I just... I wanted him to... to be... safe..."
LIKE YOU FELT WITH RELENA?
"...yeah... like that..." he slurred quietly, tired; "I... I tried but... but I... I was never... never that... that warm... never that... soft... I was too hard... I didn't mean it, but... but it was... it was..."
THE ONLY WAY YOU COULD PROTECT HIM? BY BEING STRONG... CALLOUS?
"Yeah... that," he agreed weakly; "I... I was always too desperate... came on too... strong... We... we could never... never really... we never really got past the... the... the sex... always... too strong... too angry... It was that fire... it... it consumed... everything... blinding us... it was too hot... we couldn't get close..."
HAVE YOU TRIED TALKING TO HIM ABOUT THESE THINGS?
"No... no... I... I don't... I never... I didn't know how..."
YOU'RE DOING IT NOW, the Voice pointed out.
"Yeah... but I don't want to... you're making me... you... you did... you did something... to me..."
The white light above him switched on. Heero gasped under its harsh assault and clenched his eyes shut, groaning. He could feel movement next to him. Medical instruments were clanking again. He opened his eyes carefully, squinting, and turned his head aside in the direction of the movement. He peered through half-lidded eyes that have yet to adjust to the terrible brightness. A familiar face hovered above him; the face of an older man with a deeply receding hairline and stern, calculative eyes staring him down from behind a pair of golden-framed eye-glasses. He knew this man... he's been avoiding him for so long... Could he be the Voice?
"I've been poisoning you for almost three months now, Heero," the man informed him smugly as he reached for the instruments tray and picked up a new syringe and a small glass vial filled with pinkish liquid.
"Undermining your every defense," the man continued as he filled the syringe; "breaking you one piece at a time." He tested the needle, squirting some fluid out, and turned to the IV bag hanging above, full of clear fluids.
"Add to that a few intense ECT treatments [[1]] and some of my Magic Potion... and you can't help it," he explained arrogantly as he injected the pinkish mixture into the bag, where it slowly blended with the rest of the fluids. The IV line soon filled with the pinkish-clear mixture, dripping into Heero's arm.
The man turned back to face him, only his jaw line visible under the brilliant white lamp. He was smiling slyly.
"You're finally going to talk to me, Heero," he promised, leaning down towards the restrained young man lying helplessly on the chair. "Whether you want to or not."
Heero gaped numbly at the face of the man hovering above him. The Voice now had a face, and it was the face of one Dr. G. Sloan.
"But trust me," Sloan continued, still smiling haughtily; "I'm doing you a favor. I'm going to help you choose... All those things you've left unsaid are finally going to come out, Heero," he promised; "It's the only way this is ever going to end," he said, and Heero closed his eyes sadly, turning the other way.
"It's the only way you'll ever be redeemed..."
*     *     *

[1] ECT: Electroconvulsive therapy (popularly known as shock-therapy) is a standard psychiatric treatment in which seizures are electrically induced in patients to provide relief from psychiatric illnesses, such as a major depressive disorder. ECT is administered under anesthetic with a muscle relaxant and a breathing tube.

[i] Seiki: (n) (mind and) spirit/life energy/vitality/essence
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