Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Shikanenai ❯ Captured ( Chapter 1 )

Title: Shikanenai - Part 1

Series: Gundam Wing

Standard Disclaimers:

Yes, yes, the rules are still the same . . . we may write fanfiction as long as we don't claim ownership of Gundam Wing or those kawaii little bishounen. To quote from our own Justice Boy's official battlecry (coming soon to a ficlet near you . . . maybe), "Futou!!" No, he didn't just say what you think he did!! Sheesh, you friggin' potty mouths! *audience sweatdrops* But I did, however, write this story. It is born of my own insanity, my views on life, and, of course, those dopey li'l romance novel induced ice-cream urges.

Spoilers: Up to Ep 25, I think.

Rating: for reasons below . . . PG-13

Warnings:

It's a slight AU(ok, alt-timeline), fluff, angst, drama - Duo-chained-up - ( not like that you hentais ;), some violence, lime content (some characters have sex but it's not described play for play), and some swearing.

<*~~~~~~~~~~~~~*><*~~~~~~~~~~~~~*><*~~~~~~~~~~~~~ *>

Shikanenai

- capable of anything

By Duo no Tsuin

<*~~~~~~~~~~~~~*>

PART ONE

<*~~~~~~~~~~~~~*>

Damn! How do I get myself into these messes? Duo thought. His hands were shackled. From them, he hung like a caught fish. Though . . . a fish would be struggling. Unless it was dead. He hung his head. Or sensed his imminent death.

<*~~~~~~~~~~~~~*>

Nataku, again I must ask you to lend me your enduring strength. The air is thick and heavy, weighing us all down. The days are difficult. Duo, the loud American pilot, is missing, presumed dead. I, myself, am not all that surprised. He takes risks that we don't. Believing himself to be the God of Death, he has lost sight of his own mortality.

The others are taking it hard. Quatre is grieving openly and even Trowa is exceptionally quiet. Heero is, by far, reacting the most severely of them all. He is always focused and quietly awaiting the next mission. But lately that focus is short of obsession as he sits and stares at the computer monitor for hours on end. And now he is silent. Before, it was rare to hear him speak, except for the occurrence of him speaking rather than punching Duo at his taunting, and now he speaks only when his intentions can't be read by us. And, unluckily for him, that is not something we specialize in. No, that was Duo's department. Somehow, Duo seemed to know him as we never could. Heero will show us nothing of his feelings. In fact, maybe Duo knows all of us better than even we do ourselves. He was always like that. He will be missed.

As much as I feel that I shouldn't think it, let alone speak it, I know that now he is gone. Things will never be the same. I fear, yes, fear for our collective sanity. Not that we were ever "sane." But with the absence of such a colorful soul amongst us, we will inevitably be drawn deeper into the war and the darkness. If we lose sight of the effects of war, then what will we be fighting for then?

"Lend me your strength, Nataku, to face the new future and the impending eternal damnation of our souls."

<*~~~~~~~~~~~~~*>

As Quatre turned his gaze to the window, the sky darkened, and the clouds opened up, showering the house in its time of grief. "It started raining. Seems fitting that the sky should cry instead of us," Quatre observed.

"Hn."

"Don't worry, Heero. Something will turn up," Quatre said reassuringly as he returned his gaze to whatever greeted Heero's persistence.

Trowa walked up behind Quatre, placing his right hand on Quatre's left shoulder. "I think . . . "

"He needs to be alone. I know," Quatre agreed softly. Trowa's arm moved to encircle his shoulders. Quatre leaned into him, grateful that his Trowa was as strong as he always was . . . if not more. They began to walk out of the room, leaving Heero to glance quickly at the steadfast couple.

He looked quickly back to the computer screen. The black screen that glowed green. Green. Was that envy I felt? I have no reason to be envious. But Duo . . . Duo . . . He thought of the outrageous American boy. Duo had his vanity and boisterousness. And Heero had his determination and commitment. He was just a loud mouth. A baka. He annoyed everyone. They all miss him, though, even Wufei. Now he has no one to make fun of. Quatre and Duo are . . . were close, as close as any of us can get to another as friends. They were so much alike. And Trowa, well, he has Quatre. And Quatre needs him right now. What do I have? Nothing. Only the mission. But without a mission in war, what do I have then?

The computer screen dimmed suddenly, fading to black. Then, it was alive with the code. Heero went to decoding the message, which took little time for his apprehensive fingers. He scanned the information. "Just a routine mission." He sighed. "Infiltrate OZ base . . . steal the location of the secret OZ MS manufacturing plant from the main computer . . . and get out." A 3D layout of the base was included. Heero scanned it, memorizing his route. "Mission . . . accepted."

<*~~~~~~~~~~~~~*>

Duo still hung in the prison, awaiting whatever fate lie ahead. The initial wrap session had passed. He had said nothing. Not that Heero would ever care. He'd sooner shoot me on sight then ki- . . . dammit! How did his stupid, luscious, pouting mouth get into this?! Aw man! Now there's no way I'm going to get any sleep. Damn you, Heero! He cursed silently.

<*~~~~~~~~~~~~~*>

"Hm?" Heero and Wing flew closer to the installation. Thankfully, it had stopped raining and the sky had cleared before he left. Not that it really mattered. He knew the area. He would hide Wing and infiltrate. "Just a routine mission."

<*~~~~~~~~~~~~~*>

"Trowa?"

"Yes, Quatre?"

"You're tense."

"More than usual?" His eyebrow rose.

"Trowa!" He nudged Trowa's taut muscular arm. "Firm maybe, but not tense . . . I hope."

Trowa smiled lightly. "Never for you."

"But for another? I mean . . . Heero and Duo?"

"Heero believes Duo is dead."

"But I am not so sure."

"You're not." It was not a question.

"Call it a feeling, but I just know he is alive. Why do you seem tense tonight? Is it because Heero left so suddenly? It was just a routine mission . . ."

"But Heero left quickly . . ."

"To find Duo, maybe?"

"Not intentionally. Right now, he thinks only of the mission ahead of him."

"And not the long-haired Duo?"

"He is trying not to show any feelings . . ."

"But he kept staring at that computer screen . . ."

"Hoping to see . . ."

"Something . . ."

"Any mission. All he knows is war. It is all that he has that is stable in his life now."

"Especially with . . ." Quatre's eyes began to swell with tears. Trowa took Quatre's face in his hands. "But what if Duo really is . . ." As Quatre closed his eyes, a tear began to fall. Trowa brought Quatre's face to his lips and kissed it away. He then kissed the same place beneath the other eye.

"No more worries, my little Quatre. And no more tears. If Duo really is alive, then we will find him. I promise you that. But we can't give up. If we do, then we'll lose him forever."

<*~~~~~~~~~~~~~*>

Poison. It has to be. Duo thought groggily. First questions, then torture, and when they could take no more . . . poison. And not truth serum. What a shame. I could really use some of that stuff with Heero. Heero . . . The dark-haired Japanese with the intense prussian blue gaze. I could be forever lost in the darkness of those eyes. It's so dark . . . and so inviting . . .

<*~~~~~~~~~~~~~*>

Heero sat at the main terminal of the OZ installation's central control center working furiously. Two guards lay behind him on the cold floor. They would not be waking up until Heero was long gone. That was, until Heero caught sight of the security monitors. He scanned each screen for movement. Still clear. Suddenly, his gaze stopped on a long braided, dark clothed figure hanging limply from the ceiling in a prison cell. Heero's heart stopped. "Duo . . ." he breathed aloud. Then, as if sensing eyes boring onto him, Duo looked up. His lip was bleeding onto his white collar. Though his bangs sheltered his eyes, Heero knew that Duo was in bad shape. Has he been tortured? If so, has he said anything? Heero waited no longer.

As Heero ran calmly but still quickly and silently through the maze of the installation, he followed the virtual map in his head. Every guard that crossed his path was quickly taken care of. Within minutes, he had entered the prison sector. Heero looked around the corner cautiously. A guard stood watching the door to the appropriate cell. Tearing off an OZ uniform button, Heero threw in down the opposite hall. The guard stirred, raised his gun, and walked down the hall.

Heero glued himself to the wall, waiting, with his gun handle raised. As the guard passed, the gun grip was brought hard against the back of his head. Heero bent to the body and lifted the cell keys.

<*~~~~~~~~~~~~~*>

"Huh? What was that?" Duo said as his eyes suddenly opened. He winced in pain. The poison works quickly. Keys in the lock! Duo looked straight ahead as the door to the dark cell opened, flooding with white light. A dark figure in an OZ uniform looked in the doorway, gun drawn, and pointed it at Duo's heart. Duo's eyes hardened. "So . . . the poison was too slow for you after all. Come on, kill me now and just get it over with! I still won't tell you anything, so pull the trigger already!" He waited for the click of the gun's lever. As the gun was cocked slowly, Duo yelled, "Come on! Kill me! Just pull the trigger!" Duo's angry eyes flashed on the dark figure and his trigger finger froze just short of its limit. Duo wanted to see his prospective executioner's face. He wanted to know who had it in him to coldly extinguish the life of Shinigami, the God of Death. His strained eyes began adjusting to the new light. The form before him began taking shape . . . a face . . . with eyes. Piercing eyes. Duo gasped. "Heero? Heero, is it you?"

Heero lowered his gun slightly.

"It is you!" Dark recognition hit Duo hard, but he would not let Heero know as much. "So. . . . you came to kill me. Fine. Do it now."

Heero raised his gun once more. How can he just hang there like that? I'm here to kill him. And yet, he has a calm grin on his face. He is ready to die.

"Do not hesitate to kill me. I do not fear Death."

"No, you don't." Heero lowered his gun and put it behind his back. He walked toward Duo.

"Decide that you want to beat me to death instead?" Heero grabbed Duo's waist firmly in his strong hands and lifted him. Duo's breath left his lungs quickly and silently. As Heero lowered Duo down, his shackled arms fell about Heero's neck. "Uh . . . sorry, Heero. Guess the poison's stronger than I thought."

Heero removed Duo's arms from around his neck, unlocked the shackles, and spoke, "Can you walk?"

"Oh, sure." Duo said with slurred words, trying to be cheerful. He put his hands on his hips. "I'm as steady as a . . . whoa!" Duo lost his balance and started to fall backwards. Heero grabbed Duo's arms and pulled him close. "Hey, Heero. What're ya doin'?" The alarm sounded and red lights shone.

"Getting you out of here." Heero slung his arm under Duo's shoulders and put Duo's arm behind his neck, supporting him all the way. Their escape was slow and staggering.

Duo stumbled and fell to the ground. Heero reached down for him, but Duo pushed him away. "Come on, Heero. Leave me. I'm ready to die."

"Not until I get some answers."

"Yes, I was tortured. No, I didn't tell them anything, except they could stick it up their . . ." Duo's head felt light. He grabbed his stomach and moaned. "And yes, they kicked the crap out of me and finally, to top things off, poisoned me!"

OZ troops rounded the corner. "We've found the intruder and the prisoner! Stop or . . ." Heero turned around and drew his gun in one fluid movement. As the OZ soldiers raised their guns, he fired. That was the last thing Duo saw as he was plunged into the warm depths of blackness.

<*~~~~~~~~~~~~~*>

The grounds surrounding the house were heavily wooded, providing ample cover for the base nearby where the pilots stored their Gundams. Shrouded in the mist of the winter's night, the forest seemed to take on a new life filled with a light of its own. Directly in front of the house was a large grass-covered clearing that was separated from the house by a paved road. They both also seemed to take on new forms that night. The field was now covered in the dew of moonlight, sparkling like the now absent stars. And the road was a still river separating the warm world from the cold one.

Quatre continued to stare out the window watching for any change lest it come, seizing this eerily beautiful, dampened world from his sight.

Quatre's been standing there for hours just looking out that window, Trowa thought. He senses something. But what?

"Heero should have been back by now."

"Something must have come up," Wufei calculated from his sitting position across the couch with some papers to hold his attention.

Trowa, however, had only one thing . . . one person on his mind. He went to stand next to the blond Arabian currently surrounded in an entrancing blue glow. Is there a full moon tonight? If not tonight, then soon. Strange occurrences are said to accompany their arrival. Trowa rarely believed such things, but he had never believed in that fabled thing called love, either. "You shouldn't worry, Quatre. Heero knows what he is doing," Trowa soothed.

Quatre nodded meekly. "I know."

A strong hand went to rest on his left shoulder. Wufei pretended not to notice. "You should get some rest, Quatre," Trowa said from behind.

He was so close Quatre could feel the heart from Trowa's body burning into his back. Quatre leaned into the soothing touch. "I know, Trowa. It's just that since Duo . . . and now Heero's out there . . . I just have this feeling, that's all, and I don't know what to make of it."

Wufei interjected, "For once, you and I are in complete agreement."

Letting his hand return to his side, Trowa turned his gaze to the back of the usually silent presence in the room. "You too, Wufei?" Trowa wondered. If they both feel uneasy, then . . .

"I see him!"

Trowa turned to follow Quatre's wide eyed gaze while Wufei rushed to join the two window gazing pilots.

Walking steadily toward them engulfed by an unearthly blue light, the hazy black figure began to take definite shape. And there was Heero. Wasn't it? The mop of dark hair appeared to be his enough, and the barely covered legs came from rough and somewhat visually oversized work boots. But his torso and arms seemed bulkier and tightly drawn together. And what was that thing on his left shoulder? A . . . head?

Despite that all three pilots were drawn to the course of speechlessness, Wufei spoke. "Well, that's Heero, all right. But what's that he's carrying?"

"Duo!" Quatre distressed while simotaneously shaking his head widely and forcing a smile. "He found him. Heero actually found him. I don't believe it."

As the dark figure continued closer, it began to take on its two distinct shapes.

"And I don't believe my eyes."

In the walking figure's arms hung a limp figure drawn tightly into a protective, and somewhat hopeful embrace.

Trowa understood. "Believe it, Wufei. After being captured, Duo was most likely . . ."

"Oh God, Duo!" Quatre cried in worry as he rushed out the door into the chill winter's night air, leaving two shocked pilots in his wake. He froze in his tracks on the porch.

<*~~~~~~~~~~~~~*>

Duo's head lie limply against Heero's upper chest and shoulders. Heero's right arm was weighted and looped under Duo's lean legs. The other was wrapped tightly around Duo's body. But both arms had one mission currently. Hold onto Duo and keep his body warm by holding him as tight and as close as necessary.

Contradictory to his determined, emotionless expression, he whispered, "Listen to my heart, Duo. Hear that sound and hold onto it. Stay with me. You can't die now. We're almost home."

<*~~~~~~~~~~~~~*>

As Heero crossed the black river, Quatre asked warily, "Is he hurt, Heero?"

"Interrogated. And he mumbled something about poison."

His eyes grew wide in terror. "Poison?" He shook his head, stepped aside, and motioned to the door. "Take him to his room. I'll get the doctor."

As the protective benefactor of the other Gundam pilots, Quatre always insisted that they be prepared for anything. And this time, his instincts were right on the mark. Running through the corridors of the house, he hoped his efforts weren't too late.

<*~~~~~~~~~~~~~*>

Lying Duo carefully on his bed, Heero quickly surveyed the pilot's condition as he just as cautiously removed his shirt and pants. Underneath lie bruises, both old and newly forming. "Damn. What did those bastards do to you? And where the Hell is the doctor?"

"Right here." The old form entered the room quickly with three pilots in succession and began the examination at Duo's right side. Touching a new age stethoscope to Duo's discolored skin, he noted, "His pulse is weak . . . breathing is quick and shallow . . . and his temperature is above the safe level," he finished as he eyed the device placed next to Duo's flushed skin.

"You mean . . ." Quatre began cautiously.

"I'll need to do some blood work," he said as he drew some blood.

"How long will that take?" Heero asked suddenly and forcefully from the opposite side of the room.

The startled doctor stared incredulously at the crass pilot. "I can't be sure. It depends on the poison and at what time it was used. Both of which we don't know."

Heero clenched his fists. "OZ's doing. Crosscheck your findings with a list of OZ supplies if need be. Just find the antidote and find it now."

The doctor nodded nervously. "Of course."

"Is there anything that we can do?" Quatre pondered.

"For now, just try and get that fever down to a safer level. Tell me, when did he first start showing signs of a fever?"

"After being given the poison, I found him and he was hot even then." Heero reiterated.

"I see. Well, even if I find an antidote, the fever could still . . ."

"Kill him? Or cause brain damage?"

Quatre's physician nodded. "Yes."

"Understood."

"Right. Wufei, you go help the doctor," Quatre ordered as the doctor exited the crowded room. Wufei nodded and left quickly. Scared to death but not wanting to show it for Heero's agitated self, he added, "Trowa, you and Heero help me cool Duo down. Trowa, let's get some water, sheets, and towels."

"And me?" Heero asked while dropping his hands hopelessly at his sides.

Quatre added tenderly, "Just stay with him."

<*~~~~~~~~~~~~~*>

"Is it working?" Heero asked suddenly endless moments later, still standing at Duo's bedside.

Quatre looked up from Duo's right side. "I don't know . . . he's sweating so much . . ."

"I'll take over, Quatre," Trowa offered. "You check with the doctor."

"No need. I'm here and I have it," the doctor said brandishing a large, full syringe.

"Will it work?" Quatre asked.

"Well . . ."

"Administer the antidote already," Heero ordered coldly.

"I was just about to . . ."

"Please, don't mind him, doctor. Continue. Trowa . . ." Quatre looked to him for help.

"I think you should come with me, Heero . . ." Trowa began.

"No. I'm staying," he stated while keeping his eyes on Trowa.

"Just let the doctor help him, Heero," Trowa reasoned.

Heero eyed the doctor's every movement. Clenching fists tight enough to draw blood, he pushed out the words intensely. "If anything happens to him . . ."

"There, it's done." He had used to distraction to inject the fluid into Duo's arm. "Now all you have to do is wait."

"That's it?" He released his grip in a sighing rush. "Isn't there something else you can do to help him?" All of the rooms conscious occupants could hear the note of desperation tinging his quiet voice.

"I've done all I can do for him. It's all up to him . . ."

"A c-coma?" Quatre stuttered.

"Virtually, yes. Either way, he's fighting his own battle."

"And what if he decides to give up?!" Heero challenged.

"Then you must give him hope. I know only science. I can do nothing more. But you . . . his friends, can and must be there for him. All we can do is wait."

"But what about the fever?" Quatre asked anxiously.

"Keep working on it. It will take time."

Heero's unseemingly worried gaze darted to that of the tired, old doctor once more. "But how much time?"

"That is up to Duo."

<*~~~~~~~~~~~~~*>

So it's up to Duo, Heero thought. Hn. That baka would sooner embrace Death than . . . what? But he embraces life . . . and still speaks of himself only as Death.

Heero checked Duo's forehead. Still hot. Redampening the cloth, he began once more to mop at the sweat on his brow.

Baka, how am I supposed to get you cleaned up if you keep sweating? Heero sighed mentally. Keep fighting, Duo. Keep fighting. No matter what, we all must keep fighting.

Tenderly Heero wiped away the dirt and sweat of the days past. Exactly how surprised would they be if they saw me doing this? Wufei would likely jump out of his own skin. And Trowa and Quatre . . . well, even they'd be pleasantly surprised. As for your face . . . Heero smirked to himself. I wouldn't miss that for the world.

To be continued.

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Ugh, I know, it's just sickening. *shrugs* What do you expect? It was my real first fic, but it just needed so much tweaking (an understatement) that I couldn't even send it to someone to read until two years later. (I started writing this fic on May 1, 2000, so, yes, it is now over two years old) Please send all c&c to: duonotsuin@yahoo.com