Goodbye LJ...

[windandwater]

This is just to make it official for those who don't know, but I'm leaving LJ completely. For the rest of this week at least. Tomorrow is the Bar Exam and it runs for three days, so don't expect to see me about at all until Thursday night. Or even until the weekend since I plan on spending Thursday after the Bar drunk and crying. No online time for me at all. *whines* It will be hard, but I know I can do it.

So, because I'm a total h0r like that, I am declaring this to be a spam post. Go ahead. Run wild! Give me fics, give me links, give me pics, just babble to your heart's content and rape my inbox so I have something to see when I finally DO come back to the wonderful world of LJ. I don't even care if you write me a drabble and post it one word at a time. XD;

Though, I've tried to make a spam post before and it failed a bit miserably, so I don't have very high expectations this time around. Feel free to prove me wrong though!

♥

Comments

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

A touch of water on his face startled Duo out of his memories, and he glanced up in time to see the next drops of rain fall. They fell in single drops, at first, before the clouds abruptly opened up and poured out a steady curtain of rain. Within a matter of seconds it soaked through his clothes, and saturated his hair, running down his face and hands. Duo licked his lips, and tasted a drop of rain; it was cool, and sweet, and Duo smiled as he turned his face into the rain and closed his eyes, feeling it fall.

Footsteps cut through the rhythmic pattering of the rain, and Duo looked up again as Heero hurried back through the lot. “Sorry, Duo, I didn’t know it was going to rain. I’ll get you back to the tent -- you’re soaked --”

Duo smiled wryly, and ran a hand through his hair, scattering drops of water. “It’s all right, Heero. It needed washing, anyway.” The rainwater sluiced over his skin, and Duo began to shiver; the water was a good feeling, but the cold was not. Heero noticed, of course, and with a slight growl of annoyance, scooped Duo up in his arms and started back towards his quarters. The rain was cold, but Heero was warm, his chest, his arms around Duo.

Once back in the tent, Heero hastily stripped sopping wet robe off of Duo, wringing the water out of the fabric before draping it over the back of the chair. He wrapped a blanket around Duo’s thin, shivering frame, both to dry off the last of the water and to warm Duo up. Heero completely ignored the water runneling down his own skin, concentrating instead on attempting to dry Duo’s hair. “I need to do something about this,” he mused aloud, attempting to comb out the tangles with his fingers. “It just keeps getting in the way.”

Duo was silent for a moment, before commenting. “When I was -- younger, I used to put it back... in a braid. But I can’t reach back any more.”

“Braid?” Heero repeated, unfamiliar with the word. Duo took a small lock of the hair, and demonstrated, pulling it into three sections and retwisting them together. Heero watched the motions, frowning; there was something very familiar about the process... of course! Heero reached into his pocket and pulled out the half-forgotten string braid that Trowa had given him days ago. How had Trowa... of course Trowa would have known, Heero berated himself. He had seen Duo before, and remembered. Heero studied the string for a moment more, familiarizing himself with the pattern, before nodding decisively and moving to sit behind Duo. By now, the motions of brushing out Duo’s hair was familiar and soothing, and Heero lost himself in it as he tackled the challenge of putting the chestnut mass into some kind of order.

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

“What are you thinking about?” Heero asked abruptly, shattering the meditative silence that had settled into the air. Duo let his eyes fall half-closed, focusing on nothing in particular as he paused, setting his thoughts in order, then spoke.

“I was thinking that if I tried to talk that way to one of my soldiers, he would have boxed my ears,” he replied. Heero tensed behind him, coming to focus almost painfully on Duo’s words as he continued. “They didn’t follow me because I ‘outranked’ them, or because some God had come down and told them to obey my orders. But they believed in me... they trusted me to know what to do, to do the most damage to Oz and take the fewest deaths I could.

“They followed me, but I looked up to them as much as they looked up to me. We knew that we could depend on each other, because we all wanted the same thing. Revenge. On Oz. For what they did to Maxwell.” His eyes burned indigo fire, an old, old blaze of hatred that had been lit when he was only seven years old. Behind him, Heero couldn’t see the fire, but he felt a hint of it echoing throughout Duo’s crippled body, and sheer disbelief froze any words before they could leave his throat. How could Duo still find the strength to feel that much, after everything he’d been through? How could he still have fire left, after all this time?

What was this boy?

Heero finished with the braid, at last, and used the piece of string Trowa had given him to tie it off. He held it in his hands for a moment, running his fingers over the smooth design of crimps and ridges, the way it twisted into itself over and over again in a complex pattern, before letting it slip through his grasp and rest against Duo’s back. “Do you remember who you are, now?” he asked finally, keeping his voice gentle. The braid bobbed up and down as Duo nodded, and turned to face Heero.

“I am Duo... Duo Maxwell.” He paused for a moment, as if searching through the unfamiliar territory of his own mind. The overwhelming dark crowded at the edge of his consciousness, but he pulled away from it, avoided those memories, pushing through them only long enough to remind himself that they were only memories, only past, and could no longer hurt him.

“I am the God of Death.” Ore wa Shinigami desu. “And I...” Ore wa...

“I have returned from Hell.”

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

The bad news came the next day, in the form of an urgent messenger for Colonel Yuy. Heero took the dispatch from General Chang and dismissed the runner with a curt nod; unfolding the scrap of paper from its protective twist, he ran his eyes over it and cursed. Reading it more carefully the second time, he swore again, with more feeling.

“Did somebody die?” Duo asked, looking up. He saw the expression on Heero’s face, and his levity quickly died. “What’s wrong?”

Heero’s mind began racing, linking up the words of the message with their meanings, and the meanings with their connotations. Wufei had just received reports that an outside force was funneling weapons and money into the Oz military. Oz was a big country, but not a rich one; constant wars had depleted its treasury enough that their troops were chronically undertrained and underequipped. This gave the Alliance troops a desperately needed edge against Oz’s vastly superior numbers, but if a third party were breaking the embargo and supplying Oz, then the balance could shift in a serious hurry. The potential disasters forming in Heero’s mind were making him dizzy. But what country would dare to aid Oz, knowing that their land might be the next on Oz’s list of conquests? Every kingdom not already involved in the war was so careful to remain neutral; any country to break that neutrality would be immediately set upon by the other neutrals. Who would dare? Who...

“Heero?” Duo repeated, a little louder. “What’s...”

With difficulty, still more than a little stunned, Heero managed to grate out a reply. “Bad news. I must go talk with General Chang -- right away.”

“All right,” Duo said softly, worry drawing across his face. “Is there anything I can do?”

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

The bad news came the next day, in the form of an urgent messenger for Colonel Yuy. Heero took the dispatch from General Chang and dismissed the runner with a curt nod; unfolding the scrap of paper from its protective twist, he ran his eyes over it and cursed. Reading it more carefully the second time, he swore again, with more feeling.

“Did somebody die?” Duo asked, looking up. He saw the expression on Heero’s face, and his levity quickly died. “What’s wrong?”

Heero’s mind began racing, linking up the words of the message with their meanings, and the meanings with their connotations. Wufei had just received reports that an outside force was funneling weapons and money into the Oz military. Oz was a big country, but not a rich one; constant wars had depleted its treasury enough that their troops were chronically undertrained and underequipped. This gave the Alliance troops a desperately needed edge against Oz’s vastly superior numbers, but if a third party were breaking the embargo and supplying Oz, then the balance could shift in a serious hurry. The potential disasters forming in Heero’s mind were making him dizzy. But what country would dare to aid Oz, knowing that their land might be the next on Oz’s list of conquests? Every kingdom not already involved in the war was so careful to remain neutral; any country to break that neutrality would be immediately set upon by the other neutrals. Who would dare? Who...

“Heero?” Duo repeated, a little louder. “What’s...”

With difficulty, still more than a little stunned, Heero managed to grate out a reply. “Bad news. I must go talk with General Chang -- right away.”

“All right,” Duo said softly, worry drawing across his face. “Is there anything I can do?”

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

The thoughts burst into Heero’s mind before he could stop them, horrible realizations dawning one by one in an unforgivable train of logic. Whoever had sold out to Oz must have sent envoys. It would have had to be recent, within the last year. Or two. Someone who had been kept close to Treize’s side might have heard something. Seen something. Someone like Duo. Might remember --

Heero wrenched his thoughts away from that track. “I hope not,” he muttered, and turned his heel to exit the tent with Duo’s confused questions trailing in his wake.



“Who do you think it is?” Heero questioned, watching his commander pace.

“Gods only know, Heero. One of the larger countries, who seems to think they can stand against Oz by themselves? One of the smaller countries, hoping that Oz wouldn’t attack an ally? Or maybe it’s no single kingdom, but a traitor to his own country intent on making money from the war in any way possible? The possibilities are endless!” Wufei complained, his voice brimming with tension and frustration.

“It doesn’t seem so likely to be an individual,” Heero commented, folding his hands on the table. “He’d have to be extremely wealthy, and frankly I don’t see what he would hope to gain out of it.”

“Perhaps one of the Eastern caravan masters...” Wufei began, then trailed off and shook his head. “But they’re staying strictly neutral; all of them know better than to interfere the embargo.” He made another circuit across the floor, before slumping into his own chair. “How could this have gone undetected for so long, Heero?”

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

“I wish I knew,” Heero sighed, smoothing out the rumpled piece of paper with it’s damning words. “If this has really been going on for a year and a half, we ought to know more, but... it’s as if there were no evidence at all.”

Wufei frowned deeply, his brow creased in sudden thought, tapping his fingers on the tabletop. “And that just should not be possible,” he mused, significantly. “Not for two countries to be in intimate contact for so long, and leave no records behind. Either someone is going to inhuman lengths to keep a secret, or...”

“Or it happens to be someone we don’t have a tap on,” Heero finished for him. “Someone we’d never suspect, or just haven’t been able to get information for.”

“The southern states,” Wufei said suddenly. “Our network has always been spread thin there...”

“The distance involved is just too great,” Heero said defensively. “They’re on the other side of Oz from us.”

“I’m not throwing blame, Heero, but you’re right. And... That slimy bastard Barton is just the sort of snake that would get in bed with Treize!” Wufei said, sitting upright in his chair.

“Duke Barton?” Heero echoed. “You think it’s him?”

“It very well might be, Heero!” Wufei said excitedly. “If Dekim Barton has been making deals with Oz...”

“The other neutrals would never stand for it,” Heero said quietly. “Even Sanc couldn’t stay passive if Barton joined with Oz; he’s too powerful.”

“I know, Heero, and that’s why we have to know! This could very well be our opportunity to pull the fence-sitters into the Alliance...” Wufei shook his head in frustration. “This is only speculation. We have no proof that this Zechs Marquise is connected with the Bartons in any way. We need a witness.”

Heero stayed silent, but began to tense. Wufei turned a heated glare on him.

“Well, Heero?”

“Well what, sir?” Heero said flatly, knowing perfectly well what Wufei wanted.

Wufei’s eyes narrowed, his mouth tightened in annoyance. “Don’t play games, Yuy. You have a potential source of information.”

“Sir, he’s not...” Heero began, but Wufei slammed his fist into the table.

“Damn it, Yuy, I have had enough of your strange obsession with this boy! This is more important than your concerns. If he’s been close to Treize, then he might have seen something --”

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

“Might have!” Heero interrupted. “What makes you think --”

“If he has no information on Zechs Marquise,” Wufei snapped, “then he’s useless enough that I can see no further reason for my army to waste resources on him.”

Heero stiffened in his seat at the threat, his mouth gone dry. He tried to speak, to make some further protest, but Wufei glared at him from eyes black with tension and anger, and words deserted him. It was for the good of the mission, he reminded himself. It had to be done. “All right, Wufei. I’ll bring him here.”



“Just a few questions, Duo,” Heero said softly, his voice calm but his body language radiating tense heat like a furnace. He glanced back over his shoulder to where the General paced back and forth like a caged tiger. The legends said that Chang Wufei’s warrior clan carried the blood of dragons; looking at him now, Heero almost expected his friend to breathe smoke. A muscle in his jaw twitched, but he clamped down on it; this had to be done. He didn’t want Wufei anywhere near Duo... but he could not stop it now.

Duo looked at him, and beyond him to the impatient General. He wanted to help Heero if he could, in any way he could, but the tension of the room communicated to him and he felt a nervous coil begin to form in his stomach. He tried to speak with a mouth gone dry, and had to lick his lips before he was able to speak. “All right,” he managed; one hand unconsciously clutching at his braid, he twitched an unconvincing smile at Heero. Heero took another breath to speak, but Wufei’s voice from behind him cut him off.

“Can we get started some time today?” Wufei growled.

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

“Of course,” Heero responded, and, with one last look at Duo, he stepped aside. Reluctantly, he moved down to his chair at the end of the table, leaving the way clear between his ward and his friend.

Wufei’s coal-smouldering gaze locked on Duo, and the younger boy couldn’t contain a flinch at the anger of it; one of Wufei’s lips curled slightly at this display of weakness. “For the last two years, you have been living among the Oz soldiers, is this correct?” he started without preamble.

Duo nodded, and backed up his assent verbally. “Yes. That’s right,” he said. An involuntary shudder ran up and down his back, at the memories, but he managed to control it before the older man could see.

“And most of that time, you spent with Treize Khushrenada?” Wufei continued, his voice and his eyes hard.

“Yes.” Duo swallowed hard. Dammit, it was only the second question of the interview and he was already tense as a wire. He had to relax.

“Do you recall hearing the Oz soldiers speaking of a man named Zechs Marquise?”

Duo was silent. Heero shot a glance between Wufei and Duo, and half-rose from his seat. “Sit down, Yuy!” Wufei snapped. “Well? Do you?”

“I’m thinking!” Duo exclaimed, struggling down on the edge of panic. “Let me remember... I’m trying to think...”

The words were said only to buy him time; he was not reaching through his memories, but trying to get hold of his racing thoughts. The darkness in his mind crept steadily closer; desperately, Duo closed his eyes, and almost without conscious thought the memory came to his mind and flowed out his lips. “Yes. Yes, I remember. Sixteen months ago...” He paused, struggling to pin down the association. Zechs Marquise, Marquise... “A group of men were -- the water game. One of them mentioned a new -- a new envoy coming to talk to Treize. Some kind of higher-up, he said, calling himself the Lightning Count. Marquise.”

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

“Of course,” Heero responded, and, with one last look at Duo, he stepped aside. Reluctantly, he moved down to his chair at the end of the table, leaving the way clear between his ward and his friend.

Wufei’s coal-smouldering gaze locked on Duo, and the younger boy couldn’t contain a flinch at the anger of it; one of Wufei’s lips curled slightly at this display of weakness. “For the last two years, you have been living among the Oz soldiers, is this correct?” he started without preamble.

Duo nodded, and backed up his assent verbally. “Yes. That’s right,” he said. An involuntary shudder ran up and down his back, at the memories, but he managed to control it before the older man could see.

“And most of that time, you spent with Treize Khushrenada?” Wufei continued, his voice and his eyes hard.

“Yes.” Duo swallowed hard. Dammit, it was only the second question of the interview and he was already tense as a wire. He had to relax.

“Do you recall hearing the Oz soldiers speaking of a man named Zechs Marquise?”

Duo was silent. Heero shot a glance between Wufei and Duo, and half-rose from his seat. “Sit down, Yuy!” Wufei snapped. “Well? Do you?”

“I’m thinking!” Duo exclaimed, struggling down on the edge of panic. “Let me remember... I’m trying to think...”

The words were said only to buy him time; he was not reaching through his memories, but trying to get hold of his racing thoughts. The darkness in his mind crept steadily closer; desperately, Duo closed his eyes, and almost without conscious thought the memory came to his mind and flowed out his lips. “Yes. Yes, I remember. Sixteen months ago...” He paused, struggling to pin down the association. Zechs Marquise, Marquise... “A group of men were -- the water game. One of them mentioned a new -- a new envoy coming to talk to Treize. Some kind of higher-up, he said, calling himself the Lightning Count. Marquise.”

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

“Did they say where he was an envoy from?” Wufei said intently, ignoring the boy’s obvious distress.

Duo desperately ran the fragments of the conversation through his mind. “N... no...” he whispered. “They didn’t know where. They said nobody knew.”

Wufei cursed, loudly, in his own language; Duo couldn’t recognize the words, but flinched at the expressive tone. His hands wrapped white-knuckled around the arms of the wooden chair. Wufei paced for several moments, and Duo sat still and trembling, not daring to look at Heero, not daring to believe it might be over. His hopes were dashed a moment later when Wufei turned back to him, though, and ground out another hard question.

“Did you ever see him actually come to the camp?” Wufei demanded.

“Wufei, you --” Heero’s voice growled from his chair, but Wufei cut across it immediately.

“Shut up and stay out of this, Yuy, that’s an order!” He wheeled back to the boy in the chair. “He had to have visited General Khushrenada some time in the last six months. You claim to have been close to Khushrenada. Did you ever see him?”

Panic coursed through Duo, spasming his muscles, clogging his throat. The darkness was coming closer and closer to the front of his mind; Wufei’s furious impatience forced it out of his subconscious. His violet eyes widened, as visions began to burst onto his consciousness. The answer was dragged out of him, painfully, unwillingly; he almost could not recognize his own voice. “He came once, to Treize’s tent... brought one guard, stayed outside... he was in the tent... with Treize...”

“What did he look like?” Wufei hissed, coming closer and closer to the stricken boy. “Describe him for me.”

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

Duo heard his own voice as if from a distance -- no -- from a memory? He’d only heard himself speak in that tone once. “Don’t know... he wore a mask, gloves...” Two years ago. “Silver mask... couldn’t see his face...” Not again -- please -- not again...

Wufei snarled, oblivious to the tumult in Duo’s mind. “Did he have a seal? Anywhere among his clothing?” He loomed over Duo, now, silhouetted against the lamplight. “Tell me! A lion and a snake, on a field of spades?”

Why were they asking him so many questions? He didn’t know. He’d already told them he didn’t know. Why wouldn’t they believe him? Why didn’t they... stop... “I didn’t... look,” he gasped, sweat trickling down his trembling arms. “I don’t remember, I don’t remember...”

Wufei lost his temper completely. His hands slammed down on the sides of Duo’s chair, leaning over the smaller boy. “That’s not good enough, damn it! Answer me!”

Duo snapped. His tenuous hold on the present, on reality, gave way entirely, leaving him alone and terrified in the past. “I don’t know who they are!” he shrieked, bringing his hands up to shield his face. “If I knew I would tell you, I’ll tell you everything, I’ll tell you whatever you want, just stop it -- please -- no more!”

Shocked, Wufei reeled backwards, but Duo’s eyes no longer saw him. He screamed, and pleaded with unseen assailants, in tones of such agony that left Wufei stunned. “Yuy!” he gasped, but Heero had already leapt from his chair and reached Duo’s side in an instant. Heero grabbed Duo’s shoulders and shook them, hoping to bring the boy out of it, but Duo cringed from his touch and fought his grip until the chair toppled and spilled him to the floor, where he lay, inhaling in deep gasps and exhaling in tormented whimpers. Wufei stared at him, stupefied. “What in the seven hells happened to him, Yuy?” he demanded shakily.

Heero’s eyes narrowed to slits of rage. “If it wasn’t perfectly obvious, Chang, you’ve managed to push him into a torture flashback!” he snarled. “Aren’t you proud of yourself?”

“What?” His eyes went back to the shaking, broken figure on the floor, and a sick sense of guilt began to mingle with the shock. “But I didn’t -- I had no idea he was--”

“Where in hell did you think those scars came from? Dancing through the roses?” Heero shook his head in disgust, and quickly scooped Duo up into his arms. “I’ve got to get him calmed down, before he hurts himself -- but be assured, Chang, we will be discussing this later!” With that threat, he strode from the tent, Duo cradled protectively in his arms, sparing not another glance for his commander.

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

Duo heard his own voice as if from a distance -- no -- from a memory? He’d only heard himself speak in that tone once. “Don’t know... he wore a mask, gloves...” Two years ago. “Silver mask... couldn’t see his face...” Not again -- please -- not again...

Wufei snarled, oblivious to the tumult in Duo’s mind. “Did he have a seal? Anywhere among his clothing?” He loomed over Duo, now, silhouetted against the lamplight. “Tell me! A lion and a snake, on a field of spades?”

Why were they asking him so many questions? He didn’t know. He’d already told them he didn’t know. Why wouldn’t they believe him? Why didn’t they... stop... “I didn’t... look,” he gasped, sweat trickling down his trembling arms. “I don’t remember, I don’t remember...”

Wufei lost his temper completely. His hands slammed down on the sides of Duo’s chair, leaning over the smaller boy. “That’s not good enough, damn it! Answer me!”

Duo snapped. His tenuous hold on the present, on reality, gave way entirely, leaving him alone and terrified in the past. “I don’t know who they are!” he shrieked, bringing his hands up to shield his face. “If I knew I would tell you, I’ll tell you everything, I’ll tell you whatever you want, just stop it -- please -- no more!”

Shocked, Wufei reeled backwards, but Duo’s eyes no longer saw him. He screamed, and pleaded with unseen assailants, in tones of such agony that left Wufei stunned. “Yuy!” he gasped, but Heero had already leapt from his chair and reached Duo’s side in an instant. Heero grabbed Duo’s shoulders and shook them, hoping to bring the boy out of it, but Duo cringed from his touch and fought his grip until the chair toppled and spilled him to the floor, where he lay, inhaling in deep gasps and exhaling in tormented whimpers. Wufei stared at him, stupefied. “What in the seven hells happened to him, Yuy?” he demanded shakily.

Heero’s eyes narrowed to slits of rage. “If it wasn’t perfectly obvious, Chang, you’ve managed to push him into a torture flashback!” he snarled. “Aren’t you proud of yourself?”

“What?” His eyes went back to the shaking, broken figure on the floor, and a sick sense of guilt began to mingle with the shock. “But I didn’t -- I had no idea he was--”

“Where in hell did you think those scars came from? Dancing through the roses?” Heero shook his head in disgust, and quickly scooped Duo up into his arms. “I’ve got to get him calmed down, before he hurts himself -- but be assured, Chang, we will be discussing this later!” With that threat, he strode from the tent, Duo cradled protectively in his arms, sparing not another glance for his commander.

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

It took nearly half an hour to bring Duo out of the terrible trance of remembrance he had fallen into, once returned to the safe haven of Heero’s tent. During that endless half hour, Heero remained stubbornly by his side; holding Duo as he cried and fought against his memories, murmuring to Duo in what he hoped was a comforting, familiar tone. At last it was over, with Duo slumped panting and shaking in his arms, and they sat for a long minute in exhausted silence.

Heero stirred first, gently moving Duo from his arms to the bed. In a hoarse, abused voice, Duo was the first to speak. “Heero -- I’m sorry --”

“Don’t be sorry,” Heero interrupted him gently, running one hand down Duo’s arm to grasp his own hand. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I knew you weren’t ready for that, but I didn’t expect Wufei to be as harsh as he was.”

Duo shuddered involuntarily, and forced himself to be still. “It’s not your fault,” he retorted. “I should have had better control... I just c-couldn’t --”

“Hush, Duo,” Heero told him, gently stroking his free hand down Duo’s back. “It’s all right.”

They sat like that in silence for a few minutes, before Duo spoke again. “There wasn’t any seal.”

“What?” Heero blinked, and pulled back from the half-embrace to look at Duo.

Duo couldn’t quite meet his eyes as he repeated, “Anywhere on his clothing. I couldn’t see any like he described.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Heero said firmly. “Clothing can be changed, easily.”

“I guess so,” Duo replied. A shiver ran along his spine, but faded before touching his limbs. Heero would never have felt it if not for the contact between them.

“Do you remember what he looked like?” Heero asked softly, continuing to stroke Duo’s back reassuringly. “Tell me if you can.”

“He was tall... and lean...” Duo closed his eyes trying to remember. “Pale skin, what I could see of it. And I saw a little of his hair... it was blond, and light. Blue eyes,” he finished, opening his own to the present. He looked up at Heero. “Lighter than yours.”

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

Heero frowned, processing the information. There were very few light-skinned, light-haired southerners; that coloration was found almost exclusively in the north. Still, Heero supposed, if there could be blond, blue-eyed Arabs, there could be light-colored Southerners.

He looked down at Duo, sagging with exhaustion in his arms. “Duo,” he called, getting the other’s attention. “Why don’t you try and get some rest now?”

Duo’s eyes flew wide open, and he shook his head in the negative. He felt nervous, unsteady, shaken. “I don’t want to go to sleep.”

Heero’s eyes hardened. “You’re exhausted, Duo. You have to sleep, all right? I’m sure you’ll feel better once you’ve rested.”

Duo hesitated, unsure, but Heero was adamant, and after a few moments he nodded acquiescence. “I’ll try, anyway,” he compromised. “But I don’t think... I’ll be able to sleep just now...”

He was wrong, however. Within a few moments after Heero had settled him into the blankets, the fatigue overwhelmed him, and dragged him down.

Heero watched him sleep for a while; it had become something of a habit for him, actually, to sit by the bedside and keep vigil. Somewhere very early on it had stopped being a chore for him -- instead, he found himself endlessly fascinated by the sleeping boy’s face and figure in repose. Duo was so beautiful when he was asleep -- so beautiful when he was awake. Heero could have spent a century watching him, and never get tired of it.

Reluctantly, though, Heero dragged himself away. As much as he might want to, he couldn’t stay to watch Duo sleep right now. He had to return to speak with Wufei; his commander’s destructive behavior towards Duo had to be stopped, before he did the injured boy further damage. Heero sighed softly, and reached out to stroke Duo’s face gently before he rose from his chair and exited the tent. Several consecutive days of growls and death threats to any overcurious soldiers had finally had the desired effect; no-one would enter the tent, or even the area, if Heero was not there. He left, assured of Duo’s safety.

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

A few minutes after Heero’s departure, Duo’s sleep began to change. He shifted restlessly in the blankets, limbs twitching before they stilled in the unforgiving grip of a dream. A tiny whimper escaped his lips; the demons that had been called up from his memories still crowded close about his mind, turning his dreams into nightmares that had once been all too real.



+++

The fire game.



The sobbing in his ears made a harsh but steady counterpart to the erratic beating of his own heart, and in the background, a rising and falling sizzling noise of living flames. Sweat, like tears, ran down his skin and burned his flesh where they mingled with the blood. His hands twisted desperately, uselessly, at the wire that bound his hands above him, tied to the bar so high above his head that his bare feet could hardly touch the dirt floor beneath him. The wires bit into his skin, sending fresh blood warming over his cold arms with every involuntary move he made.

“Now.” A voice cut across the low roaring of the fire, the smooth, hateful voice. “Let’s try this again, why don’t we? And this time, you can tell us what we want to know.”

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

A few minutes after Heero’s departure, Duo’s sleep began to change. He shifted restlessly in the blankets, limbs twitching before they stilled in the unforgiving grip of a dream. A tiny whimper escaped his lips; the demons that had been called up from his memories still crowded close about his mind, turning his dreams into nightmares that had once been all too real.



+++

The fire game.



The sobbing in his ears made a harsh but steady counterpart to the erratic beating of his own heart, and in the background, a rising and falling sizzling noise of living flames. Sweat, like tears, ran down his skin and burned his flesh where they mingled with the blood. His hands twisted desperately, uselessly, at the wire that bound his hands above him, tied to the bar so high above his head that his bare feet could hardly touch the dirt floor beneath him. The wires bit into his skin, sending fresh blood warming over his cold arms with every involuntary move he made.

“Now.” A voice cut across the low roaring of the fire, the smooth, hateful voice. “Let’s try this again, why don’t we? And this time, you can tell us what we want to know.”

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

The silhouette of an arm crossed in front of the firelight to take something from the grate in its hand. A figure detached from the surrounding shadows and walked towards him, the soft, almost deliberate footsteps sounding in time with the pulse in his ears. He moaned in horror as the orange glow appeared in front of his eyes, moving his head in unconscious denial. “no... please...”

“You don’t want this, do you?” the faceless voice mocked, holding out the little bit of Hell for him to see. He shook his head frantically, the tears squeezing from the corners of his eyes and boiling down his skin. Cruel, hard laughter was his response, as the shadowy figure moved only closer. “Then all you have to do is answer. Who are the other rebels? Who leads them? Where are they?”

“I don’t know,” he whimpered. “I don’t know any other... resistance fighters. We... we were the only ones...” Waves of terror flared through him, shaking him in his bonds; he knew, he knew that the words were not the ones the man wanted to hear. But they were the only ones he had to give. “I don’t know any others...”

“Pathetic,” the shadow spat cruelly. “You act like you have something to fight for, like you have something to protect. You’re worthless. You’re nothing. Why do you bother to conceal the truth?”

A torrent of babble rose to his lips, protesting his innocence, denying that he concealed, protected, fought for anything. But they, too, were not the words the man wanted to hear, and so they went unheard.

“That’s not good enough!” the voice growled angrily. “You’ll change your mind, sooner or later; you’ll tell us what we want to know.”

And then the thing touched him, and he screamed, and screamed, and barely even felt the lesser searing agony where the wires sliced through skin and flesh as they held him. He screamed until his voice broke, and his throat bled, and blood filled his mouth along with scalding tears and the taste of his own helplessness. He never lied, never; he wasn’t lying now. He knew nothing, he told them he knew nothing; why wouldn’t they believe him? Couldn’t they see that he would tell them anything, anything he knew, if only they would stop? Couldn’t they see that he was already broken?

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

The silhouette of an arm crossed in front of the firelight to take something from the grate in its hand. A figure detached from the surrounding shadows and walked towards him, the soft, almost deliberate footsteps sounding in time with the pulse in his ears. He moaned in horror as the orange glow appeared in front of his eyes, moving his head in unconscious denial. “no... please...”

“You don’t want this, do you?” the faceless voice mocked, holding out the little bit of Hell for him to see. He shook his head frantically, the tears squeezing from the corners of his eyes and boiling down his skin. Cruel, hard laughter was his response, as the shadowy figure moved only closer. “Then all you have to do is answer. Who are the other rebels? Who leads them? Where are they?”

“I don’t know,” he whimpered. “I don’t know any other... resistance fighters. We... we were the only ones...” Waves of terror flared through him, shaking him in his bonds; he knew, he knew that the words were not the ones the man wanted to hear. But they were the only ones he had to give. “I don’t know any others...”

“Pathetic,” the shadow spat cruelly. “You act like you have something to fight for, like you have something to protect. You’re worthless. You’re nothing. Why do you bother to conceal the truth?”

A torrent of babble rose to his lips, protesting his innocence, denying that he concealed, protected, fought for anything. But they, too, were not the words the man wanted to hear, and so they went unheard.

“That’s not good enough!” the voice growled angrily. “You’ll change your mind, sooner or later; you’ll tell us what we want to know.”

And then the thing touched him, and he screamed, and screamed, and barely even felt the lesser searing agony where the wires sliced through skin and flesh as they held him. He screamed until his voice broke, and his throat bled, and blood filled his mouth along with scalding tears and the taste of his own helplessness. He never lied, never; he wasn’t lying now. He knew nothing, he told them he knew nothing; why wouldn’t they believe him? Couldn’t they see that he would tell them anything, anything he knew, if only they would stop? Couldn’t they see that he was already broken?

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

+++



“Are you sure he was telling the truth?” Wufei questioned skeptically.

Heero glared at his commander. “Duo doesn’t lie. What would he have to gain by it?”

Wufei shrugged irritably. “It just doesn’t fit. The man he described couldn’t have been a Southerner...”

“Well, if you didn’t see fit to confide your theory in him, then it isn’t his fault the data doesn’t match up with it,” Heero snapped.

“Then the whole exercise was worse than useless,” Wufei returned. “Now we’re back to where we began again...”

“Then perhaps he was doing you a favor, not that your stubborn pride would ever admit it! By the Gods, Wufei, what did you hope to get from him?” Heero demanded. “I am thoroughly disgusted by this unreasonable hostility you hold towards Duo! You’ve practically been searching for an excuse to brand him a threat ever since I took him in!”

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

+++



“Are you sure he was telling the truth?” Wufei questioned skeptically.

Heero glared at his commander. “Duo doesn’t lie. What would he have to gain by it?”

Wufei shrugged irritably. “It just doesn’t fit. The man he described couldn’t have been a Southerner...”

“Well, if you didn’t see fit to confide your theory in him, then it isn’t his fault the data doesn’t match up with it,” Heero snapped.

“Then the whole exercise was worse than useless,” Wufei returned. “Now we’re back to where we began again...”

“Then perhaps he was doing you a favor, not that your stubborn pride would ever admit it! By the Gods, Wufei, what did you hope to get from him?” Heero demanded. “I am thoroughly disgusted by this unreasonable hostility you hold towards Duo! You’ve practically been searching for an excuse to brand him a threat ever since I took him in!”

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

+++



They knew.

They knew he was telling the truth.

They knew there weren’t any other rebels.

They just didn’t care.



+++

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

A scowl etched itself deeply on Wufei’s face, as the words sank in, but he had no counter to them. Instead, he turned away, silently. Heero struggled to put a lid on his seething anger; he could read his answer from his friend’s closed, defensive posture, the guilt that he didn’t want to admit. Just for the moment, he held a position of strength over the General, but if backed Wufei into a corner, then Wufei’s stubborn pride would lash out at him.

“I understand the pressure you’ve been under lately,” Heero finally said, in a much calmer tone, “and I admit that I... have not been giving you as much assistance as I ought. But that is my fault, not Duo’s, and it in no way makes him a threat to us. If anything, Wufei, he is an ally, not a danger! He hates Oz more than you and I combined ever could!”



+++

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

A scowl etched itself deeply on Wufei’s face, as the words sank in, but he had no counter to them. Instead, he turned away, silently. Heero struggled to put a lid on his seething anger; he could read his answer from his friend’s closed, defensive posture, the guilt that he didn’t want to admit. Just for the moment, he held a position of strength over the General, but if backed Wufei into a corner, then Wufei’s stubborn pride would lash out at him.

“I understand the pressure you’ve been under lately,” Heero finally said, in a much calmer tone, “and I admit that I... have not been giving you as much assistance as I ought. But that is my fault, not Duo’s, and it in no way makes him a threat to us. If anything, Wufei, he is an ally, not a danger! He hates Oz more than you and I combined ever could!”



+++

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

+++



The dream swept inexorably onwards, downwards, clicking forward and forward in time, deeper and deeper into nightmare.



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Re: Spoil of War, prologue

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

+++



The dream swept inexorably onwards, downwards, clicking forward and forward in time, deeper and deeper into nightmare.



+++