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by Kracken
Disclaimer: I don't own them and I don't make any money off of them.
Warning: Violence. Graphic. Language. Sex between two men. Abuse. Really
bastard Heero. Angst.
The
Lost Soldiers series #4
Devil
May Care
"I still recommend a hospital,"
the doctor said as he packed up his bag and began to leave. "But, since
you still refuse that advice, I've started an I.V. to rehydrate him and
I've added antibiotics. I don't see any drug scars on the boy. His urinalysis
came up negative for enhancers, but it seems he was taking antidepressants
not too long ago at very high levels. The physical abuse is bad enough,
but, luckily, there wasn't any sign of anal tears, indicating rape, or
internal bleeding. His ribs are still healing fine and a leg injury is
only minor. He is beginning to have a fever and he does show signs of
borderline starvation and acute stress. Those factors could push him over
the edge into critical, so it is very important that he be monitored constantly."
He eyed Zechs accusingly. "I still don't see why a cot can't be brought
into this room to allow me to stay with him and make sure his vitals stay
stable."
Zechs felt respect for the doctor's commitment to his patient, but he
needed time alone with Duo and he didn't want the man used to being underfoot
at all times. It was better that he be regulated to a room adjacent to
Duo's . On call, but not an annoyance to Zechs plans.
"He's a trained Gundam pilot," Zechs finally admitted, knowing what would
convince the man the easiest. "He was trained from a very early age to
kill people, Doctor. I wouldn't want him to accidentally mistake you for
an enemy. Unconscious, he is harmless, but he may begin to wake soon.
I insist on being in the room when you treat him from now on. It is the
safest arrangement. Only a trained soldier can hope to combat another
trained soldier."
The doctor looked at the pale boy under the heavy covers of the bed, tubes
running up to bags on metal hangers and tangled hair splayed all around
him. He looked harmless, a child, but there was something about his hands,
the doctor thought, small, long fingered, but hard and nicked with white
scars. They were corded and worn, like the hands of someone twice his
age. Those hands had piloted a Gundam and had killed men in the war. Resting
and relaxed, they still looked deadly. The doctor swallowed hard and nodded.
"It may be inconvenient for you, sir," he replied. "I may have to visit
him many times tonight, but, if you still insist... I will be grateful
for your assistance."
Zechs nodded quietly and closed the door behind the doctor as he left.
Locking it, he turned back to Duo and approached the bed with slow, measured
steps. He could take his time now. All distractions and barriers were
gone. Duo was his.
Even worn to the bone, the boy had a luminescent beauty, Zechs thought
as he reached the bedside and simply looked down into Duo's face. The
boy opened his mouth a little and Zech's saw surprisingly white, even
teeth, and a delicate, moist, pink tongue. It made his crotch tighten,
imagining that mouth doing wonders on his manhood.
"Mine," Zechs whispered and rubbed at the front of his pants. "Mine, now,
however I want you. You owe me."
Zechs took hold of the blankets and slid them down Duo's body, revealing
slowly and sensually, his other, beautiful attributes. Even the tubes
in his arms, the bruises, the cuts and scrapes, didn't detract from Duo's
perfect form. He was built like a dancer, all corded muscle wrapped in
silky skin. Zechs could imagine him writhing underneath him in fierce
passion, clawing and biting, being hot and vibrant, not like the venal,
insipid creature he had bedded much earlier that night. No, Duo was fire,
not milk and thin blood. He didn't look like the type to lay quietly and
take whatever someone gave him. He would give as much as he was given,
and then some.
Caught up in the fantasy, and beginning to loosen his belt in preparation
for the conquest, Zechs didn't notice the change in Duo at first. It wasn't
until he was caressing his own manhood, standing tall and eager, and reaching
a hand to Duo's smooth belly, that he felt the shivering and the blistering
heat of Duo's skin. The boy groaned at the touch and his skin flinched
like a skittish colt.
"Heero!" Duo sobbed.
Zechs straightened as if he had been struck. He stared, wide eyed, as
Duo half opened his eyes in delirium and then began to struggle. "No,
Heero! Don't! Please don't do that! I'll do anything else, just don't
rape me! Don't! God, Heero! Stop! Please Stop!" He was sobbing wildly
now and beginning to pull at the tubes in his arms, panicking.
Zechs yanked up his pants and leaned over to restrain Duo. The boy went
wild then, eyes flying open wide, but blind, caught in a nightmare or
a memory. A tube came loose with a spray of blood that splattered Zechs
in the face. He flinched, but held on. There was a pounding on the door.
The doctor's voice demanded entrance. He had heard the cries from his
room next door.
This had to stop, now, Zechs thought, and backhanded Duo hard. The sound
was loud even over Duo's cries. Duo's head snapped sharply to one side
and then it was rolling back, eyes aware now and narrowed with fury.
"Get off me!" Duo snarled in a weak, hoarse voice. "Where the Hell am
I and what the fuck are you trying to do to me?"
"You are at my home," Zechs snarled back, "and I am attempting to save
your life. You are very ill. If you will calm down, I will let the physician
in to take care of you!"
Duo was shaking and distrustful. It took a long moment of staring into
Zechs' blood splattered face, and trying to think with his fevered mind,
before he stopped his struggles and lay limply. Zechs didn't trust that.
He released Duo and backed up sharply, putting space between himself and
a young man trained to kill with his body.
Duo suddenly smiled, a manic grin below glittering, fevered eyes. "Yeah,"
he said. "Let the doctor in and then explain to me why you're in here
and he's out there behind a locked door. The explanation better be a good
one too, or I'll show you what I can do even when I'm shitfaced sick."
Zechs gave him a hard look as he walked towards the door. "Like you showed
Heero Yuy? Is that why you ended up on my doorstep wearing practically
nothing and freezing to death?"
Duo bristled even though he was turning very pale and his eyes were becoming
glassy. "I -I had stuff... I was robbed... and yeah, I kicked Heero's
ass, but that's my business, not yours!"
Zechs stopped, ignoring the pounding on the door. He narrowed his eyes
at Duo and Duo went quiet and nervous. "Do you think you're OWED my help?"
Duo didn't reply, but his hands were knotting in his blankets.
Zechsanswered his own question with measured intensity. "I will ask for
repayment, Duo Maxwell, even if it may be only an acknowledgement of my
generosity on your part... a thank you, perhaps, and dare I ask it, some
trust?"
Duo closed his eyes and tossed his head, fighting the fevered delirium.
"Trust?" he croaked, "I'm through trusting people. I knew better than
to do that on L2. I shouldn't have forgotten the lessons I learned growing
up there. People there either wanted something from you or they wanted
to do you. Seems the Earth... isn't... any... different." His last words
trailed off and he was suddenly unconscious, muscles going limp. He looked
like an abused and weary child.
Zechs felt something... respect, maybe, that such spirit and will could
make such a thin and beaten body so powerful and alive when Duo was awake.
Guilt nibbled at the corners of Zech's mind, followed by doubt. He tried
to ignore those feelings, opening the door and turning his thoughts to
the alarmed and red faced doctor.
"Sir?!" The man exclaimed as he looked wildly about. "What happened? I
heard shouts! The door was locked! I was about to call the staff to help
me break it down. Why didn't you answer my calls, sir?"
Zechs pushed his long hair out of his face in a weary fashion. "Maxwell
became delirious. I had to hold him down to keep him from hurting himself.
Forgive me for locking the door. It's on old soldier's habit. I had intended
to stay and keep watch on Maxwell myself, to allow you to rest. I never
imagined that he would take such a quick turn for the worse."
They both approached the bed. The doctor examined Duo anxiously and then
looked very concerned. "Fever," he said. "We were too late administering
the antibiotics."
"You can treat him?" Zechs asked.
"Yes," the doctor replied. "It's a complication I was preparing for."
"Excellent," Zechs approved and then frowned as he added, "Maxwell said
some shocking things while he was struggling."
The doctor was reattaching the I.V. lines and taping them in place. He
only glanced at Zechs briefly, intent on his work. "If he was delirious,
you shouldn't put too much trust in the validity of anything he said,
sir."
"Still," Zechs replied. "I think you should check him for signs of rape
again."
The doctor raised eyebrows as he began wiping away the blood with alcohol
swabs. "Is that what he spoke about? Rape?"
"Yes."
The doctor nodded and began taking out specimen collectors. "I'll do a
DNA scan then and look for intestinal damage. I didn't see any blood in
my first exam, but there wouldn't be if the perpetrator was careful."
Zechs jaw tightened. "Make certain you sedate Maxwell heavily before you
start. We wouldn't want him waking up during that kind of re examination
and breaking your neck, Doctor."
The doctor went pale, stammering, "Y-Yes, sir, I mean, no, sir, I certainly
wouldn't."
Zechs turned away as the doctor lowered the blankets on Duo and injected
him with a strong sedative. He didn't watch the exam or the sample gathering.
He waited until the doctor had finished, tucking Duo back into bed comfortably,
and then appearing at Zechs' elbow.
"I didn't see any intestinal damage or blood," the doctor reported quietly.
"I'll send my samples to the lab in the morning and have them screened
for semen DNA. If the young man was raped, we'll know by whom by early
afternoon."
Zechs nodded and went through the motions of thanking the doctor and convincing
the man to leave once again. "You need your rest," Zechs insisted. "I've
done field surgery. I know something about caring for sick men. I think
you sedated Maxwell so well, he probably won't be waking up until your
lab results arrive tomorrow, anyway."
"Yes, sir," the doctor agreed as Zechs began to close the door on him.
"Please, leave the door unlocked this time, sir?"
"Of course," Zechs agreed. He closed the door and listened until he heard
the man return to his own room. Then, Zechs locked the door despite promise
not to. No more interruptions, Zechs thought as he returned to Duo's bed.
The boy was very pale now, the sweat of fever on his brow. Zechs felt
that smooth skin and felt the heat. Brushing the damp bangs out of Duo's
eyes, Zechs couldn't stop the sick images from entering his mind of Heero
Yuy, pinning that young man down and doing his worst, wringing shrieks
out of Duo, a proud, strong ex Gundam pilot. Duo had escaped, unviolated
hopefully, yet certainly not without some revenge on Heero Yuy. Duo had
left almost everything behind, been robbed of what little he had managed
to take with him, and then had made his way through cold and rain to Zechs
doorway. Zechs remembered his pride, his strength, and his calculated
manipulation of Zechs and his staff to secure himself a place out of the
weather.
Zechs dropped his hand and took a step back. An L2 criminal, a nobody,
a shallow, irresponsible, waste of space. Zechs had justified his own
actions with those images of Duo. What did it matter to street trash if
a prince decided to pick him up out of the gutter and show him some favor?
A person like that should be grateful, eager to ...
Zechs turned away from the bed. He felt the darkness gathering at the
edges of sight, threatening him, holding up a putrid picture of himself,
no better than Heero Yuy; a rapist. Madness, Zechs thought as he unlocked
the door and left the room. He was mad to have considered crushing the
bright flame of Duo Maxwell under his lust and need to keep away the depression.
The mental image that depression gleefully showed Zechs couldn't be avoided
no matter which way he turned. He could clearly see the monster in him,
slowly taking over, a monster who had thought nothing of using men as
diversions. Had he really considered raping Duo for a diversion?
Zechs groaned and clawed at his handsome face, scratching his skin and
mingling his blood with the blood of Duo still there. Giving orders to
the alarmed staff to give Duo all he wanted and to allow the doctor access
to whatever he needed, Zechs packed a bag and left his home, searching
for a place to buy strong drink and a hotel room to drown himself in.
+
"He was here. He left," Heero said as he typed up a report. The vid phone
was to his right, Quatre's worried face a blur on the edge of Heero's
sight.
"Again?" Quatre sighed. "Was he taking his medication or seeing another
doctor?"
"He didn't confide in me any information," Heero replied. "Medication?
Explain?"
"Uhm, well, I guess I can discuss it with you, you are his best friend,"
Quatre said nervously.
"Hn," Heero grunted.
"He was having a problem with depression," Quatre explained. "I told him
I wouldn't help him unless he sought professional help. His medication
was for the depression."
"Hn," Heero stopped typing and brought up a profile of Duo Maxwell. He
began adding the new information to it.
"I'm worried about him, Heero. The doctor said that he was sounding suicidal."
"He was not suicidal when he arrived here," Heero told him and saw some
relief on Quatre's face. "But we had a disagreement and I am not certain
of his state of mind at this time." Quatre tensed again.
"What did you argue about?" Quatre wondered and then tried to answer his
own question. "I suppose he lost another job?"
"No," Heero replied. "I wished to set up a new arrangement between us
and he strongly resisted. His reaction puzzled me until you informed me
of his mental state."
"What arrangement?" Quatre asked.
Heero paused, not out of guilt or embarrassment, but out of an ingrained
reluctance to let anyone know so much about him. He still considered it
a compromise of his safety and position. Enemies as well as friends could
make use of such information and Heero knew that he had many enemies from
the war.
Quatre filled the silence suddenly with an apology. "Uh, that's okay,
Heero. I know you've been under a lot of stress. I can imagine that even
a simple request for Duo to do the dishes would have seemed intolerable
to him."
"Hn," Heero replied as he began typing more information into Duo's file.
"You're a good friend to Duo, Heero," Quatre finished by saying. "He's
lucky he has you to take care of him, at least when he lets you. If you
see him again..."
"My arrangement to him is still available," Heero replied. "He may live
here again if he chooses."
Quatre nodded and smiled in relief. "That's good, Heero. I hope he comes
to his senses... well, he always does in the end, doesn't he? At least
for a little while. Take care Heero and tell Duo my offer of treatment
still stands as well."
"Acknowledged," Heero replied. "Goodbye, Quatre. I have reports to finish."
"Of course," Quatre said with a small chuckle. "I will wish that your
dedication to your work , and your complete integration into civilian
society, graces Duo someday as well. Goodbye, Heero."
The vid screen went blank and Heero closed it. He glared at Duo's profile.
Where was the braided baka? The apartment was as chill as ice and empty
without him. Heero was finding it hard to function efficiently. His nights
were becoming sleepless, listening to the silence and feeling that emptiness
creeping up on him to swallow his control whole.
Heero stood and gave the apartment a severe look. He didn't understand
why the loss of Duo bothered him so much. He had spent his life alone,
unloved, untouched, his inner being wrapped up in training and missions.
His fingers closed as if longing to feel those hard muscles and silky
flesh underneath him again.
Pinning Duo to the couch, feeling him struggle and call his name... it
had validated Heero's existence somehow in a way the women in his life
never had. Duo SAW him, reacted to him, and maybe feared him, but it was
better than the inane chatter of females who only wanted him for his position
and the men sycophants who sought out his company for the same. Only Duo
looked at him and saw Heero Yuy for who he was, flesh and blood and sometimes
friend. He had the magic to make the perfect soldier feel alive. Heero
had to have that back. Duo had to be found.
Heero sat at his computer, hooked up to the Internet, and began to search
and hack through files, a shark slicing through the waters of technology
and bypassing civilians bathing in it's power, unaware of their danger.
He patrolled for a drop of scent, a drop of blood in an ocean, Duo's blood,
Duo's scent. It as there, somewhere....
+
"Nothing keeps me down for long," Duo told the doctor as he put on his
boots. "I've always healed fast, but I think the doctor who trained me
modified me in some way to heal even faster."
The Doctor watched Duo, who had been borderline critical two nights ago,
stand and stretch and look, except for a slight wince in acknowledgement
of some unhealed wounds, as if he had never been ill. He had lazed in
bed, read newspapers and magazines, eaten an incredible amount of food,
and talked non stop to anyone who would listen. The doctor had found the
ex Gundam pilot to be funny and very pleasant, not at all put out by his
confinement or illness.
"Still, you should rest and avoid a relapse," the Doctor told him. "Milliardo
Peacecraft has given orders that you are his guest and to be treated accordingly."
Duo frowned as he flipped his long, thick braid over his shoulder. He
ran a hand down the black pants he wore and touched the lapel of his long,
black coat. It had a very thick, black fur lining and warm gloves in a
pocket. All gifts from Zechs. It left a sour taste in Duo's mouth. He
had a hazy memory of waking up in a panic, Zechs leaning over him, and
someone... the doctor trying to get into the locked room. The doctor had
been confused on the details, unable to explain. Duo, still raw from Heero's
abuse, felt an unhealthy paranoia concerning the white haired aristocrat.
It was better to deal with the situation and maybe get an explanation
from the safety of his own place, or the place he intended to have if
he still had his job at the tile factory.
"I think I've imposed long enough," Duo replied at last. He grinned at
the doctor and the doctor found it infectious. "Thanks for taking such
good care of me, Doc. You sort of revived my faith in the medical profession."
The doctor clapped Duo on the back good naturedly, "I'm glad to hear it.
If you need my services, please call." He paused and then added seriously.
"If you need more antidepressants, I can fill a prescription for you."
Duo's smile faltered, but then it gained strength as he realized that
the doctor had found out, somehow, and was asking only out of concern.
"Ah, no thanks, Doc," Duo replied as he went out the door. "They didn't
help me much. See ya around!"
Duo made his way downstairs, whistling a happy tune and ignoring the aches,
the pains, and the fatigue from fighting his brief illness. A servant
approached at once. "Mr. Maxwell," the servant greeted him.
Duo grinned. "Henry! What's up?"
The man smiled, but he looked disappointed as well. "I take it that you
are leaving us, sir?"
Duo nodded. "Time to leave the lap of luxury and stop sponging off of
old Zechs."
Henry chuckled. "It was a pleasure hosting you, sir. I'm certain, Prince
Milliardo would not mind in the slightest if you were to remain a while
longer."
Duo grimaced and scratched his head as he said apologetically. "Yeah,
well, I wanna take advantage of that, but... something happened that made
me realize how important independence is. I need to get some of that."
Henry looked worried so Duo disarmed him with another smile. "Never mind,
Henry. I just need to thank Milliardo and then I'll be on my way. Where
can I find him?"
Henry looked uncomfortable. "Well, sir, it isn't really my place to say.
He didn't give orders to that effect. I will say that he isn't in residence
at the moment, hasn't been actually, since the night you took so ill."
Duo blinked, surprised. Again he remembered Zechs' face above him, looking
at him with intensity. Disturbed and not certain what to think, Duo asked
again, "Come on, Henry! Me and Zechs go way back!" The man quirked an
eyebrow at the lithe youth in front of him, speaking as if he were a grizzled
war veteran instead of someone barely legal enough to drink. "He'll want
to know where I'm going. He'll want to talk to me. I have to thank him.
You can understand that, can't you?"
Henry thought it over and then he nodded. "He did say that you were to
be given anything you asked for."
"Then I'm asking," Duo laughed.
+
Zechs finished the last bottle of whiskey and tossed it aside. It thumped
and rolled on the lush white carpet of the hotel room, leaving spots in
its wake. This was his third day of being drunk and still he couldn't
avoid self knowledge. It ate at him like acid, carving wounds in his mind
that he didn't think would ever heal.
The depression covered him like a dark cloak or a dear friend; a false
friend, a friend who wanted his destruction. No more distractions, Zechs
thought, and the drink was powerless against it this time. The depression
was consuming him. What would happen when it consumed him utterly? Zechs
was too much of a coward to find out.
Meticulously cleaned gun, metallic with silver fittings. A wealthy man's
toy. A soldier's lifesaver. This time, Zechs thought bitterly as he took
it from its shoulder holster hanging over a chair back, it was going to
be his executioner. It was time he stopped avoiding his punishment.
Zechs strode to the center of the room. He stood dramatically at attention
and raised to gun to his temple. "Milliardo Peacecraft, for your crimes
against Earth and Outer Space, I do hereby sentence you to d-"
"Could you hold up the execution for a moment, Zechs?"
Zechs flinched and turned. Duo Maxwell was standing inside his bedroom,
watching him with serious, amethyst eyes and a strained smile on his lips.
Zechs blinked, thinking it was some sort of alcohol hallucination, but
the slim figure of the ex Gundam pilot came closer and seemed very solid.
"What-?" Zechs didn't lower the gun. "How did you get in here? I locked
the door."
Duo flicked open his hand for a moment. In it were lock picks. He pocketed
them and then cocked his head curiously at Zechs, "I don't want to get
blood all over me and brain bits. Do you mind waiting until I say what
I came to say? I'll say it quick and then leave you to uh, your weird
kind of fun, I guess."
Zechs lowered the gun, staring, not able to comprehend that Duo was standing
in his bedroom having a nonchalant conversation with him, as if what Zechs
had been about to do was perfectly normal and acceptable.
"Ah, good," Duo said and grinned engagingly. "I ah, just came to say thanks
for the hospitality. Everyone was great to me."
"You are most welcome," Zechs replied numbly, automatically polite. "Feel
free to call again. The doors of the Peacecraft home are always open to
you."
Duo shook his head with a frown. "Well, they won't be after you, uh, execute
yourself."
Zechs blinked and then sluggishly thought that over. "I suppose you are
right. I am sorry."
Duo chuckled. "You are, aren't you? You're such a polite man, Zechs. You're
even politely executing yourself, not bothering anyone, except maybe the
maid who has to clean it all up."
"There are certain responsibilities that one must take on oneself," Zechs
replied. "Now, If you'll excuse me, I really must attend to business.
I thank you for your courtesy in acknowledging my hospitality."
"Well," Duo replied, scratching his head thoughtfully. "I remember you
said something about being grateful and how it wasn't owed to me. It made
me think. Maybe I've been expecting help from too many people for too
long. I'm going to try to make it on my own for awhile."
Zechs stared at the beautiful face, confident eyes, and determined mouth
of Duo Maxwell. He felt longing and regret. If things had been different,
if he had taken the time to befriend Duo, if he had not fallen under the
dark hands of depression, If he had not tried to take from Duo... as if
it were owed him, something might have developed. He could feel a definite
attraction to the young man and it wasn't all lust.
"Well," Duo said as he turned for the door. "Thanks again.... oh, ya know,
if you're executing yourself because you tried to blow up everyone on
the Earth, I personally would rather you stayed alive and suffered guilt
for the rest of your life. A bullet to the head is too quick. Just a thought."
Zechs felt a chill of shock at Duo's calm, matter of fact words. It brought
home, brutally, the realization of who he was talking to, a young man
who had seen more death, more atrocities, and more battle than Zechs had
seen in his entire career. That he continued to grin and contemplate growing
up and becoming independent despite it... Zechs felt suddenly very weak
and cowardly. He had been going to take the easy way out and it had taken
Duo to point it out to him.
"Where will you go?" Zechs wondered in a small, ashamed voice.
Duo shrugged, pausing at the doorway and rolling eyes in thought. "I don't
know. I don't have anything... maybe," he hesitated and Zechs heard a
definite edge of apprehension to his voice. "Maybe I can have Heero send
me my stuff. Probably not though. He was... well, he'll still be pretty
mad, though we've punched each other's lights out before. I guess I'm
broke until my next paycheck. I'll have to use my charm to get some landlord
to rent to me on I.O.U.s."
"What job do you have?"
Duo looked wary and then shrugged. "Tile making."
"Do you enjoy it?"
Duo scowled. "Of course not! I'm a pilot!"
Zechs licked dry lips and then said, hopefully, "I have many positions
on my staff. I'm certain I can find you some piloting work. I have eight
transport vehicles, two jets, and a shuttle. You won't be coddled, of
course, you will have to show skill and dedication and you will be under
the complete direction of the heads of those areas. Room and board comes
with all positions on my staff."
Duo looked wary. He had his pride and he didn't trust a man who's motives
were a mystery to him. It was plain that he was about to refuse, despite
a glitter of eagerness in his eyes at the opportunity to pilot again.
Zechs caressed his gun and then reholstered it. "You're wondering why.
We have distinct problems because of who we are. No one cares. No one
wants to help. No one wants to be bothered by ex soldiers who can't forget
the spilled blood and who don't know any other way than war. They have
their peace. They don't want to be reminded of how much it cost. We have
to help each other, because they won't help us. Let me make a place for
you that you can accept and function in. I can't bring you peace or make
you forget your devils and nightmares. I have too many of them myself,
but I can make life a little better for you. After the sacrifices you
made for Earth and the colonies, you are OWED that much."
"Stay of execution then?" Duo wondered with narrowed eyes, still considering.
"None of that is going to happen unless you're around to give the orders."
"Stay of execution," Zechs agreed and found a sickly smile. "Agreed, then?"
Duo broke into a grin. "Agreed."
[part 3] [part 5] [back
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