Gundam Wing: Angel and the Dragon

The Angel and the Dragon

Part 3

Heero was rudely awakened by the sensation of Duo digging his fingers painfully into his collarbone.

Not to mention the fact that he was shouting in his ear.

"Duo! What the hell-" he cut himself off sharply as he registered the temperature of Duo's shaking body. He was burning up. "Che!" Heero swore, disentangling himself from Duo. The other boy seemed only to want to wrap himself further around Heero. "Stop it, you baka!" He exclaimed, batting away the grasping hands. "I'm going to get your clothes!"

"Heero?" Duo opened his eyes and looked at him glassily.

"Yeah?" he responded warily.

"I'm sorry to be such a bother to you. Good thing that won't be happening much longer."

Heero turned away, searching with his fingers for the pile of clothing. "What the hell are you talking about, Duo?"

"Well," he said in a reasonable tone. "I'm pretty sure I'm going to die, so you won't have to bother with me anymore."

Heero located the clothes and he turned around. "You're not going to die," he stated firmly. Even in the dim light he could see the angry red lines radiating from the gash in Duo's side. He swore again and raised Duo's white shirt, moving to put it on him.

Duo reacted with a look of blank terror and he scooted back against the wall. "Look, Heero, maybe if this isn't going to kill me, we can work something out. You don't have to strangle me with my shirt."

Heero first reminded himself sharply that Duo was very sick, probably delusional, and not reacting normally as a result. Second, he rearranged his features into a pleasant, non-threatening expression. It took a few seconds, and it hurt, as muscles long-unused were stretched out of their familiar configurations, but he managed it. At least, he assumed he had, because Duo seemed to calm down somewhat. Pitching his voice in what he hoped was a soothing tone, he said. "I'm not going to kill you, Duo. You're feverish, and I'm going to take care of you. I'm going to warm you up."

He started to advance again with the shirt.

Duo broke into a brilliant, sexy smile. "Really? Will you warm me up, Hee-chan?"

Heero winced, but nodded.

Duo glomped him, taking Heero by surprise and sending both down in a tangle on the floor. Heero sputtered and fought his way out of the tangle of hair and groping boy. "Kisama! Duo! Get off me!"

Duo turned the full force of his pout upon him. "But, I thought you were going to warm me up."

"I will, but just hold still and behave, all right?"

"All right, beloved," Duo said agreeably, then yawned mightily.

Heero was immeasurably relieved that Duo was quite deeply asleep by the time he had finished dressing him, tucking him under the covers, and curling up beside him. He wrapped himself around Duo as snugly as he could and hoped it would help stop the other boy's shaking.

Duo did not rest easily. He alternated between pushing away the covers and Heero as though he were hot, and clutching both to him and shivering with chill. He tossed and muttered, sometimes crying out. Heero just held onto him and wished he could pray.

Walking down a hallway. It's dark. I shiver with cold. The sound of dripping water echoes in the space, but my feet make no sound on the chill concrete floor. I am Death. I have come.

I grip a girl's face in my hand, pinching her cheeks so they puff forward and squish her lips like a parody of a kiss. Blood runs from her glazing eyes and drips over my hand.

The sound of dripping water...

Dripping blood.

I place my wet fingers in my mouth and the taste of iron and salt floods my tongue.

It's a gun barrel. Heero draws the cold barrel of the gun out of my mouth and along the line of my chin, it leaves a trail of saliva, cold and slimy, behind.

"You're mine," he says.

"Yours..." I say. It's so hot... He places his hand behind my back and places the barrel against my Adam's Apple.

"Omae o korosu."

"Please..."

His lips brush my own and burn like fire. I feel my whole body blister and char and my world is shattered by an earthquake. I scream--

Duo awoke, a scream tearing his throat, to Heero's face as he leaned over him, shaking him awake.

"Wake up, kisama! You're dreaming."

"I'm awake, I'm awake," he said, pushing Heero away. Or trying to. "Oi, Heero, why am I so weak?"

"You're sick. You have a serious fever caused by some kind of infection from a wound you sustained."

"Oh yeah."

Duo felt himself being drawn back into sleep and fought it, fearing the frightening, vivid dreams.

"Did I say anything while I was sleeping?" he asked.

"No, you just moaned and muttered a lot, and then screamed when I tried to wake you up."

Duo giggled. "You just used up a week's worth of words, Hee-chan."

Heero grunted. "Hn."

"I dreamed that you were putting a gun in my mouth and that you were going to kill me, but you kissed me instead and it hurt a lot. That's why I screamed."

"I won't do that. Go to sleep, Duo."

"No," Duo said stubbornly.

"You're sick, you need your sleep."

Duo turned to pout at Heero and discovered that cold cobalt eyes had been replaced by emerald. Dark hair had lightened somewhat to brown. Solo looked a hell of a lot older than he'd been the last time Duo's seen him, but that made sense since that was eight years ago. :How did I think Heero was here, anyway?: Duo thought. :I must have been hallucinating.:

"Solo? What the fuck are you doing here, man? Sorry, I thought you were someone else."

"What?" Solo responded.

"Don't worry, man. Hey, I thought you were dead."

"What are you talking about?"

"Yeah, pretty weird, eh?"

"Hn."

"Hey, you've never been so quiet before. Come here, man, I missed ya."

Duo reveled in the feeling of his old friend in his arms. :Man, he smells like Heero.: He thought idly.

"Why am I so fucking cold, Solo?" he whispered into his soft hair.

"I told you, you're sick."

"That was Heero," Duo said, trying to suppress a yawn. "He's the one who said that."

"Well, you should listen to Heero more often. Go to sleep, Duo," his friend urged, stroking his cheek with a cool, calloused hand. Duo couldn't help but comply.

"Now... if I were a Gundam Pilot, where would *I* hide?"

A manicured hand passed slowly over the electronic map laid out on its owner's desk. The map contained the latest information on the area in which its owner's soldiers were reasonably certain they'd pinned down pilots 01 and 02. Warehouses and other buildings showed as blocks of grey and white - white for areas already explored, and that was growing even as he watched. Solders' official post positions showed as red dots.

Treize looked up as the other occupant of the room shifted uncomfortably. "What's wrong, little dragon?"

Wufei glared at the Oz general fiercely. "I can't believe you're doing this right in front of me."

"Doing what?"

"Kisama!"

Treize leaned back in his chair. "Now, dragon, you know I'm not actually involved in the search. Zechs is running that, and he's giving the orders. The chances of my having some incredible insight that will change the outcome of this little game are incredibly low." Then he leaned forward again. "Unless, of course, you wish to provide me with some of that insight."

Wufei flushed and looked away, clenching his fists with barely-repressed rage. "I am not going to stand here while you plan the deaths of two of my friends," he declared.

"Not death, little dragon. Not death. I have far more ambitious plans for them."

"So use me, for whatever you're going to do!"

A smile tugged at the corners of Treize's lips. "I can't do that. How would you explain to your compatriots how I captured you? I don't think they'd appreciate hearing about how many chances I've had, so to speak." He stood and raised his hand to caress Wufei's cheek. The hand was batted away. "Besides, I couldn't do that to *you*, my little dragon."

"I'm leaving," Wufei announced sullenly, refusing to meet Treize's eyes.

"Yes, a good idea." Treize agreed. "Go and give your friends aid in rescuing 01 and 02. I give you my blessing to use any information you have extracted while here, of course."

Wufei glared at him. "In other words, you don't think it'll do any good."

"On the contrary. I wish you luck."

Wufei slipped out the window, running across the lawn of Treize's estate on catfeet and down into the forest at the back. He located his motorcycle and hopped on, taking one last look at the magnificent house. :Good luck, he says. Kisama! We'll get Heero and Duo back, no matter what he thinks.:

Back in the mansion, Treize took a sip of wine and traced the edges of the rapidly-diminishing pool of grey on the map. "Good luck, little dragon. You'll need it."

"You have to find them, Trowa!"

"I'm working on it, Quatre," Trowa said, somewhat irritably, resisting the urge to turn away from the computer to stroke his lover's blonde hair comfortingly. He'd hacked into the Oz database and was nearing the ability to locate their plans for capturing Heero and Duo, but every second counted. At this point, he didn't care if they knew he was there, but he couldn't let them find out where he was accessing them *from*, and the longer they knew he was there, the more likely that he would be cut off.

Distantly, he heard a door slam as Wufei returned from... wherever he'd gone last night. Even Duo, in the face of red-faced, and loud, refusals to divulge any information, had long since given up on finding out where Wufei went periodically. Trowa had nailed it down to a few countries where Wufei's lover could live, but the girl must be pretty rich to travel so much. Personally, he didn't care, so long as Wufei had an outlet for that anger of his. How he did it, or with whom, didn't much matter.

He felt Quatre's presence leave his shoulder as he left to fill Wufei in on the details of Heero and Duo's failure, narrow escape, and possible imminent capture. Meanwhile, Trowa passed the final barrier and was presented with a map. The symbols of the map were inescapable, and even as he watched, he could see the white, like a poisonous fog, drawing closer to the centre. Even if Heero and Duo were lucky enough to be trapped in that warehouse in the extreme middle of the map, they weren't going to be able to hold out until morning. He hurriedly escaped from the network, covering his presence as much as possible, even as he was rising to his feet, shouting.

"Quatre, Wufei, get to your Gundams. We're going to have to blast them out, and we've less than two hours to get there to do it!" Frenzied cursing and pounding feet greeted his announcement as Trowa raced from the room. :This is going to be close.:

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