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Friends and Enemies Duo came to again with painful slowness. Everything hurt. He groaned and clutched his stomach, rolling over onto his back, then changed his mind and clutched his head, as it exploded with pain. At least nothing seemed broken. Except maybe my skull, he thought as he tried to hold it together with his bare hands. He groaned again, not sure what else to do. This is worse than when the scientists beat me up. Damn fucking White Fang, anyway. A few eternities later, the pain in his head dulled to a throbbing ache. He sat up - slowly - and took in his surroundings. Not surprisingly, it looked like a prison cell. How nice, four blank walls, a door with no window, a thin mattress with a blanket on the floor. Quaint. The lame attempt at humour brought a small smile to Duo's face, and he felt a little better. Well, that's Shinigami for you. If all else fails, make a stupid joke. One day that strategy will actually *work*, I'm sure of it. His thoughts were interrupted by the soft swishing sound of the door opening. He briefly considered making a break for it, but that idea was dashed by the size of the two beefy guards in the doorway. They carried what looked like another prisoner between them and they unceremoniously tossed the semi-conscious man face-first into the cell. "Good night, General!" one of them laughed, then the door closed behind them. Duo didn't waste any time trying to figure out what that had meant, as he scrambled over to see if the man was all right. He was shirtless, and what looked like fresh whip-marks criss-crossed his back. Two had broken the skin and were bleeding sluggishly, but the rest were just painful welts. Said back was broad and well-muscled, and looked to have been flawless before the whipping. The man had short, tawny hair, which was tousled and ragged from not being washed. The Gundam pilot took the man's shoulder and shook him slightly, eliciting a groan. "Hey there, you all right? Don't worry, I'm a friend." Duo went around his other side and helped him up, slinging the man's arm over his shoulder and guiding him towards the 'bed'. The man was a lot bigger than Duo, who grunted under his weight. "My name's Duo Maxwell," he said brightly, trying to keep up a stream of chatter that would - hopefully - raise the man's spirits. "Duo Maxwell..." the man said softly. There was an edge of shock and wonder in his voice that surprised Duo. "Yeah, that's me. I'm a Gundam pilot, which I guess is why I'm here." They had reached the bed and Duo helped him kneel down onto it before letting go. He made as though to get up, but was arrested in the motion as the man's hand shot out and gripped his shoulder in a firm, but not painful, grip. "It's good to finally meet you, Duo Maxwell," the man said softly, and he looked up. Duo gasped and he could barely hear his own exclamation over the sound of his heart thudding in his chest. "Treize Khushrenada!" "I'm flattered that you recognize me." Well duh, how could I not? I've been trying to *kill* you for how long? "W-W-What are *you* doing *here*?" Duo exclaimed, flabbergasted. "White Fang is as much my enemy as yours. It appears my dear Milliard-" he grunted as he changed into a sitting position, "-Peacecraft is determined to end any doubt I might have had that he no longer called me a friend." "How long have you been here?" Treize waved vaguely. "No more than a few days, I'm not certain." "And Zechs did this to you?" Duo was amazed. From what Heero and Trowa had told him about the blonde soldier, this didn't seem to be his style. Even *if* Treize had staged his death. But Treize was shaking his head. "Not directly. He hasn't seen fit to visit his prisoner, as yet." Duo felt a twinge at the misery that rose, and was hastily buried, on his enemy's face. Before he realized what he was doing, he reached out and placed a hand on Treize's shoulder. "Maybe he doesn't know you're here." Treize glanced at Duo, his eyes glittering like sapphires with pain. "Perhaps," he said sadly. Suddenly uncomfortable, Duo gave his shoulder a quick squeeze and released it, jumping to his feet. "Give me a sec, I'll deal with your injuries." "That's not nec-" Treize protested, but Duo ignored him. He practically leapt across the room to the small sink in the corner, next to the embarrassingly privacyless toilet. He gathered a wad of toilet paper in his hand and wet it in the sink, then sauntered back across the room. "Not at all, General Treize Khushrenada, sir! I'll have that pristine, aristocratic back of yours back to normal in a jiffy." "You're too kind," Treize said ironically, then sucked in his breath sharply as Duo began dabbing at one of the cuts with the wet paper. "Sorry, this is gonna hurt a little," Duo said gleefully. "I'm sorry - ow - dear boy, but - hsss - it seems that you are enjoying that - ahh - fact a little - ouch - too much for my liking." "Why, whatever do you mean, General?" "The tone of your - ow - voice is, shall I say, gleeful?" "Well," Duo said brightly, "I don't really know what you're talking about, but assuming you're right, it might have something to do with the way killing you has been my reason for living for over a year now. I was particularly fascinated by the way you destroyed my Deathscythe on television." Treize made a pained sound that seemed only partially due to the savage treatment he was receiving from the Deathscythe pilot. "Indeed. I suppose it's understandable, then. Though, for the record, I had nothing to do with that last." Duo shrugged. "Glad you understand my position." Treize fell silent, the only outward indication of his discomfort being small twitches of his sculpted muscles under Duo's hands. Despite himself, and despite his words, Duo found himself feeling sorry for the aristocrat. Aw hell, he's probably never even had a hangnail. Though, he's in incredible shape, he then surprised himself by thinking. Well, I'm sure he has no training for *this* sort of thing. And the guy who's doing it used to be his best friend or whatever. He's holding up really well, considering. He gentled his ministrations, carefully cleaning the last of the dirt out of the General's wounds. The other man sighed softly, leaning subtly into him as Duo began softly running the damp paper over the rest of his back, soothing the welts with the cold wetness. A sound like a soft purr rose in Treize's throat and he leaned his head back, arching his back as Duo ran first the wad of paper, and then his free hand over his shoulder blades. God, he's gorgeous. That thought made Duo stop suddenly and shake himself. What the hell am I doing? He hastily cleared his throat, breaking Treize out of the trance he had been in as well. The older man stopped purring and glanced back at him, his eyes soft. Duo flashed him a grin and jumped to his feet, turning away - too quickly - to flush the paper down the toilet. "Uh, well, we should probably get some sleep, while we have the chance. One thing you learn pretty quick in my line of work is: get sleep while you can, you never know when you'll need to be alert, or when you'll get a chance again." "Very wise," Treize said softly. When Duo turned back to face him, uncomfortably aware of the light blush painting his cheeks, Treize was lying on his side, the blankets pulled up to cover him. There was enough room on the pallet for Duo, but they would have to share a blanket. Oh well, Duo shrugged. You've shared a bed with worse. At least Treize isn't likely to grope me in his sleep. Or even when he's awake. He tried to ignore the small voice that whispered in the back of his mind that he might not mind... Duo laid down on the pallet and tugged the blankets over him, and resolutely tried to sleep. | |
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