By: Spooks
~ ~ ~ ~
A few hours later found Heero seated in front of his laptop, waiting for a reply from Dr. J. Heero had sent in a request that they move safe houses as soon as possible, despite what he said earlier. He knew it wasn’t logical, but Heero reasoned that the others might be more comfortable if they were stationed somewhere else, especially if the down time between missions was going to be significant. At least, that's what he kept telling himself.
Not having slept well the night before due to his nightmare, Heero was tired. He yawned and stretched back in his chair, rubbing at his eyes. Wufei and Trowa were outside working on their respective Gundams, and Wing wasn't in need of any repairs at the moment. Therefore Heero decided to catch a quick nap before any of the other pilots returned to the house.
Surely that stupid nightmare won’t bother me in the daytime, either… Heero mused as he stretched out on top of the covers of his bed, crossing his arms over his chest. Won’t be asleep long enough to reach the REM stage if it’s only for an hour or so anyway….
Next thing Heero knew, he was trapped in the same dreamscape that had haunted him the night before. Once again, he was standing in the middle of a circle of light, a dense fog peeling into the edges of his vision from the surrounding darkness. Then he caught sight of the figure, staying just outside the ring of visibility. It stalked around him, circling him in a decidedly predatory manner.
"Hello, my dear Heero," the voice purred raspily. "So nice to see you again so soon. It’s time to play. The game has begun. Ah, and here is the first piece now…"
For the first time, the figure left its previous domain of shadows and stepped into the circle of light. This did not help Heero determine the figure’s appearance, however, since it was wearing a dark shroud that covered its form from head to foot. Heavy black gloves covered its hands, and the only thing visible of its features were hints of shining eyes glinting from the recesses of the shroud’s hood. The figure gestured with a heavily cloaked arm towards a small figure lying on the hard floor by its feet.
Heero squinted in the dreamscape and tried to determine more of the features of the slight figure prostrate on the floor. Sudden recognition hit him like a ton of bricks…
~ ~ ~ ~
About the same time Heero was dozing off, Quatre and Duo were wandering through the nearest town. The small town was twenty miles distant from their house, so the trip had taken a while with the convoluted route they had followed. The pair parked their "borrowed" car in the back of one of the eating places that lined the only commercialized street in the whole berg.
"So, Duo, exactly how did you expect to go about this?" Quatre asked curiously as they walked along the strip of small stores.
"I dunno, maybe ask the locals if there are haunted houses around or something," Duo said, scratching the back of his head. "I didn’t really think about it."
"Well, we could do that, but that might blow our cover," Quatre replied.
"How about we see if they have a library around here?" Duo said excitedly. "Then we could just get whatever we wanted without being too suspicious."
"Duo, you need a library card to borrow books," Quatre stated. "And to get a library card you need tons of ID, which may also blow our cover."
"Well, duh, Q. We can lie about our names. Or," the braided trickster wriggled his eyebrows at the blond. "We could permanently borrow them."
Quatre shrugged. "Later on, I guess they can receive a mysterious donation that just happens to cover the cost of those, uh, borrowed, books, then. That’s assuming they have anything at all that would be useful. A town this small would be lucky to have a library with a full set of encyclopedia."
Surprisingly, the small town’s library was huge, and boasted a good selection of books about supernatural occurrences. There were even a few books by a local author about the region’s haunted places that may prove to be useful. A few hours harried later, Duo and Quatre were loading a pile of "borrowed" books into the backseat of their "borrowed" car.
"Ninmu kanryou," Duo grinned, mimicking one of Heero’s favorite phrases.
~ ~ ~ ~
Meanwhile, Trowa was standing in the open cockpit door of Heavyarms, making adjustments to a device attached to the instrument panel inside. He looked across the sheltered clearing to where Wufei was standing at the feet of his beloved Nataku, staring up at it as though he were trying to divine great secrets from the mammoth Gundam.
Just as Trowa was about to ask him if he wanted to go get some lunch, Wufei turned around and sat down at the feet of his Gundam, leaning up against one of its massive feet. Closing his eyes, the Chinese boy seemed to fall into a familiar meditation.
Guess he’s made his peace with Nataku, Trowa thought with slight amusement. Either that or taking a nap.
Turning back to his adjustments, he didn’t notice when Wufei got up and exited the clearing silently. Nor did he notice when the Chinese boy returned, slightly haggard and bleeding from a wound on his arm a few minutes later.
~ ~ ~ ~
Heero gasped as he realized who it was lying on the floor. It was Wufei, and he appeared to be fast asleep. He gasped as the shrouded figure made a small gesture with its gloved hand, causing Wufei to be pulled to his feet as though held up by marionette strings. The boy blinked, and looked around in the dreamscape as though confused before his expression melted into blank serenity.
"What are you going to do to him?" Heero managed to choke out, still unable to move.
"A demonstration of my power, a clue to my purpose," the cloaked figure whispered harshly.
Without warning Heero found himself strapped to a chair, unable to break free. He could move within the confines of his bindings, but the ropes that held him seemed indestructible. In essence, he was helpless, but he had the ability to move. Heero jerked his head towards the figure, who was now whispering in Wufei’s ear.
Wufei stood as though in a trance, listening blankly to the cloaked figure. The figure drew a sharp blade across the still boy’s upper arm, drawing a thin rivulet of blood that circled the boy’s whole arm. "Go," the figure whispered, pushing the dazed Chinese pilot out of the area of light.
"What are you doing to him?" Heero asked angrily.
"You’ll see later. For now, witness your atrocities, your weaknesses, and your damnation," the figure hissed.
Then the memories came flooding back, overwhelming Heero’s psyche. He could do nothing as sights, sounds, and smells from the past washed over him. Old wounds flared up inside his conscience, long forgotten guilt threatening to trounce the stoic pilot’s senses. The earliest years, his horrific training he had managed to forget, the undulating guilt that washed over him when he botched a mission, the soul sickness he had felt after he had destroyed Noventa’s plane. Then, images of the only friends he had ever known, the other pilots, flooded into his mind. Their bodies hideously broken, bleeding, and silent. The image of himself standing over their corpses, their blood staining his hands, and their deaths on his conscience.
"Yes, witness the glory of your errors, past, present, and future, boy. So much of it, your fault, isn’t it?" the figure growled in Heero’s ear.
"Why are you doing this? What did I do to you? Are you after revenge? Why drag the others into it? Who the hell are you?!" Heero managed to scream in frustration and fear at the retreating figure.
"They are necessary means to the end I desire," the shrouded figure said, placing a hand against the side of Heero’s face. It was so cold, even through the thick gloves. It caused Heero to break out in chill bumps and shiver.
"And…what is this end?" Heero asked as he tried to shrink away from the figure’s touch.
"You shall see. A clue for you, if you dare to believe…my name is Scelestum. Wake now, little soldier, there is more fun to be had," with that, the figure, Scelestum, faded into nothingness, and Heero woke with a start.
Sitting up from his reclined position on his bed, Heero panted as he remembered what had transpired in his dream. This was getting way too serious. He heard a beep coming from his laptop. Leaping to his feet, Heero checked his incoming messages, hoping to find that they could leave this Godforsaken house and by default, those Godforsaken dreams with it.
No such luck, Dr. J’s message stated that there were reasons beyond control that they must stay there, and it was unforeseeable events would conspire to allow them to move on. Heero sighed in frustration; at least he had tried. He glanced at the clock on the laptop out of habit, then did a double take. He had only been asleep for ten minutes. Heero groaned and sat lost in thought, as he stared out the window, waiting for the other pilots to come back.
~ ~ ~ ~
Duo restarted the car as Quatre buckled himself into the passenger seat, leaning it back slightly. The American swung the car out onto the street and began the drive back to the safe house while the slight blond crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back.
"Satisfied, Duo?" Quatre asked. "I cannot believe we stole books from a library. It seems a bit, I don’t know, wrong somehow. Terribly, terribly wrong."
"Quatre, we are terrorists, we blow things up. We try to reek havoc on a major military organization. I think stealing books from a library won't matter in the long run," Duo laughed as he started fiddling with the radio dial. "But I guess I know what you mean. I mean, well, the place lets you take books from it with nothing more than a promise that you’ll bring ‘em back. Uh, sorta, anyway," The American paused, listening to a station for a few seconds before settling on it. Then he continued. "Besides, it wasn’t terribly easy to take those damn books to begin with."
Quatre laughed as he remembered Duo forcing open a window on the second floor and "nonchalantly" tossing the books they wanted into a nearby bush. It was a wonder they had managed to keep up with them all, given the way they had skidded down the hill when they didn’t hit the bush just right. And then there was the local wildlife, er, well, animals anyway. A certain big smelly dog, to be precise. "I still can’t believe that dog tried to run off with one of them," the Arabian yawned as he tilted the seat the rest of the way back.
"Yeah, I know! We stole it fair and square. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let some stupid dog run off with my stuff," Duo said, glancing over at his dozing friend. "Quatre?"
"Wha?" Came the sleepy reply.
Duo snickered. "Late night last night?"
At least Quatre had the good sense to blush. "Uh, yeah, kinda. Oh, and I woke up in the middle of the night, too," he said. "How long till we get back?"
"Well, looking at the state of the road we took to get here…plus the fact that we should really take an alternate route to get back, you know, just in case. Then I’d say," Duo paused dramatically. "I have no idea. First way took an hour to get twenty miles. Stupid backroads. Go on, go to sleep. I can handle driving by myself."
"Thanks Duo. Cars just make me sleepy," the blond soldier yawned, stretching a little before settling back into the seat, his eyes drooping shut immediately.
~ ~ ~ ~
Back at the safe house, Trowa finished his adjustments on HeavyArms’ instrument panel and dropped down to the ground gracefully. He decided that Wufei had been worshipping Nataku long enough. Time for lunch. Besides, he didn’t want to listen to the Chinese boy rant about the injustice of sunburn.
When he was about halfway across clearing, Trowa noticed something was definitely not right about Wufei’s posture. Normally the boy sat ramrod straight, but now he was slumped slightly, arms slightly hugging his waist, his dark head bowed. His normally slicked back severe ponytail had little hairs escaping from it, tendrils of black silk framing his slack face.
Brow knit in concern, Trowa sped his pace and was soon standing over the Altron pilot. Being that much closer, he could now tell that Wufei also had blood on the upper portion of one of his arms. Trowa stared down at the pilot, expecting him to open his eyes and demand to know why he was being stared at, but Wufei just sat there, not moving a muscle. Knowing full well that Wufei would rarely let himself just bleed, never mind get into such a disheveled state without cleaning up unless he was in battle, Trowa tentatively crouched down beside the boy and lightly shook his shoulder.
"Wufei, wake up," Trowa whispered. He was forced to catch Wufei when the Chinese pilot began to fall over as a result of Trowa's tiny shake. Mildly alarmed by this, Trowa shook him a little harder, being sure to support the other pilot. "Wufei. Wake up, NOW," he said, much louder than before. Again, no response. This was highly irregular.
At a slight loss for what to do, he checked the unconscious boy’s forehead for a fever. He could tell that Wufei was breathing fine, just a bit more deeply than normal. Trowa had heard of deep sleepers, but this was ridiculous. Heero could self-destruct right under his nose, and Wufei wouldn’t wake up the way he was slumbering. Getting an idea, Trowa gently eased the Chinese pilot down onto the ground, where he lay, arms still hugging his waist slightly. Leaving the boy laying at Altron's feet, Trowa went to where he stored rations on HeavyArms. He returned to stand over Wufei and proceeded to dump a whole canister of water on his face. Still nothing.
Trowa shrugged fractionally and picked up the lightly snoring pilot, then headed back in the direction of the safe house. Maybe Heero could help.
~ ~ ~ ~
Duo whistled and sang along with the radio as he carefully navigated the car around potholes and over broken pavement. They were about halfway back to the safe house, and even though they weren’t making terribly good time, Duo was enjoying himself, completely content with the joy of driving. Besides, it was good to have his concentration on something external. Too often lately, he had found himself preoccupied with things he’d rather not think about at all. Mentally groaning, Duo realized that by thinking about how nice a distraction driving was, it reminded him of what he was trying not to think about to begin with. Life sucked like that.
First off, Heero’s weird nightmares had him worried about the Wing pilot. Having roomed with the Japanese boy many times before, he knew Heero rarely moved during his sleep, never mind waking up because of trivial dream. Oh, the horror, it might be detrimental to his status as a soldier. Lately, though, he kept tossing and turning in his sleep. Duo giggled. Shock! The Perfect Soldier is human after all! But then again, the severity of that morning’s dream to wake Heero so abruptly…and he was so disoriented when he woke up... That was a huge deviation from his normal behavior. It must have been one hell of a nightmare. Duo wished that Heero would tell him about it…
Well, that was just the beginning of Duo’s concerns over Heero Yuy, wasn’t it?
Heero had been gradually acting a lot differently as of late. More human and more caring about his fellow pilots, he was less like an emotionless automaton, showing signs of maybe even lightening up a bit. And the most confusing part of all was how he was treating Duo when they weren’t around the other guys. Like that episode that morning when he helped Duo clean the blood off of his forehead. The Japanese boy had been so gentle, and he was standing so close that the Deathscythe pilot could literally feel the heat coming off of his compact frame, Heero’s unique scent filling his nostrils…
Duo grinned. Now that was a line of thought that could get him into trouble. Just thinking about Heero was enough to get him going, thinking about him being so close was enough to make him almost drive off the side of the road. Mentally tucking away that particular fantasy for later contemplation, preferably in the shower or late that night, Duo sighed wistfully. Breaking down the Soldier’s barriers and becoming his friend was great, but…if only Heero wanted more. Duo wasn’t about to lose him completely, so platonic it would remain until otherwise initiated by the Wing pilot. Sometimes Duo could hardly hold himself back, but he wasn't going to scare Heero away. It was frustrating.
Duo checked his mirrors again for a tail, just in case. Satisfied that they still weren’t being followed, he turned on the final road to the house. Only a few more miles to go. He glanced over at Quatre, who had curled up sideways in the passenger seat as he slept. He was grateful that the Arabian had volunteered to go with him to town. Even if nothing came of the trip, Duo felt better for having done something about that weird incident in the kitchen. Getting out for a while had helped, too. Staying cooped up in that house was enough to drive Duo stir crazy.
Passing the decrepit ancient mailbox, Duo cheered quietly. Three miles until they were back. He was getting hungry.
~ ~ ~ ~
Meanwhile, Trowa and Heero were standing over the still sleeping Wufei. They had laid the Chinese boy out on the couch, just dumping him on top of the ratty cushions. The two quiet soldiers had tried everything short of smelling salts to wake the boy, but to no avail. The slumber he had fallen into appeared to be natural, and he looked peaceful, but he just wouldn’t come around. If it weren't so unnerving, it would be funny.
"I thought he was a light sleeper," Trowa said, dubiously lifting Wufei’s arm by the wrist and letting it fall limply.
"He is, or so he says. That’s why he always requests a single room," Heero replied. Then he continued, successfully keeping his voice neutral. "By the way, what happened to his arm?"
Trowa shrugged slightly. "The last time I looked over at him, he was sitting up straight at Altron’s feet. Then, well," he nodded in Wufei’s direction.
"Hn," Heero grunted thoughtfully. Surely it was only a coincidence that Wufei’s wound corresponded with where Scelestum had cut him. Heero was finding his line of purely rational thinking more and more difficult to keep up. Too much had happened that day that just didn't make sense. The soldier was unnerved.
Trowa left the room and returned with a med kit. He opened it and started to dab at the blood on Wufei’s arm, cleaning it. Hearing an engine, Heero turned and went to check the window. The car they had acquired had just appeared over the top of the last hill in the road, about a half-mile distant. Good, Duo would be back. Oh, and Quatre. Perhaps they could help with whatever was wrong with Wufei.
Heero’s eyes widened when he saw the car swerve suddenly, careening out of control. Before he could react further to the recklessly pitching vehicle, he whirled as he heard a choked gasp from behind him.
~ ~ ~ ~
Duo had just crested the last hill and sighted the safe house. Squinting, he could swear he glimpsed a figure in the window. Maybe it was Heero. Maybe he had been waiting for them, for him, maybe…Duo felt the wheel jerk in his hands. What the hell?
He looked down to see on of Quatre’s little hands grasping the top of the steering wheel and jerking at it haphazardly. The other hand was trying to unbuckle Duo’s seat belt.
"Quatre!? What the hell?! STOP!" Duo yelled, trying to control the vehicle and push the blond away at the same time. He was totally unsuccessful in this endeavor. Quatre was pulling at the wheel with almost insane vigor. Duo spared a second in his struggles to glance at the boy’s face. Shock hit Duo like a splash of cold water. Quatre’s eyes were closed, his face serene.
Quatre's eyelids were fluttering.
~ ~ ~ ~
Wufei was sitting up and was attempting to strangle Trowa. The Chinese boy’s eyes were closed, his eyelids fluttering slightly, as he squeezed, wrenching at Trowa’s, using his whole body for leverage as he bared down. Trowa struggled, hands grasping as the slender fingers circling his neck. It seemed to be a losing battle, for his face was already turning a nasty purplish blue, his breath completely halted, mouth gaping open as he futilely tried to breath.
Heero glanced back out the window, knowing he could do nothing for his friends in the car, and leapt across the room to aid Trowa. It was amazing that Wufei had caught the HeavyArms pilot by surprise, even more amazing that he had managed to do so much damage in the few seconds he had been throttling him. Heero wrenched at Wufei’s straining arms, noticing that the Chinese boy’s knuckles had turned white from the force of his grip. After a few seconds of tugging with all his considerable might, the Wing pilot finally managed to dislodge Wufei, freeing Trowa to collapse to the floor, gasping for air and holding his throat.
~ ~ ~ ~
His mind racing, Duo struggled for all he was worth. Obviously Quatre was not in control of himself. He had just been asleep. Maybe he was having a violent nightmare. Surely he wouldn’t try and kill Duo otherwise. At least Duo hoped not. The American frantically started stomping the brake pedal as he fought off the blond.
Duo felt like he was fighting a battle against a thousand Mobile dolls with nothing but a pocketknife as he tried to maintain control of the wheel and keep his seatbelt fastened. Duo felt the bottom of his stomach drop out as his seatbelt came loose. He sacrificed one hand from the wheel in a desperate attempt to refasten it. This turned out to be a mistake, since now both Quatre’s hands were fixed on the wheel. Feeling the vehicle slow, the blond had shifted in his seat so one leg could reach the gas peddle. Simultaneously he yanked the wheel and rammed the gas pedal to the floor. This done, he sat back in his seat and braced himself, eyes still closed but eyelids fluttering, face serene, and all the while utterly silent.
Duo gasped as the car began to spin hopelessly out of control. Still trying to secure his seatbelt, he heard a terrible squeal of rubber and metal grinding against worn gravel. The radio blared a happy little jingle, providing a surreal countermelody to the screech of the tires. After fishtailing sideways so that Duo’s side was facing the bottom of the hill, the car pitched and began a roll that was aimed straight for a colossal oak tree. Duo struggled with the belt fastener, braced his feet, clutched the steering wheel, closed his eyes, and screamed for all he was worth.
~ ~ ~ ~
As Heero tried to contain the mindless fury that had overtaken Chang Wufei, he heard a horrendous crash from outside. He felt something inside him lurch. The car. A soul sick feeling came over Heero as he twisted Wufei’s right wrist up behind his back to meet his left shoulder, an arm lock, in an effort to immobilize him. He had to see if Duo was okay. He also had to see if Quatre was okay, not to mention Trowa, who was still gasping on the floor. The sick feeling almost overwhelmed him when Wufei's jerked abruptly. The arm bone gave a sickening crack as it fractured.
"No! Make it STOP!" The desperate cry tore itself involuntarily from Heero’s throat, the helplessness, worry, confusion, and guilt raggedly crescendoing his voice instantly to a fevered pitch.
Wufei stopped.
~ ~ ~ ~
Outside, Duo opened his eyes. The car had thankfully avoided smashing into the tree, landing at an upright, slightly tilted, angle. The engine was still running. Duo thanked Shinigami that he had managed to click his seatbelt in place before the vehicle had started to roll, because if he hadn’t…well, he’d rather not think about it. They had tumbled end over end for almost a quarter mile, smashing the windows on the first inversion. He’d have probably went out the window and been crushed by the weight of the car if his belt hadn't been fastened. Not a pretty thought.
Duo groaned and gingerly flexed his arms. Looking himself over, he didn’t have any breaks or any noticeably gaping wounds. He sure as hell would be sore tomorrow morning, though. He winced as he tried to ease his feet through the maze of twisted metal the floorboard had become. At some point in the crash his shoes had managed to come off. Freeing himself from the seatbelt, he gathered up the courage to glance over at the cause of this whole mess.
Quatre was slumped in his seat, held in place by the seatbelt that he had been wearing the whole time. The Arabian appeared to be completely unharmed, despite being covered with tiny pieces of safety glass and surrounded by twisted metal. Duo gasped and moved towards closer to his door when Quatre's eyes flipped open and his breathing picked up. Slowly the blond boy's eyes came into focus as the pilot moaned lightly and fluttered a hand up to his chest.
"Duo? What happened? Did we wreck or something?" He asked softly, sitting up and turning to his aquamarine gaze on the flustered American. "Oh my gosh! Duo, are you okay? You look terrible!"
Duo bit his lip and stared at the Arabian staring anxiously at him. "Are you okay now Quatre?" He managed to ask softly.
"Huh? Yeah, I feel fine. I’m getting some really bad vibes right now, though. What happened?"
"You grabbed the wheel, unbuckled my seatbelt, and stomped the gas pedal, Q. The car went out of control, fishtailed, then rolled down the hill. In short, we are very lucky to be alive, never mind unscathed," Duo said bluntly, taking a few deep breaths and staring straight into Quatre’s eyes, searching for any sort of unusual reaction.
Quatre responded with a look pure of any malignance and full of shock and guilt. "I what? The last thing I remember is falling asleep. I swear, Duo, I—"
So Duo was right, Quatre must not have been aware of his actions. Must have been a spell of sleepwalking that had gone insanely wrong. Duo relaxed fractionally then sniffed the air.
Gasoline.
"Okay, okay, I believe you, Q-man, but I think we need to discuss this elsewhere. I smell gas fumes," Duo said as he futilely tried to open the twisted door.
Quatre nodded and tried his door, which was also a mass of dented metal. No luck there. Meanwhile, Duo tried to snake his hand around the glass and sharp plastic of the broken dashboard to get the key out of the ignition. He yelped and pulled his hand back trickling blood. Giving up, he surveyed the windows. Unfortunately, when the car had smashed down on the roof multiple times, it had caved partially in, almost to the point of crushing the tops of their heads. This made the windows sharp toothed maws that were too small to squeeze out of without risking losing something vital, like an arm.
The windshield was the next escape route to be ruled out. It was almost completely blocked by the curled and mutilated hood and front. Duo and Quatre exchanged a look and turned simultaneously to look at the back window. It was blocked by the twisted metal teeth of the caved in roof. The smell of gasoline was growing thicker by the second. A loud popping and grinding sound sputtered from the engine in front of them. Noxious black fumes had started to rise from the mangled front hood, seeping around and into the car, causing the soldiers to gag and choke. Turning back to each other, a look of hopelessness passed between the two as they choked on the fumes. They were trapped.
~ ~ ~ ~
Releasing the now motionless Chinese pilot, Heero leapt up and ran immediately to the window. What he saw made his heart sink. The remains car was about fifty feet away, tilted up on a small tree stump and a hideous black smoke was pouring from the crumpled hood. Nothing living could possibly come out of that distorted block of scrap. A terrible sense of loss and grief settled onto Heero’s psyche, simultaneously surprising him with the intensity of its hollowness. It threatened to overwhelm him. To lose his comrades in something outside of combat was never something he considered or prepared for. To be honest, it was never something he had even considered.
He felt a hand on his shoulder. Trowa, carefully holding his bruised throat, stood behind him, his visible eye wide with horror and fear.
"Quatre," the green eyed boy wheezed in alarm. He shook Heero’s shoulder and ran to the front door, vaulting down the front steps while still trying to get his breath back. Heero blinked and watched him out the window. He saw Trowa stumble, then pull himself up, lunging towards the vehicle before he was even steady on his feet. The car was now almost covered in smoke.
Heero mentally shook himself. He had to help. He had to allow for the possibility that Duo had survived. And here he was, standing there like shell-shocked child. Dread filling every fiber of his being, he too ran out the door. He wouldn’t let himself hope. Hope was for the weak, not for the soldier. Wufei's prostrate form was forgotten on the living room floor.
~ ~ ~ ~
"Alright, let's not panic," Duo coughed as he pulled his shirt collar up over his nose and mouth to filter through the smoke, muffling his voice. "The car's smoking, there's a gas leak, all the doors are twisted shut, and all the windows are blocked or squished too much to get out that way. Any ideas?"
Quatre turned and squinted through the smoke at the back window again. He carefully slid into the remains of the backseat and peered down out through the space. "Duo, the trunk popped open," he said, speech muffled as he covered his mouth and nose with his hand. "If we can get through the backseat, we may be able to crawl out that way." The look in his eyes conveyed that this was a big maybe, but at least it was better than nothing.
"Great idea, Q-man!" Duo said, yelling over the increasing volume of the popping and hissing engine. He eased himself over the front seat, ducking under the sharp points protruding from the collapsed roof to join Quatre in the backseat. He fumbled through his pants pockets and produced a lock blade knife. He started hacking at the fabric of the seat.
A moment later Quatre had a knife of his own out and aided Duo in frantically demolishing the seat's upholstery. Duo just threw him a look of surprise at the wicked looking blade. Quatre shrugged and smiled crookedly between strangled coughs. They were running out of time. The smoke was growing hot, searing their lungs, and it was so thick they could barely see the backs of the front seats. The engine sounded ready to explode.
Just when it was getting almost impossible to keep breathing, they heard a yell outside. Heero. They moved back from the seat just in time to avoid having their hands cut off by a piece of twisted fender. After a few slashes, the seat had a hole large enough to crawl through.
Quatre went first, pulled the rest of the way from the jagged wreckage by Trowa's strong arms. Duo then dove through, forcing his head and arms forward in a desperate lunge to get out of the rapidly heating interior and now roaring engine fire. He was surprised to find himself being yanked out of the pointed debris and gathered like a baby into a pair of blood slicked arms. Coughing he looked up into the mask of Heero's determined face. He wrapped both arms around the Japanese pilot's neck.
When Trowa and Heero had carried their precious burdens about half the distance to the house, the car exploded in a fiery mushroom cloud, emitting a shock wave that stank of engine fluid and gasoline. Thrown forward by the impact of the condensed air, Heero stumbled and stopped running to steady himself. He clutched Duo tightly to his chest as the braided teenager gasped and coughed.
Trowa didn't stop to put Quatre down until they had reached the front of the house. He gently eased the coughing Arabian down to sit on one of the steps before kneeling anxiously in front of him, peering with intense worry filled eyes as he looked at his little love's soot-stained face. Quatre managed to stop coughing for a moment and smiled serenely at Trowa's concern and nodded his head. A look of pure elation and relief passed over the silent boy's features as he lunged forward suddenly, capturing Quatre in a fierce embrace. Quatre returned the hug and buried his face in the crook of Trowa's shoulders and neck, eliciting a fierce gasp from the taller boy. Quatre gasped softly as he noticed the severe hand-shaped bruises encircling his love's neck before pulling him close in another hard embrace. They were in their own world of mutual love and concern.
Meanwhile, Heero stood, still holding Duo to his chest as they both stared at the flames that were quickly enveloping and melting the steel frame of the wreckage. Heero's expression betrayed unguarded disbelief. Mere seconds had determined Duo and Quatre's lives. If they hadn't acted when they did, the two would have been burned alive within the confines of a twisted metal prison.
Heero stared at the flames enveloping the backseat, reviewing the past minute in his head. He had immediately realized that the doors and windows were not options of entering the vehicle and retrieving the bodies. Heero would never forget the profound exhilaration he had felt when he noticed sounds coming from through the mangled trunk space. Shielding his eyes, he had managed to wrench free a piece of sharp metal from part of the mangled side door, cutting himself badly and inhaling some of the burning smoke. The sharp metal he ripped free had been heated by the fire and was burning hot, but Heero hadn't noticed as he yelled a warning and plunged it into the fabric at the back of the seat. All he could think of was getting Duo out of there. When Quatre had emerged first from the fabric, he had almost had a heart attack. What if Duo hadn't survived the crash? What if he had been unconscious, unable to be pulled free by the blond pilot? When Duo's head had popped out, relief completely obliterated his previous elation by nearly knocking him off his feet.
Heero was jolted back to reality when Duo clutched at the fabric of his tank top, seized by an intense fit of choked hacking. A wave of protectiveness melted over Heero as he held the American securely and walked the rest of the way to the safe house. There would be time for contemplation over these new feelings and emotions later. Right now he had to care for Duo's health.
Climbing past the still embracing Trowa and Quatre on the stairs, he glanced down at them and paused. A look passed between Heero and Trowa, and Trowa pulled away from Quatre, taking his hand gently instead. The four entered the house, Heero carrying Duo first, followed closely by the couple. Heero gasped despite himself.
Wufei was gone.
Deciding not to worry about the missing Altron pilot for the time being, Heero stalked into the room, carrying Duo to the couch. Trowa and Quatre followed him into the room, Quatre clutching the hand of the HeavyArms pilot for aid in keeping upright.
After a few minutes of work with the med kit that was still in the room, both Duo and Quatre had been patched up and had mostly stopped coughing. Duo's arm that had been cut when he tried to remove the keys from the ignition thankfully didn't require stitches. They relayed what had happened to the two groups, then checked the wreckage to make sure the fire had died out. It wouldn't due to have their safe house catch fire.
Then Duo and Quatre returned the favor of medical care, the Arabian fussing over Trowa's bruised neck while the American treated the mild burns and lacerations Heero had received from the hot metal of the wreckage.
Explaining and medical care finally done, the four sat for a few moments in silence. Trowa still wouldn't let go of Quatre, staying as close as possible to the blond boy going so far as to pull him into his lap. Heero had to seated himself very close to Duo on the couch when the American had patched up his arms, the move dictated by necessity, but when the task was finished he hadn't moved. Duo didn't seem to mind, but he kept biting his lip and glancing over at the Japanese pilot, trying to gauge his mood. After fidgeting for a few minutes during the silence, Duo couldn't stand it any longer.
"Don't you think we should find Wufei?" He spoke up, coughing lightly. "You said he had a broken arm, right? Plus, since he tried to kill Trowa and all, don't you think we should locate him to prevent him from attacking someone else? He's obviously not in his right mind."
"Hn," Heero considered this for a moment. "Good idea. Not alone, though."
"Okay, we should go in pairs, then" Quatre said thoughtfully. "Trowa and I will take the attic and upstairs, you guys could check this level and the basement. We'll meet here later and then go outside together. How's that sound?"
The other three nodded their approval. Trowa and Quatre got up and headed for the stairs, leaving Duo and Heero still seated on the couch. Duo moved to get up, but Heero stopped him with a hand on the arm.
"Heero?" Duo looked at the Wing pilot questioningly.
Heero didn't move his hand and looked squarely down, gaze fixing on the ground. "I just wanted to say that I'm glad you're not dead," he said flatly before moving his stare to focus on Duo's wide eyes. He opened his mouth again as though to speak, then closed it quickly.
Duo felt his heart hitch in his chest at the emotion betrayed in Heero's eyes. A smile far different than his normal grin grew on his face. "Thank you for saying that, and thank you for saving me, Heero," he said softly, gazing into the Japanese boy's intensely blue eyes. He lightly grasped the hand Heero had laid on his arm, intertwining their fingers in a move that felt natural and right.
"You confuse me, Duo," Heero said quietly, not breaking their gaze. He squeezed Duo's hand carefully.
"I do my best," Duo replied softly.
Heero's brow knit together and he sighed, breaking their stare and handclasp to stand up. "We have to find Wufei," He stated stoically.
Duo almost screamed in frustration. Damnit! They had been so close…he felt his heart sink, and he tried to plaster a grin onto his face to cover it. Heero looked down at him expectantly before holding his hand out to help him up. Duo grinned and took it and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. To his absolute delight, Heero didn't let go immediately.
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