12-3-2000

 

FiND ME (13/20-something-esque, i think. not sure yet, still. LOL.)

 

Heero disgustedly turned the water on as hot as he could take it without getting hyperthermia. He walked in, gasped at the heat, then began furiously scrubbing at himself. The water poured in rivulets, down his face, down his body. And all he wanted to do was peel off his top layers of skin, peel away the touch of...

Gritting his teeth, Heero forced himself to think of something else. Maybe he should call Trowa back. Or get it touch with other people from Operation S. He knew at least Relena would appreciate a call.

-----*
"Tell me," Trowa gritted between his teeth. "Tell me why and tell me everything."

The girl before him cowered slightly, but her defiant statement held. "And if I said I loved him?"

Trowa's statement was understanding, but the anger didn't leave. "He loved him, too."

Her eyes flashed.
*-----

Duo buried his face in his pillow, willing himself not to cry. Boys didn't cry.

'He's not worth it,' he finally told himself contemptuously. 'And I'm fucking weak to cry over somebody like this. Damn it.'

He rolled over on to his back to stare hopelessly at the cracked ceiling above him. A hand reached up, trying to reach for something barely out of range. Violet eyes closed slightly, and the images in front of him warped into the pictures of memories he'd been trying to destroy for a long time.

'It's like...

'I never volunteered to have the shit beaten out of my life. But I damned well tried to adjust afterwards. Ran away from home 'cause I had enough sense to realize that whoever went after the rest of my family might come after me. Luckily everything my parents own is in a trust and I can get it when I'm 18, but do I want that kind of publicity? Do I want to be an open target?

'I wonder if my relatives ever tried looking for me. I was so scared I didn't think straight, I just took the first plane to New York City and found Father Maxwell. The best Father in the world. And he took me in and took care of me. And now he's gone, too. I seem to bring death with me wherever I go.

Duo shifted slightly and glanced around the room, at his meager belongings. Everything he owned, his whole life, was composed of a room sparsely filled with junk. Some clothes, a few books... nothing much.

'I really wonder why I don't try to kill myself sometimes. Life is too fucking addicting, I suppose.

'I'm seventeen but I feel like I'm 40. I've definitely gone through enough shit to be over that. I can understand people, now; everything is driven by a raw need inside. And that need is either sex, money, or power. That's all it is. The marks come because they want the sex, they want to see what their money can bring them, or they want the power over having a little kid cower beneath them. Sick. Fucking sick.'

------*
"Hey, Heero," Trowa turned his head and spoke softly as Heero entered the room. "You have a follow-up mission."

Heero glanced over at him before throwing his jacket onto his chair. "Follow-up to whose mission."

Trowa turned back to his computer, blindly shuffling through a few papers next to him. He glanced at one. "Here." He held it out. "Follow-up to one of yours."

Frowning in bafflement, Heero walked over to take the sheet of paper. "I don't think I've ever had a mission that needed a follow-up." His eyes scanned over the printout. "Oh."

"What is it?" Trowa's attention was redirected to the computer.

Mission: Kill or sufficiently incapacitate one Tristan Michael Mordaux
Mission Parameters: Tristan Mordaux, son of Morgan Mordaux and Noelle Mordaux. Aged 17 years. Heir to Morgan and Noelle Mordaux. Other 3 members of immediate family (parents and sister) were killed 7 years ago.

The paper went on for about half a page, but memories were flashing back in Heero's mind. It had been his first mission, killing Morgan Mordaux and his wife and daughter. The son had been allowed to live then, because he hadn't been viewed as a threat. Apparently someone decided that if Tristan, who hadn't been located since, somehow rose back to his father's status upon turning 18, he would also be a threat. Tristan must be eliminated, then.

"What's it about?" came Trowa's nonchalant query.

"Just have to kill someone." The tone was flat, the attitude uncaring. Heero shrugged and sat down. "They're not giving me a mission completion date."

"I think you've got until the kid turns 18, Heero," Trowa drawled.

Heero smirked slightly. "You seem to know everything about this. Feel like enlightening me?"

Trowa started to laugh.

But the laughter was drowned out by the screaming in Heero's mind. He could remember the girl, 18 or so at the time, yelling at her younger brother to run away to a friend's house. How she'd stood in his way and wouldn't move until he'd fired several rounds into her. Calmly. Emotionlessly.

The father had tried to fight him - he'd wielded his own gun. But all it had taken was Tobias with a knife at his wife's throat. And then they'd both been killed.

For what? Heero wasn't sure. He wasn't paid to know. He was paid to execute.

Closing his eyes, he could see the fire licking at everything as he'd blown up the Mordaux residence. The buildings would be left as charred remains, memories or perhaps something that had been. The little boy would return home to blackened ruins.

Eleven-year-old Heero hadn't cared.

Eighteen-year-old Heero was troubled at the memory.
*-----

After having fallen onto a nearby chair, Heero realized he was hungry. Phone calls would have to wait; he wanted to get himself breakfast of sorts. A glance at the clock told him it was nearly 10:30.

He dressed in the first clean clothes he could find, and left his room, heading for the street. Perhaps a small cafe would be nice. Someplace soothing, not too loud, but not so quiet he would find himself mulling over what had happened.

Right outside the hotel was exactly what he'd been looking for. The waiter warily eyed him, probably wondering why someone was in the cafe at half past 10. Most people were in work. Heero ordered coffee and some banana bread, which came quickly. Then he sat in his booth, munching at the bread, sipping at the coffee, and staring out the window.

'What happened?'

The voice rose unbidden in his mind. Heero glared at the banana bread in his hand, willing the thoughts to go away.

'Something happened. He hid behind that mask of his again. And I - I hid behind mine.'

With a sigh, Heero realized he may as well think it out now, because he would have to think it out eventually.

'He was seducing me again. Like it was all he could do; I don't want him to seduce me. For some reason... I want to protect him. He looked so vulnerable for last night. And then this morning it all went down the drain. Heero no baka. Did I really think he would open up to me? Why do I want him to open up to me?'

Heero angrily munched another mouthful of bread, carefully sweeping crumbs into a napkin. He could feel the waiter watching him, probably wondering what the hell was up with this guy.

'This is beyond ridiculous. I've fallen for a hooker. I should tell Trowa to come out here with a sledgehammer and whack me one over the head. Maybe that'll bring my sanity back.'

He paid for his meal and walked outside into the brisk, slightly chilly air. The skies were slightly gray still, and leaves were fluttering around. One whisked by his hair, got tangled, untangled itself, then went back on its merry way.

-----*
"Mail for you." Trowa threw an envelope at Heero. "Stop moping for a minute and read it, Heero. It's from someone named Meiran Chang."

Heero's head shop up from his arms, his eyes slightly wide and wild. "What?"

Trowa sighed, retrieved the enveloped which had fallen off on Heero's head, and opened it. "Read," he said firmly.

Dear Mr. Heero Yuy,

My name is Chang Meiran. I believe you probably have a few questions I can answer.

I know you believed one Chang Wufei to be dead after whatever explosion had occurred. I have no asked him about what exactly he was doing there and he has not volunteered any such information. I found him in the hospital I work in; he was brought in unconscious and on the brink of death. Luckily we were able to revive him.

When he woke up it was clear that his memory was somewhat patchy. He could remember his name and various other names, but here and there things were gray. We are currently working on retrieving his memory, sir.

From what he does remember, he has told me about what he had been doing for the past few years, and about you. Please don't be alarmed, he was initially very secretive. I finally convinced him to give me some information.

How did I convince him? My name is Chang Meiran, I am 19, and Wufei is my younger brother. I have been searching for him for 4 years now.

I promise you I will not reveal what he has told me, but I will extract a promise out of you in recompense.

Leave Wufei alone. I don't want him to ever hear from you again. From what he tells me he was trained as an assassin in your headquarters. You took my brother and made a killer out of him. How do you and your compatriots go to sleep at night? I wonder if I should in mercy let Wufei stay with only part of his memory rather than have to relive murder.

You were his lover, I hear. When he was 7 years old he was engaged to the daughter of a family friend. As she still lives and he is now returned, their marriage will be as soon as he is well enough to leave the hospital. You are not invited into his life anymore.

I hope you live out your life however you please; whether to kill or whether you change, I care not. I only care that my brother is no long require dot do such things for his livelihood. Thank you for keeping him alive and well for me, but that as all I can thank you for.

-Chang Meiran

Trowa was reading over Heero shoulder. He'd barely read the last line when the paper was violently crumpled up and thrown across the room. Heero pressed his eyes shut fiercely, willing himself not to cry.
*-----

Heero returned to his room, having nothing else to do.

"Trowa," Heero spoke to the wall. "Why did you send me here? I'm bored, I'm restless, and I'm..." He stopped, forcing thoughts of Duo away again.

The phone rang and Heero jerked out of his reverie.

"Hello?"

"Heero? It's Quatre."

Heero smiled as his best friend's lover came into view, his face slightly anxious. "Hi Quatre, how are you?"

"*I'm* fine, but what about *you*?" Quatre could be very to-the-point at times.

The smile dripped off Heero's face as he slumped into the chair. "All right?" he attempted. "I know, I'm really not," he added, before Quatre could say anything.

"Trowa said everything was okay when he called a couple hours ago; what happened?"

"Stuff," Heero answered dully. "I'm not even sure. It just went by too quickly, and I'm left with the aftermath."

"You sent him away," Quatre translated. "Why?"

Heero gave a short bark of laughter. "I... thought I'd gotten through to him. But then he turns and starts seducing me again. I couldn't have him around like that."

"So you fucked him, paid him, sent him away." Again the bluntness.

"Aa."

A smile twitched onto Quatre's face. "Understandable. Want him?"

Heero stared at Quatre. "How are you, the most blunt person in the world, a businessman?" he queried.

Quatre began to laugh. "Oh, Heero. I'm not *always* like this," he giggled. "People would have my head if I went around being as direct as I am to my friends, I agree." His statement sobered. "Would you like to talk about it? Maybe not to me, but Trowa?" He glanced to someone out of pick-up range, Heero assumed it to be Trowa.

Heero shook his head. "No thanks. I'll be fine." His eyes belied his words.

A sigh. Heero glanced up to see Quatre slumped into his own chair, watching Heero intently. "Hm?"

Quatre shrugged. "I was just thinking." Another glance to the side. Then a glance to the other side. "Oh, hi Rasid." He turned his attention back to Heero quickly. "Rasid is driving us out this afternoon and I suppose it's time to leave now." Softer, "You sure you'll be okay?"

Smiling, Heero nodded. "I'll be fine, Quatre. You and Trowa have fun, okay?"

With a grin, Quatre chirped, "Bye, Heero," and turned off the phone.

'Do I 'want' him?' Heero thought to himself as he turned off the phone. 'Is that it? Do I want to see him again? Ch', this is driving me crazy.'

He ran a hand roughly through his hair and leaned his neck backwards, staring at the ceiling.

'I'm going crazy, aren't I?' he chuckled to himself. 'I came here to get a vacation, unwillingly, and now all I want to do is see one violet-eyed hooker who's only intent is seducing me and getting my money. K'so, this is getting ridiculous.'

Abruptly he leaned forwards again and brought his laptop closer to him.

 

Duo peeked outside to see the street lights turning on, indicating night was coming. He turned around and glared at his sparse closet.

Bella poked her head in. "Having trouble picking clothes again?"

Rolling his eyes, Duo nodded. "As always."

"May I help?" Bella grinned.

Duo gave her a sweeping bow and stepped backwards. "Be my guest."

Having walked into the room, she began poking through the contents of the closet, murmuring opinion to herself and Duo watched in amusement. "Think he's coming back again?" Bella asked, making small-talk.

Silence. After 2 minutes, Bella turned her head over her shoulder to see Duo staring at the ground. "Koi?" she said gently.

"I don't know," he said stiffly.

Softer, she added, "Do you want him to?"

Neither moved for a moment. Then, with a self-exasperated sigh, Duo ran a hand through his messy braid. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "Part of me does... and part of me doesn't. Damn, I've see the guy for two nights and he's making me like this? Bella, hit me. Hard."

Bella shook her head in refusal and went back to the closet. She took down a couple articles of clothing. "Here. And no, I won't hit you. He sounds like a damned confused guy. If he comes back, which I think he will, give him another chance. And," she added, looking Duo straight in the eye, "try talking. Seducing gets you nowhere except his wallet. Right now, I think you'd prefer to be in his arms," she finished, slowly.

Duo gave her a small, mute, nod.

With a small smile, more a quirk of her lips, Bella held out the clothing.

Duo surveyed the outfit. Carefully and stylishly ripped ass-fitting jeans, gray mesh shirt, gray ribbon for his hair. Setting it down on a chair, he grabbed a brush and began yanking in through his hair. Bella rolled her eyes, took the brush from him, and began untangling his hair in a gentler manner.

"Thanks," Duo finally said.

"For what?"

"Hm. Everything?"

 

And Heero found himself leaving the hotel at 10 o'clock again, taking the subway, walking down that road. Inwardly, he winced, but his outward statement was the same as always.

The lights were glaringly bright, and there seemed to be more hookers than there had been the two nights before. Several gave him a lookover appreciatively, until someone elbowed them and whispered a few words.

Heero wove his way through the crowd of people until he was across the street from Duo's perch, again. Squinting through the gaudy colors and lights, he could make out the boy with the braid, trying not to look at him. Talking to some girl.

After stopping for a moment to gaze at Duo, Heero began walking across the street.

 

Duo had caught site of Heero and immediately averted his eyes.

"He's here, huh?" came Bella's voice right behind him. He turned his head as she stood beside him. And nodded.

Bella squeezed his hand reassuringly. "You gonna be okay? Want me to cover for you and you can stay home tonight?"

Duo shook his head slightly, still trying not to make eye contact. "I don't think it works like that," he said softly. "Gotta face my fears, right? Gotta face life head on, and everything. I'll be fine."

Bella gave Duo a quick sisterly hug, then blended into the group behind them as Heero came up to him.

"Want to come with me?"

As those words came softly out from Heero's lips, Duo forgot to be sexy and seductive and instead swallowed, nodded, and averted his eyes again. Heero let himself smirk slightly and began walking away. Duo followed.

They walked to the subway they'd gone to the other two nights, and Heero patiently waiting for the subway to come, as Duo fidgeted slightly. All he knew how to do was to be seductive... but he didn't want to seduce Heero.

'Talk to him, she says,' Duo thought cynically. 'He doesn't talk. Ah, fuck, Bella, this is going nowhere.'

Duo was about to brush up against Heero when the subway pulled up and Heero walked in, securing two seats. He indicated Duo was to sit in one.

It would be 16 stops until they reached their destination and Duo knew from previous experience that no matter what he did in the subway, it wouldn't make a difference. With a sigh, he settled for sitting silently, unmoving, hands resting lightly on his thighs.

Until he felt another hand creep over carefully. It rested on Duo's hand for a moment, then shyly held it, interlacing their fingers.

In a state of shock, Duo glanced up at Heero, who only blinked and stared back.

A small but comfortable smile slid onto Duo's features as he leaned against Heero's unobjecting shoulder. He felt a hand touch his bangs lightly and he closed his eyes in contentment.

 

 

aaawwww, see? i made them get together in the end. i'm giving y'all nice happy, sappy parts in the middle. ^______^

 

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