3-5-2001

Title: Death and Politics
Author: Maxwell's Demon
Disclaimers: Uh, Gundam Wing. Not mine.
Completed: --/--/--
Pairings: 1x2, 3x4
Warnings: Language, shounen ai/yaoi, death(s), angst, sap, humor, AU, suicide(s), OOCness
Author's Notes and/or Comments: Well… I don't know much about politics, because I just frankly don't care about them, so all of the politics stuff might be a little off. Forgive me. ^^;;

"..." = Speech
/.../ = Thought

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Chapter 2

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Gasping in air, Heero's chest felt like it was on fire. "We have a pulse!" he heard someone yell. He was dizzy, his vision was hazy, and he was as confused as a chicken running around with his head chopped off. Except that he couldn't die.

"Take it easy now, Mr. Yuy," another doctor said. "You're going to be just fine." /No shit, you accursed hell monkey,/ Heero thought angrily. Or, thought as angrily as he could. His mind felt a little fuzzy, but he figured it was only because he was dead about three minutes ago. Go figure.

After the various doctors and nurses decided he was stable enough, they allowed a pair of police officers into the room. "Good afternoon, Mr. Yuy," one of them said, tipping his hat slightly.

"I am Officer Treize Khushrenada, and this is my partner, Officer Zechs Marquise. We're here to ask you about the events that occurred today," the taller of the two explained. "What do you remember exactly, Mr. Yuy?"

/To Hell with lying. They can't see him anyway,/ Heero thought. "A boy, about my age, came into the room. He had long chestnut brown hair, tied back in a braid. And he also had violet eyes. I am guessing that he was about five foot four, plus or minus an inch. Delicate build, slim. He looked very agile. He had a small, rounded face, and large eyes. I'm assuming he is American. He looked somewhat like a girl, but was definitely male. Pale skin. His voice was soft, but slightly loud. He came into the room, said, `I'm afraid that won't be much of a help, Mr. Yuy,' and proceeded to shoot me in the mouth with a small hand pistol, I'm guessing a twenty-one twenty- one Deathscythe Hell, version two, " Heero nodded, feeling sure of himself. "He wore a black Priest's top with an I-collar, and black jodhpur pants, with black combat boots."

Both police officers stared at him stupidly. A minute of silence passed, and then Zechs cleared his throat. "Yes, well… very good then. That was a very, ah – "

"Thorough and detailed report," Treize finished for Zechs. The blonde man nodded in agreement.

"I have a photographic memory," Heero said intelligently. "And a fascination with guns. I own the same model that the attacker used."

"Right," Zechs nodded. "Um, right. How do you explain the fact that you lived through this? They told us that you suffered no brain damage, even though the bullet went clear through your head."

"I have no idea," was Heero's simple reply. /Damn it, I'm a hacker, not a doctor!/

"Well," Treize stood after he finished jotting down some notes, "we shall be leaving you to your rest, Mr. Yuy. Thank you for your cooperation. We may stop by again, and we'll be sure to keep in touch and inform you on any progress in this investigation."

"It was me!" a familiar voice belted out suddenly. Heero glanced behind the two men, spotting Duo. "I did it! I stole the cookie from the cookie jar!" Heero couldn't help himself and came to the conclusion that this Duo Maxwell was perhaps the strangest person he has ever met in his entire life. The police officers turned, walking right through Duo as they left the room. "Fine, ignore me! A hundred evilly diseased ferrets in various stages of decomposition upon your filthy little heads," Duo sniffled sarcastically, then looked at Heero with a grin plastered on his face. "I'm back!"

"You overwhelm me with your talent of stating the obvious," Heero grumbled grumpily.

Duo made a face. "Jeez, who pissed in YOUR cornflakes!?"

"You talk too much," Heero informed the braided boy.

"You should see me on a sugar high. No one can shut me up!" Duo grinned proudly. "Anyways. As soon as you get your little supposed-to-be-dead ass outta this joint, I'm gonna need to kill you again to meet with Quatre."

"Why do you need to kill me?" Heero asked.

"It's the only way you can see him. And read over all the legal mumbo jumbo papers he'll be bringing. Would you rather kill yourself?" Duo asked.

"I would, actually. I'd like at least some control over this hellish situation," Heero snorted.

Duo shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat, man." He looked around. Feeling bored, he said, "I'm bored. Wanna play `I Spy'?"

"I spy with my little eye something wearing all black that needs to get his ass out of my room so I can rest." Heero grumbled.

"Wow… that's a good one! I have no idea what it could be," Duo grinned, heading towards the door. "Okay, I get your drift. I'll catch ya later!" he said, then left. Heero fell asleep almost a minute later. Coming back from the dead twice in one day can really wear a guy out!

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Heero didn't see Duo again until two days later, when he was released from the hospital. The doctors didn't know why or how he managed to live through everything, but he was perfectly healed and in good enough shape to go home.

"I am the Ghost of Christmas Past," someone whispered into Heero's ear, then fell backwards into a fit of giggling.

Heero glared down at the violet eyed boy laughing on the floor. "That wasn't funny. Now get out of my bedroom."

"You wanna shoot yourself, or shall I?" Duo asked as he flopped down onto Heero's bed.

"Quatre's here?" Heero asked.

"Yup," Duo confirmed. Heero nodded. The Japanese man stood up, walking over to a large chest. Opening it, he revealed many guns, swords, and other objects that promised death, great pain, or dismemberment. Ignoring the more painful looking weapons, Heero selected a pure white pistol. "My favorite weapon," Heero said, admiring the polished nozzle. "It's the Wing Zero. Custom made. The only white gun in existence." He showed Duo the elegant engraving on the handle. The engraving was filled in with pure onyx, in the shape of a cross enveloped between two angelic looking wings. "I can see why you have Wing in the name, but why Zero?" Duo asked.

"That's the number of times I have missed." Heero placed the gun to his temple and fired.

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Heero didn't wake up in Duo's arms this time. "You're right Duo, he is kinda – " Someone's voice, he didn't recognize it, was interrupted by Duo.

"Shh! He's coming to. Heero?" Heero rubbed his eyes, sitting up and looking around for the source of the voices. Sitting cross- legged on his bed, next to Duo was a lithe, young looking blonde boy. Two white angel wings sprouted from his back, and Heero concluded that this boy must be Quatre. "You're Quatre, right?" he asked.

The angel smiled and extended a hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Yuy," he said.

Heero shook the boy's hand. "Call me Heero."

"So informal already? Trowa would not approve," Quatre said, giving him a playful jab in the ribs. Heero shrugged. "Well, seeing how enthusiastic you are about conversation, let's get started, shall we?" Quatre took out a stack of papers, Heero couldn't determine from where exactly, and put them in front of Heero. "I need you to sign those. I'll explain each page as we go along," Quatre said, giving him such an innocent and sweet smile that it would make you sick to your stomach. "The first page is basically saying that you realize Duo here is your caseworker. You know, just making it official."

Heero nodded, reaching for a pen to sign the paper with. "Aa, wait a moment, Heero… you can't sign it like that," Quatre said. "You have to sign it with your body's blood."

"Duo said that we can't touch things in the living world in this state," Heero said.

Quatre explained, "You can't, except for your own body."

"This spiritual shit is too complicated for me," Heero mumbled. "So, what, I just prick my body's finger with a needle?"

Quatre nodded. "Exactly. Then just press the finger on this line right here," he said, pointing to the bottom of the page. Heero stood, walking over to his bedside table and opening the top drawer. He pulled out a mini, travel sized sewing kit, and removed one of the needles. Coming back over to the pair on his bed, he glared at their questioning looks. "You never know," he growled. Heero picked up his body's hand, pricking the index finger with the needle. As he pressed the finger on the line, the paper absorbed the drop of blood, and his signature suddenly seemed to burn into the paper.

"Very good," Quatre smiled, setting the signed paper to the side. "Now, the next paper states that you are aware that you are, in fact, dead. It continues on to say that you understand and acknowledge how the death system works, and have been explained on how the procedures work, and what to expect."

"But I don't," Heero replied.

"Duo! You didn't explain this to him? That's part of your job, you know," Quatre scolded. Duo threw his hands up in the air, shrugging. "Well, excuse me! My bad, I'll do it later," Duo said.

"No, you'll do it now. The papers are here now, I am here now, so get your bony butt in gear!" Quatre yelled halfheartedly.

"Oi! That's hitting below the belt, buddy! You know how sensitive I am about having a bony butt," Duo said, grinning and sniffling sarcastically. He turned to face Heero. "Okay then. You comfy? This may take a while, and it's really boring," Duo said.

Heero nodded, and Duo began to explain.

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To be continued! ^^;