Title: Too Much Coffee
Author: Sunday
Part: 2/?
e-mail: all_in_leather@y...
Notes: This part is not supposed to make sense. At all. In case you were wondering. NO Heero is not imagining what is happening at the end, yes there is something very wrong with my brain, and YES I do think that this part is substantially weaker. Why? You may ask….WELL…it is all YOUR FAULT!!!! I love you all * glomps * NEVER have I gotten such a glowing response, I must have squealed happily over my computer for HOURS last night, staring at the responses, and I nearly * died * when I saw how many there was. I was expecting, at most, three replies, but…aww… * tears up again *
Jaden: what the Baka is _ trying _ to say is: she could not be depressing when all of this amazing response came in. In other words, she was so totally flabbergasted, that she sat at her computer for a full twenty minutes reading the replies…then she realized that she was expected to finish the fiction.
Sunday: right…THANK YOU SO MUCH TO ALL OF YOU!!!!! * takes a deep breath * truth be told, I was seriously thinking of trashing this fic after this attempt, really I was. But all of you made me want to continue, and really…oh great, now I'm going to cry again.

(who showed me the wrong of my psychopath, and sociopath mix-up, THANK YOU!!!!! *Glomp *)
(* big watery anime eyes* I-I don't know what to say to that response, I still don't. But to be truthful, I broke down and cried in happiness…there, now after confessing, I feel like an idiot. *glomp *)
Oriana ( eep! I hope your head-ache clears, hon. * glomp*)
Misuzu (*glomp* thank you so much!!! I will take your advice…write… write more…until I'm written out)
Sayr (WOOHOOO! More dark people * glomp *
Casey (*glomp* me glad!!!)
(Aww crap, I'm gonna cry again. First Sony, then this, after a cruddy day at work, to say the least, I was all water works for half an hour, as I read it, reread it, and tried to figure out what in God's name I was doing right, Liz, ya know that the only reason that I continue this rather futile exercise, is you. Thank you so much for grinning and bearing my rather awful drafts re-drafts, pre-drafts, idea-drafts, and daffy-Jaden tendencies. *GLOMP *.)

Now I'm absolutely certain that this next part is going to bomb in the expectation ratings…argh…I can't write dark, I'm too depressingly happy!!!!


Too Much Coffee.
Part 2

And if I where to have wings, they would be black, like the tar, and the souls of those I lived by.

The colour of dried blood, of which I had seen too much.

They would reflect the dying light of the innocents I had slaughtered.

They would bring them to their full brightness, and bury me in that shimmering blindness.

I would act without hesitation, without delay, because my wings would carry me, and my dead eyes would never stop me.

I would see only the light, and never the cause, or the result.

I would see nothing, as the light grew brighter, the cause greater, the result more ambitious.

I would see nothing, not even as I tripped over their bodies.


Quatre gaped into the darkness. The onyx was so overpowering that he could not make anything out, the shadows swallowing what little there was of his sight, pressing themselves to his belly, licking at the corners of his vision. Sparks of light seemed to bloom within the obsidian, flashing before folding in, and surrendering to the opressing and thick darkness. His breath came in short inhalations, overpowered by the sickening black, his body shaking.

He knew that there was someone there, that there here was someone in his room, that there was someone on his bed, leaning over his body, staring into his eyes.

His breath sped up, and his heart quickened. The thickened darkness, like tar, not allowing any releif from the fear that raced over his nerves. He shivered lightly as the person's soft exhalations washed over his face.

`Not for long.' he thought angrily, his hand shooting out and grasping where he estimated the other's neck to be. He did not wonder excessively as to why he had naturally assumed the person to have a body similar to Duo's. The only thing that he was relishing was the slight choked breath that came from the figure that he was calmly strangling, while laying on his back in bed.

A soft click filled the room, and Quatre became aware of the nozzle of a gun resting coldly upon the sweaty skin of his temple. He tried to move his right hand, only to find that it was pinned beneath his body. He frowned, before releasing his grip. The frown grew as a menacing chuckle filled the room.

"Heero says, wakey wakey."

Quatre's frown deepened, as he stared up into the still darkness. He realized that the body above his radiated no heat. Slowly he lifted his hand, brushing across Duo's face, and down the boy's neck. Feeling the prickle of goose bumps on the feverish flesh. All that heat, and still, he could feel non of it through the covers. The hands traveled down Duo's spine, and he realized, with a start, that the boy was straddling him on the bed. Somehow he had managed to get on the bed in such a way, that he had not felt the mattress shift. A cold sweat broke out n Quatre's pale skin. He realized that the gun was still firmly places at his temple.

"Duo, turn on the lights."

"They are on."

Quatre's heart hammered in his chest, as he stared blindly up into the darkness. Every part of his screaming in denial. The lights could not be on. He was not blind. No. no. no. He was not. Duo was lying, surely that was it. But Duo does not lie, right? Right?! The weight on the bed shifted, as Duo sprung from the room, the door slamming open and allowing the piercing light from the hallway to hit Quatre's shocked eyes. HE closed them quickly, grimacing in pain, but elated, non the less, at having found Duo's lie.


"Duo you damned bastard!" Duo poked his head back into the room, only to have a book smash him in the face. Quatre glared at the boy crouching in the hallway, his hands holding his nose, which ran blood over the pale skin and onto the tiled floors.

Quatre frowned, he never missed. Anymore.

"Stop doing this. How would you feel if…how…" Quatre spluttered, before taking a deep breath of the frigid night air, and trying not to shiver as the cold of the house filled his lungs, and subsequently his veins. He looked down to where Duo crouched, his shoulders shaking, and his hands covered in blood. Guilt flitted over Quatre's emotions., as he bent over the injured boy. Truly he had not needed to have acted that harshly, they had all played pranks on one another before, this should have been no different, and here he was causing permanent, or at least real damage to another pilot, a person that could finish this hell. He sighed, removing Duo's hands, before dropping them in horror, as he stared at the grin that Duo was spread over Duo's face.

"I don't lie."


"I never lie."

"bastard." Whispered Quatre hoarsely. Standing up, and walking away, trying to put distance between himself and the boy on the floor. "What did you want, before you scared me out of my mind?" he bit out, not at all nicely.

"Heero says move out." Duo stood. Wiping as much of the blood as he could off his face. "I guess, in this game of follow the leader, you aren't leading anymore." He grinned at the blond haired boy's shocked statement.

"There was never a game. Stop provoking arguments." Quatre replied, curtly.

"No." Duo said, grinning as he ran down the hallway and into his room.

Quatre stared at the plaster walls for a moment, shivering lightly, and crossing his arms over his chest, trying to instill a feeling of safety into himself. Failing. He sighed, before turning back, and walking into the room. He stared unhappily into the darkness, before attempting to turn the lights on. He reached for the switch, and flicked it.

`the lights are on.'

He flicked it again.



"Damn." He swore lightly, before walking to the bed, making sure to keep the door to the hallway open.

"Stupid short circuits." The lights blinked, before turning on, flooding the room with a flickering light. The slightly greenish tint washing everything in shades of cold. Quatre clenched his teeth, and began shoving his few unpacked belonging into a duffel bag. He would not think of him.

He would not think of the house, and the lights, and the perfectly sealed off rooms, and the voices that screamed in whispers from the walls. And he would most definitely NOT think of his leadership position lost.

A soft moan filled the house. Heero ignored it, filling the canister with water from, the sink. There was no light in the small bathroom, instead the light filtered from the bedroom and into the small alcove that held a small sink and the mirror. He ignored the spider webs that clung to the exposed copper piping. The pipes long since having given into the inevitable and turning green, blending their rough and sickly texture into the flaking one provided by the walls. Heero licked his dry lips. He tested the water again. Bringing the liquid in his hand to his eyes, sniffing it, before taking a tentative sip.

The water held good.

He sighed, before filling another canister.

Finally, unable to hold out any longer, he pulled the canister from under the tap and brought it to his lips, swallowing the cold liquid, before spitting it out. He stared in horror into the sink. There from the tap poured…


…And it stained the sides of the sink, stained the inside of his mouth. Lightly he brought his hand to his face wiping the reddish liquid from his face. His fingers refused to tremble. He took a long breath. Staring at the liquid for another moment, running his hands under it, as it flowed from the tap.

He swallowed nervously, trying to rid himself of the metallic taste that had filled his mouth only moments ago.

"Its rust...it's rust… Oh God, it is only rust…it is rust." He backed into the plaster walls, leaning against them, not caring that he pulled the flaking white with him as he slid to the floor. Unable to get the taste out of his mouth. "Rust. It is rust." But he could not get over how much rust tasted like blood.

Slowly he lifted himself from the ground, looking up into the mirror above the basin, wiping the last traces of the contaminated water from his face, and turning off the taps, which had now so become clogged with the rust, that the water had lost its consistency, and now flowed slowly, almost gelatinous. Straightening out his hair, he walked out of the room. Closing the door behind him, and leaning against it. Willing himself to calm down. But that was a load of bullshit, now wasn't it?

Another moan. The wind was blowing hard. And the solitary note sped its way through the room, curving over Heero's spine. Whispering to him.

"The rain in Spain travels mostly in the main."

Heero's breath caught. "Did you wake Quatre?" He did not need to see Duo to feel his grin.

"You could say that." A whisper. "I'm going to stay."

"No, you aren't. You are coming to the next safe-house with me. The water here is contaminated, with-"


Heero's eyes widened as he whipped around to face Duo. "What?"

"blood." Duo whispered, smiling lightly. His stance diminutive, almost shyly, he shifted his weight in the most appealing of fashions, letting it rest on his right leg, accentuating the curvature of his slim hips, as his left hand wandered to Heero's. "Your hand, it is bleeding." He spoke in a matter of fact voice, pointing out the obvious, and amusing himself with the not so obvious.

Heero glanced down at his left palm, staring insipidly at the cut that marred the callused surface. It appears that he had acted with too much vigor in turning off the faucet. His assessment of the situation was short lived, as Duo wrenched his hand to his appraising eyes. The violet stared at Heero's palm. "A planner, look at that, the mind and the body meet forever…" a slim finger traced the contours of his palm "… and such a hard time with love. Nothing ever comes easy? And as for death…the cut, right through your life line, Yuy." Duo smiled, a small innocent turn of the lips, a quirk that spoke volumes of the madness that was brewing within the back of the boy's brain. "What is it that you saw in the water, Heero…that made you want to turn it off so quickly?"

Heero wrenched his hand away, refusing to answer, challenging the boy before him to ask again. But he knew, he knew that Duo had guessed. "There is another help signal."

Heero looked up, as Quatre entered the room calmly. His duffel slung over his shoulder. The bright shine of his hair seemed out of place in the room, and the boy clad in black shuffled nervously, first looking at Heero then at Duo. His eyes rested there, and he smiled sweetly.

"This safe house needs to be protected, the signal comes from Trowa, so I will go. If something is truly wrong we will need a refuge, so I suggest that the two of you stay here, and watch the place. Make sure there is nothing wrong here, keep it safe in case we have to return here." Quatre's smile turned up a notch, his speech having been directed at Duo, and no longer did it look quite as innocent.

"Aa." Heero licked his lips again. He did not want to stay, and Quatre could feel it.

"Of course, Duo can stay here on his own."

Heero frowned at that. He remembered Duo's cold form in that room, he remembered the ice that had encased him, the way that his skin had felt papery when he had entered. As if he had just come into a meat locker. "No, I will stay with him. If I hear nothing from you within the next three days, then we leave."

"A week." Quatre intoned, smiling. "In case something goes wrong."

"fine, a week." Heero grudgingly approved.

Quatre smiled happily. "Thank you Heero, you don't know how much that means to me."

Heero rolled his eyes in response.

"Oh and Duo, before I forget." Quatre continued, his voice sugar sweet. "…it seems that I had won our game, ne?"

Duo smiled lightly. "And here I thought that there wasn't one…try not to do something too blind in your little rescue mission."

Quatre frowned a little. "I would not dream of it." With that he swiftly walked out of the room.


It was morning, but the light would not come. The dark enshrouded the cold world, patiently waiting to be banished by the rays of sun that would not come. Somewhere a storm brewed, the dance of the winds permeating the heaviness of the air, as an almost suffocating humidity wept drops upon the panes of glass that were the house's windows. Heero continued to stare into the gray horizon, the darkness so complete that one would never have guessed it close to noon. He shivered lightly, watching Duo's body reflect in the glass. Soundlessly the boy snuck up to him, stopped, and staring straight at him through the window's reflection, waved. Heero turned to face him, trying to still the chills that were running up his spine, trying to stop the erratic beat of his heart, which was responding with unreasonable fright on sigh of the boy.

"What do you want, Maxwell?"



He smiled in response. His hand running up Heero's chest to rest lightly upon the other boy's shoulder. "I told you, I need your help, and you are going to give it to me, whether you are aware of it or not."

"That sounds like a threat."

Duo cocked his head lightly. "It is." He smiled, before pulling Heero closer still, both hands now wrapped around his neck. A smile played upon the pouting lips, as Duo brought his face towards Heero's. He stopped, looking through his thick lashes at the boy before him. "I need your help, I told you, I can't control things anymore. It is very bad…as I seem to have gotten too good at my job, causing things, interfering with others…"

"Duo…" the word was a whisper on his lips, and he tried to ignore the way that the position made his breath freeze in his lungs, and the whispers within the walls became louder. He tried to ignore the fact that the moans of the wind were saying something, because with Duo in his arms, he could focus on everything but him.

"..I don't like this, war. Those mobile dolls, the infiltrations, I don't like it Heero…but you will make it stop, right?" The whisper carried itself to his cheek, caressing the skin of his temples, then drifting down his jaw, before resting on his lips. And that is when Heero could understand it. He broke away from Duo, his breathing just a bit off, and his lungs heavy. The metallic taste of rust still lingering on his lips.

"…the rain in Spain…" He stared at Duo. "…we really should leave."

"…stays mostly in the plain." Duo grinned. "I knew Quatre would be useless, I think we should really stay. Really stay, not a little bit, but really. Alright?"

Heero nodded, watching the smile curve over Duo's lips. And there was something wrong with it, and there was something wrong with everything, but there was nothing wrong with Duo, at least, not anymore.


The scrape of plaster falling to the floor caught Heero's ear. Lightly, the dry clatter of more powder dropping lifelessly to the wood of the floor dissipated, once more being taken over by the sound of the wet rain pounding upon the boarded up windows. Another dry shuffle, this time the sound of rumbling could be heard from the distance, thunder, the house shook. Lightly more plaster clattered onto the floor, the dead pitter patter, against the live. The room was, as always, cold, and yet, it was the only place in the entire building that Heero felt safe. He sat, cross-legged in the center of the room, attempting to ignore Duo who was giggling, and muttering something or other, attempting to make conversation. The boy focused on the cold seeping up his thighs, the cold of the computer beneath his fingers, the cool solidity of the muscles in his calves which had long since cramped up. He was ignoring Duo, because Duo had felt wrong, at one point.

He no longer did.

Nothing did, anymore.

Heero returned to scanning the net for messages from Quatre. He allowed the soothing atmosphere of the room to lull him back into the concentration that he had been missing the few days past, to tell the truth the second night in the building had not been nearly as bad as the first. A tap, and then another. He ignored Duo when he called his name.


"Heero. Catch."

Heero did not turn, did not flinch, as a mug came flying past his right side, smashing into the wall on the other side of the room. He did not say a word as another cup joined its neighbor. He slowly looked up from his work to stare dispassionately at Duo. The other boy smirked at him,, his long hair loose, pooling on the floor, sticking to the plaster of the wall upon which he leaned as he sprawled upon the unyielding surfaces. Heero grunted lightly, before turning back to his computer.

"Ignore me again Yuy, and I'll throw a knife."

"you have non., I hid them all the night before."

Had he been wrong to? Heero frowned, as he remembered the almost fanatic need he had felt to hide everything that was sharp, the way in which he had walked the rooms for almost three hours, searching every surface for anything sharp, for anything that could have cut.

Had he been wrong to?

Something sailed through the air, imbedding itself in the wall in front of Heero Yuy. He stopped, glaring at the projectile. It was a knife, to be sure. Duo never lied. But there was something off about the way it had moved, and that is when Heero realized what it was. The knife had not been spinning. The cups had not flown like projectiles. All of them had flown through the air, in a perfectly horizontal pattern. Slowly he turned, and watched in absolute wonder as another knife came at him.

No part of him moved, as the projectile approached his face, staring at the knife which was moving in a way no knife should.

His breath caught. Yet he dared not move.

And then, right before it could imbed itself within his skull the thing stopped. The metal of the knife quivering as it was halted mid flight. Heero exhaled lightly, moving away from the knife's path, staring at its length, as it glistened in the light.

And nothing felt wrong anymore.

"how are you doing that?" he asked more in curiosity then wonder or surprise. There was no shock.

"I'm not, you are." The whispered words fell from pale lips, crumbling against Heero's beliefs, like the plaster had the floor.

"No, I can't do that. I'm not." No sooner had the words left his mouth, then the knife flew past him, through the place where the back of his head once was, imbedding itself into the wall, centimeters from its brother.

But there really did not seem to be anything out of place, at all.

"That would have killed me."


"would you have stopped it?"

"You can do that on your own."

"And if I hadn't?"

Duo shrugged, before crawling over to Heero. "you are so cold Heero. So…this has no effect on you, does it? It is just another variable to fit into your equation for the mission." Slim fingers brushed against Heero's neck, as the boy calmly looked back at Duo. Duo's grin grew, he leaned in, resting his lips against those of Heero's, before lightly kissing his way down the boy's jaw, and to his neck, sucking upon the flesh there. Heero lightly brought his hands to Duo's shoulders and pushed him back

"I think, that this is quite the variable to include."

"Oh?" Duo said innocently, fingering Heero's hair, running plaster white fingers through the silky strands. Heero smirked, and kissed Duo, running his tongue over the boy's lip, before slipping it into the waiting mouth. Eventually they separated. "Duo, I locked those knives inside of Wing a week ago."

* * *

Erm…righteo…there…now, how was that?
*Cough *
Some announcements:
Yes, there is a reason that Quatre is gone. Have no fear tho, he will be back * wicked grin *. Yes, I realize that something very weird just happened, and Heero did not notice…he did notice, he really did…it is just that…Heero is freaky.

According to popular decree, Relena dies, and someone paints with her blood.
Jaden: * raises hand* I volunteer myself and Chambliss .
Sunday: Right-eo.
(did that go as badly as I thought?)