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Duo's Pain
Chapter Five: Heero by Neccesity
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"Hey, Heero." Duo moved slowly into the room, not quite daring to look at his lover.

"Hn." Their was a clacking sound of the key board; either a new mission had come in, 
or Heero had come down with the Tetrus bug again. Somehow, Duo doubted the latter.

"So," Duo said, walking over to stand at Heero's shoulder, even knowing how the perfect 
soldier hated that. "Whatcha been doin?"

"Took a shower," Heero grunted in a monosyllabic fashion, saying the longer words as 
though the act pained him. Duo had to stop for a moment; he hadn't gotten his morning 
dose of Heero, and envisioning him all wet and covered in lather gave Shinigami a near-
instant erection.

"Good," Duo squeaked; he then cleared his throat, and stepped closer in an attempt to 
read the green-glowing screen over Heero's shoulder. Heero, of course, blocked the a
ttempt, all business now that he was satiated. Duo sighed. "New mission?"

"Where were you?"

"What?" Duo paused for a moment. The question had seemed to come out of nowhere. It 
wasn't like Heero to be the possessive one . . . "Talking to the guys. Why?"

"I missed you in the shower."

"Heero," Duo said slowly, starting to back away. "What the hell is going on?"

The clacking sound stopped. Heero turned his chair around, the wheels squeaking just a
little under his slight weight. His skin was luminously pale in the artificial light; he looked 
like a ghost. Or an angel.

"Did you tell them?"

'Oh shit.'

***

"How do you think Yuy's taking it?" The other pilots had moved back to the kitchen after Duo's
exit, and Quatre had worked his way into Wufei's lap, curling into him as the Chinese pilot spoke. 

"Do you think Duo's even brought it up yet?"

"Knowing Maxwell? Yes, though he wouldn't have meant to. And let us pray that Yuy is 
feeling mellow today."

"Mellow? Him?" Quatre sighed. "Now I'm really worried."

"Hmph," Wufei snorted. "Good riddance, I say. We can help Yuy fine on our own."

"Hm. What do you think, Trowa?"

Trowa was staring in the general direction of the unlit fireplace, and was looking unusually
 thoughtful, even for him. It took him a moment to answer.

"If they have bonded, then Duo is our only hope," he finally said, turning his sad green eyes 
to meet Quatre's worried gaze.

"So what's all the fuss about?"

"Sally?!" Two voices exclaimed.

"Weren't you expecting me?" The doctor closed the front door, setting a duffle bag and her
coat on the kitchen floor. "I just got Quatre's call two hours ago. I came as quickly as I could."

"Quatre," Wufei said quietly, in a pained, pinched voice. "When I said Sally Po, I was joking."

"And when did you call her?" Trowa asked, sounding rather belligerent for once.

"Nice to know I'm wanted," the lady in question replied, pulling up a chair next to Trowa. "So,
what's wrong with Heero, and what was it you thought I could do to help?"

Quatre looked at the others helplessly, and then turned to Sally.

"It's kind of a long story . . ."

***

"Would it upset you if I had?" Duo asked carefully, darting a quick, nervous glance at the door.

Heero shrugged, his eyes glass-dark, opaque, unreadable. 

"Listen, Heero, about that . . ." Heero raised one eyebrow as Duo spoke, and Duo grinned
nervously, steeling himself to speak. "We think maybe you need help," he said, all in a
rush.

"Help." Heero's face was still expressionless, without even the desire for pain that had
plagued Duo since the start of their relationship. He bit his lip.

"Yeah. Help. There's nothing wrong with needing help," he continued desperately, knowing
 that, in the perfect soldier's world-view, needing help *was* wrong.

"You didn't like it?" Heero asked, his voice very level and somehow innocent. 

Unknowing.

Naive.

Duo grimaced.

"Heero, I didn't . . . I thought . . . The sex was great, really, but I didn't think the pain was
more important to you than I was."

Heero nodded, his eyes gone remote, as though he were weighing some issue in his mind.

"We have a mission," he said, quite suddenly, turning back to the laptop with a finality that
was frightening to the braided pilot. 

"Mission?" Duo repeated faintly, unbelieving. If that bastard J had caught on somehow . . .

"A shipment of over a thousand mobile suits, mostly Aries and Pisces, will be routed 
through the KLP area tomorrow morning. Our mission is to intercept and destroy."

"Heero, I don't like this. You remember what happened last time we all intercepted a shipment
this size, I don't think--"

"I could take them myself. I thought you might like to come."

Duo stared at his lover for a moment, watching the flicker of the laptop on his glossy brown 
hair, wishing he could see Heero's face.

"I don't want you going alone."

"Hn." Apparently the invitation would not be repeated. Duo sighed.

"I'll get Shinigami ready to go," he said quietly, turning slowly with slumped shoulders to
exit the still room.

"Arigato," Heero said, almost as if to himself, after his braided lover had disappeared.

From the hallway, Duo smiled.

"You're welcome."

***
Heero felt Duo leave his station by the door; he just kept staring at the green glow of his
laptop, thankful that though Duo could speak Japanese, the braided pilot had never
mastered the kanji. The message blinked, once, then vanished with the pressing of a
single key.

	::You are not to survive the mission.:: 

"Ninmu ryoukai." 

He shut down the laptop, and left.

***

"Duo!"

"Quatre," Shinigami returned, halting his flight to their Gundams to face the Arabian pilot;
Quatre was flushed, but his eyes were-- if not happy, at least hopeful for the first time in
months. Duo quirked an eyebrow in an almost-wink, and asked, "What's up?"

"Sally's here. She wants to talk to you."

Duo's good mood abruptly vanished.

"Can't this wait? We have a mission."

"You and Heero?" Quatre gasped, his hand going to his breast as he very suddenly recognized
the emotion he could feel roiling within the Japanese pilot. "Duo, no! You have to talk to Sally
before the two of you leave." He shook his head, frustrated. "You shouldn't be going at all!"

"All right," Duo shrugged. "I'll talk to her. But you know what Heero's like: once he gets a
mission he doesn't stop, not for anything."

Quatre turned to lead him back to the kitchen, absently massaging his chest over his heart, and
shook his head again, restlessly. "Something's not right. Something's wrong with Heero. I can
feel it."

"You mean something other than the usual?" Duo asked, throwing an arm over Quatre's narrow
shoulders as they walked.

Quatre stopped. He wouldn't look at Duo, just clutched at his heart as though for comfort.

"Yes," he said quietly. "This *is* different. His pain his gone."

"What?!"

"He feels relief. He feels relieved, Duo. Why?"

"Oh crap. The mission."

"What is it?"

Duo shook his head, and took off running down the hall.

"I have to talk to Sally!" he called back over his shoulder.

Quatre followed after him more slowly, the absence of pain in his chest frightening him more
than the screams. He sighed. "How much more, Heero? How much more can you be
expected to take?"

***

Heero sat in Wing Zero's cockpit, waiting. 

All systems were go, and the machine was thrumming with power, making him twitch
restlessly as he watched for Duo.

Surely the pilot would arrive soon.

He hated waiting.

The lack of activity made him think, and he didn't like to think, to remember. Mostly, it
was the remembering he didn't like. The things he remembered . . . no one would, no
one *should* want to remember . . .

They took him every day.

Five am was wake up call. He slept in a small concrete box they called a room, so he didn't 
mind leaving it so much. They didn't let him eat right away, but drilled him on military theory--
battle tactics, 100 ways to make your own escape route, espionage, how to cross-dress 
effectively-- until he'd earned the right to a meagre breakfast, usually a protein bar or
something equally delicious. 

After breakfast, he was allowed to dress.

At this point, even the spandex felt warm.

Nine am, for the morning wake-up rituals usually took about this long, was hand-to-hand 
combat, or 'the eight-hundred and seventy-nine ways to kill a man with your bare hands, or
a toothpick, whichever's handy'. He usually enjoyed this part of the day, broken bones
aside. Besides, after awhile, pain doesn't mean anything anymore.

They broke for lunch at twelve noon every day, without fail, at which point he was fed several
differently-colored pills, and another protein bar. They didn't even come in flavors.

One pm marked the beginning of his lessons, in which he learned the military strategies they
drilled him on every morning. These lessons were held in another steel bunker, decorated with
human-shaped targets and maps of countries, worlds, and solar systems on the bolted walls.

He was the only pupil.

There were no distractions.

Seven pm was dinner: a heated protein bar, and several more pills. On alternate days, he was
given an injection, too, even though he hated needles. After awhile, hate doesn't matter either.

Nine pm was cleverly entitled 'Sexual Indoctrination'. The class covered all forms of torture, 
including Chinese water drip and electric shock, but focused on resisting the soul-killing
effects of rape. The theory was, apparently, that sufficient rape would kill the soul, so its
effects would no longer matter.

The thing is, eventually, nothing matters.

Until the day they teach you to enjoy it.

***

" . . .you have to understand, you can't leave here with him like this. He's dangerously unstable,
and he can't be trusted to keep himself, much less you, safe. He needs help--"

"And he'll get it, after this mission." Duo tore his arm from her grasp, avoiding the acusatory
glares of the other three pilots as he struggled with his flight suit. 

"*Why* are you so fixated on this?!" Sally demanded, her hoarse voice torn to pleading.

Duo stilled, turning to meet her gaze steadily, his fists clenched.

"You say you can help Heero. You say I should be nice, let him initiate all sexual contact, keep
him happy, don't let him get exited and most of all, keep him off this mission." 

She was nodding along, but froze as he approached her; his violet eyes burned.

"But what you don't seem to understand is that he doesn't initiate sex, not like you're thinking, 
and he doesn't like things *nice*, he's not *happy*, he doesn't understand the *concept* of
excitement, and he sure as *hell* won't like you trying to stop him from completing a mission."

He ground to a halt, frustration draining away to reveal the helplessness he felt underneath.
He sighed. "He *lives* to fight," he continued, swinging one arm to bash that fist into his
thigh. "It's all he's ever known."

They were all silent for a long moment, the four men staring at the ground, Sally watching
Duo with wide, concerned eyes.

Finally she nodded.

"After the mission," she said shakily, wondering how the hell she'd gotten mixed up in this. "You
bring him back, and I'll try and help him then. But you have to help me."

"I will," he said simply. "I'll bring him home."

"Good luck, Duo," Quatre said quietly, watching him with those limpid-blue, soul-searching eyes.

Duo stopped in the door, still shrugging on his jacket.

"I will bring him back," he said again. "And we'll all help him get better."

"You sure you don't want some backup on this one?" Trowa spoke up, not looking up from
the floor. Wufei elbowed him sharply, but the taller pilot didn't respond.

"Nah. I'm the God of Death, remember?" He chuckled. "I can take care of myself."

"See that you do," Wufei called, as Duo stepped outside.

The braided pilot threw up a hand in farewell, then vanished around the corner of the house.

They waited a few moments, silent.

"You feel anything from Heero?"

"Annoyance. He must already be at Wing Zero. Duo probably shouldn't keep him waiting
right now."

The others nodded in agreement, Trowa actually smiling. Wufei sighed.

"Is there any hope for him?"

"Of course there's hope," Sally broke in. "We know what's wrong, we just . . . we just have 
to fix it."

"Oh, is that all."

"Yeah, he's not exactly the--"

"Guys," Quatre broke in, hand going back to his heart. "We have to work together on this.
We can't lose him. We can't."

***

tbc

A/N Sorry this one took so long, but I had papers and short stories and poems all due
in my various classes, and this had to go on the back burner for a while. 

Next time, the evil people teach Heero to enjoy pain, and we get a battle scene(which
will have to be researched by rewatching the entire series, slowing me down
significantly:)

Chapter 6: Cruel as a Child(tentative)
or One More Medicated Peaceful Moment

whichever strikes my fancy :)