Prodigy

 

Chapter 15

 

Allegiance Ascertained

 

 

“- it can’t hurt,” Duo’s voice echoed through the sliding doors, grinning at Heero as they entered the hospital, each holding two enormous pizza boxes. “Well, can’t hurt ME, at least. But you’re a doctor professory guy, so you make the big bucks, right?”

 

“Don’t make me shoot you,” Heero stated.

 

“Try it, Pyro,” Duo countered, then frowned. “But don’t hurt the pizza.”

 

“It’s about time you got back,” Wufei griped from a nearby armchair, face hidden behind a newspaper. He joined them on their walk, face still hidden until they stepped into the elevator. He snapped the newspaper shut with a crack, seams perfect as he folded it under his arm. “Winner’s locked himself in a conference room, and Trowa’s been catatonic for the past half hour since.”

 

“Well, shit,” Duo stated, pressing their floor’s button with his hip. “So, ‘Fei, what do you think of sausage pizza?”

 

Wufei snorted. “Decent. I prefer anchovies, but sausage is passable.”

 

Duo grinned smugly at Heero, who frowned, pulled ten bucks out of a pocket, and stuffed it into a bit of his braid. “Well, now that THAT’s settled, what the hell did you do to them, you bastard?”

 

“NOTHING,” Wufei snapped. The elevator chimed, and the doors parted. “They fucked their relationship all by themselves.”

 

“And we’re to trust you?” Heero asked as they strode down the corridor, scowling at the spy.

 

“Heero, he hasn’t done anything bad other than piss us off repeatedly,” Duo defended…well, kind of. “And what the hell would the point be in telling us the Golden Couple had their first tiff?”

 

“Lower our guard and make us expect a single figure in bed in Barton’s hospital room through manipulating our sympathy.”

 

Duo stared at him. “How the fuck do you get through a day without killing people?”

 

Heero smirked. “Practice.”

 

“And pills?” Duo suggested.

 

“DOOR! DOOR! WATCH THE FUCKING DOOR!” Wufei shouted, pointing to the opening door Duo nearly smacked into before Wufei yanked his braid back. Two pizza boxes went tumbling to the floor.

 

A woman with brown eyes and brown hair in a well-cut periwinkle suit blinked at them from the now-open doorway. “Excuse me,” she said, voice cool and collected, and walked down the hall in the opposite direction.

 

“Bitch,” Duo muttered, scowling, as he picked up the pizza boxes, hoping they were salvageable. Heero was smirking mercilessly at him. “Shut up, Corpse Boy! You’d have dropped them too!” Mustering his remaining dignity, Duo opened the heavy wood door to Trowa Barton’s room.

 

The occupant was staring at nothing, face turned towards the city lights that glinted off his window, still as a statue and looking just as hard to move, eyes half-lidded and empty.

 

“Wow. You weren’t kidding about the catatonic thing, were you, ‘Fei?” Duo frowned, setting the ruined pizza down on Trowa’s bedside table. “Shit, he almost looks dead.”

 

“He’s still breathing,” Heero noted. “He’ll be fine.”

 

“Well yeah, but…man, that’s just creepy. How long ago did you say this happened?” Duo asked, turning back to look at Wufei.

 

Wufei still stood in the doorway, shoulders tense and face hard, eyes wary on the hallway.

 

“You need to leave,” he said simply. “Grab Trowa, go get Quatre, and leave. Now.”

 

Duo stared at the spy. “What the hell are you talking about?”

 

For just a moment, Wufei let his eyes snap over to glare at Duo, then flick over to where Heero stood. “Yuy, get him out of here.”

 

The scientist didn’t even blink, just nodded and moved toward Trowa. “How long do we have?”

 

“Twenty minutes, tops.”

 

“Understood,” Heero stated, and ripped the IV out of Trowa’s arm. The statue didn’t even move, didn’t even flinch.

 

Duo frowned, his previous mental agenda of ‘what fuckitry is this?’ being replaced by realizing something was very, very wrong with Trowa Barton.

 

“Don’t move him,” Duo called out, just before Heero started to fireman carry his friend out of the room. He frowned, pulling the money he’d earned out of his braid and carefully drew a line down the edge of Trowa’s arm. When Trowa didn’t move, Duo frowned and pulled a knife out of his sock.

 

“…how many of those do you have on you?” Wufei asked.

 

“Not enough,” Duo muttered, and, with a look up at Heero, cut a small slash into Trowa’s arm.

 

Trowa didn’t even blink.

 

“Shit,” Duo hissed, grabbing the bandages Heero already had ready and quickly stemming the bleeding.

 

“He’s drugged,” Heero said, already moving towards the trashcan, quickly pulling out any and all medicinal containers he could find.

 

“We don’t know what it’s done to him,” Duo sighed, getting more and more pissed off as the situation worsened. “And why the hell do we even have to run?”

 

“That woman,” Wufei said, voice slightly hoarse. “The woman in periwinkle.” He frowned. “I’ve seen her before, and everywhere she goes, so does OZ.”

 

“Well, hey. At least I knew she was a bitch right off,” Duo said, laughing as he cleaned up his knife and resheathed it. “We can’t just pick Trowa up and move him, because we don’t know what they gave him.”

 

“…shit,” Heero hissed out, an empty, label-less glass syringe in his hand.

 

“Be a bit more informative, Yuy,” Wufei snapped out, looking like he’d shoot anything that touched him at this point.

 

“This is the only syringe we didn’t know he was prescribed,” Heero said, looking intently at the needle. “What we do know is it’s in glass, not plastic, which probably means the drug can eat through plastic.”

 

“…which is kinda bad,” Duo said lightly.

 

“Very, very bad,” Heero agreed, which probably meant they were all going to die right there.

 

“Well. Uh. I guess I’ll go get Quatre and we’ll barricade the room then,” Duo said.

 

“Too late,” Wufei muttered, and the world went to hell.

 

x---x

 

Wufei Chang had always belonged to someone else’s cause. He was a weapon, not a wielder, and although he had a heart, a mind, a spirit, maybe even a soul, he was still in need of a direction, still needed guidance. Purpose.

 

And then he had met Duo Maxwell, and the world as he’d known it, the simple and easy world of a weapon, had gone to hell.

 

x---x

 

“SHIT!” Duo shouted out as the first shot hit the hospital room’s door, grabbing Wufei by the ponytail and wrenching him back toward himself and Heero as quickly as possible. The second and third shots followed quickly after, both ripping through the fake wood of the door and shattering the windowpane, glass flying everywhere. “Oh, SHIT!”

 

“Did you see how many there are?” Heero asked Wufei, already with his weapon out and snapping the safety off with an ominous snap.

 

“Four, I think,” Wufei said, raking his brain as the fourth, fifth, sixth shots came, all localized around the lock of the door, as if he’d had the time to lock it. “I could be wrong, though.”

 

“You’re a spy and you can’t think under pressure?!” Duo hissed, already pulling out knife after knife from his ensemble.

 

“And you’re a high school student with a fucking ARMORY in your SOCKS!” Wufei snapped. “I was busy closing the door!”

 

“I can’t take out four armed shooters in here,” Heero frowned, pulling at his own pant leg to reveal an arsenal of explosives.

 

“Shit, I’m going to have nightmares about socks now!” Wufei shouted out, staring as they stripped down their foot coverings to reveal metal and mines. “Insane pyromaniacs with socks of death and too much duct tape and too little common sense!”

 

“Better safe than sorry,” Heero said simply, looking a bit too dreamily at a small red tube.

 

“Oooooh, is that what I think it is?” Duo said, grinning viciously.

 

“I think it might be,” Heero said, just a tad bit smug as the seventeenth through twenty-first bullets went whizzing through the room.

 

“You’re all fucking insane,” Wufei stared, desperately wishing he had more than just his pistol on him. Preferably something long, sharp and stabby.

 

“Aww, come on, ‘Fei. Where’s the love?”

 

“Nowhere near you and your socks, that’s for sure,” Wufei seethed, clutching his pistol and trying very hard to not crack the bastard upside the head with it.

 

But after the thirtieth bullet, everything stopped.

 

x---x

 

He can’t remember all that much of his life before Nataku. Considering she was more or less his life, he doesn’t much care.

 

She had been air and fire, thunder and lightning, passion and perseverance. She had been bratty, abrasive, and beautiful, and best of all, his.

 

Her life had been his life. His education had been her education, his daily exercises and lessons and memory improvement techniques had been hers. Despite what they wanted, what they dictated, he didn’t care.

 

The spy and the maid. The rich and the poor. The man and the woman.

 

But after one bullet, one tiny, simple bullet, everything stopped.

 

x---x

 

“Chang!”

 

Duo frowned at the splintered door. “…what the hell do they want now?”

 

“Chang Wufei!”

 

“I think they’re looking for Wufei,” Heero said.

 

“Damn, that’s insightful,” Duo rolled his eyes. “I’m glad a PhD like you’s around, Heero, I can barely hear myself think over the guy shouting ‘Fei’s name.”

 

“Would you two stop joking and realize they are trying to kill you?!” Wufei hissed at them, eyes wide and forehead twitching with the urge to strangle them.

 

“Eh,” Duo shrugged casually. “We’re used to it.” He turned back to Heero, who was working the vial out from under his sock. “How long ‘till you’re ready to blow up the hall?”

 

Heero paused for a moment, obviously thinking hard about his response. “About forty seconds.”

 

“Chang Wufei, tell your captors we have their comrade as a hostage.”

 

Duo frowned, working at his sleeve to pull another knife out. “Was it just me or was that voice different?”

 

Neither of the boys responded, too busy looking very serious and very pale.

 

“I am offering a straight trade – the young Mister Winner for Chang,” that same voice said. It was smooth and commanding, and the man who owned it was apparently nothing to scoff at, judging from the other two’s reactions. “Our only goal this evening is the return of our ally. When the trade is completed, we’ll leave the hospital in peace.”

 

“Can we trust this guy?” Duo asked.

 

“…Yes,” Wufei said, strangely impassive as he stood up, gaze flicking to Heero. “Take care of him, Yuy.”

 

Heero nodded. Duo glared.

 

“Why does everyone think I’m the only one that needs to—‘FEI!” Duo shouted, lurching to his feet as Wufei walked toward the door, only for Heero’s iron grip pull him back down and gently but firmly hold him there.

 

“Because, Duo,” he said, not even looking back. “We care about you.”

 

“WUFEI!” Duo shouted. “We can figure out another way to get Quatre back from them! We can take these guys, we can escape, we can run, we can…we can…”

 

He didn’t even wave, just walked out the doorway with a purposeful stride like the devil was at his heels.

 

x---x

When Nataku died, he'd given up on everything. Dreams of justice and honor and integrity fizzled away with her shocked face.

After that, Wufei devoted his life to others' grand devotions and dreams, and he was good at it. He became rock and rain, distance and brutality, with no allegiance to anything but a cold tombstone he hadn't seen in four years.

It was only when he truly saw the man that Duo Maxwell was, and the deeper qualities of Heero Yuy, that the bitterly cold ghost of Meiran walked out of his heart and soul.

It didn't even wave, just walked out the doorway with a purposeful stride like the devil was at its heels.

And, with his allegiance finally ascertained, Wufei Chang became more than a spy, or a weapon, or a devotee. What it was, he didn't know yet, but it was strong and true and something he'd been searching for since he couldn't even remember when.

And soon, he remembered his dreams.

x---x

 

When Quatre, face bruised and eyes glaring at the world, walked through the door a minute later, he blinked at the sight of a catatonic Trowa, a distant Heero, and Duo Maxwell looking ready to bring down the apocalypse on OZ, inc.

 

“It’s time to stop running,” Quatre said, voice icily quiet. “It’s time we take the fight to them, and finish this once and for all.”

 

“There’s fi…there’s four of us, and a skyscraper full of them,” Heero said, gazing out the shattered window.

 

“Four of us, yes,” Quatre countered. “One of which has limitless funding and expert combat training, another of which is a genius and mastermind of mischief, another the leading scientist in the field of explosives and deadly efficient in a fight, and one of which is…well, I’m still trying to figure out what he is, but I’m betting it’s just as dangerous as the rest of us.” 

 

“I’m in,” Duo spoke up. “Even if it were suicide, I’d be in.”

 

“It is suicide,” Heero said. “They have Wufei now, which means they’ll know what we look like, what we think like, where we live, work, go to school-”

 

“Then there’s not even a point in running and hiding anyway,” Quatre snapped. “Like you said, they know who we are and where we are. We either take the fight to them, or we die.”

 

“Or we take the fight to them AND die,” Duo added, chipper. “Either way, sounds like a hell of a time. So! When we getting ‘Fei back?”

 

x---x

 

The limo swerved easily through traffic, its occupants barely moving across the leather seats. Cars flashed across the windows, and Treize Khushrenada poured another, smaller, glass of wine for Wufei.

 

“I trust you still prefer red to white?” he asked, smiling and caring as Wufei took the glass and sipped from it, not even considering there was a drug in it. If there was one thing Khushrenada could be trusted on, it was that he always took care of those under him. “Or has that changed during your captivity?”

 

“The only thing that’s changed is my perception of duct tape,” Wufei growled, drinking a bit more. “They left me duct taped to a chair, which was taped to the refrigerator door, and left me blindfolded.” He made a disgusted noise. “I’d almost have preferred death.”

 

“I would most certainly not have preferred you dead,” Treize frowned at the thought. “But truly, are you alright?”

 

“I’m fine, thank you,” Wufei sighed, downing the rest of his wine and reminding himself that really, he was just fine with the spacious, comfortable limousine playing nice classical music and didn’t miss rotting cloth seats and a screaming driver competing with pounding classic rock. “What did I miss?”

 

“I assume you know of our arsonist’s little miscalculation.”

 

“The one that nearly killed me and left me the captive of a crazy man?” Wufei growled. “Oh, I know of it.”

 

“I’ve been waiting for your return to choose her punishment,” Treize said smoothly, almost lazily. “It seemed only fair.”

 

The arsonist who had not only nearly killed himself, but also Duo Maxwell and Heero Yuy. The arsonist who had shot Trowa Barton and betrayed Quatre Winner, not to mention Duo.

 

“Thank you,” he said darkly to the man sitting next to him. “I’ll be sure she gets a just punishment.”

 

“I’m sure you will,” Treize said, a hand cautiously brushing against Wufei’s cheek. “…I must admit, I missed your unique outlook on the world.”

 

“That makes two of us,” Wufei muttered, and poured himself another drink. He had a feeling he’d need it.

 

x---x

x---x

 

A/N: Aaaaaand that’s the long-awaited Ch. 15! Hope you enjoyed!