Captured by Elf
Standard disclaimers apply
Duo POV
I don't like being cornered. I really don't. I don't like having
my back against the wall. I like having an escape route. I always
try to make one, even if there is one. I hate being captured, and
I hate being chained up.
The thing is, I somehow get captured or chained up and Heero or someone
always has to save my ass. Why? I'm Shinigami. No damn mortal should
be able to touch me, but they are able too.
It really gripes my ass.
So, I'm sitting in a cold cell, shackles around my wrists, the whole
nine yards, waiting to be rescued. My hair lies in a pool around me.
They had unbraided it and stripped all of the lock picks that I hide
out of it. Then they stripped me. That was humiliating, even though
the wide-eyed look of that female guard more than made up for it.
Then they dressed me in a formless orange jumpsuit that did nothing
for my coloring. I sigh and lean against the cold wall, careful not
getting my hair caught. Trust me, it hurts like hell to get hair this
long caught.
This place seems like its getting smaller. I stand up and pace around,
trying to rid myself of this closterophobia. It seems like the walls
are gonna crush your ass almost. I can handle being in the cockpit
of Deathscythe HELL, but I can't handle a simple cell.
Wufei would be calling me weak right now, but I don't care. Maybe
I am weak. I'm not from a wealthy family like Quatre, I wasn't born
into nobility like Wufei, I wasn't trained to be a perfect soldier
from birth like Trowa and Heero. I'm a street rat. I live on my wits.
I'm good at running and hiding, but not lying.
Damn my honest nature. I kept my mouth shut during the interrogation
though. At least I wasn't beaten or tortured this time. I'm getting
use to beatings. How can you get use to beatings, you ask? Well, you
learn how to dodge the really nasty blows or send your mind into another
place. Or you're just too damn stubborn to cry out because with a
meter long braid they'll call you a fag when you're as strait as they
come.
That even sounded dirty to me. What was I thinking before? Oh, about
living on my wits. I don't rely on prowess or super human strength
like some people, mainly HEERO, but I've lived on my wits for years.
I know how to make connections, how to deal with people. All the nifty
stuff that gets you in a good place with the big guys. Really.
Dammit.
I've lived at a Catholic church. Not even a house of God is safe.
Father Maxwell, Sister Helen, all dead. A bunch of kids, dead too.
All they made was a damn memorial on it with Maxwell's name on it.
There's another thing, Duo Maxwell. I don't have a name. I named
myself. For all I know, my parents could be alive and well. I don't
know. That's the thing. So, I named myself. Solo called me Key. Solo
died, but I was the only brat that didn't get affected with the plague.
He was watching over me, I know it. I wasn't alone, so, then I was
part of a "Duo". Get the puns now? Then Maxwell's Demon.
You know, that's actually a physic's thing. Deathscythe is a perfect
example of Maxwell's Demon, the thermal scythe being used underwater
. . . I'm a lot smarter than I allow people to think, just because
I don't speak fluid Japanese.
I hear something shift in the room. Who's coming to save my sorry
ass this time? Heero? Hilde? Quatre? Wufei? Trowa would never save
my ass. He destroyed my Gundam, the bastard.
The door opens and I stand up. I plaster my smiling mask on my face
and look the person standing there in the eye. I meet a pair of dark
green orbs.
I'll be damned. It's Trowa. I bet Heero or Quatre sent him here,
but still, my ass is being saved. Again.
*******
The End
*******
Back to Elf's Fan Fictions
Back to Fan Fiction Index