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fic: Letters to Heero 5/?

Letters to Heero 5/?
by Pink Whirlwind

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing. Bandai is more likely to have that honor than I. The story that this story crosses over into, which I don't want to spoil, is mostly out of copyright. And god help them both... because Duo's got a very active imagination.

Chapter Five

"Heero," Trowa growled, holding tightly to Heero's arm.

They were all in the medical center. The pod that probably held Duo was in an isolation chamber, a chamber that Heero wanted into as well. "Let go of me, Winner."

"I don't know which of you I fear most," Trowa said, "But Duo won't be happy with me if I let you in there and you get contaminated with whatever parasite is in there with him."

"Quatre's wrong," Heero growled, lips tight. "The sensors only pick up a single human and at very minimally functional levels. We need to get him out of there. I want to be in there! I don't want him to wake up in a glass cage."

Trowa grabbed Heero's other arm, jerked him around, green eyes glaring into blue with an unquestioning authority. "Duo does not want you hurt. You will follow protocol. Acknowledge."

Blinking, utterly caught off guard to be confronted by the carefully modulated words which were designed to take advantage of programing still deep within his psyche, Heero paled. "Acknowledge." He shook Trowa off, stepped back. "What the hell was that, Trowa? If you ever take advantage of me like that again, I will hurt you."

"If you ever devalue your own life I will kick your ass for Duo, because I'm sure he would want that."

Heero's jaw hurt from being so tight, but he gave a curt nod.

"Heero," Quatre said, voice soft and soothing, "We love him as well, you do know that, right? You brought us here. Because of you we found him. He didn't put himself through this so that he could bring us any harm." Quatre reached out and touched Heero's arms. "Trust me?"

"Don't modify my emotions," Heero said, only just barely keeping himself from pulling away.

"I won't," Quatre promised. Quatre's space heart had grown much stronger as he and Trowa had grown closer, though that could just as well have been his own maturation. "Heero, I won't. We're going to help Duo. We're going to get him out of there.  I need you to hear what I'm about to tell you."

Heero crossed his arms, blue eyes narrowing. He stood so he could see the chamber holding Duo's pod and both Quatre and Trowa. The urgency and intensity of his need, his guilt over accepting Duo's death, when Duo hadn't been dead then, though he might be now was driving an impending mental break down of all the normalcy he'd build.  Adrenaline surged like it had in the war, not warm and hot like some people's, but murderously cold. It felt like the only part of him who had ever been human was the part that loved Duo and he'd kept it alive by keeping Duo's memory alive and in so doing, by accepting Duo's death, he may have actually killed Duo. "Don't talk. Do."

This time it was Trowa's very subtle body language that told Quatre to let it go.

"The good news is that we can't find any parasite, any other life form other than Duo. However, Duo's intelligence has merged with the AI that controls the pod and it's Duo that's preventing the pod from opening. There are two consciousnesses with him. We can pry the metal of the pod open, but there is a possibility of pushing him past this mental adaptation to completely brain death or into irretrievable insanity if we force it open."

"So we don't need the isolation chamber?"

"As long as we keep the whole medical bay a clean space," Quatre allowed.

"I will jack into the AI and get Duo to open the pod," Heero said firmly, feeling more hope, hope that he could save Duo and with that save himself.

Quatre and Trowa looked at each other. Quatre chewed his lip. "Or we could send in another AI that we could take turns controlling, which gives us better odds of reaching him."

"No. I know him best."

Howard entered the room with a swoosh from the air lock that kept the medical bay clean of contaminants from the rest of the ship, and the bay clear from beyond it too. "Yuy, how many times a day you get told you're a selfish asshole?"

It was said cheerfully, with a big grin, and was just confusing enough that Heero had regained his composure enough not to lash out. "Do you have all the equipment we're going to need to interface? I do not want to use an avatar. I want to interface directly."

Quatre danced his fingers across the control pad that manifested at just the right height for him. The isolation chamber dematerialized. "None of us should leave the medical bay, until we know for certain that it's not carrying anything unpleasant."

"We're using an avatar." With a twitch of his nose, Howard set the box of supplies down, dropped down and slid underneath the pod. "Using an avatar leaves Duo in control of the connection, allows him to expel the avatar if he wants to. We have no idea what world he's living in in his mind. The kid was always very creative.  The last thing you want to be doing, as you try to get him to come back into and believe in this world we live in - is fight him for dominance in his own mind, Yuy."

Heero's life was carefully crafted to allow him to live without hurting other people or let other people be close enough to hurt him. That Duo had been alive, was possibly still alive, shredded everything he'd built since he'd accepted Duo's death. "I," he started, voice so quiet he really didn't expect anyone else to hear him, "I need to see him."

Quatre's eyes went wide, worry, the echoes of Heero's pain and plummeting dark mood rocking him. "Heero, what happened was not your fault and it is not acceptable for you to stop living."

"I was only alive because of Duo."

"That is not true," Quatre growled with an elegant hostility. "I don't know that you're stable enough to be able to interface with him and provide him grounding to find his way out. There is a darkness within him that is every bit as dark as what's in you."

"Stop." Trowa held up his hands, one palm towards Quatre, one towards Heero. "Heero tell me that you have mission clarity and can provide Duo with rational guideposts to find his way back to reality, in a way that gives him optimal well being and autonomy?"

Heero's face held nearly perfectly still. A likely outcome were that Duo was dead or unreachable, in which case it would be possible to recommit to being Duo's living memorial and resume the life that he'd had. A second possible outcome was that Duo had developed hostilities towards him, in which case a rivalry could be reestablished, providing both parties with reason for being. If Duo were completely wounded and incomprehensible, he could be reminded and healed. "It's the not knowing that's making me unstable. I can deal with any situation, but I can't deal with not knowing. Yes. I have mission clarity."

Quatre's hair literally danced on end, blond ghost fire that Trowa really thought might ignite at any moment. "The wars are over! This is a medical and probably psychological emergency.

"Heero will connect," Trowa decided, "through an avatar. We will set up two avatars and if we think it's warranted, one of us may join you in AI to render assistance. Is that acceptable."

"He was my lover too, you know, in the war," Quatre snapped, arms across his chest.

Trowa's eyes went wide, momentarily as innocent as Dorothy's view of the Emerald City with Quatre wearing wizard gear. "That," he said, paused as he swallowed, "was not helpful."

Arms folded over his chest, chin tucked towards his chest, Heero smirked. "That's interesting. I only new about Trowa."

Trowa's expression went from The Wizard of Oz to Night of the Living Dead in a blink. "It was a very cold night."

The snort shook Quatre and then there was laughter. "I bet it didn't stay that way. Duo is important to all of us, but Heero is probably most important to him, just like Trowa is the most important to me." Quatre held out his hand to Trowa, who slipped his fingers through Quatre's.

"Well," Howard snarked, "if you boys are done comparing your swizzle sticks. Yuy, come, sit down." Heero held up what looked like a wrist cuff with half a hundred jerry rigged wires and network connection points on it. "It's a little big for your swizzle, but we could fit it there if that's what you wanted."

Rolling up his sleeve, Heero took a seat where he could lean against the outer container of Duo's pod. "This is Sweeper work?"

"Of course," Howard said with a grin. "You gonna love it. All the bitching aside. The kid left a lock on the port. Bloody sadistic little bastard, when he wanted to be." Howard closed the cuff around Heero's wrist, but turned Heero's arm over, so his hand was palm up. "Can I have a drop of blood?"

Heero nodded. With a quick touch, Howard used a lancet on Heero's finger, let a drop of blood gather, then touched the drop down on the very small testing surface that Duo had turned into a lock. The wrist cuff woke, physical data connection sent dark lines racing up Heero's arm even as his head tilted back, his eyes dropped shut.


Heero was entirely sure that his body felt wrong, completely and utterly wrong. Why Duo had a forest overlooking a great wild blue sea, Heero had no idea. He'd expected Duo to be living in a replica of their apartment maybe, maybe on a space ship. They'd always talked about wanting a new ship, something good for long distances.

Duo himself was completely not what Heero had expected either. Violet eyes danced with excitement and and there were blue lines drawn across Duo's cheeks in the worst effort at camo paint ever. His braid had leaves and branches woven in, even though that must be damaging the thick brown mass of hair, which probably hadn't been combed in... a while. He wore ratty brown pants, a shirt that had once been white, button up, old fashioned, no shoes at all, and he floated above the ground, without a shadow.

What might have been most disturbing though was that he was a times the scale that Heero's body was. Heero frowned, very intently, so that Duo would understand just exactly how unacceptable this situation was. He meant to say, "Duo. We should wake up now," but all that came out of his mouth was a mix of angry bee and harp music.

Duo turned slowly, floating with complete comfort. He planted his hands firmly on his hips and grinned. "Tink! Don't be like that! We're gonna get Hook really good this time!"

Angry bee and harp really were not an effective communication medium.


Anonymous said…
Loving this...please continue!!

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