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Fic: A Wrench to the Heart 24/?

A Wrench to the Heart 24/?

By Max

Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing.

Warning: EXTREME violence. Shini is having a run and venting some pent up anger

Note: These events happened before the events of Chapter 23.

There had been some moments in their lives where Duo had just screamed out something along the lines of ‘OH my god!’  It was usually something kind of shocking and probably not very pleasant. Heero had always found that phrase slightly irritating. Neither of them actually believed in any gods, even though Duo sometimes spoke of believing in Father Maxwell’s god with some nostalgia. Racing up the stairs to some room... Heero expected to find someone coloring on the walls or something. Children - after all.

It wasn’t the right preparation.

He was still going forward slightly when Duo backed into him, radiating some kind of primal terror. At moments of real stress, Duo did occasionally believe in ghosts. There had been this one time - in the war - when Duo had the flu and Heero swore he advised him at least twenty times that there was no such thing as ghosts. Duo still wouldn’t leave his side. Which had been okay, because Heero wanted to be near him anyway.

So there was this woman turning and coming towards them. She looked so much like Duo, same braid, eyes, chin.  

Heero could feel Duo’s heart racing though, feel him pushing back against Heero, still trying to back up. The fear was so thick that Heero could almost share whatever stored emotion or memory Duo had.  Then her arms were around him and she was speaking, but Heero was thinking that the scary ghosts aren’t the dark raggedy specters, but visions of what we want and love and know we can’t protect because we’ve already lost it.


There is something about being someone’s partner, best friend, lover - for so long - for longer than humans used to live, longer than some storms on Jupiter - some of the person is written into your mind, a part of you and you know them. The change in Duo was so very subtle, so micro - but Heero’s hyperaware enhanced cognition picked it up. That was his own OH my GOD moment... when Shinigami added up all the variables and jumped.

Heero felt the separation as if part of his own being were being torn away.  Duo was dropping, sliding down him and he was catching him, lifting him protectively, but Shinigami was zooming farther away.

He still didn’t believe there had been real ghosts in that old house. But he also understood that he might not be able to really just tell anyone, not even Quatre would believe or understand, that Duo had just torn himself in half.

While he was working on figuring out how to explain that to Quatre and ask for permission to use the time travel again... all hell broke loose.

Sung Chang attacked.

The battle destroyed Duo’s house.

They picked up a new team mate... blue with an odd accent... who was deeply offended that there wasn’t a single church anywhere on Camelot. It’s not like there were any hospitals or trash facilities either, but pointing that had not won Heero any points.

Energy was low, too low, even after Duo woke up and turned on his hidden spare power.

And whatever Mercy thought she was doing, and Heero was sure that she meant well and acted out of love, but the results were disastrous.

Shinigami hadn’t showed back up either.


Heero had plenty of covert experience. The lingering echo of Alexander was duly shocked when Heero pressured poor Pikachu into making a second travel nexus, hacked into the power and took a dangerous amount of energy to make travel supplies and make the jump. He was going to be successful and show up with more than enough energy, a moment after he left. Heero Yuy made shit happen.

He hit the past about six hours after Shinigami did. It was like walking into a kitchen after an unlidded blender went off.  He threw up a shield over the whole area and then encountered his real challenge.... A feverish and delirious Shinigami with murderous intent, a broken leg, who was half bled out. Whatever was going on in Shinigami’s mind, holding still while Heero patched him up wasn’t really on the list.

So there was his dark ragged specter... crouched in a corner, dark violet eyes crazed and hyper, dark hair pasted to a gray face, slender fingers pawing the stained concrete, bone showing in a limp leg.   The beautiful Mercy was fear and the horrifying and battered God of Death was the light of life.

Heero squatted down a few meters from him, moving slow, nonthreatening. “Let me help you.”

Shinigami’s Dream

L2 was what it was. Operation Meteor was a decade and a half away, give or take.  Shin sat on a window ledge outside a grimy convenience store, a cigarette slowly trailing grey in one hand, bouncing small white objects in his other hand. The neighborhood was nicer than he remembered it. It was like coming home while the paint was still on the building.

“Are you lonely,” a sweet voice asked.

He stared.  She had blue eyes, suicide blonde hair, and almost enough makeup to cover the bruise on her cheek. He closed his fist around his small treasures and shoved them into his pocket. “What’s yer name?”

“Angelfood,” she said, leaning over to to show off her tits. “You like what you see?”

Shin licked his lips, thinking over his words, dark violet eyes adding her up like he was figuring out where to set the explosives. “How’d you get that bruise?”

“Is that what you like, honey? You like hittin’?” She smiled nervously. “Ican dothat.”

He took another long slow draw of his cigarette, enjoying the feeling, enjoying the tantalizing seduction of longing. “Oh I do like hitting,” he admitted as if he were sharing a delicious secret.

Her smile jerked, then she found her way back to inviting. “I... I like that too.” She gave him a price per hour. “I got.. a room, if you ya wanna.”

“Okay,” he said, his hunger rising, his mouth wetting. There was a rage in him like the fiery pillar of God and it burned bright on the memories of mom, of Father Maxwell and Sister Helen, of all the people who died in the war. Rotting flesh and screams. Oh there were so many things to do... and if he had only thought to bring more tech with him, to understand tech himself more than he had. He had to be temperate. He told himself to be reasonable... not fuck the timeline sideways.

He held his cigarette between lips, letting the red creep up towards his pale lips for a moment. Heero was just a little kid. President Heero Yuy hadn’t been assassinated yet. Maybe, if he were clever, he could avoid all the wars. Save so many lives.

“So you gonna come to my room or not?”

Shinigami eyed her a moment more, gave a curt nod. He stubbed out his cigarette carefully and tucked the remainder into his shirt pocket. “Though, I gotta get some money first. You gonna be around this area for the rest of the night?”

“You shit,” she said, hand on her hip. “You ain’t got no money. You so fuckin’ broke you saving cigarette butts. What are you wastin’ mah fuckin time for?”

“There’s somethin about about you that I like. Call it luck. I don’t know if it’s good luck or bad. Chance, nonetheless.” Shini grinned, his mouth watering at his coming plans.

“You’re creepy as fuck,” Angel said, backing away.

“You have inhibited cognitive processes, but we’re gonna fix that.  Who do you work for, little girl?”

He thought she was a little like a flower in the wind, trembling under the rough wind of a violent world. “I’m gonna be a hot house for you.”

“Yer a crazy fucker,” Angel snapped, backing away seriously now.

“Run little flower, but remember, flowers don’t choose their fate.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, turning over ideas for the coming days. He needed an income. He needed it to be out of sight of authorities, away from people who kept records, and he really wanted to kill whoever bruised that girl’s face. After all, he had two hundred and fifty years to fuck off until he got home... and suddenly, he had a greater plan. A lovely... lovely plan!


Twelve hours later....

The cage was rough, made of repurposed bullshit, electrified for the hell of it. Shinigami stepped into the cage, slender and slight in comparison to the reigning champion. He wore only his pants and some decent black boots. He’d drawn a couple lines of black grease over his cheeks and all the rage in him burned like an oil rig on fire.

The bigger man had a foot in height on him, out massed him probably by triple. He was clearly genetically modified to be a fucking jack hammer.  “What the fuck is this? I’m ready to fight, not fuck!”

Laughter echoed around the rude cage. “Don’t be like that Trumpet!” The pretty announcer girl said. “He’s not here to dance. He killed three guards to get into the cage and he’s bet all his money that he’ll beat you.”

“Oh, then I get a bonus when I break his pretty little face? Heh.. he’s got pretty eyes. I think I’ll fuck him. Gotta be flexible with these things. You like dick, pretty boy?”

“OH yeah,” Shini said, slowly licking his upper lip, “I’m in love with someone else. Sorry.”

“Well, bring him here. I’ll fuck him too,” Trumpet boasted, pumping his hips. “Is he gonna scream like you?”

“Are we gonna fight or what? You have made peace with yer god, right?”

“I am a god,” Trumpet roared. “Come here Cupcake!”

“As you will,” Shini nearly sung, charging him, fist pulled back like he was going to punch.

The two charged at each other. The crowd roared. Shini leapt, completing the arc as his fingers sank into Trumpet’s eye sockets. The crowd reacted in a choked gag.  Now Shini pulled back his fist and hit the bald side of his opponent’s head, again, and again as the giant fell. Rage vomited forth. “Who is penetrating who now,” Shini screamed as he hooked his fingers behind the dying man’s eye sockets and pulled. Shattering bone gave way, but skin just pulled, and eventually, Shini gave up, stamped his booted foot on the man’s chest and jerked his fingers free.  The crowd roared now, overcoming the shock.  The pretty announcer girl’s face went close up on the screen and she smiled, “Hello Champion! What do we call you?”

“I’m the God of Death,” Shini said, licking a finger. “Who else wants to play? Double or nothing, come play with me kitties.”


“Do you understand how your account works,” the neatly prim woman asked.

“Yeah,” Shini said, pocketing the bank account information.  “I appreciate your help.”

“We live to help,” she said with sweet sarcasm. “You listed that you are trained medical doctor on your skillset?”

“I did,” Shini said. “I think I made it clear though that I am not currently licensed in any region.”

“As a contractor to the Rox, if things do not go well, your consequences will not include a law suit, if you know what I mean,” she said, no emotion, dark eyes watching him.

“I understand. Why do you ask?”
“Work requests come in through the Central Offices as well as financial accounting. As soon as I listed you as a new physician, a request came through from Regio Santano. He would like a consultation. You have a request in for information about a prostitute named Angelfood. Regio Santano is an information specialist.”

“Splendid,” Shini said.

“I have transferred the meeting location to your inbox. Welcome to The Rox, Dr. Gami.”

“Thanks,” Shini said, touching his fingers to his forehead.

“Dr. Gami,” the woman said seriously, standing behind her desk. “Please don’t ever take your obligations to the security of The Rox lightly. You seem like a unique individual. It would be a shame to have you fed into the mulch.”

Those violet eyes glittered, a seething hatred for violent authority. “Oh I promise to take The Rox very seriously.”

Eyes narrowing, she stared at him.  “You had better. The organization is not some idiot thug in a cage fight.”

“Of course not,” Shini purred. “Thank you so much for the referral. I’d better get off to see my patient, hadn’t I?”

“You do that.”


Knowing how much poverty and misery was on L2 was deeply disconcerting as he sat in a very nice automated taxi with seats so much like leather that he only knew they weren’t leather because he was nearly three hundred years old and had been around a few things. The house that he arrived at was a lovely house in a very respectable and elegant neighborhood. This was a whole different world than his much younger self was trying to survive in.  

His recently purchased medical kit in one hand, as he knocked on the door, all the rage seemed spent. He’d planned for centuries of murder, but... now he wanted something else entirely. He wanted Heero and home and medicine. There was a sadness that was also a release.  


The door opened finally and a mousy little person stared at him.

“I’m the doctor,” he said softly. “I’m here to help.”


“This one’s mine. You gonna have a problem with that,” Shini asked sweetly.

Jake pulled his sunglasses off and leaned back in his chair. “I don’t give a shit if you’re The Rox’s new pet doctor. You’re not takin one of my whores. I bought her off her mama proper. She’s special to me. Aren’t you, Little Cake?”

The girl nodded, her eyes on the floor. “Yes, sir.”

“Do you have things you want to take with you,” Shinigami asked her.

She nodded as slight as she could, so she could deny it if she needed to.   

“Go get your things. Anyone who touches her is going to hurt.”

“Don’t move. Damn it. Don’t you fuckin get it? She’s mine. I BOUGHT her.  I paid in cash. She’s mine. I’m gonna sell that ass until it’s too used up to sell, then I’m gonna part her out. People will fuckin pay for parts these days. If she thinks she’s too good to work for me, I’ll just start getting my money back early.”

“Really,” Shinigami said, sitting himself down at the table with the pimp. It was early in the day, too early for the night club to be up and running. The man clearly didn’t face much opposition as there was no real security around. “I misunderstood. How many of these girls did you own? Did you tattoo’em with numbers or something?”

Jake accepted a bottle of beer from a girl in a pink maid outfit, motioned her over to Shinigami. “Look, this isn’t The Rox territory, but I think we just got off to a bad start. If you want to fuck her, I can deal with that. See if you can find where I put the number on her.”

“Look, I’m a kinky bastard. As I make my way home, there’s a lot of shit I’m just going to have to overlook. That’s a damn shame. There’s a lot I’d really like to get done. I ain’t even got a problem with prostitution, but in this particular case, we gonna be respectin human rights.” Shinigami sighed. Life had been so much easier where weren’t such loud echos of Duo playing in his soul. “The real question is are you going to distribute your funds between all these people equally or am I gonna cut you up into little pieces and do it myself?”

“What do you think that’s gonna do? Ain’t none o’em got IDs. They’re gonna what? Go get waitress jobs? All they know how to do is suck dick.”

“You know, I suddenly feel sympathy for you. I’m not real sure what to do about that,” Shini said thoughtfully. “As for the rest of you - you’ve been slaves. You’ve been prostitutes. Wanna be pirates?”

A tall, slender woman with dark skin and a halo of hair rolled her eyes. “Are you insane? Like Har har har! Gimme yer gold matey?”

“Kind of... I mean space pirates in a beautiful black ship with a cloaking device... we’ll prey on targets that deserve to be had, share the spoils between us and to people who need.”

“Like Robin Hood,” a younger girl asked.

Shinigami winked at her.

She stared at him, head tilting.  “Do you got a spaceship?”

“No.. but I can steal one and I know how to build a better one. So do you want to be free pirates?”



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