Disclaimer: The G-boys and Gundam Wing don’t belong to me.
Warnings: Located in the first part. Be sure to look or you might be surprised.
FIGHTING THE DARKNESS – PART 3
He was engulfed in darkness, surrounded, penetrated by it to the depths of his soul. There was no way to fight his way from the everlasting agony of…nothing. Entombed in silence, he struggled to break the chains restraining him.
Of all the things he had expected, this hadn’t been one of them. He had known taking his life would send him into the fiery depths of hell, but it had been a certainty he was already headed there, so there wasn’t much he could do to stop the journey. He could deal with an eternity filled with torture and pain – it wasn’t much different from his sham of a life. He had expected that, almost welcomed the eternal torment from the blazing pit. Being suspended in a void, however, was maddening.
Days, weeks, months could have passed while he was trapped in the nihility, unable to see, unable to hear, unable to move. He had tried to speak, stopping when the sound fell flat, sounding strangely muffled as if his ears were stuffed full of cotton.
The voices began softly, a murmur of words he couldn’t understand. Straining he listened closer, wishing he could identify where the voices came from. When the voices grew louder, he began to smile, stopping with his mouth set in a grimace as he started to separate words and sentences, spoken in voices from his past.
“Worthless brat.”
“No one wants you.”
“Dirty, filthy…”
“You should have died instead of me.”
“…waste of space.”
“You’ll never amount to anything.”
“Long-haired fool.”
“Can’t do anything right.”
No longer muffled, the words rose in volume until his ears threatened to bleed, his dead coming back to haunt him, accompanied by the insults from the still living. Hundreds of voices came together in a tortuous cacophony, clamoring for attention. He could hear kids from his years on the streets, those from the church, soldiers he had killed on the battlefield. Over these there was also the cold tone of Heero, his closest friend. Quatre’s voice mingled with Wufei’s, Noin’s, Sally’s, Howard’s, and even Hilde’s. Over all of them were others, sneering voices tinted with cruelty that had tormented his sleep – when he had been able to sleep.
“You like that, pretty boy?”
“You were made for things like this, weren’t you?”
Eternal torture was preferable to this barrage of insults and mockery. He would rather have his skin peeled off an inch at a time than to have to listen to those he had let die, those that had forgotten him, and those that had taken his pride.
Having no other way to drown out the terrible shouts filling his mind, he opened his mouth and screamed…and screamed…and screamed.
Throat on fire, Trowa wrenched himself from sleep and ran for the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before he threw up his dinner from the night before, retching until there was nothing left. Dizzy, he stayed on his knees for several minutes to make sure he was finished before slowly getting up and brushing his teeth thoroughly, removing the taste of sickness from his mouth.
The hotel phone was ringing by the time he made it out of the bathroom, so he answered it, croaking through a sore throat. “Hello?”
“We’ve had a number of complaints from other rooms, sir. You have to keep the noise down or we’ll have to ask you to leave.”
“I’m sorry. I had a…nightmare. It won’t happen again,” he vowed, rubbing a hand over his throat in an attempt to ease the ache.
“Be sure it doesn’t. If there’s another complaint…”
“I understand. I apologize for any grievances.”
Hanging up, he decided he wouldn’t spend another night in this establishment whether he found Duo that day or not. In the shower he let the water run over him as he thought about the nightmares beginning to plague his sleep. Though he was tired – it was only a few minutes after four in the morning – he had no intention of going back to sleep for fear of revisiting Duo’s hell, for there was no doubt that was what was happening to him. The notion was insane and something he wouldn’t have even considered three days ago, before experiencing two dreams or visions or whatever had showed him Duo, a man he hadn’t spoken to in over a year. Even then, there hadn’t been much conversation. He had believed he had nothing in common with the former pilot of Deathscythe, his own past as dark as his soul. Foolishly, he had looked only on the surface and had seen nothing more than the cheerful smiles and jokes, never believing the same emptiness lurked within the long-haired man.
It had been a long time since Trowa had felt much of anything, so it took him some time to understand the shame he felt now for not looking beneath the surface. If he had taken the time to look past the façade, would he have seen the pain Duo harbored inside? This was one of the many questions he had to answer, and to do that, he had to find Duo.
Thoughts of food were shoved aside when his stomach rolled. Instead he spent some time searching the local news for any sign of Duo, unsurprised when there was nothing. For all his noise during the war, Duo had a way of being completely silent and fading into the background when attention was unwanted.
The hours passed slowly and at six o’clock he headed out, bag slung over one shoulder. On the street he kept a cautious watch for the people of the night that hadn’t yet ceased their prowling, stopping his steps only once when he was confronted by two men carrying long metal rods, their eyes unfocused from whatever form of drug pulsing in their systems.
He didn’t back down, knowing that would be a sign of weakness that could end his journey right on the street, in full view of the open businesses. No one would rush to his aid – it was likely he would be robbed once he was down, his body left to rot in the alley just to his right. Keeping his eyes on the men he shifted slightly, allowing his leather jacket to flutter open and give the men a glimpse of the gun tucked into his waistband, as well as the gun seated in his holster. Seeing the flicker from one man, he lifted his arm, palm up, sleeve riding up his arm just enough to reveal the hilt of a knife as well, “You won’t win,” he stated softly, conveying the truth.
He didn’t know if common sense overrode their desire for the money he was bound to have, but they did back away, not turning their backs to him until they were far down the road. Once he was positive they were gone, he continued toward his destination. The building wasn’t hard to find, one of the many that lined the road, all practically identical in construction. Entering the apartment, he bypassed the manager’s door, identified by a plaque on the door, deciding he would approach the manager only if he was unable to gain entrance into the apartment he sought.
On the third floor he turned to the left after stepping away from the stairs, frowning as he realized the entire building was shrouded in silence. He had assumed people would already be up and preparing for work, letting the usual noises of life filter through closed doors, but there was nothing. It wasn’t much of a surprise to find Duo’s apartment at the end of the hallway, located beside a window with a rickety fire escape outside it.
The same disturbing silence came from Duo’s door as he knocked, lightly at first. Getting no response, he knocked louder and harder, progressing until he was banging on the door with his fist. He might have continued pounding the faux wooden door, was actually considering shouting for Duo to open the damn door when a door opened behind him. “Nobody gonna answer the door, even if you beat it down.”
Turning, he regarded the woman that had spoken huskily, clothed only in her underwear, a see-through robe tossed over it. She was at ease with her near-nudity, but not suffering from any visible addiction so he didn’t think she was a prostitute, almost immediately categorizing her as a stripper, one with the sense to take care of herself. While her body was curvy and voluptuous, her hair drew his attention, blonde waves cascading over her shoulders.
“You keep starin’ and I’m gonna start chargin’ hon,” she drawled, her tone welcoming but her mouth turned down in disapproval.
“I’m looking for Duo Maxwell.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, she tilted her head, “You ain’t gonna find him here.”
“This is listed as his residence. Has he moved?”
“You a cop or somethin’?”
“A friend,” he supplied, hoping Duo would regard it as the truth.
Expressing her disbelief with a dignified snort, she studied him, “Got a name, friend?”
“Trowa.”
“Barton?” He blinked at the use of his surname, nodding in answer. In a matter of seconds, her entire demeanor changed and she stepped away from the door, leaving it open as she turned back inside. “He talked about you sometimes. Said you were an honest man. He respected you a whole lot.” Stunned by her words, Trowa remained silent as she searched a drawer, jumping slightly when she suddenly exclaimed, “There it is.”
Wishing he was better at words, he stared at her as she moved toward the door again, giving him a sultry smile probably meant to heat his blood. “We could go back into my bedroom. I’ve always wanted to say I had sex with a Preventer agent.”
The bold statement yanked him out of his stupor. “I’m sure to someone else that would be a tempting proposition.”
“You don’t think I’m beautiful?”
“You’re beautiful, but not my type,” he offered, wondering how he could be having this conversation when Duo’s apartment was less than ten feet away.
A pout formed on her lips, “Not enough hips? Too much leg? Don’t like blondes?”
Wanting the topic closed, he shook his head, “I don’t like breasts.”
“My boobs are too big?” she asked, incredulous.
“You have breasts. I’m gay,” he added when she continued to stare.
“At least you have a good reason. Duo never took me up on the offer, either.”
Following the woman across the hallway, Trowa tried to push aside the worry he felt, using the woman as a distraction. “Duo isn’t a Preventer agent.”
“Nope, but he was a Gundam pilot.”
“Why did he turn you down?” He wasn’t going to admit he had also been a pilot, fearing the woman might not be so casual about being turned down.
“Wasn’t interested when he first moved in, then after what happened to him, he couldn’t bear the thought of sex.”
Waiting until she finally unlocked the door, he preceded her inside, “What happened to him?”
Looking around the room, she winced, “I guess it was going to happen eventually. He was so pretty he was bound to get the attention of some of the sickos in the area. He did manage to avoid them for longer than I thought he would, but I swear that made them even more frantic to get their hands on him.”
Knowing what he might find in the apartment didn’t stop him from looking, stepping in the small living room and staring down at the floor beneath his feet, scarred from numerous residents over the years. “He was assaulted.”
“That’s a pleasant word for it,” the woman snorted derisively. After a moment she sighed, “I knew he was bothered by what happened, but I didn’t expect him to kill himself.”
Trowa’s chest tightened even though he had expected something terrible. Swallowing hard, he moved through the postage-stamp sized apartment, unerringly finding the chair Duo had sat in the kitchen, twin pools of dried blood to either side of it on the floor. The knife still lay where it had dropped, rust colored stains marring the gleaming blade.
Hearing his own ragged breathing, he was barely able to hear the woman as she appeared at his side, also staring at the chair. “If the medics hadn’t gotten here so fast, Duo would have bled to death. There was so much blood.”
“You were here?”
“I’m the one that found him. He was supposed to come over for dinner. When he didn’t show up I got worried and let myself in. I called the paramedics and made sure to tell them who he was. That’s the only reason they were in a hurry. A lot of people still feel indebted to the Gundams.” She shrugged and averted her eyes from the grisly scene. “It seems bad here, but before the war ended it was so much worse. At least now it’s possible to have a job that pays more than a few credits a day.”
Finding it difficult to care about the condition of the colony, he speared her with a glare, cutting off her words. “Duo’s alive?”
“Sort of. He’s in a coma.”
“Where is he?”
“The hospital in Karney sector. It’s the closest one with the equipment they needed to take care of him.” She made a distressed noise when he crouched down and picked up the knife, looking at it for a moment before tucking it into his bag. “Why’d you take that? That’s just morbid.”
“Duo’s had it for years. When he’s better he’ll want it back.”
“You must not understand people very well. He used this to try and kill himself. He won’t want it back.”
Standing, he lifted his eyebrows when he saw her shudder of revulsion. “I don’t understand most people, but I understand Duo. He’ll want it back.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I would.”