Author: CleverYoungThief
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, Angst, sexual implications, violence
Pairing: None
Archive: Gundam Wing Addiction
Disclaimer: Contrary to popular belief, I don't own any of the characters herein. Most political situations, people, and events in these stories are fictional, and don't belong to me, and are taken without permission because I'm too damned lazy to make up my own. The characters and events and stuff in here that ARE mine ARE mine, so don't take them, and if you do, I'll hunt you down and kill you with a spork.
Note: This fic centers around Duo meeting up with Foxy Maxwell, aka Father Phineas, an OC I sometimes use in my fics that center around L2.
Green-Eyed Ghost: On the Right Side of the Line
Duo ran down the corridor of the OZ base, ducking into a pilot's lounge. Red lights flashed and loud sirens screamed in his ears everywhere he ran.
/ Just gotta hope there ain't any pilots hanging around drinking coffee right now. There shouldn't be, anyway. This whole damned base is on battle alert. /
Unfortunately, Lady Luck had abandoned him at the turnpike. A young soldier, twenty-something, was sitting on the couch, obviously ignoring the battle alert. He had a mop of dark red hair and intense, piercing green eyes. Duo's heart stopped in his chest. Those eyes widened as they saw Duo, then narrowed as he recognized him. "It's you... it's Solo's kid..." the soldier said in quiet skepticism. "You're not dead..."
/ It's Foxy it's Foxy holy mother of God it's Foxy what is he doing here is that an OZ uniform?! /
Suddenly, the dumbest thing Duo had ever heard come out of his own mouth issued forth. "Neither are you."
Foxy moved toward him with a deceptive slowness. Even yards away from him, Duo could sense the tension and absolute shock in him. Duo sidestepped, putting the table in the center of the officer's lounge between them. He had his gun, but he didn't want to pull it on Foxy. And he wouldn't if he didn't have to.
/ Sure I will. 'Cause I've seen that look in Foxy's eyes before. He's gonna kill me. If we was in a street rumble right now, his switchblade would be out. /
His best hope was to just escape. Great chance of that happening. Of all the fast runners in Duo's little gang of old, Foxy was the biggest. And the fastest.
"You think you're gonna fucking catch me for them?!" Duo snarled in disbelief, edging towards the door. "You want them to kill me too, just like they killed Solo? You haven't committed your daily quota of sins yet? You want to get rid of one of the only buddies you got left? Whatever fucking happened to the Foxy I knew five years ago?"
Foxy smiled. It was a sad smile, but it was chilling just the same. "You think I'm just the devil now, donc'tcha pal?"
"You're supposed to be dead! They shot you!" "Yeah, but ghosts don't wear scars, kid." Foxy's smile widened a little.
// He has the balls to think this is funny? //
Duo broke free for the door, grabbed the handle, twisted, pulled. The door wasn't budging. Then Foxy was on him, trapping him against the door, hands planted against the door on either side of him.
// Fuck. //
"You tryin' to run out on me now, kid? Whoever fucking said I was going to turn you over to them? Sit down a spell. I'll lock the door, we'll catch up on the last five years we've thought you were dead, you ungrateful son of a bitch." Foxy's voice, rasped and husky from fifteen years of smoking, was furious. Duo could feel his breath on the back of his neck, smelling like cigarettes.
"Where in the hell have you been for five years?" Foxy murmured in his ear. "We have so much to talk about. For instance, buddy, what the fuck are you doing here?"
"Doing what Solo would've wanted me to do, Fox. That's all," Duo hissed back at him.
"Don't you get it, Duo?! Solo was crazy, and he was mad-out for blood with OZ. He saw OZ soldiers rape and kill his sister, that drove him crazy, Duo. You know that. He was a good guy, Duo, but he really was crazy. Crazy, Duo, can you catch that wave? And now you're here on the wrong side of the line, bud."
Duo turned his head, trying to look into Foxy's green eyes. "What about you?! What makes you so fucking sure you're on the right side of the line? Foxy, they killed Father Maxwell! They killed Helen! And they killed almost every-fucking-body else! Why would you join OZ, Foxy? By all that's holy, why?!?"
Foxy's mouth twisted into a snarl that matched Duo's own in viciousness. "Five years after that, you don't show up. We found Solo, we found everybody, we buried 'em. They're dead, Duo. But there's still kids that need food and clean water and blankets and vaccines for the plague. They're alive! Look at me, Duo! I'm twenty-two fucking years old. Too damned old to be turning tricks on street corners. And I'll be damned if I'll let any of our kids do it."
He let up on Duo a little bit. "But they still gotta eat, Duo. OZ pays good allotment money. It may be dirty money, bud, but it still puts food in those kid's mouths, and you should know that when it comes to food, you ain't gonna ask where it came from, or how the older ones got it. I'm not gonna let them starve on principles, kid. Those kids are eating better and sleeping easier than they ever were when Solo was there."
"Why don't you get a job?" Duo spat.
"Duo, how can you even ask that after living on L2, you dumb fuck!" Foxy said in wonder. "It ain't exactly the land of opportunity, and we ain't exactly the March Of Fucking Dimes. So you didn't even come back to pitch in. You just disappear for five years and guess what? The next time I see you, I got a cushy job as a infantry mobile suit pilot for OZ and you're piloting free for rebels that only cause us gutter trash more grief with the soldiers."
Duo's violet eyes were suddenly uncertain. "I didn't mean--"
"The hell you didn't!" Foxy roared against the back of Duo's neck, enjoying the way Duo winced. He wanted Duo scared of him. Duo had reason to be scared of him. As far as he was concerned, Duo was still seven years old and in need of a serious heart-to-heart. "You didn't even come back! You just assumed everybody was dead and went off on some vengeance quest. Well, I'll tell you one thing, kiddo. Rebels don't put food on the fucking table!"
"Whatever happened to your dignity, man!"
"Dignity, Duo? Hah, little cocksucker, do you even know the meaning of the word? Dignity don't put no food on the table either! Of all people, you should know that. You sacrificed yours at an early age, kid." Duo felt the pressure Foxy was putting on him increase.
"Yeah, but I don't work for the guys that broke my best friend's neck like a fuckin' twig either! I may have turned a trick back on L2, but I wouldn't fight for OZ if they were payin' in gold fuckin' bullion!" With all the power Duo could call up, he brought his right knee up into Foxy's groin, then dropped to the floor as Foxy staggered back, doubled over, swearing. "Son of a bitch! Fuck! Fuck!"
/ Please oh please oh please Jesus Mother Mary Joseph the fucking carpenter from Brooklyn it's about time to pull that gun now... / Duo groped for his sawed-off pistol. It was gone.
/ Aw hell... /
"Lookin' for this, kid?"
Duo's gun was suddenly lying in the palm of Foxy's hand, one finger hooked through the trigger guard. He had dropped to his knees behind Duo and now grabbed Duo's braid hard, shoving his body into Duo's, pushing him over to pin him against the wall.
"You're a dirtyfighter, kid. You always were a resourceful brat." Foxy's voice sounded amused.
"Fuck you, Foxy!"
"Don't give me any ideas, kiddo," Foxy whispered, keeping Duo pinned hard against the wall.
Slowly, he rose up, Duo's braid still wrapped around his hand twice, drawing Duo up with him. He had Duo's own gun pressed against the nape of Duo's neck. "Now, where were we before you tried to kick my balls up to my back teeth, buddy?"
"Somewhere between back-stabbing and faithless," Duo growled at him like a wild animal.
"Who was it that told you to come down here like this? Fucking talk to me, Duo! We used to be good friends, man."
"You think I'm gonna tell you? Are you out of your mind? Oh, Christ, look who I'm asking! Jesus!"
Foxy wagged the muzzle of the gun in Duo's face like a finger. "You still got a smart mouth, you know. When's the last time you said your Hail-Marys?"
"Well just shoot me, take me to your superiors or fucking let me go, Foxy! I'm getting a cramp in my shoulders! You sure as hell weigh a lot more than you did last time I saw you!"
Foxy laughed and backed off, scratching behind his ear with the muzzle of the gun. "I'm thinking about it. I don't know what the fuck I'm gonna do with you, kid. You're a piece of work, that's for sure."
"Geez, will you be careful with that damned thing!" Duo yelled. "It's got a hair trigger! If you're not gonna kill me I'd rather your dumbass friends not have to scrape your brains off the coffeemaker."
Foxy laughed again. "What, your gun? I already took the magazine out." He pulled it out of his pocket and tossed it at Duo, who let it bounce off his chest in wide-eyed disbelief. "Figured it'd be too tempting for either me or you, kid."
Duo glared, indignant. "Why do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"You still call me 'kid', like you're a hundred fucking years old and I'm still six."
Foxy's smile was wry, but it was the old smile Duo was used to seeing. Foxy's smile. He had always been the oldest of their gang. He reached out and lifted Duo's chin with his hand, the way he had always used to do when Duo could really still be called a kid. "I am older than you, a lot older, in ways you'll never be. Because you got out. You got out of the gutters. But that's where I still have to sleep at night when I go home on furlough."
Duo could see every pain-filled, desperate year, every burden in those eyes. He could see the weight of the earth and colonies combined in those eyes. He turned away, but when he brought his eyes back to Foxy's, he had a switchblade beneath Foxy's chin. He had had it taped to his side beneath his muscle suit. "There is one thing I've learned from the guys I've been hanging with since I left L2, and that's that the Mission is more important than anything (1). Call my bluff if you want to, Foxy. Just don't be surprised when I slit your fucking throat."
Duo expected fury, aggravation at the very, very least. He definitely didn't expect Foxy to laugh. "Way to go, Duo! That's the kid I used to know! Learn that from your friends, didya? Hell no. You learned that from us. You gotta lot of sass, kiddo."
"Yeah, and I'm about to nick your jugular with a blade of it. Don't move." For once, Foxy listened. "I was being serious when I said I wasn't turning you over to OZ. But I'm still pissed at you for bushing out on us, kid. Pissed at me?"
"That would be the understatement of the year. These guys killed my best friend and yours. Crazy, maybe, but he was still our friend and he trusted us. They killed the only father, the only mothers we ever had. I try to fix things for us and you just take the easiest way out. Then I run into you working for OZ. Pissed doesn't cover it, man."
"You're gonna have to get over it if you're gonna let me get you out of here alive," Foxy said, grinning.
"You get me out? Work together with you? Hell, I don't even want to be in the same room with you right now, Fox!"
"Oh yeah, that..."
Foxy moved quick, knocking Duo's switchblade away. It skittered across the floor and slid under a couch. He drew Duo hard against him, holding one of Duo's arms behind his back until the braided pilot yowled.
"... is not an option."
He suddenly let Duo go, laughing again. "I can help you get out of here, Duo. You need my help, kid. We both want the same thing, don't we? For things to get better back at home."
"Five minutes ago you were ready to kill me, Fox," Duo reminded him. "Why would you help me?"
"'Cause you're one of the gang. And blood's thicker than oaths of loyalty under any fuckin' army, am I right? Duo, you an' me got a bond like we was in Vietnam. Don't blow it. Still hate me?" "Only if you're doing this for yourself," Duo replied.
"Nope. It's all for the kids."
"Then I can't hate you for it. Guess I've done worse to put food in my own mouth and theirs. I can't hate you for this. For this, I guess I have to respect you."
"You're one fucked-up kid, you know that, Duo?"
Duo smirked. "Foxy, I'm the God of Death, one-of-a-kind. Ain'tcha glad?"
"You have no idea. Really."
Foxy walked over to the table, jumped up on it with the grace of a L2 street veteran, and opened the air vent. "Take this vent to the hangar, but be careful. You don't want to fall through the ceiling onto some officer's head, am I right? You can get out of the base from there. This way, you won't have to worry about being seen between here and there. You got it?"
"Fox--come with me, man. Come with us." Duo's violet eyes were pleading. Foxy shook his head. "No. Don't say anything else, kid. Just go. I never saw you. And if we meet on the battlefield, we'll just have to burn that bridge when we get here. Now get the hell outta here. I ain't gonna be givin' you any helps next time around. From now on... you're on your own."
Duo did what he was told, climbing up into the vent. He poked his head out, his braid hanging down. "Foxy, be careful, man."
"Aren't I always? You're the one that needs to be careful, ya reckless punk. Now go, you dimwit, before someone walks in and sees us both." He touched two fingers to his forehead beneath his unruly red hair in salute, turned, and walked out of the pilot's lounge. Duo quickly pulled the vent cover back up before anyone could see it, and headed towards the hangar, crawling on his hands and knees in the vent. He paused a minute to rest his cheek against the cool metal, then kept moving. He wasn't out of the woods yet.
OWARI
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