Author: CleverYoungThief
Rating: R
Warnings: Gore, angst, language, shounen ai, yaoi, and Heero (who deserves his own warning).
Pairing: 1+/x2
Archive: Gundam Wing Addiction
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Don't sue. College kids are like L2 kids; we got nothin'.
Sacrifice Part 1
For The Mission
The five Gundams stopped in front of the police barricade. Five hatches opened. No pilots came out.
Someone shouted through a bullhorn from a squad car. "GUNDAM PILOTS: COME OUT OF THE MOBILE SUITS WITH YOUR HANDS OVER YOUR HEADS. THROW DOWN YOUR WEAPONS."
Somewhere on his right, Heero could hear Duo laugh. "We're ridin' in them, dummies!"
"ALL CIVILIANS LEAVE THE AREA. THERE MAY BE SHOOTING. ALL CIVILIANS LEAVE THE AREA OR YOU MAY BE CHARGED WITH OBSTRUCTION OF JUSTICE. THE PENALTY IS TEN YEARS IN PRISON OR A FINE OF TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS OR BOTH. CLEAR THE AREA. CLEAR THE AREA. WE ARE STILL UNDER MARTIAL LAW."
Some civilians left, mostly the everyday gawkers. Most, like the reporters, didn't.
A news crew started to set up a tripod camera at the base of the Gundams. Police took the camera and smashed it in the road. One of the cameramen tried to get at the policeman who broke his camera and was hit with a billy- club.
Fistfights broke out in the crowd.
Heero looked down into the rioting crowd sadly. // What in the hell did we fight for? // He closed his eyes. // It's over... and I'm tired. So tired... //
"HEERO YUY. COME DOWN FROM YOUR MOBILE SUIT WITH YOUR HANDS OVER YOUR HEAD. YOUR COMMANDING OFFICERS HAVE BEEN SUMMONED. PREPARE TO BE COLLECTED."
Duo scowled and got down from his Gundam, not bothering to throw away his weapon. The others did the same. // Collected? What in the hell does that mean? //
Heero got out of Wing and sank exhaustedly to the foot of his Gundam, letting the photographers and the reporters get their pictures. They were going to take them, anyway.
Suddenly, three black cars drove up, pushing their way through the crowds. They weren't shiny. They were dull black, not shiny like most cars... the dead black color of space itself.
When the cars stopped, seven men in dark suits got out. One of the police went over to them, but was flashed a badge. The local officer backed away.
The men stalked towards the Gundam pilots. Towards Heero.
Duo suddenly felt a sinking feeling in his gut.
// Heero! // But it was too late to cry a warning.
One of the men grabbed Heero by the arm and hurled him, stumbling, to his feet. "Get up, maggot!" Heero was pulled towards the black car, stumbling dazedly on legs too weak to walk.
"Hey!" Duo came forward, fists clenched. "You can't fuckin' treat him like- "
The Deathscythe pilot suddenly found a gun shoved in his face. Some of the photographers and reporters in the crowd gasped. The man holding it looked at him with gray eyes so cold, they looked like those of a snake. "Not another step, you, or you'll get your brains blown out all over worldwide broadcast. Soldier 2457 is the main subject of Project Apocalypse. He's bought and paid for; we've put millions of dollars into him. And we're taking him back. His objectives have been completed. He's obsolete."
These words rang through Duo's mind, and he could barely comprehend them over the disbelief. // Obsolete? Obsolete!? He isn't a fucking machine!! //
Incredibly, Heero didn't seem afraid. He stood passively within the circle of men in black suits and the only emotion on his face was resignation. They had taken the first opportunity they had to handcuff him out of fear for their own safety. He stood with his hands cuffed behind his back, head bowed low, face hidden by his bangs.
"Just wait a minute-" Quatre said, starting forward.
Another gun, this one from one of the men surrounding Heero. "Don't get any closer. We have military jurisdiction. You don't have the right to interfere. And we will shoot."
"It's all right, Duo," Heero said finally. His voice was soft. "It isn't anyone's fault. I knew it was going to happen."
The one leading the men, the one with reflective silver sunglasses over his eyes, looked at Heero. "You're coming home, 2457. Mission accomplished."
There was such stark, raw relief in Heero's face that Duo screamed in fury, stalking forward again. The men in suits brought up their guns... Wufei caught him, kept him from jumping on the smug, cold man in the silver sunglasses..
"He isn't going fucking anywhere!! He is home! He isn't obsolete, he's a damned human being! You don't own him anymore!"
"Duo, stop," Heero said, in that still, flat voice. "Just stop." He wouldn't meet any the gaze of any of his comrades.
One of the men, the one who had pointed the gun at Quatre, looked Duo over. "I think he wants to come with you, 2457. Want a little company? He isn't one of the Potentials... but he's pretty well-trained, at that. He could be useful..." He stared at the other pilots, as if they were merchandise for sale. "All of them could." Quatre stepped back under that cold, assessing gaze. Trowa and Wufei glared back.
"I'll come," Heero whispered. "But they stay here. All of them."
"No, Heero!"
Heero's head snapped up, fire in his cobalt eyes. "Duo, yamatta! Duo no baka!"
"Bring the braided one," one of the men said.
"NO!" Heero jerked against his handcuffs, causing the men to have to hold him down. It took five of them. "He stays here! They all stay here!!"
The one in the sunglasses turned around and backhanded him. Hard. The Wing pilot stumbled to his knees until he was jerked up by the others. He spat blood on the grass, lowering his gaze submissively.
"We're not for sale, motherfucker," Duo said coldly, pulling his gun. He looked down at Heero, then back down the barrel of his own pistol. "None of us."
Wufei and Trowa pulled their own guns. Some of the mob screamed and backed away. Cameras flashed from the surrounding reporters like lightning.
Quatre shouted, frantic. "Don't shoot into the crowd, for Allah's sake! Don't shoot!" His expression flickered uncertainly back and forth between the milling crowd, the men in the suits, and his fellow pilots. "There's too many civilians here! We'll kill bystanders!!"
The one in the sunglasses was looking down at Heero with an expression of disgust on his face. "You have become insolent since your time on Earth, 2457. Have you forgotten who it is who gives the orders in this operation? Who it is that provides the Mission?"
"You do, Straub." Heero's voice was flat and emotionless.
"Damned straight. And if I say you'll come-" Straub glanced coldly at the other pilots. His own men had pulled their guns as well. "-you'll fucking come. On your hands and knees, if I say so. Do you understand, 2457?"
"Hai."
"J might be dead, but you still answer to me. All you are is a weapon, 2457. And don't we know all the weapons have to be destroyed?"
"...Hai."
Duo ran forward, gun in his hand. The TV cameras surrounding all of them tracked him enthusiastically.
Trowa dropped his gun and grabbed Duo by both shoulders, pulling him back violently. Trowa hissed in his ear. "No, Duo! No! They'll kill you!"
"Fucking let me go!" Duo writhed in his arms.
Trowa's grip tightened. "I won't let you kill yourself, you idiot!"
"LET ME GO GODDAMMIT!"
"Do you want to die in his arms, you numb fuck!? Just stop, Duo! Listen to him and stop! You can't do anything!!"
Heero was sobbing wordlessly, tearlessly, as if they had already beaten all of the tears out of him. That finished it for Duo. He lunged free of Trowa. Four guns clicked as they prepared to fire.
// Heero- //
Trowa grabbed him again.
"Let me go! Let me go, you motherfucker!" Duo snarled, but Trowa would not relent.
Trowa whispered in his ear. "You must hate him, Duo. You must hate him, to want to die knowing that the last thing he ever sees of you is your blood sprayed across his face. You dead and bleeding at his feet. Is that what you want?! Stop it, Duo!"
Straub looked back at Duo, his sunglasses showing the braided pilot a frantic reflection of himself. He smiled, and the expression sent chills down Trowa's neck.
"We'll let you decide. You seem very fond of 2457... 02... Maxwell? Duo Maxwell, was it? You're his friend, aren't you? And friends protect each other? Don't you want to stay with him? Don't you want to protect him?"
Duo said nothing, but he stopped struggling. He stood there in furious grief, Trowa's hands like immovable anchors on his shoulders.
// He's my friend... // Duo looked at the Wing pilot hanging in the arms of the other suited men. Tears welled in his eyes. // Jesus Heero...I wish I'd never met you... //
Wufei spoke for Duo, his voice sharp and daring anyone to say otherwise. "He's not going anywhere with you. And neither is Yuy."
Wufei willed Heero to do or say anything to his defense. Anything. // Come on, Yuy! // he thought, scowling in disbelief. // Kill them! Do something! You could have killed them already! Just do it one more time! Kill them all!! //
But it wasn't any good. Heero just stood there, silently standing in the circle of suited men, bloody smeared across his cheek. As submissive as a kicked dog.
// Dammit Yuy, why don't you fight back!? //
"Please..." Duo whispered. "Please just let him go."
Straub turned his gaze to Duo again. "He's coming with us. Weapons must be disposed of, and he's a menace to society. We created him. It is our scientific responsibility to dispose of him. You have to understand something, Maxwell. And the rest of you. 2457 is dangerous. It's our duty to take care of him." He gestured towards the nervous reporters around them. "You see these people? They're civilians, Maxwell. They are not warriors-they will not and they cannot accept the way 2457 is. He will not be able to relate to them, nor they to him. He cannot make friends, or have lovers. Innocent people cannot be exposed to him."
"That's not true! You don't even know him!!"
Straub smiled, but under the smile he could see the scientist's terrible, utter contempt. Contempt for the soldiers he trained and sent out into the world. "Of course we know him. We made him. Don't you understand that? If you interfere, we'll kill him first. And then you. Drop your weapons. Now. Or we'll do it here. In front of all these lovely people."
Quatre dropped his gun, slowly raising his hands. Wufei did the same, pure hatred blazing in his dark eyes. Hesitating, Duo dropped his gun. But he would not admit defeat. He stood with his hands clenched at his sides, as if he meant to lunge at the men at any moment.
"Leave them alone. I'll come," Heero whispered, as if his voice had been kicked out of him. He looked up at Duo, and the expression on his face was full of regret. Tears streaked silently down his face. He spoke calmly and softly. "I'm so sorry, Duo. So sorry. I didn't mean... to get involved. I wasn't supposed to."
Duo dropped his gun and ran forward again, but the men in suits did not shoot him. He threw his arms around Heero's neck. His voice was a frantic murmur, his amethyst eyes bright with tears.
"Please, Heero. Don't go. Don't go. Don't let them take you. You can break away, I know you can. Fight them. No prison can hold Heero Yuy. I know it."
Straub laughed. "We don't have to hold him, you idiot! He wants to come. It's his last objective. He'll tell you why. What are you, 2457?"
"... Don't make me do this."
"Say it."
Heero's voice was flat with humiliation. "A dog of war."
"What do all good dogs do, 2457?"
"...They come home to their masters."
"And we know what happens to bad dogs, don't we?"
"...They get shot."
Straub laughed merrily. "That's right! They get shot! So where are you going now, 2457?"
Heero looked up into Duo's eyes. "I'm going Home."
Straub's expression went chilled and mean again. "Damn straight you are. Now get him in the fucking car."
Heero whispered in Duo's ear, even as the other suited men tightened their hold on him again. "I have to go. Take the others. Keep them safe. It's better this way. Trust me. It's how I'm supposed to finish the Mission."
"Fuck the Mission!" Duo hissed, squeezing tighter. "It's over! The War's over!"
"Back away, Duo," Heero murmured. "Don't try to stop them. They'll kill you. They're not bluffing. They mean it."
"We're going to come after you, Heero," Duo said, as the men on either side of Heero grasped him by the arms and started to drag him away. "We're going to come!"
Heero shook his head. "Don't get involved." He looked at Straub, his expression cold and blank. "I don't have to be dragged. I'll walk alone. I'll come."
Straub glanced at the others. "Let him go." The men holding Heero's arms released him. Straub looked at him. "Get in the car, 2457. Before I change my mind and finish you here like a rabid dog."
Heero pulled out of Duo's arms, turning his back on the braided pilot and walking to the black car with men on all sides of him. Duo stared after them in dumb, wordless misery.
"Heero!" Quatre shouted after him. Wufei grabbed the little Arabian's wrist, keeping him from going forward. "No, Winner. Not this time." The Chinese pilot's voice was grim.
The Wing pilot turned back for one moment. His expression was both torn and determined. "Don't let anyone forget, Duo!" he shouted. "Don't let them forget about me! Don't let them forget what we did!"
Straub came forward, grabbing Heero by the shoulder and shoving him into the backseat of the black sedan.
The men got into the black sedan and into the two black cars parked on either side of it. The cars roared to life. For a moment, Duo saw Heero's face in the sedan's rear window. The Wing pilot looked so... trapped.
And there wasn't a damned thing they could do about it.
TBC...
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