Note: By the way, I will be working on Requiem again, but I decided that since I entered the Works-In-Progress contest with both Bound and Sacrifice, I needed to get a few chapters of both under my belt before switching back to The-Neverending-OMG-Not-Another-War-Fic.

"Lost from my fear
pursuing the end
I fight for the chance
to be lied to again."

      --- Evanescence, Lies

Sacrifice Part 12
Lies

A silver, switchblade glimmer in the dark.

Trowa didn't flinch under Duo's knife, remaining perfectly still, poised over his friend, his hand still light on Duo's shoulder. He gave Duo a moment to wake up and realize where he was. He only exhaled when Duo sat up, pulling the blade away from his carotid artery. Duo folded the knife closed, pocketing it carefully.

"What is it?" Duo whispered in the dark. He was aware of Wufei sleeping in the next bunk over, tried not to wake him, but as soon as he spoke out loud, he could almost feel Wufei tense, alert the moment he was awake. He couldn't see well enough yet-his night vision wasn't up-but he could almost imagine Wufei's onyx eyes shooting open in the darkness, searching for their voices. The Chinese man sat up, looking at the both of them.

"What is it, Barton?"

They had been staying at Preventers HQ for a day and a night. In that time, Heero hadn't gained consciousness. Not even once. The four of them took turns guarding him. It was Trowa's shift.

"He's awake. Po's already down there." There was something careful in Trowa's voice, Duo realized as he swung his legs over the side of the bunk where he had slept. The taller pilot moved away from him, allowing him room to move. His heart thudded in his chest.

Heero was conscious. But was he Heero?

As soon as he was standing, Trowa moved in front of him, catlike in the darkness, even with his injured arm bound in a sling across his chest. It was a subtle gesture, a weight shift of the hips, but it was very real. Trowa was blocking his path.

"I'm not sure you should see him, Duo."

Duo looked at his friend sharply. Trowa's face was completely blank, impassive. Duo recognized that expression. It was Trowa's battle-face. He didn't give away anything, but he saw. Trowa saw everything. Well, he wasn't rightabout everything, that was for sure. He wasn't right about this.

"I'm gonna see him, Trowa. Move."

Trowa nodded in the darkness, stepping off to one side. Duo swept past him wordlessly.

As soon as he was gone, Wufei moved to the edge of the bed, looking up at the still, towering form of Trowa in the darkness. "Quatre is down there too," he said. A statement, not a question. He stood, moving for the door. Trowa followed him.

"Yes," Trowa answered. "I wanted Quatre to feel him."

There was no explanation needed.

They followed Duo.

~*~

Sally stopped a few yards down the hall from the cell where Heero was being kept, a temporary holding room for Section 8s. There was probably some fancy, politically correct term for what they were called, Duo thought, but cells are what they were. No amount of fancy words could change padded walls and restraints.

I promised they'd never hurt you again.

They stood in front of the room where six of the twelve Potentials were being held. It was the older set, the ones who were ten and above. Duo looked into the room, pretending he wasn't hearing the words Sally said. All of the soldiers in the cell were restrained (for cautionary measures, Sally had told him, softly), and even though it was the small hours of the morning, they were all awake. In the muted fluorescent lighting of the room, all six heads were turned in the direction of the cell next to theirs.

But I couldn't help you. I lied... and I'm damned.

As if they could hear every movement Heero made.

Please come back to me.

Meanwhile, Sally talked. Duo heard her, but her words washed over him, as if they were being spoken in another language.

Heero...

"Duo, I know how you feel, but he's... well, he's not the soldier you knew." Sally's face was solemn. Sympathetic. Duo turned back to her, stared at her expression blindly. He thought maybe if he read her lips, her words would sink in. But he was completely numb; he could barely sense the others on either side of him, as if they could help to hold him up. Quatre's hand was on his shoulder, comforting, but he didn't feel it.

"He's changed, Duo. It would be like trying to talk to a stranger. That's why I don't want you to go in. You have to understand... I'll pull rank if I have to." Sally's hands trembled. She clasped them together to hide it, but not before the others saw. Duo knew she was lying.

He's Heero. Heero! Goddammit, that's my partner!

"I'm going in, Po." His words were cold. He met her gaze, dark indigo eyes steady. "I owe him at least that much. And you're not going to pull rank on me. You're not going to stop me." The fluorescent panel over their heads flickered, shadowing him like lightning. He didn't notice, and didn't care. He was too powerfully in the grip of the feeling that had swallowed him ever since he had held Heero's seemingly lifeless body in his arms.

This was his partner, his friend. He would die for Heero, would take a bullet for him a thousand times over. And if he had to die at the Heero's hands, so be it. It was the least he deserved for abandoning him. At least, that was how he saw it.

"Do you want me to go in with you?" Wufei asked. Quietly.

Duo shook his head.

"Unlock the door, Po."

She stood in front of it, hesitating, until Zechs touched her shoulder. It was a brief touch, but it spoke volumes. His unspoken words almost reverberated in the darkness. Let him. As they wish. He belongs to them, let them go to him.

Duo went into the room. It was dark. The lighting had been dimmed until it was almost nonexistent, and the only true light in the room came from the doorway. All he could make out was a motionless form in the corner. Slowly, as his eyes adjusted, he could see that Heero was kneeling on one knee; the other was drawn to his chest, and his hands were outspread on the floor to either side of him. The soldier's head was bowed, and his bangs in his face hid his eyes. Still, Duo could feel Heero watching him.

He remembered a book he had once read in one of their classes, when they were hiding in a boarding school. Nietzsche. It was a hell of a time to remember something like that, but the words made chills run over his skin, just the same.

Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And when you look into the abyss, the abyss also looks into you.

"Heero?" His own voice sounded scratchy, weak, as if he had been screaming. He hated it. "... Heero?"

No answer. He took a step forward, and the presence in the darkest corner of the room shifted, preparing for violence, should violence be necessary.

Duo walked forward a few more small steps, feeling tension build in the crouched figure. "Heero, it's me? Duo, remember? May run and hide, but I never tell a lie?" He laughed softly, and the sound was shattered in the darkness.

You did fucking lie. You said you'd save him, and you let him fall. How's he supposed to know you now?

Suddenly, 2457 moved forward, and the light from the doorway caught his face, and 2457 (Heero, it's Heero!) jerked his head slightly, flicking the hair out of his face. It was an efficient, almost animal movement. A scar Duo had been too busy to notice before ran jaggedly from the center of the soldier's hairline to the corner of his eye, trailing off down his cheekbone. His blue eyes were deep, but as blank as a classroom in July.

Empty. As empty as the eyes of the others. There was nothing in those eyes.

Heero Yuy was gone.

No!

Disbelief filled him, buried everything else. This was Heero, the guy he had roomed across from when they were pretending to be normal, everyday students. They had eaten silently across from each other in nameless cafeterias, ran together in the mornings, pretending they were going out for track or some meaningless shit like that, when they were really training, staying in shape for much bloodier work.

So much pretending.

He could see Heero's mouth moving silently in the dim. Repeating something. It took Duo a few moments, but he read Heero's lips after a few moments. The realization of what Heero was saying stunned him.

I have no life. I have no death. I have no life. I have no death.

The samurai warrior's prayer. Duo could imagine them beating it into him-or maybe using electric shocks, sick motherfuckers like them were always fond of shit like that-until it was the only thing he knew. The only thing any of them knew.

"Heero, Heero..." he moved forward, not caring that he could feel the rise of the violence in the room like a blast of heat, not caring that Heero was slowly standing up. Not even knowing what he planned on doing, once he got close enough to touch the soldier crouched on the floor. All he knew was that he couldn't just stand there. He couldn't just stand there and see Heero like this.

"Heero, please..."

He's in there somewhere... like a guy caught in a cave-in... or a bombed building. He's not gone, he's still there! He's alive! I know it!

And then 2457 moved. Before he could even think to defend himself or retaliate in any way, Duo found himself against the padded wall, his feet hanging a foot from the ground. Heero hadn't been restrained. Not again. Duo had made sure of that much before he would even leave Heero again. But it worked against him now.

Fingers squeezed his larynx, threatened to crush it like a grape. Duo choked and retched helplessly, his hands scrabbling at Heero's wrists, trying to pull them away, but they were as immovable as steel. Heero's right hand was clamped around his throat, his thumb buried deep in the soft flesh beneath Duo's jaw. The other hand was on Duo's cheek, feather-light, almost a caress.

Those blue eyes were looking up at him speculatively. There wasn't madness there. That had been the least Duo expected. But there wasn't humanity, either.

I'm looking at the perfect sociopath, Duo thought, even as black spots began to swim across his vision. Jesus fucking Christ.

"2457! Cease and desist!!" Over Heero's shoulder, Duo could see Wufei. The Chinese man had a pistol in his hands, aimed at the back of Heero's head. His eyes were wild. "Drop him!"

He felt himself fall to the floor in a heap as Heero dropped him, felt the vibration next to him as Heero fell as well. Wufei had hit him with the butt of the pistol, hard enough to kill an ordinary man. Blood flecked the floor. After only less than an hour of consciousness, Heero was out cold again.

The others crouched over him, but they were just shapes. He couldn't pick out their faces.

Don't shoot him, Duo said, Please don't shoot him.

He didn't realize he hadn't been speaking out loud until right before he passed out.

TBC...

 

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