*...* denotes thought
~~~ indicates scene breaks or flashbacks
Author's note: word of warning, I'm going to be switching the third person POV a bit, to focus in on Heero a little, so pay attention.
Embrace The Night Part 4
Colony L2 AC 199
The night streets of Colony L2 were bustling with mortal activity, the noise and sounds of the humans mixed and mingles in a cacophony of sounds. The artificial atmosphere of the space colony was awash with the brimming lights of the city.
However, for the two men who were calmly walking down a nearly empty street, the chaos of the humans was only a background buzz, an annoying filler that attempted to distract their attention. The two companions arrested the attentions of the few humans their paths crossed, the few members of society who called the shadows their home and kept to themselves. The two men were uncaring, or perhaps unaware, of the uncanny and tempting portrait they made.
The two were talking quietly back and forth, engrossed within their own little world. Every now and then there would be a bark of laughter or hilarity from one of the two, breaking through the stillness of the night, unwittingly drawing the attentions of those that preyed on the unsuspecting.
~~~
Daryl Malone gave silent thanks to the powers that be as his greedy, shifting eyes fell upon the unexpected boon from heaven. The two men, who were walking towards his hiding place, looked like weaklings. He lightly cracked his knuckles in anticipation, his eyes silently measuring his new potential targets.
The blond man looked deceptively soft. Clad in a pink, but clearly expensive silk shirt, light tan trousers, and darker vest, Daryl immediately pegged him for wealth. *Damn. He must carry a' least enuf' ta pay fer me dinner,* Daryl thought, a smile starting to spread across his grimy face. His hands were practically wringing themselves together with delight at the thought of the cash and credits the shorter man must be carrying.
The blond was walking along, his strides confident with the assurance of self worth that often came with those who were privileged. Daryl himself was assured that he could take the aristocrat, if it came down to brute force, but he was expecting the blond would cower at the sight of his knife.
It was the other man that Daryl was nervously contemplating. The taller gentleman was clad entirely in black, lending him a rather sinister looking aura, especially with the encroaching shadows that were cast onto his figure. Only the rolled up sleeves of the man's jumpsuit were white, revealing the man's muscular arms. A black cap, its brim pulled down low over the man's face, fit snugly around a full head of hair that ended in a long, thick braid.
The man's hands were stuffed into the deep pockets of the wide riding pants of his outfit, his poise deceptively casual, though Daryl could tell he was carefully aware of his surroundings. He appeared to be aware of his own strength, almost eager for a physical fight, as if to release his mind from personal demons that haunted him.
Daryl palmed his carved knife handle, flicking the hidden trigger button again and again, listening to the faint, but reassuring 'shlick' of the razor sharp blade. The knife had been an 'heirloom' of sorts from his old man, given to him right before a mob hit man had gutted the sorry piece of ass right in front of a thirteen year old Daryl. Ever since then, the boy turned man had been living off of the streets and the kind 'generosity' of his donors. From years of experience, Daryl felt that he had enough skill to approach these two men, and win, and the rewards he was certain to get far outweighed the minor scuffle that was to take place.
As the two men approached, Daryl tensed his body, ready to launch his attack once they passed by his dark enclosure. A bead of sweat ran down his forehead, even as a trickle of sweet adrenaline rushed through his veins. The heady feeling granted him a false delusion of superiority and confidence.
In all of his excitement, he paid no heed to the fading warnings of his mentors.
*NEVER underestimate your potential victims.*
It was a grave mistake.
Duo and Quatre walked down the street, comfortable in their companionship. After the brief scene in the outdoor cafe, Duo had calmed down and demanded the full and detailed explanation from his blond friend.
Quatre had told him that he and Trowa had been lying low, inconspicuous and out of the public eye ever since Duo had gone to ground after Heero's passing away. They had been content to live quietly, multiplying their already immense fortune, and making forays into space under assumed names and identities. However, a few years ago, one of Quatre's financial advisors had tossed a proposal into their field of attention, catching their interest. The proposal had been from Colony L3 and Colony L4, addressed to the CEO of the Winner Corporation, which was the pseudonym that the two lovers were currently living under.
The proposal had been labeled as part of Operation Meteor, an attempt for a bid for freedom by the colonies, to break up the Earth Sphere Alliance and escape from underneath the thumb of the tyrannical OZ foundation. The proposal had revealed that while colonies L1, L2, L5, and L6 had already found financial backers for their individual Operations, as well as preliminary pilots, L3 and L4 were lagging behind. Wealthy aristocrats, who wished to oppose the OZ foundation and risk being revealed, were few and far between. As a last ditch attempt, the two floundering colonies had turned to the Winner Corporation, hoping to convince the two reticent founders to aid them in their quest; their plea for help was not entirely unfounded or flabbergasting since the Winner Corporation was known to aid the colonies in desperate times.
Quatre and Trowa hadn't really been interested in funding a meaningless war effort, or in becoming cannon fodder in the form of pilots, until their eyes caught a few interesting details in the tail sections of the proposal. The scientist from Colony L1, a mysterious Dr. J, had revealed the identity of his chosen pilot and included a picture and profile of the teenage boy. The two vampires had been shocked to see the young pilot's resemblance to a friend long thought dead. It had motivated them into action and they had contacted the rebel factions from the two colonies.
The rest was history.
Upon signing their efforts and skills to the war effort, the two men had been accepted into the program as pilots 03 and 04. Once they were deeply imbedded in the intrigue and workings of Operation Meteor, the two vampires had been able to learn the identities of some of their fellow pilots. They had learned of Duo's selection months before, and the two were overjoyed that their friend had rejoined the living, so to speak. While they had been eager to see their friend again after nearly half a century, the two had been committed to finishing up their training under Dr. S and Dr. H, and learning to pilot the Gundams Heavyarms and Sandrock.
However, now their training was complete and they were awaiting the execution of Operation Meteor.
Duo looked at the older man and said, "So, where IS Trowa anyway? I've missed that acrobatic fiend more than I thought I would."
"He'll be joining me later. Dr. H wanted to discuss some last minute alterations to Gundam Heavy Arms."
"Oh." The two friends continued walking towards Duo's apartment building, which was located in a nice section of L2. Duo had spent much of the later part of the 20th century playing in the American economic market of Earth known as the Stock Market. Having consulted one of Quatre's brilliant former brokers, now long since dead, he had amassed quite a large fortune by investing in small companies that had skyrocketed in the mid 1900's. While his fortune was nowhere near the size of Quatre's hoard, it was still enough for him to live in the lap of luxury comfortably, with no need to worry about the menial aspects of maintaining a mortal facade.
The surrounding streets that the two were walking upon were nowhere near the standards of their current living situations, but the two hunters were hungry... or rather, they were thirsty...
And wise vampires NEVER hunted in their personal domiciles.
Duo caught a flicker of movement from an alleyway the two had just passed by, his sharp vision catching the glint of lamplight off of a dull blade. Without revealing his awareness to their stalker, Duo motioned to Quatre, using his Power.
*Meal's following us,* he thought.
*So I heard. Shall we attack? Or shall we allow him to come to us?* came the amused reply.
*I feel like releasing some tension. Let's play,* answered Duo with a feral grin, his elongating fangs beginning to sharpen with the sensitivity that always accompanied feeding.
Quatre nodded once, a slight inclination of his golden head, and then fell into an easy, deceptive banter with his braided companion. They hid their awareness from the thug following them, allowing the mortal to believe that they were the prey tonight. Duo led the pair to a dark alleyway that was a dead end, pretending that he was lost.
With another nod, Quatre blurred out of sight, too fast for mortal eyes to see, blending in perfectly with the shadows. Duo remained in plain view as the thug finally turned the corner to enter the alley.
Daryl grinned with sadistic confidence, the relatively reassuring presence of his knife held tightly in the palm of his hand. His lips were turned up in a sneer as he approached the other man. A sneer that quickly turned into confusion sprinkled with apprehension.
"Hey," he gruffly bit out, a thick gutter accent marking his origins. "Where's that pretty blond ya's wuz with?"
The man in black simply crossed his arms and smirked. "Oh, he's around."
Daryl growled as a thread of fear started to snake into his mind, though he quickly suppressed it and embraced the fury at the man's condescending tone that flared up. He quickly scanned the area around him, peering into the shadows on all sides. It was the last thing he remembered doing.
He should have looked up.
Duo started in surprise as a lithe figure dropped down from the above roof, to knock the silly mugger unconscious. Daryl gave a soft grunt before he fell to the cold concrete, his knife falling out of his hand to clatter a few feet away. Duo's surprise quickly turned to amusement as he recognized the figure in front of him.
He laughingly complained, "Mou. There goes our fun for the night. You're such a party crasher, Trowa."
The brown haired acrobat turned towards the braided vampire, shrugging his slim shoulders. Wiry and tall, Trowa portrayed an inner sense of balance and animal grace. His hair was uniquely trained so that his bangs fell over half of his angled face, concealing one sharp green eye.
Running a quick examination of Trowa's attire, Duo said, "Still wearing the turtlenecks, ne?"
Trowa lifted his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug and said quietly, "Whatever works. Where's Quatre?"
Duo nodded to the shadows at his left. "Probably bemoaning the loss of dinner."
Trowa liquidly strode over and melded with the shadows, disappearing from Duo's sight, if not hearing. Silence was heard for a few tense moments, before slight giggling and a low murmur trickled from the darkness.
Duo began to playfully tap his foot on the pavement as both vampires remained hidden. Rustling sounds began to emanate from the general vicinity of his elusive friends, followed by a soft sigh of contentment.
As the green entity began to slither through Duo's mind, he called out in consternation, "OI! Will you two stop already and get out here?"
Embarrassed silence answered him back, and Duo patiently waited for his friends. He didn't begrudge them their happiness, only sad that he couldn't share in it. While his two friends could revel in their shared immortality, he and his heart's mate were separated by the gulf of mortality.
After a few moments, the two vampires reemerged into the dark alleyway, their arms casually linked around each other's waist. While their complexions and composures remained unruffled, Quatre's light blue eyes held a betraying sparkle of contentment and Trowa's normally shuttered expression had a relaxed aura.
Duo playfully shook his head, his braid swinging wildly with his movements. Stray strands of chestnut silk caressed his face as a night breeze wafted by. With amusement sparkling in his violet eyes, he said, "Are you finished?"
Quatre simply smiled at him while Trowa said blandly, "Definitely not. But there's time for that later."
The two lovers shared a quiet look that conveyed hidden promises of fulfillment before they turned their full attention once more to their braided companion. Quatre said brightly, "Shall we continue on to your apartment?"
Duo sharply searched Quatre's earnest gaze, looking for any hidden agendas in the blue depths, before nodding once. He turned around to lead the trio out of the alleyway, stepping lightly over the prone body of the two - bit thug. None of the immortals gave a second thought about the man they left sprawled on the hard, grimy concrete as they stepped over his body and continued on their way.
After all, he was a petty thief, and they HAD left him with his life.
~~~
Duo's Apartment (Heero's 3rd person POV)
Heero Yuy, pilot 01 of Gundam Wing, looked around the rather lavish apartment, unsure of what to do for the first time in his short life. Dr. J, the only other human in which he had any prolonged contact with, had given him curt instructions to await further orders regarding the launching of Operation Meteor. Then he and that mushroom headed scientist had left the apartment, leaving him alone with his new partner. Not long after, the braided pilot had also left, mumbling something about going out for a drink.
Heero had been aware of the strained silence between him and the other man, although the reason for it was lost to the cobalt eyes pilot. After all, hadn't the other man realized that he was getting a partner?
Heero had known for quite awhile, Dr. J having given him the profiles on the other pilots to better equip himself when he finally met them all. The pictures from each profile had been blurred and grainy, as if the subjects of the said pictures had deliberately sabotaged the camera. Heero hadn't been able to tell much from the photos other than the blatant physical features, such as the sex of the pilots, all of whom were male he now knew, and the basic hair color of each.
When he had sufficiently memorized all the pertinent details of each pilot, Dr. J had announced to him that they were leaving for Colony L2 to rendezvous with his new partner. At first, Heero had been apprehensive, although he would never allow his emotions to show on his face. He had learned the hard way from Dr. J's, disciplining, to never allow any weaknesses to show.
And Dr. J considered emotions the number one human weakness. He believed that human capacity was comprised of four basic elements; reason, intellect, experience, and emotion. The first three were excellent, gave humans the ability to surpass all other species of life, but the last he considered illogical and counter productive, a nuisance. That belief had been at the root of Heero's training.
Heero carefully sat down on the soft, but comfortable sofa, perched tentatively on the edge. As he stared about the silent apartment with wandering eyes, his thoughts turned inwards on his life.
Dr. J had been the only thing constant in his ever changing world, the only variable that hadn't altered or disappeared. The scientist had taken young Heero in when he was barely two, after his parents had abandoned him in the barrens of Colony L1. Or so he had been told. Recent actions of the scientist had caused Heero to start wondering about the validity of what Dr. J told him, and his doubt had started to spread to the very beginning.
Dr. J had raised the child with harsh words, stern discipline, and no love. Heero had quickly learned to suppress each and every urge to feel anything besides the desire to complete a mission. Everything had been going smoothly, until Heero turned sixteen.
Then the nightmares had started.
There was no rhyme or reason to his nightmares, other than the fact that the sparse images inspired unknown terror to spread through his entire being.
Unknown terror, followed quickly by a sense of loss... or sorrow... and then completed by a warm glow that intoxicated his entire soul, leaving it yearning for more, only to feel bereft when Heero woke up to the harsh reality that was his world. Floods of unnamed and foreign emotions would pour through his being, subjecting him to strange feelings that he had never been allowed to accept before. No matter how good Dr. J's training had been, human emotions weren't that easy to destroy.
Heero never told Dr. J about his dreams; he figured they would just be another excuse to subject him to the latest in a string of horrible experiments concerning sensory deprivation, mind control, and emotional cleansing, none of which Heero had any desire to undergo again. He would do anything to avoid the nasty repercussions that Dr. J would issue. So he kept silent, and let his nightmares remain a private affair, hoping they would go away with time.
Instead, the nightmares had begun to intensify, rather than fade, the images becoming sharper and growing in detail. He had hoped to be able to shake them off, but that dream was proving to be feeble. Now he just wished they'd hurry up and conclude, and then hopefully leave him be, freeing up his sleep.
Heero dragged his consciousness from his inner thoughts and mused on his current situation. He was faced now with one thing he had been dreading the most. He had to successfully interact with another human being, worse, one who was his own age.
His thoughts turned onto the very source of his present consternation, the violet eyed, braid toting pilot 02. He had finally turned to face the pilot and had come face to face with a pair of amethyst eyes that had peered into his with some hidden agenda. Heero almost could have sworn that there had been hope lurking in the uncanny depths... hope mingled with despair? And fear???
*Why would he have hope in his eyes, and fear no less?* The braided pilot was a conundrum to Heero; not just the fact that he was the first real social contact he had encountered, but that there was such puzzlement in their first official meeting. And then he had asked Heero that question.
~~~
"D - do you... know me?"
~~~
Whatever questions Heero had expected and prepared himself for, that had knocked the 'Perfect Soldier' off his rocker. He was puzzled at the question, not understanding what kind of answer the other pilot was aiming for. So, he had answered truthfully.
~~~
"Yes. You are pilot 02, Duo Maxwell, protégé of Professor G and pilot of Gundam Deathscythe."
~~~
He had rattled off the basic profile information in perfect sequence, maintaining his deadpanned expression that Dr. J had spent so much time teaching him. A poker face, the scientist had once called it. Heero knew that poker was some sort of card game, often associated with monetary gains and losses, but he had never had first hand experience at it.
Games, unless they had military or fighting connotations, were not high on Dr. J's personal list of training requirements.
He had broken off his information, awaiting the other pilot's next reactions. However, he was not prepared for what he received.
The other pilot had visibly deflated. Heero was still puzzled over his reaction now, several hours later. The pilot's strong, but slim shoulders had briefly sagged, his entire being radiated disappointment and shock. Some hidden spark in his eyes had been snuffed out, and Heero had had to fight the strange urge to comfort the man, to erase the hurt and pain and replace it with...
With what???
Heero shook his head roughly, desperately trying to derail his thoughts off track. He didn't want to analyze his strange gut reaction to his new partner, he didn't want to start becoming attached to something, again. Last time it had happened, Dr. J's punishment had been effective and brutal.
Heero sighed as he felt the tension of the past few days and sleepless nights catch up with him and decided to retire early. It didn't appear that his new companion was returning any time soon, and Operation Meteor was scheduled to engage on a moment's notice. Without a second hesitation, Heero got up from the sofa and made his way to the second bedroom in the apartment.
~~~
Heero had barely drifted off when the nightmares resumed. His head started tossing back and forth on his pillow which was quickly becoming saturated with the sweat that rolled off his head. His active body had tossed the restraining cotton sheet, discarding it on the floor. His dark bangs were plastered to his forehead, while his eyes moved rapidly underneath his closed eyelids. Heero's low moans of distress and whimpers of terror filled the dark, empty apartment, rivaling against the low, impersonal hum of his laptop computer that was open on the desk, ready to receive any mission orders and relay them back to its owner.
~~~
A low, husky voice, murmured words of comfort and compassion into his ear, placating his need for friendship and granting the knowledge that he was wanted by someone.
Dark, hungry eyes filled his vision, the ebony depths burning with a hunger akin to that of a predator. Red lips parted sinisterly to reveal previously concealed teeth of unimaginable sharpness.
A tearing, rendering sensation at his throat, followed quickly by lips and a tongue lapping at the river of blood that flowed from his veins, his life ebbing away in a sea of sensations. Helplessness, the futility of a struggle, a sense of impending doom filled his soul.
Terrible screaming, unearthly howls that promised pain and torture, only to be tersely silenced.
~~~
Heero's body calmed itself, his harsh breathing began to even out as new sensations began to invade his body, sensations that were familiar yet foreign at the same time. The unpleasant fear and apprehension of the previous dreams gave way to more scintillating pleasure.
~~~
Warm, tender arms embraced him, wrapping him in a cloud of euphoria and safety. Firm lips nuzzled in his hair, planting tiny, moist kisses down the side of his face and neck.
Soft, husky laughter filled his ears, promises of exquisite retribution in a most satisfying way hidden in the light depths. Hair as soft as satin flowed over his bare body, as lips marked his body as claimed. Something hard and hot moved with firm yet velvety strokes inside him, granting him a completeness never before known.
Violet eyes, filled with tender love and fierce devotion stared down into his, filling his world, trapping his heart for all time in the mutual bonds of...
~~~
Heero bolted awake, his breathing harsh and ragged, strange sensations crawling up and down his skin. He shuddered as the sensations started to ebb away, leaving him feeling strangely bereft and wanting to howl at the unfairness. He clutched his upper arms in his hands, holding his arms close to his body. He curled his legs up underneath him, until he was kneeling on the soft mattress of the bed.
His thoughts started to automatically sort through this newest set of nightmares, trying to find a place for them in his seemingly chaotic dream world, and utterly failing. With a grunt, Heero pushed himself off of the bed and proceeded to the small adjoining bathroom on shaky limbs.
Once inside, he turned on the cold water faucet, filling the small porcelain basin with the cool, refreshing liquid. He leaned over and splashed his overheated face, attempting to wrestle a bit of control back into his rebelling body.
As he leaned over the sink, droplets of water falling from his face to the pool below, he clenched his eyes tightly as he relived the last scene from his dreams.
*Violet eyes?* he thought, as something akin to familiarity and foreign longing entered his heart. *Why am I dreaming of violet eyes, now of all times? What the hell is happening to me?!*
With a ruthlessness that had long been a part of his training, Heero suppressed the rising tide of emotions, although he did so with notably more difficulty than before, and let the water drain from the basin. He then reentered his bedroom, turning not to the large, queen sized bed, but rather to the small laptop that lay in the center of the mahogany desk.
Knowing that he wouldn't get back to sleep anytime soon, already dreading yet reluctantly anticipating the next time the dreams would return, Heero clicked on his computer and bypassed the several encryption codes that turned off the screen saver. As the PC booted up to the home screen, he noticed the closed envelope at the right hand corner of the screen dictating the arrival of new email.
With a renewed sense of purpose and relief, he clicked on the envelope and launched into his new mission details, steadfastly ignoring the small voice in his mind that warned he wouldn't be able to continue to neglect this growing part of himself for much longer.
~~~
Duo's Apartment (Duo's third person POV)
Duo opened up the door to his apartment and quickly stowed the card key away. He closed the door behind him and then leaned his tired body against the dark wood paneling. His eyes closed, he allowed himself to succumb to the soul fatigue that he felt. With a sigh that was reminiscent of his mortal years, he pushed away from the door and made his way to his couch.
He was alone in coming back to his apartment, his two friends had been waylaid by a sudden summons from their respective mentors. It seemed that Operation Meteor was due to be launched any minute. With an apologetic glance, Quatre and Trowa had taken off into the night, to return to wherever their Gundams had been hidden, leaving the reticent vampire to return alone to his loft, and to the taciturn pilot that dwelled within it.
A faint, nearly undetectable noise drew Duo's attention to the hallway that led to the bedrooms. His eyes snapped open quickly and turned to the source of the sound, his mind immediately wishing he hadn't.
Heero stood in the hallway, clad in his green tank top and tight, black spandex shorts. His hair was unruly and messy, giving him a delightful rumpled air, but his eyes were cold and narrowed.
Even with the unfeeling coldness that emanated from his fellow pilot, the physical manifestation in front of him still had the power to set liquid fire to Duo's veins. He fought the urge to jump up from the sofa and forcibly approach his quiet partner, to delve into the depths of his mind and determine for himself who this Heero was... if he was who Duo hoped he was... or if he was what Duo dreaded he might be...
"You're back," came the quiet, if not clearly obvious, statement.
Duo closed his eyes and leaned his head on the sofa's back tiredly. "Yeah, yeah," he quipped, determined to hide his burning yearning underneath sarcasm. "Sorry I didn't check in, MOM, but I was having fun with some friends of mine."
"Hn," was the only reply that Heero allowed himself to make. He walked further into the living room, his light treads making almost no discernible sounds on the carpet. At least, no sounds that a mere mortal would be able to detect.
Heero walked over to where Duo lay sprawled across the couch, stopping only when he got within a few feet of the braided pilot. He stood there quietly, not moving until Duo finally opened one violet eye to glare balefully up at him, challenging him to make a comment.
Heero snorted under his breath and then said, "We have our first mission."
That got Duo moving, anything to keep his body busy and away from the tempting morsel in front of him. He jumped to his feet quickly, nearly startling Heero, who had to backpedal a few steps away to avoid being bowled over.
He glared at the taller man, before he said, "Dr. J and Professor G have given our first assignment. We are to proceed to Earth and protect an important dignitary there. A well defined pacifist who claims that peace between Earth and the Colonies is the only way for humanity to survive. It seems she is very important to our financial backers."
Duo turned to the dark haired man and raised one eyebrow. "Oh? And did our illustrious scientists give us a location for this pacifist? Or are we supposed to hunt him down?"
Heero's expression never changed, his stoicism and training holding fast. He answered in his slightly nasal voice, "She is the Queen of the Sank Kingdom. That's where we are to meet her. We leave in two hours."
Heero turned around to head back to his temporary bedroom, completely missing the look of dawning horror on Duo's face. But he did happen to catch Duo's faint whisper of dismay, although he did not choose to comment on it.
Duo could feel the bottom of his world fall out again, twice in the same day. After cowardly fleeing from the very place that held so many happy yet painful memories for him, he was now being forced to return. Duo once again fell down onto the couch, his head in his hands. He quietly groaned.
"Not the Sank Kingdom."
Heero turned his head to look over his shoulder at the other man. He did not understand nor attempt to question why the other pilot was so obviously distressed at their first mission. He called over his shoulder, even as he retreated into his bedroom to gather his few, scant personal belongings.
"Her name is Queen Relena Peacecraft."
Duo's head snapped up at that statement, his eyes going wide at the name.
Relena... it couldn't be...
TBC...
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