Author: Karen, The Huntress

Rating: R

Warning: angst, language, realization, Heero's POV

Pairing: 1+2

Feedback: Always appreciated

Archive: DHML

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or its characters.

The Domino Affect

My name is Heero Yuy.

I take pride in my skill as a warrior, my proficiency in stratagem and my mastery of the Zero System. I dictate the terms of every situation and am always in control, especially of my emotions.

Hell, for my prowess as a Gundam pilot I was dubbed the "Perfect Soldier".

But, regrettably, while I was busy being an arrogant ass I didn't realize that pride goes before a fall.

I'm not referring to an intuitive mistake, a rare lapse in concentration or a thorough trouncing in battle. It wasn't Romefeller or OZ that orchestrated my lesson in humility but the cocksure God of Death, Duo Maxwell.

*********

Duo and I had infiltrated an industrial complex which mass-produced energy cells for Mobile Dolls.

While I hacked the main computer to glean any relevant data that could aid the rebel cause, Duo scurried around arranging explosive charges intended to take out the assembly line control system without razing the entire building.

Computer picked clean then infested with a crippling virus, Duo and I set a straightway path to the nearest exit. Almost to the side door disembodied voices halted our otherwise unimpeded escape.

A few steps ahead, Duo flattened against the wall adjacent to an intersecting hallway, glanced over his shoulder then flashed a grin to put me on notice he was about to do something risky.

Before I could register a protest, 02 tucked his pistol against his back and sauntered into view. Voices faded away, no doubt, spurred by the unexpected appearance of a phantom figure dressed in black.

However the silence was short-lived as the unmistakable snap of multiple weapons being cocked echoed along the stark white corridor.

"Halt." was ordered menacingly.

Swearing under my breath, I edged forward. Cautiously peering around the corner I confirmed two men in UESA uniforms leveling SR42s at Duo's chest.

"Hey, no need for those." Duo nodded at the large caliber assault rifles. "I don't want no trouble." he lied, raising his hands in mock surrender.

The lanky guard with shaggy auburn hair narrowed hazel eyes to study the lone unarmed interloper. After a contemplative moment he stated. "You're a cheeky bastard."

"I'm betting on just plain stupid." the second, heavy set sentry commented to his counterpart.

Feigning a nonchalant attitude meant to create a higher degree of confusion, Duo declared. "Damn! There ya go flinging insults for no good reason."

Tilting his body at an enticing angle he baited the hook. "Why don't we try to get along? Let's find some privacy and I'll give ya both blow jobs that'll leave ya beggin' for more?"

Seemingly not swayed by the hormonal teenager's licentious proposition, the burlier guard presented a counter proposal. "Why don't I blast you, chuck your corpse in the incinerator and save writing up a report?"

With a level of bravado meant to impress, Duo licked his lips in a most wicked manner. "I promise you won't be disappointed."

The guard wishing to avoid tedious paperwork was apparently tempted to reconsider. "What do you think?" he inquired to his partner.

By now I'd inched close enough to smell cigarette smoke reeking on the redhead's clothes and to see twin rows of tobacco-stained teeth bared by an anticipatory grin. "Okay," he agreed, then added a terminable specification "but if you don't please us you're a dead man."

"Fair enough." Duo accepted the possibly lethal terms. "Lead the way."

The UESA pair hadn't moved a meter before Duo drew his pistol and wolf whistled to gain the goons' attention.

"What the hell?" the redhead demanded an explanation.

Staring wide-eyed at the targeted handgun, the stocky guard in favor Duo's immediate execution hissed like a deflating tire.

"Now we play by my rules." Duo announced in a no-nonsense tone to confirm he was in charge.

Whether the redhead's infuriation at being duped prompted a lapse of reason or he believed his reflexes were superior or he was merely daft, he opted for a challenge. In a blur of motion the rifle flew up and the barrel's black hole poised to fire its deadly projectile.

In the same minute time span I sprang from the shadows. A swift snap kick dislodged the rifle and sent it skittering across the floor. Next a roundhouse kick to the redhead's diaphragm forcibly expelled the air and, with a gasp then a grunt, he collapsed into a boneless heap.

Of course Duo had no intensions of allowing me total intervention. An uppercut smashing into the remaining guard's chin pre-empted any attempt to shoot and toppled him over like a felled tree.

*********

Fifteen minutes later:

Standing side by side on a rocky ridge overlooking the complex, Duo flipped the detonator's activation switch. A conclusive push of the red button rippled shockwaves through the sandy soil, hurled dust and debris in all directions and efficiently disintegrated the section housing central control.

Noticing my less than enthusiastic response to the resulting devastation, Duo wondered aloud. "What put a kink in your ass?"

The smug query was the proverbial "last straw".

"Insolent, reckless, irresponsible---" I yelled, the words surging so fast they ran together. "Your asinine juvenile behavior put the mission in danger of failure." I concluded with a hard puff of exasperation.

As smoky currents funneled up the hillside to rankle my nose, sting my eyes and shorten the fuse on my temper Duo thoughtfully pondered the scathing rebuke.

After brief consideration and with his typical "don't sweat it" shrug, Duo proclaimed. "Shit Heero, ya really need to relax. Quit worryin' about every damned mission. We've never failed and we ain't gonna."

At what I perceived as dismissive remarks, the fuse burned down to ignite my ire. "Son of a bitch." was all I could growl before the inner rage erupted and all hell broke loose.

I should have remembered that anger impedes your ability to think; that adrenaline-fueled actions are undisciplined but, too incensed to care, I charged headlong at Duo.

Predictably 02 stood his ground.

Sent off course by compromised focus, my initial punch was sidestepped with ease but Duo made no attempt to retaliate.

This refusal to engage in battle infuriated me further so, accompanied by a barrage of curses, I launched a flurry of strikes and kicks.

Duo ducked, eluded attacks, threw up blocks---even withdrew when retreat was the prudent choice.

A few glancing blows did hit their target to bruise a cheekbone or leach blood from lips.

Yet all the while Duo kept repeating. "I won't fight you I won't fight you."

Unlike Wing Zero, the Gundanium armored warrior that regenerates its energy levels, my stamina was not as self-sustaining. But despite waning endurance, heart hammering and smoke-laced breaths seizing in my lungs I fought on with dogged determination.

I suppose the God of Death also has his tolerable limits; that neither his willingness to be pummeled is infinite nor his patience inexhaustible.

One more "HEERO STOP!" was exclaimed.

When I didn't heed the final warning, Duo centered his weight, lowered his shoulder and plowed into my hips effectively knocking me off balance.

His arms wrapped around my waist, Duo and I pitched over and landed hard, pluming up clouds of dust in our wake.

Arms and legs tangled I continued to wage war, however, with Duo sprawled on top, my furious campaign eroded into a skirmish more akin to a drunken barroom brawl than actual combat.

"Calm down. Come on you gotta stop." Duo urged an end to the fight.

Then in a somber tone heavy with hurt he whispered. "I'm sorry."

Suddenly those two simply words shattered my resolve.

In a single heartbeat the rage vanished.

Lying on my back, I stared into Duo's flushed face, streaked with sweat and blood. While wind-whipped smoke swirled about us, I searched his haunting violet eyes for any measure of empathy; any sign he understood the outburst that shouldn't have happened.

After all I am the Perfect Soldier.

Always rational.

Always correct.

Always in control.

Like a fool too proud to light a candle so he doesn't stumble in the darkness, I groped for one secure handhold, anything or anyone to blame.

Odin Lowe.

Doctor J.

OZ.

My lips parted.

One clarifying word struggled pass the lump clogging my throat.

"MYSELF." surfaced with a sigh.

Duo smiled, not one of his wily grins, but a genuine smile as if he'd just put a flame to the candlewick.

"Curse the destruction, mourn the dead and rail against injustice." he advised as he lowered his head. "Remember we didn't start this senseless war but together we sure as hell are goin' to finish it."

And with that astute pronouncement Duo used a chaste kiss to seal his promise of our solidarity.

Like the first emotional domino succumbing to gravity, each successive domino toppled over.

Guilt.

Remorse.

Helplessness.

Fury enkindled by my stolen childhood.

Fear of failure-fear of losing Duo.

The last domino fell.

Not embarrassed by the tears welling in my bloodshot eyes, I embraced Duo. As I surrendered all the pain and allow my grief free rein, I clung unashamedly to my saving grace.

In that clarifying moment of deliverance Duo's kiss evoked I accepted my limitations.

It's alright not to be perfect because Duo loves me just as I am--flaws and all.

OWARI

 

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