Fire in the Hole Part 2
At the sink, Quatre gave a sharp cry, clutching at his chest. His knees buckled and he collapsed on the floor.
"Quatre!" cried Trowa, grabbing his shoulders. "Quatre, what's wrong!"
"Oh.... Duo... Oh, my god...." He whimpered, hugging himself, trying to catch his breath. "Something's happened.... To Duo...."
~*~
Heero found the door ajar; that wasn't like Duo. He stepped inside, Duo's name on his lips, and his eyes fell on the body crumpled on the floor, the pool of dark blood growing even as he stared.
"Shit...." he breathed. He knelt, searching for a pulse, turning Duo onto his back to find the entry wound, blood still oozing. "Duo...." The gun fell from his lax fingers. "Duo.... No...."
~*~
Quatre dodged the emergency personnel, pushing his way into the room, Trowa only steps behind. He stopped, stricken at the amount of blood, at Duo being lifted onto a gurney, at the gun held loosely in Heero's hand, at Heero's ashen face and unreadable eyes.
"Heero.... What happened?" he begged.
Heero looked up slowly, reluctant to take his eyes off Duo. "I don't know.... We argued; I walked out. In the lift, I couldn't.... I couldn't stand it; I went back. I found him...."
"Oh.... No...." Quatre burst into tears. Trowa gathered him in, watching Heero with a chill of wariness.
Heero. Cold, distant, dispassionate. Trained and drilled from early childhood to be the perfect soldier, to remove or overcome any and all obstacles to the success of his missions. He wasted nothing on affection or attention for anyone or anything outside of Wing Zero. How far would such a man go to rid himself of the annoyingly sensual and vivacious overtures of gleeful Duo? ::And how can I even think such a thing?:: he chided himself. ::How can I distrust my partner this way?:: But Trowa already knew the answer to that.
The station police came and questioned the three pilots and went away, taking the gun with them for tests. Through it all Heero maintained his bleak control. Quatre wept and tried to explain his connection to Duo and the others, his ability to feel it when something happened to them. The police weren't given to imagination; they nodded and made notes and rolled their eyes at each other. Trowa could only confirm Quatre's facts.
When they were alone, Trowa turned to Heero.
"He may not make it through surgery," he growled, and was surprised at how raw his voice sounded. He liked Duo quite a lot and enjoyed his over-the-top antics.
"I know."
"You know; do you care?"
Heero stared through him. "That is none of your business."
"It is if you shot him."
"Trowa!" Quatre gasped. "No! Heero wouldn't!"
Not looking at him, Heero said in a low voice, "How do you know, Quatre? How do you know what I'm capable of?"
Quatre opened his mouth, then closed it again, hugging himself.
"Is that what you think, Trowa? That I tried to kill Duo?" Trowa stared back warily. "Let me remind you, Trowa; when I intend to kill someone, they die. I don't shoot to wound." He turned away. "I'll be in the infirmary."
~*~
Quatre dozed in a chair. Trowa gazed out the window, glancing occasionally at Heero, now lying on a sofa, eyes closed, but not asleep. They could only wait on the surgeons.
"He didn't shoot himself," came a voice from the doorway.
All three came to attention as Wufei strode into the room.
"The gun has his prints on it, but it's obvious they were put there after." He nodded to Heero. "Yours are overlaid where you picked it up. It's attempted murder." His eyes stayed on Heero. "Just how angry were you?"
"Not enough to wound him." He stared back at Wufei.
Quatre stood up. "Stop this! Just stop it! Heero didn't shoot Duo! He wouldn't do it!"
"How do you know?" snapped Wufei. "Were you there?"
"Yes!" cried Quatre. "As I am always with each of you! Yes, even you, Wufei! And he wouldn't try to kill you either!" He wiped at his eyes. "Why are we accusing Heero? Why can't you believe him? He's not lying! Someone tried to kill one of us! Are they going to try again?"
Wufei made as if to answer but Quatre cut him off sharply.
"Are we all at risk, or was Duo the only target? We can't leave him defenseless; what if whoever did this tries again?"
Heero's chin came up as his eyes narrowed. He spun on his heel and vanished out the door.
Trowa started to follow, but Quatre caught his arm. "Let him go; he's afraid." He turned again to Wufei. "He loves Duo." Wufei snorted derisively. "He does! Oh, you're both so heart-blind!" he cried in frustration.
Wufei looked past Quatre to Trowa with a raised eyebrow. Trowa shrugged. "I don't know how, I just know he's usually right."
Wufei threw up his hands in irritation. "I asked for protection around Duo, he'll be safe. But you're right about the rest of us, Quatre. I'm going to continue researching." He turned to leave, but paused. "Um, stay together, will you? It's probably safer."
~*~
Shades closed, lights down, the room felt eerily like a crypt. Heero glanced at the bed where Duo lay still as death, entombed by wires, tubes and monitors.
Tombs.... Death.... Darkness....
What am I thinking? Heero wondered with a shake of his head. He's not going to die!
He approached the bed. The security officer also rose. "Sir?" he inquired politely.
Wufei's doing, he reminded himself, damping his anger. It's for Duo's safety.
"I want to sit by him."
"Sir, my orders --"
"I'm not armed. If you want to search me, go ahead, but I'm sitting by him!" He spread his arms and legs and the guard patted him down. "Happy now?" he muttered, and pulled a chair next to the bed.
The guard returned silently to his post.
Duo's chest rose and fell slowly with mechanically measured breathing. The chill of thwarted death hung round him and he seemed hardly more than a child. Gone the sass and sparkle, the irritating (but so damnably appealing!) laughter. Heero looked away, frowning.
He touched Duo's loose auburn hair lightly. "Just keep on fighting," he murmured softly.
~*~
Quatre came hours later, bringing tea and dinner.
"How is he?" he whispered, settling the tray on the table.
"The same." Heero sat back stretching widely. "Where have you been?"
Quatre looked away shyly. "I thought you would prefer to be alone with him."
"Not necessary." He jerked his head toward the ever-alert guard.
Quatre's eyes said that he was sorry; aloud he murmured, "Trowa and Wufei are going over the videos, looking for anything the police might have missed. I'm sorry, Heero."
"For what?" he said absently. He browsed the covered dishes finding lemon chicken, rice, a pomegranate and fruit topped cheesecake.
"For Trowa and Wufei earlier. They just don't understand."
Heero shrugged. "Maybe they understand better than you do."
"Heero...."
"It was my gun, Quatre. Someone used my gun to try to kill Duo." He forked a piece of chicken. Perfect.... Duo loved lemon chicken...
Quatre made a faint sound and Heero looked at him. "But... but I know you didn't do it!"
"I didn't," he agreed in his flat voice. "What restaurant is this from?" When Duo was better, he would take him out to dinner.
"I made it," he whispered, staring at his friend. Heero was making small talk. Heero never made conversation. Heero barely spoke at all.
"Really. It's delicious; you're a good cook. Thank you."
Quatre shook himself, pushing aside the oddity of his comrade's behavior. "Heero! Why are you so calm? Someone is trying to frame you for attempted murder!"
"Yes. It isn't succeeding, though, so I'm not concerned." He looked up at the sweet-faced blond. "Quatre, I don't waste my time on unimportant things."
"Unimportant.... Like Duo?" he wondered faintly, unable to believe that Heero could be so cold-hearted.
But Heero's cobalt eyes flashed a warning. "No!" He glared at Quatre for a moment, then returned to his food.
After a few minutes, Quatre turned to Duo. Again the guard stood up. Quatre held his arms out and turned slowly to show that he carried nothing in his jeans or under his shirt. The guard nodded and sat down again. Quatre sat on the edge of the bed to stroke Duo's tangled hair. Heero watched from slitted eyes, as Quatre fondled the luxurious auburn mane. If Duo were awake no one but Heero would touch that silken mass.
"You'll tell us," Quatre whispered, "and settle this matter." He leaned close to kiss his friend's cheek tenderly. "Get well. We love you."
~*~
Heero had tucked his legs under him in the chair, his head rested on his crossed arms on the bed at Duo's side, one hand clutching a lock of Duo's auburn hair. He wasn't awake, but neither was he sleeping.
Trowa and Quatre had come back for a while, but he ordered them out when Trowa drowsed and began to snore. Duo didn't snore, he purred....
Wufei came and talked to the guard. The man was now standing his watch outside the door. Wufei returned to the room and sat on the edge of the bed, touching Duo's hand lightly.
Heero looked up. "Wufei, it's my gun."
Wufei shrugged. "I know. That's the first thing I checked." They both sat silently for several minutes.
"The shooter was left-handed," he said, and Heero nodded.
"I noticed that." Another silence followed.
Wufei hopped down from the bed. "I need to get back to work."
Heero sighed. "So do I."
The Chinese boy held up his hand. "No. Heero, for once let someone else handle it." His dark eyes met Heero's. "He needs you here."
For a moment Heero glared at him, then he nodded reluctantly. "All right."
TBC...
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