Merrillian Part 10
His eyes drifted open slowly, as he glanced at the room around him. At first, his blurry vision was able to make out nothing. Everything around him was so bright, burning whiteness filling every pore of his vision.
It hurt.
He lay there against the stiff softness, trying to move his arms, his legs, his head... but he couldn't. Blinking nearly constantly he willed his eyes to focus, determined to figure out exactly where he was and what was going on. He needed to know.
Slowly his world swam into focus and he was able to make out a bright florescent light above his head. He blinked his eyes again and turned his head, noticing a clean but plain metal table next to him along with a stiff looking folded chair. Everything else in the room was a bright white, as if it had all been sterilized and cleaned to death.
Turning his head down, toward his body, he noticed that his previous guess was wrong. The sheets atop his body were colored, a strange mixture of red and white that seemed horribly out of place in the room.
Why did that pattern seem so familiar?
Slowly, with great effort, he raised one of his hands to look at it in the light and to shield the light from his eyes. But as his hand and arm came into view his breath caught in his throat.
Wrapped tightly around his arm, curling like some deadly serpent squeezing the life out of it's prey, was a set of thick red chains. Upon closer inspection he found that they covered his entire body, tying him securely to the bed.
He turned his head in a panic, looking around the room for a possible way out. What was he doing here? Where was he? How had these chains gotten here?
Why didn't the room have a door!?
His eyes widened beyond belief as he struggled against the chains, but they refused to budge loose. He pulled and pulled and pulled, but still nothing.
"You can stop struggling now," said a soft voice next to him.
Slowly, ever so carefully, he turned his head toward the voice, and once again found himself near shock.
A boy lay next to him, also chained down in a similar fashion. His long chestnut colored hair fanned wildly out under his body, spilling across the pristine white sheets. His violet eyes met the boy's and a small grin crossed his face. A grin of maniacal glee.
"You're trapped like me now. You'll never get free. It won't ever let us go."
He shook his head.
But Duo's eyes narrowed and the grin on his face grew large, to a eerie and scary expression. At the same time Heero felt the chains twisting around his body, turning and curving as they pulled tighter. He was soon being pulled down, his surroundings swallowing him up in a twist and twirl of red chains and white blankets.
"The Merrillian never lets go."
And Heero screamed.
~*~
His eyes snapped open with a cry of pain as his entire world snapped back around him. The sudden burst of consciousness nearly made him want to jump out of bed, but a hard force held him down where he lay on his stomach and he ended up gasping painfully for air as his body flared with pain. The pain was intense, like thousands of small needles poking into his back. He struggled hard, but something still held him down, preventing any movement. Only after his mind had become slightly accustomed to the pain did he noticed that someone was saying his name.
"Heero, Heero, please, don't move. You'll only tear the stitches. Calm down. Please."
Heero forced himself to listen and stop moving, swallowing his shock and panic until it became an uneasy twist in the bottom of his stomach. Taking a few deep breaths he forced himself to relax. This succeeded in calming his nerves significantly and he slowly turned his mind to other things.
It didn't take long for him to notice that he was lying on his stomach in his own room, his father sitting next to him on the bed. The room was lit dimly from his desk lamp and the hallway light shining in through his door. He could still feel pain radiating from his back, but it had faded to a dull throb now. Heero slowly turned his head to face his father.
"Awake now?"
"Yes," he said, not trusting his ability to nod.
Odin nodded at him and pulled his arms back, releasing his light hold on Heero's shoulders. Sitting back in the chair he'd pulled next to the bed, Odin's eyes flickered with concern to his son.
"What happened?" Heero's tongue felt thick in his mouth, and he recognized the strange after taste left from having drugs that put one to sleep. Well, his father had mentioned stitches and from the pain on his back...
"That's what I was going to ask you," Odin's face creased with concern. "I came home to find an ambulance in the driveway and you being pulled away on a stretcher. Heero, what were you and your friends up to?"
"I..." Heero swallowed hard. "I don't know what happened."
Odin opened his mouth to protest, but seemed to think better of it. "Sorry, I know you were unconscious for it. But Catherine wasn't able to give me a good explanation since she said she wasn't in the room at the time." He sighed softly. "Your back has only a handful of stitches, but they should heal relatively quickly. Apparently the mirror from the bathroom fell on top of you and shattered over you. You're very lucky none of the cuts were that deep."
The mirror had fallen? Heero's mind drifted back to what he and Quatre had been trying to do, and the strange reactions afterward. Now that he thought about it he did remember something shoving him backward and the sound of glass shattering around him. Had the mirror fallen on top of him? Or had he been thrown backward into it?
What had happened to Quatre?
Heero's eyes widened. "What about Quatre? Is he all right?"
Odin nodded. "He's fine. His right arm got cut up pretty bad, but like yours he only needed a couple stitches. His mother came to pick him up before I got a chance to ask him what happened."
At those words Heero relaxed even more and let out a relieved sigh. Settling against the bed he watched his father quietly for a long moment. At least Quatre hadn't been hurt by the mirror, but now he was faced with trying to explain to his father what had happened to them, and why they'd pulled the mirror out of the bathroom. For the life of him he couldn't come up with any plausible excuse, and at the same time he had no idea how to explain the truth to his father.
"Heero..."
Heero couldn't help but cringe at that tone of voice. He knew it well even though his father rarely used it. This was the 'lecture' tone of voice, the tone that all parents saved for those moments when they were about to impart some great wisdom to their children, usually followed by a scolding of some sort. Odin rarely used such a tone with his son, because frankly Heero had never really needed any such discipline, but that didn't keep him from instinctively fearing what was coming next.
Odin glanced down at his lap, where one of the notebooks sat open to a random page. Heero noticed that he must have been reading over them as he waited for his son to wake up.
"Heero, about all of this. I have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, but it seems like something big."
Heero diverted his eyes away from his father, not knowing what to say to that.
"Perhaps I haven't been paying enough attention to you, I know I get caught up in my work a lot-"
"That's not it at all," Heero said softly, but he still didn't meet his father's eyes. Instead he focused across the room on the painting of his mother and Trowa.
Odin sighed again and set a hand on Heero's shoulder. "I'm not going to poke into your business though."
At that Heero blinked and his eyes flickered back to his father. Struggling he turned his head to look straight at him. "You're not?"
The older man offered a small smile. "No, I'm not. Because I figure if you wanted my help with this you would have asked. Because you know I'm always here to help, even if my books seem to suck me in often enough. No, I understand you Heero; I remember being your age. I hated my parents digging into my problems, so I'm not going to. But only if you promise to ask me if you want my help."
Heero nodded slowly, still partially in shock at his father's reaction.
"You've got good friends, Heero. You should have seen Quatre at the hospital. He refused to let any of the doctors touch him, even though he was bleeding pretty badly. He said they had better not touch him until they knew for sure that you were all right. And even after that, his mother had to practically drag him home, he was so worried."
Heero chuckled softly. That definitely sounded like Quatre to him.
"Well, that fatherly lecture said, you need some sleep. I should get out of here and let you sleep. The doctor said that you need to stay in bed and avoid moving for tonight, then I'm suppose to put this stuff on your back and bandage it tomorrow morning. So, stay in bed ok?"
Heero nodded slowly. "I will. Night dad."
Odin nodded and headed for the door, his hand pausing by the switch for the hallway light. But he stopped and glanced back at his son over his shoulder. "It's something big isn't it?"
Heero frowned lightly. "I'm not sure... yeah, yeah it is."
Odin turned around to face his son. "You know, when I always had something that bugged me and it wasn't something I could fix, I used to write it into stories."
"You wrote stories?"
"Where do you think I got into the habit of writing all those journals? I used to write my characters having the troubles I did, and then I had them solve them. I know you don't write, but maybe you could do the same thing with your paintings." He gave a shrug and a smile. "Just a thought."
"Thanks, I may try that."
"Not tonight you won't. Get some sleep, or do I have to hit you over the head and knock you out again?"
Heero chuckled softly. "No, no I promise to stay in bed. Night dad."
"Night."
~*~
Heero woke up the next morning feeling much better. His sleep had been rare and fitful, thanks to the throbbing pain from his back, and forcing himself not to move during the night left him feeling trapped. But when the sun woke him by shining on his face from the window, he felt in a significantly better condition.
His eyes roamed the room, looking for his father, or anyone else for that matter, but found he was alone. Taking a deep breath he risked pushing himself up slightly with his arms, just enough to flex the muscles on his back.
The response was instant and left him gasping as he dropped back down. His back cried out in pain, but not nearly as badly as he would have expected. Heero sighed to himself and went back to just lying in bed on his stomach, knowing he would just have to wait until his father came up to check on him.
He hoped that wasn't long.
His eyes cast about the room, looking for some sort of distraction to fill his mind and time, since he had no interest in trying to fall back asleep. After a moment, his eyes came to rest on the photo album sitting on the table next to his bad. Heero frowned and stretched out his arm, ignoring his back as he took the book and pulled it in front of him to a place where he could look at it and turn the pages with little trouble.
Propping the book against his headboard he flipped to the first page. Written in very neat writing was the name 'Quatre Raberba Winner'. Scrawled next to it, with a black crayon in shaky letters, were the words 'and Duo!'. Heero found himself smiling just slightly as he realized that Duo himself must have written that there. He turned to the next page, slowly, looking at each page.
Heero soon found that the photo album was more then that. Folded in between the photos and small captions, he found scraps of paper with hastily sketched faces and creatures, school report cards and even a newspaper clipping about Quatre and Duo winning some bike race. It wasn't long before Heero realized exactly what this photo album was. It wasn't just a collection of pictures, but rather a collection of Quatre's memories of his cousin.
The pages were worn and in some places the photos were coming loose, the binding crumbling from use. This book had obviously been paged through many times and Heero even thought he could make out small dots where the paper was just a little bit darker then it should have been. Water marks? From tears?
Heero sighed as he turned to the last page and just stared at the picture. It was a large one, blown up to fit the whole page. Quatre sat in a chair wearing a fancy white outfit, with a table full of gifts in front of him and the biggest grin on his face that Heero had ever seen. Beside him Duo was leaning over the table, blowing out the candles on a cake that clearly had Quatre's name on it, but no one seemed to mind. Duo seemed to be laughing while he was blowing out the candles and even in the picture his eyes were lit up brighter then the candles on the cake.
Idly he wondered what Duo's eyes looked like in real life. Up until this point he'd only seen them in photos, or in the hazy and surreal world of his dreams. He wondered if they shined in real life, or caught the light so that they rivaled the hues of twilight. He wondered what the current Duo would look like now that he was older. Would he still smile the same way when he woke up? Would his eyes finally shine with happiness when the dreams stopped and he woke up?
When the dreams stopped...
Heero shut the photo album quickly and turned his head away from it, resting his cheek against the sun-warmed sheets.
"Heero? You awake?" Odin's voice came from the doorway and Heero moved his head slowly in a nod, not bothering to open his eyes. Instead he just lay there, enjoying the warm sunlight as it danced across his face and made the insides of his eyelids burn bright red.
He heard his father move across the room and move the sheets. Fingers touched his back, gently, where he guessed the stitches were. Then he felt something wet and cold being placed over his skin. His eyes opened and he winced at the sunlight in his eyes. Turning his head he glanced at his father in question.
Odin held up a small plastic white container. "Some soothing painkiller thing the doctors gave me for you. Can you sit up?"
"I think so."
Moving very slowly, and with much help from his father, Heero sat up by moving his back as little as possible. Raising his arms he let his father wrap a thick gauze tightly around his chest, covering the stitches and his stomach tightly. He might have complained a bit about the tightness, but when the gauze was finally wrapped he found he could move without hurting as much. His father had wrapped it tight and thick to restrict his movement just enough. Slowly he tried moving to the edge of the bed and tried to stand. Heero smiled just a bit as he realized he could do so without much pain at all.
"Better?" Odin asked with a raised eyebrow.
Heero nodded. "I think I can move around without much trouble. It'll just take some getting used to."
"No sudden movements."
"Yeah, no sudden movements."
Odin remained by the door as he watched Heero move slowly across the room to his dresser. In any other situation Heero might have minded dressing in front of his father, but this time he understood and decided to indulge his father's attentiveness. After all, it was the least he could do since Odin hadn't pried into this whole strange mess.
After pulling on a pair of jeans and a loose button down shirt, which he left hanging open, he followed his father downstairs. To his surprise he found a familiar blond boy sitting at the table, smiling brightly at him.
"Quatre?"
Odin grinned. "He knocked on the door a few minutes ago, wanting to know how you were doing. Did I mention that you've got some damn persistent friends?"
Quatre chuckled and Heero joined in with a small laugh.
"I also thought you'd like to check on Duo," Quatre said, his voice dropping to a slightly more serious tone.
In a second Heero's humor disappeared too and he nodded. He did want to know if anything had happened after their attempt at communication. He glanced at his silent father, who gave him a small nod of permission, then turned back to Quatre.
"Let's go."
The blond stood up and headed for the door. "My mother's waiting outside and said she'd drive."
~*~
When both boys arrived at the hospital they were greeted with a not too comforting sight. A large amount of machinery was being just being rolled out of Duo's room. All the doctors and nurses who were leaving the room spoke in hushed voices with eyes that glanced worriedly back into the room. The air around them suddenly felt cold and still despite all the movement in the hallways.
Something had gone wrong.
Heero's eyes widened in fear as Quatre broke into a run beside him. Without much thought Heero followed him, ignoring the protests from his back, as he and Quatre bolted for the room. Shoving through doctors and equipment both came to a halt as soon as they were inside the room and could see, at least partially, what was going on.
Duo lay in his bed, just like before, but with dramatic changes. His skin was now ashen and pale, nearly matching the white sheets beneath his body. Evidence of glistening sweat covered his skin and the covers were wrinkled around him, like he'd been thrashing about in pain. His hair was wet and matted against his face and the pillow below his head as the person sitting beside him gently mopped his forehead with a damp cloth.
It only took a few seconds for Heero to notice who this person was. He didn't need to be told at all.
Raymond Maxwell was a spitting image of his son, or was it the other way around? The older man, who was dressed in a now very wrinkled business suit, had the same shade of brown hair cut very close to his head, and a matching beard to go with it. Small eyes, red from possible crying or excessive stress, darted across the room to them. Those eyes met with Quatre's and were suddenly filled with a look of such intense hatred that Heero found himself taking a step back in reflex.
"Get out!" The man hissed angrily.
Quatre's own eyes narrowed and he clenched his fists at his sides. But he stood his ground. "No," he said, in a softer but firm voice.
"Get the fuck out of here, Winner! You aren't welcome! I should have known this was your fault, all of this." The man's face grew red as his voice raised in fury. "You and your fucking family, take everything from me why don't you? Isn't it about time you find a new person's life to fuck with?! Goddamn it, can't I have my own miserable peace?!"
The blond flinched like he'd been slapped, hard and he shut his eyes, struggling to stay calm. But whatever he attempted failed, because, as far as Heero could see, in the next moment Quatre seemed to snap.
"You think I didn't lose him in this too!?" The blond bit back without looking at the man.
The man didn't respond to Quatre's words, just continued to glare icily at him.
"Duo was one of the best friends I've ever had! More like a brother then a cousin any day. How do you think I felt when you were standing in front of me, swearing up and down that he'd been kidnapped? How do you think that made me feel!? Especially when I find out he's been sitting here all this time, right under my nose! Why would you do that?!" Tears were filling the blonde's eyes as he fixed Raymond with an almost desperate look.
Raymond responded by spitting to the floor. His voice came out in a hiss of hatred that was so thick it almost felt like a physical force. "My wife is dead, because of you. My son is dead because of you. Everything I held dear is gone, because of you. Because of you I'm reduced to caring for what is only a doll! Is it a joke of yours to make him like this? I can't even bring myself to pull the plug, no matter how many years or how much money it takes, I can't. And I only have the Winners to blame. You and your fucking family are the reason behind all of this!"
Quatre seemed to crumble at those words, or perhaps at the intense hatred directed at him. He backed away from Raymond until his back hit the wall and he wrapped his arms around himself, tears streaming down his face. Heero's eyes flickered from the sobbing blond to the red-faced man at the bed. His own eyes narrowed and he stepped forward, he'd had enough.
"And if we're trying to help him?" He asked, his voice smooth and firm.
Raymond suddenly seemed to realize someone else was in the room, someone he didn't recognize or know. But that didn't change his anger or his disposition. "He's dead, he's been like this for years. What the hell do you honestly think you can do?"
Heero glared at him. "If I were his father, and I was in your place, I would be willing to try anything about now. Especially if there was even a slim chance it would work."
The man practically shook with anger, his face glowing a bright red. Bringing up a threatening fist, he clenched it tight enough to tremble in front of his chest.
"How dare you accuse me of not trying, you have no idea what is going on here."
"I know enough."
"Fuck you! Both of you! Get the fuck out of this room! You aren't allowed in here and I don't ever want to see you again!" To add to his words, Raymond punched the nurse's call button.
A pair of doctors appeared at the door, looking suddenly very worried at the heated exchange. Still, to their credit, they recovered quickly and stepped into the room to help remove Heero and Quatre. One of them moved toward Heero and he slapped their hands away, causing him to stop in surprise. Ignoring the doctors he carefully walked over to Quatre and wrapped his arms around the sobbing boy, then led him out of the room.
Heero spared Raymond a look of complete pity, which only seemed to make the man angrier, if that were even possible, then they left the room.
Heero guided the blond to a bench in another hallway, where he helped him sit down to relax. Tears were still streaming down his face, but he seemed to be calming now that he was out of the room. Slowly, Quatre's sobs died down to small sniffles. Using his sleeve, the blond angrily wiped away the remainder of his tears, and turned away from Heero.
"I'm sorry I broke down in there," he whispered softly.
"Nothing to apologize for. Perfectly understandable considering what he said." Heero responded quietly.
Quatre brought up his knees on the bench and hugged them tightly against his chest, and Heero just then noticed the bandages wrapped tightly around one of his arms. His mind drifted to the mirror and to what all had happened to his back.
"Quatre... do you think we hurt him?" Heero asked softly.
The blond bit back a small sob, knowing that Heero wasn't talking about Raymond anymore, but his son. "I... don't know..." he whispered.
Heero bit his lower lip and glanced at the blond in worry. "I hope what he said is worth it."
Quatre looked up at Heero in question.
"Before I was thrown out of the dream, I was able to speak with Duo. He said we need to find the stone. And then he said a strange word... Merrillian."
Quatre frowned. "It doesn't ring any bells."
Heero remained silent, but then his eyes slowly lifted and met Quatre's.
"I think I recognize it. But I have to go back home, in my father's study to be sure. If I'm wrong then the word at least sounds rare enough that we shouldn't be bogged down with information. But if it isn't enough..."
Quatre nodded slowly when Heero didn't let the sentence finish. The meaning was close enough; Heero had no intention of trying to contact Duo like that again, not when this was the result.
They could only hope that this last clue would bring them to the answer.
TBC...
Back to Snow Tigra's Fanfictions Page