Author's Note: This more or less fits with chapter sixty six and sixty seven of Witness, timewise.
Diary of a Protected Witness Part 56
Living in Limbo
I settled in to my new job pretty fast. Pops was a terrific boss, easygoing and good natured; and Mary kept things lively around the place.
But I was dying a little bit on the inside every damn day.
The verdict hadn't come down yet, and until it did, I couldn't make a move in any direction. I couldn't try contacting Trowa, in case the Feds had tapped his line to try to find me. And I sure as hell couldn't try to reach Heero.
Fuck--I wasn't even sure Heero would want anything to do with me when this was all over.
I mean, face it. The guy thought I was dead. He'd been to my funeral, for fuck's sake. For all I knew, he might be so pissed off after finding out about Alexander's deception that he'd want nothing to do with me.
Yeah, I know that was just my insecurities talkin', but they could be pretty fuckin' loud sometimes.
And at that point, they were pretty much screaming in my ear.
He got over you by now. He's a cop, through and through--probably buried himself in his work to push your memory away. You're dead to him, and it'd probably be for the best if you stayed that way.
They had a point. If Heero had gotten over my death, would it really be fair to show up alive--to put him through such an emotional wringer? I mean, if Zechs suddenly appeared in my life, while I knew I'd be glad to see him, I also knew it'd never be the same.
What if Heero felt that way? What if he'd moved on? What if he'd met someone?
Okay--I really needed to put a gag on those errant thoughts.
If Heero was through with me, well, he could tell me to my face when I found a way to reunite us. At the very least, he deserved to know the truth. And I guessed I did, too.
Even if it hurt.
"Jesus, Duo, you've gotta stop brooding," Mary said, laying a hand on my shoulder.
I pulled myself away from the window, where I'd been staring out at the gulls.
"It'll be okay," she assured me, looking a bit worried. "Once the verdict is in--"
Yeah, wasn't that the truth? Once the verdict was in. It all hinged on that goddamned verdict, didn't it?
"Pops wanted some fresh produce from the farmer's market in Lewiston. Y'wanna take a ride there with me?"
"Hm?"
Mary heaved a sigh. "I've got to drive up the highway to the farmer's market. Wanna come?"
"Sure," I sighed. "Why not?"
Y'know--when you ask a rhetorical question, it's not supposed to get answered. But mine did.
It got answered loudly and resoundingly when Mary and I nearly ran smack into a couple of FBI agents at a freakin' gas station along the highway west of Euphoria.
We'd stopped to fill up the tank, and while I pumped gas, Mary ran inside to pick up a couple of coffees.
It was just as the nozzle clicked off that I noticed a car pulling up on the other side of the pumps--a sleek, black car with government plates.
I started so badly I nearly dropped the damned nozzle, and hastily turned my back to the new arrivals.
Just as quickly, I remembered my braid and how fucking recognizable it was, and I reached to yank it under my coat, only to realize I had never pulled it out to begin with. I'd simply thrown on my parka and slumped into the passenger seat with a distinct lack of motivation.
Yeah, I'd still been brooding at that point, and it occurred to me rather suddenly that I'd probably been lousy company for Mary. She deserved better than that. I really needed to pull myself together and try to keep my spirits up around her and Pops. After all they'd done for me, I owed them that much.
But meanwhile, I had more important things on my mind, like the sound of car doors opening and voices as the men in the car got out.
"--waste of time. He could be anywhere by now."
"Yeah, but I'm not gonna be the one to tell the boss that, are you?"
There was a wry snort. "Not likely. I'd rather keep looking and let him think we have a chance in Hell."
I heard a heavy sigh. "What a fuckin' dump--the bathroom's probably filthy."
"That's why we get hazardous duty pay," came a snide reply.
Footsteps faded away, and I dared a glance over my shoulder. Both occupants of the car had headed inside, leaving the vehicle empty, and I gave it a long look, trying to see if it was the same one that had nearly caught up with Max and me.
But y'know, all those government vehicles look alike to me. The make and model were the same, but that didn't mean much. Alexander could have half a dozen teams of agents out scouring the countryside for me, and he probably did.
At least it sounded like this pair was getting discouraged, and that was fine with me. Maybe they'd give up and let me relax a bit and stop jumping at shadows.
"Duo?"
I nearly jumped out of my skin, whirling to face Mary, who'd come out of the building with a little cardboard tray containing two coffees.
"Get in the car!" I said sharply, putting away the nozzle and quickly screwing in the gas cap.
"What? Why?"
"Just do it!" I snapped, looking at the building again to see if the men were in sight. They weren't.
Meanwhile, Mary obeyed my order, and while she was buckling her seatbelt, I let my gaze scan the rundown station to see if there were security cameras anywhere.
There weren't, and in a moment of madness--and I do mean I was mad, as opposed to insane--I decided it was time for some payback against the damned Feds.
Slipping the jackknife from my pocket, I stepped over the center island and crouched beside the black car, very deliberately slicing the front tire, right along the rim.
Then I did the same to the rear, ensuring that we couldn't be followed, even if they figured out who'd done the deed.
"Duo!" Mary hissed, rolling down the window and looking at me like I was crazy. "What are you doing?"
I ignored her, leaning in and reaching across her to snatch a napkin and a pen out of the center console. "Leaving a love note," I muttered under my breath.
Then I penned a swift message: Kiss my ass goodbye, Al! And I tucked it under the Feds' windshield wiper.
"Let's get outta here before they come out and get a license number!" I urged, ducking around Mary's car and sliding in the passenger side.
She pulled out slowly and carefully, drawing no attention as we left the gas station behind.
When I looked over my shoulder, the two men had not yet come out, and another car was pulling in and driving up to the pump we'd left. There were a couple more pulling in from the opposite direction, too.
Home free!
I let out a jubilant whoop and punched a fist into the air in triumph. "Yesss!"
Mary spared me a quizzical look. "What did you just do?"
"I told the Feds to kiss off," I said with a grin.
Her eyes got very round. "Those were FBI agents?"
"Yep."
She pursed her lips, and then let out a rueful chuckle. "Well shit."
"Yeah," I agreed. "Did they say anything when you passed them on your way out?"
"Not to me--they were bickering back and forth about where they'd find a decent place to eat and a motel with cable."
I couldn't help laughing. "Your tax dollars at work," I teased.
Mary laughed, too, and then gave me a warm look. "It's nice to see you happy," she noted.
"For a change?" I guessed. "Look--I'm sorry I've been so down--"
But she shook her head. "Stop apologizing right now, Duo Maxwell. You've been through Hell--chased halfway across the state, shot at, made to testify in a high profile trial, and then attacked and nearly killed. On top of that, you got shuffled off into hiding, had to escape another assassination attempt, and then ended up walking most of the way to Euphoria. Don't you think it's understandable that you're tired and frazzled and a little prone to obsessing about how you'll get back together with the man you love?"
"Well, when you put it that way--" I said with a grin.
She smiled widely, stepping on the accelerator and speeding us on our way to the farmer's market.
The rest of the trip passed without mishap, and we had a great time in the "big" city. (By "big" I mean it was still only a fraction the size of the one I'd grown up in.) But I made damn sure I kept my braid safely out of sight at all times.
We took an alternate route back to Euphoria, figuring there was no point in tempting fate if the Feds were still haunting the main thoroughfares. And when we got back, it was so late I headed straight to bed, and was out almost before my head hit the pillow.
~*~
The next morning I woke feeling better rested than I had in a long time, and I was able to manage a smile for Pops when I strolled into the kitchen at The Gull's Wing.
He gave me a narrow look as I tucked my braid into the back of my tee shirt and donned my apron. "Mary tells me the Feds haven't given up on you just yet."
Oh. Um--oops.
I turned to him immediately. "Look, Pops, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done something so stupid with Mary there--but I was so pissed at seeing them in the area--"
He shook his head, smirking slightly. "Naw, I'm not gonna chew you out for pulling a fast one on the Feds--at least not for Mary's sake. She wasn't in any danger. But if they'd spotted you--"
"If they'd spotted me, I'd probably be back in protective custody right about now, in the hands of an organization loaded with corrupt agents."
He nodded wisely. "And it'd be pretty damn hard for that man of yours to find you, wouldn't it?"
I hung my head. "Yes sir."
He gave a quiet chuckle. "Don't fret it, boy. You did what I woulda done when I was your age. But I think maybe you should stick close to home from now on--while the heat dies down, eh?"
I looked up from under my bangs, giving him a wan smile, and thinking how nice the word "home" sounded. Or at least, it would be home if Heero came there--and if he still cared and wanted to be with me.
"You're a wise old man, Pops," I told him. "I promise to stay out of sight, at least until the verdict comes down, and I know whether the Feds might need me any more."
"Good," he said curtly. "Now, how 'bout you help me with this tarragon chicken recipe you wanted to make?"
Well, those were the magic words. I spent a wonderful morning in that warm kitchen, teaching Pops how I made the favorite meal of a certain Chinese detective I knew and loved.
We were so engrossed in it, adding seasoning and tasting our work in between serving up the regular midday meals, that when Mary came tearing into the kitchen late in the afternoon, she had to bang on a pot lid to get our attention.
"Didn't you hear me?" she yelped. "You forgot to turn the t.v. on! The verdict came in! And there was a shooting in the courthouse right after!"
I turned to her in disbelief, tempted to check my ears to see if I'd heard her right. The verdict?
Wait a sec-- "A shooting?" I demanded. Oh God, let Heero be okay!
She nodded frantically. "Come on! I've got the t.v. on over the bar."
She didn't have to say it twice; Pops and I nearly ran her over in our hurry to get to the counter, and the small television that hung above one end of it. Several patrons were gathered there, listening avidly to the reporter.
"--in a shocking development, Relena Darlian, daughter of Police Chief Darlian, pulled out a gun and fired at Mister Khushrenada. He was pronounced dead at the scene by paramedics."
I staggered back a step, putting a hand to my chest as I sucked in a disbelieving breath.
Treize Khushrenada was dead?
I just couldn't quite wrap my brain around the concept. The man had seemed fuckin' indestructible--larger than life. Invincible. "He's dead?" I gasped.
Mary turned to look at me, and whatever she saw made her suddenly pull a chair up behind me. I sank into it, my legs refusing to support me all at once. And when Pops pressed a shot of whiskey into my hand, I drank it automatically.
Treize Khushrenada was dead.
"--took Miss Darlian into custody. Sources in the police department said their investigation has already turned up a motive in the case, though they cannot discuss it at this time."
"The found him guilty," Mary said, sitting on an arm of my chair, and leaning an elbow on my shoulder.
"Huh?"
"Khushrenada. The jury found him guilty, just before the crazy girl showed up and shot him."
I looked up at Mary and then back at the television, not really hearing the reporter over the pounding of my heart and the blood rushing to my head. God, it'd be so fuckin' embarrassing if I fainted over this!
"Have another drink," Pops suggested, refilling my glass.
I downed it in a gulp, thinking I really needed a cigarette to go with such nice, smooth whiskey. But it'd been weeks since I smoked. The nurse at the convalescent home wouldn't let me, while my lung was healing, and Webster and Davis had refused to buy the kind I liked, so I went without there, as well.
This was the first time I'd really missed my nasty habit.
But now that the initial shock was wearing off, I tuned back in to the information being broadcast, listening to hear if there were any other casualties in that courtroom. I knew for sure that Quatre would have been there, and probably Trowa, too. Heero and Wufei most certainly would have attended, eager to see justice meted out.
And Hell, they got it in spades, didn't they?
While convicting Khushrenada for Zechs' murder was definitely fair and just, him being shot by my dead lover's half-sister was both ironic and deserved. It couldn't have happened to a nicer guy.
"What're you grinning about?" Pops asked, not liking the irrepressible smirk I was wearing.
But I couldn't help it. It was just too perfect! The little blonde bitch who'd nearly destroyed me an' Zechs--who'd almost gotten 'Ro and me killed--and who'd done her damnedest to fuck with my life in every which way--was the one who pulled the trigger on Treize Khushrenada.
I started to chuckle, and hastily muffled it under a hand, afraid I'd become a bit hysterical if I let it get away.
To save myself a world of embarrassment, I got up and retreated into the kitchen, only letting my laughter loose once I was out the back door on the little deck that overhung the water.
And then I just folded up my apron and buried my face in it, laughing helplessly.
I wasn't sure why I couldn't seem to stop. I mean, first I was laughing at the irony, and then I just started to feel like it had all been a waste of time--all that work to convict the bastard, only to have him duck out on a life sentence the easy way.
Well, it was easy, all things considered. I mean, he was more or less dead before he hit the ground. That hadda beat spending years in a hard core prison, didn't it? Especially for a man like him--used to having his way in everything.
Then suddenly I was sobbing into that stupid apron, wishing Heero was there to wrap me in his arms and tell me it was over, and that I'd never have to be afraid again. But I was afraid. I was terrified that after all we'd been through, we'd somehow be cheated out of that "forever" we'd promised each other.
Either Heero would be over me, or something would keep us apart--the Feds could find me and drag me off again for their case against Oz, or Heero could end up going off on another case without having time to bring the ashes to Euphoria.
There were just a million things that could go wrong. And all of them weighed upon my overwrought brain at the same time, nearly crushing me with their intensity.
"Duo! Are you okay?"
Dammit, Mary was there again, and I wanted to tell her to go the fuck away and just let me deal with this on my own. There was nothing she could do to help, and knowing she and Pops cared just made me feel the absence of my real friends all the more.
On the heels of that thought came a crashing wave of guilt, and I pushed myself upright, wiping my face with the soggy apron. "I'm fine," I lied in a ragged whisper.
"Right," came the skeptical response.
"I will be," I amended, a little more confident of that answer.
She pressed something into my hands and I looked down at her cell phone, blinking stupidly.
"Call him," she urged.
"I can't!" I raised tortured eyes to her face. "I told you an' Pops, the Feds probably have all my friends' phones tapped. If I call anyone, they're liable to show up here to round me up."
"Make it a short call," she suggested. "I heard it takes them awhile to triangulate on a cell phone. And right now, with all that's going on at that courthouse, I'd bet they've forgotten all about you."
I looked at the phone again. "But they think I'm dead," I reminded her.
"Prove you're not."
I shook my head. "How?"
"I dunno, Duo. You're the street kid," she chided. "Be creative."
She went back inside, closing the door and leaving me there with the soothing sea breeze and the sound of the gulls to steady my nerves.
Too bad they couldn't steady my hands. I was shaking like a leaf as I punched in Trowa's cell phone number.
TBC...
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