Murder of Crows - A Sidestory
By: DD

Type: Side story; AU
Warnings: Extensive cussing, implied yaoi, slightly depressed Duo.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, (*very* unfortunately; imagine what I could do with GW if I owned them? **cackles gleefully**) I DO NOT OWN GUNDAM WING!! **pout** **sniffle** Also, I do not own Murder of Crows -- that belongs to KKChiTown. I highly recommend you read it; plus if you don't, you're gonna be a little confuzzled on this one. ^-^
Feedback: Feed my tiny insignificant ego!!
Description: Duo blows up the house in Frankfort, and Heero picks him up.

Notes: Sorry for any and all mistakes.


Despite his protesting, we finally got Quatre in the car. Finally; he needs to get away from this house. Bad memories, man.
I give a little wave, even though I know Quatre probably can't see me and I don't think anyone else really gives a rats ass if I wave or not. I sigh, and trudge my way back up to the house. I pause, and just stand there in the cold, glaring at the house for all I'm worth. I'm not as good a glarer as Heero, but I do my best. Ha, I bet if Heero was here he'd teach this house a thing or too about the art of glaring. It's not doing a very good job of being mean and imitating. I refuse to let myself be afraid of Krahe and his happy little winged friends.
Squashing down my feeling of trepidation, I shove open the door decorated in crows, (I'm really starting to hate them; don't give a fuck if they carry messages to God or not. There's not a God anyway. I wonder what birds send messages to Shinigami?) and walk through the house, also decorated in crows, to my room, decorated in, you guessed it, crows. Aw, you're so smart!
Reaching under my bed, I lift out my trusty old canvas bag. The guys always wonder what's in here, but only I'll ever know. I don't want them pawing through my stuff, as impersonal as I seem. (1) I pull open the bag; the zipper gives a faint "hiss" and the sound echoes through the house. I can barely suppress a shiver; I tell myself it's a shiver of anticipation, I finally get to blow up this damn creepy house, but a shrill voice in my head tells me it's fear. I snort; I don't know fear. I'm the fearless Shinigami! Yeah. Damn right.
Zipping open the first bag, it's obvious there's another bag that was hidden in the first bag. Zipping that one open reveals my prize; my handy collection of C4s and higher. I am the demolitions expert, after all. Did Heero really think that pitiful array of explosives he left me was gonna do the trick? Please. There would still be enough left to fill a plastic sandwich bag! Unacceptable.
Slinging the bag over my shoulder, I trot back downstairs and grab the rest of the various explosives that Heero and the guys left for me. Luckily, they're all small enough so that I can fit them in my bag; it would be a bitch to have to carry them everywhere. And just because something's small doesn't mean it isn't effective. All the time. Gundams excluded. I cringe at the though of a rat-sized Deathscythe rallying by waving a miniature scythe at the now larger-than-it Leos. I would have to operate it by remote control! How degrading.
I decide to begin in the kitchen. One hand holding the strap of the bag to my shoulder, I run my other along the wall, looking for weak spots- cracks, places where water condensation has ruined the interior of the wall, etc. Those places will break more easily, requiring less explosives, meaning I have more explosives to use on the house. Hopefully, it will also make the house collapse in on itself.(2) I really don't desire flying shrapnel cutting up my face. Then how will Heero ever like me? (3)
It doesn't take me long to rig the house up. Old and decrepit as it is, the house is a maze of cracks and weathering, making my job easier. Those new Oz bases are different, the crazy five always have us attack them when they're just finished and new, and they're usually steel, meaning the explosives have to go to other, less effective places. Why do the docs always find the bases *after* they're built? Why can't they find them *while* they're being built? Ugh...
I quickly do a run over to make sure we haven't forgotten anything. We haven't; quick as they were, the rest of the guys didn't miss anything. I grab the remainder of my stuff, including my nice heavy coat. Hey, I'm thin, I don't wear a coat, someone finds popsicle Duo and has a good time. Speaking of that, who is gonna come get me? I sigh; they'll probably forget, or send somebody stupid. I can't help this little wish that Heero comes to get me, at least to show that he cares about me somewhat and hopes my frozen body doesn't become the fascination of some sicko perverts in the woods. (4)
I start to walk a fair distance from the house; I don't want to get caught in the blast. Suddenly, a chill runs up my spine, and I turn. There's Krahe, the sick shit, in all his glory, surrounded by a wild murder of crows. They line up against his body somehow, resting on his shoulders, his head. Doesn't he worry about crow poo-poo on his head? It does make a lovely effect, all surrounded in shimmery black, the setting sun giving the crows clustered around him a slightly orange bask to their feathers, tinting his wild dark hair. I swallow hard; I can see how he captured Quatre's attention... Not meaning to be bias or anything, but I think if Quatre wasn't here, I would be his next target. Even though Q is sweet and sensitive and stuff, I believe he would somehow be attracted to me, seeing I don't have as much physical strength as the others... not that that would matter. Oh what am I fucking myself? Somehow, it's as if he's telling me if Q's gone, I'm his next target. It's in his eyes somehow. And I have a feeling that I would be in the same boat as Quatre if that were the situation; strangely attracted to him, yet disgusted by him and all that he stands for. And I'm not sure if I would have a strong positive force in my life like Quatre has with Trowa to help get me through this.
Dredging up my courage, I sneer at him with all my sneering ability. I have mastered the sneer and the smirk; I must have something decidedly rude and anger-sparking since Heero has claimed the glare for that purpose. Not to say I can't do a pretty wicked glare of my own if need be.
"You want something from me, dick-shit?"
Bad move.
Immediately I feel like I'm not even wearing my coat anymore, hell, I feel like I'm butt naked. A horrible cold is seeping it's way into the marrow of my bones, locking up my joints, and making my muscles spasm. I feel the urge to curl up in a ball on the ground and hug the rest of my remaining heat to my body; however, I have the feeling that wouldn't help, that the cold is coming from the inside, from Krahe, instead of the weather. This horrible cold makes me feel like Krahe and I have something in common, that we're the same, connected somehow. No! I don't ever want to be like him. I remain on my feet, not letting anything show on my face. I can put up an impassive mask just as well as anyone else. Besides, the joker's mask is all a facade, who says I can't perfect my other masks as well?
Eventually, Krahe feels that I have served enough punishment, and releases the colds grip on me. My muscles get all watery and I wobble, but remain standing, glaring at him steadily. He walks slowly toward me, the crows fluttering silently after him. I spare them a glance, I've never heard them so quiet. It has seemed like they've always been squawking and carrying on, to distract us. All the minor injuries they inflict really add up after a while.
Krahe finally moves up in front of my face. Titling and moving his head forward slightly, his lips brush my ear and his surprisingly warm breath warms my ear's outer shell.
"It's not gonna work, you know that, don't you Duo?"
I can't help myself; I give a tiny shiver. Swallowing hard, I reply, "Of course it will. People like you never win." I put a slight emphasis on 'win'.
He chuckles, leaning back. "Yes, well, my mother always said true love triumphs over everything- break ups, death, you name it."
Clingy bitches, I wonder? "You don't have real love for Quatre; you have an obsession!" I yell at his face. Distastefully, I spit at the ground by his feet, half expecting the snow to melt like it was hit by acid.
Krahe says nothing, instead turning around, walking towards the setting sun. Before he turns into a crow and disappears, he whispers something. My ears barely catch it.
"I'll be back, Duo. You tell Quatre I'll be back. And this time I won't fail. I promise."


Physically, emotionally, and spiritually drained, I lean my head against the hard, green wood of the train station bench. I wish I had an aspirin. Drawing a knee up to my chest, I rest my head on it and wonder. Can Krahe really return? I had hoped destroying the house would somehow destroy him as well. You know, ghosts needing a place to haunt?
I sigh, ruffling my bangs. I've got too much already to worry about: the war, my relationship with Heero, his existent or hopefully non-existent relationship with Relina, my relationship with him, and now Krahe. Now I want a couple aspirin.
I decide to turn my worries to more temporary problems: How the hell am I gonna get outta here? I'm not even sure where the others are. I wonder if they forgot about me. I give a small bitter laugh. Yes, it's easy to forget about Maxwell. Baka Maxwell. Annoying, ever-talking Maxwell. Self proclaimed God-of-Death Maxwell. Why doesn't he just die and get it over with?
"Holy crap!" Almost drawing my gun, I look up. I visibly relax seeing Heero; for a second his voice had sounded like Krahe's: almost emotionless, intense, and so very icy. I didn't realize my encounter with Krahe spooked me so badly. "Jesus Christ Heero, could you spook me any more?"
He frowns. "Come on; we're going." No apology. Shoulda figured.
"Gee, Heero, you could a least give me a half-hearted gomen," I mutter, grabbing my bag and standing up. Heero doesn't even know I study Japanese; it's an attempt to get to understand him a little better. Can't read Heero-body language if all you're communicating only through a com-link and can't see his body. It helps to know what he thinks I don't know he's saying. That's why I know what 'baka' means. For all I knew, baka meant 'beautiful.' Ha ha. I'm so funny.
Heero stiffens. "Did you say something?" he inquires.
I sigh. "No, nothing Heero."
Leaving the train station, we begin to walk away toward the green jeep Cherokee at the very back of the parking lot. I guess you can pick a better transport when you're not on the run for your worthless life. It's not my fault we got a station wagon; everybody was yelling at me to just pick something, so I picked the closest thing to me. Geez. If they wanted luxury, why didn't they call Ms. Relina-sama (5) herself and just have a 5-sec drop off?
Wordlessly, Heero opens the driver's side door. Sighing, I open the back door and toss my duffle in, before climbing into the front passenger seat. I turn to Heero, draping my arm over the back of the seat.
"Ne, Heero, didn't you worry about me even a little?" I feel hurt, and try not to let it show on my face. Heero stares at me for a while, before turning and starting the car, driving it out of the parking lot. I slump back against the seat, disappointed, and proceed to stare out the window, quiet, for the rest of the strained ride back to the others.


Why did Duo look at me that way? Like his heart was breaking? Why didn't I answer him?
I glance at Duo through the corner of my eye. What the hell did he ask back there? Why? Did I miss him? I search my mind. I don't know. How am I supposed to know if I missed him or not if I don't know how to miss?
I study his profile. He's sleeping now, his head leaning against the window, bumping occasionally when we hit a bump, but he doesn't wake. It must have been more tiring than I thought. He looks so...different when he's asleep. He doesn't have that constantly sadistic look on his face; he looks almost innocent. Like a sixteen year old is supposed to look. His hair is becoming all unraveled from the braid. I follow the braids line to where it pools in his lap; one of his hands clutching it loosely, like it was some sort of comfort blanket. Maybe it is, I don't know. Duo doesn't make it a habit to talk about his past with us.
It's dark now, but I remember his body outlined in the sunset. The lowering sun highlighted the pretty gold highlights in his hair. Did I miss Duo? It's confusing; something just feels wrong when he's not around. What does that mean?
And when did Duo start speaking Japanese?

(the end)

(1)- Impersonal meaning, Duo seems very open about stuff in general, like he doesn't care if he has privacy or not.
(2)- I have no idea if this is how you should blow something up or not. I'm going on physics (as little as I know of it! ^-^) and my twisted sense of logic. It makes sense to me; it may not make sense to you.
(3)- This is not just some random question. For once in my fic writing career I'm serious; I want to show that Duo has insecurities like everybody else does.
(4)- What, isn't Duo supposed to have a slightly sick sense of humor? LOL...
(5)- You do realize this is spoken in a slightly condescending tone, don't you? ^-^


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