Title: Tainted Conviction - Part Six

Author: Sita Seraph

Genre: Angst, Religious relatings

Pairing: 1x2 eventually.

Rated: R

Warning: Gruesome treatment, stigmata, sixth sense, and a whole lot
of shit.

Heero stirred from his dreamless sleep, mumbling into the pillow on
top of his single bed.  His hair was a mess from tossing and turning
all night.  He couldn't figure out why he couldn't fall asleep,
especially since he was exhausted from the But Duo's face, before the
Shinigami pilot passed out, stayed with Heero, burning into his skull
like a burning hot poker stick. The way the sense of relief, of
having been found, had washed over the happy pilot's face kept
slapping Heero awake.  And his wrists were the worst.  The ability to
see right through muscle, skin, and bone was beyond sickening - even
for Heero.  He was able to handle broken and disjointed bones.  He
was prepared for bullet wounds and knife cuts.  But he was not at all
set for holes that went through the other side.

Heero had forced the twisting of his gut to stop long enough to
clean and bandage Duo's wounds before he set him to bed.  Afterwards,
he and the rest of the Gundam pilots had searched the house, top to
bottom, to find any drugs, weapons, or anything else that could have
caused Duo's first episode, the puking of the blood, and now this.

They came up with nothing.

Duo still had not woken when they went to bed.  After tearing the
house apart and back together again, the ex-pilots each found
themselves growing weary and body parts achy from the stress forced
upon their young shoulders.  But before going to bed, Quatre had set
up a short meeting.

"He would be dead by now," Quatre said softly, the first thing he
said as they assembled in the living room downstairs.  Wufei
stiffened in the loveseat he was sitting in, arms crossed so tightly
around his chest that he looked more uncomfortable than usual.  Trowa
was sipping on a cup of black coffee from his green mug, lying back
against the couch.  Quatre was standing up by the coffee table,
across from Heero who sat on the floor with a knee drawn up to drape
his arm over.

"He should have been dead a long time ago," Trowa pointed out and
his emerald eyes grew to the stairs.  They all knew what he meant. 
The bathroom scene.

"And what about his motorcycle?" Wufei included, drawing himself
into the short conversation.

"Its obvious that Duo has a lot to say to us," Quatre said quietly,
his right hand twisting the side of his pant leg with shaky fingers. 
"We need to get some answers."

"What if he doesn't know them?" Trowa asked.

"Of course, he'll know the answers," Wufei cut in, his voice
straining to keep the sarcasm out of his tone.  "Whatever he is
doing, he's doing to himself.  He needs help."

"We found nothing to prove it was him, Wufei," Quatre said.  "For
all we know…"

They waited for Quatre to continue and he twisted his pants a bit
more, shifting from one foot to the next and eyes drawn the floor.

"I don't know," Quatre continued.  "For all we know, maybe somebody
came in here and did it to him.  Or perhaps it's some new virus."

It all seemed like logical answers.  A virus that made you puke up
gallons of your blood.  A virus that in one-hour, ate away your
wrists to make one clean, nice, circular gap on each arm.  Or it
could have been an assassin that drove beautifully carved stake into
a Gundam pilot's wrists and drugs that made Duo throw up half his
body fluids.

Uh huh.  Yeah.  Right.

Silence fell upon the prodding pilots heavily.  It was like the
stress that had been thrown on their shoulders when a pilot, one of
them, was ill and dying upstairs.  And the circumstances were so odd,
so strange, that none of the soldiers could come up with an answer. 
They knew a doctor would not know as well.

"We'll have to wait for Duo to wake up and tell us," Heero said,
breaking the silence like a steel hammer on glass.

"What if he dies?" Quatre asked, looking down at him with his hands
clasped in front of him.

"He won't," Heero said.  "He won't."

Heero didn't know why he was so sure that Duo would not die.  Maybe
it was because that even in war, with all likely chances that the
Shinigami pilot would not survive, he left the battlefield with a
crazed smile on his face.  Or maybe it had been the last few days, in
which for all logic, he should be dead and buried in the cold
ground.  Or maybe it was because he just knew.

Ah, hell, Heero thought as he blinked out of his daze. 

Heero kicked off the sheets roughly and they fluttered over the end
of the bed.  Sitting up, hair a mess, Heero wiped his sleepy eyes and
gave a very heavy sigh.  He was tired, he was cranky, and he was
thirsty.  And most of all, Duo Maxwell was trying to kill himself in
the other room.  Just great.  Heero sometimes really hated his life.

Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, his feet touched the
ground.  It took a second but then reality kicked in and Heero
immediately jerked them back off the ground.  The floorboards were
freezing cold.  Reaching over blindly in the dark, Heero turned on
his bedside lamp.  Light flooded the room and the shadows rolled back
into their respective corners.  Heero stared at the floor, long and
hard, as white wisps escaped from between the gaps of the wooden
boards.  The air from the floor was freezing. Reaching, Heero's
fingertips lightly touched the ground.  He jerked his fingers back,
startled as suddenly the air current from the floorboards shifted and
changed quickly.  The cold mist was sucked back into the boards like
a vacuum cleaner.  Heero stared, amazed at the boards, completely
taken aback and terribly confused.  Gingerly, Heero lifted one foot
out and lowered it slowly to the floor.

The frost and cold was gone.

And that's when he heard it.

Heero whipped his head towards his door as he heard the water of a
shower running.  Before Heero comprehended his racing thoughts, he
leapt out of bed, across the floor and out of his room.  Stopping
short with a jerk, Heero watched the light flooding into the hall by
the open doorway to the bathroom.  It was the only source of light in
the hall. It seemed creepy, the light and the pounding of water
hitting the shower walls.  Escaping from the bathroom was a second
white mist and Heero immediately thought about his room and the
frosted floorboards that once surrounded his bed. The Wing pilot
shuddered gently, almost afraid to go near the haunted bathroom.  He
was afraid of what he might see.  Afraid that he might see Duo.  But
since he heard no Duo, no sound at all besides water falling, Heero
took small steps forward. He held his breath.  And then he peered
into the bathroom, stepping into the single shed of light and
strained to see through the heavy, very hot mist of the bathroom.

"Oh…My God…" Heero whispered, eyes growing wide.  Yet again, his
training of a Gundam pilot was for naught for he was not prepared for
the next sight before him.  Heero took a step back, a hand flying up
to cover his nose as the stench of death, of burnt and still burning
flesh attacked him full force.  His eyes met ruby red so dark, and
skin so burnt that it looked like the skin was melting off of him. 
His ribs appeared through the thin covering of scarlet tissue, his
stomach caving in.  Blank, violet hued eyes stared out at him, hollow
and void.  No one was home.  Dead eyes.

Duo was dead.

Heero rushed forward with a speed of a tiger, whipping through the
mist and slammed the water off.  The pounding of water ceased but the
stench of fried tissue stayed around him like the hovering mist. 
Heero stared down at Duo's blank face.  Blank eyes.  Heero stared at
the burnt fresh that was just melting off his skin like wax. He
gawked at the hair that was the only thing unharmed by the killing
water.

"D-Duo…" Heero's voice trembled, he couldn't help it.  He started
reaching out, eyes getting hazy, but changed his mind hastily.  He
couldn't touch him.  Not that burnt flesh.  He didn't want to
remember red and scorched skin.  He wanted to remember milky white
and smooth skin.  Heero turned away quickly.  He gripped the counter
for support, knuckles growing white and closed his eyes tightly. 
Duo…was dead.  He was wrong.  Duo killed himself.  He scorched his
own body.  Duo was dead. Dead. Dead.

One word.

Dead.

So powerful.

Dead.

Heero wanted to scream and cry at the same time.

05 <--- Previous Chapter - Next Chapter ---> 07

Not in frames? Click here to get in them.
It's for your own good. ^.~ Trust me. Hontou.