A Murder of Crows--Side Story
Title: A Murder of Crows--a side story
Type: Side story; AU
Author: DD
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!! Check sig for address.
Description: Duo blows up the house in Frankfort, and Heero picks him up.
Notes: Sorry for any and all mistakes.
Murder of Crows- A side story
By: DD
***
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 of
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. Theres not a God anyway. I wonder what birds send
messages to Shingami?) 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 Shingami!
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 somethings 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 Quatres
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?
"Duo."
"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 Chirst 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 drivers 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?
***
(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? ^-^
~DD - Demoness Extitrordinare
Proud member of the DHML.
© 2000 by DD. Please do not remove without permission.
