Disclaimers:  I still own nothing, not Gundam Wing or any of its characters.

Notes:  Yes, I was very mean to poor Duo in the last part, wasn’t I?  Well, here’s another part where I’m mean to Duo.

Desires and Deceptions.
Part 13

Duo groaned as he slowly opened his eyes.  Pain clouded his vision as he struggled to get his body to move.  Finally, he got
himself to his knees, his eyes eventually focusing on his surroundings.  It was dark, nighttime.  That either meant that he hadn’t
been unconscious too long, or he had been out for over a day.  But judging from the terrible pain in his body, he guessed it was
the former.

An icy breeze freezing his skin, informed Duo that his body was bare of clothing.  He looked down at himself, the memory of
what had happened to him suddenly hitting him.  His hair fell loosely about his shoulders like a cape as he saw the numerous
bruises to his body, the lacerations and other cuts in his skin, and the dark pool of blood below him, staining his pale thighs.  He
shuddered, pulling his arms around himself as he choked back a sob.  He had been used again, just like when he was in training.  
He rocked back and forth, ignoring the pain, just feeling so . . . dirty.

He reached out, his hand shaking as he grabbed what remained of his clothing.  The shirt was useless, nothing but a tattered rag,
and the pants were barely any better.  But he knew he had to put something on.  He did his best with the pants, pulling them on
and adjusting them so that they at least they covered him somewhat.  He didn’t see his shoes anywhere, either they were
somewhere that he just didn’t see them, or someone had stolen them while he was lying unconscious.  At least his backpack
was still there, and hadn’t been touched by the look of it.

He struggled to get himself to his feet, grabbing his backpack as he slowly moved.  Everything about him hurt, his backside
burning, his ribs aching almost agonizingly.  But after a few moments he found himself standing, although not steadily.  He
placed his palm to the nearest wall, using it to support some of his weight as he slowly made his way out of the alley.

Duo turned out of the alley, and carefully began walking, taking his hand away from the wall.  A familiar sound caught his
attention while he stumbled along, and he turned, only to see a display of stereos and TVs in a store window.  He heard the
gentle sound of a guitar starting the beginning of a song he knew well.  Soon after, a soothing cello entered the song.  Duo
shuddered, as the first words played just loud enough for him to hear through the glass window.

//Close your eyes
Let me touch you now
Let me give you something that is real//

It was the song that had played when Duo and Heero had that romantic dinner, during their dance together.  It seemed so long
ago.  The memories replayed in his mind, the way Heero had danced with him, the feel of the Japanese pilot’s hands on his
body, guiding him in the dance.

//Close the door
Leave your fears behind
Let me give you what you’re giving me//

He had let go, let go of all the bad memories, trusting Heero with his life, with his soul.  It was the only time he had ever felt
happy with another human being touching him.  Heero’s voice echoed in his ears, the way he had whispered the words the song

//You are the only thing
That makes me want to live at all
When I am with you
There’s no reason to pretend that
when I am with you
I feel flames again
Just put me inside you
I would never ever leave
Just put me inside you
I would never ever leave you//

“I’m not leaving you, Duo.  I’ll never leave you.”  Heero had reassured him that night, promising that he would never leave him.

“Lies.”  Duo whispered, his body trembling as he stared in at the stereos.  The last word of the song fading away, the violin and
guitar once again taking control of the song, Duo snapped.  “LIES!”  He screamed, lifting his backpack and throwing it with all
the force he could muster.  It smashed through the window, hitting one of the stereos and knocking it over.

He limped forward.  He reached in, grabbing a small radio that still taunted him with the song, tearing open his own flesh with
the jagged edges of what remained of the window.  But he didn’t care.  He was oblivious to the pain in his body now.  All that
remained was anger, the terrible soul-shredding agony that Heero’s betrayal had left, the memories of what the men had done to
him in that alley, the memories of what his trainers had done to him as a child.  

He screamed.  “You PROMISED me!”  He picked up the radios, throwing them to the ground one at a time, until all were
smashed and broken on the ground at his feet, the song no longer playing, no longer taunting him with the memories of what he
once had and would never have again . . . the memories of Heero.

A pair of hands gripped his shoulders, trying to pull him away from the shattered window, and the damage he was causing, not
only to the products, but to himself as well.  Duo just turned and lashed out at the unknown person, not caring who it was, or
why he was touching him.  No one could touch him now, not ever again.

Over and over again, he muttered the same phrase.  “You promise me.”

Sirens filled the air, but he continued, grabbing whatever was left in the window display and throwing it to the ground, cutting
his arms on the glass almost every time.  The blood flowed dark and red along his arms, but still he couldn’t care less.  Every
now and then someone would try and stop him, but he would just turn on them, punching them, kicking them, doing whatever it
took to get them to leave him alone.

A sharp stinging sensation in his neck finally got his attention.  He lifted his hand, and pulled out the offensive object.  Turning it
in his fingers, he saw that it was a tranquilizer dart.  But that wouldn’t stop him.  No, not after all G had done getting him
immune to such things.  Duo had built up a pretty high tolerance to tranquilizers.  One dart wasn’t going to knock him out.  Duo
let out a single laugh, then turned back to what he had been doing.  However, now, he saw that there was nothing left in the
store window.

He looked down at the mess below him.  Narrowing his gaze, he glared momentarily, then lifted his bare foot and brought it
down on one of the broken radios.  Pain surged up his leg, but he didn’t stop.  He just repeated his action, stomping with all the
force he had, then finally jumping and landing on the hated objects with both feet.  Below him he saw blood beginning to pool,
and again he didn’t care.

Suddenly, a force knocked him down.  He gasped, trying to suck in the air that had been forced from his lungs.  Hands, several
pairs, were holding him down, forcing him to lie on the ground.  He kicked and screamed, terror gripping his heart as the
memories of what had happened that very night to him resurfaced.

He looked up, his body shaking with fear and saw several uniformed officers holding him down to the ground.  Still, he couldn’t
help but be terrified.  And then another man appeared at Duo’s side.  This one was not a police officer, like the others.  Duo
screamed as realization dawned on him.  This man was a paramedic, and in his hand he held a syringe.

“No!”  Duo screamed, terrified of both the man and the needle he held.  

He managed to get two of the four cops off of him, before once again he was pinned to the ground.  His arm was forced away
from his body, held out to the paramedic.  Only moments later, the needle was pushed into his skin.  Duo cried the entire time,
whimpering for them to just let him die.  He knew what they would do to him, they’d take him to a hospital, a place of pain and
death, the worst place in Duo’s honest opinion . . . hell on earth.  He’d rather die in the street than go to a hospital.

But it didn’t seem as if Duo had much choice.  Soon, his body stopped struggling against the men, although his mind still
protested their contact with him.  Eventually, the world around him grew black, fading away into darkness as he lost his tenuous
hold on consciousness.


Heero stared down at his plate, absentmindedly stirring his fork through his scrambled eggs.  He had been here at Relena's home
for two days, and still he had no urge to eat, no appetite whatsoever.  Duo was all that he thought about.  How could Duo have
done that to him?  How could Duo have cheated on him?

Relena, who sat in a seat beside Heero’s, laid a hand on his arm.  “Heero, you have got to stop beating yourself up over this.  
Duo obviously didn’t care about you if he threw everything away for a fling.  If I had known how much he would hurt you . . .
I NEVER would have helped him.  I feel responsible for your pain because I was the one who brought the two of you together.”

“Please stop, Relena.  I don’t want to hear this again.”  Heero replied, interrupting another of her long apologies.  It had been the
same thing for two days now.  In almost every conversation, she apologized for bringing Duo and Heero together, for ever
helping Duo.  Heero was just tired of listening to it.

“You're right . . . I’m sorry.  I should stop bringing this up.  It’s obviously something very painful to you.”  Relena said,
removing her hand from his arm.  

Heero sighed, dropping his fork to the plate.  “I want to get my stuff today.”  He whispered.

“Are you sure?  Are you sure you’re ready to go back there?”  Relena asked.

Heero nodded.  “I have to get my stuff.”

“Well, I’ll call Quatre’s estate.  Perhaps it would be better to go when Duo isn’t there,”  Relena replied, rising from her seat.

Heero nodded.  He wasn’t sure if he was ready to face Duo again.  Although, he wasn’t even sure if Duo had stayed there or
not.  For all he knew, Duo could have moved in with Hilde.  However, Heero did doubt that Duo would move in with the girl.

Relena left the room, returning a few minutes later.  “The Maguanac I spoke to says that Duo isn’t there.  He packed up his
stuff and left.”

“Fine.”  Heero replied, rising to his feet.  He felt a twinge of unhappiness, perhaps he had wanted Duo to be there, to speak with
him one last time.  He wasn’t sure what he really wanted anymore.  “I’ll go get my stuff then.”

“I’ll call Pagan.  He can drive you.”

“Fine.”  Heero replied, not caring what form of transportation he took.  He just wanted to get this over with as quickly as

About an hour later, Heero found himself walking into Quatre’s estate.  A Maguanac greeted him at the door, and let him in.  
Heero silently walked right to his room, not stopping for anything.  Several servants, and Maguanacs pleasantly gave their
greetings to him, but Heero didn’t pay the least bit of attention to any of them.  He just wanted to get his stuff and get out.

He slowly opened the door to the room he and Duo had shared, reluctant to go in, fearful of the memories that would assault
him when he did.  He surveyed his surroundings as he stepped in and closed the door behind himself.  The room was just as he
had left it, with the exception that all of Duo’s belongings seemed to be gone.  The bed was unmade, the blankets on the floor,
drawers hanging open.

Heero stepped over to the closet, grabbing his bag from one of the corners.  Then he went around the room, grabbing his stuff
and throwing it in the bag.  As he walked over to a dresser, he stepped on something.  Almost immediately, the sound of music
filled the room, not loud enough to disturb anyone.  Heero lifted his foot, seeing a remote lying on the floor.  He must have
turned on the stereo.

Heero ignored the music that began.  He opened a drawer, and slowly began emptying it, paying no attention to the sound of the
guitar that flowed through the room.  But once the voice began singing, it caught his attention, the words sounding as if Duo
were speaking them to him . . . or himself to Duo.

You say that I am too
So much of what you say is true
I’ll never find someone
quite like you
I’ll never find someone
quite like you like you//

The rhythm of the song abruptly changed, becoming more wild.  The voices echoing in the background captivated him.  Heero
lifted an article of clothing, and his eyes caught sight of a small black box.

//The razors and the dying roses
Plead I don’t leave you alone
The demigods and hungry ghosts
God, god knows I’m not at home
I’ll never find someone
quite like you
I’ll never find someone
quite like you

His breath caught in his throat as the song continued.  It truly sounded as if he were speaking to Duo, everything he felt was
being played in that song.  He never would find anyone like Duo, never again.  He stared down at the box.  Slowly, he picked it
up, dropping his bag.  He stumbled back, sitting on the edge of the bed as he opened the box.

//I, I looked into your eyes and saw
a world that does not exist
I looked into your eyes and saw
a world I wish I was in//

Inside were two rings, rings that Heero had planned to give to Duo the night of the party.  They were silver, each had two hearts
intertwined, that opened to reveal a hidden message etched inside, using tiny magnets to keep the two hearts closed.  He had
been planning on asking Duo to marry him, on proposing that very night.  He closed the box, no longer wanting to look at them,
to be reminded of what Duo had done.

//I’ll never find someone
quite as touched as you
I’ll never love someone quite the way
that I loved you//

The last words of the song echoed the pain in his heart.  Yes, he would never find someone again.  He would never love
someone as he had loved Duo.  He shuddered, tears once again falling from his eyes at the thought of Duo’s betrayal.

Anger raged in his heart, and he stood, hurling the black box across the room, even as the song continued wordlessly.  He
picked up the object closest to him, a lamp, and threw it, breaking both the fragile crystal and lightbulb, making a noticeable dent
in one of the walls.  He continued, the anger he felt spurring him on as he made a wreck of the room he had shared with his love
. . . his life . . . Duo.

Abruptly, Heero felt himself being spun around.  A moment later a force collided with his face, forcing him to stumble
backwards and land on the floor.  He looked up, only to see Trowa standing over him, one of his fists tightly clenched.

Heero lifted his hand to his face, rubbing his sore cheek.  Trowa did pack one hell of a punch.  “What was that for?”  Heero
asked, frowning when his voice wavered slightly.

“Where the HELL have you been?”  Trowa asked, his tone seeping anger.  “I’ve been going NUTS trying to find you!”

Heero pushed himself to his feet, glaring at the young man before him.  “I’ve been with Relena.  Leave me alone, Trowa.  Just
let me get my stuff and go.”

Trowa grabbed his shoulder, keeping him from moving.  “No way!  Heero . . . what happened?”

“Simple . . .”  Heero replied, shrugging Trowa’s hand away.  “I came back, heard about Quatre, got worried and came to check
on Duo.  I found him in bed with Hilde.  End of story.”

“HOW STUPID ARE YOU?!”  He shouted.

Heero once again glared at his friend.  “Watch it!”  He warned.

“No!  You LISTEN!  How PETTY do you think Duo is?  This is DUO you’re talking about!  He runs, he hides, but he never
lies!  DAMMIT, Heero!  You think he’d throw away what he had with you for a FLING?”

“But I saw . . .”  

Trowa interrupted.  “Heero . . . you saw with your eyes, not with your heart!  Duo loved you so much that Quatre was affected
by it.  Remember what happened before . . . It wasn’t just the physical aspects of what you were doing, it was emotional, what
you two were feeling for each other.”

Heero opened his mouth, but couldn’t think of a reply.  Nothing came to mind.  He was just confused.  What if Duo hadn't
betrayed him?  What if there was another explanation?  But what possible explanation could there be?

“I thought I heard voices in here.”  Someone said, dragging Heero from his thoughts.

He looked up, only to see Sally standing in the doorway.  “What are you doing here?”  Trowa asked.

“I got the results of Quatre’s blood test.  He was drugged.”  Sally replied, stepping further into the room.

“What?”  Both Trowa and Heero gasped at the same time.

“It’s a relatively new substance. It’s odorless, colorless and dissolves quickly into the bloodstream.  It’s usually untraceable
within 48 hours of ingestion or injection.  However, in Quatre’s system it seems to have caused drastic side effects, shutting
down walls he probably didn’t even know that he had.”

“So why is he still sick?”  Trowa asked.  “Why can’t he get control again?”

“I guess because of Quatre’s abilities, unusual side effects are bound to happen.  It’s a tranquilizer, and yet it affected him so
much differently than it would a normal person.  There are probably still remnants of the drug in his system, preventing him
from controlling his abilities.”  Sally replied, then paused a moment.

“I also have reason to believe that Duo was also drugged.  He was showing all the symptoms when we were all in Quatre's room
after he collapsed.  Duo was dizzy, having trouble concentrating . . . I could go on and on.  But I feel that he was drugged as
well, although I am unsure as to what the purpose would have been.”

Heero gasped, pieces slowly falling into place.  Duo . . . drugged.  Everything was a set up.  And Heero had walked out on him .
. . He had left Duo and broken his promise.  “Oh God, what have I done?”  He mumbled, under his breath.  Thankfully, neither
Sally nor Trowa seemed to have heard him.

“Is there anything we can do for Quatre?”  Trowa asked.

“Yes, I have something that should counteract the drugs remaining in his system.  By tomorrow morning, if I am correct, he
should be back to normal, although his energy level will be at a drastic low.”  Sally replied.

“Well, come on!”  Trowa said, grabbing Sally by the wrist and dragging her from the room.

Heero followed behind them, not wanting to leave at the moment.  He was still thinking things over, wondering who would set
Duo up like this . . . wondering who would want to break up their relationship.  Besides, he was concerned for the blonde
Arabian.  Quatre was his friend, and he wouldn’t just abandon his friend when he was ill.


Trowa rushed through the halls, pulling Sally along behind him.  He glanced back, noticing that Heero also followed.  He wasn’t
surprised.  As much as Heero denied he needed friends, he had grown attached to all four of his comrades, Duo especially.  
Trowa hoped that the two of them would be able to work things out.  They both deserved happiness.

Finally, Trowa reached his goal, the room he shared with Quatre, and flung the door open.  He hurried over to the bed, noticing
Wufei sitting in a nearby chair.  Wufei stood as Trowa, Sally, and Heero approached.  Mariemaia, who still watched over
Quatre, a damp cloth in her hand, looked up at them.

“What’s going on?”  Wufei asked.

“Sally can help Quatre.”  Trowa replied, releasing his grip on the doctor’s wrist.

“Trowa, I’m not even sure if it will work.  I said it ‘should’ counteract the drug in his system.  I didn’t say it would.”  Sally
said, opening the bag that she set on the edge of Quatre’s bed.  She pulled out a syringe, and glanced worriedly to the blonde.

“That’s better than nothing.”  Trowa replied.  “If you don’t do something, he’ll go insane.”  He shifted his gaze to look at his
angel, watching the unsteady rise and fall of the Arabian’s chest.  He was extremely pale, his skin almost white, his body still
drenched in sweat.  Pain-filled whimpers escaped his throat.  Trowa couldn’t bear watching him suffer.

Sally remained silent as she stepped closer to Quatre.  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to touch you, Quatre.”  She whispered.  “I’
ll try to make it as quick as possible.”

Quatre nodded weakly.

Trowa could only watch as Sally grabbed Quatre’s arm.  The blonde screamed out at the contact, his body beginning to shiver
violently.  Sally appeared to be having trouble giving Quatre the injection, his body was just shivering too much.  Trowa stepped
forward, hoping that Quatre would forgive him for this.  

“I’m sorry, angel.”  He whispered, right before he took hold of Quatre’s arm, holding it as still as possible, while the rest of
Quatre’s body was writhing in agony, shrill cries coming from his mouth.

Sally injected the liquid into Quatre’s arm.  As soon as she pulled the needle away, both she and Trowa backed away.  Trowa
watched in dismay as Quatre once again curled himself into a ball.  For several minutes they all just watched him.  And slowly,
his body stopped shivering.

Suddenly, Quatre’s eyes snapped open.  He looked around the room, his eyes settling on each of the people around him for a
few seconds.  His brow furrowed, and he looked confused.  Trowa approached him warily, not sure what to do.

“Are you okay?”  Trowa asked.

“W-where’s Duo?”  Quatre asked, his voice scratchy.

Trowa glanced back at Heero, noticing that the Japanese youth shifted his gaze to the floor.  He turned back to Quatre.  “We
don’t know, but we’re looking for him.”

“I’ll find him.”  He murmured, rolling over so that he lay on his back.  Slowly, he closed his eyes, his breathing becoming steady
and even.

“Quatre . . . what are you doing?”  Trowa asked, worried.  He had an idea of what was going on.  But if he was right, then that
was dangerous considering Quatre’s frail state of health.

A whimper emanated from Quatre’s throat, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked to be in pain.  “Horrible . . . everything hurts .
. . They hurt him.”  He mumbled, speaking to everyone and no one.  “Duo . . . he’s suffering . . . alone . . . terrified.”

“Where is he?”  Heero asked, stepping over to the bed, concern obvious in his voice.

“White . . . everything white.  So much fear . . . needles . . . men in white, doctors.”  Quatre gasped out.  Before anyone could
say anything else, ask any more questions, Quatre’s back arched off of the bed and he screamed, so loud that Trowa had to
cover his ears.  A moment later, Quatre fell back to the bed, unmoving.

Trowa reached out, gently laying his fingers to Quatre’s throat, although he was terrified that he might still cause him pain.  To
his extreme pleasure, he found Quatre’s pulse, weak but steady.  “He’ll be okay.”  Trowa said.  “He’s just asleep.”

Trowa sat back, staring down at his love.  He hoped that his love would be okay.  There was nothing else to do . . . all that was
left was to wait.  And now that Quatre was dealt with, Trowa’s thoughts drifted to the problem of Duo.  Where was the
American?  And would they be able to find him before it was too late?  It was obvious that something was wrong, or else Quatre
wouldn’t have reacted so strongly.

To Be Continued . . .

Notes:  Those songs, are “Flames” and “Touched”  Both by Vast.  I love them both.  Fit great, don’t you think?