Word Count: 50,133

Warnings, if any: Foul language (swearing, especially on Duo's part). Shounen Ai.

Short story summary: In an ongoing war, Duo Maxwell and his rebel group are forced to take drastic measures. After the discovery of dangerous Gundam designs, he and his friends decides to kidnap Relena Darlian, daughter of the visiting Vice Foreign Minister. However, he did not count on her bodyguard -- Heero Yuy.

Other author's notes: my thanks to Leviathan for her beta assistance.

"Only five fucking minutes until the bombs go off, Maxwell! Duo, where are you?"

The exploding sound in my ear jerks me out of my reverie. Christ, this wasn't supposed to happen! I'll be blown to smithereens if I don't hurry. A sharp sting of pain brings me completely back to the present. The disk with the codes is stabbing my ribs. Fuck! I can't -- I can't botch this mission! I key in the last code of the explosions set in front of me, infrared detonator clamped in my other hand. Now I have to run like hell -- I couldn't afford the blackout I had; the schedule is tightly set. Yeah, as if Professor G would leave some room in his cramped-planned-to-the-millisecond-mission. I press the button.

The first of the carefully set up sequence of explosions goes off and the ground rocks violently. I lose my balance and fall because of the shaking; alarms are screaming in my head to get the hell out of here. So many people have already died for this disk I'm carrying. I don't have the time to be daydreaming! I start to run. The heat is increasing behind me, but I don't dare look around. My braid is safely tucked away in my black shirt, I can feel it itch because of all the sweat running down my back. Come on! People are relying on you! More explosions go off, destroying complete stories of the office building and scattering chunks all over. Sparks of short-circuiting electricity fly around and I avoid a large tube light crashing down from the ceiling. Huge clouds of dust surround me. I hear people screaming, they must have been working late. It's not any consolation that they are 'the bad guys', working for the Alliance that oppresses and controls the colonies "in the name of justice and peace". These people are not soldiers who chose to fight, they are office workers -- they don't deserve to die, no matter which side they are on. Did you hear that, Father? You would've been proud of me if you heard me say that. You always saw the good side of everyone-even the soldier who pointed his gun to your head. No matter how many times I called myself Shinigami or tested you with my belief in only the God of Death, you would still smile and talk about God, life and hope. No time to waste. I gasp for air, my lungs fill with smoke and my eyes start to water. I make it out of the building -- intact, smudged, and tired -- but with the disk. With the chaos around the building, it wouldn't be really hard to get to safety. I have a lifetime of experience with sneaking around and finding my way using the darkness in the shadows and weaving in and out of crowds. Safety lies in finding the group of rebels currently being the thorn in Alliance's side. A solid group of ten men are hiding out near the building. They have come to provide me back up or to finish my mission when something goes wrong. The smoke troubles my sight and I run in the direction where the group must be hiding. I almost scream out loud when someone grabs me by the arm, yanking me aside.

"Maxwell! Why are you so late? You could have outrun the explosions much faster! What took you so long?"

Chang Wufei is a man of few words, but the ones he uses are always carefully chosen, except when he's agitated. And he is, because he forgets I'm still wearing the earpiece connected to the transmitter he's holding and screaming into. Great, I'll be deaf in the morning. Above all, Chang Wufei is not an easily satisfied man, especially not when it comes to me. If I answer: "I was daydreaming about this perfect place in my head where everything is well" he would kill me if it was feasible, and if I answer "I don't know", he'll chew me out until he finds an answer that meets his standards. And if I live to tell it, he'll be telling me off for a few more weeks to come.

"Not now," I snarl, "get to the Underground first!"

He nods and turns around to bark commands. Whatever the situation, he's always levelheaded enough to oversee and handle it, a solid rock I have come to trust. He understands that now is not the time to discuss my late arrival, first we have to get home.

"Home" is The Underground: not really an underground in terms of a metro station, but the name for the place I chose to hide from the Alliance, a long time ago. It used to be an upper-class high society snooty suburb, but was abandoned after several military attacks. I don't know why someone would design and build an upper-class suburb on L2 of all places, because in my memory this colony has always been deprived of everything. But according to Professor G, there was a time when things were going well and even L2 knew prosperity and organized society, despite the ongoing war. He would know, too -- he's old enough to have lived through it. From the outside, the Underground looks haggard and ruined, but some of the buildings survived the attacks. We only do minimum repairs to make them livable so the roof doesn't fall on our heads. Hey, we don't have to give the Alliance nor our beloved corrupted government the impression that one of their most opposing rebel groups lives here, now do we? When people started to join me, they first opted to call it 'Hell Hole', but I objected rather strongly. I didn't want that name. Too raw. Too close. It had never been mentioned again and everybody uses now "The Underground."

The group has to split up to confuse the Alliance soldiers chasing us; an evasion to give Wufei and me a head start to get away safely. I arrive at the Underground in time, panting with exhaustion. Wufei pats me on the shoulder and asks, "Everything all right?"

I nod. We outran patrolling guards and some cops and made a few detours to make sure nobody follows us here. We jog to the building where we usually meet. People are waiting for us; hollering at us to come inside. Women and children are seeking out their fathers, brothers, or nephews in the backup group, trickling behind us. Chang Meiran spots her husband and almost topples Wufei with her tight hug. The cries of relief deafen me. Yeah, the mission was successful. People are touching me, patting me on the back or shoulder, shouting congratulations and other things I hardly hear. I see Hilde in the mass of faces, but she can't reach me through the crowd. Wufei releases Meiran, relief so plain in her eyes that it makes my gut tighten. She smiles, waves, and mouths something that gets lost in the maelstrom of people and excitement. I wave back, and with the movement of raising my arm I feel the disk. I have to get it to Professor G.

Nobody notices me slipping away from the crowd, and I enter the hallway that leads to the separate quarters of this large building. This used to be a majestic, proud university in all its glory -- but war and politics ended it. I immediately chose this building upon my arrival. If a building can be lonely, than its loneliness was screaming at me. I could tell we were kindred souls in an instant. All windows were long since broken, the curtains that once graced them ripped off and gone. Chipped flakes of plaster and stone grind under my boots. I'm half-way across the room when I notice the girl, huddled in the windowsill.

"Hey," I whisper. "What are you doing here?" I know this girl. Her name evades me, but her face is familiar. "Isn't it a little too cold to be out here, princess?"

She hugs a formless pile of cloth that must represent a stuffed animal.

"Too warm," she says. She's barefoot. The glittering in her eyes and the unnatural redness of her cheeks inform me of the burning fever. I squat down to meet her face to face and wipe away a sweat-soaked bang from her brow.

"Princess, if you're too warm, you can ask Sally to make you cool again." Stupid words. I sound like a stupid worryin' parent -- but in the Underground we look after each other.

"I dun' wanna be in bed," she huffs. "Bed's warm."

She offers me her shapeless toy and I take it, turning it around in my hands to see if it has a face. I turn the toy to face the girl and wave it.

"I think your little friend here wants you back in bed too." I win a smile from her. "He's cold in the hallway, but in your bed it's nice and cozy. If it's too warm, he wants you to call Sally and ask her to make you cool again."

"It's a she," she laughs and stretches her hands.

"Duo doesn't know that, Anna." Sally Po's voice is calm and composed, reminding me of a calm sea. "He hasn't met Mrs. Pea before."

"Nice to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Pea," I take a bow, "my name is Duo Maxwell."

"She knows that, silly," the girl answers and immediately launches into a coughing fit. Sally lifts her up with horrifying ease; I can count the ribs of her small body.

"You and Mrs. Pea are going straight to bed," she says firmly and wanders off with the child in her arms. I follow her, not certain why. I've been in the sickbay before -- hell, I'd been there whenever a mission went sour and I had wounds to be stitched or cleaned up. Reliable Sally Po, a former major of the Alliance, joined forces with me two years ago when the Underground was rapidly expanding. We hardly had anyone with medical knowledge who was capable of applying that knowledge. We welcomed her with open arms. She is a tall, determined woman who can act very stubborn, but always in the interest of her patients. Despite her past, she insists on wearing her Alliance uniform as to constantly remind herself of why she is fighting against them now. Her appearance is softened by her typical hairstyle of two twisted braids and the compassionate look in her eyes, twin pools silently seeking for the purpose of this war that I doubt she'll ever find. We put Anna to bed, even go as far as to sing her a lullaby. I know some church songs and with a creative twist of words we leave her smiling and dozing off in her bed, Mrs. Pea right beside her.

After leaving the room, I stifle a yawn and turn to Sally to bid her goodbye. I know I'll see her later in our so-called conference room when we'll gather to discuss the disk and the course of the mission.

"She is not going to make it, Duo," she says, surprising me. It doesn't take long for me to figure it out, and now I understand why the girl was in a separate room. I clench my fists. No. No! Sally doesn't cry, at least not in front of me. She'll cry in the privacy of her own room -- the tears will come, flowing down like a river that only can be stopped when this hell is over. The coded disk I carry is a big step towards ending that, if I believe what professor G and Quatre say. It burns against my chest.

"We need every single person," I croak. "Nobody is allowed to die. Children are not allowed to die."

She puts her hand on my shoulder and gives me a tight squeeze.

"I know, Duo. I know."

I fucking hate you, Shinigami! Everything, everyone you have taken away from me! Sally backs away from me. I snap out of my little reverie. Judging her face, I must have looked pretty upset... or pretty pissed.

"There must be something we can do. What do you need? Medications, blankets, syringes..."

There is an Alliance storage base near the capital city. It will take me some time, but I know my way in there. I can take Wufei or Trowa with me and we...

"I'm so sorry, Duo," she interrupts my train of thought. "This fever, the infection... I think it's a new mutated plague virus. I keep her in quarantine... we can't have a major outbreak."

"I know." I sigh. It's always the same thing. We don't have the resources. We don't have the means to produce the antidote. We don't have enough medication. We are still losing. Losing to the Alliance and losing to a fucking plague that appears silently, kills in a whisper and disappears again. You cost me my friend Solo and now you take more from me! Innocent children... bastard disease!

I hardly notice her taking her hand off my shoulder.

"You look tired, Duo," she says, visibly holding on to her own courage to keep standing upright.

"That's the understatement of the year." I try to evade her, but she sees right through me.

"Why won't you let anyone come close enough to help you?"

"I can take care of myself," I grit behind my teeth. Let go. Don't stand so close to me! Don't you know what I can do to you? Don't you know what I do?

She subsides. "Don't... don't keep doing this to yourself."

Finally she turns around and walks away from me, her retreating back disappearing from view.

"Get some rest!" she calls back, her voice echoing in the hallway.

My room isn't far from here. I start walking, mulling over Sally's words. I know she has the best intentions in mind, but I can't work with good intentions. I kill good intentions. I wonder how the hell Sally could stand so close to me, but yet again, she doesn't know everything about me.

Two stairs down. Most of the upper floors in the abandoned buildings are in weak condition and it's a rule that no one lives on or higher than the second story, it's too risky. We can't lose people from the plague; we certainly can't lose people from accidents that can be avoided. My feet are moving on autopilot. I have to find some water and clean myself up. I walk to my room and enter. Quatre, Wufei, and Trowa keep insisting that I should take a room upstairs, as this university building is one of the most solid around. I always refuse; I don't want to place myself above the people I am working and living with. Besides, I had already chosen this room when I founded the Underground -- I didn't want to move.

My room is small and contains only a bed, a table and a chest. Why have more furniture when you don't have any use for it? On the table is a bowl with water. I strip off my fingerless gloves and pick up the washcloth and try to clean my face, but the water isn't very clean to begin with . Damn weather-controlling pieces of shit! They always leave the rain out of the weather cycles, so it's always too hot or too cold on L-2, and when it does rain we have to collect the water in pots and pans to use. I leave the washcloth on the edge of the basin. I can't afford to think about it. I'm tired and I want to sleep. God, these dark clouds are killing me. The face of little Anna flashes before my eyes.

A knock on the door. I turn around, but Trowa has already entered. He is one of the few people who may enter without permission. He carries a tray covered with a linen cloth and puts it on the gray table, next to the bowl. I have to wait until he turns his head to see his expression -- for some reason, his hair obscures half his face. I sometimes fantasize just for fun how he would look with short hair or long hair on both sides, but the truth is I can't really imagine him like that. He blinks a green eye to me.

"We want you to come to the conference room," he says. It's not a request. I sigh.

"How soon?"

He softens, just a little. "Take your time. No one expects you there within five minutes. G wants to take a look at the disk first anyway."

"The..." How could I forget? My hand goes inside my black vest. He holds out his hand.

"I'll give it to G. You eat first and get some rest."

I hand him the disk, glad to get rid of the thing. He eyes it; a little transparent computer disk holding incredibly important information. So important it was apparently worth dying for.

"How are you?"

"Fine." He doesn't meet my eyes.

"Quatre?"

"He's fine. He wants to know why it took you so long to set the bombs, especially the last one."

"It wasn't something he overlooked," I immediately react. "I was just... a little absent-minded."

Not the best choice of words. He looks surprised. I know from experience that Trowa won't speak again until I elaborate. But I don't feel like explaining myself, so I tuck my hands in my pockets. Finally he gives in.

"You are very important to us, you know that, don't you?"

"What?" I did not count on something so... personal from Trowa Barton.

"You are the powerful, driving force of the Underground, a source of inspiration and strength to us all. These... absent-minded situations are probably a sign that you are overexerting yourself. I can take missions..."

"No! No missions for you!" He is taken aback of my vehemence. I can clearly see the questioning in his eyes, but understanding dawns just as quickly.

"If this is about Catherine..."

"Damn right it's about her," I blurt out. "She is your sister, your family, and she is pregnant!"

"You cannot do this all by yourself. You are the only one taking missions, taking risks!"

"There is no one else who can do it," I growl. He wants to object, but I continue, barreling forward.

"I was the one who had to tell Cathy that her husband wasn't coming home... ever. That's still the reason I take missions myself. I don't leave anyone behind if something goes wrong."

"Stop saying that -- that crap about not leaving anyone behind!"

He must be really mad if I can clearly hear the expression in his voice. I spare him a glance, but I know it hardly has any effect. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, the dark green color of his turtleneck combined with the dark blue of his jacket reminds me of a color picture I saw once of a sea. Green, blue waves of fabric. Of water. A colored picture book on Sister Helen's lap. I shake my head to get rid of the image.

"If you die, you wouldn't know how lost we would be. Why do you think your life has less worth than anybody else's? What is it with you valuing your life and yourself lower than the rest of us? Is it because you don't have a partner? Then it's sure as hell time you get one, if only to watch your back!"

"I leave..." I start and see a really pissed off look forming on his face.

"You leave us behind."

"Wha..."

"Everybody here is important, as you keep repeating over and over," Trowa calmly states. He's got me cornered. We've been over this 'partner-watching-your-back'-thing before.

"Why do you think you are less important? Why do you refuse to have a partner? What are you afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid. I just don't want... an attachment. I don't want someone waiting for me in vain... I don't want to leave anybody behind."

"You leave us behind," he repeats, "and don't think less of us. You have never done so before, so don't start now."

When I don't answer, he starts to sum up his list of possible candidates, in another effort to lure me into this 'partner-thing'. I want to howl. I don't need this shit.

"Wufei, for instance, is a perfect partner. But you have him snoop around in the bushes while you risk your ass in a factory retrieving a disk. Sound familiar? Wufei's idea of helping this group is not scouting, hunting for food, or waiting around until you deign to show up from some hot-shit mission," he adds.

"Wufei is married for Christ's sake," I answer tiredly. "When Meiran is pregnant one day, she is going to need her husband more than ever. I don't want to tell another woman that she has to raise her child by herself."

From the silence that follows I know he will not suggest Quatre or Professor G -- neither are expendable because of their organization and strategic skills. I may be the leader in name, but even I can't do everything myself. However cunning I may be, strategy and planning just isn't my forte. He is looking for a possibility to suggest himself as a partner, but hesitates. I feel sorry for him; he is one of the best I could ever think of. But like I said, I am not going to tell Catherine again that someone she holds very dear is not coming back. Life here is too hard and too risky. People are killed. People are dying out there.

I yawn.

"You're tired," he states plainly.

"Yes I am, mum."

He sees my hand moving towards the tray and reluctantly changes the subject.

"Don't let it get cold. You need it."

"I'm still in my growing years," I grin and take away the cloth. One look tells me that it has happened again. A large -- no, huge -- helping of potatoes, warm vegetables, sauce, and three boiled eggs are on the plate. I put the cloth back.

"Duo..." Trowa starts.

"Who has given up their rations?" I'm not imagining the icy tone in my voice. Even Trowa blinks and scoots away a few centimeters.

"Who?" I ask again.

"You need the food and your strength," he says, sounding a little irritated. "Duo, we have been over this before."

"I don't want people giving up their rations for me! They need the food themselves! Damnit Trowa, we can't have people growing sick or being underfed because of their... damn fucking stupid admiration for me!"

Silence falls again. He observes me from under his long brown bangs and moves a little to the side, facing the door.

"You can't help it that people here see you as their hero. They've given their rations without being forced to and they'd be disappointed if you refused. Just eat the damn food, Duo."

The door swings shut. The click is audible and resonates like a church bell in my head. Sighing, I eye the food and pick up an egg.

I slowly and unsteadily make my way to the conference room in the south wing. The children I see are playing with whatever can be found and what their imagination will allow them; the adults greet me, some with awe clearly in their eyes, some respectfully bowing. I really wish people would stop seeing me as their damn hero. I need to ask someone why they even consider me a hero. Trowa's words are resonating through my head. Sighing, I knock on the door and step into the room. Everybody is already present -- Quatre, Trowa, Sally and Professor G. Before I can ask where Wufei is, Quatre comes towards me and pulls me into a hug.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," I reply without further thought. He looks oddly at me, almost imperceptibly shakes his head, but doesn't push. I am thankful for that and turn around to face Professor G. He lacks Quatre's tact and politeness and starts fuming right away.

"Why didn't you get out of there earlier? You knew the risks! You knew how tight the schedule was! You knew how important the disk was! I had everything worked out perfectly and because you were slow it was almost blown to hell!"

"The corridors were longer than drawn in the plans," Trowa interjects. "It took more time to properly set the explosives because of the longer distance."

What the hell? Had Trowa been there, inside the building...? I don't want people walking around without my knowing it. I turn to ask him but G interrupts me.

"The plans were not outdated. He was slow! Unacceptable in missions! I..."

"Half of the building was not properly shown in the map..." Trowa continues.

"Maybe it's better if I checked him for..." Sally chimes in.

"Stop talking like I'm not here!" I almost scream. "I can damn fucking well answer for myself!"

"That's enough." Quatre doesn't need to yell, a simple rise in his voice does the trick. I can't remember if I have ever seen him mad, but when Quatre says "Enough," then it is enough. The silence that falls is bliss. I curse my pounding head.

"Duo," Great, I'm the center of attention once again. "We need you fit and in top shape."

I snort. "Yeah. And the Alliance will declare universal disarmament before the end of this year."

G hits the table with his fist.

"Quit joking about this, Duo!"

"Alright, alright, gramps," I mutter and mouth a silent "thank you" to Quatre who hands me a mug of coffee. He gives me a sympathetic look. G always acts tough as nails in the conference room -- his fanaticism concerning the Alliance is sometimes frightening, even to me. Outside, in more private manners, we get along quite well and I've learned a lot from him. When not on a mission, I went to him to be educated. He's not a professor for nothing and even though I don't care much for his lessons of quantum physics, he taught me the basic things of space and geography and more. There wasn't much room or opportunity for school in my younger days. I cringe at the thought. I'm only twenty years old and I am thinking of my younger days. I take a sip of my coffee.

"So, what's the big deal?"

G calms down. "With the codes on the disk you retrieved, we could access the files on the disks you obtained in earlier missions. This confirms our suspicion that something big is going on in L2. Howard was right."

"Leave it up to Howard to come up with a good lead," I mutter. The old man lives like a hermit at his small junkyard, but he's always good for information.

G points at the printouts of the files.

"Listen up, this is very serious. They are tentatively called Gundams." His voice is low, almost secretive. Everyone leans forward, attention focused on the professor.

"These are mobile suits based upon the old Alliance Leo-prototype, but far more developed. A Gundam is on average sixteen to seventeen meters high and weighs about seven tons. The alloy they're made of is nearly invulnerable, because of its production in zero-G. Firearms and power are incredible. Look at this --" he throws a bundle of the printouts to me, "this one is called 'Wing' and the other one is 'Heavyarms.' Homing missiles, gatling guns, buster rifle, beam saber -- and I'm not even taking the raw data from the other three suits into consideration. These suits are much stronger than the mass-produced Leo. Take a good look."

"A Gundam for every colony cluster to exercise control over everyone living there, if only for their mere presence and terrifying power." Quatre leans on the table. Trowa sits next to him with our only available laptop; data scrolling on the screen. Sally reads the information over his shoulder, sometimes gasping in shock, her eyes widening and narrowing in anger and fear.

I pick up the printouts and start skimming. "We have to destroy them all, no doubt about it."

"These are only plans, but they are very developed. We have to find out more, see if the Alliance already started building them, what plans they have to install them, when, where how. These Gundams pose a terrible threat to every colony cluster..." G's voice is slowly fading away. My full attention is pulled toward the printouts. Wing Gundam is a fucking enormous humanoid monster with a shield attached to its left arm and a beam, no, a buster rifle in the right hand that sends shivers all over my spine. What the hell is a buster rifle? Gundam Heavyarms is colored orange, but the gatling gun mounted on its left arm is intimidating. I skim more through the papers. Gundam Sandrock, destined for the L4 colony. Extremely heavy armor, equipped for heavy-duty performance on very tough environments and under extreme weather circumstances. Shenlong Gundam, a dragon-headed all-purpose Gundam that reminds me strangely of Wufei. My curiosity gets the better of me. I want to know which Gundam was designed for the L2 colony cluster. There are only designs for four Gundams. I put down the printouts and look around the table.

"...so whatever the costs, we have to... Duo, what are you looking for?" G sounds almost like his highly irritable self again, but he moves a little bit away from the table and I see a stack of papers next to him. He holds his hand above it.

"Let me see that."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't be stupid. Give me that."

He lifts his wrinkly hand and I snatch the papers and take a look at them. I suck in my breath. Gundam Deathscythe is drawn before me, a sketch rendering the image of the...

"It's the Grim Reaper," I speak. The black Gundam is vaguely similar to a samurai, with a thermal scythe in its right hand and some sort of shield mounted on its left arm. It's an image of a weapon of mass destruction, a harbinger of death... and I can see the beauty of it. The beauty and the irony of a dark soul that comes alive, wielding the scythe and slashing through everything that crosses its path. Silent and swift. A quiet death for those who scream for mercy when this demon, this monster comes for their lives and they realize they have lost. My breath is coming in hitching gasps.

I let go of the blueprint as if it burns me.

"Allah in Heaven," Quatre sighs. He hardly ever calls on the God of his religion, a sign of how shocking the news is for him. He rubs his chest absentmindedly, something he's done before. Trowa picks up the design of the Heavyarms Gundam. I see his examining look -- as a former mechanic he can really value the complicated workings of a mobile suit. But the sheer firepower of the thing sends ice through my veins.

"One for each colony cluster," he summarizes. "Each one has a basic design, somehow matching the colony. The Heavyarms Gundam with its firepower to impress the already heavily armed L3, the Shenlong Gundam with the dragon reference for the traditional oriental L5."

"And Death for the L2 colony," I whisper, and for a moment I doubt if anybody hears it. Death for the L2 colony. There is an irony in it I do not want to see and I shake my head.

"We'll talk about this tomorrow," Quatre makes the decision, seeing my reaction. "Duo is too tired and we are all shocked by the news of these Gundams. We need to think it over and adjust our tactics, after we have evaluated the consequences. We aren't going to make hasty decisions."

Nobody utters a word of protest. G picks up the design of the Deathscythe Gundam off the table, carefully smoothing the wrinkles out of the paper. He stands in front of me. When I look up, he averts his eyes and wanders off, the printouts tucked under his arms. Sally leaves the room without a word. Trowa closes down the laptop and Quatre stands in the doorway, thinking things over. I only want to sleep. Quatre he puts a hand on my elbow as I pass.

"Duo, this is far greater than we can imagine. I think we need help on this."

"Make sure Wufei is here in the morning," I answer. "He needs to be informed, too."

"Not too many though," Trowa interrupts. "We don't want panicked rumors getting spread around."

"You're right. Man, my brain is running in circles without a stop sign in sight."

Quatre snickers. "Goodnight, Duo. See you tomorrow."

Trowa raises his hand to wave goodbye. Before he passes me he whispers, "You know you can be yourself when you're with me, Quatre or Wufei. We are not fooled."

I am standing alone in the hall, listening to Trowa's and Quatre's footsteps die and I can do nothing but shrug. Out of everyone here, I have survived the longest. I have been on the streets for as long as I can remember. I survived a plague. I survived the Maxwell Church tragedy. I survived my 'no family, no home' period and a whole other load of shit. And it makes me an outsider, even among this group. Mercenaries have raised Trowa. Quatre comes from a wealthy family -- he was disinherited when he clashed with his father about their respective ideas on pacifism. Wufei... no one knows where he comes from, but one day we found him, defending his sick wife hiding out in a miserable looking shack. After we had gained his trust and helped cure Meiran, he committed himself to us heart and soul, and that's what counts for me.

They don't call me Shinigami for nothing. I was about four when Solo and his gang took me in. I was around seven when he died in my arms and the Maxwell Church offered me a home. I was eight when the tragedy happened and I was fifteen when I started my first job for what would become the Underground. Nobody has ever asked about the 'gap' in my history. I know there are some people just dying to know what happened to me in these years. They know most people can't survive on their own in L2. I was on my fucking own for almost half of my life on these streets and I survived. It makes me a fucking hero in their eyes. People joined me because they saw something in me, something that makes them trust me for bringing them shelter and hope. I wonder why I was tagged as the leader when they asked me if they could stay with me; I was only fifteen years old when I started this gang that rapidly turned out to be a resistance group.

Without further thought I walk to my room. I undress myself and slip between the worn-out jumble of blankets and sheets. I am asleep within five minutes.

Breakfast comes with tea, hardened bread, sour apples and crumbled slices of cheese. Milk is strictly reserved for the youngest children and pregnant women. The elder children are allowed to hunt for food on their own, as long as they don't wander too far away from the Underground. The only rule I impose is following the lessons I give in stealth and stealing -- yeah, I teach them that. L2 is not exactly a shopping paradise, and that food is sold on black markets, and by the exchange of food stamps issued by the government. If you don't have a legit identification, you can forget about food. Our fucking government has cooked up this identification and food distribution thing to 'make sure all supplies get equally shared', but it is only to control the citizens. To issue identity-related food stamps, they must register you in a government database. I wonder what the looks on their faces would be if I registered for their precious food stamps. I am a bit known on the colony, if you catch my drift. It takes them fucking weeks to process any request and everything gets checked three to four times. Stupid assholes. I teach the kids to steal only from merchants and shopkeepers collaborating wholeheartedly with the Alliance. There is no need to shoplift those who are brave enough to sell under the counter, provided they're not asking absurd prices. Everybody goes out together in groups; one of the basic rules is that it's dangerous to be out on your own. No stealing from Alliance storage bases either; they shoot at you. They shoot at kids. I've got the scars to prove it.

I've never been at a university, but Quatre explained once to me that this room used to be the cafeteria. We all share our food, no matter how it is obtained. Sally has meticulously set up a schedule, rotating everyone from food shopping (standing hours and hours in line to get food on forged -- or illegally obtained -- food stamps), cleaning (keeping everything in order and stored away in chance of a raid), or doing chores varying from babysitting to helping in the sickbay. Nobody joins the Underground without pulling his or her own weight. If you can't deal with that, you're out. People are looking at me when I take my place in line and I wave to the men and women greeting me, meanwhile searching the crowd for more familiar faces. Two girls nudge me forward, forcing me to take over their place. Before I can refuse, someone taps me on the shoulder. It's Wufei.

"Maxwell, care to join me?"

"Wufei, good to see you," I smile. "You disappeared on me, yesterday."

He doesn't smile and his face is void of any emotion. Not good. Without exchanging a word, he waits patiently until I have collected my portion and he follows me, still silent, to a large table.

"Maxwell, is everything okay? Do I get a briefing from the meeting?"

"Yes, yes," I answer and he scowls. "Where were you anyway? Is something going on?"

His eyes turn sad. "Noventa."

"I am sorry." I hope that my words offer him some consolation. Judging Wufei and his emotions is quite difficult, but he accepts my condolences.

"Meiran is with Sylvia, the poor girl. Her grandfather was all she had left."

"Noventa was an example for us all," I say, genuinely touched by the man's death. "He was a great negotiator and spokesman for peace." And the last one who was on speaking terms with the government.

Wufei fidgets with his wedding ring. "Maxwell, we have to make sure that everyone is properly informed of Noventa's death."

I agree. "I'll talk to Quatre about it -- he knows a lot of people."

"Thanks." He looks relieved.

We sit at one of the largest tables. The thought baffles me that this cafeteria once was filled with children. Properly clothed children, well fed and loved. I blink.

"Come to the conference room," I tell Wufei. "We need to discuss a lot of things. Dangerous things."

He raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I don't want to explain twice. Take it from me, it doesn't look good."

He agrees and finishes his tea. I know he would give a kingdom for the original tea from his home colony, just as I would die for a proper shower and some real, hot food, instead of this crumbling chemical... crap. There are no other words for it.

We rise and clear our plates. On our way out he bows to me.

"We would love to have you for dinner," he says. "Meiran has been saving sugar and flour for some time now to bake you a pie."

"Sounds good," I laugh. "Knowing Meiran, it would be a huge pie."

A small smile graces his features. "It would be a huge honor."

"Sure." I squash a self-deprecating thought. "Wufei, I..."

"Take care of yourself, Maxwell." It sounds almost like a threat. I resist the urge to crack a joke -- I have heard this tone of voice before and know from experience that joking now would not be a good idea. He waits for me to lead the way to the conference room, showing his silent acceptance of my leadership. Some leadership. I try so hard to push everybody away and still they come back. Why?

We gather to watch the daily news. The government owns and controls the only -- and therefore 'official' -- broadcasting channel with the flashing name of "L2 News". Trowa and Professor G have hooked up a television illegally on the cable. Yeah, yeah, I know, stealing and stuff, I don't care. We're not in a situation to sit in front of the TV and watch some soap operas. I've talked numerous times with Professor G about installing our own broadcasting system to show the world, the whole fucking universe, how things really are taking place on L2. A big part of our difficulties is due to cover-ups from the government, the false propaganda they have been spreading and misleading the citizens. Quatre told me once that government officials are painstakingly trying to give a good, wagging-like-a-dog's-tail image of the colony. The same colony that has dared, dares, and always will dare to stand up against the Alliance because the same government is afraid their funding and support will be cut. It could be true; the L1 colony kissed major Alliance ass, and was rewarded with a nice and stable economy and fair prosperity.

I don't care. I only want to kick Alliance ass. I don't want to pay for artificial prosperity by seeing a mobile suit in every street. I don't want to be forced to 'learn' about the greatness and majesty of the Alliance. I don't want to crawl. I don't want to wonder if my neighbor collaborates or not. That isn't freedom. Freedom is to walk around the streets without fear, without the constant presence of a military force. Without these Gundams hovering over your shoulder.

"Good morning all," I chirp and receive a collective "Good morning!" back. Satisfied, I look around; everybody's present. Sally waves to Wufei, and he pretends not to see it. Those two can be pretty bratty; the heat of their discussions rises with their temper but always guarantee good conversation. Quatre briefs Wufei on the news of the Gundams and as soon as Professor G hands him the designs of the Shenlong Gundam, he pales.

"The bastards!" He screams. "How dare they make a mockery out of this? What are they thinking by designing monstrous machines like this? And this, this design is an offense to our culture and clan! We are a proud nation, rich by tradition and this... this machine.." He almost chokes on his words, and throws away the papers.

"Idiots! Weaklings! Building machines to control people, the cowards! They won't fight us face to face, they need huge machines to trample..."

"Wufei, that's enough," Sally interrupts. "We need to talk about a solution for these Gundams, not allow our emotions to take control."

He wants to object, but Trowa cuts it off before an overheated discussion starts.

"Vice Foreign Minister Darlian and his daughter Relena are coming here."

He doesn't speak with much intonation, but I hear the turmoil behind every word. In all those years I have come to know him, I have learned how to interpret the slightest shift in his voice. He is also shocked by the news of the Gundams, I can tell. There is a lot more going on behind those observant eyes than people give him credit for. The same people who would call his voice "monotone". Not me.

"Here?" Wufei snorts, attention currently diverted.

"Not here, here as in 'L2' here," I smack him lightly upside the head. "His Excellency Doo-Dah won't be visiting lower scum, villainous suburbs like the Underground. We don't want him, otherwise he'd be givin' our hideout away."

"It'll be too dirty for him and his prissy daughter. No way, they won't be setting foot on this soil!"

I snicker. Trowa shrugs and continues to tinker with the reception of the antennae. We haven't seen any dignitary or representative of the government here for years, let alone cops or medical personnel. I sigh. The Underground is a perfect place to hide... and a perfect place to die. No one would notice, unless they were a part of us, the Maxwell's Demon gang as we're called. I drum with my fingers on the tabletop. Something's out of place here. Trowa usually doesn't voice trivialities without a very good reason.

"Why?" I finally ask.

"You can't blame him for trying. Darlian is one of the most compassionate ministers, someone who genuinely cares for the actual situation. He attends an economic summit meeting in two weeks. He's hoping to establish a free trade zone between L2 and the colonies."

"A free trade zone for what? Our national product? They want to swap whores or diseases or something?" It's out of my mouth before I have the chance to think it over.

Wufei opens his mouth to give me a lecture on bad language, but a loud crackling disturbs the atmosphere. The reception of the cable is bad, very bad. Trowa has done all he could and man, there is nothing he can't repair or adjust. I watch the hissing and crackling static screen. Quatre sits next to me and focuses on the TV.

We are in time for the daily news; a reporter babbles about the Vice Foreign Minister and his upcoming visit, showing images of the man shaking hands with representatives of various governments. Quatre tugs at my sleeve. I observe the screen. While the reporter talks about some official lunch, the camera shows Darlian, accompanied by his daughter. The girl has a dazzling smile and the confidence of a well protected, pampered aristocrat who's never been denied anything and been used to getting her own way. Her wheat-blonde colored hair is pulled back into braids, and she's dressed in a purple skirt and a white jacket. Next to her, a little to the side and somewhat obscured from view, stands a bodyguard... or boyfriend. My eyes focus automatically on him. He has the slender, but lean and strong build of someone accustomed to training intensively. He is taller than the girl, Asian descent if I'm not mistaken, and dressed in a sober, gray suit. His sharp eyes flick around to observe the environment, nothing escaping his gaze. For a moment he stares at the TV camera. Stares right at me. The next moment the camera swings away from him, but his look is imprinted on my mind. The intensity of his eyes takes my breath away. Quatre tugs at my sleeve again.

"What?"

"Did you see the girl?"

"Yes, what about her?"

He hesitates. "Yesterday, after you went to bed, we discussed the situation. We don't want to give the Alliance the opportunity to build these Gundams, no matter what. They pose too much of a threat and we can't deal with them once they're finished."

"I see."

Sally comes towards me with a mug of coffee and I thank her. Ah, the brown slosh warms me immediately.

"What does the girl has to do with it?" I ask after I take a sip.

"It's just a plan," Professor G continues the conversation. "Maybe she can serve our cause."

"How? She's a snooty girl. She's been here before and she wasn't a bit satisfied with the sheets in the hotel. Sheets!"

"Those were only rumors, Duo, you don't know the girl in person. Besides, I'm not talking about winning her for our cause, but to use her."

"You want to kidnap Darlian's daughter?" I'm not stupid. I can make connections.

The professor studies the drawings of the Gundams with accuracy. He must carry them on his person.

"Maybe."

"Kidnapping Darlian's daughter won't take the danger of the Gundams away," I sneer.

"We can only stall the building of the Gundams," he answers, "but if we abduct the girl and use her as bait, we can demand attention to our situation, and force Darlian to undertake action. We can ask for broadcasting time, announcing the news of the Gundams, and the plans of the Alliance."

I don't suggest asking for ransom -- that would be a ridiculous idea. Rebel groups aren't exactly happy with suitcases of cash. Money is worth shit on L2.

"And what if the authorities won't meet our demands?"

"I hardly think so. Darlian is too high ranked and valued by the respective governments. It would cause an international scandal if the abduction of the daughter of the Vice Foreign Minister were ignored."

"If the L2 government doesn't do anything," Quatre adds, "questions will be asked. Darlian will throw his name around. It's his daughter who.."

"No. It's not an option." I cut them off.

"Quatre and I are going to discuss it, whatever you may think," G says without a change of tone in his voice.

"Discuss it all what you want," I spit out, "I don't think our cause is better off with the girl. Too many 'ifs' and 'buts.' Too unpredictable."

Quatre looks at me as if he's in great pain. I love the guy, really I do, but sometimes these heart-wrenching looks he gives me get on my nerves. I finish my coffee and put the mug down on the battered tabletop.

"Any more news?"

"I would like a word with you, Maxwell," Wufei is quick to say. I bet he sees a lot of opportunity in this... a kidnapping proposal to prove his skills. I rub my temples. I need to teach some more children and think of a way to get more medication for the little sick ones. I have to contemplate those Gundams, and... I have to get away to my little place. The perfect place in my mind, my wonderland. Just for a bit of rest. Just to think how it could be different. If only... if only there wasn't so much to do. I realize a silence has fallen and look up.

"You don't need my stinkin' approval," I snarl. Trowa crosses his arms in front of his chest.

"You better get some more rest, Duo. Quatre and G are going to discuss details about the Darlian kidnapping."

"Looks like ya got it all planned out already." I sound disappointed, a bit indignant. I still have to ask him if he was in the building yesterday, at the moment I was about to blow it up.

Sally has been silently leafing through the Gundam designs and puts the papers away.

"You're not going to do this alone, Duo. You always go out alone, giving us some bullshit crap about not leaving someone behind. Don't you think you're wrong? We're your family and if you die, I don't know what will happen... but it will be bad."

"Death cannot die," I joke lamely. Great, all I need is another round of "think-about-a-partner-and-you're-not-going-alone," bullshit.

Sally doesn't buy it for a second. "Quit it. You're the driving force behind this group. We need you, Duo. Please don't think we're not your family. We are!"

"I know, Sally, I know." I smile; I can't help it. "Thank you."

"Everybody's more than willing to help you. We can't stand seeing you bear this alone. We understand that you want to protect us, but you've taught us to take care of ourselves. We need you to be here, Duo, we need you to lead this group and to fight for freedom. How often do we have to say this?"

"After I'm dead you will be in command," I say bluntly and I have a second to marvel where that remark came from, when Sally almost decks me.

"Don't ever say that!" Her eyes flare. "Stop that!"

I hate these emotional outbursts. I know everyone is under a lot of pressure, but I thought I had made my stand clear a long time ago. They talk about my 'not-leaving-anybody-behind-crap' as they call it, and I obviously can't get my point across. It's the only way. And even so, I kill everyone next to me, right, Shinigami?

A bit pissed, I turn my attention to Wufei.

"What was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"The same as what Sally said, and some more." He eyes me, a heated glare that makes me feel uncomfortable. "Like she said, everybody is more than willing to help you. We can take some of the missions you always carry out alone."

"You're married," I grit between my teeth. "I'll never tell a woman again that she has to raise her child alone or that her husband ain't coming back!"

"Meiran could have died before you found us. Would that make any difference? If I were alone, would you let me be your partner? You are strong, Maxwell, but even the strongest sometimes need to take a step back, to let other strong people take over."

"I don't want to leave anybody... behind..." I sound like a broken record. I can't do anything else but repeat myself. Sally shakes her head.

"You'll leave us behind. Try to trust us more, Duo. We've depended on you for a long time. Try to depend on us for a while."

"The last one who told me to depend on him was Solo, and I sure don't see him around." I cross my arms in an imitation of Trowa's pose. "He's dead."

Shinigami kills. I was the one to give Death a face. My face. The last thing Solo saw in his fever fit was my face hovering over him and he called me. He called Shinigami and he came.

"This meeting is closed." I rise. I pick up my black coat from a chair and put it on. I leave the room before anyone can object. Not that they would have objected. One look at my face was enough to shut them up.

The classes in the university building are used for teaching the children. We teach them about how life is organized here, how to tell an Alliance officer from a rebel officer, and about our objectives. They learn the basic things like arithmetic, reading, and writing. I haven't written nor read in years. I wonder if I could still remember some of the Latin phrases Father Maxwell taught me.

"Duo, are you going to tease us?"

I have to look down to see who tugs at my pants. It's a kid from one of my classes -- a little brat with a lot of audacity. His friends must be around somewhere. They're usually encouraging him to test his limits.

"Tease? Why should I tease you?"

"You know, stilts stuff," he beams at me. "Sneaking around, 'member?"

"You mean teach us and stealth stuff," I grin. "Haven't been paying much attention to your grammar classes, have you?"

"School stinks," the kid huffs, "when I grow up, I wanna be jus' like you, Duo. Always going outside, and having so many adventures."

"You'll learn," I say and ruffle his mop of hair. His eyes are blue, but not half as blue as the eyes of the Darlian's bodyguard. I'm sure they were blue, despite the fuzzy image. I couldn't forget it after his gaze burnt right through me.

Most grown-ups skip lunch as to save food for dinner. The children get something to eat, of course; it depends on how families distribute their food rations. My stomach's used to the long period between breakfast and dinner. Sometimes people bring me food; I usually accept because I'm hungry, and don't want to hurt their feelings. I'm hesitant, though, to accept what they offer me; I don't want to take food from someone who needs it more than me. They've placed me on a pedestal because of whatever... I don't want to think about it.

The classes have ended for this day, and I'm on my way back to my room. I want to think in peace about my next mission -- to get medication for the kids. I need to avoid Trowa or Wufei, before they get in my face again about the partner thing. They sure are fucking insistent when they want to be... at the wrong moment, if you ask me.

I succeed in avoiding them, but run into Quatre.

"Duo!" he exclaims, "come and have tea with me."

"Okay," I accept and follow him. He lives on the ground floor in a room that, according to him, used to be the dean's office. He should know, because he went to university before he came here. It has two adjacent smaller rooms; one for storage and one bathroom. The water isn't working -- we don't have running water, remember? But I guess Quatre enjoys his privacy even when washing from a bowl, unlike me. I stand bare ass naked in my room. I snicker softly. The large room has still some furniture left and, miraculously, an impressive wooden desk. It's very easy to imagine the dean sitting behind it, scolding disobedient students. Quatre was thrilled about the desk, it reminded him of his father's study. That man owned resources satellites like a kid owned marbles, but didn't dare take a stand against the Alliance while his son and his private army, the Maguanac Corps, fought like devils.

From what Quatre told me, he left L4 with two suitcases, and a heart filled with hatred and anger. All his ties with the freedom fighters of the Maguanac Corps were severed, something he mourns till this day. He never heard from the captain, Rashid, again. He was probably told his young master was dead. Quatre was leaving the resource satellite when the Alliance attacked; killing his father in front of his eyes. Due to the explosion of the satellite, his shuttle was thrown off course and drifted a long while out in space -- until Howard and his space-salvaging unit, The Sweepers, rescued him. These guys didn't plunder him, or take advantage of him like less scrupulous people might do. They just let him wander off. He ran rather quickly into us and spared himself a lot of difficulties out on the streets. His hatred and anger concerning his father melted away with the death of the man. Quatre sure isn't the type of guy to bear grudges for long.

He still has a wonderful beautiful pen with his father's name engraved on it, something he accidentally threw in his suitcase before leaving. A small link to his past, I guess. I don't mind. I'm far past the 'belongings' stage, and Quatre's traded and sold off lots of his things. His leather suitcases were good for a little tea set and heater he desperately wanted.

He can't live without tea, which betrays his Arabian descent. He has this little stash in the storage room and I make fun of his tea mania. All in good humor, though. I like him.

Quatre switches on the heater and invites me to sit on the ground. He has two rickety chairs, but he's used to sitting on the ground. There's carpet in this office, so I don't mind. I sit down.

"You want some sweets? I got them pretty low-priced."

I take some of the colorful candy. "Nice. How're the preparations for your birthday coming along?"

He blushes, just a little bit. He admitted to me a few weeks ago that he'd like to throw a birthday party, just like in his 'old days'.

"It's a bit trivial now, with the discovery of the Gundams. Things are dangerously getting out of hand, and here I am fussing about my birthday."

"Quatre, don't worry. We're humans. We can always use some entertainment. Your birthday is a good reason to forget about the problems, even if it's only for a little while."

"Thank you, Duo. I'm trying to get more candy, it would be a nice treat."

"They're nice," I confirm and watch him preparing the tea.

"Here are some pictures," he says, handing me a cup of tea and a bundle of photos.

I look at him quizzically.

"Why?"

"Just look at them," he prods.

I recognize the girl immediately as Relena Darlian. In this picture she wears her hair twisted in a crown-like style, dressed in blue and long, white gloves, altogether looking pretty and healthy. She undoubtedly has had all the care in the world, unlike others. The girl stands next to her father and...

"Is this the same guy from the broadcast?"

Quatre looks up, beaming.

"Yes. We don't know who he is, yet. He is always close by. Maybe some kind of bodyguard, but my guess is he's her boyfriend."

I study the picture. It's not good quality, but I can definitely make out his blue eyes, a mop of dark brown hair and a scowl on his face. I snort.

"Why are you showing me this?"

"I saw you looking at him." He grins above his cup, carefully avoiding the small crack at the rim. "Looking with interest."

"I only saw him for a few seconds! He is... oh no, Quatre Winner, don't you dare! You are not going to bullshit me with this partner thing again..."

"We're right and you know it," he states, effectively shutting me up. "Besides that, we're your friends and family, just like Sally said. It pains me seeing you so alone, Duo. Taking all these risks by yourself, no one to turn to at night..."

"You're alone at night too," I point out. "Or is there someone..."

He laughs. "You know I had an eye on Sylvia once, but well... it died before it had a chance to blossom."

"That reminds me of Noventa..." I say, but Quatre is not with me.

"There is no one in particular I am in love with or feel attracted to," he continues. "But I've got Trowa to talk to."

"Yeah, he's the silent and you're the babbling guy. He lets you ramble about everything."

"I may be alone at night, but I've got a good friend I can confide in. I want to confide in you, Duo... but you're always pushing me away."

I have nothing to say. The tea suddenly tastes bitter.

"So you're going to play the matchmaker, eh?"

He gives me that oddly painful look again, rubs his chest, and puts his cup on the floor.

"Why do you always change subject when it gets personal? You're in a lot of pain, Duo. I can feel it."

"What?"

"Who is Solo anyway?"

He's got me there. I failed to mention that I also hate emotional outbursts because, most of the time, I blurt out something about my youth.

"None of your business. Why do you keep rubbing your chest anyway?"

The look he gives me is open and full of trust. I feel queasy. Everybody respects each other's wishes to talk or not to talk about their pasts. We're good friends and there shouldn't be any need for secrets... as I've been told over and over again. I want to have a family, I crave this family thing they want to have so bad... but I just can't do it.

"It's something I was born with," he explains. "All Winners are empathic."

"You're what?"

"Empathic," he repeats, smiling. "We're able to pick up emotions, especially strong ones, from the people around us. Sometimes the emotion is so strong it hurts me. That's why I rub, it's soothing somehow."

"You're in physical pain because someone's angry or upset?"

He sips his tea. "I can't really put a finger on it, Duo. Before I left my family, it was clear to me that almost all of my sisters had the same ability. We just pick up the emotions."

"So, you can get into my head? Read my mind?"

"No, that's telepathy, I'm talking about empathy. I'm just more open to emotions, like a radio beacon or something. I sense the emotions people are transmitting and sometimes it affects me physically."

"Wow," is my intelligent reaction.

"Which diverts us once more from our topic of conversation," he points out.

I finish my tea. "Solo was the leader of the gang I used to be in. That's all."

He brings up his hand, but stops as he sees I'm eyeing his movement. "That's exactly what I mean, Duo. Your pain is so strong that it hurts me."

"I'm sorry," I stutter, baffled by his explanation of this empathy thing, and for a moment I don't know what I can do or say.

"You don't have to be sorry. I don't want to force you to do something, just to make me feel better. I just want you to be happy, no matter how corny or stupid it sounds."

"That's hopelessly romantic, coming from you, mister Ladies man, single an' sassy!"

He laughs and is still laughing when I leave his room. I feel drained. Fortunately, I don't have a headache, and I want to get some rest. I'm about to enter my room, and I realize I've kept the picture of Darlian, his daughter and the mysterious bodyguard, in my hand.

At dinnertime, Trowa Barton waits for me in the cafeteria. He's sent a kid to bring me the message, and I reward him with the last candy from Quatre. Apparently, the food patrol has been successful -- four hours of waiting in the blazing sun has been rewarded with meat and cabbage. We eat the strangest stew I've ever tasted, but in these circumstances, no one's picky.

Trowa talks to me about the price of meat on the black market, as we can't figure out what kind of meat we're eating. Suddenly he stops and taps my wrist.

"Why are you carrying that picture with you?"

"Eh... I kinda forgot I was carrying it," I mumble and feel a bit embarrassed when he lifts my arm to take the picture underneath my sleeve.

"The Darlians. Are you seriously considering kidnapping them?"

"No. Quatre gave me the picture. It's a bad plan, and we'll probably gain nothing by it. I think G seriously has problems with..."

"I don't think it's a bad plan. It needs work, but that's what Quatre and G are here for."

"Kidnapping the daughter of the Vice Foreign Minister will only strain relations," I object. "We'll only confirm the image the Alliance has created with their propaganda, to make us look like we're the bad guys. The government will rush to the Alliance's side and cluck like some headless chicken about the 'evil rebel gangs' and we'll back where we started."

"You've got a good point, and one Professor G and Quatre certainly will consider when working out the mission details. However, we need to make a move, and fast too. If those Gundams are completed, the Alliance will have absolute power."

"The fucking things are immense," I ponder. The cabbage tastes pretty good, only a bit mushy.

"Who'd come up with such an idea to create those kinds of mobile suits?"

"Big-shot scientists, I guess. The ones who designed the Leos in the first place."

"Yeah..."

Trowa studies the picture. "The Alliance is too big to tackle on our own. We need all the help we can get."

"I know."

We eat slowly. There is no need to devour the little food we have -- you'll get hungry faster.

"We need more information," I tap the picture, "not only about the Darlians, but about him as well. Who is he, and what is he doing so close to Darlian?"

"We're right on it, Duo. We're using our network, also for rumor control."

"You heard about Noventa?"

"Yeah. I believe Meiran is with Sylvia now, and Quatre certainly will offer her some consolation."

"And some tea," I quip, and he smiles -- a slight upper movement of his lips, but certainly a smile. Quatre's tea addiction is a common joke. Trowa fiddles with the picture. There is obviously something bothering him. I don't ask him about it. I don't want to hear another lecture about teaming up with a partner, or about people feeling left out because they don't get missions. They have family. They have relatives. They have each other. Shinigami has isolated me. Death is a solo mission.

The conference room is cold. Thanks to the unstable weather control system in L2, it's either too cold or too warm. Today, someone has put the 'warm' button too high. The night cycles are always cold, no matter what. Quatre and Wufei are filling an old barrel with dirt, mud and wood. A package of matches lies on the table.

Sally stands away from the men, but not to avoid conversation with Wufei. Her shoulders are slumped, and when she turns her head, she looks defeated and worn-out.

"Sally, everything okay?"

"No," she answers. "Anna."

That's enough. The girl with Mrs. Pea. She's dead.

"I... I'm sorry." A lump of bile rises in my throat. It's the third time I have to say that I'm sorry. Words can lose meaning if they're repeated too often.

"There was supposed to be a shipment from the Red Cross today," she tells me, the expression on her face changing from sad to angry. "It never arrived, but the newscast showed a reporter telling about all the enthusiastic people receiving medical supplies! Bastards!" She snarls. "Motherfucking bastards... how can they lie like that... how can they lie like that?"

She collapses, and the tears start to flow. Nobody utters a comment. I step forward and hug her. Everybody's silent.

Quatre Raberba Winner saw the Alliance kill his father in front of his eyes. Chang Wufei told me he saw his own colony explode, supposedly because of breached hulls, but in reality to prevent it from being blown up by the Alliance. Trowa Barton was too young at the time to recall it, but he and his sister Catherine were witnesses of a terrible car accident that killed both their parents. The careless Alliance officers, responsible for the accident, left the two kids standing by the smoking wreck. The kids were separated because of the mercenaries who found them. They took Trowa up in their ranks, and shipped Catherine off to some traveling circus. We've all shed tears. We've all seen each other cry. We offer consolation while we wrestle with our own demons, our own pasts, and our own memories of violence and injustice.

Sally calms down after a few minutes. Quatre and Wufei have lit a small fire, and the warmth spreads slowly. Professor G is silent, as usual. I stopped wondering what he thinks a long time ago, and I don't care, as long as he doesn't judge Sally in her moment of breakdown. Not everybody can act cool and composed the whole time.

After a while, Quatre takes control. "If you don't feel well enough to attend the meeting, we can always brief you afterwards," he suggests.

Sally takes part in all our meetings because of her valuable input in matters. She has the same, practical levelheaded attitude as Wufei; I can't figure out why they clash so much. Major Sally Po left the Alliance to start her own rebel group; she was arrested when she tried to blow up a mobile suit factory. She was dumped on L2, to spend the rest of her life in one of the prisons or labor camps. Yes -- I mean labor camps posing as 'correctional institutes'. Sally never told me exactly how she escaped; but her lone arrival in the Underground says volumes to me.

"I'm fine, Quatre, thank you. Thank you, Duo," she says, smiles weakly and takes a seat. She puts her hand on the table. "We can continue."

"Very well." G rolls out blueprints, covering the tabletop. 'Colony Star Hotel' is written in block print on the top.

"Darlian and his daughter reside in this hotel during the meeting. Study this map, Duo, you need to memorize every corner and hallway possible."

"I can't believe you're really going ahead with this plan," I snort, "You should be planning on how to destroy the Gundams."

The professor smiles -- a creepy sight, and now I remember why I didn't want to see him smile again. The man is a fucking fanatic -- he sees things in a very different way, and calls it 'logical thinking'.

"Darlian is highly ranked, and can use his influence to stop, or at least stall the mobile suit production. He will get his daughter back -- after he agrees to help us. This is an opportunity we cannot afford to miss."

"It won't work," I object. "The situation is too unpredictable." Maybe I shouldn't have turned my gang into such a democratic organization. Most votes count. I really don't like this plan, but I can't think of any alternatives at the moment.

"We need more details on the latest mobile suits production," Quatre continues, "but intelligence shows us..."

"Speaking details..." I interrupt him, waving the picture I snatched back from Trowa.

"His name is Heero Yuy." I jump up. Trowa has managed to sneak up on me.

"My contacts do not confirm him as Relena Darlian's fiancée or anything else... romantically involved with the girl. As far as they know, he is on the payroll for bodyguard services."

"And?" I say, after catching my breath.

"Japanese origin, born on L1, and moved to Earth at his fifth, at request of his guardian. He speaks five languages fluently, and has graduated cum laude from university. After his graduation, he started working for the Darlians, and has been with them ever since. He's mastered several forms of martial arts, and has successfully foiled various murder attempts."

"Sounds like an one-man-army," I mutter under my breath. "Waittaminute.... Heero Yuy? As in ' the Heero Yuy'?"

Trowa shrugs. "Not many people go by the name of the murdered pacifistic spokesman of the colonies." Tell me about it. Heero Yuy's death, twenty years ago, threw all the colonies into chaos and marked the beginning of a violent war.

"Interesting." I can't think of anything else to say. Silence falls.

"What?" I ask.

Quatre snickers. "That was so unlike you, Duo. Are you sure you don't need more rest?"

I flip him the bird and he laughs.

"Just kidding, just kidding..."

"Still, it's an interesting choice of name," Sally chimes in. "Trowa's contacts think he's about your age, Duo. As he said, this Heero moved to Earth when he was five, which means he's been living there for more or less fifteen years. I wonder if he knows the historical significance of his name."

"After the assassination, a lot of colony kids were named Heero, in honor of the man." I drum impatiently with my finger on the picture.

"True, but also his surname? His parents were called Yuy as well?"

"My contacts told me he has no parents left. Apparently, he's a war orphan. He came to Earth at request of his guardian." Trowa frowns. "The name was Jay, or something."

We're all startled by the sound of a mug shattering on the concrete floor.

"Damn!" G mutters. "Sorry, I didn't see it." He tugs at his sleeve, drenched with coffee.

"Did you get it on your skin?" Sally approaches the professor, looking at his wrist. The liquid is still hot; the vapor cringles in the air.

"No, no," he sounds extremely irritated, "the cloth absorbed it. Bah, what a waste."

We help him pick up the bits and pieces of the mug and leave the coffee to dry. One stain on the floor is not really worth bothering.

"Okay, back to the drawing board," I exclaim. We gather around the table, and Quatre focuses immediately on the blueprints.

"We need information about the security, which rooms the Darlians reside in, the tour program, closing and opening times..."

"I know someone at the hotel," Trowa thinks out loud, "I can try to get a job as dishwasher, or I can take over his shift if I offer him the right price."

"You can't call in a favor?" I frown. We need to be careful with our supplies. Money is worth shit on the colony; I'd rather have someone 'paying' me with stuff like candles, matches, blankets or bottled clean water, than paper money. It's even better if someone owes you something; this world runs on IOUs and favors.

Trowa shakes his head. "No, unfortunately not. Even so, he's going to risk his own job by allowing me to take his place."

Quatre goes on. "Like I said, we need to check out the hotel. The security, the guards, the shifts. How many of them are there, how long are the shifts, who is close to Darlian and his daughter. I think Trowa's the best choice for this job, don't you think so, Trowa?"

"I'll take care of it." He nods and turns to me.

They want my approval. Quatre tries to take the lead, to relieve me from the stress and the pressure. I have to thank him, really... but I see Catherine in my mind and her horrid stricken face when I brought her the news of her husband not coming back... ever. Remember, Shinigami? You stood next to me and laughed out loud when the bullet hit him. At least you had the decency to kill him quickly. He didn't suffer. He was my first partner, my friend, and I had to tell his wife he wasn't coming back. I will not be the one telling her that her brother also won't be coming back.

"Don't forget, I'm the Master of Infiltration, O Master of Stealth," he says jokingly, but his voice is strained. The tension in the room increases. He has executed similar missions before, he knows the risks and the dangers -- he is the perfect one for this job, and by denying him this one, I deny him and his abilities. That doesn't mean I have to be happy about it.

"Okay," I agree, albeit reluctantly.

"Thank you, Duo."

"Wufei, you help him." I don't miss the eager look on the face of my other friend. I can't help but shudder a little. They really want to take this mission, really want to relieve my burden. I want to so bad... but I'm the only one without family. No one will wait for me when I'm dead. I won't leave grieving people behind. I'm alone, and nobody comes close. Because I am Shinigami and I kill whoever is close.

"One condition, though." I raise my hand.

"What is it?"

"You do the scouting, the recon, the works," I say. "But I'll be the one abducting the girl. No objections, understand?"

"Duo, that's the most difficult part."

"Get your ass to that hotel, and make sure I get the best information possible," I tell him. My tone does not leave any room for argument.

They understand. Wufei honors me with a bow before leaving, and the door slams shut. I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling slightly irritated.

"I can't believe we are going ahead with this shit."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures." G helps himself to a new cup of coffee. I could use some of that caffeine right now.

"We are not going to harm the girl," Quatre addresses Sally, but his words are also meant for me. "By kidnapping her, we're going to force them to pay attention to our objectives. We will spread the word about the Alliance plans, and the Gundams, worldwide. We'll stop them right in their tracks."

The determined look on his face remembers me that Quatre has come a long way from a 'son-of-the-Winner-family' to a dedicated and organized leader. He has a strong character to begin with -- forceful, and unwilling to bend to whatever difficulty. I leave the planning stage of missions to him. I insist on doing the execution myself; to keep everyone else from putting themselves in danger. I have to talk to Catherine about her brother.

"Isn't there something else we can do about the Gundams?"

G looks at me, as a teacher would at a very dumb student.

"We have discussed many possibilities, and we are open to any suggestion, Duo. At the moment, we think revealing these Gundams as the latest tyrannical move of the Alliance is the best thing. There are too many unstable factors for now. We don't know how much they have progressed in developing the machines. We are fortunate enough to have discovered these plans as it is."

For the first time in years, I don't have an answer ready.

Colony Star Hotel is one of the most the tackiest hotels you can imagine. From Trowa's descriptions, I learn that it's a solid, rigid four-story building with red and golden carpeting, flowery curtains and wallpaper, wooden furniture, and metallic lamps. I study the blueprints of the building with accuracy; my life is going to depend on my memory. The basic plan is to approach the hotel from the west side, and to infiltrate the room of the Darlian girl by climbing up to her window. I need to know every nook and cranny in the hotel.

Wufei also studies the plans. It makes me feel uneasy, and sometimes sad as I see the sparkling, enthusiastic lights in his eyes. My Chinese friend is not stupid -- he doesn't laugh at danger nor does he underestimate the risks. He's eager to help me and he's really in his 'fight-to-protect-the-weak' mode, as I call it, but not to mock it.

Trowa reports as dishwasher every day; the personnel at the hotel have worked overtime to prepare everything for the visit of the Darlians. Trowa also reports that he has seen Heero; he has inspected the prepared rooms, and checked security measures.

After the arrival of the Vice Foreign Minister and his daughter, Heero is always close by the Darlian girl, glaring everybody even looking in his direction away. While the Vice Foreign Minister is pretty modest and easy, his daughter rapidly establishes a bad reputation. She is the object of many conversations, as she has sent plates back to the kitchen -- twice -- that weren't clean enough in her eyes, and she complained about food and the bed, overlooking the fact that not everybody possesses the same frilly pink cushions and mattresses as she does.

"She acts like she owns everything, and she's convinced her prince Heero will save her if someone stands in her way," Trowa mentions when we are discussing at Quatre's, "yet she is always friendly to the personnel, but her manners! Today she complained that the windows weren't clean enough."

"Sounds to me she's bored out of her mind," I say. Quatre has invited us both for tea. Tomorrow will be his birthday, a nice change of events. I bought him new teacups on the black market; it took me some cajoling, but I got it for two food stamps. I've asked Trowa what he got Quatre, but he refused to tell me.

"I think she doesn't realize that not everybody can live to the same standards she has. I believe this is only her second or third trip to outer space, and she comes from a very protected environment. No wonder she measures everything by her own perception of things."

Quatre offers us more tea and I secretly hope he will treat us candy as well. It tasted good.

"How are the mission plans going?"

Quatre scratches his head. "G is not very cooperative," he admits. "He's uh... absent-minded, like you were before. He hasn't come up with details for this mission until now, but keeps on rambling about the importance of destroying the Gundams."

"Strange." I drink my tea. Great, chamomile again. Yuck! I swallow. G and I aren't that close, but friends nonetheless, and lately he's been avoiding me. We used to see each other outside the meetings and briefings, and he liked tutoring me.

"Very strange."

Trowa fiddles with his teaspoon. "We don't have much time. They'll leave in four days, after Darlian has met the last of the representatives of the government. Some sort of sightseeing tour is scheduled for tomorrow."

"Sightseeing..." I blow away a strand of hair dangling before my eye. That tour won't include the remains of bombed hospitals and houses, nor the factories and schools hastily abandoned like the ones in the Underground. No government official would want to schedule a sightseeing tour in these desolated suburbs.

Quatre finishes his tea. "I will have the plans ready by tomorrow morning, Duo, Trowa. Then we can undertake some action."

We agree. Time is running out.

The next day we celebrate Quatre's birthday; he's twenty, just like me. Or at least, I think I'm twenty. Orphan, remember? He's gone to great lengths to make it a nice, and joyful event; there is tea and lots of it, but also real biscuits, milk, and clean water for everyone, and even baked potatoes with cream filling. It must've cost him a fortune. Wufei and his wife Meiran, Trowa and his sister Catherine, Sally Po, professor G, me, and friends of Quatre are all invited into in his room, and we hug and congratulate him. He's genuinely happy with the tea cups I present him, thanks Catherine for her hand-knitted sweater, and gratefully accepts food stamps, oil stamps, and a set of matching candles from his other friends. Trowa really makes his day by giving him strings for his violin. Yes, Quatre owns a violin -- another tie with his past. After unwrapping the presents and hugging everyone, he raises his voice, and calls for attention.

"I'm very happy and grateful to see you all here," he starts his speech. "I am blessed with such good friends. The next days will be strained and stressful, but will also bring hope. I hope to celebrate my next birthday in freedom."

Applause breaks loose, and I use the excitement to make my way through the crowd to get to Catherine. She's seven months pregnant, and has the joy and pride of a mother-to-be shining in her eyes, but wrinkles of worry and fatigue are etched on her face.

"Duo!" She exclaims, and hugs me. "How nice to see you."

"How are you, Catherine?" I ask.

"I'm doing fine." No one would've guessed that she used to be a knife-thrower in a circus. She traveled to every colony until she found her brother, and claimed freedom with him, winding up here after a whole lot of misery. She met her husband in The Underground, and lost him after a mission with me. She was four months pregnant at the time, and I will always ask myself why she didn't kill me when I told her the news.

"Sylvia and Meiran are such good friends," she continues. "Sally keeps a watchful eye on me. Trowa is a big support. Do you know he crafted the baby crib? I really look forward to the delivery, but well... it has to happen and so far, so good. It will be nice to hold the baby in my arms."

"Cathy, about the upcoming mission..."

She looks at me, a thoughtful look on her face. "Trowa knows and accepts the risks, and so do I. Duo, don't blame yourself. You couldn't have avoided it. Trowa can take care of himself. It was very good of you to give him this mission."

"I know," I mumble. "I don't want to..."

"We are one large family. If he falls away, I will cry and mourn. But I will also go on, because Trowa would not want me to grieve forever. I will have the baby to think about, and the next generation who will continue the Underground. It won't be easy, Duo, but I trust he will return. As you will."

There is more nothing I can say. She has taken every word right out of my mouth. She sees my discomfort, and smiles.

"Duo, instead of worrying yourself sick about this, just let it happen. Trust in yourself, and in others. It will turn out all right."

I did not sleep very well that night; I was cold and restless. I have to be in good shape; before I attend Quatre's meeting today, I want to go to the Alliance medical supply base to 'shop' for fever medications. Sally reported four more sick children to me on her goodbye shot at Quatre's birthday party. It haunts me. Children are not supposed to die. I fall asleep, and jerk awake when the sun is already high. It's no use for me to go now -- I use the wee hours of the morning for cover.

I go to the meeting, feeling a bit irritated. Trowa has left for his work at the hotel; I don't know exactly how he obtained the job. There are probably forty others in line to take over if he doesn't show up. Fortunately, Trowa isn't recorded in the Alliance database, but you'll never know; treason is common on the streets. They kill for a job, even for one as a dishwasher.

Wufei is there, all worked up, anxious. Quatre looks serious, G almost bored, Sally wistful and I'm angry. Fucking mission!

"Thanks to Trowa, we have enough insight in the defense, and the strength, and weaknesses of the security around Darlian," Quatre kicks off, "we have pinpointed Relena's room. We're going with the plan of creating several diversions."

"I want as little people involved as possible," I object. I don't want everybody running around.

"Out of the question. This requests more force than just three people." G is seemingly back to his old self.

"What kind of diversions do you have in mind?"

"We don't have much to work with. Trowa will trigger the fire alarms. Normally, that won't work, but in this case, it's different. Darlian stays in this hotel, so the fire department will certainly come. I want three, possibly four, groups creating as much mayhem as possible. At the first sight of Alliance soldiers, they'll be ordered to return to The Underground with as many detours as possible. If that doesn't work, Trowa can set off minor detonations in the basement."

"I thought we were out?" I ask.

"You used most of our supply on your last mission." G states. The coded disk. "I gave Trowa adjusted ones. They are not really explosives-they develop smoke, when triggered."

"Okay, diversions. Then what?"

"We assume Darlian will be the first to be brought to safety, seeing the previous attempts to assassinate him. The bodyguard will probably stay at Relena's side."

"I have to deal with that... one-man-army?" Fucking great, Heero Yuy.

G drops a gun at the table. I almost jump a meter away.

"It's just a dart gun. Hit him with a dart, and he'll stay in la-la land for four hours. Use it on the girl as well."

I take the gun, and tuck it in my waistband. Geez, a psycho professor gives me a dart gun.

"Maybe he'll leave her side to check out the situation. Whatever, he can be subdued with the dart gun. Here is where you enter, Duo." Quatre points at the map on the table. "This window. Those are glass panes in wooden frames, so they can be easily lifted. Wufei will back you up to take over the girl. I'll provide you with a rope to hoist her down."

"You don't have much time," G takes over. "We have our mob trying to stall the Alliance, but as soon as the soldiers open fire, they have to split."

"Of course." I look at Wufei. His tight frown is enough information for me. He is ready.

One advantage of the colony weather controlling bastards is that they don't give shit enough about the system, and leave the night perfectly dark. No clouds, a very pale moon, pure perfect darkness. I crouch next to Wufei in the shrubs. We're thirteen meters away from the hotel. The security has been drastically increased; Darlian and his daughter pose a good target for more militant factions, who aren't afraid to pick up a gun to get their opinions across. I am impressed. Our government has dutifully realized that it's not very wise to keep security low around the Vice Foreign Minister of the Earth.

The plan is simple; in and out in only seventeen minutes. Damn G and his fucking tight schedule. Damn Quatre and his even more fucking tight planning.

I sigh, hardly audible. This mission is important. I clench my fists. Trowa has kept tabs on the daily routine of the girl, and confirmed that she goes to her room every night to 'freshen up' before dinner. It's the only time of the day the bodyguard... Heero... isn't with her, as to give her some privacy when she's busy deciding what to wear. I shake my head. I can't blame the girl. She probably doesn't have any clue about real life outside, due to her protective father and her protective bodyguard. It's all about to change. Wufei secures the piece of rope on his shoulder. He sees the girl as the tool to achieve an objective, as simple as that. I close my eyes, count a few seconds and open them. It's time. Some of our people are already on the streets outside the hotel shouting yells, trying to distract the Alliance soldiers guarding and pacing outside. A few of the soldiers comment; they get disdainful laughter and more hoots and hollers in return. Suddenly the fire alarm erupts and pierces the night with its wailing sound.

"The signal," I mouth at Wufei, and he dashes forward. We cover the distance in record time, and knock out the guards on the west side of the building simultaneously. While they slump to the ground, two men of our back up group take their places.

Wufei slaps me on the shoulder, silently wishing me good luck. I focus on the outside wall. It looks like the building is erected from bricks, predating wartime. The cement is loose and crumbly, offering plenty of space to crawl to the second floor. Ornamental ledges on the outside of the walls provide good support for my boots. I have all kinds of clamps in my pockets if necessary; Professor G has adjusted my gloves with more clamps for an even steadier climb. I pull myself up, rope secured on my upper body. I reach the second floor after five minutes, seconds counting in my head. I swing my legs over the balustrade. Thank whomever for solid, predictable, comfortable, and easy to infiltrate architecture. I hear the sirens of the fire engines; so far the trick with the alarm is working. The mob in front of the hotel increases rapidly and I hear loud shouting everywhere. I don't have time to think about it, the seconds tick mercilessly away. I'm close to the window, and I reach in my pockets for the tool to uplift the pin on the upper side of the wooden frame.

"...and there is nothing more I can offer you." I hear a male voice. Fuck! Someone is with her! I approach the window, and take stock of the situation. Relena is in the middle of the room, sitting on an embroidered stool, obviously crying. I recognize her bodyguard standing in front of her, his back towards me. His body is rigid from tension; I can see his clenched fists and his overly stiff posture. What the hell? She was supposed to be alone! Damn! Relena searches for her handkerchief, and says something that's too smothered in tears to be overheard. The bodyguard doesn't even move, but keeps his attention on the girl. This is a personal conversation. I check the pin of the window frame with my tool and hear a light 'click'. The pin is off and very slowly, very carefully, I push the window open. The thick curtain muffles the noise, and I silently position myself between the window and the curtain.

"I just... I just can't believe..." Relena says between her sobs.

"Relena, I understand that this is difficult to take." His voice... his voice sounds nasal, bored maybe, but I recognize the same intonation Trowa always uses. People like Quatre, and me show our emotions through every word we speak; but not everybody allows their voice to reflect their emotions. I stand as still as a statue. The bodyguard obviously has no intention of leaving, even with sirens, alarms ringing, and people panicking. He must be extremely levelheaded. Great .

"Don't move." I sound like a confident burglar; I'm surprised.

He turns around quickly, and I stare in the bluest eyes I've ever seen. A blue that his fuzzy picture couldn't show me. Cobalt blue, ocean blue... I can't find a proper comparison. Blue to drown in, blue to die for. They scream 'danger' at me and yet I stand still, in petrified fascination.

"What the hell? How did you get here?"

I yank the gun out of my waistband, and I point it at the girl. Her eyes grow wild, and she gasps -- I probably don't have to stun her, she'll faint within seconds.

"Lie down and shut up," I bark. "Get on the floor, now!"

He disobeys me, and doesn't move. His eyes rake over my body, judging me as if to classify me and to determine which or what threat I pose.

"Get on the floor or the girl gets it." I'm holding a dart gun, but a gun nonetheless. My voice rumbles. My mood has taken a swing for the worse. Reluctantly, he lowers himself on the carpet floor, even in this movement without taking his eyes off me.

"Stay there!" I snarl. I focus on Relena. "Come here, girl."

"What?" She shrieks, trembling hands rising to her face.

"Move!" I yell. "There is no time for this!" I take a step forward to yank her arm. I'm almost thrown off balance when an explosion rocks the building. I waver with the gun, and Relena falls to the ground, crying out in fear. In the moment I look at her I detect movement from the corner of my right eye. The bodyguard! He's jumping towards me! In a split second decision I aim, and fire. He freezes in mid-air, in his jump to catch me with his long, outstretched arms, and collapses on the floor. He raises himself, hand clenching his right arm.

"Who are you?" His voice is low and demanding, growling like an animal about to be caged.

"Just remain calm and nobody gets hurt," I answer, steadying myself. Relena crawls on the ground to kneel beside the bodyguard, and tries to check his injury. The small dart sticks out from his upper right arm, and bleeds slightly; the narcotic substance rapidly finding its way to the vein. It will work within thirty seconds. With surprising display of strength, he shoves the girl aside, jumps up from his kneeling position, and launches himself at me, his numb arm swinging, his good arm reaching for my throat.

"You haven't had enough?" I fire again. It hits him in the upper right thigh, and for the second time he collapses on the floor, but this time he doesn't rise.

"Stop it! Why are you shooting him?" Relena Darlian hurries again to the side of her fallen bodyguard, spreading out her arms as to block me from hitting him.

Fuck! This is taking too much time! Eight minutes and counting... The smoke explosives were my last call -- I have to get out of here and fucking well fast too. There is no way she will cooperate to go down to the ground floor. She's clad in a pink and light purple dress, smocked with lace and embroidery; it wouldn't survive the descent without being ripped to shreds. Without further thought I fire at her, the last dart hitting her arm, and she sighs audibly before collapsing. Wufei is at the window, whistling like a madman.

"Come on!" He whispers. The smoke creeps under the door and I hear shouting. They're coming for her and the bodyguard; they've probably brought Darlian to safety already. With one swift movement, Wufei scoops up Relena, and slings her over his shoulder, losing her bow in the process. He moves towards the window, and is already halfway out. I hesitate. The bodyguard lying on the floor. Heero.

Rattling at the door. Frantic knocks.

"Miss Relena! Mister Yuy! Come quick! Open the door, please!"

Time has run out. I grab Heero at his upper arms, sling him over my shoulder just like Wufei did Relena, and haul my ass out of the room. Climbing down, I hear the tearing sounds of a door being forcefully opened, followed by surprised screams. My mind works at double speed, and my body at quadruple; it's not easy descending with a dead weight on your shoulders. Down on the ground, we hurry with our burdens to the getaway truck. Wufei doesn't comment when he sees me with Heero on my shoulders, but his eyes are visibly displaying question marks. I ignore him, and I know I will have to endure an "endangering-the-mission-what-were-you-thinking-by-bringing-this-guy-anyway" rant later.

It doesn't matter. We hurry to the truck, climb in, and give the 'go!' sign. We leave the premises as fast as the vehicle can carry us. Wufei closes the grate between the driver's space and, the freight compartment. He puts the girl on a stack of old coats and blankets, and spins around to face me. The bodyguard I am carrying weighs a ton, and I drop him with a whole lot less elegance than Wufei did Relena.

"Why did you bring him?"

I feel a headache coming on, but Wufei deserves an answer. Before I can talk, he launches right into a lecture.

"It was endangering the mission! Maxwell, I thought you had better sense! We do not know who he is, what he can do, and it is dangerous to bring someone like him here! We only need the girl!"

Outside the noise is swelling to a pandemonium. Citizens and civilians have mingled with our group, and use the opportunity to vent their own grievances and frustrations. The Alliance soldiers are having a difficult time pushing the people back, and it looks and smells like a real fire has broken out. This is getting out of hand -- this is turning into a massive riot, and it won't be long before the mobile suits come to regain control with ultimate force. The truck has to drive slowly through the angry crowd; this is not good.

"We have to go back," I say.

"To bring him back? It's way too late now, Maxwell!" Wufei is highly irritated. He is not happy with the course of the mission.

"No, for Trowa!" I growl. Fuck! "He isn't going to make his way through this, and if the mobile suits are deployed..." My fear is confirmed when the ground rumbles with the weight of Leos. The moonlight falls on the fucking huge machines, and when it comes to my mind that a Gundam is so much stronger, and is able to carry more and powerful weapons the goose bumps on my arms multiply in seconds. It's a scary thought. The truck begins to sway.

"Hold on!" the driver yells. "We have to move fast or we'll be stopped!"

We both scramble to steady ourselves. We take a position to keep our victims from moving and shoving through the truck. Heero's head lies on my upper leg, and he snores softly. It would be endearing if we weren't on the run. Wufei's face is grim. He's prepared for everything that might come, and if it's necessary, he will fight to the death.

My proverbial luck of Maxwell's Demon is with me tonight. We manage to escape, though it's painstakingly slow. Too many people are obstructing the road, seizing the opportunity to loot the stores. Police officers and firemen are nowhere to be seen; it's dangerous with the raging violence of the people on the streets. The Alliance is too unorganized and bureaucratic to react quickly and efficiently on a riot; hopefully with the sound of approaching mobile suits, the mob is wise enough to run and hide.

The driver drops us off one mile before the Underground, and drives away in the opposite direction. Wufei hoists the girl again; I do the same with the bodyguard. We walk in complete silence. I don't want to have to justify myself for bringing Heero. I'm the leader of this gang, and though I hardly call on my 'power', the final decision is in my hands. It was my decision to bring Heero along, and if anybody asks me for a reason... I don't know the answer.

It takes half an hour before we see some lights. Good ol' Hilde and some other rebels have gone out searching for us. She's so relieved she embraces me.

"God, Duo! You made it back!"

"What is it, Hilde?" I shift my burden. She looks at me quizzically, but answers my question. "We intercepted some emergency frequencies. From what we heard, there's a massive riot going on. The city's burning, and we were afraid you wouldn't make it. Quatre, G, and Sally are frantic!"

"Let's go inside," Wufei interrupts us. Hilde walks next to me when we enter the Underground, and we pass the first abandoned houses. Her reaction strengthens my resolve. I leave no one behind. Some of our back-up group, who initiated the skirmish, have already returned, and cheer when they see us. A group of women, obviously waiting, rush to us to ask for information. I spot Catherine immediately. Her eyes are filled with fear, I couldn't ask for more. Trowa hasn't returned... yet. If you have taken him, Shinigami, I will make sure that.. My thoughts are lost in the sounds. G, somewhere behind Catherine, leaves the area after satisfying himself that his mission was carried out successfully. Quatre approaches me while Chang Meiran hugs her husband, despite the girl he is carrying.

"Duo! You're here!"

"Present," I grin. "Mission accomplished." I turn my head to look for Catherine, but she has disappeared. Before I can ask about Trowa, Quatre cuts me off.

"We have a room secured for the girl... but I see we need another room."

"Eh, yeah," is my comment, and for a moment I swear Quatre grins at me.

"We'll discuss this later," he belies my thoughts, sounding stern. He turns around, and issues orders like a general. In contrast to the Alliance, we are organized -- thanks to him, and Sally in particular. Everybody who has no business elsewhere scrambles to carry out the orders.

Wufei is being lead with his charge to the original secured room. I see Hilde again, and flash her a V-sign. She waves frantically back and moves towards me, but another woman demands her attention rather loudly. Heero gets heavier with the minute, and I follow Quatre to a basement room in the university.

"From what Trowa told us, he's an one-man-army, as you put it, Duo," he says. "This room will do for now. I have guards posted here."

"Did you hear anything from Trowa yet?"

"No. But he'll return, I'm sure of that."

"I hope so," is my meek response. Quatre looks at me with his blue eyes. Also blue eyes. Why does every man around me have blue eyes? They reflect every possible emotion... especially from an empathic person like Quatre.

"What did we tell you about trust and trusting us?" he asks.

"No offense Quatre, but you're planning missions in a shelter with a roof over your head, and a cup of tea present," I snap. "You're not on the streets. It was really getting nasty out there. Citizens, and civilians were meddling and it turned into a riot, as you heard. If Trowa hasn't made it out of the building fast enough, he'll get caught in the mass counter-attack of the Alliance. Need I say we encountered mobile suits on their way to the city?"

He draws his mouth into a tight line. "We'll watch the news later on."

He walks away, and I curse my rapidly pounding head, and myself. Think first! I am right, though -- Quatre Winner is used to thinking out his plans in the relative protection of his room -- he doesn't see, nor encounter the people outside on the streets. You can plan the mission specs as much as possible -- but you can't predict human reaction. I dump Heero unceremoniously on the hard floor. This room isn't that far located away from my own, and it was used for storage purposes. The walls show visible signs of once attached shelves and racks. The wood has long been since removed, and it's been stripped of everything inside. The small row of windows on the east side is too small to let a human or even a child pass through, but provides a little bit of fresh air. Heero lies in front of me, on his back, his head lolled to the side. His white blouse is torn at the upper side of his right arm, and a bit spotted by the blood caused by the dart. A stain on his spotless image. He breathes evenly, chest rising and falling. He'll be in a nightmare when he wakes up.

I almost cry with relief when I see Trowa in the conference room, four agonizing hours later. I was so worn down from the mission that I took a little nap and when I woke up, there was warm food waiting for me -- a large helping of potatoes, and some chicken meat. I think it was chicken, anyway. I hug Trowa, and pat him on the back. The tension is lessened with his return. Quatre's also relieved. Wufei compliments him, and Sally simply smiles. G stands in the corner of the room, gazing at us as if he doesn't belong to the group.

"Where were you? How did it go? How did you get out of there?" I hurry to ask him.

Trowa quirks a smile, he looks a little bit smug.

"After setting off the fire alarms, I went to the basement to detonate the smoke bombs. I wasn't bothered because of the panic and confusion. They went after Darlian first, and brought him to safety. After the minutes elapsed, I set the bombs and went upstairs."

His eyes turn sad. "Alliance soldiers were already in, hindering the fire-men. It was pretty obvious the alarm was set off on purpose, and they were frantically searching for the one who pulled the stunt. I played stupid; me being only the dishwasher. Fortunately, I had drying cloths with me, so they swallowed my story. I was ordered to go to the kitchen and stay there with the other personnel until they came for interrogation."

"Interrogation?"

"Two guards on the west side of the hotel weren't responding properly. They were pretty fast aware that something wasn't right."

"What about our men?"

"I haven't heard from them after the smoke bombs went off," Trowa says. He slumps his shoulders. "Alliance soldiers started to fire at the mob outside, and it went out of hand. All kinds of reports were coming in: looting, fire, and people obstructing police. The military didn't know where to give priority to after they brought Darlian away. People were everywhere, and after the soldiers discovered Darlian's daughter was gone, it went straight to hell. I took advantage of the commotion to get out."

"Well done," G applauds, his voice scratching like nails on a chalkboard. "Nice to know that someone sticks to his mission specs."

Trowa turns to me, clearly confused. "What? Were you absent-minded again?"

Before I can answer, Quatre decides to come to my rescue.

"Duo decided at the last moment to bring the bodyguard along." He looks at me, eyes dead serious, but also with this strange trust . "I know Duo doesn't do something without a good reason. If he thought the bodyguard weren't important, he wouldn't have brought him. Am I right, Duo?"

Joy of joy, that's all I need. Quatre asks me for an explanation in front of everyone. I rattle out the first thought to pop up in my mind.

"No witnesses. It would be suspicious if we left him behind. By taking both of them, we demonstrated our... uh.. possibilities to..." My voice trails off. They look at me as if I've grown a second head. Trowa shrugs, his calm way of acceptance. Sally looks like she doesn't know if she should laugh, or just tell me I'm plain stupid. Quatre has this strange, startled expression, but I see the corners of his mouth crinkle upwards. I'm glad Wufei isn't here; he would have told me off, just like our previous mission. I'm surprised G isn't using the moment to fully express his displeasure with me; lecturing me about the dangers. In fact, when I look at him he stares at me with a strange, almost sad look in his eyes.

"G?" I finally ask.

The professor seems to be shaken out of his thoughts.

"It was very dangerous, and I don't see why you should have brought him." His voice lacks the sharpness of his earlier remark. Silence falls. G's been acting pretty strange lately, and I wonder if I have to talk to him. Sally decides to put in her two cents.

"I hope he won't pose a problem, Duo. It really was reckless, taking him with you. Well, there is nothing we can do about it now, obviously. He's here, and I'm going to check on the two of them to make sure there are no side effects from the tranquilizers."

"I'll call for two more men to accompany you." Quatre offers and rises from his chair.

"I'll go with you, Sally." I'm curious about our captives. Sally nods. Nobody questions my authority, and professor G even averts his eyes. I decide I really have to talk to him. Outside in the hallway, we encounter Wufei who volunteers to go with us, and we walk to the north wing of the university.

Relena Darlian is awake when we visit her. She is being held in a fairly large room with barricaded windows, and with only one guard at the door. I seriously doubt the girl will attempt to escape, seeing her earlier frightened behavior.

"Who are you?" She screams when we enter the room. Sally approaches her, and she flinches hard and jumps away, sending her chair crashing to the floor.

"Don't touch me! Go away! Where is Heero? Where am I? What do you want from me?"

Her voice isn't really pleasant at this volume, and the fearful cries hurt my ears. Wufei glares at her.

"Stand still, woman, and let the doctor examine you."

"Doctor? Examine? What did you do to me? To Heero?" She finally spots me, standing behind Wufei, who is a bit taller than me.

"You!" She screams, as she would possibly do seeing a terrible vile bug. "You did this to me! What do you want from me?"

She stands still as ordered, probably because it's a woman. Sally examines the place where the dart entered, and pulls back the clothing.

"Everything is fine," she says, and starts to leave the room. Relena yanks at her arm, crying.

"No! Don't go!"

"Please stay, Sally," I ask the doctor. As another female, she can provide a bit of comfort to the girl. I focus on her.

"Relena Darlian, you're in the Underground with the Maxwell's Demon Gang, as we're called. I'm Duo Maxwell, this is Chang Wufei, and the good doctor here is Sally Po. We're a resistance group, and I'm sorry to inform you, but we want to use you, and the influence of your name for our plans."

"What the..." Her eyes couldn't get any bigger. "Resistance? Demon... What?" Tears start to form in her eyes. "Father... where is Heero? Why... why did you do this to me? I..."

"I would offer you some water, but our supplies are limited." Sally is her old, practical self. "However, I will make sure you get something to eat and to drink. You will stay here, until our goals are met, as Duo will explain to you."

"Goals...what... you want to ask ransom for me?" She isn't stupid. Her mind already races to adapt to the situation. Her tears stop flowing and she rubs at her face to remove the stains.

"No ransom," I explain. "Sorry, Relena, but we want to use you to get attention for our situation."

"What situation?" She baffles me with her question.

"Nothing really serious," I answer, sarcasm dripping from my voice. "The Alliance oppression of the colonies. The social chaos created by the stupidity of the same Alliance, when they severed communications between colonies. Their counter-attacks with violent military force to every possible objection to their so-called reign of peace and justice. That situation."

"Alliance oppression..." She repeats it, tastes it like something completely new. She narrows her eyes to slits. "Father came here to help you build a new society. It's widely known that you can't take care of yourselves!"

"You better watch what you say around here, pretty lady." I raise my voice. "People here have suffered immensely from your precious Alliance. If you just shut up, and let us have your way with you, no harm will come to you."

"I want to make a phone call," she demands. "I want to contact my father. I want to see Heero."

"We don't have telephones, lady," I answer her tiredly. "Electricity is cut short on the colony after ten. We don't have working telephone terminals. We'll get in contact with your father to let him know you're safe here, and then we'll let him know about our demands."

"This is an outrage! You expect me to stay here?"

Wufei leads Sally out of the room. "You don't have a choice." It's all he says, but it serves to quiet her. She looks at me with this bewildered expression on her face; a strange mixture between fear, despair, and plain anger.

"There's nothing for you to do at this moment but sit and wait." I turn around to leave the room. "I'll see to it that you're provided with something to eat and drink, and that nobody harasses you in any way."

I don't know if she wants to comment on that, because I shut the door, and leave her alone.

The storage room where Heero is being held is barely illuminated. Wufei digs out his flashlight, and we're granted access from the guards in front of his door. Heero Yuy is also awake and well; he backs away from the door when it swings open, and immediately takes stock of the situation.

"Who are you people and what do you want from us?"

I do the introduction once again, only to receive icy silence when I'm finished. He directs a heated glare at me, and I'm almost forced to my knees by the intensity of his gaze. Wufei is less impressed, and keeps a watchful eye. When Sally begins to approach our prisoner, he stops her.

"No, Sally, wait. I will check him."

"Don't you dare touch me." Heero snarls, and takes a defensive stance.

"Let him be," I say. "Apparently the darts didn't do him any harm."

"No thanks to you," he snarls again.

Sally taps Wufei on the shoulder to let him know she's leaving the room. He's also taken a stance, and he measures Heero. The tension is tangible; as if they value their chance to fight.

"Don't even think about it, or you'll get pumped with a shit-full of tranquilizers again," I threaten him.

He doesn't back off. "What are you planning to do with us? How's Relena?"

"Your girlfriend is doing just fine. She asked for a phone call."

He snorts. "She is not my girlfriend. Of course, she wants to make a call. Her father is likely worried sick about her. I don't know what you are trying to accomplish, but with kidnapping her, you took a step in the wrong direction. Earth won't be too happy with the abduction of the daughter of the Vice Foreign Minister."

"That's why we did it. As soon as the government pays attention to us, we'll make our intentions clear, and show the whole universe what the Alliance is doing to us."

"The Alliance has every right to do what they want to do. Apparently it's necessary to have strong military forces on L2 with all these gangs running around, kidnapping people."

"Watch your mouth, you ignorant fool," Wufei seethes.

My anger flares. "We refuse to let anybody stomp on us! Just because we don't fucking well 'behave' like all other colonies, we get punished, and smacked around like this!"

"And why don't you just behave?" The intensity of his eyes seems to grow stronger with each passing minute. "Every colony gets good treatment. The Alliance provides food and medication."

"It isn't freedom! It's strict control!" Wufei cuts in. "The authority of the Alliance is imposed with military force. Every shred of independence or autonomy is suppressed in the name of justice, and peace."

"Why do you even want to be independent from the Alliance?" Heero looks at me. That's all I need, political crap discussion with... with him .

"The colonies were formed by backbreaking labor in outer space, to provide new homes for the overpopulated Earth. However, all the colonists ended up being regarded as second class citizens. We were good enough to build the colonies, to die for the colonies! When the first signs of wealth on the colonies reached Earth, the Alliance didn't hesitate one single second to seize control with military power! What's your problem?"

"What's yours? " He asks in return.

"What?"

His eyes are dark blue pits, and they are spitting sparks of lightning at me. "I asked you what your problem is."

"You are," I blurt.

Silence falls, and I ignore the strange look I receive from Wufei. I clench my fists so hard that my leather gloves crackle.

"There isn't any life in having to fear constantly, or in being controlled by powers who are only interested in expanding their own influence, and not in the colony and the colonists themselves."

"So you have a better life here in this godforsaken place, wherever we are, and kidnap people! If you let us go right now, maybe the government will be more lenient in your punishment."

"As if we would get a fair trial anyway," Wufei snorts. He opens his mouth to continue, but I yank his arm. I want to get out of this room, as soon as possible. Heero's just a few meters away from me, and I can see him trembling with anger. I can't summon the energy to tell him the same as Relena, and I twist the doorknob to leave the room. I hardly notice Wufei trailing behind me and wandering off. I'm left in the hallway. The windowsills are empty; a little girl won't be waiting there for me today. I feel cold and.... sad.

Unlike the Alliance, we take care of our prisoners. I ask Sally if she can arrange with the food patrol for the two extra mouths that have to be fed. She grimaces, but agrees. It's going to be tight -- the Underground population fortunately stays mostly at the same level, but with the upcoming births, there are going to be more hungry mouths to feed. The children are born in illegality, as with all things dealing with The Underground. We have to be careful with our stocks. We're completely dependent on food from various sources, from the black market to forged food stamps, and government issued ration packages.

"I'll meet you at dinner," she says, and that leaves me some time. I retreat to my room to work out my next plans. More medication, as always. I fold my hands. I want to thank God for bringing Trowa back safely. I want to thank God for everyone still alive. At times like these I feel the golden crucifix burn under my black shirt. The last gift of my two, three years spent in bliss at the Church. I'm so sorry, Father. I should pray and be thankful that we're all alive and relatively well. I should pray and ask for forgiveness and find hope and comfort in your words. I can't say the prayer. The price of my trust in other people was too high. I started to really believe in the God Father Maxwell preached about, when everything was taken away, and Shinigami laughed like a loon on my shoulder.

I flick my braid over my shoulder. We've succeeded in the first stage of the plan. We have to wait for the reaction of the Alliance, and the news broadcast. I sit cross-legged on my bed and slowly drop my head on my chest. I look silently for my wonderland. The perfect place in my mind.

A firm rapping on the door brings me out of my daydreaming, and I notice I've been out for two hours. My hands clutch my disheveled braid.

"Are you coming, Duo?" I recognize Quatre's voice.

"Okay! Jus' a minute!"

We eat in silence in the cafeteria, and Sally reminds me of two extra plates, waiting to be taken to our prisoners.

"Our temporary guests," Quatre suggests. We snicker a bit, but he is dead serious. After I told him the short gist of the conversations I had with both Relena and Heero, he offers to accompany me to deliver the food. After our dinner, trays in our hands, we go visit the girl first. On our way, I express my gratitude for Trowa's safe return.

"It was pretty scary at one point." He eyes me. "Now I understand even less why you keep insisting on doing that all alone. The tension was enough to lose weight on the spot. I was sweating like a pig down there. I trusted my ability to tell me he was coming back. It felt good."

I understand he refers to his emotional sixth sense, as I have come to call it.

"You handled the planning very well, as you did on every mission before."

"I know. The place was crawling with Alliance officers, though. We didn't count on that many reinforcements. They were pretty quick to respond."

"We'll watch the news later on," I remind him. He nods, and we arrive at the girl's room.

Quatre and I step in simultaneously, and Relena Darlian rises immediately from her makeshift bed.

"Do you have news from my father? Where is Heero?"

"We've already told you that Heero is safe and sound."

"I want to see him," she pouts.

"He is fine, Miss Relena," Quatre answers courteously, and puts the plate on the little rickety table. He pulls away the cloth covering it.

"We brought you something to eat."

She eyes it for a second, and I know what she's going to do. She raises her arm.

"I am not going to eat that." Her arm comes down in a wild movement. "It's gross!"

I manage to catch the plate before it hits the ground, and I place it on the table once again.

"Whatever you want," I inform her coldly. "There are lots of other people who need the food more than you do, and who will be happy to eat it."

"It's disgusting. You don't even have vegetables!"

"Those are hard to acquire around here, Miss Relena," Quatre speaks up, polite as ever. In situations like these, he demonstrates his diplomatic skills, learned from his father, out of his past, ages ago. "Unfortunately there is nothing else we can offer you. It's either this or nothing."

She gawks at Quatre, then at me.

"Wha...?"

"He said it right," I shrug, not in the least interested in her antics. For a moment I'm convinced she will yank the plate out of my hands to throw it in my face, but she picks up the spoon, and starts eating. I shrug again, and turn around to leave the room. I have lots of work to do. Quatre prepares to leave also, but we're both stopped by her voice, sounding puzzled.

"We had steak, green beans, and stuffed potatoes for dinner at the hotel." She speaks in a soft, but resolute tone. Relena isn't used to being denied, and her voice sounds wondering, and questioning. Quatre's already turned the doorknob, but nonetheless spins around to answer her.

"That is because, Miss Relena, the government didn't want you to be confronted with the real life on L2, out here, and saved the best for you. Thanks to all their corrupt manipulation, people like you have been lured into a false view of the situation here."

We leave the room.

"One down, one to go," I say wryly. Quatre smiles at me.

"She's afraid, Duo, afraid, and alone. She doesn't know how else to react. Relena can't rely on her boyfriend or her father now. She finds herself in a complete different situation than she could ever imagine. She cannot cope, and this is the only way she knows how to react, however bad or spoiled it may seem to us."

"Uh-huh," I answer, a little bit irritated. I try to put myself in her situation, but I guess being practically born, and raised on streets and running through the slums of L2 beats any trace of fear out of you, because I can't imagine her feelings. The only situation I can compare with, is the time when I held Solo dead in my arms. That feeling of being totally lost... of not knowing what to do... however, I wouldn't vent it on food, but that's just me.

When we reach Heero's room, the two guards look grim.

"We had to give him a black eye to keep him from escaping. He was a handful to subdue. Duo, be careful."

"I will." You will guard me, won't you, Shinigami?

Quatre shows the guard the dart gun. "If he attacks one of us, I'll pump him full with this."

"Shocking," I reply when I see Quatre's determined look. People don't mess with me, but certainly not with Quatre either. It's just the blond hair and those big blue eyes of his' -- that give people the wrong impression. When we enter, Heero turns around, and faces us with a forceful glare, unlike any other glare he's directed at me before, even with his left eye swollen and bruised.

"Who are you?" He barks at Quatre.

"My name is Quatre Raberba Winner. We haven't met before. Please excuse me for not shaking hands."

"Finally, someone with manners, and comprehensible speech." He snorts, looking in my direction. I decide it's not worth fighting over, and I dump the plate on the floor.

"Here's your food. By the way, your girlfriend is annoying the hell out of everyone. "

"She is not my girlfriend." He turns his eyes from the plate to look at me. Furious blue eyes. I just can't come up with a description that fits. They search me, strip me, and examine me. Suddenly he takes the spoon and starts eating.

A second later, he throws the cutlery away. "Bah! What is this foul concoction?"

"What?"

"The food," he snarls, "what's wrong with the food?"

I blink. "It's what we eat around here."

Quatre throws me a look. "I think our culinary standards leave much to be desired. Relena was complaining about it too."

"What are you trying to do, poison us?"

"Shut up!" I clench my fists. "We do our best here to keep you reasonably comfortable during your stay, and that's more than your precious Alliance will do! We have people here who almost starved to death when they were arrested for a mere walk in the park!"

Quatre addresses Heero more politely. "I suggest you watch your mouth. You are not aware of the situation, which I am happy to explain to you. We are trying to make a stand for ourselves..."

"You have only to thank yourselves for this situation." Heero comments, and I register that he holds the spoon as if it's a weapon. He's a fucking one-man-army. I realize the implications of his remark, and I open my mouth and let it flood out.

"You're a damn pampered Earthboy, who has no idea how life on the colonies is! Your fucking peachy girlfriend and her fucking preachy father may be top of the hill on your fucking Earth, but here you're nothing! Nothing but dirt on their shoes, those sons of bitches controlling our lives! Tell me, which world is so great that it needs military power to uphold its ideals?"

"You are so stubborn," he says, "why don't you just conform to what the Earth Nations wants? I can assure you that they don't want this to happen. I lived on the L1 colony the first five years of my life. When Earth gave me the opportunity to study there, I jumped at the opportunity. I was never misjudged or mistreated. Earth people are kind, and nice."

"I'm not talking about Earth. I can't judge them because I've never met them. I'm talking about the Alliance, and its oppression. We fight for freedom and independence!"

Heero doesn't realize he's bending the spoon like some... piece of paper being crumpled.

"You seem to forget you have to thank your hated Alliance for your existence! It was the Earth Nations who expanded, and went out into new frontiers, building colonies to provide people better lives, and opportunities."

Quatre suppresses a coughing fit.. "So this is what they use as propaganda slogans."

"Heero, listen to me." I have his full attention, two blue eyes and a tight drawn mouth. I want him to understand me. "Building the colonies was essential for your Earth Nations, because there was overpopulation, disputes, and war. People died during and for the building of the first, and the next colonies. After completion, the conflicts of Earth continued on the colonies. We have come to mirror Earth warfare. We became the playground for your rivalries, increasing military strength with every cry for independence. Thanks to the mobile suits, the Alliance took the reigns over from the previously installed governments, and replaced them with Alliance-minded officials. We don't agree with their control. We want freedom. Independence. We don't want to walk in line with what the Alliance says. We'd rather die."

"You are Shinigami."

I don't answer, surprised as I am by his remark. It's like he looks straight through me, delving into my mind and soul. For a moment, when he looks at me, I think there's more to his face than he thinks he's showing. A flicker of... understanding, maybe?

"So what if I am?"

"You're quite famous. We were warned on Earth about you."

I don't know how the Alliance, or people, for that matter got wind of my nickname. I do know how I got it, and why I loved it; but I certainly don't spread it around anymore. When I stayed at the Maxwell Church, Father used to teach me the basics of religion, and he also taught me about foreign cultures, and religions. He talked about God, Mohammed and Buddha. After ancient Greek and Roman mythology, he told me about the Shinto religion -- and there I found my counterpart, Shinigami, God of Death. The name stuck for one reason, and in my younger years I spread it whenever I liked; yelling like a madman on the run for the military, stealing, hacking, and slashing my way through street life. I never guessed it would be used later to describe me. It seems it will always be there to haunt me. As Shinigami will always stand by my side, hovering to kill the one close to me, laughing to bring out the darkness in me.

Quatre crosses his arms. I'm startled by his move, I have totally forgotten about him.

"What do you mean, you were warned on Earth about him?"

Heero seems to deflate a little. "When we were leaving for L2, some bodyguards at the minister's office told me about rebellious gangs on the colony, and one gang in particular -- Shinigami."

"Actually, the name is Maxwell's Demon gang, though 'gang' sounds so degrading," Quatre answers, and he looks at me as if I am his damn favorite elder brother. "It's a name we are proud to wear."

"The great Shinigami." A snort. "An ignorant rebel with a handy three foot braid, out to create as much chaos around him as possible."

"Look who you are calling ignorant. You don't know a thing about politics. You just do your work and bring home your money. You don't have to wonder what you will eat next, where you will sleep next -- under a roof or under the sky. You don't have to wait eight hours in a fucking line to get some rotten potatoes. You can get everything you want."

"The Alliance will bring the same benefits to you once you succumb to them," he says again.

"Right, succumb. Where is the freedom? We refuse to swallow the control of the Alliance. They send us up here to develop technology, to build new worlds; their fucking new worlds, and all we get in return is oppression, and violence! It cost us hundreds of years to settle here, and we are paid back with suspicion, and hatred! Let the colonies swallow their pride and own beliefs; let them crawl at the knees for their superior Earth oppressor. We have a rebellious name here, because we're the only ones standing up against their imposed regime!"

"The Alliance is perhaps wrong in using military power, but you are mistaken in the way you handle things, yourself. By abducting us, you also use violence." He is stubborn, the bastard.

"So tell me why L5 self-detonated then," I ask him in my sweetest tone of voice. I falter, and it comes out really smug.

He frowns at me. "L5? Self-detonated?"

After a while he continues: "They suffered problems with the outside hull. Decompression. Everybody knows it was an engineering fault."

I cannot help it, and I start to laugh -- hard, and completely off-key.

"An engineering fault? Wufei was fucking right! That's what... that's what the Alliance reported? They self-detonated, because they didn't yield to Alliance control. L5 was targeted for termination when it became clear that they wouldn't give up their traditions and culture, no matter what."

"Impossible." He frowns, but won't let go. "The Alliance would never do that."

"We have a descendant of the L5 colony here. You have met him already, he was with me the first time I visited you. It'll be my pleasure to send him to you, so you can exchange opinions."

I have a slightly scary vision of Wufei sharing his opinion with him... with Heero and his false view of the Alliance, and its self-righteous holy goodness. He hasn't grown up on the colonies, he was shipped off to Earth when he was five. He doesn't know, he's a standard, docile citizen of Earth on a leash. Wufei saw his colony self-detonate, while he was on the run with his sick wife. They would kill each other for sure. Quatre taps my shoulder.

"We have to get back in time for the broadcast," he reminds me.

I nod, and turn around to leave the room.

"Funny," Heero says, slashing the silence, "that a colony boy like you should choose a nickname like Shinigami. Do you even know what it means?"

"I do," I confirm. "I'm not stupid. There's something else I do, together with lots of other people. It's called surviving, Heero Yuy. Just a reminder that you and your girlfriend won't be sharing the same bed tonight."

"She is not my girlfriend!" He raises his voice, without resorting to screaming. I shut up and look at him.

"She is not," he repeats, slowly and softly.

"Well, it's very nice to have that cleared up," I answer, and hope he gets the sarcasm. From the confused look in his eyes, I guess not.

"How long will I... she... we be staying here?"

"As long as it takes to get our point across," I answer.

"Don't you realize that by kidnapping Relena you only confirm Earth opinions of the colonies?"

"Yes, and what began those opinions anyway? We didn't ask to be trampled, Earthboy."

"My name is Heero Yuy. You can address me with that or don't talk to me at all."

"Well, excuse me, Mr.-Heero-Earthboy-fucking-nose-in-the-air-Yuy," I spit out. "My sincere apologies for not offering you room service, your own servant, a bath, a bed, and a massage!"

While swinging the door shut, I can clearly, albeit softly, hear him say: "Apology accepted," with a damn smug tone in his voice.

"That went well," Quatre thinks out loud when we are heading back to the conference room.

"What a jerk," is my answer, and I stuff my hands in my pockets. I'm not upset -- I'm irritated, because this whole conversation convinced me that everybody in the whole fucking universe has the wrong image of L2, thanks to the Alliance. They think we asked for this... this misery, the sons of bitches. I growl. Quatre remains silent.

Trowa has already hooked up the television to the cable, and is busy adjusting the antennae. I can't remember how we got the TV in the first place. You can spend your money on every other colony cluster -- but on L2, really everything is for sale if you offer the right price: from people's conscience to morality, from flight plans to shoes. A really precious item is bottled, clean water -- you have to do some really shitty stuff to be paid in bottled water. I know. I've done some of those 'chores' myself. Like I said before, there's more than one reason why people call me Shinigami. I was born in a war, I lived throughout a war but all the Gods help me, I will not die in a war. I mumble, and G looks at me if I have lost my mind. Quatre makes a 'silent' motion, and we watch the news.

We watch it. If we had some device to tape it and see it again, we would watch it again.

Quatre's blue eyes are as big as saucers. G fidgets with his sleeves. Trowa looks pensive. Sally doesn't realize that her mouth is hanging open.

A 'severely astounded and stunned looking reporter' covers the biggest riot of the last months on the streets of L2, but not a word about Darlian or his daughter... or about the deploy of the mobile suits.

"By directly attacking one of the finest accommodations this colony has to offer, the so-called rebels have once again demonstrated their intentions to thwart any regulations the government has adopted to improve the structure of ssociety. As long as these rebels are wandering free in L2, and have the support of the citizens, this colony will never reach a future wherein..."

"Shut. It. Off.." I growl. Trowa leans forward, and severs the connection. We look at each other as if we are beaten with sticks. The surreal feeling of the situation slowly becomes clear, and I suddenly feel very tired. This is not good. I don't have to voice it out loud. Everybody knows this stinks. We break up the meeting in complete silence.

After ten, the electricity is automatically cut on the colony, and because we're illegally tapping from it, so are we. Hilde is distributing the candles, and she gives me a white, short one, knowing I won't be using it for long.

"Is everything all right with the girl?" I ask.

She chuckles. "She started screaming when the lights went out."

We walk together up to my room. I had to tell Hilde once I wasn't interested in her... that way. I love and value her very much as a friend, but not as a girlfriend. It was hard for her, and she took the news badly. She later confessed to me that she had always thought we would end up together, and she never, ever had something with another guy because of that conviction. She blamed me for ruining her hopes and dreams, for wasting her time, and we didn't talk for almost two years. Our friendship came back to life when she found a boyfriend, and her fear of being a 'left-over', when her chances with me had been shattered, was taken away.

I once had a crush on Trowa, as the classic "silent and strong" type of guy. I held myself back with great strength and willpower. I didn't -- and don't -- want to fall in love, I didn't want the responsibility for a relationship in a world as unstable as this one. For me it's easier to return... there's nobody waiting for me and if I get killed, there won't be a grieving widow. Besides, I don't even know if Trowa... well, you know, swings that way. He certainly has never mentioned anything about it, never made any attempt or hinted at sexual attraction or activity, not that it's my business. Even though he spends more time with Quatre than with me nowadays, I can't assume they're lovers. It would surprise me very much if they were -- not that I would mind -- but to me, he and Quatre just share equal interests, and have a more personal 'connection', not in the first place because of their mutual passion for music. I'm not jealous. I don't even regret never telling Trowa I had a crush on him. Though he hasn't said anything discriminating or derogatory about gay people, I just think he would react badly if I ever told him. It's not easy when your same-sex friend tells you he has a crush... on you. So I never told him, and we're still best friends. I like that. Never mind that I felt miserable for a while and cried a few nights. Cried about Trowa, about missed chances, about how lonely I was, and that there would be no change in this situation... ever. I ruffle my bangs. There is no time for reliving all that again, and I don't want to think about it. I cut off the train of thought and smile at Hilde.

"Yeah... our pretty princess will have to do without her dolls tonight."

She laughs. "Don't forget her teddy bear. She will sure miss getting some!" She starts to laugh uproariously. Her teddy bear... I laugh with her of course, but an image of Heero Yuy flashes before my eyes. Handsome. Attractive. Those eyes, those fiery blue eyes.

I keep expecting him to attack me, to forcefully demand his freedom, to demand everything, but he had a discussion with me, he voiced his own opinions, no matter how dense and colored by propaganda they were. My laughter dies. Hilde looks at me with a surprised look on her face, mumbles something about 'goodnight' and I bid her the same. My room feels cold. I light the candle, and place it on the metal shelf; the thoughts in my head are jumbled, every single one screaming for attention. There are too many problems coming at me. I crush the tip of the match I used for lighting the candle in my fingers and rub the black ash between them. Maybe the others are right, and I desperately need someone to lean on... otherwise I'm not going to make it myself.

It's past midnight when hell breaks loose. The sounds are all too familiar. The ground rocks violently, and people scream in hysteria. I jump out of my bed and scramble for my clothes. Chunks of concrete are coming down, showering me in white and gray chips and pieces. I hastily put on my boots. Another violent rumble sends me crashing to the ground. I stand up, open the door, and race through the hallway. Children and women run around, men wave with guns. There is definitely a familiar smell in the air. The stench of death.

When I turn around the corner, I almost slam into a door out of its frame. Someone pulls at my arm with great force, before my nose connects with the door. It's Trowa.

"Raid on the Underground!" He yells at me. "Get everybody in gear!"

"What the fucking hell?" The words leave my mouth before I can edit them, but they are lost in the overwhelming rumble of collapsing walls and ceilings, in the screaming and the yelling.

Trowa disappears in the clouds of dust, off to Quatre or to save Catherine, I don't know. I don't bother re-entering my room to save my stuff; I don't have any stuff worth to be saved. On the last second I change my mind, dive into my room, and retrieve my blankets and sheets. I haul my ass out of the room and hear the sound of another wall caving in. I skid to a halt and I turn around; that's unmistakably the noise of a Leo. Christ! A mobile suit! What are they thinking? How come the Alliance executes a raid now? How did they find us?

"Get the hell out!"

"Move! Move!"

Leos are destroying the university, reducing the once solid building to a ruin. I cross the large hallway with the blankets in my arms, picking up lost children, and moving dazed and confused people.

"Get away from here!"

An explosion. Tremendous heat blows through the corridors, scorching everything... and everyone... inside. They are firing! Firing massive beam cannons inside! The screams and cries are tearing through me, ripping me apart; the horrible sounds of people dying reaches my ears. I will be hearing them forever in my nightmares. I have lost my blankets somehow. Some people seek shelter in the large cafeteria, and I urge them to leave. The walls tumble down under the heavy weight of a Leo stomping all around. In the flurry and the panic I can only register that there are no ground forces. I don't hear gunfire nor do I see uniformed soldiers. I blink. Strange flashes swirl in front of my eyes -- the weirdest, deadliest déjà vu I have ever had. I don't know what hits me next but I find myself on the ground, my hip and left leg exploding with pain. Stars dance in front of my eyes, and the agonizing pain... Fuck! Stop whimpering! I try to lift myself off the floor, but I can't. A massive chunk of concrete is lying on my left side, immobilizing me.

I hear screams, fortunately far away. The Alliance has never attacked the Underground before. Why are they doing this now? And how did they know which building to attack? I can't trouble myself with these questions. My eyes sting with tears of the searing pain, I can't feel my left leg. It's no use trying to remove the concrete -- it's fucking huge. It must have crushed my leg. I hear the cracking and tearing sound of another wall about to crumble. This must be it. I am going to be crushed. I grit my teeth, and restrain myself from lifting my head to look around for him. For Shinigami. Did you really decide this time was the best one for me? I will die buried under fucking concrete and stone? Death visited me before and told me without words that my time was yet to come. The crucifix burns on my skin. Forgive me Father, for I have failed. Quatre. Trowa. Wufei. Sally. Hilde. Dr. G. Anna. God, they were right. I am leaving them behind. Suddenly the weight is lifted, and someone hisses: "Get away there! Hurry!"

I roll aside using my elbows, forcing my body to move. The pain is blinding and cripples me with every movement. I hear my own screams, and I couldn't care less about the tears streaming on my face. With the last ounce of my willpower I take a look at my savior. The moisture in my eyes is blurring my focus, but I recognize him. I would recognize him out thousands of men because the first time I saw him; he was etched in my mind. Heero Yuy. Heero is lifting the concrete. He saves me. I can't even thank him. Blackness claims me before I can utter a word.

"Get him out of the room!"

"Don't touch me!"

"Get him OUT! Now!"

Rumbling sounds. Crashing sounds. Loud voices. A brawl. People are fighting. I try to open my eyes -- the movement nearly exhausts me, and I let out a groan of pain.

"Stop it!" Quatre's voice. Ah, bless the guy -- he still can silence the noisiest crowd. My head pounds like a drum. Again. Pain, pain everywhere.

"You, out of this room, now!" He actually bellows. It takes a lot for Quatre to bellow -- I must've missed some fireworks.

"You will not command me!"

That sounds like... Heero? What is he doing here? I want to open my mouth and say something, but my throat hurts, and all I can do is cough a little. It's like a stack of hay being crammed in my throat, and I cough some more.

"Duo! Praise Allah, you're awake!"

Something is being held to my lips; from the first drops I taste the blessed water. I lick, slurp and suck with my mouth, my tongue, just to taste more of the precious liquid.

"Not so fast. Take it easy." Unmistakably, Sally's voice. I want to open my eyes. Everything hurts, especially my leg. O God, I can feel my leg again... and want to chop it off because of the searing pain.

"Qu.. " I want to say his name, but somehow I cannot pronounce the "Qua--" part of his name. Sally is near my bed, and flashes with a strong light in my eye. I cringe. She smirks and continues to check my vital status. I let her do her job, and face one of my best friends for the verdict. My vision is blurred somehow and I frantically bat my eyelids. It hurts.

"Duo, you're going to be all right," Quatre soothes. "Praise Allah, and God, and everybody else but the chunk of concrete that fell on you didn't break a single bone. You're bruised, cracked, and it will be painful for a while, but nothing is broken."

I gust a sigh of relief. We don't have much medical equipment and besides the difficult healing of broken bones, we don't have anything professional to set and mend it.

"Another case of the Maxwell's Demon's luck," Sally says, rather drolly. "Any other person would've had his hip and leg bones broken, but you came off rather unscathed, given the situation. It will hurt like hell though, and you will have to walk with a cane for a long time to come."

"A cane?" I really can't appreciate her typical humor now. She points at a stick standing in the corner of the room, but turning my head hurts too much, so I'll take her word for it. Great. I'll be wobbling around with a cane. My first thoughts are about the missions. The Gundams. Who is going to do.. I try to sit up, but the pain shocks me so much I almost black out.

"Don't," Quatre pushes me back into the pillows. "Take it easy. "

"Heero," I say. "Heero was here, right?" A coughing fit takes my breath away. Sally hands me some medication and another cup of fresh water.

"He saved your life," Quatre confirms. "We saw him carrying you out of the building. He let himself get captured pretty quickly, as he was exhausted from the effort and the smoke inhalation."

"Yeah..." My mind wanders off. What was he thinking? Why... why would he rescue me in the first place? How the hell did he even get out of his secured room? Quatre looks at me, his expression a strange mixture between anxiety, expectation and a little bit of... amusement?

I slowly look around, and do not recognize the room. He is quick to fluff the supporting pillows.

"You're in one of the safe houses, relax."

Figures. I rub at my temples. I should have known, I developed the so-called emergency plan years ago. I've always kept in mind that the Alliance once would find out one way or another that this suburb, the Underground, was the hideout of our group. In case they would come with mobile suits or ground troops, I designated a few discarded and rundown houses as safe houses. After the first few people joined me, we worked together on cellars and an underground system of tunnels to provide shelter in case of an attack. I never would have thought we would actually use it; when Sally came to me, she, and later Quatre, would take up more seriously the maintenance of the safe houses by keeping stocks and supplies up to date and the corridors unclogged and clean.

"What were they thinking, firing a beam cannon at this distance? It's against all interstellar conventions to fire an energy rifle inside a colony -- let alone on civilians!" I cry out indignantly, coughing once in a while.

"I don't know," Quatre slumps his shoulders. "It was truly a sad day."

"What's our status?"

"What do you mean?"

"How many are dead?" My voice is clipped.

He swallows. "Fifteen at least. Three women had a miscarriage... we are busy taking inventory of who is here and who is... not."

"Catherine?" I croak. Trowa isn't in the room. Get your filthy hands of them, Shinigami! They're not yours, you fucking bastard!

"They're fine," Sally says. "Catherine was fortunately at the Chang's house and Trowa made his way out of the building."

The relief washes over me. Even though Wufei and his wife are part of the Underground community, they still uphold this strange oddness to keep some distance, and they have chosen to live more reclusively. Their dwelling is located a hundred meters away from the first buildings of the Underground -- a perfectly safe distance. I push away the blankets and try to get up.

"What are you doing? You should be resting, Duo!"

"I want to see him," I say.

"Trowa is fine," Quatre answers, a little bit strained, but I already know that he knows that Trowa was not the one I was talking about.

"Duo, I'd rather not have you walking around yet," Sally objects.

"You can't keep Maxwell in bed unless you tie him up," Wufei remarks dryly.

"You made it!" I exclaim, even though I already knew he was safe. I skip the thought that it is not like me to not notice my friend until he stands in front of me. He comes towards me and bows, hands clasped together.

"Good to see you, Maxwell. It was a tragic day. I can only pray to the good spirits for comfort for the souls lost to us."

"Thank you, Wufei. How's Meiran?"

"We weren't hit," he tells me, face frowned. "Your university took the severest hits. I counted three Leos, no ground troops, and they shot without a pattern. It was totally random."

"What the hell were they thinking... how did they even come up with this?"

The anger in his eyes is as raw as the indignant tone of my voice.

"I swear I will find the one responsible for this. For ordering this foul attack. For killing our people. They have sunk to a new low by choosing not to face us man to man, but by sending armed mobile suits. They have showed us what they really are --weaklings, who use machines to solve their problems."

"You won't find the one who is responsible for this," I say dejectedly.

"I will. I swear." He looks at me with the same intensity as Heero's. That invincible, deep-rooted belief and trust, that look of determined... conviction. How I wish I could be so strong like that. I shift to find a better position on the bed.

"I'd rather have you find out why and how the Alliance knew how to target the Underground and the university in particular."

"You have my word." As simple as that, the words of his promise become a heavy weight on his shoulders. Wufei has continued his strict life of honor after his arrival here, upholding the codes and traditions of his former clan to pass on to his children one day.

"I want to get up," I exclaim and he helps me sit without objecting. Sally fetches the cane in the corner, and returns to my bedside.

"Use this, Duo. It won't be very helpful, but it favors your leg so you don't put too much stress on it."

"Thank you."

"I will go with you," Wufei ventures. "If you want to visit Heero, that guy is too dangerous to see alone. Before you know it, he'll kick the cane away, and you can't defend yourself now."

I glare at him but he is not impressed, not at all. I make a theatrical move of 'giving up', and throw my arms high in the sky. Bad move -- my shoulders also hurt.

"Let's go," I sigh. "How long was I out anyway?"

"A day. You needed the rest, Duo." Quatre puts his hand on my arm and squeezes reassuringly.

"We took care of relocating everybody to the safe houses. We stayed here for the rest of the day, but no Alliance soldiers, or mobile suits showed up. As for Heero -- he is now in the other safe house, the one two blocks away from here."

"Bring me to him," I command, and we leave for the safe house. The journey seems twice as long in my mind as each step sends jolts of pain through my body. I want this to get over with. To my surprise, when we pass the University, I see with my own eyes that it's still standing tall, though heavily damaged. The west wing is miraculously undamaged -- that means Quatre's dean's room and, thankfully, the sick bay have been spared the destruction. Heero has been brought to the most remote safe house. I have to stop biting my tongue. Finally, we are there. Wufei leads me to the basement, where two of our group are guarding him; I recognize them as the ones who were on guard duty the first time. They greet me enthusiastically, and I have to reassure them various times that I'm all right and well, yes, I will have to walk with a cane for a while because of my bruised and battered leg. When they hear I want to talk to Heero, they exchange nervous looks.

"What's the matter?"

"Why do you want to see him? He's dangerous, Duo. He constantly tries to escape, and he almost knocked one of us out."

"I have to talk to him," I say in my I-don't-owe-you-a-fucking-explanation tone of voice. They both shut up but look at Wufei for some help. He's looking at the door as if he's studying it; then he suddenly grabs the handle and pushes. The door opens without a sound.

I immediately spot Heero, sitting cross-legged in the exact middle of the room, eating a dinner of sticky rice with egg and mushrooms. His eyes divert to me; sweep over me, and return their attention to the bowl of rice. I am thankful that they didn't forget to feed him. Wufei stops me before I can enter.

"Don't go in alone."

"He won't harm me," I say, to my own amazement, I may add.

He snorts. "You're not exactly in good shape, Duo. What if he takes you hostage?"

I shake my head. "Stay inside the room and watch him."

He agrees and we both enter the room. It's cold. There are some blankets in the corner as a makeshift bed. The only daylight is filtered through two previously made air holes.

"Why?"

My voice echoes in the hollow room. It's larger than his previous cell. It feels damp.

"I owe you my life."

He doesn't react.

"I pay my debts. I don't like to owe something to someone." And especially not to you.

When Heero finally looks at me, it seems like the harsh gaze, the sharp sting of his eyes is gone, somehow. Maybe it's the aftershock of the raid. I have lived through raids before, but never with mobile suits deployed, and ending in such a high death toll. He rises from the floor, slowly; as to show me he has no hostile intentions. It looks like he is stretching himself out, like a tree slowly coming to full length when reaching out its branches.

"I want to thank you for saving my life," I tell him. His face is placid.

Wufei growls behind me. "The man is thanking you, you don't have to feel all high and mighty." His voice carries some irritation.

"That's enough, Wufei," I chide him gently.

He steps back, but eyes Heero as if he wants to deck him.

"You're not hurt yourself?" I ask.

He shakes his head. I visibly have to force myself to keep standing up; I never realized I was so exhausted from the mere walk. The cane ticks on the floor -- it takes me a minute to understand that my hand leaning on it is shaking hard. Wufei takes me by the elbow, and motions for me to leave the room. Heero raises his hand.

"Wait," I tell Wufei.

"How is Relena?"

I look at Wufei for the answer, I had forgotten all about the girl. He shrugs.

"She is fine. Hilde took her to another safe house. She was in the west wing when the raid happened. I learned from Sally that she had to sedate her as she was completely flipping mad with fear."

"No wonder," I say, and wipe away the sweat on my brow. "It was terrifying."

"I was thinking..." Heero speaks at the same moment when Wufei says: "The girls are all..."

"Safe," I finish his sentence, and look at him for confirmation. After his nod, I address Heero.

"What were you thinking, Heero?"

He fidgets with the not-so-white-anymore flaps of his collar.

"I don't think this was a rescue mission for Relena or me. They didn't care if we were killed in the raid. If they did care, they wouldn't have come to this place with Leos and beam cannons."

He stands so close. He drops his hand. Did he really want... to touch me? I let go of the breath I was holding and suddenly, I want to get away from him.

"It could be possible the Alliance..." Is that really my voice, sounding so hoarse?

"Is this... is this what you are so afraid of?"

He is a little bit taller than me. His unruly hair reflects his own confusion; the chocolate bangs are sticking wildly out, some of them frame his eyes; blue eyes with an ocean of emotions, radiating from fear to anger, from despair to chagrin. He talks again, and what he says surely takes me by surprise.

"Set me free." His voice is strangely subdued, and does not match the sudden fierceness in his eyes. His eyes, currently directed at me. I am stripped to my soul by those eyes. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle.

"You know I can't do that."

"Yes you can."

"I can't."

The last thing I am interested in is having a "yes-you-can-no-I-can't" discussion with Heero Yuy. I don't know what he's trying to do or, what he's talking about.

"You don't understand. Set me free."

"We'll talk about this later." I can barely bring myself to speak.

"You should rest," he tells me, almost sounding worried-like. "Your leg looks pretty bad."

"It could be worse." I eye him. "If you didn't lift that piece of concrete, it surely would've been broken. How come you're so strong anyway?"

He... blushes? He averts his head a little.

"I had some training."

"That must have been some pretty harsh training." Wufei voices out loud, not with his previous hostility. He must feel in debt to Heero -- he saved my life, of all people.

"And how did you get out of your room?"

He doesn't move. "When the raid started, the guards fled... and the door got damaged by the attack. I didn't know which way to go, so I just picked a direction. I saw you... on the floor, with that piece of concrete on your leg."

I thought I was going to die. He looks at me as if he thinks the same thing. I'm suffocating in this room. I don't have anything more to say. I don't even answer Wufei when I stride past him as fast as the wobbly cane and my even more wobbly leg will take me.

"I'll take you to your room," he says and with a parting glare to Heero, he leads me out of the cell. The pain sears through me, jolt after jolt. We arrive after an excruciating walk at the west wing of the university. It's safe there. My old room is buried under tons of rubbish; another ache, added to the enormous pile of aches. Wufei doesn't comment on my strange conversation with Heero. He directs me to a room I don't recognize instantly, and to a bed, helps me sit down, and points to a bowl on the nightstand.

"Eat and rest, Maxwell. Tomorrow will be another day, if the good spirits are with us."

"Yes, if they are," I answer, and with a faint smile on his lips he leaves the room.

I sit down on my new, improvised bed. My hip is killing me, and the strange words from Heero Yuy float through my head.

" Then set me free."

"Yes you can."

"He is fucking playing with my mind," I growl, and curse myself. My head starts pounding right away, and the pain emanates in waves, rocking my body. I pick up the bowl, noting it's the same rice with egg and mushroom mush Heero had, and I slam the bowl back on the stand. Before I realize what I'm doing, I bury my head in my hands, and cry.

The next morning I insist on bringing Heero his breakfast personally, despite my bad leg. Quatre, sitting in front of me in what used to be a living room in a fairly large house, and serves now as our new cafeteria, refuses to let me carry the tray. He has informed me of the burial of the victims of the raid, the current status of the wounded and the survivors, and of the safe houses. He also told me about Catherine going into labor any minute from now, and that Trowa is with her to offer support. I grimace. Her husband should have been there for her. To see his son or daughter being born. Trowa will give her the best support and help he can; but he is not her husband. After so much information, I tell Quatre I want to visit Heero, and now he taps with his fingers on the tabletop.

"How are you going to do this?" From the look in his eyes I'm fairly sure he means "Why do you keep doing this to yourself?" but he occupies himself with the tray and the bowl with something akin to oatmeal... of some sorts.

"I brought him here. He is my responsibility," I state. Never mind that his gaze was haunting me all night. Every night since I saw him on a fuzzy static TV screen. Quatre frowns at me, and sees my red-rimmed eyes.

"We'll talk about this later, Duo."

"We'll talk," I promise. Quatre assigns himself to carry the tray for me, and we make our way to the cell. Heero is already awake, and his eyes are harsh, a blaze of fire. I feel a sting of disappointment when I see him like that -- the softness has vanished from his face. When Quatre puts the tray with the bowl down, I examine Heero and note that his nails are broken and blooded.

"You've been busy crawling your way out of here?"

He has the decency to look slightly embarrassed, and hides his hands behind his back.

"I would not be much of a prisoner if I did not try to escape."

"Don't be stupid. Even if you managed to escape, where would you go? You can't take Relena with you, and even if you did succeed, there's no way out of the Underground."

"You're bluffing." He eyes me, not completely convinced, but certainly not intending to take back his words. His hostility has come back with a vengeance, and I wonder if I haven't completely dreamt the close proximity of Heero yesterday, only yesterday, holding up his hand as if to touch me, and whispering about 'setting him free'.

Quatre takes up the discussion. "If we freed you tonight, you'd be dead the next morning. This is a war zone, you know. Life on the streets is tough."

Heero directs a look at me as if he wants to say he can handle it anyway.

"Why do you keep visiting me? Do you want to scare me or something?"

"It's just a fair warning," Quatre's calm and composed voice drifts through the air, "we are not lying to you, Heero."

"L2 is a war zone because you made one out of it," he says. Before I can react, Quatre cuts me off.

"Do you realize what you are saying? We didn't ask for war. No one asks for war."

"You said that by kidnapping you and Relena, we were confirming the opinions of the people on Earth. Don't you think by saying what you are saying, you are confirming the colonies' view of Earth?" I stumble with words.

"What opinions of Earth would the colonies have?" He sounds so derisive. "We made you. We built you!"

"We fucking died for you!" I almost scream. "After all your building, you transferred all your troubles from Earth to the colonies! I'm not going to repeat it to you, Earthboy, I'm not going to talk about all the suffering we had to endure because of your precious Alliance using military force, and mobile suits to fortify their control. Wasn't the raid proof enough for ya?"

Quatre steps in, giving me the opportunity to catch my breath. "Heero, do you know anything about the man you are named after?"

"Huh?" He is as surprised as me.

"You are named after Heero Yuy, the peace loving spokesman of the colonies, about twenty years ago. He was unanimously chosen as our representative, because his ideals appealed to us all -- Earth and the colonies. His death was a bitter blow for us all. Since then, every possibility of coalition or contact between the colonies is not only forbidden, but also oppressed. Every colony cluster has suffered because of the Alliance's tyranny."

"I'm also from the colonies," Heero objects. "I was born on L1."

"And shipped off to Earth on your fifth birthday. You have no reason to speak, Heero, no reason at all. You know nothing. You have lived a luxurious life with lots of pampering, and plenty of creature comforts. How would you know?" I couldn't get the bitterness out of my voice, really I couldn't.

He hesitates. "My guardian, doctor J, used to tell me about life on the colonies, but I could never imagine it was like this."

I flick my braid over my shoulder. "You see, Heero, sometimes I just escape, for five minutes or so. I think of my wonderland, a place void of all hate, anger, fear, doubt and sorrow. Where everybody lives together in peace. Yeah, it's corny as hell, but I've seen enough of hell to take any other possibility with both hands."

Silence. A killing silence.

"I came to bring you your breakfast, and to tell you that we will gather you to watch the news shortly. So don't wait up with your breakfast before it gets hard and cold."

His fiery eyes strip me again. Why is he looking at me like that?

"One more thing," I say before leaving. "Judging by what we have seen of you, we don't want to take any risks. Behave, or the girl gets it."

I don't lie, but I don't always tell the truth either. Heero is left pondering what we can do to the girl, and we leave. Before reaching my room, Quatre asks me if I also want to visit Relena, but I cannot handle another discussion. I'm tired of repeating my words. For graduating cum laude, Heero sure can be dense. I shudder, just thinking that everybody on Earth shares this same, warped view of the colonies. Maybe we just should cave in. Give in and succumb to the Alliance, and just see how things work out. Quatre putting his hand on my shoulder startles me. He has his other hand rubbing his chest, a movement that reminds me of his empathic abilities.

"Your despair is radiating from you, Duo," he says calmly.

"I just... I just don't know anything anymore." I start, searching for words.

"It's okay. Heero is questioning his beliefs, not yours. Him asking questions is good for us too, Duo. We are reminded of the cause we are fighting for. He'll see it eventually too. It just takes some time, but don't give up hope. You're the one standing up for us all. Don't forget so many people are looking up to you."

"And why did I do to deserve that in the first place?" It's out of my mouth before I realize it.

Quatre smiles, a melancholy little smile. "Because you are Duo Maxwell."

He leaves me to finish my breakfast on my own. I lie down on the bed and curse the throbbing ache. It's so much worse than yesterday. Being incapacitated like this gives me too much time to think... and I am irritating myself when my thoughts automatically go towards one Heero Yuy and one Quatre Winner. "Because you are Duo Maxwell." What the hell...?

"They're both fucking playing with my mind," I grumble, and throw myself on my good side to catch some sleep.

The conference room is filled with people. G, who somehow refuses to meet my gaze, stands next to Sally. Quatre, Trowa and Wufei are present, softly talking in the corner. Heero is in the other corner, and with him are two of our buff, strongest men. Quatre asks him in a friendly way to behave. Trowa tweaks the reception of the TV, plugging and hooking up every cable possible. I approach him to ask him about Catherine, as we hear Relena arriving before anyone else.

"My father will come and get me out of here! You people are going to regret this seriously!"

"Your father won't be coming here because he doesn't know where you are." I hear Hilde's voice. Cool, collected Hilde. They enter the room. Relena yanks halfheartedly at the girl's strong grip.

"My father will come for me, he will!"

She sees Heero for the first time they were separated, and she jumps at him, crying.

"Heero! O, Heero!" She touches him and he takes her by the elbow.

"I am fine, Relena." He searches her face for... for what, bruises maybe? Even though her clothes are dirty, and there is a smudge over her left cheek, Relena isn't injured. I have personally notified everybody that anyone touching the girl, in one way or another, will be severely punished -- the Shinigami way. The same goes for Heero -- but people wouldn't want to come close or touch him anyway.

"Heero, why are we here?" She whispers, voice carrying uncertainty and fear. He still holds her by the elbow, an intimate gesture that somehow ticks me off.

"Silence," I command, and the room goes quiet as a tomb. Quatre however, being polite as always, leans towards Relena and tells her, in the same whispering voice: "After the news broadcast we are going to decide how and what message we are going to deliver to your father." I completely miss her reaction as my eyes are glued at the screen. The fizzling and crackling of the broadcast fills the silence and the L2 news begins.

I know there is something wrong when they show us the Colony Star Hotel in ruins with fat clouds of smoke obscuring the view, and a small picture of Darlian positioned in the upper right corner of the screen. A picture in a picture. It's the official portrait of Vice Foreign Minister Darlian, as shown to us before. A reporter, microphone firmly in one hand, points at the molten side of the building.

"I'm standing here at the remains of the Colony Star Hotel, yesterday the victim of a brutal attack by rebels. Today it sadly has been confirmed that Vice Foreign Minister Darlian was killed during this attack. His death was confirmed by..."

I don't have to look around to see everybody bugs out his or her eyes. The collective gasps I hear confirm my thoughts. After the reporter, a government official flashes onto the screen, with a stern and disapproving look on his face.

"The L2 Government is terribly shocked and devastated by this news. What looked like another protest has turned out to be the most foul and cowardly crime of the year. These so-called rebels have mercilessly staged this attack to kill the Vice Foreign Minister, who was visiting this colony to discuss interstellar trade. To our dismay, we have to confirm that his daughter also fell victim to..."

"Fucking lying bastards!" Wufei, of course.

"Impossible," is my answer.

"Allah in Heaven..." Quatre rubs frantically his chest, eyes closed. If I were empathic like him I would be going stark raving mad from all the emotions floating around the room. Even I can feel them -- stunned amazement, anger, grief, and unbelief; all hanging in the air, weighing like a ton. Sally is speechless; professor G looks like he couldn't care less. Trowa looks just sad. Heero's face is placid, chiseled out of stone. Relena's eyes are bigger than ever, mouth hanging open. Her face has turned a sickly shade of white.

"You are dead to the world," Wufei points out. His sharp eyes meet Heero's blazing ones without flinching. I look at Relena. She isn't latching on Heero like I expected, she's struggling to withhold her tears and searching for words as her mouth is moving, but not speaking. I pity her.

"You can cry," I tell her. "You just heard the news of your father's death."

At my words, all the blood drains out of Quatre's face, and his voice sounds muffled.

"You're lucky. At least you didn't have to watch." He strides out of the room. Only seconds later Trowa follows him, shooting me a departing glance. I nod.

"This can't be happening," Relena finally says. "This can't be. Father..."

A tear makes its silent way over her cheek, she doesn't notice. Heero offers her his hand. She accepts and squeezes him. Her breath comes a little too fast.

"I... I can't believe this.." Her mind works at top speed. I recognize the signs of the stages she is going through, I went through the same when I held a dead nun in my arms. After the denial, comes the anger.

"What have you done?" She looks at me, and the dam bursts. Tears stream over her face and anger overtakes her voice. "You killed him! You... you bastard! "

Heero tightens his grip on her, but she's already stopped moving towards me. Composure forgotten, she starts crying and screaming hysterically. Wufei mumbles something about 'sniveling women' but I could have misunderstood his words. After a few minutes, Relena pulls herself together. She looks around for a handkerchief, and before someone can offer her one, she rips off a piece of cloth from her dress and tries to clean her face.

"I am sorry for the loss of your father," I say. "No matter what you think, we didn't bring you here to witness his death. This is as much a surprise for you as it is for us."

"What consideration," Heero says bluntly, "for Shinigami."

"If I were you, I would reconsider your words, Heero Yuy," Wufei answers. He bows towards Relena. "My condolences. With the loss of your father, we lose a good opportunity to carry out our plans. Like I said, you are dead to the world. We didn't do that. We didn't kill your father."

"He died in your attack." She rubs at her face with the piece of cloth. "You abducted me and killed my father!"

"Nonsense." It's the first time that G speaks up, voice creaky and... cranky. "If we could achieve our goals by eliminating Darlian, he would've been killed a long time ago. What purpose could we have by abducting you and killing your father in the process? We needed him for the plans we were going to carry out, by using you as hostage."

It takes a moment to process G's words in their minds, both Heero and Relena. With the light from the TV, I now clearly see the tight lines around Heero's mouth. He sure looks paler -- Darlian also meant much to him. I can see him consider our words, and a few seconds later he speaks up.

"If you didn't kill him... who did?"

Relena eyes me if she wants to devour me, but she also connects the dots.

"Who... who are these monsters?"

"The Alliance."

She positions herself in front of me. Her voice sounds like bending steel.

"The Alliance doesn't kill spokesmen randomly. Father is an outstanding politician and his work is renowned all over Earth! Why would they kill him?"

"You are incredibly naïve for being the daughter of the Vice Foreign Minister." I snort audibly. "They killed Treize Khushrenada, Lady Une, and Duke Dermail -- all leaders of factions that questioned the authority of the Alliance. There have been murder attempts on your father's life before. They did not hesitate to raid the Underground, and kill men and women. What makes you think why they wouldn't kill him?"

"You are lying." There is not much conviction in her words. She fidgets with the piece of cloth. "Father is a good person. He is loved..."

"No doubt about that," Sally chimes in, "but we are not talking about your father's personal assets, Relena. Try to see that apart from his work. Was there something he occupied himself with that was the opposite of the Alliance's dictated politics?"

She isn't dumb. "You mean the Alliance would eliminate someone objecting to them?"

"They got us right where they want us," I murmur, mind working rapidly to rearrange my thoughts. "We're blamed for the death of your father. When we kidnapped you, they used our so-called 'attack' on the hotel as a cover up for your father's death. Why would they want to have your father out of the way?"

"Father was proposing plans to establish trade and traffic between the colonies, besides his usual message of peace." Relena picks up my train of thoughts. "I know that not everybody agreed with his plans, but I cannot imagine who... I cannot imagine him being killed because of his beliefs."

"That's what this war is all about," I say, the bitterness in my voice clear. I ignore Heero's frown.

"People are killed because of their beliefs. Alliance soldiers dispose of the..."

"Enough, please." Her clenched fists shake and tremors overtake her body. She is about to break down from the shock.

"... men and women opposing them, because they feel that everybody questioning their rules and regulations somehow poses a threat to the precious little circle they have formed. The Alliance was, is and will be oppressing as long as no one stands against them... "

"Enough!" She cries, exactly at the same time Sally says it.

"That's enough, Duo."

Heero looks uncomfortable. Relena cries, heart-wrenching cries and sobs. It's enough indeed. I decide that the girl has suffered enough, and approach her, carefully putting my hands on her shoulders. She doesn't mind, she completely forgets that I'm supposed to be the enemy -- she needs so much some comfort now. Her world has been turned upside down, and even though I don't feel guilty at all, I don't enjoy seeing her break down either. Strangely enough, Heero comes forward and puts his arm around me, and another arm around her. Relena buries herself between us and wails. The two burly guards exchange strange looks, but neither of them comments. Sally comes to stand with us and offers Relena a handkerchief.

"Here," she says, and the girl accepts it, mumbling her thanks. After a while, when the hiccupping sobs slow down, I appoint Hilde to take Relena to her room. Wufei offers to accompany me to bring Heero to his room. I do not decline -- I need the support. The cane is unsteady in my hand; I'm feeling drained from all these emotional outbursts. Wufei deals with the two who served as Heero's guards. They are not needed anymore. We don't need to guard him. All our plans are down the drain. I have to talk to Quatre, to G...

We are subdued and reach Heero's room in complete silence. He doesn't even object when Wufei shoves him inside. He takes his place in the middle of the room, turns around, and faces me, with the same placid expression on his face as before. This time, I understand it. He hides his fear and uncertainty wonderfully well; it's like an invisible wall.

"What are you going to do now?"

"I don't know." I answer honestly. "This was not what we anticipated."

"You are still locking me up, after what happened?"

"We are enemies," I say.

"Are we?"

"What do you mean?" I can't stop the irritation boiling up in me. I don't like his disdainful comments on everything I say. He switches so fast between being fully understanding and infuriating arrogance that it confuses me.

"You always talk about demanding time and attention to your own problems, and establishing contact between the colonies, but you accept this... this atrocity just like that. You have cut from your own goals, and watched how an innocent man was killed in the process."

"We never envisioned our government would kill Darlian off," I answer. "We offered our condolences, because we are really feeling sorry for..."

"That's not going to help. You haven't accomplished a thing! Don't you see that you are on the wrong path? You're making things much worse!" He couldn't have shouted any louder.

"Are you some fucking shrink?"

"I am not. I just can see it plain as day in your... eyes." He averts his head. "You're as ignorant as ever."

"Tell me why your beloved Alliance kills an innocent man, his daughter and ignores you, Earthboy," I answer. "Tell me who's ignorant here -- me, or you, refusing to see what is really going on here?"

We leave him a few minutes to ponder.

When he speaks, he takes me by surprise -- again. "I guess you don't have much use for us left, now Darlian is gone. All I ask of you is that you make sure Relena's death will be painless and swift. I don't care what you do with me."

"Aren't we a fucking prince charming," Wufei spats. "We don't kill. We do not kill bleeding hearts or women! We're not like your fucking precious Alliance!"

"Enough, Wufei," I say. "Wait outside for me."

"You want to stay alone with him?"

"Wait outside for me," I repeat in my most commanding voice. He quirks an eyebrow but chooses not to argue. He leaves the room. Heero looks at me. There is a glitter of fear behind those fierce blue eyes, and I see his struggle to keep his face calm.

"You're very important to this gang, aren't you?"

I blink. "Yes, I am. Why?"

"The man... you call him G? He came to visit me, and asked all kinds of questions about my guardian."

I shrug. "I have nothing to say about G. He joined me a long time ago. He has his ways. Still, he can't be missed concerning mission planning and organization."

"He was interested in me and my youth. If I had undergone some training."

"Well, you are a bodyguard after all. Did you, besides the one to increase your strength?"

"I had training," he admits. "Gun training at five, pilot training at seven. J was always rambling about how I should become a mobile suit pilot. He drilled and trained me until I could compute interstellar courses in my sleep. He taught me nothing but quantum physics, arithmetic, several languages, and engineering."

"That's why you graduated cum laude," I think out loud. Great, now I sound like some infatuated girl, slobbering all over him.

"Yeah. When I went to high school, I thought everybody knew how to pilot a mobile suit blindfolded, or was used to running 20 miles everyday with a heavy backpack. I was not very popular."

I almost want to laugh, laugh at his dry remark, and because I see the beginning of a smile on his face. He's smiling! I collect myself.

"Why was G so interested in you?"

"I thought maybe you knew. He looked disappointed when I said my training was only until I went to high school. But after J's death, I had no one else who could give me the same training, and frankly, I felt relieved when I didn't have to do all that hard work every day besides my studies. I came to think J was an idiot, until the training proved to be very handy when Darlian recruited me for bodyguard services for Relena."

"You foiled a few murder attempts. Darlian wasn't very popular."

"It's not about popularity. He was an open person, and not afraid to speak his mind, not to the Earth Nations, the Alliance or the colonies. He really was looking for the right solution to solve the tension between all the parties involved. You see for yourself what happened. You got us into this mess, you better get us out as well."

"Set you free?" I answer, a bit chagrined.

Suddenly his eyes turn sad.

"When did you become Death?"

I stop in my tracks. "My hearing is just fine."

"It isn't."

"When did you become Death?" He repeats, a soft tone in his voice. "Because of... this?"

I grab the doorknob. I may owe him my life, but not all my answers.

"The night the Church went down," I hear myself say. "The night when my world collapsed and was burnt to... There was nothing left when I arrived. When I sat down on the floor, next to Sister Helen's body, crying and screaming, he came to me."

"Shinigami." His voice sounds... reverent.

"Why do you ask?"

"Huh?"

"As I recall, you ridiculed my nickname. Called me an ignorant fool."

"Maybe... maybe I'm starting to understand what... motivates you."

"Good for you," I say, and I see anger flare in his eyes. I really can't keep up with these mood swings, and I decide it's enough.

"Okay, cut the crap. Either you are with us, or against us. I don't care what more nice speeches you have up your sleeve, just keep them to yourself, and decide what you are going to do. There is more going on than your own fucking sense of morality. I did not survive that much to die, and certainly not by the hand of a pampered Earth boy."

I notice my fist clenching and relaxing, clenching and relaxing. I finally force myself to relax. I remember Heero's arm around me when I was offering Relena support. He was so close I could smell him. I yank the door open and stalk out, cane ticking hard on the floor. The door slams shut. No! I clench my fists. Fuck! The shivering almost wracks my body. Why did I tell him? And why am I so sure... that I will feel Death's touch again in my sleep tonight?

Wufei approaches me; apparently, he has been keeping watch while I was in Heero's room.

"It's no use keeping them locked up." I finish my sentence fast before a jolt of pain causes a high and whining pitch in my voice. He nods and walks with me, his firm tread carefully adjusted to my slow one.

"He is right, you know." No use for mincing words, especially not for this proud warrior. "What are we going to do now? The Alliance just turned our own plans against us. We were going to use Relena to get attention, but now they're depicting us as murderers and themselves as wronged victims, while killing an innocent man in the process. The injustice of this all is daunting me. This is pure evil, I tell you."

"I have to talk to Quatre and Professor G," is my only reply. The cane wobbles, I feel surges of pain emanating through my body. God, when will all this be over?

"Maxwell, you are not well. I suggest you get some rest. Everybody needs some time to think about it, just like when the news of the Gundams was brought to us. This war is becoming grimmer by the moment. We need your strength."

I use the moment to lean on my cane. We have arrived at my room; I'm feeling cold and tired.

"Release them from their cells and give them clothing," I order him. "Keep an eye on them, however."

He mock-salutes me, and I suppress a sigh. I told Wufei, as well as Trowa, not to see me as some kind of commanding officer, but they both bear the remnants of different military training in their youth, and it surfaces now and then; sometimes dead serious, sometimes spontaneous mock humor. We once stole a whole bunch of clothing from an Alliance transport. Wufei was professional and an excellent partner in every way... but during the stakeout he told me lovingly about his wife, and that was the end of the line for me. I will not endanger the life of a married man -- his wife needs him more, especially in this hard life. No one would be crying if I die. I don't leave people behind. I won't leave someone behind.

"What if they want to leave the Underground?"

"We can't really stop them if they want to. Heero is smart enough to estimate his chances, and Relena... I don't think Relena has even thought of leaving here. She's too upset about her father's death. But, if they really want to..."

"We have to think things over carefully," he puts in his two cents.

"Okay," I sigh. "First, I get some rest and then we'll brainstorm about this."

"Don't forget, our offer to bake you a pie still stands."

He wins a laugh from me.

"Sure thing, Wufei. Send my love to Meiran."

"She will be honored," he answers before parting. I wonder for a moment if I can go to Quatre right now, but recalled how he stormed out of the conference room. Watching the news must have been hard for him, dragging up all those memories of his own father being killed in front of his eyes. I close my eyes. Wufei is right -- this war is becoming grimmer by the minute and I can't waste another second daydreaming in a cold hallway.

When I reach Quatre's room, his dean's room luckily having escaped the raid, I hear soft, beautiful music. I knock on the door, and slowly open it. It's a very rare moment that Quatre and Trowa play music together. They both own musical instruments -- Quatre his violin, Trowa a flute. I slip inside the room, and carefully sit down on the floor in a corner to enjoy the music. Quatre notices me when my cane drops on the floor and rolls a few centimeters away.

"Duo!" he exclaims, visibly surprised. "You're up! How do you feel?"

He is careful with his hug, avoiding pressure on my back. Trowa doesn't hug, but I know that he is happy to see me too.

"I thought you were resting. How's the leg?"

"I feel like I've been amputated," I growl. Quatre motions me to the pile of soft cushions on the floor. Crazy Arabians. I smile.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," he grins and to please me, he starts playing. It takes a while for Trowa to recognize the tune but he soon follows with his flute. I enjoy listening and it's over all too soon. When the last tones drift away, the teakettle steams.

"Ah, it's done." Quatre puts down the violin in the appropriate case. Trowa lays down his flute, his fingers carefully wrapping the instrument in a cloth. He winks at me, and rises to help Quatre who is fussing over the proper choice of tea from his stash.

"How are our guests doing?"

"The more important question for me is how you are doing," I say, accepting the cup. To my infinite pleasure I notice it is the cup I gave him for his birthday.

"It provoked a surge of memories I'd rather forget," he admits. "Relena is lucky that only the picture of Darlian was shown on television. I saw it happening in front of me."

I know. He told me all about it. I didn't tell him about the things that happened to me. Sometimes I don't tell everything, no matter how close the people are. This is my past. A past painted in blood, accompanied by Shinigami. And some freakin' nightmares to go.

Trowa takes a sip. "Heero?"

"Subdued. He knew Darlian pretty well of course, the minister paid for his services and studies after his guardian died. I think he was also shocked by the possibility of the Alliance being behind the murder."

They're both silent, so I continue. "Relena was rambling about her father coming to rescue her."

"The girl is in shock." Trowa analyzes the situation, as usual. "She's led a sheltered life, and within a week she has been kidnapped, threatened, attacked, and abandoned, and on top of it all, her father dies thanks to the people she probably trusted the most before. Give her a break."

"She is strong," Quatre chimes in. "She'll get over it, given some time. Unless I am very wrong, this girl is going to make a difference for a lot of people."

I don't even bother to doubt Quatre's words. If he sees something in the girl, the girl is going to be something. His empathic abilities work in more ways than one.

"We cannot stop our plans now." He takes up the conversation. "We have come too far."

"Quatre -- it's no use denying it. The plan has backfired, big time."

He slumps his shoulders.

"Damn!"

We both are stunned. Quatre never swears. Trowa takes calmly a sip of his tea. I don't have to wonder -- they both know perfectly well that I am right. Our plan has backfired, like I said -- with a twist of events that no one could ever have thought of.

"There is a lot more going on here than we ever imagined," he says. His slender fingers caress the violin case.

"Why would the government do this? And why are they eager to get rid of Darlian?"

"Strategically seen, L2 is the first place where this could happen, if they wanted to get rid of Darlian." Trowa speaks up. "This colony is known for its rebellious uprisings and violent outbreaks. Our own reputation works against us."

"Why is the death of Darlian convenient for the Alliance, when he is assigned to improve the relations?" I have difficulty swallowing the chamomile tea. I thought I was used to it.

Trowa shakes his head, sending his auburn bangs from left to right.

"I didn't follow Darlian's politics, but my guess is he was far more progressive than the Alliance thought he was, or maybe he was too much of a defender of colony rights. I do know that he favored the three 'C'-s as he called it: communication, collaboration and coalition."

"He must have posed some threat," Quatre agrees, "otherwise he wouldn't have been killed. On the other hand, maybe he possessed some kind of information that could have put the Alliance in a negative light."

"Maybe he already knew about the Gundams, and threatened to make it public?"

"No, I don't think so." Trowa frowns. "One thing's for sure -- Darlian was one of the most reliable politicians. I don't see him threatening or blackmailing. I guess I can do some more research on the previous murder attempts on his life."

Quatre switches off the heater. "I don't see him as someone with a hidden agenda. I think we have to blame politics -- somewhere they must have felt uncomfortable with his plans."

"They aren't going to get away with this." I put my teacup on the floor. "The Alliance has announced Relena's death, but they must know she is alive. When she continues her father's work, she'll be constantly in danger too." But she'll have Heero around.

"No." Trowa objects. "They'll assume we killed her, now she has no real use for us anymore. Even so, if we didn't kill her, they'll rely on the protective shell around her. Heero is her bodyguard, and they'll hope she falls in love with him, marries him, and becomes a good little housewife somewhere, not caring for interstellar politics, and certainly not for Alliance politics."

Quatre looks like he wants to say "Damn!" again. It doesn't sound very well coming out of his mouth. Trowa has analyzed the situation as he is -- efficient, cool and crystal clear. They are looking at me. I clench my fist.

"One way or another, we're going to find a solution for this. We have to evaluate our options. We have to talk about this. First, we go to Heero."

"You should really take it easy, Duo. You have already put miles on your leg. You cannot risk it having it weakened." Quatre reaches for the teakettle.

"You're right. Well, after dinner I..."

"Duo, Duo are you here?"

The knock on the door startles us all. After Quatre's stern: "Come in!" the door creaks open, and a young boy sticks his head around the corner, searching the room.

"Duo? Prof G sends for ya," he says when he sees me, "he's in his room."

"He wants to see me now?" I look at Quatre. The professor never sends for me, so it must be pretty important. Quatre senses it somehow, because he nods.

"We are not quite finished, but we'll catch up after you've talked to G."

I pick up the cane and rise. Trowa is swift to stand by to my side and whispers: "Remember what we said."

"I will," I smile, and follow the kid outside. He looks at me, and I show him my empty hands. "Sorry kiddo, I don't have candy for you."

"Issokay Duo," he laughs, and takes off with the speed of light. Guess I'm the only one not freaked out by the professor. I have to think very hard to remember where the professor actually has his quarters. I have visited him only once or twice before. When I need to talk to him, I have plenty of opportunities, because I always see him in the conference room.

It suddenly dawns on me that he lives close to my new room. He didn't have to relocate after the raid, otherwise Quatre would have told me. My university is big enough to house many people, even after all the damages. I deliberately move the cane to take a big step. No time to think about the raid. People will pay for what they have done.

It takes me a while, but I reach his room, and I knock firmly on the door.

"G?"

"Come in."

I step inside. The professor whirls around in his chair and rises. The man is smaller than me; his mushroom shaped hair is thick and gray, sweeping over his right eye. I often marvel about the shape of his nose; it has a sharp, pointy angle, and casts such a large shadow that G's other eye is barely visible. Normally, his room is messy and disorderly -- tools, paper, and clutter everywhere. I notice his room is clean. The desk is cleared of all utensils and garbage. In the exact middle of the desk lies a small bundle of paper, neatly put in order. Two pencils with sharp points lie besides it.

"Ya wanted to talk to me?"

There is only one chair in the room, and G motions that I should take it. I grunt my thanks as I sit down. The cane slides down and hits the ground. My hip is killing me; I can't thank whatever God enough that is not completely broken.

"There is something I have to tell you, Duo." His voice sounds deadpan, void of emotion. The hairs on the back of my neck immediately start prickling. I really hate these opening lines. My hands grab the arm support of the chair, and I ignore the knuckles turning white.

"What is it?"

It could be something about those Gundams, something he discovered. But then again, in all those years I have known G, he has never, ever started a conversation like this. It makes my gut tighten... again.

"Yes, you should be nervous," he sighs. "First of all, I want to ask you to allow me to tell you this story, without interruptions. Questions can be asked later."

I snort. "Get on with it."

Fear is coiling in me, and my mind provides with me with all kinds of possibilities. But what he tells me next certainly wasn't one of them.

"I worked for the Alliance."

"You worked for the Alliance?" Luckily for me I have a solid grip on the chair, otherwise I would have fallen off.

"Questions later, Duo, later." He raises his hand as if to stop me, but I don't move. I feel... betrayed of some sort.

"Listen to me carefully. There are four other men like me, four other scientists with the knowledge of mobile suits, and Gundams in particular. Fifteen years ago, things were different." He doesn't look directly at me. "We were employed by the Alliance to design and improve existing mobile suits for participation in battle. They already used our developed Leos, primarily assigned to heavy duty in outer space."

"You designed mobile suits?"

He ignores me. "We were forced to work on a project of creating the ultimate mobile suit -- the one that would give the Alliance total control over the colonies. We were known under codenames -- just the first letter of our name. The others were doctor J, master O, instructor H and doctor S."

"J?" I almost jump from my chair.

"Together we constructed, from titanium, our first mobile suit: the Tallgeese. We scared ourselves to death with it. The power it evoked... it was massive, unaccounted for. We used the Tallgeese for a test flight on L2, testing its beam cannon, its control. It was a disaster. Its motion capability was... is beyond ordinary human bounds. It failed massively, killing the pilot because of the strain, and it crashed on... something. The consequences were enormous."

"That... Tallgeese thing is the same as the designs of the Gundams you showed us?"

The professor eyes me as if I have said something funny and he pauses. After a while, he continues.

"The Tallgeese project was abandoned, and other scientists concentrated on the mass production of the Leo. I continued with the other four, because we didn't want to give up our research. We had recently discovered a new, experimental alloy that can only be refined in outer space, and called it 'gundanium'. However, we couldn't go on working for the Alliance, developing weapons of mass destruction. J in particular became involved in more political currents, and we decided to hide from the Alliance, and continue our research separately. We agreed to use the basics of the Tallgeese for our individual design of a Gundam. I recognize these blueprints, Duo. We maintained contact during the war, planning to get together once in awhile to follow up on our separate designs. We wanted to construct a Gundam for each colony to retaliate against the Alliance. J went even as far as to already search for a pilot."

"Heero," I fill in the blanks. "That why you were interested in him. You wanted to know if J had succeeded in training him."

He ignores me again, his story coming out in a jumble of words.

"We planned Operation Meteor -- five Gundams, each representing one of the five colony clusters. We never got very far. The Alliance caught on to us one way or another, and we had to move quickly, as we were the only ones with the knowledge of refining Gundanium. We didn't want that knowledge to fall in the hands of the Alliance. It was the same time when Heero Yuy was assassinated, and an all-out war broke out sooner than we expected. We managed to run and hide in the chaos that ensued, but lost all means of contact in the process. I am so sorry, so very sorry. We thought at the time we were creating the proper means to reshape the world, but instead we created the destruction of the world."

My mouth turns dry. "You designed the Gundams?" I risked my life to get the fucking plans for fucking machines of mass destruction that you helped design?

He puts his hands in his pockets. I have never seen him look so old.

"This raid could have been well directed to find me." G leans against his desk, head dropped to his chest. "To use me for my knowledge, and force me to finish building the Gundams. I guess the Alliance has either found the lab with the Tallgeese prototype, or they have found one, or all, of the other scientists. The last thing I know of them is that O returned to the L5 colony, and was supposedly killed when it self-detonated. H was last spotted on Earth in some desert, but there has been no news from him ever since. S is also supposed to be dead, even though no one can confirm it, some accident in an asteroid belt. And J... I didn't know where he was, until I learned from the Yuy boy that he also died -- and pretty soon after our separation. He managed to give Heero an extensive training, but not nearly long and good enough."

My mouth feels like I have been eating hay for breakfast, lunch and dinner for the last six fucking months.

"Like I already said," his voice sounds hoarse, "if times were different, and if we were able to finish the Gundams.. I would have built the Deathscythe for you, Duo of Maxwell Church."

Deathscythe. The Grim Reaper. The image of the pitch black Gundam with the scythe flashes for my eyes, and I feel strangely relieved. No other of the Gundams would have suited me better than the massive harbinger of death. It was somehow fitting.

"If times were different, you may not ever have met me at all."

"I don't think so. We were destined to come together, Death and Pestilence."

He turns abruptly, and opens the top drawer of the desk. I watch him rummage inside, and gasp when I see him taking out a gun.

"I am so sorry, young Shinigami."

I rise, cane completely forgotten, and the pain flares through my body. Despite the agonizing pain I back a few steps up, almost breaking my neck by tripping over the chair. But then he turns the gun; handle pointing towards me.

"This is for you."

"Wh.. what?" I sway to regain my balance.

"I can not think of anything else, Duo of Maxwell Church. I have outlived my time long ago. There is nothing else I would welcome more than Shinigami taking my life."

"Stop referring to me like that," I protest weakly.

"In all the years we know each other, I have never asked you anything. I've always commanded you, bossed you, and ordered you. I am not asking you now either. Take it and kill me."

"No." My fists are clenched, knuckles turning white. "I will not kill you."

He stands before me, arm stretched out with the handle of the gun pointing towards me.

"I am not going to beg you."

"I won't listen to this any longer." I turn around and move towards the door. Something tugs at me in my mind, something G said. I dismiss it. I don't want to kill the man just because he thinks he's in some way responsible for the war. I almost moan from the continuous pain. I need to take it easy, but there is just so much that has to be done, and this confession of the professor doesn't make things any easier. I need time to think.

He stretches out his other hand.

"Before you leave, promise me another thing."

"I'm not going to..."

"Another thing, Duo." He looks serious. "It must be destroyed."

"We already talked about destroying the Gundams, G."

His visible eye glitters with something left of his maniacal self.

"I am talking about the Tallgeese, Duo. This is the last mission I'll plan for you. After this, you will kill me."

"No." I growl. "Stop asking that. You are not expendable. Strategy and mission planning..."

"Can by handled by Quatre," he squashes my argument, "I hardly had anything to do with your last mission, I only planned the schedule of the explosives."

"Figures," I say. Hopefully Quatre has not such a millisecond count on schedules, or I'll really burn my ass one of these days. I manage to pick up my cane from the floor without falling.

"What do you mean about the Tallgeese?"

"It's here. On L2."

"What the hell...?"

"It was verified by the last disk you retrieved. Besides access to all the files containing the data about the Gundams, it also contained the whereabouts of the Tallgeese. During the test run, the mobile suit crashed on the colony. We thought it was destroyed in the fire and so... we didn't give it a second thought. We should have known that titanium would not be destroyed by simple fire. The data on the disk shows me that people are working to decipher the refining process of gundanium alloy. If they master the process, the Alliance gets ultimate domination handed on a silver platter."

"You give us the coordinates, and we destroy it. What are you looking at me now?"

"Like I said, I outlived my time long ago. It has to end."

"We don't win a war by killing people."

He stares at me. "We do by killing the people responsible for the war."

"You are not responsible for the war!" I almost scream, the indignant tone altering my voice.

The way he averts his eyes makes my heart pound faster. I wonder if there is more to follow.

"G?"

"Just... just leave, Duo."

I don't answer. I move on some kind of autopilot, because I hold the doorknob and turn it. When I stumble outside, it strikes me that G has twice called me 'Duo of Maxwell Church'. He also called me Shinigami twice. He's never called me that before. My cane shudders as if it cannot bear my weight any longer. Tallgeese used for a test flight on L2, testing its beam control, its control. Test run was a disaster. Motion capability beyond ordinary human bounds. Failed. Crashed on... something. Thought it was destroyed in the fire.

I was around seven when the church was destroyed. I can smell the charred pieces of the burnt building in my nightmares. Did I... have I ever seen the mobile suits of the Alliance fire? Was their firepower enough to destroy all of the church? A vague memory of a blast that came out of nothing. G joining me... the look he sometimes gives me. The insinuations...

"Jesus God Christ!" I spin around, the cane bends, and snaps. As I fall to the ground, hands reaching out to grab the doorknob, I hear the gunshot, echoed by the scattering of the pieces of the cane, and I hit the ground, thoughts completely blank.

Quatre sits by my bed when I wake up. He smiles at me when he notices I'm awake. It's a kind of smile I would like to see everyday when I wake up; it never ceases to amaze me that Quatre is able to genuinely smile, no matter what the circumstances.

"Good to see you again, Duo."

"Hey, this is getting disturbingly familiar." It comes out raspy as I try to sit up straight. I don't miss the sad side to his smile. He rises to help me and after straightening me, he takes his own seat again.

"I don't think I have to ask."

He shakes his blond-haired head. "Nothing could be done."

"I killed him," I can't help sounding beaten. Sometimes, I really want to give up. "I killed him, Quatre."

"You did not." He rises again, only to take a paper cup and put it to my lips. Clean water. I restrain myself not to gulp; years of suppression kick in and I sip cautiously, avoiding any spill of the precious liquid.

"I found the mission plans and details on his desk. I missed some pieces of the puzzle, but I think I get the gist of it."

"We don't have much time."

I push away the blankets and try to swing my legs out of bed. He gently stops me by simply placing his hands on my legs.

"No, Duo. You have to rest."

My face feels flushed, and I notice the mass off hair hanging in front of my eyes. My braid must have come undone.

"We have a lot of work to do."

He increases the pressure of his hands, and with one swift movement he has me lying on my back, and tucks me in like a little kid.

"You have to rest," he repeats, "don't make me set up guards around your bed to watch you get some rest."

"We don't have time for this." The same moment tears flow out of my eyes, over my cheeks, like a dam that succumbs under the pressure.

Without comment Quatre hugs me, arms comforting around me.

"Oh Duo.. poor, poor soul."

"He killed himself, he just killed himself!" I wail. He killed himself after he asked Shinigami to do the job.

"Of course you are grieving about G, Duo. But I think these tears are not all about him."

"Whaddaya mean?" I try to bat his hand away but fail. I ignore the wet stain on his shirt.

He pats me on the back. "Sometimes, all of this is too much for one person to bear, Duo. You really should consider taking on a partner. No, let me finish, and don't start again with your crap. It's crap, and you know it. We are not going to have these same discussions over and over again. I'll just finish by stating that Trowa and Wufei are available as partners."

"Well, maybe when Catherine has her baby, and she isn't leaning on Trowa so much.." I can't believe I'm really considering this.

"And did you ever think of a partner who listens to you? Not only watching your back?"

"You are, aren't you?" I smirk.

He laughs, and flutters his hand through my bangs.

"You are irreplaceable, Duo." He frowns, suddenly serious. "You know very well what I mean. And don't give me that 'I-kill-everybody-around-me' crap either."

"You read my mind."

"I feel your emotions, Duo. That is something completely different."

"Right..."

"Quit it. Do you want me to do your braid?"

"Sure."

He gathers the chestnut strands of hair and braids it rather sloppily, but who am I to complain. I don't want to strangle myself in my sleep with my hair unbound.

"Wufei?" I pick up our conversation.

"He is a very good partner on missions, but not the kind of partner I am talking about."

I ponder until my brains cook.

"You?"

"Of course not." He looks like he wants to smack my head but backs off. "Get some rest, Duo. We'll talk about this later."

I finally get it. "What the hell, Quatre, you are playing matchmaker or something?"

He avoids the pillow I throw at him.

"I'm just saying that being alone all the time is not..."

"Quit it," I roar, and he refrains from any more comments. He picks up the pillow and stuffs it behind my back. I know he wants to say more about the subject matter, but I don't want to. Damn Quatre and his emotional... his emotional commitment.

"Good night, Duo."

I bid him goodnight, and the second he leaves the room I climb out of bed. As soon as I touch the floor, my knees buckle and I almost fall.

"Damn..." I change into my clothes, slowly, trembling. G. What was the man thinking? Was this... some kind of sign?

"We were hardly friends," I speak out loud. The man was a fanatic in his fight against the Alliance, the organization he worked for. I can't get my head around it. The designs of the Tallgeese, the Gundams. It was all his work. If times were different, I would have built the Deathscythe for you, Duo of Maxwell Church. The black Gundam with a scythe, capable of slashing a mobile suit in one movement. Death was appropriate. It has become like a weight on my shoulders.

I don't know why but I am automatically drawn to Heero's cell. It's quiet as a tomb; most of the people are in the new cafeteria for dinner. It reminds me of the rumbling of my own stomach, but I'm used to that. The university feels colder than usual, as if the raid has taken all humanity of it away. As I instructed, there are no more guards around his cell. I push open the door, and I am taken by surprise to actually see him sitting there.

"You're not gone yet?"

He cocks his head, and I see the same surprise in his eyes -- he didn't expect to see me again after the orders I gave.

"Where am I supposed to go?" He sounds strained.

"Relena, maybe."

He snorts. "She is not my priority."

"The girl could use some support, you know. It's not like an everyday event."

"I am very sorry for the loss of her father. Darlian meant a great deal to me too." He looks at me, blue eyes shining with ... with what? Maturity? Age?

He supports his head with his hands. "Relena is strong, like your friend said. She will get over it, just as she can get over me...more other things. When Relena sets her mind to something, she is determined enough to achieve it. She can be stubborn sometimes, though."

"Like you?"

"What do you mean?"

He is puzzled and intrigued. We are not more than five steps away from each other. I realize the same moment I have forgotten my cane, and I am not sure if that's the reason why I am swaying on my feet. I force myself to speak.

"What was she talking about anyway the night I abducted her... you? You said something like: 'That is all I can ever give to you'."

He stands so close to me. I didn't notice him come closer. I didn't even notice him standing up and crossing the distance.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Just... "

He kisses me. I see him approaching, nudging his head towards me, and parting his lips to catch mine. His hands rest on my shoulders and he squeezes gently, as if he wants to take me in his arms and press me tight to him. I close my eyes. The feeling is... warm. Something stirs in my body, in my gut. I bring my hands up, and his hands slide off my shoulders to catch mine.

"Shh." He releases my lower lip to shush me, and resumes his kiss. I stand like a statue, unnaturally unmoving, and he kisses me. It's not dripping with passion, he isn't ravaging my mouth, it's not earth shattering nor do I see stars. But his lips on mine... they're warm, tender, caressing. His fingers are stroking mine. They also feel warm. It's relaxing. It's like I can forget... forget the troubles of life, the here, the now.

He releases me. Only his hands stay connected with mine.

"Duo..."

I realize I'm still standing with my eyes closed and my mouth half open, and quickly come to my senses.

"I... I.." Then nothing more comes out of my mouth.

"I was talking about not having feelings for her... that way," he says, and he smiles. It's like the sun has fought his way through a dark deck of clouds and shines right into my face.

"Heero..." I pronounce his name, rolling off my tongue. I've said his name before, but now it sounds completely different.

"Why..."

"Duo and Heero." He teases me, but I can see the insecurity in his eyes. I didn't kiss him back. Our hands are still connected, and I press our fingers together.

"H-how?"

"I can't say 'the moment I saw you'. Because the moment I saw you, you were a threat to me and Relena."

"You're an Earthling..."

"That sounds very deprecating." He releases one hand to stroke my face. I turn away. He continues to stroke, and his words flow like a calm current.

"Maybe it's time you start telling me about my colony's past and the history you keep referring to. Heero Yuy died twenty years ago. I was born at that moment, and named after one of the greatest spokespersons for peace in history. I know nothing about him, Duo, as I hardly know a thing about you. But I have seen enough to know your astounding strength can..."

"Strength?" I yank myself free. "I have no strength! I can't even take care of all the problems we have! There are so many problems, and I can't offer a solution!"

"You can't do everything on your own," he calmly chides me, but I can't stop.

"We've discovered mobile suit designs more terrifying than all the Leos together! These Gundams are freakin' huge, and so full of power they can easily blow up a colony!"

"Gundams?"

"Huh?" I notice he is not unfamiliar with the word. The realization comes to us at the same time -- doctor J.

Heero takes my right hand again.

"J told me about his work on a Gundam when he trained me. I know what danger they can pose if they fall into the wrong hands, Duo. Let me help you destroy this menace," he says. "It's too dangerous for you alone. Please, let me help you."

His offer is genuine. There is certain harshness in his eyes, drawn by life and the past events. But the lines in his face have also softened; he has lost his hostile attitude. I told him we were enemies, just a day ago. But were we enemies to begin with?

"I can't let you help me."

He pulls me close so we stand chest to chest. He's just a few inches taller than me and I can smell him again. I want to lean forward and bury my head in his chest, relish the strength of another... human being.

"You are fighting a war in yourself," his voice sounds far away, but close enough to hear. "I can't help you if you are fighting so hard against anyone coming from outside. You taught me from all the conversations we had about the reality of this war, Duo. I did not realize how one-sided my thinking was until you showed me that there were more aspects to this war than I could ever possibly imagine. I experienced first-hand the raid and the murder of Darlian... how things have changed... and how things are different. But you, you are fighting one-sided too."

"What do you mean?" My head inclines. My left knee buckles. I'm losing another fight... one against gravity. He puts his hand on the back of my head and I have lost. My arms slide around his waist and he sighs audibly.

"You fight so hard against everyone coming close to you. I recognize it, because I did so myself. Because of my youth, I thought in high school that every fifteen-year-old boy knew three sorts of martial arts and knew how to pilot, like I told you. Relena... Relena wanted to come close, first as friends, then as lovers. She is an honest and genuine person, Duo, and I hurt her terribly by pushing her away. I recognize my own fight in you. We both fight and keep telling ourselves we are better off alone."

"I don't understand you," I say and feel stupid. I have to blink my eyes. I'm not going to cry.

"I don't understand you either," he whispers, and kisses me on the head. "But we are going to understand each other. That's a promise."

I can't recall how long we have been standing there. When I shiver, he draws his arms even closer.

"You forgot your cane," he says. "Shall we go to your room and pick it up?"

"No, we go to the conference room," I lift my head to look straight at him. He smiles again, a wonderful sight. It's like Quatre's smile, with the addition of his natural confidence. We leave the room.

Trowa uses our laptop, tapping and clicking in a steady rhythm. Wufei and Quatre are discussing, both of them with cups of tea firmly in hands. Sally is absent, as she was with the last of our meetings; there are far too many wounded and injured from the raid that need her specific attention.

My eyes flick to the corner of the room where G always sat. The strange feeling of regret hits me when I realize how I was so used to G sitting there -- and it was finally dawning on me that he would never sit there again. Wufei spots me first, follows my look, and he bows for me.

"Maxwell, accept my sincerest apologies. May I ask you what he is doing here?"

It's typically Wufei and if I wasn't feeling remorseful, I would have laughed outright. Trowa has risen from his chair and assumed a defensive stance, while Quatre sips of his tea as if nothing important is happening.

"Guys, this is Heero Yuy," I introduce him, rather redundantly. "Heero, meet Quatre Raberba Winner, Chang Wufei, and Trowa Barton."

He has the balls to confront them all, shaking hands with Quatre and Trowa, and bowing to Wufei. To my relief, they all accept him without resorting to guns or katanas.

"It's an honor to meet you... in different circumstances," he says.

"It's an honor to meet you too, Heero Yuy," Quatre answers, and I sure don't miss the hint of satisfaction in his eyes. I quickly dismiss the idea that Quatre knew Heero would become my partner in some way or another. Wufei eyes him suspiciously from head to toe, and Heero allows it, as if he submits to some examination.

"Are you sure about this, Maxwell, about both of them on walking tours?"

"It's no use," I repeat what I already told him. "We can't keep them in confinement any more. Any advantage we had disappeared with Darlian's death. We have to regroup and evaluate our situation. There isn't any need for them to be locked up anymore. Relena's to be released too."

"I have to discharge Hilde from her guarding duty, then," Wufei informs me. "However, I don't see the girl leaving her room."

"There is nowhere she can go to." Quatre swirls the tea in his cup. I silently bless Trowa for his flask of coffee; he is already pouring the liquid in mugs. He prepares three mugs; his silent, but stoic approval of Heero being part of the group.

"We have to find a way to ship her back to Earth," Heero states. "She has an older brother who can take care of her."

Quatre looks at him with surprise written over his face, but refrains from comment. Wufei crosses his arms before his chest, and his voice sounds irritated.

"Aren't you forgetting someone?"

"Heero has offered to help us," I ignore Wufei, and try to press the advantage of surprise. "I've told him about the Gundams. He knows about the danger they inflict -- his guardian, doctor J, who was an acquaintance of G, helped designing the Gundams, and he was in training to eventually pilot one..."

"What?" Quatre almost spills his precious tea. "Training one of the..."

"All I need is my laptop," Heero interrupts. "I can hack though any system, and I can help you download files or data, schematics, whatever you want."

"Wait a minute," Wufei holds up his hand. "What is going on here? Have you been planning missions without us?"

"We seem to be missing some information here, Duo," Trowa adds calmly.

"And where is your cane anyway? You're exhausting yourself..."

Heero shoves a chair in my direction. "Why don't you sit down, and tell us all about it."

I feel a bit embarrassed when he even helps me sit down, and stretch my bad leg. I must have looked red as hell, and the warmth I'm feeling slowly fades away when I tell them about the conversation with G.

"I thought it was something like that." Quatre closes his eyes in a short moment of grief. "G has written the coordinates of the location of that Tallgeese thing here on L2, in his notes. I couldn't make the connection between the coordinates on that darn disk and another mobile suit. It was salvaged more then twelve years ago."

"Are you sure it's still here? Could the government just not have destroyed it?" Wufei sounds skeptic. It was one thing to discover the designs of those Gundams, but to actually see one finished and on L2...

"From what Duo told me, and what I could make up from G's notes, it was supposed to stay under strict supervision of the Alliance. The refining process of raw gundanium had to be kept secret until they knew the fine details about it, and could produce it on their own. You know the government here wouldn't dare to cross Alliance's orders."

"You're right."

Trowa shoves the laptop towards Heero. "Here, take this one."

He doesn't look at it. "I need my own, this one won't do. My laptop is a special one.. " He blushes and quickly continues, "It's in the hotel... or whatever's left of it."

"Well, it sure isn't there anymore. We're not even talking about a possibility of it being there. A big part of the hotel was destroyed in the Alliance's counter-attack. We can't hold up any hope that it escaped the destruction. We have to find a substitute."

"Maybe it's been retrieved, and put in a lost and found department," Heero thinks out loud.

"This is L2," Wufei corrects him. "The moment you take your eyes off your belongings, it's gone. And you are supposed to be dead -- no one cares for the possessions of an obscure bodyguard after the supposed death of the Darlians anyway. It's either destroyed or stolen in the chaos."

"You can find out if it's stolen," he insists. "It's vital to this mission!" He coughs when he sees four pairs of eyes fixed on him.

"We don't know how the government secured the building the Tallgeese is in. I'm trying to say that with my laptop I can bypass, or hack any system or code to get in, courtesy of J's training..." his voice trails off. "The thief can't use the laptop anyway. It's very well protected, and every program on it can't be used without a password, I coded the passwords myself. They can't be hacked."

"We can always ask Howard. He knows a couple of fences," Trowa suggests. "He's always good for intelligence concerning computer goods."

"Agreed. Okay, you and Wufei are on laptop recovery business," I confirm.

"G has left us detailed mission plans. I am studying them now, but I doubt I will find anything to adjust or to change," Quatre states.

"We need every bit of help we can get."

"I will help too."

We turn around. I either have left the door of the conference room open, or else she must have opened it herself. Relena stands in the doorway.

"Thank you." I acknowledge her offer. I can see what Quatre meant when he said that this girl is going to make a difference for a lot of people. I see strength glittering in her eyes, a determined strength that finally surfaced after her harsh experiences. Her father's death has left its marks on her face, maturing her in some way. Has she done the same as Heero... has she reached the same conclusions, after the confrontation with the real war? Experienced first-handed that things change?

"You're too high profile, Relena," Quatre answers. "If the Alliance discovers that you're still alive, they'll do everything to silence you."

"I will go undercover and have a secret identity." She giggles like a schoolgirl, and for a moment I almost take back my earlier observations on her maturity. But I don't need to worry; she straightens, and her voice sounds calm and composed.

"I'll find a way. I know a few people on Earth. Dorothy Catalonia, Lucrezia Noin. My brother. They need to know what the Alliance really is up to. They can help me."

"You go to Earth as soon as we find you transportation," Heero tells her, matter-of-factly. She doesn't object, doesn't even ask what he is going to do when she isn't around.

"I'll hold a campaign to tell everybody about the real situation on the colonies. My father's death must not be in vain."

"Don't try to assume his office," I warn her. "Quatre is right. You're too visible, and the Alliance won't be pleased to discover you're still alive. They hope we killed you."

Relena sees the logic. "Insinuating that I wouldn't be of any more use after fathers' death. Well, they will learn that the Darlians always come back. I will go to Earth to raise sympathy for your cause."

"It still doesn't explain why your father had to be killed in the first place," Quatre remarks, puzzled. "The Alliance has always had its own reasoning. Everybody knows they're behind the assassination of Heero Yuy, even though nothing ties them to the murder."

"We'll find out, I promise." I direct this to Relena. "He'll be the last in the line of men being murdered for their own beliefs."

"I believe you," she answers, and turns around. Before leaving, she addresses me.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." I notice Heero standing behind me, hands on my shoulders. I'm sure she notices too, but not a word leaves her lips.

Silence falls. One more thing added to the list I already had to do. I slip into my determined I'm-going-after-it-all-by-myself face and my body tenses.

"There is more to discuss," Wufei continues the conversation. "This Tallgeese..."

"Will have to wait until tomorrow." Trowa has shut off the laptop. "We have work to do, Wufei. The Tallgeese is our highest priority. Let's handle things step by step."

Quatre agrees. "We need to see the big picture. With the Tallgeese destroyed, we set back the Alliance for quite a while."

"Agreed," I say. My stomach makes a protesting noise.

"It's time for dinner, I suppose," Trowa says dryly, and we laugh -- a bit nervous to begin with, and soon the rooms fills with uproarious laughter.

We break up. Quatre promises us to have some dinner sent to my room, as I cannot stand on my leg any longer. For a moment I'm afraid that Heero's going to pick me up and carry me all the way, but he walks silently after me, following my slow, unsteady pace.

My room is cold, and I pick up the blanket from my bed to put it around me. Heero's hands on my shoulders feels disturbingly comfortable, as if they always were there... belong there.

"You have marvelous friends," he says. "Wufei seems a little bit reluctant, but in due time he will come to accept me in the group."

"Wufei's hostility isn't personal," I explain. "It's more than natural to him to question every change in the usual pattern."

He chuckles as if I've told him a good joke. "We certainly are a good change from the usual."

"Why do you keep saying "we"?"

"We are what we are," he answers cryptically. "We are us."

"There is no us," I say. "Not in this lifetime." I wrap the blanket even closer, as if I want to crawl inside the cloth. "This is a bad idea."

"I have just been properly introduced to your friends, and they seem to accept us as us," he smiles. This dull ache in my head tells me I want to see him smile, again and again.

"Kissing me once does not mean we are in a lovey-dovey relationship, and all is well."

"They live happily ever after."

"What?"

Again he stands so close I can smell him. Raw. Pure. He wears the clothes Wufei gave him, a moss green shirt, and dark brown slacks.

"If you have ever read a fairy tale, you know that is the standard ending for every one of them. Prince rescues princess, they kiss, and live happily ever after."

"I don't know any fairy tales." I can't suppress the whining tone in my voice. I only know some Bible stories. There was no time for fairy tales. He presses his warm hands to my back and whispers: "We are 'us', Duo. We are."

I turn around, braid whipping.

"I do everything myself."

"I'm not asking you to give up on what you do yourself. God, Duo, this is as difficult for me as it is for you. I don't expect us to fall and weep in each other's arms. We are just beginning... it's confusing for me too. In the few days, I've been questioning my beliefs, my opinions, and my sanity." A soft snicker. "I kept reaching the same conclusion."

"Which is?" He wraps his arms around me, offering a warm shelter in which I can bury myself in.

"I want to be with you. Just... be with you."

Silence. Blessed silence. I nudge my head. His hands slide over my braid.

"We take it from here, and we slowly go on." He drops his voice so low I can hardly hear him, but I know the words. I want to speak, but I can't.

"I cannot offer you a perfect solution," he says. I look up.

"There is no such thing as a perfect solution."

He sighs. "I wish I could offer you more, Duo. I can only hand you myself and hope it's enough for you. However cheesy it may sound... the moment I set my eyes on you, my mind declared you a threat, but my soul decided that it wanted to be with you."

"The first moment I saw you, I shot you," I remind him, chuckling with the memory.

"Only sleeping darts," he grumbles. "Pity I didn't wake up in your arms, but in a cold and rotting cell."

I remain silent. He looks at me, eyes filled with the fear of rejection. He relaxes when I smile and he says, "At least that problem is solved. I want to wake up in your arms every day from now on."

"A-agreed," I mumble. He kisses me on the forehead.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?"

"No." I grin at him. We sit down on the bed and I open my blanket. He shuffles himself underneath it and closes the rag. I put my head against his chest.

"I don't either," he continues, "in fact, I didn't believe in love and all that for a long time. I grew up alone, with only J as an adult and a mentor."

"You didn't have any friends?"

"At high school or university, you mean? No."

"We know nothing about each other. We don't have anything in common." I push him away. Stop fighting this one-sided war in yourself. I am not myself. I am not just Duo Maxwell. There is also Shinigami. There is also The Underground. I am rebel, ruler and commander. And friend. And I want to be... more than a friend.

"Set me free," he says, and I look up, bewildered.

"What?"

"Set me free," he repeats. "Make me have something in common with you. We are going to fight together and we are going to love together."

"You didn't believe in love and all that..."

"We can take it from here," he repeats. "No matter how hard you push, I'm not going away."

"I am not pushing."

"I am not going away." He puts his lips over mine before I can object and I close my eyes and let myself be overwhelmed and God how I am tired but this feels so good so warm and I know my hand is rising to slide over his shoulder and take him into a strong grip because I want him close and never ever let him go.

I wake up with Heero next to me. He's still asleep, his unruly brown hair sticking out under the covers. He snores very softly, his chest steadily rising and falling. The room is still cold, but fortunately not as dark as I had expected. The early morning light seeps through a large crack in the upper east corner. Our clothes are neatly folded, lying on the only stool in the room. I push away the jumble of blankets, and hobble to the pile of clothing. I carefully sort out mine, black as usual. We are us. We take it slowly from here. I pick out his shirt and look at it. A piece of cloth he wore yesterday. The man who claims he wants to be with me. I can't get my head around it. It's only his eyes. I saw them first on a fuzzy static TV screen and they have never left me since.

"Duo? Something wrong?"

I turn around. "No, nothing."

He doesn't push. He leaves me the choice of explaining myself or not. I break the silence.

"I... I have to go to," I say, cringing at my lame remark. He throws away the blankets and takes one step to stand behind me.

"Duo... are you... are you regretting what is going on between us?"

"No, not at all." I am very quick to respond, and I surprise myself by stating it so loud. Guess my soul also knew before I did that I wanted to be with him. We kissed last night until I fell asleep, and I have never slept better.

"It's just that I need to go to the field."

"I'll go with you." Just four words, and it's all I need to hear.

The field is where we bury G, on the outskirts of The Underground. The victims of the Raid are also buried here. It's behind the only building with a closed garden, the least bit of privacy I can grant them. No markers, no stones, just the growing flowers. Only my closest friends have come to attend the funeral. Quatre puts his hand on my shoulder.

"I'm so sorry for you, Duo. I know you've known him for some time, and I think he was good to you, in his own way."

"Thank you, Quatre." We clasp our hands together for a short moment.

Trowa offers his condolences, along with Hilde, and Sally. Wufei wears his white tunic, his symbol of grief and respect for the dead. I thank them all for coming.

"G has made his own choice and I have no choice but to respect it," I say out loud. "I am thankful that I knew him. We'll continue as we've agreed. This war has to come to an end, and he's given us a strong push in the right direction."

Trowa addresses me. "If you want to, you can have some coffee with us." I recognize his way of offering me sympathy, and I gladly accept.

On our way to Quatre's room -- Trowa's being too small to house all six of us -- he tells me about Catherine giving birth to a baby boy. I congratulate him.

"Just another reminder how close life and death really are," he sighs.

"I know," I answer. "I know." I couldn't keep the sadness out of my voice, no matter how much I wanted to. I make a mental note to make sure she gets a gift from me.

Upon entering the room, Wufei halts me and bows. I motion Heero to go forward.

"Accept my sincerest apologies, Maxwell. I have to excuse myself."

"You can't stay for coffee?" I'm really hoping he stays, but he hands me a little orange colored card.

"Howard located the laptop?" I fumble the card with my fingers and pretend to read it. I've had reading lessons, but barely any practice and Wufei knows it. It's an electronic keycard.

"Yes. When we visited him, he had no trouble recalling the thing. Just like Heero said, no one could hack the passwords, rendering it quite inappropriate for use. Howard bought it from a fence, hoping he could take it apart for spare parts. Luckily for us, he hadn't had the time to do it."

"Heero has to give his old clothes to him in exchange," I decide. Heero wears Underground clothing, and as far as I know, he didn't throw away his smelly old clothes. Clean, well made clothing can be sold for a good price on the black market.

"I will tell Howard about his reward," Wufei says.

"So... what's this card for?"

"Howard knows about the Tallgeese. Apparently, G goes way back with him, and they always kept in touch."

"Howard and G were friends?" I'm baffled. It shows once again how little I really know about the Professor.

Wufei shrugs. "I didn't ask, because he clearly didn't want to talk about it. He did tell me that he kept the card all those years."

"What do you mean, 'all those years'?"

"The Sweepers were summoned by the Alliance to salvage the Tallgeese after the crash on the colony. Howard's silence was bought by allowing him to keep some things to himself, like the thrusters and some rockets. He told me it was a horrible job. He also had to bury the body of the young officer who died test piloting the thing. Howard said that the suit crash-landed so hard the titanium had started to melt. He couldn't imagine the kind of heat it would take to melt the alloy. He found parts of the suit two building blocks away."

A church burns. It burns so hard that it melts the ... I take a deep breath. Wufei knows I'm from Maxwell Church, but he doesn't know how long I have been there or whether I stayed long enough to witness the fire and to watch sister Helen die in my arms. Maybe I'll tell him, or Heero, or the others one day how that... event... scarred me.

I tap the card against my chin.

"Great work Wufei. We know the location, and we have a keycard. We're going to blow that thing to kingdom come."

He wants to leave, but he turns around to ask me one more question.

"Duo?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you guys doing the right thing?"

"What?" I almost choke.

"I don't judge you, or Heero. I don't mind you being together with another man. I do mind if he is the right man for you."

"I don't know," I confess. "It's... we are still in the initial phase, I guess. We're both surprised by what we feel for each other... the more because we started off on the wrong foot. I wanted to strangle him first because of his ideas."

"People change, Maxwell," he says with that all-knowing smile on his face.

"We both challenged each other, questioned our own beliefs. His guardian taught him about the history of the colonies and their struggle for independence of the Alliance. He shares our point of view of the cause now."

"I sincerely hope so. I swear on my honor Maxwell, that if he hurts you, I will personally hunt him down and kill him."

"I'll tell him," I tease him. "Thank you."

He grants me a small smile.

I flip the card. "What was the price?"

"Howard didn't mention one. Maybe the relief of getting this off his chest is payment enough."

"Guilt about what?"

"He could have told us about the impending threat of the Gundams sooner. That would have saved us a lot of grief."

"It was our plan to kidnap Relena and to reveal the plans of the Alliance," I object. He shrugs.

"There's no use discussing what could have been or should have been, Maxwell. We all make our own decisions, and we all take responsibility."

"The justice of it all, eh?"

"I only follow my own sense of justice. I take full responsibility of my own actions."

"Thanks, Wufei. Better prepare yourself for the upcoming mission."

I receive another bow and he walks away. He is just out of sight when Heero shows up behind me.

"Are you coming? Your coffee is getting cold."

"Sure."

No one has had breakfast yet, so it surprises me to see that Trowa and Quatre serve solid bread rolls, boiled eggs, and even some marmalade. It tastes heavenly. I sit next to Heero and we share a crumbly piece of cheese. Hilde distributes the coffee mugs, and Sally takes the opportunity to lecture me out about the cane.

"You're still too unstable to walk around without your cane, Duo," she admonishes me with a scowl on her face. "Your leg isn't getting any better by running around like you do. If you don't use the cane, you can forget about your missions for a long while."

I can't help myself -- I flash her the keycard. "After tonight, I'll completely hand myself over to you, miss doctor woman."

She snorts. "I know I can't stop you, but you should really reconsider your plans. If you collapse on your leg and you're all alone in that factory..."

"He is not," Heero interrupts her. "Alone, that is," he continues when he sees her questioning look.

Hilde suddenly smiles, and Sally's eyes light up. "I was wondering why you were walking around freely, Heero."

"I have to thank you for your good medical care," he says.

"I believe it was Duo who wanted to check you out," she quips, "literally."

They laugh. They all laugh. The day started out sad, but it's taking a turn for the better. I can only smile myself, and I taste the coffee -- it's real coffee, not that surrogate gunk we used to drink.

"Trowa, did you...?"

"There was some left from Catherine's baby shower," he says.

"You didn't sell your flute, did you?"

He shakes his head, and I don't question him any further. There are always things people want to keep to themselves.

"Duo, are you serious about tonight?" Even Quatre's drinking coffee, now I've seen it all. I scold myself to keep my mind at the task at hand.

"We can't afford to lose any more time. With each passing day, the Alliance could force a breakthrough in the designs or in the building of the Gundams, or they could move the Tallgeese to somewhere else where we can't reach it. We have the opportunity now, we can't afford to waste it."

"Agreed." Quatre puts down his mug. "I have finished the mission plans. We brief as soon as possible."

"Is there something I can do?" Hilde knows her services are highly appreciated. I know I can count on her.

"Please help Sally prepare the sickbay, in case we need it. And maybe you can contact the same driver we had when we were in the city?"

"Okay," she confirms. "Truck or car?"

"Truck," I answer. "We need a truck for the transport. Lots of explosives."

Her 'Be careful' is soft, and I almost miss it. Heero has taken my hand in his, and I put all my feelings aside for the briefing. This is important. This is war.

Heero watches me while I dress myself. I don't mind being watched -- it's like his presence is comforting, somehow reassuring. My leg hurts when I put on the tight black jeans. I'm still going, despite Sally's objections. This is my mission. I don't know if I'll ever be as strong in this leg as before; I could run like hell and even faster. Sally says I'm very lucky to stand at all. She still wonders that I didn't break my hip and leg in a bazillion pieces.

"This is going to be dangerous," he says, snapping me out of my reverie.

"You're accustomed to dangerous situations. You're a bodyguard."

"Was," he corrects me, slightly amused. "And don't you think being a bodyguard for Relena Darlian was a dangerous situation?"

"Well, maybe carrying her handbag was dangerous," I quip and he laughs. It's a short but genuine laugh, and I like it. He stops abruptly and an awkward silence falls. I strap a pair of perfectly balanced hunting knives on my body. Those things almost cost me my body and my soul, but in the end it was all worth it. I feel safe with the razor sharp weapons, a reassuring weight on my arms.

"Don't you have a gun?"

I look up from my work -- hiding more knives on my body.

"What?"

"Don't you have a gun," he repeats, eyeing me oddly.

"Too much noise, too much weight, unreliable and unstable," I give him my standard answer. I have never worked very well with guns. The ammunition is often expensive and hard to get, even on the black market. You can't re-use the bullets or the shells; at least you can throw a knife again after retrieval. Its major advantage to me is that knives hardly make a sound.

"J trained me with guns," he says, his voice a strangely mixture of amazement and contemplation. "I wondered for so long why he would teach me those strange things. But he had that Gundam pilot thing in his mind all along."

"Planning ahead," I mumble I close the buckles on my boots.

"Did you know which one he would have built for you?" I ask him.

"Huh?"

"Did J ever tell you which one he was building for you?"

If things were different I would have built the Deathscythe for you, Duo of Maxwell Church.

"He did not talk much about it but he referred sometimes to it as the Wing Gundam. I checked the designs you retrieved; it's the one with the buster rifle."

"It would've suited you." As Death would have suited me.

"How do you mean?" He sits on the bed, eyes focused on me, and I can hear the genuine interest in his voice. A partner. The one who listens to me and watches my back. I grin.

He awaits my answer. "How do you mean?"

"I don't know, really," I put on my jacket and zip it up. "It radiates strength. Perseverance. Power."

He dresses himself in dark green and brown clothing, and accepts two knives from me. We finish dressing in complete silence. I help him to hide the knives on his body, and he adjusts the white collar of my shirt under my black sweater. It's before ten o'clock, and the electricity hasn't been cut yet. The harsh light that shines into the room doesn't make it any cozier.

He picks up the bag with his laptop in it, courtesy of Wufei. They had both bowed to each other expressing thanks, and accepting thanks. Heero still has to prove himself in Wufei's eyes, but I know they won't kill each other, judging from the mutual appraising looks in their eyes.

"We have to go."

He stands in the middle of the room.

"Is it always going like this?"

I am baffled by his words, and I stop in my tracks. "Huh?"

He reaches out with his hand and I take it. He pulls me close.

"I am here too, you know."

He kisses me on my brow. He really cares about me. It's like his love is growing for me by the minute, while I... while I stomp around, trampling my emotions to fight my one-sided war. There are so much more sides to this war, there are so much more sides to my emotions than I ever could think of. This is what I am afraid of. I won't be leaving Heero behind, because he is coming with me -- but if he dies... then I am left behind. I don't want this. I don't want Shinigami to take him away from me. I don't want me to take him away from me.

"I am afraid too," he whispers in my ear.

"Yeah." I cannot get more words out of my mouth.

"We will get there," he says and I know he is not referring to the location of the Tallgeese.

"Think of me, Duo. We fight together."

"I know."

A minute of silence. I feel his hand under my chin and he tilts my head.

"A kiss before our return."

"A kiss before our return."

We kiss. We touch. I cannot help wondering about why this feels so natural, so safe. We part.

"Time to go."

Upon arriving at the large hallway of the university, I sport the look on my face that tells everybody not to piss me off; I don't need Heero glaring while standing next to me -- we both are dead serious, as are Wufei and Trowa.

I'm completely dressed in black, Heero in the dark green and brown colors he seems to have adopted, despite his former love of the color blue. Wufei has left his traditional white gown at home and is, like me, clad in black from head to toe. His katana is sheathed in a black holster, following the moves of its master. Trowa's also ready, wearing the same dark green colors as Heero. He carries the bag with explosives.

"Good luck, men," Quatre says reverently. Chang Meiran clings to her husband until the last second -- the soft look in his eyes disappears immediately when he leaves the building, completely focused on the mission at hand. I don't miss the look in Catherine's eyes when she waves at Trowa. To make matters worse, she has her newborn baby in her arms. I tear my eyes away from them and lead out, out into the darkness.

"Let's go!"

Hilde has done a good job by contacting the same driver. He's waiting for us a mile from the Underground, and we jog the distance. The man knows not to ask any questions -- he gets paid with whatever Trowa has put in the little velvet pouch. From the sound if it, jewels are changing hands. Explosions don't come cheap. Nor transport.

We arrive at an abandoned mobile suit factory. It was built by the first colonial constructors for future production of Leos. Needless to say, after the first uprisings of this colony, it became the primary target of the rebels; of rebel groups more violent than ours. It's been re-opened a few times to boost the economy, but it never worked out, and finally, it was shut down. Nowadays, garbage is collected here for further treatment and sorting.

"A fitting stinking place for a stinking suit," Wufei sneers when we climb out of the truck. The driver takes off, and leaves us in the pitch dark on a complex full of barracks and shacks. Heero glares at Wufei, but before he can say something I open my mouth.

"We have a job to do." My standard translation for: 'Everybody shut the fuck up and concentrate'.

Trowa carries the copy of the layout and structure of the buildings and the terrain. We memorized it in one hour; it's a pretty simple complex. We sneak across the terrain using the buildings as cover. I hear Heero cursing.

"What is it?" I don't want any noise during a mission.

"You're too fast. I can't catch up with you."

I just start to think it was a bad idea bringing Heero along, when Wufei admits: "Weaving in and out of shadows is not a gift everybody possesses, Maxwell. You're not alone on this mission, remember."

I refrain from an answer and make the "Let's go!" sign. We proceed to the -- stereotypical -- last barrack on the terrain. Gotta love the predictable, bureaucratic Alliance guys. Before entering, we set up some of the explosions first. We work in utter silence, using the construction lights of the building. We need to hurry, it's almost ten o' clock. We set up a 'ring of fire', as I've come to call it. The charge is high enough to blow up the barrack, but not the suit inside. It also serves as a back-up plan -- if the unexpected happens, and the Alliance shows up for some reason. They all know it -- the suit goes down, and us with it if necessary. We return to the door the same moment the electricity is cut.

I pick the lock. It's old and rusted, and is hardly challenging. When it comes apart, I catch it quickly and pocket the remains. Even though rusted, metal is metal and it might come handy one day. Living on the streets teaches you a lot of things; using the most unthinkable things is one of them. The door opens. I hear the slow unsheathing of Wufei's katana. The blade catches a glimpse of the moon and reflects a weak ray of light in the dark gap. Two red lights flicker on and off.

"Fuck!" My words.

"An electronic lock." Heero's matter-of-fact conclusion. He reaches backward to unzip the bag of his laptop.

"Hey, I can do that," I whisper, feeling the need to defend my skills to him. Heero looks at me with a smirk on his face, and continues to unpack his laptop.

"You cannot open it with that," he points at my lock pick. I fumble in my jacket and hand him the card.

"Inside friends?"

"Howard," I confirm. I jack the card through the slot. I am rewarded with a loud "beep!" and the flashing of one of the red lights.

"Fuck!"

His smirk doesn't escape my notice.

"Sonnuvabi.."

"Ssh," he motions me to be quiet. "I know these locks. If you slide your card three times through the slot, and it's wrong three times, the computer automatically alerts the mainframe. It's a silent alarm."

"The mainframe alerts the authorities and they're bound to respond quickly to a possible breach of security in the old mobile suit factory." Trowa is quick to conclude.

"Why doesn't it work?" Wufei wants to know.

"The locks are changed, or this card is outdated. The codes could also have been changed in between time -- after all, this card was thirteen years old?"

Wufei nods. "Howard had it with him all that time."

"Figures."

I grumble, and watch Heero hook up his laptop at the electronic panel of the door. I help him straighten the cable. After he's plugged in, he starts clicking the laptop keys with a speed that amazes me.

"What are you doing," I whisper, "working with your laptop like that... is that hacking?"

"I am trying to bypass the code by looking in the mainframe for an authorized code. J trained me in this and it was the only thing I really liked. I have many talents," he looks up, his eyes full of mirth. He is amusing himself. Not a second later he murmurs something like: "Just like you" but it could have been "Not like you" or whatever. A 'bzzzt' -- sound opens the door. Great, we're buzzed in.

He extracts the cable, unhooks the laptop, and stuffs it in its protective bag in seconds. I know I'll have a long talk with Heero about this kind of training someday.

The barrack is pitch dark. We simultaneously unwrap our lights; a battery charged lighting rod, smaller and lighter than a flashlight. The light is surprisingly strong for such a small thing -- an invention of professor G. I heave a sigh.

We've had an extensive briefing, and we know what to do. Our microphone and transmission sets have been double-checked; we're all connected to each other. Without a sound, we part. Wufei and Trowa go to the left, Heero and me to the right. It looks to me like a storage barrack. Crates are stacked meters high, and boxes are scattered all over the floor. I have to remember this place; maybe there's good stuff here. I can always return later. Crates, barrels and boxes are strewn everywhere. Heero kneels near a crate and taps on it lightly.

"I think it's hollow."

"Nothin' in it?"

He shakes his head and tries other crates. The barrels open easily; they're filled with shredded paper. Others contain stacks of magazines, and I find a box full of old military shirts. Definitely worth another visit, we can use the clothing anytime. We follow the outlines of the barrack and come up empty. It's full of boxes, barrels, and crates filled with shredded paper.

"Where is the mobile suit?" I ask, irritated. "It's not a thing you put in your back-pack."

We shine our lights, meticulously searching the environment. There is nothing to see here except for all the boxes.

"Do you think they moved it? It's not here anymore?"

"Trowa, did you find something?" I tap on my mouthpiece.

"Negative. A whole bunch of crap."

"Looks like the city's archives or something," I hear Wufei mutter. "Here lies a whole forest worth of shredded paper."

"It's not here. The suit must have been transported to another location."

"Negative. Something is not right." The crackling of the transmission set alters Trowa's voice. "From the outside, the barrack looks at least a hundred meters long. This is not even fifty meters."

"False," Heero interrupts.

"What?"

"False. Fake walls. The suit must be hidden behind a fake wall. Tap on it. There must be a door somewhere."

We start working on both sides, checking the wall and tapping on it. It definitely doesn't sound like a wall should sound; we're on the right track.

"I found it!" Wufei reports. We hastily cross the distance to join him. Sweat trickles off my brow; my leg hurts more than I expected. Not now.

Trowa points with his light on a keyhole, hidden without much effort, behind two crates. There is an 'emergency exit' sign taped on it, accompanied by a poorly drawn skull and crossed bones. We snort simultaneously.

"The only barrack not covered in garbage and they think it's not obvious... not at all."

Heero snickers, and takes over my light to shine at me when I bend to work. I pick the lock within seconds, and push the door aside. It slides into its rail without a sound.

"Oiled," Trowa suggests. "The paint also looks new."

"Get on with it, people," I cannot keep my voice from snarling. There is no time to evaluate; we have a mission to do.

A metal grate stairs leads us down, down into the bowels of the barrack. I really hate metal stairs. Fortunately, everybody wears shoes with soft soles; we hardly make a noise. There is no end to the stairs, and just as I want to say something about it, my foot hits solid ground. I stumble and I would've fallen if it weren't for Heero. I would have smacked my face right on the concrete floor.

"Amateur," Wufei snorts when he passes me. Heero pulls me to my feet.

"Are you all right?"

"Just dandy," I answer. I ignore my leg. My braid clings, disgustingly sticky against my back. We check our transmission equipment, and Trowa, together with Wufei, goes ahead of us, trailing along the wall.

"We must be under ground," Trowa ventures. "I'll try the light."

He flips a switch and one after another lights are flickering on, blinking as if they're awakening from a long sleep. It takes us some time to get used to the rapidly increasing light, and we check for windows. The barrack is sealed off of any natural light. All shadows and darkness are cast away; bright light takes its place, and reveals to us what has been stored here for more than thirteen years.

"God almighty," is the only thing I think of blurting out. The Tallgeese is towering above us; even in a kneeling position the suit reaches the ceiling of this room. Despite years of sole confinement in this place it shines and sparkles, the white color is almost blinding me. The size of the weapon it's holding in its right hand is enough to make me shiver. Heero stands next to me. Even he's short of breath.

"How is it possible that men can come up with... this?"

"Destroy it," I hiss. "It has to be destroyed!"

"Someone is taking good care of it." Trowa calmly walks to a row of lined-up desks, buried under computer panels and equipment. He rummages through the stack of paper on the first desk.

"It looks like it's been recently polished and waxed." Wufei stands close to one of its feet; completely dwarfed. He touches it, hesitantly. "As if it could rise and walk out of here any minute."

"Here are some of the lay-outs." Trowa's voice sounds far, far away.

"It's just like Professor G said," I quietly whisper, uncaring if someone hears it or not.

Heero boots up a computer and starts checking the software on it.

"Let's see if I can download some of this. This is data on a second prototype..."

"Trowa, the bag."

He turns to me and covers the distance with a few steps. He hands me the bag of explosives. I haven't asked him yet what he paid for them. I don't care. Even if he had to sell his soul or mine, this... this monstrosity has to go.

"It has been repaired," Wufei says. I look at him, surprised. My thoughts have narrowed to the suit, and the suit only.

"What?"

"It has been repaired," he repeats. "The suit crash landed, right? According to Howard, the alloy had started to melt. Look here --" he points at the surface of the feet, but I don't move a muscle. "Nothing is damaged. It has been carefully repaired. Like I said, just like it could rise and walk out of here any minute."

I unzip the bag and start distributing. The charges are familiar; they're the same bombs I used on the first mission of Gundam data retrieval. It's an infrared control panel; after we have placed the explosions, I only have to key in the trigger, and it goes off like a domino effect.

"We're lucky this one is not from Gundanium... yet," Wufei sounds disturbed.

"Let's make haste."

Trowa joins us in placing the explosives after he has packed another bag with as much data and paper files he could find. I wouldn't be surprised if he has packed another laptop too. Heero is on the computer, apparently he's forgotten about us. He's downloading every single bit of information on the Tallgeese and placing a virus in return. No one will ever lay his hands on Gundam designs or plans again.

Trowa balances on the head of the Tallgeese, setting charge after charge of explosives as if he's baking pastries. Well, he is very agile after all. His sister taught him from her own experiences with the circus. Wufei's busy planting the charges on the feet, while I work on the body. I set the explosives; my fingers seem to work on their own. We have enough explosions to blast a breach in the colony hull if we want to. It must be enough to blow this thing to smithereens.

"Fuck!"

My earpiece explodes.

"What the hell? Heero!"

"Get away from there! I tripped a silent alarm! Hurry, get out, get out!"

He really sounds panicked. Trowa and Wufei utter both a colorful string of curses.

"How long?"

"The signal goes in multiple directions," I hear his ragged breath and some clicking of keys in the background. "I can't trace it this fast. I... I think it's going to the nearest Alliance detachment!"

"Stay calm!" Wufei barks in the microphone.

"I'm coming down." Trowa sounds like he's amusing himself, but I hear the strain in his voice.

"Be careful." I look at the control panel in my hand. It's literally the key to the explosions; without the command they won't go off. I clench it so tight I hear the case crack.

"Kill the lights!"

Wufei sprints to the switches.

"Trowa, are you down?"

"Kill the lights!" He repeats my command. He must be close to the ground.

"Ready?" Wufei hollers. He reaches forward to flip the switch. The door on top of the metal staircase opens, and Alliance soldiers pour in at the same moment, firing straight away. Wufei falls on the floor, grabbing his upper arm.

"Wufei!"

"Stay where you are, Duo!" Trowa reaches Heero and yanks him at the shoulder, away from the suit. The first soldier to approach Wufei is dead before he knows it. A knife protrudes from his throat and he falls, losing his weapon on the stairs. The second soldier also receives a knife -- Trowa's handiwork. I stand next to the mobile suit with the control panel in my numb fingers. If I set off the fire ring, all exits will be blocked. We won't be getting out of here alive. I hear Wufei groaning in pain through the microphone. I hear the soldiers coming to a halt on the stairs, lining themselves up. They shoulder their guns. They're a goddamn execution squad.

"Duo! Get away from there!"

They all know. They all know the risks. I'm so sorry, Catherine. Your brother won't be coming back. I'm so sorry, Quatre. Your best friend won't be coming back. I'm so sorry, Chang Meiran. Your proud husband won't be coming back. I'm so sorry, Relena. Your Heero won't be coming back. I'm so sorry, Heero. You thought you found freedom and I killed you. I kill everybody who is close.

My fingers press the button.

The explosions rock the building. Distraction has always been a forte of our rebel group; we excel in diversions and distractions. The blast rips away the upper barrack as if it was shredded paper, taking a part of the ceiling of the mobile suit room with it. The staircase creaks and groans, but survives. The Alliance soldiers tumble down; guns clatter on the concrete floor.

Wufei grabs one, forces himself to stand up, and starts firing. They die with gurgling sounds and in pain, victims of the war, victims of their war.

"Duo! Get away!"

Trowa pulls at Heero, bag secured in his arms and plaster and debris all over him. I carry the control panel for the bombs. I take a step back.

"Go! Go!"

"What the fuck! Duo!!"

Trowa pulls harder. The Alliance soldiers are dead, and through the wailing sounds of alarms I can hear more coming. They have a chance of escaping in the mess if they go now. Heero looks behind.

"Duo! Get out of here!"

His voice screeches. My earpiece whistles from the sound. I can hear him without the microphone on. Wufei has advanced to the stairs; he's left the gun on the floor. His katana is unsheathed; that's his way of fighting. Neither he nor Trowa asks questions, or doubts my actions. I take a deep breath.

They're on the stairs. Out of reach. Heero turns around.

"What are you still doing there? Duo!"

It's an infrared control. I don't need to be this close. But I have to stay close. Halfway the stairs. More sirens.

"It got to be destroyed!" I yell. "This thing can't survive!"

"It's not worth it!" He screams. "No Gundam is worth losing you!"

"Death will always win!" My clenched fist hit another button. Now you burn, bitch! Burn like the church!

In the last second I see Trowa hurling Heero towards the door. They've made it up the stairs. The backlash of the explosion sends me crashing into the paper-thin wall and I break through it, landing in some kind of office. The scorch of the fire washes over my back and it hurts like hell. I'm screaming. I'll burn to death too. Death will always win! I... I promised Heero!

"God, no!" I howl as shards of the Gundam pierce through the walls, and the explosion with its fire and debris rips away my clothing, my flesh, my blood, my everything, even my soul is shred to pieces in this pandemonium of sheer violence. Blood for blood. Burn... as it burned before. The blackness is there all too soon.

"Duo?"

Far away. Sounds.. of.. people? Voices... where?

"Dear God, please let him be all right..."

"Please Allah..."

"Duo... can you hear me, Duo? You're here... you're safe... you're with us, Duo of Maxwell Church. My Shinigami. Come back to me, Duo. You're with us. You're with me."

"Careful, Heero."

"Wha..." My voice croaks. This is worse than when I fell after G's suicide. Even worse than after the raid, with the slab of concrete on my hip. Voices... they become clearer.

Someone squeezes my fingers.

"Careful, careful..."

"I know, Sally. Duo, please say something? Can you talk to me?"

"Duwa..." I can't speak. I want to open my eyes, move my fingers, speak, but everything seems heavy and clogged with lead. All my limbs are a dead weight.

"Let him rest, Heero. He's shown signs of consciousness... it's going to be all right."

I try to remember. Heero is with me. I want some sleep. My head is killing me.

When I wake up again, it's because someone is holding a cup of water to my lips. Fresh water. I forget my carefulness and try to haul it all in.

"Slowly. Yes, that's good."

The liquid burns in my throat and I immediately start to cough and heave. I spit out the precious liquid and feel it dripping over my chin. God, I must look like a loon.

A piece of cloth dabs the spatters away.

"Easy, easy."

"I..." My first coherent word is lost in a howling wail. The pain! My back, my arms, my legs...!

"Careful." It's Sally, but I hardly recognize her. If I had a gun, I would have killed myself.

"Don't panic, Duo. You're with us. You're with us."

I'm tucked into bed. I want to sleep. I want to die. Heero's voice sounds like he has a mouthful of potatoes, drifting away from me.

"This is worse than we thought..."

Was it Heero cleaning up my chin? Holding the cup of water? And where is Shinigami? Isn't he supposed to... have taken him away from me?

I wave in and out of consciousness. I've lost all sense of time. I open my eyes to see a gray ceiling. I open my ears to hear hushed and concerned voices, some I recognize and some I don't. I open my fingers to clench them again. I open my heart but nobody's in there.

"Duo?"

"Hm?"

"Duo, open your eyes. It's me, Sally. Open your eyes, please?"

I open them. They don't weigh as much as before. She smiles at me.

"Good. How do you feel?"

"Crap." My voice croaks. I try to move my fingers, my hands, and my legs.

"Easy, Duo, don't overexert yourself. You're facing a long road to recovery." Sally says. I moan.

"What happened?"

"You tell me." She sounds sad. "I cannot think of a reason why you should still be alive, even though it was a narrow escape." Her blond braids slip from her shoulders and dangle in front of me.

"Don't you do that ever again. Trowa told me you were standing way too close to the suit. You are so damn lucky, Duo. I am getting tired of saying that you've got the Maxwell's Demon luck again. You should have been killed."

"The explosion went mainly through the roof." It's Heero. "The suit keeled sideways, otherwise you would have been crushed by it."

"Tell me, Heero," I say. I want to stretch out my hand; I want him to touch me. He stands besides my bed like a statue, his face expressionless, just like when he was a prisoner.

"Those Alliance soldiers were from a special squad that was holding target practice nearby. When the silent alarm went off, they were the first to be warned. I grossly underestimated the security system. I thought I had it disabled with the first electronic lock, but there was another trap built in the computer mainframe. When I started the download of the data on the Tallgeese, I tripped the alarm."

"We didn't know."

"What?"

"We didn't know. About the squad."

"We should have monitored the building. We would have noticed if..."

"I rushed. I wanted it destroyed. It's my fault." I cough. He doesn't even support me. It irritates me, and only after my obvious movements he helps me sit up and puts some pillows behind my back.

"Wufei?" I ask.

"Took a full hit in his upper arm. It penetrated the bone. It was painful surgery, but Sally succeeded in removing the bullet."

I want to thank her, but to my dismay she has left the room. Heero still stands close to me, but there is a distance the size of a colony between us.

"And me?" I hardly dare to ask.

"I could kill you," he answers sadly, "if you hadn't already done it to yourself. Duo, why...?"

"I... I couldn't let this suit... live. I couldn't let it exist and serve as a blueprint for those Gundams. They have no right to exist, no right to terrify us... no right to become the next move in the war. Catherine's kid... our next generation has to be born in freedom."

"And everybody will remember Duo Maxwell," he says with the same sad voice, "as the great leader of the Maxwell's Demon gang, a freedom fighter and a great friend. He will be loved and remembered by all, but he would leave me behind."

He turns around and leaves the room. I have enough time on my hands to mull over his words.

He doesn't visit me for days to come. I meet him for the first time since our first mission together in the conference room. Sally pronounces me strong enough to walk around... that is, sitting in a makeshift wheelchair. She wheels me herself to the room and upon entering, Quatre, Trowa and Wufei cheer and approach me. I look at Wufei's arm in a cast and he assures me he'll be all right. Quatre hugs me, without saying a word, and he hugs me so hard I think my back's going to break. Trowa simply kneels besides me to face me and I whisper to him: "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He pats my hand and rises.

"You're just in time for an update on the news, Duo," Quatre says and points to the erratic screen. I steal a glance from Heero. He looks pale and withdrawn. Next to him sits Relena, dressed in simple gray, her wheat blond hair pulled back in a single ponytail.

"The assault on the former mobile suit factory is the most recent attack from the rebel groups currently terrorizing L2" The reporter looks accordingly disdainful. " The government is considering counter-measures to these so-called gangs who don't seem to realize they are only destabilizing our society. Tensions are high after the death of Vice Foreign Minister Darlian and this new outbreak of violence against the government is considered..."

I motion Trowa to cut the connection. He eyes me oddly, but stands up, reaches for the cable and unplugs it. Quatre looks up; he was intensely studying the news. Wufei slides off the table, white cast painfully visible against his blue and red embroidered shirt.

"Looks like we're back where we started."

"It may look like it, but we are not." Heero rises. Relena follows his movement -- the girlish adoration gone from her eyes, replaced by pride and confidence.

"We have accomplished a great deal by destroying the Tallgeese and its designs, even though the price was almost... too high. It will take the Alliance years and years to start all over again and to get their research back to the same level they were on. We managed to set them back for maybe a decade."

"They still portray us as the bad guys." Wufei taps on his cast. "The Alliance turns every action against us. We are never going to make it if we don't do something about it. We have already been blamed for Darlian's death."

"It will take time for people to figure that out." Relena also rises from her chair. "I speak from experience, first-hand experience. The main problem lies in the fact that people are not confronted with these situations personally. I would not, and did not believe the lies of the Alliance myself, until I was the witness of a terrible raid. And if I can believe it," she addresses us, voice calm and steady, "then everyone can believe it."

"We still have a lot to do." Quatre speaks up. "We need to establish communication between the colonies. We need to set up a coalition between the colonies."

"Establish fair trade and traffic," Heero continues. "Stabilization of climate control."

"Finding a way to broadcast our own news," Trowa adds.

"Raising sympathy. Establishing a solid contact between Earth and the colonies, without lies and fear." Relena eyes me, an expectant look on her face. "When I return to Earth, I will take the data on the Tallgeese with me to show it to the right people on Earth, and inform them of the plans of the Alliance."

Heero nods. I observe the girl. She doesn't cringe for a second.

"That is a lot of work," I say and feel stupid. Quatre stands in front of me.

"And you are not going to do it yourself," he says warningly. I shake my head. I know that the destruction of the Tallgeese did not end the war, and we would live all happily ever after, like Heero said.

Relena touches my shoulder.

"You have surpassed the strength of every human being present here," she says. "We have learned from you to reach for the same strength to keep on going. I am still mourning the death of my father, but, like you, I have to move on, to live on. I'll bring this news to Earth. I hope I can help you with it."

"Thank you," I mutter and feel very flustered. My eyes prickle. I want to hear Heero, I want to hear his voice.

"We are not weaklings. We still stand tall, and we will watch the Alliance crumble and die." Wufei's words reflect his conviction. Trowa crosses his arms before his chest.

"Whatever the Alliance will come up with, we'll think of a way to stop it."

Quatre looks at me, hand placed on his chest, that empathic spot he told me about.

"Duo, you'd better get some rest, you look awfully tired. Heero?"

"I'll take him," he answers monotonously. He pushes my wheelchair out of the room and through the long hallway. The big cracks in the plasterwork and a few chunks of concrete on the floor remind me of the raid. My lonely, beautiful, and scarred university. He brings me to the nursery, and before I can protest, lifts me out of the wheelchair, and puts me on the bed.

"You're so quiet."

"Have you thought about what I have said?"

I am tired, but I want to finish this conversation with him.

"I won't leave you. Not now, not ever."

"I cannot trust you, Duo. You... you kept standing so close to the suit, no matter how much I screamed. You wouldn't move."

"I... maybe I overreacted," I whisper softly. "Heero, I didn't want that suit out in the open... then others could see it and maybe think of finishing it, and bring death and destruction..."

"I know. It wasn't... Duo, this is what I meant by fighting your war one-sided. You didn't think about me. You didn't include me. You didn't listen to me."

"I'm sorry." I feel the sting of tears. I don't want to cry in front of him. I don't want to be so vulnerable in front of him. I don't...

"You told me once about your perfect place, your wonderland, as you called it. Even though the odds are against us, and we don't know how long this war is going to take... I want to help you reach that wonderland of yours, Duo. Please don't leave me out." He leans forward. He is so close he can kiss me. I feel his warm hand stroking mine. He cups my face with his hands.

"Where-ever you are, there will be my wonderland," I say.

"No matter how long the road... we will reach our wonderland." The smile I receive is beautiful -- filled with hope, and confidence. He tilts my chin to kiss me on the lips.

"And even if it is a rocky trail from here, we will take it together, ups and downs."

"Together," I repeat. He climbs next to me in the bed. I ignore my pain to have him spooned him behind me. He nuzzles my neck, and his breath tickles my ear. He doesn't need any more words to tell me to go to sleep. We lay there, in the sick bay, me in bandages and casts, him with his arms around me. A very comfortable position. A position I am already used to. From the first night we were together.

Sleep claims me.

Tomorrow will be another step on our trail to wonderland.