FIC - Prices Paid (GW)
Title: Prices Paid
Fandom: Gundam Wing
Pairing: 4x1x2x3x5 overall
Rating: PG
Notes: 30_dogpile Snow's theme 3: Prices
Beta: None
ATTN: Part 2 was completely scrapped and rewritten. - 08/08/2007
Previous
Summary: Paradigm shifts don't have to be hard when you've got good friends around you.
It was quaint. That was Duo’s first impression of the bustling street market as they warily entered the town. Duo had, for some reason, expected the oldest vampire court to be in some crowded, advanced megalopolis. This place still had dirt streets, for tech sake. He supposed the holo-jections on every street corner made up for the ancient state of most of the building facades, but it was disconcerting for a street rat from a metal-on-metal colony. Trees and flowers had fascinated him for hours on end when he’d first set foot on Earth. Heavy gravity and thick atmosphere had made his skin twitchy for days, though. This little speck of backward civilization was even more foreign, and Duo edged closer to Heero as the group paraded down what was quite obviously the main street. It was the only one paved - with stone.
Quatre had decided that they would enter in full view of, well, everyone. The sun was rising to their left, red and gold light streaking low-laying clouds, and the shadows of tall buildings sliding over the five men striding confidently through the surprisingly busy food stalls. A lull in conversation preceded them, vendors and customers alike pausing to watch as they passed. Duo’s fingers picked and twisted and flicked the end of his braid as they moved through the curious populous. It was fascinating, though, to watch his fellow pilots-no-more as they slowly morphed into roles that had been lurking beneath their group awareness for months.
Quatre strode along in the lead, perfect blond hair shining even in the shadows. His back was straight, his stride was confident, and he let power roll off his stance in every subtle nuance while completely ignoring the avid watchers. Quatre could trust that he wasn’t about to be attacked, though. Heero was stalking along behind him, slightly to his right and warned off any would-be trouble with sharp eyes and feral grace. Somehow, Quatre’s poised and polished flair made Heero feel untamed, wild, dangerous. Heero wandered every so often, strayed just beyond Quatre’s enormous bubble of ownership, and a quick snap of fingers brought him trotting back to Quatre’s side. If Duo wasn’t so thankful to keep Heero so close, he might be offended at the display; if it was a display, because Heero, strong-willed and powerful in his own right, had always been quick to follow orders. Any orders. The months after Heero’s self-destruction still caused shivers to creep down Duo’s spine, and he shifted a step closer to his partner while turning his attention elsewhere.
Wufei, still injured but showing no such weakness, had taken up a rear guard behind Duo, so the brunet couldn’t actually see him, but Duo knew Wufei. The Chinese teen had never been partial to trickery of any sort, so he was probably marching along with his head high and senses alert. There was probably a hand on his sword hilt and a focused threat in his dark eyes. Where Heero was playing to a rather unexpected wild side, Wufei was providing a stable balance, a cool and logical warrior to Heero’s hot-blooded, animalistic protector. It was Trowa that caught Duo’s attention, though. The acrobat had wandered into the city as though he really had nothing at all to do with those other young men. He’d paused to browse through some local instruments, fingers tapping a taut drum-skin or fingering a set of finger cymbals. There had been amused chatter with the sellers as they asked vague and oblique questions about Trowa’s companions, and Trowa neatly sidestepped every one. At some point, a young girl, hair burnished copper and eyes bright green, with a physical look about her face similar to Trowa’s, darted out of the crowds and tossed a bright blue and green strip of transparent fabric into the air toward Trowa. She disappeared around a corner before Trowa caught the gauzy stuff, but the small smile made Duo shuffle just a bit toward Quatre’s left, where the performer had ranged his scouting. With a flare of wrist, Trowa tied the fabric around his head, threading it through his hair and making the extravagantly long bangs peek out in a strangely artful fashion, scarf ends trailing merrily down his back, and slowly wandered along the street, ignoring the rest of the vendors and shoppers, hands tucked into his pockets and hips settling into a hypnotic sway that Duo found his own body mimicking. The transformation was not obvious. Trowa still walked just outside of what Duo was beginning to think might be a very real barrier between Quatre and the village people, but the other brunet was suddenly a part of the group again.
Somehow, Duo, stuck in the middle the other four, felt like a child playing at adult games. The entire walk was a public façade played out by his friends and newfound family, and they had never once spoken about it. The other four had simply slipped into roles they were comfortable with: leader, protector, warrior, performer. Duo had felt uncomfortable in his own skin for years before meeting these men. Spirits that talked to him, walked with him, tormented him for days on end had slowly started to leave him alone when he’d met Heero, and there had been a moment when he’d known that this boy, this fellow soldier, was special, was other, and yet was his, Duo’s, but not really because Heero had already been Quatre’s by some set of circumstances that neither had ever explained to him. Yet, Duo had thought that he might have found some place of his own within this odd group when Quatre found him, taught him, made him open his eyes to the vast unknowns of the mystic part of this world. There had been a promise made in those long months after Heero’s death that Quatre would accept Duo as he had Heero. Duo had made him wait for a long time, but Quatre had been patient and kind, and Duo had felt wanted and welcomed even after Heero’s return.
Now, though, Duo couldn’t feel more out of place. What was he doing in the middle of this powerful group, twirling the tip of his braid in his fingers and shifting from one side to the other just behind Quatre, unsure of quite where he was supposed to be. What was he supposed to call the blond now, anyway? Friend, lover, Master?
“Just think of the first time you met him,” Wufei said. His voice was low, and Duo knew that no one saw the man’s lips move. “What were your instincts telling you?”
It was help from an unexpected corner, honestly. Duo had hoped Quatre might give him some direction. Perhaps Heero. Wufei usually kept his own counsel, but Duo felt a relaxation spread through his body at the vague clue. He was certain that Wufei meant for him to think of Quatre, but it was Heero that had really introduced him to the hidden depths of his talents and the connections that could be brought about because of them. Even if the shifter wasn’t aware of it, though Duo suspected that Heero knew a lot more than he ever let on. He smirked at the memory of a soaked Yuy doggedly pointing a gun at Miss Relena. There was a thrill of satisfaction that shot through him, knowing that the blonde princess had never had a chance with her chosen prince. When he’d met Heero, Duo had been pleased to find another pilot, wanted to stand beside him, even if the man had been half-crazy and completely paranoid. So Duo had taken it on himself to keep Heero in touch with the non-militant side of life. Really, he’d been so keen on having someone understand him that Duo was honestly surprised he hadn’t been shot and left for dead simply for his blind enthusiasm. Then the bastard had totally ruined a perfectly good escape by breaking his leg and making Duo watch him put it back in place. Had to be the wolf aspects, now that he thought about it, though.
Quatre’s hand brushed against his, and Duo grinned at the blond. Quatre nodded with a calm assurance that settled Duo’s strange nerves. It had been easier and harder when he met Quatre. Everything in him strained toward the man, urged him to stay close, be attentive, and Duo hadn’t even noticed that he always walked to Quatre’s left. Never behind the blond, not like Heero and Wufei, but bouncing along beside him on whatever adventure they decided to follow. There was an energy around Quatre that settled the voices in Duo’s head, and he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. Which made it difficult to leave Quatre and even harder to return. Once outside of the blond’s influence, Duo was never quite certain of where he wanted to be or where he should be, and the voices screeched and yammered at him for ignoring them. Those stupid voices that wouldn’t shut up urged him to run away and hide someplace where the blond could never find him, control him, own him in ways that Duo had only started to suspect then that Quatre might want.
Yet here he was, claimed and protected and supposedly loved. There was a twinge in his energy, a hot fire that flickered against the chill of his own power, and Duo frowned at Quatre’s indulgent glance. Yeah, he was walking next to Quatre, the sanest child of this city’s Master vampire, and he belonged there. He’d let the rest go for now. Duo could give up his old life and let it take some of his fears with it. As Duo looked to his left to find Trowa smiling softly at the sky while Wufei attentively guarded their backs, or to his right where a magnificently scowling Heero was being brought to heel again by the proud Quatre, Duo decided that he’d pay just about any price to keep these men with him.
~JJ~
Fandom: Gundam Wing
Pairing: 4x1x2x3x5 overall
Rating: PG
Notes: 30_dogpile Snow's theme 3: Prices
Beta: None
ATTN: Part 2 was completely scrapped and rewritten. - 08/08/2007
Previous
Summary: Paradigm shifts don't have to be hard when you've got good friends around you.
It was quaint. That was Duo’s first impression of the bustling street market as they warily entered the town. Duo had, for some reason, expected the oldest vampire court to be in some crowded, advanced megalopolis. This place still had dirt streets, for tech sake. He supposed the holo-jections on every street corner made up for the ancient state of most of the building facades, but it was disconcerting for a street rat from a metal-on-metal colony. Trees and flowers had fascinated him for hours on end when he’d first set foot on Earth. Heavy gravity and thick atmosphere had made his skin twitchy for days, though. This little speck of backward civilization was even more foreign, and Duo edged closer to Heero as the group paraded down what was quite obviously the main street. It was the only one paved - with stone.
Quatre had decided that they would enter in full view of, well, everyone. The sun was rising to their left, red and gold light streaking low-laying clouds, and the shadows of tall buildings sliding over the five men striding confidently through the surprisingly busy food stalls. A lull in conversation preceded them, vendors and customers alike pausing to watch as they passed. Duo’s fingers picked and twisted and flicked the end of his braid as they moved through the curious populous. It was fascinating, though, to watch his fellow pilots-no-more as they slowly morphed into roles that had been lurking beneath their group awareness for months.
Quatre strode along in the lead, perfect blond hair shining even in the shadows. His back was straight, his stride was confident, and he let power roll off his stance in every subtle nuance while completely ignoring the avid watchers. Quatre could trust that he wasn’t about to be attacked, though. Heero was stalking along behind him, slightly to his right and warned off any would-be trouble with sharp eyes and feral grace. Somehow, Quatre’s poised and polished flair made Heero feel untamed, wild, dangerous. Heero wandered every so often, strayed just beyond Quatre’s enormous bubble of ownership, and a quick snap of fingers brought him trotting back to Quatre’s side. If Duo wasn’t so thankful to keep Heero so close, he might be offended at the display; if it was a display, because Heero, strong-willed and powerful in his own right, had always been quick to follow orders. Any orders. The months after Heero’s self-destruction still caused shivers to creep down Duo’s spine, and he shifted a step closer to his partner while turning his attention elsewhere.
Wufei, still injured but showing no such weakness, had taken up a rear guard behind Duo, so the brunet couldn’t actually see him, but Duo knew Wufei. The Chinese teen had never been partial to trickery of any sort, so he was probably marching along with his head high and senses alert. There was probably a hand on his sword hilt and a focused threat in his dark eyes. Where Heero was playing to a rather unexpected wild side, Wufei was providing a stable balance, a cool and logical warrior to Heero’s hot-blooded, animalistic protector. It was Trowa that caught Duo’s attention, though. The acrobat had wandered into the city as though he really had nothing at all to do with those other young men. He’d paused to browse through some local instruments, fingers tapping a taut drum-skin or fingering a set of finger cymbals. There had been amused chatter with the sellers as they asked vague and oblique questions about Trowa’s companions, and Trowa neatly sidestepped every one. At some point, a young girl, hair burnished copper and eyes bright green, with a physical look about her face similar to Trowa’s, darted out of the crowds and tossed a bright blue and green strip of transparent fabric into the air toward Trowa. She disappeared around a corner before Trowa caught the gauzy stuff, but the small smile made Duo shuffle just a bit toward Quatre’s left, where the performer had ranged his scouting. With a flare of wrist, Trowa tied the fabric around his head, threading it through his hair and making the extravagantly long bangs peek out in a strangely artful fashion, scarf ends trailing merrily down his back, and slowly wandered along the street, ignoring the rest of the vendors and shoppers, hands tucked into his pockets and hips settling into a hypnotic sway that Duo found his own body mimicking. The transformation was not obvious. Trowa still walked just outside of what Duo was beginning to think might be a very real barrier between Quatre and the village people, but the other brunet was suddenly a part of the group again.
Somehow, Duo, stuck in the middle the other four, felt like a child playing at adult games. The entire walk was a public façade played out by his friends and newfound family, and they had never once spoken about it. The other four had simply slipped into roles they were comfortable with: leader, protector, warrior, performer. Duo had felt uncomfortable in his own skin for years before meeting these men. Spirits that talked to him, walked with him, tormented him for days on end had slowly started to leave him alone when he’d met Heero, and there had been a moment when he’d known that this boy, this fellow soldier, was special, was other, and yet was his, Duo’s, but not really because Heero had already been Quatre’s by some set of circumstances that neither had ever explained to him. Yet, Duo had thought that he might have found some place of his own within this odd group when Quatre found him, taught him, made him open his eyes to the vast unknowns of the mystic part of this world. There had been a promise made in those long months after Heero’s death that Quatre would accept Duo as he had Heero. Duo had made him wait for a long time, but Quatre had been patient and kind, and Duo had felt wanted and welcomed even after Heero’s return.
Now, though, Duo couldn’t feel more out of place. What was he doing in the middle of this powerful group, twirling the tip of his braid in his fingers and shifting from one side to the other just behind Quatre, unsure of quite where he was supposed to be. What was he supposed to call the blond now, anyway? Friend, lover, Master?
“Just think of the first time you met him,” Wufei said. His voice was low, and Duo knew that no one saw the man’s lips move. “What were your instincts telling you?”
It was help from an unexpected corner, honestly. Duo had hoped Quatre might give him some direction. Perhaps Heero. Wufei usually kept his own counsel, but Duo felt a relaxation spread through his body at the vague clue. He was certain that Wufei meant for him to think of Quatre, but it was Heero that had really introduced him to the hidden depths of his talents and the connections that could be brought about because of them. Even if the shifter wasn’t aware of it, though Duo suspected that Heero knew a lot more than he ever let on. He smirked at the memory of a soaked Yuy doggedly pointing a gun at Miss Relena. There was a thrill of satisfaction that shot through him, knowing that the blonde princess had never had a chance with her chosen prince. When he’d met Heero, Duo had been pleased to find another pilot, wanted to stand beside him, even if the man had been half-crazy and completely paranoid. So Duo had taken it on himself to keep Heero in touch with the non-militant side of life. Really, he’d been so keen on having someone understand him that Duo was honestly surprised he hadn’t been shot and left for dead simply for his blind enthusiasm. Then the bastard had totally ruined a perfectly good escape by breaking his leg and making Duo watch him put it back in place. Had to be the wolf aspects, now that he thought about it, though.
Quatre’s hand brushed against his, and Duo grinned at the blond. Quatre nodded with a calm assurance that settled Duo’s strange nerves. It had been easier and harder when he met Quatre. Everything in him strained toward the man, urged him to stay close, be attentive, and Duo hadn’t even noticed that he always walked to Quatre’s left. Never behind the blond, not like Heero and Wufei, but bouncing along beside him on whatever adventure they decided to follow. There was an energy around Quatre that settled the voices in Duo’s head, and he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. Which made it difficult to leave Quatre and even harder to return. Once outside of the blond’s influence, Duo was never quite certain of where he wanted to be or where he should be, and the voices screeched and yammered at him for ignoring them. Those stupid voices that wouldn’t shut up urged him to run away and hide someplace where the blond could never find him, control him, own him in ways that Duo had only started to suspect then that Quatre might want.
Yet here he was, claimed and protected and supposedly loved. There was a twinge in his energy, a hot fire that flickered against the chill of his own power, and Duo frowned at Quatre’s indulgent glance. Yeah, he was walking next to Quatre, the sanest child of this city’s Master vampire, and he belonged there. He’d let the rest go for now. Duo could give up his old life and let it take some of his fears with it. As Duo looked to his left to find Trowa smiling softly at the sky while Wufei attentively guarded their backs, or to his right where a magnificently scowling Heero was being brought to heel again by the proud Quatre, Duo decided that he’d pay just about any price to keep these men with him.
~JJ~