Title: Tainted Conviction – Part Ten

Author: Sita Seraph

Genre: Angst, Religious relatings

Pairing: 1x2 eventually.

Rated: R

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

          Note: *heavy sigh* I don’t feel very creative at all with this story at the moment…*stares at the words* I think I need some constructive reviews?  Like maybe ‘you could correct this and that’ stuff?  That fuels my writing a lot.  I feel depressed from writer’s block…Help me…

 

Trowa stared at the tissues scattered across the kitchen table, wadded up and thrown aside like frustrating homework.  A man’s broken sobs were the only sound in the room, in the whole house, as Quatre continued to cry with all of his worth.  Trowa watched his friend from across the table as he rocked back and forth in his seat, one hand wrapped around his trembling form and the other with a tissue that kept wiping at his face as tears spilled forth.  His cheeks were red, his eyes swollen and his eyebrows forcefully down over his closed eyelids.  Choked sobs kept throwing up from his throat, making a little cry of internal pain and his body continually shuddered.

A toss of a tissue and Quatre jerked another free from the box next to him.

He had been crying from the same force for a half an hour now, the pain deep and his well of tears endless.  Trowa didn’t know what to do, what to say.  He couldn’t say everything was going to be all right because he didn’t know if it ever would be.  Duo was beginning to lose his mind, that fact was obvious.  His moods would shift too quickly for him to be a sane, normal being.  He even believed the God was punishing him.  God.  An invisible entity.  Angels.  Where would he get such an idea?  Why?  Why would Duo think he needed to be punished?

Because one person out of thousands didn’t believe?  Why punish him?  Why did He strike now?  What had Duo done to made God so furious with him that His own hand would strike a low human being?  It didn’t make sense.  It had no purpose, no right, no…honor.  The thought was insane.

Yet…Who could explain the tiding that had befallen them?  Who could explain the wounds on Duo’s wrists?  Who could explain…what happened an hour ago?  It was too much.  Too much to accept, to believe.  But…what if Duo was right?

Did we Humans make God look all-powerful and full of love because we wanted something to believe in?  Were we so scared in our first steps into our world that we needed something to encourage us as we walked in the darkness?  Was God some being that enjoyed our pain and sorrow?  Had we made everything up like little children and their ghost stories?  It was a frightening, terrifying thought.  That darkness never met light. That when you died, there was nothing comforting in the end of the tunnel. 

Quatre sobbed again and Trowa stared long and hard at his friend.  He was suffering like Duo, taking all the blame upon himself.  Trowa couldn’t just sit around and watch Quatre blame himself for everything.  He wanted to help but he didn’t know how.  What if he made it worse…?

If you hesitant in battle, it will change the outcome of the war.

Trowa gave a soft sigh into the broken air and moved off his seat.  Walking silently to his friend’s side, he knelt down, watching Quatre from a different perspective.  Tears ran free sometimes, dodging the tissue and falling onto his comrade’s lap.  Quatre didn’t notice his presence immediately and it gave time for Trowa to reach out and nudge Quatre’s chin.  The tissue fell away from his red face and he looked up, tears falling like waterfalls over his cheeks.  A sob bubbled past Quatre’s lips and his eyes watered more as his blue orbs met Trowa’s.  He raised his tissue to wipe away the hints of his pain again but Trowa’s free hand caught his wrist.

Quatre stared confused at him.

Slowly, Trowa, without thinking, leaned forward and started kissing his tears away.  Salt water littered past the silent pilot’s lips and into his mouth.  With a thirsty throat, Trowa doubled his efforts and kissed each section of Quatre’s innocent cheeks.

Quatre didn’t move away.  He watched Trowa with wide, blurry eyes as his smooth mouth touched his burning skin, kissing away his pain.  More tears fell from his eyes but he didn’t seem to notice as they were quickly sucked and kissed away.

His cheeks didn’t burn quite as much anymore.

“T-Trowa…” Quatre whispered softly and Trowa pulled back, just barely.  Green embers burned into his eyes, inches from his face.  Quatre lifted a heavy hand, mesmerized by jade orbs in front of him.  His fingertips encountered soft skin of Trowa’s cheek and he caressed, running his curious fingers into his hair.  They must have sat there for a few minutes, the world passing them by in a matter of seconds.  Heavy brown silk covered Quatre’s fingers and he sighed softly, a crushing feeling wrapping around his heart.  He stared at Trowa, heart beating against the crushing force encased around it, and watched as the silent pilot slowly leant forward.  The innocent pilot let his eyes slip close but green jewels still shone through the blackness behind his eyelids.  He felt Trowa’s breath upon his lips and knew he was drawing closer, ever so closer.

Skin brushed skin when suddenly they were interrupted

Quatre’s head jerked up with Trowa’s, eyes incredibly wide, as Duo’s horrified, painful scream broke through the silence of the house.

 

*****

 

Heero pounded up the stairs, taking two at a time, and quickly heard the footsteps of his companions following.  Not taking a breath to wait for them, Heero followed the endless screaming to its source at the middle of the hall, to a closed bedroom.

Heero’s bedroom.

Heero skidded to a stop in front of the wooden door and stared transfixed with horror-filled eyes as screaming spilled forth from inside.  The owner of the voice barely paused for breath, never lost its volume, before it began all over again with the same note.  It was like a broken record, playing over and over again and never stopping.

“Duo!!” Quatre cried, nearly running into the immobile Heero Yuy.  Wufei’s hand reached out and grabbed the knob.  But suddenly he stumbled back with a ring of curses, gripping his hand.

“Wufei?” Quatre called.

Slowly, Wufei raised his fingertips to show his companions.  Beaten red beamed up at them, cold frost lingering at his fingertips.  What kind of magic was this? Wufei thought, staring at his frozen hand.  It was funny; it didn’t even hurt anymore.  Just numb and tingly…

Heero stared hard at the golden knob.  Upon closer inspection, just around the edges, frost lined the yellow hued handle and melted into the door.  Heero glanced secondly at Quatre who had his ears covered tightly and was screaming out Duo’s name.  But over the cries, everything was mute.  Heero’s ears were ringing and if Wufei had yelled into his ear this very moment, he still wouldn’t be able to hear him.  Trowa stood by, uncertainty tainting his features.  So, it was basically up to Heero.

The perfect pilot took a deep breath, braced himself, and then ran forward, slamming himself into the door.

He had never heard anything like it.  The screams.  Filled with unbelievable pain, unspeakable horror.  It rang in their ears; it sang down the hall, it made shuddered the whole house.  The cries of torture had reached deep into Quatre’s gut and seemed to be squeezing it with teasing, pain-giddy fingers.  Duo’s bawls came out loud and strong, coming up to a pitch not even Relena could imitate.  The yells spoke of a man wishing with all his might for death; anything but what was being forced upon him.  Quatre couldn’t help but see nothing but red.  Duo’s blood being splayed across the walls.  Hate and pain burning through the walls of chestnut and stands of russet lying naked across the floor.

SLAM! Quatre’s eyes broke free from his wild imagination as Heero threw all his strength into the door.  It didn’t crash open.  It didn’t bend.  It didn’t even make a creak.  The door stayed a perfect guard to the tortured man behind.

Heero stumbled back, gripping his sore arm, and anger began to burn at his throat.  Duo, so close, was just beyond his reach.  And he couldn’t even get past a fucking door.  Fury began to choke off Heero’s air, making him gasp for air.  Again, he threw himself at the door and it didn’t even budge.  He felt like he was an ant trying to make a stone ten times bigger than he.  Frustration.

“You fucker!!! Whose in there?!  Stop it!!!!” Heero exploded.

Screaming, screaming, endless screaming.

“DUO!!!!” Heero shouted and started punching the door for all its damn faults, for keeping him locked away from his treasure on the other side of the door.  He had to do something; he had to stop it all!  He was the perfect soldier, he could do anything!  No DOOR could trap his Duo away!!!

And then it hit him.

Heero gave a last punch with his abused fists and caught his breath, staring at the wooden fabrics of the door before him.

“DUO!!!!” Heero screamed with all his might, trying to override the cries from inside.  “MY GUN, DUO!!!! GET MY GUN!!!!”

And for a split second, the screaming stopped, leaving the closed-off pilots ears ringing and heads pounding.  But that was all.  Until the silence was broken again.

BAM!BAM!

Heero blinked in shock as two identical holes appeared on either side of his face, burning wood wafting up on his cheek.  The bullets had missed him by a centimeter each.  But that didn’t mean they didn’t catch a different target.

Heero whipped his head around just in time to watch Trowa fall, clutching his bleeding shoulder.  Blood splattered across the wall behind him and Heero watched, fascinated, as Trowa’s usual blank face was covered in complete and utter shock.  He stared across the hall in a daze and Quatre let out a cry, falling next to his sitting companion.

“Trowa!” Quatre cried.

Sometime after the bullets, the screaming had started up again.  Time seemed to be frozen in space, the smell of bloodshed in the air and fearful cries coming from the room beyond their reach.  Then came the second scream.

Wufei’s head whipped up as an animal like wail screeched through the entire house and probably beyond.  No human could make such a howl, as the pitch was beyond the highest reach.  It was like nails digging into chalkboard and Wufei’s heart thumped hard in his chest.  His ears had to be bleeding by now, ringing and hurting like Heero’s beam cannon had been blasted right near his ear.  The scream was short though but it had left something in its wake.  Wufei’s head began to swim and he lowered his head to calm the spinning room.  His head felt so heavy, so dizzy.  Something suddenly caught his eye and Wufei forced his eyes to look beyond the haze to a flickering white light seeping free from under the door.  It was like a white flame…licking at Heero’s feet.  Wufei’s eyes widened.

“Heero!”

Heero looked over at Wufei then turned his head around to look at the door.  Too late.  There was a blast of light, so bright that Heero knew he had to have gone blind.  He tried to lift his hands to brace from the oncoming blow but they seemed frozen in place.  The screaming had gotten louder.

Quatre watched with wide eyes as a flash of light appeared and Heero’s form became nothing but a silhouette in the halo of light.  Then suddenly, he was flying through the air, arms finally lifting to shield himself but it was too late.

SLAM!!!!!!!!

Heero’s body had twisted in mid air and collided with the wall.  A deep dent broke into the wall, leaving a crater in its wake, and cracks to run up along the wall.  And as if in slow motion, Heero fell from the wall, falling limply upon the ground with a slump as particles of dust and barrage came down with him.  Paint debris rain over his limp form as Heero remained immobile on the floor.  The screaming had stopped upon impact.

“HEERO!!!” Quatre screamed.

Click.

                The door slid open.