Hey all! How ya doin? It's been awhile but i've finally continued my writing. If any of you remember that fic teaser i posted a little while ago here's the second part to it. If anyone that hasn't read part 1 wants to the link is here.

http://www.egroups.com/message/gw-fan/37602

Please, I beseech you! If anyone has any, any, any small comment, criticism, flame, anything! please e-mail me! MasamuneEHS@hotmail.com is my address. Arigato and enjoy!

Chapter 2- Aftermath

Duo was sharply awakened by the sounds of a large metal door being opened. It took the Deathscythe pilot almost a minute to remember where he was and what exactly had brought him to the cold, hard cot that he lay on now.

/Fuck that hurts!/ He thought as he finally became aware of the sharp throbbing pain in his chest. Duo attempted to feel the wound except he suddenly found his wrists in the strong vise of a huge man that suddenly loomed over him.

"Well, Prince Charming's awake," the man said, leering forward his features impossible to make out but the tone in his voice unmistakable. "Thought you might need a little kiss first."

Duo felt himself begin to panic as he felt the large man begin to crush him down onto the cot and fumble at his zipper. With a slight curse and while keeping his hand firmly on Duo's chest the leach began to remove his boxer shorts. He stopped and looked into Duo's eyes and asked, "I'll bet you want to know what's in this tight package."

"Dr. Anania I think that's not necessary," a cold slightly nasal voice drifted from somewhere in the cell. The large man immediately stopped and looked around the room, fumbling to pull his pants up. Duo managed to prop his head up and saw a dark figure leaning causally against the opposite wall of the cell.

"Report to Chaice in Room 482, K Area," the figure said, slightly adjusting his position. "You are dismissed Doctor."

Mesmerized for a second the would-be-rapist squinted off into the dark as though trying to identify the speaker. Then not sure whether to zip up his pants or exit the room he tried to do both and stumbled slightly. Finally steadying himself the large doctor zipped up his pants and never taking his eyes off the man in the corner walked out of the cell. The room was suddenly very quiet until the mysterious speaker coughed suddenly.

"Gomen," he said, the only feeling noticeable in his voice came from a raspy throat. "I caught a damned cold while waiting here. These cells are the pits, no way I can let you stay in a shitty hole like this."

/It's that OZ sniper/ Duo thought to himself, recalling the rough, hard voice. /Heh can't even see his face this time either/

"So what are you going to do with me?" Duo asked, noticing how weak his voice sounded. The sniper shifted his weight and walked into the light giving Duo his first good look at his face. Duo gasped.

/He can't be much older then me/ he thought, giving the sniper a look over. He was very tall, even more so then Trowa. He was well built with broad shoulders and powerful arms, but for some reason gave off a sense of fragileness. His skin was incredibly pale and he had reddish brown hair that hung over into his face only slightly, almost covering his eyes. /My God his eyes are red!/ Duo noted, for indeed the young soldier's eyes were pigmented in a dull, sad, red color.

"Explosion," the sniper said, noting Duo's gaze. "Chemical fire, burnt away my eyes and left me blind for awhile. But some boys in a lab fixed me up pretty nicely." And indeed the solemn face held no blemishes or signs of damage, but only held the quiet smoldering red eyes.

"And to answer your question," the morose sniper continued, "I'm supposed to interrogate you now. We have very little information on pilots 01, 03 and 04, though 04 is popularly rumored to be one Quatre Raberba Winner, heir to the prestigious mining family on L4."

"If I were you guys I'd be more worried about me, Shinigami," Duo smiled, trying to sound tough but finding small comfort in his comment. The sniper was not impressed but seemed slightly amused.

"We have sufficient information on you," he said seriously, turning away and looking off into the dark. /Ch' this guy sounds just like Heero/ "Born on L2, orphaned, grew up at Maxwell Church, connections with the Sweepers group. We know your blood type, birth date, and your real name."

Duo sucked in his breath. /My real name? How the hell do they know that?/

"It's actually Brian Koral, son of Jack and Cecilia Koral," the sniper said as if commenting on the weather. Not even realizing that this was the first time Duo had ever heard his birth name. "But what's in a name?" he asked the black walls, gesturing slightly with his arms.

Overwhelmed by the onslaught of sudden information and a sick realization of his situation Duo felt his eyes droop and sleep begin to overtake him. He fought to stay awake, not wanting to look like a weak baka.

"So what the hell are you gonna ask me?" Duo said. "I'd sort of hoped to become friends."

This wasn't true obviously but it at least made the sniper turn around. And for a second Duo could have sworn he'd seen the ghost of a smile cross the tall soldier's face. "You're not in very good shape for interrogation right now. And I know Commander Treize would be most upset if you were mistreated. I'm going to let you rest for a little first while I report to him." And then added, "I'll be back soon though, don't worry about anyone bothering you."

"Heh, glad to hear that," Duo said, half jokingly, half thankfully. A smile spread across his face. He could actually get to like this guy. "Plus I need my beauty sleep," he added, stretching his arms and yawning, looking very much like a cat.

This time the smile was plain and genuine as the sniper nodded and then left the room. The warm light made Duo cover his eyes for a moment before the heavy cell door closed again, leaving him in a somewhat heavy but not dreary silence.

"And I don't even know his name," he whispered into the darkness.

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Rashid and the Maganac crew had never seen their Quatre-sama in such an agitated mood, as he was now. The small platinum blonde had been pacing the front room of the large safehouse for more then three hours and had missed tea time. That was unheard of.

Quatre briefly stopped his frustrated vigil when a rather timid Abdul stepped into the room.

"Excuse me Quatre-sama," the Arab whispered, very mindful of Quatre's bad mood. "That OZ strikeforce hasn't moved yet and reinforcements are coming in. They must know we're here. If we wait any longer they'll box us in."

"Any word from Trowa or any of the others?" Quatre asked, not even turning to face Abdul. The concern has evident in his voice and further upset Abdul that he'd have to answer that question.

"No, we've gotten nothing," he replied, knowing that the cause of Quatre's bad mood was his concern for the other pilots, Trowa in particular.

"Trowa..." Quatre sighed under his breath, trying to still think clearly. /I have to trust Trowa that he'll be able to find me someway. We can't afford to stay any longer. Shimatta, why hasn't he contacted us yet? What the hell went wrong?/

Composing himself Quatre turned to face Abdul. "Is Sandrock ready? We'll leave in an hour."

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The three guards were making blatant sexual remarks about "the new boy in 54-A". Anyone could tell. In an army where females were quite uncommon and in strong demand, many had resorted to gratifying their sexual urges via the prisoners. And this one was reported to be a hot one.

"I'll be back in a few hours," the OZ sniper said after reaching the guard station. "And I don't want to find anything wrong with him, understand?"

One of the guards eyed over the black OZ uniform and snickered at the soldier's sunglasses, which had been put on only after leaving the cell. "Give us a fuckin break. As long as he's still in one piece afterwards what the hell do you care?"

"If you even touch him in any way you'll have to pay dearly," the sniper's voice was calm but held a lingering threat that was unmistakable. But this guard was notorious throughout the base for his ego and fiery attitude.

"Ch'! You can't do a fuckin thing, you four eyed asswipe!" the guard spat, rising from his chair. "Don't make me do something crazy like kill you."

"There's many things worse then death," the sniper commented, giving an icy smile.

"Oh yeah tough boy! Like what?"

"Castration." And the tone with which it was said was one not to be answered to rudely.

"You wouldn't!" the big guard said, more out of fear then disbelief.

"I have," the tall soldier replied, his smile fading. "So do you understand me?" for emphasis he removed his sunglasses and glared at the impertinent man.

The rude guard nodded stupidly and the sniper once again put on his shades and continued to walk down the hallway. He only walked a few yards before a yell made him turn.

"Hey yo! Maxim!" a loud, friendly shout came from down the corridor. Another OZ soldier running towards him. Finally catching up and panting the soldier grinned and asked jovially, "What'd you say to that asshole? Looked like he'd have nightmares about you man."

Maxim, the OZ sniper smiled briefly. "Hello Justin, I'd love to talk but I need to report to the commander about the new prisoner."

"Huh? You too? Thought you were better than all that Maxim! Too hot ass items come up today man. I'm talking about cell 54-A and the new mobile suit system. Thought you weren't like those queers though Maxim."

"Hmph, I'm not like them," the tall soldier said, though his mind wandered back into the dark cell. He could only ask himself why he'd acted the way he had. "It really doesn't matter to me if they're gay or not but their behavior is inexcusable."

"Yes indeed Sergeant, their behavior is very inexcusable," The ensign repeated in an innocent mockery of Maxim's voice. "You take everything so damn serious man. Hey, what ya going to tell Commander Roses? `Tightest butthole I've ever had sir. Leanest piece of meat to hit the cell blocks in…'"

"Come off it Justin!" Maxim replied, irritation finally outweighing his calm. "You know it's not like that. I had no luck with interrogation but I was thinking of asking Commander Treize for special assignment. That's all!"

The smile disappeared and Maxim's friend slowed his pace. "Special assignment? To this kid? Oh shit man you really do have it for the kid."

"Justin," Maxim stopped too and faced his friend, the annoyance obvious on his face. "Don't give me shit about this, just let me do what I think is best."

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Seeing someone like Heero Yuy cry is an event that should not be taken unnoticed. The rain had stopped an hour ago but still left a glistening sheen on the grass outside the small hut. Trowa turned away from the window as the whistle from the kettle of boiling water sounded. Removing his gaze from the foliage outside Trowa walked across the small, poorly furnished room and with only the slightest of glances into the cramped bedroom where Heero lay, dead asleep.

/At least he's stopped crying/ Trowa noted as he took the kettle of the stove and broke spaghetti to cook in it. /Maybe in his dreams he'll manage to find some sanctuary/

He'd fled the OZ base with Heero but upon learning that OZ had surrounded their normal safehouse. They'd been forced to take shelter in this small shack that was only supposed to be used "if all hell broke loose" as Wufei once put it.

And indeed it had, during the flight from the OZ base Trowa had struggled mentally. Not only had he needed to take care of Heero, who cried and sobbed and occasionally flung out wildly at him, but was also very worried about Duo and Wufei.

/If they're hurt or if OZ's done anything bad to them then I'll go back there personally and kill them all/ Trowa thought, his emerald eyes flickering in the dim of lightning as the rain began to pour down again.

/Ask yourself, would any of them do the same for you?/ The question formed like a sneer. /Haven't you ever thought about it? About how much you mean to any of them? It's pathetic. You're so desperate for any sort of love or friendship or any little scarp of emotion that others throw at you that you're attaching yourself to these people/

/Don't you know this is still a war? It's the same as it was on L3, they could die any minute. Do you really want to have to deal with the pain of losing another that you attached yourself too?/

It wasn't true though…had he actually ever felt anything for his comrades on L3? The ones that raped him and abused him and broke his soul no. But a few of them were actually pretty nice to him, other kids his own age that lived with him, raised like him to be soulless killing machines. Lots of those kids were dead now. All of them were the same, broken reflections of what they could have been.

Suddenly a crashing sound from the bedroom shook Trowa from his thoughts and he quickly ran to see what had happened. Throwing the bedroom door open he first glanced at the bed and was horrified to see it disheveled and empty. Then the faint sounds of what he could immediately recognize as sobbing reached came from the bathroom. It had to be Heero. But Trowa remained fixed in his place, not sure what to do.

/Leave him his pride, his soul is already destroyed/ one part of him coldly instructed.

But pushing that thought away he strode over to the bathroom and glanced inside. Heero stood amidst a heap of glass that had once been a mirror. A broken hairbrush lay in the sink, sparkling with tiny fragments of glass. And Heero stood, sobbing, staring at the remnants of the mirror the miraculously still hung from the wall, casting back a cracked mirage of him.

Trowa gently walked forward and without a word turned Heero away from the broken image, and walked him back into the bedroom.

-end part 2