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<![CDATA[Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, nor am I making any money
from this. The concept of the confessor is from Terry Goodkind's
Sword of Truth novels.
Warnings: Violence, angst, shounen-ai, lots of liches
Pairings: 1+2 3+4
Note: For those of you that don't know, a lich is an animated
corpse ;-)
{ } denotes dream sequence
The Confessor Series
Part 12
Nightmares and Dreams
It took about four hours to get out of the gorge. They had to
clear a path through the rubble and lead the horses past all the
blood-smeared bones back to the main corridor before they could
remount. Heero held Quatre's still form while Trowa climbed onto
Heavyarms, then lifted the mage up onto the saddle in front of
the archer. Trowa cradled the unconscious blond in his arms as
he rode the sturdy chestnut through the winding canyon. Wufei,
riding Shenlong, led Sandrock. Nobody had anything to say. Not
even Duo.
The sun was setting by the time they exited the King's Gorge,
long shadows running before them as they headed east through the
rolling hills that would gradually level out into the Korona
Plains. Waist high grass rippled around them like a vast ocean.
Following a wide dirt path, they stayed at a steady rocking
canter, mindful of Heavyarms' burden.
It was twilight before Heero finally called a halt. They made
camp a little ways from the path among the waving grasses.
Insects hummed quietly, filling the silence between the group
members. The small fire cracked and popped cheerfully and still
nobody said a word as they ate a meager dinner. Each of them was
waiting for the young mage to regain consciousness. Unable to
take the silence anymore, Duo stood up.
"I'll take first watch," he volunteered and fled the circle of
light cast by the fire.
Duo made his way over to a small grass-covered hill where he
could see in any direction. Sitting down he drew his sword and
placed it across his lap so it would be ready to use at a
second's notice. He caught a small movement out of the corner of
his eye and turned his head. Shinigami was grazing nearby. He
smiled softly to himself. The shadowmare would alert him to any
intruders long before he could see them. Sighing softly, he
settled down to watch the moons rise and to think about the day's
events.
The others watched Duo leave, their faces devoid of emotion.
Wufei shook his head and went about his nightly ritual of
polishing his sword. It had seen a lot of action that day and he
wanted to be sure that he didn't miss a speck of minotaur blood.
He didn't seem to care that his uniform were still covered in it.
As the first of the two moons began to rise, they spread their
blankets out on the ground and settled in for some much needed
sleep. Trowa never left Quatre's side; he had laid his blanket
right next to the blonde's, so he would be sure to wake up at the
slightest movement.
But as sleep claimed them one by one, so did their dreams.
As Wufei drifted off to sleep, he thought about the fight in the
gorge again. He had fought with all his skill but no matter how
many monsters he had killed, there was always another one right
behind it. Deep inside he knew that if Duo and Quatre hadn't
done what they did, sooner or later he and Heero could have been
overwhelmed. As he was considering the unpleasant implications,
he fell asleep.
{Wufei found himself walking along the edge of a graveyard.
Somewhere, he could hear the wind blowing but the air around him
was utterly still. He could see his breath misting up into the
starless night sky. Feeling uneasy he drew his sword, the weight
was reassuring in his hand.
He looked around but there was nothing. Except for the
graveyard, the open plains stretched uninterrupted in every
direction. All was silent except for that distant wind and his
breathing. The graveyard wasn't much of one. It was just a few
weather-eaten crosses and grass-covered mounds of earth. But
there was a stench in the air that smelled of charnel pits.
A sound of tearing earth drew his attention. He turned and saw
something moving at one of the graves at the far end of the
graveyard. Taking a few steps nearer, he could see it was a
clawed hand protruding from the grass covering the mound. Wufei
tightened his grip on his sword. He wasn't afraid; he knew he
could never be beaten in a fight, especially not by a lich.
The lich continued to claw its way out of the rotted earth. Mud
dripped down the fingers as they flexed. A bony arm followed,
along with a decaying skull. With a loud sucking sound the rest
of it emerged from the grave that should have confined it for all
time. It stood unsteadily on its rotting legs and turned to
Wufei. Even though its eyes had long since been eaten away by
worms, he knew it could see him. It had been clothed once but all
that remained where filthy strips of rags held together by muck
and foulness. It took a stumbling step toward him.
'I have never fought a lich before, this should be interesting'
he though with anticipation.
Wufei waited as the lich staggered to him, his sword ready.
When it was near enough he slashed his sword across the lich's
rotting midsection so fast that a human eye couldn't follow the
movement. But the lich dodged easily, it was surprising quick for
a dead thing. Unfazed Wufei merely brought the sword back on the
return stroke. The sword sank deep into the lich's chest, and
stuck there.
Wufei yanked with all his might and jerked it free but that brief
time the lich had grabbed his wrist in a crushing grip. The
hollow eye sockets stared into his onyx ones and involuntarily he
shuddered at the hatred he felt there. Gripping the sword in his
other hand, he sliced through the decaying wrist to free himself.
The dead hand stuck there, cutting off the circulation and he
shook his arm to get rid of it. The hand flew free and landed on
the ground a few feet away still twitching. He grimaced in
disgust but did not let his attention wander away from the rest
of the lich.
He raised his sword again. This time he sliced across the neck,
severing the head. The skull bounced on the ground and rolled.
It ended face up and he could still feel the eyes on him. The
body continued to fight, though now it was clumsier because the
head wasn't there is direct it. He literally had to hack it
apart before it stopped coming after him.
After the lich was laying on the ground in several dozen pieces,
he sheathed his sword and looked around as he easily caught his
breath. Wufei frowned. The unfelt wind was still blowing in the
distance. Then another sound caught his attention. He looked
back at the graveyard again and froze. Three more liches were
clawing their way out of the earth. He drew his sword again,
noticing with displeasure that the blade was smeared with dirt
and gore. He drew a deep breath and went on the offensive,
attacking them before they could attack him. But as he attacked,
still more liches were making their way out of the sour earth.
He didn't stop to count them.
Wufei grinned but there was no humor in it. He had always wanted
a challenge. He was a bladesmaster; he was going to prove that
he was unbeatable against both the living and the dead.
He didn't notice that even more liches were crawling out of the
plains.}
Duo sat on the grassy mound, his knees drawn up to his chin. The
first moon had risen and he hadn't noticed it at all. All he
could see was the look of hatred on Trowa's blood-smeared face
and the blank look on Quatre's. He hadn't wanted to look at
Heero at all. Heero's hate was something he didn't know if he
could live with. But when he started thinking about what he
would be doing in the next few weeks, he decided that living with
Heero's hatred was something that he needn't worry about.
He chuckled mirthlessly at himself and settled back to watch the
second moonrise.
Trowa checked Quatre one last time. There was no change in the
mage's blank expression. He knew that Duo had only done what he
had to, but it was easier to be mad at the confessor than to
accept the fact that Quatre might never again be the person he
had fallen in love with. Not knowing how to deal with the loss,
he had lashed out at Duo. He didn't regret what he had said,
though. It would have been better if Quatre had died at Heero's
sword instead of becoming Duo's mindless zombie. Because if
Quatre wasn't himself, then Trowa decided that he would kill the
mage himself instead of living with a sick parody.
As he lay there thinking, he felt sleep slide up to him and he
surrendered to its peaceful beckoning.
{Trowa walked through the silent forest. No birds sang, no
insects buzzed. It was completely silent except for his
heartbeat, and a wind that blew in the distance. No leaves on
the trees stirred and the sun shone down unnaturally bright. He
squinted up through the dappled shadows into the branches up
above. Everything seemed to be ok but he knew it wasn't.
He made his way to a meadow and stopped
Flowing dark clouds were quickly covering the sun and the air
grew chilly. Oppressiveness grew heavy in the air as the storm
approached. The shadows under the trees surrounding the meadow
grew deeper. Trowa shivered unconsciously. He could feel a
presence those shadows, watching him. Something was waiting out
there in the darkness, gathering its strength.
He strung his bow and nocked an arrow. He searched for a target
but none presented itself. He relaxed his stance and rested the
bow against his side. Still nothing moved. He tried to take a
step and nearly fell over. He looked down and saw that the grass
had grown up around his ankles, binding his feet to the ground.
He drew a knife from his boot and cut the grass, freeing himself.
But even as he cut, the grass grew back. With increased
desperation he hacked at the grass until he was able to rip his
boots free and ran for the safety of a nearby tree. He leaned
against the bark, ready to jump up into the tree at any sign of
movement from under his feet. He was watching the ground with
suspicion when he felt the tree sag away from his weight. He
stood up and turned to see what was wrong with the tree. It was
dead, eaten away from within. The stench of rot rose thickly in
the air. The tree suddenly moved and Trowa jumped back, only to
be wrapped in the dead branches of another tree behind him.
He struggled furiously but the decaying branches were stronger
than steel. They tightened around his chest, crushing the air
from his lungs. He felt the branches lifting him into the air
and his feet kicked helplessly.
'This isn't real! This can't be happening!' he thought
desperately. 'The forest isn't like this!'
But the branches continued to tighten.}
Duo sat up, finally back in the here and now. He realized that it
was past the time that he should have been relived. Frowning, he
decided to wait a little longer. Maybe his internal clock was
wrong and it just seemed later.
Heero had watched Duo leave the light of the fire. He knew Trowa
had meant it when he said he would kill the confessor. But Heero
knew that he couldn't allow it. It was their mission to protect
the violet-eyed young man until they could confront and defeat
the wizards. That one person was their best hope for winning the
war. Without Duo, they didn't stand a chance against Odin Lowe's
forces.
Turning these thoughts over in his head, he drifted into a deep
sleep where dreams lurked.
{Heero stood outside the door of Treize's office. He had been
summoned but he didn't know why. He knocked and waited for an
invitation but none came. He knocked a second time, a little
louder. Again there was no answer. Finally he put out his hand
to open the door and it swung silently open. There was no one
inside. Frowning, he entered the office. He noticed a strange
smell and it reminded him of a mausoleum. Not knowing where that
comparison came from, he inspected the office.
The usually impeccable office was in shambles. Papers and
furniture were scattered about on the floor and Treize's desk
looked like it had been hacked apart. Deep scratches lined the
woodwork and the windows were smashed, from the inside judging
from the spray pattern from the glass. The only thing untouched
in the whole room was the chair behind the desk. It had been
tipped over but appeared to be intact. Heero looked up and saw a
hangman's noose dangling above it.
He turned around, noticing for the first time how silent the
normally busy palace was.
He walked through the empty palace. He stopped frequently to
look inside various rooms but each room was empty, silent. And
most disturbing of all, he began to notice bloodstains. At first
he didn't recognize them because they were old and dried. It
looked like someone had spilled paint. But, as they appeared
more and more frequently he knew with certainty what they were.
The closer he got to the entrance of the palace, the more blood
he found. But he didn't find any bodies.
Finally he walked out of the palace and into the sun-filled
courtyard and stopped.
He had found them.
The courtyard was filled with the dead inhabitants of the palace.
There were so many bodies that they were stacked up like
cordwood. He recognized Sally Po and Howard. Each had terrible
wounds all over their bodies and was covered in dried blood. He
saw Treize's secretary over against the wall with her skull caved
in. Men, women and children showed signs of violent deaths and
most were caked with blood and gore. He wondered why they had
been brought here.
He whirled around drawing his sword at a scuffling sound behind
him. And took an involuntary step back in shock.
General Treize was standing in the entrance to the courtyard.
His face was pasty white and he carried his head at an unnatural
angle, showing a livid rope burn around his neck. He smiled at
Heero, and gestured for the cobalt-eyed soldier to come closer.
Heero shook his head, unwilling to believe what his eyes were
telling him. The General pointed to something off to Heero's
right.
His gazed followed the pointing arm and felt all the blood drain
away from his face.
A familiar form was huddled on the ground. He sheathed his sword
and ran over to it. It flinched away from his touch, crying out
in pain. Hesitantly he touched the shivering form again.
"Duo?" he asked.
Duo raised his head and Heero cried out loud. Duo's eyes were
gone. Someone had cut them out and left just the bloody sockets.
"Heero?" he whimpered.
"Oh, Duo what happened?" He whispered in agony.
"You were supposed to protect me, why didn't you?" Duo sobbed,
but no tears could come from that mutilated face.
"You failed your mission Heero Yuy." General Treize said behind
him, his voice harsh and grating from the rope.
"No!" Heero shook his head in vehement denial. He wouldn't fail
a mission.
The general went on as if he hadn't heard Heero.
"Because you failed, Golgatha conquered us and killed us all.
This is your fault." The General started walking toward him.
Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. One
of the corpses in the courtyard had turned its head and looked at
him. He felt himself go cold as all the corpses slowly stirred
and stared at him with accusing eyes. Still holding the blind
confessor in his arms, he backed away from the hatred he felt
flowing off of them.
"I have not failed, I will not fail. This is not real." Heero
knew deep down he was right. It wasn't real. But even as he
felt sure that it wasn't, the mass of corpses began to untangle
themselves.
The dead citizens of Virimonde started to crawl toward him.}
Duo made his way back to camp; by now he was very concerned. The
remains of the fire cast a soft glow on the blanket-covered
sleepers. There was no sign of movement from any of them.
Puzzled, he stopped and studied them. One of them should have
come out to relieve him. But now they seemed almost dead to the
world. He shivered and wished that thought hadn't crossed his
mind.
As he stared, he noticed that Trowa, who was sleeping nearest to
him, seemed to be having trouble breathing. He walked over to him
and bent over to see what was wrong. Trowa seemed to be caught
in a nightmare. A soft whimper tore from the quiet scout's
throat. Concerned, Duo put out his hand on his shoulder to shake
Trowa awake.
The minute he touched the sleeping archer, Trowa jerked
violently, crying out.
"Trowa, wake up!" Duo called his name and caught the flailing arm
in a firm grasp, attempting to break the nightmare's hold.
But instead of waking up, Trowa grabbed Duo's wrist with his free
hand. With a burst of terror-induced strength, he twisted his
arm free and Duo screamed as he felt his bones snap. He fell
back, clutching his broken wrist to his chest and staring at
Trowa in disbelief. The archer was sitting up and awake now,
fighting through whatever bad visions plagued him. He was
pulling in great gasps of air, as if he hadn't been able to
breath in a long time.
"Guess you're still mad at me, huh?" Duo asked as he gritted his
teeth, agony pulsing up his arm.
Shocked, Trowa stared at him through the thick fall of auburn
hair. The nightmare had completely unnerved him. Duo watched
him, still clutching his wrist, concern and understanding
suddenly filled his violet eyes.
"It was a nightmare," Duo stated gently. He knew all about them.
Trowa licked his dry lips, trying to calm his racing heart. He
nodded.
"Relax, you're safe now. Would you like some water?" Duo spoke
softly, like he was trying to calm a skittish colt. His wrist
hurt like hell, but he ignored it for the time being.
Trowa nodded again. Later he would feel a little sheepish for
being so scared, but now with the dream still fresh in his mind,
he was grateful for even the confessor's presence.
Duo one-handedly retrieved the water bag from where it was
sitting by his pack and gave it to Trowa. The archer drank a few
sips. The nightmare was fading with each passing heartbeat.
Soon, he felt confident enough to speak.
"Thank you," he said, his soft voice steady.
Duo shrugged it off.
"I should have known better, I'm just glad you didn't have your
knife," he said, a ghost of a smile twitching across his lips.
Turning to the others, Duo noticed that they seemed to be
sleeping peacefully, thank goodness. He wouldn't want to try to
wake them up by shaking them after what Trowa had done. Heero
and Wufei both slept with unsheathed swords.
Then it occurred to Duo that neither Heero nor Wufei had awakened
when he had yelled Trowa's name.
"Crap," he muttered. Now that he was looking for it, he could
see the tension in their bodies. They weren't sleeping; instead
they were fighting nightmares too.
He looked around for something to awaken them that would
hopefully be less personally damaging than his recent encounter
with the scout. He saw the water bag still in Trowa's hand.
"Can I have that please?" He held his good hand out and Trowa
gave the bag to him.
Wavering uncertainly between the two, Duo mentally flipped a coin
and chose Heero. Standing close enough to the Major and poised
to run, Duo upended the water bag on the sleeping soldier.
Heero shot out of his blanket with his extra sword in his hand,
looking for a target. Water ran down his face and his dark hair
was plastered to his skull. He shook his head, trying to clear
his cobalt eyes and saw Duo standing nearby with and empty water
bag and a mixture of terror and glee on his face.
"Duo, I am going to kill you," he growled.
"Heero I'm sorry you were having a nightmare so I was trying to
wake you up only I didn't want you to stab me with your sword
because Trowa already broke my wrist when I tried to wake him up
that's why I used water because I couldn't wake you up by yelling
and ." Duo babbled, slightly hysterical.
"Duo shut up," Heero said tiredly and he sheathed his sword.
Duo closed his mouth. Surprisingly, Trowa came to Duo's defense.
"Duo's right, you were having a nightmare. When he woke me up, I
was so caught in the nightmare I reacted instinctively and broke
his wrist." Trowa paused. "And did you notice that it's past
time to change the watch?"
Both Duo and Heero were staring at him. They had never heard him
say so much at once.
Thinking about it, Heero frowned. Trowa was right. Duo had come
all the way back to the camp. No one had gone out to relieve him.
There was something seriously wrong.
Duo turned to Wufei. He could see sweat on the blades master's
face and he was panting for breath. Since Duo's water bag was
empty, he asked Trowa if he could borrow his.
"Sure, but don't use the whole thing."
After a wet Wufei had been calmed down, they held a small
conference. All three of the sleeping soldiers had had
nightmares from which they couldn't wake up. One or two
imprisoning dreams could have been a coincidence; but three were
too much.
"It has to be more magic," Wufei decided.
"Can you sense anything?" Heero asked. With Quatre
incapacitated, Wufei was the only one left in the group who could
sense magic.
Wufei frowned, then nodded.
"Yes, now that I am looking for it, I can feel it. It's very
subtle. Whoever did this is very good."
Heero drew in a deep breath. More magic. Both this spell and the
spell in the gorge had been designed to hinder and kill. He
thought he could detect a pattern emerging. Because it was the
quickest route, Oz's army would be coming though the gorge and
across the plains. Someone had laid booby traps for the army,
intending to slow it down and kill as many soldiers as possible
before they made it to the Sank kingdom.
"The wizards," he said.
The others looked at him solemnly.
"We have to warn Treize," Trowa said thoughtfully.
"How? Quatre is the only one who can communicate long distances
and he's unconscious." Wufei said bluntly.
Trowa glanced over at the blond mage and stiffened. Quatre's
sleeping face had an anxious expression. He leaned over and
touched the furrowed brow under the pale bangs.
"He's dreaming," Duo said.
{Quatre was standing alone on the dark plains. He could hear
voices in the distance. He cocked his head and listened
intently. They seemed to be discussing something important.
He looked down and saw a sickly green mist covering the ground as
far as he could see, but the ground around his feet was clear.
Obeying some inner impulse, he set out to find the source of the
unfamiliar voices. As he walked the mist would part in front of
him, as if it was repelled by his touch. This went on for quite
awhile. Then at the top of a hill he stopped. He had found them.
The speakers were five of the strangest looking old men Quatre
had ever seen. All of them were engaged in various magical
spells. He couldn't fathom why they were jointly spell casting.
One was medium height with long white hair. The others called him
J. There was a cold air of menace that seemed to hang around him
like a shroud. The air around him literally crackled with power.
The second was shorter with gray hair the shape of a mushroom on
top of his head, and a long pointy nose set between two cunning
and shifty eyes. G seemed to be his designation. That one was
doing something that was causing the green mist to flow out over
the plains.
The third had short white hair that stood on end and the
strangest nose Quatre had ever seen. The nose didn't look real.
He went by the title S. That wizard was responsible for a spell
with a familiar feeling. Quatre could feel hate and madness
vibrating in the air.
The fourth wizard was short squat man with black hair and
moustache. His name was H. He too was casting a spell. Quatre
didn't recognize it but he smelled death and disease issuing
forth.
The fifth wizard was a huge bald man called O. His spell whirled
violently, flashing intermittently with brilliant light.
Quatre made his way over to them. They didn't seem to notice
they had an interloper in their midst. They were all intent of
their spells, and their discussion.
As he listened them argue, Quatre realized they were the wizards
who worked for Emperor Odin Lowe. With so much power
concentrated in one spot, there was no doubt.
Quatre instinctively reached for his magic. If he could catch
them unaware, he thought maybe he could do something to interrupt
their spell casting. But as he touched his magic, he shuddered.
The blond could still feel some remnants of the Wild magic
twining with the High magic within him. He shied away from it,
remembering what had happened.
Then from far away, a voice called his name. It was familiar and
filled with urgency. He knew that voice and there was no force
on earth that could prevent him from answering that call. The
wizards faded away, still arguing, and soon he was standing alone
in the dark again. Then he realized something very important.
I'm dreaming}
Quatre opened his eyes.
Trowa was holding him in his arms. Hope and fear were written
plainly in his emerald eyes.
"Quatre, are you ok?" Trowa asked.
"Trowa? What happened?" Quatre
The look of sheer relief that crossed Trowa's normally impassive
face was astounding and the young mage found himself caught in a
crushing embrace.
"Oh Quatre, you're all right." Trowa whispered, almost sobbing.
Quatre hugged his love back in confusion. He could feel Trowa's
slender body trembling.
"Of course I'm all right." The blond had never seen Trowa this
scared.
"Duo hit you with his power and we thought that maybe you had
been destroyed. I couldn't bear to lose you, Quatre," Trowa
whispered into the blond hair.
"I know, but it didn't happen. Don't worry Trowa. I'm still me."
He looked around at the others, at Duo. The memories of the gorge
were a bit hazy after he had touched Duo's power, but they were
clear enough. Fear knotted the pit of his stomach.
"Trowa, what's happening? I had the strangest dream." He saw the
others exchanging looks. "What?"
Trowa sensed Quatre's confusion and released his grip on the
young mage. He sat back on his heels and shook his head.
"Except for Duo, we all had strange dreams," Heero said.
"What was yours about?" Wufei asked. Actually his dream hadn't
bothered him too much. He had been winning.
Quatre looked at the others who were crouching around him. He
thought about his dream.
"I saw five wizards casting spells. I'm sure one of them was the
spell we encountered in the gorge."
Heero nodded slowly. That fit with his theory.
"Five? Are you sure?" Duo asked. He seemed a bit subdued.
Quatre nodded.
"And here I was worried that I might be bored after the war."
The joke sounded flat even to his own ears.
"How is it you saw them? I think I'm right in saying that the
rest of us merely had nightmares," Wufei questioned.
Quatre thought it over. Then he decided to be honest.
"I think it is because of the magic." He took a deep breath and
continued. "Some of Duo's magic is still tangled with mine.
Wild magic and High magic are incompatible." He paused as Wufei
snorted at the understatement. "So I think that is what enabled
me to get past the spell and see the truth behind it."
Trowa looked concerned, but Quatre smiled reassuringly at him.
"I'm fine, don't worry."
Wufei took the next watch. The rest tried to settle down to get
some more rest
"Hey, Quatre, could you do me a favor? Could you come here, I
need your help with something." Duo asked. He seemed a bit pale.
Trowa looked warningly at the confessor but didn't object to
Quatre going over to talk to Duo.
Duo led them away from the fire for some privacy.
"What's wrong?" Quatre asked.
Duo looked into Quatre's blue eyes, and then dropped his gaze.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"What for?" Quatre was stunned.
"For hurting you," Duo twisted the end of his braid in his good
hand.
"Duo, it was my fault, not yours. I'm the one who lost control,
not you!" Quatre reached out and grabbed Duo's broken wrist.
Duo went absolutely white as fresh pain stabbed up his arm. He
gasped and jerked his hand back, cradling it protectively against
his chest.
"Could you use your magic to heal this?" Duo asked hopefully,
anxious to be rid of the pain.
"What happened?" Quatre was scared that it had happened back in
the gorge, because of him.
Duo smiled a little bitterly. "Let's just say be very careful
about waking Trowa up in the future."
Quatre paled a bit too. He wanted to help Duo, he really did.
But he knew that if he tried to use his High magic, the Wild
magic embedded in it would be tapped too. He was afraid of what
would result. He shook his head.
"I'm sorry Duo. I can't. Do you want me to make a splint for
you?"
Duo's face fell but he immediately recovered and smiled
cheerfully. He shook his head , his braid swishing around his
waist.
"That's O. K., I'll manage. It's not my sword hand luckily.
Thanks anyway."
Ashamed of his cowardice, Quatre turned away and went back to sit
by the fire. He was so caught up in his own misery that he
hadn't noticed Duo's hurt expression. Trowa reached out and held
him in his arms again. He could sense a change in the young mage
but he didn't know what it was. He decided that Quatre just
needed some time to sort things out.
Duo found his pack and awkwardly opened it one-handed. He
fumbled around for a few minutes, cursing under his breath. He
worked his blanket out of the pack and unsheathed one of his
knives. He was trying to figure out how to cut the fabric one
handed when a hand reached down and took the knife away from him.
He looked up straight into Heero's eyes.
"Here, let me help."
Duo watched as Heero efficiently cut some thin strips and gently
wrapped them around the swelling wrist along with a small piece
of wood to form a splint.
"Thanks Heero," he said.
"Get some sleep." Heero said and walked away.
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