Numb(er)ing
Duo, Trowa. PG. Drabble.
Question from a friend not in the fandom: “So what is this thing with calling people by numbers?”
2001 | 600 words
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Duo hated the feeling of losing control over the situation.
03 was supposed to be inside the room when he arrived from the left wing, but there was no way he could know if he was there when the door was locked from the inside. He wasn’t sure what to do, knocking could catch 03’s attention, but it could also catch someone else’s. Not that there seemed to be anyone else in whole wing, but he couldn’t risk being caught. Or having Two caught.
Duo hated that feeling with a passion.
He couldn’t see anything past ten feet around him, the corridors too dark for that, so he had to trust all other senses. Nothing happened for a long moment, and Trowa started to wonder whether he was even in the right place. Of course he was. He wouldn’t, couldn’t have made such a trivial mistake. It was only after those long seconds standing perfectly still that Duo finally heard something: a faint, even breathing and a ruffling of clothes, someone passing down the hall.
He hated that feeling more than anything else.
He took a breath and started his way down the corridor, one hand guiding him along the wall while the other reached for his gun as silently as he could manage, his feet barely touching the ground. Silence was the most important part of the staying alive game. He soon reached an open door, where the sounds now came from. He caught his breath and turned around the door, tightening the grip in his gun as his eyes scanned the place and his mind convinced itself that he’d came in unnoticed.
When he felt the cold barrel of a gun pressed against his forehead, he made a mental note to never ever, no matter what, underestimate his enemy in a much unlikely next time.
“Gun,” stated the low voice of the other. He knew that voice.
Controlling his nerves and trying to calculate the amount of free space in the room for a physical attack, he concluded his best option was to do as told. He released the grip and heard the pistol hit the… carpet?
“Who are you,” the voice ordered.
Duo frowned, vaguely recognising the whispering voice. Knowing that didn’t make any difference, as he was still standing in a dark room with a gun pointed to his head by none other than his mission partner.
“It’s 02.”
“I know what you are,” the other said, crounching to take Duo’s gun from the floor. Duo felt the gun slide down his face and neck, stop right over his heart and slide back to his forehead. “I want to know who you are.”
Duo sighed long. “Trowa, what the hell are you doing?”
He heard a ‘click’ and felt the cold circle in his forehead draw away as the coldness of his own gun was pressed against his hand. He felt the cold barrel and the warm hand on his and cleared his throat as he put it back in the holster. Then, the circle was back on his forehead.
“You haven’t answered me.”
He was through with it; this was a huge waste of time they couldn’t afford. Before the other could guess what he’d do, Duo had already taken the gun from him and pinned his arms on his back. He heard the Trowa’s even breathing become erractic, but he was surprised the other didn’t try anything to free himself.
“Stop wasting my time,” Duo whispered, pressing his chest against Trowa’s back and pushing him forward and out of the room, “We gotta get this finished with.”
Filed under Gundam Wing |