Fic for Sera

[askerian]

because she insisted. Violently. *rubs ankle*

Author: Asuka Kureru (adaptation of a roleplay between Asuka Kureru and Sailor Seraphim.)
Beta-reader: none yet
Pairing: 1x2x1
Category: AU (post-apocalyptic)
Warnings: Angst, violence

It was a hot summer day in the destroyed city and a slim, muscled young man with intense gunmetal blue eyes was striding down what had been a street --and looked now more like a canyon-- looking around for anything that he could salvage or eat. But the rats and pigeons there were not stupid enough to get caught outside during the day, proof that they were being hunted intensively, and it was hard to find anything in the rubble that hadn't already been taken apart for pieces. He needed to find things to trade for food if he wanted to eat, but so far no luck.

That town had to be the worst off of all the ones he'd wandered through, he thought as he stepped over a pile of crushed bricks. Or maybe it was the heat of the summer, he added thoughtfully.

After a few minutes of mental debate on the pros and cons, he pushed his hood back. It was too hot and there wasn't anyone around to see his face anyway.

He paused in the middle of the street, looking around, then started walking again. There wasn't anything for him there and most of the building, while still somewhat standing up, looked like a strong gust of wind would be enough to knock them over. And he was strong, but not to the point where he could have a building fall on his head and walk away unscathed.

Worsened by the heat, a headache was slowly building between his eyes, beating on the rhythm of his footsteps, and he sighed, annoyed. It was happening rather often to him, but he'd noticed with a flutter of hope that the devastating migraines were getting rarer and weaker over time. For now he was still going into withdrawal every now and then, but maybe someday he'd be fully clean.

Forget salvaging, he would need to find shelter soon. The headache was worsening just as fast as usual, and he knew that it wouldn't be long before he was totally incapacitated. Soon, he wouldn't even be able to walk. Already it resonated harder inside his skull, distracting him from the outside world. He started slowing down to check the buildings he walked past.

+

Meanwhile, another young man, this one clothed in threadbare and dirty jeans and a ratty old t-shirt, was searching a building. His sharp eyes darted around, looking for anything that could be useful, either to eat or barter. The place was dangerous, the building extremely unstable, and he hoped that it would mean that no one had dared to loot it yet.

He saw a glitter of what looked like metal or machinery, and after looking around warily to make sure that the roof wasn't going to cave in, quickly moved to it. 'Maybe some nice engine parts? Generator? It would be nice if it was a heater or cooling machine...' he thought wistfully. Duo stuffed his braid down his T-shirt to keep it out of the way and after pushing the rubble away carefully, quickly started to dismantle the machinery, eager to get past the rusty exterior to the potentially usable parts.

His ears picked out the sound of footsteps and he quickly grabbed his tools and what he had salvaged, and hid himself behind a fallen wall, heart thumping wildly. Even if it was daylight, and the Vultures rarely got moving during the hottest part of the day, it was dangerous to be caught alone.

But there was only one set of footsteps... He peeked out from behind the wall. If it was someone weak, maybe Duo could rob them without risk... Unless it was a kid. He didn't rob kids. He took them in instead. Some were ungrateful little bastards, but most were only too happy. He was already stretching himself thin caring for the fifteen brats he already had, but he was still unable to refuse help to a child in need.

He saw a figure -- male -- walking by slowly. Not a kid then. Duo felt vaguely relieved that this was an opportunity to get some food, not spend more of it. The man was dragging his feet slightly, his shoulders a little slumped. Duo noted that the hooded shirt, while faded and rumpled, was still in a fairly good state. If he had good clothes, maybe he was strong enough to have other good stuff. But it also meant stealing from him would be more dangerous.

The man passed by his building without noticing his presence, head hanging. Was he sick? Going to die maybe? It was easier to rob the dead... Duo shook his head as a pang of guilt reminded him of the morals he had been raised with, beating it down. The dead didn't need anything. And Duo wanted to survive. Maybe it was horrible and cowardly that he would attack those weaker than him and steal from the deceased, but it was that or die too, and there was no way he'd abandon so easily.

+

The heat was just too much. Heero pulled his shirt off and tied it around his hips, careful not to let it fall from his shaking hands. He knew that people could see the ID tattoo on his upper right arm that way -- as if being able to see his face wasn't enough-- but right now he didn't give a damn. The sun was making his headache worse and if he didn't cool off a little, he'd keel over in the middle of the street.

Heero pulled his backpack higher on his sweaty shoulders. His battered sweat pants were sliding low on his hips, uncovering the more detailed barcode over his left hip, and he pulled them up tiredly. He needed a belt, he'd lost some weight.

He massaged his temples slowly. The headache was still steadily worsening. Shelter. Now.

+

Duo trailed after the stranger, watching him warily. 'Why the hell did he just take off his clothes?' he thought, bewildered. 'It's easier to steal the shirt that way!'

The man... boy? seemed familiar to Duo for some reason, but he knew that he hadn't seen him around recently and he didn't look like a gang member. At least he didn't bear any identifying marks like the red bandana of the Vultures, the local gang, or if he did bear a mark, it was none that Duo could recognize.

... Wait... Was that a tattoo? What was-- Oh fuck. Barcode.

The only people who got barcodes as tattoo were military, and Duo narrowed his eyes hatefully. 'Fucking soldiers,' he seethed as he followed stealthily. It was their damn fault that they all had to live in that broken world. This guy looked like he was about to drop, and he smirked viciously. He would be able to kill him easier. Usually Duo avoided killing when it wasn't necessary, but in his case he'd make an exception. He didn't want one of these bastards around his kids.

He saw his target step over some rubble and stumble into an old building, and peered around a corner, still watching and listening. He remembered the layout of the building faintly, and from the noise, the guy was going toward a flight of stairs that didn't lead anywhere anymore. Then the steps stopped and there was a rustle of clothes against a wall, as if his target was letting himself slide down to sit heavily on the ground. There were a few more noises of rumpled cloth, then nothing.

Duo waited a few minutes longer then glanced around the corner, wondering if he'd lost consciousness yet. Too busy trying to peer through the darkness to see in the corner under the stairs, he didn't notice when his foot landed on a loose slab. It clanged under his shoe and when he looked up, he was facing the muzzle of a gun.

"I suggest you leave," uttered a cold voice.

Duo froze. Shit... Well done!! If he got shot, who would feed the kids now?

The click of a gun being cocked made his eyes widen. "Hey, hey, I was just walkin' by, buddy! No need to go shootin' me up!" he exclaimed, raising his hands, hoping to distract the guy enough to run away.

"Walk the other way," the toneless voice ordered. It didn't sound angry, though, and Duo relaxed a bit.

The military guy's hand was shaking, just barely, and Duo could see how pale and sweaty his skin looked. He considered the form curled up in the shadows for a few seconds before he asked bluntly: "Are you gonna die?"

"No," the man --teenager? adult? it didn't matter much, people grew up fast nowadays-- answered impersonally, as if he didn't find the question especially weird. "Sorry for disappointing you. Now leave."

"... Damn," Duo groused. "Are you sure? Because if you're gonna keel over, it would be better for me to hang around, ya know?"

"I'm not going to die. I get headaches all the time."

Duo waved a finger casually, pretending that he wasn't ready to leap into action any second. "But that might be a head wound! Those are tricky! You could die any second."

"It's not a head wound."

"Well, how do YOU know?" the young man asked, crossing his arms on his chest. Headache, huh? That was probably messing with his concentration. With luck he wouldn't be able to aim properly.

"I didn't hit my head. It's withdrawal. And I haven't died yet of it, so it is doubtful that I will now." The voice now held a hint of weariness. Duo calculated that his chances of getting shot had dropped marginally.

"You a junkie?" he asked slowly. "I know a guy who can get ya anythin' ya need..."

"I'm not a junkie," the man answered, a faintly offended note in his voice.

Duo raised an eyebrow. "Riiiiiiiight. Just need a hit every now and again, huh? I gotcha."

"Leave," replied the voice in the darkness. Now it was sounding angry, but the kind of anger coming from knowing that you were powerless. "Or I will get up and shoot you."

The scavenger snorted disdainfully, not very impressed anymore. "Yeah right, buddy. You don't look like ya can pull the trigger, let alone stand. You're sweatin' like a pig."

The man glared -- Duo could see his eyes glittering in the darkness now-- and pushed himself up slowly. He raised the gun until he targeted his chest, his hand shaking slightly. Duo tensed, ready to leap for cover, and then...

The man's upper body wasn't in the shadows anymore.

Duo blinked, stared, gaped. "... y-you... you look... familiar... like..."

Gunmetal blue eyes, impossibly harmonious mix between Asian and Caucasian traits, messy brown hair --though not in a crew cut anymore... He still remembered that face from the war.

"SHIT!" he yelped and backed away hurriedly, his eyes wide. That was a --

The Soldier's legs wobbled under him and he slid down against the wall, unable to stay upright any longer. His arm shook, the weight of the gun almost too much to bear. Duo sneered at him, his initial fear replaced by anger and disgust. "Looks like the 'Perfect Soldier' is about to bite the dust. Good riddance to ya, I hope ya rot in hell!"

The clone managed a snort. "Not... going to die yet," he growled, panting.

"Too damn bad," hissed the longhaired scavenger hatefully. "And here I thought I'd get to see one of you punks die."

The Soldier raised his gun again, aiming in Duo's general direction. He cautiously stepped back, aware that even though the monster had problems aiming right, it would only take a tightening of his finger to hit him. He didn't fancy getting shot, mortally or not.

"If I didn't like livin' so much, I'd kill ya myself," the scavenger snarled, unable to keep a hold of his rage.

"Leave," the Soldier growled back. "I don't want to die yet. If you attack me, I will kill you."

"Shoulda known..." Duo answered, disgust apparent in his voice. "Your last breath an' all ya can do is kill. You "don't want"? That's rich. Engineered freaks like you don't got nothin' but the needs to kill."

The Soldier growled again.

"Oh, so the little dog can growl like a good bitch. A bloodthirsty monster waitin' to kill."

He panted. "Leave! Don't... want to die-- won't die. Want to --to live. Lemme alone."

"You WANT to live? Why? So you can kill more innocent people? Get a clue and get outta this place! Ain't nothing here that ain't already dead or close to it!"

Duo watched the Soldier coldly, not allowing himself any empathy toward its visible suffering. This was one of those Perfect Soldier clones that the warring governments had used as troops, and they'd never had any qualms killing innocent bystanders. People still talked of the massacres they had committed in cold blood. They were ruthless and emotionless and their capabilities were frankly inhuman. None of them deserved sympathy.

+

His senses were blanketed by a haze of red-hot pain. Heero's hand fell to the floor, but even through the torture he was enduring, he didn't let go of the gun. He would die without the gun. He didn't want to die.

A new wave of agony invaded him and he convulsed, shaking uncontrollably.

"...h-hurts..."

"Hurts?" the man hissed back at him, as if something Heero had said had offended him. "You're not allowed to say it hurts! You're a tool. A weapon! THINGS don't get hurt!"

"GO AWAY!! Go away! Leave me alone. I hurt. It hurts. I'm not a thing," Heero gasped back, rocking himself as if trying to calm the pain down. Somewhere, a small part of him recognized the movement as soothing. He needed soothing. He needed peace and quiet, but he wouldn't get it so long as the man was there. But it hurt too much...

+

Duo blinked as the man held himself and started to rock. It reminded him too much of a kid in pain. But this wasn't a kid... It was just a clone. A killer. A cold-blooded Soldier.

"It hurts? Good! You DESERVE it for all the pain and suffering you've caused to people!" he shouted at it, hands clenched into fists. All those lives lost to the likes of it. Those passionless atrocities.

The clone winced as the loud voice echoed in his head, and aimed at the scavenger slowly, his arm shaking so bad that he nearly dropped the gun a few times. "Leave," he ordered, his voice failing to sound stern.

Duo was too furious to listen. "Yeah, that's how ya wanna do it, monster? One last body on your count, huh? Great way to go, take someone down with ya, huh? They program that shit in your brain or do ya like the look of blood?"

The Soldier hissed. "Leave! don't make me shoot you. Don't make me."

"Make you? Don't blame this on me, buddy. You're the murderer with his finger on the trigger. You say it hurts? So what? Bein' human is about the pain. Why don't you put the bullet through your head instead. At least it won't be wasted."

+

There was blood flowing from Heero's nose, but it was so inconsequential that he didn't notice. He clung to consciousness with every shred of will he possessed, highly aware that if he let go of the gun, if he closed his eyes, he would never wake up. The scavenger hated him too much.

+

Duo blinked when he saw the blood.

"... red..." He stared, a bit shocked. "Why... Why are you bleeding red?" It was strange. Soldiers weren't supposed to bleed. They weren't supposed to be in pain. They were just tools... weapons... They didn't feel. They didn't hurt!

The Soldier blinked, then finally closed its eyes. It dropped the gun, unable to keep its hold any longer, and its head rolled back on its shoulders. It was panting and shaking hard, and looked like it was desperately trying not to pass out. Duo could tell that it was a lost battle.

Duo stared as it seemed to wilt right before his eyes, blinking when he heard a moan of pain pass its lips, but he stayed absolutely still, just in case. He had heard stories of Soldiers who snapped and killed anyone nearby when they overloaded, even their own allies.

The clone's body slid down against the wall until it was on his side and it curled up, knees almost to its chest.

Duo sat down on his haunches and watched through jaded eyes. Death was very familiar to him. He peered at the clone, just in time to see it blink at him fuzzily.

"Say hi to the devil for me," he hissed coldly.

"Not... dying yet..." the Soldier breathed, and went still.

Duo watched for a moment longer before he stepped closer. He moved carefully, bringing out his knife just in case. But the Soldier was still unmoving, eyes closed, his breathing shallow, his nose still bleeding sluggishly.

He muttered, "... wonder if he's out enough for me to frisk him?" and reached out. The Soldier's pack was still on its back, between its back and the wall. He moved even closer, his eyes on its face, and tried to ease the pack off it. The Soldier twitched but didn't wake up, and he freed the backpack skillfully, hardly moving the body. He stepped back out of reach and rifled through the pack a bit, stopping when he caught sight of a dried yellow flower carefully wrapped.

"What a weird thing for a Soldier to have," he muttered, his eyes darting back to the body slumped against the wall. He put the flower to the side carefully and continued to look through the pack. The clothes were a welcomed surprise, as well as the gun clips... those would bring in some money, or be useful if Duo took the gun, too. He frowned at the water bottle, but put it aside too. Water was rare, but not that rare.

"What the...?"

There was a long feather in an inner pocket, wrapped up like the flower.

"Shit, I hope this isn't a trophy from some poor bird it killed," he muttered, a little confused as to why it would keep that sort of stuff. He put it away it with the flower.

When he was finished, he sighed and packed everything back neatly, then scanned the Soldier's body critically. It was still breathing shallowly, but the bleeding had stopped.

"He might be carryin' somethin' on him..." the scavenger muttered to himself, pushing himself to check.

He tugged off Heero's shirt to put it with the pack. The Soldier's body was thinner than he'd expected-- muscled, but very wiry, and scarred. Its head rolled back when it slipped out of the shirt, and it shivered. Duo frowned a bit. While it was necessary, he had never liked robbing the dead, and robbing a sick person seemed worse...

"No, idiot!" he berated himself, shaking his head angrily. "He's no person! He's a fuckin' Soldier an' he deserves anythin' that's comin' to him."

The clone winced at the loud voice, and whimpered quietly, but didn't wake up. Duo stared, unsure that he really had heard the Soldier make that sound.

"Dammit..." he sighed, pushing his bangs out of his face tiredly. "Why the hell am I feelin' guilty? Murderers like him deserve to die..."

The Soldier curled up tighter, still making soft sounds of pain and fear, and Duo frowned bitterly.

"... Fuck."

His conscience would never let him steal everything... He took the clone's shirt and lay it over him like a blanket, looking away, angry at himself, when he saw the killer relax.

Duo looked out at the sun rays, checking the time. "Well... I bet I can salvage those engine parts now. You stay here, okay?" he added unnecessarily, looking at the shivering killer. Of course the clone didn't answer.

Duo picked up the clothes, the gun and the bullets, then trotted off to finish salvaging what he had been working on, intending to come back later to see what would happen.



-- Night --

Heero stirred and woke up slowly, still in that weird daze he was in when he came down from the pain. Suddenly, his senses warned him that someone was close by and he froze. Analyzing the situation, he concluded that since he had moved, the other was probably aware that he was awake, and turned his head slowly, his hand feeling the place where his gun should have been.

His eyes glittering in the firelight, the scavenger from earlier pointed the gun at the Soldier. He was smiling. Somehow that failed to be reassuring. "Awake, Sleeping Beauty?"

Heero glared at him, unmoving.

"I guess that's a yes."

The Soldier sat up very slowly, eyes on the man to make sure that he wasn't going to shoot. He was still dizzy but it didn't really hurt anymore, and he was already making calculations on how to neutralize the threat and take back his gun.

"If you're thirsty, your water is right there," the scavenger continued talking, appearing unconcerned. Heero could see the bottle from the corner of his eyes, but he refused to look away from the guy.

"Now, are ya gonna try to rip my head off an' make me shoot ya, or can I turn this rat before it burns?" the scavenger asked casually, pointing at the carcass cooking over the fire.

Heero's eyes narrowed. "The gun is mine. Give it back."

"Nope, sorry, buddy, That's not the law out here. I took it from ya, so it's mine now."

The scavenger spared an amused smirk for the Soldier's angry glower. "You're lucky I didn't strip ya naked and leave ya to the rats. They can strip a man in minutes. Dead OR alive."

Heero frowned and decided to come back to that discussion later. "Where is my pack?" he asked, frowning with contrariety.

"Don't ya mean MY pack?" the longhaired man asked, smirking, reminding him who had the upper hand at the moment.

"I mean MY pack. I will take it back from you if you don't give it."

Duo snorted. "Like ya got anythin' of value in it."

"Then you don't need to keep it. Give it back."

"... Though," the man mused, "the clothes an' ammo was sweet."

Heero hissed softly.

The man nodded to the corner. "The pack's there. Not the clothes or ammo though," he added with a grin. "Those're gone."

Heero stared at him for a minute, then answered in a very cold voice. "I don't want to die. Without the gun and ammo, I will get killed. Therefore, either you give those back or I will kill you and then take them anyway."

The scavenger snorted, visibly not very impressed. "Ya can kill me, but ya won't get the clothes or ammo back. I told ya, they're gone."

"Then I will hunt down the person who took them and kill them too."

The scavenger's expression shifted from mocking to coldly threatening. "Say that again and I'll put a bullet through your head right now," he hissed, cocking the gun.

Heero glared back.

"Guess I shouldn't expect nothin' from a filthy Soldier like ya."

"Give me my gun now and I'll let you live."

"Shut the hell up and I won't kill ya now."

Heero tensed, ready to roll on the side and attack, but the man was handling the gun with an ease that proved that he could sight Heero easily and shoot before he moved.

"I don't wanna kill ya, an' I don't wanna die, but ya ain't getting your clothes back, got it?"

Heero growled, aggravated. "They're mine!"

The young man's eyes went cold, deadly. "Well they belong to Milly and his sister Lena now. They're nine and five year old and to get your clothes, you'll have to kill 'em and to kill 'em ya gotta kill me first!"

Heero blinked, caught by surprise. "... children?"

"Yeah," spat the scavenger, "even in this hellhole, nine an' five are still kids."

The clone frowned, annoyed. Children were defenseless. Not a threat. There was no way to justify killing them. "... Fine," he conceded. "The ammo didn't go to them, I bet."

"No, it didn't," the scavenger replied, narrowing his eyes as he watched him warily.

"Then I want it back."

"Why? So you can hunt down my kids? No way, buddy."

"I have no intent to harm your kids. I want what's mine back."

"Apparently ya haven't been listenin'. It's MY stuff now. You're lucky I let ya keep the clothes on your back and that pack. The water and that other weird stuff, too."

Heero blinked. What was he referring to? "Weird stuff?" he repeated, puzzled.

"Yeah, that flower an' the feather. Sure don't see stuff like that around here," he commented as he turned the rat with one hand, still keeping the gun trained on Heero.

"Where did you put them?" Heero asked, startled.

"In your pack. I didn't mess 'em up neither. Hey, I wanted to know... ya didn't kill that bird, did ya? For the feather?"

Heero blinked. "No."

+

"Oh, well that's good. 'Cuz, ya know, killin' people is bad, but killin' a bird for just a feather sorta sucks more."

The clone gave a little shrug. "A cat killed it. I guess its wing wasn't sturdy enough to fly right just yet."

Duo gaped, aghast. "So you took the feather off a bird's CORPSE?"

The clone tilted his head on the side, in a way that Duo couldn't help but qualify as childish. "No. It lost it on my shirt."

Duo stared, confused. "How the hell would a bird lose a feather on your shirt? Ya didn't feed it to the cat, did ya?"

"It stayed on my shoulder. It couldn't fly."

"Why the hell would a bird be on your shoulder?"

The short-haired man frowned, but it was more mildly annoyed than angry. "I couldn't put it in my pack. It could not breathe."

"No, I mean what the hell is a Soldier doin' with a bird? Don't it get in the way of your daily torture and killin'?"

The clone stared at him, apparently at a loss. "...The war is finished," he answered finally. "I don't have to kill anymore."

"Yeah, nice to say, but this.." he waved the gun, "says otherwise."

The clone's eyes narrowed. "This is for protection. I don't want to kill, but I want to die even less."

Duo snorted. "Like programmed freaks like you ever really want anything," he commented. The clone glared but didn't answer. "I thought you Soldiers were all supposed to be destroyed or some shit. Nice to know the government is keepin' ya murderers around. No wonder the place is a hellhole."

"There is no government anymore."

Duo snorted. "No government? Well, doesn't that just beat all? A whole fuckin' war an' we don't even got jailers no more."

The Soldier tilted his head on the side, a gesture that Duo was starting to recognize as indicating puzzlement. "Didn't people know?"

"Know what?" the longhaired boy replied, frowning. "Ya see televisions or newspapers around here, hot shot? We don't know shit nothin'. The whole world could be nuked an' we still wouldn't care."

The clone's face was faintly scrunched up in total incomprehension, as if Duo was speaking a foreign language.

"So why don't ya tell me, buddy? What's the world like nowadays?" Duo asked, concealing his interest.

"Everywhere is the same," the Soldier replied as he looked around at the destroyed buildings. "In the country, it doesn't show as much, but there isn't a lot of forests left either. There were fires."

"So, who won? Or did everybody lose?"

The clone blinked slowly. "I don't know."

Duo gave him a disbelieving look. "That's a lie. You're a fuckin' Soldier! Ya should know if yer side won or not!"

"I was back at base for retraining when the last battle happened," the clone informed him tonelessly. "I wasn't talked to."

Duo kicked a stone, disgruntled. He would have liked to kick the Soldier better, but he fancied having two legs. "Yeah. Whatever. It don't really matter none anyway. We're still livin' like this. I hope ya like your handiwork."

The other man scowled, as if berating him for being naive. "Soldiers were not weapons of mass destruction. We did not destroy whole countries. This is not my handiwork."

"Fuck you! It was YOUR kind they sent into the cities!"

The Soldier eyed the gun warily, but his voice was still calm when he replied, "Probably."

"Ya wanna tell me you fuckin' Soldiers didn't kill us all? Ya wanna tell that to the kids I got who wake up screamin', afraid you'll come back an' finish 'em off? You're fuckin' MURDERERS! There ain't no one I know that don't remember seein' Soldiers rip up and burn down their homes, killin' anythin' that moved! We weren't even MILITARY! We were people, goddammit! We were just tryin' to get by an' ya killed us as easy as swattin' flies!"

And that monster was still staring at him with that blank, uncaring look, as if he didn't give a shit about what he and his murderous kind had done... He cocked the gun again, aiming straight between Heero's eyes. His own eyes were filled with angry tears, but he could still see well enough to put down that bastard.

"Standard procedure of enemy troops demoralization," the Soldier replied coldly, but then, as if hearing himself, he blinked and shook his head, grimacing faintly. "... I ... regret. I think."

Duo didn't notice the apology. "Demoralization?!" he snarled and fired off a shot, the bullet whizzing by Heero's ear. "I got your fuckin' 'demoralization' right here!" He cocked the gun again, aiming at the soldier's chest. "An' don't ya say nothin' about REGRET. Soldiers like you don't regret or feel! You just kill!"

The Soldier regarded him for a few seconds, thoughtful. "I don't think I'm supposed to feel regret, but I'm not sure what else it can be. I can't recognize a lot of feelings yet."

"That's 'cuz you don't got none. I ain't gonna fall for any trick like that, so don't even try!"

"I don't need tricks," the other replied with a frown.

"Oh yeah? I know enough about the beginning of the war, how your kind were sent into homes, pretendin' to be wounded innocents. Then you'd take everyone out. Lotsa pacifists and leaders died that way. That sounds like a trick to me!"

"That was the 03 model. They're infiltrators. I'm a 01."

"I don't care. They just upgraded ya. Which means you're better at killin'."

The Soldier dared to nod in agreement. "Not at lying though. I suppose I could, but I don't see the point."

"Whatever. All I know is I'd be doin' everyone a favor if I put a bullet through your brain right now."

The clone arched an eyebrow. "You would only waste a bullet. It wouldn't make anyone's life better."

"Waste a bullet? How would that happen? I know I'd feel a helluva lot better."

"You feel better when you kill people? I don't feel good when I kill. I wonder who's the worse one."

Duo snarled. "That's not what I meant!"

"What did you mean then?" the Soldier asked.

"I don't like to kill. Anyone who does is a sicko. But I'd kill you just to get a menace out of the way. At least dead, you can't hurt no one no more."

"I am not hurting anyone now," he replied with a frown.

Duo snorted. "You think that matters? You've killed before, you'll do it again. Anyway, you were damn near dying an' you were still tryin' to put a bullet through me."

"If I had wanted to shoot you I would have done it. I wanted you to leave and you didn't. I asked you several times."

"There ya go, no remorse. You were willing to kill me just for standing around."

"Then why didn't I? I could have killed you at least a dozen times, even with the headache. I didn't."

"I dunno why ya didn't but I don't care. You're too dangerous to have in this area."

"I wasn't going to stay," the Soldier informed him neutrally.

"Ya shouldn't be here in the first place. All you Soldiers were supposed to be destroyed or some shit like that."

"We weren't destroyed. It was just withdrawal. When the government fell, the doctors left. They stopped giving us the shots."

Duo gave the Soldier an incredulous look. "Shit, you were all junkies?!"

The short-haired man blinked, as if confused by the words Duo had used. "Junkie... addicted to drugs? Yes."

Duo whistled and shook his head in disgust. "Well, God bless the fuckin' government, they're a buncha sick bastards..."

"There was... mood suppressant, I think. A few things to prevent some hormones from acting. I could remember the components if I try, but I don't know if you have a formation in medicine and if you don't, it wouldn't be useful."

"Well, I suppose that's one way to keep the bitches in line."

"Bitches?" the Soldier asked, looking faintly confused once again.

"Yeah, you," Duo shot back. "Trained attack dogs, the lot of ya."

The look of confusion on his face only increased. "I'm not a dog and I'm not female."

"I see that they didn't teach ya nothin' outside of books neither."