Disclaimer: I don't own RE2 or Gundam Wing. Don't sue.
AN/ Warnings: Shonen ai. 3+4/4+3. All other right-wing straight pairings. If explicit usage of drugs or lurid violence and gore bother you, turn back now.
Genre(s): Horror, AU, crossover, torture (Is that a genre?), action, angst.
Setting: Darkfall, PA, in the year A.C. 199.
Legend: /. . ./ indicates italics //. . .// indicates thoughts
"A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions."
-Oliver Wendell Holmes
In the heated dim amber light of a single bare bulb, the chestnut-haired boy steadied the rusty spoon, using his other hand to poise his zippo under it, warming the thin liquid it held. Across the rotting wooden picnic table, a Japanese boy did the same, though the metal lid to a jar functioned as his spoon.
"Hey, Heero," said Duo, carefully extracting the precious solution with a syringe.
Heero sighed. "What is it now, Duo?" he inquired, following the American pilot's procedure.
"Ya ever think we should, y'know, kick it? I mean, with Hilde being eight months pregnant and all. . . And I know that Relena's been riding you about it. I mean, the press would have a Goddamn field day with this if they ever found out that Little Miss Pacifist was associated with a drug addict."
Heero grunted in reply, setting his needle down on the deteriorating table long enough to tie a fiber around his upper arm, securing it rather tightly and then returning to his syringe, using his free hand to tap out the bubbles. "Why are you so damned worried?" he asked as he stuck himself, driving the needle deep into his veins. "I mean, we're careful about this whole thing. No ne know about this cabin but us and the other pilots."
"Y'know, we don't even get high anymore. We just do it to keep from getting sick," Duo remarked, pulling his own syringe out of his wrist, placing the needle on the rotting table along with the other drug paraphernalia and then moving immediately to unstrap the string around his arm and dumping it on the table as well.
Heero sighed again, rubbing the place on his arm where he had pulled the needle out. "Maybe you're right," he said thoughtfully, knowing that he didn't like the situation they were in anymore that Duo did, the guy was going to be a family man in a matter of weeks, and Relena had been dropping really apparent hints that she wouldn't mind having a bundle of joy herself.
"Let's get ridda this," Heero finally said, as Duo grabbed a Ziplock baggie, scooping the contents on the table into it, and with Heero's help he lifted a loose floorboard and placed the bag in the small space underneath, storing it for a later use.
The pair exited the cabin, stepping out into the cool black night, the humidity slapping them both in the face like a sheet of thick wet velvet. The night was clear; the stars shined like tiny diamonds against a raven backdrop. A soft breeze began to blow, and the thick maple-like scent of pine trees filled Heero's lungs as he inhaled deeply. He lingered a moment as Duo lit up a cigarette, taking a rich drag before nodding to Heero, signaling their departure from the Styx and into the town of Darkfall, a minute town in northwestern Pennsylvania, a perfect safeguard for the Gundam pilots.
Heero flicked on the high beams as the rounded a rather tight curve, heading down a sculpted mountainside and bearing into the outskirts of the metropolis, not far enough into the city to be in the thick of the populous, but far enough to be in a place where many cars would be on the road this time of night.
"Not that many people out tonight," Heero though out loud, reducing his speed, lest he be caught off guard by a driving stunt some dumb ass civilian would decide to pull. Duo simply nodded in reply while taking another long drag off his cigarette. "There should be people out tonight," Heero muttered, getting a little edgy.
"Well, what do you want me to say, Heero?" Duo shrugged, tossing his cigarette butt out of the window.
"It's 9:30 on fucking Saturday night, Duo, these streets should be teaming with life. Look. We're in the main stream of the city."
Duo looked out the front window of the car, sitting up from his slouching position. Heero was right. It wasn't just curious it was downright /weird/. There didn't seem to be /anyone/ out on the road, not any cars, or even walking pedestrians for that matter. The city seemed to be completely and utterly /deserted./
"Maybe some restaurant is having an all-you-can-eat barbeque buffet," Duo shrugged, getting an uncanny feeling that even though no one was anywhere to be seen, they were being watched.
"Duo, be serious," Heero breathed, suddenly realizing that he had been holding his breath for quite a long time. If no one showed up soon, he felt like was going to /freak. . ./
"/Heero/, look out!" Duo's shattered cry tore him from his thoughts. His Prussian gaze locked back onto the road ahead of him, and slowly, his mind registered the shadowy figure in the sprawled middle of the street.
"Jesus!"
Heero jerked the wheel roughly to the left, causing Duo the tumble across him with a cry of surprise and pain-
-//idiot didn't wear his seatbelt//-
-Heero shook the thought off violently, knowing he had other things to worry about than a lapful of Duo. "Hold on!" he screamed, slamming the brakes.
One minute, Duo was staring at the woman lying in the middle of the road they were about to hit; the next Heero was screaming something and Duo found himself in a rather embarrassing situation, his nose pressing into Heero's thigh as the violent swerve of the car threw him from his seat.
He pulled himself out of Heero's tight jeans just in time to hear the squeal of brakes and see Heero's white knuckled grip on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched with the rush of adrenaline-
-and then the was thrown back against Heero as the car lurched to a stop on a sidewalk.
"Duo, get the hell off me, you idiot," Heero growled, harshly pushing the American away. Duo blushed absurdly and complied, sliding to his own seat. Heero took a minute to catch his breath before unstrapping himself from his seat, flinging the car door opening and slamming shut, Duo following suit as they left to check on the girl they almost had hit.
It was a woman alright, slick, lank auburn hair shrouding the face as she lay on her stomach, arms in front of herself and thin legs splayed apart, scantily clad in Daisy Dukes and slip-soles. Duo and Heero approached cautiously, the Perfect Soldier with his weapon already out, a nine millimeter Beretta that echoed the deathly still night with an audible /click/ as Heero clicked off the safety, half-pointing it at the body.
"Damn, is she alive?" Duo inquired, his voice nothing more than a high-pitched squeak as he stared at the unmoving figure.
Heero tensed, sensing the tiny sensations in the air, becoming more ill at ease by the second. Something was wrong. Something that the Perfect Soldier couldn't figure out, even as he called upon all of his survival instincts. He held out a hand, halting Duo, and warily advanced towards the girl, swallowing a lump in his throat. . . Christ. He had survived two wars without feeling remorse or fear, but now, somehow, /something/ was wrong. Something.
Kneeling down over the body, Heero tucked his gun in his belt, holding up his wristwatch hand and pressing two fingers to her jugular, her soft skin giving way uneasily underneath his taut fingers.
"Well?" Duo asked hopefully over Heero's shoulder, a cigarette now hanging from his lip. The American had taken up smoking some years back, against his girlfriend's wishes, and still hung tenaciously onto that habit, suddenly needing the fresh nicotine's calming effects.
"Duo. . ." Heero trailed off, swallowing down bile. Jesus, the girl smelled, like rot and piss and vomit. But it couldn't have /all/ come from her, could it? She couldn't have been dead for more than a few hours at the most, but the smell of decay was so all-encompassing that he felt smothered by it, saturated in it.
"Yeah, Heero?" Duo finally replied, his voice shaky.
"Duo, she's dead."
"Jesus fucking Christ, Heero, don't tell me that!" Duo squeaked, furiously flicking his lighter, desperate to light his cigarette. He finally managed, and with a long, shuddery breath he took a drag, seemly calming himself a little. "Are you absolutely sure, Heero? I mean. . . hell I don't know what I mean. . ." Duo took several puffs off his cigarette and sat down on the curb, glancing to where Heero crouched over the woman's body.
"Duo, when you don't have a pulse, you're dead," Heero gruffly replied, choking back his lunch. The smell, Christ, he couldn't stand the Goddamn smell anymore. Turning away from Duo, Heero stumbled over to a parked car, hunching over by the rear wheels and extricating the contents of his stomach. When he was sure he was done, he lurched back near Duo and the dead woman, wiping his mouth off with a sheepish expression on his face.
"I'm, sorry, Duo," Heero ground out, clutching his slowly settling stomach.
"No need, Heero," Duo grinned sympathetically, "Hey, I couldn't even go near the corpse. You were the one who inspected it. Jesus, it smells here, Heero. It didn't before."
"But Duo, we just got here. . .who knows what might've happened. . . or when it did. . ."
"Heero, I think-"
Whatever Duo thought was interrupted by a soft moan, and the sound of shuffling feet. A wet sound.
Heero instinctively grabbed for his Beretta, holding it out in front of himself as he motioned for Duo to get behind him. A shadow slunk into view, followed by another, and another.
"/Uullnngahhh. . ./"
At first Heero couldn't believe his eyes. He didn't want to. A tall barrel-chested man shambled closer to them on unsteady feet, dragging them along as he held his hands out in front of himself, whispering that same unearthly moan, drool dripping down his rotting chin. Christ, his /rotting/ chin?
The man stared at the two pilots through sightless eyes, the orbs white with milky cataracts. Part of his scalp had been torn away, exposing the slick shine of bone beneath and grey matter in parts where the skull had cracked. The two other figures that were close behind the man were in worse shape, the other man missing an arm, and the woman with her tattered shirt, revealing cleavage that appeared to have been eaten away at.
Heero stepped back, training his weapon on the big guy that was closest to them, his hands going clammy and his brow slick with sweat, his dark brown bangs plastered to his forehead despite the October night's chill.
"/Oh, Jesus!/"
It was then Duo cried out in surprise and horror, and Heero realized the on of the creatures must've gotten him.