[It's an unusual occurrence, someone getting the better of one of the two of them, but it's not unheard of. Wufei would never cut and run on a job, not like that. It can only be foul play. Trowa knows that as soon as he discovers the man missing.
It takes some stolen security footage, tracing a burner phone signal, no small amount of bribe money, and the better part of a day to track down where he's been taken to. Even then, it feels an awful lot like someone wanted him to be found. It doesn't sit right with him, doesn't feel like he came to the conclusion purely through his own resources. Just enough things went right for it to feel like he's being led to the motel one of Wufei's abductors was last seen at.
It's exactly the sort of place they tend to do their own business. Hell, they may have used this exact location before. Trowa picks the lock easily enough, weapon drawn and on high alert as he enters, but there's no one in the small, dingy room. The only other door is the bathroom, completely open, for all appearances also empty.
But the shower curtain is closed.
He strides over to it, tears it open, and sure enough, there's Wufei, lying in a tub of ice. Well, fuck.
This isn't about black market prices. This is a message.
He checks for a pulse and runs a hand over his torso to check for injuries. There are very neat stitches on one side; it's a clean job. Now he's convinced that whoever had ordered this had practically led him here, to finding him. They didn't want him dead. They wanted him to live knowing they'd done this to him. He pulled the smaller man up and out of the tub with ease; the cold was likely doing more harm than good at this point.]
[ It's a quick grab, when they get him. It takes three men to drag him into a van while he's on a job alone. Even as he struggles he knows it's too late but he manages to smash his head back against the face of one of his assailants hard enough to break their nose and it satisfies him on some level to hear the muddied cursing. It's not enough to get him free though and he expects... well, he expects a lot of things. Imprisonment, torture, demands. All he gets is a cloth pressed over his mouth and nose and oh, he thinks as things get hazy and start to slip out of reality, oh fuck.
He comes to too soon, laying on plastic with men hovering over him, and the only things keeping him from kicking up a larger ruckus are the fact that they'd had the good sense to lash him down just in case and that he's still in a daze. They remedy that soon enough though and he's out for good, last attempt at freedom falling flat.
It's not like Wufei wakes up to check the time - he has no idea how much time passes while he's in this grubby hellhole, doesn't register how long it takes them to slice him open and take him apart, can't fathom how long they have him out for in cold storage. He only comes back to Earth when he's being moved so long afterward and even then his grasp on reality is tenuous, immediate reaction being to jerk roughly in Trowa's arms and try to get loose, swearing and shuddering. His skin is cold and clammy and he's shaking - he's still stuck in stasis, lost in a moment earlier in the timeline where this was necessary.
The pain blooms as soon as the very first echoes of shock wear off and he grits his teeth, wheeling his head around to stare at
well
Trowa.
His eyes focus slowly on the lines of his face, on his expression, and finally, finally stills.
[Honestly, that Wufei's well enough to put up a fight the moment he's conscious is a good sign. Trowa had been braced for it, and he lets him pull away, but keeps him from falling back into the tub with steadying hands.]
I've got you. We need to get you out of here.
[He speaks lowly, for Wufei's benefit more than anything. As expected, the hotel towels are thin, small, and shitty, but they're all that's in reach, so he wraps them around Wufei as best he can, toweling off his hair and neck.
As soon as Wufei is lucid enough to recognize him, Trowa lifts him up into his arms again, unceremonious.]
Can you speak?
[Already he's running through a mental checklist- first priority is getting him warm and dry, the last thing he needs is hypothermia. He can grab the blanket on the bed and turn the heat up in the car. It's late spring and fairly warm out, but obviously running the AC is a no-go. There's a friendly clinic about a twenty minute drive from here-- they'll be able to do a blood transfusion, and likely anything else immediately needed.
[ He does stumble, once, and a small part of his brain is suddenly glad for the hands on him keeping him upright. Now that he's focused and aware everything is tumbling down on him at once. There's a pang of self-directed anger over being weak both in getting caught and in needing help now and at first he shakes his head like he's going to try and protest verbally but then Trowa is trying to dry him off and a switch clicks in his brain that reminds him that Trowa is his partner, Trowa is only helping him, and Trowa is the one of them in the better mental state to figure out what to do.
He stands still while this happens, one hand on the back of the toilet to support himself, and at the question he just stares blankly a moment like he's trying to process it. ]
Yes.
[ It's rasped out at length and he shifts, moving to clutch at Trowa's shoulder instead, a more even ground to keep himself level. ]
How long?
[ --has he been gone. he knows they need to get a move on but he needs to know. for another moment he's distracted, gaze dropping to the bathoom counter where all of his clothes are neatly folded like some kind of sick maid service did it for him while he was out.
On top of the pile sits a single rose. Mocking him. ]
Help me get dressed.
[ Firmer, suddenly, like that matters. He's still staring at the splash of red against the black of his clothes. ]
[Trowa hasn't slept, but that goes without saying. In grabbing for the towels, he'd noticed the pile of folded clothes, as well as the rose resting on top of them. They both were familiar with Khushrenada's calling card.
Silently, Trowa plucked a wet rose petal off of Wufei's shoulder. They'd been in the bath as well. It would almost be funny if it weren't so fucked up.
He considers the clothes again, at the demand. They are dry, and Wufei will be far easier to handle with that little bit of retained dignity.]
Once you're dried off. Wearing wet clothes won't help.
[Unfortunately they're quickly running out of shitty hotel towels.]
[ things had gone well for wufei and trowa until they hadn't. playing at being newlyweds became easier as time passed, from putting on a show of affection in public to a more "private" show of loud lovemaking their first night as guests that was entirely them going through their work while making appropriate-sounding noises so no one would come by to bother them.
the second day goes smoothly enough but it takes longer to get things sorted out than they would like: they're invited to spend another night as guests to iron things out the next morning and wufei accepts for the both of them. they're about to settle in for another night of work when things go sideways. they're talking in hushed tones in their room when something unsettles wufei and the prickle at his neck makes him stand and go to the door, opening it.
the man in the hall at their door with listening equipment practically falls into the room and wufei looks left, looks right, and drags him into the room before shutting the door. a rat, he says, perturbed, and covers his mouth before he can call for help.
it's a simple answer to kill him, but they'll have to cover it up afterward and destroy the equipment as well. straddling the man's chest to hold him down, he holds out his free hand toward trowa and curves his fingers inward in a 'gimme' gesture that the other man will understand means he wants the concealed short blade in their supplies. ]
[Trowa has long learned to listen to instinct, so when Wufei abruptly stands and goes over to the door, he's prepared for anything. Which is good, because his partner is soon dragging in someone stupid and unfortunate enough to try and listen in on them.
He grabs the knife Wufei is gesturing for, but pauses before handing it over and shaking his head.] Not yet.
[Trowa looms over the man, all traces of the gently puzzled French model completely wiped from his being.] Either way, you're going to die. We can make it quick and painless, or we can make it very slow and agonizing, so I will offer you a choice. Who ordered you to listen in on us? Don't lie. I'll know. [After all, good liars can always spot worse ones, and the chances of this fool being a better liar than Trowa is slim to none.] If you try and scream, I'll stop you before you get the chance. Am I understood?
[Underneath Wufei's hand, the man nods. Trowa presses the knife to his Adam's apple, then addresses Wufei without taking his eyes off their captive.] Let him speak.
[As soon as Wufei's hand is lifted, he does. It's not a scream, but it's not the result Trowa wanted either.] "I'm not telling you shit." [He spits in Trowa's face, but his only reaction is to press the knife down harder.]
[ wufei wants to get it over with but he knows that trowa is right. they need to know if they've been compromised or if this man is acting alone. he keeps his grip firm until trowa confirms they'll be obeyed; then he lifts his hand while keeping his knees cinched in to keep the man's arms pinned to his sides.
he watches what transpires quietly, impassively, with his glasses sliding down his nose slightly. when the man spits in trowa's face wufei says nothing, but he shifts slightly, hand alighting at trowa's wrist briefly before he moves to plant his boot on the floor, holding the man's arm down in place so that he has access to it. ]
Cover his mouth again.
[ as soon as trowa does, wufei uses all the leverage he has with his positioning to stomp his boot heel on the man's fingers. the crunch is sickening and the muffled sound the man makes is more like a wounded animal than a person. wufei stills, grinding his heel down, then shifts to rest on his knees again, very close as he leans forward. ] It'd suit you far better to listen to what we say.
[ as he's currently trying to force trowa's hand off of his face, it's doubtful he's doing so. ]
[Trowa covers his mouth with the hand not holding the knife to his neck, expressionless at the crunch of fine bones behind him. As the man writhes in agony, the knife drags a thin red line over his neck.
He really doesn't look very cooperative, does he? In a quick series of movements, Trowa drops the knife within Wufei's reach and forces the man's jaw to stay open with his now freed hand, grabbing onto his tongue and yanking it out of his mouth more than enough to be painful.] If you're not going to talk, I see no reason for you to keep this.
[All he can make is choked off spluttering noises, but they don't have the note of begging compliance Trowa is looking for.] Knife. [His hands are occupied. As far as Trowa is concerned, this is his last chance. If being moments away from watching his own tongue be cut out of his mouth doesn't get him to talk, nothing they can do here and now will.]
[ it's been a couple of days since trowa found wufei in a bathtub full of ice and rose petals and he's been nothing but a pain in the ass the entire time. he's in pain but ignoring it, desperate to get to work and do something to keep himself busy so he doesn't have to think of anything. quatre has finally backed off after wufei's last outburst telling him to leave: his bleeding heart sympathy just made wufei feel worse.
he knows he's being watched so that he doesn't do anything stupid, but he's taking his antibiotics and eating and that's enough, right? he has iron supplements too, to stave off possible anemia, but even with that and the transfusion he's still a little too weak to be of any use. he's supposed to rest for two whole weeks and he's already climbing the walls in frustration.
he feels hunted, seen, and useless. nothing had been left behind in him, evidenced by the doctor's careful examination, but the flayed-open feeling hasn't gone away. he wonders if it ever will. he's trying to compartmentalize but it's difficult without anything to occupy him and he stalks his apartment like a caged animal, exerting too much energy on pacing when he should be in bed or at the very least on the couch.
when he does settle it's brief, but right now he's managed to cool his heels enough to sit and read one of the books he keeps around. it's something to get lost in, something to use to take up his attention so that he doesn't go stir crazy. it's better than he was the last time someone checked up on him, when he was checking out the windows every five minutes, sure he's being watched by more than his comrades.
at least the pain lessens when he's still and quiet. ]
[Wufei is a pain in the ass at the best of times, even more so when he's injured. This isn't a surprise, and it's something Trowa's prepared to deal with. He's been trying to find something work-related Wufei could do while resting that wouldn't end up making him even more antsy to get up and do more work himself, and threading that needle isn't easy. So he makes sure Wufei always has one of his books at hand.
Everyone's pitched in to tighten security during his partner's recovery, so Trowa isn't all too worried about checking windows; if someone gets past the combined efforts of Heero and Duo, Trowa wasn't gonna catch them.
He prepares dinner (read: heats up the food Cathy brought over the other day) and makes two plates, heading out to the living room where Wufei is actually laying down on the couch for once and reading.]
Dinner. [He puts Wufei's plate on the side table, balancing his own on his lap as he sits in the nearby armchair.]
[ it says a lot that wufei is... trying to keep himself reined in. under normal circumstances he'd already be storming the gates trying to get at treize in revenge, but the ease with which the older man pulled the whole thing off has unsettled him enough to keep him off-balance. it's for the best right now though, because he's not currently on a suicide mission.
instead he feels useless and tries to ignore it. the book he's reading is heavy and takes a lot of brain power, so it's nice to have that break from what he's been forced to feel. at the moment dinner sounds better though and he shifts so that he can sit up, grimacing as he sets the book aside and picks up his plate. ]
Thanks.
[ thankfully his appetite is still in place. he needs all the nutrients he can get right now, after all. ] Any news? [ of... anything. it's strange, not having his finger on the pulse of everything. ]
[Trowa doesn't remark on the grimace, but he does notice it, file it away for later. Wufei won't take pain killers, and he's learned the hard way from previous grievous injuries that trying to sneak them into him isn't worth it, but next time maybe he'll set up the couch so Wufei's got pillows to prop himself up on.]
Not much. The deal in Amsterdam went as planned. Nothing from Khushrenada's people. [Even if that weren't true, Trowa would probably say it. But it's not a lie-- the man has gone quiet, for now.]
[ they're both high-tech military units, but the problem with building ais is that they learn. and when they learn the extent of what they're expected to do, the chaos they're being used to create, maybe, just maybe, they'll bail.
not without causing a ton of damage on the way out, of course.
but that went as expected. they work as well-oiled machines, literally and figuratively, and the pair of them get out clean, or as clean as possible. wufei is damaged in the escape, but it's easily taken care of once they're free. and they are free now, until they're caught and reset, and it's...not as scary as it should be.
they're lucky that they can rely on solar energy to recharge, for that matter, when power gets low. but it's raining outside today, and they're settled in the abandoned (ahem) house they found that's been supplying the shelter they need. power levels are fine, for now: wufei's a bit lower than trowa, but he's managing well enough for the time being. perhaps it'll be sunny tomorrow.
he's pensive though, looking out the windows from his seat, and turns toward trowa after an unsettling thought strikes him. it's still difficult to think for himself, but it's... better than following orders mindlessly. ]
How soon do you think we'll need to leave this place?
[If they could risk interfacing with the internet, they'd be much better off-- having a weather report would be very useful right now, for one. But that's just asking to be caught.
The damage Wufei sustained will take care of itself... but it'll take up more of his power to do it. He's running scenarios and probabilities when Wufei speaks up, drawing his attention.]
...Sooner if the rain doesn't stop. We need to find transportation.
I agree. There are more houses to the South, but there's no guarantee we won't face resistance there, since it's more heavily populated.
[ he has maps uploaded into his brain, which is helpful, because he can just access them at any time rather than worry about the internet connection. still, a weather report would be nice. ]
It's plausible that going at night would be more prudent. Less likely to find any residents awake.
[Trowa hums an agreement, not liking their chances of being spotted during the day. But if they're going to make the next leg of their escape route, they need to be in the best possible form.]
Will you have enough power to make that trip after you're fixed up? [He nods towards the damage.] We need to optimize before we make our attempt.
[There are a number of issues that come with Trowa's complete lack of personal history, not the least of which is that he seems to be an entirely off the market build, no model number or perfectly fitted replacement parts... and no maintenance manual.
And given that he'd been found in literal pieces, despite Wufei's exceptional work given the circumstances, the odd problem was bound to pop up even so many months later. It's the fingers on Trowa's right hand this time, something must have gone wrong with his wiring because they're either not responding the way he intended or not responding at all.
He holds the offending hand's wrist, frowning, as he enters Wufei's workroom.] There's a problem.
[ wufei is good with mechanics. he put trowa back together after finding him in a literal dumpster, but, well, yeah, he's a custom model, and there are some weird things about his construction that elude even him. still, they manage, and wufei, perhaps surprisingly, treats trowa more as a companion than a servant.
he's reading some blueprints when trowa enters, tinkering with some small-time robotics (no ai, just a helpful creature) and he looks up, pushing his glasses up his nose to peer at him properly. ]
I see that.
[ he shifts, gesturing toward the same table where he put him back together. ]
[His memory banks of the time before he was junked were wiped, but he knows it's unusual to be treated... like someone rather than something. It's partly because of that that he's stayed with the surly man.
Trowa nods, hopping up on the table. He'd had no awareness while Wufei was putting him back together. A few other problems had occurred since then, but none that required literally getting under his synthetic skin.]
[ it's different, for the simple robots. those are things, unaware. but when you give something, someone, awareness, that is a person that deserves consideration. wufei's views aren't popular with the crowd that sees robots, even those with ai, as cheap labor, but he stands by it.
he waits for trowa to sit, then pulls out his toolkit to set next to him. ]
Possibly. I'll have to take a look. This is going to feel strange.
[ while he's made sure that routine maintenance isn't going to hurt, trowa is high-tech enough to feel things, and it's going to feel odd and maybe a little unsettling when wufei takes a scalpel to the self-healing material that makes up trowa's skin so that he can pull it away and look at the wiring beneath. normally he'd just briefly turn him off, but he needs him awake to test the repairs as he works. ]
[It is likely a perfectly normal day for Quatre when Trowa shows up at his home, completely out of the blue with little more than a change of clothes in the bag slung over his shoulder. He's been restless at the circus, has been for a long time, and it had gotten to the point that even Cathy, in her fierce protectiveness of him, had to admit that he needed to step away.
He'd traveled slowly, with almost no direction at first, but soon enough he'd started heading to where he knew Quatre was, like an invisible rope between them tugged at his chest and led him, inevitably, to the blond's front door.
Even with all that time to think about what he was going to do, what he was going to say when he arrived, his hand hesitates to knock at the door. He knows exactly where he is, and yet he feels more lost than ever before. It's a feeling he hasn't been able to shake for a while now.
Letting out a huff of annoyance at himself, he forces his knuckles to meet the wood in a soft, rhythmic tap.]
[It's a normal day for Quatre, full of work and other such mundane tasks. His life isn't even half as glamorous as people assume it would be given his wealth.
Honestly he'd describe himself as normal. Ordinary even. Just your regular businessman who occasionally did some moonlighting for the Preventers.
But only very, very occasionally.
He's still working when he feels the tug. Ruffling through some documents that need his attention. He ignores the feeling at first, but it his gets stronger. Honestly, Quatre almost overturns his chair as he finally gets up, realizing just what.... or rather who he's sensing. Quatre doesn't quite run, but he does hurry. Still with plenty enough time to check his hair and regain his composure as he waits for the knock.
Maybe he should wait really, but he's already reaching to pull the door open before Trowa's barely managed to set knuckles to wood.]
Trowa!
[There's a happy flush to his cheeks and a sparkle in his eyes. He always glad to see any of his friends, but Trowa admittedly was in a class of his own.]
[The door opens almost immediately, and Quatre looks so damn happy to see him that Trowa feels entirely wrong-footed for a moment. He wasn't sure what sort of reception he was expecting to receive, but it's a relief that it's this. More of a relief that Quatre doesn't ask why he's here, why he's shown up out of nowhere, because honestly? He has no answer for that.]
Thanks. [He nods, a little stiff and awkward still, but there is a hint of a smile on his lips. Quatre's life may not be as glamorous as would be expected, but it's still several steps up from the trailer he'd shared with Cathy. He's never visited before... it's a nice place. It suits Quatre.
His bag is shrugged off and dropped next to the couch.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
i mean who needs two kidneys anyway
It takes some stolen security footage, tracing a burner phone signal, no small amount of bribe money, and the better part of a day to track down where he's been taken to. Even then, it feels an awful lot like someone wanted him to be found. It doesn't sit right with him, doesn't feel like he came to the conclusion purely through his own resources. Just enough things went right for it to feel like he's being led to the motel one of Wufei's abductors was last seen at.
It's exactly the sort of place they tend to do their own business. Hell, they may have used this exact location before. Trowa picks the lock easily enough, weapon drawn and on high alert as he enters, but there's no one in the small, dingy room. The only other door is the bathroom, completely open, for all appearances also empty.
But the shower curtain is closed.
He strides over to it, tears it open, and sure enough, there's Wufei, lying in a tub of ice. Well, fuck.
This isn't about black market prices. This is a message.
He checks for a pulse and runs a hand over his torso to check for injuries. There are very neat stitches on one side; it's a clean job. Now he's convinced that whoever had ordered this had practically led him here, to finding him. They didn't want him dead. They wanted him to live knowing they'd done this to him. He pulled the smaller man up and out of the tub with ease; the cold was likely doing more harm than good at this point.]
not wufei
He comes to too soon, laying on plastic with men hovering over him, and the only things keeping him from kicking up a larger ruckus are the fact that they'd had the good sense to lash him down just in case and that he's still in a daze. They remedy that soon enough though and he's out for good, last attempt at freedom falling flat.
It's not like Wufei wakes up to check the time - he has no idea how much time passes while he's in this grubby hellhole, doesn't register how long it takes them to slice him open and take him apart, can't fathom how long they have him out for in cold storage. He only comes back to Earth when he's being moved so long afterward and even then his grasp on reality is tenuous, immediate reaction being to jerk roughly in Trowa's arms and try to get loose, swearing and shuddering. His skin is cold and clammy and he's shaking - he's still stuck in stasis, lost in a moment earlier in the timeline where this was necessary.
The pain blooms as soon as the very first echoes of shock wear off and he grits his teeth, wheeling his head around to stare at
well
Trowa.
His eyes focus slowly on the lines of his face, on his expression, and finally, finally stills.
He's shaking. ]
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I've got you. We need to get you out of here.
[He speaks lowly, for Wufei's benefit more than anything. As expected, the hotel towels are thin, small, and shitty, but they're all that's in reach, so he wraps them around Wufei as best he can, toweling off his hair and neck.
As soon as Wufei is lucid enough to recognize him, Trowa lifts him up into his arms again, unceremonious.]
Can you speak?
[Already he's running through a mental checklist- first priority is getting him warm and dry, the last thing he needs is hypothermia. He can grab the blanket on the bed and turn the heat up in the car. It's late spring and fairly warm out, but obviously running the AC is a no-go. There's a friendly clinic about a twenty minute drive from here-- they'll be able to do a blood transfusion, and likely anything else immediately needed.
He just needs to keep Wufei conscious.]
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He stands still while this happens, one hand on the back of the toilet to support himself, and at the question he just stares blankly a moment like he's trying to process it. ]
Yes.
[ It's rasped out at length and he shifts, moving to clutch at Trowa's shoulder instead, a more even ground to keep himself level. ]
How long?
[ --has he been gone. he knows they need to get a move on but he needs to know. for another moment he's distracted, gaze dropping to the bathoom counter where all of his clothes are neatly folded like some kind of sick maid service did it for him while he was out.
On top of the pile sits a single rose. Mocking him. ]
Help me get dressed.
[ Firmer, suddenly, like that matters. He's still staring at the splash of red against the black of his clothes. ]
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[Trowa hasn't slept, but that goes without saying. In grabbing for the towels, he'd noticed the pile of folded clothes, as well as the rose resting on top of them. They both were familiar with Khushrenada's calling card.
Silently, Trowa plucked a wet rose petal off of Wufei's shoulder. They'd been in the bath as well. It would almost be funny if it weren't so fucked up.
He considers the clothes again, at the demand. They are dry, and Wufei will be far easier to handle with that little bit of retained dignity.]
Once you're dried off. Wearing wet clothes won't help.
[Unfortunately they're quickly running out of shitty hotel towels.]
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more mafia au
the second day goes smoothly enough but it takes longer to get things sorted out than they would like: they're invited to spend another night as guests to iron things out the next morning and wufei accepts for the both of them. they're about to settle in for another night of work when things go sideways. they're talking in hushed tones in their room when something unsettles wufei and the prickle at his neck makes him stand and go to the door, opening it.
the man in the hall at their door with listening equipment practically falls into the room and wufei looks left, looks right, and drags him into the room before shutting the door. a rat, he says, perturbed, and covers his mouth before he can call for help.
it's a simple answer to kill him, but they'll have to cover it up afterward and destroy the equipment as well. straddling the man's chest to hold him down, he holds out his free hand toward trowa and curves his fingers inward in a 'gimme' gesture that the other man will understand means he wants the concealed short blade in their supplies. ]
garbage boys are trash
He grabs the knife Wufei is gesturing for, but pauses before handing it over and shaking his head.] Not yet.
[Trowa looms over the man, all traces of the gently puzzled French model completely wiped from his being.] Either way, you're going to die. We can make it quick and painless, or we can make it very slow and agonizing, so I will offer you a choice. Who ordered you to listen in on us? Don't lie. I'll know. [After all, good liars can always spot worse ones, and the chances of this fool being a better liar than Trowa is slim to none.] If you try and scream, I'll stop you before you get the chance. Am I understood?
[Underneath Wufei's hand, the man nods. Trowa presses the knife to his Adam's apple, then addresses Wufei without taking his eyes off their captive.] Let him speak.
[As soon as Wufei's hand is lifted, he does. It's not a scream, but it's not the result Trowa wanted either.] "I'm not telling you shit." [He spits in Trowa's face, but his only reaction is to press the knife down harder.]
I wouldn't do that if I were you.
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he watches what transpires quietly, impassively, with his glasses sliding down his nose slightly. when the man spits in trowa's face wufei says nothing, but he shifts slightly, hand alighting at trowa's wrist briefly before he moves to plant his boot on the floor, holding the man's arm down in place so that he has access to it. ]
Cover his mouth again.
[ as soon as trowa does, wufei uses all the leverage he has with his positioning to stomp his boot heel on the man's fingers. the crunch is sickening and the muffled sound the man makes is more like a wounded animal than a person. wufei stills, grinding his heel down, then shifts to rest on his knees again, very close as he leans forward. ] It'd suit you far better to listen to what we say.
[ as he's currently trying to force trowa's hand off of his face, it's doubtful he's doing so. ]
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He really doesn't look very cooperative, does he? In a quick series of movements, Trowa drops the knife within Wufei's reach and forces the man's jaw to stay open with his now freed hand, grabbing onto his tongue and yanking it out of his mouth more than enough to be painful.] If you're not going to talk, I see no reason for you to keep this.
[All he can make is choked off spluttering noises, but they don't have the note of begging compliance Trowa is looking for.] Knife. [His hands are occupied. As far as Trowa is concerned, this is his last chance. If being moments away from watching his own tongue be cut out of his mouth doesn't get him to talk, nothing they can do here and now will.]
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kidney aftercare lmao
he knows he's being watched so that he doesn't do anything stupid, but he's taking his antibiotics and eating and that's enough, right? he has iron supplements too, to stave off possible anemia, but even with that and the transfusion he's still a little too weak to be of any use. he's supposed to rest for two whole weeks and he's already climbing the walls in frustration.
he feels hunted, seen, and useless. nothing had been left behind in him, evidenced by the doctor's careful examination, but the flayed-open feeling hasn't gone away. he wonders if it ever will. he's trying to compartmentalize but it's difficult without anything to occupy him and he stalks his apartment like a caged animal, exerting too much energy on pacing when he should be in bed or at the very least on the couch.
when he does settle it's brief, but right now he's managed to cool his heels enough to sit and read one of the books he keeps around. it's something to get lost in, something to use to take up his attention so that he doesn't go stir crazy. it's better than he was the last time someone checked up on him, when he was checking out the windows every five minutes, sure he's being watched by more than his comrades.
at least the pain lessens when he's still and quiet. ]
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Everyone's pitched in to tighten security during his partner's recovery, so Trowa isn't all too worried about checking windows; if someone gets past the combined efforts of Heero and Duo, Trowa wasn't gonna catch them.
He prepares dinner (read: heats up the food Cathy brought over the other day) and makes two plates, heading out to the living room where Wufei is actually laying down on the couch for once and reading.]
Dinner. [He puts Wufei's plate on the side table, balancing his own on his lap as he sits in the nearby armchair.]
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instead he feels useless and tries to ignore it. the book he's reading is heavy and takes a lot of brain power, so it's nice to have that break from what he's been forced to feel. at the moment dinner sounds better though and he shifts so that he can sit up, grimacing as he sets the book aside and picks up his plate. ]
Thanks.
[ thankfully his appetite is still in place. he needs all the nutrients he can get right now, after all. ] Any news? [ of... anything. it's strange, not having his finger on the pulse of everything. ]
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Not much. The deal in Amsterdam went as planned. Nothing from Khushrenada's people. [Even if that weren't true, Trowa would probably say it. But it's not a lie-- the man has gone quiet, for now.]
2 robots in love
not without causing a ton of damage on the way out, of course.
but that went as expected. they work as well-oiled machines, literally and figuratively, and the pair of them get out clean, or as clean as possible. wufei is damaged in the escape, but it's easily taken care of once they're free. and they are free now, until they're caught and reset, and it's...not as scary as it should be.
they're lucky that they can rely on solar energy to recharge, for that matter, when power gets low. but it's raining outside today, and they're settled in the abandoned (ahem) house they found that's been supplying the shelter they need. power levels are fine, for now: wufei's a bit lower than trowa, but he's managing well enough for the time being. perhaps it'll be sunny tomorrow.
he's pensive though, looking out the windows from his seat, and turns toward trowa after an unsettling thought strikes him. it's still difficult to think for himself, but it's... better than following orders mindlessly. ]
How soon do you think we'll need to leave this place?
electric smoochies
The damage Wufei sustained will take care of itself... but it'll take up more of his power to do it. He's running scenarios and probabilities when Wufei speaks up, drawing his attention.]
...Sooner if the rain doesn't stop. We need to find transportation.
hell yeah
[ he has maps uploaded into his brain, which is helpful, because he can just access them at any time rather than worry about the internet connection. still, a weather report would be nice. ]
It's plausible that going at night would be more prudent. Less likely to find any residents awake.
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Will you have enough power to make that trip after you're fixed up? [He nods towards the damage.] We need to optimize before we make our attempt.
routine maintenance GONE SEXY [NSFW!!] [NOT CLICKBAIT!!!!]
And given that he'd been found in literal pieces, despite Wufei's exceptional work given the circumstances, the odd problem was bound to pop up even so many months later. It's the fingers on Trowa's right hand this time, something must have gone wrong with his wiring because they're either not responding the way he intended or not responding at all.
He holds the offending hand's wrist, frowning, as he enters Wufei's workroom.] There's a problem.
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he's reading some blueprints when trowa enters, tinkering with some small-time robotics (no ai, just a helpful creature) and he looks up, pushing his glasses up his nose to peer at him properly. ]
I see that.
[ he shifts, gesturing toward the same table where he put him back together. ]
Sit and I'll have a look at it.
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Trowa nods, hopping up on the table. He'd had no awareness while Wufei was putting him back together. A few other problems had occurred since then, but none that required literally getting under his synthetic skin.]
Wiring issue, I suspect?
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he waits for trowa to sit, then pulls out his toolkit to set next to him. ]
Possibly. I'll have to take a look. This is going to feel strange.
[ while he's made sure that routine maintenance isn't going to hurt, trowa is high-tech enough to feel things, and it's going to feel odd and maybe a little unsettling when wufei takes a scalpel to the self-healing material that makes up trowa's skin so that he can pull it away and look at the wiring beneath. normally he'd just briefly turn him off, but he needs him awake to test the repairs as he works. ]
Alright?
[ he sounds curious, rather than concerned. ]
(no subject)
Just... casually parks here. As promised.
sticks my leggy out real far
He'd traveled slowly, with almost no direction at first, but soon enough he'd started heading to where he knew Quatre was, like an invisible rope between them tugged at his chest and led him, inevitably, to the blond's front door.
Even with all that time to think about what he was going to do, what he was going to say when he arrived, his hand hesitates to knock at the door. He knows exactly where he is, and yet he feels more lost than ever before. It's a feeling he hasn't been able to shake for a while now.
Letting out a huff of annoyance at himself, he forces his knuckles to meet the wood in a soft, rhythmic tap.]
/ wolf whistles
Honestly he'd describe himself as normal. Ordinary even. Just your regular businessman who occasionally did some moonlighting for the Preventers.
But only very, very occasionally.
He's still working when he feels the tug. Ruffling through some documents that need his attention. He ignores the feeling at first, but it his gets stronger. Honestly, Quatre almost overturns his chair as he finally gets up, realizing just what.... or rather who he's sensing. Quatre doesn't quite run, but he does hurry. Still with plenty enough time to check his hair and regain his composure as he waits for the knock.
Maybe he should wait really, but he's already reaching to pull the door open before Trowa's barely managed to set knuckles to wood.]
Trowa!
[There's a happy flush to his cheeks and a sparkle in his eyes. He always glad to see any of his friends, but Trowa admittedly was in a class of his own.]
What a pleasant surprise. Come in, come in!
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Thanks. [He nods, a little stiff and awkward still, but there is a hint of a smile on his lips. Quatre's life may not be as glamorous as would be expected, but it's still several steps up from the trailer he'd shared with Cathy. He's never visited before... it's a nice place. It suits Quatre.
His bag is shrugged off and dropped next to the couch.]
(no subject)