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"Get A Grip"Written By: Ashkara Disclaimer: I sadly enough do not own them. Sigh. Rating: PG Warnings: Angst Pairings: 3+4, 1+2 //BLAH// indicates character thoughts. Summary: Trowa and Quatre face their own set of
trials on their missions, and along the way teach Heero a thing or
two about being human. " Get A Grip "
“Trowa! Pull up! Dammit, acknowledge!” Quatre could have sworn he felt his heart stop beating as he watched the other suit, out of ammunition, going into evasive manoeuvres that nearly smashed it into the nearest hill. The unibanged pilot felt vaguely guilty for worrying the Arabian so badly as he calmly pulled out of his dive at the last possible second. The three Leos following him were not so lucky. He banked hard right as more suits formed up on him, lining up the shots for Quatre. The fight was quickly over, and an irate Quatre opened his comm link. “What on Earth did you think you were doing? You could have been hit…” Trowa gave one of his rare smiles, though it died quickly as he realised just how worried his lover had been. “I’m sorry I worried you. I knew what I was doing, though.” The two suits were streaking through the night towards the waiting cargo plane, and Quatre allowed himself to relax a bit. He had been worried, but Trowa was still right- he was trained to do what he had done, and they were all the best at it. “You’re right, and I’m sorry- I overreacted. Now let’s see how the others are doing.” El Salvador- he grinned. //Shinigami strikes again!// there had been no warning before the place was incinerated, though it seemed that guard troops stationed nearby had shown up and given Duo and Wufei a fight. Nothing they couldn’t handle- he had complete confidence in that! Norway, now. But even as he typed in the new coordinates, Quatre grabbed at his chest and pain racked through him. //Heero!// He shook it off and growled at himself for the lapse as the satellite feed came in- Wing had taken quite a beating, but was still raining destruction on anything dumb enough to approach… The base, at least, had been completely obliterated. Quatre toggled the comm link. “Trowa, I think Heero’s gotten cooked. I’m worried about him.” “Spaceheart?” Quatre nodded, his eyes bright with worry. “Yes- and check out the satellite- you’ll see what I mean.” Another comm beeping brought both their heads around, and Quatre slapped at it. “Authenticate, over.” His heart began beating wildly as a well-known voice spoke up, laced through with well- controlled pain. “Uniform Yankee Alpha, pilot 01, over.” //Uniform Yankee Alpha- stands for up yours, ass-wipe! Or so Duo says…// “Go ahead, 01. 04 and 03 here, over.” Heero’s image popped up- he was holding something against his forehead to stem the blood flow from what looked to be a nasty gash, and he was deadly pale. “Ninmu ryoukai, but need extraction. My suit has sustained some… heavy… damage, and I… I have to land… soon. My head’s… pounding…” Trowa spoke up. “Roger that, 01. We’re en route. Can you make it to these coordinates, over.” He sent a short transmission. Heero seemed to consider for a moment. “Affirmative. Will be waiting for you there. 01 out.” Quatre looked at Trowa, one eyebrow raised. “Ekaterinburg? We can’t get there with the fuel we have…” Trowa nodded his agreement. “I’ll take the plane out again after it’s refuelled at our safe house- there’ll be plenty to get to Heero and back, and you can coordinate from base.” Quatre sighed, not liking it but knowing that it was their best option. “Very well. Get some rest, then, while we shuttle.” *** Dawn was four hours off when they finally reached the safe house, another Winner family ‘Country House’ on the Black Sea. Quatre didn’t bother with the ladder- he jumped down to the ground from his cockpit and conjured a smile as he turned to face the people racing to greet him. “Quatre-sama! Praise Allah, you’re safe!” Rashid’s voice boomed to him. But Quatre didn’t smile. He had already read the look on the huge Manguanac leader’s face. “Thank you, Rashid. The shuttle needs immediate refuelling, if you could.” Several Manguanacs snapped Quatre mock salutes before running to follow orders. Now that he was alone with Rashid, Quatre allowed some of his worry to show. “What’s the matter?” Rashid pulled the blond aside as Trowa piloted Sandrock out of the transport, ordering others to load up ammunition for Heavyarms. “Report just came in from a source- an entire battalion of space Tauruses and pilots.” “Where? When?” The Arabian pilot was already jogging towards a nearby computer terminal. Rashid strode alongside him. “Spaceport Portland, USA. Departure set for dawn, their time.” “Quatre! QUATRE!!!” The blond spun quickly as he heard Trowa’s alarm-filled yell, his sharp eyes scanning for danger… BOOM! Trowa’s body tackle took the other boy down mere seconds before an MS fuel tank exploded violently. The blond struggled violently to move out from beneath a motionless Trowa, cursing under his breath- he could see another figure darting towards them, gun drawn and pointing… “No way you fucking bastard!” Quatre’s own weapon came up and fired once. The man fell with an extra hole between his eyebrows. Quatre spun back around, eyes immediately fixed on Trowa’s prone figure. “Trowa! Come on, say something, anything! Trowa?!” he called frantically, checking the other boy for a pulse and nearly sobbing with relief when he found it. //Praise Allah, he’s still alive!// The Austrian boy moaned and grimaced, opening his eyes slowly. “Qu-Quatre? Are you alright?” “Me?! Am I alright? Trowa, I was so scared for you!” Quatre kissed the other boy hard. Trowa’s eyes were half glazed by the time they broke the kiss and looked around, but more in pain than in passion. The blond knew that his lover would need medical attention… His hangar was on fire, the plane destroyed, and he could make out another prone figure, this one large and imposing… “Rashid!” Quatre made his way to where the tall Arab was trying to sit up, a shaky Trowa following on his heels. Blood poured form multiple wounds on the Arab’s body, and Quatre cursed again as he quickly checked for broken bones. “He’s got four broken ribs and a fractured tibia, Trowa. He needs a doctor.” The Austrian glanced around them. “We can’t afford to stay here, Quatre. We’ll have to take him along, somehow.” “I don’t know if he’ll fit in a Gundam’s cockpit…” A weak hand came up. “Qua… tre… transport… west field…” Rashid rasped out painfully. Quatre nodded turning to his lover. “I’m going after that plane! You stay here with him, okay?” He waited for a nod before taking off at a run. //They knew where to find us- they must have followed the prep team, dammit! OZ has somehow gotten a tag on the Manguanac Corps…// Quatre frowned as he darted through a pair of cargo doors. //They won’t take it well, but I’ll have to insist that they don’t follow me around anymore! We can’t risk it…// Blue green eyes blazed as Quatre Winner dashed through the darkened compound, less than a flitting shadow. //And we’ve got to pick Heero up, too. Just great!// *** “I want both these patients watched very carefully, doctor. I have to leave, but I should be back in a few hours’ time with another patient for you. I hope I don’t need to remind you to keep this quiet…” Quatre’s eyes flashed maliciously, and his voice rang with the tone of command he so hated using. But he was pissed. Doctor Salid took a step back in shock- he had heard that young Master Quatre was not one to be crossed when in business mode, and he could now see why. //He’ll make a wonderful head to Winner Enterprises…// “Of course, sir! We will watch them well.” Quatre had somehow managed to get Sandrock, Heavyarms and the casualties loaded before the police showed up, and then blasted out over their surprised heads. That was two hours ago. It had been slow going to avoid OZ patrols and radar sites, but Quatre had flown them out and across to another estate in the Iranian desert, arriving pissed off and unannounced. It didn’t help to know that he was all worked up and lashing out t his employees, either. //And now I just have to hope that Heero’s still alive, and I won’t have to tell Duo that he…// “Duo! Wufei!” He had forgotten about Portland! He keyed in Wufei’s comm code in a flash. “Come on, Wufei…” The Chinese boy’s face flashed onscreen, glaring at him with a mixture of affection and anger. “I hope you have a good reason for this, Winner! Even Chang Wufei needs sleep…” Quatre interrupted quickly- he had no patience for small talk- and sent Duo on the mission, firmly deciding not to worry about it until he had Heero back to safety. Signing off, though, Quatre was again ridden with worry. //Please be careful, Duo, and I’ll make sure Heero’s okay…// He typed in the coordinates and did a quick scan- wing, at least, had reached the rendezvous. He would have to pray that the Japanese pilot had made it, too. *** Quatre proceeded cautiously, gun held at ready in front of him. No one had either tried to prevent his landing or meet him… Yet. If OZ had gotten there and neutralised Heero already, they were being damned subtle. He froze as he felt the cold metal of a pistol barrel pressed to his temple and a voice coldly spoke, “Identify yourself!” The Arabian sighed as he recognised the voice- //Heero.// He answered promptly, “It’s me, Quatre! I’m here, Heero- stand down!” He gave the lightest sigh of relief as the pistol was uncocked and the Japanese pilot stepped forward. Heero have him a once-over. “You look like hell. What happened?” Quatre filled the other in as he quickly re-treated his wounds and re-bound them. Standing, he tossed aside other questions for the moment. “Where’s Wing?” Heero stood shakily. “I’ll show you.” It took them a half an hour to get the suit loaded and, by then, Heero had reached the end of his rather incredible endurance. He collapsed into the co-pilot’s chair with a grunt. Quatre handed him some coffee and he accepted it without comment. “So… how did Wufei and… Duo do?” Quatre smiled- it had taken only twenty minutes in the plane for Heero to ask the question, and Quatre didn’t miss the slight catch in the Japanese boy’s voice. He took his time in responding, downing some more coffee. “They’re both fine, though it seems Nataku got a bit damaged, enough that we sent Duo out solo about two hours ago. A new mission came up.” //I’m not going to get all worried about that baka- I refuse it!// “Hn.” Quatre stole a sideways glance at his friend. “So what was all that yesterday? He was really upset.” “…” “Fine, we’ll talk about it when you’re ready, Heero,” Quatre said in frustration. The next moment, surprised, he turned to his companion, and then back to the controls. “Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle! He’s asleep!” *** Heero didn’t regain consciousness before Quatre put him down onto another infirmary bed. As he blinked himself awake, he could hear Trowa’s voice asking, “Any news from Duo, yet?” Quatre was leaning heavily on the taller boy, aqua eyes bleary and red with fatigue. “Wufei said he made it back and crashed into bed. He’s been going about as long as I have.” “Qua…tre…” Heero was cut off as a doctor walked in, frowning as he stared down at the young blond. “Doctor, he’s lost a lot of blood, but I think he’s stabilised.” Quatre forced awareness on himself for a little longer. Doctor Salid looked the blond over critically. “Fine, Master Winner. But you’re getting some rest now, or you can find yourself a new doctor to bully around.” The Arabian looked upset. “Yes- I am sorry about that.” He smiled as he finally realised that Heero was awake. “How are you feeling, Heero?”
Trowa smiled wryly. “Ja, he’ll be fine- he’s got his sense of humour back. And now,” he said, hauling Quatre away by the arm, “you need sleep and I’ll handcuff you into bed if you fight me on it.” Quatre pretended to grumble as he was led out. *** Trowa knocked and waited for the terse "Come in!" before entering Heero's room. The Japanese boy was supremely pissed off- the Doctor had gone as far as threatening to wake Quatre up if he didn't comply with directions to remain in bed for the rest of the day. After seeing Quatre earlier, even Heero didn't want to try that option. The Austrian pilot let himself in and quickly took a seat next to the bed and its glowering inhabitant. "I thought you'd want to know- Duo's radioed in and sent his mission report. He's fine and damages were minimal to none." Heero grunted. "That braided baka is one of the best pilots I've ever worked with. It's when he's working with others that I have to worry." Trowa felt almost as though he had been slapped. "It… wasn't my fault, Yuy. It was just… bad luck." "You should never have left him, Barton." Trowa's anger finally peaked. "If there had been another way, I would have gotten him out, but there wasn't. The risk is part of the job!" He stood and was ready to leave, when he collapsed onto himself, sitting back down quietly. "I’m sorry, Heero. I understand your anger- I would react the same was if it had been, say, you and Quatre." "It's nothing like that…" //My God- Is the Perfect Soldier blushing?!// "Then how is it, Heero?" he couldn't help a small smile. "American baka- it's not a thing like that!" Trowa stood to make his way to the door. "I think it is, Yuy. Face it." The door closed behind him. Heero sat back with a snort. It was impossible. He of all people, who was trained to ignore feelings, to see people as either enemies or allies, but never friends… //But do I? Duo, Quatre, Wufei… hell, even Trowa- they're all my friends. I care about all of them…// But to love somebody- that had to be beyond him. It was the ultimate weakness- it made even the strongest of people easy to predict and control. And to harm. Everyone knew how crushed Quatre would be if someone killed Trowa and vice-versa. Crushed- and then raging mad, enough so to act stupidly and get killed, as well. The Perfect Soldier could not afford such weakness. Even for Duo Maxwell. Heero felt a smile forming reluctantly as he recalled an image of the boy in question, violet-blue eyes glinting in mischief and silky braid streaming behind him as he passed a basketball… eyes dark and solemn in that angelic face as he looked down into Heero's eyes- was it only about a day ago? //Fine. Maybe I'm… extremely fond of him. But it's not the same thing! Of course it would hurt if he died! But the Perfect Soldier does not love… it isn't allowed.// Heero grunted and scowled at the ceiling. It all felt wrong, very wrong, as much as he couldn't admit to it. Duo was just a different story, a whole new set of feelings that the Japanese boy refused to accept. That scared him deeply. He rolled over and closed his eyes, gratefully letting his training take over. He was a soldier, after all, and soldiers needed all the sleep they could get. *** Multiple explosions rocked an OZ base, and a heart-shaped face broke into an evil grin as suits approached to engage the lone Gundam. "Ya wanna piece of me? Then COME AND TAKE IT!" Duo threw himself into the battle with his customary abandon, scythe cleaving enemy suits down as though they didn't even exist. He was an instinctive pilot, moving as though he had eyes not only on the back of his head, but the sides, as well. Shield launch. Five more suits were incinerated as the buster shield hit and exploded violently. Ten more suits cut down in the blink of an eye as pilots turned to stare at the inferno that had been their comrades. And then one turned, murder glinting in its pilot's eyes as he lifted a space laser rifle and took aim on the hulking black demon… He knew that he would die, but he would at least take the murderer with him… In the cockpit of his suit, Shinigami paled, his eyes widening in fear, but hardening in acceptance as he realised… "Oh, Heero…" The explosion could be seen three miles away- its fireball incinerating the lesser suits almost instantaneously, but Duo was screaming in pain as Gundanium armour slowly burned through and… *** "DUO! DAMMIT! NO, DUO!!" Heero was sitting bolt upright in bed, fists clenched in the blankets as his mind struggled with the images. "Duo's fine- He's safe, Heero. That must have been some dream," a low, cultured voice spoke from beside him. He turned to find Quatre seated next to him. Heero was hyperventilating. "He… god, he was blown to bits, and screaming, hair on fire…" Quatre grabbed hold of the other boy as he began to shake. "Hush! Sshh, Heero, it was just a nightmare. It's alright…" Still trembling, Heero looked up into Quatre's eyes. "A nightmare?" Quatre smiled at him reassuringly. "Hai. I talked to him only an hour ago. Duo is safe." Heero forced mind and body to relax, letting the blond pull him closer and rock him like a small child. He knew that Quatre wouldn't push him to talk- the Arabian understood the need for privacy- but Heero suddenly felt a burning need to share his thoughts and feelings. He couldn't understand it anymore- perhaps Quatre would. As his trembling subsided, Heero began to talk. “It was awful, Quatre. In my… dream, Duo had been on a mission and had done it- the base was completely gone. But he was attacked, and one of the suits pulled a suicide attack on him… Stupid! He’s far too good a pilot to be caught that easily! “But all I could think of was that he was dying. And I saw it- I could hear him screaming and there was nothing I could do! He was calling my name…” Heero stopped as he began to shake again. “It’s alright, Heero,” Quatre whispered soothingly. “NO, IT’S NOT ALRIGHT, DAMMIT!” Heero pulled away almost violently, turning on his friend with wild eyes. “Before I met him- before I met any of you- I never had dreams like these! They sca… impede my operational capabilities!” Quatre bit back a knowing smirk. “Uh huh, right. It’s your delusion, not mine, Heero. But let’s get something straight.” Quatre’s eyes were hard once again as they pinned the Japanese boy where he lay. “You don’t have to hide it from anyone. The only person who doesn’t seem to know you love Duo is braidy-boy, himself!” Heero shook his head in disbelief and growled, “I don’t love anyone, especially that stupid idiot!” Quatre’s hand connected with Heero’s face with surprising force, and Wing’s pilot reeled in shock- Quatre had just struck him? He turned his head back around to see tears pooling in the other boy’s eyes. “Don’t you dare, Heero Yuy! Duo is NOT stupid and, contrary to what you seem to think, he won’t always understand why you push him away! Do you have any idea how hurt he was yesterday? How upset he probably still is? I don’t know what happened between you two, but he looked like his heart was breaking and you acted as if you didn’t give a damn!” Heero’s angry look faded into confusion. “Duo has to know what I can’t tell him! He always knows- he can always tell…” “And what if, for once, he didn’t know?” Trowa’s voice asked form the doorway. The tall pilot walked in and seated himself at the foot of the bed. “He was honestly happy, I think, and then you fucked up, Yuy! And I’d really love to see a true smile on that kid’s face, for once! What happened?” As much as Trowa never truly raised his voice, Heero could feel the anger and violence radiating from him and it worried him. He debated making a break for the door and quickly nixed the idea- weakened as he was, he’d never make it past the other two. He sighed in defeat. “What happened… Fine, I’ll tell you.” And he did, remembering each caress, each word so clearly… Each kiss… He looked up as he finished to two completely different reactions- while Trowa was barely holding his anger in check, empathic tears of heartbreak and pain flowed down the blond’s face. Quatre’s sorrowful eyes met Heero’s and the Japanese boy felt a wave of guilt wash over him- was this what Duo had been hiding inside, behind his joker’s mask? The Arabian finally spoke, but it was worse than the silence, “Heero… Oh, Heero, how could you?! After he finally admitted that he loves you… Why?” “Yes, please tell us why you’re torturing
my little brother,” Trowa added, single eye flashing menacingly. “Oh, please! You’re not blind, Heero! Why can’t you see it?” Trowa’s tone dripped with sarcasm. “Don’t you think someone with his past has dealt with enough rejection already? Hasn’t he been through enough of that?” “I didn’t want to hurt him…” “Oh Heero,” Quatre said softly, “that’s all you’ve done. He gave you his heart and soul and you kicked him down for it. Why can’t you say the words? It’s really very easy when you feel it like you do.” Heero crumbled under the soft, sad tones. It would have been easier, somehow, if the blond had decked him instead, as Trowa was obviously considering doing. “I’m not good at feelings. I can’t…” “Yes, you can.” Trowa’s steely, controlled tones sharply contrasted with Quatre’s. “You’re the Perfect Soldier. You can take out whole battalions on your own, protect an entire colony single-handedly, but you can’t master your own feelings? Get a fucking grip!” Heero heard a tearing sound and abruptly realised that he had shredded the sheet in his hands. His eyes locked with Quatre’s, his thoughts racing- //If he didn’t understand… He must think I don’t give a damn- or I was just using him. He must…// A choked sob broke from the Perfect Soldier’s throat. “Duo…” Quatre’s voice was still so soft. “He’s far too good at hiding it, Heero. He’s too used to pushing his own problems away and dealing with someone else’s. But it’s catching up to him. If he admitted that to you, then he must really have needed it- he had to know that there was at least one person who cared.” “And I…” Heero trembled like a leaf in a windstorm. “You treated him like shit, Yuy,” Trowa growled menacingly. Quatre shot the unibanged boy a dark look. Grabbing Heero’s shoulders, he forced the Japanese boy to look him in the face. “You’ve got to learn to accept it, or you could lose him. Or worse, he could go crazy again.” The other two gave him blank looks. “A… again?” Trowa asked. Quatre blushed to the roots of his hair. “Duo doesn’t know that I know about this.” He warned Trowa with his eyes that Heero might need some restraining. “When Duo was ten, he was grabbed and beaten on the street by a serial rapist and dragged away. The bastard waited until the kid woke up and raped him brutally. Several times.” It took all of Trowa’s strength to hold Heero down as he tried to get up in blind rage, cobalt eyes blazing. “What are you going to do, Heero? What can you do?” The Japanese boy relaxed slowly and Trowa let him go, eyeing him warily. He finally turned back to Quatre. “Go on.” The blond took a deep breath. “The guy dumped him on the street to die, but you both know how resilient Duo is. He survived, and he went back, letting his rage take over. Professor G guesses he went completely mad- Duo brutally murdered his rapist, and then went out looking, killing every pimp and pusher he came across. An early vision of our Shinigami.” “When he was ten?!” Trowa exclaimed. “How did he survive- L2 is not a safe place…” “Shinigami,” Quatre interrupted. “He became Shinigami and only allowed that part of him out in darkness, unseen until he acted, and then undetectable afterwards.” Both Quatre and Trowa’s heads came around with painful snaps as Heero screamed in rage, bounding from the bed angrily. The other two jumped up to restrain him- Quatre grunted sharply as he was rewarded with a knee to the stomach. But Heero’s strength ebbed quickly and he eventually fell back, dry heaves deep in his chest telling the story of unshed tears. Even Trowa didn’t have the heart to berate the boy further, and Quatre threw his arms around the Japanese pilot’s shoulders. “You see it, don’t you? It must be terribly hard to come back from something like that, and our Duo still has his demons. Lots of them.” “Unworthiness.” Trowa’s normally cool voice shook with remembered pain, and Heero came to an abrupt realisation that the boy was speaking from experience. The Austrian caught Heero looking at him and spoke again. “It’s what you feel- you feel dirty, to the point that you don’t deserve to be touched and loved. Almost at times as though you don’t deserve to live.” Heero’s grip on Quatre tightened painfully. The truth of the two boys’ words was almost as ugly as how he now felt, knowing what he knew… “I’ve got to find him- I must talk to him!” “Shhh,” Quatre soothed, settling the Japanese boy back. “You will.” *** A beeping sound woke Trowa, and he rose grumpily, gently disengaging himself from a yet sleeping Quatre. He flipped on the comm screen. Blazing violet eyes greeted him, glinting with worry. “Thank God you’re okay!” Trowa came nervously awake. “What’s wrong? Has something happened?” Duo’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Assassins! They nearly got Wufei, but I jumped the guy- they found the safe house, man! They knew where we were…” “Where are you now? Where’s 05?” “He’s headed for Vancouver. I’m en route to New York- good place to disappear fro a while.” Duo looked like he was calming down. Trowa gave what passed for a smile. “Heero’s almost fully recovered- we’ll split up tomorrow, but we’ll keep in touch and let you know where we are.” Duo nodded. “Understood. Shinigami out.” The screen went blank. Trowa cursed as he turned back to the bed and shook his lover awake. As Quatre’s eyes opened blearily, the taller boy whispered, “Trouble, little one.” Quatre sat up automatically, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “What is it? Where?” Trowa turned, half-dressed already. “Duo called. Assassins tried to take him and Wufei out, but they both got away. OZ knew where to find them.” Quatre slipped into a pair of jeans and yanked a t-shirt over his head while Trowa waited for him, and the two of them headed to Heero’s room. He was already up and dressed. “What’s wrong?” he asked in greeting. Trowa handled it. “Assassins. Duo and Wufei got away, but we should move, too, as soon as possible.” Heero nodded. “Ryoukai. Who called in?” “Duo did, and they’re both fine,” Trowa reassured the Japanese boy. Heero followed them out without another word. *** Two hours later, three shuttles lifted off and headed in three different directions- Trowa to Berlin, Heero to Los Angeles and Quatre to London. They silently wished each other luck. ~ * ~
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