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"Alternative Directions: Options "Written By: Karina Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or the lovely
boys and their girls in the series. Wish I did. Please don't sue me.
I haven't even got a brass razoo to give you. Rating: Deffinately PG in Australia, at the moment,
but probably safer to say R for later chapters. Not sure about international
ratings Warnings: It will be 6x2, even though it does
not start out that way. After all, Zechs and Duo never met in Gundam
Wing and only spoke briefly over a com line in Endless Waltz. I've
tried to keep them in character as I saw them in the series. A bit
of language creeping in under stressful conditions. Pairings: eventual 6x2, past 2xH, 2+H,6x9, 1+R
Summary: Directions is set post Endless Waltz
and roughly 2 years have passed. Zechs and Noin are on Mars and Duo,
after spending some time with Hilde in a relationship leaves L2 to
join Preventers. Hilde was not happy about his decision. I guess enough
said. Here t'is, and I hope you like it. This is also AU for the standard
setting, as well as the series and Endless Waltz. Spoilers: Gundam Wing Series and Endless Waltz Many thanks to ShenLong Deb for betaing this chapter for me. //... // thoughts
"Alternative Directions: Options"
2nd March AC 198 Sanc Stephansbourg The Coachman's Rest Time: 05:05 Heero
Quatre blinked a second time, a deep breath causing Heero to tense, expecting a renewal of the struggle. "Can you let me up, please?" It was not what he had expected. The very sane sounding whisper came in a husky voice, deeper than Heero was used to hearing from the blonde. The wide eyes looked up at him, calmly observing him with intelligent interest. This was more the Quatre Heero knew and recognized. His voice was low and even, infinitely reasonable. After a moment, in which Heero stared deeply at the face turned up to him, he released his grip on slender shoulders and slid off the bed. "Thank you." Always polite, that too was the Quatre he knew. Drawing a deep breath Heero decided the crisis was past, and he was left with the uncertainty of what to do next. After hesitating for a moment, during which Quatre remained in the bed, still and silent, he turned to the fire, deciding it would be best to encourage the flames and increase the warmth in the room. He was cold, even after the exertion of restraining Quatre, and he did not see that he needed to freeze his butt any longer than necessary. He had no idea how long it would take Quatre to pull himself together, but he was going to wait in comfort, and decide how best to garner an explanation for the weird goings on of the night. He was desperately tired, but with the adrenaline still in his system it would be some time before he would be able to settle down to sleep. If he managed to get any further sleep. The room was quiet except for the snap of the fire as it caught on the new wood. He was careful how he prodded the flames into life, unwilling to smother the welcome heat. His feet felt numb, and he was not inclined to develop frostbite because he could not encourage a fire properly and was too restless to crawl under warm covers and sleep the sleep of the exhausted. //What do I say? What do I do? I will have to say something.// He was not at the best of times the talkative sort and he knew he was lacking in the social graces by the standards of polite society. What he wanted to do was shake the stuffing out of his friend, and demand to know what the hell had happened. How well such action would be received he could guess. Quatre was, despite the deceptive innocence of him, a Gundam Pilot. He had lost nothing of his reflexes from the war, and liked his personal space. "I'm sorry." The quiet apology startled him and he glanced over his shoulder. Quatre still lay in the rumpled bed, his voice quiet, barely above a whisper. He did not seem to have moved beneath the mound of bedding, and after a moment Heero grunted a wordless, neutral 'Hnn'. It seemed safest, though he was uncertain what else he might have said, and Quatre seemed disinclined to get up, or offer anymore than that soft apology. What was he apologizing for anyway? Having a nightmare? They all had those, some worse than others, most centred on the war. What this one had been Heero dared not even hazard a guess. It was certainly not what he had expected from the blonde and he wondered how often Trowa's nights were disturbed. //Sensible as always. Why leave the bed and freeze? It's warm there, and he has the bedding as a shield against the world.// He tossed another piece of wood onto the flames and rubbed a hand across his jaw. He was uncertain what the etiquette was in regard to talking about nightmares with a friend. Especially nightmares strongly featuring said friend's lover. Should he ask what had happened, or should he leave it alone? Did one ask for details, or did one ignore it ever happened? Ignoring such a disruption seemed stupid, and he was damnably curious. Even by Gundam Pilot standards, this nightmare seemed particularly bad. He wanted to ask. He wanted to know what had happened; wanted to understand, but he had never been certain about the grey area of taboo subjects one constantly fell over. There were certain topics one did not discuss, even with close friends, and he thought Quatre considered him to be a friend. This dream, which seemed oddly more than a dream, might well be one of those taboos. "I'm sorry you had to witness that." He sighed. Something in the tone of his voice suggested Quatre wanted to talk, but was labouring under the same uncertainty as tied his tongue. He suspected neither of them knew how to begin, and that was not good. Quatre had always seemed to know exactly what to say, and when to say it. The blonde had always been eloquent; and gifted in the social graces. He had no idea where to start or what to ask. Should he find something to say, something that was safely neutral, or perhaps provocative and try to jump start a dialogue? This silence was becoming trying on his nerves. "What was it?" How inadequate. How thoroughly inept. 'What was it?' A nightmare, that was what it was and they were never fun. He winced and pushed a lock of hair from his eyes. He could surely have found something better than that to say, but that was all that presented itself at the tip of his tongue. It was all that came to mind; 'What was it?' the only coherent thought in his head. "I think- I think it may have been-" Oddly, Quatre seemed not to think it so stupid and obvious a question. He seemed to fumble over the words, uncertain what to say, though he had been given the opening. If Quatre was unable to speak he was more than simply shaken up by the nightmare. Heero had never known the blonde to be speechless. He could surely count the number of times Quatre had been speechless on the fingers of one hand, and have fingers left over. "I think Trowa was dreaming." "What?" The word was startled out of him by the sheer unexpectedness of the statement. Of everything Heero could possibly imagine Quatre might have said that was, perhaps, the most shocking, because it was not on his list of possibilities. What he had expected he did not exactly know, though now he thought on it he perhaps had expected Quatre to attempt to dismiss it as a nightmare. Common enough, but no, that was not what he had done. What he certainly had not expected was for Quatre to point the finger of blame at Trowa. "Excuse me? Trowa?" It was so unlike Quatre to blame another when he seemed to blame himself for every wrong in the ESUN. Bedding rustled as Quatre shifted, but he made no effort to leave the bed, merely rearranged the bedding. Heero had the uncomfortable feeling Quatre was hiding from him, and he would not permit that to go on much longer. There were limits to how long he would converse with a pile of bedding. "I think Trowa was dreaming." Quatre reiterated. "He - I - Well - Trowa sometimes dreams of fire, and there was certainly enough of that in the dream to cause me to believe it was one of his incidents. I think it was him, because I don't dream of fire the way he does. When I do I see a colony exploding and I can feel Zero surrounding me. Those dreams are warped memories of my time under the influence of Zero, when I was insane with grief. I have had such dreams often enough to have no difficulty recognizing them, and this was not one of those nightmares. It felt different." That was certainly not what he had expected, and if anything it was worse. A shared dream? He did not understand, and because of that he did not know how to respond. He had hoped once Quatre opened up a little and started talking, he could grasp the familiar in whatever was said, and run with it. What did he say now to the idea of Quatre dreaming Trowa's dream? He could not very well tell his friend he did not understand. It should be apparent he had no idea what Quatre was talking about, and if he did not say something soon he never would. Quatre was likely to drop off to sleep while he was waiting for something intelligent to say. Perhaps he should engage his mouth and let it run; something half way intelligent might emerge. Hopefully something more intelligent that telling his friend he was a candidate for the asylum and to go back to sleep and let others sleep as well. "Why would you- Scratch that. This makes no sense. How would you know what he dreamed if he was dreaming? I mean, how would you know if Trowa dreamt of fire and if he did, what of it? He was a Mercenary; of course he would have nightmares about fire. We all do, from time to time; have nightmares about the past. He's in the L1 cluster on an investigation, not down the hall from us." Nothing seemed to be coming out just the way he actually meant it to. Quatre was not going to understand what he was trying to say. He had to sort his own confusion out and not outright blame Quatre for his sleepless night. He knew his friend was not exactly normal, not that any of them were what was termed normal, but with Trowa on L1 how could Quatre say he was empathizing with Trowa? At least, that was what he thought Quatre was trying to say. "I mean, Trowa is in the L1 cluster, it's not like he's across the hall, or downstairs for your empathy to pick up on." Now it really sounded as though he accused Quatre of lying. This simply was not working. "Trowa dreams- of flame-" Quatre stirred, the bedding rustling then heaving as he struggled to extricate himself from the tangle. Wrapped as he was in his own bedding plus Heero's; it took him a few minutes to escape, wrap Heero's eiderdown about him and pad to the fire. Pausing at the edge of the mat he seemed to be waiting for Heero to object to his presence, and when he was ignored he curled up on the mat, staring into the flames. "I'm sorry. I'm not explaining this very well." Neither of them was, Heero mused, as he sat back from the fire, giving it time to grow, hugging his knees to his chest as he considered the blonde. "When Trowa dreams of fire, something burns." Quatre whispered, looking as though he hoped Heero would understand the ambiguous comment, when he seemed to barely understand it himself. "I think we need to talk plainly about a few things, Heero." "Hnn." Quatre glared, blue eyes hardening at the reflexive grunt and Heero reminded himself he was supposed to be getting over the use of the generic, wordless 'safe' word. Before he could apologize though, Quatre sighed and the hard glint in his eyes softened. "For some time now I have suspected Trowa of being a clairvoyant with an affinity for fire. I think that makes him an elemental catalyst clairvoyant, someone who is able to sense future events, specifically involving fire. When Trowa dreams of fire it is never anything small or innocuous, like sitting beside a fire. It takes a big event, usually involving the loss of life to make him dream." Heero blinked, sitting back on his heels as he watched his companion's profile, marking the small scowl which drew his face into a taunt mask of concentration. He seemed to be struggling to find words to express his thoughts and Heero was suddenly unsure Quatre was aware of who he was talking to. He did not know what to say to the quiet words suggesting Trowa was anything but normal. The thought of what constituted normal and abnormal stopped him cold. Quatre was an empath; everyone in their select circle knew that. He had recently discovered he was a genetically engineered individual, intended for space exploration, and now Quatre was suggesting Trowa was a psychic. He was not sure what to say, which seemed not to be a problem as Quatre appeared to be lost in his own thoughts. Turning his side to the fire he relished the growing warmth and waited, certain Quatre would come back to himself soon enough and continue his explanation. "We have been together now for a few years and I've noticed the signs. I have tried to convince him that he is not just having nightmares, but he's stubborn. He will not admit the dreams are something more than nightmares; something more substantial. He's not used to having someone care, I think. He's not had an easy life." Heero snorted softly. When all was said and done, few of the former Gundam Pilots had had easy lives. Quatre's had been the most normal, with Wu Fei running a close second, at least until their mid teens. Trowa had been a mercenary for as long as he could remember, and Duo had been a street kid turned Sweeper. As for himself- well, there was nothing normal about his childhood. At least he had emerged from it sane. //But am I sane? There are days I have to wonder what sanity is and this night seems to belong in the plainly insane category. Maybe this is a nightmare and I am the one dreaming? Damn, this is not good.// Quatre sighed and closed his eyes, opening up the eiderdown to let in the warmth of the fire, even as he pulled the blanket tighter about his shoulders. "I'm sorry. I know I am not explaining this well, but I am trying. You know I am an Empath. It seems when it comes to someone I love I have a remarkably long range for picking up on their emotional state. I can always feel Trowa during highly charged, emotional moments." "A remarkably long range?" Heero snorted and scratched at his unruly mop of hair. "I guess that would have to be considered something of an understatement if you can feel Trowa from here. He's not even on the planet." "I don't know how this ability works, Heero! Well, I know a little, I guess, but not a great deal of what I really want to know." Quatre ducked his head, shuffling his butt a little closer to the fire, tucking the eiderdown over his toes. "Psychic theory is something of a grey area in science. It appears to be largely unexplored and poorly documented. Most of what is documented is hearsay, with few really creditable accounts. I have tried to focus on the information I feel could be more accurate than most, but there is really nothing much that adequately covers what I need to know. Psychic ability is not something you can see, or tangibly touch. Science likes to measure things, and you can't really measure Psychic ability. If science can not quantify something along strict linear guidelines, then it simply is not recognized as existing." Heero sighed. He was not really looking for a lecture at this god forsaken hour of the morning. What he wanted was to go back to bed and get some sleep. He ached in body and mind and the thought of blissful oblivion was far more appealing than being lectured on what science credited as existing and what it did not. It was simply not fair that he knew retiring to bed now would leave him lying awake, staring at the shadows playing on the ceiling. "Sorry." Quatre's quiet whisper was barely heard above the snap of the fire. He shrugged, a hand sweeping at his unruly hair. "It's okay. I'm not likely to get to sleep immediately, and neither would you. We have to talk about something while we wait, but please, no lectures." "I'm sorry about the whole thing, and I'll try to keep technical science out of it," Quatre murmured. "So tell me about Trowa." Heero turned a little, relishing the warmth on cold skin, wishing the fire to burn hotter, faster. "Tell me about these dreams, just skip the science until I'm rested enough to deal with it." Quatre produced a quivering smile and sighed, hugging the eiderdown closer. "Why don't you get the other quilt? You make me cold just looking at you." Well that was a wonderful idea, Heero decided. Why was he sitting here, slowly rotating himself like a roast on a spit, when there was a perfectly good eiderdown gong to waste on the bed? It was a matter of a few seconds to scoop up the feathery mass and scoot close to the fire, settling, wrapped in its warm embrace. Quatre smiled before heaving a sigh and inching closer to him, as though he did not want to be alone and the width of the mat constituted a greater gap than it was. "I'm not really sure where it would be best to start, but- I learned during the war that Trowa had nightmares, but then I was having my own too and thought nothing of it at the time. It was not until after we became lovers that I realized there might be something more to Trowa's dreams. There were some dreams that seemed like really shocking ones, when he would be gasping and coughing and choking, sometimes for hours after he woke up. It was as though he could still see and smell the smoke and ash. The worst of the nightmares always featured fire. At first he would not talk to me about them, but I heard enough during the dreams to know what they were about. Sometimes there would be explosions involved, but always there was fire." Heero nodded, snuggling himself deeper into his quickly warming cocoon, tucking his feet in close to him and resting his head on his knees, arms wrapped about his legs. "You asked him about them?" "Not at first, no. I thought it was nightmares, that he was reliving memories of the war and when he was a Mercenary. I had my share of post war dreams, and it seemed only natural he would too." Heero could only agree with that, he had his share of horror dreams reflecting the past. Particularly about the little girl and her dog, that memory regularly haunted his dreams. "Then one night I found him huddling under a set of stairs. He was still asleep, but he was crying and calling out to his mother, coughing and gasping as though he could not breathe well. I thought it just another nightmare, a particularly bad one, and one that would shed a little light on his past. At least, that is what I thought, until I caught a news cast later that same day. There had been a fire in the inner city, and there was a little girl's body found. She was huddled under a set of stairs in the burned out building. The smoke had killed her before the fire and the report made me wonder. Later that day it came over a news cast that the fire was a suspected arson and Trowa was with me, watching the news. He was alright, until they played the footage. I'm not sure what it was about the footage he reacted to, but he went as white as a sheet and practically ran out of the room." Quatre sighed softly and scrubbed at his face, staring into the flames. Heero watched him, noting how drawn and tired he looked and the haunted expression in his eyes. Quatre needed to sleep as much as he, but neither of them was ready to settle. "What did he say?" "He refused to talk about it at the time. It was months later I finally got him to talk, and even then he never said much. He was reluctant, but admitted he recognized the building, though he said only that he had been there at some time. He was not sure when, only that he recognized it. He thought it might have been during the war." "That is fair enough." "Yes, except-" Quatre hesitated. "I think he had never physically been there, Heero. What I read from him was not deception exactly, but- It was enough that I did not believe it was as simple as that. I think he had dreamt of the building and the fire, of being that little girl who died under the stairs. From the time of the dream I would estimate he had the dream a good four hours before it happened." "You took notice of the time?" At Quatre's look Heero sighed, understanding that much should have been obvious. "Why?" "It is something I do, alright? I can't really explain why, but at the time I can remember looking at the clock." Heero shrugged. "Fine. I suppose it made sense at the time, and that you should remember it. I gather it was not the only incident?" "No. I started watching him when he was dreaming, and after a time I could see a pattern taking shape. Most of his dreams were just that, dreams. I learned the 'feel' of the dreams and I could tell what was nightmare from the war by the way he would 'feel' as he reacted to the dream. I think the best way to describe that is I- echoed- his emotions while he dreamt. I echoed the good dreams as well as the bad; sometimes I am not very good at divorcing myself from peoples' emotions." Heero thought that was meant to be an apology, though exactly what Quatre was apologizing to him for he did not know. He continued to watch his companion, trying to understand what he was being told and not to think Quatre was heading toward being a guest at a sanatorium. "Trowa does not dream every night, at least not dreams you could class as nightmares." A blush rode the blonde's cheeks and he did not look at Heero. "He does not always dream of fire and explosions, and those he does dream of do not always translate to an event I can tag as reflecting a dream. It's just sometimes, you know? Sometimes I can 'feel' that the nightmare is different, they reflect differently to my empathy, and I can tag them as precognitive incidents. These instances rarely reflect a domestic size fire. Usually the scale is much larger, involving a reasonable number of people or property damage." "You've not said anything about this before." Quatre sighed softly, rubbing his cheek against the fabric draped across his knees. "No, I am still trying to determine a pattern- or any possible patterns. I don't know yet what triggers the incidents beyond fire, but I would think there would be something else that influences the incident. With so little information out there I can consider being accurate, I decided I needed to document the incidents and investigate them myself." "Trowa lets you?" The fire cracked in a minor explosion of sparks that drifted up the chimney and Quatre straightened his spine, staring into the dancing flames. "He does not like to talk about it, and trying to get information out of him is far from easy, but I am getting better at worming the details out of him. Some days I think it's easier to get blood out of a stone than to get Trowa to talk about his dreams. He has always denied there is anything prophetic about them, calling them nightmares and that is it, leave it alone, Quatre." The blonde smirked. "When I get particularly persistent he tries to turn my attention to other, more pleasant, things. I usually let him, and then go right back to pestering him for details." Heero groaned. "Too much information, Winner." Quatre chuckled. "I have managed to garner some details out of him for the latest dreams he has had over the last year or so. I have taken the incidents back a year before that, though he can not tell me as much detail about them as I would wish. But it is enough for me to trace events by scouring the newspapers and city records where large fires have taken place. Using this method I have been able to tag at least three incidents I feel, with what I would judge as a ninety percent accuracy, relate to his episodes." "Three fires in two years? That is not much." "In regards to precognition that is a reasonable average, given what little information I have to draw on. Because I am working in the dark, I don't want it widely known Trowa might be a clairvoyant, I have to be careful and keep within strict guidelines. I think there are actually five incidences he has linked to, but two have a seventy percent match to the criteria I set down." "I don't know anything about this clairvoyant talent you speak of, except it is supposed to be the province of tea leaf readers." Quatre sighed. "That is what happens when science is unable to accurately measure something and writes it off as questionable. I am learning. From my observations of Trowa's incidents, the fires can happen anywhere from an hour to a month or two after his dream." He really did not understand what Quatre wanted from him. The blonde was too intelligent to be gullible, he had too many resources at his disposal to be easily fooled, and as a strategist he was exemplary. Heero could not simply dismiss his concerns. "Does Trowa agree with you, that what he dreams are not nightmares for the war?" For a moment Quatre listened to the storm battering the Inn, and the quiet pacing beyond the door of a Preventer doing his rounds. They were not alone in the Inn, at any instant they might be called to action and all he wanted to do was sleep. No, he wanted to talk, to really talk with someone about this psychic ability he had and which Trowa might share, though his talent differed. He wanted to talk to someone who could offer- something. Understanding; or at the least, a sympathetic ear. "Not at first, he would not listen to my idea, but I persevered and I've been able to show him evidence of those fires I have tracked down and determined are linked with his dreams. Those fires I feel are the most possible matches I have investigated privately, so I can demonstrate I have not twisted the details. I have discussed the three I feel are definitely fires he dreamed of, and the two I think are possible, but he can be so stubborn sometimes. After tonight- After tonight I am hopeful he will not fight me on this much longer. Something will happen, I don't know where or when, but it will be in the space of the next two months, I think, and I will be looking out for likely fires. If I could convince him to pay better attention to the dreams and to dissecting the details, it is feasible we could stop some of these fires from happening. If we knew in advance how they start and where." "But if you knew where and how, and even why- would that not change the circumstances and disprove, at the least place doubt that the fire would happen in the first place?" Heero sighed, rubbing at his temples. "I'm sorry. I'm not at my brightest at the moment." Quatre smiled. "No, you are right, Heero. I know how confusing it is to deal with the paradox of clairvoyance. If you change circumstances so the fire does not occur, then where is the evidence it would have occurred in the first place? That is why Science hates all things psychic. Trowa dreams of fire and I don't know of one incident where someone has not died in those dreams, and I know it would help him deal with the nightmares if he could use the dreams to stop people suffering. Death by fire is- horrific." Heero arched an eyebrow and Quatre sighed softly. "I am an empath, Heero. Do you have any idea how many men and women I killed during the war? How many children? I blew up colonies." Heero hesitated, wanting to reach out to the blonde but deciding against it. There seemed to be a wall between them, one he had not placed there, and he waited, watching as the firelight played over the strained features. It was a few minutes before Quatre stirred. "I'm sorry. It is something I have to deal with from time to time. With clairvoyance when events are altered there is no proof anything would have happened if we had stood back and allowed events to take place. Clairvoyance is not a clear cut skill, anymore than empathy is without a cost. Clairvoyance is a two edged sword, but I believe it is real, as real as the empathy I have. If you follow the dream and determine to change the event to avoid certain consequences, then you open yourself up to the fruitcake category. You can not prove what would have happened if you did not take action. It is enough to drive you insane thinking about the what if." Heero scowled, turning his head to glower into the fire, suddenly unwilling to watch Quatre. He could hear the old man's voice from earlier in the morning, soon after their arrival at the Inn. He could hear him talking about the Peacecraft family and the psychic gifts, the 'magic' the family were marked by. "You stand by your assessment about Trowa?" "Yes. I believe I am correct, he is a Clairvoyant." He nodded slowly. "So when you were riveted to what the old man was saying earlier- about the Peacecraft family- His comment Zechs would be- is- a Clairvoyant- " Quatre sighed. Heero had brought them to delicate ground. Quatre was not sure he wanted to go there, but it was a reflection of what Trowa had endured. If he credited Trowa's ability, how could he deny the ability of another? "Yes." "If he was born like that, able to- what; see the future? If he could do that, why would he have done what he did? Why Libra?" Quatre flinched. There it was, the question he did not want to ask. The question he did not want to face. He had been trying to avoid thinking about that since the old Innkeeper had mentioned the Peacecraft 'magic'. Given his experiences with Trowa he could not dismiss the possibility of psychic abilities in others. "We do not have actual proof of any ability he might possess." Quatre opted to be cautious, not denying the possibility, but not stating categorically the Peacecraft heir might have been influenced somehow by such a talent. For a time both stared moodily into the fire, each waiting for the other to speak, neither wanting to be the first to comment. Each was hoping the other would change the subject from the uncomfortable possibility Milliardo Peacecraft was not just another madman. The silence was becoming uncomfortable and Heero sighed heavily into it. "He was always an odd one." Heero rubbed at his jaw, considering the man he had known, perhaps best described as his best enemy. He really knew nothing about Milliardo Peacecraft, or Zechs Marquise. He knew the man's military record, some few facts and plenty of supposition on the childhood of the Prince who had become Zechs Marquise. What he knew about the man was barely enough to fill a thimble. Quatre deflated a little into his warm cocoon. He had hoped Heero would find some other subject, but that was the coward's way out, and if he wanted to learn about psychic phenomena, he had to face what might prove to be an uncomfortable truth. "Yes, he was." Drawing a deeper breath he calmed himself, fending off Heero's emotions reflecting his discomfort with the subject. "If he did possess that sort of ability, Clairvoyance- If he could see the future, what would have possessed him to do what he did? Why would he take part in the war under Oz, and then compound the mistake by joining White Fang?" Quatre shuddered, feeling the clawing unease in Heero. Heero was aware he was making Quatre uncomfortable; he knew enough about the other's empathy to know he should try to contain his emotions. Visibly looking unemotional was not the problem, not when you were dealing with Quatre's sensitivities. The former pilot of Wing Zero had an idea he was not ready to face, but that was alright. He was fairly sure Quatre would have thought of it by now and was probably just as unwilling to voice it as he. How long could they play around the uncomfortable possibility? Avoiding voicing it would not make it go away. It was stupid. "He might not have cared, wanting just to end it all." Quatre murmured. It seemed Quatre did not want to be the one to float the idea. If they did not talk about something else they would simply play around with nothing; and neither of them would get any sleep. Something weighed on him, and he had the uncomfortable feeling if he did not talk about it there would be no sleep. It would just sit there, hovering in his head, annoying the hell out of him. Some things had to be faced. Some things had to be said. Heero passed a shaking hand over his eyes. "Or he might have wanted to change something more terrible." It was out and already Heero could feel an easing of pressure. It was a relief to actually say it, to acknowledge the thought and bring it out into the open. "I- Yes. I suppose that is possible," Quatre whispered. Heero rested his chin on his raised knees, staring into the dancing flames, seeing another time and another place, a small room and against the familiar backdrop of the Earth, the white hair and piercing blue eyes of the leader of the White Fang. "He asked me to join him, when we were on Libra." He heard Quatre's sharply drawn breath. "I always wondered about that. About why he would think to ask me. I suppose it was coincidence, but I thought there was something different about him. Different- He was, you know, different to what he was when we had fought before. Something very different to the last time I saw him, when I gave him the Epyon and took Zero." Quatre's blue eyes hardened, flashing to Heero with a considering gleam in them. "Epyon." Not many things visibly affected the Perfect Soldier, but he shivered lightly at the name. It was a name that caused a deep chill within him, a name he preferred to avoid, as he preferred to avoid all thought of the evil machine. Why had he brought the subject up? He preferred not to think about it, but it was he who had raised the spectre. "Epyon lied. I told him that once, near the end. I told him Epyon lied. He chose a future Epyon showed him, and it was a terrible future. Something terrible. I did not understand what he thought he could do at the time." "What did Epyon show you, Heero?" Quatre was inclining toward Heero, looking intent, purposeful. His reservation seemed to have faded, and he focused solely on his companion. Heero could feel his eyes, even though he refused to turn to look at the blonde. The flames were dancing, crimson and gold. Crimson, like the hull of the monster. "Heero! Snap out of it." Quatre's voice snapped him back from the visions of glowing eyes and demonic splendour. Blue eyes met lighter blue. "What? What did-?" He drew a shuddering breath. "I hate talking about that suit." "Never the less, we will talk about it." Quatre would not be denied. "Tell me about Epyon." "It- was different. Really different. When I gave the suit to Zechs I told him I did not understand how Kushrenada thought." Quatre arched an eyebrow, his back straightening. He looked confused and Heero could understand that. He was confused too. "Why would not understanding how Treize Kushrenada thought affect the way you flew Epyon?" Heero rubbed his chin against his knees, hugging his lower legs, fingers locked tight about his ankles. It hurt, but the pain was welcome. It was so different to Zero." He did not understand why he was whispering, but Quatre seemed to hear him well enough. "It was full of lies; full of pictures of people and places I had never seen. It showed me terrible things. Things that were impossible and it wanted something from me. It wanted- It- I could not do it. I could not do what it wanted." Quatre recognized the symptoms. It was like those interviews when he was attempting to get information out of Trowa on one of his 'incidents', and he chose to give Heero a few minutes to gather his thoughts. He could feel Heero wanted to talk, needed to talk, and he had the uncomfortable feeling they were on the verge of learning something important. When his empathy detected the restlessness growing, he knew Heero needed to be encouraged to speak. Subconsciously he was being driven to air something he had held onto for a long time. "What did it, the Epyon, want you to do?" "I saw Treize and people I did not know. I saw her, Relena but she was only a ghost. I saw- I saw war and I knew everyone was my enemy. Everyone was going to kill until they were killed. Everyone was the enemy and- and HE was there." "Who is HE?" Quatre questioned softly, his voice falling into a low murmur, coaxing, seeking details. The voice he used to sooth Trowa and gather information when Trowa was fresh from a dream state. "Zechs- and Milliardo- they were both there. Kushrenada kept appearing and He, They, both Zechs and Milliardo were there. One of them- One- " Quatre waited, watching. He could feel a tightness in Heero, pregnant, building to bursting point, but should he prod? He could feel Heero resisting it, wanting to avoid whatever was demanding release. After a long silence, hoping Heero would do himself a favour and volunteer the information, Quatre decided if he wanted the information he was going to have to go after it. "One of who? Who was it you are thinking about?" "Kushrenada- Marquise- and Peacecraft. One of them. It had to be one of them." "One of them was going to have to do what?" Heero closed his eyes, burying his head in the eiderdown. He shuddered, the cold feel of the machine seemed to surround him and he hated it. It was foreign, frightening, so unlike anything else he had ever experienced. "Choose." Heero whispered. "Die." t.b.c.
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