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"Friends "Written By: Karina
Series: Friends Pairings: 2+6 Ratings: M 15+ [In Australia] Rated in the event of bad language and violence. Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing or the characters. That’s the way it is. Warnings: Not a death fic despite how it starts.
Aussie spelling and unbetaed. Summary: When Milliardo Peacecraft is abducted
and left to die a solitary death Duo Maxwell decides to take a hand
in the proceedings.
Chapter 44 Marquise had said little through the night in their presence and Duo was notably quiet. With Maxwell so uncharacteristically silent Heero found his hackles up, his nerves on edge and a deepening sense of discomfort feeding his suspicious glances towards the doorway against which Wu Fei sat. Trowa sat closest to Maxwell, silent as was his want until spoken to. Nothing unusual about that, though Heero did not miss Trowa’s small glances between Duo and the tent where Marquise watched all from his shadows. Chang sat between himself and Trowa, surly, glowering and characteristically out of sorts. He was an odd one, Chang Wu Fei, pretty much a law unto himself on a mission, but then they who shared the common past of having piloted a Gundam were all ‘something different.’ In that category he had to include Zechs Marquise. They were a unique group, the elite mobile suit pilots of their day. There were others out there, of course, top pilots who survived the war and struggled as best they could to make their way through this new world of peace. Marquise had held his own against the Gundams, whether he was flying a Leo or that antiquated forerunner of mobile suits, Tallgeese, or the demonic Gundam Epyon. Heero payed honour where it was due and he would not deny Marquise could hold his own against a Gundam pilot and, it appeared, he was just as capable of becoming friends with one. Duo certainly seemed hyper aware of any small sounds of movement that came from the shadowed tent. The man lying in there was Relena’s brother, but the siblings were estranged, barely speaking to each other since Zechs had departed for Mars. He had not known what to expect from the brother and sister, after all Zechs was technically the Crown Prince of Sanc and should be King. Relena ruled as Princess, though Sanc was a constitutional monarchy and as such was rather archaic in this modern time. Sanc was a part of the one nation that was the Earth, though borders were still on the map and countries were still identified as they had been for hundreds of years. Where was the sense in that arrangement? Heero admitted to himself that he could not see the current system working in the long term. Eventually the tottering deck of cards they were building would tumble. Someone would make a fatal slip and the whole deck, so precariously balanced, would fall. Who then, he mused, would gather up the cards and make something new? Earth was a political power house in a state of constant flux. There were too many factions intent on interfering with each other and hindering advancements. Parties and factions changed their allegiances the way he changed his socks. Conspiracies abounded on Earth and in the Colonies political structure as well, and it seemed to him Relena was always attending to some crisis or other. She had little time to wonder about a brother who seemed to care little for her. How much of that was fact on Marquise’s part and how much of it was deception by design? Heero was not a trusting soul and he wanted to talk to Zechs, to sound him out on what he thought of his sister and learn what he had been doing since his return from Mars. Relena had had hopes of getting to know her brother, of them perhaps becoming a family and it had not taken long for Milliardo to destroy her dreams of a family. Relena was angry and at the moment Heero was uncertain if she wanted to do more than hang, draw and quarter her sibling. It was, of course, because of Noin. Relena liked Lucrezia Noin and had entertained dreams of having her for an older sister, so certain had she been that Zechs would marry the woman. Relena had not taken well to the destruction of her comfortable family dream. Noin was, in Heero’s opinion, a mess since their breakup and he would like to have known what had been said between the dark haired firebrand and the Prince of Sanc. He had heard enough of Noin’s rants in the last two years to know there was more to know about the story and he was heartily tired of hearing what a cold hearted bastard the ‘Prince of Pricks’ was in Lucrezia Noin’s opinion. The woman had a vicious tongue when her ire was raised and Marquise appeared to excel at stirring her up, even when absent from her life. On learning of their breakup Relena had had a few choice words to say about her brother breaking the woman’s heart and dashing her hopes of calling Noin ‘sister’. Through all of the fireworks there had been, remarkably in Heero’s opinion, no comment from Zechs. The man had remained stoically silent when Relena had demanded answers and since had become conspicuous by his absence. No doubt he preferred the peaceful life and avoiding the women in his life afforded him that at least. Having survived the initial fireworks and now survivor of the long episodes of icy silence, cold anger and frigid glares whenever Marquise chanced to be mentioned, Heero had stood on the side lines and wondered why any of them were still alive and what had their best efforts been for? It certainly did not appear to be to find love and settle down to start a family. They, all of them, the Gundam pilots and those who had played major parts in the war, seemed to make nothing but an ongoing mess of their lives. He was interested in this man’s sister and what did he really know about the man who wore the name Zechs Marquise? Other than he preferred to be Zechs, that much was obvious; and having a window seat into Relena’s life Heero could not say he blamed Zechs for choosing not to be Milliardo. The life of royalty was not an easy one and yet it was into that exclusive world of position, prestige and utter lack of privacy that Heero verged on entering. He wanted Relena. He wanted to be with her beyond the strict divisions of a bodyguard, or even being her head of security. He wanted far more than his work permitted him and to have her he acknowledged he needed to pay a price. The price of giving up his freedom and submitting himself to the goldfish bowl she lived in. He would have to be the one being guarded, not be the one doing the guarding. He was well aware it would not be an easy role reversal, but he acknowledged the truth that if he wanted the feisty woman who was changing the world on a daily basis, then it was a fate he could not avoid. Heero Yuy had to become a part of her world, or step back from her and let her move on. Much as Zechs Marquise had decided and accordingly stepped away from Noin. For her own good. But why had he made the decision? Heero was no fool, and he was certainly not blinded by love or anger. He had not taken long to evaluate the relationship and equate Zechs and Noin to his own situation with Relena. It had not taken him long to come up with a viable explanation of the man’s actions, which the female of the species appeared to ignore in favour of lambasting Zechs. Given the man’s past Heero could understand why Zechs had seemingly abandoned Noin, stepping away from her and forcing her to give up on following him. Marquise was not afraid of making hard decisions and living with the consequences regardless of what they might be. For whatever reason drove him, Marquise had done it, cut the strings that bound him to Noin and he had succeeded. Lucrezia Noin gave every appearance of hating him, though in the depths of her anger Heero suspected there was a great deal of love driving her anger and hate. Surely only love could give rise to such vehemence? He had learned a great deal of emotion and how to suppress it under the not so gentle tutelage of Dr. J. He preferred not to think of the training he had endured; training which was crumbling beneath the onslaught of a pair of sparkling blue eyes. Forcing himself back to the present Heero watched as Chang set his mug by the hearth, turning his hands to gather in the warmth; product of all of Maxwell’s labours in getting the fire started. It was surprisingly warm in the tiny room, despite the door being open, and personally he was thankful they had the chance to get warm and have hot soup before they retired. His own mug was almost empty and cooling rapidly. How they had all squashed themselves into this space he did not know, but even their combined body heat made little difference to the overall comfort of the air. It was warm while they huddled so closely around the flames but when they returned to the other room they would freeze. The wind still howled beyond the tent, the storm, though lessening in ferocity, still covering the mountains with killing force. It would have been an uncomfortable night had they pitched tents and waited the night at the helicopter. He noted movement within the tent and his attention focused back on Marquise. Something was wrong with the picture he had expected to find of the man in there. Something bothered him and he could not quite put his finger on it. He nursed his cooling soup, paying little attention to the quiet conversation around the fire, of which Marquise took no part in, and watched the shadows in the tent. Something was off… something… He mastered the urge to stiffen as realization hit him. He watched as the man raised the cup to his lips, pale hair a glimmer in the darkness, a crack of the fire punctuating a flare in the light as the fire danced in a draft and showed him the silver glimmer of pale blonde hair and a raised, bandaged arm. The man was raising the cup to his lips with his bandaged hand and he was showing no discomfort. Eyes narrowed, Heero flicked a glance around the group. It appeared he was the only one watching the Prince of Sanc in his nest of shadows. He was the only one to have noticed what Marquise was doing and realise what was wrong. Given the injuries he had noted on the video Duo had shown them of Marquise’s condition on his arrival, Heero would have expected the man to be flat on his back and almost incapable of movement. He had been formulating plans to make a stretcher out of saplings and blankets in order to move Marquise in the light of day, not an easy walk to the helicopter given the man’s greater height and weight. Something was very wrong if Marquise was using that arm so freely. Of course all that blood might have made the wounds look more severe than they actually were, but Heero had allowed for that. Maxwell had briefed them on the treatment he had given and, now that he thought about it, nothing had been said about frostbite being a problem. Either Marquise had not been languishing in the cabin for more than a few minutes before Maxwell’s arrival, or something was… He wished the lighting in the tent was a little higher, just enough so he could be certain beyond a shadow of a doubt what it was he saw, but he was fairly certain. Marquise was not as seriously injured as he should be, given the evidence of the video. Duo had been thorough when he had recorded the crime scene and Heero had seen enough to judge the extent of those injuries. How could the man function so well? He moved his hand and arm as though there was no discomfort at all, almost as though there was no injury, or it had been healing for a week or more. No one healed that rapidly… unless… Dr. J had not been the only one with access to advanced cybernetics. No, not cybernetics. No one would dare implant the old aristocracy of Europe with cybernetics. Cybernetics would account for advanced strength and speed, physical enhancements Heero himself had undergone, and while strong Zechs had never demonstrated anything which had led him to believe the man had been modified. Not cybernetics, but perhaps the infinitely more complex cybergenetics? //Did Oz modify him? There was nothing in his medical records to suggest modification… Classified? What the hell is going on?// He could feel eyes on him and dragged his gaze away from the tent, finding himself beneath the scrutiny of a pair of intense violet blue orbs.
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