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"A World In A Grain Of Sand"Written By: Keiran Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or its characters...
Shame about that. Pairings: 1+2, minor 4x5x4 and odd het pairing
(that’s a surprise ^_^) Rating: … I always have a problem with that.
Maybe PG-13, for the mental pictures, moving to R possibly as this
progresses. The author needs to get a good line to express her thanks to Sundaire, for putting up with her creepy use of commas and other mishaps. The author is very happy to have such a good beta. "A World In A Grain Of Sand"
The summer continued to be one of the driest in living
memory. The crops grew healthily, continuously nurtured by the rich
soil, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that the following
year would not be a particularly good one. Fortunately, the threat
of a drought did not haunt the minds of the people as yet; nevertheless,
the elders declared that caution must be exercised regarding the consumption
of water. Heero barely noticed, both because due to his position,
no one would dare to remind him, unless the situation was dire indeed,
but chiefly due to the fact that as a soldier he was used to rationed
provisions. Watching what he ate was almost a habit to him. Not having many duties, he made a point of visiting
the temple frequently. Little Sally seemed to positively glow every
time she saw him, and Duo, somehow, seemed so confused most of the
time, that he welcomed the pillar of strength gratefully, all the
time maintaining the carefully erected barriers between them. Heero,
even though he prided himself on patience, often found himself frustrated
beyond belief. The situation was simply unreal he mused frequently.
The thrill of having to chase his prize had already worn off, leaving
him surprisingly not resigned, but determined to wait, even if waiting
was to take a lifetime. What really got to him, however, was the dual
nature of his quarry. Duo was warm and kind towards everyone, never
losing his smile – never, unless he was facing Heero. It seemed
so strange, watching the healer comfort children and parents alike,
seeming for all intents and purposes as if he were one of their own,
yet freezing out the one person who was in fact closer to him than
anyone else on Earth. Heero sighed heavily. He was far from being discouraged
– if anything his resolve seemed to be stronger than ever –
but he would have been glad if the results of his efforts were more
tangible than an occasional goodnight kiss. His sigh was chased away
soon enough – like most matters regarding Duo, the frustration
and annoyance mixed with elation and warmth, creating a bittersweet
mixture he never knew before. “Heero,” the general heard suddenly. Turning
his head, he acknowledged the presence of his healer, surprisingly
free of his omnipresent white robe. Inclining his head in greeting,
he gestured to the horses grazing nearby. “It’s good to see you,” he answered,
leaning forward to nuzzle his face against the sun-warmed hair. Without
further ado, the two slipped into a comfortable silence, which, as
Heero noted, only seem to surround Duo when he was either completely
alone or accompanied by him. Hoisting himself onto Wing’s back with hard-earned
ease, Heero tugged the reins, directing the animal towards the road,
speeding up into a brisk trot, once Deathscythe, with Duo on his back,
fell into the familiar position at his side. With little words spoken
the general and the healer turned into the narrow way between golden
fields, intent on enjoying the summer sun. xxxXXXxxx Precariously balancing a bucket of water on his shoulder,
Heero grabbed another with his free hand, saving a little boy from
a certain painful fall. Motioning for the child to follow, he ran
the several paces necessary to pass the buckets into the hands of
the nearest villager, who immediately sent it further on through the
chain. The whole village, small as it was, gathered, helping to put
out the fire that had started in one of the houses and managed to
spread to at least three others and a barn before it was brought under
control. By the time Heero got to the scene, the peasants managed
to stop the flames from spreading throughout all of their homes, leaving
only the barn to be put out. The task, seemingly so simple, nevertheless
proved to be heart-wrenching for many: the day before fresh grass
had been cut and stacked high in the wooden building, a lot of the
village children had chosen to spend the evening and night playing
on mounds of hay. Unsurprisingly, the high temperatures and not enough
rain in the recent days made everything dry – Heero strongly
suspected it took merely one spark to start the disaster. To make
matters even worse, this summer, though low on water, would bring
many children to local populace; most of the healers were absent from
the temple, having set off to villages several hours brisk march away.
The temple, which housed little more than two dozen usually for as
long as Heero could remember, was now very nearly devoid of adult
healers. Now, this late at night, it was doubtful many of them returned. Pushing the grim thoughts out of his mind, Heero gritted
his teeth and, as soon as the fire died down to acceptable levels,
smashed the doors of the barn and got in, looking for those of the
little ones who hadn’t managed to escape when the fire broke
out. Seeing the heavy log blocking the door though, he cursed to himself.
His worst fears were realised soon enough – there were small
bodies littering the floor, so many of them unmoving… Shaking himself harshly, Heero kneeled next to the nearest
one, checking for a pulse. Finding none, he swallowed heavily, recognising
the remains of telltale red hair. Offering a short prayer for the
little boy, he moved on to the next. The village worked relentlessly, two more men following
the general into the still-smoking ruins of the barn, carrying out
the injured children. At first there seemed to be so many of them,
yet, as Heero soon realised, a little to his relief, that things appeared
to be far worse than they actually were. More than a half of the children
had managed to escape before the log had fallen and made it to the
nearby pond, like they'd been taught to in case of a fire. The little
redhead was one of two who died in the barn – about ten were
still alive, though wounded. Carrying the second – and thankfully last –
corpse from the ruins, Heero was greatly relieved to notice the familiar
chestnut braid resting against a white robe. The healers had arrived.
Everything would be fine now, he thought, though a sad expression
entered his eyes as he gazed at the badly burned girl in his arms.
At that very moment a woman ran to him, a wail escaping her lips as
she realised who was in the noble’s arms. Taking her daughter
from Heero, she hugged her close to her chest, sinking to the ground,
wracked by sobs. The man stared at her haplessly for a few moments,
before walking off, allowing the mother her grief. “Is there anything you need?” he asked, kneeling
beside Duo who was busy tending to one of the smaller children. The
long-haired man turned to him, looking for injuries. Finding none,
a soft glow of relief entered his eyes as he shook his head, returning
his attention to the little boy in front of him. Working quickly,
he went through the motions Heero had seen countless times on a battlefield;
rinse the cloth, wash the skin, apply a mixture of herbs, or bread
with cobweb, depending what was in supply, bind the wound. Under a
skilled hand dressing a wound was the work of but a moment, yet it
often decided whether the patient would live to see another day. Having
fished tying the wrappings, Duo would smile and offer a few kind words
to the peasants before moving on to treat another of the wounded,
Heero following, assisting wherever he could. With only three healers
around, no one could afford to waste any time on idle pleasantries.
Walking from one person to another, his robes losing any pretence
of whiteness, Duo barely exchanged a word with Heero, focusing on
performing his duties instead. His violet eyes, however, spoke volumes
when occasionally the general’s managed to catch them. Duo was
glad for the subtle comfort his presence offered. The blue eyed man, though he had been a soldier for
most of his life, had seen only so many injuries. The position of
the great general called for his presence in the head quarters far
more often than in the infirmary, leaving him with only the briefest
and most basic knowledge of healing. When his healer stopped by yet
another body, he barely managed to stop a dismayed groan from escaping. Heero had difficulty telling if it was a boy or a girl
– their clothes, their hair was burned almost to the skin. The
poor thing could do little more than whimper in pain as Duo’s
bloodied hand carefully ran across its brow. Across from the healer
knelt a woman, apparently the child’s mother. She didn’t
cry, her eyes seemed empty. She had little hope left. Heero was ready
to say something to comfort her, when to his utter astonishment, Duo
spoke first. “I am so sorry…” he said very softly.
“I can do nothing to help her. Please, forgive me.” With
a final caress to the bloodied face, the young healer got up and quickly
made his way to the next child, leaving the stupefied general with
the stricken woman, cradling her dying daughter to her chest, heavy
tears rolling down her face. He moved not an inch for several long moments, staring
after the slender figure as it waded in between the groups of people,
his expression that of complete disbelief. He couldn’t understand
what had happen, what could have happened. How was that possible? With great difficulty and understanding that now was
not the time to demand explanations, he managed to snap himself from
the trance and stumble towards a group of men looking to help with
their enterprise while the healers did – or did not do –
their job, he thought bitterly. Mechanically he grabbed an axe and
went through the motions of chopping down the still-standing logs
keeping the ruined barn together. It would have to be rebuilt from
scratch, he realised. Long after the sun rose, Heero finally got back into
his luxurious bedroom and fell onto the soft mattress, sinking into
the fresh linen. His mind would keep replaying the scene of Duo walking
away from a suffering child. How could he do that? Him, a healer.
Leave a child to die, a child who was whimpering in pain, no longer
strong enough to even cry. His mind heavy with turmoil, Heero slept. xxxXXXxxx Two days had passed in relative peace after the happenings
in the village. Upon the news most of the healers had returned, easing
the burden on the few that had been present during the fire, looking
after the injured. Duo slowly collected the pieces of himself, trying
to put his mind off the tragedies he had witnessed not two mornings
before. Busying his hands with menial work, he sought solitude, trying
to repair the hurt he knew he would be feeling for a long time to
come. The space the other healers granted him to recover however,
was invaded curtly by the grim presence of the great general, uncharacteristically
in a bout of cold fury as Duo had never before seen him. “How could you do that?!” Heero hissed, staring
straight into the violet eyes. “It was just a little girl. How
could you let her die?” Somehow, his voice managed to stay even
and unemotional, even though his eyes were charged with fury. “I couldn’t have helped her,” Duo replied
softly, averting his gaze. “You lie!” Heero said with a deliberate slowness.
“I have seen injuries worse than hers being treated, I have seen
the people live through it.” “I couldn’t have helped her,” the healer
said again, tonelessly. The general kneeled in front of him and gripped
his tunic. “Look into my face and tell me her injuries were
too extensive, too difficult for you to treat. Tell me that, and I
will believe you,” he implored, turning Duo’s face towards
his own. A grave silence descended upon the two of them. Finally,
Duo looked away. “No. Her injuries were severe, but not fatal,”
he answered, his tone wooden. Heero let the thick fabric of the healer’s
robe slide from his fingers as he sagged down, staring at the long-haired
figure in disbelief. “Why?” he croaked finally. “You let her
die. Why?” The violet-eyed man stood up and gazed down at the general
sadly. “I’m sorry, Heero,” he whispered, exercising
his control to the extremes. He wanted to shed no tears in front of
the general now. “It seems I am not the person you want after
all.” Turning with visible effort, Duo slowly walked back to
the temple, never looking back. ~ * ~ |
