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" Everywhere I Look "Written By: Presser
Disclaimer : I do not own Gundam Wing or its characters. This work of fiction is written and shared freely without any attempt to profit financially from it. Rating : R Pairings : 1x2 Warnings : Wistful romance, AU, after Endless Waltz, and departing quite a bit from canon direction Summary: Duo Maxwell is a young, upcoming artist with a hole in his heart. He hates himself for never confessing his love to Heero Yuy, a war-weary mecha pilot running from his past all the way to the Phobos Project—the first manned mission to Mars. Duo longs for the man he loves, but doesn’t know where he is. Can they find love in each other’s arms? And what of Heero’s mysterious collapse when he arrives on Earth to search for the one he loves?
"Everywhere I Look " Chapter 10 Heero stepped into an atmosphere much thicker and sunlight much brighter than he remembered from his time on Earth. "I made it to the Earth," he whispered, the words triggered by a memory rush. The first time he said them was at the beginning of Operation Meteor, moments before blowing Zechs Marquise out of the air, moments before he crash-landed because of the damage he took from the OZ lieutenant. I'd been on my first real mission for less than two days, and already nothing was what I thought it would be. I lost my Gundam, for gods' sake--or thought I had. Even though Dr. J.--Mr. Sarin-- His memories were shut down by the image of the scientist from moments before, standing at the foot of the shuttle's stairs in his pinstriped suit, close-cropped gray hair surrounding his head like an aura in the bright sunlight, his silvery eyes creepier than his goggles had ever been. Heero shielded his eyes with a hand as he squinted into the sky. He looked down immediately. He rubbed the back of his neck and took a deep breath, surprised at the effort required. My eyes still hurt. And my feet, too. It's like they've grown a size since I got on the shuttle, even though I loosened my shoe laces. He shook his head, trying to clear it of all the thinking he had done since the moment he saw Duo interviewed about his art. *Seven months. No, eight-and-a-half, maybe nine. Doesn't matter, though. I'm here now. And I know what I need to do.* He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small plastic box. He held it firmly with two fingers on the sides and thumbed open the catch. The lid sprang back to reveal three pills. "These will help with your acclimation," Sarin had said. "It can be a bitch. Even though you've followed the prescribed daily exercise routines, it still isn't the same as having to walk through this soup of an atmosphere over uneven surfaces." Sarin told him it was like the difference between working out on a treadmill and running on city streets. "Different muscles? Not so much. But they behave differently at sea level than they do on Luna or a spacecraft." Heero stared at the three pills. Why would he carry these? Does he spend that much time on Luna? He took another breath, this one harder to draw than before. After a long moment he took one, popped it into his mouth, and dry-swallowed it. He glanced up at the sun again, squinting against the brightness. He stepped to the curb in front of the spaceport's baggage claim carousels. Soup of an atmosphere" is right. It's like my lungs are sponges trying to soak up heavy cream. He hailed a cab. One pulled up immediately. The driver popped open the trunk, hopped out, and circled the rear of the car. "This all?" he said, nodding toward the two bags at Heero's feet. "Yes." He watched the cabbie lift his suitcases into the taxi's trunk and slam the lid. As the driver walked back to his door, Heero's vision blurred. He raised his hands to rub his eyes again. He tottered forward, fell against the cab, and slumped to the concrete in a dead faint. ~ * ~
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