"A War Worth Fighting"

Written By: SkyLark

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Gundman Wing, or its characters. I just love playing with them.

Pairings: Eventual 1x2

Warnings: Swearing, angst, violence, angst, torture, did I mention angst?

Betaed by ShenLong Deb *hugs*

Archives: http://www.gundam-wing-diaries.150m.com/gw/SkyLark/gwSkyLark.htm and
http://www.mizunoamy.bravepages.com/skylark/skylarkfics.html

Rating: R

Summary: Duo is fighting in the second World War when he's captured by the enemy.

To view the pic by shiyasim that inspired this fic; click HERE

"A War Worth Fighting"

"Incoming!"

At the shrill cry, Trowa and the rest of his unit drove to the ground. Covering their heads just before a large explosion erupted a few feet away, they were rained on by clots of dirt, grass and roots. The moment that all seemed clear, the infantry jumped to their feet and charged further down the hill.

Taking the cover of the thick trees around, the Puerto Ricans fired a few rounds here and there. Still, their attackers continued to near. Down the bottom of the hill where the fight was taking place, the Germans could be seen hopping from tree trunk to tree trunk as they inched closer and closer.

Frustrated as he panted for air, Trowa adjusted his helmet and gritted, "These bastards just don't know when to quit." Looking up the tree that he was currently taking refuge under, he found a patch of thick branches clustered together with its evergreens shielding them.

Over the gunfire from both sides of the fight, the tall Latin shouted to his closest comrade, "Juan!" From behind his own tree, his good friend turned his head to find his friend. With a nervous smile, he nodded firmly that he had his attention. Pointing up, Trowa yelled in their native language, "Watch my back!"

Not needing further explanation, Juan nodded once more. Brown eyes narrowed in determination, he spun around his tree to fire several rounds upon their ever nearing foes. It was enough to have the attention turned in his direction as the German guns took their new aim.

Removing every weapon he had spare, but his sniper rifle that he strapped tightly on, Trowa leapt up to take hold of a low branch.

Carefully, with bullets whistling just past his head as he moved, he scaled his way up until he reached the thick packet of branches about forty feet from the ground. Lying on his stomach as he freed his rifle, his green uniform blended with the evergreens for a perfect cover.

Once his gun was stretched out before him, Trowa closed his emerald left eye as the right peered through his scope. This was his specialty. This is what made him stand out amongst his fellow men… his sniping ability. It required all of the most domineering traits- quiet, patience and steadiness- even under fire.

Completely clearing his mind, the Latin soldier aimed at the head of a German who took too much time firing before taking cover. A shot to the head brought him down easily.

The second fell just as easily as he ran for another tree.

From that point on, the sniper cleared away everything around him. Time no longer mattered. Numbers no longer mattered. All that mattered was taking out as many of his deadly opponents as he could. How many men that meant he had to kill was not a concern, so long as they were no longer a threat.

Before long, the hills were silent once more when the few remaining Nazis ran off and out of sight. Cheering, the 65th Infantry came out of hiding with their guns raised high. Slowly pulling his head away from the perch of his rifle, Trowa smirked in satisfaction.

There would be time to really think over what had happened… later. For now, it was time to just appreciate the fact that he and his friends were still alive.

Yet another close call averted.

Strapping his weapon back over his shoulder, the tall young man climbed back down to where his friends were waiting to slap him on the back and congratulate him. Little victories like this made all the difference to the Puerto Rican army. While they were not the most monumental of battles, their role was still no less important in securing the peace.

Just as they had always wanted, they were proving their worth in the war. Their great country would not be forgotten for their efforts.

Germany certainly would not forget the day that Puerto Rico helped run them from the Maritime Alps. With any luck, the 65th Infantry would be able to personally pay their respects with a visit to Hitler's own stomping grounds.

* * * *

As the sun began to move below the horizon, so the infantry prepared to settle down for the night. Finding a clearing in the thick foliage not far off, they made camp and prepared their suppers. Around their little campfires, the men sat together to talk and laugh about their latest skirmish.

It was during this time that Trowa really reflected on the things that he had seen and done. This particular night, he thought of the men whom he'd killed. Such a thing was normally dangerous for a soldier, but to completely shut out such considerations would make a person less human.

Seated a few feet away from the rest of the infantry, the sniper closed his emerald eyes and leaned his head back on the tree he leaned against. He said a silent prayer for the fallen men. He prayed for forgiveness from the Almighty for his atrocities. And he prayed that he was still doing the right thing.

"You know…so much thinking could get you in trouble," a familiar voice called.

When Trowa opened his eyes, he smiled to his friend Juan as he sat beside him. Shrugging, he replied, "Thinking is the only thing that keeps me sane."

His emerald eyes peered over to his comrade while he commented, "I honestly don't know how you go through a day like today and sleep as well as you do without a second thought."

Juan waved his hand and smirked, "I will have plenty of time to think when this damned war is over and I am back home." Stretching his arms over his head, he added, "Once I have had a chance to actually meet my son that was born last month, then I will have some time to think back on all of this. Until then, I am just going through the motions."

Gently patting his 'brother' on the shoulder, the private warned lightly, "If you must keep this up, just be certain to not let things get to you too much. The fighting is far from over and the last thing you need is something hanging over your head that keeps you from doing what you must to survive out here."

Nodding, Trowa reassured, "Don't worry. I will be sure to not let that happen." Satisfied with that, Juan looked up to the heavens as a companionable silence fell on them.

Breaking the quiet, the private stated, "You never did mention to anyone what your plans are after the war when we get to head back home."

At that, the sniper kept his own eyes on the stars peeking through the leaves high overhead. "Of all of the things that I think about out here, that is one thing that has never crossed my mind," he said quietly.

"No one really knows what will happen between now and then, so I never gave much thought to it. Catherine has been running the business well on her own. If I never do make it back there, she would be able to handle herself just fine."

He took a moment to think over his own words, 'if I never do make it back.' It was the reality of knowing he could be killed that kept him from thinking of what would happen at the end of the war. He never allowed himself to recall how much he missed the hills and green fields of his family estate, nor how much he longed to talk with his sister.

Those things may never come around to be enjoyed again. Just as a soldier had to be careful about dwelling over their killings, so did they need to be realistic enough to keep their hopes of returning home from becoming too high.

In the end, the only certainty of war was that there was no certainty.

Juan slapped his comrade on the back and suggested, "Enough of this moping around. You have had your time to think. Let's get back to the others and enjoy some of the ale Hernandez snuck in."

Unable to argue his need to clear his mind at last, Trowa just smiled and shook his head in amusement with a quiet, "All right." Rising to his feet along with Juan, he allowed himself to be lead back to the rest of their infantry.

His friend was right. The time for thinking was over.

At least now he was certain to have a good night's rest.

* * * *

"Get up," a familiar voice growled in Japanese.

Instantly becoming alert from his drug-induced sleep, Duo looked around only to see black, thanks to the blindfold that continued to cover his eyes.

A hand gripped his arm and he allowed himself to be removed from the car while acting as though he had no idea what was going on. Sure to keep his head looking this way to feign fear, his instincts kicked in to pick up on only two pairs of feet falling aside from his own. One pair, he knew, belonged to Heero. And the second pair he soon placed as the Sergeant Major's when the old man announced, "Welcome to your new home, Yuy."

The sound of a door opening reached the private's ears along with the soft rustling of shoes being removed. Even though the facility was not an official home, the removal of those shoes stood as proof that neither soldier expected their prisoner to get away. Otherwise, they would not treat the place as a residence.

Silently grateful that there were no steps to trip on before entering the flat, Duo was taken through several rooms judging by the many turns and changes in the manner that they traveled. Finally, they came to a stop and the blindfold was removed.

Blinking his violet eyes, the braided soldier took in his new cell of gray brick walls and a single door of the same grated metal that he had seen back at the prison. After having stayed in a room with windows for so many days, the lack of anything to look through almost made him a bit claustrophobic. Running to the door just as Heero stepped through to lock it, he took hold of the diamond-shaped cuts in the metal and glared heatedly at his captors.

Arms folding across his chest, the Sergeant Major turned to his subordinate and stated, "As you saw, there are guards standing watch nearly a mile out and around the facility. No one knows why you are here, or whom you are with.

"They only know that you are to be guarded and not disturbed under any circumstances. If there is a need to contact you, they are to call from their own facilities first. Should there be anything that you need, you will call them and pick up the materials yourself. The less contact you have with these men the better, lest they become as troublesome as your last team of men."

Nodding firmly, Heero replied, "Yes, sir." With a deep bow at the waist, he concluded, "Thank you for your assistance and understanding. I will see you back out to your car, then."

On their way from the room, the officers continued a quiet conversation regarding the weather as Duo sat himself on the floor in his cell. Frowning deeply, he envisioned that look of sadness his friend had in his cobalt eyes just a moment ago. Anyone who did not know the First Sergeant the way he did would never have picked up on that. Clearly the old man never did.

But there was no doubt in the private's mind that Heero was not happy with having to be sent away. Understanding the Japanese culture, he knew that such a thing was like a slap in the face. And his heart went out to his friend for it.

Little time passed before Yuy returned alone. His cap removed from his head, the young man ran a hand through his unruly hair as he neared the door with a key in his free hand. He completely missed the wide eyes watching him as he unlocked the door while asking in concern, "Did I hurt you while getting you out of the car? I had to keep the act up for my company's sake."

Duo blinked and shook his braided head with a reassuring, "No. You didn't hurt me." He noted the look of relief on the other soldier's face as he pulled the door open. Stunned, the American just sat on the floor, staring up at his companion.

A smirk tugged the First Sergeant's face as he said, "Don't tell me that you thought I would be able to adjust to living without hearing your mouth run." Gesturing with his head for the other youth to follow, he stated, "Come on."

The private's bruised face lit up with a bright smile as he hurried to his feet. Side-by-side, the pair walked from room to room of the well-furnished flat. Much like a private cottage, the facility was more like a resort than a miniature base of any sort. No doubt only the officers very high on the food chain were the few lucky enough to know and utilize the place.

Every window blind was drawn as an added precaution for privacy. But enough light slipped through to light the space without the need of lamps. All in all, the single-storied facility had two bathrooms, three bedrooms and a spacious living room, dining room and kitchen. Just as promised, the bedrooms and storage rooms were filled with enough clothing and food to last for months.

Whistling through his teeth when they finished their tour in the living room, Duo shook his head, "Damn. This is really where we're going to be staying until I'm...?" He swallowed roughly when he was not able to finish his thought.

Upon his reminder of his friend's fate, Heero winced. Looking down to the floor as he searched for something to say, he noticed the tight fists that his hands were balled into. "Yes," was all that he managed to say.

With a deep breath, the braided private nodded solemnly before smiling, "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Might as well take advantage of the free meals they're providing, ne?" That said, he headed for the kitchen.

Slowly raising his head, Heero followed after while, silently willing his dark thoughts away.

* * * *

Dinner was a quiet affair. Seated across from one another at the dining room table, Heero and Duo enjoyed a simple meal and each other's company even if they did eat in silence for most of the time.

Reaching his fill, the braided private looked out to the window behind his friend. Knowing that there would not be any surprise visitors, they had decided to raise the blind to peer out to the fallen leaves as the real winter chill began to settle.

His violet eyes suddenly widening, Duo gasped, "Snow!" Instantly dropping his fork, he jumped from his seat and ran to the living room. Blinking in surprise, Heero got to his own feet to walk after his companion.

When he stepped into the adjoining room, the First Sergeant smiled at the sight of his friend kneeling on the couch that stood against the large windows at the front of the house. Eyes wide in wonder as he looked out to the thick drifts of flakes, he was the image of childlike innocence.

Long grown out of his own interest in snow, Heero could not help but be pulled into the excitement radiating from the other soldier. Quietly as to not break the spell, he knelt beside Duo and peered out at the peaceful sight.

"I was afraid I would never see snow again," the private breathed, his voice thick with emotion that he kept in check with a clearing of his throat. "This was always my favorite part of winter." Unconsciously wiping a stray tear, he smiled wistfully, "My Dad and I would be out in this stuff for hours, until Mom finally had us come in for hot chocolate."

Turning his head to face his friend, the officer grinned, "My Dad and I were like that, too." Just as quickly as it appeared, his smile faded as he sighed, "I stopped caring about the snow after he died. It... just didn't feel the same anymore."

Duo met the other soldier's eyes and shrugged, "Yea, but life goes on, 'Ro. I was almost like that, but I really don't think that either of our fathers would have wanted us to just stop living the way that we did when they were still around."

Heero sat in silence for a moment, taking those words into consideration. There certainly was a logic behind that sentiment... a logic that he never really thought of before. He knew the last thing his father would have wanted was for him to stop living.

...And yet, in a lot of ways, that was exactly what he had done.

Shuddering at the chill that ran up his spine, the sergeant knew that it was not brought on by the cold. Thankfully, his companion was already looking back out the window and never noticed it.

"I feel guilty, you know," Duo all but whispered without turning away from the scene outside. "There are others soldiers out there dying, being tortured and here I am in a nice warm flat getting a full meal and fresh clothes." Shaking his head, he frowned deeply, "I should be out there."

Peering out of the corner of his violet eye, the private commented, "And I know that you want to be out there, too. You want to be defending your country the same as I do, but the circumstances won't allow it."

Before he'd even thought the words over, Heero kept his cobalt eyes on the falling snow and heard himself reply, "You could always try and run away. That would solve both of our problems."

Violet eyes widening, Duo blinked and smiled. Shaking his head, he retorted, "That wouldn't solve your problems. If I got away, whatever the story you made up, you would never be respected or granted a shred of responsibility or worse. As much as I would love to be the hell out of here, I can't do that to you."

It was the officer's turn to blink in surprise as he looked over to his companion. He had just given an opening for the other soldier to walk right through and out of his confinement. And he did not take it.

Maxwell was right- should he fail at the single mission that he was given, he would be in a world of trouble. But, that certainly was not anything the private needed to be concerned with. Yet he was making it his concern.

"Why?" was all Heero could breathe.

Smiling sadly, Duo leaned in so that their foreheads were touching. Their long bangs blending together, the braided combatant stared his friend in the eyes and answered softly, "Because we're all that we have. Where you go, I go. Regardless of what is waiting for me, I am not about to put you in harm's way. So if you're not willing to run with me, then I stay here."

That was what true friends did. They looked after and protected each other.

All of a sudden feeling very small in knowing that he was not willing to put himself on such a line, Heero swallowed roughly.

His country came first. His duty as a soldier came first. There was no changing that. Even a friendship that he never had before.

But... he could not help feeling miserable over that.

One day, Duo was going to be handed over to someone else. Someone who was going to make him wish that he had never been born. Someone who would hurt him, crush him. All for a trade of services that the private had no say in.

Coming out of his dark thoughts, Heero blinked his cobalt eyes to the realization that his vision had become blurry. Much to his wonder, he felt tears rolling down his cheeks.

Slowly pulling his forehead back, Duo reached up to wipe the wet traces away with a whispered, "It's all right."

'No!' the sergeant thought to himself. 'It's not all right! Nothing about this is all right!'

The words never came out, but somehow his friend heard them. Tentatively, the braided soldier reached out and pulled the officer close.

Hardly able to fight back the sob that broke from his chest, Heero carefully wrapped his own arms around Duo. Burying his head in a strong shoulder, he relaxed with a quiet humming in his ear.

Curled together like that on the couch, the pair fell asleep once the emotional drain took its toll on them.

Outside, in the world gone mad, the snow continued to drift down peacefully.

TBC

chapter 16

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