"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"
The days following the infamous kiss that he'd shared
with Duo had been the most mentally exhausting times of Heero's whole
life. Never before did he feel so at odds with everything in his life.
While a part of his[him] was relieved that he'd actually gone through
with what his emotions were telling him, another part wished that
he had never opened that door. Up until then, everything made sense.
Everything he said and did had a purpose and a responsibility.
Now... now his feelings were added into the mix and all that he knew
was being questioned.
Of course there was a reason to keep this Khushrenada happy after
being such an influence to the Axis powers. He proved himself to be
someone that they needed to keep on their side.
But was it right to hold someone against their will to be treated
as a toy while playing the role of a bargaining chip? And
now that that certain someone was a person whom Heero had been
harboring feelings for...
Shaking his head at that, the sergeant sighed deeply and lay himself
back on the couch that he had been sitting on to stare at the ceiling.
Off in the distance, the muffled sound of the shower water running
continued to drone on.
Much to Heero's appreciation, Duo had been patient and given him his
space when he needed it once their feelings were out in the open.
There was no taking back what had happened between them and yet when
it became clear that there was a tension building, the braided soldier
fell right back into their companionable friendship with a smile.
Maxwell never pushed or prodded the issue or made things uncomfortable
between them. Whenever the officer needed to simply talk, he
was there to listen and offer whatever support he could.
It was only solidifying the growing feelings that the officer was
finally acknowledging. And they were becoming more and more difficult
to ignore.
Groaning, Heero dry washed his face with his hands just as the shower
water in the bathroom turned off. There were no easy answers to what
was happening. There was no way of simply shutting out his duty
or turning off his feelings. There was no direction to what to do
in this situation.
Why the hell did this have to be so complicated?
"Hey," a friendly greeting reached his ears. Turning his
head on the cushion that it was lying on, the sergeant's throat
went instantly dry.
At the entrance of the living room, Duo stood wearing only a white
towel ties[tied] around his waist as his loose and damp hair
clung to him. Frowning in worry, he tilted his head a bit and asked,
"Are you all right?"
No matter how many times he had seen his 'roommate' in his present
state, it never ceased to stun the sergeant. Quickly recovering from
his stupor, he pushed himself up from the couch and reassured in a
rush, "I'm fine."
With a snort as his friend approached, the private smirked, "Sure."
But he pressed the issue no further. Hairbrush in hand, he turned
and led his companion to the bedroom where he sat on the edge of the
bed.
Carefully moving to sit behind him, Heero took up the brush and gently
went about his work of removing the knots from the long tresses. Aside
from the sigh that escaped the long-haired soldier from time to time,
there was only a companionable silence.
Since arriving at the flat, this had become a ritual of theirs. Until
his back was completely healed without any concern of the wounds reopening
or causing more pain than need be, Duo needed help with the chore.
And the officer was all too happy to oblige in the chance to finally
touch the strands as he had wished for some time.
Just as he has imagined, the hair felt as smooth and silky as it appeared.
Mixed with the relaxing sensation that came with the brushing there
was also a strong sense of rage and guilt for Heero when he looked
to the marks that were beginning to scar his friend's back. Unconsciously,
his hand gripped tighter around the hair fisted in it and he heard
a small whimper from his friend. Quietly offering an apology, he made
sure to handle with more care.
Even then, Maxwell never pushed into knowing what was going through
his mind.
By the time the brush went through every lock without hitching on
a knot, Duo's mane was nearly dry. Methodically separating the hair
into three sections, the sergeant wove it into the trademark braid
and tied it at the end with a simple black band.
Like every other time before, Duo pulled the rope over his shoulder
for an inspection. Grinning widely to the other soldier, he praised,
"Nice job. You've officially become a pro at this."
Not quite feeling worthy of any compliment considering the circumstances,
Heero gave a half-hearted smile that disappeared as quickly as it
came. How could he deserve any kind words from the very person that
he was keeping prisoner for someone else's sick needs?
Sighing, the private turned to face his comrade and said quietly,
"All right. I can't sit back anymore when I know that there's
something wrong. You've been moping around all day. So... what's going
on?"
Much to his amazement, Heero was actually relieved to be asked instead
of left alone. The words flowed out of him without much thought behind
them as he replied, "It's just that I don't understand how you
can be attracted to me or even nice to me when I am the last person
on this earth that deserves that from you."
"I understand what your duty means to you," Duo began, only
to be cut off when the other warrior shook his head in frustration.
All but shouting, the officer cried, "Fuck duty!" His violet
eyes widening, the braided combatant blinked in shock as his
equally stricken friend wiped his face with his hands.
Taking a few calming breaths, Heero stared into the eyes watching
him. "You never did answer my question from that night,"
he stated in little more than a whisper. "If the tables in this
situation were turned, where we were in each other's shoes, you never
would have allowed something like this to go on... would you?"
Duo lowered his head with a deep sigh. Biting his lip, he finally
spoke up after a long pause while staring at the edge of the towel
that his hands were fiddling with. "I haven't answered because
I honestly don't know the answer to that. Part of me wants to say
that there is not a chance in hell I would carry out such orders...
but another part would damn me for going against what my superiors
believe would be best for my country."
Slowly raising his braided head, he shrugged, "I can't give you
a clear answer on that. And to be perfectly honest, it's why there
is a small part of me that's glad I'm not the one in your place. There
are too many variables involved... personal values, the code
of honor with the service and others... All not all of them can
win out with whatever you choose to do."
And that was the long and short of exactly what Heero's dilemma was.
Releasing the breath that he had been holding, the officer lowered
his own head and nodded shallowly.
With a rough laugh, Duo as he ran a hand through his bangs and continued,
"You're not the only one stuck between a rock and a hard place,
pal. I know that at any point, I could just walk through this door
and you would never come after me. Hell, you'd give me a few days
worth of a head start before you told anyone I was gone."
Heero nodded again, unable to look up while a lump formed in his throat.
Leaning forward, the private frowned, "But I know doing that
would put you on the spot. And as I said once before, I just can't
do that to you."
Small tears formed in his own violet eyes as he breathed, "Do
you have any idea of the time I'm having, knowing that I can leave
all of this behind me and not being able to because I feel this loyalty
towards you? After all the times you stuck your neck out for me, whether
it was for this goddamned mission or not, I can't leave you behind
to pay for it."
Raising his head at that, the officer cast his shimmering gaze on
his friend. "So it's only loyalty for what I've done that's keeping
you here?" he questioned brokenly. "You don't owe me anything.
I have done nothing for you that would be worth your staying for what
is coming."
A small, sad smile tugged Duo's lips at that. Wiping a stray tear,
he admitted, "Well... it's more than just loyalty. I actually
do kinda like ya."
Unable to help the small chuckle at that, Heero shook his head in
amusement and forced his tears back. Resting their foreheads together,
he whispered, "I kind of love you, too." Almost tentatively,
he tilted his head and leaned in to kiss the other soldier soundly.
It was nothing like the heated exchange they first shared days ago.
But the gentle caress was every bit as breathtaking.
When they pulled away, the pair just smiled at each other for a moment
before Heero rose to his feet. "You better get changed. 1945
is only a few hours away."
Grinning mischievously, Duo asked, "Think I'll get another one
of those kisses at midnight?"
The sergeant smirked, "I'm sure that will be in the cards."
Winking, he turned on his heel and closed the bedroom door behind
him on the way out.
His smile growing, Duo lowered himself onto his back and stared at
the ceiling. “1945,” he mused aloud. “Wonder what’s
in store this year.”
* * * *
Sylvia looked out the window of her home to the brilliantly
lit streets of Hiroshima and sighed. Another lonely year come and
gone. With any luck, this would be the last New Year's with a war.
Heading over to the mantle above the fireplace, she looked over the
picture frames resting there. With a sad smile, she looked over the
images of her wedding day. No one had any idea that she
was already a month along in pregnancy at the time. It was a special
little secret only she and her husband, Masato, shared.
That was, of course, until it came time for the delivery. By then,
everyone in their families were so happy to welcome the baby that
they completely overlooked the mote details behind how he came about.
One of the pictures showed the two families joined around Sylvia and
Masato as they held their little son. In another image there
was a shot of her father, Odin, carrying the little bundle with a
wide grin.
Even to this day, she could still here her 'old man' advising her
son as he grew to act on his emotions. It was the same advice
he had given her all her life. It was the same notion that led her
to her love.
With a heavy heart, Sylvia took up the picture of Masato in his flight
gear as he smiled proudly in front of his plane. Handsome and rugged
as ever, the man always did like to live life on the edge. Had she
known that such an ambition would have taken him away, the young woman
would never have let him set foot near a plane.
Carefully replacing the frame, she moved to the next and ran a hand
gently over it. Inside was the last picture that she had taken with
her son before he left for the army.
All grown up at the tender age of eighteen at the time, he was a remarkable
handsome young man in his uniform. Despite the seriousness of his
garb, he managed to offer a little smile for the camera as he wrapped
an arm around his mother's shoulders.
Those striking, blue eyes of his held the same sense of
readiness and pride that his father's brown eyes held whenever he'd
set out to train for the air force. The saying did go 'like father
like son.'
One could only hope that the comment did not also suggest that they
would share the same fate.
Just his wish to join the war had caused a slight rift with Sylvia's
family. Being Americans themselves, they were quite upset to learn
that one of their own was joining the fight against the Allies. But
he was her son. And this was the home that his father had died for
to be able to protect one day.
Where she stood as far as the war was concerned did not matter. She
would stand behind her child as any mother would no matter what
country's uniform he wore. It was his heart that made him who he was.
And it was a good heart.
Just like his father's.
Fighting back tears as she lowered her hand from the image, Sylvia
breathed, "Heero." Slowly walking back to the living room
window, she smiled sadly, "Happy New Year, son... wherever you
are." [1]
* * * *
"Thirty seconds to midnight!" Duo called from
the living room couch after checking the ornate clock on the
wall across from him. Heero entered soon after with a glass of wine
in each hand before sitting beside his friend.
Grinning as he accepted his offered drink, the braided private
kept his eyes on the second hand and counted down, "Five... Four...
Three... Two... One! Happy-" His words were cut off when
the sergeant cupped the side of his face to turn it wards[towards]
him for a fierce, deep kiss.
Only taken aback for a moment, Duo was readily quick to respond to
the exchange in kind. When they pulled back, Heero looked into the
other soldier's eyes and grinned breathlessly, "Happy New Year."
Still catching his own wind, Maxwell replied, "Happy New Year,
'Ro." Chuckling, he winked, "Seemed pretty damned anxious
for that kiss."
A slight blush coloring his cheeks, the officer
reached for the glasses that he had set on the table and shrugged,
"Well, you were the one that said you wanted a kiss at midnight."
Handing over one of the drinks to his friend, he smirked, "You've
been on good behavior so I thought that I might as well oblige."
Duo snickered and shook his head. "Play coy all you want, Blue Eyes,"
he retorted. "You can't convince me that you didn't
enjoy that." Before his companion could come up with a witty
response, he looked to his glass and asked, "So what do we toast
to for 1945?"
Chewing on the inside of his cheek in thought for a moment, Heero held
up his glass with a small smile. "To the end of the
war... whatever the outcome might be."
More that happy with that toast, the private raised his own glass
as they met between them. The warm, high-pitched chime filled
the air before they threw the wine back.
Outside, the sound of a loud pop had the pair nearly jumping
off the couch. Wide-eyed, they looked through the window just
in time to see a white shimmer of light that faded through the clearing
in the trees. Another pop and glow appeared soon after.
Quickly climbing to their feet, the soldiers ran outside and peered
to the heavens. All around the perimeter of the flat, miles out, fireworks
lit the sky in a variety of colors.
"Clearly we're not the only ones celebrating," Heero grinned
as the heavens continued to shine. "It would appear that our
guards snuck in some items to help with festivities."
Peering out the corner of his eye, Duo chuckled, "Are you
going to report them for going against protocol?"
"No," the sergeant replied quietly as he continued to watch
the display with a childlike wonder. "Better to let them
have some fun for a change. Besides, we get to enjoy this, too."
Duo's smile grew as he bent his neck to rest his head
on his friend's shoulder. "Happy New Year, Ro," he said
in little more than a whisper while gazing back up to the show.
Wrapping his arms around the other combatant's waist, Heero replied
in kind, "Happy New Year, Duo."
* * * *
January 8, 1945
Locked away in the lavish hotel room that he had been staying in since
his arrival in Germany, Treize closed the door to the bedroom.
No doubt the cleaning staff would not be pleased when they came through. Though
they were not likely to be surprised by anything that they found in
Khushrenada’s bedroom by now.
Poor lad had certainly put up with quite a good deal before he died. As
his only outlet in releasing his frustration, Treize had held
nothing back during his 'game.'
On this bleak day, Hitler was calling back his soldiers at the
tip of the small bulge that they had made in the Allied lines
out in the Ardennes.
It was the beginning of the end, no matter how stubborn the man was by
not calling all of his forces back in the vain hope that they
could regain their initial momentum.
Nearly six hundred tanks and well over a thousand aircrafts[aircraft]
were lost. And the casualties... those figures were already well on
the way to reaching one hundred thousand. By the time the battle was
officially over and the dust settled, there were sure to be more soldiers
killed or missing than that incredible figure.
There was nothing that could be done now. Within weeks, the Allies
would be pushing into Germany. They made their presence known and
were well on their way to winning the war in Europe.
For Treize, it was clearly time to dust himself off, cut his losses
and make some new friends.
After washing the blood from his hands, the informer threw his winter
coat over himself and placed a matching hat on his head. Taking the
handle of a packed suitcase in either hand, he stepped from his hotel
room and closed the door behind him.
Time to make good on Emperor Hirohito's extension of camaraderie.
TBC
[1] Obviously, I am aging Sylvia quite a bit here. I just wanted
another GW character to play the role of Heero's mother instead of
creating an OC.
chapter 20
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