"A War Worth Fighting"
Written By: SkyLark
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Gundam 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"
Reaching the main city of Sendai, Heero was able to
pick up a bus traveling to Fukushima. From there, he would be able
to take a connecting ride to Nagano to make his way further into the
mainland on his way to Hiroshima. [1]
The trip to Hiroshima was going to be a long and painfully slow venture,
one that would take weeks at the rate he was going, but it was best
to take every precaution needed if he hoped to make it to his mother.
Heavily leaning against the wall beside him, the sergeant looked out
to the fields passing by his window. While worrying over his mother,
he also could not help how much he missed Duo. He knew that his lover
needed to leave the country as soon as humanly possible, but he still
wished that they could have stayed together longer.
At least there was the peace of mind in knowing that he was safe and
on his way home after everything that had happened.
If anything happened to Heero, he would at least be happy knowing
that he was able to help his partner. There was a real solace in that. And
it had been worth whatever it cost him with his country and his
people.
His cobalt eyes drifting closed, the officer allowed himself a moment
to drift off to catch up on some much needed rest before the bus made
its final stop. Chances to sleep would come few and far between as
he crossed the country. Best to take every opportunity he had, even
if it was not the most restful of slumbers.
In his dreams, Heero envisioned the sprawling fields of
Montana as Duo had described them.
* * * *
"So, what are your plans now that the war is over?"
Isis asked Quatre as they finished laying the floor of a
new home that they'd helped build. "Now that you do not need
to worry about fighting, you must be thinking about where you
will go from here? "
The Arab shrugged and responded automatically, "Once we are discharged
from here, my affiliation to the army will be finished. I will return
home and carry on as I had before the war- following in my father's
footsteps to take over the family business when he retires. As his
only son, it is my duty as such."
Sadly grinning back, the woman nodded, "I see. Well, when you
do have to return home, I certainly hope that you will be sure to
visit us here whenever you can."
Before Quatre could reply, he heard and saw Hari running into the
home. Spotting his blonde friend, the Indian soldier ran toward him
while panting, "Brother, there is someone here to see you."
He raised his arms high overhead and said, "Huge man. He asked
for you. Come."
'It couldn't be," the Arab thought to himself, blue eyes wide, before
charging after his friend to step outside. Gasping at the sight of
their visitor, he cried in elation and disbelief, "Rashid!"
The tall, burly looking man from his father's hired oil field crew
looked just as he had before Quatre left his home to join the war.
His thickly bearded face smiled kindly on the blonde soldier
when their eyes met. Chuckling deeply, the giant nodded, "Master
Quatre. Good to see you."
All around, soldiers and citizens alike blinked in
shock that their 'little Quatre' actually knew such an imposing man.
Rigid shoulders relaxed and hands that had been on weapons fell away.
Finally coming out of his own surprised stupor, the Arab youth laughed
and hurried to his tall friend. "How in the world did you
find me?!" he asked, shielding his eyes from the sun as he stared
up.
Shrugging, Rashid answered, "Once your father learned
what army you joined in the war, it was only a matter of persuasion to
find out where you were stationed." His eyebrows wiggled
as he chuckled deeply, "He sent me to check on you because of
my fluency in the Indian language as well as how I can be persuasive
by just looking at someone."
Quatre snickered at knowing the truth behind that. For as gentle
and kind as the man was, no one dare cross him. He could only imagine
what the commanders back in India thought of the intimidating
man when they met. No doubt they were quite quick to reveal where
he could find the 4th Infantry.
Lightly shaking his head, the soldier frowned, "But why would
he send you? Is something wrong?"
Removing the large pack from his shoulder, Rashid opened it to remove
a thick envelope. "He wanted to be certain that you received
this," he stated. "He made me promise that I would get this
to you in person as a confirmation of that. Whatever your answer is,
I am to hurry back and give him the message."
Only surprised all the more, Quatre blinked in confusion over what
'message' he was supposed to give. For his father to send off one
of his best men to deliver the letter, it must have been a great
deal of importance. Taking up the envelope, the youth nodded
to the giant before walking off for a bit of privacy.
He found a lone tree just a few yards away and opened the letter under
its shade. Leaning against the trunk, the Arabian removed the letter
and began to read silently:
Son-
I simply wanted to be certain that you know how proud I am of you.
This journey that you have been on has proven you more a man than I.
Just as you have chosen your own path of right and wrong, so
you are free to choose your future. As my only son, I know that I
put a great deal of pressure on you in deciding who you are and who
you were to become.
Now I see that I never had that right. Your life is yours to live
as you see fit. And as this war has proven, life is far too short
to be taken for granted.
Should you choose to return, I will welcome you home with open arms.
Should you choose a different course, I will accept your decision
and only wish you the best.
All the best to you, dear child.
Tears streaming down his face, Quatre sniffled at reading his father's
signature at the end. Never before had he been told by his father
that he was proud of him. Never before was he given such a gift as
that to choose his own path in life.
Wiping his face dry, he took a deep breath and looked to the city
that was being rebuilt around him. He turned to Rashid and thought
of his family's oil fields and the work that was waiting for him there.
Quickly coming to a conclusion, the Arab soldier headed back to where
the tall man and his other friends were waiting. His eyes rimmed in
red, he smiled to his father's hired hand, "Please send my father
my best. As far as the message he is expecting, tell him that I have
chosen to remain here to finish the work that we have started but
will be back to see him and my sisters whenever I can."
Smiling, Rashid bowed at the waist with a pleased, "Very
good, Master Quatre. Best of luck to you." At that,
he whistled through his teeth and his large white horse trotted
into view. Climbing into the saddle with his pack, the burly
man bowed his head once more to the blonde soldier before riding off.
As he turned to face his friends, soldier and resident of Greece
alike, Quatre found grinning faces. The first to move, Isis
threw her arms around the youth and whispered, "You are
more than welcome here with us." Those of her neighbors around
nodded their heads in firm agreement to that sentiment.
When he pulled back from her arms to gaze on his new 'family,'
the Arab couldn't help the wide smile on his face.
This was home now. This was his future to live as he saw fit.
Both as exciting and unnerving as the uncertain future was, he
was ready for it. And he embraced it with all of his might.
* * * *
"They're certainly not wasting any time,"
Hernandez muttered under his breath as he and the Puerto Rico 65th
Infantry watched the United States army moving in on Mannheim.
While there had been American troops spread throughout the city, they
were making a clear move in on what would become their territory.
Considering the fact that the town was an important industrial
center to Germany, there was no doubt that the U.S. was going to be
keeping a close eye on the place. Along with the British, they had
already left their mark with the heavy bombings that left the area
in shambles during the war. [2]
Now, the men in their green uniforms and helmets marched proudly in
on their terrain. Silently, Trowa was more than relieved to see them.
Their arrival meant that he and his comrades would soon be able to
return home. He was more than happy to hand the city over to these
able men. No doubt he was far from the only one that felt that way.
Gathered in a tight formation, the 65th watched as the imposing army
came to a halt before them. In[At] the back, a couple of tanks rolled
to a stop.
Every one of those faces in view, young and old,
bore the war-weathered looks that every soldier wore. But, like
every other soldier, there was still a brimming determination behind
those eyes that anyone would have been a fool to challenge.
Surely no one in Mannheim was going to put up a struggle against these
men?
There was a brief silence before one of the commanding officers from
the United States' troop moved towards the soldier at the front
of the Puerto Rican force. Nodding his protected head, the American
greeted, "General Mendez, it is very good to meet you."
The men exchanged a firm handshake.
As one of the few who understood English, Trowa listened in from only
a couple of men back. General Mendez nodded firmly, "Same to
you, General Septum. As you can see, we assisted the other soldiers
stationed here in securing the area for you. We are at your disposal
should you need us to stay and keep the peace in the area."
Smiling kindly, Septum replied, "Only briefly until my men and
I are settled. From there, you and your troops head on home. You all
have earned it after being such a huge help in the war effort."
Those Puerto Rican soldiers that understood what was being said smiled
proudly.
His head slowly panning the many faces of the 65th Infantry, the American
General ran his fingers over his dark mustache. "I must admit,"
he began, "I never thought that such a strong force would come
from such a little corner in the world.
“Just goes to show that you can never underestimate
anything. Those places that you have visited and fought in- Italy,
France and Germany certainly will not forget you any time soon. You
are a force to be reckoned with."
More grins spread throughout the unit as those words carried over.
To earn such a recognition from a member of the United States' army-
one of the powerhouse Allies in the war- was a great honor. They came
into the fray to prove themselves. And they managed to do just that
and then some.
None looked more proud than General Mendez. Small tears filled his
brown eyes as he nodded with a quiet, "Thank you, Septum."
Clearing his throat, he turned back to face his men. "Barton,"
he called, waving the sniper forward when he spotted him amidst his
troop.
Emerald eyes widening, Trowa excused himself as he moved past the
other soldiers around him to reach the officers. Placing a hand on
the young man's shoulder, Mendez introduced, "This is Trowa
Barton, one of my best snipers on the team. He will be able
to show your sharp shooters the best places to take as their
posts during your stay."
Taken aback by his superior's words, the sniper fought a
slight blush and bowed his head. Saluting smartly to the American,
he said, "It would be an honor to assist, General Septum."
With a deep chuckle, the dark-haired man smirked, "Very good,
Barton. At ease." As Barton relaxed his posture, Septum looked
over his shoulder and called, "Snipers!" Quickly moving
forward, a total of fifteen men sprang forward. Over their shoulders,
they all bore the rifle that every sniper kept on them at all
times.
Gesturing to a blonde-haired man and an African American at the head
of that team, their General stated, "Alex and Mueller, be sure
that you take notes from Private Barton, here. He is going to make
sure that you know everything there is to know about securing the
area. Once this fine infantry heads back home, I will hold you both
responsible for seeing that your team remembers everything you learned."
Both nodding in response, the pair responded in one voice, "Sir,
yes, sir!"
Trowa's chest swelled when the American snipers turned to him. Never
before did he ever believe that he would be given such a duty as to
help prepare troops from the Unites States' army.
Quickly breaking from his stupor, the Latin sniper grinned, "Right. This
way." Turning on his heels, he led the way deeper into
Mannheim to where the best lookout locations were.
In the background, he could hear General Mendez calling on other members
of the infantry to direct the new army through the city based on
their roles in the troop. Smiling from ear-to-ear, all
he could think of was his wish that Catherine were there to see
him.
He couldn't wait to tell her about the experience. He couldn't
wait to tell their friends. No one would ever believe this was happening!
By far, it was Trowa's greatest sense of accomplishment.
* * * *
Stirring awake when the bus came to a stop, Heero's heavy-lidded
eyes watched as a new batch of passengers stepped aboard. At
finding a handful of uniformed soldiers entering, he was
instantly alert. Swallowing roughly, he sank further into his chair
at the back of the cabin while pulling his hood of the fresh, red
sweater he was wearing further over his head.
Much to his relief, the band of five found a spot where they could
sit together at the front of the bus. Not one of them had paid
mind to him, or any of the other passengers for that matter. They
were too busy talking and laughing amongst themselves.
Discussions of finally seeing action shortly were their main topic.
Like so many other men in the service, all that they were looking
forward to was defending their country.
They bragged of how many Americans they wanted to kill.
They boasted of how they would no doubt have their choice of women
throwing themselves at them when they returned from battle.
Heero could relate as he had been there once. And these young
men would see the 'action' that they were so craving. But it
would not be nearly the glorious thing that they envisioned.
Young as they were, he imagined that a few of them would cry or wet
themselves when they had their first real taste of 'action.'
Gone would be all of their arrogance. Instead of dreaming up
the women that would be at their beck and call, they would simply
be hoping and praying to return home safe and sound.
Their romanticized ideas of what fighting for honor was like would soon
be stripped away to reveal what war truly was... madness... kill or
be killed.
Before long, those young men would be wishing to hell that
they had never left their homes. What with the main focus falling
on Japan, they were going to be up against great odds with
the Allies bearing down on them.
What lay ahead was not going to be pretty by any means. It was
not going to bring them the honor that they thought they were bringing.
They were going to be massacred, cut down to the last while their stubborn
leaders that sent them off stayed in their elaborate estates
and offices safe from any harm.
All because of pride and nothing more.
Having once believed that there was no honor in surrender, Heero was
now understanding that it was far worse to allow that notion to cloud
reason. There was nothing to be gained by remaining in defiance
of the inevitable.
The few medals and stripes on the boys' uniforms told the
sergeant that these were men still in training- not even ready
for action yet. No doubt they would be sent into the battlefields
before they were truly ready.
Fortunately for him, that also meant that they would never have
known who he was, even if the search for him and Duo was still
ongoing. Recruits like them would never have been given information
to concern themselves with outside of what it was they needed to do
in their training.
Preparing themselves for the struggles ahead came before everything
else.
But that bit of relief was not enough to relax his guard.
Heero kept an eye on the army recruits as the doors to the bus
closed and their vehicle roared back to life.
He had given up on the idea of sleeping for the remainder of the trip.
TBC
[1] A map of Japan: http://www.infoplease.com/atlas/country/japan.html
[2] The history of the city of Mannheim as well as its
occupation can be found here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mannheim
chapter 36
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