|
"Warheads"Written By: ExecutiveShrimp Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, it belongs
to Bandai, Sotsu and associated parties. Written for pleasure not
profit. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: Post War, angst, fluff, psychological
issues, lemon Pairings: 2x1 Summary: Duo and Heero try to become more than
comrades in their attempt to be normal young men. They settle down
but find that peacetime is difficult to adjust to and with only each
other to rely on, it is a struggle, especially for Heero. " Warheads "
"Duo-" There was a long, meaningful inhale. "Please return my calls. Locking yourself and Heero up in that apartment isn't going to help. I know you just want to protect him, but he needs help that you can't give him. Doctor Borland is free next Monday to assess the progress of Heero's healing. I really wish you would come... I have also arranged for someone else... Someone for him to talk to. A professional. I know you want to do this all by yourself, but there is no shame in accepting help from others. I hope to see you and Heero Monday. Whatever hour works for you. If you call back, I can arrange for a car to be sent for you. Also..." There was a moment of hesitation or remorse, it was hard to tell. "Agent Levelt's funeral is tomorrow, at ten, at the Preventers graveyard, which sadly just keep getting bigger... Maybe it would be good for Heero to be there... Bye." Beep. "Do you want to 1) play the message again, 2) delete the message, 3 save the message." With a stiff finger I pressed CANCEL and the display went blank. "Can you believe her?" I muttered, my pride offended. Quatre walked out of the kitchen with that look of his. A look a knew well. He had an opinion on the matter but I wasn't going to like it, so he'd prefer not to speak. "She's butting into business that isn't hers." "Une just wants to help." Quatre tried, following me as I dragged my body to a nearby seat. "There is no shame, as she said, in accepting her offer. You both just want the best for Heero." I snorted. "She just wants her soldier back." "You know that's not true." He said down beside me, his hands, tense and moist with sweat, fidgeting in his lap. In the kitchen the microwave started to beep, the leftovers from last night had been sufficiently reheated, but we both ignored the urgent, high pitched call. "You should go. She made all these arrangements." "Just because someone went out on a limb for you doesn't mean you have to listen to them." I spat, ducking my head in between my shoulders and stubbornly folding my arms across my chest. Quatre shook his blond mop of hair. "That's not what a mean. She called for a psychiatrist..." He sighed and that look appeared on his face again, but he continued bravely: "Maybe she knows something we don't. About Heero's mission." "We don't know anything about Heero's mission!" I exclaimed despairingly. "You said his partner died." Quatre's words stung in my heart. "We both know that would hurt Heero far more than any sort of physical injury. No matter how expertly he hides it." I sank deeper into the seat, wishing the cushions would swallow me so I wouldn't have to face reality, which had been disappointing me lately. "I don't want him to talk to some stranger who happens to have a degree." I sulked pathetically. "I want him to talk to me. It just doesn't feel right that he would be sharing stuff with someone else, but not with me." I pursed my lips and furrowed my brow, definitively I announced: "Heero doesn't need a shrink. I can help him myself." "Okay." Quatre said, even though it was obvious by his tone that he did not agree. "And keep your damn judgment to yourself." I warned, looking at him sideways. "I'm only trying to help, Duo." He said soothingly. "Pfff... yeah... I know." I tried to ignore the warm, comforting hand he placed on my knee, trying to remain angry at him - so I could at least be angry with someone-, but I couldn't. He forced a smile onto my lips. He pulled back his hand to look at the sparkling hands of time on his expensive gold watch. "I'm sorry, Duo, I have to go. I have a video conference set-up waiting for me at the hotel." "I understand. Go. Go! Go make millions." He quirked an eyebrow at me. "You know I don't actually make millions, right?" "Right. Single, not plural." I jested. He caught on that I was merely joking, so he just chuckled and then shouldered his coat. "I'll be back tomorrow morning. Try to get some sleep." He said by the front door and he refused to leave till I grunted in agreement. "Bye." "Bye." I reheated the food again and separated it onto two plates. Carefully balancing the plates on my splayed hands I walked over to the bedroom and worked the door handle with my elbow. Once I was inside I leaned heavily against the wall, pressing my back against the switch, turning on the lights. Upon my entry Heero struggled to sit upright in his bed. I hurried to place the plates on the nightstand so I could help him up, using both his pillow as well as my own to prop him up and support his back. I placed the nearest plate on his lap, the one where everything had already been cut into bite sized pieces and then I handed him a fork. "Voila, monsieur, a delicious leftover meal with plus bon sauce. Bon appetite." I said cheerfully to keep up the lighthearted pretences, noting my heavy American accents in the French words which I compensated by feigning a heavy French accents in the English words. He didn't even need to say anything, his eyes communicated perfectly: "That was a ridiculous excuse of the French language." Maturely I stuck my tongue out at him and deadpanned: "Excuse me, mister I-speak-seven-languages-fluently-two-of-which-you-have-never-even-heard-of." He laid his fork back down on the plate before he could take his first bite. he looked at me with a deep frown and soulful eyes. "Why do you do that?" He asked. "Do what?" I asked with a mouthful of hot food. "Act." He said curtly with narrowed eyes. "It's been almost a week and still you haven't gotten angry with me." "No one wants the God of Death to get angry, why do you?" I asked, keeping my gaze focused on my meal for the purpose of avoiding his prying eyes. "Because it confuses me that you won't get angry." He sounded genuinely lost. "Well I'm sorry that it's such a hassle for you." I snapped bitterly, instantly regretting my foul tone and spiteful words. "Would you just eat. Please?" I demanded, leaning over and forcing his fork back into his left hand. He fought my hands away, dropping the fork to the carpet in the process. "Get angry." He challenged, his eyes still searching mine. "No!" I looked down at the carpet, noticing the blotch of red sauce that had transferred from the fork. "Look what you did!" I bent down to pick it up. "I'll get you a clean fork." I rose to do as I said, but then in a flash Heero's plate was on the carpet, upside down, and he was looking up at me defiantly. "What did you do that for? !" I picked up the plate and scraped most of the food off the carpet with the fork. Heero didn't say anything, he was looking up at me with a tight mouth, his left fist clenched and white-knuckled, his chest heaving as he panted and the tremble of his entire body was visible in the movements of his bangs. I pressed my lips together tightly, averted my eyes and firmed the grip I had on the plate and the fork. I stormed out of the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind me before foul words would burst out of me in screams. I threw the plate into the sink and heard the frail porcelain shatter but I couldn't care. I nestled myself into the couch, curling up and turned on the TV for blissful distraction from my own thoughts. Unbelievable. Unbelievable! I thought, staring at the TV screen angrily, hugging my own shins. I waited till I was calm, till I could think rationally again. It took a long time, in the meantime I paid no heed to the movie that was playing, it was just noise to drown out the scathing voices that sounded too much like my own. When everything was finally quiet, I dragged one of the heavy lounge chairs to just under the bay window and had propped my elbow on the window sill on which rested my heavy head. What a pathetic sight I had turned myself into, like a forlorn damsel in an ancient myth, waiting for her hero to be guided by the flame of the candle cupped in her hands. How sad. How sad that everything strong can be reduced to weakness. Like a car in a scrap yard I had been stripped and crushed and a mangled mess that didn't even resemble my original form remained. In the pale dawn I was the only guest to my own pity party. I stayed in that chair all through the need, even though my tired, aching body longed to be reunited with my bed. I couldn't join Heero in the bedroom. I was scared of his emotions and inner turmoil, as well as my own. They confused me equally, even though you would think I would have insight into my own feelings to a certain extent. Everything was so confusing. One moment I pitied him, the other moment, I felt the love I once knew and then all of a sudden he asks me to be angry, when I don't want to be. He still needed to heal and I was so angry I didn't even know how to express those feelings, no one had ever taught me how to deal with these feelings and rightfully share them. Honestly, I wasn't even sure if it was anger I feeling, rather than a confusing myriad of novel emotions and the only thing I was getting angry at was him wanting me to be angry. I didn't know. I just didn't know! I cursed my failed teachings. In the uncomfortable lounge chair, every tendon in my body was strained and started to throb, but caught in a vicious circle I quickly became to tired to move my painful limbs. Yet not tired enough to succumb to unconsciousness. The night crept by without sleep victimizing me. All I could do was listen to the building thoughts in my head. Pondering over the cracks that I had seen in the armor of my only ally. Quatre had been most helpful and attentive, taking care of me as I took care of Heero. But even the kind blonde had no comfort or cure for the pain I was suffering and in that sense Heero was the lucky one. The alliance was an uneasy one. I was too consumed with myself, to confront anyone other than my own demons, so I neglected Quatre's stares and his own nervous bite marks on his lips, even though I noticed them. My whole body ached as feelings tore into each other, anger, betrayal and concern fought for ground at the cost of me. I felt sick and weak, like I just needed to lie down on the couch and sleep endlessly. Everyday the voice mail gathered messages from school and from Sookie, but all went unanswered as I tried to establish a bubble in which I could be safe and be alone with my thoughts. And around my petrified figure Quatre maintained the household, arranging for groceries and food and found an enjoyable passing of time in the task of cleaning every dusty surface he could find. All the while looking at me, stealing glances - fooling himself by thinking the God of Death wouldn't notice, wouldn't feel the prying eyes. Something was obviously eating away at my friend, something unspoken between him and me, like the unspoken things between Heero and myself ate away at me. But, so I concluded in the dead of night, my head could not be bothered with more troubles. I could do nothing but trust Quatre with the responsibility of this unspoken thing. A black limousine glistened in the morning light as it pulled to the curb. The shine that burned my eyes awoke me from my deep and troubled musings. Expecting Quatre, I already walked over to the intercom and instead of going downstairs to guide him up personally, I buzzed him in and cracked the door open so I could return to the only comfort I had left, my chair and my coffee. Quatre walked in with that same apologetic smile that seemed to have become one with him. He carried a heavy plastic groceries bag and he didn't greet me till he had dumped the weight on the kitchen counter. "Yeah, hi." I responded with a gravelly voice, watching the limousine pull away. He immediately noticed the blanket on the lounge chair and must have accurately inferred where I spent the night, but he made no comment on the matter. "I got you and Heero a lot of fruit." Quatre called from the kitchen as I heard him unpack, the plastic ruffling absurdly loud. "A watermelon, apples, oranges, some kiwi's and strawberries..." Kitchen cabinets opened and closed as did the refrigerator door, repetitively. "And new cereal, fresh bread, milk, oh, and-" His head appeared around the corner and he presented to me the large jar of peanut butter. "Almost forgot." He admitted shamefully. "Yeah, well, he can do one damn week without peanut butter." I grumbled, staring into the distance. I felt Quatre approach me and sensed his eyes were prying, so I didn't look back. "You were the one who told me I should, under no circumstances, forget. You practically threatened me." "Well... That was yesterday. Today is today and today is a new level of vengeful bitterness." He was silently contemplative for a while and then responded forcefully chipper: "You should eat something, have some strawberries!" "A few damn strawberries isn't going to make everything okay, Quat!" I looked at him and saw him flinch. Quatre preferred to see the good in people, when he saw something else - like the God of Death - it scared him. "He hasn't even been out of the bedroom yet! He just lays there all pathetic and begs me to get angry with him! It pisses me off!" "Then get angry with him." Quatre offered carefully. "No! I'm not going to yell at some poor crippled guy! He should just hurry the fuck up and get better so I can punch him in the face!" Quatre suddenly smiled. "You're worried about him." "Shut up!" Quatre took a step back. I sighed and deflated in my seat. I looked away for a moment, outside, to gather peaceful thoughts and feelings. Everything else ebbed away. With tired eyes I looked back at Quatre, relieving another deep sigh. "I'm sorry," I mumbled genuinely, "What I'm doing is not fair. I'm angry with Heero but I'm taking it out on you. I'm sorry." "It's okay." His eyes turned grim right before he looked away. He started biting his lower lip again, fumbling with the hem of his lilac button-up shirt. "No, it's not." "Yes, Duo, it is." Quatre suddenly spoke firmly. I looked at him in surprise and recognized shame but mostly, determination. He sat himself down on the back of the couch, facing me. He wiped his palms over his thighs, like they were sweating, like he was nervous. He avoided eye contact for as long as he struggled to find words, when he finally opened his mouth, his blue eyes pinned me down. "It is okay. Because you have the right to be angry with me as well." I could do nothing but look at him expectantly, knowing the unspoken would soon be spoken, but having no clue what exactly he was referring to. He was the only friend who had come to help, to offer what little comfort there was to offered, I couldn't figure any reason to justify being angry with him. "I have something I need to tell you. I was waiting for the right moment, but I realize now that there will never be a right moment." He wiped his palms again, he was really anxious. My confused frown spurred him on, he released his lower lip from the grip of his white teeth and continued: "You remember the ball?" There was no fighting the tiny smile that came to my lips as I did indeed remember the ball and one of the greatest moments of my life: watching Heero laugh. Of course it was all bittersweet now. "When you left, I told you: "I hope it works out". Do you remember that?" My frown deepened. "Yeah." His eyes were vulnerable and pleading as he stared into me and allowed me to stare right back into him. "I said that because I knew something you didn't know, yet. Two things, actually." He waited, I guess he hoped I would puzzle everything together myself and spare him the trouble of having to tell me pointblank, but with my brain dead tired, I couldn't connect the dots even if there was already a dotted line assisting me. "I knew Heero was a Preventer agent." The words floated around in the air of the living room for a long time till they started to register in my ears and make sense as they slowly traveled up the cognitive pathways in my brain till finally a full understanding washed over me and blood surged into my head feeding my grey matter with a single goal: to produce more anger. "What?" I felt seething rage and betrayal and my fingers gripped the armrests like claws. "I knew Heero was an active agent." There were several questions that instantly overwhelmed me but I went with the most pressing: "Why didn't you tell me?" The only reason I remained seated was my tired stature, or else I might have been in his face. "I didn't want to start a fight between you two! You looked so happy, I didn't want to ruin that." "That's bullshit!" "No! I figured Heero would tell you eventually. I didn't want... I didn't..." "You didn't want to be the bringer of bad news." I accused. He looked at me with sorrowful eyes and then nodded meekly. "I never knew you were a coward, Quatre." My feelings of anger started to turn into just being hurt. I pushed myself out of the chair, it took effort and walked over to the cabinet where two twin bolts shared a view of the scene. With my back turned towards Quatre and a gentle finger on the damaged bolt, I told him: "You should have told me. As soon as you found out. It would have been the right thing to do." "I know that now. I'm sorry." He was not forgiven. "How did you find out?" "WuFei told me." I chuckled bitterly as Quatre continued to explain: "He heard by coincidence. Usually the Preventer Earth and Space faction are pretty separate, but I guess when another Gundam Pilot joins... word spreads. " My chuckle evolved into a dark laughter. I turned around to look at Quatre, who looked back sat me like I was crazy and maybe he was right. "You know what the stupid thing is? Of all us Gundam Pilots, I suspected you and WuFei the least of lying and keeping secrets. Especially one that risks the welfare of a friend. What if he had gotten hurt, not like now, but really hurt. The even-Heero-can't-stand-it kind of hurt, the dead hurt, how would you feel then?" "Terrible. Awful." "Well, I want you to feel like that right now." "I do! I do! I would just... if things had been worse, I would feel even more awful." "You said there were two things I didn't know yet." I interjected. Quatre shot a worried look at me and swallowed audibly. "What is it? Do I know it now, or do I still don't know it?" I approached him, trapped him against the back of the couch, I would never hurt him, but I was not above intimidating him to find the answers they had been keeping from me. "I don't know." "Then you better make sure and tell me." He nodded furiously. "I will. No more secrets." He leaned back. "I feel uncomfortable." He needn't fear me, he should know that by now. Despite appearances Quatre and I were often caught in heated disagreements during the war. But no matter how hard we could sometimes yell at each other, trying to out-shout the other, blinded by our differences, we never doubted the strength of our friendship. But now I was starting to doubt. I took a step back, exiting his personal space, waiting for him to speak with dark eyes that hid a curious dread. "When Heero and I were captured and held at the lunar base during the first war, the Treize Faction rescued us from OZ and took us to the scientists who had been hiding there. They gave us a straightforward update on the situation, but after the briefing - Heero had already left - Docter G said something to me." "G?" "Yeah. Apparently, he knew quite a bit about Heero's training?" "Yeah. He thought he could train me the same way, but he wouldn't do it. What did he tell you?" "Not much. He just told me to look out for myself around Heero and then he said: "it has happened before". He didn't trust Heero, with the missions. He said Heero was warped." I frowned, not only did I not understand why G would even talk to Quatre, I also didn't know what could possibly be meant by that. I asked Quatre. "I didn't know either, at first. Later though, after we separated, I did a little research. I had some help, one of Rashid's brothers is the best in finding out everything people don't want you to know. He helped me trace some records. Records related to Heero's training and something that happened during training." "Ok, Quat, enough with the thriller build-up, just spit it out." I demanded. "Heero killed someone." When he said the words, I felt relieved. I had been afraid he was going to confirm something I had been suspecting for a while now. To have it go unconfirmed for another day, eased my aching heart back into blissful ignorance. I took a deep breath but then immediately felt angry at Quatre for scaring me like that. "We've all killed people." I reminded him, knowing that even Quatre's hands were stained with blood - figuring it may be the reason why he washed them so obsessively. He shook his head. "No. Not like this... I saw the picture. It was only a young boy, but he wasn't even recognizable. And I don't mean that he wasn't recognizable as himself, but that he wasn't even recognizable as a human. He face was just all blood and-" Quatre's complexion turned pale and upset. He wrapped his arms around himself. "I don't know when it happened, or in what context, but honestly, after seeing that I think differently of Heero. He is an admirable young man but... I'm scared of him. I was scared for you." I shook my head and walked away. "This is the dumbest thing I've ever heard. So you saw a picture! It could have been a fake, a set-up by J to make his Perfect soldier look even more menacing. It doesn't mean anything." Even though I said the words, denying everything, the possibility gnawed at me with painful small nips right out of my consciousness. I would be lying if I ever claimed to believe Heero was incapable of doing what Quatre described. But I preferred to believe that even though he could, he would not. "I don't think it was fake." "Frankly, Quatre, I don't care anymore what you think. I want you to leave." "But-" He started. "I think you've done enough." I looked at him sternly, to make sure he understood I was being serious. "I understand. I'm sorry." He walked towards the coat rack by the door and put on his leather jacket. "I'll go back to L4." He said, almost as a warning, a last attempt to inspire forgiveness in me. "Perfect. Have a safe trip." I deadpanned and sat back down in my seat, my head turned away from him. "I wish you both the best, I really do." "That's fantastic Quatre, thank you, now everything will be perfect." He gripped his hand angrily around the doorknob of the front door at my sarcasm. He ripped it open but before he stepped out and left, he turned back towards me and for a moment all apologies were absent from his face and he spoke: "You may have mastered sarcasm, Duo, but the true winner is the one who has mastered forgiveness. The only reason I kept this secret was because I thought it was the best thing to do. And I believe Heero figured the same. We may have been wrong, but we had good intentions." "Well, your good intentions hurt!" I yelled and then the door fell shut and he was gone. Five minutes later the same black limousine from before returned under the window where I sat and whisked Quatre off, straight back to the spaceport. I feared I may have been wrong to send him away, the apartment seemed a little duller and colorless after his departure. But at least in my loneliness, no one could lie to me anymore. Sinking into the cushions, my body heavy with feelings and thoughts, I grew increasingly annoyed by all the secrecy that had been surrounding me. There were so many things I didn't know because people wrongfully thought they'd be doing me a favor by keeping them from me, I felt like an outsider. There was someone sleeping in our shared bedroom, someone I liked to believe I knew and could trust, someone I called my best friend, someone I called my boyfriend, but there was a veil of secrets and lies that separated us and no matter how often I tenderly kissed his lips or lovingly touched his skin, that veil would always be between us, preventing intimate connection. It was time for that veil to be ripped apart, so I could reach through and we could finally experience a real relationship. Our relationship should be beyond the training and any past or present missions and obligations, rather than be bound and restricted by them. I took a trembling breath and then rose to my feet to retrieve the answers I needed so I could be then be angry with Heero and then forgive him and then continue to love him unconditionally. I pushed the door to the bedroom open and mercilessly flicked on the bright light. Heero was directly looking at me, lying on his back in his bed. I didn't bother to demand how long he had been awake and what he had heard of my argument with Quatre. I gently hoisted him out of bed, not responding to his confused and almost frightful eyes, though they wrought my heart. I supported him on our way to the bathroom, stepping around the soiled spot on the carpet. I helped Heero relieve himself and wash his hand and then closed the lid of the toilet and sat him down so he could rest while I ran a lukewarm shower and undressed us both. Without saying a word I guided him under the spray and held his body tight against my chest so he would soon stop shivering under the water. "Quatre left." He observed as I massaged shampoo into his hair. "Yes." "Does this mean you will get angry at me?" "It means we will talk." With soapy fingers I grabbed his sharp chin and made him look back at me over his shoulder, my expression was not threatening, just determined. "And you are going to tell me everything about your mission." "Just the mission?" He seemed surprised, obviously he had heard Quatre's allegations regarding the death of the young boy. "Just the mission. For now. As a start. But soon all the secrets will have to be gone, do you understand?" He nodded his consent. He turned his head back and I resumed washing his hair, being careful in the vicinity of the raw and burned ear shell. He stood still as I soaped up his skin, not being as gentle around the wounds as I had been before. They were starting to heal and before the skin would close up completely, we had to take extra care to clean the wounds to prevent infections later on. He trembled as my hand moved up and down his thigh, I think because soap was being worked into the exposed bullet wound. Any other possibility would be irrational wishful thinking. I washed his whole body, experiencing some difficulty remaining professional and ignoring the intimacy of both our bodies against one another, completely naked, but I managed and rinsed us both off quickly so we could be wrapped into large, warm towels. At Heero's request I let him dry off and put on his own underwear, trying not to read anything into it and take it personal. I put on my clothes and then redressed all of his wounds, inspecting them carefully and appreciating the quick healing powers of his body. His shoulder and knee, in contrast to the superficial lacerations, were not an easy fix, not even for his super-human healing capabilities. It would take extensive physiotherapy before he would be his old self again. Luckily, he seemed to conform much better to his role of patient than I had ever dared to expect. If his cooperation would last, physiotherapy wouldn't be all that bad. I decided not to bandage the little cuts on his chest, it didn't seem necessary and he also started to shiver violently in the cold of the air-conditioning, which I probably should have thought to turn off. I handed him a bottle of disinfectant gel to tend to his ear himself while I went to get him some clean clothes. Even though T-shirts and sweaters were more appropriate attire for his process of recuperation, we had quickly discovered that button-up shirts made getting him dressed a much simpler task and less stressful on the shoulder joint and damaged blade. I brought his hurt arm into his sky blue button-up shirt first and slowly buttoned it up, aware of his eyes on my fingers. Because the fit was too tight, he wore the shoulder brace over the shirt. It was still a hassle to get on, but I became increasingly familiar with the assembly of hard plastic and woven synthetic straps. The knee brace was much easier, requiring no experience nor expertise. I held his left foot and carefully guided it through his navy blue sweatpants. He put his other foot in it himself and pulled up, only needing my assistance to raise his hips off the seat so he could fasten the pants around his waist with the elastic cord. In the spirit of rehabilitation I brought him his crutch and made him walk to the kitchen table by his own strength. My hands never wavered far and I made sure to stay alert, noticing every little quiver in his legs and the straining muscles in his arm as he put most of his weight on the crutch. When he lowered himself onto his usual chair at the table his strong knee gave out but I was right there to catch him and carefully sit him down. Heero rested from the exertion while I made him a peanut butter sandwich and poured him a glass of milk, still no coffee for the patient. He ate and drank without complaint and without making eye contact. I sat across from him, studying the movements of his fingers, enjoying the way his golden tan looked dressed in the blue shirt, which also brought out the ice blue cores of his irises. He looked exotic and fresh, like a summer rain in a foreign place. I still loved him, I knew, nothing - no amount of lying or secrecy - could cure that, but I dreamed of experiencing how much more I could love him if the veil would be lifted and he would love me back equally. I expected it to be of all-consuming intensity and did not worry about being disappointed. If only we could get there. He finished his meal and I pushed the empty plate and glass to the far end of the table, out of our way. He looked at me. His blue orbs pleading. I didn't know exactly what they were asking of me, but I surmised he wanted me to get angry, like he had been trying to coax me to be for the past few days. He wanted to be punished because it was what he knew, but this wasn't going to unfold his way - J's way -, I was in control and even though he looked like someone bracing himself for physical pain, I wasn't going to give him that. Hitting him was the easy way, it solved nothing. We were going to take the long and hard way and neither of us was going to like it. We shared a calm quiet briefly before I spoke up. With soft and neutral voice I told him about that evening, that Sunday. I tried to relay to him the things I felt, hoping to create understanding in him, even though I didn't think him capable of truly empathizing. I told him everything Une had divulged about the mission and when I was finished I asked him to tell me everything I didn't already know and I strongly urged - forced - him to be detail oriented. "Begin at the very beginning." "The beginning?" He suddenly appeared so vulnerable and childlike, but I wasn't going to cave because I felt sorry for him. "When you accepted the mission." Heero thought for a long time, staring at his left hand splayed on the wooden surface of the table. He shrugged his good shoulder and then started tentatively: "It was about two weeks before the mission. I volunteered." He looked up at me with big, hesitant eyes, seeking approval, but my features were immobilized as I tried to maintain an impassive expression - I had learned from the master by way of observation. "It was a solo mission, but the Monday before the mission, Une changed her mind. She wanted me to take an explosives expert with me." He looked at me again, seeking guidance, but got nothing. "She suggested agent Levelt. You met him." I nodded. "I objected, but then... her suggestion turned into an order and Levelt was assigned to the mission." His eyes narrowed and his lips tightened. "He was the best of his class and graduated from the explosives course with honors but he had never gone on a mission before." His fingers idly stroked the smooth surface of the wooden tabletop. "He had only been assigned security details. He needed more experience, but Une ignored my every protest, said his skills and strengths complemented mine and vice versa. I had a week to prepare him. Everyday it became more obvious that he wasn't ready, he did everything by the book but I knew that he would falter in the field." "So you were actually training a newbie as you said that time." I asked when a silence fell. "Yes." I didn't know what that meant, how that made me feel. I just waited for him to continue, not passing any judgment or making accusations that weren't going to help us. "Friday was the last day of preparation, we did a dry run at a Preventers training facility and I checked his math. It was sound. The rehearsal went well. At the airport at the head quarters, I had an opportunity to leave him behind. To dump him and go by myself..." He looked down into his lap and mumbled: "I didn't take it. I figured it was too late to figure out how to do things by myself." He clenched and unclenched his fist, blaming himself for not making use of that opportunity as, in hindsight, it may have been a mistake. He looked up at me, with his slight pained frown, I just nodded to encourage him to continue. "We took a Suso 53 to Kenya, where there was a stealth plane waiting for us at the Preventer satellite base, which took us to a secret rendez-vous point in Ethiopia, where we were picked up by a helicopter. By then it was night and the helicopter dumped us into Lake Tana and we had to swim to the shore and get into Bahir Dar undetected. We had orders to lay still for twenty four hours. NGasi's scouts would come in and secure the city before bringing him to the hotel. Levelt was getting nervous, suggesting deviations from the mission." "What kind of deviations?" "He suggested to plant the explosives before NGasi would arrive. But then the scouts and security would have found them during their sweep. They are very thorough, they know there are several hits out on the senator." He fell silent again. "Continue. Please." He nodded. "NGasi arrived Saturday evening and we were supposed to plant the explosives during the night and set them off early in the morning. However, our intel had been incomplete. We had been told he would be alone, but we saw that he had his daughter with him. She left the next morning, so we decided to continue the mission, Ngasi would be in his penthouse suite all day. He is recovering from a knee operation that would not only insure he would stay inside, but made his chances of escape neglectable. It was the prefect chance... and we blew it..." "What happened? How did you proceed?" I formed a technical tone, noting how Heero two approached it distantly and officially, speaking out loud what he might have written in an professional report of the mission. "We entered the building through the roof as soon as the girl left. We had to hurry because we didn't know if she would be back. We set the highest charge first and then worked our way down, three consecutive floors. Levelt set the charges while I stood guard. I should have helped him, he was nervous, but someone had to stand guard." He looked at me expectantly. I nodded, agreeing with him. This seemed to ease his mind a little. "He was scared too," Heero continued, "it affected him detrimentally. His expert knowledge of explosives was supposed to make up for his lack of experience, but his fear made his knowledge fail. He was fumbling and it took him twice as long." Heero said accusingly, but laced in his voice was the hint of pain and guilt. "When he was finally done with the last charge, I cleared the hallway and went back to the storage room to get him. We weren't out the door of the room more than a few feet when the last charge went off." Heero stopped, breathing deeply, the sound of his persistent wheeze as his broken ribs agitated his lungs filled the air between us. I listened to the eerie sound, feeling Goosebumps on my skin and a cold sweat in my palms. I allowed him his time, not rushing him, becoming more sensitive to how emotional it must be for him to open up and talk about this. Also becoming more appreciative of the fact that he did it anyway, for me. "The force of the blast blew out the wall between the storage room and the hallway where we were and threw us both against the other wall of the hallway, which was reinforced concrete and wouldn't budge. When I hit it, my shoulder budged, it dislocated and I hit my head. I don't even remember falling back to the floor. I lost consciousness only momentarily. When I woke up I realized that falling into the debris scattered on the floor had damaged my left leg and the padding of my earphone had caught fire in the blast and was burning in my ear. I tried to take it out with my right hand, but that whole arm didn't work, it just hurt, I couldn't move it and I couldn't reset it, a nerve must have been caught at the dislocation. I rose to my feet and then realized that my left leg was as useless as my right arm." I let all the information sink in, picturing the injuries on his body that I had tended to multiple times. Finally everything made sense and though I was difficult listening to how he got wounded, it was good to finally understand where all the cuts and burns originated from. "What about Levelt?" I asked when I noticed he needed encouragement to continue on. "He was lying a few feet away from me." He stopped and cast his gaze downwards, shielding his telltale orbs with the thick black lashes framing them, he needed a brief moment to compose himself before he dared to continue. "He was unconscious and badly injured. I limped over to him. I knew we had little time. They would be looking for us. I tried to wake him, but he was unconscious. I had to get us out of there but I couldn't carry him. I was too injured and he was too heavy." I nodded, remembering the impressively tall and broad form of the agent. I doubted that Heero would have been able to carry him even in good health, in spite of his awe-inspiring strength. Dead-weight was the heaviest and the man was huge and Heero, in comparison, so tiny. I decided it was better not to bring that up at the moment. I did realize that in her lack of field experience Une had made a mistake of which I'm sure Heero tried to inform her, but she wrongfully dismissed. It was a rule that, as individually assigned Gundam Pilots, was of little concern to us, but was brought to our awareness either way: Partners or team members should always be able to carry each other out in case of emergency, the smallest guy on the team must be able to carry the biggest. It's a rule that, in a team effort, could save lives. "It's not your fault." I offered, even though I knew it wouldn't be enough to convince him. "Please, continue." "I tried to drag him. But that was hard too, I could only use one arm and one leg and the debris on the floor only made him harder to move. I don't think I had got him ten yards from where he fell when the charge on the floor above us went off. This was the biggest charge, it was supposed to mimic the main, initial gas explosion." He released a trembling breath, his frown continued to deepen. "The floor above us gave out and fell on top of us. The bulk of it missed me, but the force had blown out a support beam and it had landed across Levelt's pelvis. He was moaning very loudly. I guess the pain had woken him up. I covered his mouth till he had quieted down. His pelvis was shattered on impact, paralyzing him and causing internal bleeding. Medical help was hours away, he had only minutes. Still, I tried to lift the beam... but it was massive. I couldn't! It was massive!" He said as though he needed to convince me, suddenly raising his voice. "I know, it's okay. You tried everything." I reached across the table and took his hand in mine. "So I just sat there." In his eyes was the darkness of self-loathing. "I just sat there. I didn't feel anything, I didn't think anything. I didn't know what to do..." He whispered. I squeezed his hand, in vain trying to comfort him. "I saw Levelt... moving... He reached for his gun. I got mine out too, I thought he had heard something I hadn't, but then he brought the gun to his head and aimed it at himself... and he started crying." The lost look Heero must have had on his face at that moment returned to him as he imagined the scene while he was sitting with me at our kitchen table, his hand in mine. "He kept saying that he couldn't. He said it over and over till he suddenly went quiet and looked at me." Heero clenched his eyes shut. He tried to control his emotions. For a long time he just breathed, erratically at first, panicked, but eventually it evened out to the controlled rhythm I was familiar with and he continued: "He said: "I can't, but you can" and he let go of his own gun and reached for the barrel of mine and pointed it at his forehead." All of a sudden Heero's face went blank as he shut out all of the feelings, his eyes slightly turned away from me, his mouth open in breath, detached from the realness and pain of the story, he finished: "He said that he knew I could do it. I pulled my gun free from his limp grip. I stood up, stood by his head. I aimed it at his head and I... discharged a single bullet." He looked at me again, his expression confused and pained. "I killed him." The words formed a constriction around my chest that made my heart clench and feel tight and made it hard to breathe. I was overwhelmed with emotions and memories. The sights of every person I had ever killed - engraved in my retina, my consciousness as well as my heart - flashed before me and it was no challenge to empathize with what he felt. I realized, then, the gravity of the situation. I had to push my own jumbled mess of thoughts and feelings aside, so I could be there for him and tell him that everything would be okay. Because that's what you do, not because I would ever expect him to believe me. I had expected tears to flow, but he wouldn't let them. I felt his hand trembling in my hold, trembling with emotions his face couldn't show. I knew there was more. I knew he felt more than he was revealing. It scared and worried me that he couldn't, or wouldn't show me everything. Much was left confined, bottled up inside, treasured by the darkness of the Perfect Soldier. "How did you escape?" He was grateful for the distraction. "I knew my best chance was best back to the roof and use the cable to the building next to it, we had used for our entry. I went back up the stairs and... I saw the girl. She had come back. She was all alone... I couldn't leave her there and I couldn't take her across the cable with me. I took her downstairs." I fought a sympatric smile, soothed by knowing that he did the right thing, Perfect Soldier or not. "The guards were outside. As soon as I gave her to them they opened fire, but only managed to hit me twice. I went back into the hotel and used my planned escape route. The building collapsed only moments later, the guards must have figured I was still inside, because they didn't come looking for me. I hid. I couldn't call for back up because I had taken off my ear piece, with the microphone attached, when the padding was burning my ear. I only had the receiver left so I turned it off and on in the pattern of a distress call." "Morse code." "Yeah." "I identified it." My pride may have been misplaced, but it was out there before I could stop it. "No one at the HQ even recognized it." "They use a different code. But I had neglected to study it." "What about Levelt?" I asked when I noticed his eyes were going blank and his face emotionless and it scared me. An uncertain gaze was cast my way, with fumbling voice he completed: "I left him there... I took off his dog tags and ripped all Preventer logo's off his uniform." He seemed to shrink in his seat, disappearing, or at least wanting to. His bangs fell heavily over his eyes, but I caught him peering through them. There was a question in his eyes but I couldn't read it. I rubbed my thumb over his hand, soothingly, I hope. The corners of his mouth turned down and the frown between his brow was deep and troubled. "I did something else too." He said and his voice was thick with a childlike fear of failure - of never being good enough. My thumb stilled, my whole body seemed to freeze, afraid of what he might say. I waited breathless for him to continue. His lower lip was caught by the white incisors. "I..." He grunted, like he was annoying himself with his inadequacy of sharing. "I tried to say a prayer for him." My mouth opened, stunned, but I kept quiet, wondering what more he would say. He shook his head. "I just thought I should say something, in case God does exist... Levelt believed he does. That is more important than what I think, right?" I didn't say anything. I was... awed. Awed into silence. "But I don't know if I did it right." He finished, ducking his head shamefully between his shoulders. "What did you say?" A whisper was all I could manage, emotions spilling from the heart and caught in the throat. "I made a cross and I said: "He believed You exist because he was blessed with a family and his family was blessed with him. I hope You do indeed exist and offer them all comfort and peace, now that they are apart. Until they meet again in Heaven."... Was that good?" he leaned in to observe me closely. I smiled at him, it seemed to relieve him, I felt his hand relax, the tension leaving him. "Yeah, that was good. I'm sure Levelt is grateful for your words." "I'm sure he would have been more grateful if I hadn't shot him." Heero spoke bitterly. I shook my head and squeezed his hand, made him look up at me. "No, I think he was grateful for that too." I imagined the scene, a dusty hallway bathed in orange desert sunlight, two black clad men, injured and fallen, trapped, bound to be discovered by the enemy. I saw Heero standing up, over the large man's body and I saw the force go through his body as his gun fired, shaking his arms and swaying his torso. Dust flying up and settling over a pool of dark red blood. I forced the picture from my mind and offered him a genuine smile, albeit one tainted with sadness. "Do you really think he is in heaven?" "You know I don't believe in God. Heaven is just an excuse people tell themselves to feel better about losing a loved one." He sounded very rational and analytical, but at the same time; unconvinced. "I think he is in heaven." I said, with a curt, decisive nod. "That's not logical. There is no proof heaven exists. It's just an idea, a feeling, something people agree on without being able to see or touch it." The soldier argued. "You might say it's a lot like love." His mouth became a thin line in thought. I didn't know if I had just made a valid argument for the existence of heaven or if I had made him more skeptical to the concept of love. I was no experienced preacher on either of the two subjects, I found them equally confusing but believing in their existence brought me hope. Hope needed to sustain life. "Thank you for telling me." "Can you be angry with me now?" He asked with a challenging tone. I narrowed my eyes at him. "Why do you want me to get angry?" He shrugged, unwilling to relent his secrets. "Bullshit." My voice was suddenly loud in the modest quiet we had been sharing. "If you didn't know why, you wouldn't keep asking." His hand retreated from mine and disappeared under the tabletop, his gaze followed, preoccupied with his lap, his whole presence seemed to be drawing away from me but though it appeared he had shut me out and ignored me, I knew by the tension in his body that he was acutely aware of me and all his senses but his sight closely focused on my being. "You have the right to be angry." Damn straight, I thought, but wisely kept my mouth shut, awaiting more hesitant utters from the young man across the table. "You have the right to yell at me, to hate me... to hit me." He looked up at me, his face strong. My deep frown shadowed the shocked look in my eyes. "You know I would never hit you. Not like that. Not for punishment." I said as I remembered my fist impacting his gundanium cheekbone nearing the climax of the Mariemeia conflict. He looked at me like he didn't understand, I detested that, for it made me pity him and I shouldn't pity him, it was wearing on my heart, like watching a heartwrenching movie over and over again. I sighed. "You should go back to bed, you look tired." I rose aiming to help him out of his seat but he fought off my hand with his last strength. Finally he roughly pushed me back with his left hand when I wouldn't relent. "What?" I demanded, flustered by his stubborn defiance. "Why won't you just get angry with me?" His voice was loud, nearing a high pitched scream, he looked desperate and confused, gazing up at me with his piercing blue eyes as they begged me, but for what I did not see. "I just don't feel it right now." I tried to explain, honestly confused by his desire to draw rage forth from me. "You got angry with Quatre!" He accused as though he was jealous. "Hell yeah I got angry with him!" I shot back, not having the faintest clue where this seemingly pointless argument was headed. "You always yell at Quatre and then you are friends again, you said so yourself!" "Heero-" I tried to soothe him when I noticed the pain and anguish in his beautiful eyes as he struggled in vain to make sense of everything. "I just want you to yell at me so you would stop looking at me like that!" "Like what?" His lower lip quivered but he bit down on it hard to immobilize it. No tears fell but his eyes shone like never before and I could see my own pitiful reflection in them. "Like you don't love me anymore!" Wow. Was my most eloquent thought. I took a few deep breaths as pregnant silence stretched between us like an infinity of space. Like in slow-motion I kneeled down by his chair and placed reverent hands on his knees and I confessed to him in quiet, sincere voice: "I love you more now, than I have ever loved you. And I know that even though it doesn't seem possible, even to me, I will love you even more tomorrow. And that will never stop." I chuckled at my own uncharacteristic romantics, but then smiles, knowing the words were true. I reached up to gently touch his lips with my fingers and make him release his lower lip from his teeth. I wiped away the drop of blood that was there. "Heero Yuy. You make it very hard for someone to get angry with you." I chuckled and felt my heart warm when he was too late in suppressing the beginning of a slight, embarrassed smile. I widened my own smile, in the hope of having it reflected on his face, but he remained in control and made even the sliver of a smile he sported disappear. With a deep breath I straightened up and eased him out of the chair. I held him close to me, pressing his body against mine, feeling his warmth and his breathing. I supported him with one arm and with my free hand I brushed dark locks of hair out of his face, exposing his impressive blue orbs to the light. "It's difficult to love you. It's impossible not to love you." And again he amazed me, proving me right further. He leaned his head on my shoulder and brought his left arm up slowly to wrap it around my neck. He was hugging me. He felt stiff and uncomfortable in my arms, his embrace was awkward, his left hand tense on my shoulder, not knowing where to settle, or how long to settle. "Let's get you back to bed." I said softly in his burned ear when my own arms started to tremble from supporting his weight. I handed him his crutch, but kept my hand on his lower back, needy for the contact and aware of his current physical shortcomings. I made him go to the bathroom again and brush his teeth, he objected like a young child, the young child he never was. His reflection in the mirror above the bathroom sink was unmistakably chagrin as he tiredly moved his hand back and forth, toothpaste foaming in his mouth. I realized, looking at him - whilst he stubbornly avoided my gaze - , mulling over the impressive story he had shared with me, the anger had been lost in me. I searched in every dark crevasse of myself but none of the rage that had been seething there just this afternoon was left, it had quietly dissipated during our conversation - during his monumental speech - and now all that was left for my soul search to come up with was the rational idea that I should be angry, but it went unaccompanied by the feeling. His words had been like a band aid over my bleeding heart that had smothered all hateful accusations of lies and betrayal. All I wanted was for him to tell me more, tell me everything, to keep on talking, even about the things I probably shouldn't want to know. Interrupting him with angry tirades seemed detrimental to the process. Furthermore I realized there were no ill intentions to blame, only a lacking, ignorant understanding of social conduct for which I should jab insults at J, not at Heero. A sense of peace washed over me that seemed to cure all aches and pains in my body. By no means was everything magically solved, Heero and I both had problems, individually as well as interpersonally, but at least now I discovered from the knotted mess my true feelings about that: Not anger, but hopeful determination. It was a relief to finally know and to be free of anger. Silently, secretly, I prided my young and bruised ego for with-holding the anger that had seemed all consuming, because now it just felt childish and petty. We inched back into the bedroom where I lay him down and covered him with his sheets. He complained about the discomfort of the braces. I shushed him motherly and reminded him that he shouldn't move the joints, not even in sleep. Heero argued that he never moves in his sleep, but he stopped himself when he caught my look. I was clearly immovable on the subject. Even he could tell. I went through the paces of my own nighttime ritual and then settled in my own bed, flicking off the lights. I didn't expect any more words to come from him, he had already massively exceeded his soldier imposed "word quota" for the day, but he continued to surprise me, chiseling away at the barrier I had protectively built around myself these last few days, effectively rendering it useless. "I didn't not tell you for the reason you think." I frowned. That's a large preposition if I ever heard one. How could anyone, especially someone as untalented in reading other people such as Heero Yuy - aptly dubbed the Perfect Soldier, with emphasis on soldier - possible presume to know what I thought? His assertion annoyed me a little, but I inwardly chuckled at the pathetic weakness of the emotion. With a sigh I inquired: "What do you think I think?" "I don't know." I propped my head on my elbow and peered at him through the layered darkness, barely able to make out his silhouette. "Then why did you...?" I let my question go unfinished. It seemed obvious and was almost a waste of words to fully spell it out. "I know you don't know my reason not because I know your reason but because I know you don't know my reason." My left eyebrow twitched as my face displayed the most ridiculous expression of bafflement. "What? I..." I threw my hand in the air and plopped back down on the mattress. "You really are trying to get me angry, aren't you?" "I just don't understand why you wouldn't be angry, why you aren't asking me more questions. It's confusing, because-" He abruptly stopped and let silence resume as if he didn't just cut his sentence short. "Because what?" I heard him moving, his sheets ruffling, his bed creaking ever so softly. When I cast a sideways glance, I saw he had sat up in bed. "Because what?" I repeated, curious. "Because if you would lie to me... I think I would be very upset." "Yeah?" "Yes. But I never wanted to make you upset, in fact by not telling you I wanted to achieve the opposite." "You didn't want to worry me." I presumed. "No." I felt him looking at me. "I didn't want to disappoint you." I sat upright as well, looking at his black form intently, wishing I could see his face, but somehow, for some reason, I figured it would do the progress of the conversation no good if I were to turn on the light. I feared that it would scare him and rupture the confidence the anonymity of the darkness allowed him and made it easier to open up to me. I waited for him to continue, knowing that he would. He had been uncharacteristically talkative. "You've been trying so hard to help me be normal... But still, all I'm good for is fighting. Killing is the only thing I can be trusted with..." I saw his hand move, it touched his face. I knew better than to allow myself to believe that he was wiping away a tear. "Even Levelt knew that." He bitterly finished. The carpeted floor between our beds may as well have been the Grand Canyon, despite the intimacy of the conversation, Heero seemed so far away. Too far away. Without much thought, relying on my feelings, I pushed the sheets away and stepped out of my bed. I crossed the distance to him slowly, allowing him time to let me know if he rejected or accepted the closeness. As he didn't move, I trusted I was granted access into his personal space. The mattress dipped beneath my weight as I sat down behind him and positioned one of my legs on either side of him. I rested my hands loosely on my own thighs but leaned my chin on his left, unharmed, shoulder, careful not to cause friction with the burned skin of his ear shell. His whole body was tense, I waited for him to relax before I spoke. "You were right." I muttered. "That wasn't the reason that I thought." He turned his head slightly, so his cheek, rather than his ear, was near my mouth. I instinctively placed a light kiss on his cheek. His muscles tensed briefly, but with a sigh he slumped against me, his back against my chest. Encouraged, I wrapped one arm loosely around his waist, careful not to prod any injuries. "I was disappointed, but not because it meant fighting is all you are good for. That is not true. I was disappointed only because you didn't tell me. To me, it communicated that you didn't think I would understand. And I was sad, to think that maybe you didn't trust me, or that you were shutting me out of your life, creating this second life for yourself that you didn't want me to be a part of. I was angry for a long time too, but that was just byproduct of the other things I felt. I was angry, sad and disappointed, all this time, until tonight. Because you were honest with me... and... the things you said, made up for a lot of the things you didn't say at first." "What things did I say?" He asked with his familiar, confused and curious voice. I smiled. "Just things." He sighed, frustrated that I obviously wasn't going to tell him, wondering how he would ever be perfect at being normal without clear instructions and feedback. But I knew that he would have to struggle through some things himself. I didn't want him to feel like I was controlling him, reshaping him into something he is not, but presuming it to be the way - the only way - I desired him. He may never be perfect. I had long accepted that, as I had long accepted to be far from perfect myself. I hoped he knew that regardless, I would love him the way he was, on the condition that he would be honest with me. I wasn't sure how long it would take for the trust between us to be restored. I still felt like it was damaged, trust was a more complicated restoration than to be done with a conversation, not matter how honest and heartfelt. But even though my trust was shaken, I had to have confidence that it would return to us. "But Heero," I started, returning to my warning God of Death tone of voice, "Don't ever lie to me again."
|
