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"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 "
The clock ticked and I tapped my finger on the surface of my desk in rhythm with it, my gaze tracking the cumbersome, slow motions of the long hand of the clock. It crawled like it was fighting against time, instead of merely indicating it. The teacher's words were a distant murmur, indistinct and incoherent. He might as well be a lawnmower, a washing machine or a jet engine. I was thinking about Heero, but pretended not to. I carried a heavy frown on my forehead to uphold the illusion that I was giving the complicated chemistry formula on the blackboard my best cognitive efforts. In reality a fleeting glance was no more it took me to identify the parts and bring them together as a whole. In large quantities it makes a big boom, in tiny quantities, as the teacher was about to demonstrate, it just made huff of a smoke and would elicit gasps of surprise and giggles, rather than screams of terror and agony. I looked down at my hand, which had been irritating the sheet of paper in front of me with the tip of my pen. Amongst the non-discriminate doodles and something that could possibly be chicken, there was Heero's name, nearly carved into the paper with the black ink. It looked more like the paper bled his name in oil. "Maxwell!" The sudden exclamation of my name startled me. I jostled upright in my seat, my pen went flying somewhere. In the back, someone not important went: "Ow." "Maxwell," The chemistry teacher repeated, closing in on me through the aisles of desks and students turned backwards in their seats, "surely you know what chemical we end up with if we mix these four." He gestured back at the board. "Uh..." Before I could even sputter something, he was right next to me and he said: "I'm sure you know, show me your notes." He was smiling, confident that his prodigy student knew the right solution. His smile started to vanish as he fought me for my notes, finally tearing the paper out of my hand, ending up with the more incriminating part of it. A scowl settled on him. "Though it would be a thrilling magic trick, I don't think when I add this final component, a pigeon will come flying out of the glass." He squinted at the paper. "What's Hero? With two E's..." "That's Duo's boyfriend, sir." Danny, who shared this class with me, spoke up. His eyes were kind but his tone was venomous enough to kill small livestock, unhinge his jaw and swallow it whole. "Oh." The teacher seemed perplexed and he struggled for words as he was obviously left uncomfortable and witless in the situation. Luckily for him, he was saved, not by the bell, but by my cell phone, which gave him the escape to the well rehearsed: "No cell phones allowed in the classroom!" But I paid him no heed, his order was useless, he might as well not have wasted any breath on his loud, stereotypical bark. In a heartbeat I had my phone to my ear and hurried out of the classroom without excusing myself. My heart rate was furious and anxious. As I pressed the door shut behind me, I realized I had never received a call on this phone before. It felt like an emergency, like the calls I - all us Gundam pilots - used to get. Une's voice sounded familiar across the line, like an old friend, but she spoke in a tone you never wish to have a good friend speak to you. After her introduction and prompt apology she allowed for an ominous stretch of silence. "You'd better get over here." She finally spoke vaguely. "Why? What has happened?" I felt panicked. I sounded panicked. Une responded with calming words. "Heero's is fine, don't worry, he's fine." "But?" I hurried her along as she stalled again. "His physical therapist is currently in our hospital wing, having his broken jaw tended to..." She continued. "I'll be right there." I said, noting how much I sounded like my old self, when I accepted another hazardous mission from G, or tagged along with Heero down suicide lane. There was no hesitation, only determination. With my wallet and keys in the back pocket of my jeans, I saw no need to accept the confrontation with the fuming, disappointed chemistry teacher, nor the prying eyes of my Gossiper Anonymous classmates to gather my belongings, so before the teacher could reel me back, I sprinted down the hallway. My feet carried me to the train station faster than they had ever taken me anywhere. In the train I felt my phone buzzing in my back pocket, accompanied by a cheesy, standard, monotone jingle. I checked the first time and I noticed it was Sookie, probably wondering why I hadn't shown up for the next class by then. I didn't answer it. This was Gundam Wing business and I was a Gundam Wing pilot again, that went with forsaking some of the luxuries that are granted an everyday person; such as the comforting words of a friend. It rang again. It was Sookie again. I didn't answer again. When I ignored the third call, my stomach started to hurt, yet I still did not answer at the fourth attempt. Just as the train halted at the appropriate station, the calls stopped and I forgot all about them, shoving the pesky feeling of guilt away. Like a racehorse being released from the holding area at the firing of a gun, I pushed through the doors of the train before they had even fully opened, squeezing myself through the narrow opening. Momentarily disoriented by the alternative arrival platform, I used the signs to guide me down the paths and ended up at the glass doors of the Preventer HQ. It took no more than an angry glare to an unknown receptionist to get a visitor's key card to activate the elevator. I was expected. Waiting as the elevator climbed, I felt like I was being summoned to a high court meeting. I shared the same dread that I presumed seasoned felons and criminals of war felt when approaching their sentencing. I shrugged the feeling off, casual as you please. The doors opened to a floor I didn't recognize. At the end of a long, brown colored hallway, I spotted the most miserable looking boy ever. With a wrenching of my heart, I approached him. He made eye contact with me as soon as he noticed my presence nearing him through the stretched corridor. They were intense as they always were, but not intense with strength and passion but intense with frustration and anger. I couldn't look away from him. His strong hands had taken me by the shoulders and he was drowning me in the cobalt blue sea that was him. "Duo?" I jerked my head to the side and frowned at doctor Nettle. I hadn't even seen her. She was sitting in the plastic chair next to Heero, her eyes were unreadable. "Do you mind waiting back there?" With a fine, feminine hand she vaguely gestured at a door I passed way back near the elevator. "Yes, as a matter a fact I do mind." I bit, glaring at her like the master taught me how to. She was completely unimpressed with my furious gaze, either because I had yet to reach a respectable skill level or she just couldn't be bothered. I ignored her as I realized I should. I turned my gaze towards Heero and molded it into something questioning and concerned. "What happened?" "I punched the physical therapist." He stated, much like I - just yesterday - announced that I had bought a new carton of milk. I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "Yeah! Why?" "Duo," Nettle interrupted the starting of Heero's explanation, "if you would-" "Would you just shut the hell up?" I blurted. "What are you even doing here? Aside from the fact that you are paid by the hour..." Her lips tightened, I had insulted her. "I am here," she spoke all high-horsy, "because Heero just had a psychological break through." I snorted. Loud. It just erupted out of me, as did: "Break through? Him socking a guy is a break through? Then what is even your purpose? Heero hits people all the time!" From my peripheral vision I noticed Heero looking away, his eyes shadowing over by his lids lowering his dark eyelashes over them. "I didn't mean..." I whispered, but I had nothing sensible to say. "Not by his own personal motivation." "So your objective is to turn him into an ill-tempered, ill-inhibited Ultimate fighter?" She sighed, obviously annoyed with me and trying to explain herself to me. I didn't make any retorts to her sighing and grunting though, as without further ado she rose to her high heeled feet and promptly walked away. "She doesn't like you." Heero said. "Well, the feeling is mutual." I grumbled and took the seat that Nettle previously occupied, placing a hand on Heero's thigh. He looked at me, first a little shocked at the unanticipated contact, but then he relaxed. His lips parted, like he was about to say something, but his tongue lingered in silence. "Why did you hit your therapist?" I asked with a hushed tone. He shrugged defensively. "He annoyed me." "Why?" Heero sighed and he looked down at his knee, still immobilized in the bulky brace. "He keeps slowing me down. I feel like there is not progress. It doesn't hurt anymore, it's just stiff, I need exercise but he just has me bending and stretching!" "Heero, you're making great progress! Look at you, you are already out of the sling and walking without a crutch! It's only been four weeks!" "It's not helping! Nothing is helping!" He yelled angrily, surprising me with his outburst. "Oh... So, I'm guessing this isn't just about physical therapy." I inquired. "Nettle is not doing anything. She's not helping. She's just like that therapist, she isn't doing anything! She's not helping me change!" I moved my hand from his thigh to his shoulder, rubbing my thumb in gentle circles. I searched for eye contact, but he stubbornly refused, with his gaze cast down at the linoleum floor. "Heero..." A sad smile came to me. "Heero, the goal was never to change you, just to help you accept yourself. No one wants you to be anyone other than you." "I do." He said and he looked at me with pitiful eyes. "I don't." "I'm not normal Duo. Sometimes I feel like I'm not even human. She needs to make me normal." His voice was almost a whisper. "You have proven your humanity to me time and time again." I tried to convince him. "But you are absolutely right, you are not normal. You are special. Why would you want to change that?" "Is special not being able to sleep with the window open? Is special never having your back turned to the nearest exit? Is special not knowing how to shake people's hand?" "I can help you with those things." I held my hand out between us and smiled as he looked at it in confusion. "Shake my hand then." He glanced up at me questioning and I just waited patiently. Finally, after studying my hand from several angles and retrieving information on how to complete the task in perfection, he wrapped his hand around mine and he shook it three times, slightly and curtly. Then he released my hand and looked at me expectantly, his expression nearly fearful as he sought feedback. "Good. One down." "Many to go..." I shrugged and offered him a genuine smile. I wasn't phased, nor discouraged, but I didn't know how I could convince him. I saw in his eyes the struggle of his mind. I wished, more than anything, for him to be at peace with himself, but I knew we were long strides removed from that destination, being that he didn't even know who he was and who he was supposed to be, caught in a tug of war between the obsessive urge to be perfect - the Perfect Soldier - and the childlike desire to be normal. I leaned in a planted a chaste kiss on his cheek. He remained unmoved, staring at the marble pattern in the linoleum. "Heero..." He gaze was redirected and pinned me down. I was confronted with naked fear in the pools of his eyes. A fear of his own depth, of sinking in it. "Let's go home." He nodded in agreement. I rose first and helped him to his feet, he didn't hesitate to accept the support of my outstretched hand. He limped down the hallway next to me, sometimes our shoulders brushed. Even the smallest physical contact with him affected me deeply and multi-dimensionally. So it is no wonder the hairs on the back of my neck were electrified and stood on end when halfway down the corridor I felt warm fingers tentatively search for grip on my limp hand swinging at my side in rhythm with my steps. At his shy nudging, I sealed the deal more confidently, firmly taking his hand in mine, wrapping my fingers around his. I felt the frailty in his slim digits. I knew I had to be the strong one from now on, like he had been the strong one throughout the war. He saw me through, he saw us all through, now he is the one who needs to be pulled along and I would oblige without hesitation. I would carry him if I must, for however long it would take. Love is a source of strength that never exhausts. In the lobby the meekly voiced receptionist informed me Une wished to speak to me, but I told her I had more important things to do at the moment and to relay the message. The car was waiting for us, as Heero was always chauffeured around on behalf of the Preventers. At home I told Heero to go to bed, he looked tired. My suspicion was confirmed when he didn't argue with me and soundlessly crawled under the thin sheets of his bed. I let him sleep till dinner, cheating by ordering in. The informal setting of dinner suited me, on the couch with our plates in our laps as we both sat with our feet propped up on the coffee table and a stand-up comedian on the TV blurting rude and provocative things to receive laughter from a faceless audience. Even though maybe I shouldn't laugh, he made my lips crack into a smile occasionally. I threw quick, sideway glances at Heero, who was staring at the screen analytically. Of course he did not laugh or smile. Firstly because he just doesn't, secondly because the double innuendo of most wise-cracking was completely lost on him. The comedian's encore was interrupted by the obnoxious ringing of our telephone, with a grumble that sounded suspiciously much like an obscene curse I got up and answered it. "Duo." I hated it when people use my name as a manner of greeting, but I had long surrendered to this pet peeve of mine. "Une." I flatly retorted. "The receptionist informed me you were too busy to meet with me." "Well, Une, I lead full and fulfilling life." "How is Heero?" I frowned, looking back at the sad boy sitting curled up on the couch, staring at the screen with desperate eyes in a final attempt to see the humor in the seemingly random string of topics. "Why would you ask? I should ask you about your therapist." But I don't because I don't care, I admitted to myself. "He'll be fine. But I think it is best to terminate the partnership." "Ya think?" I replied dryly. "We'll find him a different therapist." "Don't. Heero and I will handle it ourselves. Your therapists don't understand his body." "Oh and you do?" She asked sarcastically. A grin crept to my lips and the outer shell of my ears got flushed. "I understand his body perfectly." Heero looked at me and quirked one eyebrow. I waved off his questioning stare but of course he kept looking at me, studying me. "I do hope you are not considering quitting the other therapy as well." I sighed. "Well, so far it has had disappointingly little effect. None, to be specific." "Give it time. You expect too much too soon. You must know healing a state of mind takes longer than healer a wounded body. Even when it concerns Heero." "Especially when it concerns Heero." I whispered into the receiver. Her deep sigh came through like garble across the line. "Exactly. And in light of today's events, I am even more convinced it is useful for Heero to continue seeing Nettle." "Look, let's not blow this out of proportion. We both know the injury isn't representative for what actually transpired. He just got impatient with the slow progress of the therapy." "That is not what I heard." "Oh God." I closed my eyes, feeling a sudden headache. "I dread to ask, but: what have you heard?" She sought for politically correct and professional wording. "There was a case of physical contact that was perceived as inappropriate by one of the two parties involved." "Inappropriate?" I asked in a hushed, but demanding tone, cupping my hand around my mouth and the receiver. I saw Heero reposition himself on the couch, but pretending not to be eavesdropping. "Apparently to adjust his range of motion the therapist's hand wondered a little too far up Heero's thigh to Heero's liking. The account from there on forth is hazy, as the blow didn't only break his jaw, but knocked him unconscious as well. I had hoped Heero would have some answers for me." "He doesn't." My fixed gaze on Heero's face turned into a glare. I watched his own expression change; realization, then shame. "Not for you." I continued curtly. "It's time for me to get some answers, instead of being locked out of the loop again." I promptly hung up the phone, barely catching the last of her incoherent sputtering. "That was Une." I told him. "You didn't tell me the whole story." "It didn't seem important." He defended, but from his expression I could tell he was unconvinced even by his own words. "Nothing really happened, it was just an accident to which I overreacted." I snorted, approaching him and dropping my suddenly heavy body down on the couch close to his. "I don't like this Heero. I don't like you keeping things from me and keeping me out of the loop. All these things are happening that you don't tell me about. Each time I discover something, I just can't stop thinking what other secrets there are, or just stories you've shared with others and not with me." "You're talking about my therapy with Nettle." He opted carefully, unsure. "That's part of it." "I told you, I don't tell her much. Nothing important." "Yeah, so you keep saying... but obviously our definitions of "important" differ. What happened today was important, why didn't you tell me about it?" "I guess..." His teeth grasped his lower lip tightly. "I guess I'm afraid." "Afraid?" "Afraid of what questions you will ask." He bit his lip again but caught himself in the act and stopped himself. "Nettle's questions are easy, because they are about my missions, but mostly... because I don't care what she thinks of the truth. But I also hide things from her, because I can't tell her things that you don't know about. That doesn't feel right." His eyes searched mine and in them I saw the turmoil, as always the emotions were being restrained by the grip of the soldier, but I could tell he was moved. "Then tell me. Answer my questions." He shook his furiously, squeezing his eyes shut. "There are hideous truths to me that I fear will drive you away." I instantly answered, for there were no second thoughts necessary: "The truth will never drive me away. Only lies and secrets carry that threat." "I do want to tell you things, I'm just not sure if I want you to know those things." He frowned and shook his head, his bangs swaying. "That doesn't make any sense." "It does, actually." I comforted him. "I don't understand it." He admitted in clear frustration. "That's okay. You will." We shared a silence together for a long time. My hands sought for his in his lap and held them loosely, feeling the warmth of his thigh seep through my skin at where my arms rested on his legs. After some careful consideration, I started cautiously: "Maybe... maybe we should start our own therapy sessions." He looked at me sharply, a hint of fear in his eyes that was evident in the tension freezing his entire body. "For every thing you share with Nettle, however unimportant you may deem it, you share something with me. It doesn't have to be the same thing, it doesn't have to be important, just tell me whatever you want to tell me. And then once you've told me, you can feel free in sharing it with Nettle." I didn't like the prospect of her getting to know everything I would, but I was honored by his shy admission that telling her things before me didn't feel right. It made me feel more secure, a more firm and solid part of him and subsequently confident enough to encourage him to share with Nettle even his darkest secrets, as I maintained hope she could provide him with better help on many subjects than I could. The suggestion appeared to be highly confrontational to him and his gaze sought refuge in the fringe of the carpet. For lasting seconds I stood my ground and waited quietly for him to come to terms with the idea, but as the seconds stretched to minutes my palms started to sweat and my stomach started to coil. And even though I knew better, I stuttered a way out for him through my lips. "Or not... I mean... whatever. Whatever you want." "I don't want to." He was quick to say, still enthralled by the woven threads of the carpet. "But I think I must." He said "think" but he meant "fear". His voice was more adapt at subtleties than he knew, being that the soldier was deaf to them. I smiled. I felt proud of him. I told him so. He shot his gaze towards me like an arrow aimed at my chest. I felt pain in my heart as I felt myself being stabbed by their pathetic, honest, raw emotion of self doubt and self loathing. I couldn't do anything for him other than intensify my smile, hoping to brighten some of his darkness with it. His expressive eyes cowered in the shadow of his thick lashes, creating an impenetrable glaze equivalent to the fortified walls of a stronghold. Retreating into the secluded safety of himself, some of the tension left his body. I hated this. I hated this game of drawing him out only to see him scurry back inside again, into the fort of the soldier. Of all the hours in a day, Heero was mine too briefly, the Soldier's for too long. "Do you want to start now?" He monotone voice made me feel cold. "No. That is not up to me. It is up to you." He nodded but I could see the flash of despair, of not being guided, of not being told what to do. Freedom can be a frightful thing, Heero would concur. We passed the rest of the evening sharing the space but not sharing any words or looks. I was the one to announce time for bed when in the distance I heard a church bell chime twelve times. In the bedroom I kissed him goodnight, he followed my touch but I pulled away, distancing myself and crawling into my own bed. I had a lot to process, mostly I just dreaded the approaching end of my blissful ignorance. I needed to brace myself mentally, I expected to hear things that no one should hear, let alone go through. In the dead of the night I was tossing under the summer sheets with terrifying doubt. Was our relationship really going to improve by eliminating all of the secrets? Could we handle it as a couple? Could we handle it as individuals? My stomach twisted and knotted itself up into an aching ball. My eyes burned as I focused them on the white ceiling. My absent fingers toyed with the curtain, creating an interesting but sinister play of moonlight and shadows on the ceiling above. Somewhere between reality and a dream, consciousness and unconsciousness, in the split second that it took my eyelids to succumb to the exhaustion, a voice echoed, in the room or in my head: "Are you really certain you will still be able to love Heero once you know everything?" No answer resounded. The next day I went to school early to pick up my bag at Lost and Found and make excuses for my sudden absence at the administration desk. During first period Sookie and I shared a hushed conversation in the back of the class, behind the unwitting teacher's back. I apologized for ignoring her calls and gave her a slightly altered, indiscriminate explanation of the day before. She seemed intrigued by the proposal I had done and I felt compelled to clarify that whatever Heero would decide to share with me, would remain between the two of us. She was visibly disappointed to have her curiosity go unsatisfied, but she said she understood, though not being able to restrain herself from inquiring about a certain matter that had previously been kindly left in the dark. Knowing what she was referring to without neither of us using the actual word, I cast my gaze down, taking a few deep breaths. It was one of the things I dreaded knowing. "I don't know if he'll tell me. I guess I'm just along for the ride. He has all the control now." "That's gotta be hard..." She mused aloud. "Never knowing what's comin' and when it's comin'..." I agreed with her. It was hard. Hard enough to smother my own curiosity. An optimistic whisper in the back of my head offered the rosy picture that with all the horrendous things I have been imagining and attributing to him, the reality might turn out to be less spectacularly sordid. But that little meek whisper of optimism was quickly silenced by an overwhelming avalanche of "you know better than that", accompanied by the memory of Heero's story of the choke-bag and the clear image of him with his ever pained eyes. When Friday morning made my alarm go off in the shadowy dawn, long after I had already wakened, I had a sickening feeling in my gut. Today was another one of Heero's therapy sessions. The chauffeur would pick him up at noon as usual. I wondered with what horror tales he would return, suffered at the hand of the degenerate asshole that was J. Later that morning, after a quiet and awkward breakfast, I kissed him goodbye on his cheek and wished him good luck. He frowned at me but made no attempt to speak. The lessons of that day were completely fruitless, the people in the world absolutely non-existent, even during lunchtime Sookie's rambling faded to a murmur no more present or more attended to than the distant roar of the highway. She accepted my antisocial behavior due to an understanding of the circumstances and called over a friend from her French literature class to come sit with us in the grass and they lost themselves in talk about clothes and nail polish, as I lost myself in deeper thought. The day continued with me barely being a part of it. I didn't have many classes and with the teacher of the final period being sick, I was home even before Heero. I rummaged around the house, catching up on some of the cleaning and maintenance that I had let slide, too drained by my thoughts to make my hands work. I furiously dusted every surface, most of which still painfully empty, symptoms of an empty life. The swiftness of my motions set the white paper crane flying. It soared but only briefly. It soundlessly fell to the carpet, landing on it head. Luckily it had not been damaged by it's fall. I pinched two fingers around it's tail and lifted it back on his perch, in the shadow of the damaged bolt. "Duo." His voice startled me. Heero had crept into the apartment and stood right behind me. "You scared me." I admitted breathlessly, but smiled regardless. "Oh. I'm sorry." "No, don't worry, it's fine!" I shook my head. Why was there this discomfort between us? "How was therapy?" His eyes narrowed at my question but I couldn't read the orbs. "Do you want me to tell you something?" I sighed. "Heero, it's all up to you." He didn't say anything, he just walked away. I was frozen in the living room, staring at the doorway of our bedroom where he had left my line of sight. I fidgeted with the dust cloth in my hand. I blinked when he appeared in the doorway and he had that frown on his face, as he yet again struggled to understand something. "There is something I don't understand." He announced, pinning his gaze on me. "Oh?" I could be so eloquent. He hesitated, his mouth moving but no sound was produced. He looked away and pressed his lips into a taut line, his frown intensified. When he looked at me again, his eyes were dark with utter confusion. "I thought there were things you wanted to know. You asked about them. But then you stopped asking. And since Monday, you've been avoiding every form of conversation." I raised my eyebrows slightly, surprised to find him so observant of me. "I don't understand why you don't want to know anymore." The dust cloth absorbed the sweat that formed in my hot palms. "I'm scared." His frown switched between confusion and anger. "You said only secrets could drive you away." He bit, obviously hurt by my own apparent contradiction. "I know. I just fear what the truth will do to us. Monday night I started worrying, worrying that maybe we weren't strong enough to handle it. We're both inexperienced when it comes to stuff like this. I still want to know, but at the same time, I'm afraid." He blinked away an expression of perplexity. The conversation ended there, Heero walked off and mere minutes later I could hear the shower running. I rubbed the back of my neck with my hand, feeling a cold sweat there. I had been honest. Normally I saw things quite black and white. Honesty is good, dishonesty is bad. But maybe this time my honesty had been too brutal. I toyed with the end of my braid, remaining where I stood, in the middle of the living room. Thoughts stampeded through my head and then all of a sudden one of them separated from the herd and I frowned at myself. I walked over to the bathroom door. It was wide open. The bathroom was filled with a faint mist of steam, Heero's shape was blurred by the frosted texture of the shower curtain. He stilled when over the roar of the water he heard me calling out his name. I saw his silhouette turn, I couldn't see his eyes, just the vague angles of his face framed by a mop of dark brown hair. "Yes?" "You love me, right?" I started. Though the question seemed to confuse him, he answered curtly and decisively: "Yes." "Would you still love me if even the most horrible imaginings would turn out to be true?" I didn't even have to wait a heartbeat for his answer. "Yes." A relieved smile nearly split my face in two. Breathlessly I said: "Hurry up. We gotta talk." And I rushed out of the bathroom. Knowing that he loved me unconditionally strengthened my faith in the durability of the concept that is us. I knew that if Heero - faulted as he may be - could offer me such love without a moment's hesitation, I would be negligent as his partner to not be able to offer the same thing in return. I waited for him sitting in my regular chair at the dinner table. I didn't have to wait long. He had taken my order to be quick to heart and emerged casually - barely - dressed with his hair still wet, staining the shoulders and back of his open button-up shirt dark. Keeping cautious eyes on me he seated himself across from me and slowly worked his fingers to button up his shirt. "I'm ready." I said and molded my face into something serious and determined. "Whatever you want to tell me, I can handle it." I smiled and reached for one of his hands, three buttons short of completing his task. "We can handle it." He raised a single eyebrow at me. "What do you want to know?" "Anything. Everything. Whatever you want to tell me." Immediately I could tell from the look on his face that he would require more specific guidance than that. "Uh... the boy that Quatre mentioned... the uh... possible rape..." I suggested with soft voice, but I straightened my shoulders. I can handle this, I decided. "Those are actually the same story." He said. His eyes were narrow as they were focused on my face, desperately trying to read me. "Do you want to tell me the story?" "No." He answered decidedly. "Oh-" "But I will." He interrupted me. I took in a deep breath and offered him a slightly queasy smile. "Okay." His eyes narrowed further. Almost accusingly, he wondered: "Is there a version of the story that will change things between us?" I gave his question some thought, I didn't just want to blurt out the proper thing to say, I wanted to be honest with him, knowing that we both deserved each other honesty. Whereas Monday night a similar question had me fretting and sleepless, hearing it in his deep voice put everything into perspective and the answer was clear and indisputable, so much so it's crazy to think I ever doubted it. "No. Nothing can change the way I feel for you." His expression became more neutral, almost kind. "Promise?" My smile returned to me, I felt relieved knowing that I would indeed still love him, no matter what. I felt ready, I felt sturdy. I felt like a lighthouse in the rough open sea, confident that even the tallest, strongest wave could not topple me, because I've already been able to withstand them for so long. "I promise." Then the uncertainty came. "I don't know where to start." I empathized, knowing that it must be hard for him to have his secrets revealed. There was nothing I could say that would make him feel completely at ease. "Anywhere is fine." I encouraged him. "I don't remember his real name." Heero started, his eyes darting back and forth as if he was physically searching. "All I remember is that J called him Taichi, like I was called Heero. There were more of us, but I only remember Taichi, others left too soon to be remembered." "Others?" I asked when I noticed he struggled with how to continue. "Other trainees. I think we started out with seven of us." I raised my eyebrows, perplexed at the suggestion. "You mean trainees as in possible future Gundam pilots?" I wondered what happened to all of them. "Possible future Gundam Pilots 01. One of us would be chosen. The best." His eyes darkened at that final word. "Taichi and I were the last ones. I was thirteen. Taichi was older I think, a lot bigger at least. We usually slept in different cells, we weren't allowed much interaction anyway. But one night J locked us up in a cell together, one without a bed. And unlike the other cells, it didn't have microphones or camera's either. I didn't mind it much, I liked Taichi, he was always nice to me." He stalled, looking down at his hands fidgeting in his lap. "Are you alright?" I noticed the lost and despairing expression on his downcast face. "Yes." "Do you want to stop?" "No." He frowned at his own admission. He gathered his thoughts and continued: "Taichi said he didn't mind sharing a cell with me for the night. I said I didn't mind either. He said that he liked me and I said I liked him too." His brows furrowed. "Then he came to stand real close to me and said that he had always thought I was very pretty. That I did not agree with. He came even closer to me and when I backed up I felt the stone wall of the cell against my back." A shiver ran down my spine but I didn't let it show. "He started to whisper, saying that after that night we would never see each other again because J had announced he would choose the one to be trained further that morning. He said: "This is the final test and I think I know what I have to do to win". I didn't understand what he meant and then he confused me more when he continued: "But first I think we are free to have some fun together"... That's when he started touching me." He looked up at me with big, frightful eyes. I scraped my throat to find my voice and could only muster a scratchy: "It's okay. Go on." He nodded slowly and looked away again, which, I presume, made it easier for him to talk. "I didn't have any fun, I didn't even know what was happening. Taichi was touching me everywhere, hurting me and he kissed my neck and face and tried to kiss my lips. I kept turning my face away and so he bit me a few times. I wanted to push him away, I begged him to stop, but he wouldn't budge and he just said he could do to me whatever he wanted, because I would never be able to stop him anyway. He was very... excited, but I didn't know what that meant. However, when he started taking off my shorts I just knew he was going to do something I really didn't want. I felt... fear. I started struggling more, fighting him, but he was really big compared to me and I didn't really want to hurt him. I thought he was my friend." Heero fell silent for a moment, I let him be. I myself was trembling in my seat, a combination of intense fear, anger and a sickening feeling in my gut. I hid my white-knuckled fists under the table and hoped my face wouldn't reveal any of the turmoil I felt on the inside. I didn't want him to worry about my reaction, I just wanted him to keep on talking. "To control me he started choking me. I tried to loosen his grip, but I couldn't and my kicks didn't even seem to bother him. He was so angry, he didn't let me go, even after I stopped resisting and then all of a sudden my training kicked in and I knew what I had to do to get him off. I didn't want to die." He frowned, like that was strange and confusing. "I did what I was taught in those kinds of situations. I struck his nose with the heel of my palm... and I felt and heard it crack. I hit him so hard I fractured facial bones. He immediately let go and fell back like a dead weight." His eyes narrowed, a hint of despise in them, I wondered whom it was meant for. "I'm not really sure if he was dead instantly, but I made sure. I dropped to my knees, straddling him and I just started hitting his face as hard as I could... I was so angry..." He whispered. "He was the only person I knew, the only person I could trust... and it turned out he was just like the others." I tried to reach for his hand to offered comfort, but he pulled it away from me. "I hit him for as long as I could. His whole face was red with blood, as were my hands. When I finally wasn't angry anymore, I didn't feel anything. I waited in the corner furthest away from his body for morning. Doctor J was the one to open the door, he looked at Taichi's body and then at me. I had expected him to be angry, I always thought he favored Taichi over me, but instead, he smiled... and he said he knew it would be me." I sighed. "The final test was killing the other." Heero spat, like he had just come to realize it. I nodded. I didn't wonder anymore what happened to the others. All of them were dead, as all of them had been disposable. The thought that Heero, too, was considered disposable made my blood boil. "Is it worse than you feared?" Heero asked, the shape of his eyes narrow and strong, but the emotions in them weak and vulnerable. "Evil is just evil. There are no gradations. What was done to you was pure evil." He bit his lip. "And what I did was evil." I reached for his hand and this time when he tried to pull away, I refused to let go. I looked him deeply in his eyes and stated: "What you did was surviving. Taichi would have raped you and then murdered you." I thought I would feel relief at the fact that in the end it turned out that Heero wasn't raped, but of the many things I felt, relief was not one of them. Mostly I just felt very protective. I wanted to hold him close and convince him nothing bad would ever happen to him again. Realizing there was nothing preventing me from doing so, I stood up and walked over to him, lifting him out of his chair and wrapping my arms around him. I buried my nose in his damp hair, smelling shampoo. Heero's hands were at his sides, not knowing what to do with them, still inexperienced when it came to hugging. "They are all gone now and you are still here. Safe." I whispered into the strands of chocolate brown hair. "Thank you for telling me." "Taichi is not the only friend I killed to survive." Heero muttered into my chest with apparent guilt. "Is my life really worth their deaths?" I tightened my embrace. "Your life is worth the highest price." He was silent for short while but then, with a shake of his head he continued: "Maybe Taichi would have lived to be a better Gundam Pilot... and a normal person after the war." I felt tears stinging my eyes but I was too stubborn to set them free, so I let them sting. "Taichi would have lived to be an asshole. The world is no poorer without him. It is richer with you in it." I pulled back a little so I could look at him. I had expected to see tears in his eyes, but they were dry, I shook off the gnawing feeling that that was a bad sign and ignored the ache in my heart that it caused. I kissed his forehead and when I was left longing for more I kissed his lips passionately, pleased to have him respond favorably. "My world is richer with you in it. There is no one else I would prefer." "Would you still say that if you knew the other stories?" "Yes." I brushed some wayward locks out of his face and stared into his eyes momentarily, pouring all my love into him through our eye contact. "But save them for future sessions. For now, let's just have dinner and watched stupid reality shows." The corners of his lips curved into the sweetest, tiniest smile, his eyes held a sudden mischief. "Yes, doctor." I kissed him again, holding his body to mine. We had made progress, but I still felt a distance in his eyes. He was holding back emotions, holding back his true self. I feared that if he would keep restraining himself, that true self would be chained within forever, alone with his memories that strengthened the soldier and weakened the boy. I knew now that I would love him no matter what transpired in his past, but would I still love him if he is not completely here with me?
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