Hi! This is
story number 5! ^_^ From yours
truly, ME! ^_^
Okay, enough with the
fluff. I'm back to my serious
routine here. I know, so sad. (no pun intended.) After that last one I did, I got a lot of nice comments, I mean
WOW! ^_^ I had never
received so many reviews in so short a time! In one day I received more reviews than
my other stories had ever received, and they had been up for months!
^_^ And not one flame, either!
Thank you so much!
^_______^ You have my eternal
gratitude. ^_^
Well.. I guess I'll get on with
it…
Title: "Conversation"
Rating: PG/PG-13 (got a little language in here… that's
it though… *shrug* nothin' serious)
Author: Sailor Event Horizon
E-Mail: StrfltAcd@aol.com
Disclaimer: I do not own
Mobile Suit: Gundam Wing. It is copyrighted to Sunrise, Bandai, and Sotsu
Agency. (Believe me, I'm as upset over it as you are.)
Okay…
READ:
1) This is meant to be serious. There may be confusion at the where this
story is going, but if you read it all the way through… I think you may be
pleased. It's not so much based on
a theme… as it is the… conversation.
It's a simple story. Not too
much brain power I wouldn't think.
I just got an idea for the first 7-9 paragraphs and then suddenly:
WOOSH! Out came the rest. ^_^;;
2) The name "Anika" is used in this story. Let it be known that this has nothing to
do with any of my other stories.
(None of my stories have anything to do with each other, actually.) I just like the name, that's all.
^_^
3) And one small thing, I have a word in here, "terrored" that my
spell-checker doesn't recognize. I
don't know if it's a word or not but I like it! So it stays! (Hey, call it the author
equivalent of Poetic License. ^_~)
4) And remember, this is a conversation, not a real
"story." It doesn't focus on any
plot line as much as what is said, how it is said, and who the speakers
are. Okay?
Thank you, I hope you enjoy
this. ^_^ Please Read and Review!
^_^ Or E-mail me at my
aforementioned address. ^_^ Thank you again!!
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
He is looking out the grimy
window of a shabby motel. It is
late and the room is dark. Blocks
of reflected streetlamp light pour onto the dingy walls and over a chair and its
occupant. His eyes move over the
various edifices. The view isn't
anything more than he had expected; although, of course, a little more would
have been nice.
A light
flashes at the top of one of the buildings in view. Two more, on the tops of some others
follow. He shakes his head. Those days are behind him now. God knows how much he wanted to go out
there and show them how to do it right but it just wasn't his business
anymore.
A voice
breaks him from his reverie.
"Huh? Oh.. sorry about that.. Got a little
side-tracked," he smiles apologetically.
Now what had they been talking about? Oh… right…
"Heero, I
don't care what you say, you're so much like your daughter—and you don't even
realize it! Anika clings so much to
those she loves." He receives a
mixed look. "I know, I know… so
does Relena.. but not like her. We
both know Relena loves you—she wouldn't have married you if she didn't love
you—but the only reason she clings to you is because she's afraid you'll fall if
she's not there. Heero, you're so
dependent!"
A low
growl.
"No, no. Don't look me like that.." He shakes his head and brings a hand to
his chest. "Hey, I'm the same
way. I'm not saying it's a bad
thing, Heero. I mean, it's not
too bad… It seems with us
that we're either Hell bent on killing the enemy or so determined to live
'normally'—heh, or at least as close to it as we can get, considering how
screwed up we all are—that we can't even stand up without support. Personally, I'd rather take the latter
than the former…"
Some
muttering.
He raises an
amused eyebrow, "I never said that it made sense, Heero. But that's the way it is. We don't know how to deal with ourselves
anymore, Heero. We did too much to
just forget, and hell, we're too stubborn to see a shrink!" He then smirks, "Although God
knows we all need one…
"But it is
true. Hilde's the same way with
me. For all the years we've been
married, she's always been there—somewhere." He snorts. "…God, she's one hell of a woman to put
up all the crap that she has. And
so is Relena. They 'cling' to us
because they're afraid we'll give into the nightmares that haunt us so
much. That one day it'll be too
much and we'll just finally end it ourselves.
"And yes, I
know you still have nightmares, Heero.
We may not have talked about them for a long time, but I know you have
them, as you know I do." His face is solemn, as is his voice. "We're soldiers. We don't have to be psychic to know that
we both see blood on our hands every time we look at them.
"But that's
the reason they're always so close.
Never far away. We've hardly
ever worried about being without their support because they made sure of
that. Because they made sure that
we knew that they were there for us when we needed them.
"And
Heero? …They're right to stay so
close."
Pause.
More talking,
some muted comments.
"It has
everything to do with what I'm saying.
Heero, unlike Relena, Anika doesn't cling simply because she
worries. Even when she was a kid,
Relena was very liberal about Anika.
Oh, she'd keep her eye on her to make sure nothing happened, but mostly
she was very relaxed. When Anika
got sick was when she started being at her side every moment. Relena clings when she's worried about
someone she cares for.
"Anika isn't
like that. Anika sticks around
those she loves simply because she loves them." He smiles, "I remember when she was ten,
we were coming up the walk up to my door after going out to get something to
eat. Anika came running up from
around the corner and practically attacked you! You'd think you had been gone a month or
something from the way she acted.
Anika clings to those she cares about. Relena clings to those she worries
about."
A low voice
speaks again.
"You're
exactly like she is."
Pause. "Or you would have
been, at least, if it hadn't been for that damn dehumanizing training you went
through… You may not act on your
impulses, but you cling in your own style.
The way you always stand beside Relena, Anika—or Hell! Even me, I can see that thread that
connects you with them—us.
Obviously, Anika is a lot more open about it than you, but you're the
same. With you it's a mixture of
caring and total unconscious dependency, but pretty much the same. I've also noted that she also shies away
from crowds, away from strangers.
You also do the same." Smirk.
"She's more like you than you want to admit."
Silence.
He speaks
again, serious once more. "I can
see it," he taps beneath his eye. "You may not, but I do. Believe me, Heero, I do. And, Heero, when I say that she's almost
exactly like you," he gives a small, kind smile, "that's a good thing. No matter what you believe."
The other
occupant replies with heated words.
"Heero,
that's not true." He is frowning,
his voice sounds reproachful, "You're not a 'born killer.' Yes, you're a soldier. Yes, you've killed people. And yes, you have done things that you
don't like to talk about. But so
have I! Heero, no matter what you
may believe… no matter what we believe, we are not born
killers.
He leans
forward in his chair, putting his elbow on his knee and resting his chin in his
hand.
His voice is
soft, "Despite what we tell ourselves and others. Despite how much suffering we've
inflicted. Despite the terrored
screams of our victims that we hear every night:
"We. are.
not. born. soldiers.
"Nobody is
born to fight. Not one of us was
born with the genes to be automatic killing machines. It was bred into us, Heero. Bred. Do you hear me? Bred by the war, bred by the former
Alliance, bred by our sufferings, our pain, our youth." His eyes become dark
with hostility, "…Bred by the Doctors…
He forces the
emotion from his voice before he continues, "I know for a fact that when I was
seven or eight, I never once thought of being the almighty God of Death. Not once did I think of raising a scythe
to cut the life thread of thousands of people. Not once.
"And I'll bet
my cap that you didn't either."
He sits back
up, "Oh, I know you were an assassin at that age. Or at least a protégé. But before then, or even during! Since I know you can't remember that far
back, did you ever really want to be a soldier? Of course not. We were still oblivious to just how much
one human hand could really change things.
Oh, I wouldn't say we were innocent, I wouldn't dare insult either of our
Pre-war selves' memories by saying that.
Even after Sister Helen and Father Maxwell died, I didn't think of just
how much power one human could really have. How much blood one could really
spill.
"And then I
met the good Doctor. Ah, yes. And then I learned what killing was
really about. What
fighting was really about.
Hmm.. Oh, yes, the 'good ol'
days.'" He snorts again.
"Hmph.. My, my, 'how time
travels fast.'" He shakes his
head. "Back then, at the beginning,
I never once realized just how much of an impact I was really going to have in
that yet undeclared war. Or rather,
how much that war was going to have an impact on me.
"Tell me, at
the beginning of it all, did you have any idea what you were getting
yourself into?"
A pause.
One sentence
floats through the air before Nothing falls again.
Silence.
A drop of
water.
He gazes
softly, "Huh… 'live by your emotions.'
Yeah, he did tell you that, didn't he?* I'll bet he never imagined just what
that little bunch of words was gonna get you, did he?
"Mm, mm, mm…
My goodness…" His gaze travels
through the dirt-ridden window up to the top of the surrounding buildings. He stares for a while. His body never moving. Every so often a light flickers and then
maybe two or three will follow.
"You
know? Even now, I want to
fight. I want to take up arms and
show them what I can do. Show them
something to prove who I really am, not was. It's calling me. And I'll bet it's calling you, too. The Fight. The Desire. The Passion. It runs so deep in us. In my heart I know I can do
it. I know that I can fight.
… But.. In my head," he briefly taps his temple, "I also know that it would be
pointless. I'm slow. I'm out of touch. I haven't even touched a gun in twelve
years. Haven't fought in twice that
long.
"But I still
want to. Oh, God, the power! The desire to fight is staggering. It burns so much! The nightmares of blood on my hands
wakes me up countless nights yet I can't help but try to remember what it was
like in battle. It was
invigorating! Life and Death in
your hands… or Death rather.. in my case..
But the power! The
call! You told me that when Wufei
challenged you†, he asked if you only felt 'fulfilled' on the
battlefield. Well, I don't know
about 'fulfilled' but shit!… It came pretty damn close… So close… Hm.." his gaze becomes unfocused,
"Sometimes I wonder… if it had been any closer.. could I have left? Could I still have been able to leave
the fight?" He looks up, "Is that how you feel, too? Is that how you felt during the War,
Heero? I can't remember anymore,"
he gesticulates, "to me the whole thing is just a big wash of emotions. Burning hatred, raw power," he stills,
"…raw tears…" His head shakes once, "not my own, of course. But others'. I remember seeing a lot of tears during
that War." His eyes turn again to the window.
"And yet…
even now. Even after knowing what I
went—what we went through… I still want to fight. To challenge Death just one more time,
to show Him that his Chosen One, his self-appointed Angel of Death," his voice
is hard as his eyes flash, "still won't go down without a fight! But…" he takes a breath, "I hold myself
back, letting common sense and reason rule over what has been bred into me. However, the idea that we're here just
because those kids can't hack into a security system while defending their
position at the same time is not a pleasant one.
"Hackers. That's what we've been reduced to, isn't
it?" He sighs slowly, but his gaze
doesn't falter, still focused on the outside buildings. "Nothing more than a couple of computer
know-it-alls."
Another
comment.
"Personally,
I'd have rather not known about this entire operation, then I wouldn't be
sitting here, bored out of my mind—which," he adds with grisly amusement, "is
pretty far gone already. 'Doing
something is better than doing nothing,' is not always a true statement,
Heero. Because I can think of
another good axiom:
"'Ignorance
is bliss.'
"Besides,
it's not our fault that the Preventers don't teach their dingbats simple
hacking skills. I'd rather be home
then sitting in this waste dump of a motel. Shit! Sleeping in the old scrap yard would
have been better than this." He
kicks the walls in disgust. A roach
crawls out of a nearby crack and slinks to another before it can become a
permanent accessory to the floor.
A rueful
comment.
"Ah,
Hell! Who cares if I'm acting
spoiled! I've got a right to
be! Damn it, when they called me up
and asked if my 'security' skills were still up to par I never imagined I'd be
sitting in a shit-hole like this. I
thought that I'd be doing something. And I'll eat my hat if you weren't
expecting the same thing."
Shrug.
"Ha! I thought so! Maybe we weren't expecting to be toting
a bunch of grenades or something, but we sure as Hell expected to be doing more
than this!"
He slumps
back down in seat, suddenly looking and sounding very tired. As though he had not slept in years.
"Heero.. why
are we out here? Why did we
suddenly agree to this when we knew that our fighting days were behind us? Why?" He looks to the window again. "We're nobody, Heero. Nobody. Just a couple of legends in some History
books. And even they don't
really have that much on us. Not a
name, not a picture, not an alias. Just a list of Gundams and
zero-somethin's."
A serious
reprimand.
"No! No, no, of course I don't want anybody
knowing who I am.. who we are. It's
just that… I mean…." A deep breath.
"I… I…" He lets out a large
sigh. "I don't know… I guess… I
guess I just don't like the thought of being forgotten… Maybe during the War, I
got so used to the idea of going out in blaze of glory—which was always the most
likely case for any of us—that I kinda didn't realize that maybe I
wouldn't go like that… It
never really occurred to me that I'd ever be doing anything but fighting… I mean
sure, I thought about it sometimes, you know, for kicks… But
seriously…" Another sigh.
"That damn
doctor… Man, look at me!" His anger flares up again. "Now I don't even wanna die
without fighting! This is
pathetic," his voice is filled with self-loathing. "During the War and while Mariemeia was
attempting her coup d'tat, I couldn't wait for it to be over, I couldn't
wait for the battles to end.
To actually live in peace.
Not some cheap fabrication…
And now look at me… It's all I want to do right now… To fight."
Silence.
He hears a
soft voice.
He takes a
breath. "….Yeah.. yeah, you're
probably right…" Once again he
appears tired and worn. Years
beyond his age. "Oh God, what's
wrong with us…" He
swallows. "Heero… Heero…." He closes his eyes. "I just want to go home… I want to go home and see Hilde.. Have her say everything's alright.." he
licks his lips, " that everything's gonna be fine… Maybe hear from Sara… See Peter…" He bites the right side of his bottom
lip for a moment. "But.. but
mostly… mostly I want to see Hilde…
You know? Oh, God… I
was a fool… We were fools!
For accepting this.. What the Hell were we thinking, Heero? What the Hell were we
thinking?!"
He's sweating
and looks almost ready to have a panic attack when a hand grasps his upper arm
and another his shoulder. The quiet
voice speaks again.
He swallows
and licks his lips. He closes his
eyes for a moment before taking a deep breath. He's calm again. The demons have passed again for
now.
He opens his
eyes and stares into space. A sad
and almost resigned look in his violet eyes. "'We thought we could make a
difference.' … Yeah.. I guess we did…
"Heero…
Heero, we're stuck like this aren't we?
There isn't anything we can do about it…" More words. "'Soldiers…' Shit…. Even after all this time, to
think that we're still slaves to Hell's demons. It ain't a nice thought, is it? To think that we still want to go out
there.."
He exhales a
deep breath. "Oh, but that rush,
that adrenaline rush.. There isn't anything like it, is there?" His face looks almost wistful. "The power.. the excitement… the raw
emotion… Nothing else like it… The
feel of the controls… Ah, Heero… I want nothing more than to go out there… just
one more time…
He senses the
shaking of a head. It is followed
by a low voice.
"Yeah, yeah…
I know… Once more would never be enough.. I know that… I just…" He shrugs. "I'm just talking nonsense, Heero. Forget it."
With
hesitation, the hands lift themselves off.
The action is followed by the sound of boots on a wooden floor and the
creaking of a chair.
He stares out
the window for a few more moments, thinking. And then, "You think we'll ever get over
our training? I mean, like I said
before… we were bred to be soldiers, not born to be… right?" He chews one side of his lower lip
before asking, "Do you think we'll ever move on?"
A shrug. A word.
His voice is
tired and sad as he responds, sounding years beyond what it should, "Huh.. yeah…
'maybe….'"
Footnotes/clear-ups:
* Let it be known that this is an EPISODE ZERO
REFERENCE!! Okay? ^_^ I don't want
anybody to be confused.
†
Endless Waltz reference.
