~ Space Chances ~
By: Anime Redneck
8-11-03
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Archive: If you've got the OK to snag my stuff, then please do! If you don't, then please ask me before you take this one! I'd like to know where these are skipping off to if anywhere heh ^_^
Pairings: it'd give it away wouldn't it, but if you have to know... 2+1, 5+1
Warnings: I was told it's kinda Angsty.. so Angst, sadness.. some goofyness somewhere, I'm sure of it! I can't write total Angst unless it's a deathfic.
Disclaimers: Ah donno own tha Guys! Ah donno own "Total Eclipse of the Heart" by Bonnie Tyler whenever ah git ta playin' wit it! heh Ah own meh truck an' tha plot, and ye canna 'ave 'em! ^_^
Notes: Alrighty then! Now that's that's outta the way. I find it rather oddly amusing that I got threatened with an "Omae o koruso" if I didn't write up another 1x5x1.. by someone with the same name (minus a letter) as the title to my 1x2x1 site page! ::laughs grinnin':: So, inlight of said nicely, funny threat, and new ideas, I have put fourth a new chapter to a new story! Just chulk this up with the other what? Twenty-five or so I have going now? ^_^;;
I've actually had the idea for playing this song in with a story for a long time now. Well last night before bed it came on the radio and bit me in the ass with ideas on how to actually USE it! This, is the result. I hope you like it!
.
~oOo@oOo~
'
It was cold.
Unbearably cold in Space.
Outside the expanse of bright twinkling stars floated amongst the blackness that was space. All of it a deadly vacuum... all of it enough to freeze a man in so many hours... all of it enough to kill any living thing stupid or misfortunate enough to wonder in it without their space suites. And yet... despite all the damage it could do to a living being...
It was still quite very beautiful.
There was something majestic about such a dangerous beautify that called to the small, slim, young man gazing out of the large observation window with suspiciously dark, shinny orbs. Something that reminded him of someone else... Someone for which, was just as capable of killing another in so odd many ways, it would make ones head spin... And then... still there was a beauty around the special young man that he seemed not to notice.
How was this possible?
Did the other not know, with his dark widely spun locks, piercing, upturned blue eyes, that angular face with just a hint of soft curves... the same face whose looks could possible kill on a semi-good day, the same wondrous features, that, while asleep, looked so much younger and vulnerable?!
How was it that this young man did not see such beauty in himself? Was he trained so much to be a soldier that his sense of self worth - a truly moronic question - was washed away? Did he not notice that his skin (not unlike his own if a shade or so lighter) was tanned just right? That the muscles standing out on his being were smooth with their roundness... giving everyone the impression this man was someone you did not wish to mess with. Yet, at the same time, also counteracted that impression with his small size and compact body, showing someone that might be easily taken over... heh little did anyone know this special young man could take down anyone three times his size.
A gross misconception, it would seem at first, had he not seen it with his very eyes.
Shifting in his spot, drawing one knee up to his chest, looping arms around it, the other laid straight before him the young man leaned back more into the supporting wall behind him, emitting a small sigh.
What could he do? His heart, his soul, so wanted to reach out, embrace and help the other see what he possessed, yet lacked in noticing anything but his Soldier side. If the scientists had not already been blown to Hades with the rest of Libra, he would have been hard pressed on seeking out this Dr. J fellow and make him see the light of Death for his evil, out worldly training of the deep feeling Japanese boy.
This all coming from a man (in mind and soul if not body) who thought himself unworthy of being with anyone else. Unworthy of trying to help others when it seemed he could not help himself. He failed his colony... had failed to protect his child-wife - who appeared so much stronger then him! She wanted to fight! To protect their colony! While he, the small, scrawny Scholar, had merely wanted to stay away, to read and observe all he could. He had no wishes to fight, had no want for blood on his hands... however in all of this 'not wanting'; there was a very strong protective side which screamed to fight also! To protect that which was his! Join his wife, join his Clan members! Fight!
But he did not. Could not.
His soul in those times was fragile, young... grudgingly admitting also, scared. He had not the will to pick up a sword to fight the enemy. He had a will to protect his wife, his family, himself. But jumping into an enormous mobile suite and taking on hundreds of thousands of soldiers, who thought they were fighting for the right things? To take those semi-innocent lives, of people who were only doing as they were ordered? This was something his soul could not have withstood back in those days...
Now, gazing out into the inky blackness, alone in the large observation room... the Oriental young man knew there was much he could stand up to now. The loss of his colony, the loss of his child-wife... had created a hole in his chest, where his life muscle pumped. There was little left he could possibly *not* compete with. And make it out alive.
There was one thing. Only one person whom, could probably hurt him... though they would never know it. Not as long as h- spiiss!
Turning a sharp eye, barely straining in the darkness of space, what little light came in from the moon's light, the boy sitting on the observation's window stayed still as another short, well defied form entered the room, his sanctuary since the end of the last war.
Waiting for the doors to open, thinking them taking mildly longer then necessary, the dark figure entered the room. Bright eyes, thanks to reflecting the bare light within the room, scanned, searching for the one person who had not been accounted for after the wars end. A part of him, still strong from the latest fight, scanned it as if an unknown soldier would snap into being to kill him. Silently he berated himself. It was over! That was the last time he needed to kill anyone... Never again!
Catching the young man his whole being seemed to know better then himself, the slight young man started forward again, slowly, he did not wish to startle the other - though that would not have been easy in the doing. He knew the other knew he was there from the instance the bulk door slid open. Still, even he, was keyed up from their final battle, best to keep his rapid pace under control this time. It would do him well to learn control over his walk, so he did not appear to be... Stalking... all over the place as his best friend? had put it.
"Chang" he greeted the sitting young man in a near soft voice, gazing from the bleak, blinking stars outside, and back again, eying the window bench.
Lips giving an idle twitch at the smooth baritone like voice, almond eyes turned upwards, looking over the blue jean clad, green tank toped boy. Small to large bruises here or there could be found, mainly around his shoulders, where his pilot chair harnesses would have settled, biting into his skin as Wing Zero rocked from the blasts of the underground mansion, and it's own kick back... while tearing itself apart trying to bring down the "impenetrable mansion". There were cuts, some small and shallow, one on his left shoulder had stitches, and another on one smooth, high cheekbone carried more.
"Yuy" he greeted back, lips tugging a bit more as he motioned to the other half of the seat for his friend to sit. He would not admit it, to anyone, least of all at this moment... that watching as Wing Zero's internal skeleton was revealed, shot by shot, had scared the mighty, brave, pilot of Altron - his Nataku.
When Wing Zero had shot it's second, and fatally, last shot... two screams rang out from the ground, at different points. Later he was startled, hearing, seeing, the Gundam corpse's great impact with the ground - that one of the voices screaming in terror - was his own.
Nodding curtly, a habit he was forever doomed with (or so he thought for the time being) the Japanese pilot took the offered seat, grateful to get his slight weight off his feet. "Arigatou."
He wasn't sure why he had sought out the other Asian boy... They had a many great things in common; things neither would fess up to anytime soon, but there nonetheless. There was something... different... about Altron's pilot that drew him close, made him observe and file away information about him. Chang Wufei made for an interesting study - like himself he was sure - and for an even better friend, to have watching your back.
However, even with knowing all that he did, being in all the battles with the other as he had, Heero could still not untangle why, what, made him seek the Chinese pilot out so often. He himself, had the talkative American, right? So why did he seek another's company when he was feeling... off? Sad? Worried? He was not sure what he was feeling at the moment besides an unnamed restlessness, and tired... oh so tired... He should sleep, he knew. Duo was waiting, already asleep in their shared quarters, but he could not. Something kept him awake. Kept him from Sleeps calm embrace.
Letting out a near silent stream of air, something that passed as a sigh for Heero, he leaned his unruly head against the cool, cold, glass, emptying his mind of the confusing thoughts - content to watching the other's reflection in the glass, mirrored by the twinkling stars.
The air changed. Shifted from the quiet calm, to a calm stillness, still quiet but with an overlay of something else... something which only the Wing pilot carried with him, added in with the 'something' else, the stillness of something being wrong.
Heero was hurting. It did not take a scientist to comprehend this new feeling, only a matter of seconds for it to clip onto the right nerve in Wufei's mind. Tilting his head, watching the other through his glass reflection as Heero was doing to him, he waited. The stitches were not likely causing any sort of pain for the near stoic boy; something that small was inconsequential to him. The bruises were likely to be getting the same treatment, hardly causing pinpricks of discomfort.
Whatever was hurting him was inside.
Hesitating a moment, a motion that did not show in his voice, "Heero, are you well?"
The other was quiet tonight. This should not have surprised Heero; Wufei was never really a talker, as was himself, unless something needed to be said. But he worried... Was this worry? he mentally wondered. This feeling in his chest, a feeling, near pain, which tightened at the thought of leaving and never seeing the others (at least for long periods of time) again? Never seeing Chang Wufei again?
What was it about the Chinese pilot from the no longer L5 Colony, last known heir to the Dragon Clan? What was it that pulled these unknown emotions out of him? Over the last two years he had opened up, albeit a little, to the others - to himself. Had learned with help from everyone - regardless if they knew it or not - to put names to some of the things he felt at times. Emotions were nothing something he was familiar with. Not something he was used to contending with. Dealing with. They were new, hard, and at times... like now, perhaps... made him worry.
Heero Yuy did not like worrying... it made him feel... anomalous.
He had spent the first year trying to keep everyone away from him - No distractions. Duo Maxwell had spent that first year trying to get him "out of his shell" and "into the world of the living" for his own good or so the braided one said. Chang Wufei had spent that year watching them all, learning, trying to get them to work together as a team - showing them the right paths in which to take.
Quatre R. Winner, the loving Arabian, had spent it trying to teach them all the strategic advantages of working together, in teams, as one large team - leading them when Heero could not. Trowa Barton, had been a helper to them all, invaluable in his tricks and ways, always a silent beam of support or comfort when it seemed things were going down hill and even the rambunctious American could no longer keep his spirits up.
Sometime between the end of the first war and the slight, almost nonexistent peacetime they had before the second one - Heero had come to the conclusion; all four of the Gundam pilots were his friends - his family. Quatre's batting it into his head, along with Duo's helped also. He had come to realize, that, without the others, he was not whole. They were each apiece of a larger puzzle. A puzzle called life - one in which when you collected all five pieces; you had a tight nit family.
Admittedly one with many strange, deadly quirks - but a family nonetheless. Heero smirked a little at that thought. A family with forty overly protective protectors, most of which were old enough to be their fathers, or nearly old enough, he supposed. Forty fathers and five kids, right? They could've been on that ancient show Duo was always babbling about... what was it again? Ripley's Believe It or Not?
"Heero?" Leaning forward minutely, onyx pools peered into the deep blue of Heero's reflected eyes, a pair he could directly look into. He was becoming worried now, when the other did not answer his question. The Japanese had a knack for answering immediately, if not a second or so later. What was he thinking about? Wufei wondered, tipping his just so much more to the side, waiting patiently. Heero was not a man of many words, neither was himself, so he would not push him along. If the other so decided to answer, he would, in his own time.
Shaking his head a little, turning slightly, bright cobalt eyes peered into midnight. "Hai?" his voice low, an almost unheard of softness within the rich, baritone depths.
"Are you well, Heero?"
Was he? heh In a sarcastic way, he supposed it depended on the other's view of 'well'. But he knew, knew what Wufei had meant and he wanted to say 'Fine', his usual response... but he couldn't, something in those onyx depths, refused him, kept him from automatically answering without giving it honest thought.
Heero supposed, in a way, he was 'fine', was 'well'... and yet, in his other hand, he was not. He knew they were leaving soon, they all were, had places to go, something to do... Most of them did anyhow. He didn't, he was only going with Duo because he liked the boy, and... and Duo seemed to want him... honestly cared for the reckless Japanese from L1... He had nowhere else to go... No one else seemed to want him... So why not go with the hyperactive American? Was it not better then doing nothing? Feeling abandoned and lonely?
Of course, his mind battled over this single question also. It appeared to him, every question which flew through his mind was snatched up, observed, discussed and fought over to find the correct answer possible... Never could he just answer it... It was never that simple for him... He wondered if he would ever be able to decide something without some internal debate over it. His Humanity and Soldier sides conflicting - The Soldier, usually winning... Humanity didn't have a chance alone, not with the training he had been put through...
So why on his other hand, when he thought about leaving with Duo, did he worry? What was the worry for? Was he worrying about something, or someone? Himself maybe? It was driving him "up the wall" not to know... making him almost, sick, in trying to plot it all out. Why did his chest tighten when the thought of the others being away from him... more so when he thought of his Asian counterpart? What was it about Wufei being alone when they left, that put him on edge? Would he ever figure it out?
Giving another small shake of his head, eyes trained on the soft, caring ones of Wufei's, who tried hard to mask his true feelings... and had it been anyone but Heero watching him, he might have seceded; Prussian blues seemed to droop a bit, their lids closing for a second as his mouth answered for him, "Iie" barely a whisper.
Frowning at the others continued silence, mind running through possible reasons, suggestions, and crossing half of them out, Wufei put a gentle, cautious, hand on the other's shoulder, giving a slight squeeze at Heero's answer of no. Wufei knew, sensed it, if it was not a knowing of something within his own self, that to answer truthfully of not being well, and hinting with tone that one did not know why... took a great deal of strength and trust.
Neither of them were public people. They took great pains in keeping to themselves, trying to keep others out for whatever reasons. To openly admit that you were not well, was something to be seen as special... to know the other trusted you enough to go that far, to give that much information away.
Taking in a soft breath, hand tightening a little on that slim muscled shoulder, the Chinese pilot went out on a limb of pure trust.
Moving forward his other hand stretched out slowly, carefully closing around Heero's bicep on his left arm, gently tugging him backwards with both hands, always attentive at each move, being careful of his injuries, and his honed pride and senses; he did not in any way, wish to put the other ill at ease... He could sense though, that the overly quiet man-teen needed this... maybe even as much as he himself needed it.
Within moments he held a tensed Heero Yuy, back snug against his chest; his tanned arms locked softly around the other's slim waist, squeezing with what he hoped was a comforting amount of pressure.
Heero's eyes remained closed in silent wonder of what the other would think of him, and why it mattered? Would the Chinese honor-bound Justice seeker,* see him as weak? Did his voice give way to not understanding why he was feeling off inside? Out of everyone he had come acquainted with over the years... Who did he mostly 'get along' with?
Was there a difference between getting along with someone and someone else being your 'best friend', instead of just a friend? What separated those three from one another? Was there a boundary he was not aware of yet? He could call every one of the pilots his friends, his best friends, even brothers. Truthfully, brothers would be what they are - together making up their family. Heero knew what you considered someone, was based on how much you liked, or disliked him or her. But where did you draw the line for one or the other? Was there a diagram somewhere with standards listed on how one should feel?
Friends... Best friends... Brothers...
In the beginning, he considered them all problems, obstacles in his way to be over come, or until they were proven otherwise. Later, slowly, they became an oddball asserted group of allies... Even later still, they kept growing on him. Little things. Quatre's kind heart, his strategic knowledge; Trowa's quiet comfort, his strong support; Duo's endless chatter that kept him from getting his complete soul wrapped up in mission data which would have torn him apart, his friendly nature that tried it's damnedest to draw out the 'human' in him...
These were all his friends, his brothers... If he had to pick, then Duo was his best friend and brother. He was the one pulling the Human from the Soldier's imposing shadow... He was the single person that stood by him in everything, even when Heero decided the "only way out" was a Kamikaze move.
Heero stiffened suddenly as another hand clamped down, lightly, on his arm, tugging him back almost as if wary of what would happen for trying.
He could resist, but what was the use? Wufei would sooner or later get his way... he usually did. The remembered notion brought a small, nearly unseen smirk to his finely curved lips.
Chang Wufei, Dragon Clan heir... last of the L5 Colony... and possibility the most stubborn of them all - aside from himself of course. If there was something in which needed to be carried out, Wufei would do it, no matter how difficult. If perchance, one of them needed a certain item and could not find it... it had a way of appearing the next day, unknown as to how it got into their quarters. At other times, Heero could remember the Chinese pilot "ripping into" one of the others for a particularly stupid stunt. Or "letting them have it" (to adopt another of Duo's phrases) when their self worth value was rapidly dropping. That one, however, was rarely seen to happen in front of others but the one it was intended for.
Heero knew, in some uncanny way, despite all the non-caring, "hard ass" masks Wufei seemed to wear - he cared deeply for those of his team, his new family. Perhaps though, it was not an uncanny way of knowing, maybe it was just the same sort of mask Heero himself wore: To protect himself, and protect others. A mask of un-shown caring, of action being carried out which held more meaning to either one then they were willing to let others see into.
Letting out a quiet puff of air, watching as it's misty form flashed in the dim room, Heero forced himself to relax in the others arms. He trusted this young man, with his life, or more... There was no danger in staying as the other bid, no harm in stealing some of Wufei's body heat for himself...
Idly, a thought hit him...
If Duo was his best friend and brother... and Quatre and Trowa his friends and brothers... Then... What did that make Chang Wufei?
The sensation of being in his arms riled something within him he had not felt before... it confused him, yet warmed him also... What was this new feeling? Oh he knew some of what his feelings told him: Secure, Safe, Warm, and Protected... He needn't worry when encircled in the warm arms around him... Wufei would protect him... like always...
It was Wufei's greater qualities... the small ones... The ones barely shown outside of his personal space, his quarters... Though the Japanese pilot knew, unsure of how he had become aware to these small traits... just that somewhere along the way, he had stumbled into a special place many never saw.
With Wufei it was not what he said or even what he did most of the time that counted to Heero... It was what he didn't say, what he didn't do (in the open at least). The little things, small jesters many would have over looked, that he noticed...
Heero recalled a few memories from his mental log of being frustrated beyond his points, wanting to smash something to bits, mainly at times, his laptop... then to have a warm, slightly callused hand dropped on his should, squeezing lightly before the main body moved away. Or the times like it when Green Tea was offered as a "cool down" though it was not said... After a mission gone astray, the kind look in Wufei's doe eyes of understanding, support... heh The little items which seemed to appear in his room as if by magic, when he could not find them himself... the silent wall of strength, comfort and understanding that always seemed to be there for him to unconsciously draw off of...
Heero Yuy was not perfect...
He had also come to believe, understand, he could not live alone. Should not have to. He had family now.
He understood this, after two long, hellish years.
Reaching up uncertainly, hesitating a moment, Heero brought his hands to his waist, cupping them, holding onto the pair circling his waist comfortingly, like his life line in the dark... to a world he was no longer alone in... before closing his eyes, giving up the fight they had bravely been trying to have for him to sleep...
For three hours, lying in bed, and not sleeping, not knowing why... He still did not know why... But here, in these arms... He could finally rest...
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~ * ~
'
In the doorway shadowed by the darkness and outside light barely flickering into the night, moon lit observation room, stood a figure. Shoulder leaning against the doorframe, one leg crossed over the other lazily and his arms folded over his chest. If anyone could see his shadow paled features, they would see a sad smile gracing his tiers.
It was a beautiful, if something of a heartrending sight sitting before him now.
Two dark headed youths, so much alike, yet so different from one another, seeming to hold onto the other for all they're worth. Dark chocolate hair swayed with each gentle pass of a long fingered hand, smoothing back the wild locks while their owner slept peacefully, for once, in the strong, lean arms wrapped around him.
The Dragon, bless his beating heart, looked as content as they'd ever seen him before. He looked near... happy... holding the Wing pilot as he was, gently stroking his hair every few moments... eyes closed, his whole form, just pulsating: relaxed.
It saddened the observing figure greatly, to see each one so content to be where they were... to have forgotten, just for the time being, a war was won not three hours back by them five... It was heartrending because... No matter how much they may have felt at peace with one another......
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~ * ~
'
It was quiet in this room, Wufei thought, opening his eyes briefly to glance at the one he held. It was peaceful... for once since this whole damned war had started - The Eve Wars - he felt at peace...
That both warmed him with a tingling feeling he had not known in seeming ages... and scared him...
No matter what this might mean to him, the lonely Dragon... It could not remain...
Sighing, running one last hand through the wildly soft hair, he let his head sink back against the bulky wall behind him, a lone thought passing through his mind before Sleep claimed him also...
Heero was leaving with Duo in the morning...
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~oOo~ * ~oOo~ * ~oOo~ * ~oOo~
'
* Alright, don't no one take that the wrong way about Fei. I know we all (or most) call him a "Justice raving" something or another at some point, but that's not what I'm puttin' 'im as in this one. It's just supposed to be a goofy name Duo came up with for 'im. Nuttin' more!
Okies, So everyone like? Yes? No? PLEASE let me know what ya think! It's one of my rare "actually nearly all planned out and not flown by the seat of her pants" stories! lol I really do have near all of it planned out, just the ending is open, even if I know how it ends. BUT please review, lemme know! I love feed back!
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Keep it kickin'!
~ Anime Redneck
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The Certifiable Songfic Queen
Warai no Megami
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By: Anime Redneck
8-11-03
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Archive: If you've got the OK to snag my stuff, then please do! If you don't, then please ask me before you take this one! I'd like to know where these are skipping off to if anywhere heh ^_^
Pairings: it'd give it away wouldn't it, but if you have to know... 2+1, 5+1
Warnings: I was told it's kinda Angsty.. so Angst, sadness.. some goofyness somewhere, I'm sure of it! I can't write total Angst unless it's a deathfic.
Disclaimers: Ah donno own tha Guys! Ah donno own "Total Eclipse of the Heart" by Bonnie Tyler whenever ah git ta playin' wit it! heh Ah own meh truck an' tha plot, and ye canna 'ave 'em! ^_^
Notes: Alrighty then! Now that's that's outta the way. I find it rather oddly amusing that I got threatened with an "Omae o koruso" if I didn't write up another 1x5x1.. by someone with the same name (minus a letter) as the title to my 1x2x1 site page! ::laughs grinnin':: So, inlight of said nicely, funny threat, and new ideas, I have put fourth a new chapter to a new story! Just chulk this up with the other what? Twenty-five or so I have going now? ^_^;;
I've actually had the idea for playing this song in with a story for a long time now. Well last night before bed it came on the radio and bit me in the ass with ideas on how to actually USE it! This, is the result. I hope you like it!
.
~oOo@oOo~
'
It was cold.
Unbearably cold in Space.
Outside the expanse of bright twinkling stars floated amongst the blackness that was space. All of it a deadly vacuum... all of it enough to freeze a man in so many hours... all of it enough to kill any living thing stupid or misfortunate enough to wonder in it without their space suites. And yet... despite all the damage it could do to a living being...
It was still quite very beautiful.
There was something majestic about such a dangerous beautify that called to the small, slim, young man gazing out of the large observation window with suspiciously dark, shinny orbs. Something that reminded him of someone else... Someone for which, was just as capable of killing another in so odd many ways, it would make ones head spin... And then... still there was a beauty around the special young man that he seemed not to notice.
How was this possible?
Did the other not know, with his dark widely spun locks, piercing, upturned blue eyes, that angular face with just a hint of soft curves... the same face whose looks could possible kill on a semi-good day, the same wondrous features, that, while asleep, looked so much younger and vulnerable?!
How was it that this young man did not see such beauty in himself? Was he trained so much to be a soldier that his sense of self worth - a truly moronic question - was washed away? Did he not notice that his skin (not unlike his own if a shade or so lighter) was tanned just right? That the muscles standing out on his being were smooth with their roundness... giving everyone the impression this man was someone you did not wish to mess with. Yet, at the same time, also counteracted that impression with his small size and compact body, showing someone that might be easily taken over... heh little did anyone know this special young man could take down anyone three times his size.
A gross misconception, it would seem at first, had he not seen it with his very eyes.
Shifting in his spot, drawing one knee up to his chest, looping arms around it, the other laid straight before him the young man leaned back more into the supporting wall behind him, emitting a small sigh.
What could he do? His heart, his soul, so wanted to reach out, embrace and help the other see what he possessed, yet lacked in noticing anything but his Soldier side. If the scientists had not already been blown to Hades with the rest of Libra, he would have been hard pressed on seeking out this Dr. J fellow and make him see the light of Death for his evil, out worldly training of the deep feeling Japanese boy.
This all coming from a man (in mind and soul if not body) who thought himself unworthy of being with anyone else. Unworthy of trying to help others when it seemed he could not help himself. He failed his colony... had failed to protect his child-wife - who appeared so much stronger then him! She wanted to fight! To protect their colony! While he, the small, scrawny Scholar, had merely wanted to stay away, to read and observe all he could. He had no wishes to fight, had no want for blood on his hands... however in all of this 'not wanting'; there was a very strong protective side which screamed to fight also! To protect that which was his! Join his wife, join his Clan members! Fight!
But he did not. Could not.
His soul in those times was fragile, young... grudgingly admitting also, scared. He had not the will to pick up a sword to fight the enemy. He had a will to protect his wife, his family, himself. But jumping into an enormous mobile suite and taking on hundreds of thousands of soldiers, who thought they were fighting for the right things? To take those semi-innocent lives, of people who were only doing as they were ordered? This was something his soul could not have withstood back in those days...
Now, gazing out into the inky blackness, alone in the large observation room... the Oriental young man knew there was much he could stand up to now. The loss of his colony, the loss of his child-wife... had created a hole in his chest, where his life muscle pumped. There was little left he could possibly *not* compete with. And make it out alive.
There was one thing. Only one person whom, could probably hurt him... though they would never know it. Not as long as h- spiiss!
Turning a sharp eye, barely straining in the darkness of space, what little light came in from the moon's light, the boy sitting on the observation's window stayed still as another short, well defied form entered the room, his sanctuary since the end of the last war.
Waiting for the doors to open, thinking them taking mildly longer then necessary, the dark figure entered the room. Bright eyes, thanks to reflecting the bare light within the room, scanned, searching for the one person who had not been accounted for after the wars end. A part of him, still strong from the latest fight, scanned it as if an unknown soldier would snap into being to kill him. Silently he berated himself. It was over! That was the last time he needed to kill anyone... Never again!
Catching the young man his whole being seemed to know better then himself, the slight young man started forward again, slowly, he did not wish to startle the other - though that would not have been easy in the doing. He knew the other knew he was there from the instance the bulk door slid open. Still, even he, was keyed up from their final battle, best to keep his rapid pace under control this time. It would do him well to learn control over his walk, so he did not appear to be... Stalking... all over the place as his best friend? had put it.
"Chang" he greeted the sitting young man in a near soft voice, gazing from the bleak, blinking stars outside, and back again, eying the window bench.
Lips giving an idle twitch at the smooth baritone like voice, almond eyes turned upwards, looking over the blue jean clad, green tank toped boy. Small to large bruises here or there could be found, mainly around his shoulders, where his pilot chair harnesses would have settled, biting into his skin as Wing Zero rocked from the blasts of the underground mansion, and it's own kick back... while tearing itself apart trying to bring down the "impenetrable mansion". There were cuts, some small and shallow, one on his left shoulder had stitches, and another on one smooth, high cheekbone carried more.
"Yuy" he greeted back, lips tugging a bit more as he motioned to the other half of the seat for his friend to sit. He would not admit it, to anyone, least of all at this moment... that watching as Wing Zero's internal skeleton was revealed, shot by shot, had scared the mighty, brave, pilot of Altron - his Nataku.
When Wing Zero had shot it's second, and fatally, last shot... two screams rang out from the ground, at different points. Later he was startled, hearing, seeing, the Gundam corpse's great impact with the ground - that one of the voices screaming in terror - was his own.
Nodding curtly, a habit he was forever doomed with (or so he thought for the time being) the Japanese pilot took the offered seat, grateful to get his slight weight off his feet. "Arigatou."
He wasn't sure why he had sought out the other Asian boy... They had a many great things in common; things neither would fess up to anytime soon, but there nonetheless. There was something... different... about Altron's pilot that drew him close, made him observe and file away information about him. Chang Wufei made for an interesting study - like himself he was sure - and for an even better friend, to have watching your back.
However, even with knowing all that he did, being in all the battles with the other as he had, Heero could still not untangle why, what, made him seek the Chinese pilot out so often. He himself, had the talkative American, right? So why did he seek another's company when he was feeling... off? Sad? Worried? He was not sure what he was feeling at the moment besides an unnamed restlessness, and tired... oh so tired... He should sleep, he knew. Duo was waiting, already asleep in their shared quarters, but he could not. Something kept him awake. Kept him from Sleeps calm embrace.
Letting out a near silent stream of air, something that passed as a sigh for Heero, he leaned his unruly head against the cool, cold, glass, emptying his mind of the confusing thoughts - content to watching the other's reflection in the glass, mirrored by the twinkling stars.
The air changed. Shifted from the quiet calm, to a calm stillness, still quiet but with an overlay of something else... something which only the Wing pilot carried with him, added in with the 'something' else, the stillness of something being wrong.
Heero was hurting. It did not take a scientist to comprehend this new feeling, only a matter of seconds for it to clip onto the right nerve in Wufei's mind. Tilting his head, watching the other through his glass reflection as Heero was doing to him, he waited. The stitches were not likely causing any sort of pain for the near stoic boy; something that small was inconsequential to him. The bruises were likely to be getting the same treatment, hardly causing pinpricks of discomfort.
Whatever was hurting him was inside.
Hesitating a moment, a motion that did not show in his voice, "Heero, are you well?"
The other was quiet tonight. This should not have surprised Heero; Wufei was never really a talker, as was himself, unless something needed to be said. But he worried... Was this worry? he mentally wondered. This feeling in his chest, a feeling, near pain, which tightened at the thought of leaving and never seeing the others (at least for long periods of time) again? Never seeing Chang Wufei again?
What was it about the Chinese pilot from the no longer L5 Colony, last known heir to the Dragon Clan? What was it that pulled these unknown emotions out of him? Over the last two years he had opened up, albeit a little, to the others - to himself. Had learned with help from everyone - regardless if they knew it or not - to put names to some of the things he felt at times. Emotions were nothing something he was familiar with. Not something he was used to contending with. Dealing with. They were new, hard, and at times... like now, perhaps... made him worry.
Heero Yuy did not like worrying... it made him feel... anomalous.
He had spent the first year trying to keep everyone away from him - No distractions. Duo Maxwell had spent that first year trying to get him "out of his shell" and "into the world of the living" for his own good or so the braided one said. Chang Wufei had spent that year watching them all, learning, trying to get them to work together as a team - showing them the right paths in which to take.
Quatre R. Winner, the loving Arabian, had spent it trying to teach them all the strategic advantages of working together, in teams, as one large team - leading them when Heero could not. Trowa Barton, had been a helper to them all, invaluable in his tricks and ways, always a silent beam of support or comfort when it seemed things were going down hill and even the rambunctious American could no longer keep his spirits up.
Sometime between the end of the first war and the slight, almost nonexistent peacetime they had before the second one - Heero had come to the conclusion; all four of the Gundam pilots were his friends - his family. Quatre's batting it into his head, along with Duo's helped also. He had come to realize, that, without the others, he was not whole. They were each apiece of a larger puzzle. A puzzle called life - one in which when you collected all five pieces; you had a tight nit family.
Admittedly one with many strange, deadly quirks - but a family nonetheless. Heero smirked a little at that thought. A family with forty overly protective protectors, most of which were old enough to be their fathers, or nearly old enough, he supposed. Forty fathers and five kids, right? They could've been on that ancient show Duo was always babbling about... what was it again? Ripley's Believe It or Not?
"Heero?" Leaning forward minutely, onyx pools peered into the deep blue of Heero's reflected eyes, a pair he could directly look into. He was becoming worried now, when the other did not answer his question. The Japanese had a knack for answering immediately, if not a second or so later. What was he thinking about? Wufei wondered, tipping his just so much more to the side, waiting patiently. Heero was not a man of many words, neither was himself, so he would not push him along. If the other so decided to answer, he would, in his own time.
Shaking his head a little, turning slightly, bright cobalt eyes peered into midnight. "Hai?" his voice low, an almost unheard of softness within the rich, baritone depths.
"Are you well, Heero?"
Was he? heh In a sarcastic way, he supposed it depended on the other's view of 'well'. But he knew, knew what Wufei had meant and he wanted to say 'Fine', his usual response... but he couldn't, something in those onyx depths, refused him, kept him from automatically answering without giving it honest thought.
Heero supposed, in a way, he was 'fine', was 'well'... and yet, in his other hand, he was not. He knew they were leaving soon, they all were, had places to go, something to do... Most of them did anyhow. He didn't, he was only going with Duo because he liked the boy, and... and Duo seemed to want him... honestly cared for the reckless Japanese from L1... He had nowhere else to go... No one else seemed to want him... So why not go with the hyperactive American? Was it not better then doing nothing? Feeling abandoned and lonely?
Of course, his mind battled over this single question also. It appeared to him, every question which flew through his mind was snatched up, observed, discussed and fought over to find the correct answer possible... Never could he just answer it... It was never that simple for him... He wondered if he would ever be able to decide something without some internal debate over it. His Humanity and Soldier sides conflicting - The Soldier, usually winning... Humanity didn't have a chance alone, not with the training he had been put through...
So why on his other hand, when he thought about leaving with Duo, did he worry? What was the worry for? Was he worrying about something, or someone? Himself maybe? It was driving him "up the wall" not to know... making him almost, sick, in trying to plot it all out. Why did his chest tighten when the thought of the others being away from him... more so when he thought of his Asian counterpart? What was it about Wufei being alone when they left, that put him on edge? Would he ever figure it out?
Giving another small shake of his head, eyes trained on the soft, caring ones of Wufei's, who tried hard to mask his true feelings... and had it been anyone but Heero watching him, he might have seceded; Prussian blues seemed to droop a bit, their lids closing for a second as his mouth answered for him, "Iie" barely a whisper.
Frowning at the others continued silence, mind running through possible reasons, suggestions, and crossing half of them out, Wufei put a gentle, cautious, hand on the other's shoulder, giving a slight squeeze at Heero's answer of no. Wufei knew, sensed it, if it was not a knowing of something within his own self, that to answer truthfully of not being well, and hinting with tone that one did not know why... took a great deal of strength and trust.
Neither of them were public people. They took great pains in keeping to themselves, trying to keep others out for whatever reasons. To openly admit that you were not well, was something to be seen as special... to know the other trusted you enough to go that far, to give that much information away.
Taking in a soft breath, hand tightening a little on that slim muscled shoulder, the Chinese pilot went out on a limb of pure trust.
Moving forward his other hand stretched out slowly, carefully closing around Heero's bicep on his left arm, gently tugging him backwards with both hands, always attentive at each move, being careful of his injuries, and his honed pride and senses; he did not in any way, wish to put the other ill at ease... He could sense though, that the overly quiet man-teen needed this... maybe even as much as he himself needed it.
Within moments he held a tensed Heero Yuy, back snug against his chest; his tanned arms locked softly around the other's slim waist, squeezing with what he hoped was a comforting amount of pressure.
Heero's eyes remained closed in silent wonder of what the other would think of him, and why it mattered? Would the Chinese honor-bound Justice seeker,* see him as weak? Did his voice give way to not understanding why he was feeling off inside? Out of everyone he had come acquainted with over the years... Who did he mostly 'get along' with?
Was there a difference between getting along with someone and someone else being your 'best friend', instead of just a friend? What separated those three from one another? Was there a boundary he was not aware of yet? He could call every one of the pilots his friends, his best friends, even brothers. Truthfully, brothers would be what they are - together making up their family. Heero knew what you considered someone, was based on how much you liked, or disliked him or her. But where did you draw the line for one or the other? Was there a diagram somewhere with standards listed on how one should feel?
Friends... Best friends... Brothers...
In the beginning, he considered them all problems, obstacles in his way to be over come, or until they were proven otherwise. Later, slowly, they became an oddball asserted group of allies... Even later still, they kept growing on him. Little things. Quatre's kind heart, his strategic knowledge; Trowa's quiet comfort, his strong support; Duo's endless chatter that kept him from getting his complete soul wrapped up in mission data which would have torn him apart, his friendly nature that tried it's damnedest to draw out the 'human' in him...
These were all his friends, his brothers... If he had to pick, then Duo was his best friend and brother. He was the one pulling the Human from the Soldier's imposing shadow... He was the single person that stood by him in everything, even when Heero decided the "only way out" was a Kamikaze move.
Heero stiffened suddenly as another hand clamped down, lightly, on his arm, tugging him back almost as if wary of what would happen for trying.
He could resist, but what was the use? Wufei would sooner or later get his way... he usually did. The remembered notion brought a small, nearly unseen smirk to his finely curved lips.
Chang Wufei, Dragon Clan heir... last of the L5 Colony... and possibility the most stubborn of them all - aside from himself of course. If there was something in which needed to be carried out, Wufei would do it, no matter how difficult. If perchance, one of them needed a certain item and could not find it... it had a way of appearing the next day, unknown as to how it got into their quarters. At other times, Heero could remember the Chinese pilot "ripping into" one of the others for a particularly stupid stunt. Or "letting them have it" (to adopt another of Duo's phrases) when their self worth value was rapidly dropping. That one, however, was rarely seen to happen in front of others but the one it was intended for.
Heero knew, in some uncanny way, despite all the non-caring, "hard ass" masks Wufei seemed to wear - he cared deeply for those of his team, his new family. Perhaps though, it was not an uncanny way of knowing, maybe it was just the same sort of mask Heero himself wore: To protect himself, and protect others. A mask of un-shown caring, of action being carried out which held more meaning to either one then they were willing to let others see into.
Letting out a quiet puff of air, watching as it's misty form flashed in the dim room, Heero forced himself to relax in the others arms. He trusted this young man, with his life, or more... There was no danger in staying as the other bid, no harm in stealing some of Wufei's body heat for himself...
Idly, a thought hit him...
If Duo was his best friend and brother... and Quatre and Trowa his friends and brothers... Then... What did that make Chang Wufei?
The sensation of being in his arms riled something within him he had not felt before... it confused him, yet warmed him also... What was this new feeling? Oh he knew some of what his feelings told him: Secure, Safe, Warm, and Protected... He needn't worry when encircled in the warm arms around him... Wufei would protect him... like always...
It was Wufei's greater qualities... the small ones... The ones barely shown outside of his personal space, his quarters... Though the Japanese pilot knew, unsure of how he had become aware to these small traits... just that somewhere along the way, he had stumbled into a special place many never saw.
With Wufei it was not what he said or even what he did most of the time that counted to Heero... It was what he didn't say, what he didn't do (in the open at least). The little things, small jesters many would have over looked, that he noticed...
Heero recalled a few memories from his mental log of being frustrated beyond his points, wanting to smash something to bits, mainly at times, his laptop... then to have a warm, slightly callused hand dropped on his should, squeezing lightly before the main body moved away. Or the times like it when Green Tea was offered as a "cool down" though it was not said... After a mission gone astray, the kind look in Wufei's doe eyes of understanding, support... heh The little items which seemed to appear in his room as if by magic, when he could not find them himself... the silent wall of strength, comfort and understanding that always seemed to be there for him to unconsciously draw off of...
Heero Yuy was not perfect...
He had also come to believe, understand, he could not live alone. Should not have to. He had family now.
He understood this, after two long, hellish years.
Reaching up uncertainly, hesitating a moment, Heero brought his hands to his waist, cupping them, holding onto the pair circling his waist comfortingly, like his life line in the dark... to a world he was no longer alone in... before closing his eyes, giving up the fight they had bravely been trying to have for him to sleep...
For three hours, lying in bed, and not sleeping, not knowing why... He still did not know why... But here, in these arms... He could finally rest...
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~ * ~
'
In the doorway shadowed by the darkness and outside light barely flickering into the night, moon lit observation room, stood a figure. Shoulder leaning against the doorframe, one leg crossed over the other lazily and his arms folded over his chest. If anyone could see his shadow paled features, they would see a sad smile gracing his tiers.
It was a beautiful, if something of a heartrending sight sitting before him now.
Two dark headed youths, so much alike, yet so different from one another, seeming to hold onto the other for all they're worth. Dark chocolate hair swayed with each gentle pass of a long fingered hand, smoothing back the wild locks while their owner slept peacefully, for once, in the strong, lean arms wrapped around him.
The Dragon, bless his beating heart, looked as content as they'd ever seen him before. He looked near... happy... holding the Wing pilot as he was, gently stroking his hair every few moments... eyes closed, his whole form, just pulsating: relaxed.
It saddened the observing figure greatly, to see each one so content to be where they were... to have forgotten, just for the time being, a war was won not three hours back by them five... It was heartrending because... No matter how much they may have felt at peace with one another......
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~ * ~
'
It was quiet in this room, Wufei thought, opening his eyes briefly to glance at the one he held. It was peaceful... for once since this whole damned war had started - The Eve Wars - he felt at peace...
That both warmed him with a tingling feeling he had not known in seeming ages... and scared him...
No matter what this might mean to him, the lonely Dragon... It could not remain...
Sighing, running one last hand through the wildly soft hair, he let his head sink back against the bulky wall behind him, a lone thought passing through his mind before Sleep claimed him also...
Heero was leaving with Duo in the morning...
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~oOo~ * ~oOo~ * ~oOo~ * ~oOo~
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* Alright, don't no one take that the wrong way about Fei. I know we all (or most) call him a "Justice raving" something or another at some point, but that's not what I'm puttin' 'im as in this one. It's just supposed to be a goofy name Duo came up with for 'im. Nuttin' more!
Okies, So everyone like? Yes? No? PLEASE let me know what ya think! It's one of my rare "actually nearly all planned out and not flown by the seat of her pants" stories! lol I really do have near all of it planned out, just the ending is open, even if I know how it ends. BUT please review, lemme know! I love feed back!
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Keep it kickin'!
~ Anime Redneck
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The Certifiable Songfic Queen
Warai no Megami
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