A/N: This story is a little over half written and should be updated regularly on Sundays. It's mostly a lighthearted piece. There might be other fics like it, idk, it's an overused plot but cute, I hope. Main pairing is 2x5, others will be present but subtle. Enjoy!
Summary – 3 years after cutting ties with everyone from the war, WuFei Chang gets into a car accident in his way home from a company Christmas party and wakes up to another life.
This Beautiful Life
Chapter 1:
WuFei hated Christmas. To be exact, he hated Christmas time. The holiday itself, or the idea behind it in any case, he had no problem with – he could get behind Peace on Earth, goodwill toward men. Overly cheerful carolers, shopping rushes, insane mothers clawing their way through a crowd to get the last of this year's hottest toy left on the shelf - not so much.
Then, of course, there was the matter of the obligatory company Christmas party. As far as WuFei was concerned, it was not only a waste of valuable time that could be spent getting work done, it was also a poor excuse for employees to goof off on company time and act indecently towards one another. And while his boss claimed the party was a voluntary attendance, somehow he'd been strong-armed by the same man right smack dab into the middle of the fray.
So, there stood WuFei. Eggnog in one hand, a half-eaten gingerbread cookie in the other, ruefully watching his coworkers as they holly-ed and jolly-ed around the aluminum Christmas tree set up in the center of the hullabaloo.
The tree was decorated with large shiny bulbs and pewter or glass ornaments and shimmering silver strands of tinsel. At the base, set atop a white blanket made to look like snow, were fake presents wrapped in cheerful paper with bright bows and ribbon. The ceiling was strung with garland and paper snowflakes and there was even a bit of mistletoe tied up above one of the doorframes; which several employees, many who were married and their spouses weren't present, had taken advantage of that night.
Each desk and office door had a stocking hung up with the usual occupants' name fancily written across them. WuFei had opted to not have one hung at his door. He'd merely glowered at the woman offering them days ago until she left in a hurry.
It seemed as though a great deal of alcohol had been passed around the office, either that or they were all high on Christmas spirit. Men were dancing with women, some rather salaciously, Mister Deluth – the boss – was dressed in an oversized red suit and "ho, ho, ho-ing", and Susan Upstreet – Deluth's secretary – was leaning heavily against WuFei, batting her lashes and pressing her ample bosom against him. He was aware of Susan's romantic interest in him and couldn't be any more repulsed. The woman was ten years his senior, had three children, each to different men, and smoked like a chimney.
WuFei had been a soldier, despite his young age, part of a special rogue unit that utilized guerilla tactics to fight the enemy. A Gundam pilot, one of five boys rigorously trained to each operate a highly secretive and singularly unique mobile suit. He'd fought in two wars, most of the time in solidarity. He'd been known for his cold apathy, stubborn strength of will, overpowering sense of personal justice, and finely disciplined body. He was a well-honed creature of destruction and might, and he was quaking under the torture that was the Hinkley&Deluth Company Christmas party.
"Excuse me, I need some fresh air," he finally hissed at the repugnant woman, unlatching her from his arm and swiftly, with practiced ease from his days in the war, disappeared through the crowd.
With a heavy thud, the backdoor shut behind WuFei. Outside, the city was dark and muggy. It had rained earlier in the day, leaving the sky overcast, and the air reeking of wet pavement. It drew from WuFei a weary sigh of relief. Alone, at last. He leaned back against the brick wall, running a hand over his taut features.
"You too?"
WuFei startled, wide eyes sweeping through the back alley. A tall figure slipped from behind the dumpster. It was no one he recognized, but then he couldn't name five people from the company and Hinkley&Deluth employed a couple hundred workers at the main office alone. In any case, the stranger was a man somewhere around WuFei's age, roughly twenty-three. He stood nearly a foot over the petite Chinaman, had unruly chestnut curls, and light colored eyes and was dressed in a large black overcoat. He held a lit cigarette and WuFei wished he had the luxury of such an unhealthy habit to explain his escape to the outdoors.
Not sure how to respond to the young man's greeting, WuFei merely gaped at him.
"The party is just too much," the man went on, "I can't stand these kinds of get-togethers."
"They are somewhat pointless," WuFei found his voice.
"Depends on who you ask," the man muttered, flicking some ash to the ground and taking a long drawl from his cigarette, "Terry and Gina, for instance, probably like the opportunity to be all over each other outside the copier room."
WuFei grunted agreement though he had no clue as to who were Terry and Gina.
"It's just not my idea of Christmas," the man finally sighed, leaning against the wall next to his shorter companion.
Christmas, WuFei thought drearily as he scowled at the ground. He'd never had any idea about Christmas. He'd grown up on the L5 colony, isolated in the dead of space with only his clan. They were all gone now, self-destructed so that he could continue fighting, but they're traditions and memories lived on inside of him. Being an entirely Buddhist community, they had never celebrated the holiday. He knew the history, its pagan roots, association to the birth of Christ, and even its modern day use as a commercial vehicle, but other than a scholarly interest it meant nothing to him.
When WuFei had come to Earth during Operation Meteor and the Mobile Suit Wars, he experienced his first Christmas as a soldier. He recalled, in the heat of battle, a towering evergreen overflowing with shiny red and silver decorations. At the very top was a glistening gold star, at the bottom a fire raged and blood soaked into the snow painting the landscape red.
He recalled thinking at the time how useless decorating a tree was and even remembered feeling anger towards the civilians that had put it up. Had they nothing better to do with themselves while brave men lost their lives?
His second Christmas wasn't much different. The Eve Wars began, and he was a soldier again. The memory stung, for he had also been a traitor, caught up in his own psychological warfare, battling inner demons.
"…my mother burns the turkey every year."
It took WuFei a moment to realize the man was still talking to him. He blinked a few times and cocked his head up at the tall guy.
"Huh?"
The man glanced down, grinning easily, "My mom," he clarified, not seeming to understand that his companion had no clue what he was talking about, "Don't get me wrong, she's a wonderful cook. I think it's become such a tradition though, burning the turkey. Last year we had ham and we joked that she should burn that in memorial. She didn't, thankfully, but I kind of missed the taste of burnt bird, if you know what I mean."
"I have no clue what you mean," WuFei growled, infuriated that this man could prattle on nonsensically and not even notice that his audience was not listening and did not care. The man just peered down at him owlishly.
"Hm? Who will you be spending the holiday break with? Family?"
"I…no," WuFei stammered, glaring at the ground again. The question had caught him by surprise and he felt his face grow hot. The man suddenly looked downcast.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"
"You have no reason to apologize," WuFei snapped then clearing his throat and straightening, "I have no family."
They were all dead. Every last one of them. Vaguely, he wondered, if they were alive would he be spending the break with them. Hinkley&Deluth granted its employees a generous two-week leave for the holidays. It was one of the many things that made WuFei miss his former employment.
After the Eve Wars, WuFei had gone to work for the elite law enforcement and civilian protection organization known as the Preventers. He'd worked with them for two years before Hinkley&Deluth offered him a career change. The ultimate decision had boiled down to finances. Preventers didn't pay much and he needed to support himself. So he changed jobs and while the work was less satisfying he was able to afford a luxurious life in a large penthouse apartment.
Preventers, however, never took breaks. Officers on duty during holiday time were volunteers, and having nothing better to do, WuFei had always spent Christmas at Preventer Headquarters sipping tea with the commanding officer, Lady Une, waiting for some emergency that would never pop up.
"But I am sorry," the man repeated, his eyes filled with concern and…pity? WuFei sneered at him. Pity was the last thing on earth he needed or wanted.
"I said, you don't need to be," he hissed, "I have no need for family…or friends."
"You need no one?" the man pressed, taken aback, "Aren't you…lonely?"
"Lonely," WuFei spat the word out as though a bad taste in his mouth, "Being alone does not equate to loneliness. I, for one, prefer to be alone."
"I think you're lying," the man said flatly, and WuFei felt fire racing his veins at the audacity of this man to presume he knew anything about WuFei, "I think you're very lonely. I think you do need people. You need them so much it scares you. You can't tell me there's no one you miss. No one you wish was here right now."
Briefly, faces flashed through WuFei's mind. People he knew on the L5 colony; family, classmates, his long dead wife Meilan filled his inner eye, then his fellow Gundam pilots: Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell, Trowa Barton, and Quatre Winner. Even Preventers he had worked with: Sally Po, Lucrezia Noin, right down to Lady Une herself. Anger overwhelmed him. He spun to face his companion and though much shorter in height, his burning stare and lithe muscle that moved with calculated grace easily made him the more intimidating of the two.
"Let me tell you something about people," he roared, "They are weak and illogical. They care only for themselves and they're own desires and, in the end, they will only ever leave you behind and leave you disappointed," he stepped back suddenly, narrowing his eyes to slits at the mildly surprised young man and dropping his voice low, "It is none of your business anyway."
WuFei turned abruptly, marching huffily towards the parking lot. He didn't see the sad smile that flitted over his abandoned companion's face.
"As a matter of fact, WuFei Chang," the man muttered under his breath while running fingers through chestnut curls, "It is very much my business."
Practical and efficient had always been a few of WuFei's favorite words but he was also partial to fast and sleek, which explained his cherry red sport car. Behind the wheel, roaring down the road, gave him that same rush as catapulting through space in his precious Gundam suit, long ago destroyed. He slid into the plush leather interior and shivered as the vehicle roared to life. Adrenaline pumped through him and he liked the feel, it calmed his nerves. He jerked his car out of the parking lot and tore down the road at neck breaking speeds.
"Who did that asshole think he was?" WuFei snorted to himself in frustration, "Calling me a liar."
The car ripped around a corner and he fed it a bit more gas, kicking the needle to eighty and egging it towards ninety. Streetlamps were hung with wreaths, colorful lights, and glimmering garlands, it was enough to make him sick.
Christmas time. It had been around Christmas time when WuFei had last seen the other former Gundam pilots. Three years ago. At a Christmas party hosted in the Winner estate. Quatre had invited the other four, and what he'd been thinking WuFei still did not know, but the young man had always been good-natured and at the time WuFei hadn't the heart to turn the invite down. Apparently, none of the other ex-pilots had either for they all showed up.
Never before had WuFei felt more alone than that night standing in a room surrounded by business people, politicians, Winner children, and those young men he'd once fought beside and once betrayed. Then, WuFei had hoped that the invite had been an extended olive branch but as they coldly dismissed him while respectfully acknowledging one another, he knew the harrowing truth.
Quatre may have invited the other three as a kind gesture of friendship, but the invite to WuFei had been nothing more than formality. So he stood watching as Quatre mingled with the crowd, as Heero took refuge by the back wall with a laptop and a clear view of Vice Foreign Minister Relena Darlian, and as Trowa, somehow, slipped in to perform with the hired orchestra. Every now and then they would stop and exchange words with one another, disregarding WuFei all together.
To say that they all ignored him would be a lie, however, though it would have been better if it had been the case.
Duo Maxwell had stumbled into the party late in the evening red faced and belligerent with plenty to say to WuFei Chang – to each of the former Gundam pilots in fact. Riddled with curses, blind accusations, and hard truths, his words had slurred together into one great mess of bitter retort. Minus the expletive, the only kind thing he said that night was a, "Have a Merry Fucking Christmas", directed at Quatre, as he was forcefully lead from the room of startled guests by an apathetic Heero and a very furious WuFei himself.
The memories were proving too much for the young Chinese man as he pushed his car past the hundred mark on the speedometer. His vision blurred and the last thought he registered was that warm tears were spilling down his cheeks when his car hit an ice patch and spun out of control.
A/N: Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think and I'll more up soon!