Trust
Whoosh…
The bus doors opening sounded unnaturally loud after the near-silent bus trip home, particularly as the sound was followed by a roar of voices. Trowa glanced out the window, his eyes scanning the crowd futilely for a familiar face. He knew Catherine was going to be late picking him up, but he still had hoped…
Shaking his head, he stood to grab his duffel bag out of the overhead compartment. His seatmate, a grinning maniac nicknamed Duo, stood after him and clapped him on the back.
"You looking forward to going home, Barton?"
Trowa shrugged and, unable to think of a suitable response to the question, asked instead, "You?"
Duo had been a draftee, one of the reasons they had allowed him to keep the three foot braid that hung down his back, and Trowa knew that he had been reluctant to leave his life behind to go a fight a fight that he "didn't give one flying fuck about."
It wasn't surprising when Duo gave him a feral grin.
"I've been dreaming about my hot little piece of ass I got waiting at home for me."
Behind them Trant shouted, "I hear ya, baby!" and Duo looked sideways at Trowa, his smile turning evil.
"That is if they haven't broken out of the car trunk by now."
"Funny…"
"You know I only do it to see if you're really listening."
"Unfortunately, I am."
"Hey!"
As Duo began protesting the rest of their squadron started shuffling off of the bus and Trowa followed with an air of relief. The cool evening air hit his face in a blast and he looked around at the crowd of people that had gathered, trying to tune out the mess of sound around him. Off to his right Mueller was buried by three small bodies, his children screaming in delight as they crawled all over him, and by the front of the bus, Merquise was wrapped around a short dark haired girl.
Trowa stepped aside to let Duo off, who took one look at their Captain and his fiancée making out and let out a cat call.
"Oh baby!"
Without looking up, Merquise grabbed a water bottle from the top of his luggage and chucked it toward them. Duo sidestepped cheerfully and Trowa was lost in the myriad of people, each smiling, talking, moving, crying, living… Several of the men began to give each other hugs goodbye, the sounds of rifles hitting Kevlar and bullets rattling strangely soothing. He looked over at a touch on his shoulder and raised a hand in farewell as Duo waved goodbye.
"I'll see you around, Barton," and Duo grabbed his bag, throwing it over his shoulder and heading toward a black car on the far side of the parking lot. Trowa watched the braided man walk away without a word and once he had gotten in the passenger side and the car had peeled off, Trowa pulled his jacket tighter around his slim frame, grabbed his own duffel and headed the opposite direction across the lot.
He had barely made it out onto the sidewalk when a nearby woman said, "Hey kid, you need a ride?"
Trowa's eyes flicked left, then right, and sensing no one else around him, returned to the woman, who pushed away from the wall she had been leaning against.
"Yeah, you. You need a ride?"
"No."
The woman raised her eyebrows and then chuckled.
"Name's Sally Po, co-founder of the A.C.V.A."
When Trowa showed no sign of recognition, or even acknowledgement, she grinned.
"I'm serious kid. We just volunteer to give veterans rides home. I'm a harmless old lady."
He looked her up and down and decided that while she definitely was not 'harmless' she also wasn't necessarily a threat.
"I don't know where I'm going." Trowa motioned down the block. "I'm waiting for my step-sister to come get me and take me… somewhere."
Wherever the circus happened to be staying. Certainly not home.
"When's she going to get here?"
He shrugged.
"I don't know."
"Alright kid, I get the hint." The blonde woman gave him a smile. "If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to call…" and she handed him a card.
He didn't even look at it, instead tucking it into the front pocket of his duffel bag and throwing the bag back up on his shoulder.
He was back in Europe. The streets were deserted, the skies dark and the only noise was the sound of the occasional mobile suit taking off from a distant base.
He didn't question why he was back in Europe. He hadn't been stationed here for any signifigant length of time, and nothing particularly nasty had happened here, but for some reason he could remember it vividly. Perhaps because he had been in Europe when the official Declaration of War was made against the colonies…
He knew the war was over, and he would never admit it aloud but for the first time he felt comfortable again. Not happy, but definitely better equipped to deal with whatever happened. He had spent a small bit of time in Europe, first as a wide-eyed cadet and then on his sole return visit, to assassinate one of OZ's officers. Not since the war ended…
His mind took him down one of the side alleys where he would watch the street kids play marbles in the harsh sunlight. This time it was deserted, his boots echoing softly off the cobblestone.
Suddenly a hand grabbed his shoulder and he spun, heaving himself off of the surface at his back and twisting to get behind whoever was attacking him.
When his vision finally cleared he was standing behind Catherine's friend Sheila, who was frozen stiff as a very tense and very naked Trowa held a knife to her throat. With a shake of his head he released the frightened girl, who gave him one terrified look and scurried out of the room.
"Shit."
He dropped back into his bed, forgoing his blankets in favor of the cool air. It was a testament to his training, or maybe just habit, which kept his duffel bag well within arm's reach. He fumbled silently at the front pouch and extracted the slim white card inside.
After Colony Veterans' Association
He wasn't sure how long he lay there thinking about the business card, but he knew she was there long before she spoke. He remained still, neither opening his eyes nor covering himself. When she finally cleared her throat, he spoke first.
"I'm going away for awhile."
"Trowa…" She took a hesitant step forward. "We weren't going to kick you out. Sheila's fine, and she knows you didn't mean it. We'll try not to… startle you from now on."
The darkness was the only reason Trowa smiled; there was something about knowing that no one could see that he found that statement funny when he shouldn't…
"You're not even my real sister, Cathy…"
His tone was neutral enough to make it a statement and not an attack but her voice was still sad as she replied, "You were just getting back into the knife act, and Gustavo really wants to retire from the lions. We need you. I need you."
"I don't need you." She was far enough in the hall light that he could see her face crumble, and some small twinge in his heart forced him to add, "At least not yet. I need to get reacquainted with civilian life. Be alone for awhile."
She nodded and walked away silently, but even as he said it he knew he was wrong.
He hadn't been alone for the last 18 months. It was the last thing he needed right now.
He needed to be alone with the right people.
His dog tags suddenly felt cold on his chest, the first time he'd consciously thought about wearing them in, god how long had it been. He'd worn them day and night for the last year and a half, and now they felt like they were strangling him. With one swift movement he grabbed them, tensing to yank them off and throw them on the far side of his room, by the desk, but then he paused. Instead he pulled them over his head and set them on the low table by his bed, where they glinted in the pre-dawn light.
By the time the sun had risen, Trowa was still awake. He finally gave up, getting out of bed and grabbing clothes and the business card.
"Sally tells me you have insomnia."
Doctor S., one of the A.C.V.A's top psychiatrists, peered at him through wire-rim glasses.
"Yeah. I lay there and it's like my brain never shuts down."
"Mm-hmm…"
The doctor's voice was deep, soothing, gently urging him to continue.
"I try to sleep and I know everyone around me is falling asleep but I just continue to lay there."
There was a pause, in which Trowa could hear the doctor scribbling on his notepad, and then Dr. S hummed once more.
"The sleep disorder is really just a byproduct of PTSD; you can try medication but it will only help the symptoms, it won't really fix the problem."
Trowa nodded, not really surprised by the news.
"Ideally, you go to therapy, talk some of it out, try and get back into a healthy schedule now that you're out. We'll watch your exercise and diet; you're used to being far more active than you are right now, and your brain needs time to relax from the stress of being constantly on alert. You have nightmares?"
Trowa nodded.
"Typical." The doctor shook his head. "It's a shame what happens to such bright young boys."
This time Trowa shrugged. "It is what it is."
The old man sighed. "Yes well, contacting us was the first step. Sally really cares about you boys and it's good to see people doing something."
Trowa shrugged again.
"If you say so."
The Doctor gave him a flat look. "I'm also going to recommend that you get yourself something to take care of. Nothing big; maybe a fish, or a plant, something like that. Talk to Wufei or Sally and they can help you with that."
The After Colonies war had been a messy fight, with unclear alliances and unclear rules of engagement. Already the war was being remembered as the most damaging to veterans, mostly young boys pushed into service by greedy politicians.
It was not the first time he had run into someone that he knew from the war.
It was the first time he had run into a squad mate.
Oliver Alexander had been the field medic assigned to Trowa's squad. The last time Trowa had seen him, he had been reassigned to a fighter platoon off of L1-57384, and now he was in the hallway talking to Sally. A nurse stood behind him, her hands on his wheelchair and it sounded like he was arguing with Sally about a medication for phantom pains.
Wufei found Trowa there ten minutes later, still listening to his ex-comrades conversation. Wufei took one look at Trowa and grabbed his arm, towing him in the opposite direction. They eventually stopped one of the smaller cafeterias, where Wufei deposited Trowa in a seat and went and got French fries and sodas. As he deposited them in front of a near-comatose Trowa, he growled, "I know it's hard finding out that people you fought with are injured. Especially when you're not…" He looked Trowa up and down and added, "At least not physically."
Trowa raised an eyebrow but refrained from arguing. "You can't see my scars."
"But they are still there." It wasn't a question, so Trowa didn't bother answering. After a moment Wufei added, "Doctors, even Sally, cannot understand what we went through unless they were there. Stories are just the things that people are willing to talk about, willing to admit to. Stories are nothing compared to memories."
"Yeah well, that's why I was listening. He was a good man. He lived it; the least I can is listen to it."
"That doesn't change anything."
"I know." Trowa shrugged. "It may sound fucked up, but that is how I feel."
Wufei looked sideways ay him and smirked. "Yeah well, you're allowed to feel however you want."
"How about a snake?"
Trowa watched the long animal basking in the artificial sun and could relate. All that power, all that instinct and it was kept as a pet…
"Too much work. Plus some of the vets are triggered by snakes." Wufei read the small description card and snorted. "You can barely take care of yourself, what makes you think you can take care of a snake?"
Trowa shrugged, unwilling to rise to the argument, and instead settled for muttering, "Asshole."
They headed slowly toward the fish section, their steps slow as Trowa looked at the assortment of hamsters they were passing.
"I have found that I am most often called an asshole when I am telling the truth." Wufei's voice was dry, but there was a small smile on his face. "People don't seem to like honesty that much anymore."
Trowa shrugged. "A guy I knew used to say it's less mean if it's true." The thought of Duo made him want to smile. "That was normally when he was talking shit about our commanders."
Wufei gave him a conspiratorial smile. "Sounds like an interesting guy to meet..."
Trowa nodded. "It's possible. Duo tends to pop up at the oddest moments."
Wufei's eyes widened and Trowa raised his eyebrows.
"You know Duo?"
"Yeah." Wufei was silent for a long time. "How is he?"
"He's… loud."
They both broke into grins at Trowa's description.
"Yeah, he was always like that." There was a flicker of hesitation in Wufei's eyes before he asked, "Is he single?"
Trowa shook his head. "Something about a hot piece of ass waiting at home for him."
Wufei nodded, but Trowa thought his smile was a bit too tight as he said, "Maybe we should get you a bonsai tree or something…"
Trowa's insomnia, still unresolved after nearly two months of intense therapy, was the only reason he was awake and trolling the empty dorm halls at three-thirty in the morning, and he suddenly was glad he was. In one of the empty meeting rooms, a half-naked Wufei was practicing katas in the moonlight. Trowa stood and stared, watching as the Chinese man flowed from one move to the next, his body stretching fluidly through the patterns.
It was so smooth that it was painfully obvious when he sensed Trowa standing there watching. He continued, which in and of itself was odd, but his body was controlled, no longer free and Trowa almost felt sorry for interrupting the peace.
When Wufei came to a halt and turned to his right to bow, Trowa decided it was time for him to leave. Before he could even make it back out the door, Wufei called to him.
"Where are you going?"
He shrugged. "Probably back to my room." After a moment of awkward silence he added, "I couldn't sleep."
Wufei nodded and grabbed his shirt from the floor, disappearing from the light as he headed for the door. Trowa took a step back to let him through and was stunned by the heat coming from the Chinese boy. He took an almost automatic step after the boy and then, remembering where he was, he stopped dead in his tracks.
Wufei turned around, his figure dark as he stepped back toward Trowa.
"What are you going to do?"
Trowa was finding it very hard to concentrate with the other man so close to him.
"Huh."
Wufei took one more deliberate step towards him.
"What are you going to do?"
Trowa could hear the smile in his voice and he was lost. He smiled, once again thankful for the darkness that helped to hide it and fixed his eyes on Wufei.
"Hopefully you."
The Chinese man grinned, his teeth flashing white in the dark.
"I thought you'd never ask."
He pulled Trowa to him, their lips meeting roughly. A small groan escaped his mouth and he pressed himself up against Wufei, enjoying the feel of another man's body. He was burning up in the cool night and once he fumblingly reached for the drawstring of Wufei's workout pants the older man stopped him.
"My room?"
The rough whisper brushed against his ear, tickling him and causing him to squirm.
"Sure."
Minutes later they were in Wufei's bed, sprawled out around each other, exploring urgently. There was part of him demanding to dominate, just as there was a part of him demanding to be dominated. He wanted to rip buttons and tear at cloth, and at the same time have Wufei hold him in place and make him beg..
It brought back flashes; his first time, a fumbling teenager in the school bathroom with his hand on one of his classmate's B cups, then the slew of girls that came after that, followed closely by his other first time, this time with Quatre Winner in the backseat of his town car at Senior Prom. Numerous times with Quatre faded into Pedran, the mobile suit mechanic from Raven's squadron. Wufei's teeth sank into Trowa's collarbone, and he moaned, all thoughts of Pedran and the cockpit of a fighter jet forgotten.
In the end Trowa felt empty, and it felt nice.
He was no longer filled with a sense of numbness, no longer felt that a fight was around the corner, so he'd best conserve his nerves and his energy. Now he just felt peacefully blank, one might even say content.
He lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling and contemplating what his next move would be. He wasn't sure if it was Wufei, or just the warm body and the good round of exercise but he felt truly tired for the first time in a long time.
Yawning loudly, he stretched and resisted the urge to burrow further into the bed.
"You can stay."
Trowa wasn't even sure Wufei's words could be considered an invitation. They were more of a statement, an announcement that, if he wanted to, it was an option.
He said nothing in response. He simply let himself relax, really relax and feel completely safe, and enjoy the feeling of the body next to him. After a moment he found himself pleasantly… comfortable. It was an odd feeling really. And then he heard it.
It was not as loud as some of the men in his company but it was definitely a snore.
The high and mighty Wufei Chang was snoring…
Trowa snorted violently, finding this thought beyond amusing and Wufei woke with a start.
"What the hell are you laughing about?"
"You snore."
"I most certainly do not."
"Yeah you do."
"You're making it up."
Despite Wufei's protests, the snoring resumed once he had fallen back asleep and Trowa lay in the warm bed and listened to it. Where meditation, medication, hypnotherapy and soothing ocean sounds had failed, the steady sound of the man breathing beside him lulled him into a finally-dreamless sleep.
As always, I don't own Gundam Wing, I just love them way more than is cool anymore.
AN:: This is for Toni, the anonymous reviewer to Vegas who gave me this when I asked for a pairing challenge.
"How about Trowa & Wufei... Wufei can be the rock Trowa can lean on so he can learn to trust..."
Obviously, this story was what came out of that. Again, in the interest of keeping my writing skills from rusting, I am looking for pairings (particularly uncommon ones), along with scenarios and such for one-shots, just as small writing exercises. If anyone feels like requesting something, it would be much appreciated.
HB
PS. To anyone who reads The Driver or Fight or Flight
Fight or Flight is on an uncertain hiatus. I'm not sure if that story will ever get finished, but I honestly hope to. The Driver, I know where it is going, I need to figure out how to get it there. As I've said, I've had killer writer's block, and these one-shots seem to help... I will finish The Driver, once I can write something for it that isn't complete shite.