Psycho
by Lady DeathAngel
Disclaimer: I only own Gundam Wing in my mildest fantasies, otherwise it belongs to a bunch of people like Bandai, Sunrise, TV Asahi, etc., etc., etc., so don't sue me (you wouldn't get much anyway, as I'm very broke).
Duo
Why is this happening to me? Why is this happening to any of us period? They told us that everything would get better. I suppose that after psychoanalyzing us for so long and coming up with nothing, it was the most positive thing they could manage to force past their throats. Like positive could help us.
By the time they got around to telling us that everything was going to get better, we were so far gone we didn't even notice them standing before us, delivering the fatuous lines. I remember the crackpot shrink entering my cold cell and staring down at me with a pasty smile. That's all I remember. I can see his lips moving, hear the words, but I don't remember them. But then, that's what they wanted. Maybe that's not exactly what they intended to happen, but they got what they wanted nonetheless. They had managed to delve into the psyche's of what they had deemed 'War Children'.
Hey, look, mom, there's a psychological disorder named after me! Aren't you just dying with pride? In reality, it's not like we actually have the War Child syndrome. Although that's what we've been told, we all know it's not true. No, this whole 'War Child' thing is completely fabricated. At least for now. But I've heard the rumors.
When the scientists think I'm not paying attention I listen. They want to inject us all with some serum that will make us Grade-A walnuts. Then they'll have us certified and broadcast the tragic situation across the solar system.
'The former Gundam pilots and Former Vice Foreign Minister Relena Darlian have all developed a serious disorder known as the War Children syndrome. It attacks children who were between the ages of ten and seventeen during the Eve Wars. If you are not fast to act, your child could be next. Please contact this number immediately for more information.'
And then whoever had headed this little operation will charge a lot of money to 'cure' children before they can become psychotic serial killers or mental headcases. They'll target some more important 'War Children' next, maybe Sylvia Noventa or Dorothy Catalonia, and use Hilde as proof that the 'disorder' is spreading quickly.
My hands clench as I think of Hilde. It wasn't fair for them to grab her too. She was only guilty by association. Association to me. Shinigami. Death personified. I lean my head back against the cold stone of my cell. I haven't seen her since they brought us here, and that's been at least three months, give a few. I hope she's all right.
But I've heard rumors about what they've done to the female prisoners too. We've all heard the guards bragging about how easy a lay they are. Those are the only times that any of us show emotion outwardly. I've watched as Heero's eyes flash and Quatre's fill with tears. Trowa's fists clench and Wufei begins muttering about how unjust and cowardly and dishonorable they are. Me, I have to stop myself from launching at them and ripping them apart with my bare hands. But there's nothing we can do. Not without risking our lives or the lives of the girls.
The door to my cell opens and in the dingy light I can make out a white coat. I show no signs of having noticed him, but inside my lips twist in disgust and my eyes shine with hatred. He grabs me by the arm and pulls me into a standing position. I follow him out, meekly, not saying a thing. I see the other guys getting pulled out of their cells as well.
We are all led up stairs and into a brightly lit building. I blink furiously as my eyes adjust to the painful brilliance of the flourescent lights. We are led down hall after hall until they finally put us in a room, sitting us all next to each other.
I note how we seem dirty compared to the scientists who blend into the white walls with their white coats and white notepads. We're all in dirty clothes, loose shirts and pants with no shoes. Like prisoners. Which, when I think about it, we are. We're prisoners, held captive by an enemy with no face, and we have no way out.
I stop my train of thought abruptly and carefully blank out my mind as we are all forced to stare at a screen that flashes different images from the Eve Wars.
"Let's try this again. Maybe we'll get something this time." Says a scientist. There is a murmur of agreement and the questioning begins.
"What did you see at that moment?"
"What were you thinking?"
"How did you feel when you killed?"
I force myself not to answer in my mind, knowing they're watching for any brain activity.
"Do you still want to kill?"
I want to nod and say, "Oh yeah. I want to kill all of you sons of bitches for what you've done."
But I must remember to remain blank minded. Show no emotion. Act like the mental retard they hope to make me as soon as they can.
Sally
"Come on Chang, don't do this to me now. Not when I was finally getting used to your pigheaded chauvinistic remarks." I mutter out loud, staring at the computer screen in front of me.
Five months, it has been five months and there has been absolutely no sign of him. Of any of them. I reread the same sentence for the fifth time in the past ten minutes and push away from my desk with a curse.
"Dammit!" I cry, rubbing my temples where a headache is developing.
"Sally? Are you okay?"
My head shoots up and I find myself eye to eye with Noin. I sigh and let my arms drop to my sides.
"No! I am getting so sick and tired of this! It's like they've completely disappeared! They're nowhere on earth, we've checked all the colonies . . . How long is it going to take to find them?"
"Missing Wufei?" Noin asked, raising an eyebrow.
I shrug and don't say anything. What am I going to say? Yes I miss him because I'm totally, completely, irrevocably in love with him? Or that I hate him and couldn't care less? Honestly, I don't even know which is the truth anymore.
As much as I hate the fact that Wufei has absolutely no respect for women, I can't help but be attracted to his finer points. And I don't just mean his looks. He's intelligent, strong, and always honorable . . . I sigh again and sag against the wall at my back.
"Yes." I say. "I do miss him."
Noin grins. "Uh-huh. I thought so."
Her face sobers almost immediately though, and she walks up to me, placing her hands on my shoulders.
"We'll find him." She says.
I note the dark circles under her eyes and realize that I'm not the only one who's suffering. Noin's been tortured for the past five months because of Zechs. The man's gone crazy searching for his little sister.
I know that Noin misses him and regrets not being able to help him look for the others, but she returned to Preventer headquarters the minute they got news of the kidnaping. Neither one of us have stopped working since. I nod.
"Yeah." I reply. "I know we'll find him."
She smiles softly and backs off. I rub my eyes, they sort of sting, and move back to the computer.
"Any new news?" I ask. She shrugs.
"Sort of." She begins. "It's nothing really, but it might help."
I raise an eyebrow at her.
"Well," she continues. "Une and her group of Preventers managed to unearth some old files. They're about a year old and written by a group of people, scientists I think, who called themselves the 'Hope of the Future'. The files were really hard to understand. There was mention in there of the 'War Child' syndrome. It was described as something that attacks anyone who was between the age of ten and seventeen during the Eve Wars. It's supposedly a highly dangerous psychological disorder which could lead to mental retardation, suicide, or murder."
I frown in thought and confusion. "But it's been nearly three years since the last War. Who would ever believe that their children have this 'disease'?"
Noin, who had rested her hip on my desk and crossed her arms over her chest, purses her lips. "That's where the writing got confusing. According to the files, the actual War Child syndrome doesn't technically exist."
"What?" I ask.
She puts her hands up in a gesture of surrender.
"I don't know either. After the files stated that the War Children don't 'exist' they went on to say that there are some who might have the disorder and that they need to be psychoanalyzed as soon as possible. There was another file attached to that one, but we still haven't broken the code to it."
I lean back in my chair and close my eyes in thought. The War Child syndrome? I have never heard of it before and I'm a doctor. You would think that they would have warned me of some sort of strange disorder like this, that way if I happened to get a War Child as a patient I could ensure that he got the help he really needed. Help of the psychological kind.
I open my eyes and find Noin staring out of the window in my office.
"Have you already run a search on this 'War Child syndrome'?" I ask.
She shakes her head. "No. Since you're our resident doctor, Une was hoping you could run the search and ask a few other doctors their opinions."
She doesn't need to explain anymore. I've already started. As small a clue as this may seem to Noin, to me it's another chance that I'll find Wufei and soon.
Hilde
I'm cold again. I shiver and hug Relena closer to me. She wraps her arms around my waist and shivers. I can feel it travel through her body and into mine. After shivering, she coughs. It's a deep, body racking cough and the resulting shudders travel through her body and then into mine.
She's had this cough for a long time. Nearly a week, I think. I put my hand to her forehead and then draw it back quickly with a hiss. She's got a fever. And not just some, I've got a head cold, fever either. It's a, get her to an emergency room before her brain fries, sort of fever. She wasn't this bad yesterday.
She coughs again, this time doubling over with the impact of them. Every time she draws a breath, it sounds like something's rasping or maybe even rattling in her chest and throat. None of the scientists have tried to help her. They think that all she has is some sort of cold or maybe the flu. I think it's much worse then that.
It doesn't really matter if it's just a cold anyway. In our cell it's damp and dark and freezing. She'll never get better under these conditions. She coughs again and again and can't seem to stop. She pulls away from me suddenly and puts her hand over her mouth as she coughs. When she draws it away, it's covered in blood.
I stare at the blood for a split second before I start screaming at the top of my lungs for help. I run to the bars of the cell and continue yelling but no one comes. I realize then that it will be at least five minutes before a guard comes to check on us. I rush back over to Relena. She's fainted. Maybe even comatose. I wouldn't doubt it. The fever she has is way too high.
I rip off part of my shirt and clean off her hand with it. As I'm doing this I hear footsteps and picking Relena up, rush to the bars again.
"Help!" I cry. "Please help us!"
The guard takes his time walking toward us and then he just stands in front of our cell, eyeing me.
"What's all the fuss about?" He asks in this lazy drawl.
I look purposefully down at Relena. "My friend needs help you idiot! Or can you just not see that?"
He glances down at Relena's form and shrugs. "Looks like she's sleeping to me."
I've had it. If it wasn't for the fact that I'm holding Relena, I would reach through the bars and strangle the peon minded life form in front of me.
"She's really sick." I say. "She's coughing up blood and her temperature is really high. If we don't get her help, she'll die! You've got to help her!"
He glances back down at her and then up at me. "What'll you do for me?" He asks.
I blink. "What?"
He crosses his arms over his chest and sighs. "Got a hearing problem? I said, what will you do for me if I help this little piece of trash?"
I glare at him. "She's not a piece of trash, she's one of my best friends and I would take on Satan and all of his demons to make sure she's okay."
His eyebrows raise slightly. "One night then." He says. "One night with you, and I'll take this," he waves toward Relena. "To the emergency room upstairs."
I glance down at Relena. The areas underneath her eyelids are dark and hollowed out, her cheek bones are protruding from her face. She's light in my arms, for being almost half a foot taller then me. Her skin is burning hot to the touch and each intake of breath sounds labored and weezy. Relena's a good friend of mine. When Duo accepted a job as her bodyguard for a few months, I decided to tag along with him and got know her really well.
She's a good person. Kind and sweet and not at all deserving to die. I glance back up at the guard. It won't be so bad, I tell myself. It's not like the guard is hideously ugly. He looks clean and he doesn't smell like some of the others. And although his attitude toward me is aloof and standoffish, he doesn't seem cruel. All of my reasoning lasts at the most five seconds. It isn't that hard of a decision to make.
After all that Relena has done to ensure the safety and peace of the solar system, after the past two years I've spent as her friend, after getting to know her, I know that I can't just let her wither away and die. I can't stand to see her in pain. What I told the guard is no lie. I would rather die then see Relena suffer. I swallow, meet the guard's eyes . . . and nod.
"All right." I say. "One night."
He looks me over and then nods. He takes his keys out of his pocket and unlocks the cell door. Reaching in he takes Relena from me. I watch silently as he locks me back into the cell and turns to take Relena to the emergency room. I watch as he leaves, and realize something.
"Wait!" I call. He stops and turns to me with raised eyebrows.
"I don't know your name." I say.
"Lee." He says before turning again and taking Relena with him.
The huge doors leading to the building above our cells swing shut behind him. I shiver as I realize how empty my cell has become. Please be okay Relena, I pray silently, before curling up in my corner to await the night.
Relena
Hot. It's so hot here. Why is it so hot? Usually I'm freezing, my body shivering uncontrollably, my breath visible in front of my face. Now though, it's sweltering. My body feels like it's bursting into flames. I want to scream.
What's going on? Why is it so hot? It isn't long before I'm able to force my heavily lidded eyes open.
I'm on a stretcher I think, being rolled somewhere. I look up into the eyes of a guard. I don't recognize him. He isn't like those others who frequent the halls where mine and Hilde's cell is kept. This one seems different. Sort of kind. Or at least empathetic. 0
He isn't leering at me anyway. That's something, I suppose. I think for a moment. Why am I even out of my cell? Sure I've been sick for a while, but the scientists knew that. They told me they didn't care if I had a sniffle or cancer, they weren't going to treat me until they knew exactly how the whole, 'War Child' thing works. If it even exists. Which I'm convinced it doesn't.
I try to turn my mind away from the tangent it's floated off on. Why am I being taken to the hospital wing? The guard wouldn't have taken me, I glance back up at him. Would he? None of the others would.
This one may look kind, but no guard would ever go against orders just because he felt sorry for the sick girl in the cold cell. I had begun to understand their kind. They would want something in return. But what? Hilde and I don't have anything to give them. Anything at all. Except . . .
I gasp out loud and try to sit up. I am being held down by two belts. I strain against them and start screaming at the guard.
"What did you do to her? Where is she? Where's Hilde?"
His eyes darken with what looks like pity.
"The girl's fine." He said.
"For now!" I retort. "But what about later? What are you going to do to her later? You dirty, rotten, no good son of a bitch! If you hurt her, I'll kill you! I swear to God, I'll kill you!"
He winces slightly. "Don't worry about the girl. I won't hurt her."
But I'm not really listening. I collapse back onto the pillows, coughing. I feel the coughs deep in my body. They hurt my lungs and my throat burns as a liquid forces its way up and out of my mouth. Blood. The blood is starting again. I try to stop coughing, but I can't.
The screaming had been too much for me to handle. I heard the doctor's saying all sorts of things. I barely register the nurse who is ordered to get an IV ready stat.
When she brings the long needle and bag of fluid back, I don't it notice on a conscious level. All I can think is, 'Why Hilde? Why'd you do it for me?'
I know exactly what she is giving up. It isn't supposed to be something she surrendered because of me. She's supposed to give it to someone special. Tears make their way silently down my cheeks. A needle pricks the skin at my wrist and I feel a strong sting in the area as something cold and sharp enters my bloodstream.
It doesn't last long though. Because soon afterward I begin slipping into a world of black. I manage a short prayer though. I pray that God will keep her safe. That he will somehow spare her the pain she will experience if she goes through with what she is planning to do.
The prayer won't be answered though, I know. In that way, the War Child syndrome really does exist. Because it seems that God never says 'yes' to any prayers offered up by war children. And in times like the ones we are all facing, when God said 'no', we are all as good as dead.
A/N: Well, what did you think? Not much to it and it hasn't been rewritten yet, so it might be a little hard to read. Hopefully I'll be able to fix the problems, but not until I have some free time. Anyway, please R&R. Thanks a bunch!