Useless Notes: This be my first Gundam Seed story. Be nice.
Disclaimer: Nothing in here is mine (except the idea, of course).
The summary that I couldn't squeeze in outside: This story here's my take on the aftermath of the battle at Jachin Due, so obviously, nothing in here matches any of the events in the series. It revolves around my favorite character Dearka Elsman after the war. In here, he gets injured really badly and he gets some expected and (maybe) some unexpected visitors.
Okay, enough with the blab. I think we're about ready to start.
Initiating… now.
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Treating the Injured Enemy
Dearka Elsman painfully breathed in some air. He'd been doing this for some time already and the pain only worsened each time he took in bigger breaths, which meant that he wasn't dead. If he hadn't felt anything, then he would have been really worried.
But the only thing he'd been able to do so far was breathe, which wasn't good for a Coordinator like Dearka Elsman, member or the elite ZAFT forces. His vision was still black and it had been for some time now, so the most he could do, really, was breathe. And remember…
The fight at Jachin Due. Commander Le Creuset's vicious attacks on his beloved Buster. The Natural who told him to take care of himself before he launched into space. Yzak's Duel holding what remained of his Buster and firing the final shot of its gun at the opponent. Yzak bombarding him with questions at gunpoint. The Natural who told him to take care of himself before he launched into space. The delicious, spicy ramen he had for lunch (who knew Naturals knew how to cook so well?). The infirmary he stayed in during his capture at the- wait, Natural hospital?!
He started coughing in surprise, sending waves of pain throughout his chest. God, why did it hurt so much to breathe?
"Dearka!"
Natural hospitals were definitely not the place to be for a Coordinator like him. It just wasn't cool.
"Dearka!" the same voice called.
He tried to move his eyes (thank God they still worked) and moments later, black turned into fuzzy and fuzzy turned into Yzak. He sighed in relief. So he wasn't in a Natural hospital after all. Who knew what their doctors would do anyway if they had a Coordinator lying half-dead at their operating table?
"Ngrrh…" he growled, somewhat irritated by the sudden noise.
"Dearka!" Yzak called for the third time.
Damn, doesn't this guy shut up?
"'zak?" he muttered, his voice barely audible than a whisper. It also pained him to talk, he discovered. "Wha' happ'nd?" he slurred, "Where'm I?"
"You were brought here to the Archangel's infirmary after Commader Le Creuset shot you down."
Crap, so this was a Natural hospital after all, Dearka groaned. But if this was a Natural infirmary-and on the Archangel too, at that- then where was she?
"I know you don't like being in a Natural hospital either, Dearka, but it was the closest place I could get you to. Everything was a mess out there," Yzak suddenly said, effectively reading his friend's thoughts. "The Buster got hit really bad and so did you. You got a huge chest wound from the explosion and the flying scrap metal. Doctors said you were lucky to live…They also told you to stop talking as much as possible. Your wound might reopen, and then what?"
He brought his hand to his face and gritted his teeth, a loud sigh escaping his lips.
"Dammit, Dearka, why couldn't you see where you were going? Now look at what happened to you…geez…and challenging the Commander like that- what the hell were you thinking?!" Yzak was clearly scolding his best friend, but his worry and relief were not hidden from Dearka's relaxed eyes. He smiled inwardly- it felt good to know that even Yzak Joule was capable of showing such feelings.
Yzak collapsed into the chair resting at Dearka's right side, obviously exhausted from scolding the patient. Soon, awkward silence followed, since neither could think of a thing to say to the other- this was the first time they've spoken since Yzak held Dearka at gunpoint. The silence was full of tenseness and fear, that both Coordinators didn't seem to mind the battle that was still going on outside. Yzak stared at his shoes, still maintaining his military sitting pose; his back not leaning on the backrest and feet stuck on the floor. Dearka tried to relax, his body leaning comfortably on the soft mattress and pillows, his eyes trained on the ceiling, as if memorizing it.
Then, the mechanical sliding door suddenly wheezed loudly, causing both men to jump (inwardly, of course) in surprise. Dearka's breath painfully lodged in his throat, sending another surge of pain. He closed his eyes forcefully and clenched his teeth as he let out a breath of annoyance, surprise and pain, causing Yzak to send him a worried glance.
"I-I'm sorry," the newcomer stuttered in surprise.
"No, it's okay," Yzak smiled, shaking his head.
Dearka turned his head slowly to face the door and smiled upon recognizing her. The pain was nothing; she was here, that was all that mattered. "Oi," he raised his left hand weakly.
She smiled and went over to sit by his left side, across Yzak.
"Yzak," Dearka motioned to his friend to introduce him. Almost immediately, said Coordinator stood up and gave a salute. He offered his hand across the bed.
"Miraillia Haww," she stood up and took his hand, shaking it in the process. "Nice to meet you."
"Same here," they both sit back down.
"So, how is he?" she asked, looking at the patient, with nothing but concern and worry in her eyes.
"Not so good, considering he almost got himself killed," Yzak snarled, suddenly turning to Dearka.
He scoffed, "Did not."
"But the doctors said he'd be fine," he nods at Miraillia, ignoring Dearka.
"Am fine," came the stubborn protest.
"No you are not!" Yzak raised his voice in frustration. "You got hit on the chest, you can't talk- you can't even breathe! How is that fine?"
Dearka smiled. It was so rare to see Yzak explode in one of his concerned fits. A laugh threatened its way to his throat, but he was able to hold it back down. "Just a scratch."
Yzak scowled. "Idiot. That's a scratch?"
"I'll live," Dearka smiled up at his friend.
Yzak allowed himself to relax. At least he could still smile. "Yea, you'd better," he turned away, a light blush forming on his face.
"Heh," Dearka grinned, pointing a finger at his friend, "Yzak's blushing."
"Am not!"
Dearka only smirked.
"Fine," Yzak snarled, going towards the door, "I'll go grab some coffee."
And with that, he was gone.
The invalid then turned to the girl seated on his left.
"Oi," he called, "How're you?"
"Idiot," she smiled, "I should be the one asking you."
"Not too long ago since I was here last…" he remembered, "Almost died…"
Miraillia held his arm and stroked it gently, hanging on to his soft, garbled words.
"Now I'm back…" he continued, "But I sure as hell ain't gonna die this time."
"No you won't," she smiled, shaking her head, "Yzak-san and I'll make sure that doesn't happen."
Dearka grinned and continued to stare at the wall ahead of him, allowing her to continue stroking his arms.
"'s it over?" he asked, referring to the war.
"Yea," she sighed, "General La Fllaga's dead- he saved the whole ship from enemy fire…"
"Really?" Dearka's eyes widened in disbelief, "Old man?"
She nodded her head slowly and confirmed it. "I can't believe it either."
"War doesn' leave winners an' losers, on'y victims," he sighed, closing his eyes momentarily.
"Dearka…" her eyes softened.
"Yea, I think it's pretty cool too…. Think I read it some'ere in one of the old man's magazines…"
Miraillia rolled her eyes. "Hmph. I thought you made that up."
"Must've made me look 'ntelligent, huh?"
Typical Dearka. Leave it to him and his big ego to still stay intact even after all the injuries he'd sustained.
"In your dreams, soldier boy."
"Aw come on," he pouted, "Ya gotta admit, I did look smart!"
"Whatever," she smiled, giving him a light slap on the arm.
"Oi!" he reacted, "Are we forgetting who's injured here?"
"You don't look like it," she rolled her eyes again. "And besides, I thought you weren't supposed to talk."
"Orders, orders, orders. Even when I'm in bed an' injured, you people just don't cut back on the orders, don't ya?" he broke out into a huge grin. "Leave me alone, girl, I can do whatever the damn hell I want."
He glanced at her and gave one of his usual arrogant I-am-Dearka Elsman-and-I-am-the-man smirks, just to tell her that he wasn't being serious.
But then again, knowing Dearka, you never really knew.
Miraillia stopped laughing long enough before she went back to their conversation.
"I'm serious, Dearka," she took an even more serious tone "I thought you weren't supposed to talk."
"Whassa matter with you, girl?" his brows creased in confusion, "You don't like seein' me talkin'?"
"It's just that Yzak-san-"
"Nobody listens to Yzak anyway," he paused, "Least I know I don't."
"Which is why you're never going to get any better."
"What do you mean by that? I already am better!"
"Yea right," she gave an unbelieving look
He opened his mouth to form a reply, but a forceful, hacking cough came out instead. It continued into a series of more painful coughs, each getting louder and rougher than the last.
"You moron," she scolded gently as she massaged his chest, careful not to hit his wounds, "Now look at what's happened."
"Told you an' Yzak," he winced, each syllable giving him fresh pain, hurting him even more than before, "'M fine."
The coughs started again, with painful aches spreading all over with each gasp of air he took. It was like drowning and losing air fast, only he wasn't underwater.
"Ssh," she soothed, her fingers now massaging his temples, "Just ssh. You'll be fine, I'm here."
Minutes passed and her right hand was resting on his head, playing with a few loose strands of his hair. His coughs had subsided and he was already feeling better. His chest moved regularly now and each breath was not as painful as before.
"I have to go," she whispered, her voice tickling his ear, "But I'll be back tomorrow, don't worry."
"Tha's a promise," he smiled, his eyes already starting to drop.
"Of course it is," she leaned over and kissed his forehead, "Get well soon, Dearka."
"Aa," he muttered sleepily, "Tha's a promise too."
She stood before the door, as if hesitating, then threw back a glance at Dearka.
"Thanks," she whispered, "For protecting us- for everything."
His eyes had already closed, but he grinned. And then, he slowly drifted into sleep, his snores loud, regular and deep, with that goofy grin never really disappearing.
She smiled and stepped out of the room, coming face-to-face with Yzak.
The door closed suddenly and she let out a startled yelp when she finally realized who it was.
"Yzak-san!"
"Haww-san," he nodded.
She stiffened shortly. She wasn't used to being called Haww.
"Thank you for the medicine you gave Dearka."
"Medicine?" she asked, startled.
"You, of course," he smiled a little at her surprise, "He's never been this happy before and he was able to talk too."
"Oh, I uh-"
"Thank you so much. You don't know how much this means to me- how much this means to him." he bowed deeply.
"Yzak-san…" she bowed back, slightly embarrassed at the sudden flow of respect, "Thanks, but you didn't really have to do that."
"A-aa," he stood up straighter and stiffened his back.
"At ease, soldier," she smiled as he gave her a small, genuine smile of his.
Yzak relaxed and leaned back onto the wall.
"Dearka and I used to make fun of Athrun, because he was in love with a Natural. We thought that it just wouldn't work out you know, but now, I'm beginning to see what Athrun sees in that Natural girlfriend of his. So, thank you."
"No problem," she nodded at him.
"Listen, uh…" he said, fishing around in his pocket, "If ever Dearka's bugging you, you just give me a call and I'll come over and kick his ass for you." he handed her his calling card in one of his rare moments of friendliness.
"Much obliged," she smiled at him, as she, in turn, took the card.
He nodded and sent her a quick salute before entering the room.
She turned away and slowly floated to the canteen, where she was sure that a small party was being held. She tucked the card into her pocket, realizing that this Yzak was different from the Yzak she'd heard from Dearka ("…crazy asshole. He's my buddy an' I'll always be there behind him in case he gets his hot-headed ass into trouble.")
She smiled. Wasn't it supposed to be the other way around?
She stopped for a second before turning the corner as she glanced back at the hallway.
Yzak Joule wasn't a soldier. He was a friend.
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Inside Dearka's room, all was quiet, save for the soft buzzing of the fluorescent light, the humming of the ventilation and said patient's loud snores.
Normally, Yzak would get annoyed with this (he was Dearka's roommate at the military academy), as the snores were loud enough to give him many sleepless nights. It was one of the things Yzak hated about his best friend, but, for now, he was going to let it pass. At least, this way, he'd know if Dearka was all right.
Yzak sighed, and in that one sigh, out came the pent-up tension and frustration he had stored since the war started. It had been a big day: the battle, the deaths of his comrades, the near-death of his friend and the girl who may have very well saved Dearka from a long, painful recuperation.
Everyone was sure to be looking for him back at headquarters, but he didn't care. For at this time, at this moment, his friend needed him more than his country did.
He pulled a chair and set it near the bed. He sat down on it and glanced at the beautiful, starry night sky outside the window.
"I guess Naturals aren't all that bad, ne Dearka?"
A loud exhale of air snored in approval.
He smiled and finally relaxed further in his chair, just watching his friend sleep like that.
Time passed and the lights-out alarm sounded. Almost immediately, all the lights in all the rooms aboard the Archangel closed, filling the entire vessel with darkness. Neither soldier seemed to mind; both were (at last) enjoying a peaceful sleep, devoid of images of their fallen comrades and of the war.
It was the first peaceful sleep either of them had in quite a while.
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A/N: Please tell me what you think and tell me (please) if any of my tenses were inconsistent. I wasn't so sure about my tenses in here. Heh.