Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or make any profit from writing this.
Warnings: Occasional swearing, abusive situations later, annoying beaucrats.
A/N: Never thought I'd write enough of this to ever get it up! Please drop me a review and tell me what you think, all thoughts and comments gratefully and greedily appreciated. This is just exploring one possible senario of immediet events after the wars so not quite an AU but close enough - Anyway enjoy!
The Tribulations of Peace
By Corralero
Peace achieved, the shattered world and colonial governments were left facing overwhelmingly taxing and complex political problems, not in the least the pressing problem of how to deal with the five Gundam pilots responsible both for peace and massive amounts of devastation and war crimes. This particular problem reached further complexity, as the Gundam pilots were at that time all minors with no surviving direct relatives.
(M. Schoinsberg, The Complexity of Peace)
Chapter One - Negotiations
Government negotiator Boyster walked purposefully from the latest council meeting, his secretary along side, issuing rapid instructions.
"Contact Ms. Peacecraft, informing her of our latest decision. Assure her agreement has been reached, at least for this stage."
"Yes, sir."
"Ring the agencies. We need to have them placed as soon as possible."
"Yes, sir."
"Contact those handling press releases. Tell them to stall a little longer, until events are more settled."
"Yes, sir."
"That will be all. Thank you, Jenny."
He strode on as his secretary peeled off, looking more than a little frazzled. Her expression reflected the general air that had permeated governments across the Earth and beyond. Peace was a wonderful achievement but it was as hard work as a war, full of constant decisions, communications, hastily given explanations to avoid terse misunderstandings and full of problem after problem after problem. The largest and more persistent of those problems was currently on the other side of the door he was now facing. He idly studied its green-varnished surface as he gently knocked. One wouldn't have guessed just by looking that this door guarded the entrance to the room that held the five most remarkable and dangerous individuals on the planet. Slowly he entered the room, nodding at the guard beside the door.
"Good evening, gentlemen. My name is James Boyster. I don't believe we have had the pleasure of meeting before."
Five pairs of alert eyes met him and a tension so palpable you could have touched it. He may not have met them but he had been studying their profiles, or what profiles there was, and discussing their fate since 6.00 am that morning. Gundam Pilot 01, Heero Yuy stood forward from the table he had formerly leant against, placing himself between Boyster and the other four. Clearly the leader, Boyster noted. He met the official's gaze squarely, holding out his hand.
"No, we have not met before. My name is Heero Yuy." Boyster took the proffered hand, feeling the firm grip and calloused fingers. "Sitting behind me is Trowa Barton, Quatre Raberba-Winner and Duo Maxwell. And this is Wufei Chang."
Boyster followed the direction Heero indicated, rapidly analysing and placing facts to the names and faces. Quatre Raberba-Winner, millionaire heir, nodded politely and gave a tired yet welcoming smile. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr Boyster." The others remained silent, Barton watched him intently while Maxwell peered up at him from where he sat slumped opposite the two others, long chestnut strands obscuring his face, not unlike Barton's. The opposite to this apparition of casualness sat on the window ledge at the head of the table with sleek black hair pulled into a tight ponytail. Wufei Chang stood slowly and bowed to him, more out of force of habit it seemed than true pleasure.
"Will you not take a seat, Mr Boyster?" He inquired. Boyster flushed slightly. He had been so concerned over his observations he had forgotten his manners. Swiftly he sat at the other end of the table as Heero took the empty seat next to Maxwell.
"Has there been some problems, Mr Boyster? We were led to understand we should have heard your decision at lunch time by the latest."
The tone was neutral and Heero's face unnervingly unhelpful in indicating what the pilot was thinking.
"No, no. None at all. In fact, I have come to inform you now of our progress. There is no cause for worry." Assurances done, he took a steadying breath and began to talk.
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Half an hour later Heero was staring at the pen laid before him on top of a single sheaf of paper.
"So, are we agreed then? Queried Boyster.
Heero felt the pressure that had slowly been building up in his head develop into a full blown headache as his eyes silently travelled around the room collecting resigned nods of acceptance from Quatre, Trowa, Wufei…then cobalt eyes met with violet as Duo gave a vehement shake of his head, lips compressed in an unhappy line. Heero's headache got worse.
"Is there a problem, Mr Maxwell?"
"Like hell there is! I ain't goin' in ta foster care." Duo snapped, his face stubborn. The other four pilots gritted their teeth as Boyster began to recite the platitudes and reassurances from earlier.
"It's only for a four week period, to allow us to assess then reassure the various governments and populaces of your fitness to live in society. I assure you will be near-"
"I don't give a shi-"
Heero quickly intervened as Boyster's frown grew, "Duo, enough! Would you mind please if I spoke to Duo alone for a moment?"
Boyster reluctantly nodded as the three remaining pilots rose, casting irritated glances at the unrepentant slouching figure. As they filed out and quietly shut the door they heard Duo's distinctly sarcastic tone behind them.
"What ya gonna do, Heero? Sucker punch me inta this one?"
Wufei exhaled an annoyed sigh as the others exchanged significant glances. This might take awhile.
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Inside Heero glance coldly at his best friend.
"You obstruct our purpose now? Why did you not speak earlier?" The frustration was evident in his usually monotone voice.
"Only coz I couldn't fit a word in edgeways what with Mr I'm A Government Official goin' on." Duo snapped back. "I ain't gonna be shipped off ta one of those foster homes. Those places suck." To underlie his statement Duo folded his arms, looking stubbornly down at the table.
"You will do what ever the rest of us do, Duo" Heero warned "We've all accepted the conditions. You are outvoted."
"I don't care. I'm not doin' it!" Duo yelled back. Why wouldn't Heero understand? He hated foster homes. Duo jumped violently as Heero's fist slammed onto the tabletop.
"You will do whatever you are told to do, Maxwell. Stop acting like a spoilt child."
Duo opened his mouth to respond, indignation in his eyes, but the Perfect Soldier's thin patience snapped as he grabbed the front of Duo's shirt, hauling the smaller boy forward until they were nose to nose.
He growled into the shocked face, "This is important, Duo. Get that into your head and focus on the bigger picture. None of us like what we are being asked to do but it is necessary. Start acting with some maturity and responsibility for once in your life."
Duo looked at him wide eyed, as Heero shoved him back into his chair.
"Anything else?"
The braided pilot shook his head numbly. Heero took a slow deep breath then reopened the door, quietly inviting the others back in.
"I assume there are no further problems?" Boyster inquired testily, looking over to the subdued Duo Maxwell.
"No, sir." Heero replied.
Boyster began to produce yet more documents from his briefcase, explaining as he did so, "I suppose officially, considering your ages, we do not need this procedure. However under the present circumstances we deemed it best that you sign and give us your consent." The papers were handed around and silence fell once more as the pilots carefully read and one by one signed the statements before them.
Duo bit his lip unhappily, keeping his head low as he signed. Once done, the pen was flung roughly down, ink splattering the page that was shoved unceremoniously at Heero as the Deathscythe pilot stalked from the room in high dudgeon, his braid swinging angrily behind him. Concerned, Quatre began to rise but was halted by Trowa's hand.
"Let him be."
Papers signed and hands shook, Boyster left the room, promising to be in touch and reminding them to remain within the compound until further notice. The four remaining boys were left to file out slowly.
"What did you say to Duo?" Trowa inquired.
Heero rubbed a weary hand over his face in an unusual show of emotion. His voice, however, was as measured as always.
"I simply told him to broaden his perspectives. This was not about him alone."
Silent nods of affirmation confirmed that he had acted right. In truth Heero was frantically worried, not only about Duo but about all of them. The intensity and uncertainty of the last few weeks of peace and the last months of war had taken a severe toll. He could see it on the four faces before him. What was more, the role of leadership, despite the equality and teamwork between the Gundam pilots, appeared to have been placed upon him by external observers. Consequently, although the others, in particular Quatre, aided him, he had found himself leader, spokesperson and, often, negotiator.
The enormity and importance of what was taking place caused his head to ache. It seemed strange that he, who had easily dealt with missions to save both the world and colonies, was struggling with a mission for peace. Yet this mission could not be completed with bullets and explosives but by words and appearances, while your every move was analysed by those proclaiming to be your allies. They, who had given so much for peace, must not fail. Why couldn't Duo see that?
TBC