OUT OF THE STORM By Towairaito
CHAPTER ONE – Waking Up
The process of waking up was a painful one. She couldn't open her eyes since they were heavy with invisible weights so she decided to leave it alone for a while. Her head, she noted laboriously, was throbbing so vilely that the effort was too much. And the weather outside sounded so bad that it seemed wise to stay where she was a little longer. The howling wind struck the rain against the windows, but after a while she stirred unwillingly. Weather or no weather, if she was awake, she could never get back to sleep. Steeling herself against the pain in her head, she forced her eyes open, then stared in horror and shut them quickly, her heart thumping as she hid under the blanket. She lay rigid for a count of ten, eyes closed, and then poking her head out of the blanket, she opened them again.
It was no dream. The room was still there. It was small with a sloping ceiling and a pair of windows on one side of the room. And she'd never seen it before in her life. She stared, shaking slightly from the cold, at white-painted walls, a heavy oak chest, and the wooden frame of the bed she was on. As she heaved herself up against the pillows, she discovered she was wearing a man's shirt, white and large on her figure, and she'd never seen that before, either.
She thrust back the blankets and moved herself to a sitting position, her feet dangling over the edge of the bed. She was very still for a moment, taking it all in, and the room revolving around her like a merry-go-round as the pain in her head hammered and receded to a bearable throb. Slowly the mist in front of her eyes cleared. She breathed in slowly and regularly a few times, and then got shakily to her feet.
By doing so, she felt as if the floor was heaving about beneath her feet like a deck of a ship. Blindly, she grabbed the bed post that she willingly held onto. This is no ordinary headache, she thought grimly. Seeing a chair standing between the two windows, she lunged for it and collapsed on the chair in the rush, leaning her head against the cold wall.
There was some time before she could stand up with all her might and rest her hands on the window sill. As she looked outside though the window, her blood ran cold. Not that there was much to see, only a stretch of land broken by jutting rocks. And beyond that was nothing but sullen grey sky and miles of stormy, heaving sea.
Panic surged inside her, taking her breath away. She fought it, leaning on her clenched fists, her eyes closed until a wave of terror receded, leaving her limp and breathless. Where in Selene's name was this place? What was she doing here?
She was so tense that she didn't see a man appear at the doorway. "You shouldn't be up."
She turned wildly and staggered, her hands groping for the wooden rail of the bed. Her breath quickened painfully. She took in the dark brown unruly hair and muscular shoulders as she stared at the tall man holding a tray. She watched him place the tray on the bedside table and suddenly she found herself placed on the bed in turn.
The man tucked the blanket around her and straitened, eyeing the petrified face irritably.
She shrank away in undisguised terror as he sat down at the edge of the bed, reaching for her hand. She snatched her hand away, burrowing deeper in the covers.
His eyes glittered coldly. "You're in no danger from me, I assure you."
The voice was monotone; yet, she noticed, was deep and sent shivers down her spine. And even in her present state of fear and confusion, she found the man handsome, in a somewhat brooding way. The cold Prussian eyes that bore into hers so impersonally were set underneath sharp eyebrows and shadowed with slight fatigue. His lips were pressed thinly and seemed he was bothered, and there was also something about him that told her to stay in bed and stay beneath the sheets.
She cleared her throat and felt mucus rise. "Where am I?" Grimacing, she realized that her voice was hoarse and scratchy. "And who are you?"
"I was going to ask you the same thing." He countered abruptly and leaned forward. "Give me your hand."
Her eyes narrowed in alarm. "Why?"
"Your pulse." The man was getting impatient. "I'm a doctor, not some fortune teller."
Embarrassed, she extended her hand to him, and the man held his wrist loosely between long, slender finger with his eyes on his watch. "How's your head?" He asked.
"It's aching. Very badly." It seemed to her that this man could have been a solider back then. But that was only a hunch.
Still looking at his watch, he said, "You've hit your head." He looked at her with a knowing gaze with his cold-looking eyes as he noticed her pulse racing faster. "Scared?"
She nodded dumbly, and he smirked, letting go of her wrist quickly. Nodding was a bad idea, for the movement combusted pain into her skull and she gasped, her face contorted.
"You're head will improve." He stated plainly. "Now, who are you?" He sounded as if he was more curious than concerned for her health. "To keep things strait, we're on an island called Wing, just off the coast of Japan. I am Heero Yuy, a consultant physician, and I own this land." He looked at her commandingly. "Who are you and why the hell are you trespassing on my property?"
She gazed at him in disbelief; she could not believe this man! His island? A doctor? At least she knew where she was now...Only one question remained now which bothered her to an extent, "I don't know...who I am...and I don't know how I got onto your island, Dr. Yuy. My mind's blank." Her teeth caught her lower lips as she trembled in realization, "Who am I?"
Dr. Yuy rose to his feet and looked at her and said nothing. His stare was the only this that told her, "You expect me to believe that bullshit!"
She cringed, she was so afraid that she couldn't trust her voice. "I know you don't want me here, but that's the truth! I-I don't know who I am, not even my own name!"
He studied her face and she squirmed under his gaze. He turned, suddenly, towards the forgotten tray he had brought in earlier and turned back towards the woman in the bed, holding a bowl of soup. "Eat."
"I don't think I can eat right now." she said, holding her stomach. "I'm too nauseas." Although the food does look delicious. She thought to herself.
"Eat," he commanded, gesturing to the bowl in his hands. "Otherwise, you're not getting any medication for that headache, or the information of how I found you."
She struggled to sit upright in bed, clenching her teeth from the effort. Another wave of pain hit her skull. She rested against the pillows, breathing shallowly until the pain subsided. "Alright," she finally muttered.
Dr. Heero Yuy nodded in approval and handed her the bowl with a spoon. Straitening himself out, he turned to the door and was about to walk out when he heard the woman ask, "Where are you going?"
"Going downstairs to make tea and toast-"
"Can you put butter on it?" She interrupted, eyes lighting up with hope, almost innocent-like. Well, at least I remember something I like...
She saw one of his eyebrows arch in interest as he looked at her, but it disappeared quickly as he turned and walked out of the room. But as a second thought, he turned back around to face her once again with heated Prussian eyes, "Don't think your stay is welcomed here. As soon as I find out who you are, where you're from and who you work for, I'm kicking you out of my home for good."
She could only look on with a heated stare as he walked out of the room. She was furious; could he not see that she was telling the truth? But try as she might to keep hating him, a thought crossed her mind to explain her first impression of the so-called "doctor", what a weird man...
CHAPTER 2: IN THE MIRROR IS NEXT!
Author's Notes: I know Heero is somewhat OOC, so I'll try to keep him true to his real character. BTW, have you figured out the girl in the story yet? It should be quite obvious to you Gundam Wing AC/SailorMoon readers by now...or maybe not.
I have a feeling that this fic will have many chapters to come. So please! Read and Review, and comments and flames are encouraged!
Towairaito