July 23rd -AC 195
In the days that have followed my last log files we have undergone a change of safe houses. I have finally been granted leave to move about, of course, in small bouts and with instructions to limit extraneous activities. With this freedom finally being officially given, coupled with the fact that I am again able to breathe a little more clearly, the five of us began to speak on the practicality of staying with the Maganac Corps. In all reality, although they are by all means far from the prying eyes of our enemies, they are likewise a great distance away from any potential target that we will have.
In the end, the four of us agreed to move despite Quatre's protests. He had expressed the wish for us to remain with them due to the need for a continued medical team to ensure Maxwell and my healing continued to progress as seamlessly as we have been so far. However, it was agreed that the continued proximity to the next mission was far more important to allow for better preparation.
In the short few hours after this decision was agreed upon we took what we needed and also gathered what few belongings each of us possessed. The next thing to decide was who I would travel with. Either way I would need to spend the duration of the journey in one or another of the pilot's cockpits while they flew their Gundams. I was grateful when Trowa spoke up to offer his own Gundam before Maxwell could suggest that I travel with him.
I have very little tolerance for the braided fool's continued blathering as it is in the containment of our assigned bedroom. The only benefit I could see from traveling with him for the hours that it would take to reach our next safe house was the close quarters of the cockpit would ensure I would be able to throttle the American and at long last end his verbal torment of me.
With this decided, the five of us thanked Rashid and his comrades one last time for the assistance they had offered us and then piled into the Gundams. The journey would be uncomfortable, after all, I was seated behind Heavyarms' seat. The mobile suit lurched now and then as the four of them had to change altitude to counter turbulence or avoid detection. The whole thing was perhaps not the most unpleasant travel experience I have encountered, however, with my still healing surgical wound and the injured lung it was rather painful at times. Even for my heightened tolerance.
This was something I had discovered early on during this war. Though my body did not respond to temperatures and outward pain like most of my comrades do, I have noticed that the internal damages I have encountered in my time here on earth do in fact still hurt quite as vividly as I would expect. I suppose it is thanks to my training that I can compartmentalize my pain and ignore it more easily and for this I am grateful
The time spent in Heavyarms did give me ample time to speak with Trowa privately and I told him much more of the details about the rescue than I had previously. The other's insights into what I had encountered and perceived upon my initial rescuing of the braided baka were interesting. He seemed genuinely troubled by the other's apparent appearance and the things I had heard members of the guards speaking of.
When I told him about what had transpired while I lay resting he was silent for a long while before finally he spoke blatantly for the first time since I have known the banged teen. He out right told me that he could not hope to understand the full range behind someone else's emotions and that I should speak with Maxwell in regards to my confusion if I wished for clarification as to why he had kissed my cheek. However, as I watched the silent teen I noticed a faint look of uncertainty cross his face - followed by something I am not entirely sure I know how to classify.
I did notice him glancing to the screen that had Sandrock's position displayed. This very action caught my attention mostly because of the uncertain expression that had crossed over the male's face. Never before in my experience with Trowa had I seen anything other than his calm demeanour. The fact that he seemed upset over something did not entirely bode well. However, I was not able to pinpoint exactly what it was I had said to him that had caused this reaction.
In the silence that followed this I watched him for a long while as he seemed to shake off whatever it was he was thinking that bothered him. His eyes left the screen and glanced to each of the other two's locations and status. The banged male's body visibly relaxing after a time and an obvious effort put into doing so from Trowa.
"Let's not tell Quatre about the condition you found Duo in. I do not think it will do any good at the moment."
Although I do not really understand how the condition Maxwell had been in when I rescued him would affect Quatre, I agreed. I suppose it probably has something to do with the underlying disturbance that had begun between the two pilots and even more so the blonde's clear and obvious guilt over having left Maxwell. I eventually agreed to keep the details to myself and Trowa relaxed entirely.
The rest of our trip was made in silence and I was more than content to rest off and on for the remainder of the time it took us to arrive. The safe house was a small cottage that Quatre had found in the mountains several hundred miles away from the next target. It was secluded, well hidden and would make a good central point for not only the immediate future's mission but there were over a dozen different manufacturing plants that would be reachable from this one location.
Upon arrival, however, I had the briefest of moments in which I cursed the Arabian. For as we stepped out of Heavyarms after hiding the suit in a cave behind the cottage, I felt the bitter bite of cold that hung in the air. While the freezing cold did not bother me I did find a sharpness on my inward breaths as the chill did much to aggravate my still healing injury.
The fact that snow littered the ground and came up to my shins was another thing that I did not approve of. After all, snow could complicate things that came with emergency situations. Having no Gundam at the moment there was much I had to keep in mind for such instances. I needed to know all routes from the cottage, where the best hiding places were. Including but not limited to caves and hollow trunks.
By the time I had counted the steps to my top three escape routes and began my trip back towards the cottage I could hear Maxwell cheering about the snow. The braided fool was standing in the open with his arms out on either side and his head tilted backwards. Watching him as he stood with his eyes closed and his tongue out to catch any wayward snowflakes that happened to land upon the aforementioned appendage I could not help but wonder -how had this idiot gotten us out of one of OZ's high security bases with one single Gundam?
Could there be more to the braided American than what was visible? I had and have witnessed his abilities both with piloting his Gundam and in battle. From past experiences I can honestly say that he has demonstrated a tendency to change during the heat of a fight. His usually childish demeanour disappears and his strategy sharpens. Perhaps he is a more formidable soldier than I have given him credit for?
The thought died quickly as the moment was broken as Maxwell shrieked loudly as he apparently managed to catch a snow flake. I cringed inwardly as his eyes opened to meet mine and that doofus grin slipped across his face. In the moment it took me to decide that everything I had just been wondering about the American was obviously not the case he had already begun walking towards me and begun yammering at me. This left me physically trying to force myself not to reach for my gun and plant a bullet straight between the baka's eyes.
An hour has passed and I have made my stand here in one of the three rooms that are available in this place. Perhaps a small cottage like this was the most ridiculous idea we have had for a safe house in a while. After all, I have blocked the door to this room baring anyone else from entering the room. With this accomplished I am more than positive everyone in the entire cottage can hear the baka's voice as he is, even now, yelling for me to open the door from the other side.
This time I refuse. He will either sleep on the couch or bunk down with Wufei. The thought frankly has brought a few, what I suppose would be considered "amusing", scenarios to mind. Most of them involving Wufei, Maxwell and the baka being suffocated or taken out in some manner by the Chinese pilot.
Somehow I do not see this being a peaceful intermission between missions...
01
Heero grunted somewhat and then decided that it was time for him to retire for the night. He took one last glance in his email and found the two emails he had received in response to his previous messages that evening. Duo's reply simply saying he was looking forward to seeing him while Trowa's was filled with some of the information about the wedding that had not been available in the initial invitation.
Things like the date and time of the tuxedo fitting that he and Wufei would be attending. Duo apparently was making arrangements to meet Quatre's specific tailors some time during his trips for work and so he would not be present while the blonde and banged male would also be absent. This being due to a ribbon cutting ceremony they would be attending on L2 for one of the community remodelling projects the Arabian's company had been pushing through in the last few years.
There was also the address of the guest rooms that were available for him to arrive a day or so before the wedding. All in all Heero estimated that the entire trip to the location picked by the two ex-Gundam pilots would take about four days. Seeing as how as the best man for Trowa he felt he should make sure that he was available to help out as much as possible. According to Trowa, Duo was handling their music arrangement and had given them the name of a really fantastic catering company that they were going to be using.
This left Heero with only the speech that was customary for a best man - which brought up the uncomfortable fact that he would have to write something befitting such an emotional event as a wedding. Frowning, Heero sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair, not entirely feeling he was particularly suited for such a task. The dark haired ex-Perfect Soldier decided to postpone any attempts to write anything and he would seek the advice of his counsellor and perhaps Nick. The purple haired male had apparently loved the idea of a best man toast while not having one due to the small size of his and Ben's wedding.
This decided, Heero stood up and closed down his computer. He took the few minutes it required to wash his cup and leave it to dry in the rack before wandering off to bed.
If Heero had been any other person he probably would feel rather horrible at the moment. He was standing watching his colleagues running through their circuits of the training tests. As it was, despite his lessened sleep he had just finished his own and was particularly pleased with his apparent record breaking time. The instructor had even informed him that he had beaten Wufei's obstacle time by two whole minutes, of course, he had informed him of this privately after.
Despite the accomplishment Heero could definitely feel the fatigue from having stayed up late every night this week. His muscles were tenser than normal and he was far more sore in some areas than was usual for something as simple as the tasks he had been told to perform. This was nothing like jumping out of a window or self-destructing. However, he had not needed to maintain such a strict control on his body since the war so perhaps it was adjusting. If this was the case he would have to evaluate the damages done to himself by neglecting to get the full night's sleep as he had been.
"Agent Yuy! Since you have completed the test Lady Une would like for you to report directly to Doctor Taylor's office for an extra session."
This was Instructor Davidson. He was a short middle age man that despite his slighter height had the frame of a fighter. He was solid muscle and had a definite air of strength about him. Heero had witnessed this man bring down an agent twice his size in some of the previous combat drills their intake had been put through so the dark haired ex-pilot knew he was a formidable opponent. Although nowhere in his own league, Heero respected the man.
Nodding to let him know that he heard him Heero turned to wander off towards the changing rooms. Taking the time to shower and dress into his uniform Heero stopped to glance into the mirror and frowned faintly at the slight sign of sleep deprivation that he could see in the face of the male looking back at him.
Heero was at least several centimetres taller than he had been during the war. In fact he was happy to say he had almost matched Trowa in height by the time the two of them stopped growing. His frame was still slender and solid but had lost some of its concrete edge to it. He looked less stony and was now actually a pretty fine looking young man in comparison to some of the people Heero had learned were "appealing" to others. His face had not changed that much and except for the bangs which he allowed to grow a little longer than he had previously, Heero kept his hair relatively the same as he always had. He did trim it short every now and then as was healthy for its growth, however, it was currently very much like it had been during the war.
His eyes were very much changed. The look in them was not as icy and cold as Heero could remember seeing so often when he looked at himself. He could even see some of the pleasure he felt about his appearance in the eyes of the male looking back at him. The other thoughts and emotions running both consciously and subconsciously through him could vaguely be detected within those Prussian blues. Only the faintest darkening of the skin under his telling the tale of his late nights.
Turning from the mirror once his Preventer's jacket was done up fully Heero made his way from the changing room and made the short trip up to the counsellor's office. In all, honestly Heero was not surprised what so ever by the assignment to visit her even though he was not scheduled to speak with her again until the end of the week.
Lady Une had informed him that with the approval of Doctor Taylor they would be putting him directly into the line of action and with a little more clearance most likely moving him into the special projects that they were trying desperately to recruit candidates for. It was not unexpected that she would try and push as many sessions as possible to get the approval they wanted and Heero felt would be granted shortly.
The hour went by quickly, Heero having made a point of keeping his logs as he had agreed to do upon the beginning of his position here. In it he had been making sure to write down everything he had noticed about his observations in his life and the growing agitation that had begun to form from the things he was learning about that time in his life. The longest of his logs having been the one he had recently written where he had picked apart and analyzed everything he was feeling about the upcoming reunion of the five pilots and he had even gone so far as the include his uncertainty about what he was expecting.
He felt himself taping his foot a little in agitation as she reached this particular report. His arms crossing over his chest in a subconscious attempt to shield himself even as he rose to his feet to make the crossing to the window that was often his favorite place to stand. He could hear her pause a few times and make notes and he could only assume that the female had reached his admission to his confusion about meeting Duo after so long, along with the newest information about what had happened to the braided pilot during the war.
"You feel...protective of Duo Maxwell?"
It took Heero several seconds to realize that the words were not a statement but instead a question. He blinked and then turned to meet her eyes as she stared at him from across the room. He could not fathom where she may have gotten that from. After all, he had not even seen the American in five years, and had only conversed with him once over the phone.
The look that crossed over her face was a mix of a smirk and a grin as she watched him where he stood. Her eyes were scanning his face and clearly making some sort of assessment of his reaction to her words. She turned her gaze downwards and began writing something on the pad of paper that was a constant in these sessions.
Stepping across the room Heero felt the instinct to ask her what she was writing. Unlike the many times before he was a little unsure as to what exactly she was reacting to in his behaviour. The two of them stood in silence for what felt like minutes before at last she put her pen down and motioned for Heero to sit down across from her. Which he did with a small bit of hesitation.
"You have been making amazing progress with your emotions Heero. I can see a definite difference since we first met. It is slow and it will continue to be so but I know that you can differentiate between basic emotions. I have also noticed that you without knowing it have surrounded yourself with people that you deem have the aspects of the pilots that you like and respect. That is good. This has helped you in learning to interact with people.
"I have been asked for an update about your emotional stability should you be sent into the field. I will say that with what I have been privy to, I am confident that you will be able to handle yourself just fine."
The smile she wore was a faint thing. But she seemed pleased, with a smallest of grins pressing the corner of her lip upwards as she looked down at the paper she was now holding out for Heero to take. Heero meeting DoctorTaylor's eyes in a moment of hesitation before reaching forward to accept the form.
Glancing over it Heero was even more surprised to see that the final recommendation of the doctor was clear as day upon the paper she had given him. In bold letters the counsellor had written that Heero was in fact clear to be put into the field. She had remarked about his tremendous ability to adapt and learn to cope with situations as they arose and requested that he return once a month for a while in order for her to continue to watch over Heero's mind set.
Looking up from the paper work, Heero met her eyes and nodded before hesitating a moment, before finally sitting down across from her once more. He had the strangest of sensations that was coursing through him and he was working to diagnose what it was. It took Heero several minutes before he realized that he was ... lamenting the end of his weekly counselling sessions?
"If I wished to continue to make an arrangement to speak with you should I need it what paperwork would I have to fill out?"
Heero did not miss the slight quirk of her brow nor the flickering of something that passed over her eyes. The counsellor tilted her head a moment and then let the smirk that seemed to be fighting against her composure slip onto her face.
Without a word she pulled out several papers and passed them to Heero and then sat back down her hands folded over her lap. They sat in silence for a time before she began to speak once more. She discussed the steps that he would need to take in order to set up a regular session with her as well as reassuring him that should he need to speak with her about something that may come up suddenly, Heero could still call her and she would do what she could to be available to help him.
The entire situation left Heero feeling rather satisfied as he at long last rose to his feet and nodded back at her once before walking from the office. Heero did not hesitate in taking his newly signed paperwork straight to his supervisor who informed him that he would be passing it along to the higher ups as soon as possible. With this task accomplished, Heero was not surprised to find an email waiting for him by the time he returned from lunch.
The email itself was a detailed description of the new team he would be working with as of the next day. Included with it were the files for a mission they had already headed off on with the information that he would need to be ready to meet up with them the next day. With this information Heero collected the few personal effects he had about his desk and said a goodbye to his desk mate.
All in all, the rest of his day and his early evening had gone by quite quickly. Reporting into Lady Une's office to let her know that he had received his new assignment he had made the journey home. Which was exactly where Heero was that very moment - lowering himself into his place upon his couch and leaning forward to switch his laptop on.
A bag was filled with the things he would need for the assignment he had been given. He could feel the faintest of thrumming inside of his chest. There was something both alarming and reassuring about the preparation for a mission. Heero was not sure if the time he had been reading his old log files had woken something inside of him. However, Heero could feel an easiness slipping over him as his mind ran over the checklists of what he had and what he had yet to pack for the trip, so much like he had done so many times during the war prior to a mission.
Relaxing in the dim light of his computer screen he hesitated as he glanced to the clock. There was still an hour before he should turn in for the evening. Thinking about this and looking at the properties of the file Heero felt safe in determining that he should be able to complete this log before then. With this settled, Heero double clicked on the icon to open the next file.
July 25th - AC 195
As I expected the time here in the small little three bedroom shack that has become our most current safe house has been disturbing. In the early hours of the first night a commotion began from the direction of Wufei's rooms. The yelling and cursing that was coming from there were violent in nature and switched frequently from English to Chinese and back again.
I did not bother to go and see what was the cause of the problem. The words "you buffoon" were enough to inform me of all I needed to know in retards to the situation. Clearly Maxwell had managed to aggravate the Chinese pilot...something I am by no means surprised about.
There was a while in which the yelling was accompanied by the sounds of things smashing so I can only assume that Wufei was attempting to cause the braided fool bodily harm. This could either by attempting to physically throttle the American or by throwing something at him. This, however, did not last long as the voices of the other two pilots soon joined the fray. After this occurred things did not continue for much longer.
The silence that followed the previous commotion was all the louder as it spoke volumes to the tension that still filled the safe house. When I woke up the next morning and made my way to the safe house's barely there kitchenette Maxwell was laying upon the couch sporting a black eye to match the healing one that he had received by the hands of the OZ interrogators. Despite this, he seemed at peace or at the very least dead to the world as I passed him by.
The day since then has been one that has both bothered and annoyed me. The interactions between Maxwell and Wufei have been all the more violent for the altercation that passed between them in the night. For which Wufei places all blame upon the braided baka for waking him up by shouting. Personally I can sort of understand where Wufei is coming from when he describes being woken by Maxwell in the middle of the night...although there is no reasoning behind why such an action would cause violence of that level.
As things progressed, however, I had no choice but to relent to allowing Maxwell to move his things into my room. After all, as Trowa explained to me earlier, someone who is hurt cannot fully recover without proper sleep and Maxwell would not be able to rest fully while living on the couch. Despite the soundness of his sleep earlier this morning could dispute this fact I will also assume that the late night activities as well as the long hours spent piloting Deathscythe in order to be here may have attributed much of his exhaustion which allowed him to sleep so soundly.
Time will tell if I will come to regret this decision to do this at the request of the banged male as Trowa had been rather insistent for once that Duo be allowed to stay with me. Something he has never done before so I will indulge Trowa this one thing - after all, if worse comes to worse I can simply throw him out of the room once more.
This seems to have actually occurred to Maxwell as well since he has been oddly silent since he settled in on the second bed that occupies the room...however, in light of the events that happened later in the day perhaps this was rather to do with those events than any insights the braided fool may have had running through his brain.
The events I am speaking of happened this morning. In the early morning I woke as usual to the smell of something that Quatre was cooking. The blonde often cooks meals for the five of us when we are all together. I cannot understand the Arabian's desire to see all of us seated at a table together enjoying a meal. Perhaps this stems from the fact that he was raised in a large family and this was something that he is used to seeing or maybe it is the fact that he wishes to instil a semblance of connection between all of us. Whatever the case I have since become accustomed to this familiar wake up call, despite the fact I had in all honesty been awake for several hours at that point.
During the night just before dawn Maxwell had awoken me through the sounds of his thrashing upon his bed. I lay in the room listening in silence as he fought violently against his sheets and swore softly at some unseen enemy. Those swear words and cussing soon faded to grunts of what I can only assume was some perceived pain? At very least that was what it seemed like to me. In the midst of these grunts and whimpers he woke with a shout.
Without opening my eyes I could tell in the silence of the room that he was struggling to settle his breathing. The shuddering sounds of his gasping for air were muffled and distorted, leading me to believe he had most likely pressed a pillow to his face to quiet himself. Time lapsed and eventually his breathing evened out and the strange, strangled sounds that he was making subsided. After a while more I could hear him rise from his bed and make his way out of the bedroom. He did not return to the room for several hours.
The strong scent of vanilla that followed him re-entering the room gave testimony to the fact that the time while Maxwell had been gone had been used to take a shower as I had often associated that smell with the shampoo he insisted on using on his extremely overly long hair. The braided fool for once seemed to actually consider someone other than himself, however, as he seemed to be attempting to be as silent as possible as he returned and then left again quite quickly.
So by the time I decided to make my way to the kitchenette to find out what Quatre had made for breakfast this morning I had been awake for almost four hours. This did not concern me seeing as how I am able to function for days on end without sleep so a few less hours was nothing bothersome. I was, however, surprised to find that while the other three were sitting at the make shift table eating already the braided baka was not present.
"Coffee's brewing."
This was all Wufei had to say to me when I made my presence known and so I in turn decided to ignore Wufei as I did not bother to acknowledge what the Chinese pilot said. Instead I simply allowed Quatre to put a plate of food together for me for when I returned while I side stepped them and made my way to where I would be able to get myself a cup of coffee. I wished to indulge in this one unhealthy substance that I had discovered early on in my association with these other pilots and I enjoyed it.
As I reached my destination, however, I spotted the pilot that had been missing previously. The braided pilot had his back to me and he appeared to be lost in thought. His cup was filled with coffee and the fact that the cream was out and open as well as the spoon still protruding from the sugar dish would state that he had finished making himself a cup. As I watched him Maxwell simply stood where he was as though tooted to the spot as he stared downwards into his coffee cup.
I believe I said something slight to catch the baka's attention but he did not seem to notice me. I know that I spoke again in a further attempt to get Maxwell to acknowledge me and move to no avail. Studying him I could see a faint trembling had taken hold of the American's limbs as he stood rooted to the spot.
The tremors travelled from one end of Maxwell to the other. Travelling up his back and causing his shoulders to quake faintly. The whole thing reminded me faintly of the beginnings of Maxwell's night terrors...as I have begun to call his episodes. He often grows deathly still in his sleep and the sounds follow the tremors that begin in his body.
Despite my best instincts to simply leave the idiot and return for my coffee later I, for some odd reason, felt inclined to reach out and touch the other's shoulder. The act itself is something I have seen Trowa do to Quatre at times, the blonde often jumping slightly when he is caught lost in thought and apologizing. I am not entirely sure if I was expecting the same with Maxwell...however, I was not expecting what followed my touching the other's shoulder.
In the time it took my fingers to brush against Maxwell's narrow shoulder the other had grown rigid and spun upon me. The only warning I had about the coming onslaught being the faintest shift in his arm that was quickly followed by the burning scalding of hot coffee that met my face first. This was the result of the coffee cup now trapped between his hand and mine.
The coffee, though stinging to have suddenly thrown in my face, was not the initial danger that had presented itself. It had simply been the aftermath of the fact that Maxwell had spun upon me, swinging his coffee mug straight for my head. It is probably only my sharper instincts and speed that stopped the action in time. For a moment I stood as I was, my fingers curled around the mug and studied Maxwell.
The braided fool was standing before me but only in body. Looking into those eyes of his was like staring into a blank slate coloured with fear and anger. Where ever Maxwell's mind was it was not here in this moment but perhaps from the rage I could see inside of him back with his captors in the Oz base? The moment I had to make these observations were cut short however as I saw Maxwell's brow furrow as somewhere in his panicked state he realized his original attack had been thwarted and he adjusted to follow through with another.
There was the sound of something cracking and breaking and even as I felt the pressure countering my grip upon the mug fall away suddenly, leaving me to stumble forward faintly in surprise. The braided pilot's hand was flying once more for my face, this time, however, the jagged handle, newly broken from the mug being used as his weapon.
I know that it was only my training as a soldier that saved me from the other then. I realized the mistake of assuming that his first attack was the extent of the danger. Even as I caught my balance I managed to throw myself backwards into the counter behind me. Not entirely surprised when Maxwell pressed his advantage, brandishing the sharp ceramic as easily as he would have his switch knife. Feeling the counter against my lower back I leaned over the porcelain of the countertop a moment to avoid yet another swing before snapping my left hand out to catch the wrist of Maxwell's right firmly.
In all the incident only took a matter of a few seconds so I was not surprised at all by the sudden commotion of the others rushing to respond to the fact that we were in the middle of an altercation. Quatre and Trowa rushed into the cramped space of the kitchenette. The blonde hesitating a moment before grabbing Duo's shoulders to pull the slightly skinnier pilot around to meet his eyes and call his name softly. While Trowa held a towel out for me to use to dry my hair even as his sharp eyes were studying my face to see the extent of my wounding.
It took several minutes until Maxwell seemed to snap out of whatever state had driven him to attack me, however, when he did he gasped faintly and spluttered madly to apologise. The most prominent of emotions I can understand was embarrassment as I observed the tinge of pink that covered his face as he reached to help dry me off and see if I had been burned under the soaked shirt I was now wearing. I had to threaten to kill him in order to make Maxwell shut up and leave me be as I placed both cup and handle down upon the counter to strip my shirt off over my head and allowed for Quatre to check over me.
Throughout the entire process I could feel Maxwell watching me. When at last I was given a clean bill of health I turned and saw Maxwell watching me with the oddest of expressions upon his face. A mixture of pain and ...something else, regret? Or perhaps remorse? I cannot be sure and the moment did not last long for as I caught his gaze, his eyes dropped looking instead to the now broken mug he held in his hands.
He studied the ceramic for a while before at last seeming to come to a decision as he turned to put both on the top of the garbage to go out later. With one last apology Maxwell fled the room and disappeared off somewhere into the safe house. When the music began blasting in the garage I could feel safe in assuming that he had gone off to train.
The entire situation was one that I easily brushed off, although the look inside of Maxwell's eyes stuck with me even as I went to our room and got changed. The look of sheer terror filled with so many other emotions...anger I could understand...pain...those were easy...but there were others...the look from afterwards when he was upset over having attacked me was somewhat similar...could it be labelled as… "shame".
At that point I found a slight uncomfortable sensation I have never encountered before in my chest so I chose to drop that train of thought. Opting to instead return to the kitchen and eat the breakfast I had never gotten around to eating before the incident with Maxwell had occurred.
What I saw when I walked back into the living spacer made me still and watch in silence for a few moments. Standing near the window when I arrived was Quatre, the blonde having his back mostly to me. The reflexion in the mirror however was enough to show me the upset expression Quatre wore. Quatre's eyes were sad and he looked somewhat like he had been or was on the verge of crying.
Before I had done more than notice this fact, Trowa obscured a larger portion of the blonde from my view as he leaned over the smaller male in that embrace I have often heard called a hug. Trowa wrapped his arms around Quatre for a long moment and I could hear the faintest of sounds as Trowa murmured in Quatre's ear. Whatever he said I could not hear, however, the blonde turned in his arms and said something back just as softly before leaning in.
The act of kissing is not something I am schooled in. Never have I had any need to study the art of anything sexual in nature or even physical in more than fighting and coercion. What little I do know of these things are entirely limited to the basics of them pertaining to when a male and a female are either sexually attracted to one another or have deemed the other worthy of exchanging DNA in attempts to procreate an offspring. Never in the limited teachings I received had I ever heard anything of these things occurring between two males.
Despite this, however, the two before me were quite obviously exchanging a moment of physical comfort and they appeared to be quite enjoying it. The way the two of them pressed against one another, Quatre seeming to cling to Trowa while the usually silent pilot cradled him was one I will most likely never understand or forget. The moment they shared broke apart suddenly as Quatre gasped as he opened his eyes to see me watching them. The blonde jumped away from Trowa his eyes wide as he met my gaze.
The two stared at me and then at one another before putting distance between each other. They separated themselves from each other's arms as if they could take back the moment I had walked in on through this act of denial. Whatever they hoped to do, however, I was filled with far more questions then I even now know how to articulate fully.
"Heero...umm."
Quatre attempted to say something to me at that point but lapsed into silence once again when I met his gaze. His cheeks flushing that colour that would suggest he was embarrassed by the fact that I had seen what had transpired between him and Trowa.
I watched the two of them for a few more seconds before allowing myself to cross the room to the by now abandoned table. I do not know where Wufei was but he was not present in the room so I simply lowered myself into my seat and began to eat my breakfast. Even as I was devouring my food, surprisingly hungry for a change, I could feel the two of them watching me.
I simply ignored them and allowed them to watch me while I accomplished my task. However, as I was finished again I allowed myself to partake in some of the things I was analysing in my head. I could see Quatre's face twist with embarrassment as I asked him why they were kissing, what about it was so comforting.
Trowa was the one that chose to answer me and he seemed to almost shelter Quatre with his body as he spoke with me. Which I allowed since I was getting my questions answered after all. The conversation was long and quite informative for me. Trowa doing all of the talking as I asked about why people would become engaged in a physical relationship at such a dangerous situation as being a part of a war. The explanation he gave was satisfactory and I chose to let it lapse into silence after a while as I noticed that Quatre was not the only one out of the two that seemed to be uncomfortable.
The faintest tinges of pink were firmly in place upon Trowa's cheeks and the usually silent pilot seemed to be trying to slowly steer Quatre from the room now that I seemed satisfied. I wasn't opposed to their leaving, after all, I had my answers and they both seemed to wish for the conversation to end. However, there was one last thing I needed answered. Something I had read previously in an attempt to understand what was going on with Maxwell coming to mind, I had simply pushed it aside since the situation could not apply to my male comrade.
"If two males can kiss - can they also engage in the act of sexual gratification?"
Trowa grew an odd shade of crimson at this question and he seemed to splutter faintly as he processed my question. It took a while before at last he answered me.
"Yes, Heero. Two males can engage in sex just as a man and a woman can."
This information was surprising to me. From what I knew of the female body from my study of the human body, they possessed a part of the body that men did not. The reason for male's engaging in sexual intercourse with woman came from human's urges to reproduce. This was why women were born with wombs to allow for the growth of infants and why they had the ability to give birth. So how without the necessary parts did a man and a man have sex?
When I asked Trowa this same question he grew an odd combination of pale and red. I got the distinct feeling that he wished to be somewhere else and he sent Quatre from the room, the blonde all to happy to flee the living room. Despite obviously not wishing to speak on the matter, with Quatre now gone, Trowa explained the basics of the ways males can have sex with one another. This new information, however, only made that previously dismissed article stand out in my brain more.
"So if males can kiss one another and have sex with one another - can males rape each other?"
The look of rage and anger that passed over Trowa's face was answer enough before he had even bothered to nod. With this I am finally able to explain the knot that has been forming in my stomach as I witness Maxwell's slow recovery. Though his body is healing quickly, his personality and mental state are still obviously damaged.
I am unsure but perhaps it was because of this sensation in my stomach that I stopped by the garbage after Trowa left. I had been about to scrap the left overs on my plate off into the garbage when I caught sight of the mug still sitting there on top of the pile. The mug itself was a simple thing. Black in colour with silver lettering spelling out "this day will never be repeated".
I could vaguely remember Maxwell finding this mug while he dragged me off to get groceries in one of the first few safe houses we had stayed in together. That was back when it had been only him myself and Quatre in the safe house. The image of the braided fool grinning as he saw the message seemed to rise to the surface. He had babbled something about that being so true. That every moment was different and that he could keep hoping that the next moment would be better someday...
Without really thinking about it I found myself holding the ceramic mug in my hands as I remembered that day. The smile on the idiot's face was something I had been baffled by. How could someone be so amused and pleased with something as simple as this? I twisted the cup around to study it and found only the simple, plain exterior and interior of the cup that had always been there, except for the ragged damage done where the handle had been broken off.
It really was a simple task to find the handle and only about forty minutes to glue the two pieces together and touch up the damaged places with some pain I found. When I was finished I was pleased that the damage that had been done was all but invisible except if you knew where it had been. Of course, the second I realized that I was happy about this trivial accomplishment I was and am to this very moment confused about this. It is as perplexing as how attached Maxwell seemed to be of this particular cup.
I will say though, that as I have been writing this log Maxwell came out of the garage and I can express a particularly large amount of satisfaction at the look he just sent me...for some reason the smile upon his face when he spotted that familiar cup sitting where he usually leaves it...just feels...nice.
Hmmm how odd. I will have to monitor these strange sensations and keep note of them if they continue.
01
Hey everyone. I would usually appologize for the long delay in posting this chapter, however this time i don't feel guilty about it. I have been preoccupied with two huge projects to benefit the Canadian cancer society and so my time, sadly diverted from writing and uploading this chapter, was put to a good cause. I am hoping that my schedual will calm down soon since one of the projects are now over so hopefully i will be able to update these more.
I will bypass the usual comments section in order to get this up more quickly and i will make sure to include the responses to you all in the next chapter.
Thank you everyone for your support and understanding. Cheers 3
