DISCLAIMER: This is the general Disclaimer, I don't own Gundam Wing, no matter how much I wish I did. This is all for fun and only get paid in reviews.
Authors Note: Ok, I'll admit that I know where the story is going, I just don't know exactly how I'm going to get there. I had the idea so I decided to start writing since I've had trouble with it for a while (seriously, writers block for YEARS here). I'm hoping that this will help me push past it. That doesn't mean I'm going to skimp though, I plan on making it a good story.
Some background, the idea came from a book a read a few years ago called Stars (I'm trying to find a copy so I can figure out the authors name.) Wilderness therapy is a type of program that takes teens (usually) out to the wilderness in an attempt to get them to take a personal responsibility for their life in someway. Most of the programs don't take on those who commit serious crimes, but I'm the author and I have the artistic license.
Warnings: There is swearing, drugs, sexual situations, violence and male-male relationships. Reader beware. Not for young readers.
The story is AU and OOC. The only pairing I have figured out so far is 3X4.
Enjoy, R&R and try bearing with me if I take some time getting new chapters up though I hope to go for about one a week.
Chapter 6
*One Year Earlier*
Listening intently, Heero walked slowly and softly down the hall. Right now he was the only one in the house and he knew it. But he wasn't about to get himself caught because he failed to hear a car in the driveway or keys in the door. Pushing the door to the master bedroom open, Heero entered and left the door ajar.
First he walked over to the night table on the right side of the bed. Opening the drawer he slid his hand over the underside until his fingers brushed the key taped to the bottom. He carefully pulled it off and turned it in his fingers, examining every groove and bump. He had taken to doing this every time he was alone, but for some reason he never got further then this. He looked towards the closet.
Standing straight, he walked to the closet door and opened it. Crouching down he moved the boxes aside revealing a metal lock-box. Heero reached out and ran his hand over the cold metal of the box. Licking his lips he moved to put the key in the lock and paused. Inside, he knew the box held something that could fix everything wrong with his life. But he wasn't ready. He wanted to be ready, but he knew he wasn't. Swallowing hard and trying to ignore the voice in his head that called him a coward, he put everything back where it was supposed to be and stood. Closing the closet door he turned and walked back to the bed side table and taped the key back in it's place. Sliding the drawer back in he left the room, closing the door behind him.
When his parents came home an hour later, Heero had locked himself in his bedroom and refused to come out until dinner.
Duo kicked the door in front of him. There was no answer, so he kicked harder. Cursing both himself (his toe now hurt) and his roommate, he struggled with the bags to try and fit the key into the lock. Just as he was about to turn it the door opened. Before him stood a bedraggled young man with dirty blonde hair that reached his chin and grey-blue eyes. Duo glared daggers at the man.
"If you were fucking someone just to make me struggle you're dead, Solo," he said a little grumpily. The blonde, Solo, just grinned and grabbed a couple of bag from Duo.
"Go a little overboard in the shopping?" He asked the teen. Duo glared again.
"No,"
"Have a nasty run in with a little old lady and get hit with a cane?" Solo asked, still grinning. Duo rolled his eyes.
"No, they were having a sale on some non-perishables so I thought I'd stock up. The lady at the counter treated me like trash though and I couldn't give her a what for cause she's probably been bitched at by every Tom, Dick and Harry in the city and can't be blamed for her actions." Duo dumped his bags on the table. "You weren't entertaining again, were you?" he eyed his roommate suspiciously.
"No, I was not 'entertaining', I was taking a nap. I've been feeling a little run down since they extended my work hours at the club." Solo frowned again, as he watched the food disappear into cupboards and the fridge. "If everything in the bloody store was ninety-nine cents, you still didn't have enough to buy this much, Duo. Where the hell did you get the money?"
Duo pushed his bangs back and looked away. Solo let out a breath.
"Again? You know one of these days your gonna get sent away to a real prison for a good while. Last thing you need is to be some serial killers fuck-toy."
"Maybe not, but since I'm not old enough to work and you don't get paid enough to cover rent and groceries, someone has to do something to keep us off the god damned street." Duo turned on his heels and headed to his bedroom. Slamming the door behind him. The last thing he needed was for Solo to start lecturing him about the one thing he was good at that could bring in cash, even if it wasn't entirely legal.
Trowa shut the door behind him and moved into the living room. His sister, Catherine, was sitting at the coffee table with papers, a couple of pencils and a calculator in front of her. Trowa frowned. She would never admit to him that her job wasn't paying enough, but he knew anyway. Last time he had brought it up she had gotten angry with his suggestion that he find a way to help out. He needed to finish school first, he needed to make sure he could live a better life then she had been given. After their parents had died in a car accident, Catherine had dropped out of High school to get a full time job, and then a second one. They had managed fine so far but lately things had gotten difficult. The rent had gone up and Catherine had lost one of her jobs. She was having trouble making ends meet, Trowa had seen the letter threatening eviction if she didn't pay soon.
Trowa had decided to skip talking to his sister about it. It was a matter of pride for her. Instead he had started looking for ways to make money. Unfortunately no one in the area was willing to hire someone too young to legally work. So he had started looking outside legal.
Walking over Trowa placed a small roll of bills on the table and turned. His sister grabbed his arm.
"Where the hell did you get that money?" she asked sharply. Trowa just shrugged and walked down the hall to his room.
In the living room Catherine chewed on her nail, thinking. His non-answer told her she wouldn't like the means he had used to acquire the money and she didn't want to encourage him… But at the same time they faced living on the street and that thought was even more frightening. Letting a breath, she stood and headed after her brother.
"You don't have to tell me how exactly, but I don't want you doing it again." she told him, from the doorway, her arms folded. Trowa looked up from his book.
"Fine." he said. It was fine, at least fine that she didn't want him doing it again. That didn't mean he wouldn't do it again if he had to.
Quatre kicked the pebble with his expensive black shoes. Looking around briefly and seeing no sign of his father amid the sea of navy blue blazers and grey slacks and skirts he turned and started towards the street. He never expected his father to pick him up, but always checked just in case. It was still hurt too much to hope that his father would decided to take time off work to do something with his son, even something as simple as a drive from the elite private school to home.
He was just outside the school yard when someone calling his name made him stop. He waited for the other boy, Derek, to catch up and the two of them started off towards home.
"You wanna come over, Quatre?" Derek asked. "My parents aren't there but I bet we could find something to do."
"Sure," Quatre didn't even have to think about it. His father would be at work until at least eight that evening and he didn't feel much like sitting home with only the help to keep him company. Sometimes he wished one or two of his sisters where still living at home, but that always led him to remembering the dress incident and dismissed the wish.
"Do you have anything for us to do?" Quatre asked suddenly. He knew Derek's parents were very strict about what was appropriate entertainment and what wasn't. Games, music and computers were a big no, reading boring old stories from centuries ago, studying and the newspaper were far more to their tastes. Derek grinned and nodded.
"I do, less of course you don't want to." Quatre eyed his friend. That tone of voice usually meant trouble. But then again, what were two bored rich kids supposed to do if not get in trouble.
Once they reached the house and let themselves in Quatre turned to Derek. "What about the rest of the household?" he asked. The last thing he needed was some nosey maid telling his father he had been hanging out with a friend he wasn't technically supposed to be friends with and doing things he wasn't technically supposed to be doing.
"Don't worry, my dad gave them all time off. He said that they were starting to annoy him." Derek shrugged. "I don't know how they annoy him since most of them are gone when he gets home and the ones who aren't are in bed."
"Even Meg?" Meg was Derek's nanny, though he refused to admit it claming she was his maternal surrogate. She was also really nice and adored both Derek and Quatre.
"Even Meg, though you know she wouldn't say anything to your dad. She loves having you around too much. Last week she even went so far as to say you were like my conscience or something." the two boys laughed at that, knowing full well that Quatre had instigated just as much of the trouble as Derek.
In the large upstairs bedroom the two boys dumped their bags on the floor and Quatre took a seat on the bed. Muttering to himself, Derek searched through his closet until he found what he was looking for. A small box about the size of a deck of cards. He tossed it to his friend who opened it. Taking one look at what was inside, Quatre snapped the lid shut and looked at Derek.
"I dunno about this…" he trailed off, chewing his lip. Derek just shrugged.
"Don't want to fine, But I want to."
Quatre ran his fingers over the box for a moment before finally nodding.
Wufei rushed up the driveway to his house, slowing just as he reached the front steps. He was late. In fact he was very late. His parents had told him to be home by ten, it was currently 3:23 a.m. Taking the steps slowly, he tried not to make any sound. So far his parents trusted him. They both went to bed at exactly half past nine and since he had given them very few reasons to not trust him in the past, he had thus far gotten away with not being caught coming home late. Not that he did it often. This was only his third time. This time he was certain that he didn't want to get caught, and certain that if he wasn't careful the reason he didn't want to get caught would get him caught.
Wait did that make any sense.
Wufei shook his head, trying to clear it and opened the door as quietly as possible. Shutting it just as quietly behind him, he removed his shoes and started up the stairs to his bedroom.
"Wufei,"
Wufei stopped mid step and slowly turned. His father was standing at the foot of the stairs, arms crossed and eyeing his son with something between anger and disappointment. Wufei silently, but thoroughly cursed his luck and stared at the ground trying to look meek, or apologetic or something along those lines.
"You're late," he father stated. Well that was an understatement. He didn't say anything though. He heard more the saw the frown in his father's voice when the man spoke again, "tell me why." Wufei swallowed.
"I… lost track of time, I guess," even to his ears it was the lamest excuse he could have come up with. Hell, falling asleep at a friends house would have been better. Not much but at least a little more plausible.
"Come down here, Wufei." now there was something in that voice he didn't recognize. It sounded like suspicion. Slowly, Wufei descended the stares to stand in front of his father. A hand reached out and guided Wufei's chin up so he was looking his father in the eye. Slowly the man leaned forward and sniffed the air around his only son.
"You've been drinking?" it was really more of a statement then a question.
"Yes," Wufei said, spurred by a sudden urge to be defiant. No doubt his father expected a lie. Mr. Chang frowned. Wufei suddenly pulled back.
"I'm going to bed," Wufei said suddenly, turning and heading back up the stairs. He reached the second floor and stopped. His mother was standing there with a robe pulled around her. She didn't say anything but Wufei could see it. Her eyes told him she knew, and she was horribly disappointed. It was bad enough upsetting his father. But his mother? she was probably the nicest human being alive. She had given her whole life to raising her only child and he had hurt her.
Feeling his stomach knot and a lump form in his throat, Wufei turned his back on her and raced into his room, slamming the door behind him. As much as he hated seeing his mother hurting because of him, Wufei was sick and tired of being a perfect son. He had made life easy for his parents. Doing everything they asked when they asked it. He excelled in school because they wanted him to, he excelled in martial arts because it was important to his father. He stayed out of trouble, and subsequently friendless because he wasn't willing to break rules, because his parents refused to accept anything less then a perfect son.
He was ready to make them accept it.
TBC
Post Chapter Author's Note: Ok, the update was loooooong in coming. The reason being I wasn't sure I wanted to go the flashback route. We'll see how it works. I had this written a while ago and hesitated putting it up. I hope you like it. Anyway, thank you for your patience. As I was writing the ending here, I've decided a path for which this story will trek. Anyway, there will be important information revealed in later flashbacks.
