Solemn Flight-Tormented Fae: Thank you! I enjoyed writing it, so I hope you will enjoy reading it :)
Snowdragonct: I know, it was kind of evil of me to create two consecutive cliffhangers. But I'm working hard to make sure you don't hang there for too long :P I'm glad you liked the little moment between Duo and Une and that it made you laugh. it's good to have pets, I feel they fill a lot of the void that people can leave. I only have two rabbits, but that's because apartment living won't be very forgiving on - for example - a llama :) Thank you for reviewing again and I hope this is soon enough!
anf600 Toni: So many questions ;) Obviously I can't answer them, you will have to keep on reading to find out. I'll promise to go easy on the cliffhangers from now on :P Thank you for reviewing!
TKM: You are definitely right, they both have a lot to figure out. Thank you for reviewing and I hope you will enjoy this new update :)
BrygidSoul: Wow, thank you so much for your wonderful compliments :) I'm glad me taking a little liberty with Une's character hasn't put anyone off and that you even liked it so much you felt compelled to review. It's true that Une and Duo don't have a strong relationship during the series, but what I would encourage everyone to remember is that just because they weren't friends then, doesn't mean it can't ever evolve to that point. I'm glad you agree :) Thank you so much for reviewing and I hope you will enjoy this chapter.
Jay: Thank you for reviewing and reminding me of my responsibility! :) I hope I managed to live up to it!
DevianYUE: Thank you for reviewing. It's nice to hear that you enjoyed the flashback, I really enjoyed writing it, because, as Duo often says in this fic, it seems like a different lifetime and it really does. Thank you for sending inspiration my way, it seemed to have worked and I hope you will approve of the results :)
Sheenamarieanne: Thank you so much for reviewing again :) I totally understand that you prefer Duo to be the way he is in the series :) And he still is that way but a lot of layers have been added on top. I suppose it's easy, for me as a writer, to lose the basis with all the layers I've added. I'm happy you liked the flashback, it did indeed slow the story down quite a bit, but it felt so unrealistic to have everything turn out okay in the flip of a chapter, I felt I needed to stretch the situation, to make the reader as anxious and impatient for news of Heero as Duo is and then I just ran with the flashback :) I hope you will enjoy this chapter and will continue t =o share your thoughts with me, it would be much appreciated :)
Sue: Wow, much to think about indeed :P I hope this update came fast enough for you! Thank you for reviewing!
Chibichocopaws: Okay, thanks for clarifying. Regarding that you are also right, I didn't know how to stretch that weekend, I really didn't have much to say about it. I'm glad it didn't ruin the chapter for you :) Good thing Une didn't turn out too OOC. Thanks for reviewing again and I hope you will enjoy this chapter as well :)
Through The Trapped Door: Only time will tell ;) Thank you for leaving a comment :)
CircleKV12: Sorry pushing your patience and stretching the chapter with the flashback ;) But it's nice to hear that you are really eager to read what is going to happen. No flashbacks this chapter, don't worry :P I hope I won't disappoint you! Thank you for reviewing :)
Nikki: Thank you for the super mega hugs! :) You are totally right about the exams and I think it's such a paradox that a psychology faculty still maintains that method of testing, like they don't know better ;) I guess the main purpose is just to get us to read all the literature and really do our best, in that sense I think exams are useful, but in my opinion they should abolish grades, passed is passed, failed is failed, it doesn't matter how spectacularly you passed or how horribly you failed. But that's just me being pissed at the system ;) I guess you are right about Une too, as long as she wasn't all psycho-with-the-buns, she was a kind woman, I just wanted to be careful, you never know what wrath I might call upon myself if I don't :P Thank you so much for reviewing again, loyally and being so kind and hearing your thoughts about the story with me :) I hope you will enjoy this chapter!
Demise Angel: Thank you so much for reviewing :) I am so happy to read you are still enjoying the story and your compliments are really humbling, it's very sweet of you say that, a healthy below average ego keeps me from agreeing with you, but I definitely try my hardest :P I hope you will not be disappointed.
Starless-ocean: Thank you for the New Year wishes :) The best wishes in return. Also thanks for reviewing, that is always appreciated :) I hope you will continue to enjoy this story and share your thoughts with me, I really hope i won't let you down!
Author's note:
I just wanted to relieve you all of the previous cliffhanger, I'm afraid in the near future you shouldn't hold your breath for quick updates, I'm doing my best, but I'm going to be very busy with school once more :( I hope I will manage to surprise you all and myself with a sooner than anticipated update. For now, you'll have to do with this chapter. If it's any consolidation, it's the longest to date :P
I can only hope that this chapter will live up to expectations and I'm looking forward to hearing from anyone who is willing to share their thoughts with me about it :)
PS: Though I said so at the end of the previous chapter, as you may notice, this chapter is not title "Two steps back 3", I just didn't know what I was going to call it yet :)
Warheads
Part XXI Life Changing Moment
We, us humans, earthians and colonists alike, all like to think we are so smart, so wise. We like to walk like there is nothing to figure out, with our hands stuffed deep into our pockets where we play with a wayward nickel, some lint and all the answers man could ever hope to have. I had that same arrogant gait. It grew more confident as time passed, sometimes slow, sometimes too quick for me to catch up. I knew life, or so I thought. I knew of every footprint I had left and I knew of every next step; knew exactly how to place my feet to maintain my balance.
But we should know - especially I should have known! - that the ground is easily shifted. And all the rules and codes that we spent a lifetime gathering, learning and accepting, become meaningless and worthless and the answers are no longer answers, just precursors to new questions. And then we stand there, in unknown territory, in the dark. We don't see the footprints that we have left and we don't see the path we are ought to take. There is just the ground under our feet and even that can't be trusted.
We have this happen to us in every lifetime, some often, some few; life-changing moments. And you have to learn to walk all over again, because left and right, up and down and right and wrong are all interchangeable.
I felt like I was standing on the precipice of a life-changing moment. One of those moments that people have experienced and that they look back on, in their elderly years, either filled with pride, or emptied with regret. I've suffered many of these moments. When I was out on the street, wailing like the child I was and a honey blonde boy not much older than myself offered me a hand to help me to my feet. When the church burned before my eyes, stone overcome by flames, and I heard the sirens of police vehicles and ambulances nearing. When I walked down a rainy street, with my hands in my pockets and my eyes to the ground and a long black limousine pulled up next to me and a man with an offer rolled down the tinted window. But of them, not a single one felt as frightening and sickening as the moment I was standing in right now. Because I was powerless. Rather than having my hands tucked comfortably in my pockets, they were pinned painfully behind my back. I could not intervene, I could only watch things happen. I wasn't used to that and - I realized without much effort - I hated it. There was no choice to make. Not the decision to accept the helping hand. Not the decision to flee the scene. Not the decision to get into the car. Only nervous glances at the hateful hands of a wall clock.
I've seen many movies where the image slows and the people become blurred and the dramatic music that had been playing is muted as the main protagonists stands in a hospital corridor, or by the scene of a horrible car accident. In contrary to what those movies made me believe, my senses seemed heightened, I was acutely aware of everything, every softly whispered words by the techs, the continuous static bursts, the ticking of keyboards, the ringing of phones and even Une's voice - from as far as her office - as she talked into her phone.
"Sir-... Sir, what you are asking of me is unreasonable! ... Those are my men in there! I sent them in there, I will get them back! ..."
I looked at her, at her upset face, at her defensive body language. The moment was being decided and I was on the outside looking in. The path was being treaded without my say.
"Sir, with all due respect- ... No. No, you know what? There is no respect due! I know what I'm doing and you don't. ... I understand that. Of course I understand that, we are not authorized to pass Ethiopian borders but sir, we have and now our men are out there. Because we told them to go there. ... I can't just pull back the team, they haven't found the initial team yet." After that she was silent for a long time and distanced the phone from her ears a little as she was likely being yelled at, judging by the expression on her face, the man on the other side of the line was being condescending and not taking her argument under advisement. Finally, her complexion turned defeated and she hung up the phone. Her eyes found me through the clear glass facade of the office. She took in a deep breath and then waved me over.
I left behind the hard working tech as he tried to trace the signal, but looking increasingly hopeless, and stepped into her office, hovering near the door. I felt I was about to throw up and needed a clear bolt for the nearest bathroom. "Who was that?"
"My boss."
"I thought you were the boss."
She chuckled grimly. "My boss as in the president of the Reformed United States of America."
"Oh... So what did his speech writer tell him to say?" The joking was misplaced but it was a trait that came to me naturally, even in the most inappropriate situations.
"Actually, this time, he was pretty unscripted."
I nodded, understanding. "Unscripted" meant he was being a foulmouthed asshole. I rephrased my previous question to: "What did he say?"
"Nothing good." She sat herself down in her chair and rubbed her temples. "If our involvement is exposed but we remain to be unsuccessful and NgGasi manages to make himself president, we basically started a war and I would get fired."
"What does that mean for now? For us? For Heero?"
"It means that without proof of life, I am ordered to have the rescue team retreat. The vice-president is flying in to ensure I abide by this order."
I shook my head. "They can't do this." A choking feeling crept up on me, like someone was hidden in my own shadow and had big, strong hands wrapped tight around my throat.
"They can and they are. I'm supposed to make the call right now." With her elegant finger she touched the phone on her desk, but then she suddenly looked at me with passion and determination shining through her eyes. "But the vice-president won't be here for another fifteen minutes to verify the call. That leaves us some time." She jumped up to her feet, still not wearing her shoes and made her way back towards the command center. I let her pass by me, letting her words process in my mind and then jogged after her. The grip on my neck loosened, hope was a power adversary to shadow dwelling creatures.
"Won't you get fired for the delaying the call?"
"Most certainly. But not if we agree with their condition and find them proof of life."
I smiled. "You think they're still alive?" My heart had an elevated feel to it. I don't why, just because she would think so, doesn't make it so, but I guess it gave me the hope I couldn't muster on my own.
"There's no way to know right know. But what I do know is that I sent two capable agents in there, with every expectation of getting them back. I'm holding on to that feeling, because nothing has changed. The mission may have failed but they are still the two agents I put faith in." She walked over to the technical annalist responsible for tracking the signal. "Anything?" She asked him expectantly.
"The constantly turning on and off of the signal makes it impossible to trace, ma'am."
"He might be doing that on purpose." I offered, desperate to find something that would count as proof of life.
"Possibly..." Une sounded unconvinced. "You've been getting nothing but static?" She asked the tech, leaning over his shoulder to look at the blinking line on the screen: COM 3045. COM 3045. COM 3045.
"Well, I have been focusing on the trap-and-trace but I would have noticed if there had been an SOS or something in there, ma'am." He responded with poorly disguised frustration. Irritated by her relentless scrutiny he turned back to the screen and plugged his headphones in redirecting the static from the speakers to his ears privately.
In the abrupt silence that was created, something clicked in my head. "SOS?" I questioned.
"Yeah, Save Our Souls?" The tech replied condescendingly.
"I know what it-" I let my words die out and reached over his shoulder to take hold of the plug of his headphones and gave them a rough tug, ripping the plug out of the computer.
"You can't do that!" He yelled at me and defiantly tried to plug his headphones back in.
I swatted away his pale, bony hands with my right hand and covered the entry in the computer with my left to prevent any following attempts. "Shut up, will you?" I hissed at him, a voice in the back of my head - mischief evident in the tone - told me to punch him in the face, but for once that little, deviant voice was drowned out by the voice of reason, I knew that would only prolong the process and not encourage cooperation of any form. I tuned the tech out as he denied my request and started ranting to Une about this "crude" invasion of his workspace and that I wasn't allowed to be in the control room to begin with.
I listened to the rhythm of bursts till my heart skipped with it in step. It seemed like random short and longer bursts of static, intermitted by short and longer pauses. A smile broke the gloom that had taken to my face, the feeling in my heart was indescribable.
Une silenced the tech with a definitive order and asked me gently what it was.
"It's an SOS."
"It's static." The tech argued childishly.
"No, it's an SOS. It's Morse code." I said to him with a raised, dangerous voice. I looked back up at Une and repeated wistfully: "It's Morse code. He has been sending us SOS messages all this time! I can't believe I missed it!"
"It's an antiquated technique," the tech set, bent on ruining the moment and my hope, "no one uses it anymore since the introduction of the more efficient coded alphabet by Jaeger!"
"That is exactly why we used it!" I bit back. "Trust me Une, it's Morse code, he's alive. Short. Short. Short. Long. Long. Long. Short. Short. Short." I said in time with the bursts.
"Why would a trained Preventer agent use such an outdated code when we teach them the Jaeger code for emergencies?" The snotty tech protested.
Realization visibly dawned on Lady Une's face. "We never trained him. He didn't go through Preventer training, so he wasn't taught the new code."
"Will this do?" I asked hurriedly, as time ticked by and the vice-president was on his way to call off the rescue. "Will this be good as proof of life?"
Une ran towards a different desk in the darkened room and urged another worker to access the virtual database and print her a copy of the Morse code Alphabetic table. He briefly dared to give her a strange, questioning glance but she affirmed her order and he quickly set to work. She tapped the one next to him on the shoulder and told him to call down to reception and tell Ona to stall the vice-president upon arrival as long as possible. "Hurry up on that table." She called, before walking back over to me. "Good work, Duo." She smiled at me and patted me on the shoulder, she was panting with excitement and relief.
"I could just kick myself for not recognizing it sooner!" I let out a laughter that suddenly overwhelmed me, erupting out of me as the relief washed away most of my nerves.
He was alive.
"Lady Une," the employee walked towards us and handed Une a sheet of printed paper, "the table you asked for, ma'am."
She practically ripped it out of his hands and traced the table for the O and the S. With her eyes fixed on the paper she fell silent and listened to the static bursts intently. "Short. Short. Short. Long. Long. Long. Short. Short. Short." I heard her mutter under her breath. She looked up at me and her smile just widened. "You're right. Again, Duo, good work."
The tech had lingered at her side and coughed to regain her attention. "I should also inform you that Ona called and the vice president is being escorted up as we speak."
"That's fine. We're ready for him."
Just as the words left her finely red painted lips, the door at the far side of the control room opened and light poured in from the hallway. The silhouette of a short, plump man appeared. He stomped over towards Une with quick, angry steps, flanked by towering bodyguards. His bald head shone in the blue light of the computer screens. His glasses had slid halfway down his nose and he was gazing over the top of them with imminent murder in his eyes. As he came to stand in front of Lady Une's regal, proud figure, all he could look at, for several moments, lasting inappropriately long, were her bare feet. Even without her high heels she was still taller than the hissing and puffing man. He probably took it as a deliberate mockery of his vertically challenged form.
"Have you made the call?" He barked with a low, obnoxious voice.
Une smiled down at him sweetly. "No, mister vice-president, I've been keeping the line free for you."
Instead of responding to her provocative statement he suddenly snapped his head to the right to look up at me with his beady little eyes, as I was just standing there, watching and listening to their conversation. "Who the hell are you?"
Before I could answer Une interjected with: "He is the concerned partner of one of the agents gone missing in the field."
The man mumbled something incoherent. "Why haven't you made the call?"
"You might want to call the president first."
"He made his decision and as I understand he was very clear to you about it."
"We have knew information that may cause him to reconsider. With the help of mister Maxwell we have just decoded an SOS call from one of the agents." She gestured towards the speaker from which the static still came forth. "Morse Code. An SOS. Policy is to respond to an SOS no matter what. The president wrote this policy himself, I'm sure he will feel very motivated to honor it."
He stared at her, clearly displeased, for many passing seconds till he finally grumbled: "Give me a phone."
"You can use the one in my office."
The man walked over to her office and behind his back Une shared a triumphant smile with me. The man returned quickly, the conversation had been short. He obviously didn't agree with the decision that had been made but he declared that the president had authorized the rescue to the continue. "But," he added with a threatening tone, raising a stubby finger into the air, "you do it quick and you do it quiet." He left without saying anything further.
Une immediately moved to sit down in an empty chair by a large video phone and turned to the man beside her. "Patch me through to contact 08." She looked back at me over her shoulder and explained: "I'm calling in a favor."
The screen blinked to life showing a tanned young man in a business suit. He smiled when he recognized Une's gentle face. "My dear Lady Une."
"Jonathan, it's good to see you."
"I presume this is a business call?"
"You presume correct. I'm calling in that favor."
"Damn." He chuckled. "When I asked you to ground all media choppers for my wedding I knew I would have to get myself in trouble one day. What can I do for you?"
"I want you to ring the alarm in Bahir Dar. We need the streets to be quiet for about an hour or so."
"Anything for the Lady." Jonathan responded glibly. "I will make some calls, you should have the streets to yourself in about five minutes."
"Thank you, Jonathan. Your debt is paid. Goodbye."
He said his goodbye and then the feed was disconnected and the screen went black except for white letters across the center reading: CONNECTION LOST.
"Who is he?" I inquired curiously.
"He's one of the American ambassadors in Kenya. Fully integrated, if you know what that means. He has many contacts, beyond the Ethiopian border as well." She rose back to her feet.
"What does the alarm do?" I asked as I followed her around.
"A sandstorm alarm, much like an air-raid alarm. Every African city located within the perimeter of the desert has one. When it goes off, people know better than to stay outside, they go indoors and lock and blind every door and window." She gestured for me to wait as she addressed an employee and ordered him to contact the back-up team and inform them that the about to resound alarm is false and serves only as distraction to buy them free roam of the vicinity. "There will be no civilians to get in the way," She continued to me, "but also the police and the media the attempt on NgGasi's life will have surely generated by now, will be forced to bunker down inside and wait till the alarm is stopped. Without their prying eyes on the street, we have a safe window of opportunity to look for Heero and Levelt. Obviously, there won't be a storm, but false alarms are common."
I watched as the entire room came to life with renewed energy, the sounds of typing and ringing phones seemed to speed up and workers were walking around comically fast.
I lingered in the control room by Une's side for a while, but eventually returned to my private conference room to gather my thoughts and feelings, sort them in a way that would make sense to me. There wasn't any reason to stay in the control room, I would only be a bother, getting in people's way. During the search for Heero and Levelt by the team on site, radio-silence was enforced. There wasn't anything to listen to but the continuous distress signal sent by Heero, which I could still hear from within the confines of the separate room. Even though every burst did something painful to my heart, like taking a bite out of it, it was even more disheartening to listen to it decrease in frequency as time passed on and he must be getting tired. I wondered if he started to lose hope of being rescued. I wondered if he was scared. I wondered if he was worried. I wondered if he thought of me, of what might be going on here, back home. I reminded myself that he was the perfect soldier and probably the only thing on his mind was the failure of the mission. Through the resentment at being lied to, I could still feel the empathy for him and even though I knew painful times would be ahead of us following his return, my heart was so desperate for his closeness that it even yearned to share this pain with him.
My heart, I knew, was quite the sado-masochist, but I never made any apologies for that. When you've been dulled and calloused by images of war, any feeling is reason to rejoice, it means the sights haven't defeated you.
I wondered if Heero could confidently state that he was unbeaten by the sights...
The static stopped.
I sat up straight in my seat, my heart beating furiously. I was convinced that the mere seconds that went by were eternities.
"Duo!" Lady Une called from a distance.
Though I was sitting with my back towards the door, I didn't turn around to look at her, knowing that whatever expression she currently bore, would seal my faith and I didn't know if I was ready for that yet. I only slightly moved my head, to let her know she had my attention. I wished she would say nothing, for only the littlest while, prolong my happiness and my hope, before she might crush it.
"They found him!" She called from across the room.
My whole body froze.
"They found him and he's alright! They're bringing him home!" She didn't approach me, she continued working and left me to myself.
The ground stopped shaking, the lights returned and illuminated the path that I knew and looked forward to walking. Left was still left, right was still right. Like a hurricane that suddenly changes course, I was spared a painful life-changing moment.
Upon hearing the news, I started to cry. The feelings that filled me were like nothing I had ever experienced before. My heart felt full with positive feelings, but felt light at the same time and my whole body trembled as it was finally able to release all that pent up anxiety and dread. I cried all the sad feelings out of me, rejecting them from my soul. After crying for about five minutes - a salty pool of tears forming on the table - I was able to smile and every tear that fell from that point on were spilt out of sensational happiness, that I almost felt I had no right to.
Undeserving as I may have been, I reveled the feeling and pushed all "what if's" from my conscious thought, they were unimportant now, only reality mattered. And luckily, for once, reality was as amazing as the dream.
I had lost my anger and the hurtful betrayal somewhere in the depths of me. I knew they would resurface, with foul, displeased faces, but for now I was content in their absence as the waiting game continued. At best it would take the team three hours to get back to the Head Quarters. I spent that time re-braiding my disheveled hair, lacing my hands together and repetitively placing the left ankle over the right and then shifting in my seat and placing the right ankle over the left. Honestly, that was all I did.
My mind focused all it's energy on getting Heero home; call it a monotonous mantra, call it a symptom sleep deprivation, it wouldn't matter. I kept imagining that moment that I would see him again, trying to estimate the intensity of the emotions I would be submitted to, so that I could prepare myself, steady myself and not let myself be reduced to a crying mess of a person in front of tall, masculine agents. For some reason, even at times like this, that was of some importance. We all have big ego's, us Gundam Pilots.
I realized Heero might not be in any state to hug and kiss, regardless, that's what I wanted to do. Berating him and yelling at him for lying to me, spitting in the face of the trust that I had been nurturing between us, would have to come later. At the end of the day, when all was said and done - all lies had been given and accepted - I still loved him. That feeling dominated everything else, empowered by the relief of Une's words that still echoed in my ears.
"They found him and he's alright!"
Of course he is. He is Heero - fucking - Yuy, I joked to myself inwardly, even though I knew there was an untold truth behind that statement. Still the Perfect Soldier, he took bigger risks that anyone would take, pushed his body farther than other people would and by doing that he makes himself all the more vulnerable. Just because your bones are like gundanium and your skin is hard as steel, doesn't make crossing the road without looking any less dangerous. And as well-protected as he may be, comparing easily to strong alloys like I had, my heart was of mere glass and shattered at every drop I experienced each time he would veritably cover his eyes with his hands and step into traffic, or lied to me, or didn't speak to me, or shied away from me. Picking up all the pieces and mending it back together each time, was starting to take it's toll, more than superficial cuts to the fingers and palms.
My ears perked when I heard an approaching rumble.
I pushed out of my seat, knocking the chair backwards and stepped towards the large window of the conference room overlooking the dimly lit airstrip. I waited as the noise got louder. The sound seemed to reach it's peak and I laid my hands flat against the window pane and felt it vibrate. I peered outside with narrowed eyes. I couldn't see much, but focused on the lights lining the runway. The intensity of the sound decreased a little and then I saw a long awaited black shadow appear on the tarmac. With an unrestrained smile I raced out of my private little room and found Une in her office with her feet propped up on her desk and her eyes closed. Though she appeared to be sleeping, I called out her name and her brown eyes shot open. "They're here. I saw the SuSo land."
She quickly got to her feet herself and demanded information from the nearest present tech. He informed her that they were flying him to the helipad on the roof.
I wondered why. When I closed my eyes I saw blood, so I forced them back open, even though they burned with tiredness.
She didn't tell me to follow her, but I assumed that was implied and I did, as she ran to the door and opened it with her card. I trailed behind and she guided me back towards the elevator, she swiped her card and said with exaggerated articulation: "Roof access". The elevator took us further up in the building, to the top floor. The doors opened to a long stretched, narrow corridor leading to only one door with a red sticker warning us, the print was illegible from the distance. We started towards it but halfway down the hallway the door already opened and several men in black uniforms hurried through. Amidst them I spotted a familiar mop of chocolate brown hair and upon seeing it I realized fully how much I had missed even just his hair. The sensitive pads of my fingers were instantly reminded at the silky softness of his dark strands from when I ran them through his hair, or wrapped my hands around his neck, with my thumbs buried into his hair.
"Heero!" I called out.
The men looked up with serious faces and one of them yelled at me: "Get out of the way!"
Both Une and I stepped to the side so they could pass by us. When the group of men parted and I saw Heero, being supported by the shoulder of one of them, my heart first soared to impossible heights, but then plummeted down back into reality and the seriousness of the situation.
He wore a pair of black cargo pants, with handguns and ammo strapped around his waist and thighs, his upper body was covered only by a black sweater with a Preventer logo attached with velcro over the right side of his chest. Worryingly his clothes were torn in several places and the rips exposed bloodied skin and open wounds. He walked with a heavy limp and the cut fabric over his right knee revealed dark blood. He had bloodied scrapes on his neck and face as well, dried trails of blood coming down his nose. His left ear was damaged, the shell was cut in several places and the skin looked burnt. He had his right arm held tight to his torso, the hand looked limp.
Most discouraging of all was the dead expression in his eyes. They looked grey even though I knew them to be an intense, vibrant blue. It sank my heart to new depths.
I noticed he was wearing two sets of dog tags and my gaze briefly searched for the giant agent amongst the others, but he wasn't there. Agent Levelt was dead, I knew instantly and it added to the grief I felt for Heero.
I reached out for him, hoping my touch would revive him from the dark place he allowed himself to sink into, but the men surrounding him pushed past Une and me without apologies and my outstretched hand was deflected by a hard, broad chest. The skin on my arm scraped across the rough, protective Kevlar but my own pain was insignificant. "Is he okay?" I asked the team, but none of them offered any answers nor assurance as they rushed him to the elevator, crowding it. Une and I were forced to wait as they brought him down. I asked Une, dazed and confused and once again reminded of how tired I was, where they were taking him.
"To the hospital floor. Once the elevator is free we will join them." She pressed the button by the steel doors several times, appearing impatient and anxious herself.
"I thought you said he was all right." I wondered out loud as I waited by her side.
"That's what they told me. His injuries probably aren't very serious. I'm sure he'll be fine." In spite of her calm and supportive voice, she practically jumped into the elevator as soon as the doors opened. "Hospital floor." She ordered and the elevator hummed back to life and brought us down.
The lobby that was then revealed before us was white and sterile, with several long corridors branching off it with overhead signs that were indeed very reminiscent of an actual hospital.
I hated hospitals, I noted with a heavy feeling. I let Une lead the way, I didn't know where I was going or what I was doing anyway, I was only directed by the pull of the magnet of my heart that was being attracted to the steel encasing of his.
She walked to the central reception in the lobby where two nurses in crisp white uniforms were chatting with each other. When they caught the presence of their boss they both straightened up and smoothed their shirts nervously.
"Lady Une." One said and bowed her head in a polite greeting.
"Where did they take the agent that was just brought here?"
"They took him to see doctor Borland." When she finished speaking the escort of agents that had rudely bypassed us earlier emerged from one of the narrow corridors, their black uniforms stood out in the all-white surroundings, they seemed like black voids within the light. Eclipses. They approached Une dutifully and I figured I could slip past them and find Heero while the Lady debriefed them, but as I tip-toed around them purposefully a strong, masculine voice barked at me:
"Where are you going?"
I turned around to look at a tanned man with chapped lips and small eyes and freckles all over his face that did nothing to diffuse the intimidation of his expression, nor the strict military cut of his dark hair. Another agent walked over and blocked the way to the corridor they had come from. Instead of feeling threatened, instead of being submissive to their authoritarian stance, with their legs at shoulders' width and hands on their hips, I felt angry. I felt deviant. I felt like someone was about to get hurt and even though they were the ones dressed in full armor, I didn't think that would be me.
"Step back, sir." The one who had blocked the way wrapped his big, long fingers around my upper arm.
He asked for it.
In a single, swift motion I shook my arm free and pivoted on the ball of my foot to swing my white-knuckled fist at him. My fist connect with his face with a crack, he had been too cocky to even try and avoid my assault. He paid no heed to his bloodied nose and tried to regain control over me but just as he was about to showcase what Preventer agents were made of, Une called us all to order.
A nurse rushed to the man's side and mothered over his asymmetrical nose. Even though he seemed to manage the pain just fine, he made no objections as one of the attractive young nurses led him to a private suture room to tend to his injury.
Drained of any empathy, all I could think was: "One down..." With my eyes I challenged the others, but got nothing more than angry stares as they stood at ease with their hands behind their backs.
"Duo, I know you are worried about Heero. I promise him you can see him as soon as the doctor is done with him." Une negotiated.
I looked at her in disbelief. I thought she was on my side! "Une." I objected, but what I started I could not finish, with her looking at me like that, I knew there was nothing I could say to convince her otherwise. Her will would be done.
"An agent is debriefing him while doctor Borland examines and treats him. That can only be done in privacy." She tried to take hold of my shoulder but I shook her loose grip off as well. "Duo, come upstairs with us, you can wait for him there."
"I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to wait for him right here." I was being infantile and stubborn but felt I had the right to be, after all I had been through that night.
Une made no contest. She left me alone in the desolate white space as she took the agents back up to the control room to debrief them. The single nurse I was left with looked at me hesitantly.
"You look very tired." She said with a timid voice.
"I am." There was no denying it. I glanced at my watch, squinting at the tiny hands.
"It's three fortyfive AM." She said and then offered to give me something to help me sleep.
"I need something to help me stay awake. Have that?"
She shook her head "no", she didn't want to give me something like that. It probably wasn't healthy, giving someone severely sleep deprived medicine that would keep him up.
I paced back and forth through the lobby, intently gazing down the hallway each time I walked towards it. It remained quiet. Maybe I had expected to hear Heero make noise. His arm had quite obviously been dislocated and setting it back into place would be an extremely painful procedure. But he was the Perfect Soldier. Being quiet was his thing. I never heard a single peep.
The nurse and the agent I had socked in the face came back out. He had a large bandage over his abused facial feature. He looked at me, warning me with his eyes, but stepped into the elevator and left without a single word or thrown punch. The two nurses whispered amongst themselves. I caught them looking at me. I smiled weakly but presumed it looked as crooked and horrible as it felt. The nurse that had offered me medicine disappeared into a room just off the main lobby. I heard her rummaging around in there and then the steady sound of plastic wheels over the white, tiled floor. I watched her push a white, plastic office chair towards me. She stopped two feet away from me and dug her hands deep into the pockets of her uniform. She fidgeted shyly and then said apologetically: "It's not the most comfortable..." She gave it a final push towards me.
I stared at the chair for a while, awed and touched by her kind offering. "Thank you." I said genuinely and rolled the chair to the wall - because it felt strange sitting down in the middle of the room - and positioned the chair so that, once seated, I could look down the hall unhindered, with my view unobstructed. As soon as I had seated myself, she returned and handed me a white plastic cup with water.
I accepted it gratefully. "Thank you." The cold water soothed my dry, sore throat.
The nurses were apparently quite interested in me. They talked to each other a lot in hushed whispers and looked over at me with steady intervals. They blushed as they - more than once - got caught looking, but always smiled and made me confident they had no ill intentions.
I assumed it was the braid. It was always the braid.
Another eternity passed as I waited, under the girlish scrutiny of the nurses.
Just as I got up, running on the last fumes of my patience and strength, a door at the far end opened and an agent dressed in black and an elderly doctor dressed in white, stepped out into the hallway. I hurried towards the end of the hall but their forms blocked my way. Both of them ignored me as the men talked to each other and occasionally pointed at something mentioned in the chart that the doctor was holding in his small, old hands. He ripped out a page, folded it awkwardly with one hand and then handed it to the agent, at which the agent accepted it and walked off.
"Sir, you are here for Special Agent Yuy?" The man questioned without taking his eyes off the chart.
"Yes."
"Follow me."
"But Heero is there, isn't he?" I weakly objected, pointing at the door that the doctor guided me further and further away from.
He opened a different door down the hall and ushered me inside. It was as white, sterile and alien as everything else had been. There was a single table, with two white chairs on opposite sides. In spite of my strong associations with interrogation rooms - which this particular room shared many similarities with - the first thing to cross my mind was: "The bad-news room". He told me to sit down, but I refused. All the while he didn't look at me, only at his chart through his thick glasses. He came across as a caricature of a man, short and thin, with emaciated features except for a prominent bulbous nose and heavy eyelids that made his gaze tired-looking. His frail figure appeared bird-like to me, as did his movements; sharp and quick.
He smacked his lips as he read through his own writing in the chart. The conversation started with a shallow cough. He spoke mechanically and quickly, making it hard for me to keep up with him.
"Preventer Special Agent H. Yuy. Presented at three thirty-nine AM." He never looked up as he read aloud a list I could vaguely see on the chart. "Internal injuries: Serious concussion. Dislocation of the right shoulder. Five cracked ribs on the right side, causing some respiratory issues. Bullet wound above the left hipbone, no vital organs hit. Shifted kneecap in the left leg. Tendonitis to the left Achilles tendon. External injuries: Lacerations on the right brow. Subconjunctival hemorrhage in the right eye. Lacerations to the left pinna. Third degree burns to the left pinna. First degree burns to the side of the neck. Deep laceration to the left upper arm. Superficial cuts to the torso area. Bullet wound, through and through, left thigh. Shallow laceration to the left knee."
He suddenly looked up at me, it startled me.
"How is he doing?" I asked meekly, turning shy under the man's ice blue stare.
"I just told you." He turned the page over and directed his attention back to the chart. "In-hospital-treatment," he started dutifully "Setting of the right shoulder. Immobilizing the shoulder with a brace. Supporting the arm with a sling. Bullet retrieved from midsection, wound disinfected, sutured and dressed. Knee cap readjusted and immobilized with knee brace. Surgery to the left Achilles, ankle bandaged for support. Left pinna: disinfected, bandages with a cooling gel applied. Laceration to the left upper arm: sutured and dressed. Cuts to the torso: bandaged. Bullet wound, left thigh: cleaned, sutured and dressed. Shallow laceration to the left knee: dressed. Administered a high dose of a morphinomimetic to relieve pain."
"What kind of morphinomimetic?" I inquired.
He looked at me sharply. "I can't tell you. Government issue. But expect him to feel pretty good tonight. Till it wears off."
"Strong stuff, huh?" I muttered.
"I continue," he announced, flipping another page, "out-patient care: Wake-up schedule. For the first episode of sleep after suffering the concussion, patient must be awoken every hour for the first six hours and asked simple questions for assessment of cognitive functions. After the initial six hours, another six hours of waking the patient every two hours. After twelve hours without signs of cognitive impairment, patient can sleep. Keep the right shoulder immobilized to allow stretched tendons and muscles to heel. Wear provided brace for an advised two weeks, continue to wear provided sling for four weeks."
I looked at my feet, I knew both the brace and the sling would be gone pretty quickly. Heero was the worst patient in that way. In many ways, actually.
"Keep bullet wound to midsection clean and frequently change the bandages. Immobilize the knee with the provided brace for four weeks. Put no wait on the knee for two weeks. Limit exercise to a minimum for an advised two to three months. Re-dress surgery-suture to the left ankle frequently, wound should heal in time with knee. Physical therapy required. Keep left Pinna clean, monitor healing of the wounds. Re-dress laceration to the upper arm frequently. Re-dress bullet wound to thigh frequently. Keep the wounds out of water to best of abilities. Do not let wounds get wet for an advised two days." he finished with a nod and then said the long-awaited words: "You may see him now."
I didn't need to be told twice. I let myself out of the room and found my own way around. There was minor trepidation as I stood by the door to where Heero would be. I was afraid anger would resurface and it would be an inappropriate moment. I wanted to take him home and get us both some rest. I could be angry with him later. I pushed the door open and expected to see his lonesome figure lying underneath white hospital sheets with exposed frailty. But when my eyes actually landed on his form, I knew there would be no anger coming out of me for a long time, the image was different, but still pathetic and heart wrenching.
I found him sitting on the edge of an examination table, dressed in a change of clothes that wasn't his; baggy jeans and a large, loose T-shirt in a faded shade of red. He was sitting completely still, looking down into his lap. I noticed the sling that held his right arm to his body and the dark blue brace that peeked from underneath the short sleeve. The knee brace was hidden behind the fabric of the jeans. He had only one shoe on, on his right foot, his left was bare except for the white bandage wrapped tightly around his ankle and the arch of his foot. His left ear looked like a big lump of whipped cream as the complex shape of it was awkwardly bandaged. Leaning against the bed was a single crutch.
I started towards him, my feet making no sound on the white floor. "Buddy?" I asked gingerly as I neared him. He didn't respond in any way, worrying me. He seemed frozen. I came to stand right by him and still he didn't move a muscle and he kept staring at his lap, sitting limply, drained. I bent over so I could look at his face, it looked ravished. His left cheek was red and irritated, a continuation of the first degree burn to his neck but a stark contrast to the pale appearance of the rest of his complexion. His lips were cracked. His chin, nose and right cheek has suffered friction with a rough surface, causing the skin to break. Two small band-aids kept the cut through his right eyebrow closed, so it could heal naturally. In his eye on that same side I noticed the hemorrhage that the doctor had mentioned, the outer half of the white of his eye was a bright, blood red. What scared me most about the eyes however was the dead, unfocused look in them. He seemed shell shocked. I touched his unharmed shoulder and finally managed to provoke eyecontact.
His gaze quickly shifted towards me, for a moment they did not seem to recognize me, but then something visibly dawned and he spoke with a weakened voice: "Hey."
It sounded so pathetic it nearly broke my heart. "Hey." I said back, sounding as carefree and unconcerned as I could muster.
"Are you mad?" He sounded so small and childlike.
"Yes." Unlike him, I didn't want to be dishonest. "But not right now. Later."
He nodded and looked very ashamed.
"Don't forget the wake-up schedule." The doctor, who had joined us, warned as he adjusted some surgical tools on a metal tray.
"I won't." I offered Heero my shoulder to lean on, to ease him off the table and then reached over and handed him the crutch. "But... what questions should I ask him?" Heero placed his one good foot on the floor and leaned heavily on the crutch. The disorientation was apparent in his eyes and the small surface area of the crutch provided little support. I decided, before he would crash to the floor, to take the crutch from him and wrap his left arm around my shoulders and my own arm around his waist, being mindful of the condition his body was in.
"Ask him his name. Your name. Where he is. How old he is. Any form of coherency and as long as he actually answers the questions, is fine."
I nodded. "Thanks."
He prepared a syringe, squirting a few milliliters of fluid out of the sharp end. "Go. I'm expecting my next patient."
I thanked him for helping Heero and guided my friend out of the treatment room. When we reached the lobby the elevator doors opened and an agent with a bloodied leg was wheeled in in a wheelchair. I looked away when I noticed the bone protruding through the skin. I realized Heero had been lucky, his injuries were relatively minor, just many of them. I didn't worry much about the physical damage, it was the psychological injury he had no doubt sustained that caused me concern.
The nurses had retrieved a wheelchair for Heero, but as high on drugs as he may have been he was also too haughty with pride to accept and stubbornly limped along by my side. Right before the doors of the elevator closed, the kind young nurse informed that with courtesy of Lady Une, a limousine was waiting downstairs to bring us home.
"What time is it?" Heero slurred, leaning his head heavily on my shoulders.
"I don't know, buddy. But don't worry, I'll get you home and into bed quick."
He moaned into my shirt.
With cumbersome steps we finally reached the exit. Another receptionist who had replaced Ona during the night bid us goodbye. The doors slid open with a muted hiss and a black limousine gleamed before us in the orange rays of the rising sun. It was morning already.
The driver opened the door for us and I helped Heero inside. Once I was seated myself and the driver took to the steering wheel I gave him the address that was our home. I couldn't wait to be there. I needed to forget all about this night, but I knew that I couldn't. I knew that no matter how hard I would try to ignore it, it would always be there. I hated this stained memory already.
Home felt alien and strange. When I opened our front door and looked into the living room, bathed in soft morning light, I didn't even recognize it. It was different, somehow. The lie had changed it, I glowered inwardly. I realized my happiness in an earlier moment had deceived me. My life had changed after all, not because of the danger of Heero's mission, but because of Heero's treacherous lie. The trust I thought we shared, what binded us, was gone, obliterated. That was the reality I now had to face. Heero had survived, but I something between us had died.
I sighed, there was nothing I could do to revive it at the time, all I could do was tend to the physical form of Heero. The wellfare of our relationship would have to be put on hold, till he was well enough for me to yell at without feeling guilty and concerned for his health.
"Come on." I groaned and dragged him along the last few feet to his bed. At his bedside I picked him up and gently laid him down. He was barely awake, moaning nothings, making halfhearted attempts to swat my hands away as I undressed him. I took off the sling and his shoe first. Then I urged him to sit up so I could take off the shirt. I pushed his good arm through first, then his head and finally slowly slipped it over his other arm, exposing the brace that was wrapped around his upper-arm and a structured plate over his entire shoulder area, secured by a strap looped around his neck and his chest, going under the other arm. I took my time examining all the little band-aids across his chest and abdomen, smelling the disinfectant in the bandages, the cuts themselves were minor, but as they were probably caused by shrapnel, an infection couldn't be risked. Blood was already soaking through the thick bandage wrapped around his left upper-arm. I discarded the shirt and then fumbled with his jeans, my tired eyes could barely see in the darkness of our blinded bedroom. Bandage was wrapped low all around his waist and I was careful not to let the jeans get caught on it and disturbing the bandage. I tugged the jeans down his leg, cursing under my breath as it caught on the edge of the knee brace. I unhooked it with dexterous fingers and then slid the garment off completely, shortly admiring the leg brace that fully embraced the joint, with the only opening right over his kneecap, which revealed the bandage of the shallow cut.
"You made a mess of yourself." I told him. The only response I got was a faint wheeze as he breathed slowly. Because he was lying on top of his own blanket, I got the extra one we kept in the closet and covered his undressed frame with it. When I was sure he was comfortable and warm I took two steps back and fell down onto my own bed. I glanced sideways at my alarm clock, it was about to go off, but I wouldn't be going to school today. I grabbed the clock and reset the alarm an hour later, in case I fell asleep, but tired as I may have been, sleep didn't come to me and I regretted not accepting the nurse's generous offer for some relaxing pills. In the darkened room, sunlight straining but failing to filter through the drapes, I listened to my own fast-paced heartbeat and Heero's slow, wheezed breathing.
I tried to imagine what happened in Africa, tried to fathom questions that would get me some answers out of him. The ceiling offered no resolve, no matter how determinedly I glared at it.
The hour went by quicker than expected. The alarm went off with a shrill, disturbing cry. I groaned and told my body to move. For a moment it disobeyed and remained limp in my bed but with a little more encouragement I was finally able to swing a leg over the edge of the bed and plant a foot on the floor and go from there. With an old man's groan I kneeled by Heero's bed and ran a hand through his hair, when that didn't wake him, I tapped his chest repetitively till his eyes fluttered open. He looked at me with large innocent eyes but the blood in the right orb reminded me painfully of what had transpired.
"Time for a little test."
All I got was a confused stare.
I sighed heavily. "What's my name, buddy?"
A deep frown appeared, the bandage over his eyebrow made noise as his face moved. His voice was weak and drowsy as he asked in reply: "Why? Did you forget?"
"What's my name?" I repeated.
"Your name is Duo Maxwell. You are Gundam pilot 02 and... you have a braid."
I chuckled suddenly, even though it cost my body unimaginable effort. "I see you are enjoying the drugs."
He moaned and closed his eyes, rolling his head away from me.
"Not yet, buddy. Now tell me what your name is." I tapped him on the chest again to get his undivided attention.
He kept his eyes closed but a frown reformed nonetheless. "It's not "buddy"?"
"No, it's not "buddy". What is your name?"
"I don't have a name..." His voice cracked and a pained expression appeared on his face. He let out a displeased groan.
"Okay, okay. I guess that's a pretty loaded question. For you and I both." I gently stroked his hair again, feeling the swelling that had caused the concussion. "What colony are we on?"
A victorious smile was evident in the slight curl to the corner of his lips. After a shallow intake of breath he muttered: "Hmm... Trick question, we are on earth."
"Very good. What year is it?"
He groaned again.
"Last question buddy, what year is it?"
"197." He muttered, not a trace of that smile left.
"Good, well done- And you're already falling asleep. Okay." I touched his undamaged ear, feeling the softness of the skin and briefly wondered if the other ear would heal properly. With a deep breath I guided my exhausted body back to my own bed and reset the alarm once more.
I counted the seconds in the hour, cursing sleep for neglecting me.
After turning off the alarm I literally rolled out of bed and crawled over to Heero's side to wake him.
"Hm?" He looked at me sloe-eyed.
Was it wrong to think at such a time that he looked sexy? I shook the thought from my mind and asked him for my name again.
"You forgot already?" He complained.
"Just tell me my name, Heero." I didn't mean to sound angry, but I was tired and consequently; impatient.
"Duo Maxwell." He shot back.
"Do I have a braid?" I resumed in a quieter voice.
"What? Do you need me to check?"
Accepting his sarcasm as an affirmative answer I went on: "Where do you work?" I tapped him on the chest again as he was near sleep. I repeated the question.
"I'm a preventer special agent at... the preventer agency for special agents... very special."
"Now, was that so hard?" I responded darkly.
He looked at me in confusion, he didn't understand the implied accusation.
"Nevermind, go back to sleep."
Heero promptly did, but I couldn't. I couldn't even move from my spot on the floor. I lay my arm along the edge of his bed and rested my head on it. It dawned on me what a long night - or day, rather - it was going to be. I set the alarm again, in case I would fall asleep, but I didn't. I blankly watched the numbers change on the digital display of my alarm clock till it went off again. My head was so heavy it strained my neck to hold it up, I could feel painful pressure building in the base vertebrae. It took more than a tap to the chest to wake Heero up. I shook him by his left shoulder till his eyes flew open.
"Pop quiz." I muttered. I was shocked that I didn't even recognize my own voice anymore. I sounded like an old man who had smoked all his life and had all the life and vividness squeezed out of him forcefully. "What my name?"
"Not again." He grumbled, reaching up to his face to rub his eyes.
"Yes, again. Say it." I pressed, struggling to control my temper, affected by lack of sleep and a betrayed heart.
"Duo Maxwell." He was unmistakably irritated. "Maybe you should write this stuff down."
I laughed, sudden and loud, it had caught me by surprise and simply burst out of me. I noticed a smile on Heero's face at my laughter and reminded myself to reserve my anger for later. "What's two plus two?"
"An easy question."
"You're a smart-ass when you're high. If the question's so simple, why don't you answer it?"
He sighed in defeat. He winced sharply as his broken ribs aggrevated his lung. "Four." He grounded out through his teeth.
I touched his arm gently with my calloused fingers, hoping to offer some relief. "What's two times five?"
Knowing that I would not allow him to bypass the question with a clever remark, he answered immediately, correctly.
"Ding! Ding! Ding! We have a winner!" I chuckled and ran my hand through his hair again.
Encouragingly he leaned into my touch. "I like winning." He muttered absent-mindedly.
"I'm sure you do." I chuckled lightly. "Go back to sleep, Mister Comedy."
"Next time, come with more original questions." He slurred before sleep overcame him.
I fumbled with the alarm to set a new time. I waited for sleep to take me too, but it refused, sleep was like a train and it raced past my station. I rose to my feet and found my way to the bathroom by touch, not because it was so dark, but because I despite my best efforts, I couldn't force my eyes to open. I stumbled towards the sink and washed my face with ice cold water. When I cracked open one eye and looked at my reflection, I didn't see myself, I saw a disheveled man that looked like he had aged a decade in the last rotation of the earth. With fingers trembling from exhaustion I shaved away the rough stubble that had appeared and then dunked my head under the open faucet, not fussing about getting my hair wet. My face was dripping when the alarm went off, so I wiped it sloppily with the front of my T-shirt as I made my way back to the nightstand. Heero seemed undisturbed by the loud shrieking.
I sat down on the edge of his bed and shook him awake once more.
"What is Marilyn Monroe's date of death?" I asked when his eyes found me.
"What? I don't even know who that is." He grumbled. "Wait, is that that weather girl you liked?"
I chuckled again, I couldn't help but be warmed inside by his uncharacteristic adorableness. "Yes, you are absolutely right..." I realized my changed strategy wasn't working and returned to simple questions. "What's rule number one?"
His face turned serious. "The mission has priority." The words didn't sound like his. They weren't, he was just repeating a recording from a long time ago.
"The weight of Wing?"
"7.1 tons." He closed his eyes again. "It hurts to breathe." He admitted in a whisper and took in a deep breath that caused him to wince visibly.
"I know. I have that too sometimes." But not because a piece of rib-bone is pricking into my lung, I added inwardly, you are the cause of it.
"Go back to sleep." I kissed his lips lightly, but he was unresponsive, already fast asleep.
I continued to wake him up every hour and then every two hours as the doctor had said, remaining on the floor by his bedside. When the twelfth hour had passed and the world was dark again outside, I made my way back to the comfort of my own bed and rather than blissfully fall asleep, I promptly passed out.
I really hope I will be able to write and post again next weekend!