Wufei immediately takes over the rollaway bed when they return to the hotel and Quatre moves to share with Duo. "Nothing to do but lie around and die of boredom," Duo is lamenting when Heero exits the bathroom, freshly showered.
"Could you die a little quieter?" Wufei asks. He's sitting cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed and meditating.
"Yeah, sure, no problem," Duo replies loudly.
Heero glances around the room, amazed at how one additional person can make it feel so much more cramped. He spies Quatre out on the balcony talking into his phone. No doubt relaying the Preventers meeting to his Maganac companions. "Where's Trowa?"
Duo shrugs. "How should I know? Does anyone tell me anything?"
Wufei makes a frustrated noise from the floor. "He took a laptop and disappeared out the door ten minutes ago."
Duo rolls over, cracks an eye open to stare at Heero. "Which I told him not to do, FYI. I told him you were possessive of your things."
"Hm," he agrees. He pulls on his sneakers and jacket, grabs Quatre's ridiculous knit scarf from where he left it coiled on the bed.
"Hey, where are you going?"
"Out," Heero replies, heading for the door.
"Sure," Duo whines piteously. "Why would anyone tell me anything?"
As the door closes behind him, he can just make out Wufei's terse reply of "Maybe if you were quiet more often you'd learn something, Maxwell."
"Bite me, Wufei."
. . ... . .
The front of the hospital is clogged with reporters and protestors calling for Mariemaia's blood. Heero wraps the scarf around his neck, tilting his face down into it. He hunches his shoulders, shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, and pushes his way through the crowd toward the lobby doors. There are Preventers agents out front attempting crowd control.
They stop him; run a metal detector over him before he's allowed inside the hospital. From there he makes his way to the information desk, pulls out the Preventers ID badge. "I'm looking for Lady Une," he states.
The receptionist gives the badge a cursory look and runs a finger down a print out. "She'll probably be in the Family Lounge on the fifth floor. You need to sign in and get your visitor pass to go upstairs."
"Of course," he replies. He takes the pen and clipboard she hands him, flashes her a small smile. Enough to be friendly, not enough to be suspicious. She gives him a tired one in return. "It's a madhouse out there," he comments off-handedly.
"You have no idea, Agent Leon. Just this morning we were put on lockdown because two men tried to smuggle explosives in." She takes the clipboard back and shakes her head. "All because of that girl."
Heero nods, waiting while the computer prints the temporary pass. "Look like she'll make it?" he asks.
She hands him the badge and shrugs. "I only see the names and room numbers. She's on the fifth floor, intensive care recovery, not ICU proper. Looks like she might have an angel looking out for her after all."
"Looks like," he agrees. He sticks the badge to the front of his jacket and nods at her. "Thank you for your help."
"Of course, just remember to check-out before you leave, Agent Leon. The elevators are over there," she says, pointing. He nods and heads in the direction she indicated.
. . ... . .
He shakes his head when he sees the fifth floor's security. It's a miracle the two would-be assassins didn't make it up here and finish the job already. He wanders down the hallway unquestioned, sees two uniformed Preventers chatting at the nurse's station, their laughter carrying down the hall while a plainclothes agent idly flips through a magazine with only a cursory look up every few minutes. Either they're new or Lady Une is losing her touch.
The girl's room is the last one on the right. The glass doors are closed, but he sees that she's awake, watching television. She looks small in the large bed. He steps up to the doors and they slide open automatically. He can hear a rerun of one of Relena's speeches. He thinks it's the one where she's asking people to feel compassion for the rebel survivors, especially their leader who saved her life.
"Honestly, I don't need to be checked on every five minutes," the girl says without looking up. "It's not like I'm going anywhere."
"You look well," he states.
He sees her shoulders tense and she turns her head to look at him. There's no fear in her eyes, just a hardness he isn't sure how to interpret. "Heero Yuy," she says, voice bland. "That scarf is ridiculous." She watches him approach, body tense and eyes wary but not fearful. It's the same look the lions at the circus used to give him when he was recovering.
"You've made quite the stir," he replies. He drops into one of the chairs, pulls the scarf from around his neck and stuffs it into his jacket pocket.
"What do you want?" she asks.
He glances at the television, hears Relena saying We must exercise our compassion in these difficult times, Mariemaia is a misguided child… and knows it's the speech he was thinking of. "To apologize."
That gets her attention. She pushes herself up in bed with her arms, her legs dragging against the mattress. He doesn't look at them and she doesn't comment. "What do you have to apologize for?" she demands.
"For not killing you when I had the chance," he answers. He watches her face, sees her mouth draw into a thin line. She's much too serious for seven, he thinks. "I could have spared you the looks and the false sympathy." He looks at the television. "And the pity."
She laughs and he looks back at her. She looks amused and bitter. "And what would you know of pity and false sympathy, Heero Yuy?" she asks. Her eyes are piercing, a shade lighter than Treize's. "You and your fellow Gundam pilots are the world saviors once more. You defeated the rebellion; you crippled its leader-"
"I did not cripple you, Mariemaia. You did that on your own when you stepped in front of your grandfather's gun."
She sighs, fiddles with the blanket covering her. "What do you want?" she repeats.
He shrugs, not really sure how to answer. "I wanted to see how you were doing."
"That's it?" There's a suspicious note to her voice and her eyebrows have risen. He shrugs and she shakes her head. On an impulse he reaches over and grabs her remote. "What are you doing?"
"You shouldn't be watching press conferences," he replies. He flips stations until he finds some kind of animated show. "Act like a kid and maybe they'll start seeing you as one."
She's still staring at him incredulously. "Your solution is cartoons?"
He shrugs, wraps the scarf back around his neck. "Can't hurt," he replies. "Pilot 02 watches them all the time and plenty of people underestimate him." He walks out while she's still blinking owlishly at him.
Lady Une is at the nurse's station when he enters the hallway. He pauses, weighing his options between taking the emergency stairs or sneaking past her. If there hadn't already been a security breech earlier, he would chance the alarmed stairwell, but he doesn't really want to experience Preventers' hospitality at the moment.
Heero steps lightly down the hallway, head down without looking like he's rushing anywhere in particular. Lady Une's back is to the main hallway, her shoulders stiff and almost visibly vibrating with tension, as she addresses her wayward agents. The soft-spoken Lady has been replaced with the battle-hardened Colonel. Heero slows slightly, watches the scene as he passes, and listens to the verbal lashing she doles out.
Lady Une half-turns, as if she senses his passing, and he catches her eye briefly. She frowns but returns her attention to the agents again. Heero takes it as dismissal and doesn't hang around to eavesdrop further.