Yay! Someone reviewed my last chapter! But only one. I guess I shouldn't have expected much. Sarah often tells me that no one really reviews her stories, either. Please, if you've read this story, tell me what you think. I've worked long and hard to come up with an original plot, although it doesn't quite seem that way just yet. Thank you, Anonymous Reader, for reviewing this story and giving me the strength I need to carry on.

Sarah let my borrow her one character, Dirken, for this story, with a few twists. He doesn't show up until later, but he's there.

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its respective characters.

Orbs of Emerald

Chapter 2: Dream-Crossed Realities.

***

"Jonathon, what are you doing?" I asked my brother carefully, so as not to hurt his brittle feelings. "That doesn't look like the one in the book." We were making kites to fly out in the field. It was one of the few things we could do outside because of the base that was so near to us. We passed our time any way we could, be it reading, writing, running, anything we could do to stay out of the range of boredom and fear.

"I know," he answered. "I'm trying something different. You know, you don't have to always go by the book, Jem. It's fun to just be free to do whatever you want to."
"Yeah, I know, but..."
"Come on. Let's see which of ours can fly the highest," he grinned. "Race ya to the field!"
"You're on!" I screamed to both offers, then dashed off toward the field. He ran after me, yelling something about me getting a head start.

"Jem! Jon! Come back, quickly! The Gundams are attacking!" Dad yelled at us.

"Okay, we're coming!" I called back, stopping immediately in my tracks. Jonathon pulled ahead, unaware of the danger. "Come back, Jon, the Gundams...the Gundams are here! They're attacking the base!" He stopped and looked back at me, his eyes wide. Then he did something I would never have expected out of my normally-quiet brother.
"Really? Cool! I wanna see 'em!" Jon ran toward the defending Mobil Dolls rather than heading toward the shelter dad had dug. "Come on, Jeminie! Let's go see them!"

"Jonathon!" I called after him, then made a mad dash to catch up with him, still holding my kite in my left hand. I had worked so hard on it, I didn't want to lose it by dropping it. "Jon, it's not safe!"
"No where's safe," he answered as I caught up. "Might as well be right up in the action, right?"
"Wrong, let's go to the shelter," I tugged his arm, but our equal strengths were too balanced. I gave up and let him have his fun, waiting impatiently for him to come to his senses and come back to the shelter with me. He peeked around the corner of the building, then gestured for me to look too. Curiosity took the best of me and I stole a glance around the corner in time to see the huge robot-like thing destroy another military barracks. This is what we got for living so close to the base.

"Come on, Jonathon, it isn't safe here," I tugged his arm again. "It's a little safer in the shelter, let's go, right now!"

"Okay, okay, I'm coming," he relented and I dragged him back to the shelter. But I saw a new sort of light in his eyes, a light that I didn't trust. And I didn't like things that I couldn't trust. Just as we reached the shelter, I climbed inside, but I heard a round of fire outside before Jon was completely inside. He held his whole weight on one hand as he climbed down the ladder, then suddenly screamed in violent pain, dropping nearly on top of me.
"My hand, my hand!" he cried, and when we finally got him in light, we (my dad and I) saw that he had a major burn on it.

"Stupid Gundams," I murmured. "Why must they do this to our city?" I gathered the first-aid kit my father had placed down here and placed it in front of my father and brother.
"It's because of that stupid base," Dad muttered. "We're moving as soon as I'm sure it's safe. No more bases." I nodded and we began to treat Jonathon's hand.

The vision melted from view then, as though a person had run a watercolor through a washer. Another scene began to play out before me, another from the past, another painful one.

"He-he joined the br-brigade, Daddy," I whispered softly to my father. His blue eyes went wide. I had always been told before that my eyes were just like my father's: green as spring grass, bright, and innocently wide. But now, the brightness in his dimmed and he pulled me close.

"If he...if he comes back, Jem...tell him...tell him..." I never found out what he wanted me to tell Jon, for he passed out right then. I called 9-1-1 quickly and an ambulance raced to the scene.

"He'll be all right, miss," said one of the paramedics as they loaded him like cargo into the back of the truck.

He was wrong. The moment we reached the hospital, John Irving Kinde was pronounced dead. And his daughter was left all alone in the world.

The scene melted again.

I sat at home, reading a book absent-mindedly. I wasn't truly reading it, not like I used to. I missed my father, missed my twin, and I missed my imagination. It wouldn't work unless there was someone there, someone who cared. Nobody cared about Jeminie Renai Kinde, nobody but her twin brother, who was off fighting a losing battle.

The phone rang and I answered it. I wish forever now that I hadn't answered that phone.
"Hello, is this Miss Jeminie Kinde?" asked a calm, cruel voice.

"Yes, it is," I nodded as I spoke, though I knew the man on the other end could not see it. "Who is this?"

"My name is irrelevant. But I must inform you, the only remaining family member to Jonathon Douglous Kinde, that he has perished bravely in the great battle against Oz. That is all. Good day to you." Then he'd hung up.

I dropped the phone. Perished? Jonathon had...perished?!

I found out later that he hadn't "perished bravely", as the officer had told me. He had been led there blindly by his "superiors" and straight into a trap. It, as far as I knew, had been a massacre. Not one soldier survived that day. Not one.

Just then, as the fact that my twin brother, the only person who cared about me, had died, the sirens went off. The booming voices warned of the Mobile Dolls attacking. I dove, still numb, into the cellar.

When the emergency was over, I crawled out of an ashes-and-rubble-covered door. The last remaining bit of my past had been destroyed. What little remained was what had been in the basement. A load of laundry, all mine. My locket, the one my father had made for me, filled with the family picture taken the day before our mother had died by the hands of more Mobile Dolls. I was thirteen in that picture. I was happy.

But no more.

There were other items, for certain, that I'd plucked from the debris. One was the twin stuffed kitties that my brother and I had been given when we were little. Another was a leather satchel that my brother had used to go to school, empty. I'd stuffed everything that I had found into the satchel, and it was now all that I owned.

The vision swirled again, but when it came into focus, it came slowly. Achingly slow, like a caterpillar compared to a jaguar as opposed to this picture to the last ones. My eyes were not open, I found at last, then groaned inwardly as I realized that I had been dreaming about my past. I wondered fleetingly where I'd had the misfortune of passing out, but shrugged it off until I realized that I wasn't lying on the ground or a bench or something.

I was in a bed. With sheets and a thin comforter covering my slightly sweaty body. A shoot of pain shot up my side, making me wince and tighten my grip on the comforter. My eyes closed tighter and then flew open. I attempted to sit up, but failed and fell backwards, giving up, knowing that pain would soon follow after I landed on the pillow.
However, half way through the collapse, strong arms caught me and gently settled me against the pillow again.
"You!" I seethed out when I saw my "rescuer". "What happened? Where am I? What the hell is going on, Maxwell?!" The braided boy chuckled and sat down in a seat beside my bed. Upon closer inspection, I saw that he looked extremely tired and that it looked like he had slept in his clothes a few times, too. His hair was a little mottled as well, but I think he'd found a brush and fixed it at one point, without looking in a mirror, though.

"You pushed Yuy too far, that's what happened," answered a voice behind Maxwell. It was the black-haired Chinese boy, Wufei.

"As for the 'where', you're at my house," said another voice and then appeared the blond, Quatre. He seemed sweet enough. Too sweet. This stupid life had made me so suspicious, and I hated the feeling of envy that burned my soul.

"What the hell is this?!" I screeched, but winced as another pang coursed through my body.

"Well, you did ask for it," answered a silky-smooth monotone. It was the trigger-happy boy. Joy. Like I really wanted to see him.

"What the heck's that supposed to mean!?" I shouted, my face burning, nearly scorching itself in the process. I was about ready to throw my hands around the idiots' necks and squeeze the life out of them, but I was sorely outnumbered. "I asked you to kill me, not wound me! And what's all the fuss about if you guys won't let me go home?!"

"You brought her here, Maxwell," Wufei smirked. "You deal with her." With that, the boy turned on his heel and walked, or rather, marched out of there.

"I hate to say it, but Wufei is right," Quatre said quietly, giving me a small bow before walking out. "Please, get better soon, Jem."
"Come on, Heero," Trowa told the stoic boy.

"No," he answered. "I will assist Duo. I do not trust this girl."
"Well, I don't trust you either, if that's any consolation," I shot back, then grimaced in pain once again.
"It's not really wise to move or yell with a wound like that," Maxwell warned me. "I should know, I've had worse." He grinned and sat down on the end of the bed. Heero took the chair. "You know, it's not a good idea to provoke this guy unless you can handle him."
"I could've handled him if I wasn't like this," I snarled. "Will you just leave me alone!? Drop me off back on Earth, and leave me be!"

"We cannot do that," Heero droned. "It is against procedure."
"Procedure? You mean, you guys have to follow rules?" I found this extremely hard to believe. These five idiots, who had the power in their grasps to destroy multiple opponents and remain a mystery to the rest of the world, had to follow rules? It was just too uncanny to think about. "As in, you guys don't control what you do?"

"Yeah, basically," Maxwell shrugged. "We do what our superiors want us to. That's why we carry around those laptops. They give us missions through them."
"Duo!" Heero warned loudly. "That is classified information, you do not have the-"
"Heero, if she's gotta stay here, why not let her know the ropes? Maybe she can help, who knows?" Maxwell shrugged again.

"Why would that be classified?" I asked, dumbfounded. "What is the problem with that getting out?"
"The information could be traced then," Maxwell answered. "We've been given a strict moral code that we can't break. If we do, it's bye-bye us." My eyes widened upon a single realization: These boys did not know freedom. They were the slaves of their missions, to their superiors. And they could never escape, for if they did, they would be hunted down and killed, one by one.
"Fine," I muttered. "I won't try to escape. I'll help you any way I can, with the exception of housework. I'm not that type of girl, regardless of what you five may think."
"Great!" Maxwell grinned. "Hey, you guys!" He raced out the room, leaving Heero and I alone. I nearly grimaced at the thought of being in one room alone with that walking Perfect Soldier, but did not let my emotion show. I would attempt to be another Perfect Soldier now. My brother tried and failed. It was my destiny to pick up where he had left off.

"Why?" Heero asked, breaking into my thought. I looked at him in shock, surprised and baffled he had even spoken at all.
"Excuse me?"

"Why did you agree?" his face was as stony as ever, but his voice had lost some of its monotonous qualities. However, it wasn't true emotion I heard, only confusion.

"Because I discovered just how futile it was," I answered, not speaking the whole truth, but this seemed enough for him, for he left it at that. It was my turn to ask a question. "Why didn't you kill me, like you said?"

He seemed taken aback by my question. He contemplated it in his head, then answered. "I wanted to see how you would react. A test."

This answer left me more baffled than ever before. Why would he want to test me? Why would he want to see my reaction to getting shot in the side and not getting dealt a lethal blow, as he promised.

"Yuy!" I heard Wufei's voice yell.

Heero walked out the door, leaving me alone to construe everything I had been told and why my memories had jumped back to me in my slumber. However, curiosity got the better of me and I crawled out of the bed, clutching my side to keep any blood in. It then occurred to me something I had not previously thought.

If my wound had been bandaged, who had bandaged me?

This thought fresh on my mind, I crawled carefully, ever so gingerly over the carpeted floor toward the banister, hoping to be able to catch what the guys were saying in the living room. What met my ears did not surprise me.

"We cannot allow a woman to accompany us on such a mission!" Wufei was arguing.

"She's strong, Wu-man, stronger than I've ever seen a girl her age," Maxwell argued back. "She should've been knocked out for at least another week with a wound like that. I'd still be screaming at the top of my lungs, instead she's only wincing when she moves."
"You have to admit, Wufei, she does possess qualities unlike any woman we've seen previously," Heero's monotone greeted my ears.

"And she's got a good motivation, too," Trowa, the normally-silent one, spoke up. "Not many people could keep from killing us with the things she's gone through because of our battles."
"Did you hear her?" Quatre asked.

"Huh?!" All four of the others were clueless.

"She was talking in her sleep while I was bandaging her wound," the blond explained. So that's who bandaged me. Good, he didn't seem the perverted type. But what was this about me talking in my sleep? "I think she was having flashbacks or something."
"What in the world could she have been talking about in her sleep?" Maxwell asked, sounding clueless.

"The first sounded like a one-sided conversation with her brother," Quatre said. "I think they were closer than we've previously assumed. She was talking about a kite, then we attacked. She said something about a base. And her brother's hand being burned."
"The little boy's hand at Nara," Heero sounded distant. "I remember that. I saw a little boy's hand in the ground when I fired at the base."
"It might've been him, I dunno," Quatre shrugged. "She didn't mention if it was Nara or not." Little did they know, Heero was right. It had been Nara and it had been my brother. I grit my teeth in anger, trying to repress the urge to scream curses wildly at them. Just hell is allowed, remember, Jem? You're only allowed as far as hell and heck, remember?

"Then it sounded like the scene switched, or something, and she was yelling out that her father was dead. Then it sounded like she had gotten the mandatory telephone call from one of the less-concerned officers who were informing family of deaths and injuries. It sounded like her brother had died all over again, there were tears going down her cheeks and everything."
"It just proves that she's weak," Wufei said, sounding confident. I nearly countered it, but reduced myself to stewing, a deep scowl on my face. The scowl became confusion, however, when the conversation turned around.

"No, it doesn't," Heero sighed, sounding more human than ever before. "It just proves that she cared about her family a lot." My eyebrows shot up. What did he care? How would he know about caring at all?
"And we took it from her," Maxwell sighed, sounding so sad it nearly brought me to stop the procession right there.

"Fine," Wufei growled finally. "But we train her first before we invade the X Force's base."
"Someone's got to find the base first," Quatre pointed out.
"I'll do it," spoke up Trowa. "I'll start on it now. You guys get to train her." I heard receding footsteps. Realizing they'd probably be heading upstairs sooner or later to inform me, I crawled carefully back into the room, using the conveniently-placed chair to climb back under the covers and catch my breath from the effort. I crossed my arms over my chest and stared out the window, which was right next to the bed.

It was about fifteen minutes later that I heard footsteps walking up the stairs and into my room.

"Hey, you're still up," said a voice by the door. I turned and saw it was Maxwell, once again. "I brought you something to eat, in case you were hungry." I couldn't help but smile weakly as he handed me the plate of sandwiches and a glass of water.

"Thanks," I said, then returned slightly to looking out at the sky. "Sorry I've been sort of a pain in the neck. Not exactly the sort of person you expected, eh?"

"Not really," he laughed. His face changed to serious so quickly, shock ran down my spine. But I did not let it show. Just like a good little Perfect Soldier. "Quatre told us...about your dreams. You were talking in your sleep while he was bandaging your side."

"Yeah, I know," I confessed, my ears turning plum and my face crimson. "I was listening." He stared blankly then started laughing again.

"Then I guess you know that we're going to start training you soon, right?"

"Yeah," I nodded, not meeting his eyes as I started eating. "Why'd all you guys stick up for me like that? It's not like I've been very nice to any of you. Especially you, Maxwell." My eyes swiveled once to look at him, then I continued stargazing.
"You can call me Duo, you know," he said, sitting backwards in the seat. "It wasn't so much as sticking up for you as it was to get Wufei to stop thinking of women as weak."
"Where does he get his opinion of women anyway?" I asked, looking at him strangely, one sandwich devoured.

"I don't know, probably the same place he got his weird sense of justice and honor, too," Duo exclaimed, twirling his finger by his head, indicating that he did not consider Wufei to be sound of mind. To keep from laughing, I spoke again.

"So, what are you guys going to be training me about, anyway?" I asked, finishing another sandwich.

"Hand-to-hand, different weaponry, Mobile Doll controls, driving, the works, I suppose," Duo answered with a shrug.

"Might as well have sent me off to boot camp," I mumbled, rolling my eyes sarcastically.
"Believe me, it's worse than boot camp, especially with Wufei breathing down our necks about it," Duo imitated what I assumed to be Wufei's special technique in hand-to-hand, but taking it

way out of proportion. It made me laugh, but I stifled it into a small giggle.

"MAXWELL!"
"Better get going," I taunted him. "Your nightmare wants you."

"Wufei can yell all he wants, but he can't live without me anyway," Duo whispered. I kept a straight face as he walked out of the room again, carrying the empty plate and glass with him. Staring up at the stars once again, a shooting star gave its light to me.

"A wish..." I whispered to myself, thinking. Although I wasn't quite as superstitious as my brother, wishing on a star wasn't going to hurt anything anyway. "I wish to find my true destiny and find a way to avenge my brother's death." With the wish sealed with my own words, I slipped into my sleep once again, not wanting to ever awaken again.

***

She doesn't really wanna live, does she? I hope you'll find the time and energy to review this story. Please, send me anything. I accept Anonymous reviews. I accept flames, even! Cuss me out or just ask me to continue the story, anything but the silence!

I know silence is golden, but I like noise and plenty of it! I listen to music while I write. PLEASE tell me what you think. Please? *puppy eyes*

Oh, and don't be fooled by my penname. This may or may not be a Jem/Heero fiction. Hey, I know, give me a vote! Come on, tell me who you'd like to match up with Jeminie! Please? Or maybe you don't want her matched up at all and I don't make this a romance, too. That's possible too, ya know.