Disclaimer: Not mine

Disclaimer: Not mine. Perhaps unfortunately, most likely fortunately. Not mine.

AN: Sorry this is short, but I need to make Part 3 decent-sized too!

Fall Away

Part 2

I hurried down the metal hallways of the hangar buried beneath the desert sands, bright lights dimmed due to the early morning hour.

It was six-fifteen; by the time I had gotten out of the shower, Duo was gone. I felt terrible – like his absence had torn the cold hole in my soul deeper. Like he was telling me something.

I hoped he wasn't.

I watched my feet pound on the metal floor, left, right, left, right, lef –

*SLAM!*

"Hey! Watch where you're going, onna!"

I looked up at the thing I'd just run into. It was a rather grouchy-looking Wufei, peering down at me through narrowed eyes.

I knew I should tell him that I was sorry, that I hadn't meant to run into him. But somehow under his gaze any apologies I had formulated withered and died, and I was left speechless, staring up at him, my entire body frozen, still in the shock and horror of being left alone like that.

He looked at me, as if wondering why I hadn't apologized for being the jerk I was.

"Hmph. After Maxwell, I suppose," he muttered to himself before sidestepping me and continuing down the hall, his footfalls almost silent, startlingly different from my pounding feet.

I turned and watched back retreat.

What had he meant by *that*?

"Hey! What do you mean?!" I called after him before I realized what I was doing, not knowing why my voice was working now and not before.

He stopped and turned around, face still showing clear annoyance.

"What?"

"What did you mean?" I asked again, not knowing why I was making him explain himself, I was going to get myself killed if I annoyed him any further –

His eyes narrowed even more. "I don't need to explain myself to you, *woman*," he snapped before turning and leaving.

I stood there. I was confused, and there was something cold tearing at me. I turned back towards the elevator that led down to the bay.

I didn't really want to talk to Duo now. I kind of just wanted to lie down and cry.

I sighed and turned back, heading for our room at a much-reduced pace. Maybe that's what I would do.

I turned the corner a couple of minutes later, and again hit something tall and flesh-feeling.

"What the *hell* are you doing?!"

I looked up to see an even angrier Wufei staring down at me – I'd managed to beat all odds and run head-on into him again as he stood in the hall, fixing something on one of the wall panels. His hands were buried in wires and the grey panel cover lay at his feet. His face, however, was turned towards me and scowling, more so than I had seen in a while. I dimly supposed I could see why.

Again I couldn't bring myself to speak, to apologize. I could feel my eyes burning with the need to cry, but I was not going to cry in front of Wufei, of all people. That really would be suicide.

His gaze stiffened and I felt like ice beneath it. "Weren't you going the other way?" he growled.

I knew he still didn't trust me. Quatre had tried to convince me that Wufei didn't think I was an OZ spy, but I could see it in his gaze every time the Chinese pilot looked at me, hear it in his voice every time his icy tones were directed at me. More so when they weren't. The pilot, if he had ever trusted me before all of this, most certainly no longer did. He watched me every step I took, waiting for me to slip up so he would have an excuse to slit my throat and be done with me.

I nodded numbly in response to his question.

"What about Maxwell?"

I blinked. "Huh?" The quasi-word escaped my mouth before I could stop it, and I was left staring stupidly up at the black-haired boy.

He sighed, like he didn't have the time to get caught up in my affairs. Like he definitely didn't want to. Like he didn't know why he wasn't currently disemboweling me.

"Weren't you going after him? He stormed down the hall not ten minutes ago; I merely assumed – apparently mistakenly so – that you were going after him to apologize for whatever you did this time."

I stared up at the boy in shock. *This time*?

"Wh- what?!"

He looked like he did not want to be having this conversation. He sounded like he did not want to have this conversation.

*I* did not want to have this conversation. He was – he was presumptuous and condescending and he hated my guts.

"I – I didn't – argh!" I was aware of the first hot tear rolling down my face before I nearly tripped over Wufei in my scramble to get around him, to run back down the hallway towards my door.

I stopped in front of it, the edges blurred by the tears freely streaming down my face now. I did not want to be crying. I did not want to go back in there, either.

Where else was I supposed to go? I didn't belong anywhere – not here, not in there –

I sat down outside the door and just put my head on my knees, unable to sob silently any longer. I didn't care how much noise I made. Not anymore.

"Oi, onna, stop it. Only the weak cry. And it's very annoying," a voice snapped from above me.

I didn't need to look up to know that Wufei was standing over me, no doubt disgusted with me and seriously contemplating skewering me.

"Go away!"

"I can't work with you carrying on like that. Stop it."

"What do you care?!"

"I already told you. I don't *care*. You're disrupting my work."

I lifted my head stared up at him; he stood above me, arms crossed, looking down at me with a slightly disgusted look.

That was it. Something inside me snapped, and I had gotten to my feet and pulled back and punched that damned boy right in the face before I knew what I was doing.

I stood there, staring at my fist as he stared at me with wide eyes. He hadn't expected me to do that. *I* hadn't expected me to do that.

His gaze hardened and his eyes narrowed until they were mere slits in his face, glinting angrily. "You, onna, just made a huge mistake."

The first punch he threw hit me square in the right cheek, throwing my head to the side and stinging ferociously.

But I wasn't going to let an enemy like him do that to me. I ducked the next punch and made to sweep his legs out from under him with a kick; he jumped and would've come down with a hard kick right where I was if I hadn't sidestepped to the left and brought my knee up to meet him.

He stood there looking at me; I could tell that last kick had done some damage but he wasn't letting it show in the least. I was impressed.

"I knew you were hiding something," he growled before slamming me in the gut with his own kick, delivered so fast that I didn't have time to dodge.

At this close range, it hurt, and I was sure I felt some ribs crack.

I blocked his next couple of punches pretty well, although I was vaguely aware that he was getting to me. I had been losing ground, I noticed, backing up to give with each punch he threw. Soon I was going to hit the wall and then I'd have nowhere to go.

That was what he wanted. But I could use it against him.

My back hit the wall, and instead of blocking the next punch I sidestepped it, letting his fist connect with the metal instead of my flesh. He scowled angrily down at me but I pushed him back with another knee to his stomach; he stumbled for a mere second before straightening.

So I was getting to him.

A few punches later my mouth tasted of blood, and I spat it out before bringing an elbow down on his shoulder, getting him to move enough so that my back wasn't to the wall.

"You're holding back," I told him; it was obvious from his movements, the way his hits connected that he wasn't taking this seriously.

He looked at me, eyes cold and hard and anything but human, anything but merciful. "If that's the way you want it – "