Warning: shounen ai
Disclaimer: GW isn't
mine (though I really want to take Wuffie…) It's owned by richer, happier
people of whom I beg not to sue.
C&C? Please!!
From Forever to
Forever
Part Nine: To Honor
October 23rd,
A.C. 207—WuFei Chang—10:52 a.m.
"WuFei," Lady Une leans on my desk,
her eyes boring into mine. "You're a
good soldier. You're the most observant
man I've ever met. This report makes no
sense to me, and I know it's because you've left out vital
information. This was the best team the
Preventors ever had—I want to know why two of my men are in the hospital with
bullet wounds."
I scowl. "An enemy got by and managed to get a shot at Trowa. Quatre stopped to help Trowa escape, and
made himself an easy target. It's just
as I wrote."
She stands up straight, dropping my
mission report on the desk. "I want it
rewritten—with the whole story." She
stalks over to the door of my office, then stops. "Consider yourself lucky that the hostages weren't harmed. That could've been disastrous for the
department."
After she leaves, Sally steps closer
to the desk. "Will you tell me the
truth?"
I shove my report toward her. "Read it for yourself."
"Damn it, WuFei! Can't you trust me? We've only been living together for ten
years!"
She doesn't understand. "If I tell you, you'll have to report it to
Lady Une. It's not anything that will
hurt the Preventor Operations in the future, since Duo, Heero, and Quatre were
only helping us for this one mission. And it was successful. We
completed our objectives, so just let it go."
She glares at me for a minute, then
reaches over and rips the Preventor patch off of her jacket-sleeve. "Does this make a difference?" she asks,
throwing it onto my desk.
I shake my head and she storms out
of the office.
How can I tell her that Trowa and
Quatre were hurt because Duo balked?
We had been the snipers covering
Quatre as he downloaded security information from the terrorists'
database. Heero and Trowa were supposed
to be there already, after sneaking in from the opposite side.
From my alcove I could see Duo, and
a soldier approaching Quatre. He was
closer to Duo, so I waited. But Duo
didn't shoot. I watched his face—his
eyes narrowing as he was about to pull the trigger. But then he looked shocked and surprised, and maybe even
guilty. He shrank back into his corner,
letting the terrorist pass.
I tried to cover—I shot at the man,
but the angle was bad and I missed. The
soldier was warned of our presence, and immediately shot at Quatre.
And Trowa, who had just run in with
Heero, pushed Quatre out of the way and took the bullet through his lung. After that, Quatre did his best to drag
Trowa out of the building, but in doing so, took several bullets himself.
I sit back in my chair, taking the
mission report in my hands. I'll change
it, but I won't expose anyone.
Preventors aren't supposed to
develop a conscience. And they're
trained to leave a man down if they're in danger. But I'm glad Trowa saved Quatre. It would've killed Quatre—it would've got him through the heart.
But why? They're best friends, I know. I can't help but wonder, though, if there isn't something more that I'm
missing.
When Trowa and I went to tell Quatre
that the Preventors needed his help to stop dangerous terrorists, we ran into
Maja on the way out. She had pulled
Trowa aside and asked if her 'daddy' would be in danger. Trowa responded honestly and Maja asked if
he would marry Silvia and take care of them, should Quatre get killed. I had wondered, for a moment, if the girl
was unusually morbid. But then I was
surprised by Trowa's quick response: "Should anything happen to your parents,
Maja, it's my duty to take care of you. I would gladly marry your mother and take care of you both forever, if
that's what she wanted."
Is he in love with Silvia? It seems crazy to wonder—I mean, since
everyone says he's gay. But how else
can this be explained? He probably
saved Quatre's life for Silvia as much as for himself—who wants to see the pain
of the one he loves?
I set the report down and look at
the phone; maybe I should call Sally.
October 23rd—Duo
Maxwell—12:19 p.m.
I hate hospitals. They smell so . . . sterile. And harsh. But I have to be here. Trowa was
moved out of I.C.U. today, and I've got to talk to him.
Hilde squeezes my hand. I haven't told her anything, bit she seems
to know that something big is on my mind. She skipped work to be here with me. Thank God the kids are in school. I don't think I could handle watching two hyperactive seven-year-old pranksters
right now.
"Hilde," I began, squeezing her hand
gently in return, "I need to tell you something."
She arches her eyebrow inquisitively
at me. "Hmm?"
"I-well, you see . . . it's my fault
that Trowa and Quatre are here."
She snaps her hand away. "Duo? What are you talking about? You
didn't turn on them like a traitor, did you?"
Hell, I'd forgotten what she could
be like. "No! I mean that I fucked up. I failed my end of the mission!"
Her expression softens. "How?"
I drop my head in my hands. "There was a guy I was supposed to shoot—I
was covering Quatre. But just as I was
about to pull the trigger, I wondered if he was like me: somebody's husband,
somebody's father. I didn't want to be
the one who caused a kid to grow up without a dad. I wondered what it'd be like if it was reversed—if I was killed
leaving you with the twins."
"Oh, Duo," she breathes. "This is why fathers and husbands aren't in
the Preventor Operations any more."
I nod. I hadn't truly understood it until now.
"I couldn't kill him—I freaked. But once I saw him shoot at Quatre I
snapped. I'd given him his life, but
only so he could disregard everything that Quatre is. After that I killed him—and all the bastards that followed. But Trowa got himself shot, and Quatre ended
up hurt, too, because of me."
I sigh, sitting up and facing Hilde
again. "I think the worst thing,
though, was that I was the one who left Quatre in danger. Trowa was the guy who acted like a real
friend, and put his own life on the line for him."
Hilde gently pulls me closer, giving
me a tender kiss. "You're going to have
to accept the things that change during your life, honey, and not wish that you
could go back and change it all."
She's right—but that doesn't keep me
from being wrong.
I've learned one thing, though. I don't want to be a Preventor anymore.
October 23rd—Silvia
Noventa-Winner—5:17 p.m.
"Hey there." My voice is quiet—in that soft hospital
voice people use when they visit sick friends.
"Hey." Trowa sounds weak, but then again he just regained consciousness
this morning.
"I'd hoped Maja could come visit
you—but Sally had to pull strings to let her see Quatre. I couldn't ask for more."
Trowa smiles, but with a wince of
pain. "I wouldn't want her to see me
like this, anyway."
I sit down in the chair next to his
bed, taking his hand in mine. "She
misses you, and asks how you're doing more often than she asks about her own
father. In fact, just the other day,
her kindergarten teacher came to me suggesting that maybe Maja needed
counseling, since she insists that her family consists of her mother, her
father, and her Trowa."
He laughs slightly, following it
with shallow breaths. "That's
flattering, if not somewhat dysfunctional."
"You are part of our family,
Trowa," I tell him, squeezing his hand for emphasis. He saved Quatre's life—I owe him everything. "If it weren't for you, I—we—" I choke up,
tears constricting my throat.
His hand reaches upward, wiping a
tear away from my cheek. "I know." His voice is thick with pain. "I'd be lost without him, too."
I know this. I've known that he loves my husband for as
long as I've known him. And I can
accept it. It brings me closer to him
than Quatre is, in a way. Yet it hurts
me to think that Quatre loves him in a way he cannot love me; it hurts me to
know that Quatre so easily risked his life to get Trowa to safety.
It's unfair for me to feel this
way. But Quatre's my husband—the father
of my little girl. A selfish part of me
wants him to be all mine—I don't want anyone else to be as foolishly in love
with him as I was when we married. I
don't want anyone else to have felt as though their heart had been ripped out
when he was in danger.
And what makes it so hard is knowing
that Quatre could've fallen for him, had it not been for me.
"But I did it for you—not for
me." Trowa's words interrupt my
rambling thoughts. "I couldn't let
anything happen to him, knowing that you two would be hurt as well."
I lean forward, smoothing his hair
away from his face. "Thank you," I
whisper, kissing his cheek and his forehead. "From both me and Quatre."
He looks up at me, his eyes laced
with a tinge of sadness. "How is he?"
"Fine," I answer, hoping to quell
his concern. He needs to worry about
his own health first. "He tells me that
getting shot is worth it, as long as you're okay."
His eyes droop shut as a small smile
tugs at the corners of his mouth. "That's nice to know."