By West Wind
Someone asked me what happened to Heero in the ~ year between him leaving at the end of Endless Waltz and his reappearance in my story of Trap Backlash. I honestly hand no clue. I just brought him back as mysteriously as he left. I thought I would write a story about what happened to Heero in the time he was away.
This is my first story from one persons perspective. I am use to writing a more narrative style that provides various points of view. I have really tried to stay in present tents but often caught myself slipping to past. So please forgive any slipups I might have missed correcting.
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or any of its characters that are
used in this story.
~~--~~
Here I am standing at her door late at night. I know she is home. I have been watching her for the past few days. I pause before ringing the bell and ask myself questions that I already know the answers to.
"What am I doing here?"
I know this is what I should do, no, have to do. There is something that only she can help me with. I'm glad I did not kill her when I had the chances. She carries a strength that equals any of the Gundam pilots, yet she has held on to her humanity and hope in people through all the horrible things the war and people have thrown at her. I admire that in her. At times I wonder what I would have been like with a normal childhood. There is no changing that. We all have to live with our pasts and for the last few months or so I have been trying to come to terms with mine…
A little over year ago in a balcony in a room filled with important people….
"She is doing it," I think. "She is amazingly once again the uniting force behind the people. An icon for them to look to."
I listen as she gives her speech. The world needs her to help guide them on their path to peace and it no longer needs Gundam pilots.
"I only hope it lasts this time."
The others had destroyed their Gundams and returned to their loved ones, except Wufie who had no family left. He joined the Preventers. Even though I have no family that I know of, I am not ready to follow the path Wufie has chosen. I take one last look at the dark blond and walk away from my vantage point in the balcony. It is time for a new beginning for all, and I plan on vanishing into the darkness of memory.
I have already created a new identity for myself. It was not hard to do. I did it every time I moved to a new school. I rent an apartment and start job hunting. I really wanted to find a job that no one would ever expect me, an ex-Gundam pilot, to be doing. While I search for my new "carrier," I use the talents I already have and do some free lance computer work for the first month or so to help pay the bills.
One job turned out to be for one of Quatre's companies. I always find great amusement in that. I know the others have made discrert inquires about me after my disappearance, and there I was sitting under one of their noses.
Living on my own for the first time without having to move constantly is a big change. I find it nice yet disturbing. All of my soldier training did not prepare me well for the real world. I can take care of myself, yes, but things like my cooking and laundering skills could use some improvement. They are passable but could be better. To remedy one of the problem, I sign up for a cooking class and find I enjoyed it. I know this sounds odd, but something about cooking reminded me of when I was in a battle. There is order and yet chaos to it. It takes skill and practice to make it all come out right. When preparing an entire meal it takes precise timing and balance of activities to make everything come out right at the same time. Each dish is different and has to be approached differently. It is me against the food and time.
Like I do with anything that interests me [which is not much, computers and piloting], I through myself into cooking. I learn all I can. I check out various web sites and start watching cooking shows to lean new techniques and styles. I check out books from the library, and I am soon far beyond what I am learning in class so I drop it. I made the cheerful teacher nervous. I think it is because I never smile or talk unless asked a direct question. Even then I answer with the minimum amount of words possible.
I am almost through my second month when I decide to make my new hobby my new carrier. Who would expect the pilot of Wing Zero, the defender of the world, to be a cook or chief at a restaurant. I check at various restaurants in town and find one of the more upscale places is looking for an assistant chief. I interviewed with the owner, which was a new experience for me. I had never had to interview for anything in my life. Piloting a Gundam did not require a normal interview. I was just selected and trained. No questions asked, like what are your qualifications for the job or any previous experience. I answered each question the best I can and give him my mocked up education and job history. Nothing to big or fancy but enough to show that I was capable of doing the job.
The owner sets down across the table from me and after looking over the résumé, starts asking questions. He starts with my past work history and works his way to questions about cooking techniques. I answer each question precisely and accurately. I can tell the man is having a hard time reading me. I am sure some of the questions he asked were to try to learn more about me and my personality, but I find it hard to give out such information so easily. He finally takes me back to the kitchen to meet the head chief, who is preparing for the upcoming evening meals.
"THIS, this, is not what I told you I wanted," the man yells at his underling as we enter. "HOW can I WORK with such incompetents!"
"Mr. Williams," said the owner after clearing his throat to get the irate man's attention.
The chief turned his attention to us and grunted his acknowledgment of our presence. His eyes blaze with his current berating of the other employees.
"This is Mr. West. He is interviewing for the assistant chief," the owner informed Williams.
Mr. Williams gives me a crisp nod after looking me over. I return the gesture.
"He can't be any worst the other imbeciles around me," he growls in a way that reminds me of Wufei. "Can you start tonight?" he asks.
"Yes," I reply calmly and unemotionally.
"Then go get an apron and hat from the back room and I will show you where things are when you return."
"What about the paperwork?" asks the owner.
"If he makes it through the night, he can fill paper work out tomorrow," Williams states and shoos me off to the back room.
I find the things easily enough and put them on before returning. Williams gives me a brief tour of the kitchen and where things are.
"Let's see if you can do a better job than Jones over here," Williams sighs grouchily. "Jones, go work on the salads. You should be competent for that."
Jones shoots me a look of disdain. I returnee it with one of my glares which Jones quickly crumples under and can't get away fast enough. Williams lets out a deep chuckle and places an arm over my shoulders.
"I think I am going to like you, boy. As long as you handle food, as well as, you handled Jones."
He continues to instruct me in what he wants prepared, and I start to work. I make it through the first night with flying colors, and I get the job. The restaurant had been through several assistant chiefs in the past few months before I came a long. The reason was Williams. He was a perfectionist when it came to the dishes he served. He wanted them right even if he was the only one to notice the difference. His demand of precision and accuracy drove most of the employees bonkers, yet was what made this restaurant one of the best in the city. [That is why the owner let Williams behave the way he did.] Out of all of the employees, I am the only one that can meet his demands every time. It goes back to my training ~ it must be perfect to succeed.
The restaurant closed hours ago and I am finishing up cleaning the kitchen and getting things ready for tomorrow. I have been working for a couple of months now and have slipped into a comfortable routine. I wake up, take care of any business in the mornings, go to work, return home.
Williams enters the kitchen.
"Good your about done," he says in his deep voice. "Come have a cup of coffee with me."
It was more of an order than a request and I knew it. I finish up what I am doing and take a seat across from him. I am curious as to why he would want this meeting. He pushes a cup of coffee to me and tops off his own from the pot setting on the table. He pulls out a flask and pours a bit of its contents, which gives off an alcohol smell, into his cup. He offers the flask to me, and I shake my head.
"Never touch the stuff," I say.
"Good thing," he replies. "It's not healthy."
I quirk an eyebrow but don't ask the obvious question of why dose he drink it then.
We sit in silence for some time, both nursing our beverages.
"You never worked for any of those places on your resume," he said mater-of-factly as he looks me in the eye.
I sit there looking back not letting the surprise his statement causes to show on my face. He laughs.
"I try to know about my competition both here and across the country, as well as, who works for them. One of them a good friend works at and has never hear of you," he continues and takes a sip of his drink.
I fear my cover is blown, and I really like working here. I start calculating what my best course of action is when my thoughts are interrupted.
"Don't worry, boy," he comments with a chuckle. "I won't give you secret away. You're the best assistant I have ever had and don't give a care if you never worked in a restaurant before. Your good at what you do and follow instructions to the letter."
"Then why bring it up?" I ask as a cross my arms over my chest and lean back into the chair.
"Just an old man's curiosity. Wanted to verify my suspicions."
After that night we often sit and share cups of coffee after work. Most of the time we do not say much. We sit comfortably in the silence between us as we unwind from the busy evening. Through those time, Williams tells me much of his life. He also has an uncanny knack, almost six sence like, in ferreting out information about myself. He deduced I had been military trained and had participated in the war. My rigid training that served me so well in the pervious years had given me away to my boss.
"Only someone who has been through it would know what to look for," he explains. "You have all the earmarks and discipline of a worrier. I have seen enough of them, I should know."
Williams had started out as a cook for an army, and had seen all kinds of soldiers, pilots, and worriers. He had seen it all, from the foolhardy ones that get themselves quickly killed, to the loudmouth arrogant hotshots, to the very rare, highly trained worriers that keep to themselves. He knew an ex-soldier when he met one. He never pries for details of what I had done or on which side I fought. He understands that was something to never be talked about, taboo. It was the past and something I am trying to forget.
A year has passed since Marimeia's attack on earth, and I find my thoughts drifting back to that day, that battle, my conversations with Wufei, the destruction of Marimeia's lair, Wing Zero falling apart, the little red-headed girl passing out in Relena's arms as I hold a gun pointed at her. I relive each moment in my mind as vividly as if it was happening now. The memories haunt my dreams, and I wake in the middle of the night unable to go back to sleep. So, I go for long walks in the park when I wake and try to think of something else. It helps for a bit, but they always return to haunt me like the little girl and the dog. I wonder why they are tormenting me now when my demons have been quiet for so long. The past year has been good. Admittedly I have not made many friends or socialize much, but that is just me. I work, eat, and sleep [not much lately]. What else is there to life? I have one friend in Williams, but I rarely talk about personal stuff and never about my past. All my other co-workers avoid unnecessary contact with me. It is like I frighten them or something. I would probably frighten me too if I was a normal person.
Time moves on and I try to squelch my mental tormenters, yet just when I think they are gone, they return to taught me of my inability to defeat them. I am determined not to let them control or torment me. I press on and follow my daily routine trying to put the war and the destruction I caused out of my mind. I know it all served a purpose. It brought peace. A peace that Relena was helping to sustain. She was the worrier the world needed in this time of peace. A since of accomplishment fills me when I think of that ~ Peace. No more wars, no more fighting, no more innocent lives lost. We, the Gundam pilots, played a large roll in obtaining it. I keep reminding myself it was the right thing to do, however, there seems to be no peace for one of those who brought it to everyone else.
I sit down for our after work cup of coffee with Williams.
"James, my boy, you have been distracted for the past few months," points out William.
"Sorry," I mumble. "I will try to focus more on my work."
"You have to deal with what is eating at you. It has to do something to do with the war, doesn't it."
Once again he hits the nail on the head. If I did not trust him, I would stay away from him. He is right too much of the time when he guesses at my past. I nod my head.
"The past is haunting me," I state. "The more I push it away, the stronger it returns."
"It's natural," he says. "What you need to do is see a professional."
I tense at the suggestion. There is no way I would tell a stranger what makes me tick. It goes against all my training. It was impossible. Williams noted my response and grunted.
"To much against your training to confide in a stranger, huh? Well, it was only an observation on what you should do, not what you have to do. Maybe more to you liking ~ Seek out a friend, a comrade, someone who will understand and help you through it."
"I'll think about it," I respond as I grab my jacket and head out the door.
I could find one of the other pilots. Even though I consider them friends, that idea does not appeal to me either. Could any of them help me, or are they still fighting their own demons from the war. I just don't know what to do. I have to get a handle on this, and as much as I hate to admit it … Williams is right, I can't do it on my own. I have been trying for the past three months. I need help to live a normal life.
The next night I inform Williams that I want to use my vacation time I have earned.
"Going to find yourself?" he states after giving me permission to take the time.
"Something like that," I respond.
I pack up and travel to see Duo first. He greets me with a large hug and a thump on the back. His business is going well, and he and Hilde are planning on getting married.
"You seem to have made the transition to civilian life fairly well," I comment, but Duo always was one of the more normal of us next to Quatre.
One of the most serious looks I have ever seen on Duo made its appearance on his face.
"For the most part," he said, "but there are still times the nightmares come and Hilde holds me till they pass. They are less frequent as time goes by," he adds as his normal smile returns to his face. "How about you?"
I grunt a reply. I can't bring myself to open up to Duo. Why should I burden him with my problems. My visit to the other pilots end in much the same way. I can't bring myself to tell them, to share my problems with them even though they would understand. The last one I visit is Wufei. He has found a home with the Preventers and is still using his fighting skills in serving them. I wonder if it would make a difference if I was still actively fighting. Probably not. As I prepare to leave Preventer HQ, I see Relena walk through the lobby on her way out. My eyes follow her graceful movements across the lobby and out the door. Before I know it, I am following her. For some reason I feel drawn to her. I don't know why. I briefly wonder if she can help me. She has never killed anyone, how can she understand? But she has known death and loss I remind myself. I spend the night in my rented car outside her house asking myself questions I can't answer.
I spend the next couple days following her, watching from a distance. She is as resilient and determined as ever. I once again found myself in a balcony, the same one in fact, and listening to her give a speech. Her strength and love showing through her encouraging words. I deiced I have to see her. I don't know what I will say to her but that is what my emotions are telling me to do.
I ring the bell and wait for an answer. I hear movement from inside the house and the bolts unlocked. The door opened and there stands Relena.
"Hello, Heero," she says as if me showing up on her doorstep late in the evening was normal.
"Relena," I reply with no emotion in my voice.
"Come in," she says moving aside to let me enter.
We sit down in the room my arrival had obviously pulled her from. I sit down across from her as she settles back into her previously vacated spot.
"Can I get you anything to eat or drink?" Relena asks.
"I'm fine."
After that we are both lost in thought. Memories float through my head. They are bearable this time. For some reason her presence reminds me what I was fighting for and that it was worth it. She tells me she is going to bed and invites me to stay. She tells me which room is the guest room. It was the most restful night sleep I had had in a while. I wake early and head downstairs and work on my computer in the kitchen.
"Morning," Relena greets me as she enters the room.
I mutter a response.
"Would you like some breakfast?"
I look up from my typing and ask, "What are you having?"
"I was planning on oatmeal, but there is cereal, or I could make you eggs, pancakes, or frenchtoast. But, there is no way I am making waffles. Every time I try, they turn out burnt or falling apart."
"Oatmeal is fine with me," I say and look back at the computer.
Relena busies herself with making breakfast and soon has everything on the table. I put away my computer when Relena put the bowl of oatmeal beside me.
"Do you always cook breakfast, I thought you had a cook?" I inquire.
"Kristal only works through the week, and I cook for myself on weekends. I rather enjoy it."
We finish eating, and Relena gathers up the dishes and washes them.
"You haven't asked me why I am here," I note.
"You're right. I have not."
"Why?" I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.
Surly if some one you had not seen in a while suddenly shows up on you doorstep in the middle of the night, you would have questions as to why he/she was there.
"I am sure you have your reasons for being here, and if I need to know you will tell me when you are ready. What ever your reason, I am glad you are here."
"Thanks," I mutter as a warmth spreads through me at her admission of being glad I was here.
The more time I spent with Relena, the better I feel. She knows something is troubling me and she is patient enough to wait for me to be ready to tell her in my own time and way. When I finally start to confide in her, she has this way of understanding what I am trying to say even when I can't find the words to express it. I find that talking with Relena is therapeutic. We spend the rest of my vacation talking late into the nights. I tell her my problems and she tells me hers. She is a good listener and only offers her advice when she dreams appropriate. Whatever bond we had formed in the previous years seems to have deepened in the time I spent with her. She is like the sister I never had.
I return to the restaurant. The dreams stopped, but now I am plagued with a restlessness that would not go away. I finally decide to follow Wufei's path and join the Preventers. I gave Williams my notice.
"I thought you might," he says when I tell him. "I will miss ya, but you have to do what you have to do. Be sure to drop me a line and visit occasionally so I know your alive."
I tell him I will and pack up what I would need for my trip to Preventer HQ. I visit Lady Une. She welcomes me into the organization immediately. She even already had an assignment for me starting next week. I stop at Relena's again to tell her that I have become a Preventer agent. She is glad for me and insists that I stay at her place again until I have to leave on my mission. She reiterates the offer of her house for me to stay in any time I want and for as long as I want. I am grateful to her even though I know it does not show.
Being back in action was what I needed. Infiltrating bases and hacking computer systems were things I was good at and helped rid me of my restlessness. I once again felt like I had a useful purpose other than making the hungry masses their dinner. I was working to maintain the peace in the land.
The End
~~--~~
Well, that's it. I decided to make Heero's new carrier cooking to explain
my reference in Marrimeia's Crush that he was a good cook.
As always let me know what you think.
