Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, or any of its characters or machines, etc. Please send comments.
Genesis Gundam
Chapter One
"Mind telling me what the hell that was?" Dorothy demanded. Quatre shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.
"I wish I knew," he sighed. "It felt like…like I was inside your head. I got all these feelings and memories. There was more, but I didn't get to see it."
"Good," she muttered. "The last thing I want is you knowing my life."
"I don't think you have any control over it," Quatre said quietly, looking down at the table. "Otherwise I wouldn't have seen anything." He glanced up to make sure she was paying attention. "Dorothy, did you see anything?" She was quiet; he thought she hadn't heard, or was ignoring him, or was too shocked by what happened to remember anything.
But she did remember. Everything.
She had seen Quatre's life at the start of his memory, when he was four. His father had been there, and many of his sisters. Though he loved them, she had sensed a disconnection. As if the only boy in the family, doted on by all of his relatives, did not fit in. That feeling was constant throughout the memories she had received. While he remained polite and giving, there was also a need. Like he felt acting such a way would bring someone to him. Someone who would get rid of the lonely feeling. Someone who would make him complete.
Flashes of the war, of the other boys, had also been shown to her. They had provided some comfort to Quatre, but the feeling of being separate did not go away.
Then there were memories of her. Seeing her during his time in the Sanq kingdom, how they had known of one another's influence during the battle of the mobile dolls, finding her while onboard the Libra. His emotions in her presence were confused; he was drawn to her, but at the same time eager to keep away from her.
They had been pulled apart at that point, and she was glad for that. Wasn't she?
"Dorothy?" the Arabian was saying. "Are you awake?" She shook it off, and looked at Quatre.
"I'm fine. What were you saying?"
"I was asking if you saw anything."
"Oh. Yes, I did."
"All I can come up with is that we have some sort of connection, and it only happened after we touched."
"Liar," she interrupted. "It happened before, too. And you know it. I saw your thoughts. It's just gotten stronger now that we've touched."
"…Well I've seen your thoughts too. It was happening before. But why?"
'How the hell should I know?' she thought irritably.
"I wasn't saying you knew. I was asking myself more than you," Quatre said, a little defensive. Dorothy blinked rapidly at him.
"Wh-what?"
"…Did you just say what I heard, or think it?"
"I know I didn't say it," she said.
"…Then the connection is also a mental one, as well as physical. And when we come into contact with one another, it's amplified greatly."
"This is too strange. I'm leaving." She stood from her seat, and rushed out of the kitchen and to the door. Quatre stood as quickly as he could, and hobbled after her, ignoring the pain. By the time he reached the door, she was curled into a protective ball in front of it, eyes squeezed shut and fighting off tears.
"Dorothy," he panted, leaning against the wall.
"Don't move," she pleaded. "Just…don't move. It hurts too much." Quatre couldn't stand up to the overflow of emotion that was hitting him from Dorothy. He gulped as he felt her confusion, anger, and fear.
"Dorothy," he started again. "I don't think you should leave. If I should get hurt, you'll feel it. And it might not be in front of a door. It could be behind the wheel of a car, or worse." She looked up at him, her teeth bared.
"Don't you dare give me sympathy," she snarled. "I don't need another thing from you. He edged closer.
"All I'm saying is, if we want to figure this out, I think we need to work together. We are both involved in it, ne?" Carefully, he bent down to place a hand on her shoulder. She jumped to her feet and leapt away from him before he had the chance.
"Don't touch me," she warned. He nodded slowly.
"Granted. I know it's frightening."
"I'm not frightened!" she argued.
"You are," he told her. "I can feel it. And I am too. I'm sure you can feel that." She could, but she didn't admit to it. "Please, don't leave. Not until we find out what's going on." Dorothy fretted, crossed her arms nervously; she didn't want to spend another second in this house, not with him. She wished she'd never come here.
But she had. And Quatre had a point. If this were to happen at the wrong moment, then she could be severely hurt, or worse, killed. And then what would happen to him? This was all too much. At least here she knew she would be safe, and they would have time to think.
'You're making the right decision.' She froze, listening to Quatre's voice, though his lips were not moving. She glared at him.
"Sorry," he apologized. "I couldn't help but hear."
"Well, you know what I'm going to say. So long as you don't touch me, I'll stay."
"Good," he sighed. They started up the stairs, where he would show her a room to stay in.
"And take it easy. I don't enjoy falling to the ground every time you push yourself too far."
"Aa," Quatre smiled. "Gomen ne." She let him apologize this time. She thought she at least deserved that.
***
It had to be around 4:00 in the morning. Dorothy tossed and turned in her bed, but could not fall asleep. Quatre was also awake; she knew this because she could hear his thoughts. It was driving her crazy. He was so afraid, so unsure. He was trying to think of explanations for the link between them, was trying to make sense of the parts of Dorothy he had seen, and how to go about talking to her in the morning.
'Do you mind?' she thought angrily. All of Quatre's thoughts stopped.
'What am I doing?'
'Thinking! I can hear everything! Stop it!'
'Dorothy, you know I can't stop thinking. I've been feeling your irritation and I'm sorry. But this really has me worked up.'
'Then at least think about something else!' Dorothy snapped at him. Something stirred in her stomach; she knew he was sorry, and it was hurting him to have inconvenienced her so. Why did he have to be so emotional? She wished this had happened with her and someone else, like Heero Yuy. At least then she would have some quiet.
'Sorry,' Quatre responded mentally. She felt the poker in her insides again, and yelped.
'Tell me you didn't just roll on your side!'
'It hurt me too. I wasn't thinking when I did it. It's a habit.'
'Honestly, if I didn't think it would hurt me, I would kill you.' She rolled into a ball under her covers.
'I'll try to be quiet now. Goodnight.'
"There's nothing good about it," Dorothy muttered. Quatre held to his word, and was quiet long enough to allow her to fall asleep.
***
"There has to be a way to control this thing," Dorothy said groggily the next morning. "I can't seem to get away from your thoughts."
"Well, I don't hear everything you think. I only feel it when your emotions are particularly strong," Quatre mentioned. She shot him a look.
"Then there has to be a way to control you," she corrected. He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off. "Don't you dare say it."
"Okay I won't. Why don't you tell me how you keep yourself in check?"
"There's nothing to tell," she responded. "I just don't want to share my heart with the world. So I don't. But you, on the other hand, have this totally open attitude. Typical heart-on-your-sleeve type. It's no small wonder I hear everything." Quatre bit his lip, but kept from apologizing out loud. He did so mentally, and she growled a curse.
"Oh, right," he remembered. "You can hear me."
"Loud and clear," she groaned. "Try this. You don't want me to know. Try thinking something, but not making it obvious that you're thinking."
"…I don't understand." Dorothy made a small frustrated sound and closed her eyes.
'Like this, you-' He did not hear the rest of what she had been thinking. She opened her eyes again.
"Did you get all of that?" she asked.
"No," he said.
"Good. I didn't want you to hear the last part. Or maybe I did, but I wanted to see if I could stop myself. You're going to need some practice at it."
"Sou," he agreed. "Ne, do you think we can control the touch thing that way too?" She considered the question.
"Not a bad idea," Dorothy grudged. He reached for her hand; she jerked it away. "Not yet, though. I said I don't want you touching me."
"Sorry." As soon as he said it, he reprimanded himself mentally. 'Baka, she just told you to stop apologizing.'
'Control,' Dorothy told him.
'Oh! Sorry!…Oh!' She sighed, exasperated.
"This is going to take some work."
***
Duo Maxwell adjusted his sunglasses as he waited impatiently in the car outside of the last OZ base. He loved being the driver in a getaway vehicle, but it was the waiting that killed him. And when working with someone as meticulous as Heero Yuy, one could always expect a long wait.
"C'mon, Heero," Duo grumbled, drumming his fingers anxiously on the steering wheel. They had taken on the task of attempting to wipe out the last remnants of OZ since the battle in space. Although the leader, Treize Khushrenada, was dead, that did not stop the organization from trying to thrive. This time they were working without the Gundams; it was less conspicuous and, in his opinion, more fun.
The American boy turned at the sound of gunshots. He saw Heero running in his direction, bullets flying after him. Heero clawed his way up the chain-link fence and pushed over the barbed wire. He landed on the other side of the fence, and dashed for the car. Duo gunned the engines, and sped towards his partner. They met halfway, with Heero jumping into the passenger seat of the Jeep. As soon as the other boy was seated, Duo took off like a shot.
"How'd they spot you, Perfect Soldier?" he shouted above the roar of the engines. Heero did not reply, but reached under his seat for a high powered semi-automatic rifle. Duo kept one hand on the wheel, and grabbed an Uzi from under his own seat. He glanced into the rear-view mirror, and noticed eight other Jeeps pursuing them.
"Here they come," Heero muttered. He pressed the button on the detonation device, and the base behind them lit up, then exploded. Two of the Jeeps stopped, turned around and headed back to the base. The other six continued the chase, firing on the boys. They ducked down, Duo keeping his foot on the pedal and steering blindly. They waited for the firing to lighten up, which meant the men were reloading.
"Set?" Duo asked.
"Hn." Heero undid his seatbelt, and turned around to face the Jeeps behind them. Duo leaned out of the window on his side. Both pilots fired their weapons. Heero managed to hit both the driver and front passenger in the first car, while Duo blew out both the front tires. The car swerved out of control and knocked into the Jeep behind it. Both cars rolled to the side and came to a stop.
"Score!" the braided boy cheered. Bullets shot through the glass of the windshield, making him and Heero duck again. The Japanese boy growled a curse, then got back up amidst the bullets. "Hey, are you crazy?! Get back down!" Heero ignored the other boy and returned fire. The windshield shattered, sending glass flying into his back. Heero grunted, readjusted his sight, then continued to shoot. His bullets littered the hoods of two cars, as well as their windshields and grills. A bullet pierced his shoulder.
"Reload," he ordered, sliding his gun down to Duo. The American tossed Heero the Uzi, and with his free hand changed the clip of the semi-automatic.
"The airport isn't too far from here now," Duo called. His side mirror was shot, and shattered. He felt a sting on his left cheek. "Goddammit! Heero, give me the Uzi and brace yourself!" The boys switched weapons, and Duo slammed on the brakes. He made a sharp turn, so the car spun 180 degrees. He put the gears in reverse, and started to drive backwards. "Easier shooting, ne?" he grinned as he and Heero fired straight ahead now. The lack of a windshield made this task much easier. Another Jeep went careening out of sight.
"The airport gates are right behind us," Heero reported.
"Then get the plane ready!" Heero nodded, and pulled out a remote. Across the airfield, a small commercial flier's engines started up. Duo backed through the gates of the airport at full speed. He reloaded his gun, then glanced over his shoulder. "What runway are we on again?"
"15-A." Bullets flew over their heads.
"I don't think those guys are gonna give us a chance to stop and board peacefully. Any ideas?" Heero nodded, and pointed to the runway that the plane was on. Shrugging, Duo headed for it, still driving backwards and returning fire. The plane taxied down the runway, and started to take off.
"Get as close to the side door as you can," the Japanese boy commanded. Duo gave him an incredulous look.
"Tell me you're not suggesting that we leap onto a moving plane from a speeding car going backwards!"
"Do you have a better idea?" Heero asked. Duo gritted his teeth, and pulled up next to the plane, which was already a few feet off the ground. Heero pressed a few buttons and the cabin door on the plane opened. He fired a few more rounds, then undid his seatbelt.
"Hey! What am I supposed to do?! I'm the one driving!" Duo shouted as Heero prepared to jump.
"Your problem," he shrugged as he leapt from the Jeep to the plane.
"Son of a bitch!" Duo howled, undoing his seatbelt. He hit the brakes again and turned the car back around, then pulled up again so that he was next to the door on the plane. A Jeep pulled up on his passenger side. Cursing, Duo ducked down as bullets pierced the side of the car and plane alike. The American set the car on cruise control, and lifted his foot from the pedal. The soldiers were shooting from front to back. Wait a second…what side of the car was the gas tank on?
Not wanting to wait to find out, Duo scrambled out of his seat and pushed off from the car. He caught on to the edge of the door, just as the plane increased altitude. Below him, the Jeep he and Heero had been driving exploded, catching the soldiers' Jeep in its flames.
"Huh. Guess it was the passenger side," he mused as he pulled himself the rest of the way inside and shut the door. "Thanks a million for waiting to help me in," he called to Heero. There were shards of bloody glass all over the floor. Speaking of glass…
Duo touched his cheek and found a laceration. There was something sticking out of it; he got a good grip on it despite the blood, pulled out the piece of glass from his face, and dropped it on the floor with the others. He walked to the cockpit, where Heero was sitting in the pilot's seat. The plane was on autopilot, and the Japanese boy was busy bandaging his arm.
"Well, some run huh?" Duo said, plopping into the other seat. "Man, I'll be kinda sad when this is over. With all this excitement, I don't think getting a jolt from coffee is gonna cut it." Heero finished with his arm, glanced up at Duo, and then grabbed the controls of the plane. "Man, being your partner in crime sucks!" Duo groaned.
"We'll hit the next one in a little while," he told the American.
"Yeah, yeah." Duo rolled his eyes and got back up. "Where's the gauze?"
***
The sounds, the smells. Trowa sighed, and hefted his bags in his arms. It was good to be home.
Catherine came into view; she spotted him, and started to run in his direction. She slowed when she came within a few feet of him.
"Hey stranger!" she smiled. "Looking for someone?"
"My sister," he said. "Has anyone seen her?"
"Well, if you stay awhile, I might be able to help you find her." She reached out and took a bag from him, then slipped her arm through his. "Good to have you back, Trowa. Is everything done with?"
"Yeah," he said as they began to walk back to the tent together.
"Good! Then maybe you won't mind staying for more than a month this time!" He gave her a penitent look.
"I'll try."
"I'm glad. It gets awfully quiet when you're not around." Trowa blinked, stared at her. "You know what I mean," she laughed.
"Aa," he said, understanding.
"Well, we'd better get a move on. You're back just in time for the 6:30 show!" They entered the tent, and Trowa was greeted by the smiles and waves of the other circus folk.