Disclaimer: I don't
own Gundam. I'm too broke paying for school to pay for the boys. sigh
AN: Sorry this is
coming out so slow! The plot's worked out but the actual writing is just taking
a while…
Walking the Dividing
Line
Part 2
I didn't even know what time it was.
I wasn't sure how long I had been in here, tied to this bed, but my best guess
was that it had been at least a day. There were no windows in this room, save
the plastic-covered portal in the door. It was dim in here – the only light
came from that window, spilling across the floor and not quite reaching my bed.
It was like a permanent state of twilight, without the setting sun.
Heero hadn't come back – no one had
come in since Trowa and Heero had left. I'd heard voices outside the door
intermittently; usually Trowa and Quatre, but once it had been Duo. His voice
had been soft, though, unlike I had ever heard it before. I wasn't sure what to
make of it, so I tried to ignore the cold feeling in my stomach that appeared
whenever I thought of Duo. It was just easier not to think about it.
"Alison? Are you awake?"
I opened my eyes as Quatre's soft
voice broke the silence in the room. I hadn't even heard him come in. Damn. I
must be really out of it.
"Hey. I brought you something to
eat," he said quietly, stealing a glance at the door. "Please don't tell them.
I'm not supposed to do this. But," he said, looking at me with those clear
green eyes, the irises reflecting and magnifying the dim light, "I trust you."
He reached over and untied my left
hand.
Finally.
I snapped my arm up as he loosened
the restraint, striking him in the chin and knocking him backwards. Before he'd
picked himself up off the floor I'd already untied my other hand and was
working on my feet. I pulled back on the bed as he approached the bed, a terrified
look in his eyes.
"… *Alison*?" he whispered fiercely,
shock evident in his tone.
I stole a glance at the ventilation
duct in the ceiling that I'd been staring at for the past couple of hours. I
knew I could open it from in here, but I had to deal with Quatre first. I
couldn't have him warning the other pilots right away – I needed time to get
out of here.
I flipped off the bed, over his head
and landed on my feet behind him. He spun to face, me, his terror etched on his
delicate features. He opened his mouth to say something, but before his voice
could escape I'd slammed an elbow down on his collarbone. He crumbled to the
floor without a sound, unconscious.
I smiled satisfactorily. But –
I blinked. His eyes. His eyes had
been so…
I shook my head and flipped onto the
bed, standing on the mattress and quickly prying the cover open. I pulled
myself up into the duct and yanked the cover up behind me, setting it back in
place.
I had to get through the system to
the outside. I hadn't studied this duct system at all, but I knew the basic
layout of the base and followed my instincts, crawling through the metal ducts
as silently as possible, all the time keeping my vision focused before me, my
thoughts focused on nothing but getting out of here.
If I stayed, my enemies were going
to kill me. It was as simple as that.
I reached the end of the duct and
peered through the metal grating. Between the slats I saw black velvet dotted
by points of light. The night sky. I'd made it out.
I quickly slid the cover off and
slipped out, replacing it behind me without a sound. I stood upright, my feet
sinking a bit into the desert sand, and looked up at the sky.
"I'm out," I whispered into the
chill night air. I was free – free of my enemies, free of this prison, I had to
get back to –
But… these weren't my enemies. These
were my *friends* -
I shook my head to clear it, took a
deep breath of fresh air. And I began running. I realized that I should have
thought to search Quatre for a gun, but a moment later I realized that he, of
all the pilots, was the most likely to not carry a gun all the time. The action
would most likely not have borne fruit, so I brushed the thought aside as I
continued on. There was a town nearby, a settlement full of Winner Family supporters.
They knew the pilots, but they didn't know me. I could probably stay the night
there before moving on; I didn't dare risk spending more than a day near here,
lest the pilots find me out. No, it would be too easy for them to find me here,
given any reasonable amount of time.
So I just wouldn't give them that.
My side ached and my head was pounding, but I kept going, aware that I had to
put as much distance between me and that base as quickly as possible.
I entered the small town and slowed
to a walk, sticking to side streets and keeping an eye out for anyone who might
want to apprehend me, take me back to the base. I came across no one, however,
and finally found a hotel that I could stay in for the night. The pilots had
apparently not taken my wallet when they'd bound me – lucky for me. I went up
to my room and unlocked the door, scanning the dark room from the doorway,
checking for anything out of the ordinary.
It seemed as if my senses were
heightened – I scanned the darkness, all the shadows seemingly clear even in
the pale light that flooded in from the hall. The room was silent, and nothing
moved. Good. Satisfied, I stepped through the doorway and flipped on the
lights, closing the door quickly behind me. I crossed the floor and pulled the shade
down on the window, effectively sealing myself away from the rest of the world.
I went into the small bathroom
adjoining the main room, flipping on the lights. I looked up at the mirror, and
was momentarily stopped by what I saw. Slightly matted curly hair fell
haphazardly around my face, marred on the left side by a bruise extending from
my upper cheek over my eye. My neck was bruised a bit as well, and from the way
my shoulder was aching I was sure it wasn't unmarked either. I'd better
determine the extent of my injuries, I reasoned, and pulled up my shirt just
enough to find that the entire right side of my torso all along my ribcage was
also marked by sickening-looking reddish blotches.
So there was probably some internal
bleeding. Not too bad, my mind ticked off, considering I could still move. I
would just have to avoid physical violence for the next week or so. If that was
possible. Although my best chance of that, I reasoned, was to get out of here
and avoid all contact with the pilots.
I could do that. I turned on the
water, washing my hands and face. I glanced back up at the mirror, caught a
flash of my green eyes –
Green eyes. Quatre's eyes, staring
at me in the darkness, so wrought with pain and betrayal and confusion that I
couldn't stand it –
Trowa's eyes, carefully calculating
and calm, telling me to watch my step as he looked at me silently from beneath
his bangs.
Dark brown eyes. Wufei's eyes,
staring me down with nothing but hatred, gaze flaring at me as he whirled
around for another kick –
Blue eyes. Heero's blue eyes, cold
as ice – colder than that – staring at me, catching the light and killing me
with their intensity alone.
Duo's eyes –
I grabbed the edge of the sink for
support. What was going on? What was I doing – what was I doing *here*?
The pilots. The pilots were my
enemies, I had to get away, they had done this to me, it was my objective to –
To what? What objective? The pilots
were my *friends*, they were my allies, I had been tricked by OZ –
OZ.
But OZ had held me captive, nearly
killed Duo and tortured him God knew how while I had been sent back, desperate
to find him while Heero –
Heero had tried to kill me. Those
who tried to kill me were my enemies. I could've sworn I'd even heard him say
something to that effect himself, on numerous occasions.
The pilots had tried to kill me. The
pilots were my enemies.
I tore my gaze away from the mirror
and opened the drawer beneath the sink. There was a pack of complementary razor
blades there – I pulled one out and left the bathroom, yanking out my wallet as
I did so. I ripped out any ID cards I found, throwing the wallet down and
sitting on the bed, unwrapping the razor blade.
I wasn't her anymore. I scraped the
blade over the ID pictures, scratched out the name that appeared beneath them.
There was no Alison. She didn't exist anymore, because I didn't know who I was.
I wasn't her, and I wasn't anybody.
I wasn't anybody anymore. I was an instrument. That was all.
I tossed the ruined cards down,
hearing them flutter to the ground and strike the carpet one at a time. I
considered the razor blade a moment, its smooth surface glinting brightly even
in the dirty lamplight, its edge good as new even after scratching her face out
of existence.
I pulled my knees up to my chest,
and fixed my gaze on the locked door.
I missed Duo.
