For the little handful of people that wanted more, here ya go ^___^
Sorta short, and I'm sorry about that, but I'm working on it :P




Already Tear-Stained


Part 3


***


Duo stared stiffly, jaw dropped wide open, as his fellow pilot's Gundam exploded in a blaze of
sparkling red and white.

Wing, 01, along with it's occupant, had been destroyed. Just what Oz wanted. The four other Gundams
on the batle field stood silently. Giant beasts of machinery -works of art and pure destruction, a
symbol of hope- each paying thei inhuman respects as if they could possibly feel anything over this
-or each expressing the emotions of their pilots within.

Each Gundam distanced themselves, moving away, having mostly found temporary acceptance in the cool,
shielding night. Rather quick some might think.

But what *should* they have done? Admit to watchful eyes that what little of a team they had had now
been weakened -if not demolished? Each had known the others for an estimated month, no close ties to
be had there. Especially with Heero, a strong believer in the uslessness of companionship.

Liabilities. That's what they were to Heero. Maybe even annoyances -well, maybe just Duo in that
field. And yet Trowa couldn't help but lift Heero's motionless body carefully into the hand of
HeaveyArms.

He strapped his Gundam down well enough, onto a flat bed truck -it was a wonder to any civilian that
they came in such a size, much less *how* exactly one would drive it- and left the scene. Shards of
01's once proud stature fading fast in the distance.


***


"So this is another Gundam pilot, eh?" Catherine muttered, looking down at the bodt she'd just
helped bandage up and stepped back to admire her work. "Are all you guys so cute?" she grinned and
ruffled Trowa's hair.

Trowa gave her as best a smile as he could at that momment and turned back to stare at Heero.

His placid features were so different now compaired to before. His eyes were peaceful, content,
although closed, and his mouth seemed to be on the verge of a smile that would never show. Its the
same with me, Trowa thought. I wonder if he's *ever* smiled.


***


Wufei slumped into a desk, in the back row near the window so he could observe the class better,
just as the last bell rang. Even so, he was still one of the first students in the class.

Slowly kids started filing in some with sheer enthusiasm in every step, but most with jaded
expressions on their faces. Apparent enough the majority didn't seem to be too happy being locked up
in stuffy, impersonal classrooms all day.

The teacher stepped in shortly after and headed to the front of the class where he took up a sheet
of paper and began calling out anmes.

"Sam,"

"Here."

"Mykai,"

"Here."

"Duo,"

"Here," Wufei said, with slight hestitation. It hadn't seemed right to use a different name, let
alone Duo's, but he didn't need any other stupid kids calling him 'Woofie' like they had at other
schools. The minute he'd shared that fact with Duo, he'd taken it upon himself to 'continue the
legacy' as he so generously put it. And so far, Duo had kept his word.

"Jun,"

"Present."

"Chang Wufei,"

Silence.

Wufei's eyes widened. Did someone have the same name as him? *His* fucking name?! He fumed, glaring
for all he was worth at each of his classmates.

Then a fmailiar person -with a long braid trailing behind- burst through the doorway.


***


Trowa continued staring at Heero even after Catherine had left, memorizing every curve and unique
characteristic to his appearance.

His lifeless-looking body seemed to enthrall Trowa, maybe because of an increasing admiration for
being strong.

Awake he was death itself. A cold piece of machinery capable of killing you with a butter knife
before you realized what was going on. Believer in his beliefs and never a faulter.

Asleep, unconcious, he was innoccent. Incapapble of life and inflicting pain. Yet still able to kill
you with that exact smae butter knife a thousand times ver, rusted with blood. No time for pain,
everything moved too fast.

But maybe Trowa was giving the boy too much credit. He was for being able to destroy himself for the
sake of others, but weak and foolish for believing his life was so cheap.

Hell. He hadn't even killed himself. He was still alive.

Trowa ran a calloused hand down and across Heero's left arm pausing for a moment at his hand. Should
I tell them you're still alive? Then he entwined their fingers, squeezing softly, a reassuring
gesture yet only to himself. He had a slight urge to keep Heero to himself for a while.

Heero's hand squeezed back.