Title: I Wonder What They're Doing Now
Warnings: Er..stuff =D *blinks* Find out for yourself ¬¬
Disclaimer: I do not own the pilots or anything related to Gundam Wing ¬¬ *mumbles about injustice* If Duos Pikachu plushie or Heeros cat Shinigami were to suddenly appear somewhere in this fic, that is mine ^^
In the opposite side of the large hospital, was the wing committed to physiotherapy. On the second floor, slightly down a narrow corridor, was a large white door. The single brass plate read in plain black lettering - "Dr. Wells". It shone and glistened every time the fluorescent streams of light hit if from the tubular bulbs lining the ceiling. It was deserted, for the time being. The only sounds were the occasional snort coming from behind the closed door.
Sitting at the cluttered desk in the far end of the room, was none other than Dr. Wells himself. For the moment, his head was resting on a pile of unsigned papers surrounded by bits and pieces of receipts and forms. A dull black coffee mug, emptied, was situated dangerously close to the table edge of the table.
A soft snore escaped the sleeping doctor. He shifted his slender hand slightly across the table, and the mug moved a centimeter further to the edge. Closer to it's doom. A soft cough later, and it moved a slight bit more…
…and came crashing down on the cold concrete floor.
"Eeeeee! Shinigami!" in a whirlwind of paper he shot up, and the chair backwards. With a loud 'thwap' his head impacted with the wall behind him, cushioned slightly by his hair.
The chaos of paper started settling slowly in various areas of the room, wafted everywhere by the overhead fan. Groaning and mumbling about suing…someone, Wells shoved himself up and surveying the mess spread out before him.
"Hai, of course, this has to happen to me." He muttered to himself and sloppily gathered the papers on his desk into an acceptable pile.
"Why didn't I become...say…a hairdresser? I can' do that, no problem!"
He bent down to retrieve what had fallen on the floor. Chestnut brown strands of hair, having come undone sometime during his sleep for their customary braid, spilled over his shoulders.
"Or a bank manager…or a waiter…"
He stooped down and picked stationary and forms from under his desk, cursing when he smashed his head against the wood. His hands grabbed the papers and flitted across to grab the pencils. He paused when his hand brushed against the hard smooth surface like that of a photograph. Brushing other things aside revealed the slightly yellowed surface of a crumpled photograph.
/=/Odd…I don't keep old photographs…/=/ the doctor thought to himself and ran his finger along the edge of the photo, lifting it up from the floor. It was true, he usually didn't keep photographs. He supposed it was because he never attached himself too much, incase it'd be taken away from him, and photographs just added to the burden.
He slipped out from under his desk and sat back up in his chair, placing the photograph upside down on his table while he hastily gathered the largest pieces of porcelain from the late coffee mug. Suddenly the computer screen clicked on, and there was a clear picture of a fellow doctor, Kay, smiling at him.
"Mornin' Dr. Wells" she said politely, but the grin on her face showed otherwise. Kay had been his co-worker, rather, for quite a while. Since Duo had joined the course on physiotherapy late, she'd help him out from time to time. She wasn't a close friend, a 'buddy' more like it, and a tomboy at that. Her short dark brown hair was slightly messed up, and her green eyes shone with a glow that could compete with Trowa.
"Mornin' Kay" the doctor replied, poking his tongue out. He looked a mess with his hair undone and sleep still prodding at his eyes.
"Just woke up I take it?" there was some shuffling of papers, and she took up a file from a drawer. Unlike Dr. Wells, Kay was organized, despite what she might have appeared to be.
"Me?" he put on an act of mock hurt, touching his hand to his chest femininely, "how dare you assume that of me!"
Kay rolled her eyes and gave him a glare, subduing her co-worker immediately. He WAS a doctor after all, and there was a limit to the amount of mockery and sarcasm he could use in a day. It wasn't like the old times, when he could use it even when slashing mobile suits in two and causing the earth to rock with the explosion.
"Not so much today." She said in a would-be secretary voice, adjusting imaginary glasses.
"I'm relieved to hear that, dear madam." He responded in an equally snobbish manner, tenting his fingers and trying his best to look important. But it was hard to look past his untidy appearance.
"You have Ms. Olsen coming in at 3pm for a checkup on her supposed arthritis…" Kay paused and took her time to shuffle through the papers, furrowing her brow,"…and then a meeting at 3:45, but I can take care of that if you want."
"Nothing to do now, huh?" he prodded an ant scurrying across the desk, which made him look even more like a child. He'd many-a-time been mistaken for a rowdy child patient during his earliest months at the hospital.
"Nope, 'fraid not. Take a break or something." She shrugged. A soft 'beep' was heard through the screen, and Dr. Wells looked up in time to see her obtain a small hand scribbled note from the machine.
"Hm?"
"Oooo…scary…someone's apparently tried to commit suicide and-"
"Suicide? What does that have to do with me?" he earned a glare from Kay, who brandished her finger at him.
"Silent, you. I'm not done yet!" her eyes skimmed over the note, trying to decipher the almost illegible writing.
"Ah…here we are. Slit wrists, lost a lot of blood, yaddayaddayadda…" she continued, "Paralyzed from the legs down, here's the part that concerns you. They want you to run a check-up on him, apparently he's stayed away from a hospital for…whoa…four years!"
"Eeee…long time…who sent it?" Wells asked, toying with his hair. Kay shrugged and squinted at the paper, "can't tell, too scribbly. Patients name is…er…Yey"
"Yey?"
"Yes, Yey…I THINK. First name…Hiro, or something. It's hard to read! I'll send it to you." She pushed a few buttons, and soon Dr. Well's own fax machine started buzzing.
"Oooooookey, thaaaaaank you." Kay grinned and closed the connection, off to attend to her first patient of the day.
As the fax machine worked on receiving the data, the doctor looked back at the photo on the desk.
"Hai…this thing…" he turned it over.
And was met by an image that widened his eyes considerably. The droning of the fax was cut off, and the faded colors were the only thing to occupy his mind.
"I remember this…" he ran a finger across the picture, in a daze. It showed all five of them. Quatre, Trowa, Wufei, Heero…and himself. Quatre and Wufei were on the ground, Quatre having two fingers behind Wufeis head. Trowa was beside Heero, who centered the photo. On his left, he saw himself, with his trademark braid. His arm was thrown around Heero, who looked as grumpy as he'd always been. Grim and serious as they come. A picture taken not long before his last mission with Heero. It pained him to think back to that mission, where his life had been saved at the expense of his companion. That was ages ago, and he'd done his best to forget it. He was afraid of facing Heero, who sacrificed himself for him, and fretted that the others might be in his company. To be frank, he'd stayed away from them all. Like was his saying, he'd run, he'd hide, but he'd never lie.
"That's right…I may run, and I may hide…but I never lie."
The fax machine finished its work, producing a copy of the note. A note…he'd left a note. A note? Yeah, it was pathetic, but what could he do? He'd practically ruined Heero's life by being negligent during the mission. He had the spine to kill for hours on end, but not face his friends. Pffft, some friend he was.
/=/ Yeah I feel guilty…I feel damn guilty…and I smile and get on with life, whoop-dee-doo. Why do I? Because I'm a cowardly little wimp…So much of a coward that I changed my name…Wells…pftz…pathetic…/=/
He looked down at the photo remorsefully and turned it over. He was still running, still hiding. Life moved on…in a manner of speaking. Ok, so it didn't move on at all. It stopped, and it took a hell of an effort to hide behind jokes and grins.
Sighing, the doctor plucked the paper from where it was lying, and skimmed through the details that had been written in scribbly doctor writing. He chuckled, remembering how he'd had trouble reading it when he'd first started. Now, it wasn't too hard. He eyed the details of suicide, being admitted to hospital only about an hour ago, blood transfusion, patients name…
His breathing stopped, and his heart rocketed into at least double the speed it normally was. He could feel head draining from his face and leaving him in a cold sweat. His hands began shivering violently to a point where he could no longer hold the paper. His stomach pitched violently, filling him with a thick sensation of nausea. Without as much as a sound he shoved his chair aside and bolted for the bathroom.
Ripping the door open, he sank down next to the porcelain toilet bowl, and held his hair out of the way with one hand. He steadied himself with the other.
And retched. Retched until his stomach whined with pain and his throat burned. The feeling replacing the nausea was growing panic, and a twisted version of fear.
It wasn't Hiro Yey, who was in the recovery section of the hospital.
It was Yuy.
Heero, Yuy.
And Duo Maxwell collapsed onto the floor, shivering with his arms wrapped around his knees.
A/N: I like cliffhangers…I like the very much indeed ^^ Another 2-3 chapters, and this fic will be concluded…but you can cram a LOT into 3 chapters *evil grin*
Warnings: Er..stuff =D *blinks* Find out for yourself ¬¬
Disclaimer: I do not own the pilots or anything related to Gundam Wing ¬¬ *mumbles about injustice* If Duos Pikachu plushie or Heeros cat Shinigami were to suddenly appear somewhere in this fic, that is mine ^^
In the opposite side of the large hospital, was the wing committed to physiotherapy. On the second floor, slightly down a narrow corridor, was a large white door. The single brass plate read in plain black lettering - "Dr. Wells". It shone and glistened every time the fluorescent streams of light hit if from the tubular bulbs lining the ceiling. It was deserted, for the time being. The only sounds were the occasional snort coming from behind the closed door.
Sitting at the cluttered desk in the far end of the room, was none other than Dr. Wells himself. For the moment, his head was resting on a pile of unsigned papers surrounded by bits and pieces of receipts and forms. A dull black coffee mug, emptied, was situated dangerously close to the table edge of the table.
A soft snore escaped the sleeping doctor. He shifted his slender hand slightly across the table, and the mug moved a centimeter further to the edge. Closer to it's doom. A soft cough later, and it moved a slight bit more…
…and came crashing down on the cold concrete floor.
"Eeeeee! Shinigami!" in a whirlwind of paper he shot up, and the chair backwards. With a loud 'thwap' his head impacted with the wall behind him, cushioned slightly by his hair.
The chaos of paper started settling slowly in various areas of the room, wafted everywhere by the overhead fan. Groaning and mumbling about suing…someone, Wells shoved himself up and surveying the mess spread out before him.
"Hai, of course, this has to happen to me." He muttered to himself and sloppily gathered the papers on his desk into an acceptable pile.
"Why didn't I become...say…a hairdresser? I can' do that, no problem!"
He bent down to retrieve what had fallen on the floor. Chestnut brown strands of hair, having come undone sometime during his sleep for their customary braid, spilled over his shoulders.
"Or a bank manager…or a waiter…"
He stooped down and picked stationary and forms from under his desk, cursing when he smashed his head against the wood. His hands grabbed the papers and flitted across to grab the pencils. He paused when his hand brushed against the hard smooth surface like that of a photograph. Brushing other things aside revealed the slightly yellowed surface of a crumpled photograph.
/=/Odd…I don't keep old photographs…/=/ the doctor thought to himself and ran his finger along the edge of the photo, lifting it up from the floor. It was true, he usually didn't keep photographs. He supposed it was because he never attached himself too much, incase it'd be taken away from him, and photographs just added to the burden.
He slipped out from under his desk and sat back up in his chair, placing the photograph upside down on his table while he hastily gathered the largest pieces of porcelain from the late coffee mug. Suddenly the computer screen clicked on, and there was a clear picture of a fellow doctor, Kay, smiling at him.
"Mornin' Dr. Wells" she said politely, but the grin on her face showed otherwise. Kay had been his co-worker, rather, for quite a while. Since Duo had joined the course on physiotherapy late, she'd help him out from time to time. She wasn't a close friend, a 'buddy' more like it, and a tomboy at that. Her short dark brown hair was slightly messed up, and her green eyes shone with a glow that could compete with Trowa.
"Mornin' Kay" the doctor replied, poking his tongue out. He looked a mess with his hair undone and sleep still prodding at his eyes.
"Just woke up I take it?" there was some shuffling of papers, and she took up a file from a drawer. Unlike Dr. Wells, Kay was organized, despite what she might have appeared to be.
"Me?" he put on an act of mock hurt, touching his hand to his chest femininely, "how dare you assume that of me!"
Kay rolled her eyes and gave him a glare, subduing her co-worker immediately. He WAS a doctor after all, and there was a limit to the amount of mockery and sarcasm he could use in a day. It wasn't like the old times, when he could use it even when slashing mobile suits in two and causing the earth to rock with the explosion.
"Not so much today." She said in a would-be secretary voice, adjusting imaginary glasses.
"I'm relieved to hear that, dear madam." He responded in an equally snobbish manner, tenting his fingers and trying his best to look important. But it was hard to look past his untidy appearance.
"You have Ms. Olsen coming in at 3pm for a checkup on her supposed arthritis…" Kay paused and took her time to shuffle through the papers, furrowing her brow,"…and then a meeting at 3:45, but I can take care of that if you want."
"Nothing to do now, huh?" he prodded an ant scurrying across the desk, which made him look even more like a child. He'd many-a-time been mistaken for a rowdy child patient during his earliest months at the hospital.
"Nope, 'fraid not. Take a break or something." She shrugged. A soft 'beep' was heard through the screen, and Dr. Wells looked up in time to see her obtain a small hand scribbled note from the machine.
"Hm?"
"Oooo…scary…someone's apparently tried to commit suicide and-"
"Suicide? What does that have to do with me?" he earned a glare from Kay, who brandished her finger at him.
"Silent, you. I'm not done yet!" her eyes skimmed over the note, trying to decipher the almost illegible writing.
"Ah…here we are. Slit wrists, lost a lot of blood, yaddayaddayadda…" she continued, "Paralyzed from the legs down, here's the part that concerns you. They want you to run a check-up on him, apparently he's stayed away from a hospital for…whoa…four years!"
"Eeee…long time…who sent it?" Wells asked, toying with his hair. Kay shrugged and squinted at the paper, "can't tell, too scribbly. Patients name is…er…Yey"
"Yey?"
"Yes, Yey…I THINK. First name…Hiro, or something. It's hard to read! I'll send it to you." She pushed a few buttons, and soon Dr. Well's own fax machine started buzzing.
"Oooooookey, thaaaaaank you." Kay grinned and closed the connection, off to attend to her first patient of the day.
As the fax machine worked on receiving the data, the doctor looked back at the photo on the desk.
"Hai…this thing…" he turned it over.
And was met by an image that widened his eyes considerably. The droning of the fax was cut off, and the faded colors were the only thing to occupy his mind.
"I remember this…" he ran a finger across the picture, in a daze. It showed all five of them. Quatre, Trowa, Wufei, Heero…and himself. Quatre and Wufei were on the ground, Quatre having two fingers behind Wufeis head. Trowa was beside Heero, who centered the photo. On his left, he saw himself, with his trademark braid. His arm was thrown around Heero, who looked as grumpy as he'd always been. Grim and serious as they come. A picture taken not long before his last mission with Heero. It pained him to think back to that mission, where his life had been saved at the expense of his companion. That was ages ago, and he'd done his best to forget it. He was afraid of facing Heero, who sacrificed himself for him, and fretted that the others might be in his company. To be frank, he'd stayed away from them all. Like was his saying, he'd run, he'd hide, but he'd never lie.
"That's right…I may run, and I may hide…but I never lie."
The fax machine finished its work, producing a copy of the note. A note…he'd left a note. A note? Yeah, it was pathetic, but what could he do? He'd practically ruined Heero's life by being negligent during the mission. He had the spine to kill for hours on end, but not face his friends. Pffft, some friend he was.
/=/ Yeah I feel guilty…I feel damn guilty…and I smile and get on with life, whoop-dee-doo. Why do I? Because I'm a cowardly little wimp…So much of a coward that I changed my name…Wells…pftz…pathetic…/=/
He looked down at the photo remorsefully and turned it over. He was still running, still hiding. Life moved on…in a manner of speaking. Ok, so it didn't move on at all. It stopped, and it took a hell of an effort to hide behind jokes and grins.
Sighing, the doctor plucked the paper from where it was lying, and skimmed through the details that had been written in scribbly doctor writing. He chuckled, remembering how he'd had trouble reading it when he'd first started. Now, it wasn't too hard. He eyed the details of suicide, being admitted to hospital only about an hour ago, blood transfusion, patients name…
His breathing stopped, and his heart rocketed into at least double the speed it normally was. He could feel head draining from his face and leaving him in a cold sweat. His hands began shivering violently to a point where he could no longer hold the paper. His stomach pitched violently, filling him with a thick sensation of nausea. Without as much as a sound he shoved his chair aside and bolted for the bathroom.
Ripping the door open, he sank down next to the porcelain toilet bowl, and held his hair out of the way with one hand. He steadied himself with the other.
And retched. Retched until his stomach whined with pain and his throat burned. The feeling replacing the nausea was growing panic, and a twisted version of fear.
It wasn't Hiro Yey, who was in the recovery section of the hospital.
It was Yuy.
Heero, Yuy.
And Duo Maxwell collapsed onto the floor, shivering with his arms wrapped around his knees.
A/N: I like cliffhangers…I like the very much indeed ^^ Another 2-3 chapters, and this fic will be concluded…but you can cram a LOT into 3 chapters *evil grin*