Adaptation
By: Kiamirei
~I claim nothing, as usual. Feel free to send me your comments.
After what had seemed like an eternity, Trowa had finally regained consciousness. A small amount of happiness had shot through Heero when it happened, shocking himself. He was currently crouched at the bedside, softly speaking to the other pilot about what had happened since the nearly failed mission that had resulted in the self-destruction of Heavyarms.
"It's been a month and a half. Duo and Wufei were accepted into Oz," he said emotionlessly. "They'll be there until they gain the information they need, or until the situation becomes too dangerous. Normally they would never abort a mission, but…after what happened…well, we deemed that it would be most effective that way. My mobile suit is destroyed, which leaves only the three of them in action. Quatre is at Relena's, protecting her. He dropped off the remains of your Gundam with Howard."
With difficulty, Trowa nodded, emerald eyes barely focused. Heero continued, his voice monotone as usual.
"Quatre also went to the circus, to inform Catherine of what happened. I can't say what happened; we haven't been in contact with each other since the last mission we were all together. But he probably told her you were dead."
Trowa nodded again, but the Japanese boy could see the pain his companion was trying hard to hide; pilot 03 was in far too frail condition to be able to keep his mask in place. Jade eyes closed again briefly, but then opened.
"H-heero…" he choked out.
Heero watched him steadily, without pity, waiting for the rest of the statement.
"Why can't I…why can't I feel my legs?"
"Because they're gone," he whispered. "Cut off at the knees."
Without a word, or even a visible reaction, the injured pilot went back to sleep.
* * * *
It was evening three days later, and the two boys were once again talking, which was uncharacteristic to their personalities but necessary in the current situation.
"How's your condition?" Heero asked.
"Crappy. But better. I can speak without tiring, now."
"Hn."
"So…my legs are gone."
What he meant was, What happened? Why did I have to lose my legs? But he would never say it out loud. However, the two pilots shared an understanding, and the Asian pilot was able to correctly interpret the seemingly pointless statement.
"We tried to save them," he said. "But we couldn't. You were so injured; we didn't think you would live. Quatre, Duo, and Wufei probably think you're dead."
"We?"
"I was forced to take you to a hospital. I did some hacking and found that luckily, Sally was nearby, and was able to help. Otherwise, you'd be dead, because no matter how hurt you were there was no way I was entrusting you to someone who we don't know we can trust. It's just too dangerous for the rest of us." Heero's tone, while emotionless, held fright and unwanted memory in it.
~:~:~:~:~
Heero rushed Heavyarms' pilot into the building, ignoring the gasps and shouts of the people he pushed past. Sally, he knew, would be on the second floor, taking her lunch break. In about two minutes –it seemed like much longer- he had found her.
"Sally," he said, standing in the doorway of the hospital's cafeteria.
She turned, and her eyes widened as she rushed over to him, despite the stares of her colleagues, taking pilot 03's limp body and hurrying it to an empty stretcher, and then to the ER.
"Heero, is this…?"
"Trowa. Yes."
"What ha-"
"Later."
"Alright."
"Will he live?"
He watched her look over the body of his companion, which was covered with blood, and had various rags tied onto it in places where he had stopped bleeding. A sinking feeling rose in his chest, both unexpected and unwelcome. The human body was not meant to take that much damage and still be able to function. He told himself that emotions were trivial, and that he was weak for having them. His ally was dying; it was imperative for him to keep his head clear.
"I don't know," Sally said at last.
"Hn."
"But I'll try my best. God knows we can't afford to lose any of you."
He nodded, and watched her get to work. He would be on hand if she needed it, but aside from that, the two of them were alone. It would be far too risky to employ someone else's help.
Two and a half hours later, she turned to him tiredly, relief in her eyes.
"He has a chance of living," she said. "But his legs have to go."
"You can't save them?"
"Heero…there's nothing left to save. You can see that for yourself."
It was true, he knew. Trowa, from now on, was going to be legless.
~:~:~:~:~
"How am I supposed to pilot?" the boy asked. Heero hesitated; he had thought of this for hours on end, and had come up with only one answer.
"You can't."
"No?" Trowa's voice, carefully neutral, hid the panic he felt welling up inside of him.
"No. You'll be a liability. If you got caught, you'd have no way of escaping."
"I won't be caught."
Pilot 01 merely stared at him.
"Alright then, I'll kill myself if I get into any trouble."
"You don't even have a mobile suit to fight in anymore."
"Heero, I have to fight, you don't understand, I-"
"I understand perfectly. But you can't fight, and you know it. Don't be controlled by your emotions.
Trowa heaved a shuddering sigh. Then what am I supposed to do now? He asked himself. All I know how to do is kill people.
* * * *
Duo couldn't help but laugh at the organization that he had entered. Security was extremely lax, and he had gained the trust of almost all of his superior officers. Even Wufei agreed with him. The self-proclaimed Shinigami hid a chuckle behind his hand as he sat down to eat in his quarters. The Chinese boy frowned at him.
"What is it, Maxwell?"
"It's this place. It's so pathetic. Remember that really fancy private school we attended, the one with the huge rooms?"
"And the toilets were in each of the dorm rooms instead of the hallways?"
"Yeah! That's the one!"
"What about it?"
"I keep thinking Heero's bathroom was securer than this place."
Wufei shook his head at his companion, but the American saw the corners of his mouth turn up in a small smile. Duo laughed out loud, but that did not change the fact that for all of the ease in which they had begun their mission, the position frightened him. Infiltration had been Trowa's gig; all he was good at was hiding in the shadows.
* * * *
Quatre had come to the conclusion that he really, really disliked Relena Peacecraft. He admitted that she was a resourceful girl, intelligent, a great diplomat, and had an odd sort of courage to her, but her personality left much lacking.
He had offered to be her bodyguard, and she had willingly accepted, showing her appreciation by making sure he was unobtrusively given a good room and an excellent place to hide Sandrock. He now was by her side nearly all of the time, using his free time to eat and hack into files to further make sure she was absolutely safe. So far, he had alerted her of at least six assassination attempts that would be made, and killed two people who were actively trying to murder her. It was a chaotic time in the war, and it did not take a genius to recognize a golden opportunity when they saw one.
Her work schedule was at least half as demanding as his own schedule –except that where his "Things to Do" list contained items like "Destroy Oz Base," "Kill This Officer," "Kill That Officer," and "Blow Up Production Warehouse," her list contained items like "Speak to This Ambassador," "Release Press Statement," "Re-write Speech," and "Try to Prevent Riots." So, he had respect for her professionally. It was just her personality that he could not revere.
She snapped at her servants constantly, for one thing, showing no appreciation for what they did. She was vain, naïve, and could be even greedy. When she was tired, her temper was exceptionally short, and expected to receive what she wanted right that very instant. What's more, she had started to treat him like her own hired help.
I'm a Gundam pilot, he thought angrily, and don't you forget it. And don't let it slip your mind that I'm here voluntarily.
The Arabian felt guilty for thinking such things, though. Relena was very stressed out, and unlike him, she had not been trained to handle a rigorous agenda. When he thought about it more, he supposed that the main cause of his growing resentment was her lack of remorse for Trowa's death. It hurt to think of the silent boy as dead, but it would do no good to avoid the pain. Better to face reality, and get over any grief –unnatural though it was; he had not been close friends with the boy, after all- as naturally and quickly as possible.
~:~:~:~:~
"Good evening, Miss Relena," the blond boy said amiably as he stepped off of the shuttle and onto the earth.
"Hello, Quatre. And it's just Relena. Thank you for telling me you were coming, and agreeing to meet with me. I have some questions to ask about the war."
"I'll answer what I can gladly. But some things have to remain secret."
"I understand."
"This isn't why I'm here, though," he said slowly.
"Oh?"
"The war is getting crazier. It might be a good idea to keep a few people around to guard you."
"I have bodyguards, of course."
"What I mean is, I'm offering to protect you."
Relena was not a stupid woman; she accepted immediately.
"I'd be grateful if you did," she said. "And I'll be sure to find somewhere safe to put your mobile suit."
"Thank you."
"It's the least I can do."
"Oh…Miss Relena?"
"Yes?"
"There's something else." Quatre looked at the ground uncomfortably, pain apparent in his azure eyes.
"What is it?"
"We…we had a failed mission about a week ago…well…it was successful in the end, but it almost failed. See, we didn't know there would be so many mobile dolls and got surrounded. We hadn't been able to stay in one place for months, and Trowa was really low on ammunition as a result."
"What happened?" she asked breathlessly, eyes wide as she leaned towards him.
"My weapons snapped –it's never happened before- and I had to retreat, so I didn't see it. But I could hear what happened."
"Is Heero alright?" Her voice betrayed fear and concern.
"Yes, yes, he's fine," he answered impatiently. "But Trowa…. He had to self-destruct in order to save us and make sure that we destroyed what needed to be destroyed!"
"Oh," she said, considerably calmer and obviously uninterested. She straightened up again, her face no longer as pale as it had been only a moment ago.
"I'm sorry about that," she added as an afterthought. Her tone suggested otherwise.
Quatre just stared at her. Didn't the girl even care?
~:~:~:~:~
No matter how hard he tried, pilot 04 could not stop himself from thinking to himself that Relena was very lucky that they needed her alive. Otherwise, he would never waste his time with her.
* * * *
Late at night, Duo bent over the shoulder of his fellow pilot as they read the words on the screen of the laptop they were in front of. Its blue light illuminated the darkness as the clicking sound of the keyboard and mouse filled the room. Finally, the American broke the silence.
"How many bases did it say? You read faster than I do. I missed it."
"Seven."
"How long till they're fully operational?"
"We have about five months at the most."
"Can we leave, then? As lax as security is around here, pretending to be a soldier makes me nervous. I don't see how Trowa stood it. I get more and more afraid that I'm going to slip up somehow."
"Don't be weak. And no, we can't leave. We still need more information, and if we could get close enough to an important officer to kill him, it would be helpful."
"This really bothers me. In our job, now that Trowa's dead, can we really afford messing up?"
"I told you to stop being weak! This is our responsibility, Maxwell. It's our mission. And we're going to complete this mission. Another failure might end in more death. You, or me, or Quatre, or even Heero. Understand?"
"Yes. But if they figure me out, and take me prisoner, don't blame me, and don't leave me for them to torture. Just kill me."
