This chapter has been crawling along because of all the wordiness in the beginning. Heero thinks a lot. But I dedicate the final finishing of it to Chevira-san, for nagging me mercilessly every single day; Calipso-san and Rayne-san and Karyx-san and Nate Grey-san for their commentary, which greatly inspired me when I read it; to all my friends and followers in the fandom; and everyone who reads this fanfic and actually likes it in spite of me. ^^ Thank you, I love you all~
If you don't think people are in-character, please don't tell me that you don't think they're in-character. I've done intense research and analysis of every character in this fanfic. I'm characterizing them correctly. Your problems lie in your own perception. Maybe you should stop getting your ideas from the fanfiction and start getting them from the actual series you are allegedly a fan of?
And finally, if you are waiting for a great big cataclysmic duel of GW vs MK, get the hell out of here. This fanfic contains big words and actual usage of brain cells. None of the GW pilots wants to destroy humanity's last hope; none of the MK pilots run around and kill people they don't know who have never done anything to them for fun.
CRASH
[Into Me]
by Kay Willow
Part 1, Chapter 3
Dr. C was a perfectly normal person in his sixties, fairly well-preserved and probably once a very handsome man. His fine-boned face was lined with deep creases, and he was tall and lean, with long gray-black hair. There was an air of stillness about him, a tense feeling of inner struggle that hovered around his presence -- the kind of aura projected only by the sickly and dying -- but his eyes were still an unearthly blue, glowing with intelligence.
He had no physical deformities or gruesome prosthetics. Heero wasn't quite sure what to make of that.
As long as he could remember, Heero had been in training under Doctor J, and one of the things he'd always found to be true in his observational function was that the greatest of geniuses, the most outlandish of eccentrics, the ones who saw clearly the flow of power and knew how to manipulate it but who wanted none of it for their own... these people were always DIFFERENT. Whether in body shape or appearance or bearing, they were always physically freakish, scorned by the masses for their abnormalities. Doctor J had been in possession of several extremely unsubtle mechanical limbs that everyone assured Heero were quite creepy; Professor G had a nose that Duo had once joked could fully impale a man at sixty paces and a head of hair that ballooned out and nearly hid even that protruding feature; Doktor S had been missing his nose entirely, with tiny sunken eyes that seemed lifeless, more like a broken doll than a man. By far Instructor H and Master O had been the most normal of them, and Wufei's roshi stood over seven and a half feet tall and looked more like Frankenstein's creation than Frankenstein himself; Instructor H had been somewhat hunchbacked, and even Quatre -- least judgmental of souls -- had reported sheepishly that upon their first meeting he had been instantly distrustful of the weasel-like little man and his too-bright eyes and oil-slick hair.
Even the lesser brand of brilliant minds had seemed to follow this trend. Howard, the Sweeper mechanic who had been Duo's friend, was not only in possession of an extremely pointy goatee and sheep-horned hairstyle, but also several sets of Hawaiian shirts (which all the other pilots had repeatedly informed Heero were generally considered to be in extremely bad taste) and an omni-present pair of sunglasses. People had several times in Heero's presence mistaken Howard for a homeless man. On the far end of the scale had been Tubarov, Romefeller mechanical genius and full-blooded aristocrat, who had never dressed in anything less than full velvet ornamental gown and who would sneer down his nose -- which rivaled Professor G's -- at anyone who doubted his importance, while primping his page-boy haircut. Even Treize was distinguished by his greatness: aside from his rather unusual forked eyebrows, the man contained within his person a grace and elegance that was absolutely incomparable; a gentility which, if examined very closely, would seem almost repulsive.
As a matter of fact, the only truly great person Heero had ever known who hadn't been somehow marked by his own eminence was Quatre, and Quatre had once confessed to Heero that he had been genetically engineered, so he could hardly be born with defects. And while another could potentially be added to those ranks, Heero did not count Relena among the true leaders. She had yet to prove herself. She was not a leader for war. She was a leader for peace, a leader of a time not yet born. To Heero, such leaders were even more abstract than the man before him.
But the man before him WAS allegedly a leader for war. He guided what appeared to be a military academy and a crew of mobile suit pilots who fought for their race and their planet, and this was good and right. He oversaw the whole universe from his chair by the window, relaying orders and having others do the work he foresaw, and that too was good and right.
It was somehow deeply and disturbingly WRONG to him that Dr. C was not ugly or scarred or mutated or otherwise different from the norm.
"Welcome to GIS, Gundam pilots," the man intoned in a voice that was even and empowering.
No quavering variances?> Heero thought, feeling that strange wild feeling that he could now identify as panic rising up in his chest. No sneering decrescendo? What's wrong with this man? Why IS nothing wrong with him? This... I've never...>
A hand on his shoulder almost made him jump; he had been so busy trying to process this unexpected lack of weirdness that his senses had abandoned him AGAIN when they should have warned him of Trowa's approach.
I can't take this. I don't understand. Doctor J never mentioned this in my training.> Automatically, he sought to return to perfect equilibrium; his legs had tensed and his feet slipped slightly apart as though for flight, and his heart-rate had increased without his permission. Very unprofessional. I... I don't have a defined set of processes for this scenario.>
Trowa had already removed his hand, knowing it wasn't wanted, but what he had offered was still there when Heero looked again: sympathy. A wordless understanding and assurance that he wasn't the only one unsettled by the current chain of events. Overload was only to be expected when a program outsourced its calculated functions.
Yes. That's right. I'm a computer.> The thought was comforting. I've temporarily been put into a scenario that matches none of my programmed data. I will simply wait for the opportunity to reassemble the collected data in a pattern that fits, and then I will take the appropriate action. And in the meantime...>
All of that went through Heero's mind in a fraction of a second, and he found his answer. Only one of them was really equipped to deal with such dramatically turbulent situation. Wufei was too rigid, Trowa too secretive, Duo too excitable, and Heero himself too narrowly-trained.
Quatre was the only one of them who had background knowledge of the situation to make the proper decisions anyway. Heero couldn't lead them into this; this was not a war and not a battle but an evaluation, two totally random elements colliding and seeing what the other was about. He couldn't deal with the random. It wasn't something Doctor J had been able to coach him for. So it was up to Quatre to be their leader.
Fortunately, the young Arab was a born leader. He had been watching Heero with a nervous expectation; almost as soon as the acceptance registered with the other boy -- mere moments after Dr. C's words of greeting, because every second was a wasted second and could get somebody killed, and he had been trained to avoid unnecessary casualties -- Quatre stepped forward. "We are honored, Dr. C," he said, voice sounding thin and frail in the huge vaulting chamber, "to be the guests of the Academy."
Academy?> Heero filed that confirmation away, along with other tidbits that he had picked up from Quatre's obscure words and the speech of the others. So it is a military academy. Pilot training, most likely. Does this make Dr. C the headmaster, or is he some superior position as an overseer?>
Dr. C smiled at this response. "And I am pleased to meet you as well. Quatre Raberba Winner, I believe?"
Does he have access to our channels-- No, wait. That Teela woman probably told them.> Heero glared at her. She had gone on ahead to inform Kuro of the circumstances, as well as why the Gundam pilots would be accompanied by a crew of somewhat disgruntled Candidates, and stood now at the scientist's right hand, graceful fingers curled around the back of his chair as she watched them with a cool detachment.
Heero HATED Teela Zain Elmes.
He still couldn't explain to himself why he'd panicked so badly when she'd confronted him in the hangar bay. He could make up a thousand excuses, but there was nothing logical that would justify his reaction. All he knew was that if he stared at her too long, everything -- EVERYTHING: her hair, her skin, her hands, her eyes, most especially her eyes -- seemed somehow WRONG. It made him edgy. What exactly seemed wrong? What was the source of this sensation? She never did anything, he never identified anything; was it his evaluation that was incorrect?
But he didn't understand her, or his reactions to her, or even himself in perspective to her. And Heero had been conditioned to understand things.
Heero hated her because he didn't understand her.
And because he was, on some deep, primitive level beyond Doctor J's conditioning, afraid of her.
Dr. C was speaking. "We believe that we have an explanation for your sudden and rather alarming arrival in our own universe. Of course, there is very little logic that you would recognize inherent in this definition -- it would seem to be beyond the scope of the rational mind -- but there is an explanation." He tapped one finger against the arm of his chair.
"You see, in this universe we have a force called 'EX ability'."
"Exacts ability," Quatre said immediately, as if that meant something.
"Yes," Dr. C responded. "You see, over time in our universe we have experienced a genetic mutation, and certain individuals with Type O blood developed a new strand of bloodtype, which is now called Type EO. However, no female has ever had Type EO blood."
His eyes flickered to Teela as he spoke, and so did Quatre's. It was a lie.
An exception to the rule? Genetic freak?> Perhaps that was why he reacted to her. But still... It wasn't like he'd never met people who were genetically different before. He himself was considered to be such a person. And wouldn't all the mutations of this place bother him that way?
"And in certain males who possessed the Type EO blood was discovered an unrecognizable body -- a new type of enzyme, if you will -- which reacted at the bearer's discretion, with intensities and manners that varied from person to person," he said, standing now and beginning to pace awkwardly, hampered visibly by his illness. Heero surmised it to be a reflexive action left over from Dr. C's younger years. "Some men could use this ability to move items with the power of the mind. Others could speak directly into another person's head. Still more could use it to conjure up flame..."
"Telekinetic," Wufei murmured, drawing surprised looks. "Telekinetic, telepathic, and pyrokinetic."
Dr. C smiled at him and nodded. "And no two abilities were ever alike. For example, one man could only summon red flame, another only blue, and a third could summon blue or red but only enough to warm his fingertips, never more. These powers came to be called, as a whole, EX abilities.
"And they only appeared in males with EO bloodtype, usually after puberty and before adulthood." Dr. C waved. "If used too often, these abilities would grow weaker over time, until eventually they faded away entirely."
"By what age, usually?" Wufei inserted again. He seemed fascinated. Quatre was giving him a disapproving look, for some reason Heero couldn't even begin to imagine -- the blonde was usually the one encouraging the spreading of knowledge.
Dr. C didn't seem to mind, though. "Usually, by the age of twenty," he elaborated. "If carefully conserved, it might last until twenty-five, and remnants of its effects have been discovered up until the age of forty."
"Effects?"
"Oh, say... an individual whose EX was to enhance his stamina might have an unusual amount of strength and recovery speed even after his EX was beyond his reach."
Wufei scoffed. "That doesn't sound like much use to me. A totally random power that lasts for less than ten years with the occasional after-effect that can't be controlled?"
"Ah, but it is of great use," Dr. C corrected, smiling again. Heero nearly bristled. He didn't like the way Dr. C was so FRIENDLY either. The Gundam scientists had only smiled in cruel and cutting manners, when they were mocking lesser people, usually -- but Dr. C actually appeared to be smiling in a kindly knowledgeable manner that was grating on Heero's nerves. "You see, it was discovered that the only way to truly pilot an AHW is to have EX ability."
"AHW?" Duo began, his own curiosity finally stirred.
"It is what we call our mobile suits. And those who pilot them must always have EX." The scientist waved at the Candidates who stood in a respectful line by the doorway.
Respectful only in the loosest sense of the term. Heero couldn't help noticing that two of them appeared to be having a rather furious conversation under their breaths, and the other three were leaning away from them warily. One of the troublemakers was the one called Zero, which had already ceased to surprise Heero at all.
Dr. C cleared his throat meaningfully, and they snapped to attention. (Including Duo, who immediately slouched again, looking furious with himself.) Then he returned, quite casually, to his explanation.
"You see, EX reaction can be used raw, or it can be channeled. And if it is channeled into a specially-made object such as a Pro-Ing, it can become interactive. Once you synchronize with a Pro-Ing... Number 86..."
There was a brief pause, and then a short Candidate with ragged purple hair staggered forward out of the line and saluted. "Uh... You become one with it, like... so you can see through the metal as if it weren't there, and... You don't need joysticks or directional controls to move it, because it moves with you, and... You feel damage done to it like your own pain?"
"Very good. And how do we deal with that unfortunate side-affect of the synchronization, Number 85?" Dr. C appeared to be enjoying himself immensely as a thin boy with emerald hair stumbled out to replace his companion.
He saluted rather belatedly. "Eh... Well, that's what the Repairer is for! Wrecka-chan -- your Repairer partner, I mean -- cuts the scanner line that joins you to the Pro-Ing, and if she does it fast enough you don't feel the pain. Right?"
"Nicely said." Dr. C turned and returned to his seat briefly. "So without the synchronization allowed by your EX traveling through the scanner... Number 89." He smiled again, this time laced with something almost smug.
But Number 89, with straw-like hair and wide-lens glasses, was delighted to jump forward and recite, "The Pro-Ing would be nothing more than a mountain of metal. You would be blinded without the transparency in metal provided by the scanner link; paralyzed without the unity of movement; and deaf without the carrying of sound. Almost all AHW technology is dependent upon the EX connection, which is why the only people who are allowed to join GOA as fighters are young men between the ages of fourteen to sixteen with EO bloodtype who are EX positive, for a three year term of service!"
"Thank you very much, Number 89. Excellent," Dr. C said graciously as Teela turned her head away in a gesture that, on a normal person, Heero would've assumed was to hide a smile. "Because EX connections are so vital to the operation of our daily community... 87..." That gentle expression hardened for a moment into something more disapproving.
The white-haired boy with the red eyes glared at the floor as he stepped forward and saluted in his turn. "The use of it is highly illegal in any situation, penalties ranging from five points on the tally, a rank demerit, or instant expulsion. Outside of battle," he added, defiantly compared to the rest of his monotone speech, eyes darting up to study the scientist.
"Yes," was the slow agreement. "Outside of battle." Dr. C stood again and turned around to look out the great windows behind him, at space. "Number 88," he said after a moment. "Do you have any idea what happened today? To bring these Gundam pilots here from their home?"
The one called Zero folded his arms, neither stepping forward nor saluting. "Does it have something to do with EX?" he asked flatly. "Is it my fault, because I used my EX during the battle?"
"It is partially your fault," Dr. C confirmed. "Who else do you suppose might be at fault?"
"Hiead," Zero insisted immediately, drawing a hate-filled glower from 87. He snarled back soundlessly.
Heero's guard snapped back into place. Those two could be absolutely nothing but trouble. He'd rarely seen so much dislike combined into two people before. Behind him, Quatre murmured something about overwhelming emotions, and Duo added under his breath that if there was going to be another brawl, he wasn't sure which one he wanted to beat up more when they got involved.
"That is correct," Teela pronounced in a crystalline voice that cut through everything with fine precision. "Their presence here was caused by Hiead's EX... and Rei's EX..." Zero started violently at the name. "...and my EX."
Dr. C took over again. "When their three EX abilities, all based on temporal distortion, collided in the same space due to their concern about the Victim in their midst, attacking Erts... Well, a very major distortion was created. It went right through the boundaries of space-time." He shrugged, as if such a thing were perfectly normal and happened every day. "You came through the other side."
"Can we... replicate that circumstance? And send us back through?" Quatre wanted to know.
"I don't know," Dr. C said pleasantly. "You see, the distortion was focused through young Erts -- he was the channel for your summoning. So really, whether or not you get home at all... depends completely on him."
Seeing Quatre's distressed expression when those words sank in did not give Heero an uplifting sense of hope.
"We will do our utmost to see you returned, of course," Dr. C continued. "And we shall keep all of you here, roomed on GIS in the best quarters we can give you--"
"Except for Heero," Quatre corrected.
"Yes, speaking of which." Dr. C's eyes flickered to Heero, paused there briefly, and then moved on. "Number 88," he said mildly. "Zero Enna."
The boy blinked again, and stumbled forward, putting a hand to his heart in salute slowly. "Ye... Yessir?"
"You insulted, provoked, and fought with a Pilot today."
Dawning horror crossed his face. "Sir... Sir, about that... I apologize. I was getting carried away... Erts was in such bad shape... I wasn't thinking..."
"You will have to be punished."
Zero folded in on himself and shut his eyes. "I understand, sir."
For that much trouble? I wouldn't be surprised if he got expelled. This is a military academy, after all.> Heero turned expectantly to the scientist and awaited the sort of judgement that he would've gotten had he been Zero and Dr. C replaced by Doctor J.
"I can't believe this," Clay seethed under his breath.
It was unusual for Clay to be so angry that a term like 'seethe' could be accurately applied to him. Usually, Zero mused, it was more like 'squeak in outrage'. Seeing as how he was the cause of this rare phenomenon -- (Zero really had no idea what that word meant, and even less idea how to pronounce it properly, but Clay himself always used it in situations like this) -- Zero resolved to walk a bit further away from the boy.
"Well, it's all Zero's fault," Yamagi volunteered cheerfully with a smug grin in Zero's direction. Zero resolved to teach the little brat a lesson as soon as everyone stopped hating him.
Clay stopped short in his tracks, making Roose stop, making Yamagi and Zero stop. Hiead simply ignored them all and kept walking, although the glare he directed at Zero as he passed was enough to burn through metal.
"That's right! It's your fault!" Clay insisted in a shout almost girlishly high with stress. "Because you couldn't keep a lid on your temper, I DON'T HAVE ANYWHERE TO SLEEP TONIGHT!"
Zero raised his hands defensively. "I don't either!"
"Neither does Hiead," Yamagi pointed out with insane glee, obviously feeling it necessary to be really helpful as he indulged his death wish.
"We've all been kicked out," Zero continued, ignoring him manfully.
"Except for me."
"Hey... I haven't been kicked out either, Yamagi-kun..." Roose protested feebly.
Clay gave them his most frightening scowl -- it wasn't all that frightening, but just the fact that he tried counted for something -- and returned to his rant. "You had to go and bully a PILOT, didn't you? You couldn't JUST fall into an Ingrid this time, NOOOO, you had to TRY AND KILL A PILOT to boot!"
"I wasn't trying to kill anybody," Zero protested, although this was not technically true, because at the time he'd been so pissed off that he wasn't going to place any large wagers on his own restraint if someone reversed time and allowed that fight to continue until completion. "And I didn't fall into an Ingrid this time!" No, he'd actually done it deliberately this time, and he still wasn't quite sure how except that he'd somehow known that he could.
In fact, if he didn't know better, he'd swear that Teela of the White Goddess had also known.
Despite his brilliant arguments, Clay went right on sputtering. "We finally get to meet Dr. C. and the first thing that happens is he SCOLDS US for allowing you to make an idiot out of yourself AGAIN -- so much for good first impressions! -- and then he punishes us for it! By putting a CONFIRMED PSYCHOPATH in our room because we can't in good conscience put him in A HOLDING CELL!"
"Nee, I think he can speak Standard," Roose whispered loudly, casting a terrified glance at the stranger waiting patiently for them to resume their trek.
Even in the wrist-irons, the boy who'd been introduced as Heero Yuy
managed to project an air of menace. Zero still couldn't believe that they'd
been allowed to escort the nutcase alone -- or that Rivould had actually
put the nutcase in the room that had previously been assigned to 87-88-89.
"This way he is guaranteed the
comfort we offer all of our own pilot candidates," Dr. Rivould explained
pleasantly to the nutcase's friends while Zero and his teammates stared
at him, stunned. "The doors can be sealed with high-authority clearance
codes, thus guaranteeing his safety." And, he hadn't said, the safety of
every single Candidate in the corridor. But he may as well have.
"What about us?" Clay inquired faintly.
"This is the punishment I exact in return
for Zero's misdemeanor." The man frowned at them. "You will clear your
belongings from the room; Heero Yuy will be the sole resident until further notice."
"We have to be rooming across from a criminal,"
Roose breathed in disbelief, clutching at Yamagi's arm until Yamagi shoved
him away.
"I refuse to suffer the price of Zero's
imbecilic behavior," Hiead insisted, nearly fuming. Zero recovered from
his shock long enough to exchange a heated glower with the asshole.
Rivould smiled thinly. "Oh, yes you will,
Number 87." He tapped his armrest meaningfully. "You are a single unit.
The five of you, you late-80s, must be as united as any pilot quintet;
united the way the Seniors are, united as the Top are, united as the Goddess
Pilots, united even as these foreign and unfamiliar Gundam pilots." He
waved at the boys in question, who were huddled and apparently talking
through this latest development, although the one with the black hair looked
up defensively when he heard their mechas mentioned.
United? Us? Man, is he gonna be in
for an unpleasant surprise when he sees us in action. We can barely make
ourselves stop shooting at each other long enough to shoot at the Victim.>
Zero scanned his teammates skeptically, noting with scorn that Yamagi and
Roose were hiding behind him, obviously hoping that Rivould didn't include
them in the quintet.
"But where will we go?" Clay tried again,
visibly at a loss.
Blue eyes narrowed. "I don't care," Rivould
said thinly. "You can sleep in the hallway, in your Pro-Ings, in the hangar.
Wherever you can. But you will be there together, and you will go through
it together, and you will go to your lessons just as if you were still
in possession of your room."
"Assuming we still have lessons," Teela
added thoughtfully, staring out at the stars and running her fingers across
the back of Dr. Rivould's chair.
Zero cocked his head and stared at Heero, who stared back.
"Not exactly the friendly sort," he commented. "Couldn't we have gotten one of the nice ones?"
"No!" Clay hissed. "The NICE ones are on GIS, cozying up to the Pilots. WE get the homicidal one!"
The narrowing of their charge's eyes suggested that he wasn't too terribly attached to them either. Zero took heart in it; that meant that somewhere under that stony expression there was a personality, and maybe that meant that there could be communications opening up somewhere along the line.
"I'm just glad he's in restraints," Roose volunteered, beginning to resume the walk.
Zero didn't move. "Who, him?" he asked incredulously, pointing at Heero just to be sure. "You think that means anything?" The others turned to look at him. "This guy could've been gone any of a dozen times by now."
"What?" Yamagi snapped. "Don't be stupid; he's here, isn't he?!"
"You CAN'T think we've been doing such a diligent job of guarding him," Zero stated with heavy sarcasm. "There's been SO many opportunities for him to knock out one or more of us, and he's ignored them all." He turned and grinned at the nutcase, who didn't grin back. "You're not taking any hostages," he said brightly. "That's a good sign. Progress."
Heero stared at him for another long moment. Then he said slowly, "You are Zero Enna."
"Yeah."
"I don't usually take hostages among my allies," the boy said simply, and turned to face forward again.
Zero shrugged at the others, who were giving him looks clearly asking if he thought this had done anything other than prove the insanity of their charge, and then resumed the march.
"We're Candidates," he explained to the newcomer. "The male students of this school. The head honcho explained most of that to you. We pilot Pro-Ings, which obviously is abbreviated for Prototype Ingrid. Not prototype as in beta model, but as in training vessel, the way you'll get acclimated to using an Ingrid without ever actually entering one. Most people who get in a Goddess without the proper programming get fried, or so they say. I'm not sure how accurate that fact is, since I'm obviously still in one piece and I've also obviously done it before, I mean, you were watching--"
Clay was giving him the kind of bulging-eyed look that a person might give to an idiot who was dispensing important information to someone who took hostages under stress. "Zero!" he squeaked, back to a more typical reaction.
"Hey, they let HIEAD know this, it can't be THAT top-secret, right?" Zero returned.
"What does that have to do with anything?!"
"Well, I just proved that this guy is saner than Hiead." Blank stares greeted this pronouncement, so he elaborated. "Because Heero says that he doesn't usually assault his allies. But Hiead does. So Heero's saner than Hiead."
Even Heero was staring at him in wonder. Or something like wonder.
The great part is, I know it SOUNDS crazy, but nobody can prove me wrong.>
And indeed, after a few seconds, Clay said faintly, "I know I should be arguing against that, but somehow I can't."
"You should be in a debate class," Yamagi advised.
"Can we continue?" Heero interjected, sounding tense. He was looking so flat it was almost, somehow, murderous. "This is extremely inefficient."
Roose practically fled down the hallway, Clay following at an only slightly more dignified speed. Zero took his time, Yamagi keeping pace with him in his usual cocky manner, although it was entirely feigned; he was sweating and his eyes kept darting nervously behind him.
Zero didn't understand what their problem was. Heero was weird and hostile, sure, but they could take him. He didn't even have EX, so he was even less scary than Hiead was, and Zero wasn't scared of him either.
Heero didn't have EX, but...
"I can't believe we have to stand
here and wait for them to have a medical check," Yamagi griped.
Roose was wringing his hands quietly. "I
hope Wrecka-chan's not mad at the delay," he moaned, and conveniently missed
the withering glares that the others directed at him.
The four of them leaned against the wall
outside GIS' medical station, listening in as a man who had been introduced
to them as Dr. Huan explained the physical check to the five weird newcomers.
Hiead had wandered down the hall and waited tensely -- he made a point
of never standing with the rest of them. Teela Zain Elmes sat patiently
across from the med bay, having apparently been appointed tour guide by
Dr. Rivould.
Zero occupied his time by staring at her.
She was gorgeous, but it was easy to understand why that Yuy character
had flipped out when she'd faced him head-on: there was something indefinably
odd about her. Something in the way her body was so perfect and yet moved
oddly; something in how placid the expression in her eyes was even as they
drank you deep within. The universe seemed infinitely larger around her
than anywhere else.
Looking at her made Zero think of things
he'd long forgotten. Odd, half-formed memories that echoed inside him and
started him thinking...
The door to the medical station exploded
open, and the blonde visitor stumbled into the hall, looking frustrated.
"I tell you," he said to the attendants who spilled out after him, "my
blood type is O! O-positive, if you must! I've been checked hundreds of
times! I'm heir to a very large fortune -- there's no way a mistake in determining my blood type
could've gone unnoticed!"
Zero, who was observing the new show with
amusement, couldn't help noticing the way Hiead's entire being focused
when the blonde shouted his net worth to anyone who was listening. "You
better hope your inheritance is really secure, guy," he murmured, amused.
Dr. Huan waved his hands in a calming gesture.
"Quatre, child; it's entirely possible that people where you come from
don't have a register for EO blood type. After all, it did evolve from
the O type, so it's very possible that they simply haven't identified you
as..."
"But I'm O type," he insisted.
"But our system says you aren't," Huan
pointed out gently. "Your blood type is EO-positive."
"He's got EO-positive?" Yamagi parroted,
drawing attention over to their cluster. "No way! Does he have EX, too?"
"Is he going to become a Candidate?" Roose
asked cheerfully.
"No, and no!" Quatre snapped.
"Yes and no." Huan beamed at the blonde
when he turned to glare at the corrected answer. "I'm afraid that you do
seem to have EX, my boy."
Zero shook his head. It was easily the weirdest coincidence ever.
Not only had an extremely random event called five boys his own age from
another dimension, but one of them just happened to be the first person
in his universe to develop EX.
"So what sort of EX does he have?" he asked out loud. Yamagi stared at him, bewildered, for a moment, as if thinking that Zero meant HIM. Then Zero remembered that they couldn't be expected to follow his silent train of thought. "Cat-something-or-other, I mean. What's his EX? Do you know?"
Heero gazed at him, expression fixed. He didn't share.
"Oh, right, critical information and all that." Zero rolled his eyes. "Come on. You're not going to be attacking us, right? And you're not giving away state secrets, here. Just tell us if you've ever noticed things that he can do that seem odd or unnatural."
Still no answer.
"Hahaha! This is the room! 87-88-89!" Roose announced with obvious false cheer. He was sweating. Zero sighed and tried to move past him into his room, but Hiead was exiting simultaneously, and there was nearly a fistfight right then and there.
When that had been sorted out, Hiead headed straight across the hall and dumped his few possessions onto Roose's bed. Roose's eyes went wide, and he inched closer to Zero, the nearest defensive presence.
"I guess you guys are going to be sleeping in our room," Yamagi admitted, a bit disgruntled. "But we are not giving up our beds. YOU are sleeping on the floor!"
"Yeah fucking right!" Zero snapped back. "Sorry to inform you that I have NO intention of sleeping at the foot of your bed on the floor like some kind of dog!"
"Oh, is that so!"
Heero was staring at them so dispassionately that their argument stopped before it had even gained momentum. He wasn't rushing them or anything, but they both suddenly felt like they were standing right next to a living, walking, breathing source of potential trouble.
Zero shuffled in and started gathering his own meager belongings. Clay had already finished, and headed across the room to put down his own stuff.
"Hey! The last place you're sleeping is in my bed, Fortran!"
"Yamagi, be reasonable. Where else would I sleep?"
"With HIM, why don't you! I call Zero! He's the sanest of the lot of you, and that's pretty sad!"
"What?! ME, sleeping next to... to HIEAD?!"
"Yamagi-kuuun... I want to sleep in your bed too... He's scary..."
"No! Fuck all of you!"
It didn't take a genius to realize that cramming four boys and one sociopath into two beds was going to be a problem. Zero sat back on his heels and stared at his knapsack for a second, trying to think of a possible solution, or at least a way to avoid murder occurring before midnight tonight.
Can't go beg help from the girls; even if they DON'T say it's my own fault and make me suffer for it, the top brass are going to know and they'll throw me right out an airlock. Can't go get help from any of the others; I don't really know any of the Candidates outside my own group well enough to be asking them to lend me a bed for who knows how long. Can't go and try for help from Azuma; he'd laugh his head off and then say that Rivould was too soft on me and I should go run seventy laps right now. Who's left?>
And then, as occasionally happened, the perfect opportunity presented itself.
Brightening immediately, he hopped up and snatched his knapsack, then sprinted from the room.
"Bye, you guys!" he called cheerfully as they all turned to stare at him. "I'll see you later! Don't forget to lock up the Gundam pilot!"
"What do you mean we have to sleep together?"
Dr. Rivould had assigned her this task because she was the Chief Repairer, and probably also because he knew she was the most mature and competent person in all of GIS aside from himself and maybe Teela. But Leena privately wondered if maybe he'd chosen her because he had some sort of grudge against her. She wished that he'd asked her to take on a Victim swarm by herself in nothing more than a spacesuit -- it would surely be easier than this task. The look on the faces of the Pilots weren't exactly encouraging.
"I mean," Leena said smoothly, sweeping her hair back casually, "that to accommodate the four Gundam pilots, we need to free up four of our rooms. So some of us will need to double up."
"...us?" Rioroute repeated, as if concerned that he was mishearing. "Why can't, like, the technicians give up their rooms?"
"Because their rooms are practically air-compressed." Phil didn't appear to be aware that she'd spoken; it was simply natural to respond with scorn whenever Rio said something she didn't agree with.
Leena acknowledged, "This is true. We can't house them in hovels like that. They need proper rooms -- they're our guests."
"So put them in GOA's guest rooms!" was Gareas' brilliant solution.
"No. We want them to be..." Leena made a vague gesture that was supposed to be subtle. She received, in return, seven stares blank with confusion, and one stare blank with neutrality.
Yu murmured, "Away from Heero Yuy."
"Ohhh."
"Not a bad idea."
"Anyway, Dr. Rivould told me that GIS and GOA were going to stay together for a while, and at these coordinates -- they're not sure what sort of disturbances could result from the dimensional whatever-it-was," the blonde woman said. "So it's perfectly safe, and if anything goes wrong... Well, we can always detach and avoid a crisis."
"But this brings us back to that whole sleeping-together thing," Garu said flatly. He sighed with such a long-suffering air that Leena had to remind herself that hitting him wouldn't get anything done. "I guess it won't be so bad. It has to be my room, though, okay, Leena?"
Leena gave him a flat look. "You'll be sleeping with Rioroute."
"WHAT?" both men in question squawked in unison.
"And I'll be tripling up," she continued briskly, pretending not to notice their horror. "Quatre Raberba Winner will take Tune's room, and Duo Maxwell can have Phil's. Garu's room goes to Trowa Barton. Kazuhi--"
"--will be with me," Yu said tonelessly, and glared at everyone who looked at him twice. Kazuhi seemed profoundly relieved.
"But, um, that's kind of freaky," Rio pointed out. "If we're not going to gender-coordinate here, then we should pair-coordinate. So Phil, you and I can--"
Phil turned a strawberry-red. Leena hurriedly interceded, "All these decisions are final. Garu will be sharing your room." She prudently didn't mention that she'd been counting on Yu and Kazuhi volunteering to share a room.
"I don't even get to keep my own room?!"
"No, Garu!"
"Wait, wait, wait." Rio made the sort of calming gesture associated with a sage person about to dispense his wisdom. "What about Erts? Couldn't--"
"Don't be STUPID!" Leena and Tune yelped at the same moment. Tune immediately blushed and murmured an apology, but Leena continued angrily. "You don't force a telepathist into a situation where it'd be all too easy to touch him without even meaning to! It'd be cruel!"
Rio blinked, then grinned sheepishly. "Oh, yeah..."
"So it's settled. Tune and Phil and I in my room; Quatre in Tune's room, Duo in Phil's. Garu and Rio are in Rio's room, and Trowa gets to take Garu's--"
"Which one is he? Not the grinny one with the braid, right?" Gareas demanded tersely.
"Trowa is the tallest one, with the bangs," Phil corrected.
After a long moment of thought, Gareas appeared to find this answer acceptable. "Okay. I can live with that. Seems quiet. Not prone to rummaging through other people's things curiously."
Phil said thickly, "You think Duo would be?"
"Are you KIDDING? Did you see that GRIN?"
The redhead looked like she might be considering a request for a transfer already.
Oh, good,> Leena thought wearily. This is out to an absolutely brilliant start.> She resigned herself to continuing. Teela would be back with the Gundam pilots soon. "They will all be requested to NOT go rooting through your things. Now then, Yu and Kazuhi in Yu's room..."
"Kazuhi's," Yu corrected. "Staying in my room will be Chang Wufei?"
"What the hell kind of a first name is Chang?" Rio demanded of Garu.
Leena didn't bother addressing that. "Yes, he'll be in your room."
"This is an acceptable arrangement." And with that, Yu stood and left the room. Kazuhi looked after him, seeming vaguely embarrassed, and didn't move.
Rio and Garu also clambered to their feet. That is so typical.> Leena hurriedly said, "The REST of you have to stay! We have something to talk about first."
"Oh, good. MORE oppressive crap," her partner snarled.
"Garu, you'd KNOW if we were oppressing you, because your attitude would earn you a smackdown in nanoseconds," she retorted. "Now sit down and shut up!" When he opened his mouth to object again, she added, "Remember that DR. RIVOULD gave me these orders, so if you don't listen to them, you're going up against Himself."
Reluctantly, Garu threw himself back onto his chair. "Fine. Talk."
"Battle-ready standby preparations are lowered to gray levels." There were those blank stares again. Was Yu the only one of them who'd actually listened to the Instructors when they were on GOA? "That's the lowest setting, you guys."
"I know that," Rio protested weakly. "But... how? I mean..."
"Dr. C says that there shouldn't be any more attacks for a few days," Leena informed them, shrugging. She'd been just as stunned to hear the news. "He said that all the lower-level Victim are frightened of the power that was generated by the rift that opened momentarily between the dimensions; all Victim will probably be staying away from the area for a while."
"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," Gareas scorned. "Victim are afraid of these five twerps?"
"Not the boys," Tune murmured. "The rift?"
Leena nodded. "And Dr. C seems to think that unless we get attacked by something really major -- like a Z or X-type -- there won't be any attacks until it gets fixed."
"Then why don't we just never fix it and call the war over?" Rio laughed.
He was ignored, as was the only truly appropriate response to such a stupid question. She continued, "And since we all know that such powerful Victim only come once every ten or fifteen years, there's no need to worry about that. So everyone, enjoy what free time you have!"
"Wasn't the last one, like, five or six years ago?" Rio asked, standing up with the others.
"That's right," Leena confirmed. "Five years ago, when a Type-Z attacked Far Reaches Area 128, Colony K-01..."
The horror of it only took a moment to dawn on him.
I can't move my left arm!>
It took an extra few seconds to realize that, while his left arm in particular was immovable, his entire upper body was pinned to the surface beneath him. That was bad. On the other hand, he hadn't felt anything since regaining consciousness, which was good, but a pipe dream that he somehow felt couldn't possibly last beyond the moment he opened his eyes to find out what was wrong with himself. But he was awake now, and couldn't for the life of him remember what had happened, and rising panic convinced him to risk that last step towards awareness.
He was staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. Erts squinted against the bright halogen lights, and forced his unstable vision to focus: the ceiling resolved itself into the slim metal paneling that was inextricably linked with the medical bay in his mind.
Med bay? And I can't move? Was I... wounded?> The memory of his visit to Yu earlier that morning arose in him again, sickening and horrifying. What if it was his own body now that had been patched with the chameleon skin?
Erts realized that he couldn't raise or lower his head. He turned it to the right, very slowly.
Zero was asleep, sprawled in a chair next to the bed.
It was a long and bewildered moment before Erts remembered: the attack, the battle, and the aftermath. He'd been wounded, somehow; a Victim had torn into him, and now he was here. A quick check of his person reassured him that all his other injuries had been fixed already. There was a restraining device hovering over his shoulders to prevent him from moving, and a faintly whispering machine on his arm, fixing the worst of the damage even as he laid there. He couldn't even feel whatever it was doing to him.
He felt oddly disassociated from it. There were two pressing issues on his mind.
Where did that Victim come from? How could it possibly have hidden its presence from me, from Reneighd, that close? Have they learned how to cloak themselves? ...are they getting smarter?>
And, just as pressing: What is Zero doing here?>
They were definitely on GIS, but Zero couldn't possibly have the security clearance to enter into that area. Of all the Candidates, only the Top and a few authorized Seniors were allowed onto GIS when it was docked, no matter who was a friend of or related to GIS crew. If there was someone on the Goddess Integration System that you wanted to visit, they had to go to you.
As though he could somehow tell that he was being thought about, Zero chose that exact moment to begin to stir. For no reason whatsoever, Erts felt profoundly embarrassed -- maybe it was because of his vulnerable position and inability to move -- and turned his head back, hoping to make it seem like he was still unconscious.
Zero was not fooled. The first place he looked upon regaining his bearings was not at Erts himself, but at the heartrate monitor embedded in the foot of the hospital bed. And, clever boy, he recognized the rhythm he saw there as being a wakeful pattern, not a sleeping pattern. "Aha," Zero observed cheerfully, "you've finally woken up!"
"Yes," Erts murmured, although that was hardly an enthusiastic response. He tried again. "Not that you're one to talk, drifting off the way you did." That was no good, it just sounded accusatory. He tried adding a smile, to soften whatever blow might've been unintentionally behind the words, but suspected it came off rather lopsided.
"Guilty as charged." Zero didn't seem offended. He was hard to offend by accident. "You okay? Nothing hurts, right?"
"I can't feel anything at all," was the honest response, until it occurred to Erts that since the question had probably been delivered with the intent of gaining reassurance, he should've answered with something reassuring, like 'No, nothing hurts!' There was that embarrassment again. Erts began to wonder if he'd forgotten how to talk to other humans in the weeks it had been since he left GOA.
"Yeah, modern technology is something else. And I'd know, because they try to avoid automic surgery with me, so I've got to get lots of the other stuff. I heard they went the natural healing way with you, too."
Profound relief lightened the burden crushing Erts' heart. No new automics. The concept of a better and more permanent healing had been outweighed by the rarity of his EX. That was why he was still in restraints.
"How long has it been?" Erts asked him.
Zero shrugged. "A couple of hours. Maybe three."
"What happened? After I passed out?"
"The weirdest fucking thing." He laughed. "These five weird kids in five weird AHWs appeared out of thin air. Doc Rivould said they're from another dimension. We have been visited by boys from a different plane of existence -- can you believe it? They don't have EX where they come from or anything!"
An odd premonition lingered at the forefront of his mind. Erts frowned. That sounds strangely similar to my dreams lately... Five boys who call themselves Gundam pilots, from a place where there's no Victim or EO-type blood...>
"But, hey, never mind that." Zero leaned forward. "I was talking to that guy with the long hair, Doctor Huan or something, and according to him, you've got an hour left in that machine, and then we can go get some lunch. But then he and Dr. Croford got into this huge fight; SHE said that you needed to be in there for at LEAST another three hours, and then HE said that SHE obviously wasn't accustomed to working with the latest medical technology, and then SHE said--"
"They don't seem to get along," Erts said, laughing.
"Nah. But Huan's really nice. He let me stay in here and everything... Oh, that reminds me -- I actually came here for a reason. I need a favor."
With anyone else, it might've felt like he was being used. But it was Zero. It just comes out sounding like that,> Erts thought with amusement, because he never considers anything before letting it go flying out of his mouth.> He could feel the sincerity; it seemed almost inherent that Zero was sincere, because lying simply wouldn't occur to him. "What kind of favor?"
Zero pumped his fist in the air, opened his mouth, and then shut it again. He paused a moment, then started down what was apparently the tactful route. "Well, you see, after you got attacked, things got kinda fuzzy there. And in the end, it was me and Teela and HIEAD who wound up helping you, and that Gareas guy just pissed me off, because I thought he told you he'd protect you, right?"
"It wasn't his fault, you know."
"Well, yeah, but I was upset at the time. So I, like, started yelling at him, and there was a fight..."
"You picked a fight with GAREAS-SAN?!" Erts yelped, and automatically tried to sit up. He banged painfully into the hovering restraint device, and muttered a curse before returning his attention to the topic at hand. "Are you CRAZY? You could've been KILLED!"
"No way," Zero scoffed. "He barely touched me. But I got in trouble. Anyway, now the psychopath guy who took your Repairer hostage--"
"WHAT?!"
"One of the foreign kids. Anyway, my point here is that HIS punishment was being put in a containing cell instead of a room like the other four, and Dr. Rivould decided to make MY room the containing cell instead of giving him, I dunno, the solitary or something." Oblivious to Erts' mental reeling, Zero continued blithely, "So all three of us were just cast out into the hallway! And we can't ALL go to bunk up with Roose and Yamagi; it's going to be tight enough in there with just four, since their room was only designed for two. And I thought, since you're going to have a great big Pilot's room to yourself, maybe you could let me sleep there for a few nights?"
He stared. He couldn't help it. "...sleep... in my room?"
"Yeah. Come on, you know it'll be fun! Like a sleepover." Zero appeared to find the idea perfectly normal. Erts began to wonder if there was something wrong with that for taking the idea and running away with it into the land of uncomfortable and awkward. "Come on! It's this or the hallway, for me," he wheedled.
Erts had not formerly been aware that Zero was in possession of a pair of remarkably convincing puppy dog eyes, but he was now. Self-consciously, the blonde averted his gaze, POSITIVE that this was going to be trouble, but he found himself saying, "Well... all right. Since you're in such a bad situation, I guess there's no harm."
"Great!" Zero exclaimed, pounding his fist on the armrest. "That's perfect. I am so set."
Amused in spite of himself, Erts said, "So, now that we know why you're here, my only question is... HOW are you here?"
"Eh?" The older boy looked confused for a moment. "Oh! Security clearance." Suddenly he beamed cheerfully. "Check it out!" He fidgeted with the jacket for his formal uniform. The Academy seemed to want to go all-out to impress their visitors, if the Candidates were required into the dress outfit. Zero wasn't actually wearing his jacket -- Erts caught a distinct sense of antipathy towards it, in fact -- but he had it slung across the back of his chair.
Suddenly, Zero whipped around and shoved the jacket into Erts' face.
He blinked, and refocused his eyes, and then gasped. "You're--"
"Yep! Second Troop!" Zero crowed proudly. "And the TOP, too! The tournament was only four days ago, but I made it!"
It was impossible. It couldn't be. No one had ever made it so far, so fast. Erts had taken six months to travel from Entry-Level to become the Top, and he had the record; but Zero had only been in GOA for two months and he was already Top of Second Troop. Erts stared disbelievingly at the rank marks, but they didn't change. There were still two of them.
"Let me tell you, it was some chore; Hiead kept trying to get ahead of me every step of the way, the son of a bitch, and Yamagi was right on my heels. But I kept my pace up and it's only another few weeks before I'll be made First Class, Instructor Azuma says, and then Kizna said that I could--"
Erts relaxed his muscles, forcing himself to just listen to Zero instead of thinking about the sheer unlikelihood of what he'd accomplished. Other questions, like 'What does it mean?' and 'How much farther will he go?' and 'Who brought me here?' and 'Are those foreigners related to my dreams somehow?' seemed less and less important as the brunet's friendly chatter washed over him, soothing and comforting to his battered body and strained mind.
Erts didn't notice when he drifted into sleep again, and Zero pretended not to.
Gee, I bet nobody can see where THAT'S going, huh?
But the first person who takes the sleeping arrangement and suggests that I'm going to put Garu/Rio in this fic needs to take the nearest leap into the river of reality, or off the cliff of sanity, or something preferably fatal.