I don't own Gundam Wing or Shinigami-kun. I'm too poor for that sort of thing.
*****
The isotubes.
Out of all the non-biological creations of Black Hood, the isotubes were the only good idea of the whole lot. Dulcet snarled and lit another cigarette, his fourth in the last hour. He was angry with everything; the Bond, the plague, Black Hood and himself for rekindling a bad habit he thought he had kicked at least five years ago. Watching the row of three wide, clear plastic tubes, he sucked angrily at his cigarette and forced smoke out his nostrils. Damn Black Hood. Damn them all.
The isotubes was created for "freaks" fitted with plugs who sustained life-threatening injuries -such as those normally gotten in the Ring- to recuperate and heal. Originally they had been created for Black Hood use only, but when Dulcet was cast from the Black Hood inner circle, he took the blueprints with him. Black Hood knew the Keep had them and had staged many raids in the past to get the plans back, but to no avail. The Keep itself was a veritable maze, and even Walker, who had spent most of his life roaming the great stone halls, had not seen all of it. And there were also the Gateways with their unlimited paths to other worlds to consider. Black Hood couldn't simply come out and demand the blueprints return, for to do so would be an almost outright admission of their attempts at playing with creation, which would be like suicide in their position, so they had no choice but to attack. Meanwhile, three isotubes had been created and another one was in the works. Normally the Keep was opposed to Black Hood inventions, but since the raids had begun and the Federation for Human Purity was becoming bolder and bolder, the isotubes seemed to be in almost constant use.
Angrily, Dulcet stubbed out his cigarette –now reduced to a sad, stumpy butt- and reached into the pocket of his lab coat for another. Walker was the only using a 'tube today. Tama had found him earlier that evening, half-dead on the floor of his apartments when he failed to come down into the dining hall for supper. His wings hung in shreds –they still did, though now they were being held together with sutures and surgical tresses- and his clothing had been rent to shreds from his desperate clawing at hallucinated monsters only he could see and hear. Deep gashes in and near his eyes showed mute testament to what he had done when the monsters had refused to leave him. Blood was flowing freely from Walker's body when Tama found him, burbling from a deep, yawning gouge where the sentient plague had fought against him, lost interest for some reason, and eventually retreated back into his body while black streamers of plague writhed gleefully under his skin.
Walker floated now within the drug and DNA fluid cocktail of the artificial tube of the isotube. His body was curled into the fetal position, his face all but lost beneath a breathing mask, tubes and wires branching from the dozens of plugs implanted all over his body like extended veins. One of the Bhaarliad nurses had thoughtfully wound a dark bolt of cloth around Walker's loins, though which nurse had done it and where the cloth had come from was anyone's guess. Watching him hang so motionlessly, Dulcet took a hard drag off his cigarette, knowing full well it wasn't the smoke that was making his eyes water.
"Dr. Anderman?" a timid voice behind the lynx-man made him whirl around, his hand flying to the gun he wore under his pristine lab coat. Amy Gagneir, Walker's girlfriend, jerked back, doelike eyes wide with fear. Cursing, Dulcet backed off and stubbed out his smoke.
"Sorry," he apologised, glad his thick fur could hide the blush he could feel creeping up his cheeks. Amy didn't notice, her gaze riveted to the inert figure in the isotube. Of course. Dulcet gave himself a hard mental slap. The last time Walker was in a 'tube was after the Day of Agony. She's never seen him like this. Still, he had to give the girl credit; though her eyes were wide, her hands remained steady and her carriage stayed erect.
"It's okay." She reminded Dulcet so much of his late daughter. How old would Lindsay be now? Dulcet pondered this for a moment and was sickened to find he couldn't remember.
"He's so still," whispered Amy. She was staring at Walker and worrying something on her left hand. Dulcet peered closer and caught the pure sparkle of gold. Ah, yes, the promise ring Walker had given Amy for her twentieth birthday. Because of the plague, Walker had no choice but to remain celibate, lest the plague pass itself along to someone else –namely Amy. But so adamant was Walker that he would make Amy his bride some day that he decided he could easily wait for the end of time for the plague to lift from his body so he could wed his Amy. Amy felt the same, swearing she would wait forever is she had to.
Sniffling at Dulcet's side made him look over. Amy had not moved, but her eyes were wet and every few seconds she let out the tortured gasp of one who is trying desperately not to cry. Dulcet moved closer to her, cut to the heart by her sadness, and pulled her close into a tight hug.
"It's okay, it's okay, shhhh, don't cry," Dulcet murmured, rubbing Amy's back as the dam broke and she began to sob. "Remember the Change, Amy. This hell will be over after the Change."
"I know," she sobbed, her entire frame shaking. "But why does he have to suffer like this?"
"I don't know, honey." Dulcet said. "I wish I did, but I don't."
Walker was a mage. Unlike wizards –which, in comparison, are a dime a dozen- he used more than one type of power, whereas wizards normally specialise in one or two specific types, dabble a bit in a few others, and say buggerall to the rest of them. Wizards are also normally born, discovered and trained, period. But Walker, like all mages at one time or another, had one more step left to go that wizards do not go through: the Change. The one thing all mages throughout the annals of recorded time and before had to endure. The Change is an opening of the mage's body, mind and soul to receive his or her full power. If the mage is not fully trained before this event, then death is always immediate. But the Change is unpredictable. To some mages it brought radical physical changes to others it brought none. Some changed hair colour, others changed facial features or eye colour, still others were given wings or tails while others changed everything altogether. The four wizards had calculated what they could of Walker's Change and, though they had no way of telling when it would take place or what he would look like after, they did know that Walker would poses the approximate power of a demigod.
"Is he in pain?" Amy whispered, her voice muffled by Dulcet's lab coat.
"No." It was a fact that both hurt and relieved Dulcet to say. He was glad Walker could feel no pain, lulled into a deep, dreamless slumber by a cocktail of powerful drugs. But it was the thought of when Walker would wake that made Dulcet's stomach clench. He would be disoriented, scared and confused. His wilder instincts would cause him to throw himself against his clear plastic prison and struggle against the tubes and cables that were at the moment the only things keeping him alive.
"Come." Dulcet took Amy by the shoulders and began to lead her to the door. "The machines are self-regulating. Let's go somewhere where we can go and talk, okay?"
"Okay," Amy said, wiping her eyes. She looked over her shoulder at Walker. "Just a sec." Pulling herself from Dulcet's grasp, she went back to the row of isotubes and lay her palms against the faintly vibrating plastic. Gently, she lay a kiss on it. "I love you," she whispered, stroking the surface sadly. Brushing at her eyes, Amy went back to Dulcet, who simply watched and said nothing. "Okay," she said, her voice a little bit stronger. "Let's go."
*****
"Heero?"
The Perfect Soldier looked up from his trigonometry homework to see Relena standing in the doorway of the bedroom he and Duo shared, the light coming in from the hallway behind her giving her hair and skin an almost unearthly glow.
"Hn?"
"I'm having some dinner now," she said softly. "Would you like some?"
With the advent of Walker's latest attack, Belle and Gil had gone off to the Keep as soon as they heard of it, which had left the issue of dinner a bit up in the air. Heero shrugged one shoulder and followed Relena into the kitchen. The wide oaken table was set with places for two with a lightly steaming pot of something in the centre. The overhead light was on, but it did very little to dispel the pitch-blackness outside.
"It's not much in the way of presentation, I'm afraid," Relena apologised, gesturing at the pot of Kraft Dinner on the table. "But I couldn't think of anything much better to make."
"Hn." Not even glancing at the food, Heero pulled out his normal chair and sat down.
Nervously, Relena sat in the seat across from him. "Trowa and Wufei are doing their homework upstairs, Quatre's playing with Shinigami-kun, and Duo's still at Misty's place," Relena said, trying in vain to dispel the thick, choking silence that had draped itself over the kitchen. She was wringing her napkin like she expected clots of blood to drip from it.
"And Cathy's still at work, I know." Poker-faced, Heero dished himself some macaroni and cheese and woodenly began to eat.
"Yes. Right." Relena bit her lip. "Um…Heero?"
"Hn?"
"You know the semi-formal coming up?"
"Yeah?" He put down his fork, his face still blank. Around them the darkness seemed to seep its way through the windows and close unpleasantly around them.
"I…" To her surprise, Relena found her hands were actually shaking. "Craig Folett asked me to go with him."
"Oh?"
She closed her eyes "I told him yes."
The scrape of Heero's chair made Relena open her eyes again, but by this time the Perfect Soldier, his face dead, his body rigid, was already leaving the kitchen.
"Heero?"
The soft click of his bedroom door closing was the only reply she got.
"Heero…I'm so sorry," was all Relena could say before she threw herself into his chair and let the wrenching sobs steal over her.
*****
"Two men," Zach groaned, circling the two unmoving shapes on the cool stone floor, the very same that Relena, Cathy and the ex-pilots had lain on not more than a month prior. Now the four wizards stood there, watching the two still forms lying there. Zach shook his head and circled the two men again. "All this shit for two bloody men."
Talon ran his fingers through his hair. "Indeed." With the toe of his boot, he prodded one of the men, a youngish man with glasses and dirty-blond hair. "How are the descriptions going?" He asked of Nat and Gil.
"So far, this one's pretty normal." Gil flipped back in his notebook. "Caucasian male, looks to be about 5'7", tanned skin, late twenties to early thirties, dirty-blond hair, glasses, khakis, running shoes, grey sweater." He shook his head. "Can't get much more typical than that."
"At least you got the normal one." Rolling his eyes, Nat began to read from his own notebook. "Caucasian male, between 6'1" and 6'3", early to late twenties, pallid complexion, long black hair of the smelly, greasy variety, long dirty black coat, heavy-soled combat boots, and filthy black jeans and T-shirt." He shuddered. "You'd think he'd try bathing once in a while."
"We're not here to critique their hygiene." Talon said, impatiently tapping his foot. "I need this report ASAP. What about weapons?"
Gil held up his hands. "Mine's clean, save for a braided anklet thingy and a wedding ring."
Nat showed the other men a long dagger, its blade dyed matte black. "It's got some sort of weird enchantment I can't place on it. He's also wearing some sort of pendant, but it's clean. Probably from some sort of fake-ass cult he made up himself." As on man, the wizened old men cast a distasteful look at the young man in black. "We'll have to keep an eye on this one."
"Mmmh," Zach nodded. "Get them off to a sleeping room. We can deal with them later."
*****
Knock, knock.
"Come in."
Belle entered Heero and Duo's bedroom, shutting the door gently behind her. Heero was sitting in his usual ramrod straight posture on his bed, eyes trained on a book in his lap, though it was clear he was not even looking at the words. He looked up as Belle got to him and drew back her hand and but he made not move to stop her as she struck him hard across the face.
"What were you thinking!?" the previously sweet-faced woman shouted. Heero said nothing and leaned over to get his book, which had fallen out of his lap. Heero's face remained blank as usual, but his sapphire eyes blazed like cold fire. Belle's own mahogany eyes sparked in kind. "I come home after an absolutely nerve-wracking evening only to find an absolutely distraught girl sobbing her eyes out in her bedroom. A girl whose pain is so great that I felt it coming up the damn driveway!" She stopped and took a deep breath. "What have you done?"
Heero's eyes narrowed slightly before returning to their previous state of emotional emptiness. "Nothing."
Belle's hand twitched at her side, but she managed to stay it. "Don't lie to me boy. You know full well I can tell. There's something unresolved between you two."
"I don't like her."
"Bullshit!" Belle spat the word like it was poisonous. "Even Quatre can tell the attraction's mutual with all the raging hormones flying all over the place."
Still silent, Heero stood and walked to the window, looking out into the night sky. Belle strode swiftly to his side. "Don't you dare turn your back to me when I am speaking to you." The ageless woman's voice was like frosted steel.
"Leave me alone."
"Relena is sitting down the hall sobbing into Kari's shoulder and all her dire thoughts are bleeding all over the house. I am not going to just sit and let this pass, Heero Yuy! Her grief is too great for that."
"So?"
"So?! Heero, she is convinced that you hate her." Belle grabbed his by the shoulder. "Relena's heart is screaming to hold you, boy! Her thoughts about you are so strong, they're giving Quatre a panic attack in the next room over!"
"So?" Heero wrenched his shoulder from Belle's surprisingly strong grip and rounded on her, blue eyes clashing against brown. "I'm not her keeper."
Tears began to well in Belle's eyes. "You're so cruel, child."
"Yeah." Heero shrugged. "Deal with it."
This time he caught Belle's wrist before she could strike him again.
"She has her own life and I have mine," he continued. "And it doesn't include her."
"She has a name, boy!" Belle snapped.
"So do I," Heero snarled back.
Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Belle calmed herself before going on. She was shouting, an act that could make Relena's pathos even worse. Though she hated to do it, Belle decided to pull out the big guns. "Do you even know what Relena's thinking, Heero?"
"You told me, didn't you?" he said, turning away again to look out the window.
"She's remembering, Heero. She remembers all the times you tried to die, all the times you hurt yourself or let yourself become vulnerable." With a mental finger placed gently on the pulse of Heero's mind, Belle noticed a slight tightening within him. Boldly, she plunged on. "She remembers the times you tried to kill her and the times you threatened her. And through all these memories, Relena recalls most of all how she still held on to the faint hope that you still felt for her like she feels for you." Taking another deep breath, Belle sat on Duo's bed, her slender fingers smoothing the wrinkles from his rumpled sheets. And now she thinks she had hoped all for nothing. Relena wants nothing more than to curl up and die. Kari and the boys are with her and all she can do is sob and ask why she's even here."
Heero didn't turn from the window. "I don't care."
Belle's cool, tinkling laugh made Heero half turn. "Your mouth say one thing, little boy, but your mind says quite the opposite."
Whirling, Heero buried his fist into the panel wall. "Stay out of my mind!!" he screamed.
"Then how else can I understand what pain it is you feel?" Belle darted in and wrapped Heero's shoulders in a tight hug. Heero, too stunned to react, did nothing. "I know its strange to you, but I love you, you silly, stupid little boy," Belle said fondly. Reaching up, she placed a kiss on the Perfect Soldier's cheek. "Relena loves you, too." She smiled. "And I know you love her just as much, if not more. Go to her, Heero. Let her take you in." Slowly, slowly, Heero's arms curled loosely around her slim waist, though his eyes remained barren. Belle smiled into his shirt. "Tell me, Heero. What troubles you?"
"It…" Scowling, Heero struggled with his words. Death threats were one thing, but spilling his guts was quite another. "…hurts," he finished lamely.
Gently, Belle reached up and kissed him on the forehead before leading him to sit on the floor with her. She reached out to touch his temples, but the Perfect Soldier jerked away. "Please, child. Let me see where it hurts."
Heero hesitated a moment, every fibre of his training screaming against being in this potentially compromising position, before leaning forward and letting Belle touch him.
"Relax," she crooned softly. "Let me mould myself into you."
Slowly, the Perfect Soldier's eyes unfocused and he slumped forward as the ageless psionicist found a sturdy mental handhold and eased herself deep within the consciousness of Heero Yuy.
*****
The shower knob squeaked slightly as Relena twisted the water off, letting the last hot, tiny trickles drip onto the back of her hand.
So that would be the end of it, then? she thought to herself. Kari and the others had long since managed to calm her down and –after shooing the boys away, thank goodness- Kari had all but stripped Relena down herself and chucked her into the downstairs bathroom with the stern order to take a shower. The Former-Vice Foreign Minister of the Earth-Sphere Alliance wrapped herself in a towel that had long ago had its fuzziness worn away. Okay, so perhaps she felt a tiny bit better, but the thought of having to see Heero again and having to go to the semi-formal with that repulsive jerk Craig Folett made her stomach churn with burning guilt and disgust.
How did I let that pompous ass railroad me into going with him? Relena sighed, allowing her mind to trail back to her politician days when she could say easily "no" to anyone. The days long past in which when she said no, it remained as such, instead of becoming "Oh, alright!" after a litany of "Come on! Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleeeeease!!!!
Those were the days.
Next time I see Craig I'm going to tell him I changed my mind. Relena lifted her chin defiantly. Hah! Just as quickly as it came, the good feeling rushed away as Relena perused her options. And then what? Movie night? Ice cream feast? She sighed and wandered towards the room she shared with Cathy and Kari. Maybe Shinigami-kun plays checkers. At least the mental picture of the little reaper wrapping his arms around his pieces and labouring them across the checkerboard was somewhat cheering, if not a little bit disconcerting.
Idly rubbing her hair with another towel, Relena made it to her darkened room and shut the door, not bothering with the light. The moon was full that night and it gave her all the light she needed. Cathy was still at work and Kari was off somewhere, probably with Trowa. A twinge of hot envy stabbed momentarily at Relena, but she brushed it off. Who was she to complain about someone else's happiness?
"Ooh, man," Relena groaned. What a shitty day. She thought briefly of what her dear brother Zechs would say to her use of such strong language and smiled in spite of herself. He'd probably be shocked to learn his dear, sweet Queen of the World even knew such words existed. Of course, then Noin would probably brief him on some other more colourful language and probably make his ears bleed. Relena found she no longer thought of her past life with crushing sadness or regret, but rather with warm fondness, even though it had only been a month. Correctly, she guessed that this was Belle's doing and made a quick mental note to ask her about it later.
Sighing, Relena dropped her towel and, totally nude, flicked on the light. Tomorrow she would march right up to Craig Folett and tell him right to his face not only what she thought of him, but also where he could put that damned "date" of theirs. Tonight, however, Relena decided she was going to try and relax, paint her nails, put on some soft, sexy music and curl up with a sappy romance novel she would otherwise not be caught dead with.
It was when she was trying to find her nail file that she happened to glance over at her bed and see the splash of vibrant colour on her pillow. A soft gasp escaped her lips as she rushed to it and picked up a small, clear plastic box containing a delicate blue corsage, pulled off the little envelope that was taped to it and read what was inside:
Relena, it said in Heero's familiar nondescript handwriting. Save a dance for me? Heero.
A huge grin spread itself across Relena's lovely face. Grabbing her towel and snatching her agenda book from her bed table, she sprinted barefoot into the hall, wrapping herself in the towel as she went. Quickly she hurried into the kitchen, where the stone cold remains of her disastrous dinner with Heero was slowly crusting to the pot. Quatre was nearby on the phone with his physics homework open on his lap.
"…and then you convert the trinomials…yeah, like that and-" He looked up at the sound of Relena's bare foot slapping impatiently on the wood floor. The Gentle Noble's face turned flaming red as he saw her dripping, towel-clad form. "Uh, hi, Relena."
"Can I use the phone?" Relena opened her agenda, flipping for a particular phone number. "I only need it for a couple of minutes."
After Quatre had quickly hung up and fled the room –all while staring intently at the floor- Relena picked up the receiver and dialled the number.
One ring.
Two rings.
Three rings.
Click. "Hello?"
Taking a deep breath, Relena began. "Hello, Craig? It's about the dance…"
*****
I think I can safely say this chapter is much better than the last one. Do tell me what you think!Happy Turkey Day, minna-san!
--L.P.D. *//.^*