Disclaimer: "Haven't we danced this waltz before?" I don't own Gundam Wing and never will.
A/N: Sorry for the delay everyone. I hope you enjoy the next chapter (it took me long enough to finish didn't it?)!
Love and Betrayal
Chapter Five:
Duo scratched his head skeptically as he gazed at the delicate figure of Midii Une lying sprawled across the hospital bed. "Haven't we danced this waltz before?" he asked, taking a deep intake of breath and putting his hands on his hips. The room was crowded with all five of the pilots and Sally Po. Each of them was anxious to hear why little miss trouble had decided to up and run. Sally looked around at the group, irritated.
"You can't all be in here at once," she demanded, wiping her sweating palms on her lab coat. Sally had a thing for small cramped spaces…she couldn't stand them, or at least not when she could get out of them. "Duo, why don't and the others wait outside? I think Heero is quite capable of managing the interrogations on his own, don't you think?" she said, trying desperately to remain calm.
"B-B-But…" Duo protested, his bottom lip quivering for effect. Sally looked at him sternly with a 'don't-mess-with-me-right-now' look gleaming viciously in her eyes. Wu Fei and Quatre quickly retreated through the open doorway, not wanting to infuriate the physician. Sally was not one to play games with, especially not when she had home team advantage.
"You sound like a motor boat Maxwell," Sally stated, her eyes still intently fixed on him.
"But she hit me!" Duo finally spat, his braid swinging gently.
"I understand that. But I don't frankly care," she stated, taking a step threateningly toward him, fists clenched. "This is my hospital room and my patient and what I say goes. Now get the hell out of this room!" Reluctantly he turned and sulked out of the doorway. As soon as the door clicked into it's frame, Sally turned to the two remaining pilots.
"Alright," she began as she started to once again clean the bullet hole that had pierced so precisely into Midii's tender flesh. They had long ago removed the silver bullet from her chest, and it now lie floating in a jar of rubbing alcohol next to the bed. "Tell me again what happened."
"It's just like we said before," Heero grumbled from his usual corner.
"Humor me," Sally said, brushing the hair away tenderly from the younger girls pain-contorted face. She had always had a soft spot for those less fortunate than herself. Heero sighed deeply.
"We were out searching for her and decided to split up. While Trowa and I were covering the Northern district, we heard Miss Une from an alleyway. She was obviously having quite a disagreement from the sounds and looks of it. I suppose it was nothing more then a jealous lover."
Trowa winced. He hadn't thought that Midii might have been involved with anyone. He had always hoped, deep down, that after they went their separate ways that she had sealed herself off from anyone else, just like he had. A protective barrier that only one another could penetrate.
Of course she would have found someone else to look out for her! he scolded himself as he stared longingly at the figure beneath the thin hospital sheets. She was so alone…she needed someone, she needed you…but you weren't there. Trowa's nails tore into his palms as he clenched his fist tightly. He had wanted to stay with her so much, but after what she had done, he just couldn't… But she had to have changed since then. Maybe now they could be together like he had always dreamed in all those sleepless nights during the war. That is, if she could ever forgive him for leaving her in the first place. All he needed was her forgiveness…
"I'm sorry…" he mouthed under his breath. Sally had just finished checking all of her wounds and was now looking up hopefully at the two of them.
"Well now," she said, dusting her hands energetically. "Trowa, I think you had better leave now; we don't want Miss Une frightened by a crowded room of people when she wakes up do we?" Trowa shook his head silently, resisting the urge to refuse and stay planted where he was. But he knew that if Midii saw him when she first awoke, nothing would be accomplished.
He stood wordlessly, removing his jacket from the back of the chair and resting his hand on the doorknob. He hesitated for a minute, ambiguity coursing through his veins. Finally, he slipped through the doorway, just as quietly as if he had never left at all.
Through the doorway he listened as Sally began making her rounds, turning off machines and checking various gadgets situated throughout the undersized room. "Alright," she spoke to Heero as she herself began to leave, I'll leave you to see why Miss Une was out gallivanting in the very beginning."
Alexia came down the stairs of the belfry sulking. She was not looking forward to today's chores. Her bottom was still sore from yesterday's beating from coming home late. She hugged her flute closer to her chest. She was glad her mother hadn't found out about her run in with the Preventers, or that would have been another ten smart smacks. She massaged her eyes, rubbing out the sleep and small grains of sand hiding in the corner.
As she reached the bottom of the steps she could hear the bacon sizzling in a pan on the stove. Her stomach tightened with hunger, as it hadn't had any dinner the night before.
Cautiously she inched her way down the steps, praying that the wooden boards wouldn't creak on her way down. When she reached the kitchen, she looked at her mother hopefully.
Her slender figure was hunched over the table, carefully studying the day's work. As she shuffled through the stacks of assorted sheets of music, applications and papers, wisps of black hair fell quietly about her face. Hearing her daughter shuffling softly in front of her, she peeked at her from beneath her dark lashes. "Good morning," she crooned softly, brushing the hair away from her sparkling cerulean eyes. "I hope you slept well."
Alexia nodded stiffly, taking a seat at the small oak table. Her mother stood and silently walked over toward the stove. Alexia's mouth watered as her mother piled a plate full of bacon, eggs and toast. Her eyes widened as her mother neared the table and stopped just out of reach. Tauntingly she held up a piece of bacon and popped it into her mouth.
Alexia moaned with hunger. She reached out for the plate of food but didn't dare leave her seat for fear that her mother would take it away. She knew this game well, and if she played correctly, she would be having breakfast in a few minutes.
"Now…" her mother began waving the plate in front of her daughter. "Is there something you want to tell me?" Alexia's hands clasped the edges of the chair tightly. So then she did know…
"I ran into two Preventers yesterday," she squeaked quietly, reverting her gaze from her mother's face. "When I was trying to come home…"
"And?" her mother prodded, picking out another piece of bacon. Alexia looked at her hesitantly.
"And I almost lost my flute as well, but the tall one with green eyes found it for me." Her mother nodded, setting the plate in front of her daughter. Alexia plunged into the food hungrily, not even bothering to use the utensils beside her plate. Her mother smiled contently.
"Lexi dear, you know we can't keep secrets from one another." Alexia nodded guiltily. She wiped the eggs from the side of her mouth. Pulling a chair up next to her daughter, she hugged her close. "All we have is each other. But with our line of business I can't afford to worry about you all of the time. We'd be dead within an hour."
Alexia snuggled closer to her mother, the soft scent of the winter snow clinging to her clothing.
"Yes ma'am," she answered lazily. Her mother shook her slightly.
"It's time to go to work," her mother cooed softly, plucking her daughter from her lap and rushing to clear the table of its unorganized clutter.
Alexia gazed at her mother, her fluid and graceful movements as she cleaned up the dainty kitchen.
Reluctantly Alexia pulled her massive overcoat around her shoulders and wrapped her scarf around her neck. Slinging a pair of battered binoculars over her scarf, she grabbed her flute and headed for the doorway. As she left, she felt a gentle hand rest upon her delicate shoulder.
Her mother turned the small girl around, knelt and engulfed her daughter in a loving embrace.
"Remember," she whispered quietly into her ear. "Be careful. It's a dangerous world out there, full of conniving backstabbers and unsought threats." All we have left is each other. Trust no one."
And with that, she shoved her daughter out the door, and into the harsh reality of oncoming winter.
Heero Yuy massaged his forehead with the heal of his hand. Though the room was comfortably situated at 32° C, small beads of perspiration clung to the underneath of his unruly brown hair.
Midii Une slouched forward, twitching a strand of hair frivolously around her index finger. Her eyes glistened with hints of defiance and shone with pure contempt.
"Miss Une please…" Heero stressed, attempting to control the anxious and growing urge to strangle the young woman. "Would you just tell us why you left the medical compound in the first place?"
Her eyes scanned his figure quickly. He was still rigid and unmoving, eyes like shards of ice. And yet, over the past hour, his fingertips had become considerably whiter. Not to mention that his voice, though still monotonous to the untrained ear, seemed tinged with unfamiliar impatience.
Midii slid from her perch on the bed, and arched her back as she stretched her arms above her head. Yet suddenly a pain shot through her side. She grimaced slightly and clutched the bed for support. Heero gazed at her, his eyes sneering smugly.
She took a deep and rattled breath, propped herself again on top of the cotton sheets and continued to twist a new strand of hair around her finger. "As I've told you countless times before Mr. Yuy, I needed to get away."
Heero nearly threw his hands up into the air in defeat. Her stubborn and insolent attitude pushed him close to the brink of insanity. He had yet to have her string ten different words together, minus the one phrase she had been so persistent in repeating for the past hour. Though his physical appearance remained unchanged, his insides were a whirlwind of mass chaos.
"So you've said before ," he said, beginning the deadly cycle once again. "And you have yet to tell me what it was exactly in which you had felt you had to get away from." He rubbed his temples. "From what it looks like from my perspective is that you were in fact not running away from something, But in actuality you were running to someone…"
Midii's head snapped to the side indignantly and tendrils of her hair fell like a curtain around her face. "You have no idea what I'm running from…" she muttered faintly.
But Heero caught the muffled words along with the taint of guilt they carried. He sighed inwardly, closed his eyes for a moment and left the room silently, leaving the riotous girl to her own devices.
Heero clicked to door shut behind him, leaning against the heavy metal doorway. He snatched the coffee Duo held in his hands greedily. His eyes burned. He was never in the mood for his patience to be toyed with, and today was no exception.
"She proving to be too much of a challenge for ya, ol' buddy?" Duo crooned cheerfully, filling himself another mug of the chocolaty brown liquid. "Or are you simply losing your touch?" Heero's gaze was like daggers, and Duo quickly sulked away, nosily sipping his coffee.
"I just can't get anything out of her," Heero grumbled, slamming the now empty cup on the marbled ledge. "It's as if she's been programmed to repeat the same thing over and over." He folded his arms across his chest and inhaled deeply. "But I think I struck a nerve."
Duo perked up from his seat in the corner, desperately resisting the urge to crack a joke. His eyes twinkled mischievously, and a slight smirk inched its way across his features.
"When I mentioned the fact that she seemed to be running away from something…" Heero let the subject hang for a minute, attempting to find the correct words to describe the situation.
"But what would she have to run away from?" Quatre piped quietly, his hands clasped together and gaze directed toward the linoleum-tiled floor. Heero pried an eye open, gazing at Trowa from beneath a hooded expression.
"Care to answer Trowa?"
Immediately, five sets of eyes rested on the silent figure lurking in the corner. Trowa's stomach lurched, his voice dying in his throat. He watched them from beneath the obscured view of his bangs. His jaw line tightened as he lifted his head to face Heero directly.
"No."
The room shuffled slightly, the tension thick enough to cut with Deathscythe's blade. Gazes of uncertainty became fixed on the Heavyarms pilot.
But Heero's eyes gleamed with a shade of amusement, his usual sneer upturned into a slight smirk. Trowa stood and gaited toward the doorway. Heero moved away from the door, brushing past the other pilots shoulder. "I don't know what your connection is with her," he whispered inaudibly so only the two of them could hear. "But you can't hide it forever. You should know from experience that things kept hidden can only lead to disaster." Trowa's head twitched slightly, a faint nod, and entered the small room.
The room was dim, the blinds drawn and the only light emitted coming from a small florescent lamp hanging from the ceiling. Midii Une sat perched on the corner of the small hospital cot, fiddling with the bandages around her arm. As she heard the door click into it's frame, she smiled inwardly to herself. Heero Yuy may have gotten an un-programmed answer out of her earlier, but she was poised and ready for round two. She had long since perfected this game, and it wasn't likely she would be the one to first crack.
"Back so soon Mr. Yuy?" she hummed, making every attempt to twine her voice with mockery. "You can interrogate me as much and as long as you wish, but as I've told you before-"
"Midii…" Trowa whispered quietly, her name hanging on his lips. The fragile figure froze, her arms dropping to her side. Midii's eyes opened wide, her breath becoming caught and short. She spun around swiftly, ignoring the pain that rocketed through her body. Their eyes met for the first time in eight years. And though in her mind she thought she would melt at that very sight of him, Midii Une's heart, as well as her entire figure froze over with intense hatred and disgust.
"Get out…" she breathed heavily, swinging her legs around to the front of her. As he made no motion to leave, she repeated herself, voice injected with more detestation and rage then before. "I said get out." Her chest heaved.
"Midii, I can't do that." he spoke calmly, taking a chair in the corner of the room. He let his eyes run over her petite figure, taking in her curves and the lines that began to etch themselves into her distraught visage.
"And why not?" she growled angrily. "You seem to be very good at leaving." Trowa winced slightly, yet not enough for her to notice in the poorly lit room.
"Why are you here Midii?" Trowa questioned, drawing on every ounce of his energy not to run up to her and embrace her withering figure. Midii smiled arrogantly, swinging her legs over the edge of the cot and narrowing her eyes slightly.
"So I take it Mr. Yuy had to send in his reinforcements?" she derided, sniggering to herself.
"Why are you here Midii?" he repeated, forcing his voice to remain monotonous and unfeeling. His heart lurched at her bitter responses and chilling gestures. He had meant to ask for her forgiveness, but…she was doing nothing more than causing him to resurface painful memories he had long ago buried in the bowels of his character.
"You tell me Nanashi," she spat tartly, the use of his previous calling in the form of a true name. She took a deep breath, her eyes like knives. "Shouldn't I be dead by now?" Trowa dug his nails into his arm in order to control the temper that began to swell inside him. She knew exactly what buttons to push, and she wasn't making any omissions in his case. All he wanted was her forgiveness, he reminded himself avidly.
"You should be. God knows enough people have tried to kill you. Now I want to know why they wanted you dead." Midii let a wily smile grace her lips. She knew exactly how to get into his inner workings. She wanted him to suffer, suffer just as she had.
"But I'm no use to anyone alive," she snapped, her fingers entwining themselves in the sheets. Trowa's face turned white, his chest heaving slightly.
"Stop that," he growled, forgetting to mask the anger playing in his voice. "Stop attempting to make me feel guilt-ridden for the past. You made your choice and I made mine. The past doesn't matter anymore. Now are you going to cooperate or not?" Midii scowled, her plan for quick revenge instantly beginning to fall through. Her grip tightened.
"Why would I want to cooperate with you?" she retorted, her cheeks becoming slightly flushed and heated. Her fingers left the mess of twisted sheets to caress the gold chain dangling around her neck. "That requires trust does it not? And as I recall, we've run out of that, haven't we, Nanashi?"
Trowa rose from his seat. "My name is Trowa now," he spoke, taking a threatening step toward her. "I have a name, don't you call me that any longer."
"Feh," Midii snorted, her head snapping away from the pilot. "How dare you claim that name? A name is something given to you…something given to you by family." She gazed back at the young boy in front of her, a sneer rising on her lips. "But you never had one of those did you?" she crooned heatedly, the hatred radiating from her smile.
Trowa stood rigid, his knuckles and fingertips now white. "And what about your family Midii?" he questioned, playing into her noxious game. "What ever happened to them?"
Her expression slowly melted. Her eyes lost half their spite, glazing over with the memory of gun smoke, sulfur and blood. She grasped the end of her necklace, running her fingers erratically over the gold cross hanging on the end. As Trowa witnessed her pained expression, her almost wished he could take back his acrimonious words. Almost. "That's…That's none of your business," she breathed, eyes flaming.
"Oh, but my past is seems to be your business," he retorted spitefully. He shifted weight to his other leg.
"Our pasts have always been intertwined." she groped, momentarily forgetting her mission and the entire purpose of her stay at Preventer Headquarters.
"You say that as if it were an awful thing." Midii gazed at him somewhat ruefully.
"Don't you realize the cruel twist of irony?" she mouthed breathlessly, the strain of countless examinations beginning to take it's toll on her fatigued figure. "I've dreaded you ever since that day, when in reality…" she looked down at the floor, the room beginning to spin slightly. "I've become you."
Trowa gazed at her quizzically, an eyebrow expertly arched. She smiled dizzily. "Don't you understand Nanashi?" she questioned, disregarding his earlier request. "I've become the empty soldier you once prided yourself on being. I am the one who has lost everything while you…" she grasped the side of the bed for support. "You are now the one who has a reason for fighting. You are now the one who is filled with things."
Trowa's expression softened. "Midii…" he whispered quietly making his way toward the shaking figure. "That man in the alley…"
Midii's mind was spinning along with the contents of the room. Everything was quickly blurring into a mad pallet of color. She took a deep, her frame quivering. "He was my support…" she answered, remembering her long forgotten script. "He was the only one I had left to turn to. There was no point to my life anymore, yet…he forced me to keep waking up every morning. But when he got tired of me, I guess…"
Trowa brushed his finger against her trembling lips, silencing her forced speech. He sat next to her on the cot, allowing her head to rest wearily on his broad shoulder. "And the mobile suit?" he questioned quietly. Midii let her eyelids drop slowly, her lashes and hot breath brushing lightly against the nape of his neck.
"Just another way to survive I suppose," she replied tiredly. "A war's coming Nanashi…" she whispered quietly, skewing from her assigned speech. "It was the only way I could…it was the only way I could think of to meet…"
Again, Trowa brushed a finger against her lips, silencing her. Her wrapped an arm tenderly around her slender waist , running his fingers through the silky strands of her hair. He bent down to kiss the golden locks affectionately.
"I think you should leave." Midii drawled sleepily, her voice all the same reflecting the same sternness it had earlier. Reluctantly, Trowa pulled away from her fragile body, lying her gently on the cot and covering her with the thin sheet. He gazed at the sleeping figure, wordlessly vowing to never let her go again.
Trowa exited the room quietly