Title: Promise
Summary: Heero is very sick and he tries to hide it from Duo. Duo has vowed never to lose anyone again like Solo, and when he finds out, he will do everything he can to save his friend. But it may be too late, and he may be forced to do the unthinkable.
Author: wild horse
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing; I'm making NO money out of this.
Acknowledgments: Jesus, Padawan Nik-ka, and Nat
a/n: my first GW fic, I guess. so r&r :) if anyone is ooc, I'm sorry, cuz I haven't really watched the anime yet…
Chapter 2:
"Heero?"
"Hn."
"Where are we going now?" Duo was trying to make conversation. It was awfully quiet, with Wufei sleeping in the back seat of the pick-up truck, and Heero typing away at his laptop, and he couldn't stand it any longer. They had left the safe house about half an hour ago, since Heero knew that OZ troops would be searching the nearby areas for the 'terrorists'.
No answer. Dark blue eyes were still fixed on the laptop, studying some schematic diagram.
"Where, Hee-chan?" Duo whined, knowing that it got on the other boy's nerves. "Where?"
There was a long silence.
"Heero?" Duo turned to look at his partner. He had looked away from the computer screen, but his eyes were closed, his face as stern and expressionless as ever. "Heero?" his voice was tinged with some concern, although he tried not to let it show.
Heero shook his head, as though waking from something, then realised Duo had been talking to – or rather at – him. "Hn. Just drive, baka."
Duo grinned at Heero's use of his nickname. He wasn't offended. Any jibes that came his way, he took in his stride, not taking them too personally. It was his responsibility to make people laugh, he felt, or make them so mad they would beat him up. Either way, he knew it helped them relieve the tension of the war, and, as long as it helped, he didn't mind at all.
"But where are we going?" he pressed a little more, wanting to see how far he could go.
"Just shut up, will ya?" Wufei snapped from behind.
"You're supposed to be asleep," Duo retorted, not a good thing to do, but he did it anyway.
Luckily, Wufei was too tired to respond. The last week or so had been really tough, Duo reflected. They had had many missions, mostly 'recon' or bombings to do. He remembered how Heero had come close to being seriously hurt during one of the missions, but had managed to escape with only a few scratches. They were, all of them, under tremendous pressure. They had to do their jobs, and do them well, and Duo knew that everyone was stretched thin, exhausted.
But that's the way it is, he shrugged mentally. There was nothing they could do, except fight, and then fight some more. Duo suspected that even Heero was feeling worn out, even though that seemed impossible enough – Heero was the Perfect Soldier. Maybe that was why Heero was acting weird.
The clicking of the keys had stopped for awhile. Duo turned to look at Heero again.
He was leaning back into the seat, blue eyes closed, chocolate-brown hair falling messily over his forehead, fast asleep. Just to be sure he was really asleep, Duo called his name again, softly, but Heero didn't reply. Duo did notice, however, that a road map, and directions to the safe house, had been helpfully displayed on the laptop.
He took a good look at them, then continued to fix his eyes on the road. He was more relieved that Heero was asleep, even though that meant that he would have no one else to talk to for now.
1300. Five and a half hours later, they had reached the safe house. Heero had insisted on driving the last one hour, so Duo could get some rest.
Heero parked the car in front of the hut, then pushed the door open and stepped out of the truck. On the opposite side, Duo had jumped out of his seat and was already heading for the door, keys in hand. Heero walked stiffly to the back of the truck and retrieved his, and Duo's, duffel bags. The rest of the gear he left in the truck – they would need it soon for the next mission. They had dropped Wufei off on the way here, since he had a solo mission to complete. He would join them again after a few days.
"It's…okay. Better than some we've seen," Duo grinned as his partner entered the hut.
"Hn." Heero tossed the duffel bag to Duo, who caught it neatly. The hut had two rooms, and he chose the nearer of the two, closing the door behind him.
There was just a small bunk with a thin mattress, and shelf above it. Despite the intense headache that threatened to bring him to his knees, he picked up his laptop and stood on tiptoe to place it on the shelf. Then, forcing himself to take his time, he bent down, grabbed his bag from the floor and pushed it onto the shelf as well.
The blood rush was so bad, everything in his vision turned black for a second, then gradually blurred back into existence. He continued standing, pushing away the pain as best he could.
No pain.
He took a deep breath.
It doesn't exist if you don't let it.
He took another breath.
Banish it. It doesn't exist.
He tried.
…doesn't exist…
The world blacked out around him and he collapsed.
It was ten minutes after 1700, the time they were supposed to go through the night's mission requirements. Duo got up from where he had been sitting for the past 15 minutes - watching the door of Heero's room. He frowned a little, because Heero was never late for mission briefings, and he had been shut up inside the room for four hours already.
"Heero?" he hammered on the door, then turned the doorknob, opening the door a notch. "Hee-chan?" Duo peered around the door, and made out the shape of his partner, lying on his bunk.
"Omae o korusu. Go away, I'm not changed yet."
Duo obeyed, and closed the door softly, shrugging to himself.
Inside the room, Heero sat up in bed, still wearing his green tank-top and spandex. He'd lied to Duo, just to get him out of the room – he didn't want Duo to see that he'd overslept. His head still hurt, but less now, thankfully.
He shoved the pain out of his mind. It didn't exist. The mission did.
Pulling on a pair of black jeans and a black T-shirt – it was going to be a night mission – so that it would look as though he had changed, he reached up to take his laptop down from the shelf, then opened the door, blinking in the comparative darkness of the rest of the hut.
"Hi Hee-chan, forget to comb your hair?" Duo teased playfully.
Heero merely glared at him, running a calloused hand through his tousled brown hair, pushing it out of his eyes.
"So, what will we do tonight?" the chestnut-haired boy continued, watching as his partner walked into the main hall of the hut and sat down against one of the bare concrete walls.
"Recon work," Heero was looking down at his laptop now. Typing. Again. Duo suppressed a sigh of resignation and seated himself on the floor opposite Heero.
"Then when will we get to assassinate the Target?"
"Tomorrow, or the day after that."
Duo made a face, which Heero saw out of the corner of his eye but ignored. "What's the plan for tonight, then?" Duo was finally settling down to business.
"Hn. We'll just go, and see…" Heero answered, and he explained the mission details carefully to his partner.
Heero pulled on the thick gloves, then grabbed onto the fence, hoisting himself up. Beside him, Duo was already climbing like a monkey, and had almost reached the barbed-wire part. He waited for Heero, then the two of them swung over the wire, landing softly on the ground inside the OZ base.
Duo's keen eyesight, honed by years of living off the streets, picked out the main building first, and he pointed it out to Heero. Nodding, the brown-haired boy headed towards it, his partner in tow.
It was a cold night, and Duo wished he were wearing something else other than just a T-shirt. Heero, as usual, didn't seem affected by the cold, or, if he were, he wasn't showing it, Duo mused. He watched as Heero pulled out a pair of binoculars and scanned through the row of windows on the first floor. They already had a clue as to where the Target's quarters were, but they had to make sure. Then he passed the binoculars to his partner, for Duo to confirm the position of the Target.
They scouted around the base for the next hour or so, observing sentry movements, building positions, and other details, then they headed back to the safe house.
It was a good one hour walk back from the base to the safe house, about five kilometers or so. They hadn't risked driving there, because the engine noise might've alerted someone.
Now, it was getting colder, and Duo couldn't stop himself from shivering. He turned to look at Heero, to see if he was shivering too, and noticed that his partner had started coughing uncontrollably.
"Hee-chan, are you okay?" he didn't bother to keep the worry from his voice anymore, even though he knew that it would annoy the other boy. He knew Heero didn't get sick, not ever.
"Hn," Heero forced himself to stop coughing, then looked up to meet Duo's worried gaze and shrugged off his friend's concern, "I'm okay." Truth was, he could barely see clearly, and it took a lot of effort to continue walking in a straight line, but he lied and hid the fact from Duo, and himself. He was okay, his training had been tougher than this. As long as he told himself that he was fine, he would be.
"Just checking," Duo grinned. He switched topics, "We're almost there, right?"
"Hn."
"Good. Then we can get out of the cold. It's freezing."
Heero didn't bother to say anything else, knowing that Duo would continue his one-sided conversation with himself and wasn't expecting any answers.
"And then we can get something to eat. I'm hungry."
"Hn."
"And then… oh, okay, we're there," Duo stopped talking for a while as he fished in his pockets for the keys and opened the door to the safe house. On his way in, Heero remembered to grab a few of the Army rations from the back of the truck, and he threw a packet at Duo. There wasn't any kitchen and besides, they hadn't had time to go and buy fresh supplies.
Duo grimaced as he closed the door behind him and sat down on the floor. There was no furniture whatsoever, except for what was in the rooms, but at least, the floor was clean.
"Don't you ever get tired of eating Military rations?" Duo whined a little.
"No," it didn't bother Heero, since he'd been eating them almost all his life.
"For once, couldn't you just say yes? Come on, nobody can love eating military rations," Duo knew this would aggravate his partner.
"Yes."
"Really?" he perked up.
"No," Heero glared at him before opening the packet and starting to eat.
"Okay, suit yourself," Duo shrugged. It wasn't as though he was averse to the idea of eating the rations; he didn't mind it in the least. But it was fun to tease Heero, to see if he would react – which he never did.
When Duo was only halfway through his meal, Heero had already finished, thrown the empty packet away, and gone off to his room.
"See you in the morning," Duo remarked, and got a "hn" for his efforts.
Heero closed the door behind him, sat down on his bunk, flipped up the laptop screen and started composing the mission report for yesterday's bombing of the OZ base. He was irritated with himself for not having done it last night; and he couldn't remember the reason why. It didn't matter, he'd get it done now, then he would deal with the almost continuous headache that refused to go away.
The report was a short one, briefly describing the mission conditions and what had happened. He remembered to put in the part about the fence being electrified, but he didn't say anything about the codes being rejected. He knew it was a failure on his part, a failure he wouldn't make ever again.
He sent off the report then put the laptop away on the shelf. Now he would do something about the headache and the pain. Picking up his duffel from the floor, he retrieved the 20-centimetre long knife.
The headache, the nausea he felt now, all of it wasn't real. It wasn't real pain; he'd been imagining it all this while. It could stop him from completing the mission, so he would get rid of it.
He pulled the knife out of its sheath with his right hand, watching the dull, blackened blade. He closed his eyes for a second, and when they opened, dark-blue eyes were filled with resolve. Then, he clenched his left hand into a fist.
This is what real pain feels like…
Gripping the knife, he pressed the tip into the outside of his lower arm next to his wrist, close to the bone, where there weren't any important blood vessels. Then, he drew it slowly towards him, staring fixedly at his arm, watching as the blade reached down to white bone and the blood began to trickle out of the broken skin. Finally, he lifted the knife away, taking his time to wipe it on a piece of cloth, push it back into the sheath, and place it back in his bag.
Cold, methodical. He looked back at his arm, now bleeding.
This was real pain. Tangible.
He continued to stare, pushing away the pain in his head, the dizziness that he was feeling. There was nothing wrong with him. Nothing. He drew all his attention and focus to the cut on his arm, feeling the pain for a few moments. His fist was clenched so tightly, the knuckles had turned white.
That was the only thing wrong…the pain in his arm.
He pushed it away as well, locking it up in an obscure part of his brain.
Now, there was nothing wrong at all.
The blood was soaking into the white cloth he'd put on his lap, staining it bright red. He could smell the iron-like stench of it, but he didn't allow himself to feel anything. He pressed the cloth against his arm, applying pressure so the cut would close up quickly. Once it did, he reached into his bag again with his other hand and pulled out the first aid kit. He bandaged up his arm, then folded up the stained cloth, placing it on the floor. He'd throw it away later.
No, it was coming back; the throbbing headache. Go away. It doesn't exist.
Shit.
No. Not again. Don't…
He couldn't stop the pain from rebounding back, hitting him full-force in the face and dropping him unconscious onto his bunk.
Duo Maxwell shifted uneasily in his bunk. He was used to the hardness, and partly, to the cold, but he was unsettled by Heero's recent behaviour. For the past few hours, he'd been lying awake, listening to the occasional bouts of coughing from the room next to his.
It seemed that Heero wasn't very well, he might even be quite sick.
Duo sighed. He knew he would be inviting trouble if he broached the subject with his partner. But he was Duo Maxwell, he could at least try.
Half-satisfied with the conclusion he'd come to, he tried to get back to sleep.
TBC…