There hasn't been a whole lot of Heero.I know, gomen. I'm just really
having a hard time with my writer's block.I figured I'd just put up what
I've written so far, and see how ya'll liked it, and hopefully get some
ideas from you!
Quatre sat worriedly beside Duo's door. He'd waited all morning for Duo to come down to breakfast because Duo never missed a meal. When he'd tried knocking is all he'd gotten was a, 'No thanks, Quatre, I'm not hungry!' He knew his friend was worried about Heero, and what had made the already bad situation worse was the fact that both he and Trowa had received an E-mail from Master O and Doktor S. Both had given the same instructions as though they had been typed and sent by one person, nothing new......what was new, however was the message. " 01 captured. Termination and destruction of evidence. Effective immediately." Heavy of heart, and mind, both boys had typed back the standard reply, "Mission accepted." Quatre had felt tears spring up as he clicked send. That seemingly meaningless reply was Heero's undying mantra. Trowa had held Quatre for hours after they had sent replies. Trowa had muttered that they were monsters, and rocked Quatre gently as though he were a child. His next sentence was one that sent chills down Quatre's spine. " They are right in a way though, Quatre. " Quatre had pulled away from Trowa as quickly as he could, and stared his boyfriend straight in the eyes. "What? Heero is our friend! One of the only ones we have! We should be planning a rescue attempt, not butchering him! " Trowa opened his mouth to reply, but Quatre leaped off of the boy's lap, and stood in front of him, hands on his hips. "No! Listen!" The words echoed like whip cracks throughout the bedroom. Trowa had rarely seen Quatre angry, and the young man was livid.
"Tell me Trowa, and please answer me truthfully...could you really walk into an OZ cell, and kill him? Imagine it Trowa, he's sitting there, hopping, begging, pleading for rescue, for his life...one of his dearest friends walks in, gun in hand, looks straight into his hopeful eyes, and shoots him, point blank. Could you really bring yourself to do that?" Quatre's voice had died to a whisper, and his voice cracked comically on the last word. Tears swam in his blue eyes. Trowa could barely bring himself to look in his love's eyes, but he forced himself to. Astonishingly he found his own eyes were wet as well. "Yes...yes I could Quatre...and that's what scares me. I wouldn't do it because I wanted to, but because I have to. What if we refused this mission Quatre? It could mean Heero breaking under the strain and giving them whatever the hell it is they want, out of desperation. It could mean us pulling off a rescue attempt, but what would the scientists do? Wouldn't you rather we end it, mercifully for him, rather than let OZ torture him to death? Or Dr. J. , or whoever, going in there and killing him? You know, even if we did rescue him, the scientists might want him dead anyways, for fear of an information leak...or, God forbid, they could retrain him." Quatre winced at that. One night they'd all gotten quite a bit drunk, (Rasid had made Quatre pray for Allah's forgiveness all day, the day after.) , and had asked each other for a life story of sorts. Duo's had been the most adventurous, Heero's the cruelest. Quatre still shuddered every time he remembered the distant sound of that emotionless, nasal voice, and the chilling tales that it spoke. Quatre was glad that he had never gone through the things Heero had, or else he might have emerged just as dead, and unknowing of what love, compassion and friendship were as the boy. He sighed, as unbelieving of what Trowa had just said as the certainty of what he was going to do. With a sorrowful shake of his head he turned on his heels and walked out of the room.
Wufei quickly walked away from the door to the bedroom, hearing footsteps move closer towards the door. Heero had really gotten himself into a jam this time. The angry youth stalked towards the gym to work off all the excess emotions running through his body. Everyone knows only the weak let themselves be guided by their emotions, and if anyone could survive OZ, it would be Heero Yuy.
'You've got mail!' With a start Duo ran to his laptop. That damned irritating bastard had just informed him that he had an e-mail. "You've had one hell of a Prozac dosage!" Duo bitterly informed the chipper voice. Sometimes he wished he'd never met Heero. ' Yeah fucking right...that's a load of bullshit!', his conscience tactfully informed him. Duo sometimes wondered if Heero weren't merely put on this plane of existence just to worry the hell out of him. He loved his partner, God help him. ' Oh, sweetie, you haven't really believed, or given a rat's hairy ass about Jesus or your religion since Father Maxwell, and Sister Helen died! Not since that bastard street bum raped you....a homeless boy not much older than yourself, remember?' Duo mentally ran the little voice through with his Deathscythe's thermal scythe, then gave it a jolly 'Fuck you!'....yup, he was feeling more like his old self already...until he read Professor G's mail. "Shit!!" He growled through teeth firmly clenched against tears of worry, and a fear that ran so deep he didn't believe it possible. "Oh, you owe me for this one Yuy!" He ran to go pack a bag of medical supplies and weapons. Next time, he might just have to heed his feelings of danger, and worry.
Quatre sat worriedly beside Duo's door. He'd waited all morning for Duo to come down to breakfast because Duo never missed a meal. When he'd tried knocking is all he'd gotten was a, 'No thanks, Quatre, I'm not hungry!' He knew his friend was worried about Heero, and what had made the already bad situation worse was the fact that both he and Trowa had received an E-mail from Master O and Doktor S. Both had given the same instructions as though they had been typed and sent by one person, nothing new......what was new, however was the message. " 01 captured. Termination and destruction of evidence. Effective immediately." Heavy of heart, and mind, both boys had typed back the standard reply, "Mission accepted." Quatre had felt tears spring up as he clicked send. That seemingly meaningless reply was Heero's undying mantra. Trowa had held Quatre for hours after they had sent replies. Trowa had muttered that they were monsters, and rocked Quatre gently as though he were a child. His next sentence was one that sent chills down Quatre's spine. " They are right in a way though, Quatre. " Quatre had pulled away from Trowa as quickly as he could, and stared his boyfriend straight in the eyes. "What? Heero is our friend! One of the only ones we have! We should be planning a rescue attempt, not butchering him! " Trowa opened his mouth to reply, but Quatre leaped off of the boy's lap, and stood in front of him, hands on his hips. "No! Listen!" The words echoed like whip cracks throughout the bedroom. Trowa had rarely seen Quatre angry, and the young man was livid.
"Tell me Trowa, and please answer me truthfully...could you really walk into an OZ cell, and kill him? Imagine it Trowa, he's sitting there, hopping, begging, pleading for rescue, for his life...one of his dearest friends walks in, gun in hand, looks straight into his hopeful eyes, and shoots him, point blank. Could you really bring yourself to do that?" Quatre's voice had died to a whisper, and his voice cracked comically on the last word. Tears swam in his blue eyes. Trowa could barely bring himself to look in his love's eyes, but he forced himself to. Astonishingly he found his own eyes were wet as well. "Yes...yes I could Quatre...and that's what scares me. I wouldn't do it because I wanted to, but because I have to. What if we refused this mission Quatre? It could mean Heero breaking under the strain and giving them whatever the hell it is they want, out of desperation. It could mean us pulling off a rescue attempt, but what would the scientists do? Wouldn't you rather we end it, mercifully for him, rather than let OZ torture him to death? Or Dr. J. , or whoever, going in there and killing him? You know, even if we did rescue him, the scientists might want him dead anyways, for fear of an information leak...or, God forbid, they could retrain him." Quatre winced at that. One night they'd all gotten quite a bit drunk, (Rasid had made Quatre pray for Allah's forgiveness all day, the day after.) , and had asked each other for a life story of sorts. Duo's had been the most adventurous, Heero's the cruelest. Quatre still shuddered every time he remembered the distant sound of that emotionless, nasal voice, and the chilling tales that it spoke. Quatre was glad that he had never gone through the things Heero had, or else he might have emerged just as dead, and unknowing of what love, compassion and friendship were as the boy. He sighed, as unbelieving of what Trowa had just said as the certainty of what he was going to do. With a sorrowful shake of his head he turned on his heels and walked out of the room.
Wufei quickly walked away from the door to the bedroom, hearing footsteps move closer towards the door. Heero had really gotten himself into a jam this time. The angry youth stalked towards the gym to work off all the excess emotions running through his body. Everyone knows only the weak let themselves be guided by their emotions, and if anyone could survive OZ, it would be Heero Yuy.
'You've got mail!' With a start Duo ran to his laptop. That damned irritating bastard had just informed him that he had an e-mail. "You've had one hell of a Prozac dosage!" Duo bitterly informed the chipper voice. Sometimes he wished he'd never met Heero. ' Yeah fucking right...that's a load of bullshit!', his conscience tactfully informed him. Duo sometimes wondered if Heero weren't merely put on this plane of existence just to worry the hell out of him. He loved his partner, God help him. ' Oh, sweetie, you haven't really believed, or given a rat's hairy ass about Jesus or your religion since Father Maxwell, and Sister Helen died! Not since that bastard street bum raped you....a homeless boy not much older than yourself, remember?' Duo mentally ran the little voice through with his Deathscythe's thermal scythe, then gave it a jolly 'Fuck you!'....yup, he was feeling more like his old self already...until he read Professor G's mail. "Shit!!" He growled through teeth firmly clenched against tears of worry, and a fear that ran so deep he didn't believe it possible. "Oh, you owe me for this one Yuy!" He ran to go pack a bag of medical supplies and weapons. Next time, he might just have to heed his feelings of danger, and worry.