~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tapestry - Chapter 5
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Gods ... no," I whispered. "Not you ..."
Clutching the polished wooden railing with trembling hands, I stared at the scene below; and my world rocked and spun for a moment, finally settling into place as my stomach twisted painfully on its own.
A figure was executing a difficult kata in the living quarters beneath – a serious, dark haired youth, with smooth olive skin and catlike grace. Again and again he performed the same maneuver, striving for unhurried perfection in every finished stance and position, ignoring his surroundings completely.
It was Chang Wufei.
"Questions?" Treize asked, his half-lidded eyes glittering dangerously, one eyebrow raised.
Wordlessly I stared at the gundam pilot - any control I normally used to mask my emotions and feelings was gone, torn and shredded away. Without my volition, suddenly my mind spiraled back to the first time Wufei and I met, in a forest in central China.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The first time I saw Wufei, he was standing in the hatchway of his gundam. He was thin, so thin, swathed in traditional white robes and leaning toward me, frowning. It was the last thing I expected to see; in fact, given the amount of firepower that had tracked me and my people to this encampment. I had actually expected to see our fate in the shape of an enemy's mobile suit, blasters set and ready to fire. Instead, the woods contained our savior in the guise of a stern gundam pilot and his machine.
"Weaklings should not fight!" he shouted, grabbing a catchline and lowering himself to the ground, obviously upset.
"What?" I asked, blinking at him. That's ... that's a Gundam … it was a Gundam that came to our rescue, I thought, stunned, watching him descend. And this boy is its pilot...
The Chinese youth landed lightly on the balls of his feet, abandoned his catchline and walked toward me, his white tunic glowing faintly in the gloom. "Why do you feel you have to fight an enemy that you know you can't beat?" he asked, scowling at me.
"Because someone has to do it," I replied mildly, watching him approach.
"Did someone order you to fight?"
"No!" I retorted, gesturing to the people around me. "We are all fighting of our own free will."
"I don't understand." Wufei briefly shook his head. For a moment, he appeared to be his actual age - a young teenager, lost and forlorn – as though he truly didn't understand why people would fight when they were not required to do so.
I noticed. In fact, I noticed almost every detail about Wufei, from his physical appearance to his mental and emotional responses. That really wasn't that strange in and of itself - usually, when I met new recruits, I made it my business to notice everything about them, from their facial expressions to their body language. It made things that much easier when trying to weigh whether or not they were sincere in their desire to join us or not.
What was unusual was the immediate response I had to Wufei - an odd, tight sensation that swelled in my chest and threatened to overcome me to the point where I was going to stop breathing. It was akin to a physical ache - but really, it felt deeper. If I had believed in such things, I would have said it was an ache in my soul, something that wouldn't be resolved until I did - something. I absolutely had to do something for him - and it had to be something to help him, no question about it.
"You look – very tired. Why don't you come with us and relax for a while?" I urged, not at all sure if he would come with us or not.
Those fighters with me looked at me VERY oddly. "Sally?" one murmured, raising his pistol.
"No - that's okay." I shook my head imperceptibly and gestured for him to lower his gun. "At least we know he's not our enemy."
Now ALL the rebel fighters were looking at me with the same expression of disbelief on their faces. Steadfast, I refused to look at them, instead keeping my attention fixed on the boy in front of me.
Turning again to Wufei, I smiled at him faintly and said, "Well?"
He looked thoughtful - and then, hesitantly, accepted.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That same boy was there now, training on the floor right below me. He looked as though he had been training for a while, too – there was a light sheen of sweat covering his torso, and he was breathing a little harder than normal.
Oh gods, Wufei.
"It's not as bad as you think, Ms. Po."
I swallowed, turned and looked up at Khushrenada, trying again to make my face blank and unreadable. "Oh?" I asked, compressing my mouth to a thin line as my hands gripped the glossy wooden balustrade.
The expression in his eyes was compassionate as he nodded at me. "If you are willing to communicate, I will tell you over dinner." He patted the back of the wheelchair, continuing, "I will take you to a room where you can change in private."
Staring up at him, still clutching the railing between my hands, I found I could do little more than weakly mutter, "Ah .. very well." I made no move toward him, though – opposition and mistrust and a natural stubborn resistance kept me rooted in one spot, glaring at him. I didn't want to go anywhere at the moment.
"Sit, Ms. Po," Treize said mildly, gesturing toward the chair again, holding my gaze. "It won't hurt you to be civil. You can change nothing at this point, anyway."
I looked at him a long moment. "Yes ... all right," I finally sighed, relinquishing my grip on the railing and sinking back unwillingly into the chair, surprised at how exhausted I felt. Damn. I might not want to obey him, but ... damn.
I averted my gaze from both Treize and the scene below, feeling vaguely guilty that I was cooperating with him, momentarily blocking out reality, and allowed him to wheel me away from the gundam pilot.
No - not just a gundam pilot - my gundam pilot, I amended. Wufei was not just any gundam pilot - I knew him, and he was unique.
Something resonated through my body with that thought, something that acknowledged its rightness. Wufei was ~my~ gundam pilot.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Within a matter of minutes, Treize had moved me from one area of the house to another, just past the dining room and into a narrower hallway. He paused in front of a wooden door, unlocked it and pulled me inside the room. It was a bedroom, much like the one on the second floor, but seemed smaller and furnished in a more masculine manner. The subtle scent of roses drifted in the air.
Treize leaned down and looked into my face, his eyes earnestly probing mine. "Think of any questions you like - I will probably answer them."
I looked back at him in surprise, not saying anything. Any questions?
A small smile played across his lips. He patted my arm and straightened, then quietly crossed the room, walked through the bedroom door and locked it behind him with an audible *click.*
My gaze slid over to the locked door immediately. Ignoring the rest of the room, I pushed myself out of the wheelchair and padded to the door, the nightgown whispering about my ankles. Almost as if I was willing the door to open, I carefully placed one hand over the elaborate door latch and grabbed the handle with the other, took a deep breath, and pushed.
Nothing happened. Pulling on the door did not work, either. I was locked in, with no way of escape.
Damn, damn, damn.
I leaned against the door and sighed. I was beaten this time, but not defeated – losing the skirmish did not mean that I had lost the war. Far from it, in fact.
All right, then. It's time to move to phase two - reconnaissance.
As I looked around, I realized that this room had a totally different feeling than the one on the second floor. That one was very nice, but felt like a "guest" room – this one, on the other hand, felt like someone was actually living in it, or, barring that, that the room was used on a regular basis.
And why did I think that? Glancing around, my mind supplied the visual cues my eyes had seen at once – several books out of place, not much dust on surfaces that were normally used, and one article of clothing that was carelessly tossed over a chair by the desk in the corner. A long white Chinese shirt, much too small for Treize …
…so that means a smaller person used it … and logically, that smaller person would be ….
The sound of a key turning in the lock made me flinch away from the door, suddenly guilty for prying into something not my business.
Wufei pushed the door open and lifted his gaze from the cylinder lock to my torso and then to my face in complete surprise. Small beads of sweat glistened across his forehead and chest, and his shirt was draped over his left arm.
"Wufei," I said, staring at him with a slight smile. That tight, angry feeling that had been with me started to melt away as soon as I saw him.
"S .. Sally," the youth mumbled, looking as though he was going to bolt from the room at any second. He pulled himself under control, though, and gave my face a thorough, searching look. "You're awake now. Are you all right?"
"It's good to see you, Wufei." I smiled gently at him. He looks like he would spook at the slightest noise, I thought, watching him. Aloud, I asked, "I'm fine - are you all right?"
"I'm fine. I … I have to use the shower," Wufei mumbled, pointing past me to the bathroom on the opposite side of the room, not looking at me. A slow flush was making its was from his neck through his face, staining his cheeks.
Moving out of his way so he could get to the bathroom, I blinked at him, surprised, "Ah .. well, yes. You .. ah .. knew .. you knew I was here?"
"Of course I knew you were here," Wufei snapped, giving me a dry look as he walked in front of me and tossed his shirt on the bed. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Oh .. well … I don't know," I answered, a little perplexed, frowning. "How long have I ... have we been here? I was told that I had been unconscious for over three weeks."
Wufei shrugged, an expressive gesture on his slight frame. "I don't know. I lost track. But you've been out for about three weeks – definitely that long."
I looked at him. My sixth sense - that strange, tingly sensation that warned me of danger - was screaming at me now. He wasn't lying, but all the same, there was something about what he said that didn't feel completely truthful. I was about to open my mouth and ask him another question when he broke into my thoughts, saying, "I … have to shower. Dinner's … well … "
And walked into the bathroom and slammed the door, leaving me to stare at the mahogany patterns curving across the wood.
"Well … that's certainly … different," I muttered, shaking my head in disbelief.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sighing, I sat down on the bed and waited for Wufei to reappear. My head had started to throb gently again, as did my leg. I remembered Treize's words, and snorted softly – only human, indeed – what were any of them, if not human? And they, as 'mere humans,' were going to find a way out of this comfortable prison of his or die trying.
The bathroom door hissed open at that moment, sending a volley of steam into the room along with Wufei, a large, white terry towel clutched around his waist. I watched him stalk across the floor to the chest of drawers, his well toned muscles rippling underneath skin the color of caramel. He probably doesn't know how rare he really is, I thought. People just don't look like that any more.
In the years after the great wars, every effort had been made to insure that all people were homogenized, for lack of a better term – entire cultures and civilizations integrated to the point where differences between them seemed minor indeed, and physical characteristics that would have been defining hundreds of years in the past were now simply – gone. I was a good example of such a blending of the physical and cultural traits, for as I was Chinese – totally Chinese by that world's standards – I had heavy, dark blonde hair and brilliant blue eyes. Wufei, in contrast, had the traditional Mongolian facial cast and skin tone; the only possible link to western civilization through his lineage could be heard when he spoke, using the language common to most of the world.
With a sulky, sullen expression, Wufei yanked open two of the top drawers, dipped his hand into the drawers and pulled out what appeared to be some dark, silken clothing, slammed the drawers shut and marched back into the bathroom.
I still sat on the edge of the bed, but now a queasy, unsettled feeling was gnawing its way into my stomach. That boy has a dresser full of expensive silk clothing, I thought, frowning. They all look like traditional outfits ... and they're all in fantastically brilliant colors. That's really ... odd.
The bathroom door opened again, and again Wufei walked out. This time, though, he was fully clothed in a magnificent black silk long sleeved tunic with red and yellow embroidered dragons running down the front, and black silk matching pants. The effect made Wufei look both older and more vulnerable – which, when I considered it later, was also an odd contrast.
Wufei looked at me critically, his arms folded across his chest, his eyes narrowed in concentration. "Do you feel well? You shouldn't be up. You weren't well when you were up before."
"When .. when I was up before? I don't recall - when was that?" I asked, blinking at him.
"A little over a week ago," Wufei responded, moving his arms and adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. Glancing at me, frowning, he asked, "You .. don't remember. Do you?"
"No," I admitted, "no. I don't remember anything. The last thing I do remember is being on the shuttle – and being shot down."
Frowning, the youth shook his head and repeated, "…the shuttle? Sally –" and broke off, with several expressions – none of them good – flashing across his face. "Sally," he started again, staring straight at me, "your shuttle crashed over six weeks ago."
I stared at him, incredulous. Wufei waited for me to speak.
"But … but that's impossible." I looked at Wufei as though he was the only dry land left in a suddenly flooded world. "That's just not possible. …"
"You were very, very, badly injured – your brain lining was swollen, as if you had meningitis," Wufei stated, his face losing all expression. "They thought you were going to die."
Six weeks …."No .. he told me…" I started then stopped, reconsidering; I took several deep breaths and visibly calmed myself, clasping my hands in my lap. This won't do, I have to be calm ...
"What did he tell you?" Wufei asked, his gaze suddenly sharp and piercing.
"That .. that it had been three weeks …"
Tension rolled off of Wufei's shoulders, as if he had been expecting some other kind of revelation. "Oh. Yes, it has been three weeks since you came here. You were in intensive care for most of the rest of the time. And Une had you," he spat out, unconsciously slipping into Mandarin, clenching his fists, "had you on trial for war crimes. You, of all people – for war crimes," he repeated, not quite believing what he said. "That stupid bitch."
I chuckled and answered him in Mandarin. "I'm sorry I missed that. Une probably had the time of her life testifying against me."
"Why?" Wufei snorted, looking away. "Nothing really happened. Treize made his move, charges were dropped – everybody went home."
"His move? What was that, Wufei?" I asked, my eyes narrowing slightly as I considered the implications. Did Khushrenada do something to affect me…? Is that why I'm here …?
"You know – proclaiming that the war was over between OZ and the colonies," Wufei shrugged, staring at the floor.
Quietly, almost so that he could not hear it, I asked, "...what...are you sure? Is the war is over for the resistance - for us, Wufei? Is it over now?"
Shaking his head vehemently, Wufei replied with some heat, "No - it's NOT over for the resistance - there are still groups fighting OZ. It's just something that happened while I – well - just one of those things." A sideways glance at me under long, ebony lashes spoke volumes. "Heero Yuy is still loose – and he's no more dead than you are."
"I'm not surprised," I nodded. "Khushrenada told me .. that he allowed other pilots to leave. But not you, it seems …" I trailed off, uncertain where I to go with that thought. From Wufei's expression, however, it was apparent that I had put my finger on something he felt was important.
"No," Wufei agreed quickly – and it felt almost too quickly, I thought. "He did allow pilot 4 - Quatre Winner - to leave. Heero Yuy and Duo Maxwell - pilots of gundams 1 and 2 - escaped. Also, Relena Peacecraft was held here for a short time, but was permitted to go back to her country as well."
I frowned. "Isn't that odd, Wufei? Who allows their enemies roam free after they've been captured?"
Wufei was less kind as he leaned against the dresser and pulled on traditional Chinese slippers, snorting slightly. "Of course it's odd - but Treize always has a reason behind anything he does," he said, curling his lip. "Treize sent Quatre back to him family - and it happened just in time for Quatre to attend father's funeral. The press loved it."
I snorted, shaking my head in disgust. "Ah. A photo opportunity. What a charming man."
Shaking his head, Wufei continued, "No – there were no photos. Word just …'leaked out.' Rumors are more powerful than words."
"Of course," I said, sighing. After a short silence, I tried again. "Then people must believe the war is over. If OZ was rumored to have a weapon that could defeat the gundams - why would anyone fight?"
Wufei shook his head. "You don't understand. OZ did develop a weapon that could beat everything else." Looking directly at me, his dark eyes filled with suppressed rage, he said tonelessly, "It's what brought your shuttle down."
I stared at him. "You – you know what did it? What was it? …what WAS that thing?''
"I haven't figured it out completely yet," Wufei said, "but from what I was able to see, it's some kind of mesh net, made out of gundamium. And it's wired, somehow, so that when it hits your suit – or your ship – it short circuits everything."
"Were you caught that way, too?" I asked, shifting my weight on Wufei's bed, readjusting my nightgown around me. Poor boy … I watched his eyes slide around my body, trying so hard to look at anything except what was so flagrantly on display. And it didn't seem that anything I was doing to cover up was really helping all that much, either. So bizarre, I mused, to be forced to wear something like this – which simply made me feel terribly powerless and exposed, and embarrassed Wufei no end.
Which, apparently, was the idea, I thought, angry and mortified again.
"Yes ... I'm only alive now because Nataku refused me the death I craved," Wufei said, low, a pained look on his face as if he had lost a family member instead of a fourteen story giant robot. "It destroys them utterly."
I pushed myself off the bed, ignoring the pain and dizziness behind my eyes, and walked over to the small window, steadying myself with one hand on the back of a chair. "We need to find a way out of here, Wufei - and we need to find it quickly."
"Un." Wufei looked out the window, then over at me. "It's dinner time. Sit down – I'll take you out."
"Dinner would be nice." I listened to my stomach growl softly as I looked outside, my expression closed and shuttered. Sighing, I looked down at myself again and shook my head slightly, picking at the thin material of my nightgown. "But freedom would be even better."
"Un," Wufei said again, pointedly not looking at my chest, clearly embarrassed.
I was surprised; the boy I knew weighed most things carefully before coming to a decision, and resolving to escape to freedom was a profound decision. Why hadn't he attempted to escape before? I looked back at Wufei mildly. "Ah - yes, Wufei - dinner it is. But I must change into something else – I certainly can't go to dinner in this - " and I gestured toward myself, mocking, " - and I don't want to use that thing that Khushrenada gave me. I just don't."
"Then don't." Snorting softly, Wufei walked over to one of the sets of mahogany drawers in his room and started rummaging, muttering to himself at the same time. I caught a few of the words, whispered in Mandarin – "idiot" and "ridiculous" being several he repeated over and over. He stopped, rocked back on his heels and pulled out an absolutely gorgeous traditional Chinese outfit in dark indigo silk, the pants billowing gently in the air.
"Here." A lofty expression ran across his face as he looked at the ensemble. "I won't wear this – it's girl colors. You'd fit it better, anyway. Treize has ridiculous tastes.".
The outfit flew through the air straight at my head; catching it, I admired the softness and smoothness of the fabric. "Thank you, Wufei," I replied, thinking, ...Treize?...he calls him Treize? "Ah .. may I use your shower?"
"If you're quick," he replied, closing the drawer and gesturing toward the bathroom. "We have only a few minutes before dinner."
A throbbing pain pulsed through my head; I grit my teeth and rubbed my temples, blinking. "I'll be quick." With that, I vanished into the bathroom and closed the door quietly.
Gleaming black marble, highlighted by bronze accents and fixtures, shone throughout the bath, most notably in the large tub and at the sink by the vanity. I padded across the floor to the tub, my bare feet gently slapping across the intricate pattern of inlaid marble spilling across the floor, and glowered at my image in the mirror. I bent to turn on the water for the shower, my hair slipping over one shoulder, my mind working furiously.
First things first, I thought. This taping around my ribs has got to go - it's binding me too much. While the water was running, I snagged a small pair of scissors from the vanity, carefully cut the heavy taping and pulled it away from my body, dropping it on the floor. I looked at the scissors with regret as I put them back where I found them, realizing a single pair would definitely be missed.
Sighing, I knotted my hair on top of my head, adjusted the water temperature and stepped into the spray of the shower, still working on what I saw earlier. Wufei didn't choose those clothes for himself, I thought, allowing the water jets to pound into sore neck muscles as I lathered my arms and legs, he's much too conservative for that. I'll bet Khushrenada picked them out. An involuntary shudder ran through my body at that thought. That's just too ... gah...
Water streamed down my body, sloughing off what felt like a lifetime's accumulation of confusion and grime. A warm and tingly sensation radiated through my pores, starting with my toes and ending with my cheeks. Guilty pleasure, that's what my mother would have called this. I can't avoid it any longer - I have to get out.
I stepped out of the shower and sank down into a plush rug that cushioned my feet, seeming to cradle them in softness and warmth. The towels were just as luxurious as the rug, and just as soft. Moving the cloth briskly across my back, I turned and looked at the rest of the things in the room. Low wooden tables, soaps, gels, fragrances, razor, razor blades ....
Wait.
There were razors and shielded razor blades on the opposite side of the sink.
I looked at my reflection in the vanity mirror; a crafty smile slowly touched my lips.
"About damn time something went right," I murmured as I pulled the indigo silk outfit over my legs.
Tapestry - Chapter 5
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Gods ... no," I whispered. "Not you ..."
Clutching the polished wooden railing with trembling hands, I stared at the scene below; and my world rocked and spun for a moment, finally settling into place as my stomach twisted painfully on its own.
A figure was executing a difficult kata in the living quarters beneath – a serious, dark haired youth, with smooth olive skin and catlike grace. Again and again he performed the same maneuver, striving for unhurried perfection in every finished stance and position, ignoring his surroundings completely.
It was Chang Wufei.
"Questions?" Treize asked, his half-lidded eyes glittering dangerously, one eyebrow raised.
Wordlessly I stared at the gundam pilot - any control I normally used to mask my emotions and feelings was gone, torn and shredded away. Without my volition, suddenly my mind spiraled back to the first time Wufei and I met, in a forest in central China.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The first time I saw Wufei, he was standing in the hatchway of his gundam. He was thin, so thin, swathed in traditional white robes and leaning toward me, frowning. It was the last thing I expected to see; in fact, given the amount of firepower that had tracked me and my people to this encampment. I had actually expected to see our fate in the shape of an enemy's mobile suit, blasters set and ready to fire. Instead, the woods contained our savior in the guise of a stern gundam pilot and his machine.
"Weaklings should not fight!" he shouted, grabbing a catchline and lowering himself to the ground, obviously upset.
"What?" I asked, blinking at him. That's ... that's a Gundam … it was a Gundam that came to our rescue, I thought, stunned, watching him descend. And this boy is its pilot...
The Chinese youth landed lightly on the balls of his feet, abandoned his catchline and walked toward me, his white tunic glowing faintly in the gloom. "Why do you feel you have to fight an enemy that you know you can't beat?" he asked, scowling at me.
"Because someone has to do it," I replied mildly, watching him approach.
"Did someone order you to fight?"
"No!" I retorted, gesturing to the people around me. "We are all fighting of our own free will."
"I don't understand." Wufei briefly shook his head. For a moment, he appeared to be his actual age - a young teenager, lost and forlorn – as though he truly didn't understand why people would fight when they were not required to do so.
I noticed. In fact, I noticed almost every detail about Wufei, from his physical appearance to his mental and emotional responses. That really wasn't that strange in and of itself - usually, when I met new recruits, I made it my business to notice everything about them, from their facial expressions to their body language. It made things that much easier when trying to weigh whether or not they were sincere in their desire to join us or not.
What was unusual was the immediate response I had to Wufei - an odd, tight sensation that swelled in my chest and threatened to overcome me to the point where I was going to stop breathing. It was akin to a physical ache - but really, it felt deeper. If I had believed in such things, I would have said it was an ache in my soul, something that wouldn't be resolved until I did - something. I absolutely had to do something for him - and it had to be something to help him, no question about it.
"You look – very tired. Why don't you come with us and relax for a while?" I urged, not at all sure if he would come with us or not.
Those fighters with me looked at me VERY oddly. "Sally?" one murmured, raising his pistol.
"No - that's okay." I shook my head imperceptibly and gestured for him to lower his gun. "At least we know he's not our enemy."
Now ALL the rebel fighters were looking at me with the same expression of disbelief on their faces. Steadfast, I refused to look at them, instead keeping my attention fixed on the boy in front of me.
Turning again to Wufei, I smiled at him faintly and said, "Well?"
He looked thoughtful - and then, hesitantly, accepted.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That same boy was there now, training on the floor right below me. He looked as though he had been training for a while, too – there was a light sheen of sweat covering his torso, and he was breathing a little harder than normal.
Oh gods, Wufei.
"It's not as bad as you think, Ms. Po."
I swallowed, turned and looked up at Khushrenada, trying again to make my face blank and unreadable. "Oh?" I asked, compressing my mouth to a thin line as my hands gripped the glossy wooden balustrade.
The expression in his eyes was compassionate as he nodded at me. "If you are willing to communicate, I will tell you over dinner." He patted the back of the wheelchair, continuing, "I will take you to a room where you can change in private."
Staring up at him, still clutching the railing between my hands, I found I could do little more than weakly mutter, "Ah .. very well." I made no move toward him, though – opposition and mistrust and a natural stubborn resistance kept me rooted in one spot, glaring at him. I didn't want to go anywhere at the moment.
"Sit, Ms. Po," Treize said mildly, gesturing toward the chair again, holding my gaze. "It won't hurt you to be civil. You can change nothing at this point, anyway."
I looked at him a long moment. "Yes ... all right," I finally sighed, relinquishing my grip on the railing and sinking back unwillingly into the chair, surprised at how exhausted I felt. Damn. I might not want to obey him, but ... damn.
I averted my gaze from both Treize and the scene below, feeling vaguely guilty that I was cooperating with him, momentarily blocking out reality, and allowed him to wheel me away from the gundam pilot.
No - not just a gundam pilot - my gundam pilot, I amended. Wufei was not just any gundam pilot - I knew him, and he was unique.
Something resonated through my body with that thought, something that acknowledged its rightness. Wufei was ~my~ gundam pilot.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Within a matter of minutes, Treize had moved me from one area of the house to another, just past the dining room and into a narrower hallway. He paused in front of a wooden door, unlocked it and pulled me inside the room. It was a bedroom, much like the one on the second floor, but seemed smaller and furnished in a more masculine manner. The subtle scent of roses drifted in the air.
Treize leaned down and looked into my face, his eyes earnestly probing mine. "Think of any questions you like - I will probably answer them."
I looked back at him in surprise, not saying anything. Any questions?
A small smile played across his lips. He patted my arm and straightened, then quietly crossed the room, walked through the bedroom door and locked it behind him with an audible *click.*
My gaze slid over to the locked door immediately. Ignoring the rest of the room, I pushed myself out of the wheelchair and padded to the door, the nightgown whispering about my ankles. Almost as if I was willing the door to open, I carefully placed one hand over the elaborate door latch and grabbed the handle with the other, took a deep breath, and pushed.
Nothing happened. Pulling on the door did not work, either. I was locked in, with no way of escape.
Damn, damn, damn.
I leaned against the door and sighed. I was beaten this time, but not defeated – losing the skirmish did not mean that I had lost the war. Far from it, in fact.
All right, then. It's time to move to phase two - reconnaissance.
As I looked around, I realized that this room had a totally different feeling than the one on the second floor. That one was very nice, but felt like a "guest" room – this one, on the other hand, felt like someone was actually living in it, or, barring that, that the room was used on a regular basis.
And why did I think that? Glancing around, my mind supplied the visual cues my eyes had seen at once – several books out of place, not much dust on surfaces that were normally used, and one article of clothing that was carelessly tossed over a chair by the desk in the corner. A long white Chinese shirt, much too small for Treize …
…so that means a smaller person used it … and logically, that smaller person would be ….
The sound of a key turning in the lock made me flinch away from the door, suddenly guilty for prying into something not my business.
Wufei pushed the door open and lifted his gaze from the cylinder lock to my torso and then to my face in complete surprise. Small beads of sweat glistened across his forehead and chest, and his shirt was draped over his left arm.
"Wufei," I said, staring at him with a slight smile. That tight, angry feeling that had been with me started to melt away as soon as I saw him.
"S .. Sally," the youth mumbled, looking as though he was going to bolt from the room at any second. He pulled himself under control, though, and gave my face a thorough, searching look. "You're awake now. Are you all right?"
"It's good to see you, Wufei." I smiled gently at him. He looks like he would spook at the slightest noise, I thought, watching him. Aloud, I asked, "I'm fine - are you all right?"
"I'm fine. I … I have to use the shower," Wufei mumbled, pointing past me to the bathroom on the opposite side of the room, not looking at me. A slow flush was making its was from his neck through his face, staining his cheeks.
Moving out of his way so he could get to the bathroom, I blinked at him, surprised, "Ah .. well, yes. You .. ah .. knew .. you knew I was here?"
"Of course I knew you were here," Wufei snapped, giving me a dry look as he walked in front of me and tossed his shirt on the bed. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Oh .. well … I don't know," I answered, a little perplexed, frowning. "How long have I ... have we been here? I was told that I had been unconscious for over three weeks."
Wufei shrugged, an expressive gesture on his slight frame. "I don't know. I lost track. But you've been out for about three weeks – definitely that long."
I looked at him. My sixth sense - that strange, tingly sensation that warned me of danger - was screaming at me now. He wasn't lying, but all the same, there was something about what he said that didn't feel completely truthful. I was about to open my mouth and ask him another question when he broke into my thoughts, saying, "I … have to shower. Dinner's … well … "
And walked into the bathroom and slammed the door, leaving me to stare at the mahogany patterns curving across the wood.
"Well … that's certainly … different," I muttered, shaking my head in disbelief.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sighing, I sat down on the bed and waited for Wufei to reappear. My head had started to throb gently again, as did my leg. I remembered Treize's words, and snorted softly – only human, indeed – what were any of them, if not human? And they, as 'mere humans,' were going to find a way out of this comfortable prison of his or die trying.
The bathroom door hissed open at that moment, sending a volley of steam into the room along with Wufei, a large, white terry towel clutched around his waist. I watched him stalk across the floor to the chest of drawers, his well toned muscles rippling underneath skin the color of caramel. He probably doesn't know how rare he really is, I thought. People just don't look like that any more.
In the years after the great wars, every effort had been made to insure that all people were homogenized, for lack of a better term – entire cultures and civilizations integrated to the point where differences between them seemed minor indeed, and physical characteristics that would have been defining hundreds of years in the past were now simply – gone. I was a good example of such a blending of the physical and cultural traits, for as I was Chinese – totally Chinese by that world's standards – I had heavy, dark blonde hair and brilliant blue eyes. Wufei, in contrast, had the traditional Mongolian facial cast and skin tone; the only possible link to western civilization through his lineage could be heard when he spoke, using the language common to most of the world.
With a sulky, sullen expression, Wufei yanked open two of the top drawers, dipped his hand into the drawers and pulled out what appeared to be some dark, silken clothing, slammed the drawers shut and marched back into the bathroom.
I still sat on the edge of the bed, but now a queasy, unsettled feeling was gnawing its way into my stomach. That boy has a dresser full of expensive silk clothing, I thought, frowning. They all look like traditional outfits ... and they're all in fantastically brilliant colors. That's really ... odd.
The bathroom door opened again, and again Wufei walked out. This time, though, he was fully clothed in a magnificent black silk long sleeved tunic with red and yellow embroidered dragons running down the front, and black silk matching pants. The effect made Wufei look both older and more vulnerable – which, when I considered it later, was also an odd contrast.
Wufei looked at me critically, his arms folded across his chest, his eyes narrowed in concentration. "Do you feel well? You shouldn't be up. You weren't well when you were up before."
"When .. when I was up before? I don't recall - when was that?" I asked, blinking at him.
"A little over a week ago," Wufei responded, moving his arms and adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. Glancing at me, frowning, he asked, "You .. don't remember. Do you?"
"No," I admitted, "no. I don't remember anything. The last thing I do remember is being on the shuttle – and being shot down."
Frowning, the youth shook his head and repeated, "…the shuttle? Sally –" and broke off, with several expressions – none of them good – flashing across his face. "Sally," he started again, staring straight at me, "your shuttle crashed over six weeks ago."
I stared at him, incredulous. Wufei waited for me to speak.
"But … but that's impossible." I looked at Wufei as though he was the only dry land left in a suddenly flooded world. "That's just not possible. …"
"You were very, very, badly injured – your brain lining was swollen, as if you had meningitis," Wufei stated, his face losing all expression. "They thought you were going to die."
Six weeks …."No .. he told me…" I started then stopped, reconsidering; I took several deep breaths and visibly calmed myself, clasping my hands in my lap. This won't do, I have to be calm ...
"What did he tell you?" Wufei asked, his gaze suddenly sharp and piercing.
"That .. that it had been three weeks …"
Tension rolled off of Wufei's shoulders, as if he had been expecting some other kind of revelation. "Oh. Yes, it has been three weeks since you came here. You were in intensive care for most of the rest of the time. And Une had you," he spat out, unconsciously slipping into Mandarin, clenching his fists, "had you on trial for war crimes. You, of all people – for war crimes," he repeated, not quite believing what he said. "That stupid bitch."
I chuckled and answered him in Mandarin. "I'm sorry I missed that. Une probably had the time of her life testifying against me."
"Why?" Wufei snorted, looking away. "Nothing really happened. Treize made his move, charges were dropped – everybody went home."
"His move? What was that, Wufei?" I asked, my eyes narrowing slightly as I considered the implications. Did Khushrenada do something to affect me…? Is that why I'm here …?
"You know – proclaiming that the war was over between OZ and the colonies," Wufei shrugged, staring at the floor.
Quietly, almost so that he could not hear it, I asked, "...what...are you sure? Is the war is over for the resistance - for us, Wufei? Is it over now?"
Shaking his head vehemently, Wufei replied with some heat, "No - it's NOT over for the resistance - there are still groups fighting OZ. It's just something that happened while I – well - just one of those things." A sideways glance at me under long, ebony lashes spoke volumes. "Heero Yuy is still loose – and he's no more dead than you are."
"I'm not surprised," I nodded. "Khushrenada told me .. that he allowed other pilots to leave. But not you, it seems …" I trailed off, uncertain where I to go with that thought. From Wufei's expression, however, it was apparent that I had put my finger on something he felt was important.
"No," Wufei agreed quickly – and it felt almost too quickly, I thought. "He did allow pilot 4 - Quatre Winner - to leave. Heero Yuy and Duo Maxwell - pilots of gundams 1 and 2 - escaped. Also, Relena Peacecraft was held here for a short time, but was permitted to go back to her country as well."
I frowned. "Isn't that odd, Wufei? Who allows their enemies roam free after they've been captured?"
Wufei was less kind as he leaned against the dresser and pulled on traditional Chinese slippers, snorting slightly. "Of course it's odd - but Treize always has a reason behind anything he does," he said, curling his lip. "Treize sent Quatre back to him family - and it happened just in time for Quatre to attend father's funeral. The press loved it."
I snorted, shaking my head in disgust. "Ah. A photo opportunity. What a charming man."
Shaking his head, Wufei continued, "No – there were no photos. Word just …'leaked out.' Rumors are more powerful than words."
"Of course," I said, sighing. After a short silence, I tried again. "Then people must believe the war is over. If OZ was rumored to have a weapon that could defeat the gundams - why would anyone fight?"
Wufei shook his head. "You don't understand. OZ did develop a weapon that could beat everything else." Looking directly at me, his dark eyes filled with suppressed rage, he said tonelessly, "It's what brought your shuttle down."
I stared at him. "You – you know what did it? What was it? …what WAS that thing?''
"I haven't figured it out completely yet," Wufei said, "but from what I was able to see, it's some kind of mesh net, made out of gundamium. And it's wired, somehow, so that when it hits your suit – or your ship – it short circuits everything."
"Were you caught that way, too?" I asked, shifting my weight on Wufei's bed, readjusting my nightgown around me. Poor boy … I watched his eyes slide around my body, trying so hard to look at anything except what was so flagrantly on display. And it didn't seem that anything I was doing to cover up was really helping all that much, either. So bizarre, I mused, to be forced to wear something like this – which simply made me feel terribly powerless and exposed, and embarrassed Wufei no end.
Which, apparently, was the idea, I thought, angry and mortified again.
"Yes ... I'm only alive now because Nataku refused me the death I craved," Wufei said, low, a pained look on his face as if he had lost a family member instead of a fourteen story giant robot. "It destroys them utterly."
I pushed myself off the bed, ignoring the pain and dizziness behind my eyes, and walked over to the small window, steadying myself with one hand on the back of a chair. "We need to find a way out of here, Wufei - and we need to find it quickly."
"Un." Wufei looked out the window, then over at me. "It's dinner time. Sit down – I'll take you out."
"Dinner would be nice." I listened to my stomach growl softly as I looked outside, my expression closed and shuttered. Sighing, I looked down at myself again and shook my head slightly, picking at the thin material of my nightgown. "But freedom would be even better."
"Un," Wufei said again, pointedly not looking at my chest, clearly embarrassed.
I was surprised; the boy I knew weighed most things carefully before coming to a decision, and resolving to escape to freedom was a profound decision. Why hadn't he attempted to escape before? I looked back at Wufei mildly. "Ah - yes, Wufei - dinner it is. But I must change into something else – I certainly can't go to dinner in this - " and I gestured toward myself, mocking, " - and I don't want to use that thing that Khushrenada gave me. I just don't."
"Then don't." Snorting softly, Wufei walked over to one of the sets of mahogany drawers in his room and started rummaging, muttering to himself at the same time. I caught a few of the words, whispered in Mandarin – "idiot" and "ridiculous" being several he repeated over and over. He stopped, rocked back on his heels and pulled out an absolutely gorgeous traditional Chinese outfit in dark indigo silk, the pants billowing gently in the air.
"Here." A lofty expression ran across his face as he looked at the ensemble. "I won't wear this – it's girl colors. You'd fit it better, anyway. Treize has ridiculous tastes.".
The outfit flew through the air straight at my head; catching it, I admired the softness and smoothness of the fabric. "Thank you, Wufei," I replied, thinking, ...Treize?...he calls him Treize? "Ah .. may I use your shower?"
"If you're quick," he replied, closing the drawer and gesturing toward the bathroom. "We have only a few minutes before dinner."
A throbbing pain pulsed through my head; I grit my teeth and rubbed my temples, blinking. "I'll be quick." With that, I vanished into the bathroom and closed the door quietly.
Gleaming black marble, highlighted by bronze accents and fixtures, shone throughout the bath, most notably in the large tub and at the sink by the vanity. I padded across the floor to the tub, my bare feet gently slapping across the intricate pattern of inlaid marble spilling across the floor, and glowered at my image in the mirror. I bent to turn on the water for the shower, my hair slipping over one shoulder, my mind working furiously.
First things first, I thought. This taping around my ribs has got to go - it's binding me too much. While the water was running, I snagged a small pair of scissors from the vanity, carefully cut the heavy taping and pulled it away from my body, dropping it on the floor. I looked at the scissors with regret as I put them back where I found them, realizing a single pair would definitely be missed.
Sighing, I knotted my hair on top of my head, adjusted the water temperature and stepped into the spray of the shower, still working on what I saw earlier. Wufei didn't choose those clothes for himself, I thought, allowing the water jets to pound into sore neck muscles as I lathered my arms and legs, he's much too conservative for that. I'll bet Khushrenada picked them out. An involuntary shudder ran through my body at that thought. That's just too ... gah...
Water streamed down my body, sloughing off what felt like a lifetime's accumulation of confusion and grime. A warm and tingly sensation radiated through my pores, starting with my toes and ending with my cheeks. Guilty pleasure, that's what my mother would have called this. I can't avoid it any longer - I have to get out.
I stepped out of the shower and sank down into a plush rug that cushioned my feet, seeming to cradle them in softness and warmth. The towels were just as luxurious as the rug, and just as soft. Moving the cloth briskly across my back, I turned and looked at the rest of the things in the room. Low wooden tables, soaps, gels, fragrances, razor, razor blades ....
Wait.
There were razors and shielded razor blades on the opposite side of the sink.
I looked at my reflection in the vanity mirror; a crafty smile slowly touched my lips.
"About damn time something went right," I murmured as I pulled the indigo silk outfit over my legs.