A/N: So. If you're wondering why this was late, I've been rather preoccupied. My dad was just diagnosed with cancer (right along with my mom! Grr...) and he has surgery in a few days, so due to family health, these will be appearing MUCH slower. Argh...so. This one's different than the others (ie darker), and shorter. (Sigh) Life sucks. And GAH! What the fuck does the world have against my family??? Good lord... Alright, I'm done. Go read the warnings now.
Not-Normal Warnings: Heero Abuse, Violence, and Moderately Scary Quatre. Bit o' spoilers for Ye Of Reading Into Things and Getting Luchia's Foreshadowing. Onward!
Sea of Silence
SPECIAL 4
Heero
x---x
My duty is to protect, to kill, and to serve. Above all, safeguard the prince. Above all, place others. Below all, place yourself. I am the guardian.
x---x
"Get up," the gruff voice said as he hit the dirt floor again. Blood was pooling on the sand from his split lip. The six-year-old glared at the man. "Get up, Dog." The boy, commonly called Dog among other things, shakily rose to his feet.
"I'm up," he whispered, and the man made a contented sound.
"Good. Now fight again," the boy shuddered. "Fight, or the boys are in deep trouble." With one final glare, the boy called Dog took up his stance, ready for the much larger man's onslaught.
But, instead the man tossed a book at the boy's feet, spattering bloody sand onto his bare legs.
"I don't understand," the boy began, but the man cuffed him sharply.
"Hold your tongue, boy," he snapped, looking irritated as he picked the book up. "Sometimes, words are more powerful than fighting." The man grimaced. "Sometimes. So, to protect and serve, you need to know more than just fighting." The boy, sprawled on the sand, nodded. "Now get up, Dog. Your...tutor is waiting." The boy rose, muscles aching.
He'd been trained for as long as he could remember to ignore the pain, so he did. He'd also been trained to constantly count; windows, guards, seconds...anything. It could always give him an advantage. At six years old, he did it without thinking, his brain constantly tallying things on almost a subconscious level. He'd been in the sand room for seven hours.
The corridor outside the metallic door was similar to every other area of the Keep; muted beige stone with torches lining the haggard masonry accompanied a well-worn rock floor, sand trailed onto it. With that reminder, the boy wiped some of the bloody sand off his body.
The man opened another door, and the boy stepped in, only for the door to slam shut behind him. Unlike any other child his age, he didn't flinch. He merely blinked, and even that was more from the slight change in pressure. Where the corridor had been chilled, this room was slightly warm.
There was a flash of light, and the boy's eyes trained into their usual cold expression.
"Hello Heero," a man's voice said, and a white-haired man slid into the pale light cast by a wall sconce. The boy frowned. The smileless man wore strange glass lenses across his eyes. The calculating boy didn't like how easily they hid the tutor's gaze. "You may call me J."
"J," the boy stated flatly, and the man nodded, his face blank. "You're to train me." J nodded.
"You're smart. And strong. And fast," J said, and gestured for the six-year-old to sit in a nearby chair. "It is my duty to mold you into what you must be."
"The guardian," the boy said flatly, and J nodded.
"Do you know what you'll be guarding," J asked, and the boy shook his head. "Are you aware you're still covered in blood and sand?"
"Yes." The boy refused to even acknowledge embarrassment. Slowly J's lips twisted into a semblance of a smile. Whether it was a smile, a smirk, or something darker, the boy couldn't tell. The man's glasses glinted again as he went further back into the dark.
"Good. Come."
The boy followed him into the shadows.
x---x
"Meet your mark," J said, and the blonde nodded at Heero. The boy looked a year younger than his own seven. As politeness decreed, the older boy bowed slightly.
"Mr. Winner," Heero said in his smooth, yet still pitifully childish, voice, and J left the room without looking back. As soon as the adults were gone, the blonde melted into a smile.
"Please, call me Quatre. Master Quatre in public, if you would," the blonde boy said, smiling. Heero bowed his head.
"Quatre, then," he said, and Quatre shook his head, hopping into a wicker chair.
"Don't feel like that. Just say you're unhappy; at least, when the door's closed and we're alone. I hate how the guards ghost by," Quatre smiled. "I can feel your emotions." Heero nodded.
"Convenient," he stated, and the blonde shrugged.
"So, you're my guard? What do you do, just follow me around and keep people from stabbing me," Quatre asked.
"You could put it that way," Heero said, still standing at attention. After one year of intensive training with J, he knew to never stand down without permission.
"Oh! You're more than welcome to sit down," Quatre said, and with a curt nod, Heero fell into an armchair. "So, what's your name?"
"Heero Yuy," Heero said. "You may call me Heero." Quatre smiled at him.
"Well, welcome, Heero. Now tell me, do you know arithmetic? I just get worse and worse," Quatre said, practically glowing at having someone to speak with without needing to guard his actions.
The next time he was sent to see J, Heero told him everything.
x---x
Years grew trust, friendship, and even a brotherly love between the two boys. Heero had been giving false reports to J since he was eight, and now that he was thirteen he knew his time was running out. Just as J manipulated and destroyed Heero's body, the Mage controlled Quatre's mind.
Originally, the boy's telekinetic powers had been utterly dormant, only surfacing in moments of pure panic. When Quatre had been three, he'd panicked. The Mage found out, and bonded his life to that power. The bond made both capable of using it, although Quatre seemed far more adept (and intelligent) than the Mage.
"You're a dog, Yuy," the man said, and slammed his fist into the guardian's jaw once more. Heero didn't move, save miniscule recoil. Sure it made his neck throb, but the satisfaction from seeing the man's purple face certainly made up for it. "That's all you'll ever be! Recite!"
Heero had had enough. For his entire life, he'd been beaten down by the same man. This man. And, from what his ridiculously intelligent mind could gather, it no longer had a purpose. There was no meaning in it. His cold blue eyes rose to challenge the man's gaze.
"No," he said very clearly, mussed chocolate hair covered in bloody sand again. The man glared.
"What did you just say, you little-"
"I said no," Heero interrupted, standing up as cleanly as he could. The beating had been going on for an hour now. Even at eight, Heero had been intimidating. At thirteen, he was downright terrifying when he chose to be. And right now, he chose. The man backed up, dropping his rod in the process. Heero picked it up.
"Get away from me!" The man was screaming, backing himself into a corner, but Heero approached, hefting the rod expertly. He'd seen it in action every three days his whole life. He knew every flick, every jab, every thwack, and where to do it.
"No," Heero said coldly, and with hardly any effort raised the blunt object, and in a moment of pure fury, slammed the metal switch straight into the man's neck. It cut the skin, and through most of the flesh, stopping with the spine's resounding crunk sound as it met with the metal.
Blood was coating him, but Heero was long past caring. He had to get to Quatre. It was time to go.
x---x
Heero hated the desert. He hated the worshippers who came for Quatre, he hated the heat, and most of all, he hated the lack of water. So, really, he just hated the desert. The Manganacs were fine with him; they knew how to fight, and were nearly as diligent as he himself when it came to guarding the desert prince.
He'd taken to training the tribe, in case the worst happened and he either needed backup or died and someone else had to take over Quatre's guardianship.
Said boy was still bubbling about meeting his sister a year ago (which Heero couldn't help but be envious of). He knew there wasn't anyone looking for him, except maybe to kill him and Quatre. And the desert leader just seemed to be walking on air.
"I think it's time we left for Algon," Quatre said clearly, and Heero stared at him. "The Manganacs don't need us; they NEVER needed us. And, I want to go see our families." Heero couldn't help but notice the 'our'.
"I don't have a family," he stated, and Quatre smiled at him.
"You're my family, so consider yourself an honorary Winner," Quatre was glowing, and Heero was reminded of a sunning lizard. He seemed to just soak up the benevolence of his own action.
"I'm not related to you, no matter how much you wish," Heero snapped. "Besides, it would take almost a month to get to the nearest port! And there's your safety to consider. How can we trust anyone? They could be a pirate, or a slave trader, or something worse."
Quatre shrugged. "That's why it's called trust." The two stared at each other.
"You're serious, aren't you," Heero stated, and Quatre smiled again.
"We're leaving in the morning," he said, and Heero took the chance to walk out of the huge tent and straight on towards his own smaller yet far more comfortable tent. It was clearly the closest one to the small oasis, what with being just a few feet away from the water's edge.
It wasn't that he didn't want to go, it was that he truly, deeply hated knowing Quatre was eagerly jumping into trouble. Although gentle, he was nosy and would probably end up being killed by it. He plotted too much, when the occasion let him. The blonde was too politically inclined.
The list of Quatre's possibly fatal flaws flowed through his constantly calculating mind, just as his own ran through. He thought too much, he couldn't be everywhere at once, he hardly ever took anyone's advice, and most importantly, in bright red letters flashing in his brain, he didn't know a damn thing about ships.
Heero sighed quietly, and began packing. When Quatre said something final, it WAS final.
x---x
A/N: The end of a far-too-short, far-too-boring special. SO! To cheer myself up, since there's only going to be four or five more chapters to SOS, I'll be posting four or five chapter 1/prologues on the same day. I'd REALLY appreciate it if you guys would tell me which you want when this is done. Some of them are serious, others are just...insane. All of them would be interesting, and I can't choose, so...yeah. Please do that. K, bye!
TrenchcoatMan: Err...Trenchcoat-sama. (Nah, sorry, that ain't gonna happen. It just sounds weird.) BUT, I'm putting your description (although shortened) up as soon as my damn scanner works. I figure, a deal's a deal, so I can't use it until lovely Mr. Winner is sitting pretty on the internet. Crafty Usurper. Ha. That ain't the half of it.
Silver Cateyes: No, Hilde/Atropos was NOT raped. Well, she was attacked, but probably not in the way you're thinking...agh! I just gave stuff away! BAD kitty!
Rekkaboziegirl: Allergies? I have those too! Back when I lived on the east coast, they were horrible. I'd die in the middle of class. I always love getting the Boys drunk; it's one of my specialties :D. And on a boat? Tipsy fun!
Windy River: Eheheh...oops.
Empress Shinigami: Cookies?! COOKIES?!? Oh, I hope you consider this fast! Thanks for thinking I'm awesome. That just cheers me up.
Priscel: I loved reading you reading. Well, that sounds weird. ANYWAY, Duo and Wuffles were "experimenting" at 14 & 15; yes, that is pretty early, but in the series they're 15, so...yeah...Wow, my birthday's popular. YAY! Fellow Greek Freak! SO fun! And you'll see how Our Daring Duo (hee!) will make it out in time. Of course they make it! Come on! I'm a 1x2 addict!
Myca: Yes, they'll be okay. 13's one of my lucky numbers, too! (Points to name) See? And, oh yes. The Hat Orgy will commence.
The Rogue Prince: Glad you're enjoying it! Keep going! Or...stop. I haven't written more yet...(blushes)
Avid Reader: I love doubles. I mean, two Duos? Two Heeros? What's not to love? Well, confusion, but still. Thank you!
Mlaine: No kidding! Those hurricanes; I remember back in the day (yes, I can say it! I have a right to say Back In The Day!) when we'd have to go run away. That was really annoying, 'cuz the darn things never got near our house. Wow. I feel sorry for you not having a computer; I only have one because it's from 1996.
Blackwolfzee: Oooo! I feel so loved! Thank you, and welcome to the story!
I feel like a popular girl at prom! You guys are so great! Well, Ch. 13 will be coming out (relatively) soon, so thanks for reading! Please review, as always! And also look out for Luchia's Multiple Fic Extravaganza in a couple days. THANKS!!!
(PS anyone ever seen Fight Club? I need some info on it.)