Text in italics is thought.
Wufei stepped out of the chateau onto the wide balcony, his black ponytail slicing a piece out of the white jacket and pants that seemed to glow in the predawn darkness. His eyes, adjusted to the darkness by the walk from his room, scanned the area for a place to sit and look out of the valley as he meditated. Eventually he settled on the wide stone balustrade and lifted himself on top of it, removing his jacket as he gracefully lowered himself into a cross-legged position and draped it over the stonework beside him. He permitted himself one small sigh looked over the darkness spread before him, then closed his eyes as his awareness sank through the levels of his mind, much like a submarine diving for calmer waters during a storm. In his case, the storm was his concrn for Heero and his recent and sudden lack of intensity. During the war his drive and single-minded focus on bringing peace to the colonies and Earth had earned the proud Dragon's respect, but recently the Japanese boy had seemed lost and aimless, and it was worrying Wufei. Last night he han't even tried to interact before or during most of the meal, and the anxiety rolling off Duo and Quatre had been almost physical. It had been painful for him to be able to do nothing but watch the boy he respected fall apart, and so he had hurriedly left as soon as the meal was over, retreating to the sanctuary of his room. There he had practiced with his sword until he had fallen into an exhausted sleep on his bed, still early. Thus he had awoken early and, still troubled, had come out here to meditate and calm himself - and think of some kind of plan of action. He had heard Heero agree to a meeting with Quatre to discuss whatever it was the empath had felt from him, but what the outcome of that meeting had been - if anything - was unknown.
Wufei sighed again as his thoughts roiled in the storm of emotion and once more set about the process of stilling his mind, this time succeeding in slipping beyond the reach of thought and emotion.
Time passed, and as Wufei rose out of the meditation he became aware of someone watching him.
"Please," Wufei called calmly without opening his eyes, "come and join me, Heero."
Wufei received a grunt in reply and opened his eyes, looking out over the mis-covered valley and the sun just peeking over the horizon as Heero approached and settled himself next to the Chinese boy. For a moment there was silence between the two boys as they watched the sun inch its way into view.
"How did you know it was me?" Heero inquired tonelessly, seemingly uninterested in Wufei's response.
You mean apart from the fact that no one else would be up this early? Wufei thought silently, then replied with a shrug. "You didn't make any noise."
Heero seemed to consider this for a moment, then grunted again. Fleetingly Wufei wished Duo were there to interpret Heero's particular version of communication, then dismissed the thought and turned to inspect Heero's face for a clue as to his meaning. What he saw shocked and worried him beyond what he'd felt last night, as the strengthening light exposed Heero's bloodshot eyes and the heavy bags under his cobalt orbs, testament to a severe lack of sleep. Worst of all was the hopeless expression on Heero's face as he acknowledged Wufei's horrified gaze. This was the emotionless Perfect Soldier they had followed at the end of the war? This was the soldier who had been unfazed by the annihilation of hordes of enemy mobile suits, who had faced death without a second thought in order to complete the mission? Wufei struggled to see the boy he had reespected in the broken child in front of him, and failed. Heero broke the silence as Wufei gaped in disbelief.
"That bad?" Heero asked sadly. Wufei shut his mouth and nodded mutely.
"Hn," Heero grunted, his eyes shifting to look out over the valley again. "I haven't looked in the mirror for a few days," he added as an afterthought.
"Did Quatre -" Wufei began, then cut himself off as Heero's head whipped around to face him, eyes narrowed in a silent but accusing question.
"If I've noticed," Wufei pointed out wryly, "Quatre will have, with his space heart. Duo doesn't miss much either." He waited, hoping he'd diverted the question without lying.
"No," Heero murmured at last, face softening - in apology? "He doesn't." He looked at the river, erecting his defences again and avoiding Wufei's eyes. "I had an audience with Quatre and therefore Trowa last night. He didn't ask the right questions and I walked out."
Wufei's expression fell. He had been hoping Quatre's diplomacy skills would get Heero to open up and talk, so they could help him past whatever was eating at him. It looked like that wouldn't work.
"So what are the right questions?" Wufei inquired in an uncharacteristically gently tone. One side of Heero's mouth twitched sadly as he stepped down onto the balcony floor.
"I don't know," Heero stated in his usual monotone, the moment of openness gone as he began to move away. "You'll need to find them. I can't."
Heero disappeared back into the just-stirring chateau as Wufei stared helplessly after him, resolving to talk to the other pilots - and soon. It was obvious that whatever was putting Heero under so much pressure couldn't be left to resolve itself, because Heero was very, very close to breaking for the last time.
