Author's Note: Here ya go, another chapter up. Lucky you! And I fixed my lil' typos, thanks to Sass - thanks a bunch:D I heart you!

Thanks for the reviews, I effing love you guys! LOL

Chapter Rating: PG-13, for adult situations and mild gore.


CHAPTER FIVE: The Kitchen

They seemed frozen in each other's gaze, eyes locked on one another's. All that was heard was her faint raspy breathing. The eerie silence between the two seemed to pulse, and with it her breathing quickened. The girl's eyes searched his in a panic, her unfamiliar surroundings soon drawing her weary gaze, her eyes darting around the room in alarm.

There was no feeling of time anymore, only the uncomfortable throb of the stillness.

Suddenly, she threw the blankets off of her and turned sharply to flee, but stopped short with a piercing cry, her feeble attempt to escape getting as far as the bed's edge. Whimpering out her agony weakly, the girl's hands clutched her side tightly, the wobbly feet underneath her giving out and allowing her to spill clumsily onto the cold, marble-plated floor.

Heero heard her wheeze and claw desperately at the tile, trying her hardest to move, ragged sobs slowly interrupting her deep breaths. Calmly, he got up and made his way carefully around the bed, until he was standing over her; his eyes void of emotion while he silently watched her.

The girl stopped her flailing the moment she felt him nearby, and after several seconds of silent sobbing, she slowly pushed herself to her knees, half-choking as she drew in an uneven breath. She kept her head down and her bare chest covered, her shoulders trembling as she continued to gasp and sputter softly, her cotton white panties now stained from blood trickling from her blood-soaked bandage.

Drawing his pistol, Heero stretched out his arm, the cold metal of the revolver's tip pressing against the girl's delicate temple. He watched emotionlessly when she winced, uttering a shaky sob as she held her doddering hands protectively against her body, her shoulders hunching. She waited silently, with the exception of her stuttering sobs, for him to pull the trigger.

Heero, however, didn't.

Slowly, he dragged his gun along her face gingerly, slipping the tip under the girl's chin and lifting it, angling her head in his direction. His blue, stoic eyes searched to connect with the pastel green of hers when he peered down his pistol's point at her face, which was hidden by tangled locks of russet hair. Her lime-colored orbs darted to the gun before connecting with his, her eyes rimmed thickly with tears and frustration; some tears languidly rolling down passed her freckled, flushed cheeks to her wrinkled chin, her lower lip cracked and bleeding. Behind those tears burned a fierce anger, her eyebrows knitted together bitterly as she fought to hold on to her pride.

"Just do it, already!"

Heero felt something in his chest tighten when she rasped out her weak demand, seeing the mixed emotions of shame, pain, and rage glistening in her tear-filled eyes. Her raw emotion was beginning to alarm him.

With an authoritative gaze, Heero held out his other hand.

Staring darkly at his opened palm, the girl then turned her head sharply away from the gun touching her face, coughing out another string of defeated sobs. Giving herself a moment to quiet down, her hand weakly rose up and fell limply into his warm palm, her face still turned away from him. Using his hand she lifted herself, wobbled slightly, and slowly sat on the bed, sinking in a few inches.

Heero heard her cry softly to herself as he reached under the bed, pulling out a folded pair of musty shorts and an over sizes sweatshirt, but showed no sympathy. He merely set them next to her and walked toward the exit.

Pausing at the doorway, he spun around, holding the gun out at eye-level and pointing it at her. The girl's eyes widened.

"Don't try to run. I will kill you, if you do."

Those wide eyes narrowed into slits, her hands held to her chest defensively. She struggled to keep her composure, her nose and eyes reddened, and nodded slowly, her gaze dropping to the floor.

Turning away, he saw her slowly reach for the clothing.

-

Safety on, safety off.

Safety on, safety off.

His thumb felt raw from the continuous motion of pushing the safety on the gun. He'd been doing this for about two hours now, according to the clock on the far wall, and it still hadn't seemed to bore him. Or maybe it had, and he couldn't find anything else to keep his mind off of certain things.

Straddling the back of an aged, poorly-carved wooden chair, Heero rested his chin on an arm draped over the back of it, the other hanging limply at his side as it toyed with the pistol's safety. His stoic, cobalt eyes were glued to the Hospital bed that the girl occupied, the chair he sat in just outside the doorway.

She was sleeping. Curled up into the fetal position, she had drifted off after Heero changed the dressing on her side, which was much easier with her awake. Luckily for him, she was well behaved during that time.

Sitting up and arching his back, Heero stretched in exhaustion as his stomach churned hungrily. Heero looked at his watch again, calculating that the last thing he'd had was the glass of punch at the party – almost twelve hours ago. It was now nine a.m.; Time to restore some energy.

With a groan he raised himself from the chair, reaching behind him and tucking the gun into his waistband as he plodded down the hall toward the kitchen.

As he walked, Heero rubbed his sore shoulder, the fractured joint bringing back memories of when he'd fled from the ballet. Fingering the bridge of his nose in annoyance, he pushed open the weighty, stainless steel doors of the kitchen and strode over to the cupboards. On tip-toe, he rummaged through the canned good and cardboard boxes, finding a small carton of tea bags. He grabbed it, along with some containers of food, and moved over to the stove.

Looking around, he spotted some pots in an open cabinet several feet away. Heero figured he'd probably have to wash them, as he made his way over to them; It'd been years since this place has been in use, along with any of its appliances.

Now with a couple small kettles in hand, he moved to the sink, which looked well corroded. Heero couldn't help but shake his head as he worked the rusty knobs on the faucet, the head of the tap rumbling slightly before a small jet of water hissed out.

With an exasperated sigh he began the mechanical movement of his arm while he scrubbed the kitchenware, the lukewarm water making the thought of unconsciousness pull at his senses again.

Heero quickly blinked away the concept of sleep, rinsing the pans off and filling a small kettle with water.

No time to rest.

Trudging back over to the stove, he lit up two burners and set the water-filled kettle on one and a pot filled with water on the other, leaning half-awake on the counter next to it.

His thoughts couldn't help but wander to the subject of the girl, closing his eyes in irritation at the constant thought of her.

He sighed – he needed answers as soon as possible. His patience was growing thin. When they finished eating, Heero decided, then he would get his answers. Through gentle persuading or brutal interrogation, it didn't really matter to him at this point.

The kettle beside him whistled loudly, the bubbly water ready to be used for his tea. Pouring an appropriate amount into a mug he'd gotten earlier, he slowly dipped the tea bag in and out of the steaming water.

Taking a slow, calming sip, Heero gently set the cup down, picking up the package of dried soup and pouring it in the other pot, with the boiling water. Giving the lumpy fluid a quick stirring, he turned around and rested his body against the counter's edge, eyeing the opening of the girl's room through the tiny windows the Kitchen door. If she tried to flee, she couldn't get out. Heero barricaded all of the exits earlier. She was stuck in this old hospital with him for good, or until she confessed. If she told him what she needed to know, he'd let her go.

Or would he?

Taking another sip from his steaming mug of tea, Heero debated the issue carefully. It would be safe to kill her when he was finished. A bullet to her forehead and he wouldn't have to worry about any loose ends. Faintly, in the pit of his stomach, he felt a sharp tug at the thought. He didn't know why; He had killed before. He was an assassin, after all. Why should this girl, his enemy, be any different?

Thinking back, Heero recalled the first time he allowed Relena to live. He had promised to kill her, yes…but he didn't. She incited compassion in him that he didn't know he had, and he learned to like her. Respect her.

This girl, however, was nothing like Relena. Relena was friendly, and innocent. She was a political figure worth protecting, even though she mistook his attention for affection.

This girl…was not innocent. She was a terrorist, she was determined, and she was a soldier. She was the enemy. So…why is the thought of killing her so difficult to consider?

Because she's…like Heero.

All the proverbial gears in his head came to a slow stop at the very thought of that, Heero's lips lingering on his tea mug.

Is that why? Because he saw himself in her? Because he can sympathize with her way of life? These ideas were so new to Heero. Putting himself in another point of view was not something he ever recalled doing, but now that he had…he feeling a little less like a soldier.

And a little more like a normal person.

But should he kill her? He was still undecided.

Casually, Heero leaned on the counter with a free elbow, and brought the mug up to his lips.

"AH!"

Nearly dropping his cup, all of his random thoughts came to a screeching halt as Heero hiss out, putting pressure on his displaced shoulder, quickly setting down his tea and cradling his arm. Rubbing it slowly, he growled to himself about being so forgetful, and lazy; the fracture should have been set into place a while ago.

Reaching for a spoon in a near by drawer, he hastily bit down on it, already knowing the pain that came with dislocations. He took several deep breaths, focused on ignoring the pain and then jerked his arm up and to the left.

Crack!

His arm was on fire; or at least it felt that way. He tried to steady his now rough breathing, tried not to cry out as he sunk to his knees and clutched the shifted and broken shoulder, hissing furiously through his teeth that clamped down tightly on the spoon. Heero felt his body curling up protectively, felt it weakening, but fought to stand back up, letting the spoon drop to the floor with a clatter. Teeth clenched and arm throbbing, he stood finally, reaching slowly and stiffly for his tea. This minor injury was not going to bother him.

Noticing he was almost gulping his tea, he slowed himself, pacing his ragged breathing as the pain died down.

Just then the buzzer went off noisily beside him; the soup was ready. Taking a few more careful breaths, Heero straightened up and pulled the pot off the burner, pouring steamy soup into two old plaster bowls. He then turned off the burner, tossed the pot in the sink, refilled his mug and pour tea in a new one.

Seating them carefully onto a tray, he made his way slowly toward the girl's room, knowing that she, as well as he, was hungry.

While Heero made his way down the hall, he heard a very faint, strange sound coming from her room. It sounded just like metal scraping against glass. He arched an eyebrow.

Slipping silently into her room through the open door, he watched her struggle to jimmy open the window above the chair he'd sat in earlier. Some of the eroding window was beginning to open, and at the same time the sweatshirt she had on was now stained with blood that seeped from where her wound was. The irregularity in her now heavy panting told Heero that she had been working at this escape since he had left.

Heero set down the tray very gently, pulling his gun free from his pants. Noticing she still hadn't sensed he was in the room yet, he decided to pull back the small metal latch on the back of his weapon, the loud click signaling the gun was locked and loaded.

With a soft cry, the girl spun around and gasped, her eyes filling with dread while Heero sauntered over to her in a matter of seconds, pushing the tip of his revolver into her chest.