Chapter 5
Heero walked briskly down a hall of Quatre's estate, wiping his greasy hands on a rag from the hanger. In the absence of a mission, Heero had taken to repairing the ruined Sandrock to keep himself occupied. The white Gundam had been very nearly destroyed, and he had been working steadily for the past three days, breaking only for food, sleep, and his brief watches at Quatre's bedside.
After the battle, Trowa had refused to leave his injured lover's side, but exhaustion finally forced him to eat and sleep, so Duo helped him make up a bed in Quatre's room. They always wanted one alert pilot nearby, so the other three had slipped into a routine of splitting the time Trowa slept equally among themselves. For three days the pilots held worried vigil over their friend and leader, and for three days Heero had spent the remainder of his time in the hangar. After all this time he was finally forced to admit that he was getting lonely.
Since he had known them, Duo and Quatre had made it their goal to pull Wing's pilot out of his antisocial patterns and into closer friendships with the rest of the pilots. Though their methods had . . . differed, Heero admitted with a small smile that both had been extremely effective. Duo became the other half of his soul while Quatre was the friend and strength always present to fall back on in inevitable moments of weakness. At first he had been a subtle link with the other pilots -- save Duo -- providing quiet support, and assistance in Heero's own fumbling attempts to form friendly relationships. Heero had gradually grown out of that need, as had the rest of the group, but Quatre remained a close friend and their uncontested leader. Any combination of the five could work as a coherent team on their own now, but none ever forgot who it was that brought them together.
Another "miracle" Duo was fond of commenting on, was the fact that Heero Yuy had finally begun to admit that weakness is the natural companion of strength, and that no one can be strong all the time. It had taken him a long time to realize it, and nearly at the cost of Quatre's life, but the necessity of weakness was one lesson the ZERO system had taught him well.
Without his friends Heero would not have survived even half of this war, let alone lived through a full year and a half of it. The longer he fought beside them, the more he grew to depend on them, a circumstance he no longer feared, but actually enjoyed. If battle brought him one tiny pleasure for all the pain, it was the knowledge that his friends would be there, no matter the cost or consequences, when he needed them. He now had hope -- if not absolute faith -- that the five of them would survive through this war to see the peace they had fought so hard for.
Though he was headed toward the kitchen, Heero paused by the door to the library. This was Wufei's favorite haunt of the mansion, but the usual contemplative silence was broken by quiet voices.
". . . don't get it." Duo's frustrated voice was clear, ringing into the hall though his tone was soft, as befitted his location.
"When Yuy returns we shall ask him. He seemed to know more about the situation than the rest of us, even Trowa." That could only be Wufei. As close as they had become, the Chinese boy still refused to refer to any one of the pilots by his first name. When he first knew him Heero had seen this as a sign of contempt, as a teacher addressing disobedient students, but he now believed otherwise. Wufei had great pride in his family, clan, and ancestors. His name was a prize to be cherished, and he was honoring each of his friends by addressing them with the honor he would show a clan leader.
"Yeah, but he's been hiding out in the hangar since we got back. He won't tell me anything! Should we go find him?"
"I'm right here, Duo." Both dark heads turned to his voice, each acknowledging him with a nod and slight smile, though Duo's immediately widened into a grin.
"The mechanic lives!" the braided wonder crowed as Heero settled in a full chair beside him.
Ignoring the exuberant idiocy, Heero turned to Wufei. "Yes, I think it's time we talked."
Duo stood abruptly, his mood once again somber. I'll go check on Trowa. He'll want to know what's going on." With that he spun and strode out of the room, braid flipping behind him. The two Asian boys sat in silence, gathering their thoughts until the room was re-entered, this time by a different brunette. Heero immediately snapped to attention, locking gazes with Trowa, searching for any signs of trouble. The worry remained, and a deep sadness, but a slight expression of relief graced his features as well.
"What happened?" he demanded before Wufei had a chance to voice the same question.
"Quatre woke up a little while ago, and I felt comfortable leaving Duo with him for now. He agreed that I should be here for whatever it is you have to say."
Heero mentally winced, this was turning into more and more of an interrogation, but accepted the fact that he had initiated this little meeting. As Trowa settled himself, Heero organized the last of his thoughts.
"You know the ZERO system in Sandrock caused this." He paused, trying to word his thoughts carefully so as not to reveal too much and break his promise to Quatre. "I believe he uses the system to block the pain of battle and clear his head. He then chooses to ignore his injuries, and we all know how strong willed he is. He pushes himself past reasonable limits, and continues fighting until he collapses."
"And you knew about this during the battle." Wufei's voice was not challenging, but slightly hurt. Whether he felt he should have realized this on his own or that Yuy should have told him was unclear.
"Yes," Heero sighed, "but not till the end. Once we stopped fighting I got a chance to look at his eyes." Trowa inhaled sharply and Heero looked up, nodding, then turned to Wufei. "When Quatre uses the ZERO system his eyes turn a flat gray."
"Gray?"
"Cold," Trowa murmured, and again Heero nodded.
"There's no better way to describe it, but you'll know it when you see it.
"When the battle was over I saw his eyes and the shape of his Gundam and wanted to get us back to base as soon as possible. I wasn't sure what to expect this time, but it wasn't total collapse."
"This time?" Wufei never was one to miss details.
"He's used the system at least once since the Christmas strike, possibly more."
"When?" Trowa's voice was calm, but Heero knew that inside he was shaking.
"When you were burned so severely at Oberly."
"Damn."
"After we took care of you I found him in his Gundam, shivering. The state didn't last, but if I expected anything after this battle it was for him to be cold, and possibly in mild shock, but that was it."
Wufei sighed. "And neither of you ever told the rest of us this?"
Heero shook his head.
"Why does he need it?" Trowa asked. "He's always fought just fine without it, why the sudden change?"
"I don't know."
"He's seemed to get hurt more frequently over the past several weeks, but I attributed it to stress. We've all been pushing ourselves to the limit since Christmas, Quatre most of all." He frowned. "I think he blames himself for the war not ending there. It's wearing on him."
"If he is a liability then why is he fighting with us at all?"
Silence descended on the room.
Trowa looked up with an icy stare as Heero added his own disapproving glare, but Wufei immediately raised one elegant hand in defense.
"Forgive me, that was poorly phrased. Please allow me to explain." His eyes closed and his hand fell back into his lap. "Winner is a strategist, quite possibly the best among us. His role is to analyze the present situation and decide what course of action is best for the team. This requires that he know each member's strengths and weaknesses, including his own, and implies that he realize, more than the rest of us, how vital each of those strengths is to our eventual success. If, for some reason, he is more likely to be injured than the rest of us, it is his duty to alter his strategy to protect himself. This is the only way we can be most effective, and ensure the greatest success with the least harm.
He is our leader, and as such, it is his duty to keep himself alive until our battle is over and his skills are no longer required. If this necessitates his absence from battle, directing our movements from a distance and leaving us to accept the danger, so be it.
Quatre, despite all his knowledge and abilities, refuses to do this, and continues to put the success of our missions, as well as our lives, at risk by recklessly endangering his own. He should realize this, must realize this, yet he continues to risk himself irresponsibly. His obvious skill proves he must be aware of this tactical . . . danger, which he repeats battle after battle.
"He must have some valid reason to risk so much." Wufei leaned forward with folded hands until his elbows rested on his knees.
"I simply wish to know what that reason is."
Heero nodded, silently impressed by the Chinese boy's perception of the situation, which - to his calculating mind - was entirely accurate. Quatre was endangering himself needlessly, but he was far too good to do so without a reason.
He instantly re-analyzed their previous battles, both before the fair- skinned Arab had accepted his role as leader and afterward. In each and every battle Quatre seemed to place his friends' health and safety before his own.
'Maybe that's the problem,' he mused, 'his reason. He cares for us and doesn't want us to get hurt.' He shook his head. 'But he's too competent a strategist for that. Wufei's right. He's endangering all of us by risking himself, and he's too good not to realize that. He would never jeopardize our lives because of his own emotions.'
'I know he feels our pain. Could his actions stem from that?' He quickly gauged the possibilities, but none seemed to fit. Firstly, he could not imagine the blonde altering his plans and gambling their success simply to ease his own pain. Secondly, he was certainly not saving himself any torture by placing himself in front of a Taurus' missile aimed for Trowa.
'It simply doesn't make sense.'
"Heero," Wufei's calm voice interrupted his thoughts. "Any ideas?" One elegantly arched eyebrow spoke volumes, but Heero knew he could be more stubborn than any of his fellow pilots.
'He knows I know something. I should tell them, but I promised Quatre I wouldn't.' He shook his head, glaring right back at Wufei. 'It doesn't seem relevant anyway. If they need to know I'll tell them then.'
Wufei held his challenging gaze on Heero a moment longer, making his disapproval felt before turning to Trowa.
The lanky boy was frowning, and Heero could see the confusion swirling behind his emerald eyes. He sighed and allowed his head to fall into his hands.
"I don't know," he admitted quietly. "He's always been more concerned for others than for himself, but I simply accepted it as his nature." He fell silent for a long while as Heero and Wufei waited patiently. Finally he looked up, startling the other pilots with the concern now evident in his features. "Rashid once told me that . . ." he paused, trying to remember every word and intonation as accurately as possible. ". . . 'The young master does not realize his own worth.' At the time I simply took it as his expression of respect, but maybe he was being more literal than I realized."
Again Heero nodded. It made sense, in a way. The Maguanac general had been fighting with Quatre for years, he would certainly know his strategic style, and once Trowa became a trusted ally, it would be in Quatre's best interest for Rashid to share any shortcomings with his master's partners. Their lives may eventually depend on such knowledge.
Once again Wufei's voice broke into Heero's thoughts. "Trowa, you should sleep. We will have time to figure this out. Quatre will not be well enough to fight again for several weeks, and we cannot do more than speculate until he is able to speak with us. We can do no good by idle conjecture. When he is ready, then we will talk."
Trowa nodded and headed toward his room, Wufei following not far behind, but Heero remained on the couch, still trying to piece together the puzzle he now recognized as Quatre. He had never truly realized how little he knew about the blonde pilot, this boy whom he trusted with his life. Quatre's friendly manner led people to believe they were seeing right through him, but that was as much a defense as Duo's laughter. Quatre was like a puzzle with the border complete, but the middle a shambles. Heero had no idea what was hidden beneath the angelic facade, and it bothered him.
"Yes, Quatre, when you're ready, we will talk."
* * *
Heero walked briskly down a hall of Quatre's estate, wiping his greasy hands on a rag from the hanger. In the absence of a mission, Heero had taken to repairing the ruined Sandrock to keep himself occupied. The white Gundam had been very nearly destroyed, and he had been working steadily for the past three days, breaking only for food, sleep, and his brief watches at Quatre's bedside.
After the battle, Trowa had refused to leave his injured lover's side, but exhaustion finally forced him to eat and sleep, so Duo helped him make up a bed in Quatre's room. They always wanted one alert pilot nearby, so the other three had slipped into a routine of splitting the time Trowa slept equally among themselves. For three days the pilots held worried vigil over their friend and leader, and for three days Heero had spent the remainder of his time in the hangar. After all this time he was finally forced to admit that he was getting lonely.
Since he had known them, Duo and Quatre had made it their goal to pull Wing's pilot out of his antisocial patterns and into closer friendships with the rest of the pilots. Though their methods had . . . differed, Heero admitted with a small smile that both had been extremely effective. Duo became the other half of his soul while Quatre was the friend and strength always present to fall back on in inevitable moments of weakness. At first he had been a subtle link with the other pilots -- save Duo -- providing quiet support, and assistance in Heero's own fumbling attempts to form friendly relationships. Heero had gradually grown out of that need, as had the rest of the group, but Quatre remained a close friend and their uncontested leader. Any combination of the five could work as a coherent team on their own now, but none ever forgot who it was that brought them together.
Another "miracle" Duo was fond of commenting on, was the fact that Heero Yuy had finally begun to admit that weakness is the natural companion of strength, and that no one can be strong all the time. It had taken him a long time to realize it, and nearly at the cost of Quatre's life, but the necessity of weakness was one lesson the ZERO system had taught him well.
Without his friends Heero would not have survived even half of this war, let alone lived through a full year and a half of it. The longer he fought beside them, the more he grew to depend on them, a circumstance he no longer feared, but actually enjoyed. If battle brought him one tiny pleasure for all the pain, it was the knowledge that his friends would be there, no matter the cost or consequences, when he needed them. He now had hope -- if not absolute faith -- that the five of them would survive through this war to see the peace they had fought so hard for.
Though he was headed toward the kitchen, Heero paused by the door to the library. This was Wufei's favorite haunt of the mansion, but the usual contemplative silence was broken by quiet voices.
". . . don't get it." Duo's frustrated voice was clear, ringing into the hall though his tone was soft, as befitted his location.
"When Yuy returns we shall ask him. He seemed to know more about the situation than the rest of us, even Trowa." That could only be Wufei. As close as they had become, the Chinese boy still refused to refer to any one of the pilots by his first name. When he first knew him Heero had seen this as a sign of contempt, as a teacher addressing disobedient students, but he now believed otherwise. Wufei had great pride in his family, clan, and ancestors. His name was a prize to be cherished, and he was honoring each of his friends by addressing them with the honor he would show a clan leader.
"Yeah, but he's been hiding out in the hangar since we got back. He won't tell me anything! Should we go find him?"
"I'm right here, Duo." Both dark heads turned to his voice, each acknowledging him with a nod and slight smile, though Duo's immediately widened into a grin.
"The mechanic lives!" the braided wonder crowed as Heero settled in a full chair beside him.
Ignoring the exuberant idiocy, Heero turned to Wufei. "Yes, I think it's time we talked."
Duo stood abruptly, his mood once again somber. I'll go check on Trowa. He'll want to know what's going on." With that he spun and strode out of the room, braid flipping behind him. The two Asian boys sat in silence, gathering their thoughts until the room was re-entered, this time by a different brunette. Heero immediately snapped to attention, locking gazes with Trowa, searching for any signs of trouble. The worry remained, and a deep sadness, but a slight expression of relief graced his features as well.
"What happened?" he demanded before Wufei had a chance to voice the same question.
"Quatre woke up a little while ago, and I felt comfortable leaving Duo with him for now. He agreed that I should be here for whatever it is you have to say."
Heero mentally winced, this was turning into more and more of an interrogation, but accepted the fact that he had initiated this little meeting. As Trowa settled himself, Heero organized the last of his thoughts.
"You know the ZERO system in Sandrock caused this." He paused, trying to word his thoughts carefully so as not to reveal too much and break his promise to Quatre. "I believe he uses the system to block the pain of battle and clear his head. He then chooses to ignore his injuries, and we all know how strong willed he is. He pushes himself past reasonable limits, and continues fighting until he collapses."
"And you knew about this during the battle." Wufei's voice was not challenging, but slightly hurt. Whether he felt he should have realized this on his own or that Yuy should have told him was unclear.
"Yes," Heero sighed, "but not till the end. Once we stopped fighting I got a chance to look at his eyes." Trowa inhaled sharply and Heero looked up, nodding, then turned to Wufei. "When Quatre uses the ZERO system his eyes turn a flat gray."
"Gray?"
"Cold," Trowa murmured, and again Heero nodded.
"There's no better way to describe it, but you'll know it when you see it.
"When the battle was over I saw his eyes and the shape of his Gundam and wanted to get us back to base as soon as possible. I wasn't sure what to expect this time, but it wasn't total collapse."
"This time?" Wufei never was one to miss details.
"He's used the system at least once since the Christmas strike, possibly more."
"When?" Trowa's voice was calm, but Heero knew that inside he was shaking.
"When you were burned so severely at Oberly."
"Damn."
"After we took care of you I found him in his Gundam, shivering. The state didn't last, but if I expected anything after this battle it was for him to be cold, and possibly in mild shock, but that was it."
Wufei sighed. "And neither of you ever told the rest of us this?"
Heero shook his head.
"Why does he need it?" Trowa asked. "He's always fought just fine without it, why the sudden change?"
"I don't know."
"He's seemed to get hurt more frequently over the past several weeks, but I attributed it to stress. We've all been pushing ourselves to the limit since Christmas, Quatre most of all." He frowned. "I think he blames himself for the war not ending there. It's wearing on him."
"If he is a liability then why is he fighting with us at all?"
Silence descended on the room.
Trowa looked up with an icy stare as Heero added his own disapproving glare, but Wufei immediately raised one elegant hand in defense.
"Forgive me, that was poorly phrased. Please allow me to explain." His eyes closed and his hand fell back into his lap. "Winner is a strategist, quite possibly the best among us. His role is to analyze the present situation and decide what course of action is best for the team. This requires that he know each member's strengths and weaknesses, including his own, and implies that he realize, more than the rest of us, how vital each of those strengths is to our eventual success. If, for some reason, he is more likely to be injured than the rest of us, it is his duty to alter his strategy to protect himself. This is the only way we can be most effective, and ensure the greatest success with the least harm.
He is our leader, and as such, it is his duty to keep himself alive until our battle is over and his skills are no longer required. If this necessitates his absence from battle, directing our movements from a distance and leaving us to accept the danger, so be it.
Quatre, despite all his knowledge and abilities, refuses to do this, and continues to put the success of our missions, as well as our lives, at risk by recklessly endangering his own. He should realize this, must realize this, yet he continues to risk himself irresponsibly. His obvious skill proves he must be aware of this tactical . . . danger, which he repeats battle after battle.
"He must have some valid reason to risk so much." Wufei leaned forward with folded hands until his elbows rested on his knees.
"I simply wish to know what that reason is."
Heero nodded, silently impressed by the Chinese boy's perception of the situation, which - to his calculating mind - was entirely accurate. Quatre was endangering himself needlessly, but he was far too good to do so without a reason.
He instantly re-analyzed their previous battles, both before the fair- skinned Arab had accepted his role as leader and afterward. In each and every battle Quatre seemed to place his friends' health and safety before his own.
'Maybe that's the problem,' he mused, 'his reason. He cares for us and doesn't want us to get hurt.' He shook his head. 'But he's too competent a strategist for that. Wufei's right. He's endangering all of us by risking himself, and he's too good not to realize that. He would never jeopardize our lives because of his own emotions.'
'I know he feels our pain. Could his actions stem from that?' He quickly gauged the possibilities, but none seemed to fit. Firstly, he could not imagine the blonde altering his plans and gambling their success simply to ease his own pain. Secondly, he was certainly not saving himself any torture by placing himself in front of a Taurus' missile aimed for Trowa.
'It simply doesn't make sense.'
"Heero," Wufei's calm voice interrupted his thoughts. "Any ideas?" One elegantly arched eyebrow spoke volumes, but Heero knew he could be more stubborn than any of his fellow pilots.
'He knows I know something. I should tell them, but I promised Quatre I wouldn't.' He shook his head, glaring right back at Wufei. 'It doesn't seem relevant anyway. If they need to know I'll tell them then.'
Wufei held his challenging gaze on Heero a moment longer, making his disapproval felt before turning to Trowa.
The lanky boy was frowning, and Heero could see the confusion swirling behind his emerald eyes. He sighed and allowed his head to fall into his hands.
"I don't know," he admitted quietly. "He's always been more concerned for others than for himself, but I simply accepted it as his nature." He fell silent for a long while as Heero and Wufei waited patiently. Finally he looked up, startling the other pilots with the concern now evident in his features. "Rashid once told me that . . ." he paused, trying to remember every word and intonation as accurately as possible. ". . . 'The young master does not realize his own worth.' At the time I simply took it as his expression of respect, but maybe he was being more literal than I realized."
Again Heero nodded. It made sense, in a way. The Maguanac general had been fighting with Quatre for years, he would certainly know his strategic style, and once Trowa became a trusted ally, it would be in Quatre's best interest for Rashid to share any shortcomings with his master's partners. Their lives may eventually depend on such knowledge.
Once again Wufei's voice broke into Heero's thoughts. "Trowa, you should sleep. We will have time to figure this out. Quatre will not be well enough to fight again for several weeks, and we cannot do more than speculate until he is able to speak with us. We can do no good by idle conjecture. When he is ready, then we will talk."
Trowa nodded and headed toward his room, Wufei following not far behind, but Heero remained on the couch, still trying to piece together the puzzle he now recognized as Quatre. He had never truly realized how little he knew about the blonde pilot, this boy whom he trusted with his life. Quatre's friendly manner led people to believe they were seeing right through him, but that was as much a defense as Duo's laughter. Quatre was like a puzzle with the border complete, but the middle a shambles. Heero had no idea what was hidden beneath the angelic facade, and it bothered him.
"Yes, Quatre, when you're ready, we will talk."
* * *
