Author: Keiran
Title: A World in a Grain of Sand 20/21
Pairings: 1+2+1. Broadly speaking.
Rating: R overall, for no reason really.
Genre: Romance, mild angst, historical sort of fantasy.
Warnings: Shounen-ai, tiny bit of angst.
Archive: Gundam Wing Diaries, Cali0cat's Archive, The Vault, my homepage. If you want it, drop me a line.
Notes: I had this chapter planned for ages, but couldn't quite get into the right frame of mind to actually write it. This is dedicated to all of the emergency services of London, and the amazing job you people are carrying out.
I know it took me ages to get here – I know and I'm very sorry. I hope I will manage to get the final part(s) finished soon. Thank you all for encouragement, it means a lot to me.
Thank you Shenlong Deb for betaing!
xxxXXXxxx
The summer continued to be one of the driest in living memory. The crops grew healthily, continuously nurtured by the rich soil, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that the following year would not be a particularly good one. Fortunately, the threat of a drought did not haunt the minds of the people as yet; nevertheless, the elders declared that caution must be exercised regarding the consumption of water. Heero barely noticed, both because due to his position, no one would dare to remind him, unless the situation was dire indeed, but chiefly due to the fact that as a soldier he was used to rationed provisions. Watching what he ate was almost a habit to him.
Not having many duties, he made a point of visiting the temple frequently. Little Sally seemed to positively glow every time she saw him, and Duo, somehow, seemed so confused most of the time, that he welcomed the pillar of strength gratefully, all the time maintaining the carefully erected barriers between them. Heero, even though he prided himself on patience, often found himself frustrated beyond belief. The situation was simply unreal, he mused frequently. The thrill of having to chase his prize had already worn off, leaving him surprisingly not resigned, but determined to wait, even if waiting was to take a lifetime. What really got to him, however, was the dual nature of his quarry. Duo was warm and kind towards everyone, never losing his smile – never, unless he was facing Heero. It seemed so strange, watching the healer comfort children and parents alike, seeming for all intents and purposes as if he were one of their own, yet freezing out the one person who was in fact closer to him than anyone else on Earth.
Heero sighed heavily. He was far from being discouraged – if anything his resolve seemed to be stronger than ever – but he would have been glad if the results of his efforts were more tangible than an occasional goodnight kiss. His sigh was chased away soon enough – like most matters regarding Duo, the frustration and annoyance mixed with elation and warmth, creating a bittersweet mixture he never knew before.
"Heero," the general heard suddenly. Turning his head, he acknowledged the presence of his healer, surprisingly free of his omnipresent white robe. Inclining his head in greeting, he gestured to the horses grazing nearby.
"It's good to see you," he answered, leaning forward to nuzzle his face against the sun-warmed hair. Without further ado, the two slipped into a comfortable silence, which, as Heero noted, only seem to surround Duo when he was either completely alone or accompanied by him.
Hoisting himself onto Wing's back with hard-earned ease, Heero tugged the reins, directing the animal towards the road, speeding up into a brisk trot, once Deathscythe, with Duo on his back, fell into the familiar position at his side. With little words spoken the general and the healer turned into the narrow way between golden fields, intent on enjoying the summer sun.
xxxXXXxxx
Precariously balancing a bucket of water on his shoulder, Heero grabbed another with his free hand, saving a little boy from a certain painful fall. Motioning for the child to follow, he ran the several paces necessary to pass the buckets into the hands of the nearest villager, who immediately sent it further on through the chain. The whole village, small as it was, gathered, helping to put out the fire that had started in one of the houses and managed to spread to at least three others and a barn before it was brought under control. By the time Heero got to the scene, the peasants managed to stop the flames from spreading throughout all of their homes, leaving only the barn to be put out. The task, seemingly so simple, nevertheless proved to be heart-wrenching for many: the day before fresh grass had been cut and stacked high in the wooden building, a lot of the village children had chosen to spend the evening and night playing on mounds of hay.
Unsurprisingly, the high temperatures and not enough rain in the recent days made everything dry – Heero strongly suspected it took merely one spark to start the disaster. To make matters even worse, this summer, though low on water, would bring many children to local populace; most of the healers were absent from the temple, having set off to villages several hours of brisk march away. The temple, which housed little more than two dozen usually, for as long as Heero could remember, was now very nearly devoid of adult healers. Now, this late at night, it was doubtful many of them returned.
Pushing the grim thoughts out of his mind, Heero gritted his teeth and, as soon as the fire died down to acceptable levels, smashed the doors of the barn and got in, looking for those of the little ones who hadn't managed to escape when the fire broke out. Seeing the heavy log blocking the door though, he cursed to himself. His worst fears were realised soon enough – there were small bodies littering the floor, so many of them unmoving…
Shaking himself harshly, Heero kneeled next to the nearest one, checking for a pulse. Finding none, he swallowed heavily, recognising the remains of telltale red hair. Offering a short prayer for the little boy, he moved on to the next.
The village worked relentlessly, two more men following the general into the still-smoking ruins of the barn, carrying out the injured children. At first there seemed to be so many of them, yet, as Heero soon realised, a little to his relief, that things appeared to be far worse than they actually were. More than a half of the children had managed to escape before the log had fallen and made it to the nearby pond, like they'd been taught to in case of a fire. The little redhead was one of two who died in the barn – about ten were still alive, though wounded.
Carrying the second – and thankfully last – corpse from the ruins, Heero was greatly relieved to notice the familiar chestnut braid resting against a white robe. The healers had arrived. Everything would be fine now, he thought, though a sad expression entered his eyes as he gazed at the badly burned girl in his arms. At that very moment a woman ran to him, a wail escaping her lips as she realised who was in the noble's arms. Taking her daughter from Heero, she hugged her close to her chest, sinking to the ground, wracked by sobs. The man stared at her haplessly for a few moments, before walking off, allowing the mother her grief.
"Is there anything you need?" he asked, kneeling beside Duo who was busy tending to one of the smaller children. The long-haired man turned to him, looking for injuries. Finding none, a soft glow of relief entered his eyes as he shook his head, returning his attention to the little boy in front of him. Working quickly, he went through the motions Heero had seen countless times on a battlefield; rinse the cloth, wash the skin, apply a mixture of herbs, or bread with cobweb, depending what was in supply, bind the wound. Under a skilled hand dressing a wound was the work of but a moment, yet it often decided whether the patient would live to see another day. Having fished tying the wrappings, Duo would smile and offer a few kind words to the peasants before moving on to treat another of the wounded, Heero following, assisting wherever he could. With only three healers around, no one could afford to waste any time on idle pleasantries. Walking from one person to another, his robes losing any pretence of whiteness, Duo barely exchanged a word with Heero, focusing on performing his duties instead. His violet eyes, however, spoke volumes when occasionally the general's managed to catch them. Duo was glad for the subtle comfort his presence offered.
The blue eyed man, though he had been a soldier for most of his life, had seen only so many injuries. The position of the great general called for his presence in the head quarters far more often than in the infirmary, leaving him with only the briefest and most basic knowledge of healing. When his healer stopped by yet another body, he barely managed to stop a dismayed groan from escaping.
Heero had difficulty telling if it was a boy or a girl – their clothes, their hair was burned almost to the skin. The poor thing could do little more than whimper in pain as Duo's bloodied hand carefully ran across its brow. Across from the healer knelt a woman, apparently the child's mother. She didn't cry, her eyes seemed empty. She had little hope left. Heero was ready to say something to comfort her, when to his utter astonishment, Duo spoke first.
"I am so sorry…" he said very softly. "I can do nothing to help her. Please, forgive me." With a final caress to the bloodied face, the young healer got up and quickly made his way to the next child, leaving the stupefied general with the stricken woman, cradling her dying daughter to her chest, heavy tears rolling down her face.
He moved not an inch for several long moments, staring after the slender figure as it waded in between the groups of people, his expression that of complete disbelief. He couldn't understand what had happen, what could have happened. How was that possible?
With great difficulty and understanding that now was not the time to demand explanations, he managed to snap himself from the trance and stumble towards a group of men looking to help with their enterprise while the healers did – or did not do – their job, he thought bitterly. Mechanically he grabbed an axe and went through the motions of chopping down the still-standing logs keeping the ruined barn together. It would have to be rebuilt from scratch, he realised.
Long after the sun rose, Heero finally got back into his luxurious bedroom and fell onto the soft mattress, sinking into the fresh linen. His mind would keep replaying the scene of Duo walking away from a suffering child. How could he do that? Him, a healer. Leave a child to die, a child who was whimpering in pain, no longer strong enough to even cry.
His mind heavy with turmoil, Heero slept.
xxxXXXxxx
Two days had passed in relative peace after the happenings in the village. Upon the news most of the healers had returned, easing the burden on the few that had been present during the fire, looking after the injured. Duo slowly collected the pieces of himself, trying to put his mind off the tragedies he had witnessed not two mornings before. Busying his hands with menial work, he sought solitude, trying to repair the hurt he knew he would be feeling for a long time to come.
The space the other healers granted him to recover however, was invaded curtly by the grim presence of the great general, uncharacteristically in a bout of cold fury as Duo had never before seen him.
"How could you do that!" Heero hissed, staring straight into the violet eyes. "It was just a little girl. How could you let her die?" Somehow, his voice managed to stay even and unemotional, even though his eyes were charged with fury.
"I couldn't have helped her," Duo replied softly, averting his gaze.
"You lie!" Heero said with a deliberate slowness. "I have seen injuries worse than hers being treated, I have seen the people live through it."
"I couldn't have helped her," the healer said again, tonelessly. The general kneeled in front of him and gripped his tunic.
"Look into my face and tell me her injuries were too extensive, too difficult for you to treat. Tell me that, and I will believe you," he implored, turning Duo's face towards his own.
A grave silence descended upon the two of them. Finally, Duo looked away. "No. Her injuries were severe, but not fatal," he answered, his tone wooden. Heero let the thick fabric of the healer's robe slide from his fingers as he sagged down, staring at the long-haired figure in disbelief.
"Why?" he croaked finally. "You let her die. Why?"
The violet-eyed man stood up and gazed down at the general sadly. "I'm sorry, Heero," he whispered, exercising his control to the extremes. He wanted to shed no tears in front of the general now. "It seems I am not the person you want after all." Turning with visible effort, Duo slowly walked back to the temple, never looking back.
TBC.