Progress: 2 of many
General Notes: Thank you muchly for all those who reviewed! Your feedback is much appreciated! Anyway, I figured I should quickly add this note before all you poor readers died of confusion: I haven't finished watching Gundam Wing. In fact, I haven't even gone beyond the sixth episode (which sucks, because it's been sitting in my CD case waiting to be watched, but not being attended to because I don't have the time), and the details of Heero's previous world (as in the supposedly original GW universe) are completely random. Some of them are bits that I remember reading about, and others just stuff I made up to fill the spaces, but please bear in mind that Heero's previous world is about as TWT as one can possibly get. (Bows) I am sorry for not pointing that out earlier…
Music: Room of Angel – Silent Hill 4 OST; Melancholic Rhapsody – Silent Hill 4 OST; Village of the Doomed – American McGee's Alice OST; Dust in the Wind – Sarah Brightman; Fever – Michael Buble; Someday, Someday – Thirsty Merc; You Never Know – Clazziquai; Not an Addict – K-s Choice; Duvet Cyberia remix – Serial Experiments Lain OST

Warmth

By Assassin

Chapter Two

As a soldier, terrorist, assassin and thief, Heero had often come across situations where his ability to adapt and blend in with his surroundings were an absolute necessity. More than often, it was those very abilities that kept him from being discovered and facing certain death. However, as he sat in the music room amongst a group of other students, with a violin resting in his lap and his solo section in music resting on a black stand before him, Heero felt that no amount of adapting on his part could get him past this obstacle. The idea in itself was ludicrous! He was to stand up and play his solo piece by himself when he had no idea how to play a damn violin! Calm down, he told himself seriously, forcing his body to keep its calm exterior, I can do this. This was a violin he was playing, which was not all that different from the piano where the music score was concerned, and he knew how to play a piano. The rest would be self explanatory, or so he hoped. The piano had numerous black and white keys, and the violin only had four strings. Surely it would not be all that pressing a task?

Carefully, Heero reached over and tugged at the string furthest to the left. The violin let out a short and low sound, the string vibrating rapidly. He glanced around quickly, making sure that nobody was watching. The other students appeared to be busy with their own instruments, which was good news for him. Carefully, Heero plucked the string again. If it had been just slightly lower, then it would have been a G. Judging by the boy sitting next to him, who was plucking at his strings and twisting the black knob at the top and the silver knob just under the wooden bridge, Heero assumed he was tuning his violin. So in effect, all he had to do to tune this violin was to twist the correct knobs. Yes, he could do that. Cautiously, he plucked the string again before twisting the black knob ever so slightly. When he plucked his string again, Heero found himself greeted with a most flat, almost tuneless sound. He must have released the knob too much then. Carefully, he twisted the black knob again until the string was taut once again before plucking it again. The sound that met his ears was more similar to a G, but only slightly higher. Carefully, he reached over and twisted the silver knob on the bottom, plucking the string while he was at it. It did the job perfectly, and soon, Heero found with a proper G and feeling immensely proud of himself. Without another thought, he plucked the three other strings, quickly equating them to a D, A and E string, and tuned them accordingly.

By the time he was done, the teacher leading the Strings Orchestra (a name he decided most suitable considering that there were only stringed instruments present) had entered. He was a short man with a shock of white hair, most bright green eyes and a kind face. The students greeted him as one when he entered, with Heero excluded. As it turned out, the man's name was Mr. Jefferson, although most of the students called him Henry. Regardless, the instant the man took his place before his music stand, he tapped his baton twice on the edge of the stand and silence ensued at once. Still smiling, he requested that everyone play G. Heero watched as the people nearest to him lifted their violins, tucking them between their shoulder and chin, and letting their bows slide across the lowest string. It was only then that Heero realized that they had a black, cushiony item resting between their violin bottom and their shoulders. Hastily, Heero reached into his case and pulled out his own shoulder rest and placed it in an imitation on his own violin before lifting his violin quickly and tucking it between his chin and shoulder.

'Anything the matter Heero?' Heero glanced over at the teacher sharply, feeling a severe reprimand coming his way.

'No.' He answered sharply. 'Sorry, I was daydreaming.'

It was an excuse he would have ordinarily never used, nor would he ever allow himself to drift so far in mind as to forget his surroundings. But it was a good enough excuse, and the teacher bought it, smiling kindly as he waited for Heero to grab his bow before requesting G again. Heero drew his bow lightly across the string, watching with a frown as the rows of white horse hair gave way to the wood under.

'Hey.' The boy sitting next to him hissed. 'You forgot to tighten your bow.'

'My mistake.' Heero inspected his bow, unsure how to tighten it. Casually, he ran his hand down the length of the stick, finally resting on the metal knob at the end. Obviously this was where he would tighten it. Letting out a sigh, he turned the knob, watching as the white hair became more lax. Alarmed, Heero quickly turned the knob in the opposite direction, feeling much better when the hair became taut, but just how tight did he have to make this thing? For fear that it might snap, Heero stopped twisting the knob after the hair became only marginally tight. If he needed it to be tighter, then he would adjust it again.

'Heero?' It was the teacher again.

'Sorry.' Heero apologized quickly. 'Unfocused today.'

'Don't worry, no need to hurry.' The teacher smiled. 'We're still waiting on our pianist. But, once again folks, let me here a G.'

This time, when Heero let the bow slide across the string furthest to the left, the note that came was a rich and low G. So this is how you play a violin, he thought dully, trying desperately to sift through his memories until he reached the one where he visited his first and only concert. He had been distracted by the piano that time, but an assassin never leaves out the little details, and only a minor rummage through the memory yielded him the violinists on the side. Men and women in black suits and dresses, sitting in seats much more comfortable than the one he was sitting in, reading music of a stand like he would soon be doing, and playing the violin by letting the fingers on their left hand press down on the black board, holding the strings down under their weight. Heero furrowed his brow, Jefferson had said that they were still waiting on their pianist, which would surely give him some time to experiment and figure out the violin. Heero sighed, feeling somewhat relieved.

The teacher then requested a D, and everyone moved on to the second string, followed by the A and E strings. When they got to the E string, Heero discovered that his E was much higher than what he was hearing, a problem which he quickly rectified before he could become the target of attention again.

Unfortunately for Heero, the pianist showed up just as they finished tuning the violins. As it so happened, the pianist turned out to be a very familiar Chinese boy with a small ponytail. Silently, he wondered if this Wufei was his friend or his enemy, something which he would have to find out later. Sighing, Heero turned back to Mr. Jefferson who was busy tuning the other instruments, which left Heero free but unable to experiment with the basics of violin playing.

'Well then.' The teacher smiled wider. 'From the top.'

There was a moment while all the instruments were readied. Heero lifted his violin in unison with the boy next to him, eyes glancing quickly around the class. With a wide movement, the teacher silently indicated for everyone to begin. Luckily, it seemed that Heero and the violins sitting nearby did not start playing until the eighth bar, which gave him a moment to look at the viola players not so far away. A viola was not all that different from a violin, so he assumed the mechanics behind violas were the same as those for the wooden instrument he was now holding. Carefully, he noted that they pressed their fingers down on similar intervals down the board, and the lower they got, the higher the note, which was reasonable since the string was effectively shortened. Glancing back at his music, Heero quickly read the first line and memorized it. He would play the violin properly when he learnt how, but for now, there would be some seriously experimenting.

And so they begun with a loud and overly dramatic D, before moving onto C which Heero did not know how to play. A quick glance at the boy sitting next to him while still moving his arm in perfect sync to everyone else allowed Heero to approximate just how far the board he had to press to get a C, noticing all the while that the boy placed both his left index and middle finger down, and pulled up his middle finger when it got to B. Memorizing the approximate distances, Heero returned back to his violin, deciding to come in three bars later with a low G before playing a F, purposefully keeping his own music silent so as to adjust where to place his fingers. Three bars later, Heero Yuy had learnt how to play the violin.

-

When he walked out of the music room, Heero was feeling rather proud of himself. It seemed that he had not completely abandoned his skills during his shift into this alternate world. He had not gone far before Relena and Quatre appeared, both wearing anxious expressions as Heero approached. The Japanese boy shot them a sharp look, and Relena stiffened for a moment before racing over to envelope her brother in a most nervous hug. Heero blinked several times, uncertain what he was supposed to do. But Relena flung herself off quickly, her sky blue eyes showing her nervousness.

'How did it go?' She asked. 'I wasn't sure whether you knew how to play the violin, you know, being that you've forgotten…'

'I haven't forgotten anything.' Heero responded irritably. 'As for the practice, it went fine.'

'So you do know how to play the violin!' Relena looked positively joyous.

'No.' Heero shrugged. 'But I learned.'

'You what?' Quatre gave him an incredulous look.

'I learned.' Heero shrugged. 'It took me three bars into my part before I mastered the basics.'

'You learned how to play the violin.' Quatre was looking hysterical. 'In three bars.'

'Plus five minutes before hand while I learnt how to tune it as well.' Heero gave the violin case resting in his hands a mild look. 'It's harder to grasp than the piano, and I haven't had to tune instruments many times prior. But I managed somehow.'

'Of course…' Relena said weakly, offering Heero a sandwich. 'Have some lunch, you've got ten minutes before class starts again.'

-

Heero gazed absently out the window, taking in the blue skies and white clouds. It had been raining where he was fighting, a fierce storm that had lashed at his mobile suit and threatened to rip it into pieces. Heero had not been worried, having fought in worse conditions, but sitting here now in chemistry class with not even the weather to remind him of home almost…hurt. Silently, he wondered just what all this around him meant. Wondered if this could possibly be one of Dr. J's more radical experiments involving how one adapts when thrown into a completely foreign situation. But Heero doubted it, and that was what bothered him the most.

'Heero!' Heero glanced over to the teacher at the front of the class when his name was called, offering only a quirk of one eyebrow to indicate that he was listening. Needless to say, the teacher was not impressed. With an almost childish huff, the chemistry teacher tapped more irritably on the whiteboard, pointing at the sole word that spanned across the whiteboard. 'Mr. Peacecraft, please try to focus! You have already failed two tests and barely passed the most recent one! I daresay you should be listening instead of daydreaming.'

'Yuy.' Heero bit back irritably. 'You have my apologies.'

'What?' The teacher looked taken aback for a moment before returning to herself. 'I don't want your apologies Mr. Yuy! Give me the equation for photosynthesis, unless you've forgotten it.'

'Six carbon dioxide plus six water molecules to give glucose and six oxygen, with the delta H value of plus 2820 kilojoules per mol.' Heero answered monotonously, giving the teacher a bored look. 'This happens in the chlorophyll of plants with the presence of sunlight. Do I need to mention the light and dark reactions and the carbon fixing?'

'Um…no.' The teacher gave Heero a shocked look, something which Heero was seeing more and more often. Once again, he cursed his counterpart for being so pathetically daft before returning his attention to the window and the sky outside. He wanted to be back in a dark little room shared by only himself and Duo, wanted to be sitting at his desk once again typing up mission reports on his trusty laptop while Duo reprimanded him for being a complete and utter workaholic. With a shock, Heero realized that he was not made for peace, that he could not even spend a day in peace without craving the war again. Idiot, that's not true, he told himself quickly, I'm a soldier fighting for peace because I never got the chance to experience it. The only reason why I'm wishing for the war again is because this peace surrounding me now is not one that I have felt before, nor is it one that I won with my own hard work. This peace here is something that I was thrown into without choice, something that is more suffocating than the thought that tomorrow, all five of us pilots might be dead.

Heero groaned silently to himself, pressing his palms hard against his forehead. Since when had he become such an attached fool, he did not know. All he knew was that it hurt to sit there in class, staring around at a group of people he did not know, and bear in mind that the only people he did know were not the people he thought they were. Inadvertently, his mind drew up an image of a furious looking Duo glaring at him for a reason he did not know, and Heero felt his palms curl into fists. For the first time in such a long time, he felt like being openly childish and screaming about how unfair the world was.

-

Heero had been to a psychologist once in the past, but it had been one of Dr. J's associates, and he had come out of the session feeling less complete and more unstable than when he went in. So despite knowing that Relena's mother (who was also his in this ludicrous world) meant well when she drove him off to see Quatre's father, Heero was still reluctant to leave the car. It was childish and pathetic, something he most certainly should have grown out of, and something he definitely would not have attempted if it had been an order. But this was not, and contraire to popular belief, Heero Yuy did worry about his own health and mental state.

'Come on Heero.' Relena's mother cooed kindly. 'We're just going to see Quatre's father.'

'I don't need to visit a psychologist.' Heero growled, unsure whether he was more irritated at the condescending tone she was using or his current predicament. 'I am fine.'

'Sure you are. Come on now, I thought you liked seeing Dr. Winner.'

'No I don't.'

'Stop being so stubborn Heero.'

'I refuse to leave this car, for as good as your intentions may be, Mrs. Peacecraft, I will not permit you to use your position as the other Heero's mother to force me into several hours of mind raping at my expense.'

He had obviously said something wrong, for barely ten minutes later, he found himself sitting in the Mr. Winner's study room, opposite a smiling Mr. Winner with but a large, mahogany desk separating them.

'So, tell me about yourself Heero.' Mr. Winner asked kindly. Heero, who had discovered on more than one occasion within the day the trouble his stray tongue could get him in to, promptly fixed his mouth into a firm line, while making sure to properly process everything before he said it this time. Mr. Winner gave him an imploring look, which reminded him most strongly of those looks Quatre used to give when Heero neglected his own health in favor of something more pressing, such as fixing Wing.

'My name is Heero Yuy.' Heero said finally, giving Mr. Winner his most blank look.

'Yes, I know that.' Mr. Winner smiled. 'But it's never bothered you to be called Heero Peacecraft.'

'My name is Heero Yuy.' Heero repeated firmly. 'Just Heero Yuy.'

'Why?'

'That is my name, and I will not be changing it.'

'Yes, Heero Yuy after your mother, but it has never bothered you to be called Peacecraft.'

'I am not a Peacecraft.' Heero scowled. 'I was not named after my mother, but after a politician whose ideals led to his death.'

'Oh?' Mr. Winner looked intrigued. 'I have never heard of a politician named Heero Yuy.'

'Of course not.' Heero scowled. 'But that does not mean he did not exist.'

'Very true.' Mr. Winner paused for a moment. 'How did you feel about coming to see me today?'

'I was more than a little reluctant.' Heero responded stiffly.

'Why's that?'

'I don't like psychologists.' Heero gave Mr. Winner a hard stare, showing his obvious displeasure. Quatre's father flinched slightly, not used to such raw insights of irritation and anger. Heero suspected that the previous Heero had been mild, which contradicted with Relena's statement about him being a troublemaker. Not that he couldn't not be a troublemaker without being temperamental, but if Duo's animosity towards him was any sign, then the other Heero had to be a pain in the ass under some respects. Your mind is wandering again, he berated himself irritably, angry at his own slip. That seemed to be happening a lot lately, something which he definitely did not agree with.

'So, how was your day today?' Mr. Winner asked cheerfully. Heero gave him a blank look.

'Fine.' He bit out. The word "Fine" was something Heero hated hearing, but conversely loved to use. It was a very ambiguous adjective, which allowed Heero to provide an answer without giving anything away.

'Define fine.'

'I would like to go home now.' Heero said abruptly, standing up quickly. 'Am I excused?'

'It is a little early, but I suppose.' Mr. Winner's alarmed look softened into kindness once again. 'Well, visit me again some time.'

'Perhaps.' Heero nodded his goodbye before turning around and leaving, his posture and pace every bit as stiff and measured as his training dictated, although it seemed more like a last ditch effort of comforting himself that he was not slipping, even to him.

-

The first thing that came to Heero's mind when he returned to the Peacecraft home was to reorganize his bedroom. If he was to live in it for the next undetermined amount of time, then it was going to be hygienic, organized and fit with his creature comforts, although he would never admit that he had any. At present, the room looked like a tornado had blown right through it, throwing everything everywhere. It was the sort of disorganization he expected from Duo on one of the Deathscythe pilot's worse days, definitely not something he anticipated an alternate version of himself to do.

Upon entering the room, Heero dropped his school bag and violin case neatly on the only bit of empty ground beside the door. Next, he shrugged off his blazer and tie, hanging them neatly after removing the dirty clothing from the coat hanger sitting in the corner of the room. With a sigh, Heero released the top two buttons of his shirt, rolled up his sleeves and went to work.

He cleared the floor first, frown deepening as he unearthed more dirty clothes. From the smell of some of those garments, he estimated their last washing to be at least a month prior. Making a face of disgust, Heero discarded the unwashed clothing in a large heap in the center of the room, which only grew steadily larger as he continued through the room. The desk was his next target, and following it, the bookcase and the walls. There was no need for all those random posters, although his fingers hesitated before a particular artwork. Unlike most of the other posters he had taken down, this one was original, probably the work of somebody he knew (or his other self knew).There was a little inscription on the bottom right which dated the piece to two years back, but the signature was one he did not recognize.

Heero stared at the image for ages, unsure whether to take it down or not. It appeared to be a sketch of a man, his back to the viewer, standing on the precipice of destruction. Around him, the world was collapsing, becoming distorted and fading away into nothingness. But still, the man did not look worried, his shoulders remaining straight and his stance that of a wise man who knows he is about to die, and has accepted it without any reluctance. The shading done was phenomenal, and despite the common A3 paper on which it was drawn, the image still inspired something inside Heero. Sighing once, he moved away from the picture. That one was going to stay.

He was halfway through reorganizing the closet when he heard Relena's gasp of shock. Having heard her approaching ever since she walked onto the landing outside, Heero turned to face her, completely unsurprised. Relena's blue eyes were wide, the mug of coffee she held forgotten before her in a gesture that indicated how she was going to offer it to Heero. The Japanese boy quirked an eyebrow, shooting her a questioning look which pulled her out of her revere.

'Oh my.' Relena drew in a shuddering breath. 'You cleaned your room!'

'Yes.' Heero replied obviously before turning back to his closet, fishing out items that appeared to have been thrown in hurriedly by the previous occupant. He frowned when his seeking fingers met a cool, cardboard box, pulling the box out carefully from under a large stack of magazines. Brushing off the dust sitting in the corners, Heero opened the box and sighed. It was the computer startup box, containing all the necessary drivers, software and various other CDs that appeared to have accumulated over time. Silently, he dropped the box on top of the now cleaned desk, reminding himself that he would have to take a closer look at it later.

'Why are you cleaning your room?' Relena asked, finally seeming to overcome her shock as she walked in and settled at Heero's desk.

'Because it was messy.' Heero responded obviously, stepping back into the wardrobe to pull out a disused laptop carrier bag from under a heap of unfolded clothing.

'You…really are different.' The resignation in her voice was enough to make Heero turn around to glance at her once more. Her blue eyes were sad as she set the mug down on the tabletop. 'Of course you're different. You've been acting differently all day but…somehow, I thought that perhaps it was all just a passing…but now…' Relena took a deep breath, her chest rising with her attempts at controlling herself. 'You really aren't my little brother.'

'No, I'm not.' Heero sighed, forcing a kind expression onto his face as best as he could. 'But I'm still Heero, always have been.'

'Not my Heero.' Relena looked away.

'Hn.' Heero grunted, pondering for a moment with what he should say next. 'Relena?'

'Yes?'

'Did the other me visit the psychologist often?'

'A few times.' Relena answered with a small sigh. 'Why?'

'Just thinking that your mother's almost instantaneous solution of visiting the psychologist seemed a bit unusual.'

'You're a troublemaker.' Relena explained, looking almost wistful for a moment. 'You used to do a lot of stupid things just to get out of school. When you started acting strange, I thought it was just another one of your pranks, but I played along anyway. We are really quite lucky to have Dr. Winner as such a close family friend, no one else would deal with some of your, or rather the other Heero's pranks. It was only a week ago when yo-he insisted that he had agoraphobia. Dr. Winner had quite the laugh when mom took you over to see him after school, which she insisted you go to despite your "phobia".' Relena gave him a sad smile. 'I suppose I thought you were playing a game again, but it seemed less and less likely as school passed, and now…well, definitely no "order for the talented and blessed" right?'

'Messiness bothers me.' Heero shrugged. 'Although it does remind me of my roommate, well, former roommate I suppose.'

'He was really messy then?' Relena smiled, picking up the mug of coffee and offering it to Heero.

'Du-he knew he was messy.' Heero explained, cutting himself off quickly before he blurted out his former roommate's name. It was not a good idea to mention Duo's name right now. 'But he would never clean it. Sometimes, I think he did it just to get a rise out of me.'

'Sounds like a mischievous person.'

'Yea, he is…was…whatever.' Heero sighed, glancing at the window, uncertain what else to say. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Relena staring at him, her expression hesitant, as if unsure what to make of his words. Shaking his head quickly, he turned back to her, doing the best to put a neutral expression on his face. 'Is dinner ready yet? I would very much like to eat soon.'

'Huh? Oh yes, dinner will be ready in a bit.' Relena smiled slightly, leaning back so that her back touched the wall. Heero sat down on the bed, wondering all the while whether the Duo he knew was going to become past tense.

Silence reined, but neither he nor Relena tried to break it.

Endnotes:

I know, I am evil and I am slow and I haven't touched this story in ages. I offer you all my apologies, and also excuses as usual. I had exams, horrible, horrible exams which went pathetically and I'm going to die when results come out mid-December. Argh. I'm still uncertain whether my English has returned back to…well…normal, speaking English instead of something weird sounding like Yoda-speech. My German exam really had my brain in a loop, and for several days, I kept randomly shifting verbs around. Anyway, think that's cured now, and hoped you all enjoyed the second installment of warmth (un-betaed). If anyone has the time to offer as a beta, I would be very grateful. In any case, feedback is always appreciated, and makes this writer feel loved.