Thirty second Gundam Wing:
fluffy angst, 2x1
The Long Way
Dr J would have told him, 'You can't escape your life, Heero.' Meaning that running away had never solved anything. You took your troubles with you, no matter how far you went, because they were always lodged firmly in your heart.
Heero had been running away from life, from his failure to break free of the soldier that he had always been. Buy an apartment, buy a car, hold a job, and follow the laws like every other man. A simple mission directive; a simple formula for the rest of his life. He couldn't put the gun away, though, couldn't stop habits of a lifetime that kept him anonymous and hair trigger. Friends were dangerous, the old lessons told him, and staying in one place a recipe for disaster. They would find him, though the 'they' was a distinct paranoia now, instead of anyone in particular. That paranoia had built to a level Heero couldn't ignore any longer. Slamming clothes into a pack, jumping on his motorcycle, and taking off for parts unknown, had become an imperative.
Heero couldn't say what had happened. The feeling of finally being 'free', of finally relaxing and feeling 'safe' had been too brief. The bike had hit something on the road. A slick of oil, a rock, or maybe the tire itself had been defective? Whatever the cause, Heero had slid with the bike, rolled over and over in a tangle of metal and flesh, and come hard against the bottom of a tree on the side of the road.
It was hard to think. Heero felt intense pain, the bike resting on his legs and digging into flesh. Something was broken... his head, maybe, a leg, or perhaps his twisted arm? Nothing came into focus. The strength, that made him superior to most men, had saved his life, but it was useless when his mind refused to consider what to do with it.
The sun was hot, the road a lonely stretch of nothingness in an empty countryside. The odds of anyone coming that way were slim. The time it would take for rescue to reach him, perhaps too much to do him any good. There had to be bleeding, concussion, trauma of some sort that was robbing him of his life.
Heero fumbled in his jacket pocket and found his cell phone. He couldn't see it, could only feel the buttons with a numbed hand, his other refusing to rise and perform any task. 911? Preventer headquarters? Information? Heero's mind was in a haze as he tried to think, tried to pull himself together enough to do something to save himself. At last, he managed to punch in a number, his mind grasping for coherency.
"Yello?" A familiar voice answered, "Maxwell here."
Heero tried to talk, small thoughts chasing themselves in confusion. Duo? Why had he called him? They had barely spoken since the war. Both of them had joined Preventers, but they had worked in different areas of expertise. Duo's number had been called once, to ask about a certain case number. The conversation had taken place over a year ago and had taken all of one minute.
"Duo?" Heero slurred.
Silence and then a confused, "Heero, that you, buddy?"
"Duo," Heero repeated. "I... I need you..."
"Uhm, okay," Duo replied brightly. "What can I do you for?"
"Help...," Heero repeated just as the darkness pulled him under.
Consciousness came with pain. Heero blinked and recognized that he was lying in a hospital room, body bandaged and braced.
"Hey, there," Duo said softly.
Heero turned his head and saw Duo looking down at him in worry. Something strong stirred in Heero on seeing that familiar face, those concerned eyes, and that tangle of bangs and impossible braid.
"I locked onto your cell signal," Duo told him. "The paramedics found you just in time. You scared the shit out of me, Heero buddy,"
Heero nodded, his eyes drinking Duo in, seeing his intense concern and something that he had refused to see before, something he had unwisely ignored because of an inner voice telling him not to compromise himself with friends, coworkers, and... relationships.
"Where were you going?" Duo wanted to know. "That road led to no where USA."
"To you," Heero replied. "I was coming to you. I just took... the long way."