My ramblings-

Hi guys!

So I've got a few reviews, follows and favs, and I really appreciate that!

I was hoping to get a chapter out a day but I found myself getting so into the story that I would 'waste' a good portion of my day. That's going to have to change as I've suddenly found myself having a (part time) job but it'll give me plenty of time to think, and probably take notes, on what I want to happen in the fic. So far I have plenty of ideas about when and how they're all going to meet Duo again (in three years time, of course), and when they're all going to be released from their separate 'prisons', but honestly as I currently get down onto my computer to type, I just type what feels right then self-edit as I go along and make sure it doesn't cause any plot problems. So in a way I'm looking forward to when they all get back together, because at least I know what I'm doing then!

I've also got into not only buying, but designing Gundam Wing doujinshi (comics). I'm not sure how one gets into the business when they are copyrighted characters, and I see very few in English, but I'd certainly like to make a condensed version (though it can have multiple comics) of my fanfiction, if it turns out how I feel it should. I own around 10-15 doujinshi myself (which wasn't cheap as I have to get them shipped in from America!) and honestly, none of them are above a PG-13 rating, so the fact my guys aren't oiled up and wrestling this far in isn't the end of the world... Well, the world of comics, anyway.

So I'm looking for someone who may be interested in helping me sum up my chapters in a way that transfers more to paper. Some sentences, such as Wufei watching Duo try and escape across the hall, lend more to this than others, but I have trouble dropping even a single sentence - that's why my rambling is so long ;)

If you think you can help, please send me a PM. Additionally, I am still looking for a proof reader, though I've had no-one run at me with pitchforks and fire yet, so I can't be doing that awful a job.

Oh! Same warnings as before, some dudes like other dudes, some chicks like other chicks, very minor sex scenes involving the former; there's some minor violence/blood in this chapter, minor swearing and some misogyny from Wufei. This is a very dramatic, action-packed chapter with some nice additional normalization of the pilots.

That's my rambling over! We're staying on Wufei this time, so sorry Duo fans who wanted that cliffhanger resolved - next chapter, I promise!


Some Things Don't Need To Be Said

Chapter 4 - Cabin Fever

Over four weeks trapped in one place, and we were starting to get testy. The fresh fruit and vegetables ran out over the weekend and Winner ran about like some woman would. He was worried that his precious Burton wouldn't get his vitamins - Burton, who had confided me about the times curled up on hard ground, in an inescapable hug from a mercenary three times his age who could kill him in his sleep; Burton, who stuck his arms into lions' dens and allowed a possible sister to throw knives at him on a spinning wheel; Burton, who, when out of bullets on Heavyarms, was more than happy to self destruct.

I watched Winner cluck as I sat in the kitchen, idly noticing Burton nor Yuy were here to help me out of this jam. Typical. Why did it feel like, even in this tiny place, I was always the one here to sort out any squabbles between us all or signs of Winner about to implode. They were probably off playing gin or something, perfectly able to hear Winner's wailing about the lack of carrots and just smirking. I could almost picture it.

I stood, the chair legs scraping against the floor gaining his attention. "Burton doesn't care about vitamins, Winner. He didn't get a chance to during the war, and he didn't after, but look what a Goliath he's become." It was true - at well over six foot tall, the lack of vitamins clearly hadn't phased the young boy. Of course, it could have been some steroid the doctors put in him - but if him, why not the rest of us? I wasn't exactly happy being just taller than Winner, who stood shorter than most women, but I knew not to blame it on vitamins.

The land of L5 had been cultivated to be lush, growing both fruits and vegetables that would be recognized on earth, and more exotic fare, some of it lost forever in the destruction. I had my herbal and flower-infused teas, too - teas for injury or sickness, teas for headaches, teas to help studying, to help fighting. I had managed to find and, once or twice, make up weak comparisons using earth herbs and flowers when me and Nataku camped outside. Nothing could compare to the diet on my home colony, although I was slowly getting used to to earth teas, even if they didn't quite tap into my power like they used to.

I got up and went over to the kettle, filling it with water from the tap with enough for all four of us - force of habit - and putting it on to boil before turning to Winner, who was rummaging in the dry food cupboard. I was sure he would find some dried vegetable in there that he would chirp about making into soup. If there was any seaweed - which was, of course, fairly unlikely - maybe I could convince him to let us try making miso soup. They had packets of the paste and dried tofu around, it just seemed Yuy and I were the only ones who considered it a meal rather than some sort of snack. Before I could help myself I rubbed my temples, and sighed.

Winner span around as if he had heard a gunshot, eyes wide. "What's wrong, Wufei? Are you okay?" He got close to me - not that he was too far away in the stupidly small kitchen - and tried to take my hand. "Here, let me help you sit - " I snatched away my hand before he could finish that sentence. I was not going to be helped by someone weaker than myself. Besides, I could sit myself down if I were so inclined. "I'm fine!" I snapped, the smaller boy seeming to shrink into himself and tiptoe back over to the pantry as if his bare feet really made any sort of noise on the linoleum.

"...I'm sorry. It's just I have a headache," I explained, more calmly, taking a deep exhaling breath like I often tried to do at times like this. "You must feel it, too." Winner gave a little, muted nod - his attentions were elsewhere. He had once explained to me that the empathy didn't always stay in the room, that it floated around like a ghost of its own choosing. When I had asked him before if he felt Maxwell after he disappeared he confessed not - but then added, unless he had a vague idea where someone was, he couldn't even try to find their emotion. And we didn't even know what colony Maxwell was on.

If I had wanted, I could have gone to the guards who allowed us limited access to medications - paracetamol and the like, nothing strong - and we practically laughed in their faces; well, we would have done, had that action not have earned us punishment that wasn't worth it. Face it, we were Gundam pilots - we had immunity to more pills than we could count, and the doctors had started with the soft ones first, the 'over the counter' type. It made sense, if you thought about it in a twisted, enemy way - easiest to get hold of in bulk, easiest to quickly torture and eventually poison your captives.

I don't know what I was trained 'up' to, but I knew that paracetamol wouldn't do anything. Knowing I was prone to headaches when stressed - and when is a Gundam pilot not stressed - that could turn into blinding migraines if not halted, I had learned quickly when I came to earth what may help me. It wasn't the mixture I had used on my home colony - I was never getting that back - but it helped. So the second I got to this place I was tearing apart tea bags and making my own plastic (glass was too risky) jar of tea. It had nettle, mint, chamomile, licorice - all traditional earth remedies to help with my headache. I carefully filled a tea infuser and placed it, along with a spoon, in my white mug (it had a big 'W' on the side, added by Winner who hated how identical everything was) before putting the boiling water in. There was one small luxury I was surprised they had let us have in here - honey. The drink was bearable without it, but much better with it. Maybe whoever had gathered intelligence on us hadn't done so bad - after all, there had been all the right teas here for my headaches, and all the hot drinks the others took a liking to, too - early gray for Winner, raspberry and strawberry for Yuy, and plain English breakfast tea for Burton.

As I moved out of the way, still thinking about the perfectly prepared cupboard, Winner seemed to find a calmer side of himself. He got out the mug with the T on and the mug with the Q on, and made each of their favorite teas. He added that disgusting long-life milk that we had to use - no fresh produce allowed once it had all ran out - to Trowa's drink, along with two sugars. "Right. Well, I better go ask Trowa what he wants to figure out for supper. You know what he's like, he'll come down here and find some...spaghetti and sauce and that'll be fine." 'Yeah, fine because your boyfriend suggested it,' I thought, staring deeply into the tea as if the floating infuser could tell the future. I knew I could go into that cupboard and pull out at least five different meals, only one of them a noodle dish (the same as spaghetti, but Winner had retained some of that goddawful posh atmosphere that made noodles a 'foreign food') and only one of them miso, and Winner would politely 'um' and 'uh' until Burton shooed me out of the kitchen to pretend he had found some of the more acceptable meals.

I tried not to take offense, and it wasn't like I wasn't allowed to cook (Thursday and Sunday were my routed days, most importantly chosen by us and not the guards) but how exactly did being Winner's bitch - or the other way around, I shuddered to think - mean your word is god? I grumbled to myself and took a dew more sips out my drink as Winner left and headed up the stairs. I wasn't sure where the guards were, but with all the doors and windows steadfastly locked, they seemed to relax a lot more during day time than night time. They didn't, at first. They followed us like a shadow, especially after the escape attempt, but once they found we were up to a mixture of mundane and private activities, they backed off. They never became unprofessional and tried to have a conversation, but they stopped looking at every game of hangman like we could make notes on trying to escape. And we stopped making notes on trying to escape once we realized every morning was 'bed check' - covers back, pillows off, mattresses flipped. And shower time was a confiscation and inspection of clothes so 'unless you want your pretty little escape plans to get all washed up, I would think twice about smuggling them between your cheeks', announced some guard to me the morning me and Yuy had been caught with the note exchange. I've never quite wanted to punch someone in the face quite as much, apart from maybe Maxwell, but even with that helmet on, I could tell I was dealing with a women - and I don't hit women. ...Except Maxwell.

Suddenly, there was the noise of a mug smashing upstairs. I leapt to my feet, my hand going for my gun before remembering that it wasn't there. That was taking more than a little getting used to. I left my half finished tea, knocking over my chair as I raced through the small living room and upstairs. Mine and Yuy's room was right at the top, and I could see Winner in the doorway, his mug and tea all over the floor. I could just make out the 'Q', and I could smell the Earl Gray staining the carpet. Somehow, for some reason, Burton's cup was still in his hand, and I eased it away from him and put it on the nearest steady surface before looking at what was in front of me.

Yuy was on his bed, where he belonged. Lying there on his back, he looked somewhat innocent, as if we had walked in on him sleepwalking. That would be easier to explain if Yuy's legs hadn't been wrapped around Burton's waist. Burton was keeping himself up on his arms, but both their puffy lips and red faces suggested that they had been a lot closer than that as Winner walked in. Yuy's tank top was even pulled up to his rib cage and the fly of the casual jeans he had purchased after the war were down. Burton's checkered top was undone and, although his flies were done up, what defense could they give.

Winner stood, stupefied. I don't know what he had seen when he had came in - who's lips had been pressed against who's, who's hand had been down who's pants, but I didn't need to know. No-one in this little situation was innocent, apart from Winner. I felt a growl come from me, something inhuman that had only happened before when I saw Treize, and an anger coursed through me that was nearly as strong. The other two, obviously not expecting to get caught in the act, were starting to dissemble from their 'ready' positions, but both were still full of too much surprise to act quickly enough for my actions.

It was Burton who got it first, square in the jaw. He bit his lip and my hand slammed into his nose - I could feel the satisfying crunch that meant it was broken. If I were lucky, I had chipped a few teeth on the way up too. And those hurt like a bitch - I was always getting those in my first days as a pilot, with my head too small for the head brace and wiggling around the cockpit. Still hurt sometimes now, if the weather was right or if food was too cold. If I got him good, he was always going to remember this.

The violent activity caused him to stumble off of Yuy, who was quicker pushing himself up, but not as quick as he would have been during the war. I guess it was harder with half a boner and a couple of months of peace, even if three weeks of it had been planning to fool around with a colleague's boyfriend. Instead of going for the simple punch, which was harder with Yuy half standing, I grabbed him around the throat and pushed him against the wall. It was a sneaky way to do things, to give your opponent no way out, but this wasn't exactly a fair fight - I hadn't come charging up those stairs expecting to have to take revenge against one of the men I respected the most. I felt my grip increase against his neck. I could feel little things - not bones, but tendons, muscles - crunch and crackle under my touch. Yuy's arms flailed, uselessly. All these years, and he couldn't even get out of a chocker hold? I decided it would be more trouble than it was worth to kill him, and more fun to keep him alive, as I relaxed my grip and drew back. Yuy - Heero Yuy, known for being inexpressive, suddenly looked relieved, until he felt my knee draw back in all its fury and hit him straight in the nuts.

Maybe it wasn't a fair fight. Taking advantage of such a delicate situation certainly had never been something I had been taught, but given the circumstances, the punishment seemed to fit the crime. During all this, the other pilots hadn't moved. Burton had his head back, trying to get a handle on his intense nosebleed - Winner hadn't moved, hadn't left the room, hadn't moved closer to Burton. Yuy fell to his knees in front of me and I stepped back, my rage decreasing. I didn't need to say anything. I hate to think what would have happened if Winner hadn't dropped his mug, if it had stayed silent up here. Would Winner have started yelling or quietly put Burton's mug down and gone into their room? Would Burton have gotten control of himself and gone running after him to console him? Would we have had an awkward, silent dinner with only me outside of the secret?

Suddenly, the guards arrived. I don't know where they came from, but not for the first time I found myself wondering if they had cameras switched on during the day, now we had proven ourselves for a couple of weeks. Well, any proving, at least of myself, had come undone in one anger filled second. Did Burton even know what he was messing with? What I...what some people would give, to have that intimacy with someone so close to them? Surviving a war together but keeping on loving just as passionately, as if nothing interrupted it?

Away from Yuy but still accessible I had dropped to my knees and put my hands above my head - signs of surrender, of course. I was heaved up under my arms by two guards - not exactly being gentle but OZ had been far rougher. The other two guards weren't exactly trained in kindness - one just kept throwing tissue after tissue at Burton with no advice apart from saying 'pinch your nose, head back' in an emotionless voice. Blood trickled down Burton's chin from his teeth or lips and his eyes, already dark bruised underneath from the badly broken nose watched me with coldness.

No-one seemed what to do with Yuy. If it was us, anyone from the war, we'd know to give him maybe ten minutes alone and he'd shake it off, but the guard kept trying to lift him which made him let out a string of curses in Japanese. I wondered how the guard would feel if he was kneed in the nuts, then realized the barely-trying guard was female. That explained a lot. His pain would stop, although it would hurt to piss, and forget about trying to be intimate with anyone else for a while. His throat would be bruised and hurt like hell for a few days, and I expected his voice would become more gruff - but none of it was lasting damage. Not like with Burton, who would have to live with a croaked nose all his life.

Winner was frozen, and Winner was alone. He watched one of the housekeepers sweep up the shards of mug and mutter something about the tea stain, but she otherwise ignored him too. He pressed himself flat against the wall. His lip was turned down but he wasn't about to cry - he had moved on a lot since the war. The empathy in that room must have been playing havoc with him though, so maybe he was able to stay void simply because everyone elses' emotions overtook and complicated him.

As I was dragged by, I wanted to reach out and say something - maybe apologies for them, for Burton in particularly, or maybe for the dishonorable way I had acted, using my heart rather than my head. But when I stretched my fingers and touched his arm, all I felt was cold skin and Winner turning away from me. 'They deserved it,' I told myself, with convection, 'but Winner didn't deserve to have to see any of it.'


To be continued