Rehab
Title: Rehab
Pairings: 1X2, 3X4, 5X (secret), 1+OC...
Warnings: SEX! (Lol), Angst, Violence, Foul Language and so on!
Summary: To pent his frustration throughout the war Duo turns to Heero for no-strings attached sex not knowing the silent solider would start to develop feelings for him. Now the wars over and Duo has turned to Hilde to start a new life leaving Heero stranded and unknowing how to deal with the emotion called 'Love'.
Disclaimer: If I owned Gundam Wing it would be never ending!
Author's note: I thought of this idea while listening to Rihanna's song 'Rehab' and it all just came pouring out. It's going to be a multi part fic; some chaps will have some of the lyrics to the song at the start while others won't
Additional A/N: Some people have been reviewing/emailing asking about the pairings in this fic. I don't really want to give the ball away, but this is a 1X2 fic as all my fics will ever be Just keep tight and enjoy the ride.
Chapter 7
Sometimes I wonder what life would have been like without the war, Odin and J. Where would I be right now?
Today has made me wonder because all I've seen are teenagers my age, all of them happy as they joke around with each other going in-between classes. They've all got sparkles of joy in their eyes as if they've got no worries in the world. Or perhaps they've just accepted their fate.
Like Chloe thought it didn't take long for my leg to start to heal and within 2 weeks I could walk on it again with a limp. About 3 days ago Jason began giving me the grand tour of the enormous ship. So far we've covered the canteens, and the shops. Yeah that's right I've been shopping. The west side of the third floor of the ship holds a number of shops housing handmade items such as clothes, hats, bags and shoes.
Jason had been given some money to buy me some clothes. I in the end brought 2 pairs of jeans and a couple of t-shirts. It's like the ship has its own economy. It's very weird and fascinating at the same time.
In between these explorations I visited Chloe again. My leg has actually begun to feel as good as new. Maybe in the long run looking after myself is a good thing.
Grey has attended every physiotherapy session, however not always participating and trying to help. Most of the time he stands at the back of the room acting almost like a permanent fixture within the darkness. Like a shadow of a ghost watching over us. I can always feel his eyes on me like a 6th sense. It's unnerving.
Chloe's only asked me twice about my dreams since the first session. I still will not budge – even I refuse to think about them while I'm awake, though I will never tell her that.
On today's tour around the Redstar Jason as brought me to the school. The only time I have ever been to school was during the war. I feel my heart skip as I think of the time I'd stayed with Duo on Earth. He used to call me a brown noser always answering and doing what the teacher asked for. The thing is I think I knew more than the teachers, plus who would look twice at someone doing what they were supposed to be doing at school. Duo always treated going to school like it was taking a vacation from the war. He was a terrible listener and a fidget.
This morning it's made me wonder if I could have ever turned out like the hundreds of students I've seen or if I ever could now. Compared to them I feel and look like an emotionless stone. Who would want to be friends with someone who's empty, who can't even smile? Lately I've had nothing to smile about – only the irony of my fucked up life destined to be alone. I envy them.
Sometimes I find myself almost wishing my life had taken a different course until I realise that someone else would have had to be in my place. I would never burden that on anyone.
I can feel their eyes on me as Jason leads me through the corridors. I can hear their silent whispers as they huddle in groups. I feel so tense that if someone tried to bend me I'd instantly snap into two. A few of them even jump out the way as if I'd harm them if they grew to close.
I trail behind Jason until we reach the quieter part of the school and before I know it we're in a large library. I have to double take as I look up at the millions and millions of rows of books and book shelves. They're like bursts of loud colour within the dull quite room. There are just a few students wondering idly through the aisles. It's so silent I can hear my blood rushing through my veins.
During the war I did a lot of reading, travelling through space took up a lot of time. J prescribed that I read every book I could get my hands on portraying people's opinions on the war. He once gave me a book about the human emotions. At the time I felt it was a pointless thing to read and I ended up chucking it in the trash at one of the shuttle ports in between L3 and L4. Now I wish I'd read it, maybe it would have shed some light on what Duo and I shared.
As we stop Jason turns to me and grins, "wait here I've just gotta go find something," He wonders off leaving me standing by a large computerised version of the Solar System.
As I stand and wait I find myself mesmerised by the planets as they slowly drift around each other and the Sun in the middle glowing a bright hot yellow. Reaching forward I lay my hand out and watch as Jupiter flies straight through my palm turning my hand temporarily blue.
"It's wonderful isn't it," I hear a croaky old voice say before I feel a presence at my side. "My husband built it; he's a terribly clever programmer. He gave it to me for our Wedding Anniversary. He said it was his version of giving me the universe."
I glance out the corner of my eye to see a small old woman with greying brown hair pulled up into a loose bun tied with a simple black band. Her face is pale and thin with small wrinkles around her eyes while she has a touch of blusher on her predominant cheek bones.
"It's beautiful," I whisper surprising myself as I watch Mars waft towards me. The holographic partials spraying over the palms of my hands like speckles of coloured rain drops.
"It's a great way to get the younger ones to listen," she continues. "To them it should be basic knowledge to know about the solar system and the planets, even if they never get to set foot on the most important."
For some unknown reason I feel my stomach knot at the thought.
"Do you like space?" she asks looking intrigued. I find myself wondering over the question. I always found greater satisfaction within space. The feeling of no gravitation and having the whole universe to explore excites me in a way. It was the one place I felt at home during the war. The sense of silence and peace made me wish for freedom from all the fighting.
"I like the silence," I murmur thinking back to the days in the war when I'd fly out on my own. The silence did wonders back then.
"My husband says the same thing," she smiles. "Space to me is a blank canvas full of possibilities. It's the only place I feel free to decide what I want to do – like how I'm going to paint my own canvas. And you don't have to pay those god awful taxes!"
I snort as I watch the moon rotate around the Earth as it begins to tilt in a different direction.
"Don't you miss the colonies and Earth?"
"Sometimes," she says but she doesn't look upset about her fate. She smiles, "but like my mother used to say, there's no point crying over split milk – it's the young ones I worry about. They watch all these TV programs about the Earth and the wildlife – I feel for them."
"Hn,"
"So what were you doing out in space?" she asks suddenly.
I feel my heart skip a beat as I turn back to the display. I watch as the smaller versions of the colonies rotate around the Earth my eyes lingering on the one I ran from over 3 months ago. I briefly find myself wondering if anyone has even noticed I've gone or if anyone cares. Relena's probably wondering where I've taken her ship too – the thing is I don't really know myself.
"I guess I was trying to find a way to paint my own canvas."
"Any luck?"
I kind of snort at the possibility and I see her face drop and look almost sad for a moment.
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Hn."
"Are you a risk taker?"
I frown for a moment remembering back to the war, how before I met Maxwell I calculated everything to perfection. There would be nothing I would do which wouldn't have a logical explanation. But then I met him and began to get sloppy. The amount of time's I risked my life to save his. But now – I don't do anything – because I don't have him.
"I used to be," I murmur "I haven't for a long time."
"Well there's your problem! You need to take risks. Maybe you should let go a little – consider the impossible, do something you've never done before. Man cannot discover new galaxies unless he's got the courage to lose sight of the one he's in. Maybe then you'll be able to paint your canvas."
"It's harder - than you think," I murmur thinking over my own words. I've never been able to let go on my own accord. Since when did everything get so hard?
"It's hard for everyone, it's just that some people need some direction and a little push," she smiles before turning towards the library. "Do you read?"
"When I have the time,"
"Well I have some great books, you should have a look around – I guess I could draw up a temporary library card for you."
"Thanks I guess."
"No problem, just come over to the desk when you've found one. If you feel inspired I would suggest looking over in that section." She points to a secluded part of the Library. I nod and watch as she wonders away taking a few books from the shelves besides her as she does.
I wonder through a couple of aisles picking up old battered books reading the backs and then putting them back none of them really capturing my interest. I see Jason down one of the aisles with a mountain of books around him. All of them seem to be about pod or shuttle mechanics. He looks so engrossed in his findings that he doesn't notice my brief presence.
A few more turns later I find myself in a more secluded part with a few books which look like they haven't been touched for a few years. I run my hand over a few and feel the dust stick to the tops of my fingers. I stop however, as I notice one, I feel my brows furrow as I pick it up and dust off the cover. The title stands out and I find myself almost smiling at the memory.
The book is titled 'Wings'. Trowa had read some of it to me after I'd self destructed.
/
"I postpone death by living, by suffering, by error, by risking, by giving, by losing - " I hear Trowa's whispering voice as I struggle to breath my painfully broken and bruised ribs sending a shearing pain through my body like waves of torture. His green eyes glance over at me, his brows furrow. "Never give up."
I let my eyes slide over to him; he shifts his back to the book. I take in his protective stance even within the company of a wounded soldier. I can see the knife poking out the top of his boot. Would he ever be able to sit without fear of an attack? Would I? I have a gun underneath my pillow. It makes him nervous.
Slowly his green eyes rise to meet mine – they look almost empty, but I can see the embers of a burning fire at the back of them. He's nearly given up, just like I nearly did – or have.
"We must never give up," he says more forcefully. "Many of life'sfailures are from people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up."
"I haven't."
"You did." I feel my eyes narrow and my fingers twitch for the gun under my pillow. Trowa's always been the one to point out the obvious truth. I feel my failure wash through me like a tidal wave and I've never felt so pathetic.
"Never give up Yuy," He says closing the book in his lap. "You're too important."
I want to give up. "You don't know –"
"Life's not easy for any of us," he says looking slightly angry however the look disappears as quickly as it comes. Trowa's never been the one for expressing his true feelings as open as others "but you've got to keep going – you've got to keep fighting."
"I wish I could."
"I'll make sure you do," his green eyes drift away from mine as he gracefully moves from his seat towards the window overlooking the trailer park his trailer is situated in. I watch as he observes whatever is on the other side of the window.
"You're the strongest out of all of us," he says looking sadly down at the table top. "I know you can't just stand there and watch us burn. It's not who you are."
I sit there for moment thinking about him and the other pilots, about the war. He's right. I would never give up fighting. No matter how much the back of my mind is slowly getting further and further away from reality. No matter how fucked up I may become, I would never give up. I don't know how.
/
Trowa's words had stayed with me all the way through the war but somewhere along the way they'd phased away. I'd forgotten – I'd stopped fighting – I'd given up.
Keeping the book in my hand I wonder towards the Library desk finding Jason had returned with a tower of books all piled up on top of each other.
"Hey, you find anything you wanted?" the old librarian asks. I nod and hand over the book. She looks approvingly at the front cover. "A classic."
"Hn," I watch as she swipes it through and prints off a temporary card. "Now make sure you return it before you leave."
"Hai,"
"Hey Heero, could you help me with all of this?" Jason almost groans as he finishes swiping all the books. "I got some research I've got to do. One of the damn pods has stopped working and I can't figure out what the hell is wrong with it."
"I could help," I offer the words leaving my mouth without consent.
"Oh yeah?" One of his blonde eyebrows lifts. "You know mechanics?"
"Hai," I answer wishing I'd never said anything.
"You know much about fuel pumps?"
"Sure,"
"Looks like I won't need these after all Lil!" Jason says happily.
"Don't you be expecting me to put all them back!" the old woman exclaims. I watch as Jason suddenly pulls a puppy dog face. "Oh – Jason, why do you always have to pull that face?"
"Please – "
"Oh fine!" she cries before yanking him on the arm. "Now go and do something fun before he dies of boredom."
"Don't worry I'm going to take him to my most favourite place on the ship."
The librarian raises an eyebrow, "Oh yeah?"
"Work!"
"Oh great," she says dryly before turning to me "– well it's a good job you got that book out."
"Hey!" Jason sticks his tongue out before turning towards me. "Don't listen to her she's just cranky because she has to stay in this bore all day." The old woman, Lil, laughs before strolling off towards one of the large book cases with a trolley full of returned books.
"Cya later boys!"
Jason calls a goodbye before pulling on me to follow him. I follow him down a number of corridors, staircases and more corridors before we reach a small working bay on the bottom floor. The room is lined with red tool boxes and there are a number of utensils discarded on the oil stained floor. There are a number of posters of rock bands covering the white walls and on the far side I notice a large self drawn picture of a pod. It's detailed enough to show each individual panel and the nuts holding them together. All I can smell is the well known and cherished smell of oil and fuel, I almost smile.
"You'd better keep your mouth shut about this since you're not supposed to be down in the hangers," Jason says as he pulls up a large metal shutter.
I feel my eyes widen slightly as I take in the pod revealed before me. From first inspection it looked magnificent, with a custom paint job and modifications to the usual. I see Jason smirk at my reaction.
"Beautiful huh?" he rubs his hand over the shining front. "I built her from scratch, she's my beautiful baby."
"It's great," I feel lame as soon as I say it. The pod is more than great, it's astonishing.
"Wanna see what she's carrying?" he says with a wicked grin and hits a button on the hydraulic lift sending the pod 8 foot in the air. He cocks his head to call me over his blonde hair bouncing as he does. I find myself almost jogging. "I've attached 3 Military AWT200 jet engines to her, it took some working out but she accelerates like a bitch when in space. Landon said I was crazy, he thought I was gonna blow myself into the next galaxy."
"Impressive," I murmur running my hand over on the very, very large engines. They look almost new as if Jason had spent hours cleaning them inside and out. "How often do you take her out?"
"I've only driven her once – to be honest she scared the shit out of me. Chloe thought the ship was on the verge of blowing up when I started her up. Believe me she's so loud the people on the other side of the Redstar can hear her," he chuckles lightly. "But once we're back I'm going to see how fast I can go around the Earth," he smiles with a dreamy look in his eyes.
"Then I guess you're already half way there," I murmur
"Half way where?"
"To becoming the fastest pod racer in space."
"You remember that?" his eyes widen and he looks almost shocked.
"Why wouldn't I?" I ask almost confused by his reaction.
"Well, it's just most people don't listen to me," he says half in a whisper before a slow smile reaches his lips. His dark eyes twinkle, "You think I have a chance?"
"Not if she's the one with the blown fuel pump."
"Yeah – there's always so much that can go wrong with them and in her spec they're pretty hard to come by – well for us," he adds the last bit quietly as he reaches towards a wrench set down by a dirty oil stained cloth. "Last time I took her out she was fine up until I went to return to the ship. It was like she was spluttering as she tried to stay alive just to get me back here. As soon as I touched down she died."
"You got the diagnostics?"
"Sure,"
I don't know how long we spent down there, but like I said before time is useless in space. We talked as we dissected the machine. Every small piece of the overall engine had a story behind it. Like the intercooler pipes were won in a luck hand of poker a few months back. It was fascinating and enjoyable to see Jason so happy and in his element. By the time we'd taken half the engine apart tried to diagnose the problem showing up on his diagnostic screen and cleaned everything to a sparkling result my stomach was growling like no tomorrow.
"You hungry 'Ro?" Jason chuckles as he tries his best to wash off the oil staining his hands.
"Hai," I join him at the sink and he pours some salt into my hands and some washing up liquid. I feel the corners of my mouth twitch up. It's the same way Duo used to try and wash the oil from his hands. He always said there was no need to buy the expensive specially made hand wash. For a moment I feel my mood darken before I put the memory behind the doors which should never be opened – no matter how much I wanted to.
"You think she'll start up fine?" Jason asks turning to gaze upon the beautiful machine.
"If it was the fuel timing then I'm sure,"
"You're a right savour Heero," he slaps his hand on my back. "Where'd you learn to be such a good mechanic?"
I bite my inner lip, "it was a hobby."
"Oh yeah? I started working for OZ when I left school. It wasn't out of choice but I got to work on mostly Leo's and Taurus's. Though it was never enough," I glance at him out of the corner of my eye to see him with a shimmer in his. "I always wanted to get my hands on those Gundam's just to see what was under their armour. Especially Wing Zero I could spend the rest of my days dissecting that machine."
I snort and almost laugh at the irony.
"What? Hey don't laugh at me we can all dream right?" he exclaims, "Those machines were built to perfection. I do envy the pilots who got to drive one."
"I wouldn't." I murmur too lightly for him to hear as he picks up his jacket off the work bench were he left it earlier. I also pick up my library book.
"I wonder what happened to them after the war,"
"They probably self detonated them."
"Crazy fools," Jason murmurs. "I'm hoping one day I will come across the remainders."
Yeah if you look at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean
"Like I said I can dream," he sighs and leads the way back to the upper deck of the ship. By the time we reach the canteen luckily most people had gotten their food and retreated to their usual seats. I pick up a tray and grab a healthy meal of fish and vegetables. It's baffling to think where the hell they pull all this food from.
I'm nearly falling asleep as I listen to Jason continue his babble and I can now feel the dull ache in my leg rising. He walks me back to my room as he usually does and says good night.
I slump down on my bed placing my library book on my bedside table. I tiredly pull off my soiled with oil clothes, quickly jump in the shower and within 15 minutes I'm in bed and fast asleep. I dream about pod cars and shuttles - about the days when I had Wing to myself to work on and had a couple of free days between my missions. The days when within the raging war I found some peace – if that's what you can call it – and I was almost happy.
I hear Trowa's voice – 'Never give up' – and for the first time in a while I don't want to.
TBC...